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stevie-petey · 3 months ago

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episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.”

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend).

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond.

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right.

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good.

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list:

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes.

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says.

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza.

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you.

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California.

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters.

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly.

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break.

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed.

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with.

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee.

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate.

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers.

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes.

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA.

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius.

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again.

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club.

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave.

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet.

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!”

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance.

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household.

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!”

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that.

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?”

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man.

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after.

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!”

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous.

Which means it has to be about someone.

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch.

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind.

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend.

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!”

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.”

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end.

–

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you.

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you.

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet.

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her.

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile.

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’.

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now.

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary.

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent.

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne.

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match.

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin.

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly.

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil.

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience.

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them.

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster.

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike.

Goddamn Eddie Munson.

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side.

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you.

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that��s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high.

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head.

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be.

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows.

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions.

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery.

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

–

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary.

You’ll miss him when you graduate.

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one.

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day.

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his.

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for.

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom.

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too.

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table.

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana.

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded.

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin.

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies.

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others?

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.”

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him.

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified.

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol.

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother.

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds.

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

–

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him.

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back.

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd.

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true.

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster.

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song.

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash.

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin.

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot.

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them.

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself.

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score.

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jaosn tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.”

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline.

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there.

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!”

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else.

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones.

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

–

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time.

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms.

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked.

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known.

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.”

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with.

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.”

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does.

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true.

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him.

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke.

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely.

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart.

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow.

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue.

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling.

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted.

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate.

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship.

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud.

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways.

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed.

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to.

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull.

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

#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 #SEASON 4 EVERYONE CHEER !!!!#also i dont hate eddie but bug does #lmao

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sttoru · 1 year ago

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♯ 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊.

⟣ sypnosis. kento has been extremely busy lately, going on business trips and so forth. he decides to surprise you by coming back earlier than expected. that’s how you end up finding your lover on top of you, showering you in his affection at 3 in the morning.

⟣ tags. nanami kento x female reader. fluff, bit of angst, suggestive towards the end. reader gets called 'sweetheart, angel, dear' wc: 1.8k

⟣ note. okayokay finally an adition to my event heheh ive almost forgotten about it but then i saw this prompt & was like . ok nanami , i must write this rnnn no delaying anymore so here i am :3 its also very bad. i hate it sm LOL i hope u at least like it t_t

kento often asks himself why he had returned to the world he despised — the jujutsu society; his old high school. the sprawling curses everywhere are the main cause of his current misery.

he had been sent out on missions left and right, not catching a break in hopes of reducing any more civilian causalities than necessary. kento had even thought that maybe his previous 9-5 job wasn’t as bad as he had considered it.

overtime was every day for the sorcerer now. that wasn’t the worst thing - no - the fact that he was pratically living a long distant relationship with his beloved irritated him most.

a thought he had in his high school days reoccured in a moment of distress: ‘why not leave all those missions to gojo?’

you were still pretty understanding of his situation. kento appreciated that, though the guilt still ate away at him whenever he tried to sleep. an empty bed welcomed him each time he re-entered his hotel room — you saw the exact same scenery when returning home to your shared apartment.

both of you were adults; both knowing that life was unfair. the two of you being unable to see each other from time to time was a part of your life. kento and you still maintained a healthy relationship. that was all that really mattered in the end.

11:49PM. . . tonight wasn’t unlike any other night; you were preparing yourself to go to bed—changing into your pyjamas after showering, snuggling to a pillow under the covers and texting your lover one last message.

‘good luck on your mission as always! stay safe, i love you.’

you stare at your phone screen for a minute longer than intended. even if you tried to be mature about it — you longed for kento’s warmth and undivided attention. you want him with you, his strong arms holding you to his chest as you rest, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

you sigh defeatedly and put your phone down on your nightstand. just two days until you could see your partner again. you can hold onto that hope to keep you calm.

despite you trying to stay positive, you tossed and turned in your bed as you thought about kento’s safety. there was always a chance of him not coming home to you — always the possibility of that bed to be empty for the rest of your life.

all you could do was pray for his safety in your head whilst your eyes eventually closed from fatigue, your mind drifting off to a deep slumber.

03:14AM. . . kento opens the door he had wished to have opened way earlier. the door that lead to the place where his heart lays; the person who claimed his heart and soul for eternity. you.

he didn’t think he’d actually do it. kento had originally planned to finish his last job as soon as possible and then get home afterwards, but there seemed to be a change in routine.

the special grade sorcerer simply assigned the mission to ino — the person whom he could trust most to finish the job in one piece. as much as kento dislikes to put his juniors in possible risky situations, there are also situations where it’s fine to depend on them. besides, the mission could easily be done by a grade one sorcerer.

kento sighs. the familiar scent of your home was one he could recognise from miles away. one that could calm his nerves instantly. it was that same distinctive scent you carry; thus why your lover sometimes calls you his home.

‘i can’t wait to be home’ ‘i want to be home’ ‘i’m going home’ — all these sentences, which kento has uttered before in earlier conversations, weren’t referring to a place. rather to a person he held dear.

“oh, my sweetheart.” the blonde man whispers under his breath as his eyes catch the shape of your figure under the blankets. he quietly enters the master bedroom and closes the door behind him, not making a sound as to not interrupt your well-deserved sleep.

kento slowly undoes his dotted tie, along with the upper buttons of his blouse. he probably needs to go take a good shower before he could settle down with you — but that’d risk waking you up.

you look extremely angelic in his eyes. especially with your left cheek squished by the soft pillow your head rests on. you never once fail to convince him that you are indeed the woman of his dreams; the woman kento ever had and will have eyes for. it’s like you get more attractive to him as the days go on.

“mh,” your sudden and soft groan makes him realise just how disturbing his behaviour could be interpreted as. kento’s body was hovering over your sleeping one and he was just. . . staring at you with a soft smile. a smile which he didn’t even notice had permanently found its place on his weary face.

kento sits down on the edge of the mattress, callused hand gently tucking you in properly, putting the blanket over your shoulders to make sure you didn’t get cold. he can’t rest if you’re not comfortable— even if he himself was exhausted to the point his eyes were starting to feel heavy.

yet that exhaustion doesn’t last long. it never does when kento’s able to see you again after a tiring week of countless missions and other jobs. your presence alone grants him the energy to stay awake and take care of you. and himself. you’re the reason he keeps it going.

“i love you so much, my beautiful girl — my angel.”

kento sure was a romantic. even when you’re unaware and asleep.

he couldn’t help it; the feeling stirring inside of him. the feeling of adoration and love for you. you are simply resting, yet kento felt an urge to kiss you all over, show you the unending love he has for you. but. . that’d probably be disturbing your peace. you are sleeping after all. he

not that that would stop kento.

your eyes flutter open due to a sudden presence hovering over you. your entire face and neck area was feeling ticklish, like someone was placing tens of kisses all over the skin.

strands of blonde hair is the first thing showing up in your blurry vision. kento’s face follows afterwards as his head tilts back up, the warmth against your jawline disappearing along with it —

“ah, i’m sorry.” a low and almost guilty chuckle tumbles out of his sore throat. the visible confusion on your face makes him let out another, “shh, shh, it’s just me, sweetheart.”

your arms flew around kento’s torso the second the realisation dawns upon you. your heart went from a slow pace to one that caused your entire body to warm up immediately; the adorable reaction and increase in heart rate not going unnoticed by your lover.

you wordlessly hug him — almost still in shock by the sudden appearance. kento doesn’t fight off your tight embrace, instead, welcomes it with open arms. the delicate kisses on your skin continue, each being placed with precision whilst one of his hands keeps your head tilted a little — rough fingers being a contrast of the gentle grip they had on your jaw.

“i missed you lots,” kento murmurs, eyes closed as he basks in the warmth of your body, his lips refusing to let go of your neck, “i couldn’t wait anymore. i couldn’t be separated from you any longer or i’d lose it.”

his gruff voice sounded even deeper than it usually would. maybe due to the overuse of it during his missions. the lone thought makes you pout — the thought of kento working super hard just to provide for you both.

“i missed you more, love.” you mumble, bottom lip trembling a little as kento’s hug triggers a whole lot of emotions in you. his hugs were special, his muscular arms giving you a sense of comfort you couldn’t find anywhere. no one could hug you like he did, “you did well. you did so well.”

those were all the words kento needed. his lips come to halt right above your collarbone, his breath a bit heavy from how much he's holding himself back from doing more. one hand moves from your cheek to your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt.

“thank you, dear.” kento says. his words carrying a load of unending affection. your simple words of appreciation and encouragement makes him shiver in delight. this is what he longed for; this is what he did it all for.

it was clear. the answer to his question - of why he had returned to the jujutsu world, to become a teacher at his former high school - it was all for you. to be able to be with you, see you and hold you like this. to have someone like you appreciate all of his efforts.

“may i?” kento asks through a quiet whisper as he gently removes the blanket covering your figure, his eyes darting down towards your cleavage. he's asking for permission to cross that barrier — to cover you in the love you deserve.

you just stare at the blonde man above you for a second. you watch as he climbs onto the bed with you; the bed which was once empty and dull, now suddenly becoming your favourite place to be at. your fingertips graze against kento's sharp cheekbones. a habit you always did when you were appreciating his looks.

“go right ahead.” you answer with a confirming nod.

both of you were touch starved and had been deprived from each other's embrace for way too long. now was the perfect time to make up for all the time lost.

kento wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip past him. he smiles at you, a gentle and handsome smile, whilst a few of his blonde locks fall over his left eye — his hands already prying away the blanket covering your shape. it was time to show you just how much he has longed for you.

“hold on to me, sweetheart. i’m not stopping until you realise just how much i’ve missed all of you.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #jjk fic #jjk fanfic

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yelenasdiary · 5 months ago

Note

I have request for A widow's sunshine

Could you write a reader that is like fifteen or sixteen and she found out recently she's like lesbian and she comes out to her parents and also tells them she has been dating someone for awhile

Hope this made sense, English is not first language lol

Coming Out

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader, Kate Bishop x Reader

Summary: You come out to your parents for the first time

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of Homophobia?, Mentions of fears of being disowned, if I missed any, please let me know | 0.9K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I am also open to an alternatives to this! If you want Reader to come out as anything, I would be happy to write it!

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

For months now, you couldn’t come to terms with the feelings you were having. You knew deep down that your mothers wouldn’t judge you or disown you but still, the thought of coming out to your parents brought its worries. You’ve known since you started high school that you were a lesbian, you’ve never looked at a boy and thought about how they looked or ever having a little crush on any. But you found yourself crushing hard on a girl in your history class.

Kate Bishop. What could you say about the girl with blue eyes and long dark hair without falling harder for her? She was funny, carefree and extremely skilled at archery. You ended up helping her with some history homework which is how the two of you formed a friendship, a friendship which soon led to a relationship. Being a sixteen-year-old and having a girl in your room wasn’t something that your parents worried about, in fact, they never had a reason to worry. You’d never been open about your sexuality with them, but you also almost never showed them any interest in a romantic life for them to have questions about.

Well, Wanda did. Sometimes you’d come home from Kate’s house with a flustered look and your lips as red as strawberries. She didn’t want to scare you or make you think you were in trouble for anything, but it was something Wanda noticed and did bring up to Nat who was now her wife of 8 years.

You wanted to tell them; you really did. You wanted them to meet Kate and for Kate to meet them but any time you thought to bring it up, your stomach turned and suddenly you were telling Kate that you couldn’t do it. But something changed in you tonight. It was time and you promised yourself you wouldn’t let the feeling in your stomach change your mind.

Wanda and Nat were washing up the dishes from dinner, Wanda handing the wet plates to Nat to dry and put away when you had interrupted them. “Is everything okay love?” Wanda asked, drying her hands on the clean hand towel. You nodded, “I just need to talk to you both about something, its important” you replied.

“Okay, how about we sit in the dining room” Your mother, Nat, suggested in a soft tone. You smiled softly in reply before wandering into the dining room and taking a seat, waiting for your mothers to take theirs. They sat together across from you, looking at them as they waited for you to speak only made your stomach turn more than before. You swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes dropped to your hands that were in your lap as you picked at your nails.

“I….I don’t know how to say it” you said almost too quietly.

