#parents barely bat an eye at him disappearing for hours at a time so it works out......

[swordince]

👁️,, modernverse adam except he’s been part of a vigilante organization for like a decade,,,,

#rich kid gets caught up in a crime case & is accidentally super useful n gets recruited #parents barely bat an eye at him disappearing for hours at a time so it works out...... #if i went the marvel/dc route w modernverse (ie modern but make it magic) i could legit pull a shazam......... #thinking...... #ooc. what's going on ?

[thesharktanksdriver]

Magical Girl in Gotham (Platonic)

Part 1 Part 2 part 4

Sorry for the repeating lines of there are any, it’s tumblrs fault

Tag list: @harpy-space

Mention in the comment if u wanna be tagged for the next part :]

You drift between the world of conscious and unconscious, the Dream world and the waking world

For once you felt yourself dream, seeing the images of all those who had filled your once lonely life with joy

At point in your life you forgot to just sleep, to finally rest and not to worry for the next day

You were always so preoccupied with getting rid of a new batch of Shadowmites the next night or school or rent that sleep felt more like a chore

Wasted hours to be doing something important despite how Rigel told you it was unhealthy to avoid it

So for now you sleep and you enjoy it as you occasionally sense the distant feeling of someone sitting at your side

When you eventually do wake up your met with the sensation of warm blankets (compared to your thin ones) and a hand pressed against your forehead

When your eyes flutter open you see the sight of Jason, surprise in his face as you look up at him

You can’t get a word out before he’s hugging you tightly, mumbling “Jesus don’t ducking scare me like that. Thank whatever god there is that your ok”

He stays that way for a minute and you soak it up, noticing how he was wearing the uniform of red hood but without the mask

It doesn’t really surprise you but it now makes sense as to why you had a vague sense of familiarity when meeting him

That also answered who the rest of the bat crew was

When he pulls back he sees your stare down towards the large red bat symbol on his chest. “I had the feeling you rich people were crazy, but not crazy enough to be vigilantes to be honest. Seems like those online forums were right about you guys not being normal” whatever worry fades away at that comment

His laugh is loud and seems to echo out into the hallway through the opened door, footsteps quickly make their way towards the room

Damien bursts in, an unfamiliar teary look in his normally composed eyes

Jason has barely any time to pull a few feet away before his younger brother is repeating what he had done earlier

Damien’s gripping you as if he was afraid that when he pulled away you’d suddenly disappear

You hug your friend back, noticing the rest of the family peak in and be somewhat agast at the sight

Turns out you have a lot of explaining to do and so do they

Bruce/Batman himself is honestly disappointed in himself that you’d been doing this for years yet he had not even fucking know about it up till now

Even more so that Jason and Dick knew and didn’t tell him that an actual child is running around at night killing mystical creatures

He actually apologies to you personally that he should’ve noticed, but you quickly shoot that down telling him that was kinda what you didn’t want

Like him you set out on this mission to do it practically alone, you never intended to make friends along the way but somehow you did

He now knows why he saw himself in your eyes, you were him when he started off. Someone who was blinded by their goal of protecting others that they did not care for themself

He asks again if your parents know and now you answer honestly

You didn’t have any. You lived alone in a crappy apartment and barely got rent in on time

You see the looks given by all of his sons, how it goes from you to their dad and then back to themselves

After finding this out Bruce probably teaches you some more self defence since you only taught yourself through experience

He’s a good teacher, finding out what your strong suits are and helping you improve rapidly

Your style of fighting is a lot like dancing. Fluid motions and carefully placed steps, turns and pirouettes to dodge, quick attacks that happen within the blink of an eye

Your not like Jason or dick who can take large hits and can brute force their way though things. Your more agile and graceful

Bruce at some point helps make a schedule for you to properly balance your nightly duties and going to school

It’s much better than your own lol

Kinda feels better that most of the villains in this city absolutely love you and would protect you but also kinda worried cause they would literally kill for you

The only villains he actually trusts you with is the Gotham sirens and maybe Waylon on a good day

You’ve cause him to get so many extra grey hairs after hearing what you eat on a daily basis

How do you the energy to run around Gotham every night while surviving on cup noodles?!??

One time y’all appeared at a McDonald’s it was all over Twitter in the matter of minutes cause you have a cute magical girl and then Batman looming beside them as you asked for a nugget meal and ice cream for him

Sometimes he’ll be beating a villain and you’ll briefly stop by and everything is out on pause as you say hi to both

Honestly it’s the funniest thing for bystanders to see especially when you say hi to John or Tim the goon

Your Twitter famous and you don’t even have Twitter

Clark is texting Bruce why “Batman”, “magical girl” and “McDonald’s” is trending on Twitter

Damien is kinda upset at first before realizing that would kinda be hypocritical and now he has more of an excuse to spend time with you

Two besties just chilling on a rooftop of Gotham while Riddler sulks in the background

He definitely gets protective over you even though you can handle a lot of stuff on your own

It’s mostly out of the fear of losing you. You serve as a symbol to him, a sign that his life has changed for the better and he’s truly happy

At first he doesn’t like his brothers hanging around you but comes to accept it. He was just kinda scared you’d like them over him and forget him

Has a constant glare and only you can decipher his actual emotions

Your his translator for poor Gordon. Like Damien says something mildly insulting and then your like “he means to say he likes your tie and you did a good job out there. Keep it up 👍 “

Your his impulse control from threatening people and breaking bones

He probably pressures Tim into making you a com

At some point he tells you about his grandfather and mom. That turns out be a interesting conversation especially when learning there’s just a magical life giving pool somewhere under Gotham

He’s such a little shit to people who make comments about your outfit

He’s tearing down their entire self esteem

God help the poor soul who decides cat calling or making weird comments about you cause it’s on sight for him

Bruce had to hold both him and Jason back from “having a polite talk” with the guy. Bruce does allow glaring and yelling though

Y’all probably become a duo that Gotham Twitter freaks out over

Like, people be now using you two as “bestie goals” and you do a double take when someone mentions it at school

When you once took him over to your apartment he visibly does a double take and asks how you live like this

Brags to his brothers all the time about how he’s your best friend so he’s the favourite (he is)

Ra’s Al Ghul is more confused than Clark when he gets reports his grandson suddenly is seen with that “magic girl?” He’s also gotten reports about and the two of you are building the Lego bonsai set on a rooftop

You got him into Lego and he now has his entire room full of them and boobytrapped

Dick has unfortunately been a victim to this

Jason almost kneeled over and died again out of worry when he had brought you half dead back to the manor

So it’s safe to say he’s very realized your ok and now also basically under the protection of the rest of the family

He may still have some grudges against Bruce but he does admit that he can teach you better than he could in most places

But what Bruce can’t teach you is how to shoot!

Yeah so…he had you use your magic weapon and turn it into a gun form and has you practice with him

Most villains audibly sigh in relief when seeing the two of you together cause that means their chances of a bullet lodged in their side or spine being crushed is better

Takes you on his motorcycle and it’s super fun

He gets you your own personalized helmet even though you can technically make one via magic

Y’all quote so much shit from books that Tim has begun to catalog it

Scary dog privileges number 3

Sometimes while on duty he’ll stop by at a few cute looking stores and buy you stuff he thinks you’ll like

You don’t tell him you have more than enough pens as he gifts you one with a cute topper

He swears to god if that fucking clown even breaths near you he’s dead and there’s nothing Bruce will do to be able to stop him

Damien would cheer on in the background if that happened

He kinda helps Damien realize and process that it’s ok for you to have other friends and that they won’t be stealing you away nor will you replace him

Both have a lot of emotional baggage and who better to help unpack that than him

Takes a lot of convincing to do so first

Loves the what we do in the shadows tv show and WILL make you watch it with him cause no one else will…along with rue Paul’s drag race

They say red hood now has a handmade bracket

Dick is so joking about how he and Jason knew you first to Damien and Bruce

100% tries to convince you to have your costume to match his for at least a night , if you do so he’ll be supper giddy and get soooo many picture

Your half convinced he has a scrapbook somewhere from how many photos you’ve seen him snap of Radom moments

He sometimes mentions Barbra Gordon and it’s giving you vibes

Keeps showing up while your trying to have a peaceful dinner at the iceberg lounge, penguin shoo’s him away calling him a pesky bird

He always replies back that “but your the bird here aren’t you?, in the wing-” And almost gets shot every single time

He seems kinda embarrassed when people joke about his dump-truck, whatever that meant. You just assume he fell into one or something and don’t get the actual meaning

By god he tries to keep your innocence in tact. There are so many creeps in Gotham and he does his best to protect you from them

There have been situations he’s covered your ears and sent out death glares that can make some of the worst villains shiver in fear

Might’ve let Jason break a guys arm once cause he kept making gross comments. Never told Bruce about it but kinda knows he’d get a slap on the wrist

Audibly makes a gasp when you use a cartwheel in a battle and has a proud big brother moment while clasping a hand over his heart

While your hunting for shadowmites he occasionally drops by to give you something like a smoothie for energy

Loves talking with you about the juiciest hero drama he’s heard within the week

Your not sure how he learns all of what he heard but he was a way

Will watch whatever show or movie you want no matter what age range it was intended for. Like he will watch pretty cute or sailor moon and get super invested to the point he’s buying merch for both of you

He now has a sailor Venus keychain and a matching sailor moon one for you

Definitely has mock fake lightsaber battles with your magical weapon and his batons

He always lets you win but you don’t need to know that

When this happens he also does the full 9 yards to make his “death” as dramatic as possible

Piggyback rides galore with This guy cause he finds it fun and uses it as some sort of weight training

Speaking of which you and Damian have sat on his back while he does pushups. You and Damien made the logo millennium falcon set

Brice walked in and then walked right back out

That happens more than most would assume

When he has video game tournaments with Jason and Tim, he gets you and Damien to be the referees

What he doesn’t know is that Damien is kinda bias to whoever didn’t annoy him that day

Meaning Dick is kinda on a loosing streak as of late compared to either brothers

Has already begun placing photos of you and the family on the wall

Alfred did a double take when he first saw it but then just smiled and went on with his business

Both you and him help Alfred with cooking

Sometimes he goes to really crappy stores and buys all the cheap bootleg hero figurines

Once they make one of you he’s gonna beg you to make your uniform match it for a night

Dear god he has so many nicknames that some villains are now gonna start mocking him by using them with you

He looked really upset when two face called you one of them and then laughed at how his face scrunched up

Tim buys you a proper phone so he can now text you at midnight lol

Even sets up a Twitter account for your hero persona and its now followed by most villains within the city lol

People now joke that at this point your gonna reform most of them before Batman can

Speaking of jokes he sends you memes constantly. Lien you’ll wake up with at least 2 unread messages from him that are just memes he found

He thinks the funniest are the cursed pictures of his family with shit like “bottom text” or “Sœp”

He’s kinda that guy you can go to talk to about anything cause he will 100% know it even if it’s the most obscure piece of media ever

In his spare time he watches those 5 hour long essay videos for fun as background noise

Please watch documentaries with him, doesn’t matter if their lighthearted or serious cause he just wants someone to watch with him

Speaking of which, if you do this with him he builds the most elaborate pillow forts known to man

Please encourage him to at least get 6 hours of sleep a night,the bags under his eyes are already bad enough

Won’t object if your ask to paint his nails or style his hair. He probably finds it somewhat relaxing especially if you talk to him about something while doing it

He rambled a lot about whatever he’s fixated on at the time, you don’t have to respond but just show him your listening and he’ll feel really happy

Totally brags about getting the feeling you were more than what you seemed lol

He sometimes secretly uses the bat computer to watch Netflix or Crunchyroll and play horror games. He says it adds ambiance to the experience

You walked in while he was playing phasmophobia and he screamed

He once used axe body spray and no one will let him live it down, he has his head in his hands as Jason recounts the story

Everyone dreads April fools cause of him and he’s recounted to you his various escapades

Your favourite is when he programmed the Batmobile’s honk into playing “Barbie girl”

He plays video games with you constantly. Doesn’t matter what game you wanna play cause he will find it

On patrol he’ll text you to see how your doing and if you need either him or anyone else to stop by

Else tells you to stay hydrated despite the fact he’s being a hypocrite

He patrols Twitter somehow while being a vigilante and gives people the ban hammer if he finds them being creepy

There is no mercy from him and they’ll have their account temporarily banned or in some cases deleted

He acts all innocent about it as well

Alfred is honestly just happy your ok and now have their support during your night duties

Like he knows your on good terms with most villains but it still gives him an extra layer of comfort that you know you can rely on them for help

Like mentioned before he already planning your room out before Bruce even signs those papers. He finds out what style of room you’d like, interests, favourite colour and goes to town on that interior design

He still packs you lunches but now he has added more foods that give more energy and protein

Whenever you try to help him out with anything other than some cooking and giving Bruce his tea/time coffee he will deny it

You have enough stress as it is you will not put more on your shoulders

Bakes a lot of fresh sweets with even fresher berries from his and Damien’s secret garden

Whenever you don’t go to Harley’s for getting wounds patched up he does it for you

At this point he’s probably more qualified than 50% if Gotham doctors with the amount of fatal injuries he’s stopped

When Bruce gets kinda worried that you hang out with like 50% of the villains in the city he reminds Bruce of Selina and Talia

That shuts Bruce up real fast

Sometimes at night you catch him doing grocery runs, you help him carry bags back to his car

He sometimes talks about his family, growing up and watching as things rapidly advanced from that of his childhood

It’s pretty interesting, especially considering the batcave is filled with super tech that would go for millions

Once again your half convinced he’s some sort of immortal/god in human form with the amount of patience he has

Along with the fact he somehow balances cleaning an entire mansion and batcave

How he does this no one knows

God help anyone who gets on his bad side cause he’s pulling out the umbrella to teach them proper manners

Example, the guy who thought it would be a good idea to heckle you about wearing a skirt

That man is scared to walk the night knowing he’s still out there

Eventually one night as you made your last rounds across the city and said hi to Waylon along with drop by the iceberg Lounge you end up back in the batcave

It’s peaceful as usual, even as you go up to Bruce who has his mask pulled off with a soft smile

He holds out a paper, pen in his other hand that he offers to you

You nod with a smile and take it, signing your name down on it

Gotham is definitely in a stir when everyone wakes up to the news that Bruce Wayne had adopted a new child

Bruce got at least 1 individual call from each justice league member

#platonic #damien wayne x reader #dc x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #magical girl y/n #Batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #time drake x reader #Alfred pennyworth x reader

[taytrashmouth]

Make out to breakup

Steve Harrington x female Hopper-reader

Season 3 breakup

As amazing as your relationship with Steve was, it was sort of an unspoken thing that you had to breakup. You were both distant and working long hours, with Steve at scoops in the daytime and you working as the host at the hideout at nighttime you barely saw each other.

You loved Steve with everything you had but a part of you couldn’t help but feel you had more fun as friends.

You had known Steve from age 3 till 7 in preschool, then your dad, the chief of police (Jim Hopper) and your mom moved away to start a new life, a three years later your parents had a new baby (Sarah) , your little sister. Who was your favorite person in the whole world….when she was six she got cancer and by age seven she had passed.

Your mom moved out, leaving you with hop. She said she couldn’t even look at you anymore after Sarah because you brought back all the memories.

You had cried and screamed you were both sad and angry and your dad started drinking, at 17 you and your dad moved back to Hawkins for your last two years of school and to get away from that house, that empty home, a shell of what was.

You had reunited with Steve after a decade of being gone, and you liked him, but he was dating Nancy Wheeler. You kept to yourself mostly, books, sketches and phone calls with Steve were what kept you busy.

That was until you had gone looking for Dustin Henderson (the young boy you were babysitting) as he had disappeared. You had been all over town and the last stop was the Byers residence, a very beat up Steve had arrived at the same time looking to apologize to Jonathan.

You both got roped into fighting inter dimensional beings, steve had saved you from a demogorgon that night.

You were best friends for a long time until 1984 when Nancy broke Steve’s heart at Tina’s Halloween party, he had driven you home both of you slightly tipsy.

He had teared up as he pulled into his driveway.

“Steve?” You had called in a soft, caring tone.

He turned to you.

You just looked him dead in the eye before your eyes found their way to glancing at his soft lips.

He had moved forward before turning away.

“God we can’t do this!” He sighed.

You frowned

“Steve I like you.” You let out just loud enough so he could hear. “I always have I just- you were with Nance so-“ you rambled a little.

“Am, present tense, I am with nance.” He corrected.

“Steve…I don’t think you are.” You sighed, remembering what he had told you she said. Bullshit bullshit bullshit

“I am! And you can’t like me! I-I have a girlfriend and-“ he yelled and stumbled over his words which made you flinch. “God I mean- I-I like you too, there I said it! And I was doing just fine before you came back to Hawkins! Just fine with Nancy wheeler!” He yelled.

“God I’m so sorry for the inconvenience! Do you think it’s easy for me!? To see you with her?! I mean when I left I asked you to call me…I gave you the number-I-you never called steve.” The yelling had turned to crying and you felt so vulnerable and stupid.

“I didn’t call because I didn’t think you needed me.” He mumbled.

“I was away for ten years….and I didn’t have a single friend, and for ten years I waited for that phone call.” You cried staring at steve while he looked at his knees.

You shook your head with a sigh and got out of the car, you walked home that night and cried for a long while before falling asleep. Steve had cursed himself and replayed your words in his head over and over, he didn’t sleep.

The next few days consisted of being stuck with steve while helping Dustin, Lucas and max fight some demodogs, steve had saved you from one with his bat once again.

You tried to return the favor by saving Steve from billy Hargrove’s punches but you ended up getting knocked out yourself and having earned a black eye.

Once the evil had blown over you had helped El your new sister that you’d been hiding(who reminded you a lot of Sarah) get ready for the snowball, you let her wear the dress you never got to wear to your snowball because you had moved just before.

After being bored at the dance, supervising El with hopper you saw Steve drop off Dustin and he pulled up next to you and your dad asking if he could take you for a ride, awkwardly shaking hoppers hand. He reluctantly agreed.

The drive was silent for a long time.

“Question game?” Steve spoke up, it had been your thing when you were young asking questions to each other back and forth for hours.

You nodded.

“Who’s the biggest douchebag in the world?” Steve looked at you as he parked next to lovers lake.

“Oh easy, steve the hair Harrington.” You had answered flatly.

He sighed.

“I’m sorry.” He said, but you could tell he meant it, really really meant it, about the phone call that never came, about being an ass in general, his outburst, everything.

“I’m sorry too.” I half smiled.

It was quiet for a moment.

“The worst ice cream flavor?” You spoke up, steve smiled, he knew you had forgiven him.

“Mint.” He shrugged

“No way! I love mint it’s totally pistachio.” I laughed.

“I love pistachio!” He exclaimed, offended.

“Gross.” We both let out in unison and ended up laughing for longer than we should’ve but it was nice.

“Okay okay, weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?” Steve asked.

You looked down. “I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Oh come on you’ve gotta have one like mine is with Rebecca Linn, she was crazy y/n! Insane! Not only was she extremely kinky but I mean we had sex in her neighbors empty swimming pool while they were home….and they caught us!” Steve exclaimed.

You laughed a little shocked.

“Shit.” You smiled.

“Shit.” He nodded.

“Ummm, worst social experience you’ve ever had?” You asked. 

“You didn’t answer mine.” Steve frowned.

You felt your face get hot and you became flustered looking at your lap.

“I’ve never had sex.” You said just above a whisper.

“Oh…okay umm….fine that’s okay, then weirdest place you’ve ever made out.” Steve answered, he didn’t seem that phased.

You could almost feel the pink that had spread onto your face, feeling embarrassed.

“I’ve never really kissed anyone either…” you stated.

“Not even a peck?”

You shook your head. “Nope I’m a virgin in all aspects.” You awkwardly laughed.

Steve had an unreadable expression on his face, he looked almost baffled, or like he was thinking about something important.

“Look I know it’s weird I ju-“ your rambling was interrupted when his lips met yours, soft but passionate.

He slowly pulled away. “Well that’s a start.” He whispered and he kissed you again, more passionate this time.

And after you had gotten separate jobs and Steve was struggling to find a university, and his dad was on his back, while you had your dad constantly complaining about Steve and Mike (els boyfriend) you began to drift apart.

And as much as you liked her and hated to admit it you were jealous of robin, just slightly. You saw how they laughed and got on with each other.

All this lead to now, you, Steve, robin, Dustin and Erica trapped in a Russian elevator, miles and miles underground.

You were lying staring at the hundreds of miles of empty space on top of the elevator as Steve climbed up the ladder.

“What are you doing up here?” Steve whispered.

“Hoping this thing doesn’t start moving or I’m screwed.” You joked, sitting up as he sat in front of you, knees touching.

“Are you okay?” He asks, keeping a hushed tone through the conversation, not wanting to wake the others.

“I guess so.” You shrugged.

After a long silence you spoke up.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“This isn’t working is it?” The words came out like vomit, bitter and feeling so real now that they were out floating in the air.

He thought for a moment. “I don’t think so.” He answered and you both sighed.

“I’m sorry.” You half-smiled, tearing up a little.

“Yeah me too.” He was the same, tears brewing in his eyes with his lips turned up in an almost sad way.

You had closed your eyes which caused a tear to fall.

“God you’re making me cry too.” He sniffed, and you both laughed through a few slow tears.

You helped him wipe his cheeks and stared at each other.

“I love you.” He almost sang with the soft smile you had fallen in love with in the first place.

“I love you too.” You mimicked with a sweet smile that made him feel on top of the world each time he saw it.

“One last kiss?” You asked.

“One last kiss.” He nodded.

He placed a warm hand on your cheek and pulled you in, kissing you softly and passionately just like your first kiss had been. Your hand was in his hair on on his cheek as you both pulled away. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb.

“Goodbye.” You had smiled weakly.

“Bye n/n.” He returned the expression.

He lay down and you put your head on his chest staying like this for one last night, holding each other, taking deep breaths.

You were both sad, sad at the loss, the memories that somehow seemed slightly less important all of a sudden. But happy that you could start fresh, find the right people.

#stranger things #steve st4 #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve x reader #steve stranger things #steve harrington #y/n #st4 fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #season 3

[immortalecstasy-blog]

You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth 18+

Chapter 21/26 Pairing: Eddie Munson / Chrissy Cunningam Need to catch up? Click Here for Chapter One or View Full Work on AO3

When Chrissy finally woke up, she was mute. People are sympathetic at first, but when she doesn’t magically get better, she slowly finds herself as one of the ‘freaks’. Lucky for her, there’s one freak in particular she really doesn’t mind finding herself beside. 

Warnings: Slow Burn, Angst, PTSD, Chrissy still got attacked by Vecna but didn't die, Eddie still got mauled by bats but didn't die, Hurt/Comfort, Abuse.

The hazy days between Christmas and New Year passed by in a blur of sleeping in and days of not getting dressed. Wayne’s sleep schedule was thrown completely out of sync and the four of them – The Henderson’s and the Munson’s – spent their days just playing boardgames or watching crap television.

The adults disappeared from time to time, running errands or whatever it was grown-ups left the house for. Eddie and Claudia teamed up to work on his next Dungeons & Dragons campaign, incorporating Claudia’s sweetheart-fighter more than Eddie had originally intended as she’d gone to the effort of not just naming Thamior Sianndol (which admittedly, she had taken from the suggested names in the players handbook) but selecting his race and giving him an entire backstory which she had nervously presented to Eddie in her spidery handwriting.

Chrissy had another hydrotherapy appointment, but because her dad wasn’t at work he’d insisted on going with her, so Eddie had had to miss that one. Which was infuriating because it had been one of few and far between chances to actually see Chrissy, and he’d gone to the effort of getting her physical therapist – Emily – a Christmas card.

The half-cocked plans for a new year celebration never really came to fruition, Steve’s parents were still at home and everyone else had too many parental rules or didn’t have enough space for the entire party.

Chrissy was at a ‘family’ party, but Eddie was in her room when she got home in the wee hours, giving her a ‘Happy New Year’ kiss more than two hours after midnight had been and gone.

It was when he was walking home from this early morning excursion that a bat – an actual fucking bat – flew overhead. He ducked instinctively, and then – miraculously – found himself laughing. The thing was no bigger than his thumb if you ignored the wingspan. Nothing on this plane of existence – apart from perhaps Laura Cunningham – could be as terrifying as the shit he’d seen on the flipside.

He was still shaking his head at himself as he snuck back into his room and climbed into bed.

“And he was just there, in your room?” Nancy asked, pushing the cotton balls in between Chrissy’s toes.

“Yep, stuck in through the window. No idea how long he’d been waiting.”

“He’s so love-struck it makes me sick.”

Chrissy laughed.

“Then again… so are you.”

Chrissy didn’t even try to defend herself. “True.”

Nancy smirked, glancing up at Chrissy as she picked up the bottle of nail polish Chrissy had picked out.

“Did you go to Jonathan’s for new year?”

“Yeah. Mike went too – No idea what mom and dad got up to, but they got a sitter for Holly, so they must’ve done something.

Nancy gave the bottle a good shake and then paused, “Eleven is being… weird.”

