#I thought she die in season 5

[mctna2019]

Tommy: she's not gonna coming back so it's just you and me. she would be with us, in our heart. because we love her...

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #grace shelby #tommy × grace #cillian murphy #annabelle wallis #the way tommy just talk about her death with charlie breaks my heart #he's so alone #I thought she die in season 5 #not in season 3 #it's so unexpected for me

[regularshcw]

margaret is the bestest girl i take no constructive criticism

#🗑️ ooc // trash boat #seriously tho. why does the fandom act like maggie is toxic when cj literally tried forcing mordecai to be with her :/ #literally only was friends w him bc she thought she could change his mind she literally said it in her introductory ep #yeah the christmas party kiss was fucked but tbh i think it just shows mordecai wanted to b with margaret still but was only w cj bc he- #-thought mar was gone forever #they shouldve had a long distance relationship when she went to college i'll say that until the day i die #but this show doesnt acknowledge long dist outside of the pam and benson breakup #but thats a whole other can of worms #but anyways thats whats canon on this blog -- margaret and mordecai were long distance and wrote and called all the time #thats it bc it was /that simple/ #the show just wanted the a.dven.ture ti.me love triangle but the writers couldnt pull it off the same way #they just ruined margaret AND mordecais characters :/ #and all of seasons 5 and 6

[spencereidluver]

D is for Diana

summary: you overhear spencer calling his mother and telling her about you. how hes finally found someone like him and who can understand him

word count: 675

warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing

It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.

“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 

“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.

You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”

That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 

Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.

_____

With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.

As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.

“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”

There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.

Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”

Work? The girl he liked was at work? 

“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”

Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 

You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.

You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 

You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.

next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?

a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them, and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definantly my favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

[simplylupin]

Vertigo and Eddie Diaz

because the connection has been made between eddie's current arc and hitchcock's vertigo, i thought i'd give my two cents on the topic as a mediocre film student whose had to study vertigo for two years of her life

so here's a basic (very over-simplified) summary of vertigo for those who are unfamiliar

The protagonist, Scottie, is a policeman who took a break/was discharged/retired because he couldn't save a fellow police officer from falling off a building to his death

Because of this he suffers from vertigo and/or fear of heights

He's hired by his old friend Gavin to follow Gavin's wife, Madeline, for fear that she's been possessed by someone called Carlotta Valdez

He does so, and slowly falls in love with Madeline - and her him

We also learn that Scottie's best friend Midge is in love with him, but he's too obsessed with Madeline to notice Midge

Him and Madeline go to a church bell tower where Madeline seemingly offs herself by jumping off

Some time later, Scottie goes to Madeline's old hotel room, and finds a woman called Judy who looks exactly like Madeline

She agrees to go on a date with him

We, the audience, find out that Judy actually is Madeline (and vise versa). She was hired by Gavin to pretend to be Madeline.

Scottie grows more and more obsessed, forcing Judy to change her appearance to look like Madeline

He makes the connection that Madeline and Judy are the same person, and drives her to the bell tower

He forces her up the tower, over coming his fear of heights

Once at the top, they have a confrontation

A nun appears, scaring Judy and she once more falls to her death (really this time)

So, from what I've gathered, the loose connection between characters is:

Scottie = Eddie

Madeline = Shannon

Midge = Buck

Judy = Kim

The Nun = Marisol

Scottie's unable to save his fellow police officer. Eddie was unable to 'save' the people he pulled out the helicopter: "I pulled them out. But I didn't save them." Because of this he suffers from immense guilt and PTSD (as seen in his season 5 arc). He's unable to move on and this hinders him to a certain extent - just like Scottie.

After Shannon's death, he's thrown through the loop again, with the added bonus of him not having been able to save her too. Scottie's job was to save Madeline, and he failed at that, resulting in her 'death'.

Eddie is constantly trying to find a woman to fill that role of Shannon in his and Christopher's life; we see this with both Ana and now Marisol. He's looking for her in them. Scottie does the same - he visits the places he went with Madeline, he goes to her old room.

Eddie finds Kim, Scottie finds Judy.

For a little while, Judy helps Scottie get over and get closure on Madeline. She fills that empty space and allows him to move on. This is what I think Kim is going to do for Eddie.

She looks so much like Shannon but she simply isn't her. We know in later episodes that Buck is going to meet her and proclaim that she's "nothing like Shannon." There's a clear distinction there - Eddie is only seeing Shannon in her because he wants to, because he's still holding onto that idea. I think Kim is going to be the closing point of this ongoing search for Shannon's 'replacement'; someone who looks exactly like Shannon should be perfect, right? But when she too doesn't 'fill' that role that surely must spark some sort of realisation in Eddie, because if not her then who.

For Scottie, he feels betrayed by Judy. He brings her to the last place he saw Madeline, and ultimately, indirectly, causes her death. Obviously I don't believe Kim is actually going to die, but more the idea of her. She's the final chapter of him pursuing Shannon's ghost.

Midge is Scottie's best friend. They met in college and were engaged for a few weeks before breaking up. They spend a lot of time together, staying at each other's houses and going out. She helps Scottie through his vertigo and acrophobia, and tries to 'bring him back' in his grief. At one point, Midge paints her face onto a painting of Carlotta Valdez, showing that she's there and ready for Scottie's love, if he's willing to give it to her.

I believe, in this scenario, Buck takes on her role (for seemingly obvious reasons). Him and Eddie are best friends, they do so much together, he helps Eddie when he's struggling etc etc. Midge is the idea of the 'other woman', someone who is right in front of Scottie's eyes, someone whose always been there for him. However, Scottie is too obsessed and fixated on Madeline that he can't see this and continually brushes it away. You see where I'm going here...

Although Buck potentially doesn't even realize it himself, he has taken on Shannon's role in the Diaz family for years. Eddie already has the 'replacement' for Shannon that he's so desperately been searching for right in front of his eyes.

In Vertigo, Judy and Madeline are the same person, whereas Shannon and Kim are obviously not. However, the comparison still stands.

Scottie meets Judy and immedietely latches onto her because she looks so much like Madeline (duh) and he is so desperate for anything that'll keep Madeline's memory with him. He makes her undergo a series of phsyical changes (dyeing her hair, changing her wardrobe, her style etc etc) so that she appears more like Madeline - so he can get that closure and pretend.

Eddie clearly isn't going to do this to Kim. However, whatever way you spin it, he is projecting Shannon onto her. He saw her, and thought of Shannon, he pursued her because of that, he's doing all this because of Shannon. He is chasing that closure and that moment were he can be like 'Ah. I've finally found someone who can be Shannon for me and Chris.'

I doubt Kim is going to be around particularly long. As much as it sounds diminishing, she really is just a tool for Eddie to have this realization that nobody can replace Shannon, and that that's okay. He doesn't need to find Shannon 2.0.

Now, in Vertigo, when Scottie and Judy are arguing on the bell tower, a nun appears from the shadows and startles them - causing Judy to fall to her death. It's a very abrupt and out of nowhere.

The character of the nun, I think could represent either one of two things. Marisol, as we know, used to be a nun (i'm still not over this btw). That's a pretty straight-forward, clear cut comparison. The nun causes Judy to die, Marisol causes 'Shannon', and the idea of Shannon, to 'die'. This interpretation leans more heavily on Marisol and Eddie staying together, however, so I'm not sure.

The nun could also just represent religion as a whole, and Eddie's Catholic guilt particularly. Eddie tells Bobby that he only really married Shannon because he felt like he had to, he felt pressured into it because of his religious guilt. Despite this, "There was still a part of me that loved being married to her."

There's no doubt in my mind that Eddie loved Shannon. He did, they loved each other, and he still does love her - he always will. I do think that the choice of focussing on his marriage to her and how he "loved being married to her" is interesting though, he doesn't try to clarify that he was in love with her. This could just be because it's a given orrr

Whatever, not really the point.

The point is, the fact he's now "awakened" his Catholic guilt by finding out Marisol was a nun, must mean something for his upcoming arc. In Vertigo, the nun kills Judy. Here, his religious guilt 'kills' the idea of Shannon??

I'll definitely have more ideas about this later but this was my word vomit for now! Let me know what you think please.

(Also something I find funny is that the actress of Madeline/Judy is called Kim!)

#eddie diaz #shannon diaz #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 on abc #911 season 7 #911 season 7 episode 7 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie and marisol #eddie and buck #eddie and shannon #911 textpost #911 analysis

[thepunkmuppet]

the possible future of the hatchetfield series: hatchetfield halloween party livestream full rundown

again apologies if someone has already done something like this, but I’m procrastinating doing my coursework and just want to talk about hatchetfield I want everyone to be aware of this exciting stuff that was announced in the stream so here you go:

the next starkid musical to be released will not be in the hatchetfield universe.

the guy who didn’t like musicals will soon be ready to license.

nightmare time 3 was originally planned to be released in the same year as nightmare time 2 and will wrap up the overarching nightmare time stories (which seem to be miss holloway and the foster sisters respectively).

if they did a fourth hatchetfield musical, it would be about miss holloway and her backstory. it is already written. I am very very extremely normal about this fact 😃

there is a possibility of a hatchetfield movie, and workin’ boys was sort of a test for this concept. it would be a slasher murder mystery centering around the hatchetfield community players (zoey chambers and the cast of workin’ girls, possibly also with ruth, hidgens, alice and any other theatre-oriented characters but that part’s just my speculation). the transcription of the teaser description can be found below the nmt descriptions.

ok so here are the transcriptions of the nmt3 episode descriptions:

Story #1: Bottle Imps

Bill Woodward has been chosen to test CCRP’s latest and greatest product; Bottle Imps. These reality-bending buddies will bring their owner the one thing they desire most. When his new imp, Lovely, leads him to his soulmate, Bill decides to use his magical companion to play matchmaker. But to help Charlotte find the man of her dreams, Bill will have to bend the Imp’s rules. Rules he’s been warned, must never be broken…

Story #2: Frankenruth

Desperate to see a naked body, Ruth Fleming and Richie Lipschitz volunteer at the morgue of St. Damien’s Hospital. Their terrible plan becomes exponentially more terrible, when they become unwitting subjects in the experiments of the body-snatching madman, Doctor Laszlo, who claims to have conquered death itself. If Hatchetfield thought Ruth was bad before, then they will cower before the unspeakable horror of… Frankenruth!

Story #3: Becky Barnes Climbed a Tree

Becky Barnes is on top of the world! Not in a literal sense, of course. She’s deathly afraid of heights. After years of struggle, Becky’s life is finally everything she dreamed it would be. She’s engaged to her high school sweetheart, Tom Houston, and the two have a surprise baby on the way! But, as the couple prepare for the arrival of baby Marie, a shadow from Becky’s past returns to haunt them.

Story #4: Devil’s Night

Tim Houston has a crush. Unfortunately, it’s on his older, mature and totally cool babysitter, Grace Chasity, who he fears will never see him as anything but a snot-nosed little kid. But when a devilish maniac with murderous designs on Grace attacks Hatchetfield the night before Halloween, Tim must protect his beloved, or join the killer’s growing body count. It’s another slashing adventure on the night HE came home… Devil’s Night.

Story #5: (long special episode) Miss Holloween

It’s Halloween in Hatchetfield once again, and Miss Holloway is celebrating the same way she’s done for decades, staving off the horrors that go bump in the night. But when Duke gives her an invitation to his wedding, the dejected Miss Holloway begins to chafe under the terms of a contract forged many years ago. She strikes a new bargain, but unfortunately her creditors are known for their tricks, not treats. Just as Miss Holloway gives up her powers in exchange for a mortal life, a monstrous new threat rears its ugly head. As All Hallows Eve descends, and all Hell breaks loose, Miss Holloway must save the town or die trying… for real this time.

Story #6: (long special episode / season finale) Orb Weaver

Lex Foster had a life once. A home. A boyfriend. Now there is only the road, and her sister, and the fear of the men who are hunting them. As Hannah Foster watched Lex sink deeper into despair, she is certain of only three things: Webby is gone. She cannot help them. They are alone. Elsewhere, an old soldier awakens from a catatonic state. Returned from some unimaginable Hell with a mission. He knows that somewhere, two magical girls require immediate evac… then maybe some coffee.

very important: if you want nightmare time 3, WATCH NIGHTMARE TIME 2. BUY A TICKET TO THE LIVESTREAM. SHOW THAT THERE IS LOVE AND DEMAND AND IT’S WORTH THEIR TIME AND MONEY I AM BEGGING YOU

hatchetfield movie: Cast Party Massacre

The Hatchetfield Community Players. You will never find a cattier troupe of two-faced thespians. But when the blood begins to flow at their latest show’s cast party, they must consider: is there a secret murderer in their midst? And more importantly, who amongst them is a good enough actor to pull off such a performance? Can they set aside their petty squabbles and tangled romances, or is it curtains for this ensemble? Who will survive… the Cast Party Massacre!

#doing the lord (wiggly’s) work 🫡 #I hope this isn’t dodgy in any way in terms of the livestream being pay-to-see #but I just wanted people to know and be able to talk about it #hatchetfield halloween party #workin boys #workin boys spoilers #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #hatchetfield universe #the guy who didn’t like musicals #tgwdlm #black friday musical #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #nightmare time #nmt #nightmare time 3 #nmt3 #lex foster #hannah foster #miss holloway #douglas keane #duke keane #holloduke #general john macnamara #zoey chambers #ruth fleming #richie lipschitz #bill woodward #charlotte sweetly

[cartierre]

SINCE WAY BACK | ln4

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norris x fem!black!producer!reader (fc: alexis carrington)

side note: drake is aged up in this because i want y/n to be born around 2000/2001 but that would mean drake was 14/15 when he became a dad... so he's just a few years older here to make it more believable okay? great. side note pt2: there are so many long twitter threads used to explain the whole backstory. like, really really long. i didn't know how else to explain everything, i'm sorry.

♡ liked by champagnepapi, mclaren, octobersveryown and 829,938 others

tagged: mclaren, octobersveryown

f1 BREAKING: October's Very Own (OVO) joins the McLaren team as their new primary sponsor for the 2023 season.

#F1 #Formula1 #McLaren

view all 5,328 comments

user1 what the fuck is drake doing here

user2 i'm actually so gagged like what is happening why is drake invested in f1 all of a sudden

user3 this is such an odd pairing? drake and zak brown together feels like a fever dream

user4 drake joining f1 as a sponsor was definitely not on my 2023 bingo card

user5 caitlyn jenner buying a whole w series team is less surprising than whatever this is

♡ liked by yourusername, champagnepapi, danielricciardo and 187,385 others

lando.jpg adonis is teaching me how to play basketball because otherwise he "cannot accept me" i've been humbled by a 5 year old

view all 483 comments

user6 is that the girl he might or might not be dating ⤷ user7 i need to know otherwise i might die (i won't but the suspense is killing me)

user8 WHO IS THAT GIRL LANDO

user9 is this you trying to soft launch or is she just a platonic friend?

user10 "fans" going insane because they can't handle the thought of lando having female friends as well

user11 he's not even tagging anyone omg now i have to scroll through all the people he follows. lando is not making my job easy

(private account)

♡ liked by centralcee, jorjasmith_, landonorris and 637 others

y/n_graham why am i trending on twitter and why is everyone uncovering my childhood

view all 45 comments

landonorris i think this is my fault ⤷ y/n_graham you and your jpg ⤷ landonorris my camera lense is just so mesmerised by your beauty ⤷ y/n_graham your compliments won't get you out of trouble

centralcee i'm literally getting dms asking about you ⤷ y/n_graham i woke up to 15,000 people trying to follow me

jorjasmith_ lando's fans are literally fbi agents ⤷ y/n_graham i'm making so many backup files of my music projects because i'm scared someone will hack into my laptop now

♡ liked by 238,273 others

f1wags Y/N Graham, daughter of Canadian rapper Drake, was photographed by a fan outside the venue in Greece where Lando Norris, her rumoured boyfriend, was playing this weekend. None of the two have confirmed nor deniend the relationship allegations that have been going around for a few months now. An inside source, which attended the party, revealed how the two behaved very intimate with each other.

view all 5,394 comments

user12 girl it's been nearly four months since the rumours started... can one of them just please either confirm or deny them?

user13 at this point i'm just over the whole drama. let them have their privacy i guess

user14 this drama is juicier than when the whole oscar-alpine-mclaren fiasco happened

user15 i'm this close to ripping my hair out why is this rumour been going on for AGES i just want a simple statement already

♡ liked by y/n_graham, champagnepapi, danielricciardo and 374,947 others

tagged: y/n_graham, champagnepapi

lando.jpg bonding family time, got to support the father in law ;)

view all 9,294 comments

user16 EXCUSE ME WDYM FATHER IN LAW? is this a joke or real ⤷ y/n_graham we're not married, don't worry ⤷ user17 OMG Y/N MADE HER ACCOUNT PUBLIC JUST NOW

champagnepapi i like the sound of "father in law" ⤷ lando.jpeg i know you would ⤷ y/n_graham no no no

user18 okay from what i've gathered drake and lando are on good terms ⤷ user19 bet that's why drake sponsored mclaren lmao ⤷ y/n_graham no but deadass

user20 y/n fighting for her life in the comments lmaoooo ⤷ y/n_graham in the trenches

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction

[mo-aiki]

Duke Augustus Swanson of the North

Summary: Your fiance and how he had reacted to your sudden change in behavior. As he looks back on the past, he wonders how long has he seen your smiling face with content and affection.

Warning: obessive behavior, mentions of violence, obvious implications of bullyin, I don't condone it, I just write it

A/N: ART NOT MINE, IT'S THE MALE LEAD OF THE MANHWA SECRET LADY

Connected to Yandere Isekai M. Characters x F. Reader

For as long as he could remember, Augustus never liked you.

Not a single bit.

The daughter of a count and a generational promise between his grandfather and yours that didn't suffice. His parents were both dead from a carriage accident, and as such, his grandfather took him in and forced him into this marriage. The first time he had met you, he was enchanted by your looks (even if both of you were 8 years old). Your (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes enchanted him, but it soon all came crashing down onto him once your parents left the room, and your true personality was revealed. Even at a young age, he was already being tugged on by young ladies and their families wanting to up their status or rank in noble society, no matter the age. And you were no different in your affections.

Seducing him with sweets.

Yelling at ladies in your way.

"Accidentally" spilling a dark grape juice on a lady's ballgown because he had conversed with her for an hour and found her remotely interesting to talk to.

Trying to talk to him about anything.

Being near him and showing public displays of affection.

Clinging onto a promise, he vowed to break.

He was bored of someone like you. You who were no different than the other ladies who had tried to seduce him. Your mannerisms, your personality, and your ideas, they were all the same to him.

No matter how many times you'd court him, even if it took 5 years to reach, he felt absolutely nothing.

His heart didn't pang, his cheeks and ears didn't flush, his breathing was perfectly normal, and the words out of his mouth cut through like usual.

Nothing would change in your relationship with him. He had planned to break it off and just die alone with no heir or find someone he had mutual interest in.

Nothing will change and he was certain nothing will ever change between the 2 of you.

Until the day you had contracted a deathly high fever.

Augustus was surprised to hear about you 3 days after getting the envelope from your family. He had thought it was you, sending it like you were your father. But his butler forced him to open it.

Dear Young Master Augustus,

I am here to inform you of the cancelation of next Thursday's meeting with my daughter. You see, my daughter has contracted a high fever due to the flu season being prevalent. She is unable to attend the meeting and I would like it if you visit her in order to wish her as speedy recovery. I know that is rather a selfish thing to ask for, but my daughter has been requesting your presence ever since she contracted it. I would like to ask you to please see my daughter and wish for her speedy recovery.

Sincerely,

Count (l/n).

He thought, why not visit. To see you die and his engagement to be break off, would be a euphoric day for him.

He visited you, and was by your side in your room. Pink, frilly and full of girly stuff. He disliked it, but somehow found it cute. You in your lace nightgown, and your face all red but with a cold towel on your head. He had received the news that your fever had been so high, that you had been in a coma now.

He left, because he had nothing else to do there. 'I hope she dies so I can get out of this wretched engagement...' he thought with the coldest stare imaginable.

Your behavior has changed after that fever.

Augustus was not the first one to notice such a change in behavior. Your once smug and arrogant expression, was replaced with a confused and softer one.

It was more bearable.

Everything about you became toned down. Spending time together was less of a pain in the neck, and over time, he started caring about you, little by little.

He started noticing your favorite things, like, for example, your favorite desserts, flowers, places to converse, color, toys, and even down to the accessories you liked to adorn yourself with.

Your cute mannerisms and habits that he can't help but lightly tease at. "Why do you do such things..?" He said, a bit too loud.

"Do what?" You asked, confused.

He wiped away a spot of whipped cream on your cheek and licked it. Watching your face blush in embarrassment was sure worth the move he pulled. Even if he was 13 at the time.

As both of you grew up, he'd soon see how people reacted around you. He sure saw the difference. You turned more beautiful as you matured in age. Your personality grew, and your smile was more bright. He wanted to be the only one to notice these changes and monopolize it for himself, but everyone else around you could now see it. First, your childhood friend. The son of a low ranking Earl. He thought of nothing with him, but he did annoy him. His consistent pestering and hopeless looks made you always include him in your dates.

He absolutely took in the fact that the boy always looked at him with disdain and envy. And he did as well. His close bond with you, and how close he could get to you without you making a fuss, fumed him.

But once you got older, everyone, and he felt everyone started to take notice of you. Men staring at your maturing body with eyes full of lust, women staring with jealousy, children taking notice of your pretty face, and the consistent flirting from everyone, and he felt like everyone.

Men bumping into you, "supposedly on accident," and striking up a conversation, you looked bored in. Women stealing your attention with the gossip of the nobility and even flirting themselves. Children always begging and crying for attention if you did not provide enough for them. He was sick of it.

The son of a small count was always consistently flirting with you. Asking about your day, favorite color, favorite jewels, hobbies, it was almost as if he had forgotten you had a fiance right next to you.

He couldn't help but say a couple of threats towards him, and when that didn't work, he planned for his carriage to be ran into, paying the driver to run away to another country with 10,000 gold paid for him.

But he wasn't the only one. Many men of lowly rank kept on coming, and he threatened them. If that didn't work, they mysteriously died in the next few days. All evidence of the perpetrator, erased from sight.

He could get rid of all of his enemies, but 2. Her childhood best friend and the war hero turned personal guard.

The son of an Earl was sneaky, cunning, and someone whose death would greatly affect her. She would be broken before he ever got the chance to be with her. And the personal guard. A war hero. Someone who is well versed in strength and is not shaken by mere threats he could ever make.

Nothing ever seemed to work to get rid of them, other than the fact that he was your fiancé. So all he needed to do was shower you with love (which he already did and is currently doing). He gives you gifts of jewels, books and stuff for your hobbies, he always has his hand around your waist when out and about. He is always watching what you do. He listen in on your conversations, whether they be rants, boring or awkward small talk. And most of all, he is always here when he can be.

But he was surprised when you all of the sudden brought up annulment.

You had wanted to annul your engagement with him.

He spent all night after such a ground-breaking announcement, awake and thinking of all the possibilities of why you would ever want to break off your engagement with him. All he could think of were the 2 men who were close to you.

"It's all their faults...I need to marry her soon..." he mumbled as he got up and got a paper, pen and his favorite quill.