“Whatever it is honey, we are here to listen” Nat replied, “did something happen?” She asked. You shook your head, “N-no, thing has happened, but something might?” You looked up slowly. Your reply only worried your mothers more.

“What do you mean sweetheart?” Wanda asked. You could tell by your mom’s tone that your comment added more to their worries.

“I mean-“ you sighed, trying to rack your brain for the right words to form but all you could think of was how nervous you were feeling and how you were starting to think this was a bad idea. “Y/n, it’s okay, just say whatever comes to mind” Nat said softly. You looked to her and nodded, taking a moment to gather yourself.

“Well, I guess I know you both won’t judge or disown me, but I guess I am just worried about others” you started, “Mom, Ma, I like girls and I have a girlfriend” the words flew from your lips. Both of your mothers smiled at you, “oh honey, how long have you had that built up?” Wanda asked.

“I guess I’ve known I’m a lesbian for a year but Kate and I, we started dating two months ago” you replied with honesty.

“Kate as in your friend Kate? The one you have study dates with?” Nat asked, just wanting to know more about the young teen who has stolen your heart. You nodded, “I really want you guys to meet her, like properly. Not just in passing when you pick me up from school”

“We would love to meet her” Nat replied with another soft smile, “but you are studying at those study dates, right?” She added slightly rising her brow. Your eyes widened at her suggestion, and you were quick to close those thoughts down. “Yes, I promise!” You replied.

“Sweetheart, what did you mean that you’re worried about what others might think? has somebody said something?” Wanda asked, bring the topic back to your comment that she couldn’t forget.

“Oh, I guess I was just overthinking things” you said. Your mind now reminding you that all the people who love you would never judge you for this, if they were to do so, they would be judging your parents as well and you knew that would never go down well.

“How do you feel about Kate coming over for dinner tomorrow night? I’ll cook” Wanda smiled.

“I’d really like that” you replied, trying to hide the giddy smile that tugged at your lips, “so would Kate” you added.

Natasha stood up and walked over to you, wrapping her arms around you and placing a kiss on the top of your head, “we love you so much” she whispered, “and I’m really happy for you detka” she added. Her loving support really helped push any other negative thoughts you were having away. You knew you could never doubt the love and support from your parents and you were glad you were finally confident enough to open up to them.

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x reader #Kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #awidowssunshineau

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slytherinshua · 5 months ago

Text

2AM CRISIS

genre. comfort. sickfic. warnings. reader is sick specifically throwing up so don't read if you find that rly gross... some comments abt it being reader's first time sleeping over and the hyungs being extremely cautious lmfao. not proofread. pairing. yujin x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by @theriizeler a/n. i hope this makes u feel better dodo :(( first time writing yujin i hope i did okay he's rly such a sweetheart :( ppl need to write more for him cause i get not writing for him cause of his age but he's always skipped over...

“Ew…” Yujin mumbled, crouched on the floor of the bathroom with you as you heaved again. For this being your first time sleeping over (with extremely watchful eyes from Hao and Hanbin), it definitely was not going as planned. You had felt something was wrong the entire day, but your boyfriend Yujin was so excited to spend the night with you that you didn’t have the heart to cancel on him.

You should have trusted your gut, though, because now you were throwing up in the toilet in painful gags, your throat burning and a disgusting acidic aftertaste left in your mouth. Was it something you had eaten? Or maybe you had caught a stomach bug at school… You envied your boyfriend for evading it, though you guess it made sense. He rarely attended because of his schedule.

“Stay right there.” Yujin whispered, getting up and leaving the bathroom to find some water for you.

He didn’t have much experience taking care of someone since he was usually the one always being pampered and babied. He tried his best to recall what his mom and Hao had done when he had gotten sick, but the memory was foggy as he had mostly just slept until he felt better. They did force him to take some horrible-tasting medicine, though… God, did he have to persuade you to do that as well? He’d rather just die than possibly give you an excuse to despise him.

Once he was back with a bottle of water, he handed it to you and sat back down on the floor of the bathroom. It was almost 2 am by now, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He could see tears prickling at your lashes, and his absolute worst fear in the world was seeing you cry. He had no idea how he’d make the tears stop once they started.

You swished your mouth with the water and spat again into the toilet before taking a proper drink. The cool water soothed your burning throat, but it didn’t ease all the discomfort. You still felt like shit, and your stomach still hurt. Your head was also pounding, but it wasn’t as bad as the nausea.

You turned back to Yujin who’s eyes were blown big and confused, though you could tell he was worried about you. His under eyes looked tired and you suddenly felt really bad for waking him up to go puke in his bathroom. If you had been able to get up without disturbing him, then you would have. But he had fallen asleep clinging to you like a koala, and there was no way to escape his grasp without waking him up.

“I’m sorry… you should just go back to sleep.” You muttered, but Yujin was quick to shake his head.

“I can’t just leave you throwing up by yourself… I’ll stay until you’re ready to go back to bed.” He told you, stroking your hair gently. You tried to breathe steadily in hopes of stopping the urge to throw up again, but it didn’t work. You quickly pushed Yujin’s hand away from your face and discarded more of yesterday’s meal into the bowl. Both you and Yujin grimaced in sync, and he hesitantly pulled back your hair and stroked your back.

The tears that you had tried to keep at bay finally started to stream down your face. You hated everything about the situation. You felt awful, not just physically, but for ruining your first sleepover with Yujin like this. No one wanted to be sitting next to their girlfriend who couldn’t stop vomiting at 2 am.

“Don’t cry— please, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Yujin panicked. The only thing he could think of doing was offering you more water, which you took amidst broken sobs. He wrapped his arms around you hesitantly, knowing that he always calmed down in your arms. Maybe it would help you, as well. Your sobs slowed a bit, in turn slowing down Yujin’s anxiously beating heart.

“Hey, what if I just get you a bowl? You can keep it by the bed and then you won’t have to stay here on the floor, hm? We can cuddle too… if you want?” You would’ve smiled at how cute Yujin’s suggestion was if you weren’t too focused on calming yourself down. You knew he was trying his best, and while he was a bit slow on ways to help (you were pretty sure there were some pills to help with nausea that Hanbin had bought last time Gyuvin had felt nauseous during a shoot, but you were certain that your boyfriend had no idea where they were stored), his presence alone was enough to make things a little better.

“Yeah… let’s just do that.” You agreed, standing up slowly. You flushed the toilet and rinsed your mouth once more with water. While Yujin was getting a metal bowl for you, you brushed your teeth, relieved that your mouth no longer had the awful aftertaste of stomach acid.

Once you were back under the blankets on the mattresses that the older members had set up on the floor of the living room (which was almost too overkill as neither you nor Yujin would even think to attempt anything like that, protesting Hao’s carefully thought of set-up would’ve seemed even more suspicious), you felt your stomach ease a bit.

You curled up against Yujin’s chest, wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to him. The soap and shampoo scents from his earlier shower lingered on his skin, and you were surprised at how effective it was in stopping your nausea and relaxing you. Your head was still pounding, but you’d take the pain over feeling sick. Maybe you would even be able to get some sleep again like this.

Your boyfriend kissed your forehead and started talking softly, trying to get you to fall asleep to the lull of his voice. It was extremely effective and you found yourself dozing off within minutes. You smiled when the last thing you heard Yujin say was a whispered “feel better soon, princess.”

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coffeeshades · 2 years ago

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credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART I

—invisible string

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: angst..? cussing, age gap, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: enjoy and please let me know if you'd like a part two! i'm already writing it lol but i'd like to know anyways <3

masterlist with next parts!

You’d always been good friends, taking to each other without much of a second thought after Oscar had introduced you two just in passing a few years ago—eight years ago, to be exact—at some party at his house.

New York, New York

September 4th, 2015

You were outside in the backyard, dressed far more casually than the occasion called for. It was a chilly night, and the music was blasting from inside the house.

You were tired from all the traveling, touring, and filming. You loved your job and were extremely grateful that things were working in your favor, but boy, did it leave you drained. You hadn't spent time with Oscar, or really any of your friends, in quite some time, so you thought a night out wouldn't hurt after working too much.

So there you were, enjoying the chill night air, when a familiar voice reached your ears.

“There you are!" Oscar said cheerfully, "I've been looking for you for like 20 minutes; I thought you left!" he continued, in a very dramatic manner, you must add.

You couldn't help but smile at his theatrics as you welcomed him with a hug. "Oh, I could never leave a party of yours without saying goodbye. You know I'm better than that." you speak softly, suddenly noticing another person behind him.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Pedro,” he says this as he turns to face Pedro. "He's a fan," Oscar says in a singsong manner.

Pedro is standing there with his cheeks flushed and a smile forming on his lips. Although part of you wanted to be cocky about it and torture him a little, you bit your tongue, not wanting to make this worse for him.

Of course you knew who Pedro was. And not because he was in two of the most famous TV shows at the moment; it was because Oscar and Sarah wouldn't shut up about him. In every conversation you had over the phone with either of them, Pedro's name always found a way to come up. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they could not hide their enthusiasm for him.

So to say you were interested in meeting him was an understatement. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Before you could properly introduce yourself, Oscar's name was called from inside the house. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it." he says, "Please be nice to each other!" he yells as he walks back inside. You shake your head in amusement.

"You are more beautiful in person," Pedro says in his very captivating, deep voice, catching you by surprise.

Now you are the one with the flushed cheeks.

“I thought you were shorter," you say back, daringly. Although it was an honest comment, it was also a way to deflect attention from the fact that he just called you beautiful.

Pedro laughs loudly, as if you had just told him the funniest joke ever.

"I am not trying to be mean or rude; I really thought you were like 5'3." you continued, putting your hands inside the pockets of your jacket.

"So you know who I am?" he asks, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yeah, I like to enjoy good television in my free time." you tell him, focusing on his face.

He was more beautiful in person, too. To your relief, he was dressed similarly to you. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, tucked into dark jeans that fit him in all the right places. His hair was a bit tousled, and his mustache looked like it had been recently groomed. He must be filming Narcos, you thought. You also noticed his kind brown eyes. He had a warmth and friendliness about him that was immediately apparent.

"Also, our friends don't seem to know how to shut up about you. You are quite the talk of the town lately."

Your words made him smile. He doesn’t say anything but narrows his eyes, and you can practically hear his thoughts clamoring around in his head. "Alright, back to me being short, " you rolled your eyes as he continued with his speech, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually 5'11." He takes a seat on one of the small couches that have been set up in the backyard, prompting you to follow suit and take a seat as well.

"Like I said, I didn't mean it in a bad wa—" he cuts you off before you finish your sentence. "Ah, don't worry about it. Plus, if you still think that's short, I'll make up for my height with my other great qualities."

You let out a small laugh, relieved that he didn't take offense to your remark. Again. You look at him and reply, "Oh, I can't wait to see these other great qualities."

The transition from acquaintances to close enough to hang out alone without friends was just as easy, and you quickly became an unlikely pair of sorts.

You did everything you could together. From having movie marathons whenever you both happened to be in the same city to visiting different coffee shops and ordering the same thing every time—you anything that involved caramel and him four shots of black coffee over ice—it felt as if you had known each other your whole lives.

You were inseparable, and it felt effortless, like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for so long finally fitting just right.

Given that you were in a serious, long-term relationship when you met, the tabloids didn't dig too much. All of the articles referred to you as friends, which saved you from having awkward conversations or even thinking too deeply about the whole thing.

There was also the age thing. Pedro was older than you, so everyone just assumed you'd never go there. Your boyfriend at the time never questioned your friendship with Pedro, either.

However, you now wish he had. It would've implied he was concerned, which you now know he wasn't. He was busy with other things. You don't exactly remember when things started to fall apart between the two of you. But you do remember how it felt when you found out he was cheating. It felt like a gut punch. The fact that the whole world also knew it didn't make it any better, either. You felt completely betrayed and exposed, not just by your boyfriend but by the whole world that seemed to be privy to your pain.

As any rational person would, you succumbed to work. If you were working, you wouldn't really have time to deal with all the viscerally painful emotions that have flooded your body ever since everything went to shit. You kept filming, and you kept making music. Endless hours spent at the piano provided you with incomparable peace and tranquility. Who knew a life-altering breakup was what you needed to write the best music of your career? At least something good had to come out of this disaster.

Of course your friends and family helped you navigate this process as well. However, one person stands out above the rest: Pedro.

