#the way she screams at him to get up during THAT part is stuck in my brain

[puhpandas]

the sense that cassie would knock into tony

[evergreensnowqueen]

Crying over TLOU2 again don’t text

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DAD I need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DAD He’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DAD Just coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at you you want me to lie under oath?

DAD Just talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DAD Good girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[josephandrewstarkey]

omggg i have a request for drew!!! so basically during the thirst tweets interview reader who is not apart of the obx cast comes in after running some errands and just sits down and weight for drew because they have a lunch date after. she reacts to all the tweets about drew and jokes saying some dirty stuff about drew’s tweets and the cast just loves her so muchhh!!!

your wish is my command, i hope you like this anon!! <33

thirst tweets

warnings: mentions of smut

drew starkey x reader

Drew and the rest of the Outer Banks cast were sitting around, getting ready to read some crazy thirst tweets. The energy was wild, with everyone cracking jokes and passing the phone around. In the middle of all the laughter, Y/N quietly walked in after running some errands. She slipped into the room and sat off to the side, not wanting to interrupt. Drew saw her, and they exchanged a smile, but he stayed focused on the interview.

Y/N tried so hard not to laugh as the cast read some insane thirst tweets. The way they reacted was hilarious—everyone was either screaming or trying to keep it together. It was total chaos in the best way. Then Drew got handed the phone, and his face went red when he read aloud, “Drew Starkey could rail me any day.”

“i’m honored” he said while holding back a smile. Y/N had to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing too loudly. Drew just gave this half-smirk, half-shocked look while the rest of the cast teased him relentlessly.

When the interview finally wrapped up, Y/N stuck around and started talking with the cast. They absolutely loved her—everyone was all over her, chatting and joking like she was part of the family. She fit right in, and it was obvious they thought the world of her.

Later, at lunch, Y/N couldn’t hold back anymore. “Okay, those thirst tweets??” she giggled, playing with her drink. “I’ve never seen you blush that hard.”

Drew rolled his eyes, grinning. “Yeah people are wild.”

Y/N leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Especially that one tweet… What was it again? Oh right, ‘Drew Starkey could rail me any day.’”

Drew raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

Y/N shrugged, teasing. “Well, ... I kinda agree with it.”

His smirk deepened, and his voice dropped. “Oh, you do?”

She bit her lip, feeling her heart race a little. “yeah.”

Drew leaned in closer, his eyes locked on hers. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she tried to keep her cool. “Maybe.” she whispered, her voice almost trembling.

Drew didn’t say another word. He paid the bill quickly, and before she knew it, they were racing back to his place. As soon as they stepped inside, the energy shifted. The teasing from earlier was gone, replaced with something way more intense. Drew pulled her close, his lips crashing into hers as they stumbled towards the bedroom, their hands all over each other. It felt electric, like they couldn’t get close enough.

Once they were alone in the quiet of the room, everything slowed down. Drew’s touch was soft but deliberate, like he was memorizing every inch of her.

The moment they reached the bed, he gently pushed her down, hovering over her as he kissed her deeply. His hands roamed her body before gripping the fabric of her clothes. With one swift motion, he ripped them off, tossing them aside without a second thought.

that was a looonggg night

[dadbodbuck]

could it shine down here with you?

Rating: G | WC: 1.7k | Pairing: BuckTommy

Loosely based on this post by @loulovingho!

Summary:

Tommy doesn't realize until later that he already asked for Thanksgiving off.

Read it here on Ao3 or continue below!

Tommy is five, or maybe six, and he doesn’t like Thanksgiving. His dad is screaming at his mom because the turkey isn’t thawed. He’s calling her a lot of words that Tommy thinks are really mean. Tommy’s dad yells a lot, but it’s rarely this bad. Tommy’s mom usually waits for it to blow over, but this time, Tommy watches from the living room entry as her face crumbles and she shoulders past Tommy’s dad, breezes by Tommy, and flees into their bedroom.

Tommy wants to follow her, but his dad grabs his arm, too-tight, and tugs Tommy away towards where the half-thawed turkey is laying on the ground, cold and slimy. When they get there, Tommy’s dad hands him a garbage bag and a roll of paper towels and says “Your mom needs some time alone to think about what she’s done. Clean up this mess.”

It’s okay, because later his mom comes out of the bedroom and kneels down, her eyes red and puffy, and she tells him, “I’m so sorry you had to see that, honey. You did a good job cleaning the kitchen. It’s okay, we can still have dinner, even if I messed up the turkey,” and she makes Stovetop stuffing, and takes cranberry sauce out of a can, dishing them up on a plastic plate for Tommy, and a glass plate for her.

Tommy’s not sure where his dad went, but he’s glad it’s just him and his mom for a little while.

Tommy is twelve, and he hates Thanksgiving. He hates most holidays centered around football, actually. It’s a double-edged sword—his dad gets drunk, and his dad gets riled up, and he’s either too loud and happy, or too loud and mad. The Superbowl is Tommy’s least favorite time of the year. Especially when the Rams are playing.

The Rams aren’t playing this year, but that doesn’t mean Tommy’s off the hook. Tommy brings his dad beers when his dad calls for them, doesn’t say a word to his old man, carefully doesn’t flinch when his dad yells angrily at the screen.

For the most part, Tommy sits alone in his room and looks at the picture of his mom. It’s her high school graduation, she’s gleaming in her cap and gown. Tommy misses her.

Tommy knows that his family isn’t normal. That it’s fucked up. But he also knows how to deal with his dad, especially now that his mom isn’t around to instigate anymore. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen if he gets sent to foster care. He doesn’t want to know.

Tommy also knows, somewhere, that it’s partially his own fault. Maybe if he was a better kid—someone his dad could be proud of, this wouldn’t happen. He was always doing something to incur his father’s wrath. Plus, it’s not like his dad doesn’t love him, in his own way. Tommy loves his dad, too.

Tommy makes his own Stovetop stuffing and cranberry sauce from a can. His dad doesn’t eat it, but Tommy doesn’t care, because at least he survived Thanksgiving without any more bruises.

Tommy is eighteen, and twenty-three, and thirty-one. Thanksgiving is in a shitty barracks at the base, a tiny studio in downtown LA, and the 118 firehouse. It’s spent wolfing down an MRE, trying to figure out how to get his horrible stove to work, and eating Stovetop stuffing and cranberry sauce and praying that the alarm doesn’t go off. There are the other soldiers, and Tommy’s rescue cat Teddy, and Howie.

The MRE is as it always is. You get used to the weird textures and instant coffee and chemical heat smell of the food warmer. The funny thing about Iraq, the thing that will keep Tommy awake for years and years, is that it gets cold during the winter. Tommy knew before he shipped out that he didn’t know what much about the country, but now that he’s here, he’s stuck with sick realization after sick realization. The people here are scared, and the Army isn’t helping. Tommy looks at the other soldiers in a way he shouldn’t. Civilians are dying. War is messy in a way that allows people to excuse inexcusable violence. Tommy cannot speak the language, of either the Iraqi citizens or the people he was told would be his brothers. Iraq gets cold during the winter.

Teddy is an orange beauty, with long fluffy fur and a penchant for mischief. Tommy didn’t ask for Thanksgiving off, but it’s a holiday at the Academy, apparently. So, he’s here, listening to the click of the gas range as it tries to light. Teddy watches from the tiny countertop with uncharacteristic judgment in his eyes. When the flame finally catches, Tommy laughs victoriously, and gets to work making stuffing and cranberry sauce for the first time in years. It’s not gourmet by any means, just the Stovetop and the canned stuff, but it feels like his mom. It feels like he’s talking to her again. Tommy wonders if there’s a universe out there where his mom got help before it was too late. He eats his food in the camp chair that furnishes his pathetic living room, with Teddy invading his personal space and trying to sneak a bite for himself.

Tommy keeps the tradition of making himself Stovetop and canned cranberry sauce. He keeps it the year Howie shows up at the 118 and immediately proves himself braver and stronger than Tommy ever could be. While everyone else is busy whining about missing their grandma’s mashed potatoes, Tommy scrapes together his sacred traditional Thanksgiving feast. While Tommy’s not looking, Howie steals half of it.

“Mm!” Howie sighs, “That childhood nostalgia fakeness.”

“Hey! That was mine,” Tommy says, without any real heat. He hasn’t been able to muster anything beyond mild irritation for Howie since he saved his life.

“Oh, because you were going to eat all of that in one sitting,” Howie scoffs, “I’ll pay you back your dollar for my half if you really want.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tommy huffs, scraping out the other half for his own portion. They sit at the table and eat together, and it’s the closest Tommy’s ever had to spending Thanksgiving with someone.

It’s not until they finish eating and the bell rings that Tommy realizes Howie’s the only one who hasn’t asked Tommy if he’s sad he’s missing out on the holidays.

For the most part, his Thanksgivings after the 118 are spent much the same way, but at Harbor, and alone. He gets to put his leftovers in the fridge and eat off them for a few days. Thanksgiving (save for deep fried turkey incidents) is a relatively tame holiday. No fireworks, at least.

Then, Evan.

A lot of things change for Tommy when Evan crashes into his life, all legs and a blinding smile. Evan is a whirlwind and the most beautiful man Tommy has ever seen. Evan is kind of everything.

When Tommy realizes he’s falling in love, it makes him sick to his stomach. He remembers loving his dad enough to excuse his anger, loving his mom enough to let her slip away, loving a country enough to enact its violence, loving the sense of belonging at the 118 enough to allow the kindest people he’s ever met to suffer. Tommy doesn’t love right. He can’t let Evan get tired of him and leave. He can’t poison Evan until he turns into something cruel. So Tommy breaks up with him. Evan asks him to move in, and he can feel the iron jaws of a bear trap closing around his throat, so he breaks up with him.

Tommy doesn’t realize until later that he already asked for Thanksgiving off.

(Thanksgiving came up between them for the first time when Evan asked if he wanted to do their own thing or go over to the grand 118 Thanksgiving Feast.

“I don’t know,” Evan has shrugged, “I mean, I want to spend it with you. I don’t want to pressure you into a big thing if you don’t want to, or if—if you’re used to smaller Thanksgivings. What does your family do for Thanksgiving?”

“Um,” Tommy had said, a little caught off-guard like he was every time they brushed up against the topic of family, “We didn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving. I usually just get a box of Stovetop stuffing and a can of cranberry sauce and call it a day.”

Evan had scoffed, mock-offended. “Well! In that case, we’re going. Mark your calendar. You’re going to cream your pants when you try Bobby’s turkey.”

Tommy had smiled and thought maybe. Maybe this will be the year.)

Tommy sighs and opens the box of Stovetop stuffing. His water and butter are already boiling, so he pours the mix in and watches it saturate. He stirs it and takes it off the heat to sit. A strange, painful sadness claws at the inside of his throat. It hurts. It hurts worse than it usually does.

He doesn’t think about Evan and Bobby’s allegedly orgasm-worthy turkey and Howie introducing Tommy to Jee-yun and how close they had all seemed at the hospital for Denny. He walks over to the mantle above his fireplace, with a small, framed pawprint inside, and Teddy 2021 written underneath.

Five minutes passes slowly without anyone to distract him. Tommy tries and fails not to think about every holiday he’s spent alone, or wishing he was alone. This is the first holiday he’s wished for someone in particular who wasn’t his mom or Teddy.

Tommy eats stuffing and canned cranberry sauce at his kitchen table. Somewhere, Evan is in a house warm with love. Somewhere, Evan is loved, wholly and unconditionally. Tommy’s glad people love him. He deserves to be loved.

Tommy doesn’t like watching football on Thanksgiving, so instead he puts on Mean Girls. After his stomach settles, he’s too tired to do anything but crawl into bed and sleep until his shift in the morning.

When Tommy gets to work, he’s surprised when Lucy says, “Delivery for you in the fridge, Kinard, you better eat it before I can get my hands on it.”

Inside the fridge is a glass Tupperware container wrapped in a plastic Chinese takeout bag. There’s a sticky note attached to it that says Bobby’s turkey is even better the next day.

Tommy texts Evan and asks about it. Evan doesn’t say anything back.

But he does get a text from Howie, and the timing is too quick to be coincidence. When you’re reheating it, remember to put half a teaspoon of water in the dish so it doesn’t dry everything out in the microwave.

[tigerpeachs]

Bully - Ryomen Sukuna

-`ღ´- tags: 18+, fem reader, pet name usage, grinding, jealousy, non con, nerd/dork, cum shot, choking, nipple play, fingering, multiple orgasms, pwp, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, praise 

-`ღ´- wc: 4.2K

-`ღ´- a/n: this is sort of part two of a previous work I did a while back. There's a bit of reader x itadori here, but it mainly focuses on Suku ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚✧ ﾟ.

-`ღ´- synopsis: After avoiding Sukuna for almost a full year, he finally gets you alone in a hot tub. He does his best to make up for lost time. 

It was your final year of college. It took you a long time to get here. Painful all-nighters and tough conditioning sessions. From years of academia and athleticism, you’d like to say you were different now. You were more confident, funnier, and more social, unlike the shy girl who was just thankful she wasn’t riding the bench all semester. You were no longer the small underclassmen stuck with doing post-game jersey pick-ups and moving goals all by yourself. You even made a few friends! Maki and Nobara helped you express yourself better and build your confidence. 

There was one event that kicked off the semester, Gojo Satoru’s back-to-school pool party. It was set late enough that all students were back on campus, and able to attend the debauchery, but also early enough that there were no concerns about assignments, games, and practices. Everyone was still high off the summer with warm weather prickling at their skin. 

The main allure that brought you to such an event took form in a pretty pink haircut and a bright toothy grin. Itadori Yuuji. You’ve been seeing him… maybe even dating by former terms instead of what Nobara called a mutual situationship or talking stage or whatever trendy term she blanketed over your dynamic with him. The summer was filled with Itadori pressed against your side during movie nights and screaming your name at your summer league games. Things were new. Things are different now. 

You looked down at the mixed jungle juice swishing in your red solo cup. Maki was arm-wrestling men on the island counter while Nobara forced bottles into the mouths of those who lost against her. You could hear their girlish screams and cheers as they popped open another bottle on the table, making shots for the losers. You couldn’t help but laugh as another man sputtered and coughed out from the taste of Pink Whitney. 

“What’re you giggling about over there?” You hear a sweet voice call out. You picked your head up noticing Itadori, looking as handsome as ever. You looked at him through your lashes, wondering if it was the heat of the room or just your skin warming up. You could feel your skin flush and the words die at the tip of your tongue as you took in the sight of him. His muscles pressed through his shirt, and he looked like he did his hair for once, the crazy pattern manipulated in a way that fit him perfectly. 

“Nothing,” You quickly comment, realizing you must have left some awkward pause in the air. 

“Mmmmhm. I don’t believe you.” He leans against the same counter as you, crossing his arms, biceps bulging and he comes close to you. He looks at the scene in front of you both. Maki slams back another cup as she gets ready to arm wrestle Todou. The large male made sure to roll his sleeve up, making a show of each intricate rigid muscle he owned. He rolled his shoulders back and cracked his head, smirking as he slammed his arm down on the island.   

“Who do you have your money on?” You jump. Itadori had leaned down, whispering directly in your ear. When you look over at him, he doesn't pull away. His pink lips and golden eyes looked more tantalizing up close. A weird feeling twisted in your stomach, and it wasn’t the absurdly sweet jungle juice made. 

“Maki,” You say after swallowing down more of the alcohol mix. 

“You really think she can win?” He asks, uncrossing his arm. Both of them rest on the counter, one on free counter space, and the other behind your back, making you move closer to him. 

You sat silent for a second.

“Isn’t that a little sexist?  to assume she won't win?” You accuse. Yuuji quickly looks down at you, trying to recover from the question. 

“N-no, I mean Todou is just a bigger person.” He tries to reason with you but now you got him. A smile graces your face as he begins to blush and stutter about. 

“I mean,” You turn to him, not caring that you were basically pinned to his hip. You gently grab at his shirt, directly above his belt line, hoping it would ground you. “It’s not about the size of a person, but more so the technique…” Your eyes hold his gaze, even though your heart rattled as you did so. “Right?” 

He takes a gulp as your body rubs slightly against his. The cup you held was pinned against your chest and his, the only cooling material between the two of you. Before he can rattle off a response, there are cheers as Maki is lifted into the air by Yuuta and Toge. You look back at the sight, laughing with joy as Nobara forces Todou to chug from a “bitch cup”. 

“Yuuji!” A voice calls out, you quickly step back, looking up at his best friend, Megumi. He points out back to where the party continues to flow. There are screams as girls are splashed by men jumping in the pool. Itadori’s hand that rested behind you now rests against your hip for a second. “Your brother is looking for you,” He states before leaning down to share hugs with Nobara and Maki. 

