#& these lil guys came to save the day

[luvwestwood]

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso x you #jjk drabbles #jjk smut

[astonmartinii]

witchy business | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: reader x oscar piastri

oscar's gf is a lil kooky but she puts solstice to good use and mainfests some luck for her bf

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 31,094 others

yourusername: you're not really sisters if you've never done a ritual together ...

view all comments

user1 she's so mother

user2 i can't wrap my head around how her and oscar came to be but i love it

oscarpiastri don't have too much fun without me :(

yourusername tell your team to take out the no ritual clause from your contract i swear they're safe landonorris i heard your latin once IT IS NOT SAFE yourusername falsehoods !!

user3 does this girl have a job or is she just cosplaying ahs coven full time

yourusername i'm a florist, do you want my social security number and tax returns too?

danielricciardo any way you could like turn me into a real honey badger for a couple hours that sounds fun?

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 490,568 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: some time off well spent with my love

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user10 i am once again asking - how did this happen?

user11 it's actually a really cute story they apparently went to school together and she still does a weekly bouquet for his mum and grandma. they're og sweethearts all that opposites attract jazz

landonorris don't even get a photo credit with all the trauma i experienced for that pic

oscarpiastri bro you barged into my room and took a photo? landonorris i didn't see any sock on the door oscarpiastri it was my own house?

yourusername i love every moment together with you

oscarpiastri that sentiment goes both ways xx user12 god i am so alone

f1teaandgossip

liked by 14,098 others

f1teaandgossip: with lando and oscar being reported as frustrated, how long do you think it'll be until they're linked with moves elsewhere and do you think the updates will improve the car?

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user15 they don't deserve this

user16 i don't wanna be that person but this is karma for what they did to daniel

user17 i honestly think magic might be our only chance

user18 @yourusername pls work some magic

yourusername on it 🫡 user19 now that's my favourite wag

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 58,451 others

yourusername: the full moon is here and i'm bringing some luck to my baby

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user20 mother is here to save the day i know that's right

landonorris if this works i'll never say you're scary ever again

yourusername *when it works have some faith in the moon lando landonorris yeah i don't think i wanna mess with the moon

user21 that moment when the mcl60 is so bad that you start to believe in witchcraft

oscarpiastri i love you so much (p.s. thank you to the girls as well, i'll cover the next candle order)

yourusername i love you too honey - we're rooting for you yourbff1 we love you oscar yourbff2 i don't understand your sport but i love the wages cause candles !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

charles_leclerc so are you adept in curses? asking for a friend....

maxverstappen1 sure. yourusername i don't (but i can give you a good luck crystal) charles_leclerc i'll take anything at this point

mclaren

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 808,458 others

mclaren: WOOOOOOOOOOOO WE TAKE A 2 - 3 FINISH IN HUNGARY 🇭🇺 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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user26 i am bamboozled

user27 so .... it worked?

landonorris i have never said a bad word about y/n's hobby NEVER I LOVE YOU Y/N AND I LOVE THE MOON

oscarpiastri she's still MY girlfriend mate landonorris i am aware i am merely stating my appreciation for her

user28 i know the team just finally got their shit together... but YAAAAS WITCH SLAY

yourusername so so happy for you guys

oscarpiastri i love you so so so so much xxxxxxxx

user29 y/n is my driver of the day

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 68,349 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: i love you so. forever proud.

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user31 fave couple FOR REAL

landonorris fine yall are so cute

oscarpiastri finally, only took a few months

user32 i need something like this in my life

oscarpiastri i love you more.

yourusername anything for you. even asking the moon for help with cars.

danielricciardo once again i am asking to be turned into a real honey badger for a couple hours

maxverstappen1 i think it's time to give up danny

note: idk what this is but lol i had fun - i shall get to the requests next, hope you enjoy !!!

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #f1 social media au #f1 ins

[janitorhutcherson]

i'm totally NOT touch starved so IM TOTALLY NOT asking for peeta mellark and touch starved reader... totally NOT. (i love your writing sm ☺️)

i am FINALLY giving the people what they want!! i know this isn't a whole fic/imagine but instead headcanons, BUT! it is finally peeta. i promise there will be more peeta content in the future. im working my way through the movies again and im about to reread the books, i want to be accurate about his portrayal so y'all feel like its more realistic, but here is a lil taste of what is to come! i rly hope you enjoy <3 btw!! this takes place after EVERYTHING in the books. ur basically katiness.

• Peeta is a huge softy, he's cuddly, loving, affectionate, and definitely touch starved himself. He's the type of guy to mostly have his own contact with you in some way. Sometimes he will grip onto your arm, he'll have his arm around your shoulder or your waist, or even just grip onto your shirt. When you're sitting on the couch, he opts to sit hip to hip even when the entirety of the couch is empty. When you're not cuddling in bed, you're facing opposite sides, sleeping butt-to-butt. Even with that being said, sometimes Peeta needed some space, his own bubble. You, however, did not love that.

• This is exactly why it was somewhat difficult for Peeta to understand touchstarved!reader. Regardless of how close you were, you needed more. Anytime you're walking in the district, rather it's to pick up some ingredients for the bakery or simply a leisurely walk, if he opted not to hold on to you in some way, you'd freak a little. You'd grip onto his hand, either squeezing it in yours or holding onto his larger fingers.

• Whenever dishes were being done or chores were tended to, you would wrap your arms around his waist from behind or follow him at the heel. You were desperate for his attention, his affection, his touch. Without it, you felt cold and disconnected. His touch pleased the ache that prickled against your skin from years of desperately wanting to be held.

• At night, you'd squeeze up under his arm. Your head would be tucked into his armpit, your arms wrapped around him as you tugged him close, closing your eyes and taking in his smell. When you'd fall asleep facing away from each other, Peeta wouldn't even notice you flip over to face him once he was fast asleep, curling up against him, squeezing him tightly like your life depended on it.

• In all honesty? It felt like your life did depend on it. You were a tribute alongside with Peeta, you'd both been through hell and back together. You had nightmares and he was the only one that could ground them. Part of your touch starved desperation came from the times you were alone, afraid, for yourself, for your lover. It was difficult.

• A lot of nights Peeta would ensure he'd hold you close, all too aware that he was the cure to your nightly insanity. This made you feel better, softer, warmer. On days when you were simply cuddling in bed together, you felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs would be tangled with his, your foreheads touching, arms wrapped around one another. But nothing felt good enough. In instances like these, you would climb into his shirt, sticking your head through the hole for his own head, one that was stretched out from the many times you'd done this, one he specifically designated as his lounge shirt for this reason. Other times you would both strip your clothes off, cuddling skin to skin while Peeta would stroke your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

• All in all, Peeta is a gentle and caring lover, understanding of your needs. He'd do his best to meet them, even when it meant staying glued to your hip. He loved you, the history you two had, the stuff you'd been through, and he'd do anything to ensure your happiness and your safety. After all, you were who saved him, who kept him grounded as well, the love of his life... but, his thoughts are for another story.

#peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark imagine #peeta mellark edit #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark headcanon #peeta mellark fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #peeta x reader #peeta mellark whump #the hunger games peeta #peeta my beloved #thg peeta

[yb-cringe]

qjaiden lore will be like funny haha silly guy lil guy silly giggle and then also like "i am not okay. i came here alone and i made two close bonds that i didnt feel i deserved. my son died and i don't think i'm okay. i go to my friends wedding i love his husband and i love him and he is happy and smiling and that is all i have ever wanted and i am here in a house where we had our best day together, sleeping outside in the grass, saving the warmth and roses and paintings for the empty bed inside where our son would sleep. all i have left is trust and i give it to the creature that told me i had only ten minutes left with my son until he was gone forever because someone has to and it cant be someone who has something to lose and i am okay being collateral damage." and then she'll go back to heheeehee hoo hoo snorkmimimimimi culero

#qsmp #qsmp liveblogging #qsmp jaiden #having a lot of thoughts tonight

[stariekis]

ops ... just got caught !

pairing : idol!ni-ki + fem!reader . genre : fluff . cw : kisses and i think that's all <3 . wc : 2.3k

— synopsis : you must be very careful confessing your feelings, that said person might hear you ...

— notes : i love my silly lil awkward ni-ki 🤲🏻 i really hope you guys like it <3 as always reposts are very welcomed here ! ~

— 'Oh my god yes I do have the biggest crush on her can you guys like leave me alone'. the other six boys that were sitting on the table right in front of ni-ki were in complete shock.

For a bit hit of context ; Ni-ki and you are childhood best friend, both of you traveled together to Korea wanting to be idols. But some years later you found out that maybe the idol life wasn't for you and decided to stop training and started studying again. Both of you kept in contact, even though he have the busiest scheduel ever he always makes sure to save some time of his day to talk to you.

Because of your studies you've been living abroad for some time now so you and Ni-ki haven't seen each other after the day you move to your current city. This lead us to the current situation.

You were standing behind his tall figure, your mouth hanging open as you heard what the boy just said. Today was the last stop of their 'fate tour', which happens to be the city where you where currently living, and you decide to surprise him at the restaurant where they planned on eating after the concert ended.

When Ni-ki saw all of his friends looking behind him with such expressions he turned around slowly. That's when his eyes met yours.

He didn't know what to feel, he was happy obviously but when he realized that you might have heard what he just said he felt a wave of awkwardness taking over his whole body.

He turned around as fast as he could and tried to hide his face in his hands, wanting to avoid your gaze. — 'Well hello to you too big boy' you said giggling a bit, you came closer to him and gave him a back hug while he was still sitting on his chair.

While hugging him you took his hands out of his face and gave him a quick peck on his red tinted cheeks — 'You heard that didn't you?' Ni-ki asked, tilting his head to the side a bit to look at you, finally able to look at your eyes.

You nodded, your hands intertwined with his as you play with his rings — 'And if you want an answer, i also have the biggest crush on you' and right after you gave him your answer to his confession he turned to you and got up from his chair.

He stood in front of you, his hands holding your face. He looked at your eyes and mouthed a silent 'are you serious?', as soon as you nooded your head he closed the gap between the two of you, kissing you softly.

— 'You two, this might be a private area but we are still here, save it for later' said Sunghoon. Ni-ki pulled away and look at his older brother with the most terrifying gaze he has ever give them.

All eight of you spent the rest of the night together. They kept asking you about your life there and you gladly told them, all of this happening while Ni-ki looked at you with the biggest loving eyes ever while listening to you.

What a better way to end such a successful tour than this ?

tag list (open.) : send an ask if you want to be added <3

#— my work 📑 #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen sfw #enhypen one shot #enhypen oneshots #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enha #enha headcanons #enha scenarios #enha drabble #enha fluff #enha imagines #enha oneshots #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enha x female reader #nishimura riki #ni ki #niki x reader #niki soft thoughts #niki soft hours #ni ki fluff #niki oneshots #niki drabbles #niki headcanons

[wlntrsldler]

another fratboy! luke installment. percy comes to visit!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5 (final)

tagged poseidonsfavchild and lukecastell4n.

yn_yln: baby bro came to visit so we showed him around 🏙️

poseidonsfavchild: you did not buy a single book in that bookstore stop cappin for the gram

yn_yln: 😐 go home

poseidonsfavchild: yw for the last picture

poseidonsfavchild: i couldve lived the rest of my life without seeing yall like that tho

bethchase: dont listen to him. he talks about how cute u guys are when ur gone

liked by yn_yln and lukecastell4n.

lukecastell4n: HA I KNEW YOU LIKED US TOGETHER

poseidonsfavchild: i shouldve pushed u in the water and let u drown when i had the chance

gr0verunderwood: me and bethchase gotta go with him next time!!!

yn_yln: yes!! i miss my kiddos 🥹🩵

liked by bethchase.

clarisselarue: u and luke are sickeningly cute bye

silenabeauregard: RIGHT

poseidonsfavchild posted a story!

y’all lukecastell4n and chrisr0driguez live like rats wtf is this?

location: kappa sigma house at umm.

lukecastell4n replied to this story:

lukecastell4n: PERCY DELETE THIS

lukecastell4n: we haven’t cleaned yet :(

lukecastell4n: it doesn’t always look like this trust

lukecastell4n: we haven’t had chapter yet and we usually clean then

poseidonsfavchild: “it doesn’t always look like this trust” ive been here for three days and it’s looked like this the whole time

read.

bethchase replied to this story:

bethchase: oh ew 😭😭😭

bethchase: boys are so dirty

poseidonsfavchild: don’t group me with them

bethchase: i once saw a week old pizza in your cabin that had mushrooms growing on top of the mushrooms

poseidonsfavchild: sorry i didnt have time to clean my room i was too busy SAVING OLYMPUS?!

read.

yn_yln replied to this story:

yn_yln: this is why i dont sleep over the ksig house

poseidonsfavchild: I'm gonna stop u right there

poseidonsfavchild: i dont need to know any more about ur sleepovers

read.

tagged yn_yln.

lukecastell4n: recharging on a brunch date with my fav tridelt after the weekend we just had

yn_yln: hot

yn_yln: love you 🩵 spending time with u is a blessing

lukecastell4n: you’re the biggest blessing 🤍

silenabeauregard: AWWWW SHITTTTT

bethchase: CUTE

clarisselarue: KSIG PRES IS A SOFTIE

lukecastell4n: only for my girl 🤷🏻‍♂️

liked by yn_yln.

poseidonsfavchild: im having a hard time believing that hanging out with me for ONE WEEKEND warrants a “recharge” when ur partying every weekend

lukecastell4n: percy you almost fought the chipotle staff TWICE

poseidonsfavchild: I PAID FOR GUAC SO I DESERVE MY GUAC

yn_yln: YOU paid? 🤨

poseidonsfavchild: MY SISTER PAID FOR GUAC SO I DESERVE GUAC

lukecastell4n: and the second time?

poseidonsfavchild: i didnt like their vibe idk

gr0verunderwood: percy 🤦🏾‍♂️

tagged lukecastell4n.

yn_yln: being in love is fun when u dont have ur little brother in ur ear telling u it’s gross that you’re dating his idol

poseidonsfavchild: I CALLED HIM MY IDOL ONCE

poseidonsfavchild: i’ve grown. i’m no longer young and naive.

gr0verunderwood: LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER. he always asks what we think luke's workout is. he's tryna get like him.

liked by lukecastell4n.

poseidonsfavchild: I TOLD YOU THAT IN CONFIDENCE

lukecastell4n: i gotchu lil bro

poseidonsfavchild: don't ever call me that again.

lukecastell4n: i love you forever and ever

liked by yn_yln.

silenabeauregard: wait the second pic!!! where is that!!!

yn_yln: the museum downtown on 6th!

silenabeauregard: ty!!! charliebeck we need to go.

liked by charliebeck.

#hehe silly post #frances writes #luke castellan #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan smau #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #percy jackson smau #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo smau

[b00tyliciousbabe]

gingerbread

himbo bf x male reader

summary: spending time with your boyfriend and his family for the holidays. some fluff, lil angst, bad jokes (i apologise in advance), and minimal smut of course.

notes: merry chrysler! hope y’all pretty people are doing amazing. notoriously indecisive in true bootylicious fashion, i settled on one of my fave typa men - gentle giant himbos. think danny wheeler from baby daddy. now, i would never call my men dumb, but always be saying real stupid things. there’s a specific kind of wonder that you can see in their eyes…i’m whipped.

disclaimer: i also tried to keep it as open to as many tastes as possible, so a lot of who he is, you can do create yourself. but i had to make him a bit of a redhead, they too fine.

y’all better gass me because the way i wrote this 3 hours before the end of xmas day, enjoy babies <3

saved in his phone as gingerbread - he’s a ginger, and you get bred xx

you always loved spending time with your boyfriend’s family, almost as much as they loved you. his mother was the first to catch Y/N fever, mostly because you reminded her of herself and it was a relief to know that someone could handle her son’s antics . then it was his brothers, they loved how mellow you made him, as if all of his struggles melted away when you waltzed into his life. they felt like your guardians, wanting to protect you because they knew how much you meant to their baby brother. and his sisters…they’re lowkey your best friends. when you first met, y’all got on so well with one another bonding over fashion, pop culture, and weirdly philosophy.

his dad liked you as a person, believing you were a kind soul, but not the person for his son, because of how different you two were. they were a quiet luxury kinda family, which didn’t necessarily coincide with how connected you were with celebrities. this was until he saw how well you worked together. whilst working on a huge project for the family business, your boyfriend was stressed in the office. you walked in, ready to go on a date after he’d finished. ‘hey baby, you look hot, where you going?’ he’d forgotten, but you never held it against him. you loved to see the cogs turn in his head as he came to a realisation. ‘shit. it’s date night.’ he groaned head in hands. ‘I’m so sorry Y/N, work’s just been so busy, the clients wanted to move the order forward, the contractors needed more data on the financial markets, and…’ you sat down on his desk, holding his chin so you guys exchanged eye contact. ‘babe, it’s all good, i know it’s a really busy time for you.’ you stroked his face reassuringly, a sigh of relief emitted from his lips. ‘i ain’t leaving your side, we’re in this together,’ you said as you went in for a kiss. it was deep and sensual, and if you didn’t stop when you did, you would’ve left that room walking side to side. ‘so, what can i help with?’ you responded, looking at the documents on the desk. he stared up lovingly, ‘i don’t deserve you,’ he admitted ‘too good to me.’ which garnered a little chuckle from you. his dad saw how supportive you were, pulling an all-nighter for the benefit of your man. you were so tired that the two of you spooned on the couch in his office, and slept there. early the next morning, the two of you were met with a breakfast course on the coffee table and your respective starbucks orders. you kissed your bf goodbye, so he could work, and just as you were about to leave, his father stopped you. ‘good morning Y/N, did you enjoy the food?’ he questioned as you entered the elevator together. ‘it was lovely sir, thank you.’ you replied hesitantly. ‘the only thanks due is to you, i appreciate how you’re always there for my son.’ you smiled inside, longing to prove yourself to him. ‘I love him sir, he needs to know that any problem he has, automatically becomes our problem to solve together.’ he knew at that moment, you were the perfect fit.

one of the core memories of your relationship was the weekend in the alps. your boyfriend thought this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to have some alone time with you before the new year. with award season coming up, many celebrities needed to be styled, you legit had no time to see him, it was going to be amazing. you stayed in the chalet his parents owned, but neither of you knew that it’d be an entire sibling getaway. the two of you snuggled under the blankets, drinking hot chocolate, whilst listening to some quiet smooth jazz in the background. revelling in how cozy and warm it was, he was dozing off whilst cuddling and you decided to follow suit, but not before a quick kiss on your bf’s nose - he’s so cute. unfortunately, like most precious things, this didn’t last long. there was a huge clatter at the door, awakening you two. ‘what the fuck are you guys doing here?’ your man blasted at them. ‘oh hey lil bro,’ one of them said as the others made themselves feel at home. ‘we heard you lovebirds were here and wanted to see Y/N again, we missed him.’ they all waved at you. you blushed and immediately got up greet them all with hugs and squeals. ‘omds, i haven’t see you guys in ages, we have so much to catch up on.’ you blurted out in an excited frenzy. your love, on the other hand, didn’t share the same energy. whilst you had walked to his sisters, his brothers playfully punched your bf to cheer up. ‘you idiots, have the worst timing, he said as they got ready to get some wood for the chimney.

it was just you and the girls, as you gossiped about the drama that went down during fashion week as they ate up every word. you mostly had done a lot of listening to their relationship dramas and work lives, as you shared a couple giggles. you has made gingerbread men, as his sisters watched the master at work. ‘Y/N, these are delicious, how are you so good at everything?’ they praised which made you blush. the boys had returned, with your man wincing with pain as his brothers carried him in. ‘the dummy tripped on the snow’ they said snickering as you walked to help him. ‘how many times have i told you to be careful out there?’ you said, concerningly staring at the bruise on his hip. you touched it gently earning a wince from him as he pushed away your hand. ‘sorry babe.’ he stared dead in your eye and looked away, giving you the silent treatment. ‘what do you need?’ he continued airing. ‘i’m gonna get some bandages’ you said, unsure of what you did to hurt him emotionally.

‘the fuck is wrong with you?’ his sisters protested, thumping his head. ‘ow! what do you mean?’ ‘that boy loves you, so much so that he puts up with all of your shit and stupidity.’ they come to your defence. he looks to his brothers for help, but to no avail. ‘dude, I’ll be real, you fucked up.’ one says. ‘he was just trying to help’ another adds. like the youngest, he continues to deflect ‘well, if you guys hadn’t come, i wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and me and Y/N would have been happier. he finally admitted. ‘oh damn.’ their faces became gentler as they circled in on him. ‘I just never get to see him now, with work and everything, and i don’t want him to get used to not seeing me’ he started to get teary but hid it behind a scowl. ‘bro, you are meant to be with Y/N, i see it in your eyes every time he walks into a room, like he’s the only one there.’ your bf smiles at the mere thought of your face. ‘see, he ain’t even here and you’re cheesing so bad rn.’ they all laugh. ‘i don’t know how to tell him, he’s so good at communicating his feelings, i just, i just can’t do it the way he does.’ his heart begins to beat faster. ‘that’s the thing though, he knows you better than you know yourself.’ the eldest brother says ‘there’s nothing that he won’t be able to understand because the two of are so connected.’

you enter with the bandages and medical supplies. ‘here’s a chance to fix that’ his twin sister says as they leave and move to the other side of the mansion, locking the door behind them as they wave you bye for now. you sit beside him on the sofa, placing a hot compress on his bruise. ‘Y/N, we need to talk.’ you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine by being stand-offish ‘speak then.’ you say glaring into his eyes that made you melt every time but now. ‘i am so sorry for my rude behaviour, i know you were just tryna help my stubborn ass.’ you continued tending to his wounds, with an apathy rivalled only by the unconditional love you have for him. ‘whatever.’ you muttered. ‘aw, come on baby, don’t be like that.’ he grimaced. ‘like what,’ your voice growing in confidence ‘like someone who, as hard as they try, can never get their boyfriend to fully open up?’ you admitted. ‘you know that’s not the whole story.’ he looks down. ‘mkay’ you say, tired of arguin, he just needed to cool off. he takes a deep breath. ‘Y/N, you know i love you more than anything ’ your boyfriend boldly states, deepening your eye contact. ‘and you know i love you the same, but sometimes love is not enough,’ you struggle to get the words out, getting choked up as you hold his cheek for stability. he turns to kiss you, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he caresses your thigh, as your tongues dance for dominance in the warmth of your mouth. you pulled back. ‘here goes nothing, babe, I’m afraid, afraid of losing you.’ he admitted desperately. ‘we barely ever see each other and I’m scared that it has, um, like, maybe, um’ he failed to articulate his thoughts, angering him further. ‘calm down love, i hear what you’re saying. you’re worried about the possibility of us being comfortable with rarely seeing one another and what that means for us.’ you always knew how to soothe his heart. ‘exactly, you’re just so good at letting me know what we need to do to make this relationship work that I’m clueless at asking for help.’ he smiled earning a chuckle from you. ‘we’re in this together boo, you won’t ever lose me.’ as he sneers into another smooch. ‘fuck.’ he moaned into your mouth as a tent forms in his boxers. ‘your voice always gets me going.’ you looked down and immediately dropped to your knees.

you hadn’t sucked your boyfriend’s cock in what seemed like forever. you pulled his boxers to his ankles as his thick cock sprung up, throbbing in the cool air of the room. you grabbed his pole, gaslighting him into thinking you were going to start at the tip. instead you began to massage his beefy, low-hanging balls in your mouth. ‘Y/N, fuck, that’s where the spunk is stored, not where you drink it from’ he snickered, removing them from your mouth. ‘you’ve got to st-UGHHHH’ you deepthroated with ease, loving how his dumb, naive nature was still translated to your time in the sheets. ‘that’s it baby, good boy’ he praises, looking at the slobber that made his dick glisten. ‘shit.’ he cums without warning, giving you an impromptu facial. ‘sorry darling, i came as soon as i saw you slap my dick on your thick lips.’ your boyfriend helped you to clean up, pushing his hand all over your face and fingering your mouth with his nut.

you moved to undressing, as you straddled your man. ‘i know you wanna pound me into tomorrow, but you can’t,’ gesturing to his bruise. he whined and cooed. ‘however…’ you whispered into his ear, jerking him of with a mix of his cum and your spit ‘imma help my man out tonight.’ as you sank onto his schlong with ease. his hands immediately grabbed your globes, as he licked his lips salaciousy, enjoying your physique. ‘so fucking hot.’ your bf mumbled. you started bouncing on his cock as he slowly rutted in you from beneath, your hole was already sore.

it was gonna be a long night…

@gayaristocrat imma save your fantasy for dacre, that man is 90s fine fr

#gay #smut #bottom male reader #male x male #mlm #male reader #christmas fanfic #male x male fluff #male x male angst

[vacayisland]

HIII i saw that you were taking request so im just asking if you could make a John dory x reader insert fanfic?

John dory meeting his spouce on the mission with Branch and Poppy when they find Bruce and hits it off with them while their is working at Bruces little diner?

@!; It's always a "vacay" with you. John Dory (JD) / Reader

"Summary"! John Dory didn't expect meeting the love of his life on a mission to save his brother; yet here he was, finding himself oh so fascinated with you that Spruce, Branch, and Poppy are having to physically pull him away from Vacay Island! "Tags"! Fluff! A lil awkward. Also, not proof read. I need to research JD a little more before writing another fanfiction about him, yet I tried my best with his personality!

@!; The last thing that John Dory expected from this mission was to find someone who completed him wholly, fully, and completely. The last thing he expected, when arriving to Vacay Island was to fall in love, head over heels for another Troll. The last thing he expected to come from this mission was to find someone who finally understood; understood him and his ways and how he is. Who made him want to be better while helping make him better; and in turn he helps them be a better version of themself. And it felt like some sort of weird destiny. They were only going to the island to find Spruce; a mission with one end goal, one way to go. Yet, when following Spruce (now Bruce) into his co-owned resort, singing had caught his attention right away...

Branch and Poppy kept following after Spruce, who hadn't turned around yet and kept trying to wave the two off while claiming his band days were over and to keep it all hushed-hushed. Though JD had stopped half way through the walk, hearing a tune flutter through the speakers of the indoor seating area. His interest had been captured, it was held captive with ever flutter of the sweet notes that wafted through the air. Though he slowly started to back up to follow his younger brother to get Spruce, he kept his eye out for the person who held such a lovely voice. "This is my wife, Brandy!" JD had swung himself on top of the bar top just as Bruce was introducing his wife. He was about to wave them off, though took a quick double turn when he actually saw who Bruce's wide was. Then grew even more confused when Bruce was bombarded with 10... 11... maybe 12 kids?! "How do you?-" JD pointed towards Brandy and Bruce, managing to interject between all the kids and chaos; Asking the one question that him, Poppy, and Branch were thinking - maybe less Poppy, and more him and Branch. Yet still, how would such a relationship even work? Nevertheless work so well where they had so many children- wait no, JD scrunched his nose as the thoughts that came to mind. He subtly leaned away from the two, glancing between Branch and Poppy and Bruce and Brandy. He turned them out for a moment, glancing back at the open sitting area as everyone chatted and spoke, laughed and cackled, just having a good time. And that's when he saw a flash of color, different from the other warmer-tones. JD didn't notice the way his breath caught in his throat the moment you swung by, landing on the counter top with a skidded stop. Despite wearing roller blades, the wheels didn't bother you. "Brandy! You got the food for Skid and Mary?" "Oh hey! Guys, that's (Y/N), a worker of mine." Bruce cut in as Brandy nodded, ringing a bell before a basket of fries and burgers were pushed out from the kitchen. She would take them, slide them across the counter to you, and you would, as though these plates weren't triple your size, hooked your hair around the holes of the basket. "Thanks, gotta run! Oh- hey Bruce." A wave, bright smile, and you were off; having stopped in for a brief moment but completely capturing JD's attention once again. He couldn't help but watch as you skated off, dragging the plates behind you while dodging whoever and whatever came your way. "So they was singing." JD blurted, not exactly meaning to. Though he captured his brothers and Poppy's attention. Bruce simply crossed his arms, "Oh, (Y/N)? Yeah! They always sing while they work, sometimes they even take a break to entertain everyone with a musical number." Though JD didn't catch it, Branch give him a skeptical look; being quicker to catch onto the way JD looked on you and the slightly softer tone he had.