Chrissy nodded in agreement as Nancy unscrewed the lid and wiped the excess off the brush on the lip of the bottle.

“She’s losing weight.” Nancy added.

“I know. I tried to speak to her at mine and Eddie’s graduation party thing. But… she didn’t want to know.”

“Do you…”

“Do I think she’s like me?”

“Like you were.” Nancy corrected; her eyes focused on Chrissy’s toenails as the obnoxiously bright yellow polish slid across the bare nail.

“I don’t know.” Chrissy admitted, “But there’s something.”

Chrissy paused, watching Nancy concentrate on painting the tiny canvas of her pinkie toe.

“Vecna caught you, didn’t he?”

“Briefly.” Nancy admitted.

“Do you still dream about it? Or… have nightmares?”

“Sometimes.” Nancy admitted. “But not for a while.”

“Oh.”

Nancy jerked her head up, accidentally overshooting with the brush and streaking Chrissy’s foot with yellow. Cursing, she picked up the nail varnish remover and a cotton ball to fix it.

“I take you still do?”

“Not Vecna.” Chrissy explained, “But… the upside down.”

“Just the upside down?”

“I don’t know.”

Nancy stayed silent, cleaning up the messy paintjob and putting her hand out for Chrissy’s other foot.

She was almost finished when Chrissy spoke again.

“It’s… whispers. I can’t understand what they’re saying. But I’m just… stood outside Eddie’s trailer, but… the other version, and I just feel this… desperation, like somethings missing. Like… I don’t know.”

Nancy finished the foot and looked at it critically.

“What colour are we doing yours?” Chrissy asked.

Nancy pulled off her socks and sat her feet in Chrissy’s lap, eyeing up the polishes on the bed. “Hmmm… not yellow. Why have you gone for yellow?”

“No one sees my feet anyway, and I just fancied something bright.”

“No one?”

“Nope.” Chrissy answered easily, examining the colours. “How about blue?”

“Purple?”

“The dark one?”

“No, the lilac-y one.”

Chrissy nodded. Picking up the nail polish labelled ‘Lavender’.

“Are you still working for the paper?”

Nancy hummed the affirmative. “I’m re-applying for colleges though. I… I got into Emerson last year, but… after everything I just… I didn’t want to leave. I think they’ll let me in again though.

“That’s good.”

“What about you?”

“Still thinking about it.” Chrissy admitted. “I’ve got time.”

Nancy nodded in agreement, looking at her toes. “Oh. I hope it dries like the colour on the bottle.” She said, scrunching her nose at the colour.

Chrissy put the brush back in the bottle. “Shall we wait five minutes? See what we’re dealing with?”

Nancy nodded. “Did you hear about V C Andrews?”

“Yes!” Chrissy exclaimed, remembering how sad she’d been to learn of the authors death just before Christmas. “One of the papers said they’re going to get a ghost writer to finish the Dollanganger series.”

“Ewww.”

“I know…” Chrissy sighed, “I don’t have high hopes.”

Nancy tittered in agreement, and they sat in comfortable silence as they waited for the paint to dry.

“No. I don’t like it.” Nancy said finally.

“Blue?”

“Blue.”

Eddie and Wayne had another few days before they were due back at work, and Wayne didn’t seem like he was trying to get back onto his usual schedule at all, spending all day awake and relaxing with them all. He drove Dustin around, insisting it was too cold to pushbike whenever he wanted to go see a friend or go to the arcade, helping Claudia make dinner.

One night, when Eddie was sneaking in from visiting Chrissy he caught him making his way down the hall from Claudia’s room back to the spare room he’d claimed for his own. Neither of them said a word to each other as they pressed themselves against opposite sides of the wall, passing in the darkness, heads downcast.

Eddie was convinced that their night-time encounter should’ve been less of a shock for his uncle – it was an unspoken secret that Eddie regularly disappeared for hours at a time, if not for the whole night, but Eddie still wasn’t about to say anything about catching his uncle sneaking out of Claudia’s room.

The next morning, however, his uncle would barely look at him, and the day after that he absconded completely.

He came home just intime for dinner, Chrissy hadn’t managed to sneak over but they had Steve and Robin over, and even those two – not knowing Wayne all too well – noticed something was up and scarpered after dessert instead of staying to watch television like they usually did.

Eddie forced himself to stay awake as first Dustin and then Claudia made their way to bed, leaving just the two of them in the living room, some terrible soap opera re-run blaring out the screen.

Eddie noticed Wayne breathe in to speak once or twice, but he bottled it and said nothing. The soap opera grew to such bullshit drama that Eddie couldn’t pretend to watch any longer and scooped up his guitar. Dissecting and then playing the outro of the soap just for his own amusement.

“Ed.”

“Hmmm?”

“You remember… you know, when the trailer got… condemned, or whatever.”

“Yep.”

“They offered me a house.”

“Yeah.” Eddie remembered, his brain already racing twelve steps ahead and forming his own conclusions which resulted in a rather scathing look towards his uncle.

“It’s not… much. Two bedrooms though.”

“And?” Eddie asked coldly, ready to put his foot down about wanting to stay with the Henderson’s. A small part of his brain reminded him that if he got his own room again it would make things simpler for him and Chrissy, and that he’d been thinking of finding a place himself - but he wasn’t about to let that get in the way of the family unit that had developed over the last several months.

“The mortgage is paid off. It’s just sat there.”

“So?”

Wayne sniggered.

“What?” Eddie asked.

“I thought you might want it.”

“What?” Eddie asked again, his tone changing completely.

“You’re a grown boy, job, girlfriend.”

“We don’t take hand-outs.” Eddie pointed out.

Wayne sighed “I don’t know what happened. That night, those weeks. Why they slung our trailer into Area fifty-one crap… I don’t know. So yeah, for me it’d be a hand-out. Buying my silence on shit I know nothing about anyway. I get the feeling we ain’t in the same place on that… you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“You think maybe, after everything that went down, maybe you deserve a… a reward?” He saw Eddie scowl and backtracked, “If not you, then… maybe Chrissy?”

“What?”

“She deserves more than that hag of a mother.”

Eddie hit a bum note on his guitar and lowered it to the ground as Wayne held up a set of keys.

“What about you?” Eddie asked finally.

Wayne grinned at him, “I think I might stay here.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows, but Wayne didn’t have any more parting wisdom as he threw Eddie the keys and made his way to bed – not his bed. Claudia’s.

So, Wayne had finally accepted a new house from the state, all fully paid for and in his name in return for him keeping silent about the inter-dimensional portal in his trailer. That had been shock enough for Eddie. But it was even more of a shock for poor Dustin when he found out Wayne had handed Eddie the keys and moved his things from the spare room and into Claudia’s room.

So now Eddie had a house, apparently.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. When he first thought Wayne was suggesting they both leave he’d been ready with some very colourful language about his opinion. He wasn’t fully sure of what his opinion was now.

If Claudia and Wayne were bunking up, surely Eddie could take over the spare room. Give Dustin his space back. If he was only thinking about himself, that would probably be his first choice. But Wayne was right about Chrissy.

He knew she’d rejected all the alternative options he’d presented her with over fall break. But all those options had been dependant on the goodwill of others, and he knew as well as Wayne did – how shitty that felt.

This was different.

“It’ll be weird, having my room back.” Dustin admitted one night when they’d both gone to bed.

“Dude, I’m barely here anyway.”

Dustin giggled, “Well no, but you’re usually here when I go to sleep. It’s… nice.”

“This your creepy way of saying you’ll miss me?” Eddie asked.

“Oh, I won’t miss you.” Dustin told him confidently, “I heard Wayne. There’s two bedrooms.”

“Hey! No! No, you don’t get my spare room.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because I said so!”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s my house.”

“It’s Wayne’s house.”

Dustin dropped the subject, but Eddie heard him huff in annoyance.

“I’ll miss you too.” Eddie admitted, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Of course – and you can’t have the spare room, but, I dunno, I guess you can stay over sometimes.”

He stayed on Dustin’s floor for another couple of days, until Dustin had finally told him to just ask her – for gods’ sake.

“Okay fine.” Eddie had said, climbing out of bed, not even bothering to pretend he didn’t know what Dustin was talking about.

“Where are you going?”

“To ask her.”

He had walked the ten minutes to her house, made the awkward climb up to her bedroom window, and slipped into bed beside her, still dressed. His chest pressed up against her back.

“Just me.” He had whispered when she’d finally stirred as the blankets had re-settled.

She’d reached wordlessly behind her, capturing his cold hand, and pulling it tight against her.

It amused him that she didn’t seem surprised, acted as if he broke into her house and stole into her bed every night. She buried her face in the pillows tucking his hand up against her cheek.

“Chrissy.”

“Shhhh.”

“No, Chrissy I need to ask you something.”

She twisted over so that she faced him, his arm falling to the small of her back, as she blearily opened one eye.

“Are you real?” She asked, frowning,

“…Pretty sure.”

“Then it can wait.”

Eddie stifled a laugh, “You’re serious?”

Chrissy hummed, wrapping her arms around him, and burying her face into his chest.

“You feel real.”

“I am real.” He told her, smoothing back her hair. He wondered if this was just a very sleepy Chrissy or if the medication she still occasionally took to help her sleep had sent her a bit loopy.

She peered up at him from between the wayward strands of hair. “Okay.” She agreed after a moment, “Ask me.”

“You want to get out of here?”

“Now?”

“No, I mean for good. Do you want to move in with me?”

“Into Dustin’s?” She asked, perplexed.

“No, I’m a homeowner now.”

She lifted her head off the pillow and squinted at him.

“Hero perk – well, technically ‘government bribe’, but… I like to think of it as a hero perk.”

She considered him for a moment, and then nodded. “Okay,”

“You don’t want to know where the house is?” He asked.

“No.” Chrissy told him, turning away from him again and shuffling back so that her body curled into his.

“I don’t care.” She explained after a moment.

“No? What if it’s a cardboard box at the back of the arcade?”

“Is there room for two?” She asked sleepily.

“Yeah.”

“I like the arcade.”

He laughed, burying his face in her neck, and inhaling her smell.

“Soon?” He asked.

“Tomorrow.” She answered, reaching behind her to take his hip in her hand and pull him even closer.

“Tomorrow?”

“Mmm.”

“What’s your mom going to say?”

Chrissy played with his hand, splaying his fingers before threading her own fingers into the gaps, and tucking their hands up against her chest.

“You know… I don’t care anymore.”

“No?”

“Nope.” Chrissy confirmed, popping the ‘p’, and wriggling backwards to press against his body.

When she woke up the next morning, she was curled up into Eddie’s side, one of her legs circling his own and trapping him there. She realised with a sinking feeling that her pyjama bottoms had ridden up around her knee, exposing the worst half of her scarring. She tried to reach to pull them back down, but the movement stirred him.

He’d been lying on his back, letting Chrissy use one arm as a pillow. Now he opened his eyes and yawned, absently scratching at his chest. It took him a moment to figure out why she was lying at such an old angle, but once he realised, he simply took hold of her hips and pulled her higher up the bed, battling with the duvet so that it draped back over her legs.

“Do I really get to move in with you?”

“If you want to.” Eddie answered, playing with a strand of her hair.

They stayed in bed way too long. Chrissy’s parents were awake and moving about the house, it wouldn’t be long before one of them came to check in on her.

When she finally admitted defeat and climbed out of bed, he still lay there in the tangle of sheets.

He watched her get changed, removing her pyjama top, and putting on a bra, a t-shirt, and a jumper with sleeves long enough to fall past her fingertips. He was pleased to see her ribs were nowhere near as visible now.

She had changed without any self-consciousness whatsoever. But then she clammed up and stood looking at him with a pair of jeans in her hands.

“You want me to close my eyes?” He asked.

The look of vulnerability that crossed her face took him right back to the day Vecna had got her. He’d never minded always being in the dark, as much as he had longed to see her face, to examine every inch of her. The recent discovery of thigh high socks had made that a reality. But he hated why. Hated that she thought so little of herself.

He didn’t know what the answer would be long term, but he already knew from experience the best way to reassure her, it had just never felt like the right time.

“You think I haven’t seen a pair of legs before, Chrissy Cunningham? C’mon. You’re not that special.”

She was startled into laughter, looking over at him with that same incredulous but amused look she so often cast his way.

“Well, No. You’re special. Like, e-special-ly weird. But your legs, eh, they’re just what keep you moving, right?”

He sat up, and then stood, undoing his belt, and then taking off his jeans.

“What are you doing?” Chrissy asked, looking at him like he was a fascinating exhibition at the zoo rather than a boy casually stripping off in her bedroom.

He pointed to the mottled shiny scar on his leg where a chunk of him had been ripped away.

“That was the bats…” he explained, and then pointed out an obvious bite mark. “Also bats…”

He led her through all his scars, including the discoloured rectangles on the back of his thighs where they’d borrowed the least damaged skin to graft over the most damaged parts.

“That one?” She asked, looking at a shiny one under his knee.

“That is a very very heroic tale.” He told her seriously, waiting for her to ask again before saying “Nah, I fell off my bike when I was a kid.”

Chrissy laughed and watched as he pulled his t-shirt off too and lifted his arms to expose his sides. She had seen him shirtless many times before. But he’d always been blindfolded whenever she’d studied them with her hands or mouth, so she let him present them to her. His torso was honestly more scar tissue than it was skin. There was one scar, on his side, below his ribs, that she knew bothered him. She’d often caught him rubbing at it as though it ached.

His legs had definitely gotten off easy, protected to some degree by the thin layer of denim perhaps.

The one on his side was an ugly beige colour, bigger than her hand, as if he’d just had a part of himself torn away – which, Chrissy knew, was exactly what had happened. She had felt the uneven tissue beneath her fingers that first time at Reefer Rick’s but had been too lost in the moment to pay any attention to it. Had politely kept her eyes cast somewhere else every consequent time the scar had been on show, giving him the same kind of courtesy, she was asking of him.

But she looked now.

“This one went all the way down into my lungs.” He told her matter-of-factly, putting his arms back down.

“See?”

“See what?” She asked.

“You really think your scars look as bad ass as mine? Think you can beat this?” He asked, pointing to the scar on his side. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

Chrissy shook her head, rolling her eyes, but the grin on her face wasn’t going anywhere.

His smug little grin disappeared when she pushed him back onto the bed though. When she stood in front of him and slowly slid her pyjama bottoms down and stepped out of them.

Eddie was staring resolutely at her face until she gave him a little nod.

He stroked down her thigh gently with one hand, still gazing up into her face as he felt the dips of each circular scar, she flinched as his hand passed her knee and he paused.

“They’re ugly.” She whispered.

“Chrissy, there is nothing about you that’s ugly.”

He took her hand, straightening her fingers and turning her wrist so they were both looking at the back of her hand, the lines of scars slicing down each finger and down to her wrist. He kissed each knuckle, reaching for her other hand to kiss every scar he found there too.

Slowly, giving her all the time in the world to stop him, he lowered his head. Casting his eyes over her legs with a painful ache in his chest, when he bent down to stroke her calf, she rested one hand in his hair. He wondered how she actually felt about his scars. They were asymmetrical lumpy horrible things compared to hers.

He looked back up at her when he’d carefully examined both legs. Taking in each shiny surgical scar, each pockmark that showed where she’d been literally pinned back together. The scars of a survivor.

“Yeah, I was wrong.”

“What?” She squeaked.

“They’re pretty fucking special, actually.” He grinned and she smiled back at him in relief, her cheeks reddening.

“They are not just legs for a to b travel. I should have known. They are… the most beautiful legs I have ever seen.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Chrissy ducked her head, stepping away to pull on her jeans with shaking hands. “You should probably go.”

Eddie threw his clothes back on, and then moved to stand beside her, his fingers running through her hair as he cupped the back of her neck and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“What are you going to say to your folks?”

“Nothing.” Chrissy joked, holding up her whiteboard.

Eddie grinned, “Okay, smart ass. What are you going to write?”

Chrissy beamed and then laughed, “I have no idea.”

“Well good luck with that.” Eddie teased as they moved to her window.

He didn’t have the same dexterity and Steve, but he’d made the climb a couple of times now and it was getting easier.

“You could just write them a letter and leave it on your bed. No confrontation required?” He suggested as he lowered himself down. Chrissy leant on her windowsill, smiling.

Her mother was never going to change. No matter what people said, there was always a point where you had to draw a line. Even if that meant turning your back on your own blood. Family didn’t always mean what it should.

“Maybe.”

They kissed, just a quick meeting of their lips before Eddie dropped down.

There was a strangled cry from out on the street and Chrissy looked out, freezing in terror as she saw her mom at the end of the driveway.

“You.” Mrs Cunningham spat, pointing at Eddie. “Inside. Now.”

Eddie briefly considered running, he might have done if Chrissy wasn’t still upstairs and at risk of her mom’s wrath. But he wasn’t the running sort anymore.

With a quick glance up at Chrissy, he turned towards the front door. Only slightly amused that in the many times he’d been inside, this was the first time he was using the front door.

“Sit down.” Mrs Cunningham had demanded, pulling out a chair. “Phillip!” She shouted as Eddie sunk down into the dining chair, “Phillip. Get in here.”

Mr Cunningham appeared in the doorway, looking from his wife to Eddie and back again.

“What’s going on?”

“I just caught him climbing out of Chrissy’s window.”

“He… what?” Mr Cunningham asked, frowning. “Should I…” He made a gesture, clearly asking if he should go and get Chrissy.

“Sit down.” His wife instructed, and so he did. Taking the chair furthest from Eddie and looking at him with evident concern and dislike.

“Do you want to explain yourself?” Mrs Cunningham asked.

“Not really.” Eddie answered honestly, “You don’t want me to explain myself either, do you? You’ll just hear what you want to hear.”

“Don’t you play smart with me. I know what you are. What you’ve done.”

“I could say the same about you.” Eddie said, crossing his arms and getting comfy in his chair.

“I just don’t understand it, why her? Why our Chrissy? Why did you have to pick her to corrupt for your satanic worship?”

“Oh Jesus Christ…” Eddie sighed, exasperated, “Here we go.”

Why did it not surprise him? That even after catching him leaving their daughter’s bedroom, Mrs Cunningham was more concerned about the temptation of the devil than something normal.

“It’s all your fault she’s so broken.”

“She isn’t broken.” Eddie said through his teeth.

“Not broken?” Mrs Cunningham scoffed. “Ever since you came into our lives, you’ve corrupted her, silencing her, fattening her up, turning her against me.”

She kept going, a litany of insults and woes for her useless daughter. For all the work she had put in to make Chrissy thin and popular, to have every chance of success. But now only the lord could fix her, the devil had corrupted her, broken her beyond repair.

“She’s. Not. Broken.” Eddie yelled, his hair vibrating with anger. “I tell you what. Let’s break every bone in your body and see how quickly you get over it, huh? I’m sure Phillip here has a hammer in the garage, we could do it now! I’d be more than happy to! I saw what you did to her arm that day you stood losing your shit on the Henderson’s doorstep. And I know – I fucking know – that’s not the first time you’ve put a hand on her. Starved her. Or how about you get it through your dense skull and into that pea sized brain of yours that you fucked her up long before now. Huh? What? You didn’t notice she was puking up her dinner every day? I God damn noticed ---”

“Don’t. You. Dare!”

“I fucking noticed! and I only ever saw her in the hallway between classes. She was living under your roof you selfish – you nasty – piece of shit. I mean Jesus Christ.”

“Get out! Get out of my house!”

“You blame me all you want, you evil bitch, but you know just as well as I do that you’re the one who’s going to be burning in hell, not me. Who the fuck does that to a teenage girl? To their own fucking daughter? You know that thing only targeted her because you’d already got into her fucking head and gave it a way in?”

Mrs Cunningham was slowly turning purple.

“This was your fault.” Eddie spat, pointing a finger at her. “I don’t give a flying fuck what you think of me. But I will never ever let you in her head again. You won’t ever touch her again. Do you understand me?”

“Who the hell do you think you— “

“It’s no wonder your son fucking killed himself, I would too if I had a mother like you.”

Mrs Cunningham’s eyes flicked to the doorway and Eddie turned, regret pooling in his stomach as he saw Chrissy was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide.

“Chris… I’m sorry.” He half-whispered, his cheeks reddening.

“I think you should leave.” Mr Cunningham said finally into the silence. He looked uncomfortable but defensive, his eyes kept darting back to Chrissy and Eddie knew he only now realised the effect his wife’s obsession had had on his daughter, maybe was only just connecting the dots for the first time.

“You stay away from our daughter.” Mrs Cunningham spat.

“No.”

It was so quiet Eddie thought he’d imagined it. But from the way Laura’s jaw had dropped, he knew he hadn’t.

“Chrissy?” Her dad asked. Chrissy flushed crimson.

“I said no, Mom.”

Mrs Cunningham was speechless, staring at her daughter, the purple draining from her face until it was ashen and grey.

Eddie licked his lips. “Chris, you um, do you still want to get out of here? Come live with me?”

Chrissy almost rolled her eyes. He could have played such a power move if he hadn’t doubted himself, doubted how much she cared about him. But it was sweet that he had simply asked, hesitant and unsure, even after defeating her dragon. Even with her parents right there in the room. She gave her dad a small, apologetic smile. Then looked back at Eddie and nodded.

“Now?”

Chrissy’s nose wrinkled as she smiled and nodded again.

“Well okay then.” Eddie agreed, with a small sigh of relief.

“Live with him?” Mrs Cunningham demanded, “With – with – Chrissy! That is enough of this foolishness! Go to your room and stay there while I deal with this.”

“No, Laura.”

They all turned to stare at Mr Cunningham, even Eddie.

“You’ve said your piece.” He continued, “She’s… she’s a grown girl now, you can’t stop her. All you’re doing is driving her away from us.”

“You want to let her go and live with Eddie Munson? Where are they going to go? The trailer park? You want her to be knocked-up trailer trash with no college education? No future?”

“I want her to be happy.” Mr Cunningham told her, finally raising his voice. “And so help me Laura if you don’t let her go, then I will.”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll leave, Laura.”

“You don’t mean that.” Mrs Cunningham spat derisively, but after a moment there was a flicker of unease in her eyes as the idea sunk in. “You don’t mean that.” She said again, more desperately.

Mr Cunningham turned to his daughter, “Pumpkin, I’m so sorry…”

“Daddy…”

Mr Cunningham’s face twisted and he held a hand up, shaking his head. “You… you take my keys. Load up my car, I’ll take you, okay?”

He turned to Eddie, inspecting him unhappily.

“You do anything to hurt her, you’ll have me to answer to young man.”

“Yes sir.” Eddie replied seriously.

Mr Cunningham thrust his hand out with an expression that said he would regret this until his last breath. Hesitantly, Eddie reached out and shook it.

When Eddie got back home, he was immediately ferreted away into the room he shared with Dustin without being able to get a word out.

“Well, the hell have you been?” Dustin demanded, “Dude. Tell me you did not spend the night at Chrissy’s. I know you didn’t go to Ricks, your vans out front. Do you know how much trouble she’d have been in if you were caught?!”

“Wait, so, you… don’t want to know what she said?”

“You didn’t chicken out?”  Dustin asked, looking stupefied.

Eddie raised his eyebrows, scowling.

“Well, what did she say?!”

“Well – for you information, Butthead, I have only come back to collect my things.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Oh, yeah, man, she and her dad are packing up her things as we speak.”

Eddie cackled at Dustin’s expression. “I know dude.” He sympathised, clapping Dustin on the shoulder. “Ol’ Phillip Cunningham is a bona fide hero.”

#hellcheer #eddissy #eddie munson #eddie munson x chrissy cunningham #eddie x chrissy #chrissy cunningham #chrissy this is for you #st fanfic

[nate-dallas]

i expected more. [drabble]

Write a scene starring your character in high school. Use the prompt “I expected more.”

February 2007–

“I swear to god, if you don’t catch the damn ball next time, I’m going to ram that bat so far up your–”

“Tyler!” Coach Rimes’s voice boomed from the dugout, cutting off the young male.

It was almost baseball season, and as usual, the Wilson High School Tigers Varsity Baseball team were practicing. School was over nearly three hours ago and the boys haven’t left campus since. The baseball field was littered with the players taking their positions and practicing their skills.

Tyler Kelton, the team captain and a junior, was in a mood. He’s been in a mood all day and it’s spilled into practice. The other boys were on edge. They were so afraid of Tyler’s current vibe. In an attempt to not make him angrier, they were overthinking and not playing well. It showed when the catcher, another junior named Gavin Michaels, fumbled the ball during a simple, regular play.

Tyler was on the pitcher’s mound, practicing his throws. His eyes were shooting daggers at poor Gavin, who avoided Tyler’s gaze at all cost. Gavin grabbed the ball and threw it back to Tyler but it was such a poor throw that the ball landed at Tyler’s feet.

“Okay, that’s enough practice. Go home, get some rest. We’re back out here tomorrow and if you guys don’t bring it, we’re running laps.” Coach Rimes removed his baseball cap to fan his hair back before placing the hat back on his head. He gathered up some equipment, his clipboard, and his whistle, before disappearing into the Coaches Office.