A/N: Should I do the other guys? This is connected to my previous post so I hoped you enjoyed it. Sorry it took so long to post another story.

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere duke x reader #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere duke #yandere x you

[emjayewrites]

Fuck A Title (Lewis Hamilton x Black!Fem Reader) (1/5)

SYNOPSIS: Lewis and his former FWB try to navigate the murky waters of being official.

PAIRINGS: Lewis Hamilton x black!fem reader

WARNINGS: cursing, sexual content, angst, racing vroom vroom stuff. RATED R (minors DNI/18+)

SONG REFERENCE: "Title" by Kiana Lede

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @omgsuperstarg @certifiedlesbianbaddie @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @motheroffae @hrlzy @sinflowersugar @hopefulromantic1 @vile-harlot @xoscar03 @blveeeeee @everywherea11thetime @blckgrl-sunflower @whoreforjjk @blowmymbackout

A/N: Not back fr, but had this in my drafts for a minute, so..... [Please comment & reblog]

You sucked in a sharp breath as Lewis pulled you flush against his rock-hard body, his intoxicating male musk enveloping her. "Damn, Lew..." you husked out as his full lips trailed searing kisses along your neck.

Lewis rumbled a low chuckle against you skin, the gravelly timbre shooting tingles along her spine. "You know you want to stay." His mouth found yours, kissing you with a slow, hungry intensity.

"I can’t," you mutter as you arched shamelessly against the solid wall of muscle, whimpering into the heated kiss. These intimate nights used to be your steamy little secret - just two badass workaholics blowing off steam as commitment-free FWBs whenever you craved each other's bodies.

"I'll have your breakfast waiting in the morning, baby girl," Lewis purred in that panty-melting accent, charming and rugged all at once. "Let me take care of you like you deserve."

Your thoughts went to last season; it was stress-free, almost reminiscent of an endless vacation with you being flown out to see Lewis at some of his races — Monaco, Japan, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi, to name a few. There was also that two-week getaway to Turkey during summer break with his close guy friends.

But nothing could ever prepare you for how quickly things changed between you and Lewis. Just a few weeks ago, he wanted to make things official.

You blame that Brazilian girl. Jackie, Josie, Julia-something-or-the-other. Lewis's other sidepiece. The one who didn't know how to be discreet.

She's been kicking it with Lewis and his inner circle since 2019, and their off-and-on cycle can put anyone's head in a tailspin.

But, it wasn't your problem to deal with.

As messed up and unusual as it may sound, you knew what you had with Lewis. The conversations were always on par, the sex was bomb, and his friends were nice.

It wasn't until JuJu leaked his whereabouts to a tabloid journalist during his winter getaway to Brazil that Lewis finally put the nail in the coffin for whatever situation they had, and in return, it was you whom he had invited to join him in Paris, testing in Bahrain, and even a race in Saudi Arabia. It was you who he eventually grew close with, closer than what you envisioned, causing him to have an epiphany or midlife crisis moment, but he wanted you for some reason.

You and only you.

Against your shot-caller instincts, you had agreed to try monogamy with your long-time friends-with-benefits partner, yet could you really live up to the ride-or-die girlfriend role?

In the racing world, Lewis was F1 royalty - the kind of megastar talent that sparked a panty parade from groupies with each arrival. At thirty-nine years old, the British race monster had already stacked up multiple championship wins, the insane looks of a cologne model, and a net worth balling enough to buy a private island.

Cradled against his frame, you almost forgot your doubts about your newly-minted relationship status.

Almost.

Lewis was a whole meal with his tattooed body: wide shoulders, chiseled chest and biceps, and a tempting vee that disappeared beneath his form-fitting Tommy Hilfiger briefs. It almost felt criminal for one man to be so incredibly attractive.

"You're doing it again," that baritone washed over you as Lewis smirked knowingly. "Getting thirsty for me. This is why you need to stay." He flexed his pecs in a ludicrous muscle-man pose, making you throw back your head and laugh.

"Bye, Lewis," you shot back, eyes sparkling with mirth as you ran an admiring hand along his sculpted torso. "My mind was on work."

The lie was smooth, but he knew better.

"You think about work more than I do," Lewis chuckled richly, catching your roaming hand to tug you close once more. His skin glowed temptingly in the dim light, and you felt your resistance swiftly melting as his lips crashed into yours again. He tasted like your ultimate indulgence. But soon, much too soon, Lewis drew back with obvious reluctance. "Best not keep tempting me, baby girl. Let me walk you to your car like a good boyfriend."

And there it was - that word reminding you of your new reality. Boyfriend.

Swallowing hard, you began gathering your scattered clothes. "I should really go," she said, aiming for a breezy tone that fell flat even to your own ears. "But raincheck on the morning cuddles and all that, yeah? I've got an early call time."

Lewis watched you with that panty-dropping stare, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "Will you call me when you get to work at least?"

"Of course," you replied, sliding into your dress and avoiding his intense gaze. "I'll see you later," you said with a forced smile before turning and making your way out of the bedroom.

Like a dog to a bone, Lewis followed closely behind in nothing but his briefs and that all-too-obvious aroused bulge that he proudly sported. Bending over to put on your heels, you flinched slightly at the unexpected touch from behind.

His hands flattened against your spine, trailing downwards until it reached your hips before settling on your ass.

With a sharp intake of breath, you turned around to face him, eyes wide with shock and arousal as his fingers squeezed the plump flesh of your backside. "You can’t just grab me like that," you protested weakly, even as your body leaned into his touch.

A devilish grin crossed Lewis’ face. "But you like it," he murmured huskily, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. "You sure I can't convince you to stay?"

"Nope."

Lewis pouted playfully, his hands still lingering on your hips as he leaned in for one last kiss. "Fine," he sighed dramatically, before pressing his lips to your forehead and releasing you with a parting slap on your ass. "I'll see you later, then."

You grinned up at him as you straightened your dress and made your way towards the front door. "Bye, Lewis," you called over your shoulder.

As soon as you stepped outside into the cool London air, reality hit hard. Your mind was a cyclone of emotions.

Why were you still craving the easy detachment of your previous arrangement? Surely you were just going through an adjustment period of cold feet. A big part of you felt skittish about going from independent and free to somebody's boo'd up ball-and-chain, especially with someone who equally enjoyed working as you did. Though you weren’t on Lewis' level of fame, you still had clout as a fashion stylist and worked with prominent magazines, such as Vogue and Vanity Fair. You faced plenty of trials and trepidations in your life, yet navigating this new realm of commitment would be your ultimate challenge.

The drive to your hotel was quiet, with your mind filled with thoughts of Lewis and the budding relationship between the two of you. Shaking off those thoughts for now, you focused on reaching the hotel safely and getting some rest before another long day on set tomorrow.

The next morning came far too soon for your liking. Despite having only slept for a few hours due to work calls and texts from Lewis throughout the night (something he did often but never seemed to tire), you dragged yourself out of bed when your alarm blared loudly.

After a quick shower and a strong cup of coffee, you were dressed and ready to head to the set for another long day of styling. As you arrived at the location, you were greeted by familiar faces - the models, photographers, and other crew members whom you had worked with countless times before in the last couple of months. You were currently on a six-month contract for Schön! and even though there was some shoots that required long work days, you appreciated the flexibility of the work.

Everyone was scurrying around, setting up equipment and making last minute adjustments before the shoot began. You made your way over to the fashion rack where designer clothing was carefully organized and ready to be styled on the models.

"Morning, Y/N!" A voice called out from across the room.

You turned to see one of your bosses, Tara, walking towards you with a smile on her face.

"Hey, Tara," you replied. "How's it going?"

"It's going good," she said, glancing around at the busy set. "Looks like another long day ahead of us."

You both chuckled, knowing that long days were just part of the job.

"So, what are we working with today?" Tara asked curiously as she looked over at the fashion rack.

"A mix of high-end brands and some vintage pieces," you replied, pulling out a beautiful Dior dress from its garment bag. "I'm excited to see how this looks on one of our models."

Tara nodded in agreement before getting pulled away by one of the photographers who needed her assistance. You went back to organizing and styling the clothes for each look on your mood board.

As the day went on, you couldn't help but feel a little distracted by the constant buzzing of your phone. Every few minutes, another text from Lewis would come through, each one more persistent than the last.

"Come with me to Australia," one read. "I'll book your flights."

"Wasn't it your fantasy to be bent over the railing of a hotel overlooking Hobsons Bay?" another said.

You sighed as you set your phone down on the table next to you, trying to focus on the task at hand. The shoot was going smoothly but with every text from Lewis, it became harder and harder to concentrate.

One thing was for sure: this nigga was extremely persistent.

You couldn't deny that a trip to Australia sounded tempting - it had been on your bucket list for years now. But at the same time, it wasn't practical for you to just drop everything and go away for an undetermined amount of time.

Or could you? an intrusive thought bubbled in your head. The hoe side of yourself was speaking, coming out from the depths of her hoeness cave. It often appeared whenever Lewis was involved, and let's be honest, it was probably the reason why you found yourself in this weird ass situation in the first place.

Think about that tongue of his, girl! ‘Member how he had you walking funny for three days straight after finishing in eighth place?!

You couldn't forget it, as it would always be ingrained in the fiber of your very being. You enjoyed seeing Lewis angry, especially when there was a mistake during race weekend. Not that you blamed him for losing, as the car wasn't up to par, but he had a unique way of channeling his anger through sexual pleasure.

A familiar shiver ran down your spine as you hit send on a three-letter response to him.

Well, there goes the idea of keeping my distance and any modicum of self-respect.

Bitch, you know you can't resist that dick, quipped your inner hoe.

And as usual, she was correct.

The hotel didn't have a direct view of Hobsons Bay, but the Yarra River and Botanical Gardens could still be seen from the balcony. It was nighttime, and as Lewis moved in a steady rhythm, your vision may not have been top-notch, but the sparkling city lights served as a focal point amidst the familiar feeling building up in your pelvic region, signaling an imminent orgasm.

You couldn't help but moan loudly as Lewis hit that spot inside of you that always made you lose control. He had you bent over the railing, one hand gripping your hip while the other played with your aching nodule. Each thrust sent bolts of pleasure shooting through your body.

"Fuck," he grunted in your ear. "You feel so good."

You couldn't respond, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. As his pace quickened, your moans grew louder and more desperate. The height from the penthouse's balcony was both terrifying and exhilarating, deafening in its intensity. It was a common choice for him whenever he visited Australia, as if being that high up meant less chance of encountering any spiders.

Just as you were about to reach your climax, Lewis stopped to bend down to bury his face in your core, working that sinful mouth of his. Your legs began to tremble as two of his fingers pushed inside you, matching the movements of his tongue.

He had always been a master at eating pussy, and it didn't take long for you to reach your climax. You cried out his name as waves of ecstasy washed over you, leaving you breathless and satisfied. Lewis stood up, a smug grin on his face as he saw the effect he had on you. He turned you around to kiss you deeply, tasting your own essence on his lips.

"You're still the best I've ever had," he whispered against your lips.

After catching your breath, you put a smirk on your face. "That's because I am the best," you teased.

"You’re right 'bout that," he concurred, leading you to the patio couch.

He sat next to you, his hands running up your sides and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his hands on your body.

"You always know how to make me feel good," you murmured.

"I aim to please," he replied with a wicked grin, before leaning in to kiss you again.

Without breaking the kiss, Lewis maneuvered you so you were now straddling his lap. His lips moved down your neck, causing shivers to run down your spine. Your hands roamed his muscular back, feeling every ridge and dip of his body.

His hands traveled to your hips, guiding them as you began to grind against him. The friction between your bodies was building a delicious heat, making it hard for you both to control yourselves.

"God, I need you," he growled against your skin.

You moaned in response, eagerly meeting his lips again. Lewis thrust upwards, filling you to the hilt and causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leaned back slightly and rocked your hips faster against his. The pressure was building between the two of you and it was becoming harder to keep quiet. Your nails raked across his skin and he hissed in pain.

"Mmm...easy there, baby girl," he rumbled out a low warning, giving your earlobe a gentle nip of reproach. "Can't have you mauling me before the big race this weekend. Need to look pretty for my adoring fans."

You scoffed and ground harder against him in sweet retaliation, making him curse roughly. "Please, I'll mark you up anyway I want," you husked.

Lewis chuckled and tightened his grip on your waist, holding you still as he thrust up into you with more force. Your head fell back in pleasure, a loud moan escaping your lips.

"Jesus Christ," he groaned, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chased his own release. He reached between your bodies to stimulate your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, along with your moans and Lewis' low curses.

"That’s my girl takin' this dick so well," he croons softly. "You’re so fuckin' wet, baby. You like this dick, huh? This yours?"

Lewis' words only spurred you on, as you continued to ride him with reckless abandon. The pleasure was building inside of you, threatening to consume you completely.

"You know it's mine," you gasped out, your nails digging into his shoulders. "No one else's."

"Damn right," Lewis growled, his own release approaching fast. He gripped your hips tighter and slammed into you one last time, pushing you both over the edge.

Your walls clenched around him like a vice as you came undone, screaming his name as he followed suit shortly after.

Panting and sweating, the two of you collapsed onto the couch in a tangled heap. Lewis held you close, kissing your forehead gently.

"You're amazing," Lewis murmured, voice rough with satiated desire. His arms tightened around you, pulling your flushed body flush against his sweat-sheened skin.

You hummed out a breathless laugh, nuzzling your face against the solid warmth of his chest. "So are you."

For a long while, the two of you simply held each other close, basking in the post-coital glow. Lewis traced idle patterns across the exposed skin of your back, his touch reverent and tender.

Finally, with obvious reluctance, Lewis stirred beneath you.

"As much as I hate to move right now, we should probably get cleaned up."

The two of you stood up, still tangled in each other's embrace, and made your way to the bathroom. Lewis turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature before pulling you under the warm spray with him.

You leaned back against his chest, feeling content and blissful as he washed your body with slow, gentle movements. His hands lingered on your curves and crevices, eliciting soft moans from you.

"I could get used to this," Lewis murmured against your neck, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

You chuckled and turned around in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. "Me too."

And even though you are apprehensive, there is no denying that Lewis was still the best thing in your world, but it all can't be butterflies and rainbows...

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#emjayewrites #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #formula one!black reader #formula one x black reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction #f1 x reader

[sattlersquarry]

the great divide (steve harrington x fem!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4 AU, the sequel to orange juice) After your miraculous return to the land of the living, you aren't doing well.

Word Count: ~12k

Warnings: 18+ PLEASE!!!! for language, anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation. The reader has panic attacks and intrusive thoughts about Not Wanting To Be Alive. If that will be triggering for you please don't read this (read my happier bloom series instead). there's also an allusion to a relapse, slut-shaming, and allusions to sex (although there's no smut, it just gets slightly steamy). this fic is angst + hurt/comfort with an optimistic ending. inspired by noah kahan's music (including this amazing demo on instagram).

a/n: please let me know if i missed any warnings. please don't read this if you think it will be too triggering. the last thing i want is to make someone upset! but writing this was cathartic and helped me work through some things, i think. writing is magical!

🫀🫀🫀

THE GREAT DIVIDE

SOMETIME IN 1987

You aren’t sure how long it’s been since you last saw your friends. It feels like a fucking long time.

You woke up on the ground of the Upside Down, covered in dried blood and terrified at the sight of Vecna towering above you.

He brought you back to life. He wanted to send you back home and use you as a soldier and spy, the same thing he did to Will, Billy, Heather, and countless others.

“If you do this,” Vecna had growled, “You can once again see your family. Your friends. Your beloved Steven. Otherwise…you will die here.”

You refused, not interested in being his lackey. He tried to flay you anyway, but he was weak from the hell Nancy, Steve, and Robin rained down on him, allowing you to escape his clutches.

He stalked you for days, finally catching up to you—but you got the upper hand, using Eddie’s spear to stab him. Repeatedly.  

Killing Vecna caused the gates he opened to sew themselves back shut before you could get through. You were glad that your friends no longer had to worry about Vecna and his army of monsters pouring through the four gates, but it meant you were trapped on the wrong side of the universe.

Vecna gone meant the Upside Down could revert back to what it was before he arrived. Now, the sky of the Upside Down was a buttery yellow, and it was much warmer. You saw patches of green grass and flowers starting to grow in various spots around town. But it still felt like a nightmare.

You wander the Upside Down each day with a routine: avoid monsters, forage for food and clean water, and visit the gates to see if any of them reopened. Food and water aren’t as hard to find as you feared, since the world isn’t so much of a poison, desolate nightmare anymore. But the gates stay staunchly shut, much to your chagrin.

You miss your life. You miss Steve. You miss his laugh, his smile, his kisses, his touch. You would do ungodly things to see him again.

You hope he’s okay. Any time you want to give up, you remind yourself that if roles were reversed, Steve would keep fighting to come back to you no matter what.

And, to your pleasant surprise, he does just that.

🫀🫀🫀

AUGUST 1987

It’s been three months since you returned to the land of the living. You’re not taking it well.

Surviving the Upside Down meant constantly being in fight-or-flight, scrambling to find food and clean water while avoiding demo-creature attacks. Without Vecna’s evil influence, the animals weren’t so bloodthirsty—but they still needed to eat.

You were able to avoid them, surviving yourself off disgusting canned food from the Upside Down’s version of the Big Buy and whatever houses you ransacked. It wasn’t very appetizing. It made the meal you were serving up today seem like a 5-star, 5-course delight.

It was neither of those things. It was for a church potluck that your mother had a hand in throwing. Lots of casseroles and carbs. She dragged you along to volunteer in hopes to get you out of the house.

Ever since you left the hospital in May, you’d only ever left the house to go to doctor’s appointments, therapy appointments, and Steve’s place. Your parents wanted to encourage more of a well-rounded life and schedule, and although they’d never admit it, you figured they hoped you’d turn back to your normal self. To the person you were before it all happened.

You think she might have died.

As you plate some macaroni and cornbread for your next patron, you sense eyes on you. You glance over and see two women at a table a few feet away. To your chagrin, they’re gossiping about you.

“I mean, it’s appalling,” an old bat named Shirley hisses. “She claims to have lost her memory after the earthquake and gotten lost, but it’s obvious that she just ran away.”  

“Probably thought she was grown up, that she knew better than her parents,” Mildred says with a sniff, adjusting her too-big glasses.

“I can’t believe she left poor Steve Harrington high and dry,” Shirley adds.

Your heart clenches at the fact that these women see you as a villain, as an irresponsible idiot who up and left everyone who loved her out of spite. If they knew the truth…if they knew the nightmare you’d survived…

It only gets worse from there.

“You know what Cynthia told me?” Mildred says. “That her cousin’s roommate’s friend’s brother saw Y/N working a street corner in Manassas. It's just shameful.”

Anger burns through you, hot like hellfire. So, what? You’re not just a flake—you’re a slut to this people now, too? What happened to ‘loving thy neighbor’ and ‘forgiveness’ and all that shit?

“Can I get some more of that?” an elderly man says.

It snaps you back to your task at hand: dishing out food to hungry churchgoers.

“Ah, yeah,” you say. You dump macaroni on his Styrofoam plate. “Sorry. Here you go.”

The man smiles and ambles off. You take a deep breath and try your best to tune out the whispers of the chattering hens.

Your mother must notice the scowl on your face. She makes her way to you, practically floating, as graceful as ever. She’s totally in her element. She deserves a daughter who doesn’t clomp and stumble her way through life. Who doesn’t jump at every loud noise and sleep with a hunting knife under her pillow.

“Doing all right?” your mother asks you, giving you that sympathetic look that you think you might despise by now.

You muster up a smile of your own and nod.

Your mother can’t tell its fake and beams.

“See?” she says. “I knew getting you out of the house would turn that frown upside-down!”

She doesn’t know about the Upside Down. She thinks you got injured in the earthquake, stumbled through the Indiana woodlands, and got found by cops two states over. That you couldn’t remember where you came from due to amnesia, that since they pronounced you dead no one assumed you were the missing girl from Hawkins until your memories came back.

You let her comment slide and fake a smile, figuring it’s better to pretend you’re fine than feel it all.

🫀🫀🫀

That night, you chat with Steve on the phone. He’s gone back to college for the fall semester and you miss him terribly.

He promised he’d come back to Hawkins every other weekend. He knows how hard it’s been for you coming back. Or, he says he knows. Sometimes, you get the idea that he doesn’t really understand.

How could he? Every time he tries to get you to open up about what happened and what you went through, you shut down.

However, when he asks how your day was, you decide to be honest.

“It sucked,” you say. You blow out a huff of air. “These old crones were being total bitches at the church potluck. Apparently, the new conspiracy theory is that I was turning tricks in Virginia.”

“Ugh, I’m so sorry Y/N,” Steve says. For some reason, the sympathy in his voice makes you wince.

“But it’s fine,” you say quickly. “I don’t care what they say about me.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“It’s okay if you do, you know,” Steve says, speaking slowly and carefully as if he’s worried about setting you off. (For good reason; you’ve been prone to outbursts of anger lately.)

“I know!” you say, defensiveness seeping into your tone. “But I don’t give a shit. Really.”

“Good,” Steve says. But he sounds unconvinced. “You shouldn’t.”

Another pause. It lasts a little too long for your liking. You clear your throat.

“I should probably shower and head to bed,” you say. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve says. You don’t understand why he sounds almost intrigued by the prospect of your boring nighttime routine until he says, “A shower with you sounds like heaven right now…”

Shit. You’re really not in the mood for phone sex. Even if that’s not what Steve is angling for, just slightly flirty banter doesn’t sound fun to you either.

Steve has been a total gentleman ever since you got back. You’ve kissed a little, but anytime he tries to take it further, you stop him. As much as you longed for him in every sense while in the Upside Down, you don’t feel ready to re-engage in those kinds of activities—like you’ve been shot back to the insecure, unconfident person you were before you started dating Steve.

He respects those boundaries and never, ever presses for more. But you worry he’s getting bored and wants to get back into old habits, possibly evidenced by his shower comment.

You’re a coward. You don’t tell him outright that you’re not in the mood, afraid he’ll have an out-of-character reaction and chew you out for being a prude or a tease.

“Huh?” you say. Steve starts to repeat his salacious comment, but you interrupt with: “Bad…connection…can’t…better…”

You hang up the phone and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

🫀🫀🫀

OCTOBER 1987

It’s a Thursday in October, and you’re taking a trip for the first time in a long time.

“You have everything you need?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Toothbrush? Extra socks? Lambchop?”

You huff and roll your eyes, crossing your arms like a petulant teenager.

“Mom! I’m an adult. I do not need a stuffed animal.”

“But you packed her, right?”

You mumble out a “Yes” as she pulls up to the parking lot near Steve’s apartment building.

You applied for spring admission at the University of Indiana. Your lovely boyfriend invited you to stay with him for a few days so he could show you around campus for homecoming weekend.

Tonight is the unofficial campus tour with “Tour Guide Steve.” Tomorrow, you’ll help him and his friends put the finishing touches on a homecoming parade float, and Saturday is the big football game.

Before your disappearance and assumed death, your parents were insanely strict about you staying the night with Steve and wouldn’t have allowed it. Now, they’ve mellowed out—but you hate thinking it’s because of some kind of twisted pity.

Steve must have seen your mom’s minivan pull up from his apartment window, because he jogs over to you before you’ve even grabbed your bag from the trunk.