It's like he made it his life mission to put you back together. He'd call just to check up on you, tell you random stuff about his day just to keep your mind off things, ask what book you were currently invested in, or simply say he missed you because months had passed and you couldn't see each other because of work.

"What time is it over there?" he asks, his voice was hoarse, as if he had just woken up.

"1:30 AM," you reply, glancing at your phone, "we're still shooting some stuff."

He groans into the phone, "I fucking hate it when filming drags on for too long."

"Yeah, tell me about it." you say this as you were stretching your back. You had been filming since the afternoon; it was currently past midnight, and production was still going. To say you were exhausted was an understatement. "Alright, I'll text you later. My break's sadly over."

"Yeah, sure. Good luck, princesa."

In other circumstances, you two happened to be in the same place at the same time. The parties were the best part of awards season. The entire purpose of the parties was to campaign for whatever projects were gaining traction, but for you, it meant spending time with friends you hadn't seen in a long time and having fun.

That explains why, four cosmos down, you were dancing and laughing in the middle of the dance floor with some of your friends. Or maybe it was five cosmos down. Truth be told, you stopped counting after the second one. You weren't the type to get wasted, but your goal for the night was to have fun, and alcohol definitely helped with that.

You start to get a little tired from all the dancing, so you head to the nearest couch. Sitting next to Sarah, she opens her arms to embrace you. "My little dirty dancer!" she says loudly, making everyone around you laugh. "Oh shut up, can't a girl have some harmless fun?" you say, a smirk on your face. You glance around the room at the grinning faces and shrug.

"It's karaoke time!" Jen, your friend and hostess for the evening, announced cheerfully, "Who wants to go first?"

"Oh, fuck me," Pedro groans, dragging his hand down his face. "I hate karaoke. I hate it. I don't want to sing karaoke, and I don’t want to listen to people sing karaoke."

He's sitting across from you with a beer in his hand and looking a little more drunk than you were. You chuckle as you watch him slump against the back of the chair during his karaoke rant.

This was no secret; after the first few weeks, when you began to hang out more frequently, he made sure to let you know this very important piece of information. That's why you took pleasure in doing it solely to irritate him.

"I will go first." You say this while looking him in the eyes. He rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing that you understand exactly why he's been so adamant about it.

"Why do you like to torture me, kid?"

"I can't help it; you're fun to mess with, Pedrito."

Even though he hated karaoke, you knew you were the only person he enjoyed listening to. You could tell by the way his eyes lit up whenever you hit the right note, the way he'd shake his head and chuckle when you made a mistake, and the smile that crept onto his face when you'd finished the song. Despite this, he would never admit to enjoying it.

You were busy listening to some of your friends talk about how you didn't completely butcher your rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" when hands landed on your waist from behind and you felt a hot breath on your neck. "That was terrible, mi amor."

Spinning around to face him as he straightens up, you spot his beautiful brown eyes. "When will you admit how much you enjoy my karaoke performances?" you try to pretend you're mad, but you can't help the corners of your mouth turning up in a smirk.

Pedro chuckles, his body vibrating against yours. He leans down, his lips barely brushing yours, his breath ghosting across your skin. "Never," he says, almost in a whisper.

Your body is buzzing from the proximity. No, it's the alcohol. Without a doubt, the alcohol. You're unbothered by the proximity. The same way you're unbothered by the way he's smiling down at you.

"You're insufferable," you say, keeping the conversation moving so you don't have time to spiral.

He brings his beer to his lips, smirking as he sips. "If by insufferable you mean utterly charming, then you are right."

Just like he made it his mission to put you back together after your life fell apart, sometimes it was your turn to put him back together, too. No matter how hard he tried to bottle up his feelings, you were always the one who could get through to him, able to make him smile or make him think with just a few simple words.

Pedro was no longer a mystery to you. He's a contradiction in motion. He withdraws into the distance that comes with fame, but he also wants to connect. Despite having a tendency to be open, he tends to hold a lot of himself back. He cares so much and yet he's also uncomfortable caring so much.

You were both in London for different reasons but were staying in the same hotel. One night, you decide to stop by his room before leaving for an event. You knock three times before he opens the door.

"Have you been crying?" you ask him, immediately concerned.

He is initially hesitant to respond, but eventually caves. "Well, yeah."

"What happened?"

"It's kind of pathetic, really."

"Then let's be pathetic together. Tell me." you respond as you push your way into the room.

"Prince died," he says, his voice hoarse from the crying.

"Pedro..." you say quietly, not really knowing what to say.

"I know, I know. It's stupid."

"Of course not." you quickly reply, "There's no shame in crying, I know how much you love him." you take a deep breath and approach him, offering him your hand. "C'mere, let's sit down."

You started lowering yourself to the floor, and he followed. "You don't have to do this...you look like you've probably got somewhere else to be."

"I've got nowhere else to be."

The two of you just sat there, not saying a word. You held him while he cried, his head on your shoulder as you ran your hand through his hair. If you could go and bring Prince back from the dead just so he wouldn't hurt like this, you would do it in a heartbeat. But you knew that was impossible, so all you could do was sit there and comfort him.

"You two should date."

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Sarah?"

"What!" she laughs. "You're basically dating already."

Since you hadn't seen each other in a while, Sarah had extended an invitation for you to have breakfast at her house. She had questioned you about your love life after discussing a number of other topics, and when you replied that you were still single, she made that absolutely ridiculous remark.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," she says, almost giggling, "that you two are doing the things that couples do, like going on dates and spending time together."

"We don't go on dates," you quickly reply, "and I don't like him like that."

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced, and asks, "Why?"

"Because..." you trail off, "Because he's Pedro... and I am me." Even though you were aware that what you were saying made no sense, you refrained from going into detail.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

"There's nothing to see, Sarah."

It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment you first realized that occasionally, completely unprompted, your thoughts would turn to Pedro.

This was similar to how you two became friends without ever consciously choosing to do so. The mere thought of his loud, booming laugh and the way he beams at you when you crack a joke would make the corner of your mouth twitch into a small smile. Eventually, you understood that those thoughts of Pedro and the slight thrill they gave you were very different from friendship.

Yet you decided not to go there. You both enjoyed your friendship, and he never said or did anything to make you believe he felt otherwise. Or that was just a bunch of bullshit you came up with to not deal with it anyway.

You were friends, close friends, and you didn't want to jeopardize the best friendship you'd ever had by listening to that little voice in your head that occasionally whispered, "What if...?"

It wasn't until one night that everything changed. You're still unsure if it was for better or worse.

You were changing into far more comfortable clothes than you'd been wearing all day. It was finally Friday, something you were very grateful for since work had been nothing but tedious lately. You had the weekend off; it seemed like an eternity since you had been free for a couple of days.

As you slipped on your favorite and very worn-out t-shirt, your phone rang. "Ugh, what now?" you whined. You were suddenly regretting your words as you picked up the phone; his throaty voice filled your ears, and you felt instantly better. It was almost embarrassing.

"I heard you had a shitty week," he says, "I am coming over."

"How'd you know that?"

"The more important question here is why have you been in New York for days and didn't tell me? I'm actually hurt, love."

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just been a little rough."

The guilt immediately washes over you. You knew that you should have called or even sent him a quick text, but your mind was only focused on getting through the week. It was like you were on autopilot.

"I will be there in 20 minutes." he replies, hanging up.

Without anything better to do, you decide to wash some dishes that have been sitting in the sink since last night while you wait for Pedro to arrive. You quickly finish that and then decide to pass the remaining time by reading a book you started a couple of weeks ago. You flip through the book's pages, trying to recall where you left off because the earmarked corner you'd marked seemed to have disappeared.

Before you can find the page, your cellphone screen lights up again, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye, and though it feels silly and childish, you can feel the way your heart leaps and your chest tightens just a fraction when you read the notification and see Pedro's name. "I'm here."

You rush to the door, flinging it open with a gust of energy, and you find him standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other holding a bag, a crooked smile on his lips. "I brought wine and takeout from that place you love down on 54th." It had been months since you'd last seen him, and it was like no time had passed at all. He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you take the bag, allowing your eyes to meet his with a smile. Fuck.

As you set everything on the kitchen counter, you both decide to eat right away. The warm, inviting scent of the food spread throughout the kitchen, and it was as if all your worries and tiredness had disappeared. The conversation flowed perfectly as you both devoured the delicious food, and you were grateful for the moment of peace.

After finishing your meal, he helps you collect everything and clean up the kitchen.

"You’ll get wrinkles if you keep working that hard, mama," he tells you as he throws something in the trash can, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't call me that," you giggle, a little tipsy from the wine. "It makes me feel—" you stop yourself before you finish the sentence. Fuck.

"It makes you feel what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Well, it makes you feel embarrassed, as if you have let your guard down and revealed too much of your innermost thoughts. And it gives you butterflies. But you don't tell him that. "Nothing," you say, "it's just funny."

You knew you didn't have it in you to keep your thoughts, body, and face under control, especially when he was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded, looking like he just stepped out of a movie. You were feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your thoughts were written all over your face, so you did what you do best: you changed the subject.

"Remember that one time we got high on edibles to go see The Incredibles 2?" you blurt, hoping he would forget what just came out of your mouth. He looked at you for a moment, as if he were considering your question, before bursting out in laughter.

"How could I forget?" he says. "It's one of our finest moments."

"Would you like to repeat the occasion?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time, baby."

You go to one of the kitchen drawers and pull out the box of cookies. "I can't believe you're offering me drugs." Pedro says in a dramatic tone.

"Oh shut up, do I need to remind you whose idea it was last time?" you roll your eyes, grabbing two cookies and throwing one at him.

"Should we honor last time and watch a movie?" he says as he takes a bite of the cookie.

To be entirely honest, you should have known that things were about to go off the rails the very moment the man at the other end of the couch, in that impossibly confident and seductive voice, asked you to come closer. "You're miles away from me, princesa."

If you had been wise, you would have politely declined. If you had any sense of self-preservation when it came to Pedro, you would have declined his offer and avoided thinking about him fucking you into this very couch. But you weren't wise, which is why your legs are thrown over his lap and his fingers are drawing circles in your thighs. Pedro’s gaze feels like a caress, and his voice is thick, "You look like you're thinking too hard."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"I said you looked like you were thinking too hard." he replies, "What's running through that pretty head of yours?"

Your teeth are tugging at your bottom lip in a way that Pedro seems to find distracting because he nearly slips up and breaks the carefully maintained eye contact, his gaze darting down just a fraction of an inch. You don't know where the courage came from, but you lean in on your elbows, lifting yourself from the laying position you were in, closing the gap even further until it's impossibly small.

You can tell you know what you've been doing when you pause with only a breath of space between your mouth and his, worrying at your lip with the intention of getting him to break first, like you’re challenging him to decide where this goes next. "What do you think I'm thinking about?" you finally reply, your gaze not wavering for a second. Pedro's hesitation is just a second before his mouth parts, leaning in just enough to touch your forehead and close his eyes.

"I think you're thinking about all the wrong things we could be doing right now instead of watching this boring movie."

"I think you're correct."

His lips curl into a smile, pulling away only slightly to look you in the eye, his voice barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"

And that's when it happens. You lean in, your lips slamming into his so quickly that your thumb gets caught in the middle. He nips at it, biting down a little harder than he wanted to, but you don't mind and simply move it out of the way, sliding it away from his mouth and resting it across his cheekbone. You straddle his lap, and as his hands find their way to your waist and his lips move ever so hungrily against yours, you feel a fire inside.

Everything is happening so fast, and the room is spinning around you. You're not sure if you're feeling this way because of the drugs or because of Pedro. You can feel the pressure of his hands against your skin and a warmth radiating through you; all you know is that you don't want it to end. As you begin to grind against his hard on, he moves his hands to your ass and grips it tightly.

"You like that, hm?" he rasps, between kisses. You moan in agreement, and one of his free hands travels up your body to the nape of your neck and squeezes it tightly. You gasp at the sensation and move your body to match his movements, pushing yourself closer against him.

It's rough and messy. You're both desperate, as if you've been waiting your entire lives to do this. Pedro's hands covered your entire body, and his mouth kissed your neck and mouth roughly, as if trying to make up for the years of anticipation.

"Fuck, P," you moan; he wasn't giving you even a second to breathe.