The boys collected their own stuff and made their way to the locker room. Tyler was the first one in and he slammed the door open so loudly, it banged against the wall. The rest of the team filed in afterwards, knowing what was coming. The look on their faces was a mixture of annoyance, whether at Tyler or how they played remains unclear, but the atmosphere in the room was highly negative.

“What the hell was that?!” Tyler nearly shouted as the boys sat on the benches, some undoing their shoes or taking off their baseball caps.

“Dude, watch it.” Nate spoke up, staring hard at his best friend. They were classmates throughout middle school, but became closer in high school. Nate, like Tyler, was in his junior year.

“You,” Tyler immediately turned and pointed to Nate, “you barely caught that curveball earlier. Don’t sit there and tell me to watch it when you couldn’t even watch the ball yourself.”

Nate pulled off his baseball cap and grabbed his bag out of his locker. He stuffed the hat inside. Some of the other players followed suit, obviously desperate to get out of there.

“If we play that way against McKinley or Roosevelt, we’re going to lose. We might as well be the laughingstock in the league. Do you want that?” Tyler warned, his eyes scanning each young man as most of them refused to look at him.

“Obviously we don’t, but come off it man,” Nate said, exhaling a defeated sigh as he finished packing up his bat, glove, and extra baseballs. He zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder while staring at Tyler, who turned right back to look at him. “Fix your attitude before practice tomorrow. Don’t stress the team out any further than they already are.”

Some of the players started slipping out of the locker room after they packed up. Tyler was too enraged to even notice. If he did, he didn’t seem to care. He balled up a fist at his side, and Nate carefully watched his best friend, hoping he didn’t decide to just punch one of their players.

Nate knew the team looked rough today. Hell, he didn’t play a great practice either, but he had other things on his mind that he couldn’t shake. He finally got his next door neighbor to agree to see a game and it made him nervous. She never saw him play before and he was anxious about it. During their game against McKinley High, she was going to be in the stands with his parents. He might be a little thrilled about it but he was determined to not let it show.

But of course, Tyler didn’t know that. If Tyler knew Nate was thrown off his game by a girl, he would never hear the end of it.

“If we end up running laps tomorrow, I will personally kill every single teammate with great pleasure,” Tyler gritted his teeth. The words were aimed at Nate, but his eyes were looking at the remaining members of the team scattered throughout the locker room.

Nate suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. While he knew Tyler was joking, some definitely would not look at it that way, and he didn’t want to do anything that would further impact the climate with the leftover team around them.

“Ty, enough. We had a bad practice. It happens,” Nate reasoned, making his way toward the exit along with a few of the other players.

“That is why you weren’t voted captain,” Tyler spat in Nate’s direction, “because I expected more.”

Nate inhaled sharply, shifting his bag to his other shoulder. He didn’t care about being captain, like Tyler did. He didn’t campaign for it, like Tyler did. He didn’t threaten people for votes, like Tyler did. Yet Tyler seemed to rub it in Nate’s face whenever he got the chance.

“Alright Ty,” Nate said, wanting the argument to be over. “See you tomorrow.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t want one. Nate shoved the locker room door open and walked out. The door swung to a close behind him and the awful practice drifted from his mind.

#drabble #roleplay

[bloodycassian]

A FEAST - Azriel x readder. Prompt - Reader is injured and knocked out for days. Cassian gets him to finally leave your side for one meal and Nyx brings a guest with him...

"The Dragons Song is the best one, hands down." Nesta argued, hacking through the brush.  "That one is full of the same scenes every time." You judged, pushing a branch out of the way. The jungle was a mess of twists and turns to work through, but thankfully one of the fishermen on the dock had sold you a compass at a descent price. "A little more right for a few more miles and we'll be there." You steered her on course.  "At least it dosent say 'honeydew' every scene." She made a fake gagging noise and you laughed. The sound was muffled in the crowded forest. She hacked her way through the brush, one vine at a time. Until you finally reached the clearing. It was hot in the direct sun, a few degrees different than what the shade of the forest had been. You paced the perimiter, meeting her at the other side. "You mean Cassian dosen't like honeydew?" You wiggled your eyebrows at her.  "Az does?" She challenged, earning a laugh from you. "The ones that you like are predictable beyond measure." You countered, earning a quick smile before your attention snapped across the meadow. To a giant hog serpent with venomous tusks that gleamed with their clear liquid. You swore and you and Nesta both drew swords at the same time.  + Nesta ended the hog, but not before it had the chance for those razor sharp tusks to marr your legs with deep wounds. The venom stung, flowing into your bloodstream and paralyzing you slowly. You gasped at the sheer blinding pain it brought. "Nes-" You choked out between sobs. "Tell Az... Tell Az I love him." You smiled to her, putting a hand on her cheek. "No, no way. You're gonna tell him yourself. Stay awake. We're on the way." She reached deep to that bond to Cassian, and a flare of alertness greeted her. Then, a thrill of fire. "On the way. Rhys will be there in a few. Are you okay?" "Fine, she's delirious. She needs a healer and a detox for the venom." She thought back, sighing when she felt Rhys' presence. "Wheres Az?" You managed out of your chattering teeth. You were losing the fight against the venom quickly. It would have you under in a few minutes if Rhys didn't hurry to a healer. He placed a hand on you and darkness surrounded.  "Cassian will-" He started to Nesta, "I know, get her safe." She rushed, urging him to winnow you already. When Cassian saw the amount of blood spilled, he cursed.  "Most of it was the beast." Nesta cleaned her sword on an overgrown leaf that jutted down into the meadow.  Her hands shook when she sheathed it. "Nes." He stopped her when she turned. "Nes..." He repeated, giving her a long look. She tried to hide her face, the terror there. "Lets go." He pulled her to his side and took off, holding her close to him. He said nothing about the tears that flowed to his shoulder. He just gripped her tighter.   + Azriel had nearly broken the door when he stormed in. And he hadn't left your side since. Nesta stayed when she could, letting Azriel relax enough to sleep now and again. He trusted her to wake him if anything changed in your status.  When he woke, he heard his brother's voice first. Quiet an hurried in tone, him and Nesta argued by the door. "He wont leave. You've already tried, just leave him alone." Nesta was scolding. Cassian gripped her hands, then whipped his head over to his brother when he saw him stretching on the bench.  "Hey Az-" Cassian smiled, bounding over to his brother like a puppy. "You remmeber Madja saying it may take up to a week, right? How about you come to dinner up at the house with us."  "I dont want to miss if she-" "Come on, Nyx will be there. Mor's coming back from the continent tonight too." Cassian tempted, poking at the old flame Azriel carried for the female. She was still incredible, and one of Azriels best friends, but he no longer felt that flame towards her. You had come along and crushed it with a bat of your eyelashes and a few quick witted insults at Cas. Nesta started pulling him away, giving you an apologetic smile. "It would be nice for you to be there is all he means." She began pushing him out the door, despite his protests.  "Think about it! She wouldn't want you to be mourning while she's alive!" Cassian shouted, earning a smack from Nesta. Azriel smiled despite the dark nature of the situation. He pulled a chair up beside your resting body. It had been three days. How would he know if you were awake or not? He tugged on that dark link you shared together, and came up with the same unresponsiveness as before. He sighed, but took your hand anyway, falling asleep again to the sound of your soft breathing. + He decided to stay for just an hour. He would spare his family that much. He kissed you goodbye and tried his best to ignore the guilt he felt for leaving you behind. But Cassian was right. He knew that when you woke up you'd be upset about him not going. So he put on his brave face and flew up to the house of wind, to the joy of everyone. They clapped upon his arrival, making his cheeks burn. Mor gave him a hug and promised to catch up. But she hovered around a fae you hadn't met yet. A female that she watched with wide sparkling eyes. Azriel's chest bloomed with pride at the sight of them being so close, so full of life for each other.  He looked away from the two, and sent his shadows out to Rhys. And found what he was seeking. He darted over to the end of the table where the high lord and lady sat across from each other. The head table was empty, and filthy. "That's a small monster if I've ever seen one." He bent and scooped Nyx up from under the table. He wriggled and laughed.  "No monster Azzy." Nyx babbled, pulling on his uncle's hair.  "No pulling hair!" Rhys scolded, making Nyx laugh even more. Feyre sighed. "You're just having fun. How about we go for a fly down to-" "Don't say it, Az." Rhy's tone went from scolding to pleading. Even though the baby couldn't fly yet, it was one of his favorite things to do. He could see how Rhys' son would be skilled at flying with just the way he angled his head when accompanying. Az poked at Nyx's belly and they fought like that for a few moments, Nyx eventually winnowing away with the joy only a child could have.  Azriel froze, looking to the high lord and lady for comfort. Having a baby disappear in your arms was strange, even for Fae babies. "When'd he start doing that?" "Four days ago." Feyre sighed. She looked utterly exhausted. "We've been having to take turns staying up with him." Rhys held her hand across the table, they shared a sweet look together then they both whipped their heads to Nyx in unison. "Dont-" Feyre warned, giving her son a stern look as he pulled at the tablecloth. Amren gave the boy a look of discouragement as well when he looked around for someone to be laughing with him. He stopped after those silver eyes met his.  Nesta gave Az a smile from across the room where she and Cassian welcomed the toddoling boy. "Let's start training, Nyxie. Come on, show me what you got." Cassian got on his knees to the floor and the two began wrestling together. Azriel took a seat beside Rhys, picking at the crackers and cheese platter before him.  "When were we planning on going back to the Island?" Rhys asked, voice low. Cassian rolled with Nyx on the ground, making Nesta laugh when the boy pulled at Cas' hair. "I'm not going until my mate is healed. Maybe you should send them, see how much trouble they can get in."  Az asked, trying to keep the hinting out of his voice. He wanted to go take care of it on his own. The mission on the Island was not complete and he didn't want to risk anyone again. He'd rather do it and make sure it was a finished job. He couldn't bare to see you be hurt over a fellow Valkyrie getting hurt either. "You know they would kill each other.... or themselves trying to protect the other." Feyre smiled despite herself. She knew it was the truth. Her sister being happy for once was a joy like no other.  "Mom and Dad need to eat, Az you too." Cassian ordered. He bounced the boy on his legs, making him pretend fly. Azriel picked at the plate that appeared before him. The warm meat and stew looked incredible, but he couldn't bring himself to eat. The guilt was the only thing that weighed in his stomach. "I should go check on-" He began to say, folding his napkin back on the table. "How is she?" Cassian interrupted from the floor. Nesta was playing with Nyx now, rattling a toy around for him. Azriel kept his calm mask on, trying to fight the urge to check on you. The black haired boy looked to her with upset eyes. "Auntie?" He said, voice a bit whiny.  "Auntie is napping, she'll be back in a little while." Nes assured. Azriel's heart squeezed at the love Nyx showed. Then, the boy was gone.  The parents were digging into their plates. It was likely the only meal they'd shared together in the four days of taking turns watching Nyx. "Rhys-" Az began, terror sweeping his gut. Nyx was no where in sight. Nesta and Cassian both shot to their feet when they didn't spot him.  Then, the plates in front of Azriel clattered and shot food everywhere. Mor and her date yelped and fled their chairs, mor pushing the other female behind her. Azriel's shadows coiled, siphons glared ready to fight.  And Rhys didnt move as he observed the waking fae before him. The tug on Azriel's bond went taut. "Auntie here!" Nyx celebrated, patting your chest. You groaned and cracked open your eyes to see Azriel's shadows swirling about you. "Are you okay?!" Azriel gripped your shoulders,  his warm hands seeping into your thin shirt. The sweats you wore were now stained with whatever food had been on the table. Rhys put down his fork slowly. "I wasn't expecting to be this kind of snack Az..." You said softly. Rhy's cheeks went red. Mor laughed first, her date looked to her with bewilderment and worry. Cassian rushed over and picked Nyx up from your stomach. "I think there's a fork in my back." You said, voice gruff.  A hysterical laugh bubbled from Azriel, then the rest of them were cracking up. "Nyx... Thanks." Azriel breathed, and the boy began clapping.  + Once you were back on your feet and Madja had given you the go ahead to take it easy, you asked Azriel to go on a walk with you. The stretch of your legs was sore, but the good kind of sore that left you feeling better and better with each step. The cool wind from the Sidra whipped around you. He wrapped a wing around both of you as you reached the apex of a bridge.  "I owe that baby everything." He laughed, squeezing your hand tighter. The city was quiet, only soft music coming from the Rainbow and the calm trickle of the Sidra sounding out. "Nyx the Valkyrie deliverer."  You laughed together, leaning against the railing on the bridge. The streetlights above cast a wonderful color over you, illuminating you both in a silvery shade that matched the moonlight. "I love you." You said, resting your head against his shoulder. It had been a long night, and who knew how long of sleeping... but you were tired.  "Love you." He nudged you away so he could hook his finger under your chin and angle you up to kiss him. You wrapped your arms around him and compiled, letting the bond hum through you like a song.

#azriel x reader #acotar fic #azriel #perfect-peach-bouquet

[invalid-prongs]

“For who could ever learn to love a beast?” from Beauty and the Beast, except I’m making it Starchaser because I miss writing about them </3 Also, the Gryffindor password is “venom of the snake” but in Italian, just in case you didn’t know.

It burns far worse than Regulus thought it would. He keeps wondering if there’s something wrong with it—there’s no way it should burn so much after having weeks to heal.

He clutches his left forearm between his thighs in an attempt to ease the pain and bites into his right hand to stop himself crying out. It’s kind of late and waking up his dormmates doesn’t seem like a bright idea.

Asking his parents for help is useless—they would just tell him to get on with it surely. The look of disappointment in his brother’s eyes would be too much to bare. Who else could he turn to?

With a deep, shaking breath and silent tears trickling down his face, he slowly peels back the covers of his bed and slips out from the green and silver sheets. He scans the room to make sure the other lads in the room are fast asleep before pulling his right hand from his mouth and using it to grasp his wand.

Regulus waits until he’s stood outside of the Slytherin entrance before waving his wand and muttering “Lumos” under his breath. The wand lights his way down the endless corridors as he drags himself around the castle, thinking of places to go. The burning in his arm doesn’t cease, even when he presses it to the cool stone walls and steps outside in the softly raining night.

It hurts and adds another layer of regret onto the Slytherin lad.

After what feels like hours of aimless wandering, too scared to visit the hospital wing, Regulus turns to head back to his dorm room. He can suffer through the next few weeks, and if it gets exceptionally bad, he can go to Hogsmeade one weekend and find something to help.

Before he can reach the Slytherin quarters, however, he’s stopped by the light tinkering of footsteps heading straight for him. He gasps softly, waving his wand behind his back. “Knox,” he mumbles, pressing himself flat against the wall as another figure steps around the corner.

“Hello?” a voice calls out and Regulus curses himself silently for picturing them in his mind. “Hey, is somebody there? You can come out, you know, I’m not a teacher or anything.”

Regulus takes a daring breath but doesn’t reveal himself. The person chuckles softly. “Hey, come on, don’t make me feel crazy.”

There’s nothing else for a few moments as Regulus screws his eyes shut and holds a hand to his mouth to muffle his breathing. But then there’s a lit wand in his face and the wide grin of one James Potter. “Gotcha. What are you doing out here at this time of night, Reg?”

He swallows thickly, trying to hold back the pain in his voice. “M-My name is R-Regulus, y-you know.”

James’s elegant face twists slightly. “Hey, are you alright? You sound like you’ve been crying?”

The Slytherin clamps his lips shut and shakes his head, but the Gryffindor isn’t fooled. He reaches softly for Regulus’s arm—his left one since it’s the closest—but it’s snatched away quickly.

They stare at each other for a few moments, wide eyes. James’s expression is hard for Regulus to decipher; he’s hurt, confused, and it causes the younger lad’s guilt to flare. James steps back slightly, allowing Regulus to fall out of the shadows.

“It’s hurting you, isn’t it?” James whispers into the darkness, and all Regulus can do is nod pathetically and whimper. James sighs and runs a hand through his unruly hair, assessing the situation. After a moment, he sighs again and holds out his hand. “Come on, come with me.”

He doesn’t trust James fully—what if he takes him to Madam Pomphrey, or worse, Dumbledore? But Regulus takes his hand anyway and lets himself be pulled in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

“Veleno del serpente,” he nods to the portrait, who twists her nose at the sight of a Slytherin buts lets them through anyway. Regulus is terrified of entering, because he’s sure there’s a rule specifically against entering the wrong house even on accident.

There’s probably a rule against having the Dark Mark, too, he figures to himself, ad follows James down the small tunnel. When they step into the empty common room, Regulus is hit with the warmth and comfort of the place, and the fire roars to life.

“Wait here,” the elder pushes him onto one of the sofas and wraps a blanket around his shoulders. “I’ll be right back, okay?” he disappears up the spiral staircase and Regulus just sits there, his eyes trained on the burning fire.

He thinks he should probably look around. Investigate the mighty Gryffindor house whilst he can. But his left forearm is turning numb, and not for a good reason, and his shoulder feels like it’s carrying the weight of a brick. He inhales sharply, willing himself not to cry again, and James reappears from the stairs with a small tray and a box.

“My mum is a healer,” he explains slowly, setting everything down on the coffee table and kneeling in front of Regulus. “She taught me some things, and I always have supplies for Quidditch accidents and such. Can I see your arm?”

Regulus pulls his left arm behind his back and shakes his head. He himself has avoided looking it as it as much as he can, and the thought of showing it to not anybody, but the proudest Gryffindor on the planet who is violently against everything Death Eater related…

But James’s  eyes are so soft and welcoming, and when he smiles gently and whispers, “I won’t judge you, I want to help you, Reg,” his voice is like velvet, and all Regulus can do is offer forward his arm and turn his head.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus chokes out when James gasps softly. “I didn’t—I had no choice.”

James simply shushes him softly by resting a hand on his knee before getting to work. Every movement is fluid and gentle, as if he’s cleaning a priceless artifact, and not just helping to stop the burning of a Dark Mark. It doesn’t hurt much, just a few stings, but it feels uncomfortable when James waves his wand over the snake and it writhes on the younger’s arm.

He tenses and automatically pulls away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” James soothes him softly. “I just needed to cast a spell, but I guess it didn’t like that.” He chuckles softly, and Regulus takes enough comfort in the sound to let a smile tug at his lips.

“Guess it didn’t.”

James works for a few more minutes, and by time he’s finished, Regulus can barely feel the mark. James flicks his arm experimentally, and Regulus flinches softly, so he’s assured he hasn’t lost all feeling in his arm.

Their eyes meet for a moment, flickering with the fire in the background. “How can I repay you?” Regulus asks gently. “I—you really didn’t have to help me. I’m sorry if this made you… uncomfortable.”

“You don’t have to repay me with anything. I would hate for you to be in any kind of pain, love.”

At the slip of the name, Regulus blushes softly and James clears his throat. They look away for a moment until the Slytherin dares to peers through his eyelashes to see James staring straight at him.

“I missed you,” he mumbles before he can stop himself, almost smiling at the way James cocks an eyebrow in questioning. “Over the summer. I kept thinking of you. I was… I was half tempted to come and see you before… but I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

James tentatively reaches up a hand and wipes a tear Regulus didn’t know was falling. “It’s okay, I understand. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I missed you too. Sirius is nice, but he isn’t quite the same.” He winks at the end of his sentence, and Regulus can’t help spitting out a small giggle.

James bites his bottom lip softly, one hand still on the younger lad’s face, the other moving to rest on his knee again. Regulus knows they have a lot to talk about, and probably won’t get it done in one night. He knows he should be going before someone finds his empty bed or walks into the Gryffindor common room. But instead, he bats his eyelashes at James and tips his head down ever so slightly.

“Can I…” he trails off softly, waiting for James to pull away, maybe even yell at him about how he’s a Death Eater and they’re on opposite sides and they can’t.

But James doesn’t. Instead, he nods so softly that if he didn’t whisper a soft “yes” then Regulus would have thought he imagined it.

Their lips connect in harmony, and they melt together like they did every other time they did this. It’s as easy as anything, and Regulus can feel every negative emotion, every horrible feeling be flooded with the absolute adoration he has for the boy in front of him.

And then Regulus pulls back sharply to stare at James with his eyes wide and jaw slackened because he’s in love with him.

“Sorry,” James rocks back on his feet and pulls himself up off the floor. “Fuck, uhm, I’m so sorry, I didn’t… we can just… I don’t…”

“I love you,” Regulus whispers, raw and rough, and James shuts his mouth, honey-brown eyes snapping to meet an ocean of grey-blue. “I-I’m sorry, but I love you.”

James doesn’t reply straight away. He just sinks onto the sofa and reaches out, running a finger against Regulus’s bottom lip, which is red and slightly swollen. And then he smiles wider than he ever has, pearly white teeth almost blinding the room, and he laughs.

“Don’t be sorry, don’t ever be sorry. I love you too,” he replies, and Regulus reaches up a pale, aristocratic hand on James’s. “I love you more.”

The younger lad goes to protest, but his words are swallowed by another kiss, and when he wakes in the morning, stretched on the sofa with his limbs tangled with James’s, all he can do is smile and thank whoever controls fate that after everything that has happened, given everything that is and will happen, he’s found somebody who can still love him.

#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #james x regulus #regulus x james #death eater #dark mark #angst #fluff #one shot #harry potter #marauders #gryffindor #slytherin #jegulus one shot #starchaser #starchaser one shot

[earlgreydream]

fatigue.

| draco malfoy x slytherin!reader | fluff | angst |

requested: Hi I was wondering if maybe I can get a Draco x Slytherin reader where she hasn’t been taking care of herself(depression and burn out) but kept it from Draco and she faints when they are spending time together

tw: anxiety/depression, being genuinely overwhelmed

a/n: i’m a slytherin and i feel this one

You were overwhelmed. You spent hours in the library, pouring over your textbooks and notes, barely eating. Sometimes a sympathetic friend would set a cup of tea or a biscuit beside your books, but you were too focused to eat much.

“Y/N, come on, it’s time to sleep.” Your roommate grabbed your textbook from you. 

“No, I’m almost done with this chapter!” You protested, but she held it out of your grasp.

“It’s almost two in the morning. You’re done.” She argued, setting your textbook aside.

You laid on top of your duvet, and she turned the lights out. You stared up at the forest green canopy above your head, your brain unable to stop running a million miles a minute. 

Once you heard your roommate’s breathing even out, you silently got up and grabbed your book. You drew your curtains closed and lit your wand, finishing the chapter and falling asleep a couple hours before you were off to potions.

“Shit, oh fuck!” You swore as you overslept. You dragged your robes on, trying to tie your hair up as you ran through the halls toward potions. 

“Miss Y/L/N? Care to explain why you’re late?” Snape’s cold, monotone voice made everyone turn their heads as you walked in late.

“I overslept, Professor. It won’t happen again.” You apologized, moving to take your seat beside your boyfriend, Draco.

“Are you alright, love?” Draco asked you softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. 

“M’fine,” you mumbled, batting his hand away from your face. You looked down at the potion, tears making your vision blurry. You rubbed your eyes, brushing the tears away before Draco could see.

“We’re on step four.” Draco showed you, and you helped him finish the potion.

“If you’re late again, you’ll spend the evening in detention with me. Understood?” Snape asked as he came over and stood over your table.

“Yes, professor.”

Your day got worse from there, and you skipped lunch in favor of getting some extra time to plant your mandrakes in herbology.

“Y/N!” Draco’s voice startled you as he came up to you.

“Draco?”

“Come on, love, we’re going to cheer on the Hufflepuffs during their practice for the tournament against Gryffindor this weekend.” He tapped his wand to your book, making it disappear from your hands.

“Babe-” you tried to argue but he was already pulling you toward the field to watch your friends practice.

Draco worried about you. He had noticed you were busier. He was used to you lying on his bed and watching a muggle film on your tablet, or playing games in the common room. Over the last few weeks, you were always studying when he even saw you. Draco wasn’t stupid, or oblivious, but he didn’t want to corner you and cause you to push him away.

He watched you smile up at your friends whizzing above your heads, and you cheered for Cedric as his fingers closed around a snitch.

You suddenly felt lightheaded, and you grabbed Draco’s arm.

“Y/N-?” He turned just as you collapsed, and he caught you before you hit the ground. He shouted your name, and hufflepuffs dropped to the ground around you, a couple flying back to the castle to get madame Pomfrey.

“Y/N, wake up!” Draco failed to bring you back to consciousness, carefully holding your head as you were draped over his lap.

“Get off, I’ll take her to the infirmary!” Pomfrey lifted your body from Draco, and he followed close behind.

You slowly woke up to find yourself on a cot with white sheets. You looked up, blinking in the dark, the only light coming from the moon through the window and lamp at the bedside.

“How do you feel, love?” Draco’s voice came softly from beside you, and you turned your head to see him sitting next to the bed.

“Sleepy, my head hurts a bit.” You said, and he kissed your hand.

“You fainted. Pomfrey said your body is under a lot of stress, and you hadn’t eaten in a couple days,” Draco’s voice was soft, no trace of anger in his tone. The concerned showed made tears start to slide down your cheeks, the dam breaking as you began to sob.

“I can’t do this. I can’t keep up with everything.” You cried, thoughts of your family’s disappointment flooding your mind.