@!; JD wasn't sure what attracted him to you yet, but he found himself looking for you every second of their stay trying to convenience Bruce to come help save Floyd. Even during the 'Brozone's back' performance, he looked for your face in the crowd; trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of you and your rolling skating antics. When they were done, while Poppy and Bruce's family were cheering them on, his eyes were stuck on the crowd. His nose scrunched as he tried to keep old thoughts out of his head, wondering why you weren't here praising him for his singing or anything like that. No, he cannot think like that. He's growing, he's outgrown that mindset- "Earth to JD!" JD snapped out of his thoughts at Poppy frantically waving her hand in front of his face. A hard blink and he turned over to the staring company. Brandy had a knowing look, in which JD squinted at trying to decipher. Poppy playfully punched JD's arm, "Oh, good to have you back!" A big grin paired her child like antics, in which JD only laughed and brushed off. "What are you talking about, I've been here since the beginning. After all, I'm the one who found Floyd's lett-" Yet he wasn't able to finish before Branch cut in. "Yeah, half here. Ever since we stepped foot here you've been," And Branch waited no time drawing a circle at the side of his temple, pairing it with a whistle; effectively calling JD insane, or mainly out of it. Poppy playfully slapped Branch's arm away from his head, saying something about how that was rude to do. Branch smiled a little, but tried to keep a straight face, as he gestured over to JD with a 'come on' type of look. Poppy glanced over to JD for a moment then back at Branch, a silent agreement that she would try to make unobvious. Bruce simply chuckled at their antics. "What? What's funny?" JD pointed at Bruce, narrowing his eyes a little as his more laid-back brother. "Oh nothing.." And there was a hint in Bruce's voice that made it sound like there was more. Yet he didn't say anything, arms crossed, as he gave JD a knowing look. An oddly, really knowing look. It threw JD off. He wasn't that readable anymore, he wasn't how he was when the band was together and his brothers shouldn't know how he is! He didn't like that look. So he glanced away from Bruce. Yet there was a feeling in his gut that JD knew that Bruce had some sort of hint of what was distracting him.

@!; The mission had been delayed a day. Bruce needed to stay back for a day longer to help Brandy with the kids and figure out all the logistics of leaving so suddenly. JD had gone off on his own, letting Branch and Poppy do their own thing, as he went to go walk on the beach. There wasn't much else to do than to walk on the beach and take in the scene. He didn't exactly want to get into the water, despite how impressing it might be to you- And there his mind goes again! JD cursed himself and cursed his thoughts and cursed you!- Then he paused, with a scrunch of his nose. He couldn't curse you no matter how much he was irritated you infiltrated his thoughts. He hasn't even spoken to you! How would he know you would even like him? That he would even like you! "A little help!!" JD's attention snapped behind him as he heard the shout from an all too familiar voice. Yet he didn't have time to react, seeing a troll barreling towards him with their arms extended and a panic-stricken look. JD jumped out of the way, landing in the sand and purposefully with more force than needed to dig himself in. You whizzed by him and he quickly shot his hair our towards you, wrapping it around your waist and trying to hold onto the friction from the sand to slow you down. Yet, maybe he should have dug himself in deeper. He knew this as soon as his left foot lost footing and he shot forward, dragging across the sand and towards you. He tried grabbing onto something, yet you both only crashed into each other; And while that helped to stop you, it also caused you both to barrel and roll into the shore of the ocean, effectively drenching you both in salty water. JD groaned, laying in the mushy sand floor, feeling the waves crash up against him and recede slowly back once they came. He felt groggy, a little disorientated, yet he didn't have much time to reflect on that feeling when someone began to shake him. "Oh my god! Please don't be dead- please!" And with a few slaps to his cheek, JD shoved a hand into the face of whoever was trying to bother him at this moment. There was a silence for a moment, maybe out of shock, before JD heard the person beside him let out a deep sigh. It was a sigh like the weight of the world had been lifted off the person's shoulders, releasing them some sort of trouble or entanglement with liability. JD opened one eye when the ocean drew back again, keeping his eyes half-lidded, as he tried to see who was with him in the ocean. He swore he nearly died the minute that he saw you, soaking head to toe and looking down at him with the most worrisome look. He jolted up to a sit, not realizing his hand was still cupping your mouth until a moment later; When he drew it back, glancing down at it and back up at you, then cautiously placing it beside him. "Are you okay?" And despite how awkward this situation could be, you didn't make it that way. And JD slightly hoped it was because you saw the look on his face; The silent apology he couldn't bare himself to say. He's been working on himself, but he's not that level of worked on yet. Especially since he knew he owed a few people some big apologies.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." JD mumbled after a minute. He took in a deep breath before placing his hands on his knees and standing up, letting out the breath in a long sigh as he did so. "Oh- um! That's good." Your smile was anxious, a little weary, as you still sat in the mushy sand in the fire range of the waves. JD offered you his hand. You took it, allowing him to help you onto your feet. And that awkward silence along with a prolonged holding of hands. JD wasn't sure why, but he noticed the way your hand fit perfectly into his like all your hands were made to do was hold each other. He kind of didn't want to let go, but did so for the sake of comfortability. It would be awkward to hold hands with a strange, right? And no matter how many fangirls they had felt with in Brozone, JD would never know that answer. He guessed yes, by the way your eyes shifted to the left in an uncomfortable fashion. Yet he saw the way your eyes flicked back to his the moment he let go. He noticed the way your hand dropped to your side limp-like, and the small smile that crept to your face. There was some sort of glint in your eyes that drew JD in again. Though he couldn't exactly tell what that sparkle was for; he just hoped you were going the same way his brain was. "Hey," A pause, you were chewing over your words. "Would you like to talk over a basket of nachos?" "Were you reading my mind?" JD cocked up his eyebrow, giving you a snicker as he saw the cheeky look that rose on your face. "Maybe I am, you'll never know! But I have an employ discount I still have to use and this seems like the perfect occasion to take my break." And you grinned a grin that made JD feel like you were looking right through him; That you knew all his flaws and strengths all at once and yet still loved him for every single one of them. And maybe he was insane to think so. And maybe JD should get to know you better before he jumps to conclusions. But, shit, you had him hooked in a way no Troll has had him before.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#dreamworks trolls #brozone x reader #john dory trolls #trolls brozone #john dory headcanons #brozone #trolls fandom #trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #john dory #branch #queen poppy #trolls branch #floyd trolls #clay trolls

[jojissalsa]

Dangerous Game (part one)

you get a new job as a federal agent for the F.O.S, and now you're stuck dealing with the reckless D.S.O agent, Leon Kennedy.

Warnings: dom/older!Leon, sub!reader, slight age gap (reader is in late 20s, up to y'all), dirty thoughts, masturbation (f and m). this one is fairly tame. kinda.

WC: 2.8k

an: hey y'all!! i'm hoping to make this into a 3 parter, felt like my idea is a lil too big for just one fic, that's why this one is probably a tad more tame compared my previous stuff. as per usual, critique, reposts and requests are welcome! enjoy <3 (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)

Working for the Field Operations Support is fairly easy, you got a nice seat at the front desk as the receptionist, you’ve worked there for a good couple of years. Nothing crazy ever happened, and everyone respected you pretty well. Especially Hunnigan. Well, Ingrid to you, Hunnigan to your coworkers. You always respected her the most, always envious of her job. You initially applied for her job, but you could take being a receptionist. You could live vicariously through her, since she seemed to like you the most in and outside of work. Hunnigan was always so sweet, giving you a pleasant smile and a morning chat whenever she’d come in for work, bringing you lunch as you two got closer. That also opened the door to lots of girl talk, mainly about how stressful the job was sometimes. Hunnigan loved her job, truly, but it came with heavy challenges. A very heavy one would be Leon Kennedy, a D.S.O agent she’s worked with for a majority of her career.

You’ve heard some of the horror stories from her about the bioweapons, insidious cults and rich white guys that try to carry on Umbrella’s work but fail miserably every time. This time seemed a bit different though, more final for her. “Honestly, the guy is an idiot sometimes. Likable, but an idiot.” You snicker at how nice she’s being for how pissed she looks, angrily sipping her coffee from the breakroom. “I think you mean he’s a lovable dumbass, but I guess that works too.” You chuckle softly, stirring sugar into your own fresh cup of coffee. “Hey, I’m serious this time. I mean, come on, I’m getting older.” Hunnigan watches as you sit down across from her, a worried expression starting to take over your features. “You really think it’s time to call it quits?” “Maybe not quitting just yet, just maybe looking over a different agent. Spots are starting to open up y’know.” Your eyebrows shoot up at that, trying to hide your excitement as you look down to sip your coffee. “Well, maybe I can take your spot? I’m pretty confident, and I’ve done all the training.” She shares your new found excitement, reaching out to put her hand over yours. “I’ll pull some strings, okay? I think we both need a change of scenery.” Her sweet smile never fails to spread to you, you can trust her. She’s been your best friend, if you’re being honest, and you’re sure she shares the same sentiment.

It didn’t take long for those strings to be pulled, and soon you were standing in front of the President and a few other important men in nice suits, watching as you shake hands and smile awkwardly. Finally, you get a briefing on the infamous federal agent you would be helping. Leon Scott Kennedy. He’s got a good reputation with everyone in the room, saying that while he may have an “eccentric” personality, he’s a hard working man, compliments all coming from the President. You heard about it from Hunnigan and a few other agents that he saved his daughter from a deathly cult, and brought it all down in the same day. You could tell from his file that he clearly worked a lot, even if he didn’t get this job on his own violation. Sucks that he was forced into his life, but it’s good that he’s making it work. Seems like a good looking guy too, at least from the small picture of him clipped to the folder.

And now you’re waiting for that good looking guy to walk into your new office, setting down a few knick-knacks you had on your previous desk. You turn your head to the sound of someone walking in, your eyes widening as they set on the man who seemed to be searching for someone. Good looking was an understatement of the century. The way his blazer fits just right on his biceps, his light brown hair and piercing gaze that just speaks "brooding loner", if you weren't at work you'd have fallen to your knees the second he made eye contact with you. You try to reel in your awe as he walks up to you, dusting off your clothes to make you look put together. "So you're my new babysitter? Y/n, right? I'm Leon Kennedy." Just the sound of his voice is enough to give you goosebumps, but your name from his lips is like a drug that gets you hooked instantly. And just like that, something flips in your brain, you are so not gonna be professional, how can you? How can anyone handle themselves around this man? You shake his hand as he extends it for you, and the feel of his rough hand from hard work sends so many dirty thoughts through your mind, like how good it would feel with his fingers on your neck, or his palm pressed against your tit, or how thick his fingers would feel inside you- chill out, play it cool.

"It's great to finally meet you, Mr. Kennedy, everyone has told me a lot about you.." You make sure to say it in a sultry tone to make it obvious how much you think he's attractive, and he sure as hell catches it. "Good things, I hope." He chuckles, giving you a sly smirk. Oh he knows. Fuck. "Oh don't worry, it's been all good things, promise. Though, I have heard that you made Hunnigan’s job a lot harder." You tease, looking him up and down and matching his sly smirk. Two can play that game. "Sure, but I get the job done, no?" The way he says it is so damn sexy you're sure he's doing what you're doing. "I'm sure you get a lot of things done with that attitude, Mr. Kennedy." You act like you're being sarcastic as you cross your arms under your chest, but you know how he could make you cum with the brush of his arm. "Only one way to find out, right?" That one makes your eyebrows raise, your smile widening as you blush slightly. "Is that an invitation?" You drop your voice slightly, leaning against the wall. The curve of your body sends a shockwave of arousal through him, and his eyes narrow on your figure. "If that's what you think I meant then by all means." He's so damn smug and it just makes you wanna sit on his face to shut him up.

"Is there anything you wanna ask me? About myself, the job?" You try to sound professional and not desperate, but you feel like it's helpless when you're looking up at him and he's so obviously checking you out, his eyes taking note of every curve on your body. Like he’s studying it for later. "I think I have a pretty good idea from Hunnigan and the President, is there anything you wanna ask me?" His question makes your eyes light up, but you don't wanna immediately ask him on a date. Classy, that's who you are to your core. "I can ask you anything I want?" "Anything." You smile smugly, lowering your hand to take his, clearly inspecting his ring finger as you bring it closer to you. "Do you have a girl? I don't see a ring on your finger." You say it in an innocent yet flirty tone that he so obviously gets turned on from, considering how he chuckles lightly as he shakes his head before taking his hand away. "So observant. I guess that comes with the job, huh? No, I'm single." Always such a tease, I guess neither of you can help that though. "Really? I have a hard time believing that." You have a faux surprised look on your face, all in the name of trying to get him to blush. You're getting close, you can feel it. "Is it? I'm an old man, what can I say." That one gets you shifting your thighs, biting your lip as you think of just how much older. What kind of experience comes with that age? "Old man, hmm? You ever thought of being with someone younger?" You step a little closer, just barely invading his personal space. "Haven't met anybody that can keep up." He says it so nonchalant, but fuck if it doesn't light a fire that spreads throughout your body. God, it's so hard not to say you could totally keep up, doesn't matter how long he'd want it. "Keep up, hmm? What, does this job give you a lot of stamina or something?" Your question makes him smile at you confidently, and it gets you oh so excited. "Well, I meant that most women don't like that I'm constantly busy, but if you wanna be dirty minded about it, be my guest." He totally stumps you, and it just makes you giggle and rest your hand on his arm, letting out a lil “my bad” before letting it slip away. You're slick, cause you honestly just touched his arm to feel how firm it was, and oh my god. Like diamonds, kind of hard. You can't imagine how fucking good it’d feel wrapped around your neck- there you go again. Snap out of it.

“You're pretty funny, you know that? I’m gonna have fun talking to you. For work, of course.” He let out a soft laugh at your flattery, loving how you tried to soften the thirstiness of your words with a joke. It's cute, you're really trying to say he's not hot. “Trust me, Hunnigan got very tired of my jokes.” You scoff, cause honestly, who could get tired of this guy? “Sorry, but she doesn't know what she's talking about, clearly you're an A class comedian.” You make it sound a little sarcastic, but he doesn't seem offended in the slightest. He loves a challenge. “Yeah? Aren't you a sweetheart? You love to flatter.” Your eyes widen a bit, resisting the urge to squeal and fan your hot face like a rabid fangirl, simply looking away to try and take a moment away from his hungry gaze. “I mean, it's hard not to, Mr. Kennedy..” You sheepishly give him that win, you’ll take it since he called you sweetheart, and in that teasing, cocky fucking tone of all things. If Cupid was real, you’d probably have a million arrows in your back right now. He parts his lips to reply, but gets cut off by his phone ringing, taking it out of his pocket to see the President calling. “Shit, I gotta take this.” He sighs, clearly wanting to keep talking to you instead. “It’s just Leon by the way, no need for formalities.” You get a smug smile again before he starts to walk back to the door of your office, walking with him to let him leave so you could wave him goodbye. “I’ll see you around, okay?” You nod, your smirk not leaving as he waits for you to say goodbye. “I’ll see you around, Mr. Kennedy~” You and your teasing, it's gonna throw him into cardiac arrest. He shares your smugness before begrudgingly answering his phone, looking back to see you waving bye at him with your dainty little hand. Like you knew he didn't wanna end the conversation.

He couldn't stop thinking about you all damn day after your little exchange, could barely focus on his briefing or look anyone in the eye. Even when he got home, knowing he had to wake up supremely early for work, he couldn't get you off his mind. You weren’t like every corporate drone the D.S.O hires, nothing like Hunnigan either. Bless the woman, but he would finally have someone to laugh at his shitty dad jokes. No wonder you got the job. You were drop dead gorgeous to him, not daring to come close to any Victoria Secret model. The way you giggle when you're nervous, how you sneak touches or how forward you are. God, it took every fiber in his body to not grab you and fuck you in a storage closet. Or against the wall? He just towers over you, he could fold you like a lawn chair and you’d take every inch. Fuck, how did his cock get in his hand? Who cares, honestly. He’s too busy spitting in his hand, too worked up to get anything better to help him jerk off. He groans, thinking of how good your soft, delicate fingers you used to wave at him would feel wrapped around his dick, whispering in his ear in that sexy voice you have. He feels chills down his spine when he remembers the way you teased him, how you didn't even say his name. Cause you didn't wanna give it to him yet, that satisfaction. Jesus, you're gonna kill him before any bioweapon does if you keep that shit up. His hand gets faster as his thoughts keep speeding forward, thinking about how good you’d sound saying his name. Not Mr. Kennedy, Leon. He has to hear it, has to hear you scream it when you cum on his cock. He needs to know how pretty you’d look when you cum, clinging to his arms, maybe even digging your nails into his back as your legs lock around his waist. So fucking hot as you beg to have him fill you up. He cums in his hand, spilling out of his palm and down his happy trail. He lets out a heavy sigh, catching his breath as he comes down from his high. He's not even close to feeling satisfied, even as he gets up to go shower again. He needs you, and he knows you feel the same. Hard part is gonna be getting you, without all the stress of what your coworkers would say.

You honestly don't stray too far from how he felt that night either. The second you closed the door to your office, you sat down and processed everything. It was a lot, seeing a man that fucking fine and not being able to drop to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. You were close to sprinting to a bathroom and taking care of the issue, maybe even slipping a hand between your legs and just testing the waters. Literally. He made you so wet, and you could feel it your entire shift, even as you walked to your car. You could only imagine how wet you’d get if he actually did anything. If he talked dirty? Him telling you to cum would make you do it on the spot, no question. Fuck, if he touched you? You’d be screaming like a damn pornstar, waking up the whole building when he slides his cock inside you. It's all you can think about when you get home, not caring to take a shower when you do. You just plop down on your bed and practically tear your clothes off, desperate for relief. Maybe that’ll save your career, fucking yourself thinking about him. So you do, pulling your nightstand drawer open the second you’re naked, taking out ol’ reliable. You can't count on your hands how many times this vibrator was there for you, it was way more reliable than your parents or therapist. Or you could be addicted to cumming, that too. But who wouldn't be? It's not your concern, especially if it's because of Leon. You wanna hear him say the most degrading, defiling, depraved shit in the world but still praise you for it, praise you for putting out so easily cause you're such a good girl. If fucking him with no hesitation makes you a slut, then you wear that badge proudly. That title feels even better when you start moaning his name, your toy hitting that sweet spot which makes you move your hand faster, needing to cum so damn bad. It feels so dirty in the best way possible, thinking of how firm his thighs would feel under your hands as you grip them tighter every time he shoves his cock further down your throat. You can’t imagine how fucking hot it’d be to hear him order you to grind your wet cunt on his boot, holding your hair so hard that you can’t help but push your nose against his pelvis, making your clit nudge against his boot again. Hearing that cocky son of a bitch tell you to cum would be like the devil coaxing you to join him down in hell, too sinful to imagine without having the real thing. It doesn't stop you from cumming on your toy, whining as your legs shake, turning it off as you heave out breaths. You’re fine if you think about him every night, it's good material for your shower thoughts. You’re more excited for his upcoming mission, making you all giddy as you get ready for bed. You're gonna be insufferable. Lucky Leon~

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon resident evil #resident evil smut #smut #older leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy infinite darkness

[tsimvkas]

how to ride a boat — mason mount

A/N: hello my pretty babies 🫶🏻 need you all to pretend our boy has prince hair back at united for this one. hope you enjoy it and plss forgive any mistakes xx

word count: 3.8k | masterlist

content: unprotected sex and cocky!mason

If you’re being honest with yourself, you knew Mason wasn’t being called up to the England National Team this month. Coming back from injury and only having played two games in a new team after not playing at all for months at the old one, it was obvious his panorama wasn’t good.

But you were thankful for that. Seems ironic, because you’re the first person to want him to be successful, but more than anyone you also know how much he needs to rest. To stay home for a bit, maintaining his work at Carrington and focusing on getting stronger.

Of course, as his two year girlfriend, you always want him to be called up. You always want to use an England’s shirt with his name, ride to Wembley and watch your boy.

And you know how much it means for him to play for his country.

But it’s only the group stage, you remembered yourself. Staying, training, getting better and being called to defend England during the Euros it’s the best plan.

So, when the day arrived and the list came out, you woke up a bit earlier to make him a special breakfast.

It turned out to be really hard to leave your shared bed when Mason was sleeping so angelical, rosy cheeks and open mouth, his arm wrapped around you.

Mason stirred a bit when you lifted his arm and you froze, waiting to see if he would open his eyes, sighing when he stayed asleep.

You did your best to leave the room without making loud noises, wanting him to sleep a bit longer. Once you were downstairs, you started to pick the ingredients for Mason’s favourite pancake, with ‘strawberries, honey and a lot of ice cream’, like he says.

You were scooping a big ice cream ball to put on the plate when you felt strong and warm arms hugging you, making you give a lil jump before chuckling.

“What are you doing downstairs? You know I hate to wake up without you” Mason’s voice was raspy and lasy, and his newly grown beard tickling your neck made you giggle. “Don’t laugh. I hugged the pillow for two entire minutes before I realised”

“Oh, so you confused me with your pillow?” you faked an indignant tone of voice, and he held you even thigh.

“No! I mean, yes, but I was sleepy” he kissed your shoulder. “Are you making pancakes with strawberries, honey and a lot of ice cream?”

Your heart melted with the excitement in his voice and you nodded, finishing it. “It’s a special breakfast for a special guy”

“I’m the special guy, right?” he brushed your neck with his nose, and you wanted to peck his entire face.

“Of course you are” you rolled your eyes playfully, turning in his arms to face him. You hugged his bare torso, kissing his chin. “How are you feeling?”

Mason shrugged, tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling. You could tell it was a real smile, which made you smile as well.

“I mean, we knew I wouldn’t make it this month. I’m okay with it, it’s an opportunity to focus on training and being better at United so I can be a Lion again. And I have something planned for us today” he shrugged, and you cocked an eyebrow at his smirk.

Your heart flipped hearing happiness in his voice, not wanting to revive what you’ve both been through during his last months at Chelsea. “You’re still a Lion, babe. What do you mean tho, what kind of something you have planned?”

“I got the day off, we’re visiting Portsmouth” he kissed the tip of your nose, unpretentiously picking up the plate behind you. “After breakfast, of course”

You rolled your eyes again, tickling his waist. “Go on, we all know you love pancakes more than you love me”

“Are you jealous you’re not my breakfast today?” he raised an eyebrow at you, giggling when blood rushed into your cheeks. You actually were jealous, being honest. “Don’t worry babe, I’ll save room for you”

You’re sure it will be a long day.

Sitting beside him with your cup of coffee, you brushed his hair out of his face. After months of begging, he finally accepted his famous prince hair back.

“Are you serious about driving to Portsmouth? It’s a really long drive and we would have to come back tomorrow already” you questioned. As long as you have a flexible work schedule, Mason has a hectic one and despite wanting a lil trip with him, you always want to make sure he’ll have enough time to rest too.

“It’s still eight o’clock babe, we can leave by nine, get there around thirteen and only come back tomorrow evening” he smiled, putting a huge piece of pancake into his mouth. “Since a lot of my teammates are going to their national team, Ten Hag gave the rest of us two days before we must focus on training again, and I wanna spend these days with you, uh?”

“Okay” you smiled, stealing one of his strawberries.

“Hey!” he falsely protested. “You should be stealing kisses instead of strawberries. Go pack your stuff, hun”

You tilted your head to the side, admiring his shining eyes. “Have you packed yours already?”

“About this…” Mason looked at you with puppy eyes.

“Fine” you chuckled. “I can pack them for you, but you’ll have to make it up to me”

“I’ll” he kissed your forehead before letting you go.

Mason was always terrible with packing, never knowing what he wanted to bring with him, so you didn’t complain. Your relationship has been 50/50 since the beginning and whilst you would’ve packed for him, he would be driving eight hours total for your lil trip.

Once you were upstairs again, you started to pick clothes and underwear for two days, smiling when your phone buzzled with a text from Mason, telling you to pack your bikini. He hates shouting when it’s not to his new game or to his friends. ‘For you, I only have soft words’ he said once.

Such a simp.

You did as he asked, imagining he would want to go on a boat ride. Mason loved those. It was like a picnic above water, he always set the boat with a lot of food and maybe some games, sometimes just the pair of you or with some friends.

It was always so nice. He’s been trying to teach you how to drive his, and you think you won’t get rid of it this time.

After a few minutes, Mason finished his breakfast and came upstairs to help you, folding the clothes you took out of the closet.

When you closed your shared tiny suitcase, he kissed your forehead and went downstairs to put it in the car whilst you changed from your pyjamas.

“I’m ready” you announced when you got downstairs, only to find a shirtless Mason. “Why are you still not wearing your shirt?”

“It’s quite hot today” he shrugged, putting his phone in his shorts pocket.

You stared at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “You’re not driving shirtless” crossing your arms when Mason only raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re not. Would you like it if one day I decide to drive only in a bikini? I’ll have to deal with girls staring your body the whole drive, fuck off”

Mason tried not to laugh at your little speech, but he always thought you’re funny when angry. “Oh, so you’re jealous?”

You rolled your eyes, pointing to the stairs. “Of course I am jealous, go get your shirt on”

“Give me a kiss first” he got closer to you, brushing his nose against yours.

You uncrossed your arms, hitting his chest with your finger. “You don’t deserve a kiss, babe”

“I’m getting one anyways” he smirked, grabbing your waist with one hand and heading the other to the back of your head.

You wished you could say you pushed him away, but you’ll never deny a kiss from Mason. It’s the kind of kiss who gets you relaxed, smiling and floating.

His tongue slipped through your lips, invading your mouth and making you sigh. He groaned when your hand found their way to his hair, holding you tight.

From one minute to another, you weren’t sure if you were still going to Portsmouth as he grabbed your ass, pulling you to his lap before squeezing harder, and everything inside you lit up.

You scratched his shoulder, and when his name fell out of your lips, Mason gently put you on your feet.

“Go to the car, babe. I’ll just grab a shirt” he kissed the tip of your nose and quickly left.

You remained standing in place for a few seconds, trying to recover from it. Mason can be a piece of shit sometimes, especially when he wakes up feeling himself more than usual.

You shook your head, used to it and his silliness, and went to his car. It’s a huge one and you always struggle to get in alone, so when he came back half a minute later you were still trying to jump in.

Mason slapped your ass really hard before helping you, laughing at your complaints.

The drive went as well as possible with you trying to keep your hands to yourself. You’re usually not that needy, but being in a small space with him for so long was always difficult. You could still feel the effects from his kiss earlier, his grip on your bum and his hands under your shirt.

You’re naturally attracted to him, the brown hair you’ve been begging for him to let it grow, the melted chocolate eyes, his lips that wouldn’t stay quiet for a second, being constantly bitten whilst he was concentrating on the road, so it’s always hard to keep your mind under control.

And not to say about how big he seems driving his huge car, flexed biceps and big hands pressing the wheel. You wanted him to hold you that way.

Mason caught you staring, turning his head to smile at you. “Saw something interesting?”

One of his elbows were resting on his window, his fingers stroking his own jaw. Cocky.

“Shut up” you rolled your eyes. But this side of him was your favourite, when he was happy and relaxed, feeling like the pretty boy he is.

You and Mason stopped after two hours to eat something and for him to rest, before driving for another two. You tried to work remotely, but the sight of his arms kept distracting you.

“My parents won’t be at home when we get there, they’re having lunch with Summer and Mila today” Mason told you, and you tried to look away from how he was driving with just one hand, hoping he didn’t catch you. “So we’re stopping to do groceries and go straight to my silly little boat”

“Bitch? He’s not little at all” you cocked an eyebrow at him, and Mason shrugged with a lil smirk.

“I like big things. You knew that when you accepted to date me” he chuckled.

Soon he parked at his favourite grocery in Portsmouth. After so many hours inside the car you were a bit impatient, so you didn’t wait for him to get on your side, opening the door and trying to jump.

But you always forget how huge Mason’s car is, and you almost fell. Luckily, your boyfriend was next to you already, holding you in place. “Careful, princess” he kissed your temple, and you almost felt embarrassed for practically falling, but the way he always speaks to you makes your heart melt every time.

He offered you his hand and you intertwined your fingers together, so Mason guided you through the grocery store, one hand on the cart whilst the other was holding yours.

It didn’t take too long since he knew everything he wanted, buying a few fruits, chocolate bars, juice cans and some natural sandwiches.

Obviously, the cashier wanted a picture, but it didn’t bother you as long as they were nice when asking him. You love to see how much his childhood city likes and respects Mason.

After he paid everything and you were back in his car, your boyfriend helped you get in before putting the bags in the back seat. The place he keeps his boat is not that far, and soon you were parked, helping him with the bags.

You wore your bikini in the car and headed to the boat, settling the snacks in your boyfriend's little fridge. It’s cute, just like him.

Mason tried to make you drive the boat to his favourite spot, and initially you got it, but it was so much funnier seeing him drive it that you gave up.

“I don’t know how to do it” you rolled your eyes, pecking his lips.

“You were just doing it!” he cackled but let you sit in front of him, taking off his shirt and getting back to drive it.

It was hard not to look — almost impossible, but in reality you haven’t even tried to, eating him with your eyes. Mason only made it harder by flexing his abs every so often, changing his position so you could look better and even putting his hand inside his shorts to put his bulge in place just because he knew you were looking.

When he finally found the perfect spot, the pair of you spent the whole afternoon eating sandwiches and fruits, and gossiping. It was the definition of a perfect day for you, being able to have Mason around for that long.