“Hey, babe!” he says with a beaming grin; the picture of exuberance. You can feel his excitement roll off him in waves. You feel like an asshole for matching his energy. Even though you’re excited for time with Steve, you have a pit in your stomach at the thought of being away from home for so many days.

Of course, if you get accepted to U of I, you’ll be away from home for weeks at a time. You try not to think about that.

Steve hugs you tightly, and you hope he can’t sense your apprehension.

He seems not too, still smiling as he gives your mom a quick hug and then offers to carry your duffel bag for you.

You give your mom a hug goodbye, promising to call if you want to get picked up early.

You and Steve wave as your mom drives away. After dropping your bag off at his apartment, Steve takes you on an abridged campus tour that ends at the dining hall. He wants to introduce you to his friends.

He has friends here. Of course he does, you’re glad he does. No one should feel like they don’t have friends, or like their girlfriend is their only friend. But what does it mean that your boyfriend is your only friend lately?

Nancy’s off at Emerson. As for the Hawkins crew, Jonathan’s busy with family stuff, helping Joyce and Hopper renovate their new house. Eddie’s preoccupied with his band, trying to get Corroded Coffin off the ground after a he-was-accused-of-murder hiatus. And Robin’s a student at Roane County Community College, spending her days with marching band and classes and clubs and work.

They’ve started inviting you to things, and sometimes you go. You usually don’t have much fun, distracted with your own anxieties and unable to think of anything interesting to say.

So, the fact that Steve seems to have moved on from everything so easily and has a pack of friends at college makes you feel pathetic, even though it shouldn’t.

At the dining hall, Steve introduces you to his buddies. When Steve lived on-campus last semester, Gus was his roommate. Now Steve’s moved into his own apartment off-campus, but the boys still hang out often and play together on a club basketball team.

Jessica is Gus’ girlfriend. She has a kind smile and compliments your sweater.

The last friend in their clique is Rochelle. She’s tall and slender, like a supermodel. Apparently, she and Jessica grew up together and are good friends.

Everyone greets you happily when Steve introduces you—except Rochelle, who looks you up and down like she’s inspecting you. It makes you uneasy.

You immediately start to dislike her more when she laughs loudly at Steve’s jokes and squeezes his shoulder flirtatiously.

“You are tew much, Harrington,” Rochelle says, flipping her shiny hair over her shoulder.

It makes you feel tense and jealous and angry and sick all at once.

You’re completely content to listen in silence while the others chat, but then Jessica asks where you go to school.

“Oh, um, here, in the spring,” you say. “Uh, hopefully.”

“That’s awesome!” Gus says. “You get the full Hoosiers homecoming experience a whole semester before having to pay tuition.”

You chuckle and smile. Any good feelings you have about this interaction come crashing down when Rochelle asks, “So, like, if you aren’t a student right now, what do you do?”

“She’s working at Sonic,” Steve says. “Saving up money. Right babe?”

You turn to him, face falling. You’re not working. You tried to apply for a job at Sonic and had a panic attack when you saw the gap in your resume from your 15 months in the Upside Down, so you roller-skated your way home to unemployment.

Did you not tell Steve that? You suppose you “forgot” to tell him about that panic episode.

“Uh, actually no,” you say, furrowing your brow. “Not anymore. I’m just taking a semester off.”

Surprise flashes behind Steve’s eyes, but he recovers quickly. He throws an arm around your shoulders and says, “Right, of course.”

The rest of the conversation is mostly you smiling and nodding along to the funny stories and inside jokes the group shares. When you and Steve get back to his place later that evening, you apologize for not updating him on the Sonic situation sooner.

Steve waves away your apology.

“Don’t even worry about it,” he says.

“But I feel bad,” you say, fidgeting with your fingers while you sit next to him on the couch. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

(You didn’t truly forget. You were embarrassed and didn’t want him to know.)

“These things happen,” Steve says. “I totally get it. For a few months after Vecna and…you, my brain was like scrambled eggs. I’d drink myself to a coma every other night. I definitely didn’t have the sharpest mind.”

You appreciate him for understanding. Except you feel shitty because you’re lying to him about forgetting. It’s a vicious cycle.

The two of you put on a movie, and while you’re lying on the couch with him, you start thinking of something you haven’t done in a long, long time.

You lightly trace your hand up and down the arm that’s wrapped around your middle.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “Would you want to…”

You clear your throat.

“What?” Steve asks.

You aren’t sure how to ask for what you want without sounding wholly desperate and/or pathetic and/or like the horniest bastard alive.

“Go to your room?” you say.

“Sure, if you want, we can go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

You laugh lightly.

“No, I mean. You know.”

You wiggle your eyebrows and Steve’s jaw drops. Mouth agape, like a goldfish, his brains seems to short circuit.

The air is charged with something you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Are you sure?” Steve says, a barely audibly whisper. His hand cups your cheek so delicately, and you feel cherished. Love. Seen.

“I am,” you whisper back, before pulling him closer to you for a kiss.

It’s the kind of kiss you dreamed about while you were trapped in another universe.

It makes you feel electric, the same way your first kiss had. That iconic kiss happened because Steve found out you’d never played spin the bottle. In his kitchen late, late at night, he took an empty soda bottle and spun it on the countertop.

He had maneuvered it just right and stopped it with his hand when the bottle neck pointed right at you, like a compass needle finding truth north.

“Well, what do you know,” Steve had said at the time, with a dopey grin on his face. “It’s you.”

“If you wanted to kiss me so bad,” you had quipped, “you could’ve just asked.”

And then you two kissed like crazy, amongst other things.

Back in the present, all your hesitancies and qualms about re-engaging in intimacy and sex with Steve are thrown out the window when you feel his lips on yours.

Giddy as if it’s the first time (because, in a way, it kind of is), the two of you break apart and practically race down the hall to his bedroom. Thank goodness for no roommates, because when you’re in there, Steve slams the door and presses you against it to kiss some more, closing the gap between the metaphorical great divide that you’ve placed between you both.

You tug at his shirt, and he pulls it off before the two of you stumble into his bed.

Things heat up, and they’re going great. Steve is kissing and biting your neck, probably leaving a hickey or two, but you don’t mind. His hands are gripping your waist, practically leaving scorch marks in their wake.

You’re loving this. You’re having a great time.

Until you’re not. The trains of thought in your brain all rush from the station at the same time, colliding at a junction on the tracks.

What if you give Steve an infection? Not an STD, but like, an Upside Down sickness. You could be a carrier and not even realize it. Is that a possibility? What did Dr. Owens say last time you saw him?

He advised you not to get pregnant. He said there’s a possibility your future children could have birth defects after your time in the Upside Down. Birth defects! You’re only 21 years old and your body is poisoned. Not enough to harm you in the short term, but the long term effects on you (and your progeny) could be terrible to deal with.

But Steve really wants kids. What if he finds out you can’t give him children and he leaves you? You really, really don’t want him to leave you.

You don’t realize it, but you start breathing a little harder. To Steve, it seems like you’re insanely turned on. Mentally, your brain is on a different plane of existence.

He’s going to leave you because he’s better off without you. He doesn’t realize it yet but one day, one day. He will.

Vecna was right. Vecna said Steve would get tired and bored of you. That’s why the monster tried to recruit you, to flay you. That’s why he pursued you across the Upside Down for days, hunting you like a dog until he cornered you at the quarry.

Steve finally takes notice of your erratic breathing pattern. You’re not reacting how you usually do to his kissing. He ceases the lovefest and leans up on his elbows.

“Y/N? You okay?”

You don’t hear him. You continue to hyperventilate, your eyes screwed tightly shut.

And when you stabbed the beast through the chest with the spear Eddie left behind, you didn’t even feel sorry.

Is that the kind of person you are? A sick, violent freak?

But it was self-defense!

But if you hadn’t tried to draw the demobats away, you wouldn’t have been in that situation. You went against the plan. You caused all the bad things that happened to you.

You’re a bad person. A bad omen. A bad girlfriend. A bad daughter. A—

“Hey, can you hear me? Y/N?”

Steve’s soft, slightly panicked, voice brings you back down to reality.

You nod, eyes still shut.

“Sorry,” you say. “I don’t—I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, still speaking quietly as if he’s afraid to scare you. You don’t feel his hands on you anymore, but you sense he’s still close. “It’s okay. Can you sit up? I think you should drink something.”

You sit up slowly and open your eyes. Steve looks frazzled, but he musters up a smile when he hands you a glass of cold water.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

You don’t respond, just take a sip.

“Can we just go to bed?” you say after a moment, voice cracking.

Steve nods and gives your knee a gentle squeeze.

“Of course. And, hey, listen, we don’t have to have sex anytime soon, okay?”

“But—”

“No, seriously,” Steve says, shaking his head vehemently. “I mean, of course I like having sex with you. Probably too much.”

You snort and shake your head, a small smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“But you know I don’t mind waiting. Right?”

You nod.

“Yeah, I know.”

But as you lie awake, tossing and turning, your brain continues feeding you lie after lie, and you find yourself believing the opposite. Prude, tease. Bad girlfriend. Bad person.

🫀🫀🫀

The next morning, you, Steve, Gus, Jessica, and Rochelle work on a homecoming float for the club basketball team the boys are on.

It’s fun at first. The parking lot is filled with floats for all different student organizations. Someone is playing music a bit too loud, but the energy is electric.

It takes a turn when Steve rushes off with Gus to get more supplies.

While you’re kneeling by the float trying to staple tinsel trim around the edge, you hear Rochelle and Jessica whispering conspiratorially on the other side. They can’t see you due to a large papier mâché basketball blocking you from view.

You're awash with embarrassment, feeling warm head to toe, when you realize they’re talking about you.  

“You know what Mollie told me?” Rochelle said. “When she and Steve were hooking up last year, he called her Y/N, like, three times.”

Your heart shrinks. You didn’t know Steve had been involved with anyone while you were gone. In fact, he said the opposite.

“That’s kind of sweet though, when you think about it,” Jessica muses. “But I wonder what caused Steve and Y/N to break up and then get back together. I’ve never dreamed of breaking up with Gus.”

“I heard some other super freaky stuff about her,” Rochelle says. “My sorority sister, Tina, is from Hawkins too. Apparently, Y/N had, like, amnesia or some shit after that earthquake thing. And she was like missing.”

“Damn,” Jessica says. “That’s crazy. How’d she remember stuff and get back home?”

“Who gives a shit?” Rochelle scoffs. “That’s obviously a cover story. Tina said the real story is probably something much simpler. Like she ran away to become a stripper but couldn’t hack it because she doesn’t have a good body. And, well, we’ve seen that firsthand.”

Anger and shame courses through your veins, and you tug on the hem of your sweatshirt. You’re comforted only a miniscule amount when you hear Jessica come to your defense.

“Don’t be such a jerk. And we have no idea what really happened so stop making shit up, mkay?”

“I’m just repeating what I heard. But Tina’s right, her whole deal is so weird. I can’t believe she’s Steve’s girlfriend. He deserves better.”

Those words echo in your head. He deserves better. He deserves better. You’ve been thinking that a lot yourself lately.

You don’t care if Jessica and Rochelle see you when you toss your stapler onto the ground and stomp off.

“Oh, shit,” you hear Jessica say. “Nice going, Roche.”

“It’s not my fault! I didn’t know she was creeping around!”

As you beeline through the throngs of float-makers, you bump into Steve, holding a box of glittery something. He grins at you.

“Hey, where’s the fire?”

When he notices the grim look on your face, he sobers up.

“Whoa, what happened?”  

“Who’s Mollie?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Steve pales. He swallows hard, grip on the box loosening. He gingerly sets it on the ground next to him and shrugs.

“No one.”

“Liar.”

Steve glances around before leading you away from the crowd to a secluded spot on the outskirts of the parking lot.

“She really was no one,” Steve repeats. “Just some girl I had a class with. I was lonely and she liked me, so we went out twice.”

“I heard Rochelle say you hooked up with her,” you say. You cross your arms and try to keep angry tears at bay. “You told me you didn’t find anybody else.”

“I didn’t!” Steve says, a little louder. He clears his throat. “I meant that. We almost hooked up, but I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

You sigh and shake your head. You want to believe him so badly. But the voice in your head that’s been so cruel to you lately isn’t convinced.

“Do you still think about her?”

Steve scrunches up his face, wholly confused at your line of questioning.

“What? No, of course not. Like I said, we hung out twice, had one near-miss, and then never spoke again. Babe, is everything okay?”

He reaches a hand to your arm and you flinch away. Your action makes him frown deeper.

You rub your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say. “Just tired.”

A beat. You think Steve’s going to accept your answer, until: “Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not lying!” you say, irritation creeping into your tone. “I’m just tired. Okay, Steve?”

Steve fidgets from foot to foot. He’s starting to look as agitated as you feel. With an annoyingly calm, even voice, he says, “I think you’re not being honest.”

“And I think you should shut up,” you fire back, before you can stop yourself.

Steve’s face contorts into a frown, the line between his brows deepening.

“Whoa, what the hell?” he says. “Why are you being like this?”

“Because I just found out you lied about not being involved with someone while I was gone!”

Steve rubs his face with his hands, as if he’s trying to scrub away whatever he’s feeling. He takes a deep breath, another one, and then finally speaks.

“Y/N, I thought you were dead,” he says, voice strained. “You can’t seriously be jealous of me spending time with someone else because to my knowledge, I was never going to see you again.”

You know you should apologize for your outburst. Tell him about your insecurities, now dialed up to 1000 thanks to Rochelle’s comments. Rejoin his friends at the float like the normal girlfriend he probably wishes you were.

But instead, you find yourself voicing one of the fears that’s been swirling in your brain since June.

“It would be so much easier for you if that was still the case, right?” you ask, softly.

“Excuse me?” Steve asks.

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask. “Bringing me back?” He doesn’t react, doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. You clear your throat and, louder, add, “Because it would be so much simpler for you to date a girl like Mollie or Rochelle.”

“Jesus, Y/N,” Steve groans. “Don’t bring Rochelle into this.”

“Why not? She’s obviously obsessed with you!”

“Yeah?” Steve scoffs. “Well, I don’t like her. I like you.” He shakes his head, as if he’s short-circuiting, and corrects, “I love you!”

Too late. You already heard the Freudian slip of your worst nightmare. He doesn’t regard you in the same way he did before your so-called death. You’ve changed too much.

You shake your head vehemently.

“No,” you say. “No. You loved the girl I was before it all happened.”

“You’re still the same girl!”

“I’m not!” you shout. You’re so angry, so upset, so emotional, you can’t stop. You’re floating above your body and watching yourself speak when you say, “I’m not. She’s gone, and sometimes I wish you’d never brought me back so I wouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve goes still once more. When he finally replies, his voice is dangerously quiet: “How dare you say that.”

You hadn’t expected that. You’d expected him to swoop in with comforting platitudes. To hug you and promise it would all be okay. To truly hear the words you’re saying—the thoughts you’ve been too afraid to voice in therapy, thoughts you’ve sugarcoated in your mind to lessen that bitter feeling on your tongue when you finally speak them aloud.

“What?” you whisper. Your eyes sting, unshed tears collecting on your lash line.

“How dare you say that,” Steve says, shaking his head. He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. He runs a hand through his hair and barks out a laugh so hollow, you can practically hear the echo in his ribcage. “That’s so fucking selfish that you wish you were still down there. I was miserable without you. I didn’t want to go on. I didn’t think I could!”

He's not getting what you’re trying to say. You open your mouth to reply, to apologize, to try and fix things, but Steve continues.

“So for you to be so callous, to think so little of me, to think I’d rather date some vapid airhead just because it would be ‘simpler’? To think I somehow can’t love you anymore because of what you went through? That’s just…bullshit!”

You heave out a sob as tears roll down your cheeks. Steve’s expression morphs into one of guilt. He swallows hard.

“Y/N, I—”

“You don’t get to tell me my feelings are bullshit!” you snap. You sniffle and roughly wipe your tears away, before jabbing a finger into his chest and pressing in. “Ever since I’ve been back, it’s all about how everyone else feels about it. You and my parents are so much happier, and you seem to think I can snap back to how I was before and forget it all happened and be grateful that I survived. Well, I can’t!”

Despite your distance from the parade planning festivities, you see a few curious students glance in your direction. You can’t be bothered to care.

“I don’t know how to go on with life like normal after 15 months in that hell, and no one understands what I’m going through!” you yell. “No one has been through that! And I’m miserable and scared and anxious and I’m lying to my therapist week after week because I can’t even verbalize what I’m thinking without feeling like I’m losing my goddamn mind. So sorry if sometimes I wish all this would go away.”

Steve’s facial expression cracks your heart in seventeen pieces. He looks devastated and confused.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, somewhat cautiously. “You’re right. I’m not handling this well, not seeing it from your point of view. But this is the most you’ve expressed how you’re feeling about it all. For the past few months, I—I don’t know. I thought you were feeling okay.”

You sniffle again and shrug.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Steve says. He clears his throat. “This is good, I think. Well, no, it’s not good that we’re screaming at each other in the quad. But getting our feelings out is—”

“I want to go home,” you say, cutting him off.

Steve closes his eyes, sighs softly, and nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll drive you back to Hawkins tonight.”

“No, I want to go now,” you say, voice cracking as you try not to cry harder. “I want my mom to come get me.”

Hurt flashes on Steve’s features. “Babe, are you sure? I really don’t mind. I want to, actually. The drive will give us more of a chance to talk.”

But you’re too tired and overwhelmed to talk anymore. Steve understands, though his shoulders are slumped as the two of you walk back to his apartment.

He offers to pack your bag while you call your house. Your mom picks up on the second ring.

“Hello, Y/L/N residence.”

“Mom?” you sniff. “Can you come get me?”

“Oh, of course sweetie!” You hear the jingle of car keys. “Wait, are you crying? What’s wrong? Was it another nightmare?”

“I just don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Did you and Steve have a fight?”

“His friends were really mean,” you say quietly, deciding not to disclose that you indeed got in an argument with Steve. “This girl, Rochelle, said one of her friends from Hawkins is telling everyone I was a stripper.”

“Oh, don’t you listen to that.”

You can’t hold back tears as you begin to cry harder.

“How come everyone makes up those dumb rumors?” you say through sobs. “And if people on campus already know them, how much worse will it be if I’m a student here?!”

Your mom soothes you over the phone before promising to get there as quickly as possible. As you hang up the phone, Steve comes in from down the hall, frowning and carrying your now-packed duffel. He doesn’t even try to be subtle about his eavesdropping when he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me Rochelle said that to you?”

You shrug and look down at your feet.

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I keep replaying our conversation in my head,” he says, “and I feel like an ass.”

“You’re not, Steve.”

“No! I am. I absolutely am. You were honest and vulnerable, and I immediately got mad. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say flatly. Admittedly, you’re not sure if you forgive him yet. But you know you didn’t treat him well either, so you say, “I’m sorry too. I was insensitive. I know you had a hard time while I was gone—”

“But it’s nothing compared to what you were dealing with,” Steve says. He steps closer to you and intertwines your hands together. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“My mom’s already on her way,” you say. “And you should rest up. Tomorrow’s the parade, and the homecoming game.”

“I don’t need to go to the game.”

“Steve—”

“I’d rather come back to Hawkins this weekend,” he continues. “Spend more time with you. Talk things through, you know? Maybe I can just ride with you and your mom, and Munson can bring me back Sunday.”

He’s sweet. But you aren’t sure how to tell him that you really, really don’t want to be around him right now. You don’t want to be around anyone, really.

You take a deep breath, gently drop his hands, and say, “I think I need some space.”

You can’t look Steve in the eye, but you hear the pain in his voice when he says, “Oh. Um, okay. Yeah. Of course. Space.”

You two sit in awkward silence while you wait for your mom to arrive. When she gets there, Steve continues to be a gentleman, carrying your bag for you and politely making small talk with your mom. He gives you a hug goodbye, but it doesn’t linger the way his hugs usually do.

As your mom drives away, you watch your boyfriend get smaller and smaller in the side mirror.

Before leaving, you promised him you’d call him that night.

You conveniently “forget” to do that.

He leaves a message at 9:37 p.m., asking you to call him back.

You don’t.

🫀🫀🫀

NOVEMBER 1987

“Hey, babe. It’s Steve. Again. I know we agreed on ‘space’ but I haven’t heard from you in three weeks…I don’t want to rush or smother you, but I’d really like to talk, even if it’s for, like, five minutes. So please call me back. I love you, Y/N.”

-

“Hey Y/N. Are you doing okay? Robin says she saw you and your mom at the store the other day and you just seemed kind of…out of it. To be honest, I’m worried about you. Listen, even if you don’t…even if we…even if you’ve decided you don’t want to be with me anymore, or something, I still care about you. And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Please call me. Bye. Love you.”

-

“Hi Y/N, I’m coming back to Hawkins for Thanksgiving. Can I come by after you and your parents have dinner? I want to check in. On how you’re doing, and on how you’re feeling about ‘us.’ Let me know, okay? Bye, Y/N.”

-

“Hey. I’m going to swing by your place after I’ve finished Thanksgiving dinner with the Buckleys. Robin told me you’ve been avoiding her too. And Eddie, and Jonathan. I know you’re going through a tough time, but don’t try to do it alone. That’s a lesson I learned the hard way last year. I’ll see you tonight, all right?” 

🫀🫀🫀

You’ve spent the past month and a half wallowing. All you really do is sleep, eat, shower, and take short walks around your neighborhood for exercise. Any time Steve calls the house phone, you tell your parents to let it ring and let it go to voicemail.

It’s shitty of you, but you aren’t sure how to dig yourself out of this hole that you’ve found yourself in. You’re still feeling rather undeserving of Steve.

So when he shows up on your doorstep on Thanksgiving, wearing that maroon sweater that you’ve always just adored, the first thing you do is apologize for your radio silence. Then, you offer him pumpkin pie.

“I won’t say no,” he says. “As long as you split it with me.”

While your parents cuddle on the couch and watch It’s A Wonderful Life, you and Steve sit on the kitchen counter and eat slices of pie with whipped cream.

For a few minutes, you exchange small talk and pleasantries. Then, Steve gets down to business.

“How have you been doing, really?” Steve asks.

“Fine. Just tired.”

“Y/N,” Steve says with a sigh. “Please just be honest with me.”

You suck in a breath.

“Okay. You want honesty? I’m having a really hard time.”

“I know,” Steve says gently. “And I want to help. Can you talk to me about what’s going on?”

You consider it. You consider wrenching your heart open for him and admitting all your fears and insecurities. But last time you broached this subject with Steve and tried to be wholly honest about what you were feeling, you didn’t explain it right and he took it the wrong way.

And you also hear what sounds like Rochelle’s voice in your mind: He deserves better. He deserves better.

You save yourself the trouble and say, “I need to get my shit together. And I’m not being a very good girlfriend while I do, so I think we need to break up.”

Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel tears coming on. Everything only worsens when you hear Steve whisper, “What?” 

He deserves better. He deserves better. He deserves better than you.

“I have to focus on myself right now,” you continue as the tears roll down your cheeks. You stab your pie with your fork and say, “I’m sorry. I love you so much—”

“I love you too, Y/N, so I—”

“—but I need to deal with this on my own. It’s not fair of me to treat you like this.” You clear your throat and add, “You deserve someone who can give you everything you want.”

“You’re what I want,” Steve says. You can’t look at him, but you get the impression that he’s tearing up too. “I mean, if this is really what you want, I’ll respect your decision completely, but I just have to know—is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

You don’t want to do this—

—but he deserves better.