Draco sat down beside you and pulled you into his arms, kissing the top of your head. 

“It’s okay, love. You’re doing great, it’s just time to slow down a bit,” Draco reassured you, rocking you gently.

“Why didn’t you tell me it had gotten so bad, Y/N? I could’ve helped... You know that you can always come to me.” 

“I thought I had it under control,” you sobbed, gripping the white fabric of his shirt that was quickly soaking with your tears. 

Draco hushed your sobs, promising you that everything was okay. You were excused from class for the rest of the week, all of your work disappearing so you could rest. 

“You’re going to sleep, and eat, and just rest, okay?” Draco kissed your forehead, cleaning your face gently. You nodded weakly, letting him carry you back to the Slytherin dorms, and back to his private prefect suite. 

You took a bath, and he sat on the counter, listening to you vent about your exhaustion and frustration with class.

“Snape makes me feel so stupid, and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t please him. And he’s friends with my father, and if my parents find out, they’ll be furious. I can’t disappoint them.” 

“I’ll take care of Snape. Your parents aren’t going to find out. And from now on, I’m going to help you study, and help you keep it all under control.” Draco promised, moving to the edge of the tub and dipping your head back, washing your hair to soothe your anxiety.

“Feel better?” Draco’s voice was serious, the slight sternness in his tone giving away his worry.

“Yes, I just need to eat and sleep.” You nodded, looking up into loving silver eyes as he dried you off with a fluffy towel.

“There’s food on the coffee table,” Draco said, holding up one of his shirts for you to slip into.

He spent the entire night watching over you and getting you to relax. You finally slept well for the first time in days, curled up in Draco’s arms. His hold on you was tighter than usual, even in his sleep he wanted to keep you protected. 

#anon request #draco lucius malfoy #draco fluff #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco x you #draco malfoy blurb #draco blurb #draco malfoy fluff #draco headcanon #draco malfoy headcanon #hogwarts #harry potter #fanfic #dracotok #draco angst #draco malfoy angst

[soldrawss]

Sol i need headcanons for the brothers, please im begging you

BRUH I GOT YOU

I’m currently working on some little fics for them BUT I CAN GIVE YOU SOME DETAILS BECAUSE I’M DYING TO SHARE

(Warning, gets a little dark towards the middle, but overall fine. Sorry for the long read. I went for a DEEP dive on the Age Gap Au)

Ace was put into foster care 4 hours after his birth. His father died before he was born and his mother died during childbirth. Ace had nothing to his name but physical traits of the dead (Like his father's sharp eyes and his mother’s freckles) He grew up with a need to prove himself and to gain something that truly belonged to him all on his own.

Sabo was placed in foster care when he was 5 because of an altercation with his abusive and possesive parents, involving him having broken ribs and running away.

Ace and Sabo met in a halfway home for troubled youths when they were 6. (They both had issues with authority and past placements in foster homes, so they quickly bonded over that, and decided to stick together ever since)

Their bond was so strong that ‘honorary’ brothers didn’t really fit them. They were brothers. And they stuck together and stood up for one another like it was them against the world (which sometimes it was)

They would often run away from the halfway home they were at, trying to earn a living on their own on the streets, and often commit petty thefts in order to survive. 

These little runaway trips wouldn’t last long though, because they were always caught by Officer Garp, a police officer that happened to have a knack for catching little runaways.

However tough Garp acted though, he had an incredibly big soft spot for these two little brats that were only trying to make their lives better. These two kids, barely 8 years old, who had so much hatred for the world because of adults in their lives that failed them. Adults that hurt them, giving them scars and bruises on their hearts just as easily as the scars and bruises on the little frames. 

After a particular runaway incident, Ace breaks down and confesses about all the horrible placements he and Sabo had been in before. How social services always judge Ace’s sharp eyes and label in a problem child, how Sabo’s quick wit always get him in trouble with the adults, how they both have scars and bruises from past foster homes they were placed in, and that's why Ace and Sabo runaway. They’re tired of getting placed in bad homes. They’re tired of having adults try to separate them. Ace is all Sabo has and vice versa because that's the only person in the whole world who they trust to not hurt them. And Garp thinks that’s the last fucking straw.

Garp, much to Ace and Sabo’s but nobody else’s surprise, adopts both the boys, and takes them into his own home. Because dammit, if they’re just gonna runaway, they might as well stay with someone who will at least love them enough to always look for them and bring them back to a good home when they do.

And it’s weird at first, because Garp is the rough and loud and nosey officer that used to grab them by the scruffs of their shirts and drag them back to that awful halfway home kicking and screaming. But then it gets better. Because he still yells at them, but it’s with a tempered and fiercely protective love it when he does. He still grabs them, but it’s just to pull them into a rough bear hug that they fervently pretend they don’t like. And every dinner is spent with tears of laughter in their eyes and cheeks warm with delight at the stories he tells them. (They call him old man with affection and he’s their father figure even though they treat him like their grandpa.)

Sabo joins his school’s baseball team! Which is so freaking cool! He’s a really strong batter, can weild a bat like it’s an extension of his own arm, and Ace and Garp are always the loudest cheers on the bleachers every home run hit Sabo makes.

Garp makes Ace take up boxing, because the kid’s got a lot of pent-up rage and aggression, and he figures it’s a good constructive sort of therapy for the rowdy brat.

The two still get up to mischief every now and again, though. Nothing illegal, but Garp is still having to wrangle up his two little idiots before they do something stupid. (They get into a lot of fights with local gangs because they have smart mouths and are still a little reckless)

Garp has a biological son that Ace and Sabo never met due to Garp’s and Dragon’s strained relationship. Garp had always bad-mouthed him whenever his son was brought up, but it was always with words that had no heat behind them, and Sabo and Ace could tell there was a sadness behind his eyes whenever he looked at the picture of his son in his wallet.

The boys were 10 when they got the news of Dragon’s death a week after it happened. Garp had gotten the phone call when he and the boys were watching some late-night trash tv on the weekend, and he had all but strangled the phone in a grip that turned his knuckles white. He didn’t say what had killed his son, (he never did), but he had told the boys he needed to take care of something, told them to pack up some of their things, dropped them off at his friend Newgate’s house, and got the quickest flight out that night.

He came back 3 days later, and when he did, he had a tiny little baby with him.

Ace and Sabo were no strangers to babies. There was always some snot-nosed kid that would get dropped off at the halfway home (and then adopted that week, because everybody loved babies), and they were pretty sure this baby wasn’t gonna be any different. Because babies were loud and gross and never stopped crying, and Ace and Sabo were prepared for the absolute worse.

But then they stood over the baby’s crib to get a good look at him, and the baby looked back.

And smiled the biggest and happiest smile Ace and Sabo had ever seen.

And Garp had said “His name is Luffy,” and Ace and Sabo had been hooked around his little finger ever since. 

Luffy was barely 6 months old, and was a bundle of chubby cheeks and contagious giggles. With big brown chocolate colored eyes that melted all the sharp corners and edges of Ace’s and Sabo’s hearts.

Because Sabo and Ace were the same age, and neither one of them felt like the older or younger brother. They were equals in every way. But it was different with Luffy. Because Luffy was tiny, and soft and could barely wrap all 5 of his little fingers around one of theirs, and it hit Sabo and Ace like a bullet train because oh.

 Oh this is what it was like to be an older brother. This was what it was like to have a little brother. And Sabo and Ace have always looked out for each other, of course. But Luffy was something they had to protect fully and with their entire being. His smile, his laughter, his heart. All of it. Sabo and Ace knew all the horrible things in the world, knew all the hatred and fear and heartbreak the world could throw at you and it was like a silent promise to each other they never verbalized, that Luffy should and would never have to go through the things they went through. He would never feel unloved. He would never feel unwanted. He would never feel like he had to prove his worth or reason for existing. (He was worth more than any price anyone could give anyway)

Sabo and Ace stopped getting into trouble. They got good grades, excelled in their respective clubs, and didn’t give Garp any reason to chase them down in his old cop car and bring them home. (They were always at home anyway, giving Luffy piggyback rides and teaching him how to ride a bike and do one-handed handstands and cartwheels, and basking in the warmth that was Luffy’s endless love) And they lived in peace like that for 5 years.

Then the fire happened.

Garp was a good police officer and an even better Deputy Chief, and for almost 40 years, he served on the Foosha County Police Department. He had put away a lot of bad guys and saved a lot of people in the process and was an honored and highly respected man. However, this also made him a big target and earned him quite a few enemies. He was 3 weeks away from retirement and spending most of those weeks staying at home, playing with Luffy, and ingnoring the last of his paperwork left on his office desk.

When the fire broke out, Ace and Sabo had just turned the corner from the bus stop on their way home from school. They had seen the smoke, but didn’t know where it was coming from till they saw the towering blaze of fire that used to be their 2 story home and the group of neighbors surrounding the outside. 

They managed to push their way to the front, hands shaking and eyes wide and absolutely breathless, because that was their house! That was their house that was one fire and where was gramps?! Where was Luffy?!

The only thing Ace heard Sabo whisper among the roar of the fire and the loud murmur of people around them was “Do you hear that? That... crying?” Before Sabo surged forward.

Ace didn’t have time to reach out and stop him, and by the time he could, Sabo had already disappeared into the open front door, which was covered in flames. He had screamed out, tried to race in and follow his brother into the flames, but the neighbors around him were quicker than he was and pulled him back. 

Edward Newgate, one of their neighbors and close personal friend of Garp’s was in the crowd, and he was holding Ace to his chest with an arm like an iron bar, as he was on the phone with the local fire department. (Newgate was also the Foosha County fire chief, and was shouting at his lieutenants to “get your asses out here now!’) But Ace didn’t hear a word he was saying. All he could do was struggle to get out of the older man’s grip, reach out for his brother and best friend, and scream his lungs out.

What felt like hours went by, and Ace felt like his heart was shattering into a million piece, the glass shards falling around him, as he sobbed into Newgate's chest, thinking he had lost everything. His home. His family. His only purpose and reason for living.

And then some of the neighbors were shouting again, only this time in surprised alarm and Ace looked up with hazy eyes blurred by tears, to see something was coming out of the front door.

And it could only be Sabo. Ace knew it was him before he could even register it, and bolted out of Newgate's grips that had slacked at the surprise and towards his brother.

Ace met Sabo only a few feet from the door, Sabo collapsing into his arms, and Ace had to pull him the extra few feet away because the flames were still too much to bear even at that distance.

And Sabo’s skin was hot and red and covered in smoke and ash alike. There was a giant welting red burn against the side of Sabo’s face that looked like it would leave a scar forever, but Ace was having a hard time focusing on it because he was too bust focusing on the bundle of blankets that Sabo was desperately trying to push into Ace’s arms.

And Ace was already crying before, but he began crying even harder when he removed the fold of blankets to reveal a muffled Luffy, covered in ash but unharmed, crying his eyes out. 

Sabo had a coughing fit that rocked his whole body, and burns that looked like they'd hurt forever, but he was smiling when Ace broke into a sob, clutching both Sabo and Luffy into his chest.

The firefighters and paramedics came a few minutes later, and they had to physically pull Sabo and Luffy from Ace’s arms to check and treat them. Luffy only ended up with a few mild burns and cuts on his arms and legs and some burning of his throat from inhaling so much smoke, but Sabo had to be taken to the hospital immediately for his burns, especially for the one on his face. Ace pleaded to let them all ride in the same ambulence on the way to the hosipital, and held on to Sabo’s shirt sleeve with a grip that would take the end of the world and then some for him to let go.

Sabo had to get some surgery and treatment to save his left eye, but he was all in all ok, and Ace and Luffy were allowed to visit his hospital room for as long as they needed.

When Ace finally confronted Sabo on why he had ran into the house in the first place, it was on the first night of their hospital stay. Sabo had a giant white gauze wrapping half of his head, and he looked at Ace with tired blue eyes that looked a little fuzy, still a little drugged from all the medication he was on to ease the pain. 

And Ace felt bad about it, he really did, because Sabo didn’t derserve to be grilled on the matter. Not after he had sacrificed himself and saved Luffy. Their little brother. Their little brother who they wouldn’t even have anymore if it weren’t for Sabo. 

But Ace had to know. He was so mad and heartbroken and scared out of his mind when Sabo had rushed in without word or warning. Because they had lost Garp. They had almost lost Luffy. And Ace could have almost lost Sabo too.

But Luffy was tucked underneath Sabo’s arm on the hospital bed, and Sabo just smiled at Ace with a patience that only Ace and Luffy could pull out of him, and patted the other side for Ace to join them. Ace climbed onto the bed beside him, and even with the two 15-year-olds and one little 5 year old, the bed didn’t feel too small at all.

Sabo explained that he could hear crying from the door and he just moved. Knowing it was Luffy before his mind could really think about the implications behind that. He confessed how the flames hurt at first. Hurt so bad, and it was so hot, and everything, from the floor to the ceiling, was on fire and he could barely see anything through the smoke. But he could hear Luffy’s little rough and horse scream, coming from one of the back rooms that used to be Garp's office, and suddenly all Sabo could afford to think about was Luffy’s crying.

Sabo would tell a watered-down version of this story to the cops in the morning, because they were Garp's friend and companions, and they only really needed the broad details for their report anyway. 

He’ll tell a heroic version of this story, lacking any horrific graphics, to an older Luffy whenever the eternally curious kid wonders and asks about it.

But he only ever told the whole story right then on that night, one arm tight around his baby brother in a toothed and protective love, while the other one gripped his best friend's hands with shaking and bandaged fingers hard enough to leave bruising.

Garp was long dead when Sabo found him. The smell of his skin burning off is something that will haunt Sabo for the rest of his life. (Sometimes certain smells will set him off. Uncooked bacon is not allowed in the house anymore after one traumatic morning when Luffy is six. Campfires are viewed and enjoyed from a distance.)

He was lying on his stomach, clutching something to his chest. Sabo knew it was Luffy by the cries, bundled up in a few quilts and one of this office rugs, and Sabo knew he had to get them out of there before the smoke killed them off like it had a personal agenda against them.

The heat was unbearable, Sabo had confessed, but it was nothing compared to having to drag Luffy from underneath Garp’s grip. The old man was built like a brick house, sure, but even in death, his grip on Luffy, protecting Luffy, like he was daring the world to take anything away from him, was steadfast and almost unbbreakable. 

It was the hardest thing Sabo had ever had to make himself do.

He didn’t look at Garp’s face. His body was burned black and bloody and raw, and Sabo couldn’t live with himself if his memory of Garp’s face was replaced by anything other than with the one of his scruffy beard and the shit-eating grin that he always wore.

When he pulled Luffy out, he didn’t look back, and raced out of the house as fast as he could. Something along the way fell and smacked him in the face, knocking him down at one point, but Sabo couldn’t pay it much mind. He got back up, and continued towards the door. He could barely see, barely breathe, with all the smoke and the ash, and the pain from the fire was almost numbing against his skin, but he didn’t stop.

All he could think about was Luffy, still struggling and crying against the blankets wrapped tightly around him. Next thing he knew, he was outside, and looking up at Ace’s snot-covered face.

Ace had never seen Sabo cry for the almost 10 years he knew him. He didn’t cry when he was 7, and the Anderson family had called him a freak and had sent him back after a failed foster home placement. He didn’t cry when he was 9, and broke his arm falling out of the tree in their backyard that Garp had told him not to climb, so of course he had to climb it. And he didn’t even cry earlier that day, at 15, when he was off medication and feeling the full extent of his painful burns.

So when tears started pooling out of Sabo’s pale blue eyes, falling down his cheeks and staining the cotton white blanket he was under as he told his story, Ace pretended not to notice, wrapped an arm around Sabo’s shoulders, and held him like it was the only lifeline in the world. 

Garp’s funeral was held the following week. Closed casket. All the police departments in the county, and even some outside of it, showed up to give him a full send-off. Ace cried for both Sabo and himself. Sabo spoke a few words for the both of them. And Luffy stood between them, holding both their hands. They explained the night before that gramps was gone, but they don’t think the notion of death really got through to Luffy. He was crying, but only because Ace was crying, and when he asked ‘can gramps come out of the box to give me a hug before he goes away?’ everyone has to clench their teeth and hold their breaths to stop their hearts from breaking. Sabo kneeled down to wrap Luffy in a tight hug. Ace covered his face with his arm and cried harder

(They never bother asking Luffy about how the fire started, or what happened that day. Luffy doesn’t remember, and they don’t push it further. The truth isn’t as important as Luffy’s mentality is, but Garp’s old squad promises that they won’t rest until they get to the bottom of it. And as much as Ace and Sabo want justice and revenge, they have Luffy to think about, so they leave it up to the police)

Sabo and Ace are almost 16, and they suddenly have no parental figure, no home, no anything, and suddenly they’re faced with the horrible notion that even more can be taken from them when a blast from their past threatens to take Luffy away from them too.

They’re no stranger to the foster care system, so when social services show up at the motel they were renting with Garp’s savings, they feel their hearts drop to their stomach for fear of the very real possibility that Luffy will be placed in immediate foster care, and possibly, so would they. 

Ace and Sabo jump into action then, because no way, no fucking way, were they gonna lose Luffy. They had lost everything else. They almost did lose Luffy. They weren’t gonna risk that chance again.

Ace was only a few weeks older than Sabo. Sabo hadn’t paused a second to jump into the fire, risking life and limb, to protect what little they had. It was Ace’s turn to be the heroic older brother. And on the day he turned 16, Ace petitioned legal guardianship and parental rights for Sabo and Luffy.

And it was hard, because of course the courts felt sorry for him, the grandson of one of the best police chiefs in the county’s history, begging the courts to let him keep what little family he had left together. The courts wanted to give it to him, wanted to help him. But Luffy was a child. And Ace and Sabo were practically still kids themselves. Asking kids to raise themselves was something no one should ask them to do. 

But Ace and Sabo fought for it. Ace was 16, and Sabo would be 16 soon enough. They could get GED’s, no problem. They’d get jobs, get a little apartment near Luffy’s school, attend any parenting and child service meeting required of them. They’d buy all the necessities over again and they’d love Luffy where no other foster family could even compare. They’d do everything, everything and anything, to keep Luffy. To let them stay together.

With a couple of vouchers from Garp’s old police squad, including one from an overly enthusiastic Edward Newgate and one from the boy’s homeroom teacher, Makino, the courts ruled in Ace’s and Sabo’s favor, and Luffy was officially theirs until they proved that Luffy was better off somewhere else.

Ace and Sabo were never gonna let that happen.

They got a little 2 bedroom apartment a couple blocks from Luffy’s elementary. They quit school, and worked extra hard to earn their GED’s within the following months. (With the help of their old teachers and a few of their overly enthusiastic neighbors)

Ace got a job at the local fire department, as a rookie in training under Newgate.

Sabo got a job at the local news station, writing reports on top of his interning duties. 

Ace eventually got a motorcycle that same year, which scared Sabo half to death and delighted Luffy to no end. It was cheaper than a car, and easier to travel to and from work on, and no matter how hard Sabo tried, he couldn’t come up with a valid reason why Ace shouldn’t use it to their advantage. So Sabo made Ace promise to always wear a helmet when riding it, and that Luffy wasn’t allowed to ride it until he was much older. (Which Luffy pouted about to no end)

And it’s hard at times, both of them working overtime just to make enough to support themselves and keep them afloat, but it’s good, and it’s theirs.

Luffy makes a friend on his first day of first grade named Zoro Roronoa, another kid that lives just across the street from them, and when Ace and Sabo know they’re gonna be late in getting home, Luffy goes over there and hangs out until they can pick him up (Which is totally fine with Zoro’s father Koushirou, a kendo teacher and single father of 6-year-old Zoro and 9-year-old Kuina. Zoro has a bit of a personality problem and often has trouble making friends (because the child doesn’t see a need to) so when little bright-eyed and endlessly joyful Luffy pops into their life, Kushirou jumps at the chance to have him over as much as possible, because the two small children seem to bring out the best in each other, and are best friends attached at the hip) Sabo and Ace are eternally grateful to the kind man)

A few years go by, and Luffy is 8. Ace is still working at the fire station and is now legally allowed to join them on calls and emergencies. (Fire used to make Ace nervous, because he almost lost everything to it. Now he has a personal agenda with it, to make sure it doesn’t take anything from anyone else)

Sabo has moved up the ranks now, and when he turns 18, confronts Ace with a rare job opportunity he was offered.

“It’s a year-long internship for this really cool company that reports and delivers high-class diplomatic information around,” Sabo starts, rubbing the back of his head like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “I’d be working as like, a cool undercover spy with diplomatic immunity and a messenger bag. It’s not dangerous at all, and pays almost triple my paycheck now, which would really help us out. But it’s overseas, and I’d be gone for a whole year. You’d be raising Luffy all by yourself, birthdays and holidays and skinned knees, with just the two of you, so say the word, and I’ll totally turn this job down on the spot.”

And it’s scary to Ace. Because he hasn’t been alone since he was 6 years old, and he can’t possibly remember a time when Sabo hadn’t been by his side. His best friend and brother. It was always the two of them. Two little runaways that found a home, lost that home, and then built a new home all on their own despite it all. And neither of them had ever been away from Luffy for longer than a weekend, so Ace was sure it would kill Sabo to be away from them for so long.

But he also knew that Sabo was only playing this off like it wasn’t a big deal, when in fact it was the job opportunity of a lifetime for someone like Sabo, a kid who breathed adventure and freedom with every breath. And that when he talked about it, his eyes sparkled with a joy that Ace would hate himself forever for taking it away. 

Sabo was giving Ace the choice, and Ace knew that Sabo would go along with whatever Ace decided without a second thought or complaint. But Ace knew that Sabo would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't go, so he slugged Sabo in the arm, gave him his best shit-eating, confident grin, (the kind he used to give him right before they were about to steal some food as kids, or about to get into a fight when they were teens) and said, “You let me have a motorcycle. The least I can do is let you go road tripping abroad.”

Because Ace and Luffy would be fine. They’d miss Sabo like crazy, and Ace was pretty sure Sabo was like, 90% of his impulse control, but they’d survive. Sabo had the burn marks to prove how far he was willing to go for their family, and Ace had never thanked him for that. Ace was never gonna live that down, and was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to both Sabo AND Luffy, and prove just how good of an older brother he could be. This was the least he could do for them.

#my work #one piece #monkey d. luffy #Portgas D. Ace #sabo #asl brothers #age gap au #oh ho look at me #my fics all start after this moment when sabo is overseas #so this is just context for that. #enjoy please and sorry in advance #i've thought too much about this au #it lives rent free in my head always

[gravegroves]

"steve kills neil" hell yeah, now we're talking

Lol, you wanna read it? Here ya go:

The newspaper article never mentions why Steve Harrington drove to Old Cherry Lane one early December morning and caved Neil Hargrove’s skull in with a nail studded bat. Though there are... rumours.

It doesn’t mention Neil's son -- well, it does, but it doesn't mention how the day before, Billy had limped and later crawled his way to Loch Nora, half frozen, barely conscious and almost unrecognisable to his boyfriend when he answered the scrambled knocking on the door.

(It doesn't mention how unsteady Billy was on his feet for weeks after, how the hearing in his right ear was almost completely gone and never really improved much in the years since or the seven -- seven -- broken ribs, the dislocated shoulder or the fractured collarbone.)

It doesn't mention how Steve had held Billy until he passed out from pain and exhaustion, barely able to breathe, but still able to make Steve swear not to take him to a hospital.

It doesn't mention Steve panicking for two hours. Listening to Billy's rasping breaths and not knowing what to do. Or Steve picking Billy up and, in a feat of pure desperation, carried him to his car. How he drove like a bat out of hell to a clinic two towns over and hoping to Christ that they'd be able to help.

It doesn't mention the one nurse who takes one look at Steve clutching Billy's limp hand and understands. Who calls her brother doing his residency at the local hospital and tells him to sneak out an IV bag and to come check out a patient. Or the other nurse who keeps the clinic open and stays with them all night, checking on Billy's concussion every few hours and squeezes Steve's shoulder whenever he looks seconds from breaking apart.

It doesn't mention Steve driving Billy home in the early hours of the morning -- taking him up to his room and laying him on the bed where Billy had laid many times before. How Steve had tried to touch Billy, to comfort him, but there isn't a patch of skin left unmarked or uninjured for him to run his fingers over. How he runs from the room to scream into his fist.

It doesn't mention Steve sprinting to his car, driving in silence -- so carefully. Wanting to get to his destination unfollowed and unbothered.

It doesn't mention Max answering the door, how she watches him standing on the porch with the nail bat clutched in his hand, or how she silently lets Steve move past her into the house and gently push her outside before he closes the door. Or how she walks down to sit on the curb beside their driveway. Refusing to cry.

---

It does mention the screams that startle a neighbour. 

It does mention Susan Hargrove being shoved and locked into Billy's room after the first swing incapacitates her husband.

It does mention that Neil Hargrove's head had resembled more of a pulpy soup by the time Steve hits hard enough to embed the nails into the floor and leaves it there, poking up from the mess like a tombstone.

It does mention Steve walking calmly out onto the lawn, covered in blood and bits of brain to tell Max to go to the Sinclair's and to stay there.

