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#I watched the scene and you can see the second his face just drops as Emma touched him
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What was going on in deckhand Hook’s head:
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waitimcomingtoo · 5 months
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Jealousy, Jealousy
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Synopsis: Peeta helps Johanna unzip her dress in the elevator and it makes you jealous
Masterlist
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“Can I have a hand?” Johanna asked as she turned her back to Peeta. Peeta looked at you and Haymitch for a split second before shrugging and taking ahold of her zipper.
“Oh. Sure.” He said as he pulled the zipper down her back. Your head slowly turned to Peter and you stared at him with a slack jaw. Peeta looked at you and his smile immediately dropped. He adverted his eyes as long as he could until they found their way back to the scene in front of him. Johanna was looking between you and Peeta with a smirk when she turned around to pull her sleeves off her arms. Peeta and Haymitch couldn’t help but watch her as she undressed and dropped her clothes onto the elevator floor. It appeared that you were the only one able to keep your eyes on the ceiling as Johanna stripped out of her last piece of clothing.
“Thanks. Let’s do it again sometime.” She said as the elevator doors opened. She walked into the hallway fully naked and left a silence when she left. Peeta and Haymitch chuckled and exchanged looks as the elevator went up another door. Peeta then made eye contact with you and gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. You could not believe he had just looked at her the way he did. Seeing him unzip her dress and watch her made your blood boil in your skin in a way it never had before. You were so consumed with your jealousy that you didn’t hear Peeta try to change the subject and only knew she spoke when you saw his lips move.
“What?” You asked him.
“I asked what outfit you liked the best.” Peeta repeated. “I thought District 5’s was kinda cool. But it didn’t look very comfortable.”
“I don’t know. And I don’t care. I wasn’t looking at the other tributes.” You said and eyed him up and down as the elevator doors opened on your floor.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peeta’s face scrunched in confusion as he followed you out of the elevator.
“Nothing. I’m going to sleep.” You announced and headed straight for your room.
“You’re sleeping already? Aren’t you gonna eat?” Peeta asked with concern.
“I’m not hungry.” You said without looking back.
“I can meet you on the roof in a little bit if you want to hang out.” He offered.
“Not tonight.” You replied and disappeared into your bedroom. Peeta frowned and felt disappointment sink in over not getting the night with you that he thought he’d be getting.
“Uh oh.” Haymitch chuckled as he poured himself a drink.
“What was that?” Peeta asked and gestured to where you had just been.
“That, my friend, was you getting in trouble with your lady.”
“What?” Peeta blushed at what Haymitch called you. “She’s not even my lady.”
“But she wants to be.” Haymitch said pointedly and took a long sip.
“Y/n? There’s no way. She knows I like her and she made it very clear that she just wants to be friends.” Peeta insisted.
“Peeta, I don’t really know how they do things in 12 nowadays, so let me spell things out for you. That girl wants you but she’s way too stubborn to admit it to you or even herself. She doesn’t want to tell you how she feels because she wants you to just know. And she definitely didn’t want to see you undressing another girl right in front of her.”
“I wasn’t undressing her. I just helped her unzip her…” Peeta trailed off when he saw Haymitch raise his eyebrows in amusement. He realized how bad the moment in the elevator must’ve looked to you and began to panic.
“Oh no.” Peeta gulped. “Is she really mad at me?”
“Definitely.”
“What do I do?” He whined.
“Talk to her. And prepare to get hit a couple times.” Haymitch chuckled and patted Peeta’s shoulder as he passed him. Peeta thought about it for a moment and then went up to your room to do what Haymitch said and talk to you. He knocked on your door and you opened it pretty quickly as if you were expecting him. You had ditched your parade outfit and were now in some silky yellow pajamas.
“Hey.” Peeta smiled at you.
“What do you want?” You replied, making his smile drop.
“Just to talk. And I wanted to see you.”
“I’m really tired. I’m not in the mood to talk tonight.”
“Oh, okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want. I’m tired too. We can just sleep.” Peeta offered. You usually slept in the same bed to keep the nightmares away but there was no way you were letting him in your bed after what happened in the elevator.
“I’m gonna sleep alone tonight.” You told him with a tight smile.
“Oh. Okay.” Peeta said again and felt his disappointment settle in a pit in his stomach. Your cold expression suddenly melted to one of insecurity and you looked down the hallway as if you were expecting someone else to be there.
“Are you?” You asked quietly.
“Huh? Who else would I be sleeping with?” Peeta genuinely wondered, not realizing you were asking about Johanna.
“I don’t know.” You said quickly. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. See you-“ Peeta was cut off by you closing the door in his face. He sighed and put his hand on your door before walking away.
“Tomorrow.” He mumbled.
When tomorrow came, he woke up in his lonely bed and went straight to your room. Your door was open and you weren’t inside so he assumed you already went downstairs. You weren’t there when he got to the table and let out another sigh. You were clearly avoiding him and he was not handling it very well. Peeta decided not to let it get to him and busied himself by making you a plate of all your favorite breakfast food. Haymitch watched Peeta scrambling to get back in your good graces and laughed to himself. You came down just as Peeta was finishing your plate and eyed him curiously.
“Good morning.” He greeted with you a smile.
“Morning.” You replied without looking at him.
“I made you a plate.” He said and put the plate in front of you. You stared at the plate for a minute and almost gave it and apologized for your cold behavior until you remembered the way he looked at Johanna last night. That was enough to make you lose your appetite so you pushed the plate away.
“I’m not really hungry.”
“You’re not? But you didn’t eat last night.” Peeta said worriedly as he sat beside you.
“Yes she did. For a hunter, you’re not very quiet. I could hear you rummaging for food all the way from my room.” Haymitch said to you.
“You came down to eat?” Peeta asked. “You should’ve gotten me. I would’ve kept you company.”
“Maybe I didn’t want your company.” You shrugged, making Peeta frown.
“Oh. Ice cold, sweetheart.” Haymitch chuckled. “You better watch your back in the games, Peeta. This one has death in her eyes.”
“You’re still mad at me?” Peeta whispered to you.
“Who said I’m mad at you?” You said without looking at him.
“I know you are. We usually talk on the rooftop and then sleep in the same bed. And then come down to eat breakfast together. You didn’t let me do any of those things.”
“Maybe I just need some space. We spend every hour together every single day. Excuse me for wanting some privacy for a little while.”
“We should be spending every hour together before we don’t get the chance. How long are you gonna be mad at me?”
“I already told you, I’m not mad.” You whispered harshly.
“Fine. You’re not mad. But when can we be friends again?” Peeta asked and tugged on your sleeve.
“Peeta.” You said warningly and pushed his hand away.
“Come on. I miss you.” He whined and tugged on your sleeve.
“I’m right here.” You scoffed but started to feel guilty for your behavior.
“No you’re not.” He pouted. “You’re far away.”
“Stop whining so much. You sound like my cat. And I hate that cat.”
“So you hate me now? All because I un-“
“Don’t.” You cut him off and got up from the table. You passed Effie in the hallway as you went back to your room.
“What’s going on? Y/n just told me she wants to train alone today.” Effie said as he joined the boys at the table.
“She’s mad at loverboy.” Haymitch said and pointed to Peeta.
“What did you do?” Effie asked him.
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything.”
“He unzipped Johanna Masons dress in the elevator.” Haymitch tattled.
“What? Are you insane?” Effie gasped. “You can’t do something like that in front of your lady.”
“Why does everyone keep calling her my lady?” Peeta asked. “She doesn’t even like me.”
“Of course she likes you. That’s why she’s so upset. She’s jealous.” Effie laughed like it was obvious.
“Jealous? Of me and Johanna? I don’t think I even said a word to her. I just pulled the zipper.”
“It’s not about Johanna, silly. It’s about you giving attention to another girl. That’s why she’s jealous. She wants to be the one you’re unzipping.” Effie explained, making Peeta choke on the water he had just sipped. He wiped his mouth once he stopped choking and sighed.
“I need to fix this.”
“Yeah. You do. Before she makes you her first target.” Haymitch told him.
“She wouldn’t do that. Oh my God. Wait. Would she?” Peeta worried.
“She might.” Effie shrugged and Haymitch nodded in agreement.
“Well what do I do? She won’t talk to me.”
“So don’t give her a choice. Go in there and show her that she’s your only lady.” Haymitch instructed.
“What if she tells me to go away?” Peeta asked.
“Stay.” Effie answered. Peeta nodded his head and got out of his seat to go talk to you. He knocked on your door but this time, you didn’t answer. Peeta took a deep breath before opening the door and going in. You were on your bed with your knees drawn up to your chest. You gasped when he came in and threw a pillow at his head.
“What are you doing in here? Get out.”
“No. We’re talking.” Peeta said and sat on the edge of your bed.
“Well I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Too bad. Because I want to talk to you. Please? I can’t take it that you’re mad at me. I don’t want to go in the arena without hearing your voice. Can’t we just talk?” Peeta begged.
“Fine. What do you want to say?” You asked him.
“That you’re a big baby.” Peeta replied.
“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened when you didn’t get the apology you were expecting.
“You are.” He insisted. “You don’t get to be mad at me for unzipping Johanna’s dress when I didn’t even know what was happening.”
“What?” You laughed nervously. “I’m not mad at you for unzipping her dress. Why would I care about that?”
“I don’t know why you care. But I know that you’re jealous.”
“Jealous? Oh, please.” You scoffed and got off the bed to get away from Peeta.
“It’s okay to admit it.” Peeta said calmly. “I admit that I was jealous when I saw you talking to Finnick. And his giant muscles that are always out.”
“They are, aren’t they?” You smiled coyly.
“Hey.” Peeta said defensively.
“You’re the one who’s jealous. Not me.” You said and pointed to him.
“Then how come you’ve been mad at me ever since I unzipped her dress?” Peeta asked and walked over to you.
“It’s not about the dress!” You exclaimed.
“Then what is this about?” He asked. You scoffed again and folded your arms to close yourself off. Peeta wasn’t about to give up that easy and put his hands on your shoulders.
“Please tell me. I miss my friend.” He said quietly. You sighed and looked into his big sad eyes.
“I don’t care that you unzipped her dress.” You admitted. “You were just doing what she asked. I care that you were looking at her when she took her clothes off.”
“In my defense, I’ve never seen boobs before.” Peeta stated, making you laugh for second.
“Me either.”
“Not…not your own?” Peeta whispered in disbelief.
“Yes my own. Never another girls.” You explained and smacked his arm.
“Oh. I was gonna say. I know we don’t have a lot of mirrors in 12 but I think they’d be kinda hard to avoid- “
“I don’t want you looking at Johanna, okay?” You cut him off. “Or any other girls. I hated it. It made my blood feel hot and my stomach dropped to the floor. And then I couldn’t sleep because I kept replaying it in my head. What is that?”
“Thats jealousy.” Peeta explained with a pleased smile now that he knew Effie was right.
“Oh. Well I don’t want to feel it ever again. I didn’t like it.”
“Well I didn’t like when you didn’t talk to me.” Peeta said quietly.
“I’m sorry. I feel like my life is completely out of my hands lately. But you and I are the one thing I have a say in. So when it felt like our relationship was threatened, I tried to gain control by shutting you out.”
“It’s okay. I probably would’ve curled into a ball and cried right in front of you if I saw you unzip some guys pants.” He admitted, making you laugh again. You chuckled and pulled him into a hug to apologize for being so cold towards him. When you pulled out of the hug, you kept your arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.
“So seeing me with Finnick really made you jealous?” You asked with a smirk.
“Yeah. I was questioning our alliance the second I heard him make you laugh.” Peeta replied, making you laugh.
“Yeah. I know the feeling.”
“Why do you think we got so jealous seeing each other around other people?” Peeta wondered. You looked down at the floor and sighed.
“I think maybe we underestimated our feelings for each other.” You admitted.
“We?” Peeta raised an eyebrow.
“Fine. I underestimated my feelings. When I saw you looking at another girl, I realized the only one I want you looking at is me.”
“As if theres anything in this world that could make me take my eyes off you.” Peeta said softly.
“Except for Johanna’s boobs.” You mumbled under your breath.
“You’re the only one I’m looking at right now.” He assured you. You smiled for a second, then frowned.
“But you’re not thinking about them, right?” You asked him.
“I’m about to if you don’t stop bringing them up.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Maybe I can take your mind off it?” You asked with a shrug.
“How?” Peeta barely got the word out before you were kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you to deepen the kiss as your hands found their way to his hair. There were no cameras and no witnesses because it was just yours.
“So we’re friends again?” Peeta asked once you pulled away.
“I don’t know. I don’t get jealous like over just my friends.” You said coyly. Peeta picked up on what you were saying and felt his face heat up. He pressed his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes.
“Good.” He said. “Because I never wanted to be just friends with you.”
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ynscrazylife · 2 months
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i need to be excused (aaron hotchner x wife!reader)
summary: yknow that scene where hotch says “excuse me” and then faints? imagine that but his wife does it to him.
Having a profiler for a husband gets annoying with how observent he is. Unfortunately, you’re also a profiler, so it’d be hypocritical to complain.
Still, when Hotch notices the slightest thing wrong, he latches onto it. He’s had his eye on you ever since you took a hard hit from a fight in the field. You barely had time to recover before the team had to board the jet again to respond to some emergency Strauss needed them for.
Apparently, a man who claims to be linked to other murders and who was a former BAU agent had made a threat against Strauss’s family. Finally back at the BAU, the team’s stuck calling people, making arrangements, going through endless paperwork to try and get more information and figure out what was going on.
You’re not doing so hot. Still reeling from the pain, but also exhausted and definitely moody. Hotch keeps it professional since they’re at work, but is still watching out for you.
Hours later, after correctly identifying the man and making the arrest (which included lots of running around), the team again returns to their base. They’re going through everything and debriefing next steps, when you abruptly stand.
“I need to be excused for a moment,” you say, already sounding breathless, before promptly keeling over and collapsing onto the floor.
For a second, everyone freezes in shock. Hotch is the first to react. He all but screams your name, dropping to his knees and trying to assess what’s going on.
“Honey, honey? C’mon, wake up. What’s going on? Sweetheart, please,” Hotch says as he shakes you, moving you so that your head is in his lap.
Spencer kneels on your other side, gently taking your pulse and reporting that it’s stable. “Could be exhaustion, dehydration . . .” He trails off, listing all the reasons he can think of.
Hotch uses one hand to run his fingers through your hair and the other to cup your face, lightly tapping your cheek. After nearly a minute of the team standing around, wondering what to do, your eyes start to flutter open.
“Aaron?” You mutter, seeing your husband’s eyes first.
“Hi, hon. You passed out. I need you to tell me how you’re feeling,” he says, keeping his voice soft but letting out a breath of relief now that you’re awake. He continues threading his fingers through your hair and rubs his thumb against your cheek.
You blink a couple times and then say, “Tired.”
Exhaustion, then. “You’re sure that’s it? Is anything else wrong?” Hotch asks, anxious to role out some underlying cause.
You nod, then grimace at the lightheaded feeling it gives you, turning and smushing the side of your face in Hotch’s lap. He looks up at the team and gestures his head towards the door.
They get the hint, though Emily and Spencer do offer to stay behind and help. Hotch thanks them but assures them that you’ll be alright and the team takes off.
“Do you feel alright to sit up?” Hotch asks after a moment.
“Yeah,” you murmur and, with his help, sit up. You immediately lean into his arms. “Ooh, wow. Dizzy.”
“I think you pushed yourself a bit too hard, sweetheart. We gotta make sure you rest properly. Wouldn’t hurt to get some food and water in you, too,” Hotch says, cradling you.
You hum in agreement. The two of you sit there for a bit, Hotch being in no rush to move you. He can’t help but reflect a bit and he sighs, shaking his head.
“What?” You ask grumpily.
“Just a little in shock that you actually excused yourself before fainting,” he says. He recognizes the funniness of it, though he lacks any amusement, still too worried.
You chuckle. “Was tryin’ to be polite,” you explain.
“I’m sure you were,” Hotch says, smearing a kiss against your head.
You continue on sitting, Hotch rubbing your back. Finally, he gets the both of you on your feet, and leads you out to the car. He sits you in the passenger’s seat and buckles you in, driving you home. Once there Hotch immediately gets you in bed, helping you change into pajamas before doing the same. He gets you a glass of water and a snack, making sure that you eat and drink it all.
“Wanna sleep now,” you mumble once you’re done, curling into his chest.
“Of course, dear. Just relax,” he coos, already planning to call you both out of work tomorrow. He does not take his wife fainting lightly and is going to do everything he can to make sure you’re okay.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months
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Established Steddie, they have been living together for over a decade, did their best to heal their wounds from the Upside Down and learn to enjoy life again. It's not easy but they do it.
When the Lord of the Rings movies come out, it's actually Steve who suggests watching them to Eddie. He really tries engaging with Eddie's passions, but his focus is not the greatest when it comes to books. That doesn't mean he doesn't listen to Eddie ramble about them though - he knows all about hobbits, second breakfasts, the culture of smoking in the Shire...Eddie admires a lot of characters from the books, but ever since experiencing the Upside Down fuckery, he actually admits that the hobbits had a point. Good food, even better company and good tobacco? What else does one need? It also inspires Steve a few years later to prepare a full day of hobbit-inspired meals for their trilogy marathon when the extended editions come out. But this is about their first time watching the movies.
They both go to the movie theater excited. Steve is familiar with most of the characters, including Eddie's self-admitted crush on Aragorn. And Steve can see why, he can see so much good in all the members of the fellowship. After the first movie, he's wiping his eyes because Boromir deserved better. Eddie has a lot to say about what was lost in adaptation, but Steve knows Eddie loves those movies and would cut off his only remaining nipple before missing the next ones.
The Two Towers have Steve rooting for the ents and he feels strangely touched about how everyone underestimates Pippin, yet it's him who gets the ents to march. He really can't pick a favorite character. He can't wait for the third movie.
They go to the premiere of the Return of the King with Eddie. They secretly hold hands in the last row, and Steve watches the ride of the Rohirrim with bated breath. He clenches his hand in Eddie's when Theoden gets gravely injured, but then Éowyn is there and...oh.
He is staring slack-jawed at the scene. Éowyn's large, terrified eyes, the towering frame of the Witch King. Her posture was fearful, crouched, but still she faced him. And something surfaces in his head, something he's long forgotten.
He's unusually queit when they come back home, he still loves the rest of the movie, almost cries at "my friends, you bow to no one,", then definitely cries at Frodo leaving the Middle Earth. But there is still that something and Eddie can sense it. When they're falling asleep together, Eddie finally asks him. And Steve's had enough time to process what he felt.
"When Éowyn faced the Witch King...it reminded me of what it felt like. I mean, for the first time. I know it's stupid because saw so much unnatural shit, but...it's the first time that I have hard time forgetting," he admits quietly. "She reminded me of me in 1983 so much. I had no clue what I was getting myself into. I thought I'd do the right thing, but then I had a gun pointed at me, they both had blood on their hands...and then it appeared."
Eddie doesn't speak, he only holds Steve closer.
"It was so tall. I remember that petal-like mouth, those teeth, but mostly...I remember the crippling fear. I felt absolutely terrified. I couldn't move. There was even a moment when I thought of running away, but...I couldn't leave them there. Seeing someone go through something similar and being praised for being a hero...it makes me think. I used to be so ashamed for freezing in that moment. For even considering running away. But Éowyn...she was like me." There's awe in his voice and warmth, relief. "She had no idea what she was getting into. She froze. She didn't do everything perfectly and gracefully like Legolas or something, but when it mattered...she did what she had to."
He holds Eddie tighter and asks, almost shyly: "Will it offend you that I think she's my favorite character? Not Aragorn or Sam?"