Itadori sucks at his teeth, running his thumb over the seam of your skirt. He looks down at you and your once confident state has now reverted back to shyness. The mention of Sukuna made your heart thump in your chest and your hand burn. Your head throbbed as images flashed across your eyes whenever they shut for a second. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Your body trembled as you gripped him slightly harder. Sukuna ran his nose against your cheek before pressing chaste kisses against your jawline. “So good baby, gonna make me cum.”

Itadori said your name before asking, “Do you want to come with me? I’m sure it’s something dumb.” He pulls you gently but you don’t give in. Instead, you look up at him with worried eyes and he takes that as you not wanting to be without him. He thinks for a minute as he continues to rub small circles into the side of your hip. You swish your cup around, preparing to chug the remains if necessary to avoid this icky feeling. 

“Satoru has an in-ground hot tub gated in the back. Do you wanna wait there for me?” You look up at him with hopeful eyes. If you went there, you wouldn’t have to worry about running into Sukuna. 

“I don’t have a swimsuit.” You whisper, hoping no one else would hear your conversation as though you weren’t inside a large house party. He smiles down at you and leans in a little closer so he can whisper in your ear. 

“That’s okay, I don’t either, so we can just go in our underwear.” You blush at his statement but either from the need to be away or from the surge of alcohol courage in your system, you nod your head.

“Atta girl!” Yuuji grabs your free hand, twirling you around, then using the motion to pull you into him. “The code is all ones!” He exclaims before he starts walking back to Megumi. “I’ll be there soon!” 

And so, you chug the rest of your drink, opting to grab a smooth seltzer from the fridge before you walk back to the hot tub. You try your best to look sober as you walk over to the gated hot tub, hoping not to gain attention, or worse, show everyone you’re a sloppy drunk.

As you get in, you decide not to relock the gate, instead opting to remove your top and skirt before slipping out of your shoes. You almost stumble as you move toward the hot tub. You press a few buttons, unsure of what they all do, but still enjoy the rush of heat and jets pressing against your skin. You nervously drink the seltzer, wishing you took a shot for confidence before you came all the way out here. 

As time passes, your eyes fall shut, allowing your head to lull over the side of the relaxing machine. A second turns into a minute, turns into a while. You knew Itadori should’ve been back at this point, and you start to feel pangs of regret. What if he just wanted to get rid of you? What if he forgot about you and was with someone else already?

Just as you tried to shake away your thoughts, you heard someone else slip into the water. You picked your head up, and put a smile on your face, ready to see and hear Itadori apologize for being late. Instead, a low whistle meets your ears before you can open your eyes. 

Sitting across from you, sprawled out in all his glory, is none-other than the man you were trying to avoid. He wore an unamused look on his face, but regardless, his eyes ran up and down your frame, causing you to cover yourself with your arms. You feel small underneath his predatory gaze. You haven’t spoken to him since that event. You came to practice early and left late. You stopped studying around campus, instead opting to stay in your room to do work. You even made excuses on why you couldn’t go over to Itadori’s place or go to his games. A cocky smirk falls on his face.

“Have you been avoiding me, doll?” You didn’t answer, instead wondering if Itadori would show up and miraculously make Sukuna leave. Seeing him had your stomach twisting in ways the alcohol didn’t. You muttered something under your breath bringing your knees up as if it would make you feel safer. Thoughts of that night crawl back to the forefront of your mind.

Sukuna pulled his cock out, hard, dripping, and quickly grabbed your wrist. Your eyes widened as he placed your hand around his hard shaft. A soft grunt fell from his lips as he bent over you. 

“Too scared to speak to me or something?” He moves in causing you to put your hand up against his thick chest, hoping to stop him from coming closer. His scent - his pheromones cut through your nostrils, and it oddly makes your mouth water and skin flush. The feeling of his shaft moving in the palm of your hands comes back to you, causing you to tense and compare it to the strong expanse of his chest. The way they’re both so smooth yet hard, rigid even. 

He can see how nervous you look. The meek girl from last year is still in there. You may have changed your hair, worn sexier clothing, and even flirted with other men, but he knew you. He knew that you were still a nervous wreck of a girl who stuttered when she spoke, who analyzed the whole room before talking, who gets scared when her panties get wet. Probably still hasn’t even fingered herself open yet, and you’re in college? Pathetic.  

You fall silent as Sukuna palms your waist under the water. His fingers slip over the fabric of your panties, moving upwards to hold your waist. You gasp at the speed of his movement. He manhandles you over his waist and sets you down on his pelvis. You jump as you feel something slot itself against your core. 

“Now why have you been avoiding me, Squirt? Didn’t I tell you to text me?” You brace yourself against his broad shoulders as he whines your hips slowly. The movement causes your core to drag across his covered bulge. “After you made me cum in your hand, I wanted to see how ruined you were. Wanted to see that pretty face all confused.” Your eyebrows scrunched together at the fire rushing up your loins. The pit of your stomach felt heavy, like when Itadori would hold you close or look at you a certain way. 

“I- That’s… That’s disgusting!” You finally whimper while he continued to use your body at his own will. 

“Mmmhm. If it’s so disgusting,” He forces you to lean forward, propping your ass up out of the water. His fingers easily find your wet sopping hole, shoving your panties to the side to run against your opening. “Then why are you so wet?” 

Your skin turned rosy at the words. 

Why? 

You didn’t know… You felt betrayed by your body, letting out soft angelic sounds while the demon of a man played and toyed with your body. Sukuna tensed his jaw at the sound. He wonders if his brother got to indulge in hearing you even though he told the whole damn school you were off limits. His. Only his. 

He felt your nails dig into his skin as he slipped one finger inside your gummy walls. The intrusion caught you off guard. You pressed your body forward, trying to avoid the foreign sensation. It cause his finger to slide slightly out of your entrance, but he pressed forward. Sukuna curled his finger, rubbing that spongy spot inside of you. You whimpered in his ear, involuntarily twitching your hips at each movement. Your heart was racing, pounding in your chest as he pressed another finger inside. 

“Stop,” You whined, pressing closer to him to avoid the foreign feelings festering inside of you. Your mouth hung open as the digits swirled and intentionally pressed against your walls. Sukuna gripped your hip, trying to stabilize you. He would never admit it, but watching you make a mess on his hand, unsure of yourself or what to do, did things to him. He ached for you. His cock throbbed in tandem with your pulsing walls. 

He pressed his tongue out against your shoulder, biting against the soft skin. Your hand gripped his hair, trying to yank him back, only eliciting a groan and smirk from him. 

“You’re being rowdier than last time.” You couldn't help but moan as he began to stroke your clit. You could feel your juices slip out of you, only to feel obscene when Sukuna pressed them back in. “And you’re so sensitive,” His words were lost on you. 

You tried to sit up, bracing yourself against his shoulders in order to leverage yourself. Pleasure flushed through your system as you lifted your hips up and down his fingers, using him to get yourself off. Just as he did to you. He watched with half lidded eyes, grabbing and leading your pace by holding onto the fat of your ass. He leaned forward, nipping and biting at your breast, still covered by the thin excuse of a bra you wore tonight. 

Something felt like it was going to snap inside of you. Sukuna pulled your head down, crashing your lips against his. Your kiss was sloppy and unnatural, but his was so confident and demanding. His lips slid against yours, teasing his tongue against the seam while he curled his fingers once more. The sensitive skin on your lips felt tingly from his attention on them. 

Your stomach lurched, abs tightening up, body becoming rigid as a flush of nerves tingle up and down your spine. You pressed forward into Sukuna, biting down harshly at his neck while groaning. Your orgasm had your muscles shaking as they fought each contraction that rolled through. Sukuna groaned out from your harsh mannerisms but you didn’t care. 

Everything felt heightened. The fabric against your nipples felt too sensitive. The breath coming out of you felt too heavy. Your eyes watered. Tears fell as you blinked a few times for clarity. Your throat felt dry and your body felt like putty. You didn’t oppose as Sukuna bent you over the edge of the hot tub. His hands played with your ass, groping and squeezing the material. He spread your folds open, admiring your pink walls that still spasmed from how well he finger fucked you. You shied away from his gaze,  causing you to press away, still too sensitive from your early orgasm. 

He did another low whistle and ran his fingers over the seams of your panties. 

“Oi, you still with me, Squirt?” You nodded slowly, not sure what he meant by that. The hot water flushing around your skin kept you warm as the cool air bit at your exposed skin. You shut your eyes, taking deep breaths, hoping the worst was over. 

Sukuna let you have your time, he slipped his bottoms over his cock, letting it slap against his abdomen. He grabbed at your hips. You gasp as you tug back against his cock, slick folds parting for his thick veiny cock to rub against you. The man growled from how much cum and slick had slipped out of you. You were coating his cock in your essence, flooding it with your juices with every rut of your hips. 

You let out little moans, feeling his tip catch on your entrance. You don’t want Sukuna. You don’t care how many women would die to be in your spot. You don’t care about the amount of men that want to be him. You hate the damn brute. He left such nasty images in your head from the last time he messed with you. You hate how… 

His fat leaking tip slapped right against your twitching entrance. He pressed in just slightly, moaning at how your walls worked to accommodate his thick tip.

…You hate how… 

How good this fucking felt. 

You gritted your teeth as he continued to press in. You hunched your back over, trying to run from the burning feeling. It felt like he was splitting you open for Christ’s sake. You held tight to the edge of the hot tub, skin losing color from your grip. He bottoms out, lulling his head back from how tight and warm you are. Your cunt is quivering around him, begging him to cum right inside that little nerd body of yours. He palms at your ass and hips, gritting his teeth. 

He doesn’t move at first. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, showing some restraint. Waiting for your body to accept him. You take some time to relax your back, and he takes that as the move to rock forward. His blunt tip rubbed against your cervix, fat veins pressing against your spot. You whined as he rocked an inch out and back in. 

“Aaatta girl” He calls out to you, making you keen at the words. Nerds like you loved getting praise. Perfect 100’s. Amazing score marks. All fucking A’s on a report card. He leans over to get close to you. Your back is arched and he maneuvers your hair over to one side so it’s not in the way. He speaks in a sultry tone, low in your ear “I knew you could take cock well.”

You can't help but clench down at his words. You grit your teeth as he grinds into your pussy, sliding his cock against your walls. You moan as he angels his hips in circular motions, dragging his cock perfectly over that spongy spot inside of you. He grabs at your hair, tugging your head back, forcing your moans to flow out properly. 

“Good fucking girl,” He groans. His eyes roll back as you continue to suck him back in. Every time he pulls out, your pussy works him back in. He knows that cunt wants to make a home for his dick. Yeah. Your pussy was made for him. 

Sukuna stops with the slow grinding, preferring now to rail you like the slut you try to be now. He smirks as he looks down, changing pace. He doesn’t give a warning. You cry out as he pounds into you at a brutal pace. It hurt. It hurt but it felt so fucking good. Little “Ah, ah, ah, ah’s” fell from your lips. He couldn’t decide what looked better, the sight of your ass recoiling against his pelvis, only to leave a white streaky mess when he pulled out, or the cock drunk look in your rolled back eyes with your lips pink and swollen from his bruising kiss earlier. 

He’s made you like this. No one else. No one, not even his damn brother, could come close to making you feel this way. The jealous thought of anyone even trying made Sukuna tense his jaw. He should've taken you from the front for your first time, that way he’d never forget the look on your face when you came on cock for the first time. 

He grabs at your waist, forcing you to meet his thrust. Your insides feel stirred up, your stomach feels full, veins rushing with excitement. You panted between the other little sounds you made, opting to close your eyes. The sensations flooded your system more with no visual context. You could feel Sukuna throbbing inside of you. You could feel your pussy tingling with every thrust. Your clit felt swollen and throbbed whenever his balls would slap aggressively against them. You were gonna cum soon. 

Sukuna reached below and pulled your bra down, making your tits hang over the fabric. The way they bounced while your nipples were so sensitive had you curling your toes for relief. 

“This pussy is like a fucking dream,” He rasp, pulling out with hopes of not blowing his load too fast. The sight of your clenching cunt leaking, aching for something inside of it, it sent his mind reeling. He slotted his dick over your ass, only to feel your hips lift, trying to get him back in. Chasing that feeling from earlier. 

Have you no shame? Aren’t you the one who worked so hard to avoid him? Now you’re bent over a hot tub at one of the biggest parties of the year. Your cunt is open for anyone to see, almost begging for someone to fill it. You can’t even admit how much you want it, want him, but here you are trying to cum on his dick. 

He smacks the fat of your ass, lining himself back up. 

Who knew a nerd could be such a slut?

Sukuna pressed in again, leaning over and reaching for your throat. He forced you up and back. One of your hands followed his, hoping for mercy,  while the other tried to gain some leverage by pushing you up from the hot tub. He continued his rapid bruising pace, watching your body shake with each thrust. Sukuna dropped his gaze to your tits and lifted his hand to play with your nipple, squeezing and pulling it while you moaned. 

“You gonna cum?” The man asks, pressing his fingers harder against the side of your neck. You felt drugged. From the lack of blood flow to the brain, to the heat, the alcohol in your system , and the cock destroying your insides.

“Hnnn!” You let out. Sukuna turned you to face him. You were tightening up and clamping, unaware of what was sure to be your demise. You opened your mouth, pressing your tongue out, expecting his. Sukuna’s skin flushed and he rushed for his tongue to meet yours in a sloppy kiss. His hand dropped to rub at your sensitive clit, forcing you to teeter over the edge. 

Your scream came out muffled against Sukuna’s tongue. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you tried to pull away from his thrust. Sukuna didn’t relent, selfishly chasing his release as well. You fell forward and he followed. You pulled away from his kiss, gasping out as your orgasm started to become painful in its persistence. You tried to press a hand back to stop him, but Sukuna only grabbed it. 

The way you looked back at him, fucked out, hot, needy, sore from the way he fucked you. You pretty pink lips whimpered out his name. “R-Ryo,” You cried, trying to escape his intense thrust. You intertwined your hand with his, clasping it tightly with hopes that it would ease up. 

That is what made him cum. 

Sukuna shoved your hips forward, slipping his cock out. He grabbed at his cock and forced you to stay still as he shot his cum over your ass. Seed spilled over your cheeks, drizzling towards the arch in your back and down over your folds. The sticky wet feeling made you shake in his arms. 

Both of you were breathless from the altercation. The man leaned over, pressing kisses onto your spine and shoulder. The time spent silently in each other's arms felt relaxing. Your muscles began to relax, making you go slack against the edge of the hot tub. Sukuna watched your body intently, before resting his head against your shoulder plane. He hummed as his cock softened against your cunt, still enjoying the feeling of your swollen sex. 

“Don’t ever avoid me again, nerd.” He whispers against your skin. 

Even though you knew you would, you couldn’t help but nod in agreement to him.

[anachronismstellar]

Just in case no one asked yet: You could feed us, the like 3 WarPlane fans in a trenchcoat?

Mayyybe even some LQG POV? A little bit of "Why I want to fight him so bad?" with a pinch of misundertandings? 🥺

Oh. I just realized that all of the SQH gotta get them all asks I wrote in the Peak Lord POVs fjsbskdnsm

Anyway, WarPlane with a side of fighting and misunderstanding, right away! :D

Also a little bit kinda of a sequel to this post

Omg sorry it took so long but this one is a big boy fksnskdns I hope you like it <3

------

Shang Qinghua didn't show up next morning.

Or the other one.

Or the other.

Then he had to go on a mission, followed by another one, and when he blinked it had been weeks since that day in Shang Qinghua’s office.

So Liu Qingge decided to take matters to his own hands.

Because Liu Qingge wasn't stupid as Shen Qingqiu was so fond of calling him. He knew that he had a strong presence, and at any given opportunity, Shang Qinghua would run away from him as if Liu Qingge were a Demon.

Except.

Except when he had caught the other by surprise.

The scene kept coming back to his mind during training and during... Some odd moments.

During training it made sense. He kept chasing the rush of being thrown on the ground, excitement running through his bones at the possibility of finding a new sparring partner, making his heart race. It also opened his eyes for his weakness in hand to hand combat, a skill he had to confess he had been neglecting. Part because his sword training took so much of his time already, part because people hardly dared to walk towards him in an empty corridor, to dare punch him in a spar match would be unthinkable, apparently.

The other times that were a bit confusing. In the past days, he would be writing a report and the smell of ink would make him pause and think of strong arms pressing his hands against the floor. Or during their peak lord meetings, he would stare at Shang Qinghua, thinking how to drag him to training but instead of imagining an exercise routine his brain would get stuck on the memory of thighs embracing his waist.

He drew the line when the scene came up to him during his bath, making him hot all over even though he was using snow water.