It does mention Steve going home to change before turning up at the bank, draining his account and as much from his parents' as he can manage before he and Billy disappear.

It does mention the last place they were rumoured to have been seen: five states away, sitting in a diner and holding hands across the table.

It does mention the fact that the boys have yet to be found, some four years later.

---

It doesn't mention the people they left behind.

It doesn't mention that Nancy Wheeler chooses to abandon her dreams of becoming a journalist. That publishers are only ever interested in her stories if she's willing to talk about Steve Harrington. Her ex boyfriend. The Killer King of Hawkins High.

It doesn't mention how Steve's parents sell the house and leave Hawkins for good. How his father loses his job and his mother her bankroll. How they get divorced and never speak again and it's like their little charade of a family had never existed at all.

It doesn't mention that Tommy and Carol never regain any significant social standing at Hawkins High or that they leave the town not long after graduation. They are the couple that hung out with a killer and his suspected accomplice, possible gay lover, and in Hawkins, that's all they'll ever be.

It doesn't mention how Jim Hopper spends sleepless nights talking himself out of tampering with evidence. How one day, in desperation, he asks El to find either of the boys, but only gets a shake of her head in response and a firm: "Better like this."

It doesn't mention how Susan Hargrove, soon to be Mayfield once again, moves herself and her daughter to a different house. How she tries to repair the relationship with her daughter as best as she can, but the damage is mostly done. 

It doesn't mention that Claudia Henderson cries herself to sleep for many nights after, thinking of all the times she let that boy near her precious Dusty.

It doesn't mention how Dustin still talks into his walkie talkie at night, tuned to a private frequency that never answers him back. How he buys a bottle of Farrah Fawcett hair spray and uses it religiously despite varied results. How sometimes, when the party meets up, he and Max will lock eyes and share a private moment of pain that neither of them can talk about out loud.

It doesn't mention the envelope Max receives two days before her graduation and three weeks before she moves out for good. It contains a photograph of two young men kissing in front of a huge ornate building, holding up their hands with matching rings.

It doesn't mention how Max smiles at the writing on the back, tucks it away for safekeeping and wonders if she can save enough to go to Europe before her first summer break at college. How Max already knows Dustin will join her.

---

It doesn't mention that Billy and Steve live happily ever after.

But they do.

#gravegroves writes #anon ask #tw: murder

[loki-hargreeves]

Loki x Reader - Thanos controls You

Warnings: angst, mentions of torture, mind-control, fighting, choking, blood and gore, more angst (it's a lot ok)

Word Count: 5,8K

Summary: After failing to deliver the Tesseract, Loki has been living in fear that Thanos will one day find him again and seek revenge. You have been missing ever since Loki was imprisoned after what he did in New York. Little did Loki know that you were with Thanos all along. During the events of Infinity War, Thanos makes you battle Loki in order to obtain the Tesseract

Author’s Note: I know Thanos doesn’t have the mind stone at the beginning of Infinity War but it’s fiction and I’m gonna do what Marvel does best, ignore canon. Let’s blame the Other’s powers, okay? Please enjoy this angsty little thing! :)

YOUR POV

“There’s room for more!” Loki yelled over the cries of scared children and their crying families. There was no way he would send a half-empty escape pod on its way to Midgard. That’s when he saw a child all by herself a little further away. She was clinging onto the wall for dear life and the ship trembled due to the impact of getting shot at. Her parents were nowhere to be seen. Dead. Loki felt sick to his stomach when he knew they were most likely dead. Thanos’ children were slaying kids and their parents heartlessly and they had the audacity to say they were being rescued. That their deaths were part of something bigger than life itself.

They viewed Thanos as a god who was being merciful even when he ripped a beating heart out of someone's chest.

Loki’s heart clenched in his chest painfully. Before it would be too late, he made his way to the tiny child and picked her up carefully. She seemed to recognize the prince but she wasn’t afraid of him. Instead, she hugged Loki so she wouldn’t fall out of his grasp.

“Where’s mommy?” The girl sounded absolutely petrified.

Loki didn’t know what to say as he made his way to the pod. Once he reached it, he saw a woman by the entrance.

“You’ll be safe here,” Loki promised the child as he handed her over to the lady. That’s all he had time for as he returned to the corridor. A particularly loud blast made him stumble over his feet and he had to catch his balance by taking support from the metal wall. The lights flickered, which meant the electronics of the ship were injured. There was a strange smokey smell in the air, which lingered with the irony stench of blood.

Loki couldn’t believe this was happening. Had Thanos finally come for him? Or did Thanos somehow know of the tesseract? Either way, if Thanos succeeded, he would kill two birds with one stone. The thought of this being all his fault made Loki nauseous. Guilt was nibbling at his skin and he knew it would eat him alive in the end. He never wished for this to happen!

As he ran down the corridors frantically searching for Asgardians that needed help, he heard different kinds of cries. People were letting out guttural screams. Others were pleading for their lives. Listening to the massacre that was taking place was worse than any nightmare Loki ever recalled having. They were all drained after Ragnarok and now Thanos had found them. It was haunting how ruthless fate could be.

Footsteps began to approach Loki and they were awfully close. Too close for his liking. He was quick to grab his daggers and turn to face whoever dared try to sneak up on him. When he saw a familiar figure, he nearly dropped the blades from his hands. Seeing you there was like shock itself punched him in the face.

You were there, real and clear as day.

How long had it been since the last time he saw you?

Ever since Loki had found out about his true nature, his life had gone downhill. After he ended up with Thanos and went through pure hell with him, he had changed. During his time away from Asgard, he had only missed one person truly - you. You, who had been by his side through everything. You, who hadn’t loved him any less when you saw his deep blue skin and those crimson red eyes that in Loki’s mind resembled blood. You, who had seen him as the rightful king of Asgard when everyone else betrayed him. The light of his life, the angel that had cared for him even when he felt like a monster.

You, who hadn’t been on Asgard when Thor brought him back to face Odin in trial. Loki had spent a lot of time in his cell, alone. He waited for you to appear but you never did and no one ever told him why. They rather left him to drown in his own vicious thoughts. It wasn’t until Loki pretended to be Odin that he began to learn what had happened on Asgard during his exile.

The people at the palace loved to gossip. Some claimed you had stolen a ship and left Asgard behind for good, that living as Loki’s widow had been too hard for you. In Loki’s darkest hours, he wondered if you truly felt ashamed for being associated with him. So ashamed in fact, that you had left it all behind and started anew. Sometimes, he believed that, but it never stopped him from trying to find you. He had searched night and day but it seemed like you had vanished into thin air. It had killed him more every day living in the unknown. His only wish had been that you were okay.

Now there you were, looking like you had never left. In a moment of pure shock, Loki couldn’t even begin to comprehend how you appeared on the ship - seemingly out of nowhere. He was happy to see you, despite how appalling everything else was at that moment.

“Y/N,” Loki spoke your name softly and dared to blink. When you were still there as he opened his eyes, he felt goosebumps all over his skin.

You looked at him so innocently, but then he noticed that something was off. The look in your eyes was cold. You weren’t in your typical Asgardian gear. Instead, you were dressed in dark armour that Loki could’ve sworn he had seen before, but he didn’t know where. Nevertheless, it made him feel uneasy.

“It’s been a while, Loki,” You attempted a smile as you walked closer to him, your husband. It still counted since he had never truly died, right?

Loki didn’t stop you as you walked right up to him. His eyes never left yours. Part of him wanted to kiss you, to hold you and feel you were real, but the shrieks in the background reminded him of how dangerous everything was. The daggers disappeared from his hands and Loki held you by your shoulders. He needed to see that his hands wouldn't go right through you, that he hadn't lost it.

“You need to get off this ship, Y/N!” He told you seriously. There was profound fear in his voice.

Instead of being worried at all, you just smiled back at him.

That was so unlike you.

“Y/N, do you hear me?”

“Oh, I do,” You confirmed nonchalantly, “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

A bloodcurdling cry startled Loki. They were coming closer and closer. The two of you wouldn’t be safe in that passageway for long. By now, his heart was racing with his thoughts. He felt panic settling into his bones.

Before Loki could say another word, you cupped his face rather gently. The fact that you didn’t seem disturbed by what was happening was eerie to Loki. He knew that you had a heart much bigger than anyone else he knew of. The version of you he remembered wouldn’t have been so calm. Something was terribly wrong.

“I need something,” You admitted and batted your eyelashes. Before, Loki would’ve found that quite adorable, but at that moment it was so wrong. He had been so ecstatic to see you and know you were alive, but now he almost wanted to run the other way.

“What?” Loki barely found his voice at that point. He felt sick and heartbroken. This had to be a nightmare, the worst kind.

“The Tesseract, Loki. I really need it,” You blurted it out.

Shivers ran down his spine. How did you know about it? Why did you even care? He was unsure if he could even trust you with the knowledge that he had it in his possession. Usually, he would’ve trusted you with his life without any hesitation, but you had been gone for years and returned like this, with bizarre motives.

You returned at the same time as Thanos and you were looking for the tesseract. Loki wasn’t a fool. He finally put two and two together and the realization was too arduous to believe. The idea of you and Thanos even meeting was something Loki could only see happening in his worst nightmares, but he was afraid it had already occurred. If so, he needed to hear it from you,

“Is Thanos making you do this?”

The tone of his voice seemed to offend you as you sent him a nasty glare. Your softness turned harsh and you pushed Loki against the metal wall with a loud thud. Before he could get out of the way, you grabbed your own dagger and pressed it against his neck so it was ever so slightly pressing against his exposed skin.

“He is not making me do anything. I am glad to serve the all-mighty Thanos. I won’t fail him, unlike you,” You snarled at Loki spitefully.

Never in a million years had Loki imagined this moment to happen. One where you would be fighting against each other. It was supposed to the two of you against the nine realms. Being held like that by the one person he loved more than anything was tearing his heart to shreds, but he tried not to show it.

Deep down, he knew it wasn’t truly you. He knew exactly what Thanos had done to you so you would act like this, and it only made it hurt so much more. It felt like someone was pouring salt into an open wound, and his entire body, heart and soul were wounded.

“Now give me the tesseract and we will be on our merry way,” You tried to obtain it again. This time you seemed more serious. Was it the tone of your voice or your weapon pressed against his pulse? Loki didn’t know.

“I don’t have it,” Loki lied as smoothly as he could because even thinking straight at that moment felt impossible. The world was caving in around him at supersonic speed.

You pressed the sharp edge of the blade closer to him, feeling how just a little bit more pressure would've broken his skin “You’re a great liar, my dear, but I know that’s not the truth.”

Loki didn’t want to fight you, but he didn’t see another way out. And it was good for him that you had learned most of the tricks from him. Your every move would be more easily predictable for Loki. He had to find a way to distract you.

“Why do you need it?” That was a foolish question. He knew damn well what Thanos would do if he got his dirty hands on the infinity stones.

“Why do you care?” You didn’t answer his silly question.

Suddenly, Loki grabbed your wrist tightly and yanked your arm to the side. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but Loki knew you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

At least your weapon fell out of your hand, but you knew how to defend yourself without it. So did Loki.

Loki tried to turn things around so he would have you pinned down against the wall, but you didn’t let him get that far. As he turned you around so your back was pressed firmly against his chest, you kicked your legs against the wall hard, pushing both of you back. Loki took the biggest impact as he fell on the floor, with you on top of him. Quickly, you rolled out of his grasp, turning around in one swift movement so that you were now sat on top of him, with your legs tightly against both his sides.

A powerful orb of magic grew above your fingertips and you brought it closer to Loki’s face - so close that he could feel the heat of your burning powers. The magic created an electric sensation on your skin. It felt like you pushed your fingers deep into warm sand. Toying with it was exhilarating, and seeing the astonished look on Loki’s face made it so much better. The green light of your powers cast light in his eyes, only deepening the look of disbelief that was painted all over him.

“It’s sweet that you’re trying not to hurt me,” You taunted him at that point, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”

“This isn’t you, Y/N,” Loki groaned. He was so sure of himself.

You tilted your head and smirked, looking at him like a cat would at a mouse. “I don’t know, Loki. It’s been a while,” You explained casually and leaned closer and closer to his face, stopping when your noses brushed against one another. By now, Loki was frozen on the spot. He was trying to come up with a plan and he felt hopeless.

“I’ve changed,” You whispered to him and felt tempted to kiss him, to taste him. Would you taste his fear? His heartbreak? You were sure it would taste sweet.

“The torture must’ve been painful,” Loki pushed his feelings aside. Yes, he felt like his heart had been ripped to shreds, but he had to do something. He had to surprise you, even if it would hurt. Words could hurt more than actions, and if Loki wanted to survive and to help you, he needed to reach the real you even if the only way to do so was cruel.

How did he know? You narrowed your eyes and surprisingly, found yourself waiting for him to continue.

"I was trained well."

"Trained?" Loki spat out harshly, "I know you're afraid. He has promised you something worse than the pain he has inflicted on you already. It won't happen. If you let Thanos continue his reign, he will not care about your loyalty!"

"Shut up!" That was too much for you. With tears brimming your eyes from anger, you put your hand over his mouth to silence him. He didn't budge and you didn't know why.

You pushed the memories aside. The painful memories of the time Thanos first found you. It was wrong to think of it as torture. No, he had shown you what you're truly capable of. It was training. Training to become a stronger person after the hell you endured on Asgard.

But now that you found yourself thinking about it, it seemed like the memories were all blurred as if you were looking into the past through a broken lens. Someone had spilt oil all over it and the pictures were warped.

"I know you have it," You needed the tesseract. "Give it to me and then this will all be over," you removed your hand from his mouth because it looked like he wanted to speak.

Loki knew that if he’d push you, your magic could burn him, but at the moment he couldn’t come up with another plan. He couldn’t just stay on the ground as people were being killed on the other side of the wall!

"Okay," Loki blurted out. Okay?

For a moment, he had you surprised which was the perfect distraction.

Loki grabbed your wrists tightly and pushed you to the side, but not quickly enough. You released your magic and it graced the side of his face, making him growl out either in pain or frustration - or both. The two of you rolled over and this time Loki was on top, holding your arms pinned above your head. You were trapped because of one mistake. You couldn't believe Loki had used the element of surprise to turn the situation upside down.

Furiously, you tried to kick your legs free, but he had you pinned down beneath him and Loki was strong. There was no point in squirming, you had to come up with another idea.

The two of you faced each other and Loki revealed his face and the damage you had done. Your magic had burned his skin and left a bloody cut on his eyebrow. It had just barely missed his eye. If he lived, it would surely leave a scar.

You flinched when a drop of his blood hit your cheek and it rolled down the side of your face.

"What are you going to do, kill me?"

Loki could never bring himself to kill you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself with your blood on his hands. No. He had other ideas. Loki remembered what it was like to be under Thanos' control. He remembered how much it hurt to even think about the torture. He had to remind you, he had to make you see that this wasn't the real you.

"This version of you, or I certainly hope so," Loki replied mysteriously. Before you could ask him to elaborate, Loki released your wrist and slammed the palm of his hand against your forehead. In a split second, you were in a different place - in your head. You could've sworn you heard him mutter "I'm sorry," before everything turned black.

It was hot, burning hot. Metal chains were attached to you and they were glowing red. Torching. You could only scream in pain as the metal sunk into your skin, your bones, your nerves. It felt like he had chained your mind and with the tiniest movement of his finger, he could make you do his dirty work.

He, Thanos, was sitting on his throne. He was the puppet master and you the puppet. He didn't look at you fondly. No. He was smiling as he watched you cry your lungs out, letting out animalistic growls as the pain got worse. It was so overwhelming that every once in a while, you would scream until you passed out. But every time, one of his children would be there to wake you up.

It was time for another round. And another. And yet another. Would it ever end?

Each time you tried to resist the chains, the strings that were sewn onto you and connected to his fingertips, it hurt more. Eventually, you learned that allowing the strings to tighten around you made it hurt less. It almost felt good, like a long embrace after a long day.

"I don't want to hurt you, my child."

Lies. You knew that all he said were nasty lies, but sometimes it was easier to believe lies than the truth.

"Make it stop!" You would beg him. How long had you been there?

You could remember Thanos touching your face gently, which was so comforting after everything you had endured. At the same time, it made you sick. You couldn't believe that the one who had caused you distress could have such a gentle touch.

"You're ready," Thanos had realized. The Other had appeared right before you and his fingertips were pressed against one another, making him look like he was deep in thought. You had no idea what they were doing, but the next thing you knew was that you no longer felt pain.

The chains, the strings, they were all invisible. It looked like you were free, but the weight of the metal was still pressed against your skin. Had you imagined it?

No,

Deep down you knew that the strings were still attached to you, but they had only made it seem like you had a choice.

"Excellent," The Other's voice surprised you. You merely blinked and you had returned to the vessel. Loki was above you and the Other was standing right there, "You found him."

The Other used his powers to push Loki off you. Shock had made your entire body numb and you couldn't scramble up to your feet. It felt like your limbs had been turned to stone and you were anchored to the floor.

Loki got up slowly with his arms raised in surrender. He was well aware of the powers the Other had and Loki wasn't going to fight him now. If he followed you for long enough, then maybe just maybe he could come up with a plan. Loki looked at you as you finally got up. As you stood next to the Other, you couldn't believe your legs carried you. Something was so wrong. You felt sick and you couldn't shake it off. It felt like something had snapped within you, but you didn't know what.

"He is waiting for you," The Other explained as he turned to walk away, most likely to wherever Thanos was waiting.

Loki had no choice but to follow, and you walked behind, making sure he didn't try to escape.

Why did Loki make you remember that? What did he think he would obtain with making you relive something so awful? It hadn't worked, right?

There he was. Thanos was standing by a hole that had been ripped into the side of the ship. Magic was keeping it sealed so the vacuum of space wouldn't suck everyone into it. But still, the emptiness of space wasn't frightening at all compared to the titan who was standing right there.

Loki swallowed thickly as he saw him again. It had been years but he remembered everything like it had happened yesterday. Seeing Thanos standing in the middle of the piles of bodies, in the room that smelled like smoke and blood, was sickening. Thanos hadn't just killed a part of Loki. He had just slaughtered these innocent Asgardians with the help of his so-called children. He had taken you.

He will make you long for something as sweet as pain

Loki closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. They had stayed true to their threats.

"I know what it’s like to lose," Thanos turned around now that he knew Loki was there. At long last. Thanos had not forgotten what Loki had failed to do, and Thanos was a man of his words.

"To feel so desperately that you’re right yet to fail, nonetheless," Thanos continued dramatically and slowly made his way closer to Loki. He saw Thor on the ground, bloodied and weak. The brother of Loki. As tempting as the idea was to torture Thor right in front of the god of mischief, Thanos had different plans. If there was only one way Loki would ever give him the tesseract, it was going to be in order to save you. You were Loki's true weakness.

"It’s frightening. Turns the legs to jelly. I ask you, to what end?" Thanos looked Loki right in the eye. He could see that Loki was afraid, yet Loki never looked away from him. He was either too proud or fearless. Thanos had liked that about Loki initially. But he had failed Thanos greatly. It had cost him infinity stones.

"Dread it. Run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. And now, it’s here. Or should I say I am," Thanos finished his dramatics because it was time for action, to turn the wheels and see the bigger picture. This was the end of an era and a new beginning for a different universe. In Thanos' mind, only he could bring balance and order. He gestured for you to walk up to his side.

Too afraid of the idea of what would happen if you disobeyed, you walked right up to Thanos, feeling like a fly that was willingly flying into cobwebs. When you were close enough, you kneeled and dipped your head so he wouldn't see the worry in your eyes. It wasn't there before.

"I didn't obtain the tesseract from him, but I am sure that he has it, father," You muttered quietly. Why did you say that? There was a pounding headache growing within your skull. You didn't know what was right or wrong anymore and you couldn't fight it either.

Father

Loki clenched his jaw as he followed the situation closely. Hearing that made his blood boil. He wanted to rip Thanos apart after this. Never in a million years had he imagined this, to see you pledge your alliance to Thanos, kneeling before him and respecting him. Thanos didn't deserve that. Hell, Thanos didn't even deserve to look at you. It was wrong.

At that moment, Loki worried that his trick hadn't worked. That the memories hadn't awakened anything within you. That it was all too late now. This was the end, the one thing in life that was inevitable.

"I know, my child," Thanos let out a sigh. Then he grabbed you by your jaw like he had done before, forcing you to face him. "I know he has it," He repeated and suddenly his touch turned violent. He closed his hand around your neck tightly and you gasped for air helplessly. Your hands - tiny compared to his - grabbed his fingers and you tried to pry them apart, but he was tougher than you. Panic shot through your entire body when you realized you couldn't breathe. It turned your blood to ice and your poor heart was beating so hard you were afraid it would explode.

What was he doing?

The moment he pulled you to your feet, so high that you had to stand on the tips of your toes, he spoke, "The tesseract or her life," Thanos smiled devilishly, showing no remorse. He didn't care about you. You were a pawn in his game and if you would die at his feet, he would just walk over you and carry on.

"You choose," Thanos put the weight of the world on Loki's shoulders.

Loki wanted to rescue you from that monster, but he wasn't stupid. With all of Thanos' children surrounding him, he knew that he would be dead before he could reach you. Nonetheless, it didn't mean he wouldn't try. Seeing you clawing at Thanos' hand, fighting for something as simple as air and not getting it was heartbreaking. Loki's body was trembling with hatred and hurt. Tears blurred his vision and he struggled to keep his composure.

How had it all come to this?

The thought of Thanos with the tesseract was haunting. Soon he would have all the stones and he would destroy reality as they knew it. But Loki could live with that. He couldn't live knowing you had died when he had a chance to save you. Perhaps he was selfish for choosing you over the entire galaxy, but Loki didn't care. Nothing mattered if he would lose you again.

"Alright, stop!" Loki made up his mind. "I choose her," Finally, Thanos released his grip on you and let you fall on the cold ground. Your hands wrapped around your throat gently and you coughed painfully. It took you a while to finally breathe again, which was a huge relief for both Loki and you.

And now Loki was holding the tesseract. It was so bright that it painted the space blue. It was almost too bright to look at. The power within the stone was so strong, you could sense it like heat from the sun in spring after a long and cold winter. Loki was tempted to use the tesseract to grab you and escape, but he quickly shut those thoughts away. Thanos would follow him for the end of all days.

"You...you really are the worst, brother," Thor was following the situation to the best of his abilities. He spat out blood as he watched Loki holding the cube. It made him sad. Everything they ever knew was destroyed in the name of power, pure and raw power that the tesseract could offer. Was it worth it?

Loki glanced at Thor who was too weak to even get up. He didn't care too much about what he had to say. Then he looked at you. There you were, on the ground struggling to breathe after Thanos had crushed your windpipe. There was bruising on your skin that would only deepen with time. Time that you possibly wouldn't have after this.

He saw the tears running down your face, but you didn't sob and whimper. It seemed like you were as still as stone. You couldn't bring yourself to face Loki.

"I assure you," Loki found his voice and he addressed both you and Thor with his words, "the sun will shine on us again."

What did he mean by that?

You were ashamed to tilt your gaze to see him, to see the tesseract. The damn infinity stone had ruined it all! It was why Thanos had wrecked Loki, why he had destroyed you too. Why so many people were now dead. If you had one wish that could come true, you would wish for the tesseract to be destroyed forever.

Thanos had his back turned to you. Loki was slowly but surely making his way closer to the titan, almost like he was afraid to move but he forced his body to comply. Why? Why would he trade the tesseract for your life? It seemed like whatever spell you had been under had worn off. You were free, but it was more terrifying than being under Thanos' control under these circumstances. He didn't need you, and soon enough the vessel would be blown to bits. All of you, even Loki.

Would you be able to tell him how sorry you were?

"Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian," Thanos wasn't fond of Loki's strange choice of words.

"Well for one thing I'm not Asgardian," Loki replied quickly. It sounded a little bit witty, which was confusing. Where did the boost of confidence come from? Was he up to something?

"And for another," He continued dramatically. This time it was Thanos' turn to be confused.

"We have a Hulk."

Everything that happened after that happened so fast that you could hardly keep up with it. Loki dropped the tesseract and he leapt toward you. Thanos barely had time to turn around when a huge, green beast appeared out of nowhere and it seemed angry. It was eager to fight the titan.

Loki had you up on your feet in no time and the two of you ran away from the immediate danger. He led you to one of the many corridors on the vessel until no one could possibly see you. They were too distracted by the Hulk to even think about Loki and you. It wasn't until he was right in front of you that you could comprehend what was going on. He was kneeling on the floor and you were sat against the wall for support. Your hands were trembling so hard, it seemed like you were freezing up and you couldn't make it stop.

Loki had tricked Thanos.

He was relieved when you didn't fight him, yet he was unsure if it meant you were no longer under Thanos' control, or if you were simply too tired to fight.

He cupped your face gently and searched for answers in your expression. Back in the day, he had been able to read you like an open book.

You put your hands around his wrists and pulled him closer. You were desperate for the comfort he could bring in the midst of the living hell you were stuck in. How did he not hate you?