Eddie just shakes his head and drops a kiss to Steve's hair. "Nah. She suits you well. And you're both amazing."
And if it becomes a silly endearment in their household, that Steve is sometimes called the Shieldmaiden of Hawkins? ("I'm not a maiden, Eddie!" "I'm not calling you a shieldboy or shieldbachelor, Steve!") Then Steve feels a hint of something that he thought he'd renounced, but now, for the first time he feels it's deserved - pride.
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hoshigray · 10 months
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hey there! what do you think would toji’s reaction be when he finds out that you like getting spanked? (your version of toji lives in my mind rent free)
Damn, noonie!! This one was enticing to write, I ain't gon' lie lol had to sacrifice sleep to see it through hahaha. Hope you enjoy it!! And tysmmmm ;w; it's nice to know that others like how I write for my man~~ ♡
Cw: dom!Toji x fem!reader - doggy style/backshot position - Daddy kink - impact play/spanking (obvi) - slight degradation (Toji calls you a whore) - clitoral play (pinches to the clit) - pet names (angel, baby, sweetie/sweetheart, mama) - praise - mentions of drool - unprotected sex but Toji doesn't shoot inside. Wc: 1.4k
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The first time it happened was on accident.
You and Toji were sitting on the couch watching television— his favorite basketball team was on, and by the looks of it (and the older man's frustration ticking up by the second), the game wasn't going so well. The score was neck-and-neck; you could tell it was pushing your boyfriend to the edge.
Nervously, you pick up your glass to sip your beverage, only to find it completely empty. You get up from the couch and move past Toji. However, simultaneously, something happened on the program that caused the man to groan in vexation and throw his big hands out aggressively.
The back of his hand unexpectedly meets your ass, causing you to shriek and drop the glass. Toji hears the sound of glass shattering and stops watching the sport to assess what transpired. When he sees you rub your butt where the back of his palm bumped into, apologies enter the scene.
"Oh shit, sorry 'bout that, baby." He gets up to pull you away from the glass, but you forgive him knowing his actions weren't intentional.
The second time, though, was far from an accident.
Toji came home from grocery shopping and walked into the shared bedroom to see you lying on the bed, on the phone with your best friend talking about whatever. A quick smile is flashed his way before returning to your conversation while he removes his leather jacket and exchanges his outdoor clothes for something more comfortable.
When he's done changing, he looks at you, so glued to your device that you don't notice him observing. He notices how laid back you are, lying on your stomach with just an oversized sweatshirt — his sweatshirt — and your panty-covered bottom for his eyes to see.
Emerald eyes linger on your lower half, tracing the lacy material of your undergarment. A smirk sneaks through scarred lips while Toji silently moves towards you, raising his hand before it comes down on your ass. And it comes down hard.
Expected, you react to the sudden interruption. But this time, Toji doesn't hear a shriek leave your lips. No, no. To his ears, it sounded like something with a more pleasant intonation. A moan.
You freeze. He freezes. No one says anything until someone on the other side of your phone comments.
"Hey, is something wrong?" Your best friend has a worried tone in their voice. "Was that a moan just now? Oh, I swear to God, Y/n, you better not be having sex while on the phone—"
You quickly interject. "No, no, no! Sorry, it was just that...Toji!!" With anger plastered on your face, you glare at your boyfriend, who's undoubtedly the culprit of what happened a few seconds ago.
He doesn't explain himself as he straightens himself and exits the bedroom. Even as he escaped, his smug grin remained on his face. "My bad, kid." he laughed and closed the bedroom door.
Fast forward to the present, you and Toji are in the comfort of your shared bedroom. "Nnmph! Oh, fuck...Daddy, feels so goo—Ahhhnn!"
With your back arched and your butt raised, Toji fucks you doggy style. Your mouth is covered by the satin covers of the pillow, suppressing the ecstatic noises from your mouth. His hands are positioned on each side of your hips, stationing you to take in the ruts of his sex. You can feel every dent and vein of his cock scraping your insides, the delicious sensation corrupting your senses.
The man drills his dick deep within you, and the sounds of his pelvis slamming onto your butt fill the bedroom. Toji can't help but admire having you like this for him and him alone: exposing your sweat-covered back and your soft rear being pounded. It turns him on so fucking much. And don't get him started on your pussy. The way your inner walls clench around him every time the base of his cock kisses your southern lips? Oh, it fucks him up so much, using every fiber of his being to not come too quick.
"Hnngh! Fuck, Y/n..." He moans to you, grinding his hips on your butt for his length to further churn your insides. It has you gripping the sheets with a bitten lip. "Feel so good fr' me, mama."
Although, he can't help but notice something. Anytime he brushes his hand on your buttocks, a jolt comes from your body. Along with a quick grasp of your cunt around his cock.
It's been apparent for the past six minutes, yet only now is when it hits him: the accident and his little prank before directly connect to what's happening now. It hits him, and he can't fight the tiny smile that's starting to bloom.
Now, the third time has finally presented itself.
"Hey, sweetie." You moan at the pet name, and hums of pleasure seep out when Toji slows the pace of his thrusts. "Does my baby like to get spanked?
Suddenly, everything in the room feels like it's come to a halt, and your blood runs cold. "H-Huh?" You meekly question.
"Oh, I know you heard me." A chill trickles down your spine when you hear him snicker from behind, and a squeak exits your puffy lips when you feel a big hand slither up and down the cusp of your ass. "Go on. Tell Daddy how much you love to get y'r ass smacked by me, sweetheart."
You can't tell if the sweat on your forehead is from the heat or the anxious pool in your stomach. You try to rationalize. "N-Now, Toji. Let's not try any—Eeeyaaah!!!"
A harsh slap on your ass causes you to substitute your thoughts with a forced scream. Your cunt tightens around his cock in haste, and he hisses. His fingers dig deep into the stinging flesh, and you can only imagine the tiny crescents his nails are branding onto your delicate skin.
"Aaaaahhh, shit...Sorry, angel, I didn't quite catch that." Toji bends down to bite your shoulder, resulting in another choked cry filling the air. "What's my name again, Y/n?" His voice drops to a dangerous low octave that makes you shiver.
"Nnmmm...I'm sorry, Daddy," you purr under him.
He grins hard with his hand kneading your ass. "Y'r grippin' me hard every time I play with this ass." He smacks your asscheek again, tears prickle at the corner of your eyes, and you prove his point when your slit contracts around him again. "What do you want Daddy to do 'bout that?"
With heavy huffs, you try to regain some sense to formulate a proper response for the man dominating over you. Your face is hot with embarrassment coursing through your quivering body.
"I...I want—"
"Speak a lil louder, baby." Fingernails sink deep into the skin of your ass, and you jerk from the pain.
"Pleaseeee, Daddyyy," you know your whines only feed his ego, but that's what he wants. That's how you'll get what you're aching for. "Pleaseee, I want you to slap my ass...I want it so ba—Aaaaahhhh!!!"
And with that, Toji doesn't hold back. Fast ruts to your soaping slit are paired along with strikes to your butt, and there's no use in you trying to conceal the mewls flying out your mouth. Every harsh smack to your bottom forces your pussy to clamp around Toji's dick. The contrasts between the pleasurable commotion and the extreme hits of his hands are too intense for your brain to comprehend.
Toji, however, enjoys this type of change in rhythm. "Aiishhh, damn. Who woulda thought my baby liked gettin' their ass smacked, grippin' me like a dirty whore." Your asscheeks are now stinging and hot from his painful touch, your cunt clenching ahold of him as he bullies your body inside and out. "But—Oh, fuckin' shit...I fuckin' love this."
And you can't deny it either; despite you moaning out loud and having your body be used like a porn star, your arousal is at an all-time high. Tears and drool now fall from your pretty face and stain the satin pillow covers.
So much so that your orgasm hits you without your recollection when Toji snakes down a hand to pinch on your clit. The abrupt, cruel, yet exhilarating tweak to your sensitive bud topped it off, tipping you to experience your long-awaited climax.
Toji knows he'll follow suit when he feels the walls of your chasm flutter around his cock, taking out his member to shoot his load out. His essence paints your ass, striking down slowly to your back.
You two heave through the aftershocks, your body now sweaty and dirty with filth on your back and between your legs. The older man leans down to kiss your shoulders. "Did so good fr' me, mama. We outta do that more often."
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sp0o0kylights · 10 months
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Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him. 
They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down. 
His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror. 
This is his golden ticket. 
The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before. 
He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.
 Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.
No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now? 
He's fucked. 
He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.) 
 Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB. 
If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.
Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it. 
"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin. 
Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)
"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters." 
Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss. 
"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!" 
Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough. 
"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.
Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks.  "Looking forward to it." 
Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling. 
Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him. 
Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face? 
The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.
Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth. 
("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that." 
Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!” 
Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!" 
"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness." 
Eddie flipped him off.) 
One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.
No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later. 
Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!
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cupid-styles · 5 months
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only angel 2 (tattoorry/plugrry)
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part two of tattorry is here!!!!! read part one here
in which y/n's parents still suck, harry can't stop thinking about his girl, and maybe there's a chance this'll all work out
word count: 8.5k
content warnings: angst (all solved in the end!), minor mentions of dieting/controlled eating, y/n has really awful parents (spoiler: there is one scene where her mom slaps her), weed mentions, a terrible date (one minor but inappropriate scene with unwanted non-sexual touching), smut (fingering, f receiving oral, dirty talk, spitting, tiniest bit of daddy kink)
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
As soon as Y/N's mother zeroes in on Harry's grasp around her daughter's waist, everything moves at a blurry pace. 
In an instant, her hand is curled around Y/N's wrist, yanking her away from one of the only sources of comfort she's ever had. She gasps when she pulls her through the door and outside the bookstore, bile rising in her throat as her brain slowly pieces things together. She got caught. Applying to a job. With Harry holding her hand.
She's never going to be able to see him again.
Harry's quick to follow them outside, his mind whirring just as quickly.
"Excuse me!" he calls out as Y/N's mom drops her grasp from her, a stern expression on her face. She doesn't even look in Harry's direction but Y/N immediately blinks at him, her eyes wide with fear. "Excuse me, are you Y/N's mom?"
"Who the hell are you?" she hisses, instantly batting him away the second he takes a step forward. Y/N's chest feels tight as she clamors for words, panic rising in her throat.
"My name is Harry. I know your daughter—"
"Like hell you do." she spits, her eyes squinted and beady as she looks over Harry's appearance. It's clear on Y/N's face that she's never been this mortified before, but she can only hope it's because she got caught, not because she got caught with Harry. "I don't know what nonsense you've gotten yourself into, Y/N, but consider it done. We're going home."
The words are on the tip of Y/N's tongue — no, stop, please, I care about him, you don't understand — but the fear of her mother is too paralyzing. Again, her manicured fingers wrap tightly around Y/N's wrist and she pulls at her, making her stumble. 
"Wait— Y/N, you can't seriously—"
"Enough," her mom sneers, tightening her grip, "What do you want? Money? Is that what you're after?"
"What?! No, I told you, I know Y/N—"
"Do you go to school with her? She knows better than to socialize with tattooed lowlives."
His jaw drops and his eyes dart back and forth from Y/N to her mother. Tears line her waterline and she sniffles, looking helpless and desperate — and Harry knows, he can see it right in front of his face how awful her parents are, that they're blatantly abusive and terrible people just because they have money, but for the first time, he actually feels anger bubble up in his throat. Not at her mom, but at Y/N.
"No, I don't go to school with her. Y/N, are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?" he asks, an unusually harsh edge sharpening his voice. 
Since this entire thing began, there's space for Y/N to speak — to potentially defend herself, defend Harry, or to do what she's always done and follow her mother's orders. She knows what she wants to do. Harry knows what he wants her to do.
But instead of taking any action, she flounders.
Harry can see it in her eyes — panic ravishing her body as she opens and closes her mouth like a fish. Normally, he'll tease her for that, but this time, he would do anything to hear her say something. Anything. 
"Clearly you don't know one another at all. Y/N, we're going home. Now."
With a final yank, Y/N falls pliant in her mother's wishes, following her down the street to wherever her car is parked. Harry watches them walk away, sure that she'll turn around and come running back to him.
It's only when their forms become mixed in with the rest of the busy Manhattan sidewalk, little blobs he can barely make out, that he realizes she's not. 
. . .
Y/N doesn't think she's ever felt so shitty in her life.
Her parents have disciplined her in the past for much smaller things — taking her car to campus, missing one of the dates they set up for her. Punishment always came in the form of the silent treatment paired with the confiscation of her car keys and the understanding that she was forbidden to leave the apartment. 
This time is so much worse. 
The second her mother unlocks her car and Y/N climbs in, she's on the receiving end of a piercing slap. She immediately winces and reaches up to cup her stinging cheek, tears streaming down her face from the image of Harry's hurt expression permanently seared into her memory. When she looks at the woman, she's seething.
"You're a disgrace."
Those are the only words she speaks to her the entire drive home.
When they get home, her mother is quick to lay down the ground rules: She's done with graduate school — according to her, they trusted her to know better and solely focus on her education, but they can't rely on her any longer. She'll start working at their company immediately. She'll go out on a date with Arthur Franklin, do what he wants, and marry into their family as soon as humanly possible. And lastly, she's never to be seen with "that boy" or anyone who looks like him ever again.
In two minutes, her life is drawn out for her in the most terrifying way. But she doesn't fight her. She knows it's a losing battle — one that her mother has been winning her entire life. Harry gave her a beautiful experience. He showed her what her life could have been like if she wasn't so scared. 
And when she goes to bed that evening, without dinner of course (her parents gave Freya strict instructions not to make her a portion or allow her to cook anything in the kitchen), she cries for him.
She lets her tears soak into her pillow, dampening the fabric with every sob that breaks free from her chest, and desperately hopes that he doesn't hate her, even if she never sees him again. 
. . .
To: Y/N, 11.19.23, 11:32 a.m.
It's been a few days.. just checking in to make sure you're doing okay.
To: Y/N, 11.20.23, 8:49 a.m.
Please just send me a text so I know you're alright. 
To: Y/N, 11.22.23, 10:28 p.m.
Hey. I'm gonna wait outside your lecture hall tomorrow. I need to know you're okay. Please tell me if you don't want me to come, but I really need to see you. 
To: Y/N, 11.23.23, 4:03 p.m.
Did you skip class today?
To: Y/N, 11.26.23, 1:28 a.m.
If you're avoiding me, that's fine, but this is driving me insane... please just give me a sign or something so I know you're okay. Please Y/N. You can't do this.
. . .
"I just think your father is a great businessman! He's one of the smartest men I've ever worked for and I think we could do something incredible together. Don't you think?"
Y/N gulps down another large sip of wine, flashing a tight smile to Arthur. She never drinks, but she decided that if she was getting through the night, alcohol would serve as a much-needed crutch. They're currently at some smarmy restaurant on the Upper East Side — apparently there's a waitlist of three months, but Arthur was able to just "make a call" and get them a reservation. Y/N thinks she was supposed to be impressed by that, but she could really care less.
It's been a week and a half since she saw Harry last. She never knew heartbreak could be so excruciating, but that line of thinking occurred before she met him. 
In the 27 minutes since their date began — yes, Y/N's been counting — Arthur has only talked about her father. How incredible and smart he is, how he runs such a great business, how he can't wait to have a higher position in the company. 
"Did you hear me?" Arthur asks, stuffing another piece of bread in his mouth. 
"Yeah," she says curtly. "Sorry, did you want me to call my father so you could date him instead?"
Arthur forces out an awkward laugh. "You know, your mom said you had an unusual sense of humor... guess that's just part of your charm, huh?"
Y/N shrugs her shoulders as she picks at her pasta. She's looking straight ahead, eyes empty and zoning out when she thinks she sees a familiar head of long, unruly curls. She perks up, straightening her posture, ignoring Arthur when he assumes her change in body language is in response to whatever nonsense he's droning on about. 
She wills the figure to turn around, her heart tugging — but when he does a mere moment later, she realizes it's not him, just someone with a similar haircut. Her shoulders slump, blinking as she watches the man gently guide his date to their table. 
"Are you okay?" 
Snapping out of her thoughts, she redirects her attention to Arthur. She swallows and nods her head. 
"Yeah. Sorry, thought I saw someone I know."
He hums. "Hm, probably not. Like I said, this restaurant a three-month long waitlist. No one you know could be here."
"Right." she mutters. She drops her fork, suddenly feeling sick, and Arthur's eyes snap up at the clattering sound the metal makes against the ceramic plate. 
"Be careful," he hisses, "This is a nice place, Y/N."
The sting to his tone is instantly reminiscent of her own parents' discipline. She cowers, mumbling out a half-hearted apology, and when she looks up to see his squinted eyes analyzing her every feature, anxiety is quick to spread through her chest and up her throat.
She knew it before tonight — that Arthur was essentially just an extension of her parents, but the fear and apprehension of leaving her family was too paralyzing. But in an instant, it clicked. 
Sitting across from her, Arthur just looks so mean. A curl to his lips, an expression of disgust painted across his face as he studies her, his mouth open in preparation to scold her again. 
She can't do this for the rest of her life. 
She refuses to do this for the rest of her life. 
Her heart is beating out of her chest, shaky hands grabbing the napkin folded neatly in her lap. She places it on the table, moving slowly in hopes that he won't notice, even if she knows it's impossible. 
"What are you doing?"  he asks tightly, eyebrows lowering as she stands from the table. 
"I... I have to do something," Y/N mumbles, "I'm sorry. I have to go."
"What?" Arthur snaps, digging into his pocket to grab his wallet, throwing a few hundred dollar bills down on the table as she rushes out of the restaurant. He's quick to follow her, his stride much larger and faster than hers. He reaches out to grab her elbow and pulls her form to press against his body in the entryway. She gasps out in surprise, freezing her movements. 
"Where are you going?" Arthur repeats through gritted teeth. "We're not done. We're on a date, Y/N."
She swallows and shakes her head jerkily, "I have to do something, I'm sorry, please let me go—"
"Your parents made a deal with me." he says, nostrils flaring, "You're done running. You're mine now."
Her stomach drops. A deal? She's not some kind of pawn in their game and she's not an object that can be moved around whenever they want. In an act of anger, she yanks her arm away from his grasp, taking a step back. 
"I'm not yours. I'm not anybody's. Whatever deal you made with my parents is off."
She grabs the door handle and pushes it open, leaving Arthur — and whatever fucked up future they had planned for her — behind. 
. . .
Harry hasn't been sleeping well. 
It's from a combination of factors, but primarily, it's being on the receiving end of Y/N's silent treatment. He didn't think she would ever do this to him, but maybe he was too naive, looking at their relationship through rose-colored lenses and assuming she'd be strong enough to reject her parents in favor of him.
How stupid.
He sighs and glances at the clock on the wall of his office. When he was seeing Y/N, he never stayed at the shop later than 6 or 7, usually because she wanted to get home before her parents started to wonder. These days, he stays behind until midnight, trying to occupy himself with work so he doesn't have to go home and think about her.
And at first, he thinks he's hallucinating. Who would be knocking on the door to the shop at 9:30, especially with the clear and apparent closed sign? But then the fists get louder, and he wonders if it's someone drunk or high, looking to get a tattoo. (That certainly wouldn't be happening.)
Finally, he hears it — the faintest of familiar voices calling out his name, and he realizes he may not be imagining it. 
He forces himself out, taking large footsteps to the front, his heart beating rapidly when he sees the helpless girl pounding on the door. Quickly, he unlocks it through furrowed brows, immediately letting her in when he sees the distress on her face. 
"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, pulling Y/N inside. "What happened?"