The weather was really nice, not a burning sun but warm enough to allow you to use your bikini, and your boyfriend even jumped in the water, ‘to refresh his spirit’.

When he came back from his swim session, Mason opened the can of juice, approaching where you were laid in the boat’s sofa and giving it to you before opening one for himself. “Cheers”

The sun started to set behind him and you smiled happily, changing to a sit position before hitting his can with yours and drinking a sip. “Cheers”

After finishing his juice, Mason took a lot of blueberries in his hand and sat beside you. “C’mere baby” he tapped his thigh and you got closer, putting your leg over his. “No, you’re not close enough” he huffed, making you laugh.

“You’re all wet, Mase” you shook your head, but he just laughed, eating all of blueberries at once.

“You usually don’t complain when I’m all wet” he tickled your chin, grabbing your waist and nimbly bringing you onto his lap. “Much better”

His cocky tone made you sigh. And also the way he grabbed you as if you weighed nothing. And the way he was looking at you. And, fuck, his not so innocent smirk.

“What are you smiling about?” you whispered, tracing the shape of his lips.

Mason kissed your fingers, loving the weight of you on top of him. “I have you where I’ve been wanting you the whole afternoon”

Your heart flipped and you shook your head, trying to hide a smile. “You could’ve just asked me before?”

“Teasing is funnier, you know” he cocked his head to the side, kissing your jaw before placing one of his legs in the middle of yours. “Just ride it” he flexed his thigh, one hand on each side of your waist. “I know you want to. I know how to turn you on and I’ve spent the whole day making sure you would be dripping for me right now”

You were taken aback by his words, trying to process what he told you before feeling incredibly turned on, everything you tried to ignore during the day hitting you with full force.

“You’re such a-” you sighed heavily, rolling your hips forward, slowly. Not that you didn’t want to, but knowing he planned this you feel so innocent. How did you not notice?

“I can feel it, you know” Mason chuckled, like the bastard he is. “You’re soaked. Just like I wanted”

“We’re in a fucking boat, Mason Mount” you whispered again, not being able to take your eyes off of him whilst the friction started to feel good.

He’s so hot, it must be a crime. How you’re supposed to maintain yourself composed when he’s looking at you like he could fuck you senseless all night?

He giggled again, stroking your waist and shrugging. “I mean, you know how much I love my boat. And you. And the only way this view could get better is if I got to see that lil face you make when you cum — fuck, is so hot” he groaned in delight, picturing every single time he guided you to it.

“Shut up” you stopped your movements to hid your face into the crook of his neck and Mason laughed, cupping your bum and giving it a squeeze.

“We don’t have to, babe” he kissed your shoulder, and you'll never get tired of how much reassurance there’s in your relationship. “But we know it’s a bit hard for you to resist me, tho”

There’s no way you could deny it, anyways. Mason is really hard to resist.

You pulled up your face to look him in the eyes before putting your weight on your knees and start rocking your hips against his thigh muscle again.

Mason held your gaze and let out a soft groan, squeezing your ass to help you with your movements.

His bulge was visible through his wet shorts, that were stuck to his body. You know he always gets turned on just by teasing you, and you don’t even need to touch him, so it was obvious for you that your boy was hard as fuck.

Gently, you pressed him with your knee hoping it would give him a bit of relief whilst you were moving. The way he let out a shaky breath made you smile.

Mason always likes to act cocky with you, teasing you during the day and feeling himself, but as soon as things actually starts then the roles are reversed and he’s putty in your hands.

His grip on your bum tightened, and your hands went straight to his hair, your chest pressed against his. Mason closed his eyes when you kissed the tip of his nose.

Sliding one of your hands through your bodies, you scratched his abs before groping his bulge through the fabric.

Mason cupped your face, starting a loving kiss. The chances of being caught were low, but never zero, and he felt chills down his spine when you decided to touch him properly, tucking your hand into his shorts.

His lips parted a bit when you pressed his tip with your thumb, and you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue against his.

When you broke the kiss and stroked his length, Mason groaned, whined and chocked all together, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

You looked down, pulling his dick out of his shorts. Your mouth watered at the sight of his hard, red and wet tip, seeming so sensitive, his veins turning you on even more.

“Oh, it’s so good” Mason cried out. “So good being touched by you after an entire day holding it”

You stopped riding his thigh, pulling his face by his hair so he would look at you. “You’ve been hard like this through the whole day?” you asked, biting your lower lip when he nodded.

“I kept trying to picture Ten Hag naked so my cock would hurt less” Mason said sheepishly, and you bursted into laughs.

One of the best things about dating him is that everything has this funny and lightweight aurea. Even sex.

“My poor boy” you stroked his jaw. Now his angrily red head makes a lot of sense. “I don’t want to cum on your thigh, babe. You deserve more than that”

“Fuck” Mason whined, biting his lower lip so hard that you thought it would bleed. He expelled more precum, and you know it’s due to your words and what he knows it will happens now.

“C’mon, I wanna ride you with the sunset behind us” you pecked his lips, trying to bring his wet shorts down a bit. Mason helped you, moaning when you took him in your hands again. “You’re so sensitive I might make you scream” you teased.

“You always makes me want to. I just happen to be good at swallowing my screams” he kissed your jaw, hands back in your waist. “But I think there’s no problem if I scream tonight, uh?”

“Pull my panties to the side” was your only answer while you grabbed his shoulder for support, your other hand still stroking him. Mason did as you asked, and you sighed deeply when he parted your wet folds. “I’m wet enough, Mase”

“Let me play a bit” he pouted, rubbing your clit. “Is this all for me?” he smirked, his cocky tone coming back whilst he slipped his fingers through your folds. You nodded, trying to maintain collected. “I know. I’m the only one who can make you drip like this”

You let out a pretty loud moan when he inserted two fingers inside of you, his thumb still paying attention to your clit.

He was always so good with his fingers, and his words always makes you ever wetter. When you started to move, Mason held your waist in place with one his other hand, taking his fingers off.

“C’mere” he silenced your protest, pulling you closer. “My dick is hurting as fuck”

“Sorry” you whispered, kissing his chin and lowering your body. “It will stop hurting now”

You teased yourself with his tip, enjoying the way his grip your waist tightened. “Babe, please” Mason whimpered, slapping your ass when you giggled. Your painfully pleasurable moan made him groan, and you finally guided him inside of you.

“Oh- Jesus” he cried out. You closed your eyes shut, feeling your thighs burn when he filled you completely. “Fuck, Y/N. You’ll make me cum so fast it’ll be embarrassing”

“It’s actually good to know I’m so hot I can make you reach it really quick” you tried to tease, but you were in the same situation. You could feel your cunt and Mase’s cock pulsing together before you started to move.

It was quick for both of you. The way your walls were clenching agaisnt him, so warm and velvet. The way his tip was pressing that soft spot every time you lowered again. The way Mason actually screamed your name when you changed your angle, putting your hand on his knees and arching your back.

You came first, instantly clenching and cumming when he rubbed your clit in circles, and he reached his own orgasm when your walls pressed him during yours.

It was pretty intense, and you rested your forehead agaisnt his, kissing the tip of his nose. “You’re alright, babe?” you asked gently, brushing his sweaty hair out of his face.

Mason let out a shaky breath and nodded, his shoulders slightly shaking from his orgasm. “You might not know how to ride a boat, but you know how to ride other things pretty well”

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount fics #mason mount smut

[jistagrams]

nct 127 reaction to being on a “sex ban”

warnings: not proofread, suggestive asfk, reader is a lil mean, jealous markkk <33, kinda mean donghyuck, oral(fem & male), unprotected sex(wrap it up!!), voyeurism???, lmk if I missed anything!! 💝

taeil: would be nonchalant about it but in reality he’s in SHAMBLES. no sex just because of a girl who he was not interested in poured him a cup of beer? doesn’t make any sense! “okay, no sex then” he spoke as if he was tired of the conversation, knowing very well he’s sad about not being able to fuck you. But you said he couldn’t fuck you, that doesn’t mean he can’t tease you. The next day he wore his grey sweats w/o a shirt knowing that made you find him very attractive. He would hug you from behind making sure you felt his bulge on ur ass, when you would go to the bathroom to shower he would be right behind you saying “it’s a way to save water babe.” While in the shower he would be painfully obvious at how he’s staring at your soapy boobs, “let me wash you doll” who could say no to taeil? And who could say no to the way he pressed opened mouth kisses leading from your chin to down your neck, leaving small bruises. Definitely couldn’t say no to how good it felt when he teased your clit. “taeil..no sex. Remember?” You whined out softly trying to stand your ground. “Oh I remember my love” he smiled at you when he entered your tight pussy. “what a dumb rule though. if you didn’t wanna come the next time we fucked you should’ve said that.” He groaned in between his words, setting a good pace.

johnny: would definitely just be okay w it, I mean you guys don’t really even fuck that much as it is. “got it! no sex for a week” he smiled at you, he did think it was quite dumb though. All because he ate your favorite food that you were saving for today?

well he was okay with it until he was randomly horny one day and using his hand wasn’t cutting it. So when you came home that day he practically threw himself on you. “What’s going on?” You asked between the kisses he was smothering you with. “I really need you yn. I don’t give a shit about that dumb rule right now.” you felt yourself clench over nothing at his words. “So needy” you sighed out as he lead you both to the shared room, already losing the top you were wearing.

taeyong: would be a little sad about it, like wdym he can’t love on you? That’s not fair :(. You would push him away any time he would get anywhere close to initiating anything sexual, he would pout n go to the bathroom to relieve himself there. Mumbling how mean you are on his way there. But since he respects you he doesn’t try any harder, during the week of his sex ban if he was horny he would give you a small kiss (a passionate and sloppy one) and either go to the bathroom or the room. That was until one day where you were the one to initiate something. You had just seen the baggu jeans mv and you couldn’t help but drool at how good your boyfriend had looked. So once he got home you sat him down to sit right on top of him, kissing everywhere while trying to take both of yours and his clothes off, “woah baby, what’s wrong??” he spoke to you softly, quite surprised at the sudden change of emotions. “Baggy jeans.”

yuta: would laugh in your face and kiss you on ur forehead before walking away still giggling to himself, “sure yn, sure.”

but was he so wrong. It had been at least 2 weeks since he had said that and there was still no sex, some small kisses, maybe even one small make out session but it led to no where. He was on the verge of cumming at any contact you gave him, you both were in bed as he felt his dick get harder as you kept moving trying to get comfy, your ass was right on his erection, you felt his hard on thinking it was just something in his pocket. “babe, u forgot something in ur pocket” u mumbled to him as u kept scrolling on your phone, he whined n held you close to him.he sighed out a no and put ur phone to the side, he started kissing your shoulder while grinding on you slowly, you finally realized that he was horny and in need, “no Yuta” you sternly said while he slipped ur shorts off and his boxers off, “you don’t feel good? Don’t wanna feel how good I make you?” He sweetly spoke as his slid in, “just one round..” u whimpered as he gave your shoulder a little kiss.

doyoung: would complain n whine to u saying “u can’t do this to him” , u rolled ur eyes and walked away, he thought you were just joking about it all, but after a week of no intimacy he was proven wrong. He fucking hated not being able to touch you, or even kiss you. “no doyoung” you wouldn’t even call him “babe” or “doie” and he hated it. He missed you badly he was going crazy, you were losing it as well. You had just seen baggy jeans and crop top he wore that slid up every time he raised his arms up showing his toned stomach was making you miss him desperately, but you had to prove him wrong. But when he invited you to hang out w him while he promoted baggy jeans you couldn’t help but drag him into the changing room and drop right onto your knees right then n there. “seems like I was right” he grinned slightly as he held onto ur hair.

jaehyun: “what why?” He would sit in front of you and hold your hands w his big doe eyes. Confused on why you would put him on a “sex ban” he didn’t even mean to talk to that girl, he was just drunk n thought it was you for a split second,

“cmon baby let’s get out of her- ooohhhhhh ur not yn” he slurred as he walked away from the girl who stood there in confusion.

[present]

“Babe i literally walked away from her as soon as I said that!” He pleaded with you while holding onto ur hands tighter, u roll ur eyes and get out of his grip. “you had your arm around her waist jae.” you sighed as u ran ur hand thru ur hair. “Babe I swear you guys were wearing the same outfit, I don’t love anybody but you ok?” He leaned forward to place a kiss on your lips. You didn’t move, he held you shoulders as he dropped u down to hover over you. “Jaehyun..” you sighed out as he started kissing down your neck, unclipping your bra. “Let me make it up to you..show u how much I love you.” He whispered into your ear.

jungwoo: would literally BEG. like you can’t take away his favorite thing to do :( . “babe please” he whined as he held onto you from behind while u washed the dishes. “No jungwoo. I told you to do one simple thing! but you couldn’t even do that.” You would have to admit. It was kinda petty but you didn’t care, you told him to not have his friends over while you were studying, was that so hard? But ofc he still had everyone over. So it lead to you failing the test you were studying for. “I’m so sorry baby I forgot you were studyinggggg” he dragged his words. you sighed as you ignored your overexaggerator boyfriend who was swaying you both side to side as he begged n pleaded. Well you tried. But it was impossible so you broke, Turning off the water and turning around. Still in his arms, “you want me to lift the sex ban? Then sit on that chair and don’t move a muscle.” He nodded and sat on the chair that was closest to him. You got on ur knees and pulled his pants down. “Your gonna be a good boy n let me do whatever I want ok?” He quickly nodded as you pulled out his dick.

mark: would awkwardly laugh about it and when u don’t start laughing w him he starts to realize you weren’t joking. “woah dude, ur srs?” He said as he sat up from the couch to go to the room to see you getting ready, “yes mark. No sex for Atleast 2 weeks” he gasped while putting his hand over his mouth. “2 weeks is so long yn. You can’t do this to me” he whined while dragging his gaming chair to sit next to you. You looked at him from the mirror n rolled ur eyes. “maybe act right next time.” He sighed n just looked at you. you looked like the hottest person on earth, the skin fitting dress you wore that captured all of your curves, the hoop earrings that added character to the outfit, the slicked back hair you had made you look so so beautiful to him, “you look hot” he whispered while going to kiss your neck. You slightly smiled at him and thanked him. “your going out like this?” He said as he leaned in more to deepen his kiss on your neck, starting to suck a specific spot. “with some friends , yeah” he hummed, “don’t leave a mark, mark.” He released the skin he had in his mouth and stared at the mark he had left, “should I leave a few more, so guys will know?” He said while looking at you, now placing his hand on your thigh.

haechan: would nod and walk off knowing he’s so sad about it, but he has a plan to make you crack before he does. He’s gonna yeast the shit outta you, so when the next morning hit he didn’t bother to get up n take care of his morning wood in the shower, he took care of it right next to you in bed. You woke up to small whimpers and whining, you sit up in bed and pull the covers off, gasping in shock when you see haechan jacking off w his phone in his other hand. He took a small glance at you then back to whatever was on his phone. “donghyuck wtf..” you halfway yelled, you weren’t mad. You were just in shock. “What? I had to get rid of it somehow.” He shrugged and continued, you wanted to help him, you really did but u remembered the night before you had put him on a sex ban and you couldn’t go over your word.

“hi yn” he said as he hugged onto you from the back, making sure his hard-on was noticeable to you, “hey” you replied back, trying to ignore his dick on your ass. He held you for a bit longer until he walked away mumbling about how he has to fix something.

It was week 2 and he still wasn’t backing down. Almost everyday you woke up to him jacking off next to you. It was driving you insane, so when he left to work you decided to release some stress by taking out a vibrator, but what you didn’t realize is how you got lost in time and how haechan was already home. He was walking into the room when he saw you moaning like no tomorrow, he slightly smirked at the view, “enjoying urself baby?”  he spoke out, you looked up and gasped. You still didn’t stop the toy though, already feeling too good to stop it. He drops his bag and comes to lay between your legs, holding your thighs as he takes off the toy from your clit and kisses the inside of your thigh, “let me make you feel way better than that toy, okay?” He smiled up at you. “Poor baby couldn’t handle her own ban, had to take out a toy instead of asking her boyfriend. Stupid doll, I’ll help you. But you won’t come till I say so, okay?” He said as he started to eat you out like a starved man.

#kpop #kpop smut #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct dream smut #nct donghyuck #nct dream #nct taeyong #nct winwin #nct jaehyun #nct scenarios #nctzen #nct mark #nct johnny #nct 127 smut #nct taeil #nct yuta #nctinc #nct #nct u #nct icons #nct smut #nct 127 hard thoughts #nct 127 hard hours #127

[qiupachups]

miles.g / wiles

.｡.+*☆ headcannons 👾💭

contents: general hcs, mention of his father’s death, i call 42-miles ‘wiles’, me sorta bullying him

a/n: after a lot of procrastination and harassment gentle encouragement from @vhstown i’m finally posting my hcs. :3c (they’ve been sitting here since july)

Despite his tough guy exterior and criminal career, he's actually a massive nerd geek. Like: gundham, comics, posters all over his room.

Until you bring up those interests, he won't mention them. But once you start a conversation about them, he can tell you all the lore front to back or tell you where and when each collectible is from. Just listening to Wiles and nodding along will make his day.

Accepting help from others is not an option. Ever. He's an overly D.I.Y guy since his father's death and it's staying that way.

... unless you're very close to him. Wiles will begrudgingly accept your help and then be adamant on repaying you. No matter how trivial it was, he'll show his gratitude through service.

Wiles has great memory and knows all the lyrics to his favourite songs. Go through his playlist and pick something at random- he'll recite them flawlessly!

A good memory also helps with remembering those flashes of songs playing on your lock screen. Just a split second glance? He's adding it to his playlist, maybe listening to it as he works on his latest gear.

Would be a straight A student if he were there half the time. The only thing keeping his total grades down is attendance, where he’s often absent.

However, if he’s in a group project with you, Wiles will put more effort into it. Getting a ‘C’ or GPA point lower is fine if it means keeping Brooklyn safer. What’s not fine is him being the reason for your lower marks.

Unlike his counterpart from 1610, Wiles’ art is more realistic. He tries to capture the subjects’ essence quickly and minimally, so colours are an afterthought.

Accuracy was his pride in art until it came to you. He’d be so nervous in getting your smile right, scribbling failed attempts over and over again. Wiles even resorted to a pencil sketch.

Following the passing of Jefferson, Wiles has gotten much closer to Rio. That’s a no brainer; he was fourteen— a kid. And Jefferson never got to see his son in that overpriced Visions uniform.

Wiles makes an effort to speak more Spanish. He lets his mamí braid his hair even if it hurts like hell. Those stupid telenovelas aren’t that bad on the second watch.

Once upon a time, Wiles used to be a choir boy (keyword: used). He’d love singing hymns and doing nativities before he could read; all for his mamí and dad to see.

However, the christmas after Jefferson’s passing felt… empty. Wiles quickly lost his passion for choir and now just attends mass with Rio at most.

After years of experience being a choir boy, Wiles has the voice of an angel. Not that you’d know, of course— he intends to take that to the grave. But there’s also a deeper, darker secret… he can’t rap to save his life.

An extremely personal and harrowing Musically comment told him so. Following that attack, twelve year old Wiles abandoned his account with only a black profile picture left behind.

Like any other middle schooler, Wiles had a hype beast phase (he denies it). When Aaron got a Hype shirt for Wiles’ 12th birthday, words couldn’t describe how he almost knocked Aaron down with a hug.

The shirt’s first stain had Wiles distraught and furiously searching ‘remove paint on shirt hacks’ on Youtube. His heart would probably stop if he misplaced a gift from you.

Wiles isn’t the best cook, but he can definitely make himself a good meal. With Rio working night shifts and Uncle Aaron doing… jobs, he has to be self-sufficient.

A secret lil’ side project: he’s trying and failing to replicate Jefferson’s mac ‘n cheese. It wasn’t the best, but it was his. Something’s always off when Wiles makes it and he’s not quite sure what.

Sure, cooking isn’t that hard, but baking is like wizardry to Wiles. AP Chemistry and it’s endless calculations felt way easier than making pan de agua with his mamí.

But, mamí didn’t raise no quitter! On a particularly busy birthday, Wiles pulled together a modest little cake for Rio. She burst into tears seeing the shaky ‘!Feliz Cumple!’ written in too-sweet icing.

Calling Earth-42 a wreck is a massive understatement. Shit’s like Gotham, only very real and very deadly. Just breathing in that damn city air makes Wiles’ skin crawl.

Luckily, he’s got an outlet: boxing. A fun hobby he picked up from Uncle Aaron became his release. Wiles might never be in the ring, but Brooklyn’s more than enough.

a/n #2: what the fuck. this was supposed to be short and silly and fun. exsqueeze me how did this… erm. disjointed mess.

#miles g morales x reader #miles g x reader #prowler miles x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #miles g morales #miles gonzalo morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles headcanons #atsv x reader #atsv headcanons #atsv miles #atsv x you #atsv fanfiction #chewy writes ♪

[yoon-kooks]

paw prints & presents | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: You and Jungkook never discussed Valentine’s Day plans, but that doesn’t mean the night won’t include corny Valentine’s cards and you getting down on your hands and knees in pretty pink lingerie for him.

⛓️word count: 2.1k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, dry humping, sex on the couch, handjob, blowjob, face fucking, cumshot, she swallows, oc makes another ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: here's a lil smutty drabble i wrote up for valentine's day! (you don't have to read the other p&p fics before reading this one)💖

You’ve been acting a little weird lately. Ever since February came around, you’ve been asking Jungkook about random shit like his favorite flower (lavender), his favorite romcom (none), his favorite day of the year (nonexistent), and his go-to boba order (you called him grandaddy for saying earl grey again). The most recent question was about his taste in lingerie (doesn’t matter because you’re hot regardless). 

But whenever he asks why you need to know these things, you just shrug your shoulders and pretend like you’re too busy playing with the cat to answer him. The way you always shush the kitten as soon as he enters the room leads him to believe the two of you are up to no good. 

It’s driving him mad.

At one point, he thought you might be sweetening him up for when you go behind his back and adopt another cat because “Lucy needs a friend” and “there’s a cute cow cat at the local shelter.” But something tells him you’ll save the cow cat shenanigans for another time. 

The thing is, he’s not completely clueless here. As much as he doesn’t want to think about it, he’s well aware that Valentine’s Day is around the corner. It’s not a day he typically celebrates, but he also doesn’t know how you feel about it yet. If it’s a big deal to you, he’d want to do something thoughtful to live up to whatever the fuck you’re secretly plotting. At the same time, the two of you still haven’t made it official, so perhaps you aren’t scheming anything related to the most romantic day of the year. Perhaps he’s just overthinking it…

…Or not.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, Jungkook comes home from class early and sees something he shouldn’t have seen. Your laptop is out in the open on his bed, but you’re nowhere to be seen—probably in the bathroom or something. He’s always been the kind of guy to respectfully look away from what’s on other people’s computers or phone screens. But it’s kind of hard to ignore the pink lingerie set you apparently just ordered. The lingerie you normally wear is a sexy black or a sophisticated neutral. But this baby pink one, with the tiny red hearts and bows, is way cuter than what he’s used to seeing you in. It’s giving submissive vibes, for sure.

The thought of you wearing that tiny thing on Valentine’s Day would automatically make February 14th Jeon Jungkook’s new favorite day of the year. And that alone is something to celebrate.

But how exactly is he supposed to celebrate? It seems you have your mind made up on surprising him with pretty pink lingerie, but what can he provide in return without being too cheesy? He’s terrible at shit like this. In fact, one of his exes broke up with him specifically because he wasn’t romantic enough. She wasn’t wrong, but it’s not like he’s going to rewire his entire brain to be romantic enough for someone else’s liking. Maybe that’s fucked up of him. Maybe a good partner would make sacrifices and force themself to change for the sake of the relationship if they truly cared. 

You’re different, though. With you, nothing feels forced. Rather, he gets an urge to do something nice for you, even if it goes against his natural tendencies. And right now, he wants to also surprise you with a little something on Valentine’s Day.

On the big day, he waits for you to leave for your afternoon class. That’ll give him plenty of time to put together the surprise. All he needs is some pink cardstock, markers, paint, ribbon, and a kitten.

As much as he hates cheesy Valentine’s cards, Jungkook finds himself pondering over what to write on the cardstock. Knowing you, it’s safe to go with something silly and funny. Thankfully, you’re an easy one when it comes to humor.

“Have a paw-esome Valentine’s Day, Mommy,” he writes in bold marker. You’ve been hesitant to call yourself the kitten’s mother despite raising her right alongside Jungkook. But it’s clear that you’re doing a good job. “Love, Lucy.”

He picks up the sleepy kitten, dips her paw pads into safe non-toxic paint, and adds her paw print to the bottom of the card like a signature. As the paint dries, he gives the kitty her first bath, blowdries her fur, and ties a pink little ribbon to her collar.

When the sun goes down, Jungkook rolls up the note and attaches it to the kitty’s ribbon like she’s some messenger pigeon. And then the two of them wait on the couch together, kitten loafing in the boy’s lap, for the door to open.

Five long minutes later, your keys jingle around as you unlock the front door.

“Go hide,” he whispers to the kitten who runs off into his room with a frisky tail in the air. She probably thinks he’s playing hide and seek with her like they normally do. Poor thing.

Jungkook makes himself comfortable on the couch again and pulls out his phone to look natural. Totally normal.

“Hi?” you say as soon as you open the door and see him sitting in the dark living room, his floating face illuminated by his phone screen. You hit the light switch as you kick your shoes off and look around for possible booby traps or jumpscares. It seems you’re very aware that the potential for a surprise is at an all-time high today. Then your eyes fall back on him. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” He scratches the back of his head.

“Like this.” You do the awkward pose thing people do when they’re very clearly failing to act natural. How do you manage to make even the most awkward poses look cute? Maybe your little black dress has something to do with it. You weren’t wearing that earlier when you left for class.

“What do you mean? I’m just here, sitting on the couch with my phone.” Damn, is it really that obvious?

“Ah, so you were here waiting for me to get back from class like a dog?” you tease as you climb into his lap and set his phone aside. Your new perfume is a sensual lavender (no wonder you asked him about his favorite flower). And your dress is so short all he can feel is skin when he grabs hold of your ass. “Don’t worry, I missed you too.”

You snake your hands around the back of his neck and devour his lips, his tongue, his taste. He’ll never get over the moans you make just from kissing him like he’s the finest dessert you’ve ever tasted. Or the way your tongue just laps him up like a kitten—

“Wait,” he says after forcing himself to pull back from your lips. The urge to put his lips right back where they belong is incredible.

“No, Jungkook, I don’t have any homework that needs to get done before we…” Your words trail off as you kiss him some more and roll your hips against his crotch. You’ll never let it go that he’s “the biggest nerd in the world” for always making you finish your homework before sex. Thank god you don’t have any tonight. Because his hard cock is already past the point of no return.

The secret Valentine’s card still needs to be delivered, though. And the poor kitten is still waiting for her daddy to come find her.

“No seriously, wait a sec,” he chuckles, lifting you off of him before walking into his room to scoop up the kitten hiding behind the clothes hanging in his closet. When he rejoins you on the couch, he passes the fluffball to you.

“Ooh, did daddy give you a bath? You look so cute,” You sniff her orange fur and find the rolled-up note tied to her pink ribbon.

Your face quickly goes from curious to smiley as you unroll the note and read the silly message. Jungkook reads it right alongside you as if he wasn’t the one who wrote it.

“Congratulations, it seems Lucy has accepted you as her mother figure,” he says in the straightest face ever.

“Paw-esome?? Mommy??” you giggle, turning to the boy whilst cupping his chin. “Is that what you think of me?”

“It wasn’t me, it was Lucy,” he shrugs. “Right, Lucy?” She meows in agreement.

Then he pins you down against the couch cushions and leans in to whisper, “You’re my baby girl, remember?”

Your face is flushed with color as you nod up at him. You grab a handful of his t-shirt and pull him in. He finds your neck and leaves a trail of little marks as your body heats up beneath him.

“I love the card, by the way,” you manage to get out between breaths. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t from me.” His gives you a few more kisses while running his hands along your dress. As hot as you are in that dress, he’d love to get his hands on everything hiding beneath it. “I didn’t even know today was Valentine’s Day.”

“Liar. You suck, you know that.” You pout for half a second before your horny eyes are showing again. “Guess you don’t want to see the surprise I have for you.”

“What is it?” he asks a little too quickly. He must sound like such a simp.

You sit up, leaning your tits against his chest, and say, “Undress me.”

Jungkook lifts the dress up and over your head to reveal the same lingerie set he saw on your computer screen the other day. Except now it’s on your body. And boy does it look good on you. It doesn’t matter that he already had a sneak peek at it and plenty of time to mentally prepare himself for this. He still can’t take his eyes off of his baby girl looking all pretty in pink. And he forgets to speak.

“What do you think?” You drop to your knees on the carpet and situate yourself between his legs.

“Hot,” is all he can say before you unzip him and get your hands on his hard cock.