BANG!

He barged into the room with sword in hand, ready to drag the other to the training grounds if needed to, being greeted by the rarest sigh of all times.

Shang Qinghua's office with no Shang Qinghua on sight.

"I-I tried to tell you, Liu-shishu, shizun is not here today," a girl wearing the white robes of the head disciples stopped by his side, panting, as if she had ran after him all the way from the rainbow bridge. "He's with the little ones, so please, if you want I can schedule-"

"Nonsense, I'm going to see him now," he turned to look at the kid, a bit impressed she didn't crumbled in fear by his glare. Although she seemed to be as tired as her Shizun, she had a lot of more spine by the way she put her hands on her hips now that she had recovered her breath, ready to scold him.

"Liu-shishu might be able to push his way through in other peaks, but here we do things by the book. You can either schedule an appointment or leave."

This is why he had wanted to see Shang Qinghua directly, he didn't have the patience to go through all the bureaucracy An Ding was so fond of.

So he took a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek to not tap his foot at the kid just doing her job.

"Very well, when can I see him?"

She made a point of flipping her sleeves while passing by him to get to Shang Qinghua's desk, opening a small but thick booklet, flipping all the way to the end while humming. Then, with a smile that was eerily similar to Shang Qinghua's when he was about to scream at them about damage reparations, she said:

"He's free next month, on the third week, would that work for you?"

Liu Qingge squinted his eyes at her as he licked this teeth, making a tsk sound.

It felt as if she was lying. And at the back of his head he could hear Shen Qingqi dry chuckle.

"Nevermind," he turned around to leave the building, not bothering to wait for her reply. She wanted to play games and help Shang Qinghua hide from him? Fine. If words didn't work, he would use the good old intimidation.

"You!" He shouted at the first yellowed robe person he saw, pointing at them with his sword. "Where's Shang Qinghua?"

"Liu-shishu-" the boy tried to bow without stumbling on his feet while two disciples ran past them, pulling each other by their robes while whispering: "Liu-shishu? Really?!" and "Fuck yes I'm gonna get so much money-".

Honestly, cursing in front of your elders? The kids had no respect nowadays.

But he had no time to educate the youth.

"Where. Is. Shang Qinghua?"

The boy- because he couldn't be older than sixteen, stuttered while pointing at the west side of the mountain, slowly but surely trying to back away from Liu Qingge.

Not on his watch.

"Show me," he said as he put his sword away. It took him some minutes and a glare but he got the boy to start walking, guiding him all the way to a smaller house where he could hear children laughing, some of them running around a garden.

And in the middle of a huge group was Shang Qinghua, a low table set in front of him, surrounded by smaller ones as a group of kids seemed to be having a class.

Shit.

Before he could stop it, the An Ding disciple hurried to Shang Qinghua, whispering and then pointing his head at Liu Qingge's direction. And like candles being blown by wind, one by one, the kids started to quiet down, their huge eyes turning to look at Liu Qingge.

Was... Was he that scary?

"Okay, everyone, off you go. Class dismissed. And remember to finish your numbers today, I will check them!" Shang Qinghua said with a clap of hands, breaking the heavy mood with a bright smile. He helped some of the children clean up until an older disciple arrived, taking over the group.

Liu Qingge could feel he had ruined a precious moment. Realms, it might have been the first time he had seen Shang-Shixiong smiling, relaxed. And he actually felt bad when his theory was proved right by the way Shang Qinghua calmly walked towards Liu Qingge, his smile dropping as he tilted his head down, a deep sigh moving his broad shoulders.

"Liu-shidi," and right when he got closer enough, his usual too polite smile back on being plastered on his face.

"Shang-Shixiong."

"What can this one do for his shidi today?"

Liu Qingge felt his heart skip a beat before picking up speed. He shouldn't make him so tense, it was Shang Qinghua for Heavens sake!

Besides, he had thought about this for weeks. He had rehearsed lines and proposals, and he would never admit, but he even asked Mu Qingfang how to talk to Shang-Shixiong, he was ready, he-

"Fight me."

Maybe Shen Qingqiu had a point.

"I'm sorry?" Shang Qinghua blinked a couple of times before putting his hands up, waving them in front of him as he took a step back. "I'm sorry! Is this about the day in the office?! I'm so sorry shidi, I swear I am! Please don't-"

"I mean in a spar," he managed to spit it out, crossing and then uncrossing his arms, forcing his hands to stay down and relaxed. "This one is requesting his Shixiong to help him train in hand to hand combat."

Then he bowed, frowning at Shang Qinghua's surprised gasp. What was this with everyone thinking he was a brute?! He had manners! Has everyone forgotten he was from a noble family?!!

"Liu-shidi honors this one with such request, but I'm not good, really! It was uhh luck! I could never teach Liu-shidi in the matters of fighting-"

"Why not? Shang-Shixiong clearly has the knowledge, and I have just seen that he is a good teacher. Why you can't teach me your techniques?"

Shang Qinghua grumbled something he couldn't understand about changing points and skills, pressing his finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose as the other hand waved something to his side.

"Fine, Liu-shidi. You do have a point. But we are not going to go to do it at Bai Zhan Peak. I don't want this to be a big thing."

"Very well. Where should we meet then?"

"Tomorrow, their teacher will be back from their mission," he explained with a tilt of his head towards the house. "I'll have the morning free. We can meet at my house and use my garden, no one will disturb us there."

"I'll look forward to Shixiong's lessons."

They said their goodbyes, off to their duties. Liu Qingge again went back to staring at walls, tapping his fingers over his crossed arms, unable to focus on his disciples drills, deciding to go hunting to see if he could shake off his nervous energy to no avail. At night, he kept tossing and turning, and no meditation technique or set of exercises helped him to rest.

The next morning he felt as if he were a ball of condensed energy, ready to bounce and run towards An Ding Peak.

"Shizun? Are you okay?" his head disciple asked at some point during breakfast, a healthy distance away from him.

He finished his meal in less than three bites, leaving the table with just a "I'm going to An Ding Peak" as explanation, ignoring his Head Disciple calling for him.

And what if he flew instead of walking? He had an appointment with his fellow peak lord, no one would dare to comment on his eagerness.

"Liu-shidi, come in," Shang Qinghua greated him as soon as he set foot on the ground, waiting for Liu Qingge by the door.

The usual yellow robes were nowhere to be seen, swapped by a practical dark gray uniform, tighter to not get in the way of their fighting. And without the additional loose layers, it was impossible for Shang Qinghua to hide his broad chest and tonned thighs, strong enough to carry boxes and boxes of documents and parcels.

Strong enough to trap Liu Qingge and sque-

"I've set aside some clothing for you, so you don't dirty yours while we train," Shang Qinghua interrupted Liu Qingge unexpected thought, but still, the rest of the sentence echoed in his head. What was that?!, he through as Shang Qinghua walked them through the house until they reached an internal garden, lush grass covering the entire floor but for one patch of dirty right in the middle.

"Thank you," he took the clothing from Shang Qinghua's hands, looking around, doing his best to not stare at the other. "Where can I change?"

"There's a room right there, you can call me if you need any help."

Right.

No time to nonsense, he was waiting for this for a while now, he would learn as much as he could.

The offer for help wasn't necessary, the uniform was pretty straightforward to put on, nothing like Peak Lord clothing. He ignored the tingling down his spine when the picture of Shang Qinghua helping him undress came to his mind, leaving the room to face his opponent for the morning.

Shang Qinghua, with his legs in a split, stretching.

He felt his face warm up.

"Okay, shidi!" Shang Qinghua got up in a small jump, rotating his shoulders with a satisfying cracking sound. "Better start easy, I know you can handle, but hand to hand is a bit different than sword fighting. Now, stand up like this, good! Spread your legs a bit more- perfect."

They haven't started yet, and he was already sweating.

The first long minutes was just like any other martial class, Shang Qinghua helped him with posture, correcting his pose here and there. It was an odd sensation to have his usually skittish Shixiong touching him so freely, moving his body around without caring about Liu Qingge grunts or scared of Liu Qingge pushing back.

"Okay, this is for the basics. Do you remember the leg movement?"

Liu Qingge nodded as he pushed his hair out of the way, the strands sticking to his neck, itching his skin. Maybe that's why Shang Qinghua kept his hair up, because it had barely been an hour, and it felt as if he had been training for days.

They got into position again, Shang Qinghua letting him start the fight and run towards him to get tackled so Qingge could practice what he had learned. And, he understood where Shang-shishu was coming from by holding himself back.

But at the same time he was frustrated. He could feel under Shang Qinghua's skin a strength he had never felt from the other peak lord, an agility that took Liu Qingge breath away, and an intelligence to use Liu Qingge's own body and weight against him that he wished his disciples could see.

If anyone had told him that, of all the twelve peak lord's, Shang Qinghua was the one he would be considering to give lessons on his peak, he would have laughed at the person's face.

Now look at him, chest once more on the ground, wheezing as the air got knocked out of his lungs with Shang Qinghua pressed him down, fingers digging the back of his neck while the other arm hugged him by the waist, and powerful thighs hold down his legs.

"You're getting better each fight, Shidi," Qinghua gasped next to his ear, body sliding all over Liu Qingge's back. "You're going to master this in no time."

Liu Qingge could feel something shift, the air between them getting heated. Yes they're fighting, but he felt more as if he were about to face a dangerous creature instead of sparing with a fellow cultivator.

"Another round?" Qinghua's voice rumbled against his back, and Liu Qingge couldn't keep his eyes open, arching his back just enough so he could feel Qinghua's body pressed all over him. "Or we can take a break, we did good progress."

"No!" He used his legs to twist his body, their spar becoming more shoving and pushing than an actual martial fight. Then, in a moment of luck, Liu Qingge finally trapped Shang Qinghua.

Just like the first time they fought, they stayed frozen for a long moment, but this time with Liu Qingge on top, victory tasting like dirty and sweat. He realized that he should get up, their faces so close they were sharing the same air, Qingge's eyes caughting the glimpse of Qinghua's tongue.

His arms went numb and his brain got deafening quiet as he got just a tiny little closer, just-

Shang Qinghua raised his legs until they seized Liu Qingge by his waist, twisting their bodies again until Qinghua was on top, one hand immobilizing one of Qingge's legs by pushing it up until his knee was almost touching his chest, the other pinning both of his wrists to the ground.

"Seems like Shidi lost." And Liu Qingge was starting to think he had hit his head during their fight because... Who was this man? Where this confidence came from?!

And most importantly, why was it making him so- So!!

Oh.

Oh no.

"Is Liu-Shidi satisfied with the lesson?" Shang Qinghua smiled, and this time it was the furthest thing from his usual blank one. Oh, no, this smile was of a man who was about to have a feast.

And Liu Qingge was laying in a silver plate.

"Hmm. Liu-shidi did very well. This Shixiong thinks he deserves something nice for being such a good student," he said as he pressed his body down a bit more, tearing a moan from Qingge's throat. "What do you think, shidi? Would you like to have another round? Maybe somewhere a bit more... Comfortable?"

The line was cheesy, something straight out of one of his sister's books, and it shouldn't work, it shouldn't-

It shouldn't work but Liu Qingge felt himself nod, whispering "Yes" over and over again, moaning as Shang Qinghua threw him over his shoulder, carrying him all the way to his room.

And if he had gone back to more lessons later that week, and the week after that, well. He wouldn't be War God of Bai Zhan if he passed the opportunity of a good fight, right?

[dyns33]

Family's bad day

And to start 2025, a bit of Alfie Solomons and his wife !

It could happen that Y/N and Alfie didn't see each other for a whole day.

The King of Candem would get up very early, kissing his still sleeping wife goodbye before going for an important meeting, leaving her the choice of what she wanted to do, between staying at home, going to see her family, taking care of the Bakery or whatever came to her mind.

Most of the time, she found a way to do all that and more. When she arrived at the Barkery and Alfie was there too, they didn't spend their time stuck together either, too busy checking that the work was done well.

That day, Y/N had arrived late in the afternoon. As soon as she had passed through the door, Ollie had told her that Mr. Solomons was no longer there. He had complained about his back, saying that he was tired, and he had gone home.

Nothing alarming. He had been running around town for weeks to extinguish his territory and get new clients, he had to pay the price at some point.

The first thing that told her there was a problem was when she walked in and Cyril wasn't waiting for her.

No, the poor dog was in the living room, lying at the foot of the chair, right next to his master. When he saw her, Cyril stared at her with hopeful eyes, because he didn't know what to do anymore to handle the situation.

For his part, Alfie didn't move from the chair. Y/N couldn't see his face because his back was to her, facing the wall, but she guessed he wasn't sleeping. When Alfie slept, he always had his head stuck to the seat, snoring lightly.

She took a deep breath.

After the war, she had seen Arthur, Thomas and John in this state, like many other men. Empty, lost eyes. Silence during the day, turning into screams during the night.

They didn't talk about it, none of them, and Alfie was no exception. He had been a captain of a unit, that was the only thing she knew. Even though there was a lot of tension between him and her family, he respected the elder Shelbys for what they had been through there. All soldiers were brothers.

Slowly, Y/N put down her bag and jacket, before calmly approaching her husband. She stood at first, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Hello, Alfie. Would you like a cup of tea ?"

No answer. As if she wasn't there, he remained frozen in the chair, muscles tense, wild eyes staring at the wall where there was nothing hanging.

"Ollie told me you were tired. Don't you want to go to bed and rest a little ? Maybe that would help."

It wouldn't help, she knew. The nightmares would disturb his night, preventing him from sleeping or on the contrary drawing him into abysses even darker than the one he found himself in now.

Still calm and gentle, she sat on his legs, caressing his cheek, then his hair, before kissing him on the forehead.

"I can call Ollie. You've been working a lot lately. We could take a few days together. To the sea, perhaps ? What do you think ? The sun, the sand, the salty air, walking on the coast. You like that."

Even if he didn't answer, the decision was already made for her. They would go to the sea. They would go far from all this, to a peaceful place, so that Alfie could think about something else, or nothing.

They would go for a walk, then they would stay in the room, where she would make him forget the rest of the world, until he would only say her name like a prayer. It wouldn't be the first time, their honeymoon had been magical.

But it would only last a moment. Because the war would still be there, she could never do anything about it. A part of him had stayed in France.

Tenderly, she continued to rub his head, clinging to him.

"I love you, Alfie."

"Why ?"

The question could have annoyed her, but at that moment she was only relieved to have a reaction, that he came back to her.

Letting him see her smile, her hands not leaving his face, she moved back slightly so that they could look at each other.

Serious and tired, at least he was no longer staring at the wall.

"We've had this talk before, I think. When I thought I wasn't good enough for you."

"You're perfect." he whined, his arms moving to wrap around her waist. "Every time I wake up and see you sleeping next to me, I wonder if I'm dreaming or if I died in the trenches. Even though I don't deserve to go to heaven."

"Shh. You're home, Alfie. And you're a wonderful husband."

"Why ?" he insisted.

"Let's not lie, you've done horrible, horrible things. But you're still a good man, a man of honor. You don't hurt the weak, women, children. You take care of your own, you try to keep your commitments to your partners, when it's possible and advantageous. You're funny, sometimes, smarter than you want to show, and you make me very happy."

Alfie didn't seem completely convinced, as always, but he listened carefully to her answer, shaking his head, accepting it because Y/N never lied to him. She hid things, but she didn't lie.

He let her cuddle him a little longer, before she decided to take him by the hand and lead him to the bedroom. Like a child, he let her undress him and put him to bed, lying down next to her.

Silence returned, which could have been a good thing, but upon checking, Alfie still had his eyes open, now looking at the ceiling with great interest, even if his fingers were carelessly playing with her hair.

"Stay with me, please."

"Nothing will ever separate us, love. I will be lost, and the world with me, if you were torn from me. And if you decided to leave, struck by a surge of lucidity, then I will be alone to sink."

"I don't like seeing you like this. I don't like not being able to help you."

Again, his attention returned to her, his bright gaze piercing her soul to fill it with love, respect and insanity.

"Treacle, I would be drunk in my office or in an alley, screaming to death, hitting someone or falling asleep in my vomit, if you didn't help me."

"At least you would look a bit alive, ready to fight. Your desperate look touches me."

"Well, sorry."

"No, that's not what I meant. It's not your fault. I'm just helpless. This damn war… It took so many lives, and even after it's over it continues. It's unfair."

With his deep voice, Alfie let out a thoughtful grunt, nodding slightly. It had been several years now, and yet the feeling was still there, anchored in all the veterans.

Some had come to terms with it, but most were still fighting against these demons.

If he hadn't met Y/N, Alfie Solomons could have succumbed to it. He would have made a lot of bad decisions, without a doubt, especially concerning the Shelbys. It would have probably earned him a bullet in the head at one point or another.