Dried tears leave marks down the apples of her cheeks, her mascara clumpy and stained around her eyes. She sniffles and shakes her head. "I'm so sorry, Harry."
"Y/N, what's going on?" he repeats before locking the door back up. Carefully, he places a hand to the small of her back and guides her to the back, where his office is. He wordlessly encourages her to sit down on the blue velvet couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handing it to her. 
"They're awful," she stammers, "My parents... I'm so sorry, Harry."
"Just tell me what happened," Harry murmurs, carefully rubbing the area between her shoulder blades, "Why are you crying? Did they do something? Are you hurt?"
She shrugs, eyes falling to her lap. "Everything's been terrible." she whispers. "They had me go on a date with someone they want me to marry — when I wanted to leave, he told me that my parents made a deal with him. That I'm his now."
"A deal?" Harry repeats, anger quickly bubbling under his skin, "What does that fucking mean?"
"I don't know. I didn't know about it until tonight."
"Did he do anything to you?" he asks, doing a quick once-over of her appearance. She doesn't look hurt, but she does look beautiful. It makes jealousy rise from the pit of his stomach, knowing she got dressed up for somebody else.
"No. He was really mean, but," she sniffles, shrugging again, "I don't know. He grabbed me."
"Where?" Harry growls. "Where did he grab you?"
Her eyes widen, "J-just my arm. When I was trying to leave, he, um, grabbed my elbow and pulled me back against him."
"Let me see."
Y/N wants to tell him that she's fine, immediately trying to downplay the act, but on the cab ride over, she had time to process how gross it made her feel. That he felt it was appropriate to touch her in that way just because she didn't want to be there — so she allows him to cautiously push up the sleeve of her sweater, analyzing the slightly reddened skin where his hand had been. 
"You're not seeing him again," he mutters, carefully putting her arm down. He reaches over into his desk drawer and grabs a small container of Neosporin, dabbing a bit on the mark and rubbing it in with gentle fingertips. "I don't care if your parents want you to marry him. You will not be with someone who hurts you, Y/N."
"I know," she whispers, "I told him that I wasn't his. That whatever deal they had is off."
Harry's eyes widen. "You did?"
"Yes." she nods sullenly, "I realized that... well, I wanted to leave because I wanted to come see you. I don't want them to control me anymore. I want my own life."
"That's... that's huge, Y/N," Harry murmurs, resisting the urge to surge forward and wrap his arms around her, "What are you gonna do?"
She shrugs. "I haven't gotten that far yet, I guess. But the first step was seeing you and apologizing for that day with my mom."
"It hurt," he admits quietly. "Seeing you walk away... but I guess I didn't fully understand just how bad it was."
"I never wanted to walk away. They just scare me so much. She... she slapped me when we got in the car."
"Dovie," Harry breathes out, the pet name slipping from his mouth, "That's unacceptable, you know that, right? They're abusive."
"I do. I know they're bad." she pauses, swallowing harshly. "I don't want to go back there tonight."
Harry shakes his head. "You're never going back there at all." 
. . .
Harry's apartment is cozy. 
Y/N should have assumed as much, being that his mere presence essentially feels like a warm hug. But when he takes her back to his place and he hesitantly locks the door, murmuring out an apology about how messy things are, she can't but smile gently at all the very Harry decor touches: A record player next to a large collection of his favorite albums, framed pictures and polaroids tacked up onto his fridge of his friends, family, and loved ones, and just about ten cozy throw blankets and pillows strewn across his couch. 
He apologizes for how small it is and Y/N scoffs — she couldn't care less about the size of his place, instead being completely enamored by the fact that it's his.
She's analyzing the refrigerator door, eyes glued to a photo strip of him and his sister when she feels a gentle hand at her hip, giving it a squeeze. 
"Do you wanna change, dove?" Harry asks quietly, his breath ghosting over the back of her neck. 
She nods, pinching at the fabric of her dress. Suddenly, her tights feel too restrictive and her feet ache from the heels her mother forced her into hours earlier. 
"I don't have any clothes, though."
He chuckles lightly. "I can give you some, silly." 
"Are you sure?" Y/N asks, turning to look at him. Her lips part nervously when she sees how close he is to her. "You're already doing so much for me tonight."
"What, would you prefer to waltz around naked, then?"
Her signature blush appears in seconds and it makes a lopsided grin appear nearly instantly on Harry's face. He can tell that she's about to whine his name out in her typical chagrined way and he laughs. 
"Kidding, princess," he mumbles, "But I wouldn't mind if you wanted to."
"You're too much." Y/N grumbles, though the small smile on her lips says differently. She couldn't deny how much she missed Harry over the past two weeks — not only the place he holds in her life, but from a physical, intimate standpoint, too.
"C'mon, I'll get you some sweats."
She follows him to his bedroom, her stomach prickling with nerves as he guides her to the bed, instructing her to take a seat. He traipses over to his dresser and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants and a baggy tee-shirt. It says hot and heavy on the back, and she remembers she blushed just from reading it the first time she saw him wear it.
He gives her a moment of privacy to change, shutting the bedroom door quietly. With a deep breath, she kicks her heels off, peels her tights down her legs, and pulls her dress up and over her body. It's a relief to finally change into cozy clothes that smell like Harry, and she can't believe she's really here — when they were seeing each other before, she'd dreamt of being able to go over to his house and see what it looked like. She was always just too scared that her parents would find her, or even call the cops when she didn't come home early enough.
Now, she still cares, but it feels like Harry's there to protect her — and that makes it seem a little less scary.
There's a knock at the door, pulling her from her thoughts. With her old clothes folded up neatly, she opens it, revealing a sleepy looking Harry. 
"All changed?" 
She nods, opening the door a little wider to reveal her appearance. His jaw drops and a single "fuck" leaves his lips.
Y/N's eyes widen, worried that she's done something wrong. Quickly, he flounders, stammering like she normally does. 
"Are you alright?" she asks, a look of concern covering her face. He nods, swallowing harshly.
"Um. Yeah, sorry." he coughs into his hand, "Fuck, this is embarrassing— you just— um, you look really fucking hot in my clothes."
She raises her eyebrows, glancing down at the outfit. His sweatpants pool at her ankles and the shirt, which is oversized on his torso, goes down to the middle of her thighs. She supposes he may be able to see her breasts through the white fabric of the tee, but otherwise, she doesn't understand why it's such an attractive sight to him.
"Shit, I need to— I'm sorry, Y/N, this definitely isn't what you need tonight—" he's inching backwards and towards the bathroom on the side of the hallway when she sees it — a very large and apparent erection straining through his black jeans. 
"Oh," she mumbles, "Do you...? We can, like, do stuff if you... if you wanted..."
"No!" he groans, turning to face the wall and pressing his forehead against it, "Just— no, dovie, thank you for the offer but I just feel like I'd be taking advantage of you after such a long night, yeah? So lemme just— I'm gonna take care of this in the bathroom and you can get comfy in the bed, okay?"
He's gone in a flash, the bathroom door locked before she even has a chance to reply. She bites her lip, hoping he's not secretly annoyed at her for asking if he wanted to do something sexual. She's too tired to overthink it though, so she turns on her heel, walks back into his room, and climbs under the blankets.
She's nearly asleep when he returns, soft footsteps padding across the length of the wood floors. She hears a quiet whisper of her name and she peeks an eye open to see Harry standing over her. 
"'m gonna sleep outside on the couch, but let me know if you need anything, alright?" 
She swallows, reaching out to grab his hand in a sleepy haze. His eyebrows raise as she bites her lip. "Can you just... stay for a minute? Until I fall back asleep?"
And truly, Harry couldn't deny her even if he wanted to. 
So he nods his head and, to his surprise, she moves over so he has room to crawl in. He does, at first maintaining a sliver of distance between them, until she looks up at him, her hair mussed from laying back against his pillows, an expectant and wide-eyed look on her face.
"Need me to hold you, dovie?"
Y/N nods, immediately clinging to his body like a magnet. He smiles gently and wraps his arms around her form, pulling her onto her side and into his chest, smoothing her hair down as he presses an occasional kiss to her forehead. They've cuddled at the shop a few times, but nothing like this — not an all-consuming, full body experience that has Harry feeling like he's in heaven. She smells so good, her skin is so warm, and she's wrapped up in his clothes — he doesn't think he could ask for anything more in this moment.
Just as he thinks she's fallen asleep, he hears a soft voice muffled into his sweatshirt. He glances down, wondering if she's just talking in her sleep. Instead, he's met with tired, sweet eyes.
"What was that?" he whispers, swiping his knuckle lightly over her cheek.
"Thank you," she mumbles. "For today."
"I would do anything for you, princess. Hope you know that."
She yawns with a shake of her head. "That's a silly thing to promise."
. . .
When Y/N wakes up the next morning, she's under the weight of a long haired man that, for the past two weeks, only existed in her dreams.
It's jarring for him to actually exist in her reality now, but even more so that she stayed over at his place and slept in the same bed as him.
Less than 24 hours away from her parents and she's already crossed off another first off her list.
But the blissful moment of realization is quickly stripped away when the events of last night come flooding back to her — the date with Arthur, his rough nature, the supposed deal between him and her parents. Her parents who were an entirely different issue on their own — she feels a dull throb aching behind her temples just as the thought of how they're planning to lure her back, worry seeping into her bones when she realizes she hasn't checked her phone since they left the tattoo shop last night.
Harry must feel her panicked thoughts rising because he blinks his eyes open to see a prominent furrow between her eyebrows. Without her realizing it, he moves carefully, raising his thumb to smooth it away.
"What're you stressing about so early in the morning?" he rasps out. She swallows, moving onto her side to face him.
"They've probably issued out a search party by now."
"Mm, can't do that. You're not considered a missing person until it's been 48 hours."
His joke clearly doesn't land when Y/N squints her eyes at him. Instead, he quickly wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. 
"It's gonna be okay, Y/N. I promised you would never go back there and I meant it," he explains lowly, pressing a light kiss to the shell of her ear. "What if you just text them and tell them that you're done? You're over 18, there's no reason why they can keep doing this."
Her eyes close as she relaxes into his chest, enjoying the sensation of his vibrating chest from his deep voice. 
"I'm too scared to look at my phone." she admits quietly. "I can't imagine the mean things they've written to me."
"Do you want me to look?" Harry asks softly, using his hand to tilt her head up to look at him. 
She shrugs. "If you do, can you maybe not tell me what they say? Just tell me the important stuff?"
"Course."
She nods and sits up, reaching onto his night stand for her phone. With a deep breath, she hands it to him before rolling over onto her other side to face the wall. 
He runs his fingers up and down her spine as he goes through her missed texts. There's one or two from that prick Arthur, but they're nothing important — just an ask that she calls him when she's feeling better (he resists the urge to block his number altogether). But otherwise... well, he's admittedly shocked at what he finds.
"Is it bad?" she asks, wedging her thumbnail between her teeth.
"Um..." Harry presses his lips into a thin line, rolling them into his mouth. "You didn't block their numbers or anything, right?"
"No."
"Dove... I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but... there's nothing."
She flips onto her back, a stunned expression painting her face. "What?"
"They didn't text or call, sweetheart. I'm... I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, but... you just had some missed texts from that guy from last night."
"How is that possible?" she asks when he hands her phone to her, "I— do you think they haven't noticed?"
"I'm not sure. You said they've been on you more often lately, I would assume that they'd be waiting up for you last night, right?"
She shrugs, "Yeah. Probably."
"On the other hand, though, it could mean that... well, maybe you're home free, dovie," Harry says, treading carefully in case he accidentally upsets her, "We can take the day to relax. I don't have to go into work today and we can figure out your next steps, if you'd like."
With a heavy sigh, she nods her head and sits up a little straighter, running her hand through her messy bedhead. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"
"Sure," Harry mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before allowing his feet to touch the chilly wood floor of his bedroom. "I'll get you set up in the bathroom."
She doesn't reply to that so Harry decides to leave her be, instead deciding to show his affection in an act of service. He starts by running the shower on the perfect temperature — not too hot but not too cool either, just so steam begins to steadily fill the room — and picks out his plushiest towels for when she's done. He finishes by lighting his favorite candle for her, moseying back out to his bedroom to fetch her a new pair of sweats. 
She's on her feet when he returns, scrolling on her phone with her lips pressed into a straight line. Silently, he grabs another pair of his sweatpants and a tee-shirt and reaches out for her hand; a wordless request to follow him. 
She does, pliantly, but not before peering up at him with eyes that tell him everything: She's sad. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.
"Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Harry murmurs, folding her new clothes on the covered toilet seat. "You're obviously free to use whatever you want in there."
Swallowing harshly, she begins to tug at the hem of her borrowed tee-shirt before he has the chance to scamper out of the room. His eyes widen — he feels like a dick, she probably wants to be alone and now he's standing her ogling at her breasts like an idiot — but she simply stares at him with blank eyes.
"Can you... distract me?" she asks softly, her torso now bare, "It's— it's just been too much and I miss you. A lot."
Harry breathes in sharply. "I don't know if that's a good idea, dovie... it's been an emotional time for you."
"I know that," she mumbles, biting her bottom lip. "I just— I wanna feel normal again, Harry. Like how things were before. When we could just kiss and hang out and I didn't feel like I'm gonna burst into flames at any point."
"I know," Harry nods understandingly and bumps his hip against the sink. "But things are different now, princess. And I don't want to do something that you'll regret later because you were feeling down."
She shakes her head quickly, taking a step towards him. The steam from the shower has effectively warmed the bathroom, making beads of sweat pearl at his hairline. Well, that and the topless girl in front of him. 
"I would never regret anything we do," she says, "Even when I tried to stay away from you, I didn't regret a single moment."
"Really?"
"Of course not," she replies, keeping her gaze set on him, "Sometimes, I, um... I even played with myself. Thinking of you."
"Jesus Christ."
He lets out a frustrated groan and closes the bathroom door, tugging his own tee-shirt up and over his body to reveal his heavily inked chest and arms. In a minute, his hands are on her, squeezing her sides as he presses her back against the wall. 
"Tell me more," he mutters, leaning down and sponging kisses along her jawline and down to her neck. "What did you do? What did you think about?"
The sudden physicality makes it hard for her to breathe, let alone talk, but she tries to anyway, knowing that he'll tease her into oblivion if she doesn't at least make an attempt. With his fingers curling into the waistband of the sweatpants she wears, she tries to remember the nights when all she could think about was him. 
"Thought about— oh—" her sentence is interrupted when he nips at the crook of her neck, his fingers dipping beneath her panties to lightly roll over her clit. She leans her head back but, as expected, he attempts to keep her on task, using his other hand to gently squeeze the sides of her neck. "T-thought about you touching me... l-like this."
"Like what?" 
"This," she repeats through a gasp when he starts to apply a bit more pressure to her clit, pressing small circles into the nerves. 
"Don't know what that means, dove. Gotta spell it out for me. Where was I touching you?"
Y/N moans when one of his fingers dips into her pulsating hole, just enough to make her clench, her knees weakening. He squeezes her neck again, this time a bit tighter, and her eyes roll back. 
"Where was I touching you, Y/N?" 
"D-down there." she says breathily.
"Down where?"
She knows there's no way she's getting out of this, and the rhythmic pulsing of her clit is only a reminder of the power he holds over her in this moment. She whimpers, swallowing harshly when he removes his finger, keeping the tip inside. 
"Tell me," he encourages lowly, licking over the sensitive part of her neck he found a few weeks back. "Don't you wanna be my dirty girl again?"
"Y-you were touching my pussy." she mumbles, her cheeks burning. She can feel his smirk, the way his lips curl against her skin. As promised, he dips his finger back in, curling it up against the spot that has her fluttering her eyes closed, and resumes the soft circles into her clit. 
"I was touching your pussy? That's a naughty thing for a sweet girl like you to imagine," he lowers, placing open-mouthed kisses down her naked chest. "And what were you doing while you thought of that, hm?"
Y/N gasps wetly as he pulses his finger steadily, a groan falling from his own lips when he feels her arousal gush out around his hand. Based on how long it took her to refer to her own anatomy, Harry doesn't have high expectations for her explaining how she touched herself, so it's a given that he'll help push her along. 
"Did you grind your little clit on your hand?" he asks as he lowers to his knees, tugging the sweatpants down her legs and pressing kisses to her exposed stomach. "Or did you hump one of those cute stuffed animals you have on your bed?"
She pants heavily at that, a soundless lightbulb illuminating above his head. Bingo.
"Don't think I didn't notice those little stuffies in your bedroom from when you'd send me pretty pictures of yourself," he murmurs into her hips, nipping at the stretch marks on her stomach, "Is that what you would do when you thought of me? Hump your cute bunny, moaning, wishing I was there to take care of you?"
She nods her head, quickly and haphazardly. He pushes his lips over her mound, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake as he continues his journey down to her pussy. She's wet, perhaps even more so than he's ever seen her before, her juices leaking from where his finger is buried deep inside down to his wrist. 
"Please," she whimpers from above, making him glance up at her, "Just— just want you. Please."
"You have me, dovie." he replies easily, pushing a second finger in and nestling it close to the first. 
"N-no. Want you. All of you."
He swallows and sits back on his heels. She has no idea how badly he wants that, and if it were anyone else in the world, he'd probably say yes. But it's her — his sweet, innocent girl that showed up at his tattoo shop one day and hasn't left his brain for one second since — and he knows that right now isn't the time for them.
"I'll give you that as soon as things get better," he murmurs, keeping his gaze set on her. "But you deserve so much more than to be fucked for the first time against a bathroom wall. Wanna take you out, make it romantic."
She blinks, taking a moment to process his polite rejection, nevertheless slowly nodding her head. He leans forward and presses another light kiss to her mound, just below her stomach. 
"Y'wanna know something, though?"
Again, she nods, and he begins to slowly curl his fingers up against her g-spot once more.
"I love the fact that I've corrupted you," he mutters, kissing down to her hood, right where her clit is peeking out. He licks just above there and she moans, pushing her hips out slightly as a wordless request to keep moving down. "Remember when you were that polite girl coming in with her friend? And now you're at my place, begging for my cock, asking me to take your virginity."
"Uh-huh," she mewls as his lips wrap around her clit, sucking perfectly in time with his thrusting fingers. 
He pauses his movements for a moment, just enough for a demand: "Say it," he says, immediately returning to the assault on her most sensitive parts. 
"Y-you corrupted me," she breathes, punctuating the sentiment with a whimper when he harshens his sucking, "I'm yours— oh, I'm yours, daddy—"
"That's right." he uses his other hand to part her pussy lips, spitting squarely on her clit, even if she doesn't need any more lubrication. He switches to kitten licking the bundle of nerves, feeling her hole beginning to clench violently around his fingers. "Cum for me like a good girl. Missed feeling your little pussy squeeze me like this."
That's all it takes for her to cum, her body feeling like it's exploding into a million stars as his tongue and fingers work her through the intense pleasure. He's groaning from the taste of her arousal that drools out from her pussy, the feeling of haphazard pulsations the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He loves watching her — her head ducked back slightly, her eyes squeezed closed, and the prettiest whimpers falling from plushy lips. 
"S-sensitive," she finally stutters out and Harry nods, gently pulling his fingers out. They immediately find their way into his mouth as he rises back up to his feet. When he's finished licking them clean, he grabs her jaw. 
"Open."
She does. Her lips part, opening her mouth, her pink tongue laying dormant inside. With a smirk, his eyes flicker up to hers before he spits into her mouth. 
It takes her by surprise, her body jolting slightly, but her sensitive pussy twitches from the act. 
"Swallow."
Slowly, she closes her mouth, swallowing the combination of his spit with her arousal. A moment later, she opens it again to show him there's nothing left.
"Fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, you're incredible."
She smiles gently, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Can we shower now?"
Harry chuckles and nods, guiding her into the steaming stream of water.
. . .
"Okay, princess. Repeat the plan back to me."
Y/N is doing her best to fight off a panic attack as she sits in the passenger's seat of Harry's car. Swallowing harshly, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she restates the steps they'd decided on last night.
"We're gonna go up to their apartment and go straight to my bedroom. If they're there, I'm going to ignore them and let you do the talking. I won't listen to anything rude they say to me."
"That's right. What do we do when we're in your room?"
"We're gonna pack up my things, but only the necessities. Most things can be repurchased." 
"Exactly. We're going for important things that you don't wanna leave behind."
She nods, watching the city streets slowly progress to the familiar high-end stores and supermarkets she grew up around. Suddenly, the blocks were far more sanitary and well taken care of. It made her stomach flutter in the worst way, being back here after spending the past few days at Harry's house in her newly preferred neighborhood.
In a stroke of luck, Harry had a friend that was looking for a roommate. Apparently, they'd worked together as tattoo apprentices a few years back and they still kept in touch. Her name was Lucy, and Harry had even set up a coffee date between the three of them so they could sit down before Y/N made any big decisions. She had been really nervous about it, but Lucy turned out to be incredibly nice and understanding. 
Y/N explained her situation to her, only to receive an abundance of kindness in return — she said that she would love to have her move in with her, that she was a pretty quiet person to live with and worked most days while Y/N would be in school. (She missed around two weeks of classes because of her parents, but Harry convinced her to meet with her professors and tell them she had a family emergency. Thankfully, they were fine with it, and with a little extra studying and hunkering down, she thinks she can still end the semester with low Bs.) 
With her living situation figured out and Y/N back to being a full-time student, the only thing left to address was her parents. In an ideal world, she would never have to deal with them again, but she knows that's unrealistic. They still haven't reached out to her despite it being a full week since she went back to Harry.
And while she wants to run away and abandon her former life, Harry convinced her that she had things she'd regret leaving behind. Not to mention, since starting grad school, she started saving money from her parents in the event that she somehow received an opportunity to get away from them. It wasn't enough to sustain her forever, but it would be good enough for a few months of bills and rent until she gets a job.
When Harry parks in the lot under her parents' apartment building, she feels nauseous. She ignores the sleek black Range Rover that's still parked in her assigned spot — she has no desire to take it, especially because it was just another way for her parents to pretend they were giving her freedom when they were just controlling her even more.
Wordlessly, they get in the elevator. Y/N's nibbling on her bottom lip to the point of near-blood draw while Harry thumbs over her knuckles, pressing a light kiss to her palm when the elevator dings at their arrival.
Standing outside of their apartment door, Y/N rolls her shoulders back to stand up straighter. She can feel Harry's presence close behind her and it brings her comfort, knowing that she's not going in this alone. He murmurs out a near-whisper of encouragement ("you can do this") before she punches in the door code. She's surprised when it works — she'd been half expecting them to change the codes so she couldn't come back.
Hesitantly and with intertwined fingers, Y/N leads them to her bedroom. The apartment is silent, which typically means her parents are gone, but her anxiety is too overwhelming for her to trust it. 
Which she supposes is for good reason, because when she opens the door to her room, her mother is sitting on her bed.
"Y/N," she says, eyes roaming inquisitively from her daughter to the man she's holding hands with. "I saw you coming up on the security cameras."
A bead of panic drips down her spine. Harry squeezes her hand and steps forward, clearly prepared to reply, when Y/N stops him. 
"Why are you here?" Y/N asks. Harry looks at her with a confused expression but he takes a step back, ready to defend her if needed. "You haven't contacted me for a week."
"Well, this is my property, Y/N. You're trespassing."
"Okay." she sighs, looking up at Harry. "Just give us a minute then, we just want to grab some of my stuff and we'll be gone."
"And this is who you'll be living with?" her mom quirks an eyebrow. "This... person from the bookstore that day?"
"He tried talking to you. You had no interest."
"Well I would think you would defend your boyfriend better than that. How was I supposed to know?"
Y/N grits her teeth and shakes her head, "Again, mother, just give us a minute. I'm not taking any furniture or anything valuable, just a few keepsakes."
"You're abandoning this family, I hope you know that," her mother spits as Y/N begins to rustle through her desk, grabbing some pictures and notebooks. Silently, she hands them to Harry, who carefully slips everything in the tote bag around his shoulder. "Your father is so disappointed. So are the Franklins! I mean, you left Arthur alone like that on your first date! And for what, a lifetime of struggling for money?"
"Not everything is about money!" Y/N exclaims, turning around. Harry's eyebrows shoot up — he's never seen her get angry before. "Besides that, you promised me off to Arthur like I'm some kind of object! Who does that?!"
"It was for the better of the company and the family, Y/N, don't be dramatic—"
"Well I didn't want that! I never did!" she shouts, "I want to live my own life! With my boyfriend! Who, by the way, I'm not living with! He's just helping me get on my feet, but even if I was moving in with him, it wouldn't matter, because it's not your life! You don't get to make my decisions anymore!"
Her mother scoffs and Y/N rolls her eyes. When she finds her envelope of money deep at the bottom of her dresser, she grabs a few pairs of pants and sweaters, sticking it between the layers of fabric to pass off to Harry. He tucks them all away. 
"You know you're cut off after this, right?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is it. You walk out that door, you're never allowed back. Don't ask us for a single cent."
Bristled, Y/N lets out a humorless chuckle as she heads for the door, Harry right behind her. They cross the length of the apartment and she slams the down button to the elevator, turning around to look at her mother for the last time.
"I never want to come back, mother. Goodbye."
The click of her mother's heels are the last thing she hears as they enter the elevator and ride down to the parking lot.
. . .
When they get into Harry's car, he realizes it's been a solid five minutes since Y/N has said anything. 
He doesn't want to pressure her — he knows that what just happened was a lot, and when he was reading articles like how to help your partner leave an abusive family last night, they all instructed him to go at her pace. So, that's what he decides to do.
The interior of the car is silent as they drive out of the lot and away from her parents, the boring, dull building just a reflection in the rearview mirror. He doesn't want to turn the radio on and make it seem like he doesn't care, but he also doesn't want to say something stupid and upset her further. 
It's only when he hears a sound resembling a giggle that he looks over at Y/N, a concerned furrow in his brow. 
But she is laughing. 
The most beautiful grin is covering her face as she lets out loud laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. She shakes her head, looking at Harry, whose confused expression only makes her laugh even harder.
"Dovie, are you alright?" he asks, pulling the car over in preparation for a full meltdown. 
"I—" her words are cut off by another peel of laughter and she takes another moment to pull herself together, "Oh my god— I would've done that years ago if I knew it'd be that easy!"
This time, Harry chuckles, a wave of relief washing over him.
"I'm so proud of you," he says, leaning over to pull her hands into his lap. "You stood up for yourself. You left. I couldn't be happier for you."
"Thank you," she bubbles, her cheeks flushed from her laughter, "I'm so happy. Thank you so much, Harry... I'm just so thankful for you."
He shakes his head, "I'll do anything for you, princess."
Y/N leans over to kiss him lightly, a smile continuing to curl at the edges of her lips. "I love you, you know."
Harry grins.
"Yeah, I love you, too."
. . .
The bell above the front door of St. Mark's Social Club rings as Y/N steps inside. She smiles politely at Jo, the kind receptionist that sits at the front desk (the same one that checked Mai in a few months ago). She's still getting comfortable with all the different employees and characters that come in and out of Harry's tattoo shop, but her socialization skills have definitely improved since moving out.
She walked over as soon as she got out of class. Lately, she's been staying on campus a bit later to do some studying for finals, but today's Friday. Over the past few weeks as Y/N's adjusted to her new life of living on her own and officially dating Harry, they've designated Friday nights as theirs, whether it mean curling up on the couch with a pizza or heading out to a bar with some of Harry's employees. (More often than not, it's the former — despite Harry being the more social of the two, he's always eager to get his hands on her after a day of being away from one another.)
He's wrapping up his last client of the day when Y/N peeks into his station, waving with a small smile. Harry's stoic and focused expression instantly transforms into one of excitement.  
"Hey dove," he greets as he tears off a clear piece of plastic to cover his client's new tattoo. (Y/N's since learned that it's called Saniderm, and it's apparently some way of helping fresh tattoos heal faster.) "You can put your stuff down in my office, I'll be there in a sec."
She nods and bounces off to the small room at the end of the hallway. Instantly, she lays back against the velvet couch in the corner, placing her backpack on the floor. As promised, Harry walks in a few minutes later, pulling off his plastic gloves and tossing them in the garbage can. 
"How was your day?" he asks, leaning down to peck her lips. She hums, hands in her lap as he smiles down at her.
"Good. Class was boring, I was excited to come see you."
"Oh yeah?" he smirks, "You better have been paying attention and not letting your mind wander with those dirty thoughts of yours."
Y/N rolls her eyes. "Harry, you're the one that tries to have phone sex, like, every night."
"We'll get there one day, I think."
She laughs and shakes her head, crossing her legs. "What are you in the mood to eat for dinner tonight?"
"Mm, not sure," he replies, "I forgot, I have one deal to do before we head out for the day. 's why I came around to begin with. I hope that's alright."
She nods her head, "Yeah, that's fine."
"Thanks, princess," he murmurs, leaning forward to press a light kiss to her nose. "Who'd have thought, three months ago yo@u'd be dating the hot tattoo artist that sells weed on the side?"
"You're silly," she mumbles with a giggle, "But... to be honest, I never thought this is what my life would look like three months ago."
"I'm sure. Are you happy with it, though?"
Y/N has to bite her lip from grinning too hard. 
"I don't think I could be any happier, Harry."
She squeals when he pushes her back against the length of the sofa to press kisses all over her face.
. . .
TAGS:
I know I asked people forever ago if they wanted to be tagged for my new writing and I'm literally just doing it now grjetkjre but please feel free to message me if that's changed ! (if your name is in italics it didn't work!)
@tenaciousperfectionunknown @cookielovesbook-akie @cali-888 @harrysolaf @gnomerry @vamprry @onllyyaangelbyhs @harrystylessslut @lovelylly @straightontilmornin @rizosrizo26 @redlightalexa @velvetballaspark @uniquesexything @canyonmoondreams @ghoststyles @whoreonmondays @esnyhoney @imnevergonnabloganything @honeyharlows @gem1712 @harryscherri @forgetdelaney
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crxss01 · 10 months
Text
— Finally
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ percy jackson x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ you and percy confess to each other after an argument while you both fought a monster.
warnings ✧˖ ° violence (they are fighting a monster), making out in the middle of a fight, curse words.
m. list, main m.list.
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"you do know that this is all your fault, right?" percy yelled at you as you both fought the scythian dracanae side by side.
"my fault? what the fuck are you—" you looked at him in disbelief but then regretted doing so when the she-monster took the opportunity to take a swing at you with one of her serpent trunks.
percy deflected the attack that was made towards you, pushing you out of the way. "stay focus!" he yelled.
"i will when you stop blaming every misfortune on me!" you yelled and attacked the female reptile.
"sssssstop, your argument givessss me a headache!" the monster demanded.
"you can get headaches?" percy asked with a chuckled.
you couldn't deny that it sounded so goddamn attractive, and it made you more mad than you were already.
"shut up, percy." you told him. "stay focus, remember?"
"here you go again." he complained, now fighting the dracanae on his own as you were knocked off your feet. "you okay?"
"yes, i'm okay." you answered, just laying there for a second going over memories of decisions you had made and regretting them before standing back up and holding onto your sword tightly.
"good, because you keep getting distracted. stop that or you will get yourself killed."
this bitch.
you rolled your eyes but he was right, you needed to stay focus on the fight. you briefly wondered why it was taking so long since percy was an excellent fighter and he could've killed the dracanae in five minutes flat.
"why. haven't. you. kill. this. thing." you panted out, landing a blow after each word.
"i don't know, maybe i wanted to spend time with you." he said sarcastically or at least you thought it was.
"very funny." you said dryly, why did he have to play with you like that.
"is not a joke though." percy said, feeling a bust of courage.
your head snapped to him so fast that you thought you might have gotten whiplash. "what?"
"look, i know this isn't the most convenient moment to say this but i’m full of adrenaline so imma take the chance to tell you that i like you." percy sighed and stopped fighting.
the dracanae stood there staring at the scene of you two completely forgetting about her.
"unfortunately for you..." you made a face, just for the drama of it and watched percy's face slowly fall. "i like you too."
percy let out a dry chuckle, throwing his head back with another sigh then shaking his head. "i hate you so much..." he mumbled then walked to you.
he grabbed your face between his hands and attached his lips to yours. you dropped your sword, putting your arms around his neck and kissing him back with as much passion as he was. it was so addicting, the smell of sea salt and the taste of blueberries of his lips was driving you crazy from just a few seconds of kissing.
you two separated then leaned back in after taking a few deep breath's, this was exactly what you needed right now. you could kiss him all day and not get tired of it. his hands came down from your face to your neck, to your shoulder until they rested against your hips.
"how dare you two do thissssss infront of me!! thisss issss—" the dracanae got interrupted by the humidity coming off the ground and turning to water that engulfed around her, drowning her voice inside of it.
you unfortunately couldn't see that at the time because you were too busy kissing percy jackson, your boyfriend? maybe.
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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targaryenluvs · 3 months
Text
— BEST LIFE
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pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)
summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?
warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey
wordcount: 1.7k
a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋
when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.
what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.
“you’re sitting here,”
“uh-huh.”
“telling me,”
“yup.”
“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”
you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.
“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”
your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.
“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”
“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”
“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”
“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”
“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”
“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”
your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.
derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.
“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.
what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.
penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”
and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.
you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.
“and how much would he loose?”
“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”
“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”
reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.
“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?
spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.
“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”
spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”
spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.
as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?
“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.
“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”
lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.
his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.
right now, you were living your best life.
984 notes · View notes
honeyedmiller · 1 month
Text
A Burning Desire part two
firefighter!joel x f!reader
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rating: 18+ minors dni
warnings: joel miller au, mentions of food / eating, literally so much tooth-rotting fluff it’s actually sickening, reader can sit on joel’s lap, mutual pining, kissing, dry humping, no use of y/n.
word count: 6.2k
synopsis: joel takes you on your first date with him.
a/n: special thank you to @punkshort for the meeting at the firehouse idea and for letting me ramble about the infinite ideas i have for this story in our dms. i appreciate the heck outta you
part one here
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The summer sun gleamed on you as you made your way up to the firehouse he worked at. The big red doors were open and inviting, the shiny red trucks sitting perfectly still in the apparatus bay as you shyly stepped into the building. 
You carried a tray of cookies you made yourself, wanting to give it to the team as a thank you for being on the scene of your accident and getting you out safely. Well, they were mostly for Joel, Tommy, and the EMT’s. You weren’t able to see Joel in a few days and it drove you sort of crazy, so this was a perfectly good excuse. Joel would probably get teased by his coworkers again, and you’d probably get brought into the mix. It didn’t matter if it meant you got to see him.
It was odd, admitting that to yourself. You’d been single and alone for so long that you were used to the feeling of loneliness, but after meeting Joel, it genuinely sucked not being in his presence. You’ve only known the man for about a week, which made you feel even crazier for feeling this way. 
The way you felt around him was almost unexplainable. Light. Happy. You didn’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not, which you had to do more often than not with your job. 
Being around Joel Miller was like a tall glass of the purest, most refreshing water on Earth. 
“Hey miss, can I help you?” A kind voice snaps you back to reality. The man was wiping his hands with a dish rag, a small smile on his face as he eyed what you had in your hands. 
“Uh– yeah, actually, I came to drop these off for everyone. And uh– is Joel available?” 
You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so shy. Maybe you were just worried as to what his coworkers would think about you coming to his job to ask to see him. 
The man had a knowing smirk on his face and nodded. 
“Ah, so you must be Miller’s mystery woman,” He laughs, jutting his chin up the steps. “He’s up there. Follow me.” 
Your face heats up from his words. Joel talks about you to them? 
You follow him up the stairs to the second floor where the lounge area and kitchen were. Many of them were gathered at the kitchen table while they ate, and a few others were playing a video game in the lounge area. 
“Hey Miller.” The man calls out, and first Tommy turns around with a piece of garlic bread hanging out of his mouth as he plates what looks like lasagna. You have to stifle a laugh at the confused look on his face, but then your heart skips a beat when your eyes land on Joel. 
He’s writing something down in a book, and he looks up at the man before his eyes flit to you. A grin spreads on his lips as you give him a shy smile and a small wave. He stands up from the table he was sitting at after capping his pen, making his way over to you. 
“Darlin’, this is such a nice surprise. Whatcha doin’ here?” He brings you into a hug, and catches himself refraining from giving you a kiss of any sort. He already got enough teasing from his coworkers and brother. 
“I made cookies for everyone. As a thank you, you know, for getting me out of that nasty accident.” 
His eyes soften at your words, eyebrows furrowing together as he takes the plate from your hand. 
“That’s so sweet of you. Thank you. I know these goons over here will devour these.” He motions his head to his coworkers behind him. 
You laugh as you look behind him, all of his coworkers' heads turned your way as they watch the interaction between you two. 
“You busy later tonight?” His voice drops a few octaves, setting the plate on the counter before he coaxes you to follow him downstairs again. 
“Nope. Just watching reruns of The Bachelor.” 
Joel quirks a brow at your show choice with a smile laced onto his lips. 
“Would you mind if I stopped by later? I feel bad I haven’t been able to see you.” 
“Don’t feel bad, Joel. I know you work odd hours,” You pause as he takes you into the locker rooms for some more privacy, away from prying eyes. “But of course you can come over. I’d love the company.” 
“Great. Maybe I can pick up some take-out and we can eat it at your place?” He’s hopeful with a sparkle in his eyes that makes your stomach flutter, once again. 
“Sounds great. I’ll text you the address when you get off work.” 
“I look forward to seein’ you. Y’know, away from nosey people.” He chuckles, referring to his coworkers. You admire the crinkle around his eyes when he smiles. 
“I look forward to it too, Joel,” You lean in and press your lips to his cheek. “I’ll see you later, cowboy.” You give him a wink before turning around to walk off, leaving him standing there with the goofiest grin plastered on his face. 
-
A few hours had passed by since you stopped off at the firehouse, and you were tidying up last minute things before Joel came over. 
You hadn’t had someone over at your place in a long time besides family, so a part of you wanted to impress him a little. 
He’d be over any minute now and you couldn’t stop your heart from racing. You don’t know what it was, but Joel just made you so nervous in the best way possible. You felt like a teenager all over again with a crush you’d giggle with your friends about—but in this case, it was your sister. 
Just as you finished fluffing up the last pillow on the couch, you heard a knock on your door. 
You checked through the peephole just to be sure it was Joel, and when you saw it was, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your lips. You open the door to him wearing more casual clothes, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that hugged his biceps really well, holding a bag of takeout in his hand. 
“Hey darlin’.” He greets you with a smile on his face, and you move aside to let him in. 
“Hey Joel.” You close the door after he’s in, locking the top lock before turning around to face him. 
“Where should I set up this gourmet feast?” He teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he holds up the bag of Chinese food. 
You huff a laugh and nod toward the dining room table. “There’s fine. Let me get some plates.” 
You make your way to the cabinets in your kitchen, pulling down two plates for the both of you before you turn around, only to be met with the close proximity of Joel. You gasp and look at him, biting your lip to keep from smiling. 
Goddamn teenager. 
“So, I figured out where I wanna take ya for our first date.” He starts, leaning against the counter.