“Good.” You wet your lips with a sly tongue. Your hands start stroking his length up and down as you eye his tip. “It was an impulse buy the other day when I was feeling so horny for your cock.”

“Do you need my cock that badly?” he asks, his breath getting rougher. 

You nod, licking your lips again. He’d normally make you wait a little longer before letting you give head, but fuck it. It’s Valentine’s Day, and his cock is his gift to you. You’re always begging to suck it anyway.

With a firm hand, he angles your chin up until his erection is staring you in the face. You wrap your lips around him and take him in until he hits the back of your throat. Your cute little gag doesn’t stop you from going right back in, bobbing your head back and forth, up and down his length. He decides to help by thrusting in and out of your throat.

When you stop to catch your breath, his glaze runs down your mouth. You make sure he’s watching when you lick it up and swallow before sucking him more. One of your hands grips his cock while the other travels down into your thong. He watches the way you rub between your legs and rock your body back and forth to pleasure yourself and him at the same time. 

You savor each and every drop of him as if it’s the last. Your lips glisten and swell with pleasure as you’re hard at work with his cock. There’s no way anyone else can look this good while doing what you do to him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, fucking your face faster. You moan something that sounds like his name, although it’s kind of hard to understand with a fat cock in your mouth.

At his breaking point, he pulls out and strokes his length until (most of) his cum sprays right into your mouth. You swallow it up while shooting him an awfully innocent smile. After catching his breath, he wipes up the bit of lust on your cheek and lets you suck it off his fingers. You’re such a good girl for him.

“You were so good, baby,” he praises you. You definitely need to be rewarded. “Should we watch one of those romcoms?”

“I thought you said you didn’t like romcoms.” You tilt your head. “We can find something else that we can watch togeth—”

“Pick your favorite romcom.” He shakes your suggestion off and lays you down on the couch so that you’re facing the TV. He hooks a finger on the strap of your thong and tears it off. With his lips just a kiss away from your wet pussy, he says, “I won’t be watching anyway.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook

[mrs-kmikaelson]

Our Song and Dance⁴

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: LONGGGG, descriptions of torture, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, violence, exploitation of minors, mentions of forced prostitution, very complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, death, grief, and some unhealthy coping mechanisms Words: 18.2K

Masterlist

a/n: since it's that time of year, i decided to give u guys a lil present. merry christmas and enjoy!!!

You had never felt so cold.

Growing up in a working home, you sometimes went through winter just hoping that your sheets would be enough to keep you alive, unable to afford a heater. In your first Games, you nearly froze to death, your matches being the only thing that saved you. Then once you had won and made it to the Capitol, you went through those cold nights with Finnick, sometimes hoping that you really would freeze to death, even if you never told him that.

Yet none of those times could compare to how cold you felt now. 

Cold as you were brought out of the Capitol. Cold on the hovercraft. Cold when they sedated you. Cold as you were wrapped in blankets. Cold as Finnick went to touch you. And now, as the doctors examined you like you were an artifact, you were still just as cold.

But you were an artifact, weren’t you? You were the Princess.

So it didn’t really matter how cold you were at all.

You had been transported from the open medical area to your own room. It was almost like you blinked and, just like that, you were in a different room. Like magic.

Even though magic did not exist. Not in Panem. Not in this world.

Someone named Boggs had come to see you, explaining that you were in district 13, a district that you thought didn’t exist for your entire life. This is the revolution, he said. He was meant to bring you up to speed, ease your confusion, but you weren’t sure that was possible at the moment. 

Throughout his explanation, you didn’t say a word, just staring up at him. This may have been seen as rude, but you weren’t doing it on purpose. You really didn’t know what to say.

He eventually left, not getting anywhere with you. From what you could tell, he had a lot more to deal with than just one girl. For a supposedly dead district, there was a lot going on in 13, but that wasn’t where your mind was.

Your body was in 13, but your mind was in the Capitol.

“Please, don’t-”

You closed your eyes, trying to rid yourself of these memories, but that only made it worse, images appearing underneath your eyelids. Your eyes quickly snapped open, darting around the room, your chest rapidly falling and rising.

You were in a bed. There was a desk, some chairs, a glass of water on the night stand next to you. The floor was white, tiled, not grey concrete. There were lights. You were in 13, where the lights were on, not in the Capitol, surrounded by darkness.

You’re alive, Y/N, you told yourself. But that didn’t seem to make anything better.

When did it ever?

You ran your hands up and down your arms, feeling new scars that hadn’t been there before, scars that could maybe heal one day, but you knew there were still open wounds you had that couldn’t be treated, open wounds that may never scar at all. 

You didn’t think the wounds you had right now would ever close.

Your heart was racing, beating so loudly that you could hear it, so you imagined it wasn’t yours at all, that it was Finnick’s heart that you heard. Though you supposed that your heart did belong to him.

Even though you didn’t want to see him.

Nevertheless, imagining him sitting with you and pretending to listen to his heartbeat was what calmed you down. It always would. In a way, that was the only thing about you that remained sure, the only thing you had left from the life you lived.

Because that’s what it was: a life lived. Y/N Y/L/N lived her life. For a time, she was happy. She fell in love. And then she died. Now… now, you didn’t know who you were.

What you did know was that you weren’t the same Y/N that Finnick knew, the same Y/N who’d fall asleep in his arms. Now, you weren’t sure you could fall asleep at all, not for long, never for long.

Johanna and Peeta’s faces flashed through your mind. Their screams still echoed in your head. They were different now, too. Johanna wasn’t so fearless anymore, and the golden boy wasn’t so golden. His bright gold had been captured by darkness, and you weren’t sure if any of you would ever see it again.

At that thought, you finally got up, ignoring the ache in your bones. You couldn’t just sit there. You couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t eat. You couldn’t think anymore- you wouldn’t. You had to see them.

You left your room, a nurse coming up to you right away. “Ma’am, please, you need to rest-”

“I’m fine.” Your voice was raspy and scratched at your throat, so you cleared it. You didn’t know what you looked like, but you knew it couldn’t have been great with the way the nurse was looking at you. “Could you please take me to my friend Johanna?”

Hesitance was painted all over her face, as well as fear. You didn’t know why; you weren’t in any position to fight. “I’m sorry, I- I can’t-”

You cut her off. “I just want to see my friend.” Annoyance laced your voice, but if one listened closely, they’d also hear the desperation. You needed to see her, you needed to see someone familiar, someone that wasn’t there just because you were their responsibility, someone that wasn’t the boy you loved.

Her mouth opened and closed for several seconds before she responded, “I- she’s with a counsellor right now-”

You sharply inhaled, blinking and seeing Johanna, hearing her cry. When you opened your eyes again, you only saw the nurse staring at you anxiously, expectantly. You ran a hand through your hair. You needed to see someone. “Peeta then,” you said. “Take me to Peeta.”

Her fright seemed to increase. She looked at you like you weren’t in your right mind, which was right, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. There was something else in her expression, like there was something you didn’t know, something she didn’t want to tell you, but she nodded, anyway, agreeing.

This nurse was young, kind, and even a little naive. If you were in your right mind, you’d feel more empathy for her, be more compassionate or soft, but you weren’t. Your mind was in all of the wrong places all at once.

She reminded you of the nurse you had in the Capitol. She wasn’t there to ease your pain but to keep you alive, make sure you didn’t bleed to death so that you could go through the whole routine all over again the next day. She looked at you like that, too, like she was scared of you, even though you were the one that was powerless, even though you were the one on the brink of death.

Now you weren’t. You’re safe now, Boggs had told you. You didn’t say anything in that moment, but what you wanted to say was that he was wrong.

You’d never feel safe again.

When the nurse brought you to Peeta, Katniss was also there, but she didn’t notice you, staring through the glass of a white room. There was a blond boy in that room, strapped down to the bed.

But this boy wasn’t Peeta.

He wasn’t Peeta at all.

“Y/N?”

You turned away from the sight in front of you to the voice that called your name. The voice belonged to none other than Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the 50th Hunger Games and second Quarter Quell, but you knew him better as the man who drank his sorrows away until he couldn’t remember all that’d happened to him.

You nodded in greeting, but didn’t speak. He looked like he had more he wanted to say but held it in as he glanced back at the room, a young blonde girl entering it and carefully going to sit on the bed.

“She’s too close,” he remarked.

“It’s okay,” someone else responded. You turned and saw a greying man on the other side of Katniss, recognizing him immediately as opposed to when you first met him. Plutarch Heavensbee.

You glanced to Haymitch who was already looking at you. He glanced at the Gamemaker then nodded to you. Whatever he was trying to say didn’t fully translate, and you didn’t understand why this man who had caused so much pain was standing right next to Katniss like it was nothing, but for now, you still remained silent, choosing to let it be.

Throughout this interaction, Katniss had practically been none the wiser, eyes fixed on the inside of that room. When you redirected your attention to the scene, you realized why she was so focused. You still recognized the blonde girl from the reaping, even though it’d been over a year since they took place.

Primrose Everdeen.

Yet little Primrose never went into The Games. Her sister took her place. This was Katniss’ sister.

We live in district 13 now, she told him, her voice soft, soft enough to tell you that even though she was surrounded by war, her childhood was still there. It’s a real place. Stories are true. A pause. You were rescued.

Peeta didn’t look fazed by what she was saying, his attention on something else entirely. The look in his eyes was contained, but you saw it. Anger. My family hasn’t come to see me, he said, but he was talking to himself more than he was talking to Prim.

Family.

You saw your mother’s face in your mind, but you weren’t sure if that was still what she looked like. The last time you saw her was a year ago, her face stricken with grief, tears leaking from her eyes.

She hadn’t come to see you, either.

And you realized it was probably for the same reason Peeta’s family hadn’t come to see him. 

At that realization, anything else Peeta or Prim said fell upon deaf ears. You couldn’t hear a thing, your song playing in your head on a loop, dancing so fast that the world blurred and you couldn’t see a thing.

Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing-

“Y/N.”

The call of your name cut through the music, making you turn your head to see Katniss staring at you. You glanced around; Haymitch and Plutarch were gone now, so was Prim. It was just Peeta on the other side of the glass, kicking and yelling, people in scrubs going to sedate him.

You actually looked at her now, noticing the purple marks around her neck that matched the bags underneath her eyes. She looked different now, different from the last time you saw her in person and different from when you saw her on TV.

The Girl on Fire looked like her spark had been extinguished. 

And, suddenly, she reminded you of yourself now more than ever.

You nodded to her and then turned to walk away, but her hand caught your wrist. Like a reflex, you yanked it away, spinning around to face her. She muttered a sorry under her breath, making you inhale.

“It’s fine,” you replied, your voice quiet. She couldn’t be blamed for how you could no longer handle touch, neither could Finnick. You felt guilt wash over you as you heard his voice cracking in your head, remembering how you didn’t say a word to him.

He’s fine, you told yourself. He has Annie. 

Your thoughts were diverted away from him and back to Katniss as she spoke. “Has anyone explained it all to you yet?” This was a question, even though her voice was monotone while she asked it.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, thinking back to Boggs. “Yeah- um, a little.”

She looked at you like you were a puzzle and she was rearranging the pieces in her head, using what little energy she had. “Did they tell you?”

You furrowed your brows. You were just as if not more tired than her, your mind all over the place, too all over the place to understand what she was asking you. “Tell me what?” You questioned.

She didn’t respond right away, still looking at you as if she was trying to figure you out. Her eyes told you this story; however, her expression was blank. You’d seen snippets of her videos, not in full, never in full, but even from a snippet, you were able to see that look.

The way a victor looked.

When you met Katniss, you thought to yourself that she hadn’t been under the spotlight long enough to have been burned.

But with the spotlight they had on her now, she’d gone up in flames.

After a beat, she ceased her mental debate and decided to speak her thoughts. “I think we should talk.”

And she may not have known it, but what she told you may have just changed the course of your life.

Katniss took you to her room, sat you down, and with her raspy voice, she explained your situation to you. I’m The Mockingjay, she said. And they wanted you, too, Y/N. They wanted the Princess of Panem and The Mockingjay to be the voices of this revolution.

You stared at her wordlessly as she went on, just listening. To her, you must have looked crazy, listening to everything she said without any reaction whatsoever, but you knew that Katniss had been dancing long enough now to read you, too. 

You were mind-blown. She was telling you that they wanted you to be a voice for the people, but wasn’t that so ironic? Your voice had been on mute for years. You were silent as you were used in the Capitol. You were silent as they made you go back and take everything from kids, kids just like you. Even when you thought you were about to die and had so many things to say to the boy that you loved, you didn’t say any of it.

How could you ever be a voice?

They chose the wrong person. Katniss was good. She was good at being The Mockingjay, good at saying the right things, and great at being a voice for Panem. But you? You weren’t cut out for this.

Why would she tell you this? This revolution had been well-planned and was proceeding fine without you. Why would she tell you this- why now?

You cut her off mid-sentence. “Katniss, what exactly are you trying to tell me?”

She paused as if she didn’t know the answer, either. Her red eyes glazed over and, for a few seconds, you both sat in silence. You thought she wouldn’t say anything until she looked back up at you. This time, her eyes were full of light, like she’d just realized she held the key to all she ever wanted, all you ever wanted.

And, in a way, she did.

“Hope,” she breathed. “I’m telling you that I have hope for a better world.”

A better world. 

Once, you had hopes, too. You hoped that your kids would make it through The Games. You hoped that you could be loved back by the person you loved. You hoped that you could one day mend your relationship with your mother. You hoped that you could be happy.

But each of these hopes were crushed until nothing remained but disappointment.

You didn’t have any hope left.

After Katniss’ declaration, you sat silently before eventually leaving without saying a word. 

She was so young. Sometimes, you forgot that. She wasn’t a child, but she was supposed to be. She was supposed to have a childhood, not the weight of a country resting on her shoulders.

But you’d carried the weight of the crown for years now.

You knew better.

You abandoned the idea of hope as soon as you dived off that pedestal in The Games, and then it abandoned you for good the second you woke up in the Capitol. 

There wasn’t any hope left, not for you.

You got back to your room, ignoring your nurse who opened her mouth to speak to you but ultimately didn’t say anything, letting the door close in her face. It wasn’t personal. There were too many different people on your mind to think about her, so many words you said and didn’t say floating around, things you did and what was done to you.

You didn’t want to be awake anymore, to think about these things. Sometimes, nightmares offered more relief than your real life ever could. 

But as you went to go lie down, you suddenly stopped, seeing something on your bed that hadn’t been there before. It was a sleek black box, one that wasn’t so common back where you were from but became an everyday custom after you won The Games. You picked up, clicking the side button and watching light shoot of it and project an image in front of you.

For a moment, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped.

Because that image that the box projected was of Finnick Odair.

It was a video shot here, in 13, similar to others you’d seen, but you’d never seen this. This was the first time you saw him on camera since before the Quell. And this was also the first time you’d looked into his eyes since you left that night.

Even if you weren’t really looking at him.

Finnick was always charming, the corners of his lips always quirked upward. He had mastered this façade- oh, Finnick knew how to dance, dance around all of the hard topics, dance around everything that was wrong with your lives to make you seem like the perfect happy couple, like victors.

But he didn’t look like that in the video.

He looked solemn. And maybe even a little scared.

No matter his appearance, you could’ve never expected the words that came out of his mouth, never from Finnick, never from one of you, from a victor. But he still said them.

Your mouth fell open. For the first time since you arrived in 13, you let tears fall down your cheeks, though you didn’t know if you could stop them, even if you tried. They burned on their way down, rubbing salt into the bruises you could see and the bruises you could never fix.

May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.

The box in your hands clattered to the ground, the video cutting out as you ran to the toilet, but Finnick’s voice still echoed in your ears. You threw up what very little you had eaten, head spinning.

Dancing, dancing, dancing.

This song didn’t sound right anymore. This dance didn’t feel right anymore. You were so tired of dancing- you just wanted to stop.

But Finnick hadn’t stopped at all.

Finnick was still dancing. Katniss was still dancing. Peeta, Johanna, every single person in Panem was now dancing with you. They knew now. They could hear the music, too. And who would save them?

You had wished for years and years that someone would pull you off the dance floor, that someone would make it stop. There were so many people that knew, so many people that just let you endure it- let you all endure it. How could you let any more people endure anything close to that?

You couldn’t stand on the sidelines and watch as everything burned to the ground. No, you wanted to help them set fire to the Capitol and burn Snow alive.

Hope. I’m telling you that I have hope for a better world.

You may not have had this hope. There was no better world out there for you.

But you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make one for every kid out there that cried and prayed their name didn’t get called at the reapings. 

You would not get to live in this better world.

But you would make it in memory of the younger you that could have.

You later found Katniss again, telling her that you’d do it. You left out the part about how you sobbed for hours at the recording you knew she left you because that wasn’t what was important right now. You were not important right now.

This was about something much bigger.

She took you to Coin, who cleared the room at the sight of you, a surprised expression on her face. “Ms. Y/L/N, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She stood up, shaking your hand, glancing at Katniss periodically before looking back to you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you sooner-”

“It’s alright,” you cut her off, trying your best to pull your lips into a smile. You had barely been in the room with her for a few seconds, but there was something about this woman that threw you off.

Katniss explained her story to you, how she was a widow, how her entire family died in a day. You sympathized with that, but Alma Coin did not remind you of a widow in the slightest.

She reminded you of the people you saw in the Capitol.

Clearly, she sensed the tension, giving you a smile and letting go of your hand, beckoning you both to sit. You sat down in the chair across from her, surveying the room, looking at the blueprints and papers sprawled everywhere. Your attention was drawn back to the woman when she spoke.

“So, how may I help you? I know adjusting to life here must be hard for you. But I will be here every step of the if you so need it.” You opened your mouth to speak, but she kept going, “You are an incredibly strong young woman. I cannot imagine what it must have been like to live through those Games, nor could I imagine what it must have been like within the walls of the Capitol.”

No, you couldn’t, you thought, but you didn’t say that. Instead, you gave her a stiff smile, hoping that all your practice faking it could make it look believable. It seemed that President Coin had some practice faking it, too.

However, you cut straight to the point. “Madam President, I want to help the rebels in any way that I can.”

Her mouth fell open slightly, as if that was the last thing she was expecting. She looked to Katniss again, like you were out of it. And maybe you were, but so was The Girl on Fire. So were all of you.

It wasn’t fair of her to treat you like glass because, the truth was, she was right. You went through The Games not once but twice, and then you were immediately thrown into the Capitol, facing horrors that you weren’t sure you could ever speak aloud, horrors that flashed before your eyes every time you blinked, even as you sat across from her.

But you were. You were sitting across from her. You were ready to do something.

You may have just been pulled from the Devil’s clutches, but you were ready to walk through Hell all over again if it meant you got to kill him.

Katniss didn’t waver. “So do I.”

Coin’s hesitance was easier than expected to spot. For someone who wanted to lead Panem, she surely wore her heart on her sleeve. Or maybe you had just gotten too good at this dance that you could spot anyone’s slightest misstep. 

Slowly, she cautioned, “You both are going through a lot right now-”

The brunette sharply cut her off, “That doesn’t matter.” Your eyes were trained on Coin, but if you stole a glance at Katniss, then you knew you would’ve seen the fire in her eyes. In a way, she hadn’t changed at all since the last time you saw her.

And you wished that was true.

“Send me to the Capitol- send us to the Capitol.” Underneath her demand was pleading. “I’ll do anything.”

Coin brought her hand to her mouth, an indent on her finger where her ring was supposed to be yet no ring in sight. “I can’t.” But she wanted to. “I can’t send you there. We can’t get into the Capitol until we control district 2.”

“Then send us to 2,” you spoke up, her eyes moving to yours. There was some emotion in her eyes, pity or fear, you couldn’t tell, but you didn’t want to know what you looked like to find out. “I can fire up your troops, call out to the loyalists. You’ve seen what The Mockingjay can do, and I don’t doubt that you know what I am capable of.” You paused. “Let us win this for you, Madam President.”

She was silent for a moment, continuing to stare at you as if she was waiting for you to break, to do something that showed her that you weren’t capable of this, but she wouldn’t get that opening. You wanted this more than anything, and you would stop at nothing to get it.

Finally, she blinked, and you knew you had her.

“It would be an honour.”

You didn’t tell Katniss, and you certainly didn’t tell Coin, but a part of you was relieved that you weren’t going back to the Capitol so soon. You just left, and yet it felt like it had both been a world ago and just yesterday.

You didn’t know if you could handle it so soon, going back there. You could barely even handle looking at Finnick.

It wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. You could never blame him, never for this.

How could you blame him when picturing his face was what got you through it?

How could you blame him when the only reason you survived was to find out if he was still alive?

They told you he was dead. They played his screams on a loop until you couldn’t tell that they stopped. His screams now blended in with the music so well.

Oh, you loved him. You loved him so much more than you could ever express. And maybe that’s why you never told him, but now you knew it was for the best. Finnick was strong, and beautiful, and he had a long life ahead of him with the woman of his dreams. You weren’t gonna get in the way of that.

You knew that you’d never truly be happy without him.

But you also knew from experience that he’d never be happy with you.

These were the thoughts that filled your head on the hovercraft. Even as he was nowhere in sight, his face was still all you could see.

He was here, too. You knew he was. Katniss told you beforehand. She didn’t know the whole story between you two, but she still told you. She had no idea how grateful you were.

You were hiding from him. You accepted the fact that the two of you would never get a happy ending, but that didn’t mean that you were ready to see him, knowing that. If you looked into his ocean blue eyes, God knew that he’d only pull you in and drown you in them.

You couldn’t do that.

It wasn’t fair to him.

It wasn’t fair to Annie.

It wasn’t fair to you.

And it wasn’t fair to all the people that were depending on you.

Suddenly, your thoughts were cut off the sound of footsteps came your way. You looked up, letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw it was just Haymitch.

He nodded to you. “Princess.”

You held back a scoff as he sat down next to you on the floor. “Haymitch.”

You still remembered when you met him. He was one of the first people to actually speak to you after you won your Games. For some reason, the others were too “intimidated” by you, but Haymitch didn’t have much left to be scared of, not when he went into an arena with 47 people and was the only one who walked out.

What you couldn’t remember was the last time you had an actual conversation with him, or at least the last time you had a conversation and he was sober.

“How’d you find me?” you asked, but your eyes were still trained on the floor. He didn’t seem to mind.

“I hang around here sometimes, go through the boxes and see if there’s anything medicinal in ‘em,” he responded, making you chuckle.

If he was looking for something medicinal, then you weren’t such a great replacement.

“Well, sorry you couldn’t find what you were looking for.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shake his head. “No, I need to be brought back to reality, anyway. And you, uh, you do a good job at that.”

You snorted, sensing the compliment was backhanded, even if he didn’t see it that way. Or maybe he did, but Haymitch was never one to hold his thoughts in. “Why, because I’m so fucked up?”

“No.” A beat of silence passed. “Because you remind me of a human’s will to live better than those Games ever did.”

You finally looked up, seeing that he was already looking at you. The sincerity in his eyes was so strong that it burned into yours, making you look away before it burned just enough to spark tears. “I don’t think I’m the best example of that.”  

His reply came quick, like he didn’t even have to think about it, but he had no idea how much you would after he said it. “You’re still standing, aren’t you?”

Aren’t you?

You didn’t say anything after that, nor did you look at him, and he didn’t force you to. You spent the rest of the ride pondering over his words.

You thought of every painful thing you ever went through. The Hunger Games. Being sold. The Quarter Quell. The Capitol. Falling in love.

You went through all that, and you were still here. You were still standing.

Weren’t you?

Or were you just waiting for the right moment to fall?

Your thoughts were halted as you felt the hovercraft come to a stop, realizing just how long you’d been thinking. You both stood up, going to leave this room. Like most real conversation you’d had with victors, you thought you both would just pretend it never happened, but right before you were about to enter the main ops room, he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. This time, you stopped the flinch before it could happen, looking up at him.

Haymitch Abernathy was not a soft man. After being cut so many times, his edges were jagged and sharp, but looking at you in that moment, he looked more than just soft. He looked sorry.

He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure to say what he wanted to say or not, something unusual for him. He seemed to have made up his mind, telling you, “Stay standing, Y/N. There are still people out there that can’t do that by themselves.” Then he paused, eyes glazing over.

“Show them that they can.”

Getting off the hovercraft, damage surrounded you. The once pristine nature of district 2 was gone, replaced by devastation, rubble everywhere. If this was district 2, then you couldn’t imagine that any of the other districts were any better, that your district was any better.

Your mind was drawn back to your mother before you shook it away. You couldn’t be thinking of that right now.

A man in black attire carrying an assault rifle greeted you. Not a Peacekeeper. But a chill still went down your spine.

You couldn’t really tell if it was because of the soldier or if it was because you felt Finnick staring at you.

He wasn’t far behind you, in the row behind you and Katniss with Boggs and Gale. You tried to ignore it, but that proved to be harder said than done.

Katniss carried her bow in her hand while a sword was strapped to your belt, lightly hitting your leg as you walked, but you got used to this feeling during your first Games. In a way, it was almost comforting, even though it never should’ve been, even though weapons should’ve never been comforting to a child so young.

But you weren’t a child anymore.

In your hand, you carried a crossbow, Beetee’s special arrows on your back. The sword was really only there for show. This wasn’t The Hunger Games; no, this was a very different and special game entirely.

This was war.

You wouldn’t be getting up close for combat very often, so a crossbow made more sense, but after The Games, weapons started to hold sentimental value, both for the victors and the viewers that watched them. For Katniss, it was her bow; for Finnick, it was his trident; and for you, it was your sword.

Suddenly, as you were making your way to the Justice Building, a bomb went off, shaking the ground and making you spin, your grip on your bow tightening. Your heart was beating rapidly, but Corporal Homes wasn’t fazed, even letting out a little laugh. “Don’t worry. It’s just how the loyalists say good morning.”

You let out a shaky breath, holding the bow tighter to try and stop your hands from trembling. You shut your eyes, trying to calm down, but all that did was bring you right back to the Capitol. Your eyes quickly reopened, but when they did, they met those ocean blues that you’d been trying to avoid.

Your body went rigid. It begged you to look away, but you couldn’t. You were pulled to him like a magnet, a magnet that scraped against you, a magnet that nearly stopped your heart with how strong it was, but no matter how much it hurt you, fighting against it was useless.

Concern swam through his eyes, along with another familiar emotion you couldn’t pinpoint. It had been so long since you last saw him, since you last really saw him. Maybe that was why you couldn’t decipher it.

But, really, it felt like no time had passed at all.

“Are you okay?” God, and his voice. How was it possible that his voice could both fill and create a hole in your heart at the same time? It was both quiet and loud, both sure and uncertain, and caring in every sense of the word.

So warm but made you feel so cold at the same time.

You just looked at him for a few seconds, as if you were hypnotized, until you realized you needed to respond. You nodded, afraid that your voice would crack if you tried to speak.

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but a hand came to your shoulder, yanking you out of trance. You turned to see Katniss, glancing between you both for a second before her eyes rested on you. She nodded towards the building and the rest of the crew who had walked ahead of you. You nodded back, walking away from Finnick without another word.

How did we get here? you wondered. 

We’re gonna be fine. Look, whenever you get nervous up there, you just hold my hand, alright? You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.

He was right there. He was still right there.

But the difference between then and now was that you could no longer just hold his hand.

He was right there.

But you were still alone.

Once you had put some distance between yourselves and Finnick, Katniss whispered, “I’m sorry.” You turned your head, but her eyes were directed in front of her. “That looked personal.”

“No, it’s fine,” you assured her, and then you left it at that. Because, truth be told, you were grateful for Katniss interrupting you. You weren’t sure you would’ve ever walked away if she hadn’t. But you did. And now you had bigger problems to worry about than your love life, if you could even call it that.

You finally made it into the Justice Building, being greeted by both Commander Lyme and Paylor. While they lived in higher ranks, they were still soldiers. You appreciated how they cut right to the chase.

You and your squad from 13 stood around a table projecting a hologram of district 2’s mountains with at least a dozen other soldiers, more littered throughout the room with Coin on a TV in front of you. 

Lyme started, “President Coin, we’re indebted to you for the reinforcements, the Princess, and the Mockingjay.” She glanced at you. “But I’m not sure that anyone outside of 2 knows what we’ve been up against.” She pointed at the hologram. “This is The Nut. The Capitol’s headquarters for all offensive operations. It’s manned by both military and civilian personnel from district 2.” She then continued to explain what all more or less knew, that it lied so deep beneath bedrock that it was untouchable.

“Yesterday, we attempted to take the northeastern gate. The enemy countered from higher up and we were forced to pull back.” She momentarily looked down, her mask of a stone cold commander falling and showing the human behind it. “We took heavy losses.”

Another commander spoke up. “Could we create a decoy? Send troops towards one gate, launch a staggered attack on another.”

Paylor didn’t miss a beat. “Whose troops do you propose as a decoy, Commander?”