"I'm s- I'm sorry," You whimpered, finally cracking like a plate that had fallen on the floor. "I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," Loki couldn't possibly let you apologize for what had happened. He was possibly the one person who understood exactly what you had gone through and what it was like to follow orders from that monster. There was not an ounce of judgement to be found in his heart.

What mattered now was that you were together again. You could come up with a plan, but you had to work fast. As much as Loki wanted to hold you and comfort you, to feel that you were real, he knew there wasn't enough time for that.

"We need to get off this thing," Loki's mind was running a marathon as he tried to come up with an escape plan.

"They're gonna blow it up," You explained, feeling how bad your lips were quivering as you spoke. The moment Thanos had what he came for, they would leave and destroy everything they'd leave behind.

Shivers ran down Loki's spine as he heard that. It only confirmed that you had to act quickly. Loki wasn't sure how long the Hulk could fight Thanos. Would they be able to rescue Thor? How much time did they have?

The blood in the wound you had caused on his face was beginning to dry. It looked gnarly and all you wanted was to make it all better. Knowing that you had hurt him made you sick with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Loki. I didn't w-want to fight you," You sniffled, breaking Loki's train of thought. For the first time, he felt lost. He didn't really know what to do. Were there any escape pods left?

"I know," Loki assured you. "I know that. I was in your shoes when I was on Midgard," He explained briefly, unaware whether or not you knew of it. Had Thanos talked about him to you?

A sense of impending doom weighed you two down. If this was the end, then at least you were together, right? You and Loki against the nine realms, you would face the end together if there wasn't another way out. Whenever you had pictured your final day, you had imagined something entirely different than this. You would be old together, with hundreds of stories of your shared life. You would be surrounded by people you cared about. It would be calm, the exact opposite of this.

"I love you," You needed to tell him that. Any moment could be your last. The world would cave in and you would be gone forever.

Loki hated how much that sounded like a farewell, but at the same time, it had been so long since he had last heard those three words, let alone from you. Perhaps it was sick and twisted, but it made him smile.

"I love you too," Loki was sure of it. He had never stopped loving you and he didn't think he was even capable of that.

It seemed like you acted on instinct. You found enough strength to push yourself right against Loki. There was no hesitation in your actions as you kissed him. Loki closed his eyes when he felt your trembling lips pressed against his. Your scent, still sweet and familiar despite it all, punched its way into his lungs. He held your face gently but the kiss was passionate, almost despairing.

You wanted to scream out in agony because at last, you were reunited with Loki but not in the way you imagined. You felt like the shell of the person you were before, and now you knew for a fact that Thanos had done the exact same things to Loki. That titan had killed your souls beyond repair. But all you could do was kiss Loki and hold him and hope that he could feel how sorry you were. You didn't want to let go, afraid that if you did, it would all end. Just like that.

Loki broke the kiss, and for a moment you rested your foreheads against one another like you had done so many times before. It was comforting. You both wanted to stay close like that, but you recognised that you couldn't. Letting go of each other and getting up on your weary feet was so incredibly difficult, but it had to be done.

The world around you began to glow brighter. You quickly held onto Loki, startled as the mysterious light surrounded the two of you.

Loki held his breath as he studied the warm glimmering magic that had swallowed you. In between the bright rays of light, he saw all the colours of the rainbow. Shimmering. He saw reds and blues, yellows and greens, shining brighter than the other and it changed smoothly.

The Bifrost

He didn't know how or why, but he knew for a fact that you were in the magical portal. He couldn't see beyond it anymore. He couldn't feel the floor beneath his feet. It was like he was levitating mid-air, with you tightly in his arms.

Heimdall must've conjured the forefathers, letting their powers flow through him one last time. Where to? Loki assumed that anywhere would be better than where they had been mere seconds ago.

And it was a miracle.

A/N: I think it would've made more sense for Heimdall to send Thor or Loki to earth rather than the Hulk. So that's why I ended it like that

I'd absolutely love to hear your feedback! <3

TAGS:

Loki: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02 @myraiswack @prettysbliss @weirdfangirl2416

Forever Taglist: @iraniq  @embrycallsgirl  @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13 @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @thehumanistsdiary @your-pixels-are-showing @klanceiscannon14 @i-have-arrived-bitch

#Loki #Loki fic #Loki fanfiction #Loki oneshot #Loki x You #Loki x Reader #Loki x Y/N #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #tw angst #Loki angst #Loki/You

[soulmate-game]

This is an alternate ending for my Bio!dad Joker / Bio!mom Harley AU. Or really, the timeline itself will be entirely different starting from the moment that Marinette’s plane lands in Gotham. If you haven’t read the original, you can do so here.

—*—*—*—*—*

“He’s going to find out, Mom.”

“No he won’t, don’t be silly! I’ve been very careful about hiding you from him, Nettie-pie.”

“Mom… I just have a bad feeling. I don’t think we can hide who I am from him. If he sees me, I think he’ll know.”

The phone went silent.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him. If I was crazy about him, Sugar, then I’m head over heels for you. Not even he can stop me from caving his skull in if he tries his usual tricks with you.”

“... My plane leaves soon, I’ll talk to you when I land. And mom?”

“Yeah, honeycake?”

“I love you.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette often hated how accurate her intuition tended to be. She had barely even stepped out of the airport before she had felt the prick of a needle in her neck and the sensation of being shoved into a small, dark space before her vision cut out.

Looks like her mom wasn’t able to hide her existence away as well as they thought.

And unfortunately for Marinette, her darling asshole of a father had apparently had ample time to plan his first meeting with her. If he had just used the much easier to acquire Chloroform on her, then Marinette likely would have woken up early enough to come up with a plan. Chloroform was unreliable and wore off fairly easily. But no, he had actually had the time to steal hospital grade anesthetic.

Which meant that Marinette woke up with her wrists zip-tied to heavy links of chain above her head, and her ankles connected to the chain below her with what felt like ten layers of duct tape.

Lovely.

“Ah, there she is! Good morning, sleepyhead!” Those were the high-pitched, dramatic words she heard when she came back to consciousness. She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know who the speaker was— she had watched enough videos online and not-so-legally obtained Asylum and Prison footage to immediately recognize the speech patterns and tone that was echoing around her.

Apparently keeping her eyes closed was not allowed, because it was only a few seconds later that Marinette felt a harsh slap sting her cheek and whip her face to the side. Oh, that would become a bruise without a doubt. Her teeth betrayed her, cutting into the inside of her mouth with the force of the hit. So, when Marinette opened her eyes to glare at the sperm donor responsible for half of her DNA, she aimed her bloody spit right at him. It landed on his shoe, which only a few seconds later slammed into her gut.

Marinette gasped for air even as the chain she was on swung violently, making her dizzy and upsetting her stomach. Too bad she didn’t have anything in there to throw up on him, she thought angrily. The chain links rattled loudly, ringing in her head alongside the electric pain of both of her newly forming bruises.

“Honestly, is that any way to treat your dear ol’ Daddy?” Joker cooed with false offense, one hand over his heart. Marinette glared at him as best as she could as she continued to sway in the open air, the chain she was tied to being the only thing keeping her from plunging straight down into a vat of sickly green, bubbling liquid.

Marinette didn’t need to be told what that liquid was. And joker knew that, the moment he saw her look down at that vat and saw the realization almost immediately cross her face. So instead of explaining, he laughed. Loud, high, and deranged.

“Good, good! That idiot Harley kept you educated, at least,” he said between psychotic chuckles. “Ah yes, and she somehow managed to choose the perfect name,” he glided over to her, as if he was some ethereal demon of chaos instead of a human. His paper-white hand reached out, grabbing her chin in a crushing grip and turning her face this way and that. Inspecting her as if she was a piece of china and not a living being. “So easy to adjust. Right now, you’re Marinette. Just like how, all those years ago, your mother stood here as Harleen. But just as she was dunked into acid and became my harlequin,” he stepped back and grabbed Marinette’s shoulders. He spun her like a top, making the metal chain creak and clink as it wound into a few weak coils and then released back out, trying to go straight again. It sent Marinette twirling through the air in a horrid half-spin, one-eighty degrees one way before sharply spinning to the other side. Joker laughed.

“Just like that, you’re gonna go from boring old Marinette,” he stuck out his tongue like a child, as if the mere taste of her name was bitter. “And you’ll be reborn as my new little Marionette. Aren’t you excited?!”

“Fuck you,” Marinette spat, even as she tried to blink and return her vision to normal. She was far too disoriented to even come up with a plan— but she was still coherent enough to register that the sky was dark outside the high windows of the factory she was apparently in. She had been missing for a few hours then, which meant that her mom and Momma Ivy would have called for help a long time ago. Maybe if she just stalled long enough, it would get there in time. “I’m not a puppet. Not for you, not for anybody!” She snarled.

Joker rolled his eyes, but his smile still widened. “Oh, that’s what they all say. In fact, your mother put up a good resistance there for a while, but her inner chaos couldn’t resist me. You’ll bend even easier, I have no doubt,” her ran his hand along her cheek in a motion that was so gentle that it felt foreign, wrong, to her coming from him. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to whiplash her, take all her hope away before dangling the option he wanted her to choose in front of her like a carrot on a stick.

Too bad he didn’t know her at all. She cringed away from his gentle touch, revolted by the mere feel of his skin on her’s.

“And your accent is a nice touch,” he cooed as if her reaction didn’t bother him at all. It probably didn’t. “Exotic. Just the thing I need to freshen up my usual act a bit, the Boston twang my old Harlequins had is just… stale by now, don’t you agree?”

Marinette clenched her jaw at the reminder that he had tried to pass off a cheap look-alike as her mom when she disappeared, back when she was pregnant with Marinette, to hide her baby from Joker. How he had discarded that woman like trash when Harley went back to him, only to replace her again when her mom left him for good.

No matter how badly Joker spoke of her mom, Marinette knew that Harley had been the only Harlequin of his to actually last. The only one he kept around, and there was a reason for that. Now, he was looking for another replacement. One that was more than a cheap knockoff, and he was hoping that a teenager with not only Harley’s genetics, but also his own, would be the exact kind of right-hand prop he wanted. An obedient little puppet of chaos, just for him.

But Marinette was nobody's toy. She had been used and taken advantage of enough back in Paris, she had spent her whole life struggling to escape the side effects of her parentage. To deal with the things she inherited.

The obsessiveness, the way she was so quick to get attached. She knew she inherited that from her mom. But there was also the rage, the anger that Marinette constantly had to stuff down. Hide below the surface before it hurt someone. Keep under a tight reign and hide away in the back of her mind, her own dirty little secret.

The constant reminder of just who her biological father was. Because that anger, that viciousness, could only have come from him.

She had spent her whole life trying to carve herself her own identity, to create beauty with the chaotic elements she got from her blood. And she couldn’t blame her mother, not really. Her mother at least did her best to help, and always leant an empathetic ear when Marinette needed it. But Joker?

Oh, she could, and would, blame him even long after he was dead and gone. Because he was the one who hurt her mother, he was the one who twisted her and drove her to feel unfit to be a parent. And sometimes, Marinette thought it would be better if Joker never existed. Sure, that meant she never would have been born. But wouldn’t that have been easier, too? To not ever have to experience the struggle that came with being his daughter, a title she never consented to?

But she couldn’t change the past. She was alive, and she would use her life to spite everything that the Joker stood for. That would be her revenge. He wanted a toy?

Joker had been monologuing, but Marinette drowned it all out as she kept her periphery vision on the windows above her. Shadows moved out there, with familiar bright yellows and shadowy blacks. The bats were there. She just needed to stall.

She opened her mouth. Joker pulled a lever.

Marinette dropped.

Wire whizzed through the air, knocking the breath out of Marinette as it wound around her torso. She was barely able to piece together what was happening; one of the bats shot a human-safe grapple to try and pull her away from the acid.

But the chain and her restraints were stronger, heavier, and just dragged the grapple down with her body.

The impact sent a large wave of sickly green liquid surging over the side of the vat, and Marinette was dragged from view underneath the surface.

It burned.

She distantly felt the tape around her ankles peel itself away from her skin, the combination of acid and wetness rendering it useless. She felt the chemicals burning at her, sending painful tingles across every last inch of her skin. It got in her mouth, she didn’t have any breath in her to hold and ended up swallowing some. It seared her throat and created a river of lava inside her. It hurt.

It hurt so bad, she just wanted out. Out. Out. Out!

Someone pull her out now!

The zip tie around her wrist loosened enough for her to pull herself free, right as something heavy slammed into the heavy metal bowl. The entire container sloshed, slamming to fall onto its side. Marinette’s body was pulled alongside the rush of liquid as it flowed out, and she was able to breathe air again. Sweet, cooling air.

And then she hacked up acid, spitting and spewing it in an attempt to purge every last drop she had accidentally ingested. Like a cat choking on a hairball, she coughed and hacked and her chest convulsed and contracted to try and help her. Her ribs ached, she figured that the grapple that had tried to save her had ended up fracturing or breaking a rib or two. But all she cared about was breathing and getting rid of the chemicals she had inhaled. She needed it out. All of it. Out. Out. Out of her!

“Try to take a deep breath,” a gruff voice commanded, soft but solid. Something stable for her to cling to. So she did as it asked, forcing herself to stop hacking and instead focus on inhaling. As slowly as she could. It was difficult, the first few breaths cut themselves off with more involuntary coughing, but the owner of the gruff voice stayed nearby. Repeated it’s request. “Deep breath. Steady, now. In. Out. Good.”

Marinette was just starting to calm down, just starting to claw herself out of the haze of panic and adrenaline, when that wretched laugh cut through the air again.

“There you are! Heheheheh! My cute little Marionette!”

Marinette froze. She could barely think, barely understand her own emotions. But she knew she was different now. She knew there was no way back, he had taken it from her. He had taken her normality, he had taken all of her years of hard work and burned them right in front of her.

He had won. The bats hadn’t been fast enough. But, if her foggy mind was correct, Batman was the one trying to bring her back to lucidity. Batman was the one trying to help her get air back in her lungs.

Not her so-called father.

If he wanted a toy, she’d be a haunted doll. She’d harass him, haunt him, until he wanted nothing to do with her. She’d come back, like a possessed porcelain doll refusing to be thrown away. She would make him regret ever awakening the monster that she had spent so long forcing down. Because she was her father’s daughter, yes. But she was also her mother’s daughter.

And most importantly, she was Marinette Quinzel-Isley. Her own damned person. The Chosen wielder of the Creation miraculous. And she would never bow down and be used by anyone, ever again.

Tikki’s words from so long ago echoed in her mind. Resounded even louder than Joker’s laughter;

“That’s all order really is, Marinette. The decision to take all the chaos and madness around us, and make it make sense. Make it do something good.”

And wasn’t that everything Marinette had ever done? It was a part of her now. Like a tattoo she had inked into her very soul.

She took the chaos she was given, and turned it into something beautiful. And right now? Right now, the most beautiful thing she could think of was Joker’s face when she slammed her fist into it.

“Easy,” Batman repeated, but for a different reason now. Marinette’s lungs still stuttered a little, but her breathing was mostly under control. Now, he was saying it because Marinette was forcing herself to her feet. Her legs trembled under her, threatening to lay her out on the floor again. But she was every bit as stubborn as Joker, which made for a terrifying combination with her all-consuming fury. The acid had broken the mental chains Marinette had been using to hold it back, and now it burned fierce and bright in her eyes.

So Marinette kept herself up right, cognizant of Batman’s hand on her shoulder but ignoring it. She grit her teeth against the burning light of the room, everything suddenly too bright and colorful. Too vibrant. But it did little to distract her. She realized that one of her hands still gripped the heavy chain that had sent her drowning in the acid, and sent a snarl at her darling, jackass of a father as she whipped it out right towards him.

“Marinette!” Batman yelled, his grip tightening on her shoulder. But he didn’t pull her back, which spoke louder than any words he could have said to her right then. He wouldn’t save Joker from his daughter, he knew the man deserved at least this much pain. And sure enough, the metal links slammed right into Joker’s side, winding around him like a crushing whip.

But that was all Marinette had the strength to do. As soon as she saw Joker’s body hit the floor, writhing in agony and painfully loud cackles, her hand let go of the chain and her body tumbled down. Batman caught her.

“Red Hood, Nightwing, get Joker back to Arkham,” Batman’s order faded in and out of focus. Now that her most pressing desire was taken care of, the effects of the acid reared their ugly heads with renewed ferocity. Everything was too bright, too loud, and her thoughts echoed in her head like voices wrestling for supremacy. “Robin, Black Bat, stay on alert. Harley said that she’s incredibly trained,” he warned his partners. Marinette didn’t begrudge him, the only other two people who had survived being dunked into those chemicals hadn’t exactly treated him with kindness and pacifism. But she could barely focus on them anyway, too distracted by trying to reign in the chaos in her mind.

But Joker would never stay silent, even as he was dragged away in chains.

“Hehehahahahaha! Paper white, paper white!” He jeered cheerfully. “That’s my girl! Violent just like Papa!” Red hood knocked him out with a harsh punch to the side of his neck before he could say another word. But it was enough— enough for Marinette to gasp in realization.

Her skin. It was paper white, just like his. Not even Harley’s skin had been bleached like the Joker’s after her dip in the acid. That had always been makeup. Her mom had a healthy, peachy complexion like anyone else. A complexion Marinette had shared— until now. Now, she was unhealthily pale. Just like him.

A painful screech tore itself from her already raw throat, and Marinette’s fingernails immediately began to tear at her own skin. Red. Red was better than white— she didn’t want to look like him. She couldn’t. White was bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.

“Marinette! Stop!” Strong hands clamped around her wrists, pulling her hands away from herself even as she wriggled and tried to keep clawing at herself.

“No! No no no!” Marinette howled. “I don’t wanna look like him! I don’t wanna be like him!” She managed to get one hand free and immediately tried to tear away at her face. Batman was able to wrestle her arm away before she could do any damage besides a few angry red lines. “I refuse! I refuse! I refuse!” She shook her head, not feeling as tears flung themselves off her cheeks.

“Okay,” Batman’s voice was solid again, soft and grumbly and stable. She grabbed at it again, drawn to anything that might help bring her stability. She needed his unflappable attitude right then, and he probably didn’t even realize how badly. “That’s good. But you don’t need to rip your skin off to do that, you know that right?”

Marinette hiccuped, finally sinking down to sob as the weight of everything she had lost pressed down over the chaos of deafening light and blinding sound that continued to jumble around inside her head. “He changed me,” she choked out. Batman nodded even though she wasn’t looking at him.

“He did.”

“Th-that f-fucking bastard,” Marinette managed a sad chuckle before devolving right back into sobs. “I wo-worked so h-hard. N-never hurt any-anybody. Never… never yelled. Ne-never hit… Not people who didn’t attack f-first.”

“I know. Your mom told me,” he confirmed calmly. Solid, tethering. Marinette swallowed another gulp of air, trying to calm down. But everything was too much.

“Mom!” She suddenly realized out loud, turning and grabbing at Batman’s chest, clinging to his uniform. She didn’t even care that she almost sliced herself on a batarang, she clung to him desperately with wide, crazed eyes. “G-get Mom and… and Ivy! They… they can help. They know—“ Marinette paused to breathe, then resumed. “Momma Ivy— she gave me—gave me a diluted… th-thingy, years ago, I can’t remember—“ Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to get her mind to calm down. To work.

“The serum she gave Harley?” He asked. “The one that made her immune to poisons, and gave her increased physical abilities?”

“That!” Marinette agreed frantically, nodding. “I was too— too little, to give the real thing, so she diluted it,” she swallowed her spit and winced when it burned her throat. “It… I think it’s helping with the—the—the—“

“The chemical’s effects?” Batman suddenly sounded like he was paying much more attention than before, his shoulders a little straighter at her explanation. “You think it’s slowing down or numbing what it did to your mom and Joker?” Marinette couldn’t talk anymore, it hurt too much. Everything hurt too much, so she just nodded. “Good. That’s good, Marinette. Robin! Get Harley and Ivy down here, now!”

That was when the voices started. Sometime during the ten minutes it took to get her Mom and Ivy to her, they had apparently been waiting nearby anxiously incase the Bats had needed backup, the voices had built from ominous whispers to devious shouts, ordering her to do things like slam her elbow into Batman’s throat or see what happened if she splashed Robin with some of the acid that was still on the ground.

Her body didn’t move. She kept herself carefully still, focusing on ignoring her impulse to listen to one of the voices. She was still lucid enough to know that she would regret it if she did any of that. That the Bats were more on her side than any of the voices or the Joker were. But it was growing painful, and Harley and Ivy walked in to Batman trying to keep Marinette from hitting her own head. She had devolved to trying to knock herself out to get the voices to be quiet.

“Shut up,” she hissed, her voice hoarse and gravelly. “Shut up, shut up, shut. Up!” She was clearly talking to herself, her eyes screwed shut as she continued to try and hit her head. Harley gasped, hands flying to her mouth and eyes watering at the sight. This was something she had hoped she would never see.

“Harls,” Ivy spoke softly, putting a gentle arm around her wife’s back in support. It hurt Ivy to see Marinette in so much agony, but she knew it pained Harley even more. And much more personally. “Come on. We can help.”

“Y-you’re right,” Harley agreed shakily, taking a deep breath to try and compose herself before they both approached their daughter. Batman didn’t let go of Marinette, but did lean out of the way to give them access to her.

“Honeycake?” Harley called out softly, a little unsure how the chemicals were affecting her baby’s personality right then. The first few days were going to be the worst, and she knew that. The Dunk never took it easy on it’s victims. Marinette gasped, stopping her muttering and raising her head to look at Harley with wide eyes.

“Momma?”

Harley had to swallow heavily to shove back the sob that wanted to bubble up out of her. She had to be strong for her baby. She couldn’t break yet. But Marinette hadn’t called her Momma since she was little, now she called Pamela ‘Momma Ivy’ and her just ‘Mom’.

“It’s me, sugarplum,” she assured her daughter, kneeling down and cupping one of Marinette’s cheeks in her palm. And that was when she noticed it, and couldn’t help but widen her eyes in shock. But Marinette’s senses were so sensitive that she noticed it right away, and stiffened.

“Wh-what is it?” She grew frantic when Harley didn’t immediately respond, only winced in sympathy. Marinette knew that wasn’t good. “Mom? What is it? What did he do? What else did he do to me?”

“Darling,” Harley started, licking her lips nervously. “My sweet baby girl, your right eye… it’s green now, sugar.”

Marinette’s world froze. She tried to smile, but it came out lopsided and disbelieving. “No,” she somehow managed to breathe. “No, mom, I have your eyes. Your blue eyes. I love your eyes,” Her voice steadily got more and more panicked as she went on, not wanting to accept what her mother was clearly seeing. She watched as Harley’s face broke a little, a few tears escaping before the older woman could stop them. Marinette shook her head again, slipping her tiny wrist out of Batman’s hold and raising it to her eye. “No. It’s one of his tricks. He—he must have slipped a contact in my eye when I was passed out, that’s— that’s— that’s all—“ but her fingertip met her normal eye. No contact to be felt. Marinette’s hand fell into her lap limply. The room was absolutely silent as everyone gave her a few seconds to process just how much she had been changed, entirely against her will. She opened and closed her mouth, not sure whether she wanted to yell or curse or cry. Instead, her voice just came out in a very tiny, broken:

“...fuck.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette had gone mostly mute. She would say a word here or there, but for the most part she was doing a good impression of a vegetable. She stayed silent, as still as possible, and just stared at the ceiling of her hospital room.

She had been like that for the past two weeks they had been monitoring her in the Acid’s aftermath. Her ribs, which had turned out to only be bruised thankfully enough, had healed. Her cheek and torso were healed up too, only the barest hint of sickly yellow to show as a reminder of Joker’s hits on her. Sometimes the cameras would catch her talking to seemingly empty air, only for a nurse to rush in and see that Marinette had gone silent yet again.

Tikki was doing her best to help. She had been separated from Marinette, but Pamela had found Marinette’s purse and returned it— and subsequently Tikki— when they had gotten her to the hospital. She was the only person Marinette regularly spoke to, because Marinette knew Tikki understood. Tikki had been around since the Big Bang, she had seen worse things than a little insanity. Tikki had always been there to help her feel at ease with her mind and body. She shared a piece of Tikki’s soul, even, according to the tiny god.

But talking to anyone else was too hard. Too scary. She still had those damned voices at war in her mind, trying to convince her to do things that made her lock her joints and keep her body absolutely still before she acted on any of the coaxes. Possibilities she had never considered before came startlingly easy to her mind now— like how it would only take two seconds to tear her IV out and stab it into her nurse’s eye. How she could use her blanket to strangle Momma Ivy, or how she could fake jumping out the window and Harley wouldn’t waste a second trying to save her.

They were horrible thoughts. Intrusive, ugly, and far too loud. She didn’t want to act on any of them, but sometimes she found her fingers twitching only a second before she could follow through on one.