“I thought this was our first date.” You blink, eyes shifting to the delicious smelling Chinese food sitting on your dining room table just waiting to be devoured. 
Joel snorts and crosses his arms, “You kiddin’ me? As much as I like bein’ in your company, this ain’t a date, darlin’. You deserve better than a half-assed plan to eat takeout and watch that one show you like.” 
You look down at your socked feet, having never really felt like a priority anytime you were involved romantically with someone. You barely even know this man and he’s already shown more effort toward you than some men of your past. 
“Baby, look at me,” Joel tilts your chin up again so your gaze meets his, and he gives you a soft smile that makes your insides absolutely melt. “As long as I’m around, I’m gonna make sure you feel important. It’s the least you deserve.” 
And you want to believe him, so fucking bad. There’s this stupid nagging voice in the back of your head telling you that what he’s saying isn’t true—you don’t deserve to feel important and being single was the best decision you could’ve made for yourself. 
You force those thoughts to drown for now, focusing on him and his gentle gaze. 
“Thank you.” You give him a small smile, and his hand moves to cup your cheek, swiping his thumb back and forth. 
“‘Course. But, I gotta get somethin’ off my chest before we take this whole datin’ thing any further.” 
You furrow your brows, and the way his gaze shifts to a pleading look makes you nervous. What could it possibly be? 
“I know this ain’t for everyone, and I understand if you don’t wanna see me anymore after this–” He pauses, lips twisting to the side as his eyes move to the ground, “But I really hope this doesn’t change what we got goin’ on. I really do like you, darlin’.” 
“What is it, Joel?” You can’t even concentrate on the sweet words that just oozed out of his mouth. Your stomach was coiling into an unwanted knot, endless possibilities of what he has to say in mind. 
“I have a daughter.” 
That’s what he was worried about? Oh. 
“Oh wow, that’s amazing, Joel. Why would you think I wouldn’t want to see you after you told me this?” You’re the one reassuring him now, gently grabbing his face in your hands before swiping your thumbs over the stubble on his jaw. 
“You’d be surprised how many women have run for the hills after I’ve told them that.” A sad chuckle bubbles from his throat, and you lean forward to kiss his nose. 
“Not this one, cowboy.” 
-
Joel didn’t tell you a single thing about where he was taking you. All he told you was to dress comfortably for the hot weather and wear some walking shoes, so you opted for a tank top and jeans with rips at the knees and your comfiest shoes. 
You heard a knock on the front door of your apartment, and you eagerly checked the peephole before opening up the door. You grinned at Joel, but stopped short when you saw him wearing a Stetson. 
Fuck, he looked so good.
“Howdy.” He greets in true cowboy fashion, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your throat. 
“Howdy there, cowboy.” You flick the brim of his hat teasingly before grabbing your purse, locking up as you both head down to his truck. 
“So you’re still not gonna tell me where we’re heading to?” You ask once you’re both buckled in, and the truck roars to life. 
“You’ll see in a few minutes. Jus’ wanted to surprise you a little for our first… of hopefully many… dates.” He mumbles the last part under his breath, but your heart rate accelerates knowing he wanted to continue to see you. 
Soft tunes play within the confines of the cab of the truck and you look out of your window. It was all flatlands for a few miles, and then you both hit a bit of traffic, but you could easily see the huge ferris wheel from where you were at. 
You gasped as you sat straight in your seat, eyes shooting to Joel. “You’re taking me to the state fair?” You couldn’t contain your excitement. You absolutely loved the nostalgia the fair brought you, and you hadn’t been in a few years. 
“Mhm.” He says, tugging at his shirt collar with his index finger nervously. 
You grin and lean over the center console, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 
“Thank you. I’m so excited.” 
Joel smiles at your words and reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze. 
“I’m glad. I was hopin’ you’d be into this idea. I know it’s not a traditional first date in any sense, but I gotta keep ya on your toes.” Joel winks at you, and you toss your head back with a laugh. 
“Miller, you’ve done that since the first words we spoke to each other at Rosemary’s. I know we’ve only known each other a short time, but I really do like you and it’s nice to be in the company of someone who actually puts thought into things like this. It means a lot.” 
“‘M glad you feel that way, darlin’. It means a great deal that you think so highly of me.” His tone is playful, but his words are sincere. 
“Only ‘cus you literally saved me from being trapped in my car. No biggie.” You huff a laugh, and he wraps his right arm around your shoulder to give your body a light shake. 
You both sit in a comfortable silence before making it to the parking lot. Once you find a parking spot, you  practically drag Joel to the ticket booth to purchase admission into the fair. He couldn’t help but laugh and admire your eagerness. 
“Okay,” He starts, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Where to first?” 
“I’m actually pretty hungry. Wanna start off with food?” You ask him, and he nods immediately. You link your hand with his, and he lets you keep your fingers interlocked, so you lead him toward the so-called food court of the fair. 
The array of smells coming from every which way had you practically salivating. You ended up getting some wings and fries with a side of fried pickles, while Joel got a turkey leg and blooming onion. 
You make your way to a table and settle in, diving into your food. You push your plate of fried pickles toward Joel, and he happily plucks a couple off the plate and pops them into his mouth. 
“I swear there’s nothing on this Earth like fair food.” He hums, shaking his head as he chews on another fried pickle. 
“Agreed,” You say, eating a couple of fried pickles yourself before you speak up again. “So, tell me about Sarah, if you’d like.” 
Joel’s eyes avert to yours at the mention of her name, and the biggest smile overtakes his features. His eyes crinkle in pure happiness and he’s elated that you want to hear about his baby girl. 
“She’s so charismatic. Most sure fourteen year old you’d ever meet,” He starts with a grin as he begins to gather all the intel about his daughter so he can tell you exactly what she’s like. “She’s so smart, n’ I’m not jus’ sayin’ that ‘cus I’m her dad, but she really does carry such intelligence. She’s witty, funny, sarcastic, and just so damn bright. She easily captivates a crowd in a room with her wit n’ charm, which she obviously gets from me.” Joel boasts with a proud look on his face before shooting you a wink. 
You can’t help but giggle at the way he jokes, but you deeply admire the way he talks about her. You can tell she’s his whole world and more, and seeing a father love his daughter as much as he does warms your heart immensely. 
Joel was starting to show his heart on his sleeve. It was like uncovering invisible ink inch by inch. 
“She sounds absolutely wonderful. I’m sure she keeps you on your toes.” 
“She absolutely does.” He can’t help the pride that blooms in his chest. Raising her as a single parent wasn’t easy, but he made do. He thought he did a pretty good job. 
“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to Sarah’s mom?” Joel gave you a sad smile, and maybe that wasn’t territory you should’ve crossed, you think. 
“She left shortly after Sarah was born. Didn’t wanna deal with bein’ a parent so young n’ all. I might’ve raised her all by myself, but her n’ I grew up together. She’s taught me endless love and so much patience.” 
“Oh Joel, I’m sorry–” He shakes his head, stopping you mid-sentence. 
“It’s okay, darlin’. Sarah n’ I navigate life together. That’s just how it is. We’re so used to it that having her mother in the picture would honestly be very weird.” He plucks another fried pickle from your plate, popping it into his mouth with a sly grin. You can’t help but return the smile. 
“Well, thank you for sharing that with me. I’m sure it probably wasn’t easy.” 
Joel shrugs, “It got easier to talk about overtime. Sarah n’ I are great.” 
“Does she know you’re on a date right now?” You’re curious. You don’t want to be the person that suddenly barges into their lives and disrupts their routine or anything. Sarah sounds so sweet, and the last thing you wanted was to intervene between the two. 
“She does, actually. She’s been hecklin’ me to go out n’ date again. She’s on the varsity soccer team at school n’ since she spends so much time with her team, she didn’t want me to be lonely. She was excited when I told her I was goin’ on a date today.” 
“She just wants you to be happy,” You say, and he nods. “Don’t blame her. I’d want the same for you, too.” 
“I am happy. You make me happy. Don’t know what it is about you that’s got me feelin’ so crazy inside. Feels like I’m a teenage boy again.” Joel laughs, and your eyes widen, because that’s exactly how you feel. 
“Joel, that’s—”
You heard your name being called from a short distance away, and your head swiveled around to lock eyes with none other than your sister. 
“Shit.” You say under your breath, and Joel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 
“What’s the matter?” He asks, but before you could answer, your sister and her fiancé stroll up to the table. 
“Hey sis! Didn’t know you’d be here today.” She has a shit-eating grin on her face, like she just caught you doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. 
“Didn’t know you’d be here either.” You give her a tight-lipped smile, eyes shifting to the man standing beside her. 
“Hi Josh.” You greet him with a small wave, and the sympathy in his eyes is enough of a forewarning that you were going to be in for it from your sister. 
“So who’s this?” Your sister gestures to Joel, and you glare at her briefly. You felt heat creep up your body, feeling a little ticked off. You wanted to keep Joel a mystery just a little longer. 
“This is Joel. Joel, this is my sister and her fiancé Josh.” You introduce them three, and while you’re feeling nothing short of embarrassed, Joel has a big smile on his face as he extends his hand to shake both of theirs. 
“Nice to meet y’all.” He says, and your sister beams. 
“Ah, so you’re the mystery firefighter my sister always gushes about,” She laughs, and you groan and hide your face behind your hands. “Thank you for getting her out of that horrible car accident, by the way.” Her voice was coated with sincerity and gratefulness. 
“‘S no problem, really. I’d rescue her any day.” He looks at you as you peek an eye through your fingers, and he shoots you a wink. 
Your sister ‘aww’s at Joel’s words. 
The heat in your face never wavers and you hide your face again, shaking your head in pure embarrassment. 
“So when’s the wedding?” Joel asks politely, making conversation so awkwardness doesn’t roll over the four of you. 
Your sister can’t help but gleam when she answers him, “August tenth! You should come. It would be so much fun.” 
Your hands evade your face, and you look up at your sister with furrowed brows and a panicked stare. What the hell was she doing? 
Joel looked at you for a second with a small smile, and you wanted so badly to shrink into yourself and let the world swallow you whole. 
“Love to, only if this one would like me to go.” He nudges your foot under the table playfully, and an awkward chuckle escapes you. 
“You’d be subjected to my family if you went, Joel. I’m not sure you’d wanna deal with… all that.” 
Your sister laughs at your words, “She does have a fair point. Our brothers and cousins are quite the rowdy bunch.” 
“I like a challenge.” Joel smirks, eyes locking with yours. 
“I like him even more now.” Your sister laughs, nudging you on your shoulder. 
You shoo her hand away, rolling your eyes. “Okay, okay. It’s up to you, Joel, but I’m giving you a huge warning in advance.” 
He grins at you and grabs your hand from across the table, gently swiping his thumb over your soft skin. 
“Well, It was nice to meet you, Joel. Josh and I are gonna head out and grab a funnel cake.” Your sisters bids you both goodbye, and you and Joel both say your goodbyes before they walk off. 
“God, Joel, I am so sorry. I hope you don’t feel pressured into going to her wedding or anything. I know it’s like a month away and–”
Joel stops you with a kiss to the back of your hand. “Not at all, darlin’. But if you rather I not go, then I won’t. ‘S up to you.” 
“It’s not that–it’s just–,” You sigh, trying to find the right wording. “I’ve been single for so long. My last relationship didn’t end well, and my family is overprotective of me because they don’t wanna see me get hurt again. They can be… a bit much, sometimes.” 
You look at him, and he gives your hand a squeeze. 
“I mean, that’s understandable. Nobody likes seein’ members of their family gettin’ hurt, especially in a relationship. ‘M sorry your last one ended badly, but baby, if you let me, I’d love to give you everythin’ I can. I know this datin’ thing is scary, because hell, it took me so long to say yes to someone’s advances, but I really do like you and I would love to see where this goes.” 
You’re elated by Joel’s words. He was just so damn sweet and you genuinely felt like you didn’t deserve any of this. Dating is a scary thing, and the thought of giving yourself to someone again, letting them in to get to know all of you, terrified you. 
But, your sister's words ring in your head, once again. The world won’t end if you give up an ounce of control. 
“I’m glad you said yes to my advances.” You say, and Joel lifts your hands to his lips once again, giving it several kisses. 
“‘M happy I did, too.” 
-
“So which game do you want to play?” Joel asks, looking back at you as you try to fall into step with him. It was a couple of hours later, the sunset starting to creep in. 
“The water gun game. Love that one.” You grin, and he leads the way to the last two empty seats on the side. Joel hands the man running the game four tickets as you both settle in your seats, and you flash Joel a smirk. 
“Get ready to get your ass handed to you, cowboy.” Your shoulders shake with laughter as he gives you a look. He didn’t expect a competitive side to come out of you, but he liked it. A lot. 
“‘M ready, baby. Don’t hold back now.” He laughs as you both take hold of the metal machines, hovering your thumbs over the red buttons on the top. The bell goes off to start, and you zero in on getting the water into the tiny target. You don’t even think you blink until the bell goes off, signifying that someone won. 
You look up at the poles, and although Joel beat you, neither of you won. Some guy at the other end won and picked out a prize for his girlfriend and gave her a big kiss after she got a big plushie. 
You smile at the scene before you, and Joel notices you looking at them. He was determined to win something for you, because he wanted you to remember this day. 
He leads you over to a ball throwing game where he has to knock down bottles on three tiers of shelves. Nobody else was at the stand, so he got the opportunity to show off and impress you. 
You couldn’t help the way your eyes moved to the rippling biceps beneath the hem of his shirt, trailing them up to his tan neck, to the slightly graying stubble on his jaw, to his plush lips and strong angular nose, and his pretty eyes. His soft brown curls were barely peeking out from under his Stetson, and all you wanted to do was take his hat off and run your fingers through his hair. 
He’s a fucking dreamboat, and you really couldn’t believe that you were able to pull someone like him. 
“This one’s for you, baby.” He turns to wink at you, catching you staring at him. Heat shoots up to your face and you give him a shy smile, watching as he easily knocks down five bottles. Even the game attendant was impressed, and Joel pulled you into his side so you could pick out whichever stuffed animal you wanted. 
You chose a big teddy bear that was squishy, giving Joel a kiss on the cheek and thanking him for winning it for you. 
“So how many teddy bears have you won for previous women? You made that look too easy.” You joke, nudging his side as you both walk away from the game. 
“Mm, around thirty. I’m a regular here.” Joel deadpans. Your mouth drops open in mock offense, and the most guttural laugh erupts from his chest. 
“Jus’ you, baby. Tommy n’ I used to play catch a lot.” He reassures you, and you quirk your brow at him. 
“Better be, Miller, or there’ll be hell to pay.” You poke his chest with no malice behind your actions. 
“I bet there will be, darlin’.” He catches your hand and spins you around so your back is flush against his front, and he kisses your neck. He’s moving ahead of you before you even have time to process what just happened, but excitement zinged through your body at his gesture. 
You walk for about five minutes before you spot a photo booth not even twenty feet away. You stop him in his tracks and look at him with the best pleading eyes you can muster up. 
“Would you hate me if I asked you to take pictures with me?” You nod your head toward the photo booth, and Joel looks taken aback. 
“Hate you? I could never. I’d love to take pictures with you.” 
You guess you didn’t realize your wording before you said it. You were so used to your ex hating things you wanted to do, including taking photos to capture memories. He always made you feel bad about it, so you stopped doing it so much after you broke up. You just didn’t realize that the shitty feeling was still buried somewhere inside you. 
Joel tugs you along to the photo booth, sliding in first. The bench was extremely small, and it was nearly impossible to fit both of you side-by-side. 
“Jus’ sit on my lap.” Joel suggests, spreading his legs and patting his thigh. You swallow harshly and nod, sitting on his lap.
 You both get situated and put the two dollars in the machine before pressing the start button. Joel grabs on to your hips, and you nearly melt into a fucking puddle at his touch. 
It’d been so long since anyone has simply touched you, so your whole body was buzzing with nerves and excitement. 
You both smile for the first photo. You didn’t know what to do next, so you threw up a peace sign, Joel following your lead. For the third photo, you grabbed Joel’s face and gently squished him between your forefinger and thumb, sticking your tongue out.
You look at the screen and realize Joel was staring at you, so you turn your head to look at him. His smile is soft and his eyes are hooded, glancing down at your lips. 
You pluck his Stetson off of his head, covering half of your faces as Joel leans in and closes the gap, kissing you gently. Your body melts into his as you bring your other hand up to his curls, running your fingers through them to cradle the back of his head. His arms tighten around you, and he deepens the kiss, turning his head to the side. 
The last sound of the shutter goes off, but neither of you pull away. The arm holding his hat moves to rest on his shoulder as your lips move in tandem. You don’t know how long you were there just kissing. It was gentle and sweet, but there was a ferocious hunger that was brewing beneath the surface. You both felt it. 
You had to pull away before you lost all control, so you regrettably separated yourself from him. He rubbed his nose against yours, breathing a little ragged, before he leaned back to look at you. 
He cups your face and swipes his thumb over your cheekbone, giving you one last peck as reality trickles back down around you both once more. You put his hat back on his head before standing up from his lap, an unavoidable neediness coursing through your body. 
You grabbed both of the photo strips that were printed, smiling at them when you saw what they looked like. You never thought you’d admit to yourself ever again that you looked good with someone else by your side, but you couldn’t deny the sparkle in your eyes that you saw in the photos—all because of Joel. 
It scared you, truthfully. The thought of relying on someone else for happiness or reassurance just didn’t sit well with you quite yet, but what was the point of it all if you weren’t willing to let yourself just try? 
An hour passed before beautiful hues of orange, purple and pink took over as dusk settled on the horizon of the sky. You and Joel decided to split a funnel cake, but not without getting powdered sugar all over yourselves. 
“You got a little…” Joel trails off as he reaches his thumb out to the corner of your mouth, swiping off some stray powdered sugar before popping his thumb into his mouth. You lick your lips and watch him carefully, the ache of arousal only getting worse. 
“Wanna go on the ferris wheel?” You ask, desperate to distract yourself from your undying want for this man. 
“Love to.” 
You both dust off any powdered sugar left behind on your shirts, walking hand-in-hand to the ferris wheel. Joel gave the ride attendant the last six tickets he had, and you both climbed on. 
You were silent for most of the ride, admiring all the twinkling lights and patrons below. You glance at Joel who was already looking at you once again, and you can’t help the smile from forming. 
“Thank you so much for today. I had a lot of fun.” 
“‘Course, darlin’. ‘M glad I got to do this with you.��� 
“Me too. I have some pretty great souvenirs, too.” You clutch onto your teddy bear, and he shakes his head with a laugh. 
The ferris wheel came to a stop, and you realized you were both at the top as you looked down at the fairgrounds below. 
“Would it be super fuckin’ cheesy and cliché if I asked you to kiss me right now?” Joel asks, scooting closer to you. 
“It would,” You start, leaning in to him. “But I don’t care. Be as cheesy and cliché as you’d like.” 
He grins before tipping your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, pressing his lips to yours once more. This time was a bit different. Joel kissed you with more force, neediness coursing through his body just as much as yours. 
He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, and you immediately parted your lips for him. You couldn’t help the moan that bubbled in your throat as you moved closer to him, gripping onto his bicep. 
It was so easy to get lost in him. It was easy to talk with him, to laugh with him, to be with him. So, so fucking easy. 
You’d never felt this way about anyone before. It was wild to think about, because you just met him not even a month ago, but you could see yourself being so unapologetically happy with him. 
It might’ve been insane to think about that so early on, but your gut was telling you that you finally chose right. 