Although the question was not directed towards her, Coin still responded, “We have the Mockingjay and we have the Princess of Panem. Do not underestimate their influence. We could use them to erode support, sway some of the loyalists.”

“You’ve been underground a long time, Madam Coin,” Lyme said. “This isn’t like the rest of Panem. Support for the Capitol runs deep here.” And why wouldn’t it? When the oppressor had done just about everything but oppress you, then how could you see the oppression happening everywhere else?

Coin quickly retorted, “Then there is no sacrifice too great.” Her voice was like that of a widow: soft enough that you could tell what she’d been through but firm enough for the exact same reason. 

No sacrifice too great… but wasn’t there? 

“We need to control the arsenal inside that fortress. Even with every district in this alliance, we are outgunned.” All twelve other districts could band together, but without 2, none of you stood a chance.

No sacrifice too great.

“I won’t commit my people to a ground assault just to pillage weapons.”

“Commander Paylor, your people have suffered more than just about anyone else at the hands of the Capitol.”

“Which is why I won’t condone a mass suicide.”

“If we don’t take district 2, we won’t get into the Capitol.”

For the first time since your entrance, you spoke up. “What if we don’t have to take it?” You felt everyone’s eyes on you but yours remained focused on the hologram in front of you, unblinking as if you weren’t there at all. 

And maybe you weren’t.

Lyme responded, “What are you proposing, Ms. Y/L/N?”

What were you proposing? You couldn’t be sure. But you knew what you needed, and that was this war ending in Snow’s final breath.

No sacrifice too great.

“What if we don’t need The Nut to win?” You looked up. “What if we could take it away from them instead?”

Gale seemed to be the only one who caught onto what you were saying, or at least the only one willing to speak it aloud. “We could disable it, trap them inside or flush ‘em out.” He continued, gesturing the hologram. “If we can’t attack straight on, then couldn’t we use our hovercraft to strike around it? We’ll use the mountains; we’ll hit weak spots in the peaks.”

“We could design the bomb targets in sequence using seismic data.”

“Trigger avalanches,” you muttered just above a whisper, imagining it in your head. Something like this happened in The Games once, one of the years you were mentoring. It was catastrophic, akin to a bloodbath. It was a miracle there was even anyone left alive to fight for a victor’s title.

You wondered if Finnick thought of this, too, but you didn’t dare look over at him, looking back to hologram and trying to block the images of blood and terror from your mind.

But as you stood there and spoke about war, you didn’t know if that was possible.

Not when the war in your mind had still yet to be won.

“Block all exits, cut off their supplies. You make it impossible for them to launch their hovercraft.”

Paylor had a look of realization on her face. “Bury them alive.”

“We’d forfeit any chance to control the weapons-”

Beetee cut Coin off, “Yes, but we’d face a weakened Capitol.”

“There’s civilians in there,” Boggs interjected, stoic but any hearing person could hear the compassion in his voice. Civilians. Is that what they were?

You were a civilian too, once. Then you were a tribute, a pawn, a victor, the Princess. Did civilians still exist? What kind of civilians could support the Capitol? What kind of human beings could support the torture you were subjected to, the torture people in the districts were subjected to on a daily basis?

You wondered if your mother was given the courtesy of a civilian before the Capitol took her life.

You weren’t.

“They should be given a chance to surrender. Could use one of the supply tunnels for the evacuees.”

“It’s a luxury we weren’t given when they firebombed 12,” Gale said, as if he were reminding you, as if any of you needed a reminder.

“There’s gotta be a better way.” You were already so focused, but if you were losing attention in any way, Katniss brought it back, the disbelief in her voice audible to everyone in the room. She glanced in between Gale and you, but she didn’t get whatever response she expected of you.

Katniss may have had hope for the good of humanity, but you didn’t have that. The Capitol took that away from you without a second thought. She may have been driven by hope, but you were driven by anger.

There was no sacrifice too great.

“I suggest we try the avalanche, but leave the train tunnel alone,” Coin decided. “Civilians can escape into the square, where our armies will be waiting for their surrender.”

“We should have every available medic standing by.”

“And if they won’t surrender?” Lyme challenged.

Coin’s lips almost formed a smile. “Then we will need a compelling voice to persuade them.” And a voice was something she had.

The Mockingjay and the Princess, two sides of the same coin. Heads or tails, luck was on the President’s side either way.

You tuned out after that, letting everyone else talk logistics. Throughout the entire conversation, you didn’t hear Finnick say a word. He was perhaps the most talkative person you had ever met, and yet now, he had nothing to say.

He only looked at you the whole time, like an artifact.

And even as you walked away, you still felt the cold burn of his stare.

You watched from a broken window of the Justice Building as the hovercrafts started, rubble blowing in the wind. The sight was magnetic, pulling you in to look at it. It was almost beautiful.

This world could’ve been beautiful.

You wished that this dance could have been more beautiful before it made your feet bleed.

You watched as the hovercrafts danced in the sky before dropping bombs on the mountains, dancing to the sound of explosions and then to the sound of cheers around you.

Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing-

“This isn’t right.” A voice brought you out of your trance. You turned to see Katniss, her eyes on the scene outside the window, as mesmerized as you were. But mesmerized wasn’t the right word. She was stricken by horror.

Oh, if she saw what happened to you that could make you ever justify this. If she saw what happened to Peeta to make him hysteric. If she saw what happened to Johanna to make her numb. If she saw, then would she still be so transfixed then?

If she saw, would she still be standing?

If she saw, would she understand why you still were?

You stared at her for a moment, contemplating if you would say any of this before deciding against it, turning back and monotonously replying, “It’s fire catching, Everdeen.”

She scoffed, “And we’re lighting the match.”

Sharply, you countered, “Don’t forget that the Capitol poured gasoline everywhere first.” You turned back to see her already looking at you. A sigh left your lips. “They did this, Katniss.”

“And so anyone that had anything to do with it deserves to burn for it?”

No.

Yes.

“Did we deserve to burn, Girl on Fire?” You caught her off guard, anger slipping through the cracks of your voice, resolution filling your eyes. “Did we deserve to burn in those reapings, in those parades, in those damn Games as they all made a spectacle of it? All those kids and their families, did they deserve to burn just because the Capitol saw fit?” She was silent, tears coming to her eyes that she refused to let fall, so different from that girl you were with in the arena yet the exact same. Your eyes burned, too. “The way I see it, we’re fighting fire with fire.” You scoffed. “At least we’re giving them a way out.”

You didn’t stick around to hear Katniss’ response, walking away to find whoever would tell you what do next. You could’ve stood by that window for the rest of the night, watching as the terror unfolded, but you had more important things to do than watch the fire.

You had to go light a match.

You examined yourself in the mirror blankly. You were donning a black costume, and a costume it was. Because what was a costume if not an impersonation of something you were not?

But someone thought that this was what you were. Someone thought that you could be a leader. Cinna did—or at least that’s what Effie Trinket told you. You didn’t know why she seemed to be in charge of “design” or why she showed such an interest in you, but you supposed it wasn’t so unusual for an artifact.

Your makeup artists did their jobs fabulously, painting your face until you were almost unrecognizable, until you looked like that girl from before The Games, that girl that the people of Panem knew and loved. With this makeup, you couldn’t see the circles under your eyes, the discolouration of your face. They made you look alive again.

On the outside, at least.

On the inside, you weren’t sure if there was any makeup that could repair the damage that’d been done.

Your hair had been braided into an updo, like a crown. They tried to give you back your necklace, the one Finnick gave to you before The Games, but you never wanted to see that necklace again, never wanted to see a rose ever again.

You would hate the smell of roses for the rest of your life.

“It’s time.” You looked away from your reflection to see Haymitch standing at the door. You nodded to him, glancing back at the mirror one last time before exiting the room. Katniss fell into step with you both as you made your way toward the train tunnel, but remained silent. You didn’t speak, either.

Soon, you were joined by the rest of your Star Squad, but you avoided any and all eye contact with Finnick. It’d be a shame to cry and ruin all that beautiful makeup on your face.

It’d be a shame to feel something right now when you felt so numb.

But you’d quickly be feeling a lot.

“Don’t worry, Katniss. There’ll be survivors,” Boggs tried to reassure. She glanced at him, but didn’t respond.

Haymitch was more concentrated on what you came here to do. “Let’s focus on what it is you gotta say.” He looked in between both of you. “Now, Plutarch wrote a speech that either of you can read-”

“No,” you both simultaneously said, briefly glancing at each other.

Haymitch sighed, throwing the cards to the side. “Okay, didn’t think so. Let’s, uh…” he stopped you both, standing in front of you. “But just remember you’re talking to everybody. Not just the rebels, but the Capitol, the survivors in 2. We want them to lay down their arms. So you- both of you might wanna experiment with a little sensitivity, warmth.”

They have the upper-hand, that’s what he was really saying. But you understood how this worked. You’ve danced this dance a million times already.

“Don’t worry, Haymitch. I know how to fake it.” He looked over at you as if he wanted to say something, but Boggs spoke before he could.

“Make it quick, you’re exposed.”

Katniss walked toward the tunnel first, turning once she was far enough to face the rest of you. They decided that she would go first. She had been at this for a while now, much longer than you.

You’re lucky, you know.

How so?

You just are.

Maybe the Katniss Everdeen that you met in the training centre was lucky, but this one, the one who shot an arrow at the force field in the Quarter Quell, the one who became a symbol before she could even blink… you weren’t so sure that this one was so lucky. Not anymore. Not in this world.

Luck didn’t exist in this new world.

“This is Katniss Everdeen, speaking to all of the loyalists from the heart of district 2-”

“Survivors! Inbound!”

The sound of the train’s horn became audible to you, its wheels screeching against the train tracks. Boggs went running for Katniss while a hand grabbed your shoulder. This time, you couldn’t hold back the flinch.

“We need to go, Y/N.” And then your body went rigid. 

That was your name.

That was your name coming from Finnick Odair.

You didn’t even notice when he moved so close to you.

You swallowed, nodding, but it was like your feet were cemented to ground. You couldn’t move. If you moved, if you turned around, then you’d be looking right into his eyes.

Oh, there was time when the only thing you wanted to do was stare into his eyes all day. And maybe the problem was that you still wanted to.

You closed your eyes, inhaling a shaky breath, and when you opened them, the survivors were jumping off the train, being forced down to the ground, guns pointed at them, loud noise everywhere. Suddenly, you couldn’t take your eyes off of what was happening, even as every bone in your body begged you to, even as your head spun.

Finnick’s hand was still on your shoulder, but neither of you moved. None of you did. 

Another man jumped off, looking disoriented, but what drew your attention to him wasn’t his appearance but the gun in his hand. The grip on your shoulder got tighter. 

“Drop it! Drop your weapon! You! Drop it,” Boggs shouted, aiming his machine gun at him as he moved in your direction. “Drop the gun! Drop it-”

Suddenly, a gun went off, and everyone was screaming. You ducked down, eyes frantically darting everywhere before they settled on Katniss, running towards him, yelling. Your eyes widened, a wave of déjà vu passing over you as you remembered this exact scenario in the Quell, Katniss running towards danger and you running after her.

And just like that, even though you were paralyzed by fear, you quickly shot up, running after her without a thought. “Katniss!”

“Y/N!”

“Stop! He needs help!” She screamed as you were about to reach her. The next moment happened too fast for you to grasp it, the man jabbing his gun at her chin and cocking it. You skidded to a stop where you were, your breath catching in your throat.

Boggs was shouting, but your ears rang. It was almost as if you could feel that barrel on your own skin, and maybe it was because you had.

Snow’s voice rang through your head, Tell me about the rebel plan, Y/N.

You’re gonna have to kill me first.

Oh, sweet girl. He had knelt down next to you. I will make you wish that you died in that arena.

The man’s voice shook you out of your daze. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t shoot you.”

“Drop the gun!”

Katniss was silent, staring right into his eyes, but you saw what was behind the brave façade she was putting on. She didn’t have a reason.

“She can’t.” His eyes went to you, widening as if he hadn’t realized you were there. You stepped forward, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. Inside, you were shaking, but on the outside, you were calm and collected. On the inside, you were just a tribute in this game, but on the outside, you were the victor that everyone had crowned you.

“We blew up your mine. But you burned her district to the ground- my district to the ground.” You stepped closer, your resolve hardening. “So I guess we both have every reason to want to kill each other, but, really, does that make sense?” You asked, not looking away from his eyes once.  “You know who I am. You know who she is, and I can bet that you know a few of the people standing behind me. So many people that the Capitol has rooted for, that you have rooted for- why would we be doing this? After the riches, and the glitz, and the glamour, why would we fight back against a system that has supposedly given us everything?”

Because they took everything from you first.

You took another step closer, putting your hands up when he jabbed the gun in Katniss’ neck. “Look around you.” He quickly glanced around before his eyes fell back on you. “Are these the people you want to kill? The same people that you cheered for?” Slowly, your hands fell. “Why are you fighting us? Why are you fighting the rebels? You’re neighbours. You’re family.”

He looked up at you for a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. In his eyes, you could see evil, chaos. But you also a sliver of humanity, and you prayed to God that you reached past the chaos to the humanity. You prayed to whoever would listen that he heard you. And, maybe, for the first time, the universe was on your side, because his gun slowly lowered to the ground.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Katniss was stuck in a trance until you pulled her up, but you weren’t so focused on her. Your eyes panned over the people, your people and the loyalists alike, but they were all just people, you realized.

They were all just people.

“There is no our side or your side,” you yelled, backing away from the man and facing everyone. “There is only freedom and captivity. These people are not your enemy.” You turned, facing the rest of the crowd. “We all have one enemy. And that’s Snow.” Tears gathered in your eyes. “He does not care who you are or how loyal you are, how important you are—to him, we are all just pieces in a game.”

You pointed to your people behind you. “Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Finnick Odair, Peeta Mellark, Annie Cresta, Johanna, Beetee, Enobaria- we are all that is left from three generations of victors. The rest of them are dead.” The faces of those that you killed flashed through your mind. “Slaughtered in the Quarter Quell or killed in the aftermath, it’s all the same. They were murdered by the Capitol—and it didn’t matter how important, or loyal, or loved they were- their lives were ended like they didn’t mean a thing.”

“And they would do the same to any of you if it benefit them.” You shook your head, raising your voice. “Stop killing for him.” You paused, breathing heavily. Your fight was not with people in the districts. Your fight was with one person and one person only. It was time that everyone else saw that. “Tonight, turn your weapons to the Capitol. Turn your weapons to Snow.”

Before you could say another word, gunfire erupted and you were falling to the ground.

And then your vision went black.

“Please, I don’t know anything,” you sobbed, fighting against your restraints, but it was no use.

Snow tutted, coming out from the shadows in which he hid. “Oh, Y/N, I wish I could believe that.”

Your body shook. “Please, I’m telling the truth, I don’t know anything about a revolution.”

“And yet all of your comrades did?”

You rapidly shook your head back and forth, worsening the pounding in your mind. They kept telling you about an uprising, but you didn’t know what they were talking about. They said you knew, but you didn’t know. They said that Katniss knew, that Peeta knew, that Johanna knew, that Finnick knew, but they couldn’t have.

You didn’t know.

You didn’t know where they were.

You prayed that Finnick was safe, but if he wasn’t, then you prayed that he was dead. You’d rather him be dead than ever face what you were facing now.

“They didn’t. I didn’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Snow looked at you silently for a few moments, and you had no idea what he was thinking. Then brought his hand up. You flinched, but his hand only went to your hair, petting it. The look in his eyes was almost something like pity, you realized, but it wasn’t real. You didn’t know how long you’d been there, wherever you were, but in the time you there, you learned that President Snow was incapable of sympathy.

You even thought that he enjoyed this.

“Oh, my dear princess… I would’ve hoped that you would’ve learned to be honest with me by now,” he sighed, and then he took his hand away and looked away from you altogether, looking to the Peacekeeper that’d moved to the wall. “Again. And let’s be a little more… effective this time.” He moved to walk away, and you shook your head.

“No, no- please don’t- please, please- no- no!”

You shot up, panting, your hands digging into blankets. Your eyes darted around the room and you realized you were back in your bed in the medical centre. A hand was placed over yours and you immediately shuffled away, your eyes going to the person and meeting blue, concerned orbs.

Finnick held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” Your chest still rapidly fell up and down, but for some reason his presence calmed you down and put you into a panic all at the same time.

Only Finnick could do that to you.

You closed your eyes, blinking the remnants of your nightmare away, even if that nightmare wasn’t a nightmare but rather just the life you so happened to live. You’re here, Y/N. You’re alive.

But why?

“How am I alive?” you croaked, looking down at the dull bed sheets instead of into his eyes. It was funny: you looked down to avoid the blue of his eyes, but the colour of these sheets was so similar. 

What’s your favourite colour?

It’s blue, not really dark or light either. Sort of green- it’s close to grey, too.

Now that colour just made you want to cry.

Finnick didn’t say anything for a moment, as if he was shocked that you were even speaking to him. And you were, too. You hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, and if you went back to the last time you spoke, back in the arena, you would’ve never thought that this was how it would turn out. Even if you went back to just your first days in the Capitol, you still could’ve never imagined a reality where you didn’t speak to Finnick.

But you could’ve never imagined any of this happening in the first place.

If you went back to the night you met him, you could’ve never imagined how deeply you’d fall for this boy.

And you never could’ve imagined how much it’d hurt when you hit the ground.

Finnick’s voice was low when he finally spoke. “You were shot back in 2. But the bullets were stopped by your costume. Cinna made sure that it was bulletproof.”

Cinna.

The way people spoke about him, in the past tense, the way you hadn’t seen him anywhere. You’d figured that he was dead.

You wondered how many more people would die for this revolution before you could all be free.

“The doctor says you sustained minor injuries, bruised rib, bruised lung. But nothing worse than the injuries you came back from the Capitol with.” At that, you turned your head to face him, meeting his eyes immediately. His eyes were soft but almost hard. He was almost looking at you the same way he did after you volunteered for Annie. In his eyes, you saw care, confusion, sadness, some anger, and emotions you couldn’t name, but most of all, you could see the pure exhaustion weighing him down.

He stared at you for a few seconds, or maybe a few minutes, maybe longer than that—time didn’t seem to exist. “Why would you do that, Y/N?” He whispered. And in that moment, you knew you weren’t talking to the Prince of Panem, the victor of The 65th Hunger Games, or the soldier who wanted to build a better world.

You were just talking to Finnick.

And that scared you.

Your breath hitched.

Why would you do that?

Finn-

Why would you volunteer?

Because you had to.You volunteered for Annie because you had to, the same way you did what you just did because you had to. To you, there was no choice, only one path to follow.

“I did what I was meant to do, Finnick.” Even as you willed it not to, your body betrayed you, your voice cracking on his name, but this time, you kept eye contact. And even though you were talking to Finnick, the Finnick that held you at night and soothed you when you cried, your Finnick, he was not talking to Y/N, not the Y/N that he held and soothed.

That Y/N could not talk to Finnick, not this Finnick.

If she did, you didn’t know if you’d ever get her back again.

He was shaking his head before you even finished speaking. “No, you could’ve died.” I’m already dead.

“But I didn’t.” But I did.

“But you almost did!” You flinched as his hands went up in the air, and then he froze, freezing you with him. You flinched. You flinched like he was gonna hit you, and he saw that. You cursed yourself immediately, wishing you could take it back as the look that encompassed his eyes became hurt.

There were few times when Finnick ever looked at you like that, and you could remember each as if they just happened. You never wanted to see that look on his face again, to be the reason for that look.

Time stopped again. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to apologize, but you couldn’t find the words. And before you could, time picked back up. Finnick’s hands fell down to the bed, and he looked away from you, lowering his voice. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

Tears welled in your eyes. He didn’t know what he was saying. “You could have the world at your fingertips, Finnick.”

“There is no world for me if you’re not in it.” He looked back at you. And you couldn’t tell if your imagination was playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn there were tears in his eyes, too. “You’re my world, Y/N.” And just like that, any hope you had of remaining invulnerable shattered and the dam you were trying to hold in your eyes broke, tears falling down your face.

You shook your head, silent sobs wracking your body. Did he have any idea the effect he had on you? Did he have any idea what he was doing to you? “Why are you saying these things?”

Something akin to a scoff left his lips. “Because it’s true-”

“No- no, they’re not-”

Finnick latched onto your hand, making you look right at him. This time, you saw tears trailing down his cheeks, and they seemed so real. “Y/N, I swear to you on everything I believe in that I’m telling you the truth.”

You wished it was the truth. You wished that this was real. You had been wishing that your pretending could become real for ages now.

But you’d danced this dance long enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.

Even if Finnick had convinced himself that it would.

“It’s impossible.”

“I l-”

“Ms Y/L/N?” You both turned the source of the new voice, finding your doctor at your door. She glanced between you both carefully as you ripped your hands away from Finnick’s, wiping at the tears that’d fallen and the ones that continued to fall. “May I speak with you, please?” She requested, glancing at him.

He quickly stood up, but this time, you weren’t looking. “Yeah, I’ll, uh- I’ll head out.” He paused for a second, like he was waiting for you to say something, but you weren’t sure that you could continue to speak to him right now, even if you wanted to. When you remained silent, you heard his shoes pitter-patter against the ground as he made his way out of the room.

When he was gone, you exhaled and Dr. Terren looked back at you. She hesitated, “Did I… interrupt something?”

“No,” you breathed out. “Nothing important.”

She nodded after a beat, getting right into her medical talk, but she didn’t look so convinced.

And you weren’t sure that you were, either.

You were hit bad, the doctor said, but it could’ve been worse. And she was right. It could’ve been worse.

You didn’t feel a thing. Lung, ribs—all you felt was heartache. Maybe it was good that you couldn’t feel the pain. But you couldn’t be sure.

She kept pushing the same idea: therapy. That’s where Johanna was. That’s where Peeta was. But that wasn’t gonna be where you were. Terren kept talking about trauma, about how this near-death experience called for you to talk to someone, but really, what good would that do?

Would that therapist understand? Did they go through what you went through? Did they understand what you were going through? You didn’t have time to stop and talk about your feelings, if you could even sort them out into words, nor did you want to reminisce over anything that happened while you were in the Capitol.

Even if reminiscing was all you could do. 

When Terren left, you ripped the IV out of your arm, leaving your hospital room to go to the other room they gave you. At least that one wasn’t filled with your favourite colour.

Your room in 13 was grey, like most things here. It was drab, but you wouldn’t complain. Anything was better than the Capitol. The door to your room slid open, and then you stopped. On your floor was the same black box Katniss left you, the same one you watched Finnick from.

Poison.

You swallowed, deciding to ignore the box altogether and go to your ensuite. You never wanted to see that video again. Watching it from that box was the first time you ever saw it, and it would be the last.

They must have gone through extra effort to hide it from you in the Capitol. They made you believe he was dead. You believed this was such conviction that, when you saw him again after the rescue, you thought you were dreaming.

You even thought you’d died.

You even wished you did.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, dead is what you looked like. That bullet may not have killed you, but you still looked like a corpse. You’re very lucky to be alive, Y/N, Dr. Terren told you. 

Luck.

If luck was what kept you alive, then it wasn’t good luck at all. Luck would’ve been that bullet puncturing like it was intended to.

Your hand went to your ribs, looking at the bandages wrapped around them in the mirror. Then your hand travelled to your hair. Long and silky, so sought after in Panem. But as you ran your hands through it, you didn’t feel its softness. All you felt was Snow’s hand, petting you as you begged him not to kill you.

And then that turned into you begging for the exact opposite.

You don’t know how long you were looking at your reflection before you were opening and closing the sink drawers, your hands moving with a mind of their own. Part of you didn’t know what you were doing, but another part of you must have as you suddenly stopped, having found what you were looking for.

Scissors.

You picked them up, staring at them as if they were treasures, watching the light glare off the blades. You didn’t know what you were doing.

All you knew was that this feeling was tearing you apart.

And that’s all you could focus on.

Suddenly, your hand holding the scissors was moving. You still didn’t know what you were doing, but before you could find out, your name sounded.

“Y/N?”

You looked up, seeing Katniss stand in the doorway, confusion on her face that slowly contorted to fear. She glanced down at your hands, making you do the same. Quickly, you moved the scissors away from your wrist, unknowing of how they even got there.

You looked back at Katniss, your mouth opening and closing. You didn’t know what to say. Finally, you stammered, “I- I-” she looked back up at you and you realized that she, too, didn’t know what to say. “My hair. It’s- I want to cut my hair.”

That’s not what you were doing.

Katniss seemed to know that, not looking convinced in the slightest. She was quiet for a few moments, eyes on the scissors before she was walking towards you. Gently, she pried them out of your hand, as if you were a child holding a gun.

Then her eyes met yours. The eyes that were once hard as stone now looked at you with softness. “I’ll help you,” she whispered. She nodded to herself, repeating, “I’ll help you.”

You were grateful for her going with your story, even if it was just because she didn’t know what to say to what she really saw. She moved behind you, exhaling and getting ready right away.

And she may not have known this, but in just her walking in, she had already helped you more than you could’ve ever helped yourself.

Muffled chatter came to your ears as you sat in one of the common areas. Most people ate in the cafeteria, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in there. Finnick was in there, along with Katniss, and you couldn’t really talk to either of them right now.

With Finnick, you didn’t know where you stood. He said so much to you in your hospital room, after you were shot, but you didn’t know what to make of any of it. He was talking to you like you were more than just fake lovers—and truth be told, that’s what you were. You may have forgotten that for a while or pretended for too long, but it was fake. The dance changed every so often, but at its core, it was the same.

Finnick was acting like this was a dance you engaged in voluntarily, like this was a dance he enjoyed dancing. While you had no one you’d rather dance with, you knew it wasn’t the same for him. You saw the way he looked at Annie; you saw it for the entirety of your “relationship.” He looked at her with such tenderness and care, like she put the stars in the sky. The second you saw her, the second you saw the way he looked at her, you knew that you didn’t stand a chance.

But for some reason, in that hospital room, you almost felt like he looked at you that way.

And that didn’t make sense.

That didn’t make sense at all.

Another part of you didn’t want him to see you like this, not again. Katniss did, and you weren’t ready to see her so soon, either. It was a weak moment, you told yourself, but you were fine now. You were here for a reason—you were still here for a reason.

Show them that they can.

You didn’t have hope, but you were still the hope of so many people, the hope of Panem. You weren’t gonna let them down. You were not going to stand by and let Snow’s reign of terror continue. 

You made a pact with yourself. As Katniss was cutting your hair, you promised yourself that you would see this through. Afterward, it didn’t matter what happened, but you would fight until this country was free. 

Even if you died for it in the process.

“Looking good, Princess.”

Your head shot up from your tray and, for the first time since you arrived in 13, you felt a smile arise on your face. “Johanna.” Your tray was pushed to the side as you stood, wrapping your arms around her.

“Easy. I hear you’re injured.”

“I’m fine, Jo,” you reassured her, pulling away. She mirrored your smile, a sight you never thought you’d see again after what you heard in the Capitol.

“You always are, aren’t you?” She retorted. You only continued to smile, opting not to respond. She must’ve seen your discomfort—of course she did, she knew you so well—so she changed the subject. “It’s good to see you.”

“Ditto,” you responded, even if it was a little untrue. You loved Johanna. She was the first person you looked for when you got to 13, and seeing her right now made you so unbelievably happy, a happy you didn’t anticipate feeling for a long time, but it wasn’t good to see her like this.

She had always put on a brave face, was always so much stronger than you, but right now, she looked like she was barely holding on. Her eyes were hollow, bags underneath them that matched yours. Her face was pale. And the beautiful red streaks that had once filled her hair, the hair that she loved, was now gone. It was all gone.

The Capitol took it just to show her that they could.

And even though you cut yours out of your own will, they still took yours, too.

Eventually, she sat down with you, resting her head on your shoulder. Before, when things were bad before they got worse, you’d sit together in the Capitol, you, her and Finnick, and you’d pass time together, just like this.

Except Finnick wasn’t here.

However, you convinced yourself that it was for the best.

Annie. He had Annie. You volunteered for Annie, got yourself in this position for Annie, so that he could have a life with her, the life he always wanted. He may have denied it, or maybe he didn’t know that you knew, but some nights, he’d dream about her, talking in his sleep. He wanted to marry her, to have kids with her.

He could do that now. This is what you did this for, so that he could have his happy ending. Even if it meant taking away yours for good.

Like she was reading your thoughts, Johanna muttered, “How come you aren’t in the cafeteria with prince charming?”

You stiffened, but you still knew how to dance this dance, deflecting, “Why aren’t you?”

She lightly chuckled. “Good point.” She didn’t answer, even though you knew the reason why, just as she probably knew the answer to her question. You expected her to drop it, but you supposed you should’ve known better from Johanna Mason. She was silent for a few moments until she spoke again. “He loves you, you know.”