"Tell me what you need, princesa."

"I need you to touch me."

"Your wish is my command."

Pedro moved quickly, his fingers caressing and teasing your body as he worshipped you with each touch until he finally reached your shorts.

He slides his hand down your panties and groans. "I haven't even touched you properly, and you're already wet, baby." His fingers pressed down softly as he moved around your clit, rubbing and massaging it until you felt yourself close to the edge. He manages to get his free hand under your shirt, and he massages your breasts, pinching your nipples softly as you moan in pleasure.

"Are you gonna come for me, princesa, hm?"

"Y-yeah..." you gasp, not even ashamed of how quickly your orgasm was approaching, "I can't... hold it..."

He took that as a sign to go faster and harder, and as he continued to draw circles on your clit, a wave of pleasure swept through your body, culminating in a moan that signaled your impending climax.

"Fuck!" you screamed as you came suddenly, body trembling and hips bucking once more. Pedro let out a groan at the sight and sounds you were making. You're both gasping for air, one of his hands on one side of your face, your foreheads touching.

And that's when it happens. Instant regret.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

What have you done?

reblog or like if you enjoyed it!

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #my writing

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pup-pee · 8 months ago

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oh god so many of the tags got messed up y did i type this in tags i thought it was gonna b a small ramble but no some1 help theyre in my head

i want to put bart in a time loop. konbart time loop au. is this anything

#i dont want it 2 seem like im setting him up #UHM YES YES !!!!!!!!YESSSW?A?FALKJFLJA !#SOME1 PUT THAT CRITTER IN A TIME LOOP RN!!!!!!!!!!!#BUT LIKE FUCKIONG OP RATTLES UR BRAIN SHAKES U #bart bing in such disbelief he doesnt even REALIZE he traveled back in time & created a whole timeloop like im on my knees pounding the gro #d w/my fist shaking it up in the sky thats so #I TOTLALY VIBE W/THE WHOLE BART TELLING KON HES GONNA DIE & HE CANT DO ANYTHING & KON JUST BELIEVING HIM #i think it would b awful if on that day kon actually lived a bit longer than the rest THEN died #haha false sense of security kachow #like it would b bart trying 2 save kon whos fighting in metropolis #then after that day it turns in2 bart trying 2 keep kon out of metropolis? ig??? something like that idk #brain goes brrrrr @ time loops i love time loops sm i think about them all the time its like my trope fhdsjgfkjshd /hj BUT LIKE FR #also kon would definatly believe bart every single time bart brings up the fact hes in a timeloop((when he does)) like the HHHHHHHHH CAUSE #im thinking about the fucking whole “i know bart. bart wouldnt lie about this” THING #idk how angsty the original plot of ops timeloop idea goes but finding stuff out in 1((or multiple)) of the days then that day gets reset #but ur now burdened w/that knowledge but u dont want 2 say anything bc it seems invasive now bc this day kon didnt tell him but “yesterdays #kon did & if bart brought up anything “yesterday” kon said it would b just like awkward?? omg english hard IT WOULD FEEL LIKE invasive was #i want 2 talk about this w/kon again bc it helped him emotionally((or whatever?)) but edit;ILOST WHERE THIS TAG WENT HELPPPP #actually good word 4 this but its not invasive but it is? bc kon hasnt had that specific conversation w/bart or experiance #also i think it would b like heart breaking 2 b like or smth like that LISTEN LISTEN I THINK SM SOMETIMES JUST ALSO ALSOSALSOAOSLO U CANT #IN REVERSE ALMOST???? bc bart PANICKED & just having an awful time having kon die in his arms((literally or not)) a lot of time #would defiantly make him say somethings & whatnot so like. it would feel awful 2 dump something on 1 day then it having been basically era #erased then BASICALLY JUST A CYCLE IG??? like omg i cant explain this right like my brain wont allow me okk uhm it would also feel frustrai #ing 2 all hell bc just the idea of “Y CANT I SAVE HIM” would drive bart((or any1)) mad haha i love timeloops didjaknow? fkahfdjk bUT LIKE #WHEN U GET 2 THAT POINT U START SEEING THE RAWEST FORM OF THAT CHARACTER BC THEY START 2 GET DESPRITE & personally IMO IMO i dont think bar #would b the best @ handling this @ 1st? i cant explain i mean im sure i could try but tags is not the place lol #im imagining this from kons point of view where he just sees bart everyday w/a new extreme emotion((not that he remembers the others ofc lo #liek theres prolly a day when bart completely avoided kon & explained nothing. yk????? PLS TELL ME IM MAKING SENSE KFLHSAKJF i hope i am #i need 2 continue writing my timeloop bart yj cartoon fic......sighs dies #ill stop rambling in ops tags.......kfdlashfkjds but like my yj cartoon timeloop fic doesnt have kon in it SO LIKE HHHHHHHHHH srry again...

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diremoone · 1 year ago

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tlc, baby | g. satoru

w — periods, mentions of severe cramps, concerned bf ‘toru who doesn’t like seeing his gf in pain, an author who wanted toji to win the poll but is gonna do all the boys anyway bc toji, and the fact that this is too short and crummy omg (don’t write while hungry haha), hopefully toji’s is longer and better :D

[ divider cred @/firefly-graphics ]

5:14 am

The wake up is sudden, abrupt and extremely painful. You know what’s going on, but the second you try and do something about it, you find yourself sinking to the floor beside the bed in misery.

You really don’t want to walk downstairs, that’s gonna be misery. But if you don’t get and remedy this soon, you fear it’s just going to become worse.

It also sucks because your boyfriend isn’t home. You’d really, really like him to be home. But he isn’t. He’s out looking for an elusive Special Grade curse that nearly took out Mei Mei a few weeks ago on behalf of the stupid elders.

You’d curse them more if you didn’t feel like shit.

You burrow your head into the mattress and focus. Gathering up a little bit of energy, you stand and make your way to the kitchen, only to end up sitting down by the cabinets. You groan, knees up close to your chest to try and relieve some of the pain. You’re tempted to bang your head into the cabinets a few times, but the rationality of not adding more pain to the mix won over.

You can barely think straight; one second there’s the thought of running a bath and the next it’s waves of pain. You think about what’s in the fridge, then you’re overwhelmed by the intense need to barf.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

And then a loud voice echoes through the large home from your bedroom.

“Baaaaaabbbeeee!”

You snicker at your boyfriend who teleported into the bedroom that doesn’t have you in it. You hide your laughter behind your hand until another wave of agony rolls over your uterus and up your spine.

Satoru eventually finds you in the kitchen (after looking in the bathroom and under the bed). His smile disappears the second he sees you, but you don’t take notice since your forehead is burrowed into the wood of the cabinet door. He frowns, not liking the expression on your face.

“Baby?”

Satoru crouches and lowers the black mask you’d gotten him for his birthday. His heavenly blue eyes flicker up and down with worry.

“Monthly,” you manage to get out, and he instantly knows what you mean. Your entire body shakes with a shudder, so much so that the giant man is easily lifting you onto his lap to cuddle, his back now the one that presses against the wall of the kitchen.

Satoru is a heater, nothing short of the furnace that you’ve been in need of. One large, hot hand is pressed against your back, the other tucked against your lower abdomen in just the right spot. And the relief you feel makes you literally dizzy.

Your massive boyfriend however, is even more concerned than ever. The amount of stress he’d felt release from your body was nothing short of insane to him. You’d always relax and let go of all your stress in his hold, yes, but the amount of tension to how limp you were in his big arms was borderline upsetting.

You’ve never been this tense, this stressed. How long had you been like this before he was home?

“I’ll be okay,” you speak to him breathlessly. “I just need something for the pain and something to eat.”

Satoru lists off some things in the pantry and fridge, all of which makes your stomach turn and just burrow your head into his shoulder more. It isn’t until he gets to the sweeter side of the food you do have does the nausea fade away.

He reluctantly pulls away and grabs a familiar looking container on top of the fridge with a mischievous smile, one of his hands still holding yours as he stretches his massive 6’3 body across the kitchen to nab the period painkillers you need.

You don’t see him shove them and a small water bottle in his pocket, but you see him wrap his giant hand around the white container right before he fucking lifts you up off of the counter with one fucking arm and carries you back to bed.

But you don’t complain. You’re way too lethargic and fatigued. And why would you anyway?

He places you back on your side of the bed and gently plops the white container on your lap before kicking off his shoes and whips off his jacket so dramatically that you laugh. You scream as he jumps on the bed, almost on top of you. Satoru does nothing but laugh like a lunatic in return while he turns on the TV across from the bed.

Like magnets, you two end up snuggled deep into the big, thick pillows your boyfriend has propped up behind you in an instant. One of his arms is wrapped around you as you nestle into his side. But the fun doesn’t last. Your brows furrow as another wave of searing pain washes over you from your uterus. You groan and dip your nose into his collar, sharply inhaling and shakily exhaling.

“Here’s the magic pills, baby. Take ‘em.” Satoru’s voice is not the same, high-pitched excitable one he normally has. It’s the deep voice, the one he uses when he’s diving into his emotions. It’s the voice that he uses when he’s sharing his love with you in bed, or when he’s simply just loving you and taking care of you. Just like he is now. The tone of his voice is calming, relaxing, reassuring; all of the above makes your brain go fuzzy.

You pop the pill-shaped-relief in and chug it down with water and ‘toru wraps his arm around you, tugging you to him sweetly. He pops open the large white container, revealing all the chocolate chip cookies inside of it.

You laugh. “Oh my god, Satoru! This is what this is?”

“What else could it possibly be?” he jokes.

Not even a few minutes later though, the agony returns. The tearing feeling from your uterus is almost too much, lasting almost all the way through the Disney castle intro and the first couple minutes of Big Hero 6 with your head tucked into your boyfriend’s collar.

Satoru presses a kiss to your head and puts his hands in the same spots from earlier, with just as much tension leaving your body. He exhales silently.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells you. “It’s not worth it.”

“Want to…” you mumble, then let out a heavy sigh as heavy cramps roll over you again. “You’ve been gone a week.” You aim for a cookie and eat it in two bites.

Just like the cookies, you’re sweet — too sweet and too good for him, and he swears by it. He presses another kiss to the top of your head and replies, “Spend time with me by getting some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. And I’ll take care of you tomorrow, too. Whatever my girl wants.”

“…. Sure?”

“Positive.”

“…..Mmmmm’kay.”

Satoru knows you’re still awake and working through the pain even half an hour later. You may not be watching the movie, but you’re still listening, giggling when Fred screams, “CAR!” to Wasabi as the villain tries to kill them.

It’s not too long after that though, he feels your cursed energy finally relax. Your body is clearly slack against his own. He chuckles at feeling a little bit of drool soak through his shirt. You’re in a deep sleep, thank goodness. And he hopes it stays that way. The medicine worked. He wasn’t sure if his eyes could take the sight of your cursed energy bearing that much sufferance much longer before cracking himself.

Satoru closes his own heavenly blue eyes to sleep. Yeah, he’ll definitely be here tomorrow. Taking care of his woman was going to be his first priority. Mission be damned.

”G’night sweets. See you in the morning.”

@vagabond-umlaut — @heresan — @dellalyra — @torusmochi — @nayrring — @out-of-reach22

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojou x reader #gojo satoru #gojo oneshot #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk oneshot

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wroteclassicaly · 4 months ago

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18+

Warnings: Language, smut, and NSFW. Reader uses lipstick on Eddie’s back.

~*~

When you let Eddie use your naked back as a place to outline his campaign plan with his figurines, in exchange, also using your lipstick on his body for a little extra fun…

It’s a story that will be for the history books, it will. Eddie running out of paper and forgetting to add it to his convenience store list - a tale as old as time, really. Having to rely on one sheet you’d scrounged from your small pocket journal — with minimal space for game plan, Eddie was irritated. But you’d been in a playful mood all day, teasing him, taunting him, wearing that oversized t-shirt with a printed bouquet of flowers on it, and having the audacity to change out of your normal underwear for a thong.

“You’re not wearin’ any underwear there, sweetheart,” he says, watching your shirt ride up and the fat of your ass spill out around the thin piece of fabric.