You were so wrapped up in each other and the heated kiss you were exchanging that you didn’t even realize the ferris wheel started moving again, and you eventually reached the bottom. The ride attendant awkwardly cleared their throat with a tight-lipped smile, and you immediately pulled away from Joel. 
You were mortified as you uttered ‘sorry’ at least five times before getting off the ride with Joel. 
Joel couldn’t help but laugh that you two had been caught, but he couldn’t care less. He felt so himself and so carefree around you. 
“Should we head back to yours?” He asks, a hint of desperation in his tone. You couldn’t even find the right words because your brain was absolute mush, so you just nod your head in agreement. 
The ride home didn’t take long, but as soon as you walked through your apartment door with him and set your prize and purse down, he was on you. He gently pushed you up against the door, hands wrapping around you as one moved down to your lower back. 
He separated his lips from yours for a second, nibbling on your chin. “Is it okay if I touch you?” He asks, voice filled with hope. 
God, please, yes. Touch me everywhere, you think. 
“Yes.” You whisper, and his lips are on yours once again. His tongue invaded your mouth, this kiss even hungrier than it was on the ferris wheel. One of his hands moved down to your ass, and you moaned into his mouth at the touch, fisting the back of his shirt into your hand in desperation. 
He moved you away from the door and walked backward toward your couch, plopping down on it. He immediately yanks your hips down so you’re straddling him, and you gently take the Stetson off of his head before setting it to the side. You crash your lips to his once again, both of your hands cupping his cheeks as you press yourself into his crotch unintentionally. 
Joel groans at the sensation, cock stirring in his jeans as you both continue to invade each other’s mouths, all teeth and tongue. His hands move down to your ass, giving it a squeeze as he guides you to rock your hips against his. 
You don’t even shy away anymore. You want this—you want him. But you had to pace yourself, not wanting to bite off more than you can chew. You ground your hips into his, clit catching perfectly onto the seam of your jeans as you felt his bulge straining against the denim he was wearing. 
“Fuck, Joel.” You whine, biting your bottom lip as you separate your lips from his. 
“I know, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?” He’s breathless as he moves you a little faster, and you nod your head feverishly. 
“Yeah–yes–fuck, it does. So good.” Your arousal was coating your panties, slick and warm as your cunt ached to be touched. 
Slow. Slow, you had to remind yourself.  
You’d just have to take care of yourself after he left tonight. 
“Fuck–darlin’ I think we should–wait.” Joel tries to find the words as they barely register in his head. 
You slow your hips down, panting against him and you nod. 
“I know. We should take it slow.” You say, and he licks his lips with a nod. 
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, as much as I’d love to–I jus’– I haven’t been with anyone in a real long time, and I don’t wanna fuck this up. I wanna do this right.” 
“I know, Joel. I’m with you. I wanna take this slow, too. I like you a lot and I wanna do this right with you as well.” 
Your eyes bored into his brown ones, sparkling with hope and happiness. He kissed your cheek a few times before nosing at your jaw, hands moving up to settle on your hips again. 
He pulled back and looked at you with that same soft smile on his handsome face—a sight you knew you’d never tire of. 
You’d quickly come to a revelation as you stared at him, chest heaving up and down as you desperately tried to catch your breath: you were falling—and this time, you didn’t want to get back up. 
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tags: @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @pamasaur ; @clawdee ; @pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @buckyispunk ; @untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @typewriter83 ; @lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11
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divider by @saradika-graphics
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thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year
Text
How to Lie to a Behavior Analyst
Feb. Requests-4
In which Spencer and Y/N are dating and it’s great but the only problem is… she’s Rossi’s daughter
Warnings: semi-smutty scenes, dirty talkin… fluff, lying, horny!Spencer, spence being reckless and reader being scared 💀
Spencer Reid x fem!rossi!reader
All parts of this are up on my pinned masterlist!
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“Ohmygod, Spencer!” Y/N giggled as she inspected his face. She sat on his lap, touching his skin where she had noticed a bruise.
“I know…” He groaned.
Y/N eyes flickered up to his. “And you didn’t think to tell me that the guy beat your ass before you knocked him out?” She said, talking about the unsub from the last case Spencer was on.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Okay baby, first of all, he did not beat my ass. He punched me once before I hit him with a crowbar. And second, can we stop talking about creepy psychopaths so I can fuck you?” He asked watching her face turn red.
Y/N kissed his lips and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His hands found her hips naturally and he kissed her back, rubbing his thumbs over the hip bones. Now, this process would have moved a lot slower had she still had pants on but the moment Spencer got to her apartment he took them off of her. Now she was just left in a pair of her underwear and a loose t-shirt.
She moaned as one hand slid from her hip and between her legs, rubbing softly. She pulled away from his lips and hid her face in his shoulder, breathing heavily.
His lips found her neck as he kept rubbing, chuckling at how wet she was and he had just started touching her. “You miss me while I was gone, baby?” He asked into her skin.
She nodded, a whine leaving her lips. “I missed you and those hands of yours.”
Spencer smirked and helped her sit back up so he could look at her face. “What about my di-“
His words were cut off by the sound of one of their phones ringing. He groaned and held onto her ass, not wanting to stop trying to make her feel good. Y/N kissed his lips and crawled off of him, smiling at the fact that his hand stayed on her ass as long as it could before she was out of reach.
She looked on her bedside table and groaned when she realized that her father was calling her. “It’s mine.”
Y/N cleared her throat and picked it up. “Hey, dad!” She smiled, glancing back at Spencer who pressed his lips together and widened his eyes.
“Good morning, Y/N/N my beautiful.” He spoke. He sounded extra cheery this morning.
Spencer climbed up next to her and placed his hand on her thigh. She glared at him with her eyes but smiled with her lips. “What’s up, dad?”
Somehow, Spencer ended up laying between her legs pressing soft kisses on the insides of her thighs. Y/N dropped her mouth open wanting to moan so badly.
“I’m having a dinner on Saturday night and I want you to be there.” Rossi said. “Uncle Hotch wants to see you. So does the rest of the team.”
Spencer looked up at her, smirking and nodding as he continued to tease her. She grabbed his hair and pulled it harshly trying to get him to stop with a smile on her face.
He did not stop. In fact, his lips turned into his tongue, licking and biting the insides of her thighs. His hands grabbed the outsides, squeezing roughly.
“Y-yeah! I would love to come.” She replied, her mouth falling open when his lips got closer.
Closer… closer… closer—
“Sweetie?”
Y/N snapped out of her thoughts. “Sorry, dad. Got a little uh… distracted. What did you say?”
Rossi chuckled on the other end. “Uh I know you’ve got this… crush on Reid but…”
“Sorry— what? You’re breaking up.” Y/N furrowed her brows.
“I said I don’t want you to have a crush on—“
“Whoa— sorry dad. I can’t hear you. I have something in the oven that’s gonna burn— gotta go. Bye, love you!”
She hung up the phone, tossed it somewhere and shut her eyes. Spencer propped himself up on his elbows and smiled at her. “You have a crush on me?”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”
Spencer chuckled and swiftly flipped them over so she was hovering over his face. “By sitting on my face?” He quirked an eyebrow. “I’m okay with that.”
.•.•.•.•.•.•.
It was Thursday morning and Y/N though she would stop by her dad’s office and bring everyone donuts.
She walked through with the box and smiled at the people who greeted her. She walked into the bullpen, Derek spotting her first.
“Hey, Rossi Junior!” He called out. “Good to see you, girl.” He smiled as he hugged her. “Even better to see you with food.” He kissed her cheek as the other started walking over to them. Derek took the box from her and set it down on one of the desks.
Rossi and Hotch walked up side by side and Spencer behind them with JJ and Garcia. “Hi, sweetie.”
“Hi, daddy.” She smiled as he kissed both of her cheeks.
Hotch gave her a hug and greeted her swiftly. Garcia squealed as she hugged Y/N and rocked her back and forth. “Ugh! I haven’t seen this beautiful baby face in so long!” She said squeezing the woman.
“Pen— can’t… breathe.” Penelope apologized and let her go, pinching her cheek and going to see what kind of donuts she brought.
JJ and Emily hugged her next and then it got to Spencer. She glanced at his sexy face before nodding at him, knowing that he doesn’t really like physical contact.
It was crazy because she was sitting on his face not too long ago.
“So what brings you by, Y/N/N?” Derek asked, chewing on a glazed donut.
Y/N walked over leaning against a desk next to her dad who wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Oh, I was just on my way to work and I realized how much I missed you all so I brought you donuts and myself.” She smiled, motioning to both things.
She could swear she felt Spencer’s eyes on her. They usually were.
“Aw that’s sweet.” Emily smiled.
Y/N nodded. “I should really get going now.” She kicked off of the desk. “But I’m gonna go use the bathroom first.” She added.
Rossi rubbed her arm. “We’ll be in the round table room briefing so we’ll see you Saturday.”
Y/N smiled, kissing her father’s cheek. “See you all Saturday.”
They all said their goodbyes and she walked towards the bathroom.
When she got in there she smiled and waited by the door. A few moments later there were three knocks and she opened the door, quickly pulling her boyfriend in.
Desperate lips met hers and she reached behind him to lock the door as she kissed him. “I missed you.” She said in between kisses.
Spencer chuckled. “You saw me yesterday.” He smiled as her kisses grew deeper.
She hummed. “I wanna see you all day, every day.” She spoke, pulling away from him with a small pout on her lips. “How’d you get away from them?” She asked.
“I told them my mom called.” He whispered, pecking her lips. He gasped in shock when she hit his shoulder.
“Don’t use your mom to lie, Spencer that’s not nice!” She shook her head.
Spencer tilted his head to the side. “Would you rather me have told them that I was coming to make out with you or…” Y/N rolled her eyes.
“Whatever, get back out there. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She giggled, pushing him away gently.
Spencer shook his head. “No, you’ll see me tonight.”
She gave him a sweet smile. “Yours or mine?”
The man caressed her cheek gently. “Mine. I’m gonna cook you dinner with all of the fun kitchen gadgets you made me buy.”
Y/N scoffed. “Spence, you didn’t even have a can opener!” She patted his chest and laughed.
He chuckled and kissed her once, twice, three times before she pushed him away. “Go before they get suspicious.” She whispered.
Spencer reluctantly pulled away and unlocked the bathroom door, slipping out discreetly and leaving Y/N to stand there with a warm smile on her face.
.•.•.•.•.•.
It was Saturday night and Spencer watched Y/N try on four different dresses from his spot in his bed.
They would leave from the same place but take different cars so it wasn’t suspicious. Spencer would take the longer way there and Y/N wold take the short cut.
“I don’t know, I think I like the blue one.” She said, turning so she could see the back in the mirror. She had on a blue satin dress that had a little bow on the back.
Spencer bit his lip. “Yeah… I definitely like the blue one too.” He said, looking at where the neckline swooped down.
“Stop looking at my boobs and come zip me up, please.” He rolled his eye with a smile and slid off the bed, walking up behind her and slowly lifting the zipper, stopping right before it was at the end.
“Are you sure I can’t unzip you?” He asked. “We’ve got thirty minutes and with the way you look, I only need five.” He dipped his head down, kissing her neck.
Y/N’s shoulders raised and she hummed. “You can take the dress off me when we get back here after dinner.” She said, planting her hand in his hair. “I can’t get all messed up. The they’ll know we’re together.”
Spencer groaned and wrapped an arm around the front of her, swiping his thumb across her red lips. “I can’t wait to see this pretty little makeup all smudged.” He said lowly into her ear. Her mouth dropped open and her chest heaved.
She wrapped her lips around his thumb and shut her eyes, her tongue swirling around it. He groaned. “I honestly don’t think I could ever get it up for anyone else.”
Y/N smirked and popped his thumb out of her mouth. “Change your tie. It’s the same color as my dress. We’re gonna look like we’re going to freakin’ prom together.”
Spencer rolled his eyes and stalked over to his closet.
.•.•.•.•.•.
Spencer arrived at Rossi’s 20 minutes after Y/N. She was chatting with Garcia and JJ over a glass of wine. She looked so pretty laughing and smiling.
“Hey, kid!” Rossi greeted, snapping him out of his trance. He smiled at the man. “There’s wine in the dining room, dinner will be done soon.”
“Great.” He smiled.
He was about to make his way to the dining room but Garcia called his name. “Boy Wonder! Over here!”
He stopped and sighed before turning to them with a smile. Y/N smiled at him, crossing her arms and sipping her wine.
“Soooooo, what are you doing for your birthday this year?” The blonde asked, grinning.
Hopefully getting my dick sucked. “Uh…” He shrugged. “I think I’m just gonna take my mom out to dinner and go buy some more books.” He nodded.
Derek came up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Uh, no.” He shook his head. “You can do the mom thing just no books, you nerd.” He spoke. “I’m taking you to a strip club.”
Y/N’s breath hitched and she slid her tongue across her teeth. Spencer glanced at Garcia before looking at his girlfriend. Hotch and Rossi joined their circle.
“Uh… I’m okay, actually. I’d rather just stay home.” He nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets.
Derek scoffed. “Why? You got a girl or something?” Spencer tired and successfully avoided glancing at Y/N and shook his head shrugging.
“No, I just… don’t really wanna go see a bunch of naked girls.” I only wanna see one naked girl.
Emily snorted. “What planet are you from? What man doesn’t want to see a bunch of naked girls dancing around, swinging their hoo-has in your face?”
“Swinging?” Y/N grimaced. “What strip clubs have you been to?” She laughed.
Emily scoffed. “The good kind.”
Garcia shook her head. “Okay— anyway, I think Reid has a girlfriend, who’s with me?” She raised her hand.
Everyone including Y/N raised their hands. She pressed her tongue to the bottom of her mouth to keep from laughing.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Guys I don’t have a girlfriend.” He said, pulling his hand out of his pocket.
“Why is your thumb red?” JJ asked, nodding at his hand.
Y/N pressed her lips together and looked at the ground.
Spencer opened his mouth but shut it again. “I was making Kool-Aid earlier and that stuff stains like a bitch.”
Y/N sighed and shook her head slightly. Literally everyone on this room knows I live off of Kool-Aid. Literally had a Kool-Aid man themed birthday part, I am so obsessed.
She looked back up to meet her father’s stare. Y/N/N, Can you help me with the Carbonara?” He asked, nodding his head to the kitchen.
She swallowed and nodded, putting a smile on her face. She glanced at Spencer before following her father into the kitchen.
“Ooh, It smells good, dad.” She hummed, hoping that he wouldn’t try and talk to her about what all the awkwardness with Spencer was about.
“I remember when you were a little girl and you first learned how to make it with me.” He smiled, leaning against the counter on his palms.
Her phone buzzed in her bag and she took it out quickly.
Dick Dealer💘
How to lie to a behavior analyst: Don’t maintain excessive eye contact, keep your voice even, say my name if you refer to me, don’t fidget— I love you
She inhaled deeply and slid her phone back in her bag, setting it on the counter. “I love cooking with you, dad.” She smiled.
Rossi nodded towards his spice organizer and she walked over grabbing the black pepper and garlic powder.
“Can you be honest with me for a moment, sweetie?” He asked as she sprinkled the seasonings in. She glanced at him.
“Yeah, always.” She shrugged, smiling.
He walked around the kitchen island and sighed. “Are you… involved with Spencer Reid?”
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him, her lips quirking up. “What? No, of course not.”
Rossi nodded. “I just… I just noticed some weird stuff back in there. The way you got… jealous when Derek mentioned taking Spencer to a— his birthday plans.” He grimaced.
Y/N laughed a little, trying to keep her voice even. She looked at her dad, making eye contact with him. “Well, like you said you did figure out that I have a crush on Spencer. I was just jealous about that.” She shrugged.
Rossi nodded. “A-and I’ve noticed how weird it is that you seemingly ignore him when we’re all together. What’s up with that?”
Y/N scoffed. “God, dad. Do I need a lawyer or something? Why are you grilling me?”
The father sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just a little protective.”
His daughter smiled and looked back down at the pot she was stirring. “No, it’s okay. I get it but there’s nothing going on between Spencer and I.”
He smiled and kissed her head. “I’ve got it from here if you wanna go back out with your friends.”
Y/N bit her lip. “I think I’ll stay here with you. We need to catch up. How’s Crystal?”
.•.•.•.•.•.
At dinner, Spencer sat across the way from his girlfriend. He was sitting beside Rossi so there was no way he could see the looks that he was giving Y/N.
He was mostly giving her worried looks because she wasn’t making eye contact with him at all.
Once dinner was done, she stuck around to help clean up. Spencer bit his lip as he left the Rossi household, glancing at Y/N through the window before getting in his car and driving home where he would meet Y/N.
.•.•.•.
“Fuck!” Y/N panted and rolled off of him. Spencer gripped her hips even as she collapsed on the bed beside him, squeezing his eyes shut.
She shut her eyes and bit her lip, scooting forward to wrap her legs around his waist and laying her head on his chest. “M’sleepy, Spence.” She mumbled.
“So what did you and your dad talk about?” He asked, rubbing her skin.
Y/N popped her eyes back open. “Are you really asking me about my dad not even thirty seconds after I rode your dick?” She grimaced.
Spencer chuckled. “M’sorry, baby.” He kissed her head. “I just— you got all weird during dinner. You weren’t even looking at me.”
Y/N sighed. “He just asked me if I was ‘involved’ with you. I denied it, of course but I’m still not sure that he fully believes me.” She shrugged. “Did he say something to you?”
Spencer shook her head. “Nope.”
Y/N bit her lip. “Good.” She pressed her forehead into Spencer’s chest again and kissed it. “I’m going to sleep unless you wanna go again?” She smirked.
“You horn dog. Go to sleep.” He chuckled. “I love you.”
Y/N hummed and giggled sleepily. “I love you.”
An hour later Spencer was still awake, running his fingertips across the bare skin of Y/N’s back gently as she slept. His phone buzzed on the bedside table and he sighed, pausing his movements and reached over to grab it.
Rossi
I know she thinks you two are hiding it well. I’ll let you get away with it for now. You hurt my daughter, I shoot you in the face.
Spencer’s eyes widened and he almost groaned loudly had Y/N not been asleep on his chest.
He gulped and put his phone down deciding that he wouldn’t tell Y/N that her dad knew about them until it was a problem.
Which even when it was, he would still do everything to make sure she never got hurt.
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
I ABSOLUTELY LOVED WRITING THIS OMGGG
AND I LOVE YOU READER (WHO ASKED NOT TO BE TAGGED) If it’s not how you’d hoped, I will happily rewrite it:)
Spence and Y/N really we’re just horny this entire time💀 also Derek is an asshole 😭
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norman-fucking-reedus · 2 months
Text
Okaay we’ve talked about Daryl with his daughter but lets talk about your pregnancy for a second..
I can imagine Daryl coming back late in the night, so tired and sore from a long day of work. You had only found out a few hours prior, and seeing the physical ache in his body you knew he could use some hopefully very good news.
“Hi there hunterman” You whispered, sliding his crossbow off his shoulders as he kicked his muddy boots off.
Daryl dropped his head down onto your shoulder, sighing heavily. “Hi”
A moment a silence passed, you simply combing your fingers through Daryl’s hair before gently guiding him to raise his head, eyes meeting yours.
“I have something to tell you” Daryl raised a brow, hands settling st your waist. “Not dyin’ are ya?” You giggled, shaking your head
Reaching for your back pocket, you pulled the test out and handed it to him, watching as he took it between his fingers with a confused gaze, which quickly turned into excitement.
“No way”
“Yes way. We’re gonna have a little Dixon”
Daryl wrapped his arms tightly around you, smile resting on his face until it slowly disappear, a set of tears following suit. He sniffled softly, and you raised your hands up to wipe his falling tears. “It’s okay, big guy.”