For a time, he could have voluntarily sought this way out, when a doctor had detected something strange in his cough, talking about cancer. His sweet wife had held his hand, asking all the questions he didn't dare ask, demanding treatment.

He hadn't died on the front, he had finally found happiness, and a race between two trenches, passing through smoke, was going to ruin everything.

He had thought about putting a gun in his mouth to end it quickly, saving his dear wife from having to deal with him. He had also thought about annoying the Shelby brothers one last time, so that Thomas or Arthur would solve the problem.

But Y/N would have been sad. He couldn't bear the idea of ​​making her sad, even to make her life easier.

In addition to the few medicines he had obtained, Y/N had consulted her aunt and the other witches in her family, while forcing him to go for walks to the sea with her more and more often.

So, they had passed Margate. Alfie had already seen the place once, he had thought it was beautiful, that it would be good to end his days there, and now he thought about it quite often.

Especially since his miraculous recovery. The doctor couldn't believe it, refusing to admit that he could have made a misdiagnosis, like the fact that it was possible that the Romani methods could have worked.

But this episode had awakened something. Every night, Alfie was with his men, preparing the assault, ready to die on the battlefield. He felt the gas enter him, insinuating itself into his organs, until the bomb exploded near him, partially disfiguring him.

Then he woke up, and the first thing he saw was Y/N, peacefully sleeping against him. A dream vision. An impossibility, an aberration. A woman like her, with a bastard like him.

Her brothers had told him that it was absurd to marry this madman. All her family, her friends, and even Alfie's own relatives, who were intelligent enough to see that she was too good for him.

However, Tommy and the others had ended up accepting him. Almost finding him suitable even. They must have lost their minds. Especially Arthur.

"Alfie ?"

"Yes, treacle ?"

"I love you." she said again with force and conviction, placing a soft kiss near his mouth.

"I love you too, more than anything. Don't worry about lil old me. Ollie's right, I just need some rest, I'm not sleeping well at the moment."

"I'll ask Polly for some herbal tea."

Alfie would rant as he smelled the brew, cursing her aunt and saying she was going to poison or drug him. But he would eventually drink the cup Y/N handed him, knowing that it would help, plus the fact that his wife was there to watch over him, ready to defend him against the world, and against himself.

[megxplryxb]

Someone to Save You

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff, slight mention of death (Billy), mention of violence (evil Russians), no use of y/n, set in Season 3.

Notes: Short fic that’s been unfinished in my drafts for far too long and I got tired of seeing it sitting there judging me.

"I guess we're gonna have to find new jobs now huh?" Robin laughs anxiously, brows raised, eyes wide as she tries her best to lighten the mood while you both sit in the back of an ambulance watching on as Hawkins finest attempt to extinguish the flames currently engulfing what remains of the Starcourt mall. It was clear the two of you were still visibly shaken up, trying to come to terms with everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours and a part of you wondered if you were still tripping from the drugs you’d been injected with earlier because there was no way you had actually fought a monster like creature from another dimension back in the food court, let alone gotten kidnapped and held hostage by an army of Russian soldiers.

The sound of sirens echoing throughout the parking lot made you wince as your head pounded in agony from the beating you’d taken at the hands of the guards during their unsuccessful interrogation of yourself and Steve. Looking down to inspect yourself, you see your Scoops uniform covered in blood and vomit, your legs and arms covered in cuts and bruises and the bottom of your lip split wide open, making you wonder how the fuck you had actually managed to make it out in one piece.

It was only supposed to be for fun, trying to translate that stupid Russian code. Something to do to pass the time during your shifts at Scoops Ahoy, a form of entertainment in between having to serve bratty children and stuck up parents their ice cream. It wasn’t meant to end up with you and Steve being beaten to a bloody pulp or with the mall burning down and it certainly wasn’t meant to end with the death of Billy Hargrove. Unfortunately, there was much more going on beneath the surface of Hawkins, Indiana than you could have ever imagined and somehow you’d managed to get yourself directly caught in the crossfire.

"Yeah, it looks like it." You eventually mutter, not really listening to your friend as she rambles on about how the government was going to cover all of this up, long zoned out, too focused on your handsome coworker to care about any cover up story.

Your eyes had been glued to Steve Harrington since the paramedics helped him to another ambulance across the lot to get checked out. Dustin Henderson was standing by his side as always, refusing to leave his friend and hero alone. His face and presumably his body were badly battered after the punishment he had taken during your time in the Russian base, trying his best to protect you and keep you safe. Steve had pleaded with the guards to let you go, promising he’d tell them everything they wanted to know once they guaranteed your safety but you refused to abandon him and in the end, you both suffered the consequences until Robin, Erica and Dustin had come to your eventual rescue.

Watching Steve get knocked unconscious had absolutely terrified you. His lifeless body unresponsive on the floor as you screamed for him to wake up, to move, to do anything just to let you know he was alive. When he finally came to, you wrapped yourself around him, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest with relief when he mumbled that he was ‘ok’, even managing to tease you for being a blubbering mess over him when you always claimed to hate him.

It was true, you did hate him back in High School. Couldn’t stand him or his shitty friends and the way they believed they were actual fucking royalty. But then you graduated, hoping to forget the trauma of Hawkins High, got a job working in Scoops Ahoy and to your utter horror, Steve Harrington was behind the counter wearing a god damn sailor outfit that didn’t even fit him right. Of course, Robin tried to tell you that things were different now, that he wasn’t the same asshole from school. His ‘King’ title long relinquished and his trust fund completely confiscated and in your eyes, it was karma and karma was a bitch. Admittedly, you were also a bitch, refusing to believe he’d actually changed his ways, giving the cold shoulder, throwing a harsh comment whenever the opportunity presented itself. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it and Steve too gave just as good as he got, annoying you on a daily basis, ruining every possible chance you had of a date when someone tried to ask you out, spilling ice cream on your uniform and just making a total nuisance of himself around you.

It’s only when his Dad arrived into the parlour one evening to collect him that you really felt sorry for Steve. His BMW had been in the garage and his Dad walked in, tossing him some clothes to change into before he left the mall, not wanting anyone to see his son “looking like an idiot”. You don’t know why seeing Steve being ridiculed and humiliated by his own Father mad you angry but it did. You could still remember the look on Steve’s face when it happened and a part of you wanted to defend him, to pull him into you and hug him but that would have been weird back then. So you decided to give him a break after that night, finally getting to know him after a longer than usual shift, both of you stuck cleaning up after a birthday party and you realised Robin was right. He had changed. He was kind and sweet and somehow he had six kids who absolutely adored him and the longer you were around him, you couldn’t help but start to adore him too.

“It’s okay to admit that you care about him, y’know?” Robin whispers, nudging your shoulder, shaking you from your thoughts of Steve. “Dingus is a good guy and it’s pretty obvious he cares a lot about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Robin.” You laugh dismissively, trying to avoid the conversation completely because maybe you weren’t fully ready to admit your feelings to yourself yet.

“Oh please! You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re totally into each other.” She states but you shake your head defensively, hoping it was too dark for her to see the tints of pink on your cheeks.

“No, it’s not like that. I mean, Steve could barely stand to be around me a couple of weeks ago. There’s no way he has actual feelings for me.” You assert but it does little to dissuade Robin who’s had a front row seat to your constant bickering over the last couple of months and while it seemed like you both truly despised each other at the beginning, it became clear to her that you and Steve were hiding behind your real feelings and the last few days only made it all the more obvious.

“Come on, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he gets totally jealous every time Jason Carver comes in to flirt with you. He tries to act like he doesn’t care but his face gives him away every time. Not to mention how happy he was when you fell asleep on his shoulder in that damn elevator, poor guy couldn’t stop gazing at you.” She chuckles as Erica walks towards you both.

“You’re talking about Harrington right? Dustin said he’s totally in love with you and since I’ve spent the last twenty four hours stuck with your insane asses, I’m inclined to agree with him.” The younger Sinclair smirks, folding her arms. You try your best to ignore them both, reverting your gaze back towards the direction of Steve who’s already looking right at you. Dustin is pointing your way, speaking passionately and although you can’t hear what he’s saying, you assume it’s about you because Steve quickly slaps his hand away before rolling his eyes at the younger boy.

“See?” Robin nudges you again. “He keeps looking over here. Just go talk to him, please? Put us all out of our misery.” She begs, giving you puppy dog eyes as Erica whistles at Dustin to call him over, giving him a small thumbs up as he grins widely and starts to make his way over.

“Why do I feel like I’ve just been set up?” You grit your teeth, glaring at your friends.

“Maybe because you have been.” Robin smiles sweetly, shoving you forward as you begin to walk towards Steve. Your stomach twists as you get closer to the boy, hoping you don’t look as anxious as you feel. If everyone else could tell you had feelings for him, wasn’t it likely he knew too?

“If you came over here to tell me I look like shit, you're too late, Henderson already beat you to it.” Steve jokes, looking at you through his one good eye, the other badly swollen as he holds an ice pack to his face, wincing a little from the cool contact.

“Relax Harrington, you’re still annoyingly pretty. I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.” You say, taking a seat beside him on the edge of the ambulance as he scoots over for you. "Besides, it’s not like I can talk right now, I'm sure I don’t look much better.” You sigh as he scans the injuries on your face, hating himself for getting you caught up in all of this mess.

“Nah, don’t worry. You’re still beautiful .” He smirks, his bruised face still achingly gorgeous in the night sky as you both lock eyes, sitting in silence for a moment before you finally remember to breathe.

Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington had just called you beautiful. You— the girl he once claimed to hate. The girl that used to drive him utterly insane in High School. Shit, in the few short months you’ve worked in Scoops Ahoy with Steve, you’ve heard him use many terms when talking about other girls, ‘hot’ ‘cute’ ‘pretty’ but he’d never used the word beautiful. Did he really think you were beautiful?

“I think you’re still high, Steve.” You blush, placing a strand of hair behind your ear as he shakes his head.

“No. For the first time in a while, I think I’m seeing things pretty clearly actually.” He affirms, too confidently for a guy who looks like he’s just gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali.

“I’m not sure how that’s possible when you can’t see out of one eye right now but okay.” You giggle and he laughs with you.

“Come on, you know what I mean.” He playfully bumps your shoulder to grab your focus. His caramel eyes moving to your lips before looking back at you again and suddenly there’s a familiar tension in the air between you that you’ve refused to acknowledge before.

“Do I?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you take the ice pack from him, holding it to the side of his face soothingly.

“God I hope so.” He breathes out, lifting his hand to cover yours. You can sense that he’s nervous and you almost want to laugh at how insane this all seems. The thought of Steve Harrington being nervous because of you would have been comical a couple of months ago but here you are, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you stupid.

“I’m really fucking sorry for getting you guys mixed up in all of this.” He mutters, a guilty look across his face as he lowers his head.

“Hey, no. None of this is your fault Steve. Nobody could have known what was going to happen.” You try to comfort him but he can’t help feel slightly responsible.

“No, I should have known the reason those Russian’s came to Hawkins. I should have known that thing was back. God I’m so stupid!” He spits with anger in his voice, throwing his head back.

“You’re not stupid Steve.” You say softly, gently placing your hand on his thigh.

“Come on honey, you can say it, s’not like I don’t already know.” He half laughs and you hate that he thinks of himself that way, that he thinks you think of him that way.

“I don’t think that Steve, I never thought that. An asshole? Yes. Selfish? Hell yes. But not stupid, never stupid and after actually getting to know you—the real you and not the person you pretended to be in High School, I can safely say I was wrong about who I thought you were.” You admit, finally finding the courage to reach for his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Oh yeah? What changed your mind hmm?” He asks, grinning as he turns his body fully towards you, rubbing his thumb over the delicate skin of your knuckles.

“I’m not sure really, maybe seeing how good of a babysitter you are, how protective you are of all your kids. That might have had a little something to do with it.” You tease as he chuckles with you. “Only a little huh?”

“Well, it might also have something to do with you saving my life. Trying to sacrifice yourself so they’d let me go. That was really brave Steve.” You whisper, trying to stop yourself from getting choked up.

“And it was really stupid of you to refuse.” Steve replies, immediately wiping away the tear he can see trailing down your cheek.

“Hey, if we go down, then we go down together. That’s the Scoops Ahoy! policy remember?” You remind him as he shakes his head at you, cupping your face, caressing the apples of your cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d have done if something bad happened to you. Every time they touched you, every time they even looked at you— god I wanted to fucking kill them.”

“Careful Harrington, it almost sounds like you care about me.” You breathe out, hypnotised by his full pink lips as you realise they’re inching incredibly closer to yours.

“Shit honey, what gave it away?” He smirks at you, finally closing the space between you as his lips gently meet yours in a warm embrace. You can hear the wolf whistles from across the lot, both of you laughing into the kiss as your friends cheer you on and you can’t help feel like a kid playing spin the bottle for the first time.

You eventually break apart when the medic coughs awkwardly, mortified that he’s had to stumble across a make out session as you both try your best to hide your embarrassment, your cheeks flushing bright red.

“Alright Mr Harrington, from what I can see, it looks like you’ve got a bit of a concussion there. I know you mentioned your parents are currently out of town so I think it might be best if we keep you in overnight at the hospital tonight.” The man says as you watch Steve sigh heavily.

“I’m sure I’ll be ok by myself, I’m not really the biggest fan of hospitals sir.” He admits, swallowing hard and you can’t help but be mad at his parents for once again being absent when he needed them.

“I’m really not comfortable with you being alone tonight Mr Harrington, I’d rather you come—“

“He won’t be alone. He can come stay with me, I’ll look after him.” You interrupt, taking Steve’s hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. His head turns to you immediately, eyes glossy and mouth open in awe of your kindness, he feels like his heart is going to explode.

“Are, are you sure?” He mumbles, blushing as you kiss him on the cheek.

“Of course I’m sure, I owe you for saving my life. Maybe it’s time, you let someone save you.”

[caitified]

hi hi hi!! can u write caitlin x reader based on good luck babe by chappell? but reader is the one with bf and caitlin is the one with a hopeless crush on her?

pls pls pls and thank u

good luck, babe!

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:straight reader for a min

being teammates with caitlin clark on the indiana fever was incredible. she was a superstar, both on and off the court, and quickly became your best friend when you joined the team. you clicked instantly—whether it was cracking jokes in the locker room or pushing each other to be better during practices, you two had a bond that went beyond just basketball. caitlin was someone you could rely on, and that meant the world to you.

but for caitlin, it was something more.

from the day she met you, caitlin felt that spark. it started as a crush, the kind you get when someone just captivates you. you were beautiful, smart, and a killer player. but then you became her best friend, and caitlin was stuck. she watched you with your boyfriend, always laughing, always happy—or at least, that’s what it looked like from the outside. you were straight, or so you believed, and caitlin knew she didn’t stand a chance. but she couldn’t help it—the way she felt about you only grew stronger, even though it killed her to see you with someone else.

the worst part was how often you talked to caitlin about him. about how you’d had a fight or how he wasn’t as attentive as he used to be. she wanted to scream every time, wanted to tell you that he didn’t deserve you, that she would treat you better, but she held back. after all, what could she do? you were in love with him—or at least, you thought you were.

“ugh, he’s being so distant lately,” you muttered after practice one day. you were sitting in the locker room next to caitlin, texting your boyfriend and frowning at the screen.

caitlin clenched her jaw, trying to keep her expression neutral. “maybe he’s just busy?” she offered, though she knew that wasn’t the real issue.

you sighed, putting your phone down. “i don’t know… sometimes it feels like we’re just going through the motions, you know? like, he’s there, but it doesn’t feel like he sees me anymore.”

caitlin bit her tongue, resisting the urge to say what was really on her mind. “you deserve someone who’s going to be there for you—really be there,” she said quietly, her voice laced with frustration. “someone who actually sees you.”

you smiled weakly at her, not catching the deeper meaning in her words. “thanks, cait. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

she forced a smile, though inside, it felt like a knife twisting in her chest. she hated seeing you unhappy with him, but what could she do? you were straight. you weren’t going to leave your boyfriend for her, no matter how badly she wanted it.

but then, everything changed.

one night, after a tough game, the team went out to celebrate a hard-fought win. you had a few drinks—nothing too crazy—but enough to loosen up and relax after the stress of the game. caitlin was by your side, as always, laughing and joking with you. as the night wore on, the two of you ended up outside the bar, sitting on a bench, a little tipsy but still aware of what was happening.

you leaned your head on her shoulder, sighing contentedly. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you mumbled, the alcohol making you more affectionate than usual.

caitlin’s heart raced at the contact, but she tried to play it cool. “well, i’m not going anywhere,” she said softly, her hand resting on your knee.

you turned your head to look at her, your gaze lingering a little longer than it should have. something in her eyes made your stomach flutter, but you quickly brushed it off. it’s just caitlin, you told yourself. you’re straight. you have a boyfriend.

but then she leaned in, just a little, and suddenly, the air between you felt different.