She spent a lot of time meditating, because of it. Which is why most people thought she was ignoring them. She didn’t mean to, she just needed to meditate. It was like her brain was a giant room filled with filing cabinets that held her thoughts and emotions. Her whole life, Marinette had carefully kept this room alphabetized, organized, and neat. Every file in its correct drawer. Until Joker had come along, and ripped the entire place apart. Tore certain files in half, broke her cabinets, ruined her filing system. And now she had to put the room back together, one drawer and piece of paper at a time.

That’s what the meditation was doing. She was getting reacquainted with herself. Learning what had changed in her mind and trying to adjust. She couldn’t be the old Marinette anymore, but she’d be damned if she let the Joker turn her into someone ugly like him.

So she needed time.

One day, towards the end of those two weeks, she got a visitor slipping through her window. Considering her room was on the tenth floor, she had it pretty narrowed down as to who it could be. Batman had visited her every night, a silent shadow in the corner, but he had already left for the day so it couldn’t be him. None of the other bats had dropped by after the second day.

She turned her head to see that that was now changed; Red Hood sat on her windowsill with one leg inside the room and the other bent on the sill itself. He looked the very picture of comfort despite being a stiff wind (or quick shove— no, bad brain) away from falling to his death. And then Hood took off his helmet, which was ugly enough to inspire some of the more violent suggestions in her brain and make them seem appealing.

“Ya know. Red Hood used to be what Joker called himself,” were the first words out of the vigilante’s mouth. Marinette’s eyebrows pulled down, and it was clear she was confused (and a little angry) at what he told her. He grinned, his eyes still hidden by the domino mask on his face. “Eh. The bastard killed me, ya know. I was the second Robin, a lifetime ago.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at that, and the violent voices dimmed and seemed to grow muffled. Marinette couldn’t quite understand what they were trying to tell her anymore, which made her figure that she had better pay attention to what Hood had to say. She licked her dry lips, and spoke softly. Her throat was still damaged from the acid, so she couldn’t speak very loudly yet.

“Then how are you… you know, here?”

The man chuckled. “Another group of assholes happens to have a magic pit in their basement. It’s a glowing green lake, ten different types of bad news. But it brings people back to life, and they dunked me in it without even caring for a second if I even wanted to come back.”

Marinette’s shoulders relaxed all on their own. It seemed to sink into her brain all at once, a simple:

Oh. He gets it.

“I guess the water doesn’t take it easy on your brain, either?” She hazarded an educated guess. He laughed, shaking his head.

“Not at all. I went off the deep end for a while, and killed a lotta people. They deserved it at least, but I don’t like how violent I was back then. Before I learned how to cope. Attacked people who were innocent. Red Robin almost died when I attacked him, back then, when he was just Robin.”

“Then why’d you keep calling yourself Red Hood?” She asked, tilting her head. He finally turned his head to look straight at her instead of just staring out the window. His grin widened, but it was lopsided. The grin of someone who was healed from some serious shit, but knew that it would always ache. A bittersweet expression.

“Cuz he doesn’t own that name. I made it into something that stands for at least a little good. Something that scares the assholes who don’t care about killing or abusing innocent people. Hell, some people take comfort in the name Red Hood now. And you know what that means?”

Marinette shook her head, and his grin widened into a shark-like smile.

“It means I stole it from him. The name Red Hood. He’ll never use it again, and now it stands for the opposite of anything he’d agree with. You can do that too, you know. Find something to steal from him, or use something he gave you, and make it your own.”

“Turn the chaos into something good,” Marinette said dreamily, clearly quoting someone. Red Hood nodded.

“Exactly. It’s not gonna be easy, but you got the choice here. You ain’t going back to who you used to be, but you can take the victory away from him.”

“... make him regret ever dunking me in that stupid vat,” she agreed, narrowing her eyes as they filled with determination for the first time since her body hit the acid. “He wants a puppet, an obedient little doll, I’ll give him Annabel.”

“There ya go,” The vigilante slid off the windowsill and approached her bed, holding out his hand for a shake. “I can help you get to that. What do ya say?”

Marinette was silent for a long minute, staring straight into his masked eyes. And then, a slow smile spread over her lips. “I got one question, Red Hood.”

“Shoot.”

“How do you feel about black cats?”

—*—*—*—*—*

This took four hours, holy hell. I’m actually happy with how this turned out. What do you guys think? I even got to max length on Tumblr 😂

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #jasonette #bio!dad joker #bio!mom harley quinn #Poison Ivy x Marinette #platonic brucinette

[flames-tstuff]

Okay so, um, I hope you don’t mind me requesting something! ^.^ 💕 You always support me and I wanna support you too!

So, Uraraka and Ojiro. Fluff & Tickles. The idea is that Uraraka is stressed out and one way she copes is by coloring, and Bakugou or whoever sees her and teases her, then Ojiro defends her and says like, it’s fine to be a kid sometimes, bc they’ve grown up pretty fast. And so like, the next day they go to a park and swing, he gets her ice cream, then they go back to the dorm and color while watching cartoons, and then a tickle scene happens on the cartoon, and then it leads to him tickling her and hugs and cuddles and friendship. Aaaaa 🙈

To Be a Kid Again (BNHA)

Ojiro wants to show Uraraka that it’s okay to be a kid again sometimes.

Pairings: Platonic Uraraka and Ojiro

Warnings: Bakugou being a jerk, some light angst

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: Omg this is such a cute pairing!! I've never even considered them together, either as friends or as partners. What would their ship name be? Ojiraka? Also, I've never written for either of them, so I hope this is okay!

Uraraka was tired. It had been a long day at school, and despite the fact that it was only Wednesday, she was more than ready for the weekend.

After changing out of her uniform and grabbing a couple items from her room, Uraraka flopped down onto one of the couches of the commons with a heavy sigh. She really didn’t have anything to do now that classes were over for the day. She’d already finished her homework and dinner wasn’t for another or hour or so. Despite how exhausted she was, she had just enough energy left to do one of her favorite activities to pass the time: coloring.

She didn’t know why exactly, but something about sitting down and letting herself get lost in the mindlessness of coloring had always been soothing to her. So there she was, sitting on the couch crisscross, using her knee as a table and getting to work. After a few minutes, the brain fog that had been plaguing Uraraka the last couple of hours began to disappear, and her mind was back as ease.

That was, until Bakugou came into the room. Looking just as tired and grumpy as she felt, Bakugou was about to head up to his room when Uraraka accidentally caught his eye.

“What are you looking at, Round Face?”

She quickly looked back down at her lap in alarm. “N-Nothing. Sorry.”

Bakugou continued to glare her way when he noticed the book in her lap and the pile of markers next to her. He came a few feet closer, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Tch. What are you, five years old?”

“Wh… what do you mean?”

At this time, Ojiro had just entered the commons and was just about to step into the elevator when the other students’ conversation caught his attention.

“Coloring books? Seriously? That shit’s for babies.”

Uraraka felt her cheeks start to burn.

“Hey, hey!” Ojiro jogged over to see what the commotion was about. Bakugou tended to pick fights pretty easily. “What’s going on here?”

Bakugou just crossed his arms and scowled at him.

Ojiro looked down at Uraraka, whose ears and cheeks were painted red. He then noticed the art supplies surrounding her. “Is he giving you a hard time?”

Uraraka just looked back and forth between the two of them, not daring to say anything.

“I heard you say something was ‘for babies,’” Ojiro turned to Bakugou with a stern look on his face. “You weren’t talking about coloring, were you?”

Again, silence.

“It’s really not, you know. People draw and color all the time! Besides, even if it was, what’s wrong with that? Everyone should be allowed to do things they enjoy, especially something as harmless as coloring. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem is that we’re trying to be heroes!” Bakugou shot back. “Heroes shouldn’t be doing childish shit like that! If you really wanted to be a hero you’d be out training!”

Ojiro sighed, a little exasperated. “Of course training is important. But rest is important too. Doing things you love is important. If you don’t take the time to be a kid and let loose a little, you’re going to burn out. No pun intended, in your case, Bakugou.” Ojiro smiled, a little teasingly.

“Ugh, whatever,” Bakugou relented and headed back towards the elevator. “Whatever it’ll take for you to shut up and stop lecturing me.”

Uraraka and Ojiro both snickered at that, and in a few moments, it was just the two of them.

“Sorry about that,” Ojiro said apologetically. “Bakugou can be a real pain sometimes.”

“No kidding,” she agreed. “Um… thanks. You really didn’t have to do that. I’m sure I would’ve been okay on my own.”

“Of course you would have! But what are friends for?” Ojiro smiled brightly, holding out his hand. Uraraka smiled back and accepted the hand up. “You hungry? I think it’s about time for dinner.”

~~~

The next day was just as hard, though Uraraka did feel a little better after a good night’s sleep.

After dinner the previous night, Ojiro had asked if she’d want to hang out the next day after classes, in attempt to keep tabs on her since her fight with Bakugou. She assured him she was fine, but he insisted that it was his treat, so she obliged.

“So where are we going?” Uraraka asked walking next to Ojiro on the sidewalk.

“I’m taking you to one of my favorite places.” The two entered a chain link-fenced area.

“…a playground?”

“Yep! This was one of my favorite places in the world as a kid, and it still is. Come on! Let’s swing!”

And before she could argue, Ojiro grabbed her hand and tugged her along towards the swing set. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone else around, so they had the place to themselves.

“So,” Uraraka started, swinging her legs a little. “Why are we doing this exactly? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love hanging out! But where is this coming from?”

Ojiro laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I was thinking, well… I wanted to show you that’s it’s okay to be a kid. To let loose a little. You seemed like you needed it, especially after what happened yesterday.”

Uraraka’s heart warmed at that. She really couldn’t ask for better classmates as friends.

Ojiro’s expression dropped to something a little more serious. “I’ve realized that we’ve all had to grow up so fast in these last few years. It makes me kind of sad.”

“Why is that?” Uraraka questioned.

“Don’t you miss this kind of stuff?” He gestured to the rest of the play set. “As much as I hate it, I think you and I both know there’s some truth to what Bakugou said yesterday. Heroes are supposed to be constantly training, constantly trying to grow and improve their skills. All that’s great, but it leaves no room to be what we actually are… teens. Kids. Don’t you ever feel like you grew up too fast?”

Uraraka couldn’t help but think about her parents. How, as just a little girl, barely old enough to go to school, she committed to helping them make money in any way she could. All the experiences she’d missed out on when she was younger due to her family’s financial situation. “Yeah… I guess I do.”

Ojiro offered a sympathetic smile. “That’s why it’s times like these, in the little spare moments we have to ourselves, that we can take the time to indulge that inner child.”

Uraraka took a moment to digest his words. “I think I understand now.” Then, in a small, hopeful voice: “Maybe... a-after we’re done here, we could... um... get some ice cream?”

Ojiro grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He hopped off his swing. “Race ya!”

“Hey, no fair!” Uraraka laughed and chased after him.

~~~

After getting their ice cream—strawberry for Uraraka and vanilla for Ojiro—the two friends happily walked back to the dorms together.

“By the way,” Ojiro said, “I never got the chance to tell you, but I saw your coloring book, and well… it looks really good!”

“Oh!” Uraraka looked down, a little embarrassed. “Hah, thanks…”

He could tell she did believe him. “I’m being serious! I think it’s really cool that you’re into that kind of stuff. Have you always liked coloring? You seem to be good at it.”

“Yeah, but I really can’t take much credit. I mean, it’s just filling in the shapes. It’s not like I drew it,” she reasoned, licking her ice cream.

“Hey, I can hardly stay in the lines, so it’s impressive to me.”

Uraraka laughed, knowing he was probably just saying that to make her feel good, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

“Thank you,” she said, speaking as sincere as possible. They had made it back to the common area of the dorms where they stood, waiting to depart to their own rooms. “For everything.”

Ojiro realized she thought he had brought her back here to say goodbye. “Hey, if you want, you can hang in my room.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! We could watch TV, or if you have homework to work on, I won’t bother you.”

She smiled. “I’d love that. Thanks again, Ojiro, you’re the best.” She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Ojiro was a little taken aback, but quickly returned the gesture.

The two friends sat comfortably on his bed with their backs against the wall. The TV droned on in the background, mostly forgotten, as they chatted about school and their weekend plans.

Once the conversation died out, they settled down to watch what was playing on the screen, falling into comfortable silence. One of the characters poked the other, making them jump back and laugh. Ojiro smiled at the scene and stole a quick glance at Uraraka to see how she was doing, just in time to see her blush a little at the sight. It was so brief, if he hadn’t looked at just the right moment he would’ve missed it.

Suddenly feeling mischievous, Ojiro darted his hands to Uraraka’s sides and began squeezing, making her squeal and fall back on the bed in a fit of happy giggles.

“Ohohjiroho! Eeeep! Whaha—Why? Hahaha!”

“Because! I wanna hear you laugh! Didn’t I tell you to start letting loose?”

Uraraka was too weak and giddy to respond or do much more than weakly bat his hands in a half-hearted attempt.

Ojiro made the mistake of coming closer to get better purchase on her ribs, and Uraraka pushed through the tickly feeling just enough to be able to reach a hand up and scratch at the base of his spine, making him yelp and jerk away. This gave Uraraka just enough time to gain the upper hand by pushing him down and straddling his waist with her knees.

“Uraraka, wa-HAHAHAIT!” he burst into loud belly laughter as she began kneading up and down his torso the same way he had done to her.

“Maybe you should start taking your own advice, Ojiro!” she laughed with him. “Come on, you shouldn’t be afraid of being a kid again, right? Tickle tickle!”

This made his cheeks turn bright red and his laugh go a few pitches higher.

Uraraka was feeling all-powerful with Ojiro now at her mercy. That was, until she felt a soft, feathery feeling against her neck and under her chin, making her flinch and snort.

“Ohohoh my gohohosh, you snohorted!” Ojrio teased through his own laughter.

“N-no fahahair!” Uraraka stammered out as best she could. “You shohouldn’t be allowed t-to use your tahahail!”

“Wehehell too bahad! I’m using it!”

The two stayed like that, trying to out-tickle each other—Uraraka going at his ribs and belly, and Ojiro trying his best to throw her off using his tail to brush all over her neck and sides, both laughing hysterically. Eventually Uraraka was weakened just enough for Ojiro to get her back one last time before they both collapsed in exhaustion.

“Jeez, you don’t give up easy, do you?” Uraraka panted, a big smile still on her face.

“No,” Ojiro agreed. “But you held out pretty long too, I’m impressed.”

After finally catching their breath, Uraraka opened her arms in offering. “Cuddles?”

Ojiro couldn’t have refused the offer if he tried. “Heh. Yeah, cuddles.”

He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her torso, leaning his head into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him in return, resting her head atop his.

And there they stayed for the rest of the evening.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #ojiro mashirao #ler!ojiro #lee!ojiro #switch!ojiro #uraraka ochako #ler!uraraka #lee!uraraka #switch!uraraka #hurt/comfort #bnha fluff #flame writes #flames stuff #requests #request #writing requests #asks #ask #flame answers #made-by-jade-222 #ojiro #uraraka #bnha mashirao #bnha ochako

[legends-live-in-memories]

Downtown Detour

ayo its ya boi back with more timari and ignoring my wips cuz im plagued with timari brainrot

written in the same au as: 

Rooftop Rendezvous and 

Alleyway Altercation (NSFW)

AO3 link to the series

Timari 2.2K words, no warnings other than references to intimate relations

Summary:

“Red Robin makes a breakthrough in his investigation of the new Gotham Rogue and goes to confront her about it.”

without further ado

Tim could not believe this. The new Rogue, Karma—Marinette Dupain-Cheng— had been spotted a total of three times since their last encounter by either his brothers or the cops and none have been able to subdue her for more than fleeting seconds. She was caught breaking into a politician’s house when the man was away on another one of his exotic hunting trips; another artefact was stolen from the museum after that, one they were unable to retrieve; and finally she was last seen escaping from Robin by the mayor’s office, only no one know what was taken from there. All three times she was spotted and nothing to show for it other than bruised egos and missing items. 

During his little investigation into her supposed civilian name, he came across a series of interesting police reports from Paris, France of all places. A penchant for grand theft auto since her teenage years as well as a series of vandalism and reports of stolen student records from her high school at the time. There was even a rescinded expulsion, a litany of suspensions and a plethora of unexcused absences. She was a cookie cutter criminal in the making. But for Tim, it didn’t make sense. While all the evidence points to a child delinquent grown into an adult criminal, something about the situation set Tim’s teeth on edge. There was something missing. Something she wanted Tim to find out, if her giving him her name was anything to go by. But what?

She had no local address on file and the last piece of legal information that had any traceable location was a one-way ticket to Shanghai from four years ago. Immediately after her high school graduation. All her social media was deleted around the same time. She had effectively gone off the grid up until her emergence as a part of Gotham less than stellar night life. But why?

A closer look at her time in Paris led him to discover an interesting trend but it wasn’t anything concrete. Starting about when Karma—Marinette— was thirteen, her unexcused absences lined up with some of their infamous akuma attacks. While at first it could be argued that many children had unexcused absences in the beginning, and she had less than perfect attendance even before then, her disappearances also coincided with attacks far from her school which was where she should have been at those times. Then there were reports filed by police who spoke with her parents about her sneaking out at night which also lined up with notable akuma attacks. Either she was an overzealous fan of the city’s temporary heroes, or she was constantly in the thick of the action and kept it a secret from people close to her, letting her reputation suffer for it.

‘Trust me, I know all about acting in the name of the greater good. The good-girl act got tiring after a few years,’ she had said. ‘Much more rewarding to give into your own self-interests,’ she continued. ‘Something you could try emulating.’

Her words echoed in his mind. He never thought much of them before, his mind preoccupied with other things her mouth was doing that night. It could also be chalked up to everyone being the hero of their own story and she had just coloured her own experiences. But just maybe… 