“Wha’ if m’not a good dad?” He whispered, and you rolled your eyes at him. “I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you’d be a perfect dad” You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately as his arm circled your waist, a hand sliding up your shirt and caressing the skin.
When you start to go through hormone changes and start forming a bump, Daryl becomes super protective of you. Much so to the point that it annoys you but he doesn’t care, he’ll literally die before someone lays a finger on his woman.
He strictly forbids you from leaving the walls, telling everyone on watch duty to not let you out no matter how much you yell, which in fact, yelled at them a lot. He also refused to let you carry anything that looked just a hair too heavy.
“Nope. Nah. Give ‘ere girl.”
“I can carry it, Dixon”
“I’on care, give it ta me”
He’ll forcibly take the item out your hand, because simply how dare you have to even lift a finger with that baby inside you.
I also honestly feel like Daryl would be really scared to have sex during your pregnancy. Now if its pleasure that you want, Daryl has no probably eating you out till your eyes are rolling and his jaw is cramping.
“I dun’ wanna hurt tha baby”
“Hurt them how?”
“..With m’dick??”
I think about the scene from Big Mouth when Jay fucks his pillow and screams “My dick is right next to the baby’s head” That’s all i’m gonna say about that
Daryl makes sure to give you half of his food, and you don’t have a choice but to take it. (Unless the baby says otherwise) He purposely hunts extra food for that you can have more to eat, especially the further you get along.
By the time you’re about seven months and very undoubtedly pregnant, Daryl would murder anyone in cold blood if they even looked at you wrong.
Although you were crabby and yelled a lot, he was at your complete beck and call. Daryl could only loving stare at you when you complained over something, thinking about how gorgeous you were and how lucky he was that you were the mother of his child.
“Nothing fits right anymore! My shoes don’t even fit”
“Ya don’ need yer shoes if ya never leave”
“I never leave ‘cause you keep me locked here like a fucking prisoner”
“M’keepin my pretty girls safe”
Lots of his clothes have been sacrificed considering you’re literally busting out of yours, and something predatory washes over him seeing your belly prutrude through his shirts.
Birth is definitely hard and Daryl definitely passed out once or twice, but being the man he is he forced himself to pull through for you, and the scars from your nails dragging down his flesh will be a fond memory followed by the sweet sound of loud crying.
You know how much Daryl loves kids, and you’re exhausted from all the pushing, so it only makes sense that he gets first hold. You watch with a small smile as Siddiq guides Daryl to take his shirt off, watching the burly man nervously but eagerly (and carefully) take his newborn into his large hands.
In that moment, cradling his very own precious babygirl, it felt like you were the only three people on earth. Daryl couldn’t take his eyes off the wiggling bundle of life in his arms, rocking slowly in the chair as he burned the image of her tiny little face into his mind.
As you stared at him, you couldn’t help but think about how you really did pick the perfect dad. Daryl Dixon, a hard, strong, intimidating man fear by many, who was now sitting softly, gently and quietly with his daughter laying ontop his bare chest, a large hand keeping her secured. Already a major daddys girl.
The baby stage is easily Daryl’s favorite, and he definitely gets up in the middle of the night when she starts crying or fussing.
I don’t think he’d put her down for a second, like you just won’t see Daryl without her hooked around his arm. He doesn’t bring her into the garage during bike repairs until shes older, not wanting to let his babg inhale toxic bike fumes.
Dog is her protector. Most dogs understand what babies are and how vulnerable to the world they are, so Daryl definitely trains Dog to stay by her side when he can’t be. Instead of sleeping on the couch Dog now sleeps right outside her crib.
On the one occasion when a group a raiders had started searching houses, yours having been one of the first, one of the men made the mistake of opening her door, Dog jumping swiftly into protective mode and clamping his canines into the mans leg. (Also ending the groups raid)
When it comes to breastfeeding, I can imagine the extra lengths Daryl would go. He makes sure you have enough food and nutrients to produce, and totally massages your boobs when you complain about the soreness.
When she’s big enough to start wearing clothes rather than onesies, Daryl definitely finds lots of super cute girly stuff for her because well only the best for his girls. He spoils her totally rotten.
Maybe not completely, but y’know. Her first words end up being an adorably butchered version of Daryl’s name, one that makes him wanna cry and scream cause his daughters first words were his own name.
“Baryl!”
“Ohh good jobs mommas baby! That’s daddys name!”
“She- said- she said- she just- she”
“It’s okay, Baryl we all heard it”
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★
© norman-fucking-reedus 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, or adpated to any other platform. You may translate my works with my asked and given consent.
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mrpenguinpants · 1 year
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Green Slumber
— "Ah, look! Is Alhaitham taking a nap?" "Shh...You're too loud, Paimon." "Th-That's not true…Paimon was definitely whispering-wait, who is that beside him?"
— Alhaitham
Ayato Ver: Pale Blue Slumber Traveller & Paimon lines are taken from the official Genshin Twitter post. [Masterlist]
Congrats Alhaitham, your birthday postpones the fic where I tear you apart for scamming me. I usually don't write birthday fics but pretty art. Can you tell I'm not used to writing second pov and rushed again :)) I don't know how to end fics.
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"Ah, look! Is Alhaitham taking a nap?"
Lumine looks in the direction of Paimon's voice, her floating companion peeking through a room with a giddy face. No doubt hatching some sort of plan to get back at the scribe for his words during their quest to rescue Lesser Lord Kusanali. On one hand, she should probably scold Paimon for immediately jumping to payback since the reason both of them are here is to wish the man a happy birthday before departing to the next region. But on the other hand...
“Shh…You’re too loud Paimon,” Lumine whispers as she tip-toes towards the door and gently pushes it open further. She's pointedly ignoring the face Paimon is throwing her for acting just as bad as she is. If anyone asks, she'll make an excuse that she was just being a polite guest and if Alhaitham was sleeping, she would excuse herself quietly. In no way is it her curiosity to see the ever-serious Alhaitham in any mode that's defenseless and relaxed. So with Paimon’s head hovering above hers, they both poke their heads into the room. Alhaitham doesn’t look any different from the last time they met, although asleep, he looks far less intimidating. He’s leaned back in the wooden chair, arm propped up to hold his lolling head in place. Calculating amber and teal eyes are closed as his chest falls up and down slowly with each breath while the gentle sun paints him in warm yellows and soothing whites. If Lumine had never met Alhaitham before, she would have thought he may have been the Dendro archon with how serene the scene itself is. Something that almost makes her want to reach out and touch him just to check if he’s real or not.
"Th-That's not true…Paimon was definitely whispering-wait, who is that beside him?" Paimon’s voice tapers off at the end, eyes alight with confusion. Lumine tears her eyes away from Alhaitham to look at where Paimon is pointing. Seated on the desk right in front of Alhaitham’s sleeping figure, a stranger hums softly with their ankles locked as they swing their legs ideally in the air. In their hands appears to be the beige book Alhaitham usually carries around, the one about physics and motion if she remembers correctly. Now that she’s looking - she can't believe she missed an entire person because she got distracted by the image of a sleeping Alhaitham - the stranger looks far more comfortable in the room than she is. Maybe they're another roommate? Although Alhaitham doesn't seem like the type to have an extensive list of friends and she's positive she's met most if not all of the people Alhaitham could call close enough to have them in his home. She shares a look with Paimon who returns it with a shrug of the shoulders. Neither one of them has ever seen this mysterious person before.
"Haitham, this section here about..." the stranger's voice brings blue and yellow eyes back to the room. Lumine watches intrigued as the stranger finally looks up from the book to see Alhaitham fast asleep. A soft sigh escapes their lips as they close the book, shoulders dropping into something more relaxed, and they just sit and look at the man. They have the same look in their eye but instead, their hand slowly reaches out until their fingertips meet the tips of soft silver hair. Pushing strands away from his face before waltzing down to caress his cheek. It's an intimate touch and Lumine isn't sure whether she should be here interrupting the moment. The stranger surely seems to be having fun as they return to playing with silver strands. Through it all, Alhaitham remains asleep yet, his body seems to lean into the touch naturally. As if these practiced movements have happened before.
Oh. Oh, she understands now.
“Hey, Paimon…” Lumine starts as she slowly picks herself off the floor as quietly as possible lest she disturbs the peace. "We should leave."
"Huh? But why? We've never seen this person before right? What if they're one of those bad guys that are after Alhaitham because he's the acting grand sage!" Paimon adamantly nods, small hands clutched into little fists. It would be cute if it weren't for the fact that Paimon has no sense of volume. Before Lumine can reach out and press her palm against Paimon's mouth to stop her from shouting again, a light chuckle rings out. They both freeze in place, flicking their heads back inside the room.
"You know...if you talk any louder you will actually wake him up," the stranger drops their hand as they turn to face the duo. There's mirth dancing in their eyes and Lumine has enough decency to look embarrassed at getting caught red-handed. Paimon on the other hand has no such reservations.
"Ah, sorry! We didn't mean to! Wait-Hey! Don't turn this on Paimon. Who are you and what are you doing in Alhaitham's house?!" Paimon stomps her feet in the air, crossing her arms as she pouts at the stranger. Her frown further increased by the stranger laughing harder.
"I basically live here. There's no need to be so on edge. I doubt Haitham could sleep so easily if a stranger was in his home," they say, gesturing to the still peacefully unaware scribe who hasn't moved a muscle since they arrived.
"Ohh, so you're like that blond guy from before! Ka-Ka something? But wait, why were you touc-"
"Ahem, sorry for barging in. We just wanted to say Happy Birthday to Alhaitham. We'll visit again some other time when he's awake," Lumine cuts Paimon off, successfully managing to slap her hand against Paimon's mouth. She can feel the back of her ears turning red as she bows and practically sprints away and out of the house. She'll just write a note to the scribe instead.
+
You blink a few times before chuckling again. Wow, that girl sure can run fast. You've heard stories about the Traveller and this "Paimon" character, patiently waiting for your turn to stumble into their journey. Although you wish you had met them with better first impressions, they seem like a lively bunch. Your eyes slide over back onto the sleeping figure in front of you, and there's a slight nudge of his lips. The smallest of smiles threaten to burst before it placates into something more neutral. A small detail that hasn't escaped you.
"I know you're awake Alhaitham," you state blankly, your gentle hands reaching back up before suddenly turning harsh and tugging at his cheek. Pulling the skin so he has a lopsided smile. True to your words, teal and amber eyes open without an ounce of shame. "Weren't those your friends? Don't be rude and ignore them when they came all this way to say happy birthday."
He offers a half-hearted shrug before the hand supporting his head moves to take your fingers still tugging at his cheek. Intertwining them together until his face is free. His smile is still small but his eyes shine with fondness that you're forced to look away. Sometimes you forget just how pretty Alhaitham can be.
"Weren't you the one that said I should indulge on my special day? Is it so wrong that I want to spend it with you and you alone?" He adds to his point by brushing his lips against your fingertips before pressing a kiss to your palm. There's a small smile as he extends his other hand out, eyes taking in how pink your ears become. "So let's indulge."
“For such a pretty face, you sure are…” you trail off but you take his hand and let him move you onto his lap. It's unfair how fast he can turn the tables on you and how easily you let him do so. It was fun being able to poke and prod the man to your heart's content since he had to hold the disguise of being asleep, even if you do feel a bit bad that the Traveller had to postpone their greeting, but now it's his hands that roam over your body. Slipping under your - his - shirt and rubbing small circles into your hip before growing bored and moving onto another patch of untouched skin until there's nothing left to take. Lip hungry as he kisses away your words because every breath that isn't mixed with his is worthless. Perhaps it's a blessing that you need to take a proper breath because you're sure that Alhaitham would keep taking until there's nothing left. Disregarding how tightly your hands cling to him and refuse to let him stray too far away.
"Greedy."
"Pot meet kettle."
---
[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.
@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars @ieathairs @crypticbibliophile @cumbermovels @totallynotaraidensimp
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stevie-petey · 1 month
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episode eight: the gate
“Drop me and die.” Your knuckles are white as they clutch the rope, your body shaking with exhaustion as you try to ease your way down without further injuring your ribs.  Steve laughs and tightens his grip on your waist, steadying you as you finally inch the rest of the way down and land with a gentle thud onto the ground. “Like I’d ever dream of letting you go.” This time, you know it’s his words that cause you to shiver, not the exhaustion and pain.
Summary: you encourage nancy to take your place (everyone is shocked), you and steve are the newest babysitters in town, billy ruins things as always, tunnels are weird when youre concussed, you remind jonathan of an old promise, and when the snowball comes you make your own promise with steve that you know you can keep.
Rating: general, although very violent
Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, intense violence and blood, weapons, monsters, probably more im forgetting
Words: 20.1k (no one speak to me)
Before you swing in: this is it ,,, the final episode of season two <3 this chapter was both the easiest and hardest one ive ever written. there are scenes in here that i put so much into, and im so proud of where everything landed. handling so many relationships and dynamics was so incredibly difficult, but i adore where they ended up. i hope you guys do, too :)
-
“Eleven,”
“Mike.”
The two kids embrace, Mike holding desperately onto El as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again any second, and she’s holding onto him just as tightly as their tears mix together. 
You watch them with a hand over your heart, your own tears spilling over. You can’t believe this is real, that El is standing in Mike’s arms alive and real.
The way they cling to each other brings more tears to your eyes. It’s obvious to everyone how much they love one another. You think about the endless batches of brownies you baked for Mike, how many nights you spent in his basement standing watch, looking for any sign of grief, in case he needed you there to remind him that it’s okay to cry. 
“Is that…?” Max asks Lucas, and he nods. 
“She’s back.” You exhale, feeling Dustin’s fingers slip between yours. He knows how much you missed El, he’s spent just as many nights keeping watch over you, reminding you to cry as well. 
Mike pulls away, his eyes shining with tears. “I never gave up on you. I called you every night. Every night for–”
“353 days.” El finishes for him, you’ve never heard so much emotion in her voice. “I heard.”
You think about the nights you found Mike huddled underneath the fort he once built for El in his basement, clutching the radio to his chest, passed out from exhaustion. You never mentioned it to the boy, knowing he’d simply deny and tell you it was nothing, but hearing El confirm what you already knew still hurts. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you were there?” 
You look around the room now, wondering the same as Mike, and then your eyes land on Hopper. While everyone looks surprised or confused at El’s reappearance, Hopper’s face is one of resignation. 
Everything clicks. 
He knew.
Hopper sees that you’ve pieced it together and steps forward. “Because I wouldn’t let her.”
You step forward as well so that you’re next to Mike, knowing that this will only upset him more. “You knew.”
“What the hell is this?” The chief ignores you, now speaking only to El. “Where’ve you been?”
“Where have you been?” El’s eyes darken, but she immediately melts when Hopper pulls her into a hug. By watching their body language, you can tell that they love each other dearly, and distantly you remember hearing about the daughter Hopper once had. 
Though you’re angry he hid El from you, you’re thankful they found one another in the end. You’ve never seen Hopper so tender with someone, and El seems to feel safe within his embrace, far from the skittish girl you found in the woods last year. 
“You’ve been hiding her!” Lost in your thoughts, you momentarily forget about Mike, who launches himself at Hopper and punches the man’s chest. “You’ve been hiding her this whole time!”
Hopper flinches away. “Hey–”
“Mike,” you grab his shoulders, knowing his anger will only do more harm than good, but he struggles against you as he tries to continue hitting the man. “We can all talk about this–”
“Let’s talk,” Hopper grabs at Mike’s shirt, finally forcing the kid to stop. Then, looking directly at you, he adds. “Alone.”
You look at Mike, silently asking him what he needs from you. You know the two of them need to settle their differences, that he feels Hopper’s betrayal the deepest and you trust him to make his own choices. However, with one headshake from him, you would prevent Mike from being alone with Hopper in a heartbeat. 
Mike knows this, he doesn’t have to even have to ask what you mean when you gently nod your chin at him. Taking a deep breath, the boy sighs and nods at you, indicating that he’ll talk with the cop. 
You let go of Mike and gently push him towards Hopper. “He’s all yours, but try not to kill him, please? I unfortunately like the kid.”
Hopper doesn’t play into your words and promptly grabs the back of Mike’s hoodie and marches him towards Will’s room. The door closes behind them, leaving you to deal with El.
Her nose is bleeding and she looks upset having Mike taken from her, there’s an exhaustion behind her eyes that you’re all too familiar with. You wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into you. “C’mere, sweetheart.”
El leans into the kiss you press upon her cheek and closes her eyes, relishing in the tenderness after the night she’s had. “Missed you.”
“And I missed you.” You place another kiss on her head. “The hairstyle suits you, by the way.”
This seems to lighten the girl up a bit, who giggles and quietly thanks you as she wraps her arms fully around you now, securing you into a hug. You allow her all the time she needs to collect herself. 
When you hear Mike’s heartbroken screams at Hopper, calling him a liar, you squeeze your arms tighter around El. “They’ll be fine,” you promise her, feeling the need to reassure her of this, though hearing Mike’s screams breaks your heart.
You understand why Hopper hid El, it wasn’t safe for anyone to know about her being alive, but Mike spent the entire year grieving for her. He lost a year of his childhood mourning the loss of a close friend, of someone he loves, and it isn’t fair to expect him to accept this. 
El nods at your reassurance before you’re suddenly shoved away from her. 
“You’re hogging the former dead girl, Y/N!” Dustin exclaims as he engulfs El into a hug. 
Lucas flashes you an apologetic smile before hugging the girl as well, focusing his attention on her. “We missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She responds, squeezing both boys tight. 
“We talked about you pretty much every day.” Dustin pulls away before pointing at you. “Y/N usually just cried.”
You elbow your brother, causing him to wince. “You say that like I don’t normally cry over things.”
Dustin opens his mouth to argue, but suddenly El’s fingers are pinching at his lips as she pries his jaw open. Your brother looks at you in alarm, and you’re too stunned to do anything besides watch in bewilderment. 
“Teeth.” El finally says,
You giggle, while Dustin simply stares at her as if she’s insane. “What?”
“You have teeth.”
Dustin breaks into a smile. “Oh, you like these pearls?”
When he makes an obscure purring sound with his mouth, you scoff at your brother and roll your eyes alongside Lucas. “Please, never do that ever again.”
“Eleven?” Max now approaches with a warm smile on her face, the most open you’ve ever seen the girl, and extends her hand for El to shake. “Hey, um. I’m Max. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
El looks at you and tilts her head, which you assume means she’s unsure what to do, so you step in. “Max is a friend, sweetheart.”
She eyes Max’s hand, looks up at her again, before bypassing the girl completely and going straight into Joyce’s arms.
You frown, confused by El’s unusual dismissiveness, and look over at Max. Her head is ducked down, embarrassed, and you make a mental note to remind yourself later to ask El what happened. Max is a good girl, they deserve to be friends and you know they’d get along if given the chance.
Joyce cradles El’s head and greets her with tears, and the girl responds the same. After they’ve hugged, El pulls away, her tears now ones of worry. “Can I see him?”
Joyce’s eyes flash to you, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing: it’s no coincidence that El arrived when she did. You think about what Dustin and the kids deciphered in morse code, Will’s hidden message. 
Close the gate. 
El is the only person you know can do it. 
“Go take her to him,” you tell Joyce. “I’ll catch everyone else up.”
The woman nods, her eyes appreciative, before gently guiding El towards Will’s room. 
“I’m assuming I’m ‘everyone’.” Steve says as soon as Joyce and El have left. 
You laugh, finally rejoining his side. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Alright, catch me up then. Who was the girl and why does she have a bloody nose problem?”
“Her name is Eleven, or El. Besides the Demogorgon, and Demodogs, did we ever discuss El?”