You hum, chewing on your gum, blowing a bubble that touches your cute nose, acting nonchalant — ergo, making Eddie Munson go crazy. “Yes I am, and you know it.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, continuing to rifle through his things, before giving up. He knees his way into the bed with you, arm tossing around your shoulders, kneading tension with a mannerism, in which, only he can provide for you. You form a plan quickly, reaching for your discarded purse on his nightstand, forgoing your magazine to show him an extremely bright, neon red lipstick. “Here’s a pencil.”

“And just what do you propose, little devil of mine?” He’s amused, mirth glittering in those chocolate eyes when you turn into his cheeky smile.

“You’ve got a pencil - check. Well, I do. But that’s for later.” You place the lipstick aside. “And you need a canvas, right?”

He’s nodding slowly, eyebrow raised. “Well established, yes.”

You perform an erotic act next, one that Eddie can’t describe. You reach back to yank on your hem, tugging your shirt up your back until it’s around your neck, then you lift your head, slide it down your arms, and fling it across room — without even showing him just a glimpse of your beautiful tits. He’s cursing, jaw dropping. And then you’re propping on your tucked arms. “A fleshy expanse, for lack of better word terms.”

“You… I… you’re shittin’ me.”

You shake your head. “Nope. Write down a general idea on your paper, then act it out on my back. But only if I get to have a little fun of my own on yours.”

Eddie thinks he’s passed on again. But as you relax back down, he immediately gets to work outlining on his one sheet of paper. It’s done after what feels like forever, but has been half an hour (he hasn’t finished, needing a halfway break by your distraction.) It’s enough for him to slide off his bed and go grab his little figurines he normally maps out on a bigger sheet of paper. You sigh with their tiny little presses, Eddie muttering out commands to them, lining them, shifting. And your ass wiggles a bit, causing him to lose all focus.

He tosses everything aside and it clatters to the floor, but you’re rushing him before he can even adjust the growing hardness between his legs. You shove him onto his stomach, straddling his backside in surprise, a giggle as you sweep the curls off his naked shoulder blades, his ears perking up as he hears the cap click off your lipstick.

“Babe…” he warns, a whine dipping off his hot mouth.

“Shh, you had your fun, now it’s my turn.” And Eddie awaits your ‘fun’, cock trapped between his stomach and the mattress, throbbing.

It’s a weird sensation to have your makeup marking his way — cool and kinda sticky. He doesn’t resist the smirk at his own joke. But he’s curious, he’s turned on, he’s a hot rod smoking at the wheels. And only does he let out the extreme breath he’s been holding, when he hears the cap return. You blow along his back, causing his nipples to perk, and he is lifting himself up.

He can’t wait anymore. He doesn’t care what you’ve drawn on him (an attempt at a bat with heart eyes), he’ll find out later… You’re already consenting with blown pupils and a matching nod, lipstick landing on the dresser across the room from a careless throw. Eddie’s voice is a low rumble, practically making his chain bounce from its echo. He licks his mouth, the corner of his lip, and he speaks. “Turn back around for me, pull your thong down.”

You comply, soaked and ever-so-willing. It makes him cocky, giddy. His sweats catching on his cock as he lowers them below his ass. He can’t wait. Spreads your cheeks apart to see how you glisten for him, how messy your curls are, and ring clad fingers spread you open and he watches, spare hand jerking himself with his pre to slick up. His hands finds yours over the headboard as he takes you, across your sticky flesh, the lipstick stained bat moving when the muscles beneath his skin do…

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crabsnpersimmons · 10 months ago

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This one goes out to all the slow burn enjoyers, the dense Y/Ns, and the soft robo jesters that suffer in silence!

Inspired by @bamsara's “Solar Lunacy” fic.

If you feel like reading my ramblings and want to experience more heartbreak for fictional jester blorbos, check under the cut where I detail all the planning behind the frames!

so i heard this song for the first time in a while and the opening lyrics immediately made me think of moon, so i was daydreaming some scenes and then i decided to thumbnail some ideas:

and it all went downhill from there as everything became a metaphor and a parallel to each other, which i will now go into detail on!

you thought the animatic itself was sad?

*writing muse laughs maniacally* IT'S ALL A METAPHOR

Frame 1. "turn down the lights" We start with a back view on Moon. The lights are out, the Moon is out, but we do not see his face. The music and the greyscale atmosphere are enough to establish the weight of the moment and the weight on Moon’s mind.

Frame 2. "turn down the bed" We cut to a shot of Moon's body, kneeling on the ground of the daycare, like a padded cell. Moon’s hands are twitching with the effects of the glitch, with purple sparks coming from his hands. We still do not see his face.

Frame 3. "turn down these voices inside my head" Cut to an extreme close up on the dark half of Moon’s face. Now we see his face, but only a portion of it. His left eye is wide open, red and glitching out. The voices in his head can refer to the glitch but also his repressed feelings. Or maybe it could be Sun's voice in their shared headspace.

Frame 4. "lay down with me" Y/N's hand enters the frame from the upper right corner, lowering down to meet Moon where he kneels on the ground. Only a corner of Moon's face appears on the bottom left corner of the frame, his starry nightcap beginning to cover his glitched left eye.

Frame 5. "tell me no lies" An full shot of Moon on the floor and Y/N standing in front of him with their hand stretched towards him. A light spills out from behind Y/N, creating a boundary between them.

Now we see more of Moon. It is only when Y/N enters the frame—enters his world—that Moon’s body is shown in its entirely. When Y/N is here, he is no longer fragmented. He is whole.

Frame 6. "just hold me close" pspspspsps Playfully, Moon extends his own hand, beckoning Y/N to come closer, to join him. His right hand crossed over his body as he uses the playful gesture to hide his true feelings—to put distance between him and Y/N. His hat continues to cover his glitching left eye. He doesn’t want to worry Y/N.

Frame 7. "don't patronize" In response, Y/N’s hand pats Moon on the head, returning his playfulness. Moon looks surprised by the action. Moon, notably, does not lower his hand—perhaps he has forgotten it or perhaps his invitation is still open.

Frames 8-9. "don't patronize me" Moon rotates his faceplate so Y/N’s hand is touching the side of his faceplate, a more intimate gesture than a head pat. However, his hat is in the way. At this angle, his starry nightcap fully covers his glitchy eye and the dark side of his face, hiding his defect and acting as a veil between him and Y/N. A self-imposed boundary. So close, yet thinly separated. It's better this way. It's safer this way.

The lyrics are broken up by Y/N's arm, both to illustrate how the song is sung ("patronize" is drawn out and "me" is briefly added in before the chorus starts) but also to show how Y/N interrupts Moon's resolve, highlighting the irony between the visuals and the lyrics. Demanding not to be patronized, yet Moon happily accepts this play at intimacy. Don't patronize me, I am weak for it.

This is also the only instance where the red light of Moon's eyes glow and tint the surfaces around it. Visually, it makes it look like Moon is blushing (heavily inspired by @restinsodaroni's art). But also, in this moment of honesty, Moon's intrinsic light spills out, colouring the greyscale world. In this brief moment of honesty, Moon touches the world with his own colours, his own light.

(and this is also where i forgot to clean up the shading on Y/N's arm, but it's okay it doesn't need to be perfect it simply needs to be. And Moon will still love Y/N even if they are a continuity error.)

Frame 10. "'cause I can't make you love me if you don't" A parallel to a frame 4, Y/N retrieves their hand away and immediately Moon is reduced to the corner of his faceplate in the frame. Only now his glitched eye is fully covered by his hat.

The lyrics here (and in the next frame) in particular grow lighter to emphasize Moon's diminishing resolve and agency.

From here on out, the lyrics here are broken up, carrying on this theme of fragmentation. Y/N is pulling away, Moon is breaking up, the words are breaking up. Everything is coming apart.

Frame 11. "you can't make your heart feel something it won't" Y/N turns to leave. The lyrics, broken up as before, highlight the irony of the situation. Y/N, a human, can’t feel something they simply don’t feel. Whereas, Moon, the machine, feels something his code never intended him to feel.

Frame 12. "here in the dark in these final hours" Another full shot that parallels frame 5, as Y/N steps towards the light and Moon leans forward into the space Y/N once occupied. Y/N is leaving—that which makes him whole is leaving. And he is only capable of making it to the boundary where the light cuts into the darkness. The "final hours" suggest it might be the end of Y/N’s shift, or perhaps this scene takes place right before the glitch takes over—the final hours that Y/N has with the true Moon. Either way, time is running out—and only Moon knows it.

There is a contrasting display of body language here. Moon is on the floor leaning towards Y/N with his hand still left out. Whereas Y/N is turned away, walking away, and has already slipped their hand away and into their pocket. Y/N is closed off while Moon is limply open. Y/N is actively moving while Moon is on the floor, waiting, hoping, for that which he lacks the agency to reach for himself.

Frame 13. "I will lay down my heart" A close up on Moon’s hand, rising up again, perhaps to beckon Y/N back once more. This is a slight parallel to Y/N's hand reaching out to Moon. While Y/N can freely reach out and touch Moon, Moon cannot. He can't enter the light and more importantly he can't risk potentially harming his relationship with Y/N—be it through the glitch or by his feelings. He can only lay down his heart—put aside his feelings or hope that someone will pick up his pieces and make him whole.

Frame 14. "and I'll feel the power" Still on a close up on Moon’s hand, now clenched in slightly. This initially was going to have the glitch effects. However, I felt it more meaningful for it to be left without. Leave it up for interpretation why Moon pauses his hand. What is the power that he alone feels and stays his hand?

Frame 15. "but you won't, no, you won't" A parallel to frame 1, a view of on Moon's back with his hand stretched out towards the light, and Y/N walking into the light spilling through the open daycare door.

The placement of the lyrics suggest two different “you won’t”—Y/N who won’t realize Moon’s feelings, and Moon who won’t dare speak them into reality.

Another note on the parallel to frame 1, this time we also see Y/N's back, but it is notably different from our view of Moon's back. With Moon, we literally see inside him through the hole for his loop. However, Y/N is shrouded in shadow, just a solid, obscure silhouette against the bright light of a world Moon—and Sun for that matter—are closed off from. We don’t see into Y/N, just as the Daycare Attendant doesn't have any vantage point of Y/N's life beyond their time at the PizzaPlex. (The unfortunate reality of a being a character made for the purpose of being a vessel for the reader.)

Frame 16. "'cause I can't make you love me" We finally cut to face Moon head-on, frozen in place with his hand stretched out, unable to cross the boundary into the light. His eyes have gone dark. Where we began by seeing bits and parts of Moon, and never seeing his full face—now we, the viewer, see the full Moon, open and vulnerable—unbeknownst to Y/N.

Frame 17. "if you don't" But in the dark, behind closed doors, there is no one to perceive him—no one to receive him. The light dwindles as the daycare doors are closed. Moon stays frozen where he kneels. It is no longer the glitch that plagues him, but a far deeper dread.

But a lone streak of light peaks through the gap in the daycare doors. Perhaps that is just enough. A silver lining. A frail hope. A single, ethereal thread out of darkness and into light.

Thanks for reading and watching!

We'll be back to our regularly scheduled fun and games shortly!

#fnaf moon #fnaf dca #dca fandom #so this idea had me by the throat ever since I heard this song again #I've never done an animatic before but I wanted to give it a shot #the opening lyrics already reminded me of moon right off the bat #but then i kept listening and started thumbnailing some frames #it was actually the frames with moon receiving the head pat and turning his faceplate that convinced me i had to do this lol #the sweetest images resulted in this work of angst #thank you if you read all this!#i promise to post something cute soon to balance things out #and no promises but i will say the second verse of the song is PERFECT for sun #“morning will come and I'll do what's right just give me 'till then to give up this fight” /lyrics #hahaha it hurts :')#crab art #traditional art #digital art #traditionally inked and digitally coloured #animatic

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jpitha · 2 months ago

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The Oxygen Breathers: Sales Pitch

It wasn't until Late Summer Storm was being strapped into the small human ship that he realized that it was really really happening. Sure, he had seen the extremely small ships the humans had brought out to show off; a resurrection of a very old design, they said. And sure, he had noticed that one of them had two seats instead of one. They had said that one was for training or ride alongs, would he like to try it out? And sure, in a moment sans sanity, Late Summer Storm had agreed to the ride.

That as going to be it, right? They'd find some incompatibility, or there would be some political fallout and he wouldn't have to go. Face would be saved by all.

But no. The humans were so excited about the prospect they - to use one of their own strange idioms - 'moved heaven and earth' to make it happen.