“what are you staring at?” she teased, tossing you a wink, but her voice was softer, more intense than usual.

“nothing,” you teased back, grinning. “no big deal.”

she chuckled, but her eyes never left yours. “you know,” she began, her voice low, “i’ve been wanting to say something for a while, but i wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

you frowned slightly, the playful mood shifting into something more serious. “what do you mean?”

caitlin swallowed hard, her heart pounding. this was it—the moment she’d been dreading, but also the moment she couldn’t hold back any longer. “i like you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i really like you.”

your breath caught in your throat, and you blinked, trying to process what she was saying. “caitlin… i have a boyfriend,” you stammered, though your voice sounded less convincing than you’d hoped.

“i know,” she said, her eyes locked on yours. “but i can’t help how i feel. and i don’t think you can either.”

you opened your mouth to protest, to say something, anything to push this away, but the words wouldn’t come. because deep down, you knew she was right. there was something between you—something you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge until now.

“i’ve never been with a girl,” you whispered, your heart racing.

caitlin smiled softly, her hand sliding up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine. “you don’t have to decide anything right now,” she murmured, her lips just inches from yours. “but i can’t pretend anymore.”

before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to hers. the kiss was electric, like a spark had been ignited between you, and suddenly, everything made sense. it wasn’t your boyfriend who made you feel like this—it was caitlin. it had always been caitlin.

her hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and you melted into her touch, your mind spinning. you’d never felt like this before, never wanted someone the way you wanted her.

when you finally pulled back, breathless, you stared at her in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. “what does this mean?” you whispered, your voice shaky.

caitlin’s lips curved into a small smile, her hand still resting on your thigh. “it means you’ve been with the wrong person all along.”

[candycandy00]

The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)

You’re a passenger on a ship attacked by pirates. The pirate captain Sukuna chooses you to be his entertainment for the voyage.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Very rough sex! Violence. Blood. Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be multiple parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

“Sukuna!”

Your voice doesn’t sound like it belongs to you as you cry out his name. You’re behind him, unable to see where he was stabbed, but blood is pooling at your feet. 

The man who attacked you is suddenly thrown back, his body slamming into the deck. Sukuna turns to face you, and you see that the dagger has stabbed completely through his forearm. It frightens you, but you can’t help being relieved that he hasn’t been hit in a vital spot. 

Several other pirates run over and grab the attacker, holding him down. His face is shoved down against the deck. 

“He must have stowed away at the port,” one of them says to Sukuna. 

The captain walks over to the man, seeming completely unfazed by the knife stuck in his arm. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But your plan was weak.”

The man grunts in frustration, trying in vain to break free. “Murderer! You’ll burn in hell for what you’ve done!”

Sukuna grins down at him. “Maybe I’ll fuck your fiancé when I get there. Oh wait, you said her body was found on the ship. She must have been an ugly, worthless cunt if I didn’t bother bringing her to my ship for my men to fuck.”

The man’s face twists in rage and despair, and he screams. No words, just a guttural howl of fury. And mid scream, Sukuna brings his boot down on the man’s head, cracking it open like watermelon. You turn your face away. You’ve seen bloodshed before, on your own ship, but it doesn’t make this any less gruesome. And even though the man tried to kill you, you can’t help feeling sorry for him. He lost someone precious to him in a horrific way. That would drive anyone to madness. 

Sukuna turns to you. “Let’s go back to my quarters.”

You look at his arm and then back to his face. “But, the dagger! You need to-“

“I need a strong drink!” he says, grinning to his men. They cheer their captain, and one of them hurries off to get that drink.

Sukuna takes you by the hand and pulls you along with him. On the way back to his cabin, one of the pirates hands him a full bottle of rum. 

Once inside, he shuts the door and heads over to his bed to sit down. He opens the bottle of rum and takes a long drink. 

“Don’t you have a doctor on this ship?” you ask, moving over to him. 

“I do, but I’m not going to him.”

“What?! Why not? You’ve got a dagger in your arm! When you pull it out, you’ll bleed to-“

“I’m the captain of this ship,” he says firmly. “I can’t show weakness in front of my men. It would be better to die from an injury than to be killed in a mutiny and have my legacy tarnished.”

“That’s ridiculous!” you shout, realizing a second later that it’s the first time you’ve raised your voice to him outside of your screams during sex. 

He puts one hand on the hilt of the dagger. “It’ll be fine. I’ve had worse wounds.”

“Wait!” you yell, then hurry over to the dresser to pull out a fresh sheet. You rip it into strips. “You’ll need to bandage it quickly!”

He takes another drink of the rum, then jerks the dagger out and drops it to the floor. Blood begins pouring out of the wound at an alarming rate. He pours some of the rum over it, not even wincing at the burn, then reaches for the strips of cloth. 

You rush over and grab them, holding his arm out and beginning to wrap it up. Sukuna pulls his arm free. “I can do it myself! I’m not depending on a woman to-“

“Twice now!” you suddenly say, cutting him off. “Twice now you’ve told me to touch you as I please! This is how I please! Will you go back on your words, Captain?”

He stares at you for a moment, then laughs. “You’re right. Do as you wish then.”

He holds still from then on and lets you bandage his arm tightly. It takes more cloth than you expected, forcing you to tear up more strips, and Sukuna finishes off the rum. When finished, you sigh and sit on the bed beside him. “We’ll have to change it every couple days or so, and watch out for infection. But I think this has stopped the bleeding.”

He looks at you, his eyes slightly glazed from the rum and the blood loss. “Why are you doing this? You should be trying to kill me yourself.”

“You only got stabbed because you stood in front of me,” you tell him. “Why did you do that?”

He scoffs, looking away from you. “I told you before. I’m not done playing with you yet. I intend to enjoy you thoroughly before the end of this voyage.”

It strikes you then that this is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. Injured and weakened, while still maintaining his smug persona. But there’s something in his demeanor, in his eyes, that feels different. He leans just slightly against you, the shoulder of his injured arm touching yours. 

You reach one hand over and place it carefully on his bandages. His body feels warm next to you. “Thank you for protecting me,” you say quietly. 

He meets your gaze, wearing a mysterious expression. “I’m an injured man. Are you going to comfort me, woman?”

You suddenly feel hot, almost feverish. You realize there’s a part of you that’s been wanting to touch him all evening. You stand up from the bed and move to stand in front of him. As he watches, you slowly pull off the lovely new dress and drape it over a nearby chair, then you step closer until you’re standing between his legs. 

His uninjured arm circles around you, pulling you so that your body is pressed firmly against him. You wrap your arms around his neck and he tilts his head up slightly. You kiss him, deeply and passionately, your lips smashed into his, your tongue slipping into his hot, rum coated mouth. 

You feel a hand softly squeezing your breast, and look down to see that he’s using his bandaged arm. You wonder absently if flexing his fingers like this hurts his wound. But then his mouth moves down, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone before  closing around your hardened nipple, his wet tongue flicking at it. 

Your breathing gets faster as you snake your hands down to open his pants. Unsurprisingly, he’s already hard, his huge cock standing up straight and proud. You position yourself above it, then slowly sink down, wincing slightly at how he stretches you. 

He’s staring at your face, his expression calm, as if he hasn’t just been stabbed, as if there’s not a naked woman currently in his lap, struggling to take his entire cock. You want to make him react, to see his handsome face display the pleasure you give him, so you lower yourself further down, gasping when you feel that he’s all the way in. 

You sit there for a moment, your arms wrapped around him, face pressed into his shirt, giving yourself time to adjust to his massive size. It’s a luxury you don’t normally get. Strangely, he doesn’t rush you to begin moving, or thrust up into you. His good arm simply remains wound around your back.  

Once you’re ready, you pull back slightly to look him in the eyes as you gradually begin moving up and down. Your hands slip down and begin unbuttoning his shirt. You’re struck by the urge to feel his muscled torso against your skin, to see those alluring tattoos. Once his shirt is open, your fingers slide beneath it, your palms rubbing over his chest. 

You know you’re playing a dangerous game. These feelings you’re experiencing will only bring you pain. Another pirate sneeringly told you that Captain Sukuna never keeps or releases his women. Without exception he always either kills them or hands them over to his men once he’s done playing with them. The pirate seemed to think it would be the latter, and you cringed when his eyes roved over you. 

How will you feel when he decides he’s tired of you? When he’s stabbing you to death? When he’s laughing and watching his men take turns with you? 

You can’t imagine it, but you also can’t fight what you’re feeling right now as you sink down to the base of his cock again, taking quick shuddering breaths as you maintain eye contact with him. 

***********************

Sukuna still doesn’t know exactly why he protected her. He tells himself it’s probably because he didn’t want to lose his plaything for the rest of the voyage. But the truth is, he moved without thinking, as if it were a reflex. 

And now, that beautiful, delicate flower he protected is riding him so well. His instinct is to throw her onto the bed and fuck her violently, but there’s something appealing about watching her take the lead, watching her take his cock so very deep of her own accord. Her motions are slow, but deliberate, intimate. She clenches him tightly, her eyes full of lust, her lips plump and swollen from their kiss. 

She leans her head down, and he feels her wet little tongue on his chest, licking along the black lines of ink. Ah, such a sweet maiden. He could stay buried inside her forever. 

What is he going to do with her? The thought of any of his men touching her, experiencing her tight, velvety pussy for themselves, fills him with intense anger. And he can’t bring himself to snuff out her existence. 

He pushes these thoughts to the back of his mind. No use thinking about it now, while she’s wrapped around him so pleasingly. She pushes down again, taking him all the way in, and her soft hands tremble as her breaths hitch. Her face looks blissful, her expression rapturous. 

“You’re… so deep… inside me,” she says, now gripping his shoulders for dear life. “Feels… so good!”

Sukuna has never done this before, never allowed a woman to climb onto him and fuck herself on his cock as she pleases, going so slowly and carefully. He’s always only cared for his own pleasure, which he got from pounding into women as roughly as possible, enjoying their screams and the friction of fucking them so hard. 

But looking at the unbelievably beautiful woman before him, he’s beginning to understand the appeal of fucking this way. Watching such a pure, innocent maiden’s face glow with pleasure just from having his cock inside her is making him feel heated in a way he’s never experienced before. 

Her eyes are locked onto his, and she suddenly appears shy. Funny, considering she’s completely naked, breasts bouncing in front of his face as her slick pussy moves up and down his shaft. “Does it… feel good… for you?” she asks as she continues moving, clearly craving validation from him. 

He grins at her. “Feels so good, I’m going to completely fill your womb with my cum.”

She sighs, closing her eyes as if she’s content. Then her arms are around him again, her body pressed to his, and he can feel her heartbeat through her skin. It’s beating so fast as she moves her hips in a circular motion, moaning when his cock hits the right spot inside her. 

When she cums, she clamps down on him, and he can feel her shuddering as her heart races. Sukuna has never truly felt another human being so deeply before, been so connected to another person, and for a brief moment, even he is overwhelmed. A throaty moan escapes his lips, and she immediately looks at his face, her eyes wide. In the heat of the moment, he only wants to feel more of her, so he pulls her into a kiss, their tongues mingling, until he reaches release.

As promised, he fully coats her insides with his seed, wanting to dye her in his colors completely. 

The pain in his arm is all but forgotten as they stay there on the bed, melded into each other. 

******************************

For the next several days, things are back to what you call normal on this ship. Sukuna goes back to being rough with you, but your body has slowly begun to enjoy it, to a certain degree. 

For as long as you live, you’ll never forget the sheer intimacy of that night, when he was gentle with you for the first time. You felt like the two of you became one, if only for a few moments. You long to experience that again, but Sukuna has shown no inclination towards repeating that night.

The end of the two weeks is quickly approaching, and you feel dread building in the pit of your stomach. Your only plan is to beg Sukuna to kill you swiftly, because dying by his hands would be preferable to being handed over like a piece of meat, discarded and unwanted. 

So on the eve before your last day, before the ship will dock at their destination, you feel extremely anxious as you wait in Sukuna’s quarters. When he walks in, you stand up from the bed, holding your hands in front of you nervously. 

“We’ll reach land in the morning,” Sukuna tells you. “We’re just spending a few days there to resupply and rest.”

You nod, wondering why he’s bothering to tell you. 

He looks at your worried face, and he’s silent for a moment. You have your plea prepared in your mind. You’ll as him to give you a quick and painless death. But he sighs and sits in his chair. “When we dock, you’ll leave the ship. I’ll give you enough gold to buy passage to wherever you were going.”

You feel like you’ve been slapped. “What?”

“I’m letting you go,” he says. “You can return to whatever life you were living.”

Your fists are now balled at your sides. Your whole body is shaking as tears sting your eyes. “How dare you!” you suddenly shout. 

Sukuna blinks, surprised by your outburst. 

“You kidnap me,” you begin, “have your way with me, make me fall in love with you, then send me away?! How could you?!”

His eyes widen slightly, then that smug grin you’ve grown to love spreads over his face. “So you’ve actually fallen for me?”

You feel your cheeks burning. You didn’t intend to confess your feelings this way. But the cat’s out of the bag now. “Yes, I have. And I won’t be thrown off the ship like a stowaway!”

Sukuna stands up and steps over to you. “If you stay, I can’t guarantee anything. I might end up doing something truly heinous to you.”

You look up at him. “I understand.”

He puts one hand on your face, his thumb grazing your lips. “I won’t go easy on you just because you love me. I’ll still fuck you whenever I want, as hard as I want.”

You swallow, then slowly nod. “I can accept that.”

His eyes seem to soften. “But I suppose… fucking you gently every now and then wouldn’t be so bad.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. When he pulls away, you steel your resolve and say, “I have a request.”

There’s a hint of surprise on his face as he says, “Oh? And what would that be? More dresses? We can get some when we dock.”

“No more women,” you say. 

He laughs. “Jealous already? I don’t intend to take a woman for myself while I already have one who pleases me.”

“No, I mean… no taking any women. At all.”

“The men will hate you,” he says, though he’s still smiling. 

“I was thinking about this. There should be women willing to come aboard and… entertain the crew if they’re paid or perhaps given free passage to somewhere they’d like to go.”

“You mean whores.”

That’s not a word you’re comfortable using, but you nod. “Yes. And wouldn’t the men be better served by women who choose to be here, who have experience pleasuring men?”

“I’ll consider it,” he says, then he suddenly jerks your body to him and wraps his arms around you. His wound seems to be healing well. “Now take off this dress before I rip it off. You’ll need something to wear when we disembark tomorrow.”

You slide the dress up and over your head. “Will you be gentle with me tonight?” you ask. 

His hands are already exploring your body. “Not when you ask me so sweetly. It only makes me want to ravage you more.”

Your fingers are tracing his tattoos. “But I wanted to feel you tonight, all the way to my core, while I ride you.”

He pauses, looking into your eyes. “You’ve bewitched me, woman.”

You smile at him as he takes your hand and leads you to the bed. Your true voyage has only just begun. 

[witless-winion1]

Reread your fic and it got me thinking:

God Games reprise/parody but it's the crew in the afterlife discussing whether to help Odysseus during 600 strike. Different arguments and stuff but same musical structure.