“I’m sorry, but no.”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Steve says after a beat. “Even if we aren’t together anymore, I’m still here for you. You know that, right?”

You nod, still decimating your pie slice with your fork.

“Okay, good.” He sniffles.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to keep apologizing.” 

“Sorry. Ah, I mean—”

Steve chuckles, despite everything. You two share an awkward hug goodbye before he leaves.

You stay in the kitchen and hear him wish your parents “Happy holidays.” As you hear the front door open and shut, as you hear his car turn on and drive away, you try to convince yourself this was the correct choice. That shutting him out means he’ll live a happier life without you.

The pit of emptiness like a chasm in your soul will go away eventually, right?

🫀🫀🫀

FEBRUARY 1988

It’s been 3 months since you broke up with Steve.

You decided to defer your U of I enrollment. Steve, being a good friend, calls a few days before the semester starts asking if you’d like help moving into your dorm, and you break the news to him. He understands but sounds disappointed. It makes you feel terrible.

But this is the right choice. You aren’t ready to be away from home, away from your parents, even if it’s just a couple hours away.

You start taking community college classes to fill your time and get some credits, along with working at Bradley’s Big Buy as a stocker. It’s mindless, monotonous work. It’s kind of perfect.

What isn’t so perfect is your therapist, Elaine. She’s nice enough. But she doesn’t seem to get it. You aren’t able to fully tell her what you went through, considering she knows nothing about the Upside Down, so she can’t really help you.

When you start opening up about the dark thoughts worming their way through your mind, Elaine advocates strongly and staunchly for putting yourself out there and making new friends to fill the void. You’re starting to wonder if you’re wasting your time shelling out $50 a week.

You do think a better social life would be good for you, so you invite Robin, Eddie, and Jonathan to come over to your place for a horror movie marathon. (Nancy would be invited too, if she wasn’t away at school.) You’ve rented a D-level slasher trilogy about a man in a hockey mask attacking pageant queens. It’s small potatoes compared to what you’ve actually been through.

Jonathan agrees, but both Robin and Eddie tell you they can’t make it. Robin because she’s got the flu. Eddie because he has band practice all afternoon and into the night.

It stings like a barb ripping you open when you swing by Melvald’s for cheap movie candy and spot the two of them across the street, laughing as they head into the Hawk with…Steve, who must be home from school for the weekend.

So they do want to have a movie night. Just with Steve and not you. Message received.

You wonder if Steve said something to sour you in their eyes. You thought the breakup was amicable. You know he was upset by it, but he respected your decision. And he doesn’t seem like the type to badmouth an ex, especially after all you’ve been through together.

But anxiety rolls through your nervous system the rest of the day. As you and Jonathan watch the crappy movies, you just feel numb.

“Jee-sus!” Jonathan yelps as the killer’s chainsaw hacks through someone’s limb.

He glances your way, eyebrows raising. “What? That didn’t scare you?”

You shrug. “I’ve seen worse.”

Jonathan’s brow furrows. He leans over and pauses the movie.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? We can watch something else. Or, if you’d rather be alone, I can head out.”

You pick at a loose thread on the pillow in your lap.

“Are Robin and Eddie mad at me?” you whisper.

“What?” Jonathan says with a laugh. “You’re, like, the nicest person in a fifty-mile radius. Why would they be mad at you?”

The old you was nice. The current you is moody. But Jonathan is also pretty moody, so maybe your moodiness is baseline in his eyes.

“They both said they couldn’t come tonight,” you continue, “but then I saw them just an hour ago in downtown Hawkins heading into the Hawk with Steve. Why else would they make up excuses not to come unless they were mad?”

Jonathan takes a long, slow sip of his grape soda and shrugs.

“It’s probably because they don’t want you to think they chose Steve over you in the breakup.”

“But that’s exactly what they did!”

“Maybe not,” Jonathan says. “Maybe they just made the plans with Steve before you invited us over and it’s easier to turn down your invitation than cancel on him.”

That’s a very logical way of looking at it, but it still stings feeling like you’ve lost two friends since you and Steve aren’t together anymore.

You and Jonathan continue watching, but his mom calls halfway through the second movie, forcing him to leave early—something about El using telekinesis to turn her bed into a bunk bed and it backfiring horribly.

You try to push your worries out of your mind, but paranoia takes a hold. As you toss and turn in your bed that night, clutching Lambchop for a semblance of comfort, your brain bullies you.

Robin and Eddie are pissed at you. Probably because you haven’t gone to any Corroded Coffin shows since you’ve been back. You’ve been a little preoccupied.

A little selfish, more like. It doesn’t matter what you’re going through. You should still support your friends.

But why? You don’t like drinking alcohol anymore because you don’t like feeling out of control. And the Hideout is the only place Corroded Coffin plays, and that place reeks of booze and cigarettes and bad decisions.

Maybe that’s why Eddie’s mad. Is Robin mad by proxy? Did Steve shit-talk you to her? How did he describe the events of the breakup?

Were you a bad girlfriend? Are you a bad friend? Bad person?

Yes. You’re a bad person.

🫀🫀🫀

You happen to run into Robin on the community college’s campus the following Monday. You can’t help but ask if she’s feeling better.

Her eyes widen and she plasters on a smile.

“O-oh, yeah!” she says. “I’m feeling loads better. Tons! Tons better.”

“Your sinus infection is gone?” you prompt, knowing full well she told you it was the flu.

“Yep! All gone. My sinuses are as healthy as can be. I feel like I could live to be 100!”

You exchange a few more pleasantries and shuffle off.

🫀🫀🫀

MARCH 1988

There’s a dark cloud hovering over your mind. Most days, you’re lethargic. You go to classes and go to work, and you do start going to the Hideout on Tuesday nights with Jonathan and Robin to watch Eddie play with his band.

But that’s the extent of your social life. You’re feeling lonely and drained.

Things take a turn for the worse in March. It was a cold, cold winter in Hawkins, and spring is shaping up to be warmer but just as gloomy. Really bad thunderstorms shake the windowpanes of your house most days, and the streaks of lightning remind you so much of the grayish-yellow Upside Down sky, it makes you sick.

You can’t help but find yourself thinking you want to disappear to escape it all. Not die, exactly. But fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Maybe when you woke up, things would be better.

You try to explain what you’re feeling to Elaine the Therapist, and she doesn’t understand what you meant in the slightest.

“Have you gotten checked for narcolepsy?” she asks.

You give her a tight smile and say you’ll ask your doctor about it at your next checkup.

A bright spot is when Robin invites you to a party at her apartment. You forgot her and Eddie’s little white lie from a few weeks ago and RSVP yes.

The party is going well. You’re having a nice conversation with Jonathan and Eddie when Steve walks in, and he’s not alone.

Your heart sinks to your feet, through the floor, and all the way to the core of the earth when you see Steve is joined by Rochelle.

You don’t even hear any of the conversations happening around you. You quickly excuse yourself to the kitchen for a glass of water—and because you need to be alone.

You get about 15 seconds of a reprieve before Steve enters.

“Listen, it’s not what you think,” he says quickly.

“Hello to you too, Steve,” you say. You can’t even look him in the eye, choosing instead to study the ice cubes in your glass.

“I’m not here with Rochelle,” Steve continues. He runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, yes, she’s here. And I’m here. And we’re here together. But not together together! God, I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“None at all.”

“She needed a ride to her parents’ house for the weekend,” Steve explains. “She lives just forty-five minutes from here. But I guess they were out of town, and she didn’t have a key, so she’s staying with me. And she didn’t want to spend all day in my house alone, so—”

“She’s here,” you finish for him. You finally look him in the eye and force a smile. “That’s fine, Steve. You can hang out with whoever you want.”

“Trust me,” Steve snorts. “I’d rather not be hanging out with her. I’m just doing her a favor because she’s friends with Jessica and Gus.”

Before you can respond, Rochelle saunters into the kitchen. She smiles like a shark—all gums and teeth.

“Oh, it’s you!” she says. “Y/N! How have you been?”

“Fine,” you say politely. “How about you?”

“Oh, just great. Really great. Sad to not see you around campus, though. I thought you enrolled?”

She has the impressive capability of making everything single sentence sound like an insult.

“I’m going to community college instead,” you explain. “But I really should get back out there.”

You give Steve and Rochelle a wide berth before stepping back into the living room.

The rest of the party goes by fine. Except you can’t quite contain your rage watching Rochelle throw herself at Steve all afternoon.

She sits too close to him. She constantly whispers in his ear and giggles, like they’re sharing inside jokes and secrets. While Robin’s putting on a movie for everyone to watch, you swear you even see Rochelle put her hand on Steve’s thigh.

The only thing that makes you feel better is that Steve blocks every one of these advances. While Eddie regales you all with a Corroded Coffin storytime, you even notice Steve's slotted himself in between Robin and the wall, forcing Rochelle to stand off to the side near a potted plant.

When the party’s over, you wish Robin well and try to slip out unnoticed. Unfortunately, Steve has a terrible habit of noticing everything about you, and he follows you out.

“Hey, wait up!” he calls, jogging behind you as you speed walk to your car to avoid the sprinkling rain.

“Sorry, I have to go,” you say, struggling to unlock your car door.

Before you can get it unlocked and make your escape, Steve places a hand over the driver’s side door handle.

“Hold on,” he says. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Well, I have to get home—”

“This’ll take five minutes,” Steve promises. He traces an X over his heart. “Cross my heart, hope to cry.”

You scrunch your nose in confusion. “It’s ‘die.’”

“Huh?”

“It’s ‘Cross my heart, hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye.’”

Steve’s eyes widen and jaw drops, affronted. “Jesus Christ,” he grumbles. “Why would anyone ever want to do that?”

“That’s the point!” you say, and you can’t help but laugh at the appalled look on his face. “You don’t want to do that, so you keep the promise.”

“Ah. Okay, well, I’ll be fast. I just want to see how you’ve been doing these past few months. I—I miss you, you know?”

You swallow hard. The rain’s starting to pick up now. You don’t want to wait too much longer to drive home, or else it’ll be too hard to see. And if you see lightning, you’ll probably have a panic attack behind the wheel, making you a danger to yourself and others.

“I miss you too,” you say. “But I really, really need to get home now.”

You think of leaving it at that, but your heart feels as sad as the look on his face, so you add, “But you can come by my house later tonight and we can talk? Uh, how’s 8 sound?”

Steve’s face brightens. He gives you that smile that always makes your stomach do a backflip.

“I’d like that,” he says.

You smile back and open your car door. Before stepping in, you turn to him and say, “Do not bring Rochelle.”

“Cross my whatever and hope to who-gives-a-shit!” Steve says as he walks backward away from your car. You give him a small wave, which he returns, before getting in the car and driving off.

As you suspected, the drive home is much, much too anxiety-inducing. Thunder seems to shake the whole frame of the car as you drive across town. Rain falls in pails, as if angels are taking buckets and throwing them on your car specifically. Your windshield wipers can barely keep up, and cars are honking and passing you since your fear is causing you to drive about ten under the speed limit.

You try not to let that bother you as your hands grip the wheel for dear life, the muscles from your fingers up to your shoulders impossibly tense. There’s a reason your mom drove you everywhere last summer and fall. Getting back into the habit of operating a motor vehicle isn’t easy, and everything seems to scare you now.

Despite everything, the drive is going fine—until one of the cars passing you cuts a little too close as they swerve back into the right lane. They almost clip your front bumper, which causes you to panic and swerve off the road near the now defunct trailer park.

Your tires squeak on the wet grass and you slam on your breaks, heart pounding. Shuddery breaths draw in, out. In, out. You try and collect yourself and turn your left turn signal on to merge back onto the main road. However, something gray out of the corner of your eye causes you to whip your head in the direction of the trailer park.

This is where you died and were resurrected—well, the version of this in the Upside Down. In Hawkins, the area is cordoned off. No one can live there anymore, thanks to the big cracks in the earth. Once gates, they were now sealed, but they upended some trailers and tore others in two.

You see a flash of movement between two broken trailers. The gates are supposed to be closed, and there aren’t supposed to be Upside Down creatures in Hawkins anymore, but you can’t help but wonder alternatives. You feel compelled to check it out. 

You turn off your car’s ignition, grab the flashlight from your glove box, and clamor out, ducking under the “CAUTION” tape and jogging into the park. You squint in the rain, the beam of your flashlight scanning the surrounding area. You step over uneven earth, wondering if you’re wasting your time and should just—

“GRRRRRROWWWLLLL!!!!!”

You whip around and gasp. The gray creature you saw wasn’t a demo-creature, but a mangy, stray dog with muddy fur. It snaps its jaws and you see three little puppies cowering under a bush behind it.

An overprotective mama dog wouldn’t have scared you two years ago. You would’ve known exactly how to handle the situation without freaking out. But now, your fear spikes and you remember the few run-ins with hungry demodogs you had in the Upside Down. The dog is blocking your way back to your car, so you turn on your heel and run in the opposite direction, toward the imposing forest.

You can’t think clearly. Your mind is on fire. All you can think is Danger! Danger! Danger! And it’s keeping you from making any rational decisions.

You swear you hear the dog chasing behind you, snarling and ready to attack. You zig-zag between trees and glance behind to see if you really are being chased.

You lose your footing on slick mud, left ankle twisting painfully as you fall to the ground. Your flashlight skitters out of your grasp and rolls away, blinking out.

Now, you’re stuck in the rain, in the dark, with an injured ankle and no flashlight. Thankfully, the dog wasn’t following. But you feel powerless, hoping you can muster any survival instincts from your time in the Upside Down to make your way back to safety.

🫀🫀🫀

At 7:58 p.m., Steve parks outside your house.

He’s more nervous than he needs to be. He tries to remember that this isn’t a visit to win you back, as much as he wishes it was. No, he’s respecting your decision. But he’s glad he has the chance to just talk to you.

After you dumped him, he spent way too much time overanalyzing that fight you two had in October. It solidified the fact that he was an ass, completely misunderstanding you and getting mad for no good fucking reason.

Admittedly, he was tempted to throw away all his progress and drink away his misery. But he didn’t, channeling that energy toward more productive things. His mind is clearer than it was, and he’s going to make it right this time. Steve wants to check on you, the way his friends checked on him while he was having a tough time. Their support was invaluable.

Steve rings your doorbell, shaking out his umbrella.

The front door swings open. Your father looks expectant, before he frowns.

“Steve, hello,” your father says. “Is Y/N with you?”

Steve’s brow furrows. “Uh, no,” he says. “I’m supposed to meet her here.”

Your father curses and puts his head in his hands.

“Is it her?” your mother says, rushing around the corner with the cordless phone tucked under her shoulder. When she sees Steve, her shoulders slump. She speaks into the phone, “Hopper, she’s still not back.”

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, heart sinking. “Y/N’s missing?”

“She never came back from Robin’s party,” your father says, stepping aside to let Steve in. “You saw her leave, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a nod. His mouth feels very, very dry.

Your mother continues murmuring on the phone with Hopper, and your father continues grilling Steve: “How was she? Did she seem upset?”

“A little nervous, maybe,” Steve says. He swallows hard. “I, uh, I think she was freaked out by the storm.”

You should’ve driven her home, Steve thinks. You idiot. If something happens to her, it’ll be your fault.

“She’s been so quiet lately,” your father says, voice strained. He clears his throat. “And so jumpy. But she said she wanted to start driving again. We thought she was getting better…”

Your father looks like he’s beside himself. Steve is unsure what to say to make things right.

Your mother hangs up the phone and sighs. “Hopper’s going to go look for her,” she says. She chokes out a sob. “Oh, Roger…she’s been so down lately. What if she…”

“Let’s not speculate,” your father says firmly, though he looks anxious about the possibilities.

Your parents decide to drive around looking for you, and Steve joins the search in his own car as well. He can’t sit idly by knowing you’re out there, possibly in distress, possibly in danger.

🫀🫀🫀

While you’re sitting against a tree trunk trying to shield yourself from the rain, there’s a morbid part of you that’s okay with this.

You wanted something bad to happen. You wanted to be in some kind of distress, because you being hurt means people have to care about you. Right? They have to really, truly see that you’ve been struggling but haven’t been able to ask for proper help.

You snap yourself out of that thought process, trying to remind yourself that people do care about you. But it’s hard to feel that way when you’ve put so much distance between yourself and the people you love.

You aren’t sure how long you sit in the rain having a pity party, watching your swollen ankle get bigger and bigger. You need to ice it and elevate it. And anytime longer in this rain, you’ll catch a cold.

So, you crawl on your hands and knees and find as sturdy a branch as you can on the forest floor. You use it as a pseudo walking stick to help you hobble back toward the trailer park. You know the way, thanks to your time traversing the forest daily in the Upside Down.

As you get closer to the break in the trees, you hear people calling for you. You shuffle there faster.

“I’m here!” you yell, stumbling through the tree line. “I’m here!”

It’s Chief Powell and Hopper, and they look relieved to see you. Officer Callahan and an animal control worker are trying to coax the mama dog and her three pups into crates.

“What happened, kid?” Hopper asks, sitting with you in the backseat of Powell’s truck while the other man radios for an ambulance and a tow truck for your car. The usual gruff timbre to Hopper's voice has a softened edge to it today, like he can sense your emotional fragility.

“Some jerk pushed me off the road. And I thought I saw…I—listen, the mud made the dog’s fur look gray, and I thought it was—”

“One of these hellhounds?”

You nod.

“I’m not sure if you realize this,” Hopper says. “But it’s been two years to the day since you…you know.”

You swallow hard.

“I didn’t remember,” you admit. “I mean, I knew the anniversary was coming up soon, I just…”

“We were all worried you…did something,” Hopper continues cautiously.

“I wouldn’t,” you say, much too quickly. “I mean, I feel like shit a lot of the time, but…no. I wouldn’t.”

Hopper nods, eyeing you. He doesn’t quite look convinced.

When the ambulance arrives, he rides with you to the hospital. Then, your parents meet you at the ER, while a doctor looks over your ankle.

It’s sprained, but not broken, thankfully. They send you home with a brace, some crutches, painkillers, and instructions to elevate and ice.

The whole drive home, your parents give you a speech about how much they love you and how they want to know how you’re doing, and that if you ever feel low, to talk to them because they can help. Normally, that kind of thing would annoy you, but after today—the fear of seeing what you thought was a demodog, of being back in the wilderness by yourself, even just for a few hours—you appreciate the gesture.

It's after midnight when you get home, and the rain has finally let up. Your dad helps you up the porch stairs, leaning the side with your bad leg against him the whole way. You almost don’t notice the note tacked to the front door until your mom points it out.

It has your name on it. You open it. Parts of it have been scratched out, but you can still read it all.

Hey, Y/N. I was driving around looking for you when Hopper found me. I’m so glad to hear that you’re going to be okay.

I’ll swing by tomorrow to chat, if you’re still up for it. If not, no worries. I know it’s a tough time. I just want you to know that I miss you I care about you more than you know I’m here.

-Steve

🫀🫀🫀

When Steve comes by the next day, he’s not alone.

You’re surprised to see him and Max Mayfield standing on your porch.

“Uh, hello!” you say. “How are you, Max?”

“Pretty good,” she says, “now that Steve is taking us for ice cream.”

You raise your eyebrows and adjust your stance on your crutches.

“Oh!” you say. You look to Steve. He’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Everything about his posture is tense, nervous. You wonder if this is an intervention or something—if you’ll arrive at the ice cream shop and be bombarded by the rest of your friends and a licensed professional promising a “safe space.”

You tell your parents where you’re going, promising a million times that you’ll be careful, and hobble down the porch steps to Steve’s waiting car. He’s a gentleman, one hand hovering behind your back and ready to catch you if you fall.

Max lets you have the passenger seat, likely due to your injury. On the ride over, you consider (politely) asking what she’s doing there, as you expected this conversation would be about the nature of your and Steve’s relationship.

A part of you deep, deep down had hoped he would beg you to take him back. A part of you deeper down felt selfish for that, but it was what you wanted.

You made a huge mistake letting him go.

Steve ends up taking you both to Sonic, pulling into one of the parking spots and pressing the “Order” button. Max leans up from the backseat, sticking her head between the two front seats, and rattles off a complicated order of hot dogs, fries, slushies, and ice cream into the speaker.

“I thought this was just ice cream,” you say with an eyebrow raised.

Max smirks.

“Moneybags Harrington is paying,” she says, patting him on the shoulder.

“I resent that,” Steve grouses. But there’s a sparkle in his eye.

When the food comes, Steve divvies it up amongst the three of you. However, he quickly comes up with a shoddy excuse to step out of the car—something about the fries being a medium instead of a large.

Max climbs over the center console to settle in the driver’s seat.

You aren’t sure what to expect when you’re alone with Max, but it’s definitely not, “Dying and coming back really sucks, doesn’t it?”

Your burger immediately tastes like sandpaper. “Oh, let’s not talk about that,” you say. “Let’s talk about fun things. Have you learned any new skate tricks recently?”

“Don’t deflect,” Max says, waving a french fry at you for emphasis. “Steve said you were having a hard time because no one could relate to you, and I’m probably the only person in the world who can.”

She’s not wrong. After your return to the right side of the universe, you learned that Max woke up from her coma, completely healed, after you killed Vecna and the gates closed. You hadn’t thought about how the two of you had similar, paralleled experiences.

“It does suck,” you say quietly, swirling your spoon around in your ice cream cup. “And I kind of feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“For me, it was a lot of anger,” Max says. She fidgets with her own food as she continues. “I couldn’t understand people’s priorities anymore. Like, what do you mean you’re worried about a chem test, Dustin? A few months ago, the world almost ended!”

“I totally get that,” you say, and your heart already feels lighter. “And my parents don’t understand what really happened, so they just don’t get me at all. Why I get so scared, so angry. So jumpy. It makes me feel like I’m a freak in their eyes.”

“I feel like my mom doesn’t even see me anymore,” Max says. She clears her throat and you catch a glimpse of tears gathering on her lash line before she roughly wipes them away. “Like to her, I’m a ghost.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” you say. She scoffs.

“And there’s another annoying thing,” Max says. “The empty platitudes to make us feel better. That shit doesn’t fix anything!”

You’re not offended by her outburst, because you honestly agree. The two of you lament a bit longer, and by the end of the conversation, you’re feeling on top of the world. Sure, nothing is really fixed. But you finally realize that you have a kindred spirit in all this.

You and Max make a plan to do things together more often. You’re seeing her as a de facto little sister already, and you’re hopeful that your planned meetings will be just as beneficial for her as they are for you.

Steve comes back after what seems like a millennium, shooing Max back to the backseat.

“Took you long enough!” she says.

He just smiles.

🫀🫀🫀

JUNE 1988

It’s the first day of summer.

And it’s been a year to the day since you returned.

You expect to feel more anxious than you do. Instead, you feel peaceful.

You’re doing a lot better, genuinely. You found a new therapist (sorry, Elaine) and since it’s someone who worked with Dr. Owens, you’re able to spill all the gory details of your past and your trauma. Healing isn’t easy, but you feel yourself slowly sewing yourself back together again.

You and Max stick to your word and take weekly trips to Sonic. You talk about the heavy stuff, but also the normal life stuff. You sometimes have guests. This past week, Lucas and Mike tagged along, arguing the whole time about what should happen in the Ghostbusters sequel that’s supposed to release next year.