You sighed, “Jo-”

“That boy loves you with all he has, Y/N.” She lifted her head up from your shoulder, making you look at her. “Always has, still does.”

Oh, Finnick and you were incredible. You made the masses believe that the love you shared was real- he made them believe it. You didn’t have to do any work. It wasn’t acting for you, but you knew it was for him.

Not even Johanna knew that it wasn’t real. She might’ve suspected, but for all she knew, you two were really in love. You wished that was true. For years, you wished that was true.

But your wishes rarely ever came true.

“It’s not that simple,” you said.

She slightly tilted her head. “Isn’t it?” Her words echoed throughout your head. Isn’t it? It should’ve been. In a different world, maybe it was that simple. In a different world, maybe the two of you really were as in love as everyone thought you were. In a different world, maybe all those wishes and all that pretending could’ve been a reality.

But that was not this world.

So you didn’t say anything, instead resting your head on her shoulder this time,  conveying your thoughts to her without speaking them.

I wish it was.

You lied on your bed in silence, staring up at the plain ceiling and imagining patterns of your own. Back at home, the ceilings had colourful swirls on them, muted tones swooshing together. But that wasn’t really your home. The home you came from didn’t have pretty designs or fancy furniture. The home you came from had paint peeling off the walls. The home you came from didn’t have furniture at all.

But that wasn’t really your home, either.

At some point, you think, that place was something like a home. When your dad was still alive, you’d wake up every morning to the scent of food cooking in the kitchen, even if it was only a bit. But then he died, and there was no one to buy food at all.

That year, you barely ate a thing.

The next year, you picked up the slack. You could still remember it, being ten years old and finding your father’s hunting gear. Going into the forest, you were scared. You didn’t want to harm an animal.

But you did.

And then you did it every time after that.

When you came home, you saw the way your mother looked at you. Somewhere inside of her, something cracked. Somewhere inside of her, she saw something that you couldn’t. And, after that, she started looking at you a lot less.

Five years later, you were sent off to The Games. You could remember seeing your mother in the crowd, but when you got into the Justice Building, she wasn’t there. You waited. And she never showed. But you held your tears and told yourself you had to stay strong, for her, because she couldn’t.

You thought about her in the arena. You thought about her when you picked up that sword. You thought about her when you took your first life. You thought about her when Bay died. And you thought about her when Claudius announced that you, Y/N Y/L/N, had won the 67th Hunger Games.

Was she watching? you wondered. Is she happy?

When you got back to 4 and opened the door to your house, her jaw fell. Like she didn’t know. Like she was shocked. Like she never thought you’d win at all.

Like she didn’t want you to.

Mom, I- I won. Did you watch?

Silence. I watched. I tried, I just- I couldn’t watch you kill after that first- that-... The boy. A boy your age. A boy you stabbed into. A boy who you watched bleed out. A boy whose blood was on your hands–and with the way your mother stared at you, you almost felt like the stains were still there.

And they might as well have been.

She hugged you. But it didn’t feel like she was doing it because she missed you. It felt like she was doing it because that’s what a mother is supposed to do. They’re supposed to hug you–they’re supposed to love you.

But you weren’t you anymore.

You moved into the new house together. Then, soon after, you were moving into Finnick’s, leaving the house to her. You think she was relieved, relieved that she wouldn’t be sleeping in the same house as a killer.

And now, as you lied on this rough bed in 13, there was no house at all. No old house, no new one, no Finnick’s house, no district 4 at all. No mom, either.

What was the last thing I said to her? you wondered. Why can’t I remember the last thing I said to her?

Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t even remember when you last spoke to her. Your own mother. She was the woman who gave birth to you, the woman who raised you. Yet you couldn’t remember the last time you were in the same room.

And now you’d never be in the same room again.

A burning grew in your throat, but you didn’t let the tears fall, blinking them away. You’d cried an ocean of tears already. Now wasn’t the time to cry anymore. Now was the time to be strong. 

You never wanted this. You didn’t choose this, to be princess of a country that only abused its citizens, a country that threw you to the wolves then claimed they loved you when you came out seemingly unscathed, a country that wouldn’t have loved you so much if they knew just how scathed you were.

You did not choose this. But, for some reason, it chose you. The people chose you. The people believed in you. They believed that you were some sort of hero, coming to save them all from this villain that had hurt them all so badly. They didn’t know that it wasn’t true, that you weren’t a hero. They didn’t know that you were scared of the villain, too.

But if the people in the districts could believe in you, the people being bombed and attacked, the people grieving the loss of their loved ones–if they could believe that, then you could, too.

If the people of Panem believed you could be a hero, then you promised yourself that that’s what you’d be.

“So I changed the chemical compound of the powder, adding more fluorine to excite the electrons, causing them to jump more rapidly from orbital to orbital and ignite faster as-”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Beetee paused, like he was surprised that you couldn’t understand. To him, it was so simple, but to most people, like yourself, it had no meaning. “Chemical reaction,” he reiterated. “I increased the strength of the chemical reaction so you can hit more.”

Your mouth formed an O shape. “Makes sense. That’s all you had to say, y’know.”

His mouth opened, likely to say something sweet and snarky as per usual when the two of you spoke, but he was halted by the door to the armory sliding open. You both turned to see The Mockingjay making her way into the room.

Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment before you regulated it, calming yourself down. You hadn’t seen Katniss since she walked in on you in the bathroom. The way her eyes met yours told you that she remembered that day well, too. But if you knew anything about Katniss Everdeen, it was that feelings were not her strong suit. If you knew her as well as you thought you did, then she’d pretend it never happened.

You hoped she’d pretend. If you knew Katniss as well as you thought you did, then she was just as good at pretending as you.

“You wanted to see me?” she queried, directing her vision to Beetee. A breath left you.

“Yeah, I wanted to show you both your new arrows. I adde-”

You cut him off, “He did something to the chemicals to make the arrows better.”

“Reaction. I increased the force of the chemical reaction.”

“Same difference.”

Beetee took a deep breath, closing his eyes and then reopening them. “Since you’re so… well-versed, you can explain it to her.” You snorted at his response while he wheeled away. Beetee always had the ability to make you laugh, even if it wasn’t his intention.

When you looked away from his retreating figure, you were met with Katniss staring right at you, realizing she was still in the room. Her brows furrowed, a light, light smile on her face that would otherwise be invisible to a stranger. “I’ve never seen Beetee get so… irritated.”

The tension in your shoulders dissipated as they shook with your laughter. Nobody had seen him get annoyed often, unless you were around. “Yeah, that happens when you're stuck in the Capitol with someone for years on end.” 

Beetee was always a pretty good friend. You met at a Capitol function, of course, and from then on, you made it a point to annoy him whenever you could. Besides amusing you, it also served as a reminder that he was a human, too, not just some Capitol pawn.

Snow didn’t sell Beetee, but he used him in so many other ways. You and Finnick were their pride, but insiders knew that Beetee was their prize. He was perhaps the smartest person you’d ever met, but you figured that, every once in a while, he deserved to let his guard down and just be normal for a few minutes.

And, deep down, you knew he wasn’t as annoyed as he seemed.

Even though you were laughing, the smile on the brunette’s face slowly dimmed as she looked down. Your smile disappeared. “What is it?”

She was quiet for a second until she spoke, “You and the other victors… you all seemed close.”

Seemed.

Pictures flashed through your mind, pictures of your time in the Capitol. Normally, when you thought about your time there, you pictured all the bad, all the conversations behind closed doors, all the grown men and women who used you when you were still a child. What you didn’t think about was all the kids who were there with you, all the kids who had to grow up just as you did.

Some of these people were people you killed, the same people you had conversations with, the same people who were going through exactly what you were going through.

You were close.

Until you weren’t.

You didn’t say anything for a while, letting yourself remember it all. “Yeah,” you finally responded. “Yeah, we were.” And you didn’t say anything more on the matter. You didn’t know what more there was to say. You cleared your throat, changing the topic. “Anyways, this is what Beetee wanted to show us.” You picked up the arrows, showing them to her.

She hummed, looking back up. You knew that she knew what you were doing, but fortunately, she went along with it. “Never knew you could shoot.”

“Oh, please, Everdeen, anyone who grew up in the districts can shoot.”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean they’re any good,” she retorted, shrugging. 

You narrowed your eyes. “Is that a challenge?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know, is it?”

Another laugh left your lips, your third time laughing since arriving in 13. “You’re on, Girl on Fire.” You grabbed one of the non-incendiary arrows and a random bow lying on the table, loading the arrow in. 

You faced your body to the targets across the room, bringing the bow up to your ear, pulling the arrow back, and eying the red. The corners of your lips quirked upward and, as soon as you turned your head to face Katniss, you let it fly. The look on her face made your smirk widen, turning to see that you hit the target dead-centre.

“How the hell did you just do that?” She walked closer, shock etched onto her face. 

“Precision. And years of experience,” you replied, lowering the bow. “My father was a hunter.” 

When you looked back at her, she had a different expression, like she was remembering something. Her eyes glazed over. “So was mine.” Her eyes found yours again, and this time, there was something there that wasn’t there before.

Back when you met, she was just Katniss Everdeen, and you were just the Princess. But now, you were both a lot more than that.

It seemed that you and Katniss Everdeen were more alike than you thought.

Right before the 74th Hunger Games, when you and Finnick were watching the training scores on TV, you didn’t think the tributes from 12 stood a chance, even though the girl had the highest score. 

Watching the Games, you disregarded them completely, even as they got just as many sponsors as your tributes. You watched as Haymitch Abernathy actually tried, actually cared for these kids, but not even that deterred you. 

You ignored the possibility of them winning at all. You wanted it to be your tributes, so badly. They were good. You wanted them to survive, one of them to survive, to make it out of this, to live the rest of their lives. But you should’ve known better.

No matter your best efforts, those kids died, and there was nothing you could’ve done about it. 

After that, you assumed it’d go to the Careers. Glimmer and Marvel were crowd favourites, flashy and luxurious, but not as cutthroat as Cato and Clove. A part of you even rooted for them. Maybe tradition would be broken, you thought, maybe it’d go to that kid from 11. Thresh had the determination and resilience to win.

That’s why you were surprised when you turned on the TV to see Peeta and Katniss as the last ones standing.

One of us has to die; they have to have their victor.

No. They don’t.

You were even more surprised when they both walked out of that arena alive.

Peeta became Panem’s golden boy, and he knew exactly what strings to pull, as if he’d been doing this his whole life. Katniss, on the other hand, was not a performer, not the performer you knew Snow wanted her to be. You could tell she was angry, but being angry was not her job.

You knew this because it wasn’t yours, either.

People like you and her didn’t get to be angry. You were supposed to be grateful for the opportunity that the Capitol so generously bestowed upon you, not angry or sad or guilty. That wasn’t for you.

You saw so much of yourself in her. And for that reason, you thought you’d never meet her. Too rebellious, too jagged, too questioning–she was nothing that Snow wanted around the Princess. You were right; you didn’t meet her.

Until the time came for the 75th Hunger Games.

You were surprised when she was the one who came up to you. She was confident and put-together, but you knew better. This was your dance she was dancing. You could hear the lyrics so well.

She was scared.

And she was angry.

Her attitude made you like her. You could’ve been friends, you noted, but not in this lifetime, not when she was meant to be your opponent. You never thought that you and Katniss Everdeen would be friends.

Little did you know, she’d become one of the only friends you had.

“C’mon, Everdeen. You’re going easy on me,” you said, holding your arms out. Katniss stood opposite to you, lightly panting with her hands held up.

“I’m just- I’m just tired-”

“No, you’re not. You’re going easy,” you deadpanned. “Stop stalling and hit me.”

The brunette hesitated for a moment before going in for a punch that you easily caught. “You call that a punch? Where’s that Mockingjay fire?”

She scoffed, yanking her fist out of your grasp. “I’m not going to hit you, Y/N. You were just shot-”

“Well, the revolution doesn’t care if I’m shot or not.” You gestured to your body. “I’m perfectly fine. So hit me like you mean it.”

“No-”

“Hit me like I’m Snow.”

She scoffed again. “This is ridiculous. I’m not going to hit you. You’ve barely healed-”

You cut her off. “Fine. If you won’t, then I will.” Without another word, you threw a sharp punch for her face that she narrowly dodged. You didn’t miss a beat, throwing another one right after, and another one right after that like rapid fire.

She blocked your hits, but your pace didn’t alter. The two of you moved around the ring, but Katniss' hands remained in front of her face, not once swinging. You weren’t relenting; you weren’t gonna stop until she swung back.

You had almost backed her into the corner when, suddenly, the wind was knocked out of you and your back was hitting the ground. The world spun. You blinked and you were back in the arena, lying on the ground with Johanna hovering over you. You opened them and you were back in the training room, and now it was Katniss that hovered.

“Holy shit, Y/N, are you okay?” Her eyes were worried and her voice was panicked. Holy shit, she actually hit me. With that realization, a smile slowly formed on your face. “What? Why are you smiling-”

She was abruptly cut off as you swept her feet out from under her, sending her to the ground right next to you. She groaned while you laughed, almost hysterical.

If the old you could’ve seen you now. You never thought you’d be friends with Katniss Everdeen, much less that you’d be laughing with her after she kicked you.

“It’s not that funny,” she heaved, but you didn’t stop, uncontrollably giggling. 

“You- you actually did it-” you cackled, tears in your eyes. She looked over at you, still panting, until you made eye contact and she was laughing, too.

You stayed there on the floor together for a while, laughing your hearts out. For all you knew, you wouldn’t get many moments like this for a while, moments where you could just lie down and rest. For all you knew, this revolution would kill you.

So there you were, the Princess and The Mockingjay, pretending that you were just Y/N, and she was just Katniss.

And for now, that made you forget about everything else.

“Please. Please, I’m begging you- please don’t do it again.” Your shoulders shook with sobs, vision blurred.

“Ah, you know that that is not how the game works, my dear.”

“Please- please, I don’t want to play anymore.”

Snow tutted. “You know the rules. You give me something, and you get something in return. If you do not give me anything, then I will take something.”

“Please, I don’t- I don’t have anything more to give-”

He sighed. “Is that so?” He didn’t give you time to say anything else. “In that case, I won’t take from you.”

You blinked the tears in your eyes away to look up at him, a chill going down your spine at his expression. He didn’t look angry. No, he was smiling. “W-what?”

He hummed. “I’ll take from Peeta.” Your heart dropped. You pulled at your restraints as he turned to leave the room.

“No, please! Please, stop! Stop!” He ignored you, walking out the door and letting the door slide closed behind him.

And then the room went black.

You shot up out of bed panting, heart racing with your eyes darting around the room. The walls were grey, but there was a window. There wasn’t a window where you were in the tribute centre. Moonlight shone into the room. There was light. There weren’t Peacekeepers waiting by your bed, waking you up when you fell asleep. You were alone. You were safe. It’s okay. You’re in 13. You’re alive.

You’re alive.

Somehow, that didn’t make it any better.

You breathed in and out slowly, trying to regain control of your breathing like how Dr. Terren showed you. When you were rescued, you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t be consoled. This feeling that you felt right now was like that, but you don’t know if any panic attack could ever compare to that one. 

You were rescued. But it didn’t feel that way.

It didn’t feel that way at all.

Once you calmed down or reached some semblance of feeling calm, your mind went right back to Peeta. You hadn’t been to see him since you first arrived in 13–and even then, you didn’t speak. He wasn’t really in a condition to be spoken to. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. But there was more to it than that.

There was always more to it than what you were willing to acknowledge.

As if your body was moving on its own accord, you threw your bed sheets to the side, slipping on a sweater and sliding your feet into the slippers next to your bed. Walking out of the room, you didn’t spare the clock a glance, walking with a subtle determination that many wouldn’t understand.

You called it a victor’s drive. It was a certain determination that came with fighting for your life, even if it meant taking another’s. It was not wanting to kill, but doing it anyway. It was not wanting to live, but doing that, too.

There were many things a victor did not want to do. 

And there were just as many things that you’d do, anyway.

A part of you didn’t know where you were going while the other part was sure of herself. Regardless, you let your body take you to where your mind didn’t want to go, making your way through the dark hallways with no sound other than your feet heard.

Before you knew it, you stood in front of the glass wall that you hadn’t seen since you first got to 13. On the other side lied Peeta, looking no better than the last time you saw him. His screams echoed throughout your brain.

Please! Stop! No-

You screwed your eyes shut, trying to block out the noise that surrounded you even in such silence. His screams quieted after a few seconds, but no matter your resilience or techniques the doctor taught you, no matter what, you’d never be able to silence your song. 

There was a time when you almost believed that you could escape it, the music. When Finnick and you were pretending, it felt like you could really have it, a family, like one day it would be more than pretending. But now you knew that wasn’t possible.

This song would never skip.

And you’d be dancing until the day you died.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with blue ones staring back at you, as if he knew you were there. You took in a sharp breath, scared, but maintained your stare. His hair looked shorter and more unkept than you’d ever seen it. It wasn’t so gold anymore.

Peeta’s eyes were blue, but not blue like Finnick’s. They were bright like the sky and full of a childlike innocence that you no longer saw. His eyes weren’t so bright anymore.

He looked like a ghost.

And maybe that’s what you looked like, too.

Without thinking, you went for the door, pulling the handle only for it to remain still. You furrowed your brows, trying again with the same outcome. That’s when you saw the pin pad on the side and realized that it was locked.

Of course, it was. They weren’t gonna leave Peeta Mellark in a room by himself with the door unlocked. Not this Peeta.

This Peeta had to be strapped down to the bed because his one and only objective was to kill the woman he loved. This Peeta wasn’t the same Peeta you met at the parade.

This wasn’t him at all.

With that realization, you turned around, letting his eyes burn into your skull as you walked away. You weren’t sure of anything, but what you were sure of was that you couldn’t be alone right now. If you listened to the music by yourself right now, you didn’t know what you’d do.

Your feet pitter-pattered against the floor in quick motions. You didn’t know where you were going, just that you needed to find Johanna. If you couldn’t talk to Peeta, then you needed to talk to her. 

Suddenly, you turned a corner and went tumbling to the ground. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the fall, but it never came. Slowly, you opened them and the first thing you saw were another set of blue eyes, not bright or vibrant, but your favourite colour.

Finnick.

Your heart sped up. Suddenly, you could feel that the hands on your arms were his. Suddenly, you realized you were in Finnick Odair’s arms.

You think he only just realized that, too.

He cleared his throat, helping you up and letting you go. As soon as his hands were no longer on your skin, you felt cold. You felt just as cold as when the two of you were in the Capitol, standing outside together.

Except, now, you couldn’t hold each other like you did then.

Even if it was the one thing you wanted more than anything in the world.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you realized just how close he was. He was right there, in front of you.

You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.

Right here.

And not at all at the same time.

He looked at you quietly, not saying a word, but after so long, you’d learned to read Finnick well. He looked like he had so much to say but couldn’t find the words to put them in. He looked like how he looked that night, that night that you were in the Capitol and that poor boy and girl died, that night that you kissed for the first time.

But as you looked at him, really looked at him, he also looked nothing like the Finnick you knew. You’d avoided looking into his eyes ever since you got to 13, in fear of what you’d see, and now that you finally were, you could see that his eyes weren’t so lively anymore. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Could you ever?

“What are you-” he cleared his throat again, “What are you doing up?”

At his question, you diverted your eyes, suddenly finding the floors much more interesting to look at. “I, um, I couldn’t sleep,” you reasoned. You didn’t explain why.

“Yeah, neither could I,” he muttered back, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t explain, either.

There was a time when you’d seek him out if you couldn’t sleep, a time when you’d go to him if you had a nightmare. That wasn’t possible anymore.

If you danced with him, you didn’t know if he’d be enough to keep you from collapsing.

If you danced with him, you didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to keep going.

After a beat of silence, you spoke, “I should, um… I should get going now.”

You moved to leave, but Finnick grabbing onto your wrist stopped you. You masked your flinch, not because someone was touching you anymore, but because of who that person was. Your skin ignited so hot that it burned.

“Wait, can-” he hesitated, “can we talk?”

Your breath hitched, back still turned to him. His voice was pleading, a tone you never would’ve imagined him taking when you first met. You closed your eyes at the memory, feeling tears gather.

You wanted to say yes—oh, you always wanted to say yes to Finnick. His happiness became the only thing you strived for. You stayed with him even when you knew he loved Annie, you fought for her, you volunteered for her, you pretended you were okay, you pretended you didn’t love him, you pretended all the time. 

But you couldn’t pretend anymore.

A nation was counting on you. People were counting on you. People needed you. 

You couldn’t fall apart right now. And if you talked to Finnick, you weren’t sure you’d be able to put yourself back together again.

“I-” your voice cracked, “I can’t-”

“Please. Please, Y/N, I just need to talk to you.” You shook your head, holding in the sobs that were begging to escape. 

Why was he doing this to you? Why, why, why, why, why, why-

“Please.”

Y/N, please. I’m just asking you to trust me. Please just trust me.

Trust you to do what?

I just need you to trust me, Y/N, please. Trust me.

I trust you.

You would die for this man. You died for this man. And if it came down to it, you’d die again if it meant that he’d get to live in a better world. But you couldn’t talk to him now.

If you talked to him, then it didn’t matter what the Capitol would throw at you, what bullets you’d take. Those eyes would drown you.

You couldn’t do this. Not now.

“No.” You removed your hand from his grasp and walked away as fast as you could, even as your feet felt anchored to the ground, each step hurting more and more. You didn’t turn back once. 

The tears that you held in fell as you walked away, running down your face like a waterfall. You walked faster and faster until your walk escalated into a run. The door to your room slid open before you ran in, locking it as it closed. You slid down the metal and let out a sob, more and more following it. 

Your hands went over your ears, trying to block out the music, but it only got louder and louder.

No, no, nothing is okay! 

We will never be free, Y/N.

Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Hunger Games.

Mom?

President Snow used to sell me. 

We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear.

May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.

You screamed in agony, nearly ripping your hair out, uncaring if anyone heard you. Your body shook with sobs and your heart ached. It hurt so bad. You never thought it could hurt this bad. 

You didn’t wanna dance anymore. You didn’t wanna feel like this anymore. You didn’t wanna feel anymore at all if this was all it’d feel like.

But it didn’t matter. How you felt didn’t matter. What you wanted didn’t matter. It stopped mattering the second you won those Games, the second you stabbed that boy. You stopped being a person and became the person Snow wanted you to be. You became the Princess.

And now it was your job to make sure there wouldn’t ever be another Princess, another you, another Finnick, another Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Haymitch, Annie, Bay—it was your job to make sure this never happened to anyone again, that there would never be another group of kids that were forced to kill each other and themselves in the process. It was your job to make sure nobody else ever felt how you felt right now.

As you reminded yourself of that, your sobs gradually subsided and your heart rate came down. You weren’t okay.

But you had to be. You still had things to do- dancing to do. 

You were gonna dance one last time, for this country, for all the kids that died, for the kids you were, for the kids you could’ve had, for yourself, and for the man that you loved. You were gonna dance until you couldn’t anymore. You were gonna dance until the music stopped. And amidst all the unknown, one thing was certain.

The day the music died, so would you.

It’s the things we love most, that destroy us.

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#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #thg #i love finnick odair #the hunger games #finnick imagine #free palestine #free gaza #talking ab what's happening in palestine doesn't necessarily have to do w this post but it's happening so we should talk about it regardles #thg fanfiction #thg fandom #the hunger games trilogy #finnick angst #catching fire #mockingjay #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #thg fanfic #quarter quell #the hanging tree #angst #angsty imagine #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #katniss and peeta #everlark #johanna mason #the golden alliance #odesta #annie cresta

[stevie-petey]

episode eight: the upside down

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends? “Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused.  “Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!” “We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted. Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

summary: drinking game time ! take a shot every time jonathan tries ditching you or every time you almost die at the byers house, you find out that steve really is an athlete and tbh it's hot, but you know what's even hotter ? saving hawkins and reaching a tentative compromise with steve after he loans you $5 for snacks. after, jonathan makes a promise you really hope he can keep.

rating: general, cursing and slight scary violence

warnings: violence, use of fire and weapons, guns, use of fem!reader and use of y/n, slight mentions of blood and death

words: 13.7k

before you swing in: the final chapter ,,, my heart </3 please enjoy my child, i put so much into this chapter. action scenes scare me, they're hard and i'm weak, so i hope this lives up to everything you guys wanted n more ;) i cannot believe we're at the end (but i do have another chapter planned that's set in season 1, so shhhh). thank you so so so much for all your support. i never thought this silly lil fic would get that much attention, but i'm insanely flattered and grateful for each and every one of y'all. i'm so proud of what i've created and you guys are my beloveds ,,, anyways, enjoy !!!

-

You almost miss Jonathan and Nancy sneaking off. 

You had been explaining a comic book that had been in your bag to El when you noticed a shift in your periphery. Turning your head, you see Jonathan stand, offer Nancy his hand to help her up, and then walk towards the main doors together. 

What the fuck. 

“They wouldn’t dare…” You excuse yourself and run out the gym and into the hallway to follow them, absolutely furious. You’re so sick of their bullshit, of Jonathan’s bullshit and putting Nancy first. This isn’t even a petty jealousy thing, this is about the years of friendship between the two of you that has just suddenly disappeared within a damn week all due to circumstances completely out of your control. 

The slam of the main door is the only warning Jonathan gets before you’re yanking him by his coat and flinging him back, forcing him to look at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You’ve never, ever yelled at him like this before. Not even earlier this week when he’d given you that bullshit apology after screaming at you for being in his room, for saying the two of you weren’t family. You didn’t yell at him for hiding Nancy’s pictures from you, for going off without you to find the monster. Despite everything, you’ve never been this cruel to him, even if he may have deserved it at times.

Jonathan’s wide eyes stare down at your hand that’s still clutched around his coat, frightened. “Bug, we were just–”

“Just what? Sneaking off without me?”

“It’s not like that, Y/N.” Nancy now steps in, her hands held up as if you’re some rabid dog she wants to calm down. “We just figured we’d help Joyce and Hopper.”

“‘We’? Are you fucking kidding me? You two talked about this, had an entire conversation, and still somehow came to the conclusion that ditching me was a great fucking idea?” You scoff, deeply hurt by the fact that the two of them had an entire conversation without thinking to include you in it. 

“Bug, can we talk about this one on one?” Jonathan asks, his voice lowered. You can see the genuine upset in his eyes and for a moment your grip on him lessens, but then you see Nancy behind him and your anger only returns. 

“No, we can discuss this right here.” 

He sighs and tries to grab the hand not clutching his coat, but you slap it away. “Bug–”

“You’ve lost that privilege.” 

“Bug–I mean, Y/N,” His voice falters. “Look, my mom and Hopper are out there right now trying to find Will while that monster is still out. Nance and I… We want to finish what we started.” 

“Without me?” You don’t mean for it to happen, but your voice catches at the end.

Jonathan’s gaze softens and this time he succeeds in grabbing your hand. You let go of him and allow him to pull you in, weak against him as always. “I’m doing this to protect them, to protect you, Y/N. I’m always trying to protect you. You know that, right?”

You used to think that you did, but now? You’re not so sure, and it terrifies you. 

Nancy has stepped away from the conversation, now kicking at rocks while you’re with Jonathan, and you can’t help but think about how wrong all of this feels. 

Throughout this entire week it’s felt like someone has given you a photo of Jonathan, smeared its lines and edges, removed his moles and his crooked smile and made it neater, altered so that if you squint you can see the boy you grew up with underneath it all… But it’s fuzzy, almost too unclear to really see. 

Now he’s standing in front of you, his smile once more crooked and cunning and his moles faded underneath the moonlight and for a second you can see him. There he is, clear and untouched and him in a way that’s never quite been yours.

“I know,” you tell him. “But how many more times do you expect me to forgive you for lying and ditching me? If you want to protect me, you need to talk to me.”

Jonathan winces. “I know, I know it sounds stupid and I know I’ve fucked up more than enough this week, I just get caught up in wanting to make sure you’re safe. It’d kill me if I let anything happen to you… I just, I can’t lose you, bug.”

“So pushing me away is your grand plan of keeping me?”

“I’ve always been an idiot.” He manages a smile, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“That’s true, but if you attempt to ditch me one more time I swear to god I’ll pour tar all over your car.”

The boy laughs and for a brief moment everything feels okay again, but it doesn’t last very long. “In our defense, we figured you’d be better off with the kids since you’re not really a fighter, ya know?” 

You drop his hand. “Excuse me?” 

Jonathan’s smile is gone. “What?”

“I’m not really a fighter? You’re kidding, right?”

“Hey, no I didn’t mean it like that–” Jonathan fumbles over his words, clearly taken aback by your sudden mood change. 

You step away from him. “How many times did I defend you against Lonnie? Better yet, remind me how we became friends in the first place. Wasn’t it because I threw milk at a bunch of idiots bullying you? Huh?”