After getting Perimedes but to the tune of the Aphrodite name intro in God Games stuck in my head, I need to share this concept with someone. Uh, Polities is Athena and the one in Odysseus's defense. Eurylochus gets Ares' bit (the Ares, Ares intro chant is Euryl-ochus). Elpenor gets Apollo's part. Idk who the others are. Zeus's bit is Hades because they're trying to convince him to let them leave the Underworld temporarily to go kick his brother's ass (except he's not a sore loser).

oh my god

oh my god

OH MY GOD

OH MY-

HOLY SHIT THATS-

wiaitwoaiyeaitwaitwaitwait

H A N G ON

Thank you for rereading my fanfic!!! :)

I feel like Eurylochus would be better as Hephaestus because he has MANY MIXED FEELINGS that cancel out to become a real emotional neutrality, like Hephaestus’s stoic neutrality, and both are one push away from deciding in the other’s favor. Does that make sense? I’m incomprehensible when excited

There’s not enough named men in EPIC to fill every role, so we might have to get…creative…

Thank you, you’ve cursed my brain to loop ✨~Periiimeeddeeesss~✨ or elPEnor 🦜

Zeus- Hades

Athena- Polites

Apollo- Elpenor (argument: Ody didn’t care enough to notice when he died on Circe’s island) (counter argument is that he was stressed tf out and still high on moly, he wasn’t great at counting heads, also it was Elpenor’s fault for getting drunk, like how Athena basically says “the sirens were trying to kill him, you dolt”)

Hephaestus- Eurylochus (the argument is literally the same as Hephaestus’s, but he’s on the verge of tears) (Poli just kinda murmurs something about it being many people’s fault, including Eury’s, and then hugs him, and Eury just barely chokes out his agreement)

Aphrodite- Perimedes (argument: is sacrificed six men to Scylla! And he gestures to six traumatized souls in the corner— counter argument is that there was no other way unless they’d all rather get thrashed by Poseidon instead of only six being eaten by Scylla) (or maybe he just points out how stupid it was to fix himself to the Cyclopes, and Poli goes “..a guy can make mistakes, can’t he? He’s just a man…”

Ares- ……an older, gruffer solider that’s bitter with Ody for just giving into Zeus’s demand to choose instead of using his Buff Brain like he has been this whole time (with the counter-argument that it’s LITERALLY ZEUS, KING OF GODS)? Or Hades pulls up a Trojan guard/solider that got killed, but idk how Polites would convince him…

Hera- I’m thinking either a) Persephone (because Zeus used his wife and also Persephone wanted to be included and Hades wasn’t gonna tell her no), and she’s already kinda “I’m fine with letting him go but I wanna mess with this funny little pancake boy” or b) a killed siren that Hades fetches, but he accidentally grabs a younger one that had no idea what was really happening during the massacre and is really confused so she just goes “uh-um, who? Some guy who wants to get home? Sure go help him but first you gotta sing with me” (like Hera’s disco battle)

it’s be fun if we could add Tiresias, Anticlea, or Astyanax in, but that probably wouldn’t work because

Tiresias- I can see him being irritated by Ody screaming in his face like an angry owl; he would be a good option, but I can’t see him fitting anywhere here

Anticlea:- are you kidding? That’s just Hades rigging the game in Polites’ favor. She’d say “YES GO GET MY BOY BACK HOME. EVERYONE’S WWAAAAIIITTIIIINNNNGGG FOR HIM” before Polites could even open his mouth. The entire verse would literally just be harmonizing the Waiting motif.

Astyanax: it’s a baby.

I’m actually so tempted to write the song or a fanfic about this, bestie you’re a fucking genius I hope you understand that

if anybody has any ideas or points, please please share them!!! This is such a cool concept

[lostintransist]

Secrets Are For Grown Ups | Part 6

Part 1 can be found here. AO3

Shout out to @xbirdiex

Saturday moved with ease, John and Nyla joined you in taking the boys to the planetarium and lunch before dropping by the park for the regularly scheduled play date with other neighborhood kids.

Nyla stretched upon climbing out of your van. The ride from downtown to the park closest to your house had taken much longer than expected. There were several accidents on the freeway that delayed you by nearly an hour.

“I’ll be taken myself on a walk, you youngin’s watch the bairns.” With that, she strode with purpose on the path that circled the park.

The boys released themselves from their seats and took off screaming like only a seven-year-old can. Sharing a look with John you grab your park blanket from the back before locking the van.

John rubbed the back of his neck; he had been stuck in the back with the boys who talked the entirety of the car ride.

“They sure do have a lot of energy.”

Laughing you lead the way to a relatively flat spot of grass and lay out your blanket.

“They sure do. If you can believe it this is less energy than they used to have.”

Aghast John stares at you deep concern etched between his brows. It triggered a whole ‘nother round of laughter. Wiping your eyes free of the joyful tears you go on to explain.

“Toddlers have more energy but fewer words and are arguably much harder to care for. They are attracted to death, finding things that can kill them everywhere.”

“How did you manage?” He glances from you to the children crawling over the park equipment like ants over a corpse.

“Larsen mostly.” You smile softly thinking of your best friend.

John leans back on his hands, crossing his feet at the ankles.

“Tell me about him?”

“Larsen?” You question, surprised.

“Mom!” Mac comes racing up to you, “There is a kid that is throwing bark at people.”

“Okay, is he still doing it or did his grown-up take care of the problem?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, so it sounds like it has been taken care of right?” You lift a brow in conjunction with your question.

“Yeah,” Mac nods once before taking off at the same speed he arrived.

Blowing out a breath you glance to John and roll your eyes about your child’s antics.

“What do you want to know about Larsen?”

“Let’s start at the beginning, how did you meet?”

You can’t help the smile that blooms across your face.

“We met in second grade, about the same age the boys are now. We became the best of friends and were thick as thieves. Larsen lived outside the boundaries of our school but his parents used one of his grandparent’s addresses to get him into a ‘better school’.” You roll your eyes at that but continue. “We stayed friends all through school. He was my best friend. So many people in high school thought we were dating. Made it so hard to get a boyfriend.”

John laughed at the bitter cast to your voice. “Seems like it turned out well for you though.”

Canting your head side to side you decide how to explain.

“Larsen didn’t like the idea of romantic love; never had a partner because of it. When I got the news I was pregnant he was my first call.” You chuckle at the memory now, “I told him everything that had happened and you know what my best friend did? He offered to marry me over the phone.”

You pause your tale to yell at Jace to get down, the outside of the equipment is not meant for playing.

Picking up the story where you had left it you continue, “I said yes, obviously. He was the best partner I could have asked for. You are staying in his old room actually. We didn’t have a conventional marriage but he loved the boys fiercely; said he would be their father before anything else in his life. Damn man nearly passed out during delivery though.���

The memory still makes you smile, both your mom and Larsen’s had come to help with delivery. He didn’t even hold a leg as you pushed out the boys but one glance at your nether regions and the blood gushing from your vagina had him pale and had his mom shoving him into a chair with a ‘you are not going to pass out, we are all busy right now.’ The midwife team had laughed at that with you as you laughed out Jace. Mac had already been whisked away to get cleaned up.

“He sounds like a good man, the boys talk about him sometimes,” John is contemplative in his tone.

You curl your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your chin down too.

“His death shocked us all. He had an aneurysm at work, gone before the paramedics arrived.”

“Not a bad way to go all things considered,” John mused aloud.

“Noah MacTavish! Get down now!” Mac makes a guilty face as he is caught scaling the play structure. “No, it could have been worse. He left us with a healthy chunk of life insurance and because he passed at work we got all the life insurance money from that fiasco. I paid off the house and invested the rest. I opened my cake decorating business within a few months of his passing to pay for our daily expenses, got all three of us in therapy, and then the boys started Kindergarten soon after. Larsen’s mom, Crystal, and my mom both stepped up in amazing ways.”

John is looking at you when you glance his way, the depth in his gaze sends shivers across your skin. The last time you had seen that look on his face had been in the weeks you were avoiding Simon on base. A deep contemplation as he mulled over his thoughts, you thought even then that it made him more attractive than should be reasonable.

Turning back to watch the boys you finish your thought.

“They both take the boys one day a week for a few hours so I have time to clean house or make deliveries or go to the doctor without an entourage.”

“Now Nyla is here and hopefully soon they will have more people to share the load,” John whistled, the sharp sound had both boys stopping their poor choices.

Speaking of Nyla caused her appearance avoiding the need for you to reply that you didn’t know if Simon and Johnny would want to be involved.

The boys played for a while longer before the three adults hustled them into the car and home for dinner.

Sunday morning saw you waking early with the boys, feeding them before sending them off to play in the backyard. Nyla and John were both able to sleep later than the six am wake-up you had.

Nearing nine am, Jace tore in through the back door as you work on the cake due today. He is holding his groin, a face of slight panic as he busts into the downstairs bathroom. You don’t remember the problem with him using that toilet until John’s startled voice sounds from the open door.

“Hello?”

“I have to go potty,” comes Jace’s quick reply.

“Ah.”

“Does your penis ever get stuck in your clothes?”

Oh no, now they are having a shower conversation. All of your focus is on the sounds drifting from the now-open door.

“Sometimes it does kiddo.”

Fuck. How do you deal with this? Jace will be done soon and John should have locked the door.

“Huh. Okay.” The toilet lid slams and you can hear Jace washing his hands before he reappears to go back to playing.

Now the question is, do you flush the toilet and shut the door? Yes. John deserved to shower in peace. As you reach the door you announce yourself.

“Don’t mind me, I am just going to take care of the step Jace missed.”

“Thanks, dove,” John’s voice drifts down over the shower curtain and you stop yourself from imagining anything that might join that thought.

“I am also going to lock the door so Mac doesn’t do the same thing to you.” Flushing the toilet you step back out of the room. John laughs as you lock the door and pull it shut tight.

Turning you find Nyla looking at you all concerned. By way of explanation, you say, “Jace busted in on John.”

She laughs with you at the absurdity of the situation and follows you back into the kitchen as you wash your hands and prepare to keep decorating a cake for a teenage birthday order. Their parent would be coming by in two hours for their delivery.

“I am going to visit with my boys.”

Your stomach tightened painfully at those words. The small smile you give her doesn’t mask the tension in your body. She pulls you into a motherly side hug, touching her head to yours before wandering from the kitchen. The front door opens and closes in near tandem with John stepping from the bathroom.

Fully clothed, steam billows around him as he shoves a bundle of clothes under one arm.

“That cake is the ugliest set of colors I have ever seen,” his brows nearly touch as he stares at the orange monstrosity sitting atop your counter.

“Oh I know but it’s only going to get worse,” you grab another container filled with your homemade frosting and begin to whip in a pale mint color.

“Worse?” John moves into the kitchen and around the counter to look down into the bowl you are using your hand mixer on. “Is that some kind of green?”

“Mint, but yes. Kid is turning thirteen and their two favorite colors are orange and mint. Mom wanted to combine both on the cake. Sent me reference photos and everything.” Turning off the hand mixer you set it to the side and ready your piping bag for a transfer. “Any fun plans today?”

John moves back around the kitchen island and settles both himself and his bundle of clothes onto a chair.

“I have a few stops I need to make but then will be back around lunch.” He is watching you as you spin your piping bag and start to drape strings of mint icing along the edge of the cake.

“Okay my mom will be here soon for the boys,” you glance at John as you tell him why, “She likes to take them to church.”

He pulls a face as he mutters, “Lovely.”

“I feel the same but if it keeps the peace and means she will take them on a weeknight too, I will allow it for now. I will probably use the time they are gone to deep clean the house before Simon and Johnny come over tomorrow.”

A scream from the backyard has you checking out the kitchen window to confirm no broken bones or blood, finding none you shift back to what you are doing.

“Do you clean because you’re stressed or because they are going to see more than the front room?” John lightly tapped his fingers against the counter, the sound barely traveling to your ears.

Sticking your tongue out in lieu of an answer John laughs. He rises as the knock sounds at the front door. Your mother comes in and chats with you a moment before collecting your boys who both give you a hug and a kiss before trailing out the door after grandma. John pokes his head into the kitchen to let you know he is leaving. And then you are alone.

Blasting music through the house you finish decorating, send a text to your client that she can pick up the cake any time before two pm, and set about cleaning the house. When Nyla reappears she jumps in by stripping all of the beds and starting the wash. By the time the boys and John appeared the house looked cleaner than it had been for Larsen’s wake. The scent of cleaning chemicals masked with lemon could be smelled in every room in the house.

Your pickup happens neatly at one, the mother gushing that the cake matches the vision and her kid is going to be so pleased. Nyla made sandwiches while you had finished cleaning the last bathroom. Sitting down at the table John announced that he would be sending both you and Nyla to a movie and then dinner.

“Are you sure you want to handle the boys?” They both grin up at you like innocent devils.

“We will have fun, won’t we boys?” John winks at them as they cheer.

At Nyla’s shrug, you accept the offer. A quick shower for yourself and the two of you were out the door, giggling at the thought of John managing the boys. The movie was your choice followed by Nyla’s pick of restaurant. Darkness had fallen by the time you both made your way through the garage and into the TV room.

Flung across the couch were three sleeping bodies. Jace slept sitting up against John. Mac rested his head against John’s thigh. John sat upright, head notched over the top of the couch and hands still gripping the controller for the game console that showed they had died again while playing Minecraft.

You lifted Jace first, fighting your way up the stairs with his body koala tight to you. Settling him in bed you turn and find a squinting John stepping into the room Mac wrapped around him. He settles your boy down with a gentle touch and even covers him to the chin with his blankets.

Waiting at the door, you pull it closed after John has slipped from the room.

“How were they tonight?” You whisper in the dark hallway.

“Good, we played board games, hide and seek, read some books, ate dinner, and then fell asleep playing video games.” His tone is even, steady beyond the sleep in his voice.

“Thanks for keeping them tonight John, it was nice to go out with Nyla.”

You can’t see what he does but his fingers find yours for one squeeze.

“They are good boys. I am happy to spend time with them and give you more time to get to know their grandmother,” he whispers back to you.

Tightening your fingers on his you fight the warm ball growing in your chest.

“Goodnight John.”

“Goodnight dove.”

Part 7

A/N: The next chapter is The Talk™ 😬

Secrets Masterlist | Masterlist

@love-kha1 @sweetlike-sugarplum @vmaxis @splaterparty0-0 @momowhoo @talia-the-gemini @redkarmakai @aethelwyneleigh27 @asexualbuthorny @sleep101 @callsignbumblebee @lucienofthelakes

[hana-no-seiiki]

I’ve been stuck on this idea. Jinx reader with the batfam…I know you had it in your master list and I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Maybe when the reader was little, they doodled and made little trinkets like powder. So I’m thinking that the reader doodled on batmans tools. Kinda like how powder/jinx made their weapons with faces on them.

So maybe Batman and the rest of the boys were gone and reader snuck into the bar cave and started doodling on their masks and weapons.

And just another thought 😅

When reader is older, they become a vigilante, causing chaos for the fun of it but also doing it for good. They also move out when they were a kid, because maybe Batman called then a jinx (I’m really going for the arcane storyline 😭😭😭)

Maybe the batfam tries to bring her back, but she just kinda runs away laughing while throwing glitter bombs 😭😭😭

Just something I thought of

I don’t usually write reader as childhood friends with the guys here unless it’s cat villain (which is more like childhood rivals) so this is quite the change.

In my og storyline which i have semi spoiled and will spoil some more here : Jason and Jinx! Reader were part of a found family and Jason having a massive crush on reader gave them tools to make explosives they really shouldnt have. Which is kind of poetic knowing how he ‘dies’.

I’m not sure if this ask is platonic or romantic so I’ll just go with my preference, the latter.

this is just a little snippet since i started working on jinx reader again huhu wanna save the juicy stuff for that one

Jinx! Reader was known as the runt of the litter among Bruce’s adopted children. Physically weak, above average in smarts but nothing compared to the rest. The only thing they had going for them was their skill with firearms which Bruce heavily discouraged and admonished the practice of.

Jason and you bonded with rebelling against him. He’d often bring you out to abandoned arcades that you two would repair from scraps you found in the Batcave. Dude was down atrocious. He kept bringing you to missions purely because he couldn’t resist your face. Sure he was snarky at times, but your common upbringing made him more soft around you. (Sometimes he purposely puts you in situations where you’d get caught just so he can ‘save’ you. The way you hold unto him for dear life is…simply exhilarating)

But try as he might, he could never fill the hole you had in your heart. Your desire for a complete family. For validation. For Bruce to finally acknowledge your worth. For Damian to stop calling you a fucking waste of space.

You ended up screwing a mission so badly that you indirectly killed dozens of Gotham citizens.

Usually you would just compromise their positions during patrols but this was… this was something irreversible. Something that affected friends, families, actual living breathing people.

Bruce had a tight cap on his emotions, but he just couldn’t stop himself from taking out his anger, grief and frustration out on you.

Dick and Jason managed to pull him back before he could hurt you beyond a punch to the face, but the psychological damage had already been cemented.

You run away, running into Harley Quinn.

But instead of following the path my og jinx reader did, Joker wasn’t there to fuck with your head even further. So you sought to repay for your sins.

Still, the screams. The way Bruce called you useless, a jinx. The memories of being neglected and inferior.

Sometimes chaos was the only way to make it shut up.

[mrsharrington83]

Code Blue

Summary; The aftermath leaves Y/N second guessing everything in her life. Losing friends and witnessing her boyfriend of two years getting closer to his ex is enough to push her over the edge. Will they be able to pull themselves out of this hole that’s darker than the Upside Down itself? (For the sake of this fic, what happened at the end of the last episode of season 4 hasn’t yet happened)

Warnings; usual Stranger Things, things. Swearing, blood, injury, alcohol consumption, mentions of death and suicidal thoughts. If any of this is triggering, please don’t read.