Before he could entertain that train of thinking, his phone alarm was alerting him of his scheduled patrol. Hopefully he could catch a hold of his current person of interest and get some more answers. And perhaps get a read on what her intentions are in this city. With him.

~~~~~~~~

The skyline was a welcoming sight as he flung himself from building to building. The wind beneath him carried him across the sky like an actual bird and the thrill of the freefall lit his nerves on fire. His route was quiet but his appearance should coax out a certain thief. Red Hood was investigating a weapons smuggling deal that was set to take place by the Gotham Harbour. Nightwing was back in Bludhaven with Signal, introducing him to nighttime patrol. Robin and Black Bat were tracking a drug deal that was rumoured to disrupt the balance of the Narrows. Spoiler was with Batman doing their regular routes and Batwoman was doing her own thing somewhere. Oracle, as always, was on standby on comms and monitoring everything. This was the perfect opportunity for Karma to strike so Red Robin just had to be patient. The night was young.

An hour into his sweep of the city and Oracle was patching him into a radio call about a break-in in some pawnshop back in the Fashion District. It wasn’t on his route tonight but Oracle figured that with their likely suspect, and his arrangement with her, he was their best shot at apprehending her. If only temporarily. 

He arrived at the pawnshop without fanfare and found the storefront window broken into. Further inspection led him face to face with the object of his affection. Karma was posed calmly behind the cashier counter rifling through an assortment of jewelry that was left on display in the glass cases. It was only the faint twitch in her eyebrow that indicated her awareness of his presence. Other than that he went completely ignored. That won’t do. Not tonight. He approached her slowly and stopped on the other side of the counter, leaning into her space. He could faintly smell her rose-scented perfume. Her strawberry shampoo. Even the cherry lip gloss she wears under the mask. He’s tasted it enough times to know how strong it was. For a vision clad in black she was rather fond of red flavours. 

“Can I help you, Tweety Bird?” her voice was soft, sprinkled with faux indifference, not wanting to disrupt the background noise of rings and necklaces clanking together. She hasn’t looked at him once.

“Breaking and entering and attempted theft are serious crimes, Karma.” He saw a faint twitch of amusement in her eyebrow but her posture was relaxed and non-assuming.

“That’s not why you’re here. That’s not why I’m here either.” Her eyes sweep up to him as she stops searching the jewelry. She’s staring intently at him as if he’s to understand the meaning behind the words she’s not saying. He does. They’ve played this back and forth before. Danced their little tango of push and pull. 

“You wanted to see me then? Thought this was the best way to get my attention, hmm?” He leaned in, pressing his weight more into the counter. She matched his advance and propped her face in the palm of her hand. Her finger tapped on her mask. He figured if the accessory wasn’t there she’d be biting that finger instead. 

“Well it worked. Didn’t it? You’re here after plenty of time to conduct a rather thorough investigation into who I am. Or was.” She took off the mask, finally, and he was right. Her lips were shining in the dim light of the night with the familiar hues of her lip gloss. He presses on to not let himself get distracted by the slight smile on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng. Paris, born and raised. Above average student in terms of grades but a disciplinary streak about a hundred miles wide.” At this her head tilts in amusement. Her faint nod encourages him to divulge all the aspects of his research. “Absences and tardies more often than any recorded presences. About twelve suspensions in the span of three years and a rescinded expulsion when you were about fourteen. A couple run-ins with the police in regards to charges of theft and property destruction.” Her face scrunched in an adorable pout at that as if it were a reminder of an embarrassing moment and not outlines of criminal offenses.  

“Definitely not my finer moments, I assure, but keep going. You’re doing so well,” she interrupted him. She had shifted so that she could jump over the counter and sit atop it, her legs crossed and her arms bearing her weight behind her. Red Robin was temporarily silenced by the arch in her back and the lean lines of her exposed neck. He rose to his full height; just barely reaching her shoulder, due to her new vantage point. 

“You disappeared after your high school graduation, my investigation says you ran off to Shanghai but I believe there’s more to it than that.” She had uncrossed her legs to accommodate him between them and drew him closer by his shoulders. Acting on instinct, his arms found purchase on her waist and he was brushing the pad of his gloved thumb across the exposed skin. It was uncharacteristically soft but neither heeded mind to it.

“You think there’s more to me than that?” She leans in, almost breathing the same air as him. “You’d be the first,” she continued while snaking a hand up his neck to scratch lightly at his scalp. The touch sent shivers down his spine and had his toes curling in anticipation.

“So tell me then,” he licked his lips and stared at her through the film of his mask. “What is Paris’s Lady Luck doing here causing mischief in Gotham?” The question was a gamble and could upset the rapport he had with Karma. He was the team’s only lead on her, for better or worse, and he didn’t want to ruin whatever it was between them.

It was probably the right thing to say though, because she hasn’t left him yet but instead was staring at him with something indescribable in her eyes. Excitement? Approval? Affection? Red Robin wasn’t sure what to make of the glimmer of emotion in her eyes other than to take it as a good sign.

“You got this far in your investigation, Tweety Bird,” she leaned in closer, just a hair’s width away. “Why ruin the chase and tell you everything now?” Her lips were brushing against his as she spoke and the cherry flavour was almost distracting. His tongue peaked out to swipe a stronger taste. The arms around her waist tightened and he pulled her to the edge of the counter, her legs wrapping around him on instinct.

“Surely you could reward me for figuring out this much, right?” His voice was pitched so low if she wasn’t already breathing in his words he would have worried that she didn’t hear him. “After all, it’s not everyday someone discovers the identity of the allusive Ladybug.”

“The bird wants a reward, does he?” She finally sealed his lips with hers, stealing any half-baked retort he might have had. This kiss was different from the multitude they’ve exchanged in their times together, carrying over the unanswered emotions from their last encounter and introducing new ones into the mix. The air felt still and cool on his face and the fingers in his hair tightened even further. 

They were like that for what felt like hours but was merely a few minutes; just calmly exchanging kisses, nothing straying beyond that silently defined line. They didn’t need anymore for tonight. Karma had taken to progress this further by trailing her lips to the sharp cut of his jaw. She alternated between small kisses and even smaller bites as she made her way up to his ear. Her breath was warm against the shell of his ear and he leaned into the faint contact. A lick and a bite later, her lips were curled up into a smirk as her hand in his hair held him in place. 

They stayed like that for moments lost to time. Neither making the next move, nerves buzzing with anticipation. He felt an itch for more that only she could scratch and she was denying him that satisfaction. Despite that he made no inclination to instigate more, letting the ball stay in her court. After more silent minutes he felt rather than heard her chuckle against his ear. She jumped off the counter, pressing every curve of her body against his. Even then, he unconsciously tried to pull her closer, pressing her against his front and the tempered glass of the counter. Before he could do as he pleased with his new leverage, she wiggled out of his grasp and moved towards the broken storefront window, mask in hand. 

“It was great to see you tonight,” she throws a glance over her shoulder, readjusting the mask over the lower half of her face. “And I’m glad my assumptions of you were right.”

“What assumptions? What do you mean?” The confusion was almost palpable beneath the traces of cherries. He moved to reach for her, to keep her here for a bit longer. To explain herself. To not leave him. She evaded his grasp and leapt out the broken window. From outside the building she turned to him and aimed what was clearly Red Robin’s grappling hook out to the nearest building.

Instead of answering him she chuckled and tilted her head in amusement at his growing distress. 

“See you around, Tim.” Her parting words were lost to the air as she shot off with the grapple into the night. Red Robin stood frozen, rooted in place at the use of his civilian name. How did she know? Who exactly did he decide to get entangled with? Among the cacophony of new questions one thing was for certain.

He was utterly fucked.

#maribat #timari #timinette #ml x dc #this is tame to others in this little mini series #tumblr dont fucking try me #surprisingly NOT hornknee hours #i know i surprised myself with this one too

[bts-hyperfixation]

Why Not Then? 18+

Here it is in all it s 4327 words.... This one kind of got away from me.

angst/fluff/smut 

I hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex

pic found here

Tonight’s the night. At least that’s what you were telling yourself. Senior prom. It’s now or never. Tonight is the night you are going to tell Jungkook how you really feel about him. He has to feel the same way, you are inseparable. There is no doubt in your mind that the only obstacle in the way is fear, not wanting to ruin the friendship you had worked so hard to build. The doorbell sounds through your house and you take a deep breath. For the hundredth time that day you look in the mirror. Curls frame your face, makeup done to perfection, and the seafoam A-line dress you had chosen made you feel like a queen. Your mother calls you downstairs, you can hear your father making polite conversation with your date as they wait for you. Another reason you are so sure Jungkook feels the same, he is your date. He could’ve had any other girl in school, but he asked you.

The moment you descend from the top of the stairs is like a movie. His goofy little bunny smile lights up his face when he sees you. You try as elegantly as possible to parade down the stairs, using one hand to lift the hemline of your dress, as the other glides along the bannister. You take your time. Eyeing him up as you go, the tuxedo was such a stark difference to his usual gym shorts. He was stunning. His short dark hair quaffed and gelled. Everything was going to go as planned tonight. You could just feel it.

“You look beautiful as ever” he laughs taking your hand and spinning you. You can’t help giggling.

“Not too bad yourself.” You pull on the lapels of his jacket. He bats you away a straightens himself back up just as the flash goes off on your mother’s camera. She arranges the two of you in to ten different poses before letting you leave. Jungkook had driven his beat-up convertible to pick you up. To anyone else that car would be an eyesore, but he loved it, and so did you. So many nights spent just talking and looking up at the stars, cuddled up under an old picnic blanket. To you it was a pumpkin carriage.

He opens your door for you and helps to fold your skirt so it wouldn’t rip in the limited space. He runs to the other side and jumps over the door and into his seat. Your parents wave you off as you pull away. It’s a short drive to the school. 10 minutes at most. He parks like a pro, doing that thing that guys do when they reverse into a space. The twisting just so you can see more of their neck and watch how their arms flex around the back of your headrest. You start to climb out of the seat when suddenly he is in front of you, hand extended to help you. It’s hard not to laugh at how hard he is trying to be a proper gentleman tonight.

“Come on Y/N-ah, the night of our dreams awaits.” He quotes the prom theme. The unbelievably cringy and cliched ‘night of our dreams’. Walking through the doors, it was still blatantly obvious you were in the school gym, but the prom committee at least tried their best. Tacky streamers in blues and silvers, star themed props, a solar system themed photo booth. Its clear they had to use some of the previous year’s decorations, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The butterflies were building in your stomach. Anxious and excited about where your confession could take you.

All of your other friends are already here, dancing to the catchy pop music blaring over the sound system. The path to them is crowded with other sweating high-schoolers, so Jungkook decides just the two of you should go and take photos. He pulls you towards the photo booths, lining up with the other groups and couples waiting their turns. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he is still holding on to your hand. Tight.

“Don’t you want to go dance with the others?” you gesture towards those in the middle of the floor, laughing as one of the boys loses his balance mimicking a slut drop.

“No, I want to take some stupid pictures with my best friend and date for the evening.” He winks at you, a move that should come off as light -hearted and cringy. Instead it feels like he has shot you in the heart. The response you come back with shocks you.

“Just because you’re in love with me.” You accompany the remark by sticking your tongue out at him. He grabs your chin and makes you look him directly in the eyes. Your heart beats double time. It looks like he is going to kiss you. Before his face gets close enough to yours, he ruins it.

“You wish Y/N.” he laughs it off, but you see it as your chance. Now or never, tonight’s the night…

“Actually…” and then it’s your turn for pictures. You don’t get a chance to get the rest of the sentence out. Whether he heard or not you don’t know but now he is excitedly rummaging around a box of props. He pulls out a silver feather boa and oversized-blue sunglasses for you, finding a matching set for himself. It’s a strip of four photos. One smile, one where he jabs you in the ribs, one with silly faces, and one where you kiss him… only on the cheek. Not enough to throw yourself in the deep end, just enough to gauge his reaction.

His ears turn bright red and he stammers about going to find the others as you exit the booth. It has to be a good sign if you make him flustered, right? The next hour is spent ruining all the work that had gone into this evening. Hair stuck to sweaty foreheads, makeup creasing around the eyes, lipstick wiped on the backs of hands. When the live band comes onto play, you and your friends head outside for air. It’s nice feeling the wind, a slight chill in the late hour. Most of your friends can’t hack it for too long, choosing to return to the dance floor in time for the party tracks to come on. Eventually it leaves just you and him. You hear the opening chords of the cha cha slide start up inside and decide now is a good a time as ever, more than eager to avoid the choreographed dance portion of the evening.

“Can I talk to you?” you reach for his hand. He turns to look at you properly and sees the serious look on your face, his brows furrowing to match.

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing’s wrong, just come with me.” He lets you drag him away from the gym. You head toward the school greenhouse, no one is going to come looking for you there.

“This is weirdly private Y/N, are you sure everything is okay?” he feels your forehead as if he is worried you have suddenly fallen ill.

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for the longest time and I can’t not anymore, it’s time.” He opens his mouth to speak again, the confusion evident in his eyes. You raise a finger to his lip to stop him. “I’m in love with you.” The words escape more like vomit than a statement. It feels so freeing to get the words out. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. Finally admitting how you feel is an amazing feeling. Until you take in the way he is looking at you. You might as well have grown a second head. Your about to speak again when he turns on his heel and makes a run for it.

He walks briskly away from the concealed shed and back inside of the school. You don’t know if you should laugh or cry. Of all the responses you thought you’d get; abandonment was not one of them. It takes you a moment to snap out of the shock he had left you in. you follow the trail he took back into the main hall. Spotting him even through the crowd, people parted as he passed them. He beelines straight through the gym and though the doors into the main corridors. When you make it into the hallway, he is at the other end about to disappear around a corner.

“Stop running away from me!” you yell a little too loud, other lingering students stop and stare at you on their ways back from the bathroom. Unfortunately, you can’t bring yourself to care. Jungkook faulters for a moment before continuing. “Jeon Jungkook! I said stop.” You kick off your heels and run in the direction he disappeared. You nearly run full force into his chest as you turn the corner not expecting him to be there.

“Why?” his voice is small and harsh, not the usual bubbly tone he always has for you.

“Why what?” your more than a little annoyed that you had to chase him only for him to ask you a question.

“Why do you love me?” it’s not the question you thought he’d ask. Why now? How long? What’s your ring size? Those were the questions you had been prepared for. Not why do you love him. you thought that was obvious. “Seriously, why do you think your in love with me?” that stung ‘think’ he doesn’t believe you. Thinks its some silly girly crush you have.

“I love you because you’re you. You’re my best friend, you make me happy when no one else does, my heart hurts when I don’t see you for more than a day.” You reach for his hands, trying your best to convey your sincerity. He flinches in response. Pulls way back out of your reach.

“I don’t feel the same way.” Now it really does feel like someone has stabbed you. Run you straight through with a sword. Your stomach twists so hard you might throw up. This wasn’t an option. In all the ways you had imagine your prom night going, this hadn’t crossed your mind. You taste the tears at the corners of your lips before you realise your crying. “You can’t just spring something like this on someone Y/N! we were having such a great night, why did you have to do this.” He is not only rejecting you, he is blaming you for having feelings. It’s all too much.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. The lump in your throat makes it hard for you to speak at all. “I just thought…”

“You thought wrong.” His response is so fast, cutting off every chance you might’ve had to put a band aid over the situation. Maybe held it together until the night was over. Now there is no chance of that.

“I’m sorry.” You try again but he just rolls his eyes. Instead of making you sadder, this reaction makes you angry. How dare he. How dare he just dismiss you like you never meant anything to him. Like you weren’t even a friend.

“I should take you home.” He gestures towards a nearby exit. He doesn’t reach for your hand to guide you like he would’ve any other point in the night. You shake you head and walk back in the direction you came, picking up your shoes as you passed them. You walked straight out of the front gates and all the way home. That was the last conversation you’d have with Jungkook for a long time.

Graduation came and went. He tried to talk to you a few times in person, but you just walked away. Still seething at the way he reacted.  He texted you constantly, left voicemails until you blocked his number. Your other friends never found out exactly what happened. They pieced bits together from what the two of you were able to talk about but never the full picture. When he started coming to your house to apologise you decided it was time to move on and headed to college early.

You were in town for a wedding. One of your high school friends had managed to meet the love of their life while away at college and asked you to come. It was a nice excuse to visit your parents. You didn’t come home as often as you would’ve liked. The town felt a little haunted after you finished school, so you tried hard to avoid it. Especially at times like this.

You were standing in your childhood bedroom, dressed to the nines once more. This time knowing that Jungkook was not going to be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. But he might be at the wedding. Getting over the boy you had never really been with was more of a challenge than you could’ve ever imagined. It took you almost the entire first year away to truly get some peace on the situation. You even started to understand his point of view. He was just an 18-year-old boy trying to enjoy one of the last nights he’d get with his friends. The you had gone and dumped a whole load of new information on him. It wasn’t fair of you, just as much as it wasn’t fair of him. Truthfully, a little part of you would always wonder what if. What if he had felt the same way, would people be coming home for your wedding instead? Or would it have fizzled out long distance?

You are pulled out of your thoughts by your phone signalling the arrival of your uber. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed you clutch and headed out, eerily reminiscent of that night.

Five years later.

The wedding is at a fancy hotel on the other side of town. You are escorted by the ushers into the main room. you quickly scan the area for him. You don’t even know if he is coming but you don’t want to be caught off guard. Coming up empty you thank the groom’s men and find a seat in the back of the bride’s section where you can survey the room.

It feels ridiculous being so on guard around the person that used to mean the world to you. Your eyes meet as soon as he walks through the door. He seems genuinely surprised to see you there. He tries a weak smile and lifts his hand to wave in your direction, but you put your head down, choosing to focus on the intricacies of the program instead. 4 hymns and a sermon. For a nonchurch wedding it sure seemed religious. You roll your eyes and settle in for a long one. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he skulks away. Sitting a few rows in front of you. You allow yourself the luxury of looking at him now that he can’t look back. His hair is a lot longer now. The suit he has chosen definitely fits a lot better than his prom tux. His shoulders are nicely outlined, strong and broad. It’s a nice visual.

The wedding seems to happen around you. Old friends come over to catch up. Vows are exchanged everyone is shuffled into a banquet hall. All the while you are watching Jungkook out of the corner of your eye. Seeing him go through the motions just as you are. Three tables away. Clearly your friend has been smart enough to think that through when creating two singles tables in her seating plan.

The night wore on. Speeches were made, drinks were spilt. More than one groom’s man ripped his trousers on the dance floor. You were getting some air in the gardens when he found you.

“You look beautiful as ever.” His voice is soft, but it still makes you jump, not expecting him to approach you at all.

“Thanks.” You move to brush passed him, eager to put some space between you. Very Much not wanting to exchange awkward pleasantries with the man that, after today, you were sure still owned your heart. He steps back into your path, and makes you meet his eyes. It hurts all over again. Every feeling you had that night rushes back, every bit of progress you’d made since then erased in a matter of seconds.

“Can we talk? Please?” he sounds almost as desperate to talk to you as you are to leave.

“Talk about what Jungkook? It’s been years, just let it lie.”

“Exactly it’s been years and I know how I feel about you now, know how I felt about you then… please just let me explain myself.” He pleads with you. You stand firm, half of you longing to hear him out, the other half wanting to run the way he had.

“Why should I let you talk now? You didn’t let me talk then.” You can hear the venom dripping in your tone but can’t bring yourself to adjust your voice.

“I was a kid back then Y/N, and I was scared I was going to lose you” he chuckles darkly “I guess I did that anyway.” He grabs for your hand, this time you get to pull away from him. None of this is fair, where was this person when you needed him five years ago? He sighs at your reaction. “Look I was terrified okay? I didn’t know how I felt about you. I just knew everything was changing and I didn’t want us to change. But I know who I am and what I want now, and that’s you.” He closes the distance you had put between you in one stride. His mouth heavy on yours trying to prove a point.

You can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Instead melting into his embrace. Letting yourself indulge in the boy that was all you ever wanted.

“Why now? Why not then?” you ask when he finally pulls away.

“Because you wouldn’t speak to me until now. I wanted to tell you the day after, but you wouldn’t talk to me. And you were right to do so. I was such an asshole to you about it. Let me make it up to you.” He peppers your face with kisses.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared too.” He holds you tight cradling you into his chest. You stand there for a while. Taking in everything about him that you’d missed. The smell of fresh cotton, the warmth he always radiated. All of it.

“I have a room upstairs if you want to go. Maybe we could watch a movie?” you pull away to look straight up at him. he must have realised what it sounded like then because his mouth formed an o and his eyes widened. “Wait no, I really did mean a movie.” He tries to backtrack.

“What if you didn’t mean a movie?” as soon as your meaning sinks in, he is sprinting away. This time with you in tow, struggling to keep up. Eventually he decides you are slowing him down. He lifts you bridal style into the nearest elevator. He refuses to put you down, even though you are forced into a standstill. As soon as the door dings, he is through them. Balancing you and opening the door isn’t even a challenge as he bursts through into the luxurious hotel room. He throws you unceremoniously on to the bed before discarding his jacket on the floor. You watch, propped up on your elbows, as he loosens his tie and kicks off his shoes before helping you with yours. He runs his hand up the back of your calf, rolling down the stockings you’d worn in an effort to avoid tights.

His hair falls into his eyes as he meets your gaze, and you can’t take the teasing anymore. Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him on top of you. Your lips finding his, unwilling to let go until your lungs hurt. He has one arm by your head, supporting some of his weight while the other trails down your waist. He drags his fingertips along your thigh as he moves your hemline. With your skirt out of the way his hand moves in between you bodies finding its way to your clothed pussy.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so long… can I?” he kisses down your neck as he asks, leaving you barely able to respond. You just about manage to squeak out your approval. He wastes no time, biting into the soft flesh of your thighs as he wraps his hands around your panties. They are disposed of quickly, likely ruined by the slick you can feel pooling between your legs. He licks along your slit, barely delving between your folds. The tip of his tongue flicking at your clit briefly before he goes back and starts the motion again. Each time he gets close to your clit he brushes it slightly, so you shiver with anticipation, but he waits until you are practically panting to go any further. His right hand joins his talented tongue. Two fingers slipping inside of you. The slight stretch burns so good. His mouth moves up, biting gingerly at the sensitive nub he had been teasing for so long. Your thighs clamp involuntarily around his head. He wraps his free arm around your leg, driving you apart to give him better access. His tongue comes back into play drawing little shapes on your clit as he sucks down. He curls his fingers in just the right way to have you coming undone underneath him. Biting your lips to keep yourself quiet. He swats at your thigh until your teeth let go, forcing your moans out into the open. When you stop writhing, he lets your leg go and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Sitting back on his feet he won’t stop looking at you weird. Its an expression you can’t ever remember him making before, and that worries you.

“What? Why are you looking at me? Were the noises too weird? I tried to keep them in…” he pulls you up to him by the wrists and kisses you before answering.

“I love you… please shut up. Your moans are the sexiest thing I think I have ever heard. Now I just really want to get you out of the rest of your clothes. He reaches around to unzip your dress, fumbling for a moment until you take pity and take it off yourself. His shirt is already unbuttoned by the time the fabric is over your head. You help him to push the sleeves off his arms, taking great pleasure in rubbing your hands across his toned arms. You marvel at the amount of muscle he has gained for a moment before he drags you back to him, falling onto his back so you straddle him.

You make quick work of the clothing on his lower half. Perhaps a little too keen to see what you were working with. He does not disappoint. His cock is above average in length, immediately evident as it slaps against his stomach when released from it’s confines. You shuffle back for a moment to admire the full image. His hair falls haphazardly around his head, lips swollen from the kisses. Perfectly chiselled abs leading into an arrow to what you can only describe as the motherlode. Everything about this moment was worth the wait. But you refused to wait any longer. You stroke your hand softly along his shaft, pumping a few times before moving to sit yourself on top. You sink down slowly at first, having to take extra precaution to not hurt yourself. His eyes pinch shut and his nose crinkles as a little whimper escapes his mouth. You slap his chest.

“If I’m not allowed to stay quiet, neither are you.” He nods enthusiastically and opens one eye just as you reach the base of his dick.

“Fuck.” His voice low and breathy. Sounds more like he just ran a marathon than had a girl sit on him. As you feel more comfortable, you start to wriggle your hips, not thrusting away, just enough friction to tease him like he did you. You don’t get away with it for quite as long though. His hands are on your hips and you are powerless to stop him as he makes you bounce, meeting each thrust with one of his own. Soon it’s not enough for him. Too worked up to relinquish any control. He flips you quickly, now on your knees. He barely gives you time to orientate yourself before driving into you from behind. Fast, sloppy thrusts used to reach his own end. He snakes one arm underneath you. Skilled fingers finding your clit, playing with you until you tighten around him. making it difficult for him to keep going.

Soon he spills over, cumming deep inside of you. Holding onto you with all he has. Instead of pulling out, he falls over with you in his arms. Cuddling into the back of you as he comes down. You wiggle experimentally on his softening cock, earning you a growl. You giggle at his oversensitivity and try to get free as painlessly as possible.

“Don’t go” he is whiny when he is tired, it’s so endearing. He makes a grabby hand at you as you clamber of the side of the bed

“I’m only going to the bathroom; I’ll be right back.” You kiss him on the cheek as you round the bed.

“Good because I never want to be without you, ever again.” he admits as you walk into the bathroom.

February request - open

Masterlist

#purplearmynet #bts fic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jjk smut #jungkook smut #jeongkook smut #jeongguk smut #feb 21 #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #kpop smut #kpop fic #jeon jungkook x y/n #100

[instasiswetrust]

Rain patters against the window panes, filling the room with the cozy kind of silence that leaves you feeling lethargic no matter what time of the day it is. A thunderstorm had enveloped Hawkins like a shroud, refusing to budge despite the sunny morning that had greeted them.

Steve is all loose limbs, and comfortable warmth, cozy under the arms that wrap around his waist. He's got his head tucked under Billy's chin, ear pressed against his chest to listen to the steady beat of that heart. A heart that he almost thought he would never hear again after-

"Let's get out of this town. Drive out of the city, away from the crowds."

The words are spoken so quietly that if Steve didn't have his head on Billy's chest he doubts he would have been able to hear them. They are enough to make him lose his grim train of thought. Maybe for the better.

Wait, what?

It takes a moment for the words to register, a frown finding its way upon Steve's face. Propping himself up on his elbows he looks down at Billy with questioning eyes.

"Where would we even go?" Because he's not going to say no to an offer like that. Hawkins is too big at times, but other times it feels so small like he's suffocating just by existing among the borders of this town.

"Does it matter?" Billy's voice interrupts his thoughts, a gentle grin curling his lips. "We could just take one of the cars and drive out, see where the road takes us. Get out of Bumfuck, Indiana for a few days. Live a little."

"We live enough just by being in Hawkins."

"Fighting eldritch creatures from another dimension doesn't count."

"I don't know man, going toe to toe with a demodog makes me feel pretty alive."

Billy rolls his eyes but the way he tenses up, iron-clad defenses raising once again, makes it clear that he's serious about this. Steve doesn't give him time to take back his words though, leaning in to press a light kiss to the hollow of his throat.

After everything that happened with Neil, Billy almost dying and then moving in with him, Steve doesn’t have the heart to deny him this either.

"I will go with you. Wherever it is you want to go, even if it's to a shitty diner in Chicago three hours from here, then I will go with you."

He hopes Billy catches onto the real meaning of his words despite their playfulness. Because it's true, Steve would follow him back to California as long as that's what he wanted. As long as Billy asked him.

But he hadn't. And there was only a week left before Billy went back to California.

By now Steve had resigned himself and accepted the truth. That this thing they were doing, this sort of relationship they had stumbled upon, was bound to end just as summer did. The only thing he wished for, the single thing he would ever ask of Billy, was to at least remember him.

“But for real, is there somewhere you want to go?” He asked, hoping to push the depressing thoughts of his love life to the back of his mind for now. If he wanted to have a crisis about how everyone he had ever loved always left him, he could do that once Billy left for UCLA.

“I know your music taste is all pop bullshit but you have heard of Summerfest, right?”

“The music festival in Milwaukee? It’s been advertised on the radio for a while now. Something about Bryan Adams being there, I think.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Did Billy sound nervous? Why? “You want to go?”

Steve blinked in confusion, sitting up a bit so he was straddling Billy’s lap and could face him. “I mean, it would be cool but the tickets sold out weeks ago.”

“Got in contact with some old friends from Cali. Managed to snatch a couple of tickets.” Billy shrugged, smirking up at Steve despite the slight hint of nervousness. “Wanna take that drive now, Princess?”

---

A day later they had everything ready.

The Camaro's trunk was packed with two duffel bags with enough spare clothes for a week, snacks, bottles of water, and a first aid kit Joyce had forced into their hands before leaving. Steve hoped they wouldn't need to use it, though.

It was Jonathan's gift that had made him tear up a little. He had fixed his old Polaroid camera and offered it to Steve with a decent amount of film already inside it. Something told him that it might've been Nancy's idea but either way he was glad.

He didn’t know he needed a physical way to remember this week but was glad to have it.

Billy doesn't comment on it once they are back in the car but he does raise his eyebrows in a silent question. Steve just shrugs, not feeling like untangling the complicated knot of emotions lodged somewhere inside his chest.

---

It's still light outside when they make their first stop.

There's no finesse in the way they scramble into the backseat of the Camaro, nothing delicate about the way Billy tugs him into his lap, just desire and barely contained desperation. Then they are kissing again, wet and messy and perfect.

They are parked in the middle of some woods somewhere on the way to Chicago. Steve's not sure exactly where anymore, having forgone the map maybe half an hour after they left Hawkins. It's not like it matters. It's not like anything matters other than the heat of Billy's skin on his. His kisses, the bruises he litters on pale skin, and the way he can't seem to stop touching Steve like he will disappear if Billy so much as blinks.

And Steve understands. He really does. Because once summer ends and Billy has to leave Hawkins for UCLA, there will be no more moments like these. No more nights of having the blond next to him in bed when he goes to sleep. No more shared meals on the couch while going through his parent's VHS collection.

There will be no more them.

So instead of focusing on the unbearable ache the thought alone creates in his chest, Steve chooses to focus his attention on pushing Billy down against the leather seat and moving back so he can work on getting those tight jeans low enough for him to bring Billy's cock to his lips.

"Fuck! Baby, that feels so-" Familiar fingers bury themselves into his hair, pulling on the strands and making him moan. He relaxes his jaw then, looking up at Billy who seems to have caught on to his intentions if the smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

"You want me to fuck your mouth, baby? Make you choke on my cock?"

"Pwhease." Talking with his mouth as full as it is isn't easy but he's rewarded by the look on Billy's face. His eyes darken, his lips part and the grip on Steve's hair tightens. It’s enough to send heat pooling low in Steve’s abdomen, a muffled whine escaping his lips.

Billy starts up with slow, barely contained thrusts, his eyes never straying away from the sight between his legs. He knows how much Steve likes

Considering how keyed up they already were, it’s no surprise when Billy only lasts a few minutes before he's coming hot and heavy down Steve’s throat. He swallows everything, choking a little on the cock still inside his mouth. He only pulls away when the grip on his hair finally grows lax.

Steve barely gets enough time to catch his breath before Billy is surging up and dragging him into a messy kiss, licking into his mouth and chasing the taste of himself on those lips. It should be gross. Hell, it is gross. But somehow it's also one of the hottest things Steve's ever experienced and he can't help but moan into the kiss.

His breath hitches turning into a whine when he feels Billy's spit-slick hand inside his briefs, wrapping around his cock. He's already so sensitive that there's not a single ounce of shame in him as he ruts into the touch, needy sounds falling like raindrops from parted lips.

"Billy, Billy, please- Fuck, I want-"

"Jesus, you look so pretty like this. So needy. Gonna come for me already, baby?"

“Uh-huh”

“Ask me pretty, baby, c’mon.”

"Let me come, please Billy." Steve whimpers softly, arms coming up to wrap themselves around tanned shoulders. He's shaking from the pleasure, muscles tense and every nerve alight. So damn close, already.

It's then that Billy starts to jack him off in earnest, thumb pressing against that sensitive spot just under the head with each upward stroke, his mouth otherwise occupied with suckling at the freckles that litter the skin of Steve’s neck and shoulder.

“Billy I-” Steve’s eyes roll back and his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip in a futile attempt to muffle the loud moan that slips out from his chest. It’s only when he bats Billy’s hand away from his cock that he finally starts to feel like he can catch his breath again.

#WIPs #roadtrip au #stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #lemons #??? #is that how we're tagging these now??