You and Steve…ah, what’s there to say. You want him back, but you imploded the relationship and it feels selfish to waltz up to him and say, “Hey, hot stuff. Wanna get back together?”

However, you’ve officially enrolled for the fall semester at U of I. While he’s home from Hawkins for summer break, under the guise of asking for tips about campus life, you spend a lot of time with him.

You also spend time in the library, doing some studying to catch up before you start your classes in the fall. Your high school graduation was a lifetime ago. Literally.

Steve, Robin, and Jonathan join you for those summertime study sessions, although Jonathan and Robin usually bicker over the music theory books and Steve doesn’t get much done except for doodling in his notebook. But sometimes you catch him staring at you, and then his cheeks flush pink in that adorable way that makes you want to do something stupid, like beg him to take you back.

If only you knew if he really felt the same…

…which you find out he does, during the summer solstice.

You’re at the county fair with your friends, but they’ve all run off to watch the fireworks, so it’s just you and Steve at a picnic table downing sodas and cotton candy.

Your fingers wrap around the cool glass of a now-empty Coke bottle, and you place it on the tabletop. You attempt to look nonchalant as you spin it slowly.

Once it’s picked up momentum, you let it go, watching it spin a few more times before stopping it with your hand when the bottle neck points at Steve.

“It’s you,” you whisper, attempting to recreate that magical first kiss moment from years and years ago. You clear your throat at Steve’s dumbfounded expression. “Ah, sorry. You don’t have to kiss me. I was just…”

To your pleasant surprise, Steve’s face splits into a grin. “Well, gee, Y/N,” he says. “If you wanted to kiss me that bad, you could’ve just said so.”

A million canaries titter a love song in your heart as he leans forward.

The two of you kiss, for the first time in a long time.

The great divide in your soul is starting to seal. And everything feels right.

THE END

🫀🫀🫀

a/n please lmk what you thought 🩵

tags; @aloneinthehellfire @starry-eyed-steve @hollandweather @wisdomssdaughterr @huffledor-able541 @springautumn

@sunshinesteviee @curiositydooropened @crappymixtape

#st fic: oj #st fic: tgd #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic

[kinzis-writing]

Three Years | George Weasley

Kinzi's 25 days of Christmas: Blogmas Day 2.

Summary: In which Y/N and George have been together for three years, and it takes a mistake for him to take the next step of their relationship.

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem! Reader

Warning(s): mentions of wizard war, mentions of death (not major character and not specified),

This could have ended way better, also the fact that this imagine is shorter than I like as well. I am doing my best at making my Blogmas posts as long as possible, but sometimes it takes me hours to plan the plot of these short stories out. I am a perfectionist, so that is why I never re-read and edit any mistakes because I am afraid of wanting to go back and change the whole story. *Fred did not die in the war*

Three years, it has been three years since George had grown a pair and asked Y/N to be his girlfriend. Since then, there had been many events happen in the course of their relationship. They had moved past the awkwardness of the beginning of the relationship, they had gone through their firsts that every relationship goes through, and everything in between.

Their relationship had survived the second wizard war but had challenges. Seeing as Fred had to be taken care of because of an accident and then George getting hurt before then. It was a hectic and stressful time for the couple, but now everything was back to normal. Well, normal as everything could be after losing some of the nicest people.

Christmas was tomorrow and Fred and George had many customers in and out of the joke shop. Whether it was for Christmas gifts or something before going home for a Christmas prank. They had many customers a day and George had found it hard to be able to see Y/N during the holiday season. The joke shop was closing early and they would stay closed until after Christmas because they all knew the wrath of Molly if they did not show up on time or if they left early.

On Christmas day, Molly was having dinner at the newly built burrow and told everyone that dinner was at 5 o'clock sharp. That morning, George had gotten up to wrap the present for Y/N that he had spent a decent amount of money only to find it missing from the place that he had put it.

"Hey, Fred." George called knocking on his bedroom door and walking in, "have you seen-" He stopped when he noticed Fred's girlfriend wearing the necklace and earring set that he bought specifically for Y/N. The reason he had picked them out was because he had seen her looking at them and she refused to buy them because of the price they costed. “Found them.” He mumbled to himself, his eyes not leaving the necklace.

He was sure that there had to be some sort of mix up. His twin would not steal his girlfriend’s gift on purpose. Instead of getting angry, George did what he believed was right, found Fred and asked him what he thought he was doing.

“I’m sorry,” Fred mumbled when he noticed the distressed look on George’s face. “I grabbed the wrong gift and before I could correct it she was so happy.” He trailed off making George groan. “You could give Y/N the gift I bought for Angela.” He suggested.

George thought about it for a moment, they had hidden their gifts in the same place. Meaning it was an easy mix up and he knew that Fred was telling the truth about grabbing the wrong box. Fred had planned on getting Angela a promise ring, and that gift would work if George hadn’t already given Y/N one of those almost a year ago.

“I’ll come up with something.” George mumbled before leaving his twin to himself. He had less than four hours to come up with the perfect gift for his girlfriend and he was determined to find it.

Four hours had flown by and by the time George and Fred joined everyone at the burrow, Y/N was already there. It wasn’t a shock to the twin, seeing as she was early to everything.

“You’re lucky you aren’t a minute later.” Y/N spoke as she walked up and greeted George from where she had been helping Molly. She had gotten there early knowing that it would be hectic if she didn't. "Molly has be waiting for you guys to arrive."

George gave her a quick kiss before going and putting their gifts under the tree. He wasn't sure how Y/N would like his gift, but he had come up with something... sentimental. Angelina had gone into the kitchen to see what the girls were up to, while Fred and George joined their brothers and Harry by the fire.

"I doubt that Ron even got me something." Hermione stated to Y/N who was setting the Table for Molly. "He's still so awkward about some things."

Y/N let out a small laugh, "I think that's just Ron." Y/N was a year between each group. Fred and George were a year older than her, and she was a year older than the golden trio, while being two years older than Ginny. "Hi, Angie." She greeted with a smile her eyes flickering to the earrings and necklace the girl was wearing. "I love your jewelry set! I wanted to buy the same one, but I didn't want to pay that price."

Angiela gave the younger girl a small smile, "Thank you, Fred got it for me." she replied before going over to greet Molly.

Dinner had come and gone within an hour and Molly had the kitchen cleaning itself. The family gathered around the fireplace as they got ready to open presents. Y/N was sitting on the floor, between George's legs as he sat on the couch. She was chatting with Hermione as they were talking about the after-holiday plans and if anything had to change.

"I think I am going to move." Y/N told Hermione as the girl played with the necklace she always wore. "The place I live at is getting worse and the landlord won't fix it."

Pretty soon the presents were being handed out by the Weasley's and everyone gathered knowing the Christmas tradition at the Weasley's house. Y/N had gotten George the thing he had been wanting for a while and he was beyond excited to receive the gift. It was unexpected and it made him nervous about her opening her gift.

"Can you go upstairs?" George asked Y/N as he noticed Molly hand her the gift that he had gotten her. "I would prefer you not open it in front of everyone." he mumbled quietly as the couple stood up and snuck off.

The pair in the room that they assumed was Ginny's for when she came back home just due to the looks of the room and so on. "There was a mix up of gifts this morning," George started as Y/N went to open her gift. "Fred gave Angela yours and-" He stopped talking when he noticed Y/N's reaction to what was in the box.

Wide eyes stared down at the little jewelry box, you would assume it would hold something that you could wear. Yet, it was nothing close to that. The key laid flatly in the velvet box, and y/n did not know what to think. "What Are-What are you asking?" she asked scared to assume.

Maybe this was a sign that she could come and go as she pleases instead of knocking, or maybe it was exactly what she thought it was. "Will you move in with us, well me?" He asked carefully. "I know it's not expensive and like I said, Fred gave Angela yours by mistake and-"

His sentence was interrupted by Y/N stepping forward and wrapping her arms around the boy she had loved for four years, even though they had only been together for three. "It's perfect." She assured to ease his nerves at the fact that his gift was something he already had, or just the price of making a copy of the key. "You didn't have to get me anything."

George shrugged, "I figured it was time to take the next step, it just took a push from Fred." he spoke softly to the girl he knew he was so lucky to have.

"Well, you just saved me the stress of apartment hunting." She replied back as she grabbed the key out of the box and handed him the box back, knowing that it probably belonged to Fred's other gift. "I love you so much, you know that right?"

"Of course, love." George nodded with a smile on his face. "I love you as well." With that Y/N leaned forward and caught the Weasley's lips between hers. They kissed for a moment before pulling away, George with a cheeky grin, "I could have proposed instead."

Y/N's smile grew at the thought of eventually marrying George and becoming a Weasley herself. "That sounds like a plan for next year." She winked before kissing him one more time and leaving the room, him trailing behind her.

"Are you saying you'd rather live with me, instead of marrying me right now!?" He asked not knowing how to take the information if she were to confirm.

"I have to live with you first to see if we're compatible." She told him with a shrug, but she was joking. Regardless of what happened she knew that she would love him.

"What does that mean?"

I hated the way I ended this, but Blogmas day 2 is complete! I have been working on Blogmas, requests, and my Mattheo series so I have been busy. This is on top of having to study for my finals so.

#george weasley #george weasley imagines #Kinzi's 25 days of Christmas #blogmas #Blogmas day 2 #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #george wealsey imagine #george weasly x reader #george weasely smut #weasley twins #fred weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #imagine #imagines #25 days of christmas #christmas

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters in the Hunger Games

As requested by @sweetteaanddragons :)

I haven't read or watched Hunger Games, but I've picked up enough through cultural osmosis...I hope. They're kids in an arena fighting to the death, right? And it's a media circus? And there are 12 districts? And they're poor? I think I got it! Anyway, let's stick Cosmere characters in that arena and see how they do!

By the way, for the most part I'm imagining these characters in their own separate hunger games, not all together, just because I didn't want to imagine all of my blorbos killing each other.

1. Kaladin

After a kid who looks just like Tien literally dies in Kaladin's arms (note: all of the kids look exactly like Tien so far as Kaladin is concerned), Kaladin realizes that the Hunger Games are about kids dying, not about kids surviving. He decides that he has to save everyone, and quickly builds a coalition with the other tributes. They all die anyway and Kaladin wins.

He's not happy about it.

2. Shallan

Sadly, Shallan dies while trying unsuccessfully to convince a stick to become fire. Technically, I think this means the stick wins, but they give the award to some kid instead, for some reason.

3. Adolin

Adolin was doing really well until FOUR other tributes all decided to gang up on him. Even then, he fought like an uncaged tiger and very nearly survived. Nearly. (Hey, uh, most characters die in Hunger Games, right?)

4. Vin

Vin slices through the competition like a vengeful god. Emphasis on vengeful. And god. She barely even lets herself get distracted by the weird love triangle between that guy who wants to make the world better and the one who wants to burn it all down. She's too busy, like, killing everyone.

5. Zane

Zane thinks it's pretty swell to be in this killing arena killing people. What isn't swell is that Vin isn't into him, even AFTER their romantic killing spree. What gives? Anyway. Vin kills him.

6. Elend

Elend has a lot of thoughts about the sociological implications of the games. He does not have a lot of thoughts about how to sharpen a stick into a crude spear and ram it through someone's chest. (Is that what happens in the Hunger Games?) Regardless, I don't think he makes it long... Sorry, Elend.

7. Spook

Spook is a wraith. No one ever sees him coming. Or sees him at all. He keeps receiving supplies and weapons from a mysterious benefactor. At one point he starts wearing a handkerchief over his eyes and killing people by sound alone. I don't really see him winning, tbh (sorry Spook), but he is definitely a crowd favorite who makes it super far.

8. Szeth

"To kill innocent children for the amusement of distant viewers blackens my soul with a stain that shall never be removed. Oh, how I hate this. Oh, how I hate this senseless, senseless killing," Szeth thinks to himself as he constructs an unnecessarily elaborate death trap that kills his opponents horribly. "No one suffers like me," Szeth thinks, over all of the screaming.

9. Renarin

Hey remember when Renarin killed a Thunderclast mostly off-screen? Plus he has future sight. If they've got their powers in this game, then Radiant Renarin is probably taking it all. If not, well...let's not go there.

10. Vivenna

After her sister is sent as a tribute in Vivenna's place, Vivenna enters the Hunger Games anyway, determined to somehow put a stop to them. For example, she takes all the food she can find and hides it in one place so that it will be safe for everyone. She figures out how to predict supply drops to ensure that she always gets to them first. While convinced that she is the Hunger Games Breaker, she is actually the season's most notorious villain and eventually everyone bands together to kill her. Sorry, Vivenna.

11. Kelsier

Kelsier wins the hearts of viewers everywhere, mostly due to his determination to keep smiling no matter what horrors he must survive. He's, like, really good at killing people also. The Survivor, people call him. But when he is shockingly cut down and killed, his death galvanizes a rebellion against, uh, President Snow? Is that the big bad? Anyway. There's a religion about him now.

12. Ann

Oh, Ann. So excited to shoot guns. (Do they have guns?) So excited to shoot bows and arrows maybe. But she can't shoot worth a damn. She has a splendid time and hits no one. And, well, she does not win.

13. Cord

Frankly, Cord wants to win and bring glory and money (?) back home to her people, who desperately need it. I'm assuming the districts get stuff if their person wins. Cord is in it to win it. And she's awfully good with that bow and arrow...

14. Lift

Man, I don't want Lift to be in the Hunger Games! Lift thinks killing is lazy and boring! Sure, she'd be great at hiding in trees and getting food, but I definitely do not see Lift actually being able to kill anyone. Is that allowed? Will she be disqualified?

15. Tress

Tress looks at the Death Arena Whose Purpose Is Death and says, "But is anyone gonna Make Friends about it" and doesn't wait for an answer. Somehow, by the end, basically everyone IS friends. Except for that one person who really did want to kill. But she and Tress went off together and only Tress returned. So.

Basically, Tress's influence ruins the Hunger Games that year. Nobody wants the Friendship Games.

#Cosmere #Cosmerelists #Kaladin #Adolin #Shallan #Vin #Elend #Spook #Zane #Lift #Tress #Vivenna #Kelsier #Szeth #Ann #Renarin #Cord

[kingjullian-3]

This was a season of curses being broken. Jimmy through a technically was not the first to die. Grian as far as I’m aware did not kill or be the direct cause for an allied death. None of Scott’s allies this season won.

Lizzie was the first to die. Forgotten by the watchers, left to suffocate in the thin air of the void. Her death had been a complete accident not many people even noticed or felt sorry. Her death also wasn’t the start of chaos, but neither was Jimmy’s. He died during the chaos, and a watchers last ditch effort to see through a curse that shouldn’t have lasted.

Grian didn’t have many allies this season. The only real ones being Cleo and Etho. Every other season he has had a strong alliance almost the entire season. This time? It really wasn’t till session 4/5 when he made any real connections. However he still trusted Etho and Cleo as if they had been his allies the whole season, stayed with them despite his history. Everyone knows of Grian’s Icarus curse, doomed to cause a ally to fall. But they stood by him, never dying as a cause of him.

It’s common knowledge that in every other season, the winner had somehow been connected with Scott. The Flower Desert Alliance, Scott himself, Pearl was his soulmate, Martyn had been the other Mean Gill. Yet Scar never really had any real connection to Scott. Sure they got along, but I wouldn’t call that an alliance. Scar turned his back on anyone who sided with him in a way.

This season was more about healing than anything else. Curses were broken, more than just those 3. Joel didn’t have his signature red bloodlust (as far as I know). It’s also important to note the implication regarding the forgotten duo as I’ll call them.

Lizzie and Grian were both forgotten in a way. No-one showed up to Lizzie’s birthday party, A single person really cared that she had died. Lizzie has been forgotten by everyone. The watchers, listeners, and players alike. This ultimately lead to her unfortunate demise, trying to fill out a task given to her by Joel.

“He was never meant to be there, he was only ever meant to watch” that line alone sums up almost the entirety of Grian this season, especially session 7. During the curse of the boogey, they only thought of Scott and Cleo. Sure he was mentioned in passing, but no one ever really looked for him. Etho realised that Grian had been forgotten when he looked to the sky and saw the changed platform. His way of apologising was by letting Grian complete his task freely.

Grian watched carefully from the safety of the cobblestone tower as the rest of the server was in chaos. Hunting for allies and enemies alike. Never once looking up to the skies. Just as a watchers should be. Watching. Never getting involved and forgotten to do his own thing. Perhaps THEY had successfully done one thing this season after all

#grian #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #ldshadowlady #life series #secret life #jimmy solidarity #martyn inthelittlewood #dangthatsalongname #scott smajor #this season made me so ill #AAAAAAAAA #I love how poetic the ending truely was

[withwritersblock]

5 foot 9

~5 Foot 9 by Tyler Hubbard~

Author's Note: short and sweet lol Summary: Cole finally speaks to the girl he sees every day. Word Count: 743 Cole Caufield x fm!reader

She was stunning. Every day since he moved into this apartment complex he’s seen her. A sundress covering her frame, even on the cold days in Montreal. It was always a ten second interaction. A polite smile as they pass each other in the lobby. 

Her smile was intoxicating, so much so that Cole hasn’t stopped thinking about her. Which is why he is currently pacing in his apartment, he was ready earlier than normal. He was so excited to just meet her gaze and see her smile. He had a minute until he would leave to get the chance to see her.

Today, he was dressed nicer than how she normally would’ve seen them. He had a black undershirt and a dark teal suit. He switched his suit three times trying to decide which one would be perfect. Yet he was still ready earlier than normal. 

He probably wasn’t even going to see her. It was Saturday night, she was probably getting ready to go out with friends.

He took a hold of his keys and left his apartment, locking it before he walked down the hall towards the elevator. 

“C’mon,” he mumbled as the elevator was taking forever to reach the twelveth floor. The doors finally opened and he quickly stepped inside. Pressing the lobby button before he pressed to close the doors. He leaned against the back wall, watching the numbers slowly go down.

On the fifth floor the elevator doors opened and a beautiful girl wearing a Habs jersey with leather black pants stepped inside. He looked into her eyes, giving her the same polite smile that he’s always given her every time he saw her in the lobby. She always looked gorgeous in a sundress, but seeing her wear his team’s jersey lit a fire inside of him. 

She spun around as she walked inside, Cole took note of Lehkonen on the back. It must’ve been an older jersey since he was with the Avs this season. She stood beside him closer than a normal amount of space allowed in an elevator. 

Cole never noticed her height before, she was a couple inches taller than him, but the thought went out of his mind as quickly as it went in. He shifted his gaze towards her and she did the same thing.

“Habs fan?” he let out, the words shocked himself as she smiled. 

“I’ve lived in Montreal for two years now,” she said with a southern accent, “Have yet to see a game,” she mumbled as she met his eyes.

“Two years? I’m a little hurt,” he explained, placing his hand to his chest. She chuckled a wide smile to her lips.

“I did get a jersey when I moved here, does that make you feel better?” she teased, her southern accent was bright and beautiful. A different sound then what he’s used to.

“It’s not mine, can’t say it does,” he turned his body towards her and raised his eyebrows as he pressed his lips together. She rolled her eyes playfully. “Lehky is a good player though. Good choice,” he said as the elevator doors opened. His eyes looked at the lobby, saddened to see the moment end so soon.

They walked out of the elevator side by side. “Oh darlin’ I know, my dad grew up in Montreal, he’s a die hard Habs fan,” she expressed. He smiled widely.

“So you knew who I was and never stopped to say hi or anything?” he asked with a teasing tone.

“I liked you being the pretty boy stranger in the lobby, not the Habs star player,” she explained while they walked through the lobby side by side.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without a dress on,” he said as he nervously shoved his hands into his pants pockets.

“Hockey arena’s are cold,”

“So is Montreal,” he said laughing. They reached the doors and the chilly Novemeber air hit the pair. She smiled widely. 

“I guess that’s also true,” she explained as she stepped up towards the Uber waiting for her. “Good luck tonight, Cole Caufield,” she mumbled before she climbed into the backseat. 

He stood still, a smirk on his lips as he watched the Uber drive away. 

He finally spoke to the stunning girl in the lobby and he never caught her name.

 His eyes widened, “Fuck,” he groaned, his mouth fell open. He never caught her name, “Idiot,” he muttered, gazing at the pavement.

#cole caufield #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield imagine #cole caufield fluff #montreal canadiens #nhl x reader #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl fic

[stevie-petey]

episode eight: the upside down

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends? “Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused.  “Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!” “We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted. Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

summary: drinking game time ! take a shot every time jonathan tries ditching you or every time you almost die at the byers house, you find out that steve really is an athlete and tbh it's hot, but you know what's even hotter ? saving hawkins and reaching a tentative compromise with steve after he loans you $5 for snacks. after, jonathan makes a promise you really hope he can keep.

rating: general, cursing and slight scary violence

warnings: violence, use of fire and weapons, guns, use of fem!reader and use of y/n, slight mentions of blood and death

words: 13.7k

before you swing in: the final chapter ,,, my heart </3 please enjoy my child, i put so much into this chapter. action scenes scare me, they're hard and i'm weak, so i hope this lives up to everything you guys wanted n more ;) i cannot believe we're at the end (but i do have another chapter planned that's set in season 1, so shhhh). thank you so so so much for all your support. i never thought this silly lil fic would get that much attention, but i'm insanely flattered and grateful for each and every one of y'all. i'm so proud of what i've created and you guys are my beloveds ,,, anyways, enjoy !!!

-

You almost miss Jonathan and Nancy sneaking off. 

You had been explaining a comic book that had been in your bag to El when you noticed a shift in your periphery. Turning your head, you see Jonathan stand, offer Nancy his hand to help her up, and then walk towards the main doors together. 

What the fuck. 

“They wouldn’t dare…” You excuse yourself and run out the gym and into the hallway to follow them, absolutely furious. You’re so sick of their bullshit, of Jonathan’s bullshit and putting Nancy first. This isn’t even a petty jealousy thing, this is about the years of friendship between the two of you that has just suddenly disappeared within a damn week all due to circumstances completely out of your control. 

The slam of the main door is the only warning Jonathan gets before you’re yanking him by his coat and flinging him back, forcing him to look at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You’ve never, ever yelled at him like this before. Not even earlier this week when he’d given you that bullshit apology after screaming at you for being in his room, for saying the two of you weren’t family. You didn’t yell at him for hiding Nancy’s pictures from you, for going off without you to find the monster. Despite everything, you’ve never been this cruel to him, even if he may have deserved it at times.

Jonathan’s wide eyes stare down at your hand that’s still clutched around his coat, frightened. “Bug, we were just–”

“Just what? Sneaking off without me?”

“It’s not like that, Y/N.” Nancy now steps in, her hands held up as if you’re some rabid dog she wants to calm down. “We just figured we’d help Joyce and Hopper.”

“‘We’? Are you fucking kidding me? You two talked about this, had an entire conversation, and still somehow came to the conclusion that ditching me was a great fucking idea?” You scoff, deeply hurt by the fact that the two of them had an entire conversation without thinking to include you in it. 

“Bug, can we talk about this one on one?” Jonathan asks, his voice lowered. You can see the genuine upset in his eyes and for a moment your grip on him lessens, but then you see Nancy behind him and your anger only returns. 

“No, we can discuss this right here.” 

He sighs and tries to grab the hand not clutching his coat, but you slap it away. “Bug–”

“You’ve lost that privilege.” 