“Y/N–”

“God, I can’t believe I almost let you get away with it again! I mean, do you even hear the bullshit that comes out of your mouth?” You deepen your voice, now doing a poor impersonation of him. “‘Hey, bug! You know I love you, right? Cool! Now, I’m gonna go do fuck all and ignore you and ditch you and then somehow turn it into me being a good guy because duh! I can never do any wrong!’”

“Please, just–”

“Did I get it right? It was a pretty good impersonation in my opinion. I mean, I am the one who has had to deal with this shit all fucking week. I think I'm an expert on this topic now.” 

Jonathan looks pained but you don’t fucking care anymore. You’ve reached your limit, you’re sick and tired of being treated like some delicate creature that’s incapable of taking care of itself. You literally slapped Tommy Hagan this afternoon in order to help Jonathan, yet here he is basically calling you weak. 

And yet Nancy is the fighter. She’s the one who gets to go along on the adventure while you’re sidelined because for some damn reason you’re always the second option. Never taking matters into your own hands, always the one left behind to clean up the mess and take care of those also discarded. 

You’re sick of it. 

You step closer to Jonathan again, so that you’re nose to nose, and whisper, “I’m tired of never being good enough.” 

And with that, you reach into his coat and snatch up his keys, a game you’ve always played with him but now has turned into a bitter taste in your mouth, and run back into the gym. Someone has to inform the kids of the plan, make sure they’ll be okay on their own. 

Dustin sees you approach and smiles, but when he notices the angry pace in your steps, he frowns. “Uh oh.”

“Yeah, uh oh.” 

“Jonathan again?”

You nod, still too angry to trust your words. “Yeah.” 

He notices the keys in your hand. “Where are you going?”

Mike and Lucas look over now, curious as to what’s happening. 

You sigh. “I’m going with Nancy and Jonathan to the Byers house, we’re going to kill the monster.” 

“Why the hell are you going?” Dustin exclaims while Mike shoutes “sick!” and Lucas mumbles “great, alone again”. El remains quiet, still resting. 

You flick your brother’s hat. “I have to, Dustin.”

“For Jonathan?” He shakes his head. “I like him, but aren’t you mad at him right now?”

“Is it just me, or is she always mad at him these days?” Mike whispers over to Lucas, who simply shrugs. 

“Girls, man.” 

You ignore them and focus on Dustin. “It doesn’t matter. He needs my help, and no one in the party gets left behind. Remember?”

“Y/N–”

“I love you,” you kiss the top of his head. “I promise I’ll be safe, just be careful, okay? I’m putting you in charge, so don’t let me down. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll see you in a few hours tops!”

Dustin tries to argue some more, but you quickly run back outside before he can get another word in. You feel horrible leaving him behind, but you know this is the right decision. If you can kill the monster, there’s less of a chance of the kids or Joyce and Hopper getting hurt. Jonathan and Nancy may be fine on their own, but there’s always power in numbers and they’ll need all the help they can get. 

You just… you have to help. You know this is what you’re supposed to be doing, even if it pains you to do so. Dustin and the kids are smart; as long as they stay at the school, they’ll be fine. 

In theory, that is.

Nancy and Jonathan are waiting for you outside. You push past them and march towards Jonathan’s care; they awkwardly follow after you. You unlock it, throw yourself into the backseat, and promptly dig through your backpack to make sure you have everything. 

The two teens get in a few minutes after you. Not one word is spoken as Jonathan starts the car and the three of you drive off, leaving Hawkins Middle behind. 

– 

You thought the car ride with Nancy and Jonathan from the funeral home had been tense, but this one? Downright painful. 

Jonathan has a tight grip on the steering wheel and keeps trying to catch your eye through the rearview mirror but you avoid his gaze. You’ve spent the last five minutes arranging and rearranging your backpack to give you something to do while Nancy has tried three times to make conversation to make this car ride bearable. 

“El seems nice.” 

“You said four words to her, Nancy.” You retort, switching open your switchblade once more to watch the moonlight dance off of its blades. 

“Right.” 

Nancy shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat. You know she realizes she’s once again upset the balance in your relationship with Jonathan. It was only an hour ago that she tried getting you to admit your feelings for him before convincing the boy to up and leave you. Sure, Jonathan made his own decision in the end, but damn. She could’ve at least pretended to want you around. 

She notices your knives and tries to spark conversation again. “I love the color of the handle, it’s beautiful.” 

“Thanks,” you switch the blades closed and sit up in your seat. “Anyways, you geniuses have a plan or were you just counting on ditching me and winging it from there?”

“Y/N–”

“No, Nancy. I insist, let’s talk about a plan. We’re here to kill a monster, right?”

She closes her mouth and frowns, turning to Jonathan for help, but he’s no use. He’s busy tapping his fingers against the wheel and praying that the world will just swallow him up whole. Too bad for him you’re a stubborn pain in the ass and would simply pluck him back up so you can torture him some more. 

Nancy sighs. “Well, Jonathan and I were thinking we use the supplies we got earlier and lure the monster to his place, then we kill it.” 

“Awesome plan, guys!” You say, your voice dripping with sickly sweetness that leaves them both feeling even more uncomfortable. “But may I suggest some actual details or shall we just bank off of this wonderfully dull and vague plan?” 

“Sure, Y/N. Tell us what you had in mind.” Nancy rubs her face tiredly, knowing she deserves this. 

“Great! I’m assuming we’re luring the monster with blood?” They nod at you, so you continue. “Okay, so before we lure it I think we should completely booby-trap Jonathan’s house. Nail the bear trap down onto the floor, make sure the floor is cleared of anything that could trip us up. Then, once we’ve got the house secured, we knick ourselves to draw some blood and pray to whatever god is up there that we can kill the thing.” 

You pause for a moment, remembering how all the Christmas lights had been unscrewed by Joyce earlier. “The lights, we need to fix them. The monster communicates through the lights so if we have them, then we can track it.”

“That all sounds great, bug.” Jonathan finally speaks up, ass kissing. 

“Thanks, pal. Still don’t have the bug privilege back, but I’m sure you simply forgot.” 

He gulps, once more going back to being silent as he drives you and Nancy to his house. 

Nancy again tries to diffuse the tension. “How do we even kill the monster though? I mean, will my bullets be enough?”

“I have this idea, but it’s… well, it’s out there.” You bite your lip, now feeling your cocky demeanor slipping. “If we can safely set fire to it, I think that’s our best bet.”

“Fire?” Jonathan exclaims, but Nancy shushes him. 

“I think you’re right.” 

“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me but do we really have to set fire to my house–”

Now it’s your turn to shush Jonathan. “This isn’t about that. I wouldn’t burn your house down, I already told you I’d just pour tar on your car whenever I get the chance. For now, I really do think the best thing to do is burn the monster alive. In every horror movie and book, fire always gets the job done.” 

Despite herself, Nancy lets out a soft chuckle as Jonathan parks the car, now at his house. “She’s right, Jonathan. And who burns down houses these days? Tar really is the best form of revenge.” 

“I’m flattered, Wheeler. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be off my shitlist in no time.” You tell her, patting her on the shoulder before getting out of the car. You quickly open up the trunk and gather the monster hunting supplies while Jonathan and Nancy take their time getting out. 

You let yourself into the Byers home using your own key to the place. It’s been nestled in between the key to your house and the spare key to Jonathan’s car on your keychain for a few years now. 

The first thing you get started on are the lights. There’s hundreds of them to get through, but you drop your supplies and begin screwing them in one by one. Nancy and Jonathan come in soon after and silently begin to help. 

No conversation is made besides the necessary comments about the prep work. You’re all too focused on the possibility of what could happen next; the danger of the situation has finally set in. After the lights have all been fixed, you instruct Jonathan to begin nailing the bear trap down while you and Nancy discuss where to pour the gasoline. You both agree to make a path from the living room to Will’s room. 

As Nancy pours the gasoline, you follow behind her and pick up any flammables. You weren't lying to Jonathan earlier, you really don’t want to burn his house down. While the house is wrecked, it’s still a home despite everything that’s happened in it. You practically grew up within its walls, you’d do anything to keep it as protected as possible. 

When you’re done, you watch Nancy load her gun. A shiver runs down our spine; she looks at ease with it, which you figure should be reassuring, but the gravity of everything leaves you feeling on edge. You leave her alone and walk into the kitchen where Jonathan is, now hammering a ton of nails into his bat. 

You begin to sharpen your blades next to him, still finding that you only feel secure by his side. The rhythmic sound of his hammering calms you, in a sense. It serves as a distraction. You know you insisted on coming, you don’t regret it and you know you’re stronger than everyone seems to give you credit for, but you’re also terrified. This isn’t just some adventure in the woods; this could kill the ones you love dearly. 

Once you’re both done preparing your weapons, the two of you walk to Will’s room and rig up a simple snare. Jonathan grabs a yo-yo and you pull up a chair to set it on. The idea is that when the string gets pulled, it’ll alert you that the monster has sprung the bear trap. It’s not the most efficient warning system, but it’ll have to do. 

The last thing to do is set the bear trap, which takes all three of you to achieve. Jonathan and Nancy hold down the edges with their body weight and you very carefully set the trap with your hand. You shake a bit as you do so, but you force your nerves down. You remind yourself that Jonathan thinks you’re too weak, too cowardly, you have to prove him wrong. 

When the bear trap clicks into place, you let out a harsh exhale and sink against the wall, your heart still pounding. Jonathan and Nancy copy you and the three of you sit in silence. You’re still shaking a bit, and Jonathan is next to you just as tense, but for the first time since you’ve met him you can’t reach out to grab his hand to steady yourself. He’s too far, both literally and figuratively. Even with him next to you, you couldn’t be more far apart. 

In the back of your mind, you hope the kids are alright. Hopefully they’re having a better night than you currently are. 

“C’mon,” you say after a few minutes, getting up to walk over to the living room. “We’ve done all we can, now we just have to draw some blood and be the prettiest bait in Hawkins.”

– 

Nancy and Jonathan decide to cut the palm of their hands, but you respectfully would rather die than have a matching scar with them. The idea makes you so uncomfortable you visibly cringe when Jonathan tells you the idea. “Yeah, no thanks. I think I’ll find somewhere else to cut.” 

He looks hurt by what you’ve said but doesn’t voice it. Instead, the three of you stand in the living room in a triangle facing each other and he begins reciting the plan. “Remember…”

Nancy goes first. “Straight into Will’s room and–” 

“Don’t step on the trap.” You finish.

Jonathan nods. “And then?”

“Wait for the yo-yo to move.” The girl says. 

“Then…” Jonathan flicks the lighter on.

You whistle low. “Let there be light…” 

“Right. Light.” The boy nods again. “Alright, we ready?”

“Ready.”

“Scar time.” 

Jonathan and Nancy bring their hands up and place their knives flat against their palms. You roll up your sleeve and place your own knife against the upper part of your arm, just below your shoulder, and take a deep breath. 

“On three,” Jonathan says. He begins counting and you all can’t seem to stop shaking. He senses your unease and looks up at you and Nancy. “You guys don’t have to do this.”

Nancy glares at him, her own voice shaky. “Jonathan, stop talking.”

You nod. “Yeah, what she said.”

Jonathan tries to argue, but Nancy squeezes her eyes shut and yells, “Three!”

You close your own eyes and slice at your arm, the pain immediate. You gasp out, never having been good with pain, but you know you have to do this for Will. The blood trails down your arm, dripping from your elbow onto the ground, and you watch as blood from Jonathan’s and Nancy’s own cuts falls onto the ground too. 

Well, at least it’ll be an easy scar to hide compared to theirs. 

“Fuck, that stings.” You say to break the silence, and Nancy nods her head in agreement. 

“Not the most pleasant feeling.” 

Jonathan guides the two of you over to the couch and grabs the first aid kit that you had prepared on the coffee table. He sits in the middle, leaving room for both you and Nancy on each side of him, but you’re still pissed at him and opt to sit on the floor in front of the couch.

Nancy begins to patch up his wound, and it takes everything within you not to reach over and help him yourself. It feels unnatural to watch someone else taking care of him, but the space between you still feels too vast to cross. 

You patch up your own cut while the two of them talk quietly. You wind a bandage tight around your arm, ensuring you won’t bleed through, and Jonathan watches above you with guilt in his eyes. Nancy is trying to reassure him that everything will be okay, but as he watches you struggle to tie the bandage he wonders if he’s fucked up more than just your friendship.

“Bug, let me help with that.” He leans down and ties your bandage before you can stop him. 

You glare at him, still having not said anything to Jonathan besides what was needed for preparation. Nancy distracts herself by cleaning up around his cut and your stomach twists into knots. This is all so miserable. 

“Y/N, I know you’re upset with me and you can go whenever. I won’t blame you, you’ve done enough for me.” Jonathan says, trying to catch your eye. 

You turn away and inspect your bandage, still reeling over the fact that he tied it for you. “I’m here for Will, and only Will.”

“Y/N…” There’s a hurt in his voice that almost makes you turn around to throw your arms around his neck and whisper a million apologies to him. To tell him everything, that you love him and that you’d do anything for him and that’s why you’re so terrified of how you feel. You know you’d burn yourself up if it meant he’d be taken care of, if it meant he was safe and happy and far away from anything that could harm him. You know you’d use up everything within you to love him. 

Instead, you remain silent.

After getting no response from you, Jonathan clears his throat and begins to say something about how the lights will serve as an alarm for the monster, trying to pretend that everything is okay, but he’s cut off by a sudden pounding on the door.

You all jump and your fingers tighten around your switchblade, ready to open it. As your heart pounds you think of all the possible ways the plan could go wrong. When you’re on possibility number twelve, a voice calls through the door. 

“Jonathan?”

“Is that… Steve?” You say out loud, in complete disbelief. 

Steve continues to pound on the door. “Are you there, man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk!”

You’re the first to react, standing up to run over to the door. You fling it open and step outside, making sure Steve won’t be able to see inside the house. When he sees you, he stumbles back a bit. “Henderson?”

His face is still bleeding from earlier and his hair is a mess, and yet there’s a softness to him that you haven’t seen before with him. “Steve, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Can I just talk to Jonathan real quick? I just… I want to apologize about what happened earlier, see if we can maybe–” His eyes land on your bandaged arm. You curse and roll down your sleeve, feeling like an idiot for forgetting to hide the wound before going outside. 

Steve reaches out to touch it, a hint of worry on his face and his voice is now full of concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

You shiver at his touch, it’s gentle as he skims along the bandage and inspects it for any other problems. You pull away, now hiding the wound. “It’s nothing, but you should really go.”

“I want to help you, Y/N. Do you need me to get you anything?” His face is so full of worry for you that it makes you ache. Then a thought occurs to him. “Wait, where’s Byers? Why isn’t he here to help you?”

You’re about to make up a lie, but Nancy flings the door open. “Steve, listen to me.”

He looks between the two of you in complete shock. “Okay, what–”

“You need to leave.” Nancy orders.

Steve looks at you. “I’m not trying to start anything, okay?”

“I know, but–” You get cut off by Nancy.

“I don’t care about that. You need to leave.”

Steve begins to plead with the girl and you step away a bit, not wanting to intrude. You feel bad for him, he looks so beat down by what’s happened today and you suppose that you can’t really blame him. After spending maybe a total of ten hours with Nancy and Jonathan, you also have come close to losing your mind. 

If you were with Jonathan, if you truly had him, you’d react the same as Steve. Begging for the girl he loves to listen to him, to give him another chance with the promise of him changing. 

“I just want to make things right.” Steve says, impressing you with his vulnerability. He’s openly admitting to his mistakes and taking accountability mere hours after the situation has occurred, leaving you both in awe of him and also saddened for him. He loves Nancy more than anything, you can hear it in his voice. 

He deserves better. 

As you’re thinking this, you see his eyes flicker down towards Nancy’s bandaged hand and his brows furrow. “What happened to your hand? Is that blood?” His eyes now flicker over to you again. “Why are you both hurt?”

“We’re clumsy?” You say as Nancy yanks her hand away from Steve.

“It was an accident.” She agrees. 

Steve looks between the two of you, now sensing that something else is wrong. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” Nancy insists, but something in Steve’s demeanor shifts. 

“Wait a second, did he do this to you? To Y/N?” His once soft voice is now filled with anger and you step in front of him. 

“Steve, it wasn’t Jonathan. You need to go, I promise I’ll explain everything later–” 

He grabs you by your side and gently moves you so that he can get past and shove through the door. Nancy yells at him to stop and tries to push him out, but she’s useless against his strength. When he manages to break in, he stumbles inside and scans over the house. 

“Shit!” You follow after him, your brain running a million miles a second trying to figure out how to explain everything to him. 

“What the fuck?” Steve mumbles, eyeing the bat with nails in it. “Y/N, what’s going on here?”

He’s looking to you for reassurance and you guess he assumes that the two of you are allies in this Jonathan and Nancy situation. You really wish you could explain, but Jonathan has grabbed him by the shoulders and is trying to push him outside. The two stumble around for a few seconds and you just helplessly watch. 

“Steve, there’s no time to explain, please just listen to Jonathan and get out of here!” You’re helping Jonathan now, trying to get Steve out the door and away from harm’s reach, but he’s still fighting back confused and lost as ever and you pity him. 

You hear a click and turn around, gasping when you see Nancy holding her gun up to Steve. “Woah, what the fuck Nancy?”

“What! What is going on?” Steve yells, now more panicked than anything else. 

While Jonathan has stepped away, you find yourself standing in front of Steve as if to somehow block the bullet. You can’t let him get hurt, he doesn’t have any part of this, he can still have a normal and happy life if he just leaves now. “Nancy, put the fucking gun down, this isn’t helping!”

Steve pleads with her as well and the two of you scream at the girl to just listen and not swing around loaded weapons, but Nancy remains firm in her stance. “You have five seconds to get out of here. I’m doing this for you.”

“Because holding a gun to his head is any better than telling him the truth?” You exclaim, entirely over the situation. 

As the four of you are arguing, the lights begin to flicker. Steve and Nancy don’t seem to notice, but you do. You look at Jonathan and say your first real words to him in hours. “Jonathan…”

He hears you and he runs over to your side, grabbing your hand as the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder. You feel your heartbeat race and you can feel him shaking beside you. He’s terrified, so are you, but his hand around yours manages to steady you. 

“Nancy!” Jonathan tries to get the girl’s attention, but she’s too busy counting down to hear him. 

He shouts at her again and the lights start to flicker more wildly and you draw your switchblade out, adrenaline coursing through you. It’s time. 

Jonathan yells once more and finally catches Nancy’s attention. “The lights!”

She whips her head around and curses, Jonathan, still tightly holding your hand, tugs you along so that you follow him as he secures his weapons and grabs the bat. “It’s here.”

“What’s here?” Steve is flailing around, utterly lost.

You all ignore him and now stand back to back in a triangle. Nancy holds up her gun, Jonathan wields his bat, and you flick your wrist to bring out your knives. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know!” 

The lights flicker rapidly and you feel overwhelmed. They were supposed to serve as a guide towards the monster, but there's no possible way to see which direction it’ll come from and for a fleeting moment you think you’ve made a huge mistake. 

Steve is still screaming, demanding answers, but you’re too busy scanning your surroundings to offer him some information. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going–”

The roof opens up, cutting Steve off, and you scream as the monster attempts to come down right above you. Jonathan shields you from the fallen debris and you cling onto him in utter fear. This isn’t real. This cannot be happening. 

Nancy begins to shoot at the thing while Jonathan guides you to safety. He brings you to the edge of the living room and holds your face in his hands, forcing you to really look at him for the first time all night. “Listen to me, stay here while I get Nancy.”

He kisses your forehead and then leaves, rushing over to Nancy to pull her away and guide her towards Will’s room. Steve stands next to you, frozen, and it forces you back to reality. The plan, you have to stick to the plan. 

You grab Steve’s hand and yank him so that he follows. The monster has dropped down now, a horrible creature on all fours that opens its gaping mouth to let out a horrible screech that you feel deep within your bones. This is what killed Barb. 

The four of you run to Will’s room and you only just barely have enough time to warn Steve about the bear trap. You look over your shoulder and shout, “Jump!” right as your ankle catches on its chains. 

You fall. Hard. 

Pain sears through your ankle and you try to get up, but any pressure on it sends flames through your entire body and you let out another scream. The monster catches up, looming over you, and you brace for your death. There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of this. 

You squeeze your eyes as the monster stalks close to you, its ugly mouth open and ready to kill you. Jonathan is screaming at you to get up, but Nancy is holding him back from helping. You’re relieved by this, knowing that someone has to be there for Will once this is all done. He’ll need his brother, and Nancy seems to understand this. You catch her eye and nod at her, sending a silent thank you. 

“Bug! No, let go of me! I have to help her, Nancy!” Jonathan’s voice becomes hoarse by how loud he screams, his voice breaking with fear and desperation. 

Then, right before the monster lunges at you, you feel a familiar pair of arms slide underneath your legs and pick you up. “What–”

Steve Harrington has swooped in to save you, picking you up as if you weigh nothing, ever the athlete, and swiftly jumps over the bear trap while screaming his head off. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

You’re so delirious from the pain in your ankle and the adrenaline pumping through your veins that you can’t help but let a laugh escape you. No fucking way is any of this real. Steve Harrington is carrying you bridal style into Will’s bedroom with Jonathan and Nancy as witnesses. 

What a life. 

Once you’re both secured in the room, Steve sets you down gently right as Nancy yells at him to shut up. As soon as Steve lets go of you, Jonathan is at your side and pulls you into a crushing hug. 

“Bug.” He breathes out against your ear, relief heavy. 

“I’m okay.” You tell him, threading your fingers through his hair. He’s shaking harder than ever, and holding onto you as if he’s scared he’ll lose you again. “I’m okay, bee.” 

He pulls away and his hands are all over you, checking everywhere for any other injuries. “Did it hurt you, are you bleeding? There should be a first aid kit–”

You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, which seems to calm him down a bit. “I’m fine, just twisted my ankle. If you help me up, I’m sure I’ll be able to stand again.” 

Jonathan quickly helps you to your feet and you lean against him for the extra support. While you put on a brave face for Jonathan, you’re terrified out of your fucking mind. You almost died. Jonathan is still holding your hand and he’s looking at you as if seeing you for the first time and you force yourself to look away. It’s the same look from the field days ago, when you thought he’d kiss you. 

You have to focus on what’s at stake.

How the hell are you guys supposed to kill this thing?

The monster screeches, breaking the moment between you and Jonathan, and he flicks his lighter on and forces you to stand behind him. Nancy holds up her gun and you bring your knives closer to your face, Steve standing weaponless behind you. 

You all wait, tense, for the monster. It stalks closer to the room, its awful growls alerting you of its proximity, but it doesn’t appear. 

“What’s it doing?” Nancy asks, frustrated. 

“I don’t know.” You respond, equally as frustrated and scared. 

Another few agonizing seconds pass, and you stare at the yo-yo and hope that it remains still. Then, the lights stop flickering and it becomes quiet. All you can hear is your blood roaring in your ears. 

Nancy looks around. “Do you hear anything?”

“No,” Jonathan shakes his head, inching closer to the door. 

“Wait!” You tug at your still interlocked hands. You pick up his bat that had been thrown on the ground and hand it to him. “Be careful. Please.”

He gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go, accepting the bat.

As Jonathan pokes his head out to see if the monster is outside, Steve bends his head down and whispers in your ear, “Romantic.”

“Shut. Up.” You hit him in the chest, fearfully watching your best friend to make sure he doesn't die. When he motions an all clear, Nancy follows him outside, then you, then Steve. 

The house is silent and your heart sinks when you see that the bear trap has been left untouched. You realize with a horrible gut wrench that the monster is smarter than the three of you had anticipated. 

So much for your plan, then.

“It’s smarter than we thought.” 

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees with dismay. 

He stalks against the wall towards the living room and you all follow in a single file line. You do your best to stick close to the wall but you limp with every step. Your ankle is definitely out of commission for now. Great. 

All of you are on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It couldn’t have been that easy, there’s no possible way that the monster simply up and left. You enter the living room, which has gotten even more wrecked due the monster. The wallpaper has been torn off of some parts of the wall and you see papers scattered everywhere. 

“Shit…” you mumble, kicking at a shredded wallpaper strip. 

In the corner, Steve has started to hyperventilate and mumble to himself. “This is crazy, this is so crazy, this is fucking crazy.” 

You limp over to him and grab his shoulders, making him face you. “Steve, hey. It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Y/N, what the hell just happened?” 

“It’s… complicated. For now, can you trust me that everything will be okay?” 

“Of course I trust you, it’s just…” He nods, his eyes softening. You lessen your hold on him and give him a smile, he seems to be calming down. Then, he looks around the room and seemingly remembers where he is. “This is crazy!” 

Steve lunges for the phone on the wall and tries to call for help. 

You stumble after him, the pain in your ankle slowing you down. “Steve, wait–”

Nancy gets to him first, grabbing the phone out of his hand and throwing it across the room. He looks at her, shocked. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“It’s going to come back!” Nancy yells at him, and you wince at the way she treats him. You know Steve will only listen to her, but she could at least be nicer about the whole situation. The three of you have had some time to process everything happening, Steve was thrown into the deep end. 

“You could be a little nicer,” you mumble, and Nancy sends you a glare. You raise your hands up in surrender. “Sorry.” 

“Steve, you need to leave. Right now.”

He looks so overwhelmed and you give him a pitying look. He stares at you, reminiscent of the way he looked at you earlier in the alley, silently begging you to say something, anything, but again you can only shake your head at him. You won’t force him to stay, it wouldn’t be fair.

“Y/N, please…” He tries one more time to get you on his side, but you can’t. Frustrated by your lack of response, Steve groans. “Fuck it!” 

He runs out the door. 

You’ll admit that you’re a bit disappointed, but you also understand. Who in their right mind would stay? 

You and Nancy share a look before the lights begin to flicker again. Dread fills you. “Fuck…”

Jonathan is back by your side and he and Nancy again form a triangle with you, all your backs pressed together as you desperately try to locate the monster. You all stumble in a circle, searching for any sign of the thing, but there’s nothing. 

“Where is it?” Nancy gasps out.

“Just fucking show yourself!” You shout, just wanting this all to be over with. Your body is drained from living in a state of fear for so long. 

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Jonathan echoes your taunts. 

Suddenly the lights turn off and you’re left alone in complete darkness. Faintly you can hear the monster’s familiar growl approaching from behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, the air stands still. It’s back. Before you can react, it pounces on Jonathan. 

“Jonathan!” You scream alongside Nancy. Desperation takes over you and before you can even process what’s happening, you ignore the pain in your ankle and jump onto its back, stabbing repeatedly at it. 

Your blades only bounce off of its thick skin and the monster struggles to get you off. You hold on as tight as you can, shouting and kicking at it so that it can’t hurt him, but then it opens its mouth and for a horrifying moment you’re afraid that Jonathan will die.

“No!” You scream even louder than before and double down on your effort, stabbing and slashing as much as you possibly can to try and create some damage, but your arms are starting to ache and your ankle now feels like it’s on fire. 

“Nancy, its skin is too thick!” You sob out, nearing complete exhaustion. Then, just as you’re about to collapse from exhaustion, gunshots fill the room. 

Nancy begins to shoot at the monster and with the help of your blades, the two of you manage to pierce its skin, but even then the damage is minimal. It’s not enough, it won’t be enough. Tears stream down your face and the monster only gets closer to Jonathan, so you do the only thing you can think of: you crawl onto the top of its body and stab at its mouth. 

The monster lets out a blood curdling scream and flings you off of its back. You go flying across the room and land against the wall with a groan. All the air has been knocked out of you and your ribs are definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. Every part of you aches, but you manage to lift your head up and blearily process the monster now approaching Nancy as she continues to shoot at it, but it remains unphased. 

You crawl over to Jonathan, who is still laying on the ground. He’s motionless, and you fight everything within you not to break down and sob. You have to keep going, he has to be alive. As you reach Jonathan and frantically check for a pulse, the monster has now cornered Nancy and her gun seems to be out of bullets.

It’s over. You know it is. 

Right as you’ve accepted your fate, a screaming Steve Harrington wielding Jonathan’s bat once again manages to save the day. 

He hits the monster with the bat, effectively saving Nancy and you’re so impressed with his batting skills that you almost find him attractive with how easily he hits and dodges the monster. However, you file those thoughts away for later and finally manage to wake Jonathan up. He startles with a gasp and you check over his chest, scared he may have gotten pierced by the monster’s claws. 

“I’m fine, we need to help.”

You help each other up and you have to lean heavily against him due to your ankle. You bull riding the monster has only made the sprain worse; you’re too afraid to look down and see the damage that’s been done. 

As the two of you hobble over to Nancy, Jonathan looks at you. “Is Harrington really here right now?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.”

Steve manages to lure the monster closer and closer to the bear trap and you watch him in awe. He’s quick footed and so sure of himself, the complete opposite of the boy from only ten minutes ago who had run out of the house screaming his head off. Now, Steve is swift with his hits and even twirls the bat in his hand to show off. The small act causes you to smile despite the horrible circumstances. 