First was political. Summer had hoped that Innari high command would balk at the idea of one of their own being wedged into a prototype human ship, but to his dismay, they were excited about the idea. They were so excited in fact that several members of the Isolators had paid him a visit and informed him in no uncertain terms that he was to be cooperative, polite, and above all, interested in what he was being shown. Interested enough to recall it, and write a report on the state of humanity's technology. His feathers fluttering nervously at a visit from the secret police, Summer agreed. He would report back on what he learned about their singleship, the one they called a fighter.

Next was logistical. Innari don't breath the same gas mixture as humans. It's not as dramatic a difference as say, the Von, who have much more methane hexafluoride in their breathing gas, but humanity's breathing mixture has frankly an irresponsible amount of oxygen in it. Oxygen narcosis occurs for Innari who breathe human concentrations and pressures of oxygen, and they die shortly after. The Innari medical community has published research papers stating that they are pretty sure that the humans suffer from oxygen narcosis too, they're just... used to it. 'Fortunately' for Summer, the human fighters had plumbing and fittings for hardsuits and supplemental breathing gas. Summer would wear a pressure suit and bring a atmosphere generator and his human pilot would do the same.

When the appointed day arrived, Summer stood in the too bright lights of the ship bay of the human Nullship Kon-Tiki. His pressure suit - a brand new one, printed up by the Innari navy, tailored and form fitted to his body - felt heavy and squeezed his feathers uncomfortably because of their higher gravity and atmo pressure.

Among the human workers bustling around without pressure suits - or really that much in the way of clothing either - someone walked in wearing a heavily armored pressure suit. Made of segmented pieces of reinforced coropolymer, they looked like they were headed to the front lines of a war, not a joyride.

"Late Summer Storm?" The voice said over his radio. He could speak their language, but he had his suit translate with subtitles in the bottom of his vision. It helped when they got going and spoke too quickly, or used some obscure idiom that needed translation. They translator also helped with body language. "I'm Captain Meghan Delrin, I'll be piloting today." They saluted sharply, and Summer noticed how maneuverable their suit was, even though it was quite heavily armored.

"Thank you, Captain. Please, call me Summer. My full name is unnecessary now." He said, turning to look at the fighter. "I am... interested in our upcoming flight."

"Are you now?" Captain Delrin laughed. Summer was surprised at the sound. He hadn't heard a human laugh before. The staccato pulses of sound were much different than the more musical Innari laughter. "You look like you're on your way to a funeral."

Summer's eyes flicked down to the translator for help with the phrase. She thinks you look despondent it said, helpfully. "Oh, please don't misunderstand Captain. I am grateful for the opportunity and I am excited to learn what your fighters can do, it's just..." He struggled for the word in their language. "Scary." That was probably closest.

To Summer's surprise Captain Delrin lifted her glass face covering, revealing her own face squeezed tightly in the foam of her helmet, surrounded by wires and blinking lights. He had no idea they were crammed into their suits so tightly! They moved so fluidly he had assumed their suits were much more loose fitting. "Summer, I want to make this crystal clear. We are doing everything within out power to make sure that this flight goes without incident and is even boring, but-" she raised a gauntleted finger "-we're scared too. If we weren't, we would run the risk of making mistakes. Scared is good. Scared means you're careful." The glass folded back down. "Come on, Summer, Let's get seated and belted."

The fighter was so small that there wasn't a door, per se. The clear canopy slid open and flipped up, revealing the two seats, side by side. Captain Delrin sat on the left, and Summer's seat was on the right. His seat was filled with pieces of closed cell foam, to fill in the gaps and hollow spots making up the differences between their bodyplans. Summer had spent a few hours in the fitting room with some very terse engineers sitting down and standing up, sitting down and standing up, until they were satisfied. As he sat, the seat was comfortable and he was belted in by more engineers. When they were finished, they looked at him for confirmation. He nodded and made the gesture he was taught - his outer manipulators and sensory feathers curled around into a fist, except for one pointing straight up. The human returned the gesture, saluted, and backed down the ladder.

As Captain Delrin was belted in, she had been pressing buttons and flipping switches. The fighter began to hum and throb as it came to life, motors rising in pitch and maneuvering jets puffing. Summer's sense of balance was thrown off for a moment, and then it recovered. "What was that?" he asked as Captain Delrin continued to start the fighter.

"Gyro" she said without stopping. "We can spin the ship for free with it. Good for tracking targets and maneuvering. Why? Did you feel it?"

Summer nodded, and then realizing she wouldn't be able to see the gesture said "Yes, I felt it. Is it magnetic?"

"It is suspended in a mag field, but the gyro itself is not, why?"

"We're sensitive to electromagnetism. It was how our ancient ancestors navigated our world."

"Huh. That makes sense I guess." She said, looking at him now. "Will it be an issue?"

"I don't know" Summer said. "But, I don't think it's enough of a reason to stop the ride."

"Fair enough."

Eventually they were warmed up and at power, and a small tug wheeled them to the launch tube. Captain Delrin explained that during a battle, the fighters could be launched every few minutes "But the ride is rough" she added.

Summer wondered what 'rough' was to a human when he heard the launching clamps grab the ship. Captain Delrin looked to an officer on the side, saluted, they returned the salute, and they launched.

Much later, Summer had to watch the video playback to see the launch. The fighter was shot out of the Nullship at a withering five gees. Captain Delrin grunted and took sharp breaths but was otherwise unharmed as Summer regained consciousness. "You made it Summer! Glad to have you with us once again." Delrin said, laughing. "We made it a light launch in deference to you. Normally we launch at twenty gee with the compensator set to ten."

"These fighters have a compensator and you didn't activate it?" Summer's whole body ached from the launch.

"What fun would that be? You have to feel some of the forces, it keeps you honest. Now then." Delrin flipped some switches and the color of her screens changed. "Let's see what we can see."

They spent the next solar hour flying around, showing Summer what the fighter was capable of. He had to admit, the maneuverability of the teeny ship was impressive. "But why?" he finally asked.

"Why what?"

"Why-" he gestured at the console "-all this. You have your Nullships, and they are more heavily armed than one of our Battlecruisers. They can travel farther, faster, and hit harder than anything in the Coalition. Why do you need fighters?"

Delrin reduced the throttle until they were practically coasting relative to the Nullship. "That's a good observation Summer. We have a few reasons. One, fighters will help us to engage multiple targets at once. The Coalition knows that our Nullships are powerful, so if they were ever to attack us, they would come at us en mass. A swarm of less powerful ships could overwhelm our targeting, and could do damage. Fighters could engage them, and divide their efforts."

Summer nodded to himself. His own government had decided that If anyone were to attack the humans, a swarm of a huge number of ships was just about the only way to have any chance of success.

"The second reason, is we're hoping to sell them." Delrin said matter-of-factly.

"You're what?" Summer stared dumbfounded. He couldn't have heard that correctly.

"We're going to offer them up for sale. The Coalition's defenses are woefully underdeveloped. Something like this is just what they need to help defend themselves.

"You'll give the other Coalition peoples weapons?"

"Not for free, but yes, why not?"

"It's just..." The Innari never shared technology. The idea of such a thing was too dangerous. Sell a weapon today, and tomorrow it could be turned back onto you. "What if the people who buy it use it against you?"

"That could happen, yes." Delrin said thoughtfully. "But history shows us it probably won't. Fighters aren't standalone things. They need parts, maintenance, upgrades, ships to haul them, printable matter, all kinds of ancillaries. If someone buys from us and then attacks..." She shrugged. "They'll find it very hard to keep their new fighters supplied and maintained. Also-" She looked out of the canopy into space. "It would be nice to have an opponent that was more our speed."

Summer was sure she was just playing a trick on him now. "Ha ha, sure thing Captain Delrin. You're telling me that you want to fight?"

"No Summer, we want to fight a good opponent. Someone who thinks on their feet, has close to our level of training and technology, someone who makes it worth while. Do you remember when you came to us and asked for our help? How we brought our ships out of Nullspace and defeated the Felimen almost instantly? It was boring."

"Boring?!"

"Boring. I was on one of the Nullships, Summer. It was practically a drill. People didn't even run. Didn't have to. We slipped out of Null, shot up a few Felimen cruisers, did a little light planetary bombardment, and slipped back into Null."

Summer was stunned into silence. The Felimen were a fierce enemy that had driven all of the Coalition people back for more than a year, winning battle after battle, claiming more and more space until the humans traded entry into the Coalition for defeating the Felimen.

It took the humans one solar day.

"If we sell some fighters to some of the Coalition who knows? Maybe in a few decades or centuries we'll finally get a good battle. Something really worth going all our for." Delrin said, wistfully. She really sounded like she wanted all out war.

Delrin took them through some more high gee manuvers - with the compensator turned on this time - and demonstrated the weapons; two missile racks, two slug throwers, one exawatt laser and enough printable matter to keep them in consumables for an impressive amount of time. She had fired at some drone targets that the Nullship had launched, and even let Summer have a go at the weapons suite. She ordered a new wave sent out and Summer took over. It was intuitive, and easy to use, and frighteningly effective. As the last drone evaporated in an orange puff of exploding missile Summer looked down at his hands. He had - without any official training - destroyed more targets quicker than any Innari ship he could think of, and this was just a single human fighter!

The demonstration over, Captain Delrin took them back in. The landing was more gentle than the launch, but only just. As they rolled to a stop, the canopy popped open and Delrin's face mask opened again.

"So! How many fighters can we put you down for?"

#The oxygen breathers #writing #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #jpitha #humans and aliens #humans are deathworlders

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h3yl4dies · 8 months ago

Text

✰ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠!

✰ 𝐀𝐤𝐚 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐤𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬!

𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚 : 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

𝘼𝙙𝙢𝙞𝙣'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 : 𝙏𝙔𝙎𝙈 𝙁𝙊𝙍 100 𝙁𝙊𝙇𝙇𝙊𝙒𝙀𝙍𝙎! 𝘽𝙩𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚!! 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙡!!

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 : 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙞 𝙍𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙞 𝙍𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙪 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙮𝙤 𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙯𝙪 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ⚠ : 𝙖 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 & 𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙯𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 💀

☛ 𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈

Him being the most non-caring sadistic motherfucker reacting to a girl crying is very confusing for him

You were recently stressed because of your college assignments and paperwork shit

You were at your room crying quietly until he walked passed your room, heading soft crying whimpers

He went into the room with our knocking and saw you hugging your soaked pillow with your tears on the bed

"Yo what happened?" He said as he sat on the edge of your bed, patting your back slowly as you opened your reddish teary eyes at him

He isn't the best listener, but he is also a good help

You vented your problems and stress to him as he quietly listened

After you were done venting, he suggests that you should not care about your shit rn, you should take a break instead

Oh yeah, hes the type to not take these kind of shit seriously so he would just randomly comfort you and suggest you should rip your assignments in half 💀

"Lmao who cares about studying and homework? They are just here to ruin your life worse so why don't we just burn it?"

He's already handing you a fucking lighter 😭

You tried stopping him from burning the assignments but nvm

Overall, he's not the best listener but he is willing to do whatever he can to make you feel better (in the worse way 💀)

☛ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔

Awh, he's so sweet

Blud is the type to be nonchalant when he actually has the most Pure-sweetest heart ever

You and rindou go to the same high school, during cleaning time. Rindou wanted to borrow a mop from your class

When he went to your classroom, no one was there. You were the only one. You were crying in the empty classroom quietly.

"Huh- wtf-.. Hey what happened..? "

HE'S THE TYPE TO BE SO CONFUSED AND NOT EXPECTING THIS

it turns out that some kid from your class forced you to take over their duty of cleaning the classroom and you were upset about it

When he heard about that, he would be visibly angry.

He would want to gain information about that kid from your class and plan to meet him at the school gate with Ran and beat the shit out of him 🤦‍♀️

"Hey, don't stress about this alright? It's okay, I will help you clean your classroom together"

He feels like the best thing he can do is to help you out, after helping you out, you are gonna plan a funeral for that kid who forced you because rindou isn't joking in planning to beat him up 💀💯

"Don't worry, I will take care of him later but let's quickly finish this alright?"