“Bug–I mean, Y/N,” His voice falters. “Look, my mom and Hopper are out there right now trying to find Will while that monster is still out. Nance and I… We want to finish what we started.” 

“Without me?” You don’t mean for it to happen, but your voice catches at the end.

Jonathan’s gaze softens and this time he succeeds in grabbing your hand. You let go of him and allow him to pull you in, weak against him as always. “I’m doing this to protect them, to protect you, Y/N. I’m always trying to protect you. You know that, right?”

You used to think that you did, but now? You’re not so sure, and it terrifies you. 

Nancy has stepped away from the conversation, now kicking at rocks while you’re with Jonathan, and you can’t help but think about how wrong all of this feels. 

Throughout this entire week it’s felt like someone has given you a photo of Jonathan, smeared its lines and edges, removed his moles and his crooked smile and made it neater, altered so that if you squint you can see the boy you grew up with underneath it all… But it’s fuzzy, almost too unclear to really see. 

Now he’s standing in front of you, his smile once more crooked and cunning and his moles faded underneath the moonlight and for a second you can see him. There he is, clear and untouched and him in a way that’s never quite been yours.

“I know,” you tell him. “But how many more times do you expect me to forgive you for lying and ditching me? If you want to protect me, you need to talk to me.”

Jonathan winces. “I know, I know it sounds stupid and I know I’ve fucked up more than enough this week, I just get caught up in wanting to make sure you’re safe. It’d kill me if I let anything happen to you… I just, I can’t lose you, bug.”

“So pushing me away is your grand plan of keeping me?”

“I’ve always been an idiot.” He manages a smile, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“That’s true, but if you attempt to ditch me one more time I swear to god I’ll pour tar all over your car.”

The boy laughs and for a brief moment everything feels okay again, but it doesn’t last very long. “In our defense, we figured you’d be better off with the kids since you’re not really a fighter, ya know?” 

You drop his hand. “Excuse me?” 

Jonathan’s smile is gone. “What?”

“I’m not really a fighter? You’re kidding, right?”

“Hey, no I didn’t mean it like that–” Jonathan fumbles over his words, clearly taken aback by your sudden mood change. 

You step away from him. “How many times did I defend you against Lonnie? Better yet, remind me how we became friends in the first place. Wasn’t it because I threw milk at a bunch of idiots bullying you? Huh?”

“Y/N–”

“God, I can’t believe I almost let you get away with it again! I mean, do you even hear the bullshit that comes out of your mouth?” You deepen your voice, now doing a poor impersonation of him. “‘Hey, bug! You know I love you, right? Cool! Now, I’m gonna go do fuck all and ignore you and ditch you and then somehow turn it into me being a good guy because duh! I can never do any wrong!’”

“Please, just–”

“Did I get it right? It was a pretty good impersonation in my opinion. I mean, I am the one who has had to deal with this shit all fucking week. I think I'm an expert on this topic now.” 

Jonathan looks pained but you don’t fucking care anymore. You’ve reached your limit, you’re sick and tired of being treated like some delicate creature that’s incapable of taking care of itself. You literally slapped Tommy Hagan this afternoon in order to help Jonathan, yet here he is basically calling you weak. 

And yet Nancy is the fighter. She’s the one who gets to go along on the adventure while you’re sidelined because for some damn reason you’re always the second option. Never taking matters into your own hands, always the one left behind to clean up the mess and take care of those also discarded. 

You’re sick of it. 

You step closer to Jonathan again, so that you’re nose to nose, and whisper, “I’m tired of never being good enough.” 

And with that, you reach into his coat and snatch up his keys, a game you’ve always played with him but now has turned into a bitter taste in your mouth, and run back into the gym. Someone has to inform the kids of the plan, make sure they’ll be okay on their own. 

Dustin sees you approach and smiles, but when he notices the angry pace in your steps, he frowns. “Uh oh.”

“Yeah, uh oh.” 

“Jonathan again?”

You nod, still too angry to trust your words. “Yeah.” 

He notices the keys in your hand. “Where are you going?”

Mike and Lucas look over now, curious as to what’s happening. 

You sigh. “I’m going with Nancy and Jonathan to the Byers house, we’re going to kill the monster.” 

“Why the hell are you going?” Dustin exclaims while Mike shoutes “sick!” and Lucas mumbles “great, alone again”. El remains quiet, still resting. 

You flick your brother’s hat. “I have to, Dustin.”

“For Jonathan?” He shakes his head. “I like him, but aren’t you mad at him right now?”

“Is it just me, or is she always mad at him these days?” Mike whispers over to Lucas, who simply shrugs. 

“Girls, man.” 

You ignore them and focus on Dustin. “It doesn’t matter. He needs my help, and no one in the party gets left behind. Remember?”

“Y/N–”

“I love you,” you kiss the top of his head. “I promise I’ll be safe, just be careful, okay? I’m putting you in charge, so don’t let me down. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll see you in a few hours tops!”

Dustin tries to argue some more, but you quickly run back outside before he can get another word in. You feel horrible leaving him behind, but you know this is the right decision. If you can kill the monster, there’s less of a chance of the kids or Joyce and Hopper getting hurt. Jonathan and Nancy may be fine on their own, but there’s always power in numbers and they’ll need all the help they can get. 

You just… you have to help. You know this is what you’re supposed to be doing, even if it pains you to do so. Dustin and the kids are smart; as long as they stay at the school, they’ll be fine. 

In theory, that is.

Nancy and Jonathan are waiting for you outside. You push past them and march towards Jonathan’s care; they awkwardly follow after you. You unlock it, throw yourself into the backseat, and promptly dig through your backpack to make sure you have everything. 

The two teens get in a few minutes after you. Not one word is spoken as Jonathan starts the car and the three of you drive off, leaving Hawkins Middle behind. 

– 

You thought the car ride with Nancy and Jonathan from the funeral home had been tense, but this one? Downright painful. 

Jonathan has a tight grip on the steering wheel and keeps trying to catch your eye through the rearview mirror but you avoid his gaze. You’ve spent the last five minutes arranging and rearranging your backpack to give you something to do while Nancy has tried three times to make conversation to make this car ride bearable. 

“El seems nice.” 

“You said four words to her, Nancy.” You retort, switching open your switchblade once more to watch the moonlight dance off of its blades. 

“Right.” 

Nancy shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat. You know she realizes she’s once again upset the balance in your relationship with Jonathan. It was only an hour ago that she tried getting you to admit your feelings for him before convincing the boy to up and leave you. Sure, Jonathan made his own decision in the end, but damn. She could’ve at least pretended to want you around. 

She notices your knives and tries to spark conversation again. “I love the color of the handle, it’s beautiful.” 

“Thanks,” you switch the blades closed and sit up in your seat. “Anyways, you geniuses have a plan or were you just counting on ditching me and winging it from there?”

“Y/N–”

“No, Nancy. I insist, let’s talk about a plan. We’re here to kill a monster, right?”

She closes her mouth and frowns, turning to Jonathan for help, but he’s no use. He’s busy tapping his fingers against the wheel and praying that the world will just swallow him up whole. Too bad for him you’re a stubborn pain in the ass and would simply pluck him back up so you can torture him some more. 

Nancy sighs. “Well, Jonathan and I were thinking we use the supplies we got earlier and lure the monster to his place, then we kill it.” 

“Awesome plan, guys!” You say, your voice dripping with sickly sweetness that leaves them both feeling even more uncomfortable. “But may I suggest some actual details or shall we just bank off of this wonderfully dull and vague plan?” 

“Sure, Y/N. Tell us what you had in mind.” Nancy rubs her face tiredly, knowing she deserves this. 

“Great! I’m assuming we’re luring the monster with blood?” They nod at you, so you continue. “Okay, so before we lure it I think we should completely booby-trap Jonathan’s house. Nail the bear trap down onto the floor, make sure the floor is cleared of anything that could trip us up. Then, once we’ve got the house secured, we knick ourselves to draw some blood and pray to whatever god is up there that we can kill the thing.” 

You pause for a moment, remembering how all the Christmas lights had been unscrewed by Joyce earlier. “The lights, we need to fix them. The monster communicates through the lights so if we have them, then we can track it.”

“That all sounds great, bug.” Jonathan finally speaks up, ass kissing. 

“Thanks, pal. Still don’t have the bug privilege back, but I’m sure you simply forgot.” 

He gulps, once more going back to being silent as he drives you and Nancy to his house. 

Nancy again tries to diffuse the tension. “How do we even kill the monster though? I mean, will my bullets be enough?”

“I have this idea, but it’s… well, it’s out there.” You bite your lip, now feeling your cocky demeanor slipping. “If we can safely set fire to it, I think that’s our best bet.”

“Fire?” Jonathan exclaims, but Nancy shushes him. 

“I think you’re right.” 

“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me but do we really have to set fire to my house–”

Now it’s your turn to shush Jonathan. “This isn’t about that. I wouldn’t burn your house down, I already told you I’d just pour tar on your car whenever I get the chance. For now, I really do think the best thing to do is burn the monster alive. In every horror movie and book, fire always gets the job done.” 

Despite herself, Nancy lets out a soft chuckle as Jonathan parks the car, now at his house. “She’s right, Jonathan. And who burns down houses these days? Tar really is the best form of revenge.” 

“I’m flattered, Wheeler. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be off my shitlist in no time.” You tell her, patting her on the shoulder before getting out of the car. You quickly open up the trunk and gather the monster hunting supplies while Jonathan and Nancy take their time getting out. 

You let yourself into the Byers home using your own key to the place. It’s been nestled in between the key to your house and the spare key to Jonathan’s car on your keychain for a few years now. 

The first thing you get started on are the lights. There’s hundreds of them to get through, but you drop your supplies and begin screwing them in one by one. Nancy and Jonathan come in soon after and silently begin to help. 

No conversation is made besides the necessary comments about the prep work. You’re all too focused on the possibility of what could happen next; the danger of the situation has finally set in. After the lights have all been fixed, you instruct Jonathan to begin nailing the bear trap down while you and Nancy discuss where to pour the gasoline. You both agree to make a path from the living room to Will’s room. 

As Nancy pours the gasoline, you follow behind her and pick up any flammables. You weren't lying to Jonathan earlier, you really don’t want to burn his house down. While the house is wrecked, it’s still a home despite everything that’s happened in it. You practically grew up within its walls, you’d do anything to keep it as protected as possible. 

When you’re done, you watch Nancy load her gun. A shiver runs down our spine; she looks at ease with it, which you figure should be reassuring, but the gravity of everything leaves you feeling on edge. You leave her alone and walk into the kitchen where Jonathan is, now hammering a ton of nails into his bat. 

You begin to sharpen your blades next to him, still finding that you only feel secure by his side. The rhythmic sound of his hammering calms you, in a sense. It serves as a distraction. You know you insisted on coming, you don’t regret it and you know you’re stronger than everyone seems to give you credit for, but you’re also terrified. This isn’t just some adventure in the woods; this could kill the ones you love dearly. 

Once you’re both done preparing your weapons, the two of you walk to Will’s room and rig up a simple snare. Jonathan grabs a yo-yo and you pull up a chair to set it on. The idea is that when the string gets pulled, it’ll alert you that the monster has sprung the bear trap. It’s not the most efficient warning system, but it’ll have to do. 

The last thing to do is set the bear trap, which takes all three of you to achieve. Jonathan and Nancy hold down the edges with their body weight and you very carefully set the trap with your hand. You shake a bit as you do so, but you force your nerves down. You remind yourself that Jonathan thinks you’re too weak, too cowardly, you have to prove him wrong. 

When the bear trap clicks into place, you let out a harsh exhale and sink against the wall, your heart still pounding. Jonathan and Nancy copy you and the three of you sit in silence. You’re still shaking a bit, and Jonathan is next to you just as tense, but for the first time since you’ve met him you can’t reach out to grab his hand to steady yourself. He’s too far, both literally and figuratively. Even with him next to you, you couldn’t be more far apart. 

In the back of your mind, you hope the kids are alright. Hopefully they’re having a better night than you currently are. 

“C’mon,” you say after a few minutes, getting up to walk over to the living room. “We’ve done all we can, now we just have to draw some blood and be the prettiest bait in Hawkins.”

– 

Nancy and Jonathan decide to cut the palm of their hands, but you respectfully would rather die than have a matching scar with them. The idea makes you so uncomfortable you visibly cringe when Jonathan tells you the idea. “Yeah, no thanks. I think I’ll find somewhere else to cut.” 

He looks hurt by what you’ve said but doesn’t voice it. Instead, the three of you stand in the living room in a triangle facing each other and he begins reciting the plan. “Remember…”

Nancy goes first. “Straight into Will’s room and–” 

“Don’t step on the trap.” You finish.

Jonathan nods. “And then?”

“Wait for the yo-yo to move.” The girl says. 

“Then…” Jonathan flicks the lighter on.

You whistle low. “Let there be light…” 

“Right. Light.” The boy nods again. “Alright, we ready?”

“Ready.”

“Scar time.” 

Jonathan and Nancy bring their hands up and place their knives flat against their palms. You roll up your sleeve and place your own knife against the upper part of your arm, just below your shoulder, and take a deep breath. 

“On three,” Jonathan says. He begins counting and you all can’t seem to stop shaking. He senses your unease and looks up at you and Nancy. “You guys don’t have to do this.”

Nancy glares at him, her own voice shaky. “Jonathan, stop talking.”

You nod. “Yeah, what she said.”

Jonathan tries to argue, but Nancy squeezes her eyes shut and yells, “Three!”

You close your own eyes and slice at your arm, the pain immediate. You gasp out, never having been good with pain, but you know you have to do this for Will. The blood trails down your arm, dripping from your elbow onto the ground, and you watch as blood from Jonathan’s and Nancy’s own cuts falls onto the ground too. 

Well, at least it’ll be an easy scar to hide compared to theirs. 

“Fuck, that stings.” You say to break the silence, and Nancy nods her head in agreement. 

“Not the most pleasant feeling.” 

Jonathan guides the two of you over to the couch and grabs the first aid kit that you had prepared on the coffee table. He sits in the middle, leaving room for both you and Nancy on each side of him, but you’re still pissed at him and opt to sit on the floor in front of the couch.

Nancy begins to patch up his wound, and it takes everything within you not to reach over and help him yourself. It feels unnatural to watch someone else taking care of him, but the space between you still feels too vast to cross. 

You patch up your own cut while the two of them talk quietly. You wind a bandage tight around your arm, ensuring you won’t bleed through, and Jonathan watches above you with guilt in his eyes. Nancy is trying to reassure him that everything will be okay, but as he watches you struggle to tie the bandage he wonders if he’s fucked up more than just your friendship.

“Bug, let me help with that.” He leans down and ties your bandage before you can stop him. 

You glare at him, still having not said anything to Jonathan besides what was needed for preparation. Nancy distracts herself by cleaning up around his cut and your stomach twists into knots. This is all so miserable. 

“Y/N, I know you’re upset with me and you can go whenever. I won’t blame you, you’ve done enough for me.” Jonathan says, trying to catch your eye. 

You turn away and inspect your bandage, still reeling over the fact that he tied it for you. “I’m here for Will, and only Will.”

“Y/N…” There’s a hurt in his voice that almost makes you turn around to throw your arms around his neck and whisper a million apologies to him. To tell him everything, that you love him and that you’d do anything for him and that’s why you’re so terrified of how you feel. You know you’d burn yourself up if it meant he’d be taken care of, if it meant he was safe and happy and far away from anything that could harm him. You know you’d use up everything within you to love him. 

Instead, you remain silent.

After getting no response from you, Jonathan clears his throat and begins to say something about how the lights will serve as an alarm for the monster, trying to pretend that everything is okay, but he’s cut off by a sudden pounding on the door.

You all jump and your fingers tighten around your switchblade, ready to open it. As your heart pounds you think of all the possible ways the plan could go wrong. When you’re on possibility number twelve, a voice calls through the door. 

“Jonathan?”

“Is that… Steve?” You say out loud, in complete disbelief. 

Steve continues to pound on the door. “Are you there, man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk!”

You’re the first to react, standing up to run over to the door. You fling it open and step outside, making sure Steve won’t be able to see inside the house. When he sees you, he stumbles back a bit. “Henderson?”

His face is still bleeding from earlier and his hair is a mess, and yet there’s a softness to him that you haven’t seen before with him. “Steve, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Can I just talk to Jonathan real quick? I just… I want to apologize about what happened earlier, see if we can maybe–” His eyes land on your bandaged arm. You curse and roll down your sleeve, feeling like an idiot for forgetting to hide the wound before going outside. 

Steve reaches out to touch it, a hint of worry on his face and his voice is now full of concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

You shiver at his touch, it’s gentle as he skims along the bandage and inspects it for any other problems. You pull away, now hiding the wound. “It’s nothing, but you should really go.”

“I want to help you, Y/N. Do you need me to get you anything?” His face is so full of worry for you that it makes you ache. Then a thought occurs to him. “Wait, where’s Byers? Why isn’t he here to help you?”

You’re about to make up a lie, but Nancy flings the door open. “Steve, listen to me.”

He looks between the two of you in complete shock. “Okay, what–”

“You need to leave.” Nancy orders.

Steve looks at you. “I’m not trying to start anything, okay?”

“I know, but–” You get cut off by Nancy.

“I don’t care about that. You need to leave.”

Steve begins to plead with the girl and you step away a bit, not wanting to intrude. You feel bad for him, he looks so beat down by what’s happened today and you suppose that you can’t really blame him. After spending maybe a total of ten hours with Nancy and Jonathan, you also have come close to losing your mind. 

If you were with Jonathan, if you truly had him, you’d react the same as Steve. Begging for the girl he loves to listen to him, to give him another chance with the promise of him changing. 

“I just want to make things right.” Steve says, impressing you with his vulnerability. He’s openly admitting to his mistakes and taking accountability mere hours after the situation has occurred, leaving you both in awe of him and also saddened for him. He loves Nancy more than anything, you can hear it in his voice. 

He deserves better. 

As you’re thinking this, you see his eyes flicker down towards Nancy’s bandaged hand and his brows furrow. “What happened to your hand? Is that blood?” His eyes now flicker over to you again. “Why are you both hurt?”

“We’re clumsy?” You say as Nancy yanks her hand away from Steve.

“It was an accident.” She agrees. 

Steve looks between the two of you, now sensing that something else is wrong. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” Nancy insists, but something in Steve’s demeanor shifts. 

“Wait a second, did he do this to you? To Y/N?” His once soft voice is now filled with anger and you step in front of him. 

“Steve, it wasn’t Jonathan. You need to go, I promise I’ll explain everything later–” 

He grabs you by your side and gently moves you so that he can get past and shove through the door. Nancy yells at him to stop and tries to push him out, but she’s useless against his strength. When he manages to break in, he stumbles inside and scans over the house. 

“Shit!” You follow after him, your brain running a million miles a second trying to figure out how to explain everything to him. 

“What the fuck?” Steve mumbles, eyeing the bat with nails in it. “Y/N, what’s going on here?”

He’s looking to you for reassurance and you guess he assumes that the two of you are allies in this Jonathan and Nancy situation. You really wish you could explain, but Jonathan has grabbed him by the shoulders and is trying to push him outside. The two stumble around for a few seconds and you just helplessly watch. 

“Steve, there’s no time to explain, please just listen to Jonathan and get out of here!” You’re helping Jonathan now, trying to get Steve out the door and away from harm’s reach, but he’s still fighting back confused and lost as ever and you pity him. 

You hear a click and turn around, gasping when you see Nancy holding her gun up to Steve. “Woah, what the fuck Nancy?”

“What! What is going on?” Steve yells, now more panicked than anything else. 

While Jonathan has stepped away, you find yourself standing in front of Steve as if to somehow block the bullet. You can’t let him get hurt, he doesn’t have any part of this, he can still have a normal and happy life if he just leaves now. “Nancy, put the fucking gun down, this isn’t helping!”

Steve pleads with her as well and the two of you scream at the girl to just listen and not swing around loaded weapons, but Nancy remains firm in her stance. “You have five seconds to get out of here. I’m doing this for you.”

“Because holding a gun to his head is any better than telling him the truth?” You exclaim, entirely over the situation. 

As the four of you are arguing, the lights begin to flicker. Steve and Nancy don’t seem to notice, but you do. You look at Jonathan and say your first real words to him in hours. “Jonathan…”

He hears you and he runs over to your side, grabbing your hand as the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder. You feel your heartbeat race and you can feel him shaking beside you. He’s terrified, so are you, but his hand around yours manages to steady you. 

“Nancy!” Jonathan tries to get the girl’s attention, but she’s too busy counting down to hear him. 

He shouts at her again and the lights start to flicker more wildly and you draw your switchblade out, adrenaline coursing through you. It’s time. 

Jonathan yells once more and finally catches Nancy’s attention. “The lights!”

She whips her head around and curses, Jonathan, still tightly holding your hand, tugs you along so that you follow him as he secures his weapons and grabs the bat. “It’s here.”

“What’s here?” Steve is flailing around, utterly lost.

You all ignore him and now stand back to back in a triangle. Nancy holds up her gun, Jonathan wields his bat, and you flick your wrist to bring out your knives. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know!” 

The lights flicker rapidly and you feel overwhelmed. They were supposed to serve as a guide towards the monster, but there's no possible way to see which direction it’ll come from and for a fleeting moment you think you’ve made a huge mistake. 

Steve is still screaming, demanding answers, but you’re too busy scanning your surroundings to offer him some information. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going–”

The roof opens up, cutting Steve off, and you scream as the monster attempts to come down right above you. Jonathan shields you from the fallen debris and you cling onto him in utter fear. This isn’t real. This cannot be happening. 

Nancy begins to shoot at the thing while Jonathan guides you to safety. He brings you to the edge of the living room and holds your face in his hands, forcing you to really look at him for the first time all night. “Listen to me, stay here while I get Nancy.”

He kisses your forehead and then leaves, rushing over to Nancy to pull her away and guide her towards Will’s room. Steve stands next to you, frozen, and it forces you back to reality. The plan, you have to stick to the plan. 

You grab Steve’s hand and yank him so that he follows. The monster has dropped down now, a horrible creature on all fours that opens its gaping mouth to let out a horrible screech that you feel deep within your bones. This is what killed Barb. 

The four of you run to Will’s room and you only just barely have enough time to warn Steve about the bear trap. You look over your shoulder and shout, “Jump!” right as your ankle catches on its chains. 

You fall. Hard. 

Pain sears through your ankle and you try to get up, but any pressure on it sends flames through your entire body and you let out another scream. The monster catches up, looming over you, and you brace for your death. There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of this. 

You squeeze your eyes as the monster stalks close to you, its ugly mouth open and ready to kill you. Jonathan is screaming at you to get up, but Nancy is holding him back from helping. You’re relieved by this, knowing that someone has to be there for Will once this is all done. He’ll need his brother, and Nancy seems to understand this. You catch her eye and nod at her, sending a silent thank you. 

“Bug! No, let go of me! I have to help her, Nancy!” Jonathan’s voice becomes hoarse by how loud he screams, his voice breaking with fear and desperation. 