By the time you and Jonathan are up and recovered, Steve has successfully led the monster straight into the trap. It clamps around the monster’s foot and it screeches, flailing around in the trap. Steve still has his bat held up, now frantically looking over to everyone else. “He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!”

“Jonathan, now!” Nancy screams, motioning over at him to use his lighter. 

Jonathan listens, using his free hand to flick the lighter on and then drops it onto the ground, right into the trail of gasoline. Immediately the monster goes up in flames, letting out horrible noises. You all shield your faces from the flames and Jonathan pulls you closer into him, still having yet to let go of you; you feel yourself sink into his side as you watch the monster wither away.

“Bug, I have to get the fire extinguisher, do you think you can stand on your own?” Jonathan asks you, his voice soft but urgent. 

You quickly nod and brace yourself for his departure. “Yeah, go.” 

He lets go of you as gently as possible before running to grab the extinguisher. When he has it, he orders everyone to get back and then smothers the flames. It takes a couple seconds, but eventually the fire gets put out, leaving behind an awful stench that makes everyone cough and gag. 

“Holy fuck,” you wheeze out, hunched over. “Burnt monster smells horrible.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve coughs out. 

Nancy covers her face with her jacket. “Where did it go?”

“It has to be dead.” Jonathan pants against the wall, looking like he’s three seconds away from passing out. “It has to be.”

“It fucking better be dead.” You mumble, hobbling closer to see what exactly was left behind. When you get closer and see the giant lump of melted skin all over the bear trap, you gag. “Oh god. Yeah, okay. It’s dead.”

Everyone sighs with relief. 

Then, you notice a Christmas light above you flicker on. Your heart stops, terrified that the monster has somehow survived, but then a second one turns on, then a third, until a path seems to be guiding you towards the living room. 

You all follow, cautious but curious, but these lights don’t feel threatening. There’s an energy to them, a comforting one that leaves you breathless. When you get to the living room, tears form in your eyes, now understanding what this all is. You look at Jonathan, who also seems to be thinking what you are. 

It’s Joyce, you know it is. 

“Mom,” he breathes out. 

You limp over to him and grab his hand. He turns to you, his eyes shining with an appreciation that he only ever has for you. He seems to be drinking you in, as if now realizing just how close the two of you came to dying tonight. You’re doing the same, thankful that he’s alive and standing next to you despite everything. There’s so much the two of you want to say, but as always the words aren’t needed. You understand each other perfectly, the balance between you centered once more. 

You put your head on Jonathan’s shoulder and he brings his hand to your hair to softly stroke it. The two of you stand like that for a second, breathing each other in and enjoying the tenderness after such a miserable day, before you slowly break apart and follow the lights going outside. 

The porch light flickers and Nancy stands next to you, watching it with uncertainty. “Where’s it going?”

“I don’t think it’s the monster.” Jonathan tells her. 

“It’s Will.” You don’t know how you know this, or what makes you feel so certain that you’re right, but somehow you know that you are. Somewhere deep within you, you feel the faint outline of hope flicker. 

A new silence surrounds the four of you at your words, and for once there’s hope between you all. Then, after a minute or so of silence, everyone begins to head back inside. Steve first, then Nancy, and finally Jonathan, leaving you alone with the crisp early winter air.

You take a deep breath, the cold air serving as a reminder that you’re alive. You let it fill your lungs until you can’t breathe in anymore, then you release the air through an exhale and feel your body settle into its exhaustion. This is the first time you’ve had a moment to yourself, so you let the exhaustion weigh upon you like a warm blanket. 

Will is safe, you can feel it. Despite everything, he’s safe and alive. Jonathan is too, still your best friend regardless of all the unspoken words between the two of you. Dustin is at the school with the kids, away from danger. Everything is okay, it’ll be okay. 

You let the moment wash over you, incredibly grateful to be lucky enough to have survived it all. Everyone you love and hold close to you is safe. You didn’t fuck up this time. God, you did it. 

Jonathan comes running out after a while, his face alight with joy and he crashes into you and picks you up to twirl you around. You laugh, loud and freely, and bury your face in his hair as he continues. “Bee, stop! Put me down, you dummy!” 

He does as he’s told, but doesn’t let go of you once your feet are on the ground. “My mom just called, they saved Will. He–he’s in the hospital, he’s okay.” 

You squeal and throw your arms around Jonathan again, squeezing him so hard that you’re afraid you'll hurt him, but he simply laughs and squeezes you just as tight. Tears come again, but this time they’re happy ones, and if it weren’t for your ankle you’d be jumping up and down right now. 

Jonathan’s laughter dies down and he cups your chin around his fingers so that you look up at him. “You did it.” 

“We did it, bug.” You softly push against him. You can’t take all the credit. 

His eyes are shining again, you haven’t seen him this happy in so long, you get lost in it. His face is lit up and his smile is back and you’re so in love with him that it claws against your throat and threatens to spill out in excess.

A beat of silence passes and Jonathan just soaks your presence in. You can’t quite read his face, but for once this doesn’t frighten you. You enjoy it, you relish in the fact that he’s still yours yet now forming into someone new and lovely and wonderful. 

“You never gave up.” He whispers at last, adoration in his voice. 

“Never.” 

“You never left me.” 

“Never.” You breathe out, the word so simple with such heavy weight behind it. 

The moment is so raw, so tender, and Jonathan is giving you that look again, the one that leaves you feeling like the sun itself has settled upon you and kissed your cheek. His eyes flick down to your lips and you smile, taunting him to lean in. He seems to understand, giving you his own teasing smile before leaning in. You lean in as well, every part of you buzzing, and right before your lips touch his, Steve bursts through the door.

“Jonathan, dude, do you have like, any food in the house?” He asks, completely oblivious to what he’s just interrupted. 

You and Jonathan break apart, laughing the tension away. He ducks his head down, clears his throat, and turns to Steve. “Sorry, man. Been a little busy this week for grocery shopping.”

Steve’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Oh shit, right. Sorry, okay. Uh… Well, I’ll be inside, I guess.” 

“We’ll be in shortly.” You tell Steve. You want to be frustrated by his timing, but something tells you that you’ll have all the time in the world to tell Jonathan how you feel. Now just isn’t the time. 

– 

The moment you arrive at the hospital, Jonathan sprints out of the car and straight towards the front desk to find out where Will is. You and Nancy follow behind, figuring you won’t be able to see Will for a while since you’re not blood related, so the two of you wish Jonathan goodbye and head towards the waiting room. 

Steve lags behind, obviously unsure where to go. Nancy immediately walks inside, but you notice his hesitation and nudge his shoulder. “I’m sure that the cut on your eyebrow needs to be looked out. Let’s go sit, okay?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah, sure. Totally. Let’s go sit in a room full of people who probably hate me. No biggie.”

“Either come or don’t.” You shrug. “But the way I see it, you can start mending some metaphorical wounds while you wait in there.”

You don’t wait for Steve to figure out what to do, you know that Dustin is somewhere inside the waiting room and you’re buzzing to see him and the rest of the kids. You hobble inside, still very much in pain due to your injuries, but the moment you see your brother it all fades away. 

He runs into your arms and almost knocks you down with the force. Dustin clings onto you, mumbling over and over again how sorry he is. 

“Hey, wait a second,” you pull him away and crouch down, groaning a bit at the pain. “What are you sorry about? What happened?”

You look around the room and see everyone there. Nancy, Hopper, the kids, Steve, even Nancy’s parents, but there’s someone missing…

“El,” you breathe out. 

Dustin’s lip trembles and he begins to cry. You soothe him, grabbing his hand to bring him over to the seats and sit between him and Mike. Lucas is to the left of Dustin and you can’t help but notice how all the boys have dried tears in their eyes. 

When they’re ready, you have the kids explain what happened, and the more they tell you, the more guilty you feel. You should’ve been there for them, you left them all alone with that monster. You got Will back, and yet you’ve lost El as a result. It seems that no matter what you do, it’ll never quite be enough in the end. 

“It’s not your fault.” You tell Dustin, who still keeps apologizing. It was you who had left him in charge, you’re why El ended up vanquished by the monster. “You did everything you could. I shouldn’t have left you guys all alone, but I’m proud that you all took care of one another, okay?”

He sniffs and nods his head, but you know he doesn’t believe you. All the boys are somber; you know it’ll take time for them to recover. So, you do what you do best, you console them. You hold their hands and rub their backs and offer your spare comics in your bag. You do whatever you can to comfort them, to reassure them that they’re safe now and that no one will hurt them, but the light in their eyes has dimmed. 

They’ll never be the same again. 

And El… she had been so young, you don’t think you’ll ever not feel the heavy weight of guilt whenever you think of her. She had been so sweet and had trusted you. 

You should’ve been there, you wish you could’ve saved her.

Steve watches from his seat across from you. He listens in as you comfort the boys, taking care of them in such a natural way. He admires this softer side of you, one he hasn’t quite seen before. Sure, you’ve always been gentle and sincere, but watching you with the kids is something special in itself. You manage to get them to laugh, you offer them your shoulder to cry or sleep on, and you read aloud to them stories from your comics and Steve finds himself drawn towards your interactions with the kids. 

It’s sweet, something delicate and lovely, and Steve admires everything that you are. When he sees you awkwardly stand up and stumble over to the vending machines in the hall, Steve finds himself following after you. 

-

“Bitch!” You slam the palm of your hand against the vending machine in vain. The bag of chips hangs by the little spiral, taunting you. 

“That’s not a very nice word, Henderson.” 

You turn and see Steve, leaning against the wall with a fond expression. “You stalking me?”

“Nah, just wanted to watch you fight against a vending machine.”

“Ha,” you snort, turning back to the machine. “Unless you can help me get this last chip bag, you’re free to go sit back down.”

You mean it to be a joke, not expecting Steve to actually listen, but he’s at your side within a second. “Step back, let Steve handle her.” 

“What–”

Steve motions for you to move, so you reluctantly do as you’re told. Once you’re out of the way, Steve claps his hands, stretches out his neck, and then begins to aggressively shake the vending machine. 

“That is so not what you’re supposed to do–”

Suddenly the bag drops down from the hook and into the retrieval slot. Steve reaches inside, grabs the bag, and then dangles it in the air. “Tada!” 

You laugh and grab the bag from him. “Okay, I’ll admit, that was impressive.” 

“What can I say? I’m charming like that.” 

“Sure,” you smile at him, neither of you have moved yet. He’s still standing in front of you with that cocky smile on his face that’s slowly started to warm on you. You truly do understand why so many girls have fallen for him. If you ever saw Steve on the street, a stranger passing by, you’d fall a little bit in love with him yourself.

The thought startles you. “Well, uh…”

“Yes?” Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling. 

“Thank you for the chips. The kids haven’t eaten anything in hours, so…” You wave the three bags in your arms. “Gotta keep 'em fed.”

“Wait a second, there’s only three bags there. Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“I only had enough money for the boy’s chips.” You say, feeling suddenly sheepish. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just eat a few pieces from them and wait until we get home.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, no.”

You frown at him, confused as he rustles through his jean pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I don’t want your money–”

He doesn’t listen and simply puts the cash into the vending machine and punches in a few numbers. Slowly, one by one, multiple different bags of sweets and chips come falling down within the machine. Once the last one has dropped, Steve bends down and offers the huge stash to you. 

“A feast, on me.” He winks at you and you can’t help but blush. 

“T–thanks, I guess.” You now carefully balance the rest of the snacks in your arms, the mound almost blocking your view. You’re not sure how much Steve just paid, but with all these snacks you and the kids will surely be well fed. 

Steve shrugs, and if you weren’t so tired you’d think the blush on his face was a real one. “It’s the least I can do, all things considered.”

His words give you pause. You know he’s referencing earlier today, back in the alley where fists slammed against skin and he had dragged you away from your best friend, but the memory feels like years ago. So much has happened since then, Steve has saved your life since then. 

“Steve…” Your ankle is starting to sting again from standing for so long, so you adjust your footing and try to figure out what you want to say. “I never got to thank you back at Jonathan’s.”

“Thank me?” His face scrunches in confusion in a sickeningly cute way that it almost distracts you.

“Yes. You saved my life tonight, Steve. I won’t ever forget that.” 

“Oh…There’s no need to thank me. I mean, what are friends for?” Steve freezes and clears his throat. “I mean, shit. We aren’t friends, you keep saying that. Sorry. You know what I mean.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends?

“Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused. 

“Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!”

“We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted.

Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

Steve starts moving around in what you can only guess is a happy dance. “Sweet! Does this mean I get a cool nickname, too?”

“A nickname?” A bag of chips threatens to fall from your arms, but Steve catches it before it can land on the ground and takes a few more snacks off of your hands. 

He readjusts the snacks he now has so that he can carry them easier. “Yeah, I mean. Byers has one, why can’t I?”

You don’t think you’ll ever stop feeling so thrown every time Steve mentions a small detail about you that he’s somehow come to notice. He has a habit of doing that, surprising you by how much he seems to pay attention to you. You thought that no one ever had before, but Steve continues to prove you wrong. 

“I’ll tell ya what,” you begin to walk back towards the waiting room, careful to step carefully to not drop anything or upset your ankle. “Let’s see how this ‘friends’ thing works out, then I’ll decide what nickname fits you best. Deal?”

Steve thinks for a moment and follows. “Hmm. I don’t know, I think I’ll need some type of precaution to make sure you give me a nickname in the end. I want one, Y/N. I’m so serious right now.”

You laugh at his pleading tone. “I can add you to my baking list. Whatever I bake, you’ll get a piece of it. Is that better?”

“God, yes!” Steve punches the air and cheers. 

You’re smiling so much that your face aches. You haven’t felt this light and carefree in so long, you’d almost forgotten what it’s like. The two of you don’t say anything else as you walk back to the waiting room, though Steve seems to slow down so that you don’t hurt your ankle keeping up, though you still let out a few winces and groans.

When you’ve arrived back at your seat, Steve sets down the snacks and runs off without another word. You’re confused by his sudden departure but don’t think much of it. Instead, you wake the boys up and show them your array of snacks, which wakes them up immediately. 

You’re mediating a fight between Mike and Lucas over who gets the bag of Chips Ahoy when a nurse interrupts. “Excuse me, ma’am. This young man over here told me I should come over and check out your ankle?”

The woman smiles and you look past her and see Steve sheepishly waving from his seat across from you. You’re stunned. Had he really gone out of his way to ensure your ankle gets treated?

You shake the thoughts out of your head and inform the woman all she needs to know. You tell her how you’d fallen and what type of pain you feel when you stand up. She inspects the ankle, her fingers cold but kind, and within a few minutes has diagnosed you with a sprained ankle. 

“All you can really do is stay off of it for a few weeks while it heals. I can go and get you some crutches, if you’d like?” She asks, rolling her gloves off and tucking them back into her pocket.

You nod. “If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great.”

The nurse leaves with the promise of being back soon. In the meantime she instructs you to keep your ankle elevated, so you prop it against the coffee table and wait. You’re annoyed that you even have to have crutches, but then you think of Barb, of El. You’re luckier than you should be. 

– 

After an hour or so, Jonathan opens the door to the waiting room. He spots you and Mike talking softly with each other and whistles over to catch your attention. When Mike looks up, Jonathan nods at him and the boy scrambles out of his seat. 

“Guys! Guys! He’s up, Will is up!” Mike shakes awake Lucas and Dustin, who had been cuddling on the seats fast asleep. “Will’s up!”

Once they’re awake, they quickly follow after Mike and the three boys are gone in an instant, sprinting down the hall towards Will’s room. Clearly they’re eager to see their friend. 

You do your best to get up as fast as possible, but your new crutches serve more as a nuisance rather than an aid. As you struggle to get up, somehow knocking over the mountain of snacks, Steve rushes over. 

He grabs the crutches and offers you his hand. “Here, careful.”

“Thanks,” you awkwardly accept his hand and get up. Jonathan watches from the doorway, a curious look on his face. Nancy does the same from her seat, not saying a word as she watches Steve gently help you navigate the waiting room with your injury. 

Jonathan holds the door open for you and takes over once you’re out the door. He grabs the crutches from Steve and is now the one to hold your hand, balancing you. “I can take it from here, Harrington.”

“Right, yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his head and coughs. “I’ll just… yeah.” 

He heads back inside and you and Jonathan watch as he leaves. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jonathan turns to you. “Are you two friends now or something?”

“We almost died tonight, bee. I think it’s safe to call Steve a friend now.”

Jonathan bites his lip, though there’s a far off look in his eye that leaves you feeling like you’ve missed something in the conversation. “Guess that’s true. Anyways, let’s get you to Will.”

By the time you make it to the room, the boys have swarmed around Will and are telling him everything he’s missed this week. He’s listening eagerly as they’re telling him about El, but when he sees you enter the room, his eyes light up and he tries to sit up. 

“Y/N!” Will calls out, pure excitement in his voice. 

You practically fall over in your haste to get to him. The second you’re close enough, you collapse onto his bed and give him the tightest hug you possibly can without hurting him. He feels so small against you, smaller than he’s ever felt before, and his sunken eyes and pale skin make you want to cry. 

But he’s alive and here and in your arms once again, happy and wonderful and safe. 

“Little bee,” you try not to cry, but tears are thick in your voice. “I missed you.”

Will manages a weak smile and shrugs, trying to play off the gravity of the situation. “Took a little detour home.” 

You laugh and ruffle his hair. “At least you came home, that’s all that matters.”

“Ahem,” Mike obnoxiously clears his throat, effectively ending your moment with Will. “You’re hogging Will, move over.” 

You laugh again and move away, allowing the boys to resume their millions of updates. You maneuver your crutches and walk over to Jonathan, who is standing by the door. He’s looking at the boys and Will with a soft smile on his face and you join him, standing side by side as you watch your boys finally come together again. 

Then, you feel a pair of eyes on you and you turn around. Nancy is leaning against the doorway behind you; she looks frail and distraught. There’s a sadness in her eyes as she watches the kids. You know that watching the boys reunite with their friend must remind her of Barb. She never got her happy reunion. 

You feel awful for the girl, so when her bittersweet smile drops and she turns to leave the room, you nudge Jonathan to make him aware of the situation. He sees her fleeing and begins to follow after her, but he stops. 

“What are you waiting for? Go.” You tell him, knowing it’s for the best. 

He shifts his weight, uncertain. “Are you sure?”

You’re not sure how to decipher the hidden meanings underneath those three words, but you find that you’re exhausted trying to keep reading between the lines. The feelings you’ve kept buried bubble to the surface, but you remind yourself that he loves Nancy, despite your weird moments of almost with him. There’s something there between you and Jonathan, you both can feel it, but it feels too raw and fragile to bring into the light. 

Without having to ask, you know that Jonathan will choose her. 

It breaks your heart, but you look over at Dustin and Will, who are laughing about some joke while Joyce gazes at them fondly, and you know that you can’t lose this. Maybe Jonathan knows this, too. The small family you’ve built together, it’s too precious to ruin. 

Joyce and your boys, you can’t lose them. They’re yours, and Jonathan is yours in a way that you can’t quite keep to yourself forever, but for now it’s enough. You approach Joyce, grab her hand and give her a tired smile, and the smile she returns to you reminds you that this is more than enough for you. 

You turn to Jonathan, pushing down your feelings once more in favor of appreciating the fact that Will is looking at you again, alive. “Go, bee.” 

Jonathan gives you one last look. You study his face for a moment, watching as it shifts from confusion, to hurt, then finally into acceptance. You’ll never be sure of what exactly he’d been thinking in that moment, but it seemed to have been enough for him, too.

He smiles, lets out a deep breath, and then leaves.

The door closes softly behind him. 

– 

A month later you find yourself in the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, tired from your shift at Bookstrordinary but excited to pick up your brothers. Somehow, even after missing three consecutive shifts last month, Mrs. Waters refused to fire you. 

But Jonathan? He hadn’t been so lucky. His boss fired him from the Hawk, but he hadn’t been too upset. He still drives you to and from work, so you suppose things could be worse. 

It’s late, but the two of you take your time driving to the Wheeler’s. Nothing much has changed between you two following Will’s reappearance. Sure, maybe you’re at his house more just to make sure Will is adapting well, but besides that everything seemed to go back to normal. 

Well, almost normal. 

Steve appeared at your job a few days after your conversation in the hospital. He had surprised you when you walked in, and when you asked what he was doing in a bookstore, Steve simply shrugged and said, “You can’t figure out my nickname if we don’t hang out, right? So, I’m here.”

He had become a regular at the store, stopping by whenever he could, and slowly the two of you became good friends. You’ve come to enjoy Steve’s presence, something that you never thought would ever happen. But he keeps you company as you work, he wanders around and explores the comics and books you recommend to him, and it’s nice having someone to goof off with. 

Plus, you did promise to add him to your baking list, so he’s also become your taste tester who happily eats any creation you bring in for him.

As for Nancy…

That was more of a sore subject for Jonathan. 

There was a few weeks following Will’s reappearance that you thought Jonathan and Nancy would get together, but it never happened. You’re not quite sure why, maybe it had something to do with Jonathan’s hesitation of approaching her, but it had crushed him when you and he saw Nancy and Steve making out in the hall as if nothing bad had ever happened. 

The way Jonathan’s face crumbled when he saw the couple only solidified that he’d never be yours, but you comforted him anyways. You told him he deserved better and then dragged him away. It’d taken him a few days, but eventually Jonathan was able to fake a smile again. 

You haven’t spoken about it since that day, but you leave your window open most nights for him to crawl in. The nightmares from that night fighting the monster plague you both, and the loneliness feels a little heavier than usual, but at least you have each other. 

“Jonathan! Y/N! Come in, the boys are downstairs.” Mrs. Wheeler answers the door, letting the two of you in. “And Y/N, I love that sweater on you.”

You thank the woman. “It was a gift from my mom. She claims I need to up my wardrobe, whatever that means.”

“Well, I think she has lovely taste.” 

“I’ll let you know you think so!” You open the basement door and motion for Jonathan to go down first. 

When he reaches the bottom of the steps, Jonathan makes a face. “Woah, what’s that smell? Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?”

“My vote is farting.” You say, hopping down the last step. Your ankle has mostly healed by now, but sometimes if you land on it wrong it makes a weird clicking noise followed by some pain, but you choose to pretend that it’s normal. 

The boys laugh and Lucas points at your brother. “Oh, that’s just Dustin. He farted.”

He begins making fart noises with his mouth and you and Dustin share a look. “Very mature, Lucas.”

The boy continues to sing and make fart noises and you can’t believe that this is your life. You’re standing in a smelly basement while picking up your stubborn brother all while simultaneously enjoying the fact that you get to call this your life. 

Jonathan calls over to Will to grab his things, so you follow suit and gently berate Lucas. “Alright, that’s enough. I gotta get Dustin home.”

“What, I thought I got to stay–”

“Jonathan is our ride and I made cookies, so let’s go.”

The moment the word “cookies” leaves your mouth, Dustin hops up and collects his things without any further argument. 

Once he’s ready, he and Lucas play wrestle as they say goodbye. While they’re distracted, you walk over to Mike and discreetly hand him a container full of double fudge brownies. You’d specifically made them for him, knowing they were his favorite, because you noticed how hard it’s been for him to adjust to El being gone. He really cared about her, anyone could see that. 

Mike’s eyes widen and he throws his arms around you. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You pat his back. “Anytime, Wheeler.”

Dustin breaks away from Lucas and runs up the stairs, so you take that as your cue to leave. 

Upstairs, Jonathan and Will are talking to Mrs. Wheeler. When they see you enter, the woman turns to you and asks if you’ll be bringing over your usual round of holiday treats. “Of course, I’ll get started on them tomorrow. You guys still like the sugarbread cookies?”

“If you make them, I think I’ll die of happiness.” Mrs. Wheeler informs you, and you laugh and tell her that you’ll have them ready as soon as possible. 

You bid her goodbye, Dustin now by your side, and you follow Jonathan and Will to the front door. Right before you open the door, Nancy calls Jonathan’s name from the top of the stairs. 

“Hey, Jonathan, wait up!” 

You, Dustin, and Will stand awkwardly in the back while Nancy hands Jonathan a wrapped gift and wishes him a merry Christmas. They share an awkward exchange since Jonathan hadn’t gotten her anything, but Nancy assures him that it’s fine. The interaction is painful to watch as Nancy doesn’t spare you a single glance. Dustin and Will look at you uncertainly when she kisses Jonathan’s cheek, but you ignore them and pretend to be interested in a Christmas decoration on the table.

This will never get any easier. 

“You ready?” Jonathan turns back to you guys, a blush on his face, and all you can do is silently nod. 

In the car you sit in the back with Dustin, who squeezes your arm in reassurance. He’s come to understand your complex feelings for Jonathan and has pieced together Nancy’s involvement. While he’s never outright consoled you, he’s shown his support in other small and wonderful ways. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, and Dustin smiles. 

“We all buckled up?” Jonathan asks as he starts up the car. 

“Yes, captain.” You mock salute. 

Will giggles at you before he sees the gift and looks up at Jonathan. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

You and Dustin lean forward so you can see what’s in the box. When Will unwraps a beautiful, and no doubt expensive, camera, you gasp. The bitterness and hurt from moments ago vanishes. This gift is from Steve, you know it is, and something warm settles deep within your bones. 

You think about last month, how you’d told him not everyone can just afford a camera. 

Seems like Steve listened. 

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all. 

– 

A week later you knock on the Byers’ door, a giant container of your annual holiday cookies in your arms. 

“Bug!” Jonathan answers the door with an excited smile on his face. His new camera is in his hands and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already taken a photo of you with your crooked earmuffs and oversized box of cookies.

He’s been using the camera ever since he got it. There’s now multiple pictures of you, always unaware or caught off guard, now hanging in the kitchen. It makes you blush to think about. 

“You didn’t even give me a chance to smile.” You complain, shoving your way inside. It’s snowing and you’re freezing. 

Joyce grabs the container to help you as soon as she sees you. “Here, honey. I’ve got it.”

You thank her and walk over to Will, who is drawing at the kitchen table. “Hey little bee. Whatcha drawing?”

“Hi, Y/N.” He slides over his picture and you’re shown a quick sketch of you and the party, this time fighting what appears to be a misshapen dog. “It’s a Dire Wolf, we’re fighting it in our latest campaign.”

“Ah, I see. Looks fluffy, though. Can’t possibly be a dangerous creature.”

Will rolls his eyes at you. “This is why you don’t play with us.”

“Careful, you’re sassing the girl who has just bravely ridden her bike through the snow to deliver her famous Christmas cookies.”

Will is out of his seat in an instant, running over to his mom, who has just placed the container on the counter. “Did you make the oatmeal raisin cookies?”

“Duh,” you snort. 

“And the chocolate chip?”

“I sure did.” You stand next to him and point at a new cookie you’re trying out this year. “This batch is a caramel banana one. Steve seemed to like it and I think it’s pretty good, so I hope you do too.”

Jonathan swoops over and kisses your head. “Of course we’ll like it, bug.”

“He’s right, you know. We always love whatever you make us, honey.” Joyce informs you, her mouth now full of cookies. 

“I’d hope so, this is like my fifth year making these for you guys. It’d be awkward if you hated my baking.” You say, now securing your earmuffs back on your head. “Anyways, I should get going. It’s Christmas, my mom won’t want me out too long.” 

Joyce looks out the window and frowns. “Did you really bike here in this weather?”

“It wasn’t too bad, I’ll be fine–”

“No. Jonathan, grab your keys and drive Y/N home.” She stares you down, daring you to argue with her, but you don’t. You know better than to argue with Joyce Byers. 

Once Jonathan has his keys, you say goodbye to everyone and wish them a merry Christmas. Jonathan throws your bike in his trunk and soon you’re off on the road. The drive is quiet but cozy. The snowflakes fall in a pretty spiral and there’s a soft song playing on the radio. 

Sometimes, if you close your eyes, you can pretend that the events from last month never happened. Will never disappeared. You never discovered that you love Jonathan. Nancy Wheeler never became friends with Jonathan, possibly something more had there been more time. When you close your eyes and sit still, you can imagine that your brother never has nightmares that wake him up screaming. That your heart doesn’t hurt when you make your best friend laugh. 

For a moment, you can forget. 

“Can we always stay like this?” You ask Jonathan softly, almost as if you’ll disturb the peace that winter has brought with its quiet snow. 

“Like what?”

You’re not sure how to express what you’re feeling. “This, us. Together.”

“Of course we’ll always stay like this.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. He says this like it’s a fact, the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Pinky promise me.” You hold your pinky up. You know it’s silly, but you need him to hear you, to understand what you’re saying.

Jonathan looks over at you. “Y/N–”

“Please, promise me, bee.”

He’s silent for a moment, seeming to understand the weight of everything between, around, and within the two of you. Then, he extends his pinky finger and wraps it around yours. “I promise, bug.” 

And you believe him.

[END OF SEASON 1]

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