Overall, he's a good listener! Better than his brother actually

☛ 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎

Oh god

I swear to the fucking lord

HE is the worst one out of these 3 characters I am writing for right now 😭

I AM ACTUALLY BEING FR HE IS THE WORST THERAPIST AND LISTENER

You were recently made fun of, because of your body which made you extremely insecure

You were at the school bathroom stalls crying quietly and locking yourself in the stalls

When he found out about this, boy he isn't gonna turn on the comfort energy, HE BOUTTA TURN ON HIS KILLING SPREE ENERGY INSTEAD 💯🤬🙏

Another reminder, whatever he says might be toxic as fuck

"Why the hell are you crying over this shit? They're just mad"

he might get annoyed from your crying but if he actually cares, he would just kill the bullies tbh

He wants to end things quick and not make it a drama so he would just randomly quickly murder their asses

As you all know, if you seek comfort from him, it isn't gonna be good 😭

He would stutter and think what to say to make you feel better, he has 0 experience from comforting people

"Hey uh, it's alright, stop crying and things will get easier and better"

Overall, he's the least listener and comforter I recommend in here (hey at least he tried 😁)

Thanks for 100 followers again loves<3

☛ 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☛ 𝐎𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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wholoveseggs · 9 months ago

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HIYA GORGEOUS!! I absolutely adore all that you write and here I am once again to request something (tbh I’ll always be here to request things 🤭). So I’d like to request…

y/n (aka me) is Elijah's best friend but she's never met Klaus, only heard about him. one day she surprises Eli for his birthday so she walks in the compound, not knowing that Klaus is there too. she and Elijah exchange hellos then talk for a bit and before they can leave (Elijah is subtly trying to rush her out), Klaus hears her voice and comes downstairs. I'll leave the details to you but she and Klaus instantly hit it off so much so that it makes Elijah jealous (he's always had a thing for y/n but never said anything be he's afraid of losing their friendship). again, leaving the details to you. can we make it a 2-parter? 1 is jealousy/angst w/ implied smut between y/n and Klaus & 2 is Elijah confessing to y/n his feelings which lead to their first time sex and possible future relationship.

Sorry love if this is too much, it's okay if you're not up for it though! Thanks for even indulging me! 🤍

Mine

THIS SCENE MAKES ME GO FERAL

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

A drunken hookup with Klaus complicates your friendship with Elijah, leading to an awkward morning after.

♡♡ Thanks for the request sweet Aurora!! This one was a blast to write. But implied smut with Klaus??? Nahhh. No half-measures here. This is for all my Klaus girlies. You can't fix him, but you sure can fuck him. ♡♡

5k words - Warnings: smutttt {with Klaus}, rough sex, mild choking, Klaus being the drama, Elijah hiding his feelings & Rebekah judging you.

{Part Two}

You came rushing through the gates of the compound, carrying so many shopping bags that you could barely see. Your arms felt on fire, but a little strain was worth it all when you remembered who you were doing this for.

Tonight was Elijah's big birthday bash, put together by you and Rebekah, and you wanted everything to be perfect. Elijah had become one of your closest friends, and this celebration was your chance to show him how much he meant to you.

"Eli, I have so much stuff for the party. Where should I put it all?" you ask once you got far enough into the house.

Elijah emerged from the grand living room and came into the foyer to help you. He had an odd look on his face, but you couldn't really pinpoint it exactly. He took the bags from your arms and carried them himself.

"Don't look in them! I want it to be a surprise!" You said, putting your hands over his eyes and guiding him towards the table.

Elijah chuckled, "Fine, Fine. Are you sure all of this is necessary?"

"Absolutely." you said, uncovering his eyes. "You only turn 1040 once," you joked, causing the pair of you to laugh.

It was over-the-top as shit, but a girl had to take any opportunity to give a Mikaelson a birthday they would remember, and then some.

Elijah's smile faltered a bit as he looked around the courtyard nervously. "Will you be returning home to get ready for tonight?" He asked, trying not to sound hopeful.

"I'm actually getting ready here with Bekah, why? Have a hot date you are hiding from me?" You teased, unaware of the way Elijah's body stilled at your words.

"Oh no darling, no date, just a brother he wants to hide," said an accented voice from the second level balcony.

Elijah let out a rough sigh as you turned to see Klaus stepping down the stairs towards you both.

You had heard of the legendary hybrid of course, but since you met Elijah you had yet to run into him. In fact, this was the first time you had seen Klaus in person and were unaware of the true look of him. Which made you almost go weak in the knees.

He was hot, like 'fuck me right now hot' and it took everything in you not to drool. It didn't surprise you, all the other Mikaelsons were extremely attractive, so it only stood to reason their infamous hybrid brother would be also.

You could tell by the look on his face he found you just as attractive, and with a devilish smirk, he seemed to say ‘I will fuck you right now if that's what you wish’

"Hello love, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he drawled before bringing your hand up and kissing it softly.

You wanted to hate him. Klaus had been notorious for so long for his tantrums and viciousness. But one look and just a touch from his lips and you knew you were doomed.

"T-Thanks," you said, pulling your hand back.

Klaus tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and ran a thumb across your cheek.

"Are you blushing for me? Can't say I blame you, love," he said cockily.

Elijah rolled his eyes at his younger brother's antics, but as Klaus lingered on your skin he felt a stir of possessiveness settle in his bones. He cleared his throat, shooting his brother a glare,

"I would love some help setting up the party for your brother," you asked Klaus, hoping to spend more time with him, his charm quite intriguing.

"It's alright, I can help you," Elijah insisted, not wanting Klaus to interact with you for a multitude of reasons.

"It's supposed to be a surprise for you Eli,” you pouted, which caused Elijah to soften at your cuteness.

"I've got it handled, Eli," Klaus teased, emphasizing the nickname you used for him.

Elijah looked between the two of you, clearly wanting to decline your request and keep you both apart. But alas, for some reason, he couldn't come up with a legitimate reason.

Klaus grabbed your bags and walked off, you began to follow, turning back to give Elijah a wide smile. "See you tonight, birthday boy," you exclaimed happily before hurrying off after the younger Mikaelson.

You spent all afternoon decorating with Klaus, who insisted you call him Nik. He was somewhat sweet but full of himself. Yet, you enjoyed his company, he had a good eye for décor and matched your vision effortlessly.

"Have I accomplished my mission?" he asked. He brought a champagne bottle up, pouring two glasses and giving you one.

You leaned against the pillar with him and clinked your drinks together. "I'd say so, yes. Thank you so much for helping me."

"It was no trouble at all," Klaus said, then smirked at you over his glass. "You are quite stunning, love."

You grinned at his comment, "you should see me after I get all dressed up for tonight," you flirted, even though it sounded more like a challenge to him.

Klaus downed his drink then placed it on the table. Without warning, he pinned you to the pillar and trapped you against him. "Oh I plan on doing more than looking tonight," he said as his hungry eyes traveled over your body.

"I see you two have finally met, how wonderful," Rebekah commented, disrupting the moment.

You laughed nervously, glad for the interruption, gently pushing Klaus off of you. As much as you wanted to jump Klaus then and there, something held you back. And you knew what, or rather, who was keeping you from acting on your desires...

"We were just having some champagne," you tell her, taking another drink.

"I see that, the decorations look amazing by the way," she complimented as she poured herself a glass as well. "Catering has arrived, they are setting everything up downstairs," she informed you, letting you know you should probably get ready.

"I'll go get dressed then. Thank you again, Nik." You smiled at him again, and he grinned in response.

"I think I'm owed a dance for my hard work," he told you as you walked away with Rebekah.

You looked over your shoulder at him and gave him a wink, excited for the party to begin.

Once you were upstairs and away from Klaus, Rebekah spoke quietly to you. "Be careful with him, he's not like Elijah," she warned you.

"No one is like Elijah," you chuckled a bit, ignoring the pang of sadness you felt at the realization you would probably never be with the older Mikaelson.

The two of you spent your time getting ready, sipping on champagne and discussing the numerous guests who would be arriving. You got a little too buzzed, but you were excited and also needed some courage to face an unknown quantity of vampires.

Rebekah always had impeccable taste, helping you pick out a skin tight dress that came a few inches above your knees and accentuated every curve on your body. Adding even more with the tall black heels you slipped on, showing off your legs.

"I'm afraid I might have gone too far," Rebekah chuckled as she applied your makeup, making you look smolderingly hot.

"You think?" You asked sarcastically.

"You look like vampire bait and I'm sure it's going to drive him mad," she snorted, taking another drink.

"Who?" You looked at yourself in the mirror and fixed a smudge of lipstick.

Rebekah gave you a knowing look, but stayed quiet and you just smiled back at her innocently.

When everything was ready and all the guests started arriving, you and Rebekah made a grand entrance into the main parlor. Elijah was talking with someone when his eyes caught you across the room, you wandered over to him and gave him a big hug.

"Happy birthday," you whispered in his ear, as his arms pulled you tighter to him.

"Thank you so much," he said, pulling back just enough to smile at you, his face growing even brighter when he really looked at you.

You noticed the way his eyes traced your figure, taking you all in. The way they darkened a bit with pure desire, making you instantly become hot all over. But it was probably just your imagination, brought on by all the champagne you've been drinking.

You almost made a move right then, but the person he was conversing with interrupted and you found yourself drawn away by Bekah and her friends. Leaving Elijah to watch you from afar as you conversed with them, laughing and drinking.

Hours later, you were still in the middle of the large group of people, even dancing to the music that was blaring through the place. You saw Elijah dancing with a beautiful woman and you wanted to be happy for him, but then the woman whispered in his ear and touched his chest, and your mood immediately soured.

You went to the bar to get a drink, deciding more alcohol might be what you needed to wash away all your confused feelings.

"Thirsty, love?" Asked a familiar voice in your ear as your body was pulled back to collide with a strong chest. You could smell the scent of Klaus's cologne and instantly felt turned on.

"Very," you said, downing your entire shot.

He spun you around to look into your eyes, both of his hands on your waist, drinking in your appearance.

"You didn't have to do all this for me," Klaus teased, his eyes on your chest as he licked his lips. "I'm a sure thing, darling, you know that,"

You couldn't help but laugh. He may have been a lot of things, but he was definitely entertaining. You shook your head, but smiled all the same.

"I only ever dress up for myself, Nik," you sassed back to him, looking up through your lashes.

A slow smirk came to Klaus's face as he leaned in and captured your lips in his. He hummed into the kiss and his grip tightened on you. He pulled away, your lipstick was still on his lips.

You giggled and wiped it off, as he ordered you another drink. Not that you really wanted one but damn, he was good at persuading people.

"I recall that you owe me a dance," he reminded you, taking a sip of his own beverage.

"Oh?" You said innocently, fiddling with the many necklaces he was wearing. "I don't remember agreeing to anything," you flirted.

"Well, perhaps a private dance then," he teased, giving you a mischievous smile.

"Maybe I'll surprise you later," you whispered, leaning in and sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and playfully biting it, loving the look of surprise and arousal on his face.

Then you turned and sauntered away, leaving him standing there at the bar to watch you. You were definitely going to end up in his bed tonight, but you wanted to make him squirm a little. Or rather, a lot.

You moved through the crowd to see Elijah and the woman dancing close, whispering things to each other. Well, actually, only she was talking. He seemed like he wasn't paying too much attention to the conversation she was having with him.

You gave him a wave and a smile, pointing at the woman and giving him an encouraging thumbs up. You don't know why you did it. Your chest did funny things seeing him with someone else though.

He returned your smile but didn't do much else before she spoke in his ear again and he allowed her to lead him out of the crowd.

You guessed Elijah was tired of his own party and went off to have some fun, and you were determined to have the same.

Klaus found you sitting on the couch, a cocktail and a plate of various snacks in front of you. You were thoroughly bored as you couldn't find him again.

He came from behind and crashed beside you, taking the glass out of your hand and finishing it, then set it aside.

"Hey! That was mine," you scolded playfully.

Klaus put his arm around you and kissed your neck. "How about you stop pretending you're enjoying yourself and come upstairs with me?" He suggested.

You laughed, and then he abruptly pulled you up and practically carried you through the door leading upstairs, pinning you to the wall at the top of the steps.

"Nik," you tried to say while laughing. "You can't just haul me off and have your way with me," you protested as his lips got closer to yours.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he taunted, bringing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, everything moving so fast. Klaus didn't even give you a chance to respond, lifting you so your legs wrapped around him.

He walked into a room and shut the door, setting you down on his desk. You realized that you were in his infamous art studio, looking around as Klaus hovered over you. You felt his lips on your neck, kissing every inch until you moaned.