A/N; I haven’t written anything in so long! It’s a long fic! 6.5K words, my longest on here yet. I apologise if this is bad, I’ve just been in a writing mood so thought I’d let out a lot of angst and fluff (we love it) I am a British writer (England) so sorry if things don’t make sense to you! Thank you for stopping by, hopefully my writing streak stays strong. Requests are always open. Love to all xoxo

The aftermath of the supposed earthquake had everyone second guessing. Some people left, other people were packing to leave. Having known what really went down, you sat in silence staring into your vanity mirror as everyone else you knew went to help the community at Hawkins High.

You just couldn’t stomach it. Cuts and grazes over your skin, tiredness evident in your eyes, your hair still clumped with dirt from the Upside Down, dried blood. You hadn’t even showered yet. You didn’t know how to process anything that had happened over the past 72 hours. You were accustomed to this kind of thing having it been a big part of your life for the past few years, the most recent battle however, took the biscuit.

Small Polaroid pictures littered around the back wall of your desk. Smiles, memories, better times. Max and Dustin when she stole his cap. They were in mid laugh so it was blurred a bit, but a happy memory that was stuck in time. That same Max was now in hospital, fractured bones, blind, unresponsive. Not laughing and joking with her friends, not happy, not anything. Doctors didn’t know if she’d ever wake. She was such a selfless soul, way beyond her years, but still so young. Too young. You all were.

Pictures of the group, you and your boyfriend Steve. A picture of you and Eddie during a D&D game. His hair all over the place, tongue sticking out, you laughing, Dustin in the background pulling a stupid face.

Memories.

Eddie.

Your best friend.

Gone.

Just like that.

He didn’t run this time, and fuck. You really wished he did.

The tick of your small clock dragged you away from the pictures, the light ticking mocking you, “shut up! Shut the fuck up!” you screamed from deep in your lungs, a howl so painful from your chest, putting what was left of your strength and upset from the past few weeks into knocking the blasted thing to the floor, hearing the glass and mechanics hit the floor in one swoop. It was a gift from Eddie one Christmas as you were pretty much always late. Bittersweet.

Guilt built in your stomach as you stood up fast, pushing your stool back with your legs, failing to the floor, cupping the bits of broken glass as sobs wracked your body, not realising your hands were clenched around the shards, the all too familiar claret running through the lines in your palm and down your fingers, dripping into a pool on the wooden flooring of the bedroom.

Your breathing hitched as you remembered Eddie die in your arms, the way blood trickled from his mouth. The look of pure terror on his face. He knew he was dying, but he kept it together till the very end for the sake of you and Dustin. His best friends, the people that were there for him no matter what everyone else was saying. You didn’t want to believe it. Dustin’s screams and sobs as the light left his eyes. You saw them gloss over. The way you both shook him, screamed into his ear, telling him not to leave you both behind. Your hands covered in blood. His blood.

Dropping the bits of glass on the floor, you pushed your feet and newly cut hands against the floor, the small slitters of glass that were still on your palm slicing deeper into your flesh until your back met the wall, your hands and body shaking, the tightness in your chest getting worse and you struggled to fill your lungs with air. You felt like you were about to pass out.

The past 72 hours had been, by far, the worst time of your life. You’d witnessed what you thought was your boyfriend of two years get closer to his ex, eyes can be deceiving, but there was something in his own eyes that glimmered whenever he spoke to Nancy, deep down you always wondered what Steve saw in you. Maybe you were just a knock off version of Nancy. Someone to keep him grounded in all of this. A warm body to forget all the wrongdoing in the world. Someone he knew cared about him. Perhaps more than he cared for you. You didn’t know that of course, it was just what your mind was telling you.

Your best friend had died for a town that hated him, Max, the girl who had adopted you as a cooler older sister after Billie died was lying in a hospital bed with the looming same fate, Vecna was still out there somewhere and you were sure there was even more danger on the horizon.

Even after everything that happened, your mum hadn’t bothered coming home. She was always away with her new man for weeks on end. She had called up one night before the phone lines cut out to make sure the house was still standing after witnessing the news, but other than that all you got was, ‘with everything that’s happened in Hawkins, I’m going to stay with carl for another few weeks, maybe more. Be careful out there.’”

You’d never felt more alone. You didn’t blame your friends or Steve. They wanted to help out, of course they did. You did too, but you were in no way the right frame of mind to be seeing people crying for their loved ones, talking to people that had lost others whilst you were reeling from losing your own.

You pulled yourself off the floor with great difficulty. It felt like you had a ton of bricks weighed down on you. Metaphorically speaking, you did. Though it wasn’t bricks, it was the weight of hurt and anger, of death piling up one by one. “Get yourself together Y/N. get your fucking self together.” Rummaging through your dresser, careful not to get blood on everything, you pulled out some comfortable lounge clothes that were bigger in size, purposely avoiding one of Steve’s t-shirts as you dragged yourself to the bathroom.

Putting down the toilet seat, you placed your clothes and rinsed your hands under the cold tap. Water on open cuts made you wince, but at least you felt something other than emotional pain. Watching your fresh blood mix with water and into the sink like a mini whirlpool was almost mesmerising. Picking out the last few shards of glass making the water redder with each bit. You were lucky water was still running. There were some parts of Hawkins that had no water.

Turning the dial on the shower you undressed. Peeling your clothes from your skin. Clothes you wouldn’t bother to wash. They would go straight in the bin. You had enough awful reminders on that night, you didn’t need more. Stepping into the shower, careful not to slip, you submerged yourself in warm, running water and closed your eyes, feeling old blood, mud and debris leave your tired body.

Steve had come home early, with both of your parents almost always being away you basically lived with each other. When your mum was away, he’d stay with you and if his parents were away, you’d stay with him. He had his own keys to your place, and you had your own to his.

Steve kicked his shoes off in the hallway, tiredness in his bones. The house was silent apart from the sound of water from the shower, you were at least out of bed. When Steve left this morning you were curled up in a ball with covers over your head, blocking out the world. He leant down and burrowed his head in your blankets kissing the top of your head, saying how much he loved you and that he’d be back as soon as he’d helped out in Hawkins High, with a running car it was easier for him to pick up robin and bundle Dustin, Will and Mike in the back of along with all the supplies, it was a squeeze, but not a long drive and with everything that had happened, the kids didn’t mind being on top of each other, breathing, alive. In truth, Steve didn’t want to get out of bed either. His temples ached, his bones felt heavy and the wounds he had were still throbbing, not letting him forget about the events.

He sighed and flopped onto the sofa, leaning his head back hoping to get the knots out of the muscles in his neck, tension. He didn’t want to disturb you in the shower, even though all he wanted to do was bury his face in your hair, your skin, breathe in the only place he felt safe, the only thing that made sense to him. Seeing everyone at Hawkins High, the missing persons post filled with faces he knew, faces he didn’t, the heartbreak of all of Hawkins. All he wanted was you, but instead he just sat there.

You pressed your head against the cool tiles in the bathroom as you turned off the shower, the familiar car engine shutting off in the drive, you knew Steve was back, yet you didn’t think you could see him face to face yet. You breathed out heavily and stepped out of the shower pulling a towel from the back of the door, wrapping it around yourself and another for your hair. Red staining the white cotton as you’d opened old wounds as well as your still bleeding palms that stung. You bent down to get the first aid kit from under the sink as you got to work on your wounds. You at least looked cleaner, your split lip and eyebrow not looking as bad now you’d washed, half of these injuries you didn’t even know when you’d got them, from fighting demobats to being thrown across the floor by Eddie when you tried to help, bruises from being pulled away from your friend as his lifeless body lay motionless, wounds from yourself from hitting the wall in desperation. You looked how you felt. Completely broken. You wrapped bandages around your hands and left it at that. Drying off and throwing oversized clothes on, you reached for the door handle, your hand visibly shaking.

Going back into your room you sighed at the mess. Somewhat thankful that Steve had stayed downstairs. Glass and blood everywhere. You grabbed a dustpan and a brush from a small closet next to the bathroom as well as the small towel you used for your hair, sweeping up the small shards of glass and discarding them in a small bin next to your bed. Wiping the claret up with the small towel and putting that in the bin too. You sat on the end of your bed once again staring at the pictures behind your vanity desk.

“Y/N?” Steve called up the stairs noting that the shower had been turned off for a while, worry lacing his voice. You could hear it.

“Yeah, I’m coming down.” You stood up and dragged yourself to the top of the landing. You could just throw yourself down the stairs and hope for the best. Hope you’d have an ounce of peace from your racing mind, but you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t bring yourself to take yourself over that edge, to make the people that cared about you lose another. You’d all lost too much. Begrudgingly you walked down the stairs, the illuminating light from the sun almost blinding you, you’d been living in darkness for the past few days, being in the Upside Down and then closing all the curtains upstairs as soon as you’d got back home. You’d almost forgotten how bright daylight could be.

Steve was waiting in the kitchen for you, his eyes visibly glowing when you walked into the room, as though you lit up the small space when you stepped in. A smile tugged on your lips that suddenly dropped when you remembered he was looking at Nancy exactly the same not too long ago. The same nagging thoughts you had earlier pulling you back. Knock off version of Nancy. Now that Johnathan was back, of course he came running back to you. Steve looked down to your hands and frowned, he didn’t remember you hurting your hands so much they needed bandaging,

“Sweetheart? What happened?” Steve was by your side in an instant his hands gently over yours as he inspects the bandages,

“I dropped some glass, not a big deal. Just got a little cut up in the process of cleaning it up.” You lied through your teeth, you couldn’t be bothered to talk about Eddie again and how you’d broken the last gift he would ever give to you out of anger. Steve continued to look at your hands, careful not to disturb the bandages around them,

“Do you want me to have a look? I can bandage these a bit better for you, make sure there’s no glass and...” you cut him off with a, ‘I’m fine.’ And pulled your hands away from his warmth, Steve looked a little deflated, but understood. All of you had patched each other up countless times that it was almost routine now, you’d learnt how to stitch wounds, what ointments and antiseptics to use, you basically had a mini pharmacy under your sink for things that people would never believe.

“Honestly, I’m fine Steve.” You forced a smile and went round the Kitchen Island feeling his eyes burning through you. Your house wasn’t the biggest, it was snug. The kitchen was weirdly one of the bigger rooms and probably the nicest, it was one of the only rooms your mum put any effort into before she started gallivanting around the globe. It was bright with several flowers littering the windowsills, yellow lace curtains to match some of the décor. How the flowers hadn’t died yet, you didn’t know. You never watered them.

You and the rest of the group had spent ample time in this kitchen cooking cookies and brownies for movie night, Max and Lucas always managing to burn popcorn, Steve rushing to open windows and flail a tea towel at the fire alarm to stop it beeping whilst Robin was toppling over laughing at Dustin with brownie mix all over his mouth, You’d also spent ample time in here with the older lot of the group, your mum had quite the alcohol stash. Probably enough to open a bar downtown. From several different bottles of vodka, gin, whiskey to wine, beer, cider and god knows what other potent liquid that did the job, which is exactly what you were heading for now.

Steve was slumped against one of the dining chairs as he watched you move around the island, he knew exactly what cabinet you were riffling through, “Ahhh, there it is.” You picked out an unopened bottle of vodka and put it on the side as you went through a different cupboard to pick out a decent glass.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Steve sighed as he watched your every move, “I know things aren’t great at the minute, but we really need to pull together.” You opened the vodka and poured a small glass, turning around and leaning against the counter with your ankles crossed, the glass of vodka in your hand. You shrugged and took a gulp, the burning from the alcohol igniting your insides.

“Look, sweetheart, please.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, the lack of product evident, no one ever saw Steve walking around with no product in his hair, probably because without it, it was so fluffy and never sat in the right place according to him, “this isn’t the answer, that isn’t going to help. It’s not going to bring...”

“Shut up!” you screeched, smashing the glass back onto the counter, thankfully not breaking it, “you think I don’t know that, Steve? For goodness sake! How stupid do you think I am?!” Steve is taken aback, he’s over stepped a line and he knows it, “I know it’s not going to bring Eddie back it’s not going to stop what’s going on here,” you look around the room, “it’s not going to stop Max from being in hospital, it’s not going to stop those poor kids dreaming about what happened over and over again, how fucked they’re going to be in years’ time if they even make it that far, from losing countless people and battling these things over and over again, but maybe, just maybe it will stop my racing thoughts, the hurt, the anger, the resentment I have for this stupid fucking town for five goddamn minutes, okay?! everything is falling apart at the seams, we’ve all lost so much, I even thought you were getting cosy with Nancy again!” you bite your tongue getting caught up in the rift, Steve looked towards you bewildered. You turn back to the vodka bottle, filling your glass halfway, drinking it down like water and filling it up again, “I’m not asking you to understand Steve, I’m not even asking you to deal with this, you know where the fucking door is.”

Steve stood up from the table and walked over to you slowly, turning you to face him, moving the hair that had fallen so effortlessly over your features, “I love you Y/N, whatever you thought you saw between me and Nancy was not that. I’m happy for her and Johnathan, really. I’m so glad were now with the right people, the people who ground us and make this stupid crazy life worth living, you’re my muse. I would never do that to you, sweetheart. Not ever,” moving his hands over your covered arms, to your hands, holding them gently in his, “I’m not going anywhere Y/N, just please, I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t.”

You looked Steve dead in the eyes, his glassed over, tears threatening to fall. The beautiful honey eyes you’d got lost in time and time again, “Maybe you already have.” His hands let go of yours as he visibly slumped, and took a step back, you might as well have been holding a gun, a bullet to his chest with the way he was looking at you. Turning your back to him, your own tears threatening to fall, you grabbed the bottle again unscrewing the cap, pouring yourself another glass.

“What do you mean?” Steve is silent again, his presence still behind you, feelings of uncertainty heavy in the air, “Y/N, look at me please...” the defeat in his voice made you feel awful, this was your boyfriend of two years, the person that had stayed by your side that whole time, through everything. The good times and the bad, the way you both laughed, the random dates he took you on, sometimes even after work, some of which ended up being group outings as one of the kids had seen you both and then got on the walkie talkies as quickly as possible, they ended up calling that ‘code blue’ as the first time it happened Steve was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, the movie nights, the late night talks, walks, your safety net, the countless jokes that weren’t even funny. Helping him with his hair, the days he was sick and you’d take care of him, and the days he would do exactly the same back for you. He never faltered, he was always brave, always stayed strong for you, for everyone, but here he was, seconds away from breaking down. A painful ache in his voice that cut you in half, the same ache breaking the last pieces of your heart that were still intact, you wiped your tears away with the back of your sweater, turning around to see Steve once more, pain drowning his features,

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do this anymore.” he sucked in a shaky breath as a sob broke from his lips. Pain. Pain that you had caused. You finished your glass of vodka, keeping your back to Steve, you couldn’t watch him break, you couldn’t see the sadness and heartache on his face. As if he hadn’t been through enough recently,

“Y/N, please,” his voice was low, strained, as though he was bleeding out on the spot behind you, “don’t do this, we can get through this, we can get through anything, please just don’t...” you turned round to Steve his eyes visibly blood shot probably from tiredness and the tears that were free flowing down his cheeks,

“I’m sorry Steve.” You walked past him, a slight sway to your walk from too much alcohol in a short space of time on an empty stomach as you tackled the stairs, all you wanted to do was sleep, before you even got half way up the stairs you heard the front door close causing you to stop on the spot, your own sobs now tearing way through your body, this pain was tearing you apart, so much loss, but you had caused this last one.

You found yourself sitting on the end of your bed looking at the pictures behind your desk once again, would you ever feel that kind of happiness again or was this the new norm? A burning hole in the middle of your chest that was once whole and pushed together in the shape of the people you loved. All of those memories seemed like a lifetime ago, how time and life could be fleeting, oh how you took it all for granted.

***

Two weeks had passed.

Two long weeks.

Probably the longest two weeks of your life.