Then, right before the monster lunges at you, you feel a familiar pair of arms slide underneath your legs and pick you up. “What–”

Steve Harrington has swooped in to save you, picking you up as if you weigh nothing, ever the athlete, and swiftly jumps over the bear trap while screaming his head off. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

You’re so delirious from the pain in your ankle and the adrenaline pumping through your veins that you can’t help but let a laugh escape you. No fucking way is any of this real. Steve Harrington is carrying you bridal style into Will’s bedroom with Jonathan and Nancy as witnesses. 

What a life. 

Once you’re both secured in the room, Steve sets you down gently right as Nancy yells at him to shut up. As soon as Steve lets go of you, Jonathan is at your side and pulls you into a crushing hug. 

“Bug.” He breathes out against your ear, relief heavy. 

“I’m okay.” You tell him, threading your fingers through his hair. He’s shaking harder than ever, and holding onto you as if he’s scared he’ll lose you again. “I’m okay, bee.” 

He pulls away and his hands are all over you, checking everywhere for any other injuries. “Did it hurt you, are you bleeding? There should be a first aid kit–”

You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, which seems to calm him down a bit. “I’m fine, just twisted my ankle. If you help me up, I’m sure I’ll be able to stand again.” 

Jonathan quickly helps you to your feet and you lean against him for the extra support. While you put on a brave face for Jonathan, you’re terrified out of your fucking mind. You almost died. Jonathan is still holding your hand and he’s looking at you as if seeing you for the first time and you force yourself to look away. It’s the same look from the field days ago, when you thought he’d kiss you. 

You have to focus on what’s at stake.

How the hell are you guys supposed to kill this thing?

The monster screeches, breaking the moment between you and Jonathan, and he flicks his lighter on and forces you to stand behind him. Nancy holds up her gun and you bring your knives closer to your face, Steve standing weaponless behind you. 

You all wait, tense, for the monster. It stalks closer to the room, its awful growls alerting you of its proximity, but it doesn’t appear. 

“What’s it doing?” Nancy asks, frustrated. 

“I don’t know.” You respond, equally as frustrated and scared. 

Another few agonizing seconds pass, and you stare at the yo-yo and hope that it remains still. Then, the lights stop flickering and it becomes quiet. All you can hear is your blood roaring in your ears. 

Nancy looks around. “Do you hear anything?”

“No,” Jonathan shakes his head, inching closer to the door. 

“Wait!” You tug at your still interlocked hands. You pick up his bat that had been thrown on the ground and hand it to him. “Be careful. Please.”

He gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go, accepting the bat.

As Jonathan pokes his head out to see if the monster is outside, Steve bends his head down and whispers in your ear, “Romantic.”

“Shut. Up.” You hit him in the chest, fearfully watching your best friend to make sure he doesn't die. When he motions an all clear, Nancy follows him outside, then you, then Steve. 

The house is silent and your heart sinks when you see that the bear trap has been left untouched. You realize with a horrible gut wrench that the monster is smarter than the three of you had anticipated. 

So much for your plan, then.

“It’s smarter than we thought.” 

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees with dismay. 

He stalks against the wall towards the living room and you all follow in a single file line. You do your best to stick close to the wall but you limp with every step. Your ankle is definitely out of commission for now. Great. 

All of you are on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It couldn’t have been that easy, there’s no possible way that the monster simply up and left. You enter the living room, which has gotten even more wrecked due the monster. The wallpaper has been torn off of some parts of the wall and you see papers scattered everywhere. 

“Shit…” you mumble, kicking at a shredded wallpaper strip. 

In the corner, Steve has started to hyperventilate and mumble to himself. “This is crazy, this is so crazy, this is fucking crazy.” 

You limp over to him and grab his shoulders, making him face you. “Steve, hey. It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Y/N, what the hell just happened?” 

“It’s… complicated. For now, can you trust me that everything will be okay?” 

“Of course I trust you, it’s just…” He nods, his eyes softening. You lessen your hold on him and give him a smile, he seems to be calming down. Then, he looks around the room and seemingly remembers where he is. “This is crazy!” 

Steve lunges for the phone on the wall and tries to call for help. 

You stumble after him, the pain in your ankle slowing you down. “Steve, wait–”

Nancy gets to him first, grabbing the phone out of his hand and throwing it across the room. He looks at her, shocked. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“It’s going to come back!” Nancy yells at him, and you wince at the way she treats him. You know Steve will only listen to her, but she could at least be nicer about the whole situation. The three of you have had some time to process everything happening, Steve was thrown into the deep end. 

“You could be a little nicer,” you mumble, and Nancy sends you a glare. You raise your hands up in surrender. “Sorry.” 

“Steve, you need to leave. Right now.”

He looks so overwhelmed and you give him a pitying look. He stares at you, reminiscent of the way he looked at you earlier in the alley, silently begging you to say something, anything, but again you can only shake your head at him. You won’t force him to stay, it wouldn’t be fair.

“Y/N, please…” He tries one more time to get you on his side, but you can’t. Frustrated by your lack of response, Steve groans. “Fuck it!” 

He runs out the door. 

You’ll admit that you’re a bit disappointed, but you also understand. Who in their right mind would stay? 

You and Nancy share a look before the lights begin to flicker again. Dread fills you. “Fuck…”

Jonathan is back by your side and he and Nancy again form a triangle with you, all your backs pressed together as you desperately try to locate the monster. You all stumble in a circle, searching for any sign of the thing, but there’s nothing. 

“Where is it?” Nancy gasps out.

“Just fucking show yourself!” You shout, just wanting this all to be over with. Your body is drained from living in a state of fear for so long. 

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Jonathan echoes your taunts. 

Suddenly the lights turn off and you’re left alone in complete darkness. Faintly you can hear the monster’s familiar growl approaching from behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, the air stands still. It’s back. Before you can react, it pounces on Jonathan. 

“Jonathan!” You scream alongside Nancy. Desperation takes over you and before you can even process what’s happening, you ignore the pain in your ankle and jump onto its back, stabbing repeatedly at it. 

Your blades only bounce off of its thick skin and the monster struggles to get you off. You hold on as tight as you can, shouting and kicking at it so that it can’t hurt him, but then it opens its mouth and for a horrifying moment you’re afraid that Jonathan will die.

“No!” You scream even louder than before and double down on your effort, stabbing and slashing as much as you possibly can to try and create some damage, but your arms are starting to ache and your ankle now feels like it’s on fire. 

“Nancy, its skin is too thick!” You sob out, nearing complete exhaustion. Then, just as you’re about to collapse from exhaustion, gunshots fill the room. 

Nancy begins to shoot at the monster and with the help of your blades, the two of you manage to pierce its skin, but even then the damage is minimal. It’s not enough, it won’t be enough. Tears stream down your face and the monster only gets closer to Jonathan, so you do the only thing you can think of: you crawl onto the top of its body and stab at its mouth. 

The monster lets out a blood curdling scream and flings you off of its back. You go flying across the room and land against the wall with a groan. All the air has been knocked out of you and your ribs are definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. Every part of you aches, but you manage to lift your head up and blearily process the monster now approaching Nancy as she continues to shoot at it, but it remains unphased. 

You crawl over to Jonathan, who is still laying on the ground. He’s motionless, and you fight everything within you not to break down and sob. You have to keep going, he has to be alive. As you reach Jonathan and frantically check for a pulse, the monster has now cornered Nancy and her gun seems to be out of bullets.

It’s over. You know it is. 

Right as you’ve accepted your fate, a screaming Steve Harrington wielding Jonathan’s bat once again manages to save the day. 

He hits the monster with the bat, effectively saving Nancy and you’re so impressed with his batting skills that you almost find him attractive with how easily he hits and dodges the monster. However, you file those thoughts away for later and finally manage to wake Jonathan up. He startles with a gasp and you check over his chest, scared he may have gotten pierced by the monster’s claws. 

“I’m fine, we need to help.”

You help each other up and you have to lean heavily against him due to your ankle. You bull riding the monster has only made the sprain worse; you’re too afraid to look down and see the damage that’s been done. 

As the two of you hobble over to Nancy, Jonathan looks at you. “Is Harrington really here right now?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.”

Steve manages to lure the monster closer and closer to the bear trap and you watch him in awe. He’s quick footed and so sure of himself, the complete opposite of the boy from only ten minutes ago who had run out of the house screaming his head off. Now, Steve is swift with his hits and even twirls the bat in his hand to show off. The small act causes you to smile despite the horrible circumstances. 

By the time you and Jonathan are up and recovered, Steve has successfully led the monster straight into the trap. It clamps around the monster’s foot and it screeches, flailing around in the trap. Steve still has his bat held up, now frantically looking over to everyone else. “He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!”

“Jonathan, now!” Nancy screams, motioning over at him to use his lighter. 

Jonathan listens, using his free hand to flick the lighter on and then drops it onto the ground, right into the trail of gasoline. Immediately the monster goes up in flames, letting out horrible noises. You all shield your faces from the flames and Jonathan pulls you closer into him, still having yet to let go of you; you feel yourself sink into his side as you watch the monster wither away.

“Bug, I have to get the fire extinguisher, do you think you can stand on your own?” Jonathan asks you, his voice soft but urgent. 

You quickly nod and brace yourself for his departure. “Yeah, go.” 

He lets go of you as gently as possible before running to grab the extinguisher. When he has it, he orders everyone to get back and then smothers the flames. It takes a couple seconds, but eventually the fire gets put out, leaving behind an awful stench that makes everyone cough and gag. 

“Holy fuck,” you wheeze out, hunched over. “Burnt monster smells horrible.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve coughs out. 

Nancy covers her face with her jacket. “Where did it go?”

“It has to be dead.” Jonathan pants against the wall, looking like he’s three seconds away from passing out. “It has to be.”

“It fucking better be dead.” You mumble, hobbling closer to see what exactly was left behind. When you get closer and see the giant lump of melted skin all over the bear trap, you gag. “Oh god. Yeah, okay. It’s dead.”

Everyone sighs with relief. 

Then, you notice a Christmas light above you flicker on. Your heart stops, terrified that the monster has somehow survived, but then a second one turns on, then a third, until a path seems to be guiding you towards the living room. 

You all follow, cautious but curious, but these lights don’t feel threatening. There’s an energy to them, a comforting one that leaves you breathless. When you get to the living room, tears form in your eyes, now understanding what this all is. You look at Jonathan, who also seems to be thinking what you are. 

It’s Joyce, you know it is. 

“Mom,” he breathes out. 

You limp over to him and grab his hand. He turns to you, his eyes shining with an appreciation that he only ever has for you. He seems to be drinking you in, as if now realizing just how close the two of you came to dying tonight. You’re doing the same, thankful that he’s alive and standing next to you despite everything. There’s so much the two of you want to say, but as always the words aren’t needed. You understand each other perfectly, the balance between you centered once more. 

You put your head on Jonathan’s shoulder and he brings his hand to your hair to softly stroke it. The two of you stand like that for a second, breathing each other in and enjoying the tenderness after such a miserable day, before you slowly break apart and follow the lights going outside. 

The porch light flickers and Nancy stands next to you, watching it with uncertainty. “Where’s it going?”

“I don’t think it’s the monster.” Jonathan tells her. 

“It’s Will.” You don’t know how you know this, or what makes you feel so certain that you’re right, but somehow you know that you are. Somewhere deep within you, you feel the faint outline of hope flicker. 

A new silence surrounds the four of you at your words, and for once there’s hope between you all. Then, after a minute or so of silence, everyone begins to head back inside. Steve first, then Nancy, and finally Jonathan, leaving you alone with the crisp early winter air.

You take a deep breath, the cold air serving as a reminder that you’re alive. You let it fill your lungs until you can’t breathe in anymore, then you release the air through an exhale and feel your body settle into its exhaustion. This is the first time you’ve had a moment to yourself, so you let the exhaustion weigh upon you like a warm blanket. 

Will is safe, you can feel it. Despite everything, he’s safe and alive. Jonathan is too, still your best friend regardless of all the unspoken words between the two of you. Dustin is at the school with the kids, away from danger. Everything is okay, it’ll be okay. 

You let the moment wash over you, incredibly grateful to be lucky enough to have survived it all. Everyone you love and hold close to you is safe. You didn’t fuck up this time. God, you did it. 

Jonathan comes running out after a while, his face alight with joy and he crashes into you and picks you up to twirl you around. You laugh, loud and freely, and bury your face in his hair as he continues. “Bee, stop! Put me down, you dummy!” 

He does as he’s told, but doesn’t let go of you once your feet are on the ground. “My mom just called, they saved Will. He–he’s in the hospital, he’s okay.” 

You squeal and throw your arms around Jonathan again, squeezing him so hard that you’re afraid you'll hurt him, but he simply laughs and squeezes you just as tight. Tears come again, but this time they’re happy ones, and if it weren’t for your ankle you’d be jumping up and down right now. 

Jonathan’s laughter dies down and he cups your chin around his fingers so that you look up at him. “You did it.” 

“We did it, bug.” You softly push against him. You can’t take all the credit. 

His eyes are shining again, you haven’t seen him this happy in so long, you get lost in it. His face is lit up and his smile is back and you’re so in love with him that it claws against your throat and threatens to spill out in excess.

A beat of silence passes and Jonathan just soaks your presence in. You can’t quite read his face, but for once this doesn’t frighten you. You enjoy it, you relish in the fact that he’s still yours yet now forming into someone new and lovely and wonderful. 

“You never gave up.” He whispers at last, adoration in his voice. 

“Never.” 

“You never left me.” 

“Never.” You breathe out, the word so simple with such heavy weight behind it. 

The moment is so raw, so tender, and Jonathan is giving you that look again, the one that leaves you feeling like the sun itself has settled upon you and kissed your cheek. His eyes flick down to your lips and you smile, taunting him to lean in. He seems to understand, giving you his own teasing smile before leaning in. You lean in as well, every part of you buzzing, and right before your lips touch his, Steve bursts through the door.

“Jonathan, dude, do you have like, any food in the house?” He asks, completely oblivious to what he’s just interrupted. 

You and Jonathan break apart, laughing the tension away. He ducks his head down, clears his throat, and turns to Steve. “Sorry, man. Been a little busy this week for grocery shopping.”

Steve’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Oh shit, right. Sorry, okay. Uh… Well, I’ll be inside, I guess.” 

“We’ll be in shortly.” You tell Steve. You want to be frustrated by his timing, but something tells you that you’ll have all the time in the world to tell Jonathan how you feel. Now just isn’t the time. 

– 

The moment you arrive at the hospital, Jonathan sprints out of the car and straight towards the front desk to find out where Will is. You and Nancy follow behind, figuring you won’t be able to see Will for a while since you’re not blood related, so the two of you wish Jonathan goodbye and head towards the waiting room. 

Steve lags behind, obviously unsure where to go. Nancy immediately walks inside, but you notice his hesitation and nudge his shoulder. “I’m sure that the cut on your eyebrow needs to be looked out. Let’s go sit, okay?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah, sure. Totally. Let’s go sit in a room full of people who probably hate me. No biggie.”

“Either come or don’t.” You shrug. “But the way I see it, you can start mending some metaphorical wounds while you wait in there.”

You don’t wait for Steve to figure out what to do, you know that Dustin is somewhere inside the waiting room and you’re buzzing to see him and the rest of the kids. You hobble inside, still very much in pain due to your injuries, but the moment you see your brother it all fades away. 

He runs into your arms and almost knocks you down with the force. Dustin clings onto you, mumbling over and over again how sorry he is. 

“Hey, wait a second,” you pull him away and crouch down, groaning a bit at the pain. “What are you sorry about? What happened?”

You look around the room and see everyone there. Nancy, Hopper, the kids, Steve, even Nancy’s parents, but there’s someone missing…

“El,” you breathe out. 

Dustin’s lip trembles and he begins to cry. You soothe him, grabbing his hand to bring him over to the seats and sit between him and Mike. Lucas is to the left of Dustin and you can’t help but notice how all the boys have dried tears in their eyes. 

When they’re ready, you have the kids explain what happened, and the more they tell you, the more guilty you feel. You should’ve been there for them, you left them all alone with that monster. You got Will back, and yet you’ve lost El as a result. It seems that no matter what you do, it’ll never quite be enough in the end. 

“It’s not your fault.” You tell Dustin, who still keeps apologizing. It was you who had left him in charge, you’re why El ended up vanquished by the monster. “You did everything you could. I shouldn’t have left you guys all alone, but I’m proud that you all took care of one another, okay?”

He sniffs and nods his head, but you know he doesn’t believe you. All the boys are somber; you know it’ll take time for them to recover. So, you do what you do best, you console them. You hold their hands and rub their backs and offer your spare comics in your bag. You do whatever you can to comfort them, to reassure them that they’re safe now and that no one will hurt them, but the light in their eyes has dimmed. 

They’ll never be the same again. 

And El… she had been so young, you don’t think you’ll ever not feel the heavy weight of guilt whenever you think of her. She had been so sweet and had trusted you. 

You should’ve been there, you wish you could’ve saved her.

Steve watches from his seat across from you. He listens in as you comfort the boys, taking care of them in such a natural way. He admires this softer side of you, one he hasn’t quite seen before. Sure, you’ve always been gentle and sincere, but watching you with the kids is something special in itself. You manage to get them to laugh, you offer them your shoulder to cry or sleep on, and you read aloud to them stories from your comics and Steve finds himself drawn towards your interactions with the kids. 

It’s sweet, something delicate and lovely, and Steve admires everything that you are. When he sees you awkwardly stand up and stumble over to the vending machines in the hall, Steve finds himself following after you. 

-

“Bitch!” You slam the palm of your hand against the vending machine in vain. The bag of chips hangs by the little spiral, taunting you. 

“That’s not a very nice word, Henderson.” 

You turn and see Steve, leaning against the wall with a fond expression. “You stalking me?”

“Nah, just wanted to watch you fight against a vending machine.”

“Ha,” you snort, turning back to the machine. “Unless you can help me get this last chip bag, you’re free to go sit back down.”

You mean it to be a joke, not expecting Steve to actually listen, but he’s at your side within a second. “Step back, let Steve handle her.” 

“What–”

Steve motions for you to move, so you reluctantly do as you’re told. Once you’re out of the way, Steve claps his hands, stretches out his neck, and then begins to aggressively shake the vending machine. 

“That is so not what you’re supposed to do–”

Suddenly the bag drops down from the hook and into the retrieval slot. Steve reaches inside, grabs the bag, and then dangles it in the air. “Tada!” 

You laugh and grab the bag from him. “Okay, I’ll admit, that was impressive.” 

“What can I say? I’m charming like that.” 

“Sure,” you smile at him, neither of you have moved yet. He’s still standing in front of you with that cocky smile on his face that’s slowly started to warm on you. You truly do understand why so many girls have fallen for him. If you ever saw Steve on the street, a stranger passing by, you’d fall a little bit in love with him yourself.

The thought startles you. “Well, uh…”

“Yes?” Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling. 

“Thank you for the chips. The kids haven’t eaten anything in hours, so…” You wave the three bags in your arms. “Gotta keep 'em fed.”

“Wait a second, there’s only three bags there. Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“I only had enough money for the boy’s chips.” You say, feeling suddenly sheepish. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just eat a few pieces from them and wait until we get home.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, no.”

You frown at him, confused as he rustles through his jean pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I don’t want your money–”

He doesn’t listen and simply puts the cash into the vending machine and punches in a few numbers. Slowly, one by one, multiple different bags of sweets and chips come falling down within the machine. Once the last one has dropped, Steve bends down and offers the huge stash to you. 

“A feast, on me.” He winks at you and you can’t help but blush. 

“T–thanks, I guess.” You now carefully balance the rest of the snacks in your arms, the mound almost blocking your view. You’re not sure how much Steve just paid, but with all these snacks you and the kids will surely be well fed. 

Steve shrugs, and if you weren’t so tired you’d think the blush on his face was a real one. “It’s the least I can do, all things considered.”

His words give you pause. You know he’s referencing earlier today, back in the alley where fists slammed against skin and he had dragged you away from your best friend, but the memory feels like years ago. So much has happened since then, Steve has saved your life since then. 

“Steve…” Your ankle is starting to sting again from standing for so long, so you adjust your footing and try to figure out what you want to say. “I never got to thank you back at Jonathan’s.”

“Thank me?” His face scrunches in confusion in a sickeningly cute way that it almost distracts you.

“Yes. You saved my life tonight, Steve. I won’t ever forget that.” 

“Oh…There’s no need to thank me. I mean, what are friends for?” Steve freezes and clears his throat. “I mean, shit. We aren’t friends, you keep saying that. Sorry. You know what I mean.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends?

“Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused. 

“Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!”

“We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted.

Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

Steve starts moving around in what you can only guess is a happy dance. “Sweet! Does this mean I get a cool nickname, too?”

“A nickname?” A bag of chips threatens to fall from your arms, but Steve catches it before it can land on the ground and takes a few more snacks off of your hands. 

He readjusts the snacks he now has so that he can carry them easier. “Yeah, I mean. Byers has one, why can’t I?”

You don’t think you’ll ever stop feeling so thrown every time Steve mentions a small detail about you that he’s somehow come to notice. He has a habit of doing that, surprising you by how much he seems to pay attention to you. You thought that no one ever had before, but Steve continues to prove you wrong. 

“I’ll tell ya what,” you begin to walk back towards the waiting room, careful to step carefully to not drop anything or upset your ankle. “Let’s see how this ‘friends’ thing works out, then I’ll decide what nickname fits you best. Deal?”

Steve thinks for a moment and follows. “Hmm. I don’t know, I think I’ll need some type of precaution to make sure you give me a nickname in the end. I want one, Y/N. I’m so serious right now.”

You laugh at his pleading tone. “I can add you to my baking list. Whatever I bake, you’ll get a piece of it. Is that better?”

“God, yes!” Steve punches the air and cheers. 

You’re smiling so much that your face aches. You haven’t felt this light and carefree in so long, you’d almost forgotten what it’s like. The two of you don’t say anything else as you walk back to the waiting room, though Steve seems to slow down so that you don’t hurt your ankle keeping up, though you still let out a few winces and groans.

When you’ve arrived back at your seat, Steve sets down the snacks and runs off without another word. You’re confused by his sudden departure but don’t think much of it. Instead, you wake the boys up and show them your array of snacks, which wakes them up immediately. 

You’re mediating a fight between Mike and Lucas over who gets the bag of Chips Ahoy when a nurse interrupts. “Excuse me, ma’am. This young man over here told me I should come over and check out your ankle?”

The woman smiles and you look past her and see Steve sheepishly waving from his seat across from you. You’re stunned. Had he really gone out of his way to ensure your ankle gets treated?

You shake the thoughts out of your head and inform the woman all she needs to know. You tell her how you’d fallen and what type of pain you feel when you stand up. She inspects the ankle, her fingers cold but kind, and within a few minutes has diagnosed you with a sprained ankle. 

“All you can really do is stay off of it for a few weeks while it heals. I can go and get you some crutches, if you’d like?” She asks, rolling her gloves off and tucking them back into her pocket.

You nod. “If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great.”

The nurse leaves with the promise of being back soon. In the meantime she instructs you to keep your ankle elevated, so you prop it against the coffee table and wait. You’re annoyed that you even have to have crutches, but then you think of Barb, of El. You’re luckier than you should be. 

– 

After an hour or so, Jonathan opens the door to the waiting room. He spots you and Mike talking softly with each other and whistles over to catch your attention. When Mike looks up, Jonathan nods at him and the boy scrambles out of his seat. 