Then he found the tiny zipper of your dress and slid it down, exposing your breasts. He smirked, reaching to tweak your nipple as he took you in. "Well then, love. Now I truly see why my brother has hidden you from me," he said huskily.

You giggled at his compliment but then you couldn't form words as he yanked the rest of your dress off you. You sat on the desk naked, save for your heels and nothing else.

"Dear lord, you are gorgeous," Klaus muttered, touching you everywhere.

You pulled him close by his shirt collar and locked lips. You bit his bottom lip harshly and he growled, his eyes flashing gold. The way his eyes changed on you was the hottest thing you've seen.

You pulled his shirt off him, tossing it to the floor before unbuckling his belt, wanting him as naked as you were. Once you had him bare, you raked your nails down his chest and he chuckled.

"You want to play rough, don’t you love?" He whispered as he nipped at your neck.

"Maybe," you teased, "what are you going to do about it?" You questioned, leaning back on the desk a little and spreading your legs for him, getting wet at the promise of a wild night.

Klaus's breath hitched when you touched yourself for him, his eyes completely transfixed on you. He was definitely intrigued by how confident you were.

"Well then," he growled before he roughly pinned your legs open, his hands squeezing your thighs harshly. He brought your body to the edge of the desk, kneeling in front of you as he ran a thumb over your dripping wet center.

He hummed at your scent as he pulled you forward a bit more to devour you, making you yelp in surprise, your hands tugging on his curls.

He was good, really good, and your toes curled at the pleasure you were receiving. It only got better when you saw his golden eyes as he gazed at you with a possessive glint, the vibrations from his own groans of enjoyment hitting you just right.

But before you could climax he pulled back and stood up, making you whimper and sit up on the desk, wanting him to continue.

Klaus chuckled at your impatience, pulling you into another searing kiss as you moaned. He broke it and gave you a smug smile, before wrapping his hand around your throat.

You were panting with need, your hand moving down to his cock and he hissed at your touch. He moved forward so he was resting between your thighs again as you stroked him slowly.

You both stayed this way for a moment, staring at each other. Until finally Klaus couldn't stand it any longer and roughly turned you around to face the desk. He pushed on your back until you were bent over on the wood, making you giggle with anticipation.

He smacked your ass hard, turning your giggle into a gasp as you looked back at him. He did it again and again until it was stinging. You wanted him so badly, it was unbearable.

You reached back for him and he lined up his cock to your entrance, sliding it up and down a few times until you were nearly shaking. He finally gave in and pushed into you, his hand tugging your hair until you arched into him, and he sank into the hilt.

He hissed at the sensation and you were about to tell him to move but he started fucking you without you needing to, hard and rough and perfect. He had you moaning with each thrust as you grabbed onto the desk, holding on tight as his body collided with yours, skin slapping as you got closer to climaxing.

It was hot and a little dirty, just what you had needed. Your moans only spurred him on as his hands explored your body while he took you from behind. The force of his thrusts causing items on his desk to clatter to the floor, but you both were far too gone to care.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you back into him, making you stand so his other hand could roam your front. He moved up to massage your breast while pinching and tugging on your nipple until you moaned. He was clearly determined to make you come first and was going to enjoy doing it.

"Nik!" you whined his name when he pinched you a bit too harshly. You felt his lips on your neck, his fangs grazing the skin as he left hickeys.

You tilted your head for him and he smirked, licking your pulse point and gently nibbling. His thrusting becoming erratic as his hand slipped to your clit to rub fast circles until your legs started trembling and you let out a scream as your orgasm crashed into you.

He hummed in approval and thrust into you a few more times before you felt him filling you up with his cum, and you giggled from the sensation. He released you from his grasp and you leaned back down on the desk, turning around to face him.

You both were sweaty and exhausted but extremely satisfied. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, placing soft kisses all over your face as you giggled again, trying to move away from him.

He grabbed your dress and handed it to you before slipping on his pants, leaving his shirt off. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and then turned away, starting to pick up the fallen objects from his desk and placing them in their correct places.

You watched him in a daze, your body tingling as you pulled your dress back on.

"So, love, my room is right next door, if you care to continue our celebration?" He said with a smug smirk, giving you a wink.

You giggled again and nodded, knowing it was probably the alcohol giving you your confidence, but you were going to ride the wave (and him) until the end.

Klaus woke to find you peacefully asleep in his bed. He leaned down to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead as you stirred slightly.

It was quite a night.

He took his time to admire your body and then your beautiful face. The way your eyelashes brushed your cheekbones as you slept, and your lips were parted slightly.

He got out of bed and got dressed, heading downstairs to find some blood and coffee. Elijah was in the kitchen reading his morning paper and looking every bit as dignified as always.

Klaus poured himself some coffee and started drinking it. He glanced around and saw there was no one else there but his brother, and he was smirking before he even opened his mouth.

"How was your night, Elijah?" He asked teasingly.

Elijah took his time to respond. He folded his paper up, placing it beside him as he eyed his younger brother suspiciously, he always had an innate sense to when Klaus was up to something.

"Quite fine. Why do you ask?"

Klaus's smirk grew bigger. He didn't say anything else and went about making himself something to eat. He felt Elijah's eyes boring into him the whole time, knowing that he wanted an answer but Klaus wouldn't give it to him just yet. He just loved torturing his big brother, even after a thousand years it was still highly entertaining.

"Your friend is an excellent host," Klaus started off with, his back turned as he chopped some fruit to put into a smoothie. He could almost hear the wheels turning in Elijah's mind as he tried to figure out where Klaus was going with this. "You really should have introduced me to her sooner."

Elijah sighed heavily. Klaus glanced behind him, and he had an annoyed expression on his face. He wasn't getting anything from Elijah so he turned to face him, his smirk returning.

"I showed her how much I appreciated her hard work last night. Several times actually, in my studio, a few times in my bed and then in the shower," he added as his smirk got wider and his tone became suggestive. "I dare say I've never been ridden so spectacularly before in all my years,"

Elijah abruptly stood, opening his mouth to say something, but that's when Klaus turned on the blender. Looking at Elijah apologetically and holding a finger to his ear and shrugging his shoulders.

"What's the matter brother?" he shouted over the blender. "You look a bit upset. You know it's not very healthy to bottle up all of your feelings,"

He stopped the blender and poured himself a glass, then another for Elijah as he handed it to him. Elijah just glared at him and poured the smoothie down the drain, setting the glass in the sink.

"That's rather rude, Elijah," he scolded teasingly. "I made that just for you,"

"Have you no shame, Niklaus?" He asked harshly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Noooo, shame is for boring people," he taunted. "Why are you so upset? Aren't you happy for your friend? I can assure you that she enjoyed herself immensely,”

Elijah snapped. He couldn't take anymore. He walked over and grabbed Klaus by the shirt collar, and shoved him against the wall roughly, holding him in place.

"You know how I feel about her and yet you slept with her anyway," Elijah seethed.

Klaus raised his eyebrow. "If you want her, then you should of taken her yourself," he snapped, his eyes flashing gold in challenge. "It's your loss anyway," he added, shoving him back and adjusting his collar, then smoothing out his shirt.

Elijah was livid. He knew it was just Klaus's way of being obnoxious, but that didn't make it any easier to handle.

"I can't get the vision of her tits bouncing in my face out of my mind, Elijah," Klaus taunted him again. "Perhaps if you're lucky, you'll get to experience it for yourself," he said, brushing past his brother and walking away with a laugh.

You woke in Klaus' bed with a terrible hangover and an empty spot beside you. You sat up, your head spinning a bit as the memories of the night before came flooding back.

Oh God, you slept with Elijah's brother.

You covered your face in embarrassment. You got drunk, got laid and it was with the worst person you possibly could of picked.

Elijah was going to kill you. He's been protecting you from his brother and here you go, having sex with him in his bed. You could imagine how disappointed he was in you right now.

You quickly got dressed and made your way downstairs, needing some coffee and possibly a few pain pills to try and take the edge off your headache.

Klaus was walking away from the kitchen, a devious smirk on his face. When he saw you, his grin got even bigger, but he said nothing, just gave you a wink.

You turned red in embarrassment and dashed into the kitchen, finding Elijah sipping his morning coffee while reading his paper. He looked up when he saw you enter and then he folded the paper and placed it on the island.

"Morning," he started off in a professional tone. You hated how he sounded.

You grabbed a mug and poured the liquid into it. Elijah was silent as he waited for you to face him, and once you had taken a few sips, he was standing in front of you.

He pushed your hair off your neck and a flash of Klaus' mouth sucking and nibbling on you last night, appeared in your mind. You were definitely covered in marks and hickeys.

"I see you had fun," Elijah muttered, and you saw him look over your appearance, the slight smudged make-up, messy hair and rumpled dress from last night.

He wasn't usually one to judge someone else's life choices, but this was his brother and you. It seemed more personal.

You blushed and pushed your hair back over your shoulder, so his eyes would stop staring at your neck. You needed a cold shower or something, the entire night was still feeling extremely vivid.

"Look Elijah, I'm so sorry, he just caught me at the right moment and I got a little drunk and..." you trailed off, taking a drink of coffee to calm your nerves. You really didn't have any good excuse to give him.

"It's alright, you can be with whoever you choose," Elijah stated in a collected tone.

You frowned and saw him adjusting his cuff-links. A sure sign he was upset. He always did that when he was angry or hiding what he was truly feeling.

"It was just a one time thing," you added, but you felt like he wasn't listening to you anymore.

Elijah was acting strange. Sure he could be an enigma sometimes, but this was different. He looked determined but a little annoyed, and you weren't quite sure how to read the situation. You decided to steer the conversation away from Klaus and what had happened between you two.

"How was your night?" You finally thought to ask. "I saw you leave with a woman, you looked like you were having fun," you said it teasingly, hoping it would lighten up the mood.

But now it was his turn to blush.

"Fine, really. It was fine," he muttered, fixing the already perfect knot in his tie. Now that was definitely something. Elijah rarely ever got tongue tied. "We kissed and I walked her home," he added, his lips pressing together in a firm line.

"That's all? You didn't...well, you know?" You questioned hesitantly.

"One night stands aren't my forte," he replied, giving you a soft smile. "When I take a woman to bed, I make her mine," his words were possessive and he hadn't taken his eyes off you.

The two of you weren't the kind of friends who discussed your sex life with each other. So when he said this, your cheeks turned hot and your imagination went wild. The idea of him holding you down and having his wicked way with you was something you were definitely interested in.

You both were staring at each other, the tension growing by the second. Then you looked away, you couldn't possibly fuck another Mikaelson in the same twelve hour period. Besides, Elijah meant far more to you than Klaus ever could. Sex with him would probably lead you somewhere complicated, and you didn't want to ruin what you had right now.

The situation was way too weird.

"Do you want to hang out tomorrow?" You decided to ask, breaking the silence and steering the conversation away from sex. You just wanted to spend some time with him. "Maybe come up to my place? I don't work the next two days," you added, hopeful he would agree to spend time with you, even though he always did, but this time you felt more nervous about it.

It would help things get back to normal, as normal as they could be after what happened with Klaus.

"Sure, Klaus and Rebekah won't be home tomorrow if you would like to come over here instead?" He suggested, your eyes meeting his again.

He had such an intense way of staring into your eyes, that it almost felt like he was looking into your soul.

"Well, it's your birthday so whatever you would like to do," you stated, giving him a sweet smile.

Your phone buzzed, breaking the moment. You grabbed it from your purse and opened the new text from Klaus:

- I'm available if you ever need something to ride again.

You quickly put down your phone, forgetting you had given him your number. You decided you were going to ignore it. There was no way you were going there again.

Elijah looked curious but didn't press.

"I better go home," you said, finishing your coffee and putting it in the sink.

"See you tomorrow," he replied, stepping closer and giving you gentle kiss on the cheek.

You said bye to him and walked out of the kitchen to the courtyard where Rebekah and Klaus were arguing. They both looked over at you, their argument stopping when they noticed you.

"Hello darling," Klaus greeted, his eyes raking over you. Flashes of your evening together running through your mind, and you quickly looked away from him.

Rebekah looked between the two of you and you could see her trying to figure it out, her eyes widening as she stared at you. You quickly hurried out of the compound before either of them could say another word.

{Part Two}

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