In those two weeks you’d had almost everyone knock on your door, mainly Robin and Dustin, “Y/N, open this door right now or I promise you I’ll put a brick through your window and climb in there myself.” Dustin shouted as he looked through the small glass patterns on the front door for signs of movement, “I’m not joking Y/N.” Dustin looked around your drive and picked up half a brick, “ten seconds, Y/N!” finally he saw movement and put the brick down on the grass, you opened the door and huffed,

“Dustin, every day for two weeks, ae you not bored yet?” He pushed you aside gently and kicked his shoes off before throwing himself onto the sofa and turning on the small TV as if he lived there, “and how can I be of assistance today?” you stood in the doorway of the living room, you no longer had the bandages on your hands, the cuts on your hands were hardly visible now, your other physical injuries were also doing much better, some might not even scar, not that you cared about a bit of scarring,

“You look like shit,” Dustin looked back at you and scoffed, he wasn’t wrong, you’d been wearing the same kind of clothes for two weeks, anything you could get your hands on. Mix matched sweats and sweaters, sometimes Steve’s t-shirts, on a very rare occasion you treated yourself by wearing a pair of jeans. Your usual full of life hair was lifeless and scraggly from the lack of brushing, your eyes blood shot from lack of sleep, red lips from gnawing at them constantly,

“Well, love you too, Dustin,” you rolled your eyes and went to the kitchen fetching juice and cookies on a tray, “so what is it today?” Dustin cleared his throat and made his way into the kitchen, taking a few cookies off the tray as he took a seat around the table drinking juice you’d bought specially for him,

“It’s Steve,” your breathing hitched as you looked to the floor, biting at your already raw lips, you pulled a second chair out and sat opposite Dustin, taking your own cookie and nibbling at it. You hadn’t eaten well for two weeks now,

“What about him?” you took a swig of your own juice and sit looking towards your younger friend,

“Don’t give me that, Y/N. I know you still care, Robin tells me things, y’know, and you’re not someone that doesn’t care about people,” Dustin shook his head, “this act is bullshit, Y/N. Steve is over there wondering what he did wrong, what he can do to help you, he’s broken, Y/N and none of us can get through to him, ne needs you and you need him and we need you both. We need our kick ass non babysitters back. We need to stick together. We can’t all break otherwise what do we have?” you bit the inside of your cheek letting Dustin talk, you had been unfair, everything in this world was so wrong and you were breaking the only good thing in it,

“I’m scared, Dusty,” you looked to him and he nodded, not wasting time to eat more cookies, all the kids loved your cookies,

“We all are, Y/N. you know this isn’t over right?” you looked down knowingly and started to play with the patterned table cover, “Steve needs you, I need you, we all need you. You know Eddie wouldn’t want this right?” you breathed deeply at the mention of his name, “you’re the bravest person he knew, he told me, and do you know what else?” you looked up from the table, “he loved you and Steve together, he saw how happy he made you and that’s what he wanted for you. He wanted you to be happy.” You sighed, breath shaky as a tear fell from your lashes onto the tablecloth you were playing with moments before,

“Well he got one thing wrong, he was the bravest.” Dustin put his hand over yours and gave it a light squeeze,

“Please just come and see Steve? Everyone is round there trying to cheer him up and he looks just as shit as you, if not more. If you don’t come with me, the others are going to try one by one, I’m the nicer one.” He stood up from the table, hopeful,

“Dustin I can’t,” disappointment clouded his eyes, “I can’t go over there empty handed, help me make some cookies?” the usual toothy grin from Dustin was back, one you hadn’t seen for a such a long time, one that made your heart swell. You loved those kids so much and you’d do anything to protect them, you felt bad for wallowing in in your own self-pity when everyone you cared about was going through the exact same thing as you. You’d nearly lost the one thing that made sense and you were going to try and not let that slip any further. You and Dustin got to work on the cookies, not failing to get flour all over the surface and yourselves. Once the cookies were in the oven and cooking, you looked over to Dustin, “Keep an eye on the cookies for me? I’m going to try and sort this out a bit,” you pointed to your mop of a hair as he grinned and nodded, picking up his walkie as you left the room,

“Guys, it’s Dustin, over.” He waited for the usual static of the walkie patiently as he pressed more buttons hoping to hear from the others,

“Hearing you loud and clear, Dustin, what’s the status, over.” Mike was on the other end, uncertainty in his voice, but hugged by hope, Will, El and even Lucas in the background hugging over the other walkie talkie hoping for a shred of good news. Max was still in hospital, though in good hands. There was hope that she’d still wake up, she was strong and a fighter. Lucas sat by her bedside every chance he got, but he too needed fresh air sometimes, to see his friends. Being cooped up waiting for someone to wake up wouldn’t do anyone any good if it was constant. Same four walls day in, day out. It took some time for him to realise that however.

“Guys, we have ourselves a code blue. Over.” Dustin chimed excitedly as the rest of the youngsters screamed in joy, they were out of ear shot from Steve and Robin, all around the pool as it was such a lovely day in Hawkins, warm with a light breeze hitting the trees and pool every now and then causing small ripples, birds still chirping. Even amidst all the uncertainty and heartache, life could be beautiful.

You looked into the mirror having put a little bit of makeup on, an extreme rarity for you with everything that had gone on the past few years, you’d finally put a brush through your washed hair and changed into something more you, high waisted jeans, a black t-shirt and a light denim jacket you could take off if you wanted, you felt the warmth through the bathroom window as you looked at yourself in the mirror once more, “presentable.” You could smell cookies downstairs signalling Dustin had kept to his word and kept an eye on then, not letting them burn. You hurried down the stairs with a skip to your step and twirled to Dustin who was standing in the hall with a cookie jar in hand, ready to pack them once they’d cooled a little,

“There’s the Y/N I know! Yes!” Dustin fist bumped the air with his free hand wishing the cookies would cool down faster. You gathered your shoes and a small bag to put your keys and anything else you needed in,

“what if he doesn’t want to see me?,” you stopped in your tracks, looking at Dustin unsure, “what if I’ve hurt him too much and he never wants to see me again?” you play with the hem of your denim jacket, backtracking, wondering if this was a good idea after all,

“you’re the only person he wants to see, Y/N. we just invite ourselves in and he’s too nice to tell us to get out,” you shake your head,

“You know that isn’t true, he loves you guys as much as I do, even if he’s in the worst mood possible, he’d always rather have you guys around, you know that,” Dustin nodded, putting the cooler cookies into the jar sealing them tightly, “did you bike over here?” you questioned as Dustin shook his head,

“I didn’t,” he grinned and dug his hand in his back pocket, pulling Steve’s car keys out and waving them in your face, “he doesn’t know, obviously,” Dustin shrugged as you shook your head and put your head in your hand laughing in disbelief, a real laugh, something you forgot you could do,

“Dustin! You could have caused an accident!” you tried to sound serious over your laughing that just wouldn’t stop,

“well, you don’t see many cars on the road these days after what happened, maybe people are too scared,” he shrugged once more, “not me, now. Let’s gooooo!” Dustin ran for the front door, cookies in hand, and his small backpack you didn’t realise he had draped over a shoulder,

“Ahhh. Not so fast, keys!” you extended your hand to Dustin, Steve absolutely loved that car, sometimes you wondered if he loved that car more than you and okay, Dustin got there safely, but now he was in your care he wouldn’t be driving that thing,

“Spoil sport,” he ginned as he handed you the keys stepping out into the outside. You took a deep breath. The smell of the outside you hadn’t seen in weeks. The light breeze through your hair the sun tingling against your skin, butterflies and birds, nature. Things you hasn’t stopped to look at for such a long time, “earth to Y/N,” you shook your head and walked towards the car, opening it for you both.

 You hadn’t driven in forever, was it something you could forget? Fastening your seatbelt, making sure Dustin did the same, starting the car and opening the windows, you pulled the sun visor down, a small Polaroid falling onto your lap. You turned it around to see a picture of you and Steve, your heart beating against your chest as you ran your finger over the photo. It was the first one you took together, before you were even official. Halloween 1984. That stupid party, the night Steve and Nancy broke up. You found Steve crying on the back step, you spent the rest of the night trying to cheer him up. One too many beers, weed and a stupid camera, “he kept it...” Dustin looked up at you as you put the photo in the dashboard opposite Dustin,

“Of course he did, he keeps everything,” you didn’t know that, you didn’t say anything further as you pulled off the drive, it wasn’t a long drive. It was actually an easy enough walk, you didn’t live far from Steve. The nights he would randomly turn up at your house and throw pebbles at the window even though no one else was in the house, small memories making you smile.

The drive was quiet, Dustin looking out the window the whole way there, your heart still hammering against your chest, would people be happy to see you, would they hate you, would things be the same, what the fuck were you going to say to Steve? Pulling onto his drive, things got too real, you heard laughter from the other younger people of the group outside as you locked up the car, Dustin rushing to the back gate with cookies, though before he could you were tackled by El, Mike, Will and Lucas, “Y/N OH MY GOD YOU’RE HERE!” mike exclaimed as you laughed with the kids, some of them sopping wet from the pool, of course they still loved you, “we all missed you so much, it’s so good to see you” you ruffled everyone’s hair, something you always used to do when they were younger, something you still hadn’t stopped, tears in your eyes, you smiled, for once they weren’t sad tears,

“I’ve missed you all so much, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I’m sorry I haven’t been stronger for you all.” They all hugged you tighter, understanding, when did they all grow up?

“we all understand,” Lucas looks at you empathetically, “Max would want us all together, so would Eddie,” you hugged them all just that little bit tighter as they lead you into the back gate, not much had changed in Steve’s back yard except the grass was unkempt, the pool still clean somehow, “we will let you talk to Steve now,” you took a deep breath and looked towards the back sliding doors Robin leaning against them smiling as she ran out to hug you,

“Oh praise the heavens you’re here, I cannot deal with him in there for one minute longer,” you looked towards robin apologetically and she shook her head, “none of that, Y/N. Go see him, bring our Steve back, yeah?” she smiled and sat next to the kids, stealing one of the cookies you made.

You made your way into the house, the house that had so many different memories, you kicked your shoes off and put them where you always do before poking your head into the living room, Steve’s back was towards you as he was staring at the TV something you guessed he’d been doing for the past couple weeks, a lot like you really. His hair was too dishevelled and free of product, but oh fuck did he look like home. “If you’re there to try get me outside in the pool again, Robin I swear to fuck I will change the locks on this house.” He signed defeated and tuned round, his pupils dilating, shock on his face, the evident bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, “Y/N?” he scrambled off the sofa as fast as he could, scared you were a figment of his imagination, “is... is it really you? You’re here...” he stood opposite, reaching out to you,

“Steve...” tears welled in your eyes, “I am so, so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you, I didn’t want what I said, I was so lost in my own mind,” he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, “please forgive me, I’m so sorry,” you pulled away to look at him, tears in his own eyes as he brushed your free falling ones away with his thumb, “I love you so much, I was so scared of losing you too that I fucked up and lost you anyway,” he pulled you back into him, the smell of cedar, bergamot and a slight hint of cigarette smoke, home.

“You didn’t lose me, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything,” he pulled you into him, lips crashing together, cola Popsicle and a small hint of your home cooked cookies that Dustin must have been bringing to him secretly. Everyone loved your cookies. He pulled away and smashed his lips against yours again over and over, the taste of salt now from both of your tears, small lazy kisses planted all over your mouth as he pulled away, your lips slightly swollen, his honey eyes full of life once more, he was never going to let you go. He pulled you flush with his body, your head resting against his chest, as he ran his fingers through your hair, “you’re my home, Y/N. Wherever you are. That’s home to me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, okay?” you kissed him again, your cherry chapstick smearing over both of your mouths,

“you’re my home too, Mr. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington,” you looked up to him, a smile on your face, no longer crying as you knocked your hip with his. The emptiness in your heart glazing over a little, the pieces of your broken heart slowly reconnecting, the feeling of life, love, family.

“Have you seen my hair right now?” he ran a hair though it, washed, but lifeless. “Give me a minute, yeah? Put a movie on.” He kissed you softly before sprinting out of the room. You sat on the sofa you’d sat on countless times as you went through old rentals that would probably never be returned as the video store was one of the places to be destroyed, you placed a VHS in the TV as Steve bounded down the stairs, his hair no longer lifeless and messy, but perfect. Your smile so big your jaw could dislocate, “better? The hair is back,” he grinned and jumped over you on the sofa, “Return of the Jedi? One of my favourites.” He pulled your legs over his lap, both of you draped over the sofa like nothing had changed, his hands caressing your knee, smiles not leaving either of your faces.

“GUYS, CODE BLUEEEE.” Dustin shouted from behind the sofa as everyone else bundled in, “and look at that, Farrah Fawcett spray,” Dustin grinned,

“That’s top secret, dude!” Steve shook his head, a genuine laugh falling from his mouth as everyone pulled blankets and cushions around themselves, your cookies in hand. A good old fashioned movie night, things were going to be okay, you looked over to Steve, his eyes glistening as he squeezed your leg. The people you chose as family, Robin in the corner of the room beaming for the both of you. Both of her best friends back together, where they belong. There was a long road ahead for all of you, but at least you’d always face these things together. You were all so much stronger together. A team. A family.

[angellettes]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 ➔ JACK CHAMPION

─ synopsis. reader is an actress and jack champion. She is playing the part of Ethan landry's girlfriend in scream VI and accomplice

─ notes. I'm not a big fan of how I wrote this it kinda sucks but I hope you guys like it ♡ genre/warnings.. none for this chapter just pure fluff!♡ my page is minors dni. this chapter is suitable for any age but minors are not welcome on my page for their own safety

You and Jack had been dating for 3 years, and unknowingly were both casted for Scream VI. You hadn't found out about both getting casted until you had to meet the cast members before shooting was set to start. Certainly the experience of being a couple and playing a couple in a literal horror movie was Certainly interesting.

you both were getting ready on set to start filming, as you had a conversation about how funny it was that you were unknowingly casted in the same movie and playing as a couple in the movie, and how funny it was. your character's name was Amira lynn. You quite liked your character. It was simple but not boring. Your character was supposed to be a fashion major, and you were also the accomplice of Ethan Landry. Your role was interesting, had a good smart, but kinda ditzy personality.

The first few days of shooting got a little boring because you were there in a lot of the movie. Your character was sort of like ethan's alibi. When Ethan wasn't around during an attack you had to vouch for him. As the characters got more suspicious of Ethan you guys had to make a little plan to get them off track, so you staged an attack by ghostface. The filming for your attack was thrilling and kind of fun, as it involved getting chased around, thrown into walls, and getting tackled several times. Next thing you knew your character was dead during the attack scene after Mindy accused Ethan. You getting killed got them off track.

You stuck around on set for the rest of the time until your last scene which would be the reveal. Your character was Ethan's accomplice, who would make calls, do occasional killing, and vouched for him if they got suspicious.

"now die a fucking virgin" Jenna seethes out as Jack's characters dies by getting stabbed in the throat. You scream out and run towards his "dead boddy and hold him "please don't leave" you sobbed out. Then your character dies by being shot in the back. You flop down on the ground next to jack, holding his hand, talking about how in another happier life you would've gotten away with the gruesome crimes you did, and would've graduated college and got married. Melissa walks up to you, shooting you in the head, and then your part is done.

At the premiere of the movie interviewers went wild and swarmed around you asking questions about you it felt to play the roles, and how was your reaction to the fans seeing you both in the same movie. You had know about the shipping mostly from fan edits of you both. And the reason why the public was shipping you is because they didn't know you and Jack were dating for 3 years. Tonight you guys were revealing it.

"How do you both feel about being shipped together by the fans?" the interviewer asks. You and Jack look at eachother with a grin. "Well funny thing is that me and Y/N have been dating for 3 years so I mean it kinda makes us feel giddy" Jack says with a confident look on his face as his arm is wrapped around your waist. All the interviewers had the most priceless reactions after the statement. Made you wonder how people on social media were gonna take it.

When you were on your way home, you checked Twitter and Instagram. You both were shocked to see people were calling you the hottest couple, and some made comments about the fact that you hid it for 3 years, but some weren't shocked because they kind of already had hints and figured it out.

Once you got home you and Jack felt so giddy about the things they said, as you got comfortable, making little comments about it, and laughing, as you held eachother. You both got in bed and immediately Javk pulled you right flush to him, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. It was nights like this after a busy day that felt the most euphoric. Holding eachother thinking about how you would go about the next day, and just having some cute pillow talk. You both decided to have a scream movie marathon as you fell asleep, feeling eachother's closeness and warmth against eachother. You were so happy to be with this amazing boy.

You both decided to go out the next morning, and get some things to eat, and go shopping, and just have a little day together in celebration of your reveal, and finishing the movie. As you got home there were a ton of notifications on your phone. You opened your phone to see, and saw a post of Twitter, saying " Jack Champion and Y/N L/N spotted today at ///", the post had several pictures of you and Jack walking. You called him over to see. and once he saw he laughed. You closed your phone and looked up at the tall, curly haired, giddy boy you lived with all your heart. He wrapped him arms around you and laid kisses on the crown of you head, and going down to your neck.

"On camera and off, we're always sweet as sugar, and I love that about us. I'm happy we don't have to hide anymore, baby. I love you with all my heart" Jack coos at you, his arms still wrapped around you leaning his head on yours. You sigh in contentment and entangle your fingers with his. "I'm so glad we don't have to hide anymore either. I love you with all my heart, jack". You both looked up at eachother smiling, as you leaned into eachother, and your lips finally met his you knew that no matter what, Jack wold always be by your side, and he knew you would always be by his.

do not plagiarize, translate,or repost my work.

finished- April 8, 2023 , 9:16 AM