“Guys! Guys! He’s up, Will is up!” Mike shakes awake Lucas and Dustin, who had been cuddling on the seats fast asleep. “Will’s up!”

Once they’re awake, they quickly follow after Mike and the three boys are gone in an instant, sprinting down the hall towards Will’s room. Clearly they’re eager to see their friend. 

You do your best to get up as fast as possible, but your new crutches serve more as a nuisance rather than an aid. As you struggle to get up, somehow knocking over the mountain of snacks, Steve rushes over. 

He grabs the crutches and offers you his hand. “Here, careful.”

“Thanks,” you awkwardly accept his hand and get up. Jonathan watches from the doorway, a curious look on his face. Nancy does the same from her seat, not saying a word as she watches Steve gently help you navigate the waiting room with your injury. 

Jonathan holds the door open for you and takes over once you’re out the door. He grabs the crutches from Steve and is now the one to hold your hand, balancing you. “I can take it from here, Harrington.”

“Right, yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his head and coughs. “I’ll just… yeah.” 

He heads back inside and you and Jonathan watch as he leaves. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jonathan turns to you. “Are you two friends now or something?”

“We almost died tonight, bee. I think it’s safe to call Steve a friend now.”

Jonathan bites his lip, though there’s a far off look in his eye that leaves you feeling like you’ve missed something in the conversation. “Guess that’s true. Anyways, let’s get you to Will.”

By the time you make it to the room, the boys have swarmed around Will and are telling him everything he’s missed this week. He’s listening eagerly as they’re telling him about El, but when he sees you enter the room, his eyes light up and he tries to sit up. 

“Y/N!” Will calls out, pure excitement in his voice. 

You practically fall over in your haste to get to him. The second you’re close enough, you collapse onto his bed and give him the tightest hug you possibly can without hurting him. He feels so small against you, smaller than he’s ever felt before, and his sunken eyes and pale skin make you want to cry. 

But he’s alive and here and in your arms once again, happy and wonderful and safe. 

“Little bee,” you try not to cry, but tears are thick in your voice. “I missed you.”

Will manages a weak smile and shrugs, trying to play off the gravity of the situation. “Took a little detour home.” 

You laugh and ruffle his hair. “At least you came home, that’s all that matters.”

“Ahem,” Mike obnoxiously clears his throat, effectively ending your moment with Will. “You’re hogging Will, move over.” 

You laugh again and move away, allowing the boys to resume their millions of updates. You maneuver your crutches and walk over to Jonathan, who is standing by the door. He’s looking at the boys and Will with a soft smile on his face and you join him, standing side by side as you watch your boys finally come together again. 

Then, you feel a pair of eyes on you and you turn around. Nancy is leaning against the doorway behind you; she looks frail and distraught. There’s a sadness in her eyes as she watches the kids. You know that watching the boys reunite with their friend must remind her of Barb. She never got her happy reunion. 

You feel awful for the girl, so when her bittersweet smile drops and she turns to leave the room, you nudge Jonathan to make him aware of the situation. He sees her fleeing and begins to follow after her, but he stops. 

“What are you waiting for? Go.” You tell him, knowing it’s for the best. 

He shifts his weight, uncertain. “Are you sure?”

You’re not sure how to decipher the hidden meanings underneath those three words, but you find that you’re exhausted trying to keep reading between the lines. The feelings you’ve kept buried bubble to the surface, but you remind yourself that he loves Nancy, despite your weird moments of almost with him. There’s something there between you and Jonathan, you both can feel it, but it feels too raw and fragile to bring into the light. 

Without having to ask, you know that Jonathan will choose her. 

It breaks your heart, but you look over at Dustin and Will, who are laughing about some joke while Joyce gazes at them fondly, and you know that you can’t lose this. Maybe Jonathan knows this, too. The small family you’ve built together, it’s too precious to ruin. 

Joyce and your boys, you can’t lose them. They’re yours, and Jonathan is yours in a way that you can’t quite keep to yourself forever, but for now it’s enough. You approach Joyce, grab her hand and give her a tired smile, and the smile she returns to you reminds you that this is more than enough for you. 

You turn to Jonathan, pushing down your feelings once more in favor of appreciating the fact that Will is looking at you again, alive. “Go, bee.” 

Jonathan gives you one last look. You study his face for a moment, watching as it shifts from confusion, to hurt, then finally into acceptance. You’ll never be sure of what exactly he’d been thinking in that moment, but it seemed to have been enough for him, too.

He smiles, lets out a deep breath, and then leaves.

The door closes softly behind him. 

– 

A month later you find yourself in the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, tired from your shift at Bookstrordinary but excited to pick up your brothers. Somehow, even after missing three consecutive shifts last month, Mrs. Waters refused to fire you. 

But Jonathan? He hadn’t been so lucky. His boss fired him from the Hawk, but he hadn’t been too upset. He still drives you to and from work, so you suppose things could be worse. 

It’s late, but the two of you take your time driving to the Wheeler’s. Nothing much has changed between you two following Will’s reappearance. Sure, maybe you’re at his house more just to make sure Will is adapting well, but besides that everything seemed to go back to normal. 

Well, almost normal. 

Steve appeared at your job a few days after your conversation in the hospital. He had surprised you when you walked in, and when you asked what he was doing in a bookstore, Steve simply shrugged and said, “You can’t figure out my nickname if we don’t hang out, right? So, I’m here.”

He had become a regular at the store, stopping by whenever he could, and slowly the two of you became good friends. You’ve come to enjoy Steve’s presence, something that you never thought would ever happen. But he keeps you company as you work, he wanders around and explores the comics and books you recommend to him, and it’s nice having someone to goof off with. 

Plus, you did promise to add him to your baking list, so he’s also become your taste tester who happily eats any creation you bring in for him.

As for Nancy…

That was more of a sore subject for Jonathan. 

There was a few weeks following Will’s reappearance that you thought Jonathan and Nancy would get together, but it never happened. You’re not quite sure why, maybe it had something to do with Jonathan’s hesitation of approaching her, but it had crushed him when you and he saw Nancy and Steve making out in the hall as if nothing bad had ever happened. 

The way Jonathan’s face crumbled when he saw the couple only solidified that he’d never be yours, but you comforted him anyways. You told him he deserved better and then dragged him away. It’d taken him a few days, but eventually Jonathan was able to fake a smile again. 

You haven’t spoken about it since that day, but you leave your window open most nights for him to crawl in. The nightmares from that night fighting the monster plague you both, and the loneliness feels a little heavier than usual, but at least you have each other. 

“Jonathan! Y/N! Come in, the boys are downstairs.” Mrs. Wheeler answers the door, letting the two of you in. “And Y/N, I love that sweater on you.”

You thank the woman. “It was a gift from my mom. She claims I need to up my wardrobe, whatever that means.”

“Well, I think she has lovely taste.” 

“I’ll let you know you think so!” You open the basement door and motion for Jonathan to go down first. 

When he reaches the bottom of the steps, Jonathan makes a face. “Woah, what’s that smell? Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?”

“My vote is farting.” You say, hopping down the last step. Your ankle has mostly healed by now, but sometimes if you land on it wrong it makes a weird clicking noise followed by some pain, but you choose to pretend that it’s normal. 

The boys laugh and Lucas points at your brother. “Oh, that’s just Dustin. He farted.”

He begins making fart noises with his mouth and you and Dustin share a look. “Very mature, Lucas.”

The boy continues to sing and make fart noises and you can’t believe that this is your life. You’re standing in a smelly basement while picking up your stubborn brother all while simultaneously enjoying the fact that you get to call this your life. 

Jonathan calls over to Will to grab his things, so you follow suit and gently berate Lucas. “Alright, that’s enough. I gotta get Dustin home.”

“What, I thought I got to stay–”

“Jonathan is our ride and I made cookies, so let’s go.”

The moment the word “cookies” leaves your mouth, Dustin hops up and collects his things without any further argument. 

Once he’s ready, he and Lucas play wrestle as they say goodbye. While they’re distracted, you walk over to Mike and discreetly hand him a container full of double fudge brownies. You’d specifically made them for him, knowing they were his favorite, because you noticed how hard it’s been for him to adjust to El being gone. He really cared about her, anyone could see that. 

Mike’s eyes widen and he throws his arms around you. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You pat his back. “Anytime, Wheeler.”

Dustin breaks away from Lucas and runs up the stairs, so you take that as your cue to leave. 

Upstairs, Jonathan and Will are talking to Mrs. Wheeler. When they see you enter, the woman turns to you and asks if you’ll be bringing over your usual round of holiday treats. “Of course, I’ll get started on them tomorrow. You guys still like the sugarbread cookies?”

“If you make them, I think I’ll die of happiness.” Mrs. Wheeler informs you, and you laugh and tell her that you’ll have them ready as soon as possible. 

You bid her goodbye, Dustin now by your side, and you follow Jonathan and Will to the front door. Right before you open the door, Nancy calls Jonathan’s name from the top of the stairs. 

“Hey, Jonathan, wait up!” 

You, Dustin, and Will stand awkwardly in the back while Nancy hands Jonathan a wrapped gift and wishes him a merry Christmas. They share an awkward exchange since Jonathan hadn’t gotten her anything, but Nancy assures him that it’s fine. The interaction is painful to watch as Nancy doesn’t spare you a single glance. Dustin and Will look at you uncertainly when she kisses Jonathan’s cheek, but you ignore them and pretend to be interested in a Christmas decoration on the table.

This will never get any easier. 

“You ready?” Jonathan turns back to you guys, a blush on his face, and all you can do is silently nod. 

In the car you sit in the back with Dustin, who squeezes your arm in reassurance. He’s come to understand your complex feelings for Jonathan and has pieced together Nancy’s involvement. While he’s never outright consoled you, he’s shown his support in other small and wonderful ways. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, and Dustin smiles. 

“We all buckled up?” Jonathan asks as he starts up the car. 

“Yes, captain.” You mock salute. 

Will giggles at you before he sees the gift and looks up at Jonathan. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

You and Dustin lean forward so you can see what’s in the box. When Will unwraps a beautiful, and no doubt expensive, camera, you gasp. The bitterness and hurt from moments ago vanishes. This gift is from Steve, you know it is, and something warm settles deep within your bones. 

You think about last month, how you’d told him not everyone can just afford a camera. 

Seems like Steve listened. 

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all. 

– 

A week later you knock on the Byers’ door, a giant container of your annual holiday cookies in your arms. 

“Bug!” Jonathan answers the door with an excited smile on his face. His new camera is in his hands and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already taken a photo of you with your crooked earmuffs and oversized box of cookies.

He’s been using the camera ever since he got it. There’s now multiple pictures of you, always unaware or caught off guard, now hanging in the kitchen. It makes you blush to think about. 

“You didn’t even give me a chance to smile.” You complain, shoving your way inside. It’s snowing and you’re freezing. 

Joyce grabs the container to help you as soon as she sees you. “Here, honey. I’ve got it.”

You thank her and walk over to Will, who is drawing at the kitchen table. “Hey little bee. Whatcha drawing?”

“Hi, Y/N.” He slides over his picture and you’re shown a quick sketch of you and the party, this time fighting what appears to be a misshapen dog. “It’s a Dire Wolf, we’re fighting it in our latest campaign.”

“Ah, I see. Looks fluffy, though. Can’t possibly be a dangerous creature.”

Will rolls his eyes at you. “This is why you don’t play with us.”

“Careful, you’re sassing the girl who has just bravely ridden her bike through the snow to deliver her famous Christmas cookies.”

Will is out of his seat in an instant, running over to his mom, who has just placed the container on the counter. “Did you make the oatmeal raisin cookies?”

“Duh,” you snort. 

“And the chocolate chip?”

“I sure did.” You stand next to him and point at a new cookie you’re trying out this year. “This batch is a caramel banana one. Steve seemed to like it and I think it’s pretty good, so I hope you do too.”

Jonathan swoops over and kisses your head. “Of course we’ll like it, bug.”

“He’s right, you know. We always love whatever you make us, honey.” Joyce informs you, her mouth now full of cookies. 

“I’d hope so, this is like my fifth year making these for you guys. It’d be awkward if you hated my baking.” You say, now securing your earmuffs back on your head. “Anyways, I should get going. It’s Christmas, my mom won’t want me out too long.” 

Joyce looks out the window and frowns. “Did you really bike here in this weather?”

“It wasn’t too bad, I’ll be fine–”

“No. Jonathan, grab your keys and drive Y/N home.” She stares you down, daring you to argue with her, but you don’t. You know better than to argue with Joyce Byers. 

Once Jonathan has his keys, you say goodbye to everyone and wish them a merry Christmas. Jonathan throws your bike in his trunk and soon you’re off on the road. The drive is quiet but cozy. The snowflakes fall in a pretty spiral and there’s a soft song playing on the radio. 

Sometimes, if you close your eyes, you can pretend that the events from last month never happened. Will never disappeared. You never discovered that you love Jonathan. Nancy Wheeler never became friends with Jonathan, possibly something more had there been more time. When you close your eyes and sit still, you can imagine that your brother never has nightmares that wake him up screaming. That your heart doesn’t hurt when you make your best friend laugh. 

For a moment, you can forget. 

“Can we always stay like this?” You ask Jonathan softly, almost as if you’ll disturb the peace that winter has brought with its quiet snow. 

“Like what?”

You’re not sure how to express what you’re feeling. “This, us. Together.”

“Of course we’ll always stay like this.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. He says this like it’s a fact, the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Pinky promise me.” You hold your pinky up. You know it’s silly, but you need him to hear you, to understand what you’re saying.

Jonathan looks over at you. “Y/N–”

“Please, promise me, bee.”

He’s silent for a moment, seeming to understand the weight of everything between, around, and within the two of you. Then, he extends his pinky finger and wraps it around yours. “I promise, bug.” 

And you believe him.

[END OF SEASON 1]

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[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box Series— Lake House Shenanigans Edition

22/23 SERIES MASTERLIST

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liked by trevorzegras, _alexturcotte, and 10,346 others

yourusername the hughes & co annual lake house week summarized:

- i pushed trevor into the lake 17 teams and he only did it 16 times

- I WON THE CHEL TOURNAMENT! suck it boys <3 (cole got second place)

-our annual twister game is not pictured, but trust that no one died

- z-baby is back in his bucket hat era and i’m so obsessed with him! my fiancé is so fiiinnnneeeee

- i did not get sunburnt out on the boat (jacky boy and turcs did) so i’m obviously a god

- z and i forced everyone to listen to us do karaoke to taylor swift songs (they loved it)

- lukey lost sorry 5 times (we played 5 times)

- sorry as a drinking game is an 11/10 i highly recommend

- i was nice and didn’t force everyone to watch the hunger games series and it was terrible

- quinn dropped me after throwing over his shoulder (see slide 9) and i have a giant bruise on my leg (i’ve named it jerry)

the hughes & co. annual lake house week summarized in a poem: “i’m so happily in crazy with you” ~atticus

tagged trevorzegras, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, _alexturcotte, and colecaufield

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trevorzegras oh you and your poems… i love you, forever, my fiiinnnneeeee fiancée 🧡

yourusername i love you, always, loser🧡

trevorzegras that was uncalled for

yourusername you should’ve thought about that before losing everything?

trevorzegras i let you win!

jackhughes @/trevorzegras maybe at the pushing in the lake contest, but not chel

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras you were out round 1

trevorzegras @/jackhughes @_alexturcotte she practiced with jimmy all season!

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras don’t blame me for you sucking

trevorzegras i quit

yourusername @/trevorzegras cry baby

trevorzegras @/yourusername your cry baby?

yourusername @/trevorzegras i mean i guess

user77 i would’ve killed to be a fly on the wall

_quinnhughes why on earth would you name your bruise?

yourusername it was a gift

_quinnhughes it was an accident!

yourusername @/colecaufield quintin said he doesn’t love me anymore so congrats you’re best friend number one!

_quinnhughes i didn’t say that!

colecaufield @_quinnhughes too little too late

jackhughes @/yourusername why am i not in the running for best friend?

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes because she hates you and i love her

yourusername @_quinnhughes TOO LITTLE TOO LATE

yourusername @/jackhughes you remind me of a muddy rock <3

lhughes_06 @/yourusername don’t worry i still love you

yourusername @/lhughes_06 and this is why you’re my favorite! i love you, lukey moosey!

jamie.drysdale stop having fun without me

yourusername stop having other friends

jamie.drysdale no

yourusername then i will continue to do so! i still love you!

jamie.drysdale i mean i guess i love you, too

yourusername you guess?! i should be your sun, your moon, and all your stars!

jamie.drysdale you’re definitely my something

yourusername i’ll take it <3

jackhughes @/yourusername if i said this you’d tell on me and ridicule me

yourusername @/jackhughes that’s because i hate you🥰

user4 let’s play “who’s sissy’s least favorite hughes?”

yourusername it’s still quinn?? idk why we keep playing this game

user20 they’re throwing money at her😭 idol status

_alexturcotte “our annual twister game is not pictured, but trust that no one died” you fell face first into the coffee table and have a bruise on your forehead

yourusername but did i die?

_alexturcotte no…?

yourusername didn’t think so #invincible

_quinnhughes @/yourusername did you name your forehead bruise?

yourusername @_quinnhughes no? that one wasn’t a gift! what part of this do you not understand?

_quinnhughes @/yourusername all of it

_alexturcotte @_quinnhughes do you even love her?!

yourusername @_quinnhughes yeah! do you?

_quinnhughes @/yourusername OF COURSE I LOVE YOU

yourusername @_quinnhughes somebody needs a nap

_quinnhughes i quit

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes welcome to the club

user17 oh how i’ve missed this chaos

user99 your posts help fill the offseason void

lhughes_06 “my hand is on yellow, you personification of a semi-colon” is hands down my favorite sissysult

_quinnhughes one of the most entertaining things i’ve been called

jackhughes i liked “stop acting like a pissed on snow cone” (also to quinn)

colecaufield you’re all wrong the best sissysult was “go change, you look like a minecraft creeper rubber duck”

trevorzegras @/colecaufield that’s because you weren’t called a minecraft creeper rubber duck

yourusername @/trevorzegras think about that the next you wear all green

trevorzegras @/yourusername you’re mean

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras personally, i think she should be meaner

colecaufield we’re playing a rematch when we play the ducks next season

yourusername over my dead body

colecaufield i could arrange that

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale you wouldn’t let him kill me, right?

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername i’ll protect you, ex-wife!

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale this is why you’re my favorite ex-husband <3

jackhughes @/colecaufield i’ll help kill her

yourusername @/jackhughes i know your weakness, least favorite ex-husband/muddy rock

jackhughes @/yourusername and that is?

yourusername @/jackhughes me.

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes she’s got you there

jackhughes @_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras i’m joining your club

user9 maybe i don’t want to be a fly on the wall… that sounds terrifying

jackhughes if you have ever been bullied or physically attacked by sissy soon-to-be-rowden soon-to-be-zegras, you may be entitled to compensation. dial 442-839-6876

trevorzegras that’s a good one

_alexturcotte 🔥

yourusername i hate you sm too damn

jackhughes @/yourusername can we truce now? for the week?

yourusername @/jackhughes FINE. i love you, soulmate

jackhughes @/yourusername i love you, too, sissy

#penalty box series #penalty box series: bonus editions #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #cole caufield #cole caufield imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes image #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #alex turcotte #alex turcotte imagine #trevor zegras insta edit #hockey imagine

[bymarara]

Will and the Boys Don't Cry.

Remember the picture when we were first shown Will on his birthday? In case anyone hasn't noticed, there were headphones in the picture and let's think, who else was wearing headphones and under what circumstances? Uh, Max! Max wore them so that she wouldn't fall under the full influence of Vecna and become his victim, music helped her so called survival.

Now let's get to why Will carries them around. I have two suggestions.

Everyone on the team has headphones now just in case Vecna decides to face someone.

Will is scared. Will himself realizes that he can feel Vecna's presence, in addition he will probably hear him, his voice and his thoughts, which will be very frightening to Byers. Because of the fear, he may choose his favorite song and walk around with headphones on at all times, so that if anything happens, he won't be influenced by Vekna and Vekna won't take over Will's mind. I also think that there will be a similar situation as with Lumax, that Mike will have to turn on these headphones in case of anything, I think Will will warn him alone about it all, thus trusting Mike.

Now something I've been thinking about very, very hard. Most people, and I think or thought that Will's song would be “Should I Stay or Should I Go”, but if you notice the details, you can see the poster in Will's room! “Boys don't cry”, this song references Will in a lot of ways, and if it's in season 5 in his headphones, it will be very symbolic, and will show the meaning of everything we've seen.

Let's take Max as an example. She has “Running Up That Hill” in her headphones. The lines from the song literally refer to what Max is feeling and it also shows how she feels about Billy and how she regrets what happened at the end of season 3 and how she would take it all back. The chorus from her song, literally speaks to Max's morale and what she wants. -And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God, And I'd get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building. If I only could, oh These lines literally refer to the fact that if Max had known what would happen, she would not have stood still, but would have tried to help her half-brother. She would have been ready even for the same death as her brother, as long as he did not die. Also, there are very interesting lines like.

“You don't want to hurt me,but see how deep the bullet lies.” which refers to their relationship while Billy was alive. The guy hurt his sister, which she hasn't forgotten, and that deep down inside of her, she wished him dead inside of her, which she now regrets.

What about Will? I know most people have already figured this out, but for those who haven't and don't know the context - this song is about the inner thoughts that guys have when they're going through an unpleasant/transitional moment in their lives. It's also popular in the LGBT+ community. Let's go through the parts that I find most interesting and start from the beginning. -I would say I'm sorry, If I thought that it would change your mind. But I know that this time, I have said too much. Somehow it reminds me a lot of Will helping Mike with his relationship with Al, while ignoring his feelings and even confessing his feelings while hiding under his sisters name. Also, I think there's a season five reference here. I mean, Will could talk about the painting and the speech, but not say what he meant about his feelings! And the lines “I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind.” show that Mike could have left with some anger and it left a mark on Will and that he can't even apologize now, and that apologizing won't change anything. (Yes, I know I sound creepy, please.) Now let's get to the chorus. -I tried to laugh about it,

Cover it all up with lies. I tried to laugh about it, Hiding the tears in my eyes. Cause boys don't cry. Boys don't cry. Sounds like Will's confession to Mike to me. He's not showing his real feelings, he's hiding everything under the “Al” mask. and underneath the mask, he keeps his feelings hidden, not showing them. He himself, quietly crying, quietly suffering, realizing for himself that his feelings will never be reciprocated, that he will have to live with it and come to terms with it, and he buries it all by himself and tries to cope with it all by himself. -I would tell you, That I loved you, If I thought that you would stay. But I know that it's no use, That you've already, Gone away… Again he says that he has buried all his hopes and feelings, he sees Mike pulling away from him and as if he is walking away from him, so talking about feelings, about declarations of love is useless in his opinion. Literally the whole song shows Will, shows a guy who in his opinion has already missed his chance, he realizes that he can't change anything and hides himself and his feelings only deeper into himself.

I hope that Will will have this song in season 5, but I will also say that there is a possibility that in case of anything, Mike can play this song, so much in this song refers to Mike.

#byler #byler endgame #will byers #finn wolfhard #mike wheeler #byler brainrot #mike wheeler fanart #noah schnapp #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5 #st #byler s5 #st analysis #st5 #st5 spoilers #st5 speculation #stranger things s5 #will x mike #will byers fanart