Nancy speaks up from the corner, timid. “I, uh… Didn’t tell Steve a lot. We kinda just, we–we didn’t ever really–”
“I never let Nancy explain, and I was too afraid to ask.” Steve kindly saves Nancy, and something both you and Jonathan take note of. 
“Well,” you clap your hands, dispelling away any remaining tension for both your sake and the kids’ sakes. “El has these powers, she can make things move with her mind, and when she uses them she gets nose bleeds.”
Steve stares at you. “Okay…”
“Mhm. It’s just as insane as it sounds. Remember the whole Upside Down story Dustin and I told you about yesterday? Well, she can travel there and has a connection to it. With her mind. Somehow. I don’t actually know the logistics of it.”
“You’re doing great, bug.” Jonathan’s voice drips with sarcasm, but Dustin hits his chest to shut him up. 
“Thanks, Dustin. Anyways, El has these insane powers and she’s the sweetest, softest person I’ve ever met. We…” your voice trails off now, still getting used to the fact that she’s alive. “We thought we lost her last year, when she killed the Demogorgon and helped bring Will back.”
“But she’s alive.” Steve concludes. 
You nod, a natural smile spreading across your face. “She is.”
“If you say she’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met, then I definitely believe you.”
Steve’s words make you blush, the pure and honest way he says them, and both Dustin and Jonathan cringe. The two boys share a look, both for once on the same page in a long time, and make gagging motions. 
You see this and flick both of their heads. “I know where you both sleep.”
Both boys stick their tongue out at you, and for a moment everything feels normal. Jonathan and Dustin are teasing you, Jonathan’s eyes are lit up, and your brother is carefree again. 
Then Joyce returns to the living room with El and the mood becomes somber again. 
They stand over the kitchen table, El stares down at the piece of paper with the “close gate” on it, and Joyce asks the question you’ve all been wondering. “You opened this gate before, right?”
“Yes,” the girl responds as you and everyone else now join her and Joyce. 
“Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?”
El looks between you and Joyce, her gaze stony and resigned. You wonder what else she’s gone through to put such a void within her; like all the other kids, she no longer has a sweet naivety to her.
Then, slowly, El nods. 
– 
“It’s not like it was before. It’s grown. A lot.” Everyone stands in the kitchen, circling around Hopper as he explains exactly what the gate now is. “I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”
You grab Dustin’s shirt and yank harshly at it. “Don’t you dare–”
“Demodogs.”
Hopper looks at him, sighing. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Please just ignore him.” You plead with the officer, knowing he’s already in a bitchy mood. 
Dustin doesn’t pick up on the anger, though. “I said, uh… Demodogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, rubbing at your temples. You’ve heard this explanation of the word play a million times within the last twenty-four hours. If you have to hear Dustin explain what Demodog means one more time, you think you may murder the kid.
Dustin, unfortunately, continues. “You put them together… it sounds pretty badass–”
“How is this important right now?” Hopper snaps at the boy, which only makes you more annoyed. 
You put your hand up at the old man, closing your fingers together to mimic a mouth being shut. “One more aggressive comment to the thirteen year old and I will show you that Nancy isn’t the only one who can shoot a gun.”
“Uh, Y/N…” Jonathan nervously mumbles, unsure what Hopper’s reaction may be. 
However, the chief simply raises an eyebrow at you, stares you down for a few seconds, before finally seeming to decide that he’s impressed with your bold comment. “I’ll make sure to remember that.”
“I can do it.” El suddenly voices from the other end of the table.
“You’re not hearing me.” Hopper’s shoulders slump. You can tell by his now defeated stance that he has yet to win an argument against El, something that you’re incredibly proud of her for. 
“I’m hearing you. I can do it.”
“Even if El can, there’s still another problem.” Mike speaks up, looking around the table to ensure everyone is listening. “If the brain dies, the body dies.”
Max frowns. “I thought that was the whole point.”
“It is, but if we’re really right about this…”
“Will,” you breathe out quietly with dread, understanding where Mike is going with this.
Mike continues explaining. “I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army–”
“Will’s a part of that army.” Lucas finishes as he looks over at you, now knowing why you’ve just exhaled the boy’s name with grief. 
“Closing the gate will kill him.” 
Jonathan tenses at Mike’s words, and you place your hand against the back of his neck in a grounding manner. You can feel his rapid heartbeat against your hand, even from this position, and you play with his hair to try and soothe him. 
He’s terrified of what may happen to his little brother, once again struck with pure terror that he could lose him. You’re not sure how many more times Jonathan can grieve his brother without losing a piece of himself.
Steve, standing on your other side, sees the way your fingers intertwine in Jonathan’s hair. The same way they did earlier with his own hair as you hugged him.
He frowns, looking away. 
Everyone else falls silent as well, Mike’s words hang in the air. Your gaze shifts to Joyce, who has a deep frown on her face, and before you ask her what she’s thinking, she stands up from the table. “Follow me.”
No one says anything as you all follow the woman to Jonathan’s room, where Will lays motionless on top of the bed you’ve slept in for years. His body is stiff, the hospital gown swallows him, and the sight disturbs you. 
You walk over to the boy and kneel next to the bed. It’s in your nature to take care of Will, you do this without even thinking about it. Stroking his forehead, you place a kiss against it as you watch his mom in the doorway.
“He likes it cold.” Joyce mumbles, eying the open window in the room. 
“What?” Asks Hopper, standing behind the woman. 
Joyce looks over at her son now. “It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” Then, as her voice grows stronger, she walks over to the window and slams it shut. “We keep giving it what it wants.”
Nancy and Jonathan walk over to you now, the girl remains standing while Jonathan kneels down next to you. The two of you take turns caressing Will’s forehead as Nancy starts to speak. “If this thing is a virus, and Will’s the host, then…”
“Then we need to make the host uninhabitable.” 
You turn to Jonathan, not at all liking what he’s saying. “What does that even mean? He’s a kid, how do you make a child’s body uninhabitable?”
“He likes it cold.” Nancy says, as if that explains everything. 
“But–”
Joyce clenches her jaw and spits out, “We need to burn it out of him.”
Everything about what Joyce has said makes your stomach twist. You look down at Will’s body, at how small he still is despite a year of trying to get him to recover, and his pale skin is almost translucent in the bedroom’s lighting. 
You hate everything about what’s happening, but you hate the way Will looks lifeless even more. 
If making his body uninhabitable can save him, then you have to try; you’ll simply be there to pick up the pieces when it’s done, as you always are. 
The kids begin planning now.
“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time.” Mike says. 
“Yeah, somewhere far away.” Dustin adds on. 
“Last I checked, none of us have a hidden hut in the woods.” You say, at a loss for where else to possibly take Will. Then, Hopper clears his throat and shifts his weight. “Oh, no fucking way. You would have a hidden hut in the woods.”
“It’s a cabin.” Hopper corrects with annoyance, though there’s a slight glint in his eye as he looks at you. “Joyce and Jonathan will take Will there.”
“Well, go show them the cabin, then.”
Jonathan grabs your hand. “You’re not coming with?”
As if there’s a string tugging at the back of your head, you turn around and catch Steve’s eye. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes alert yet sad, and you know with everything within you that you can’t leave him behind. 
Not when he was shaking in your arms only twenty minutes prior. 
Steve doesn’t want to be alone, especially not when you’d be leaving him behind with Nancy after it’s become clear that she’s with Jonathan now. 
Now, as Jonathan’s open and expecting eyes stare into yours, you do something you’ve never done before. Something you’ve needed to do ever since you were twelve and grabbed the boy’s hand on the Wheeler’s porch that fateful night.
You let go of Jonathan. 
“I can’t,” you tell him, the words of denial feeling foreign on your tongue. You’ve never told him no before, never left him behind, but saying the words isn’t as difficult as you once feared. “I’ll stay with the kids, I’m better with them anyways.”
Jonathan watches you, his eyes trace over your face again and again as if drinking it in for the very last time. When he seems to find what he’s looking for, he takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, okay.”
His understanding of everything you don’t say almost makes you take it all back, but you don’t. Instead, you squeeze his hand and nod towards Nancy. “Why don’t you take Nance?”
Something shifts when you say this, you know Jonathan feels it as well. There’s an ease within the shift, almost akin to a soft exhale in December’s cold. It parts you with a gentle farewell, strokes your cheek as it departs, and you can faintly see its outline as it floats away. 
A thread, one that has tugged within your chest in a painful ache since last year, finally loosens. 
Nancy looks at you, her eyes wide. “Me?”
“Mhm,” you nod at the girl, a kind smile on your face. 
It’s a monumental shift, you’re willingly encouraging Nancy to be next to Jonathan’s side rather than you. It’s an exchange of powers, trusting her to take care of the boy you love so dearly. 
For once, it doesn’t feel like you’re tearing off a piece of yourself. Instead, you’re simply sharing the weight of it, of this trust, rather than losing it.
“I… I think I’ll stay here.” Nancy finally says, looking away in shame.
You don’t blame her, you know she carries a weight of guilt within her for things she couldn’t control. There’s a lot you want to say to her, a lot you have to say to her, but for now you simply nod at her, understanding. “Then I’m happy you’re here.”
And you mean it.
Steve, still quietly standing in the doorway, sees everything. He felt the shift, too.
– 
“You should go with him.” Steve picks up a spare heater, he and Nancy have been sent outside to retrieve whatever they could find from the Byers’ yard. 
The shift weighs heavily upon him. Your words ring in his ears. 
Nancy spares Steve a glance. “What?”
“With Jonathan.” He bends down to dig through some old Christmas lights, and seeing them reminds him of you. Everything reminds him of you. “Y/N’s right. You should go with him.”
“No, I–” Nancy scoffs, uncomfortable. “I’m not just gonna leave Mike.”
Steve thinks about you, about how you’re always the one who stays. “No one’s leaving anyone.” He walks over to Nancy and helps her with a radiator she’s struggling with. “I may be a shitty boyfriend, but… I realized I’m actually a pretty damn good friend and babysitter.”
Though he never says your name, Nancy can feel it hang over the two of them. The unspoken confession that it’s because of you that Steve now accepts what has happened between them. It strikes her then, how different he is now. How differently you and the girl came to know Steve.
Nancy stares at him, her eyes are filled with more remorse than he’s ever seen from the girl. It hurts, seeing her so upset, and he wishes that things could’ve been different. He recognizes now that they didn’t stand a chance, though he’s happy they tried anyways. It was always going to end like this between them.
Steve doesn’t hold any anger towards her, he doesn’t hate her, because he still loves her. 
How could you possibly fault the person you love for finding their own love?
“Steve…” His name comes through as an apology.
“It’s okay, Nance.” Steve means it, he gives her the same blessing that you did. She’s allowed to be happy, you both want her to be happy, and you have each other to lean on now. “Y/N and I will be okay.”
He leaves Nancy standing there.
– 
You’re waiting to say goodbye to El, standing patiently behind Mike as the two of them make promises about coming back. It’s sweet, watching them, until they slowly start to lean in for what you fear is a kiss, so you intervene. 
“Hate to ruin the moment, but I’d like to say goodbye to El, too.”
Mike glares at you. “Couldn’t wait five seconds?”
“A five second kiss is shameful, Wheeler.”
El giggles softly and pulls you into a hug. “I will be careful.”
You kiss her cheek. “Come back this time, okay?”
“I will.” 
Hopper calls the girl over to get in the car so they can leave, and you quickly run over to Jonathan’s car before he can get in. 
When he sees you approaching, he extends his arms out and pulls you in as he always does. No words are needed, he simply holds you so that you’re chest to chest and he can feel every breath you take. “I’ll come home to you.”
You bury your face in his neck, inhale the scent you’ve come to associate with your childhood and warm, sunny days. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” 
The words ease between the two of you, finally warm after months of being cold. 
Nancy then appears, and when you notice her you break away from Jonathan. “I see you’re joining?”
“I am.” She nods. “Seems I have you to thank.”
You smile and grab her hand. Your grip is firm, but sincere. “Don’t make me regret it, okay?”
Your words are teasing, but Nancy senses the undertones of a warning. Jonathan is your best friend, she has always known this, and she knows how much weight has gone into your trust for her. Nancy understands that you’re giving her something precious to you, and she will forever be indebted for it. 
“I won’t.” She promises. “And good luck with Steve and the kids.”
“Oh, I’ll need it.” You laugh, and any remaining tension that has hung over you and Nancy finally disappears. 
Once Jonathan and Nancy get into the car, you stand on the porch with Steve and everyone else as you watch the cars drive away. 
– 
 You poke around the Byers’ kitchen for some food; your stomach has been rumbling for hours and you’re sure the kids are hungry, too. However, like usual, you come up with nothing. As you dig through a cabinet, Dustin walks into the kitchen and starts clearing out the fridge. 
“What are you doing?” You ask, knowing that this can’t be for anything good. 
Dustin doesn’t answer, continuing to carelessly throw racks of food onto the floor.
“Hey, stop!” As you walk over, Steve suddenly comes rushing in, holding a very dead, and very disgusting, Demodog. 
“Is this really necessary?”
“Absolutely not.” 
Dustin groans at you. “C’mon, Y/N! This is absolutely necessary, it’s a groundbreaking scientific discovery.”
“It is a dead creature, from an alternate universe–” 
“We can’t just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It’s not a dog–”
“Oh, so now it’s not a dog after you’ve stated a million times that it’s a Demodog–”
Steve steps in between you and Dustin. “Alright, alright, enough!” He begins to shove the Demodog into the fridge before you can stop him. “But Dustin, you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers, alright?”
“You both are idiots,” you mumble, watching as Steve and Dustin pathetically try to make the giant Demodog fit into the fridge. “I’m leaving.”
You’re seriously starting to regret their friendship. 
However, you know when to pick your battles, and as you watch the two boys try to maneuver the body into the fridge, you know that this is not a cause worth fighting for. 
Instead, you exit the kitchen and instruct the rest of the kids to start cleaning the house. It’s a mess, glass shattered everywhere from the dead Demodog and papers thrown haphazardly around during the morse decoding. 
The mess will only add more unneeded stress to Joyce’s life, so as Lucas and Max groan at you for making them do work, you stand your ground and shove a broom into their hands. 
“You suck, you know.” Lucas grumbles, but Max hits his shoulder and holds the dust pan as he sweeps.
As they get to work on the shattered glass, you figure it’s best that you call your mom before you forget again. You know she’s probably worried sick about you and Dustin for disappearing so suddenly without a word. 
However, when you walk over to the wall where the phone normally is, it’s gone. 
“Hey, uh. Where did the phone go?” You ask Dustin, who has finally left the kitchen. “I need to call mom.”
“Oh, Nancy threw it when it rang. She went kinda berserk.”
You look towards where Dustin is pointing and see the phone, in fact disconnected, on the ground across the room. The sight makes you snort. “Guess she really likes throwing phones, huh?”
Your brother doesn’t understand the joke. “What?”
“Nevermind,” you shake your head. There’s no use explaining to the boy about a quick, five second moment from last year. Nancy had done the exact same thing when Steve had tried to call the cops when the Demogorgon originally attacked you. 
Dustin mumbles something about your blood loss making you delusional, but you ignore him and begin sweeping the hallway. You order him to help, and soon the two of you are cleaning the Byers’ home. 
You’ve just finished sweeping when you notice Mike pacing around the room. He’s anxious, that much is obvious, and whenever he begins to pace: trouble soon follows. He’s brewing up a plan, you can feel it. 
After the fifth time the boy has paced the room, Lucas has finally had enough. “Mike, would you just stop already?”
“You weren’t in there, okay Lucas?” Mike stops pacing. “That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.”
“Demodogs–oomph!” Dustin corrects, only to be cut off by your hand clamping over his mouth. 
“Say it again, I dare you.” You warn him before turning towards Mike. “Look, I know it’s nerve wracking, but all we can do right now is trust El’s abilities and wait.”
Lucas nods. “Yeah, the chief will also take care of her.”
“Like she needs protection.” Max quips from the floor, dustpan still in hand.
You feel a hand place itself on the small of your back. The weight of the palm is starting to become familiar to you, the length of the fingers and the way they splay across the span of your back are slowly becoming recognizable. 
Without turning, you know that Steve has joined you. 
“Listen, dude,” he says in a placating voice to Mike. “A coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. Alright?”
You wince. While you’re impressed that Steve is trying to intervene and reason with Mike, you know immediately that his approach will fail. Trying to reason with the kid using a sport analogy is like trying to explain magic to a mathematician. 
“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game.” Mike rolls his eyes, which you expected. “And second, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”
“RIght! So–so my point… My point is…” Steve stumbles over his words and Mike’s unwavering insistence. When he can’t think of a better response, he lets out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, we’re on the bench, so–uh, there’s nothing we can do.”
You pity Steve, honestly. It takes years of careful analyzing and strategic planning in order to prepare yourself for an argument against Mike Wheeler. 
Patting his shoulder, step in to help. “What I’m sure Steve means is that while we may be benched, that doesn’t mean we can’t keep the homefront secure.”
“That’s not how sports work, Y/N.” Steve whispers obscenely loud, but quickly shuts up when you glare at him.
“Stupid sports analogy aside, there’s nothing we can do besides keep watch here and wait for everyone to return.” Even though you know you’re saying the right thing, that it’s best you follow Hopper’s order of staying put, even you don’t believe the words you’re saying. “We may not be able to help right now, but later, I promise we will be the best damn homefront ever.”
Dustin clears his throat. “That’s not entirely true.”
You turn to him and a sigh escapes you when you see the plan already forming behind his eyes. “I can’t argue with you, can I?”
“Nope.”
“Great, go on then. Share with the class what you’re thinking.”
“I mean, these Demodogs, they have a hive mind.” Dustin begins. “When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”
Lucas thinks about this. “So if we get their attention…”  
“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab.” Max concludes, and you take a second to marvel at how seamlessly she’s integrated herself into the party.
However, you then remember what Lucas said. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘get their attention’? Why do those words scare me so much?”
Mike talks over you. “We can clear a path to the gate.”
You have a multitude of questions and Steve seems to be thinking exactly what you are when he loudly exclaims, “Yeah, and then we all die!”
“That’s one point of view.”
“Dustin, that’s quite literally the only way to look at it.” You flick his hat and he swats your hand away.
Steve points at you, nodding in agreement. “That’s a fact.”
“Thanks, Steve–” Mike’s body slams into yours as he runs past you. “Christ, Wheeler!”
“I got it!” The boy shrieks, running out of the room as he wordlessly instructs everyone to follow. He kneels in front of the fridge and points wildly at one of the pictures Will has drawn. “This is where the chief dug his hole, this is our way into the tunnel.”
“Into? What do you mean into?”
Mike shoves past you again and runs into the living room. “Here, right here.” He stands in the middle, where all the pictures have interlocked together to form a center. “This is like a hub. So, you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire…”
“Fire?” You shriek as Steve quickly follows with, “Oh, yeah that’s a no!”
Dustin, however, is on board with what Mike is planning. “The mind flayer would call away his army.”
“They’d all come to stop us!” Lucas waves his arms madly at you, as if saying this will get you to agree to the plan that’s forming.
You throw your hands up in surrender. “Look, I recognize that we could maybe do something–”
“Hey!” Steve looks astonished that you’re even considering this. 
“I mean, if we can help then I don’t see why we can’t just–”
Mike shakes your arm now, deciding that your hesitation is an agreement. “We then can circle back to the exit! By the time they realize we’re gone–”
“El would be at the gate!” Max now also is looking at you. “C’mon, Y/N. You have to admit that it’s a solid plan.”
You bite your lip. It is. That’s the problem with the Wheelers. They come up with these insanely dangerous and insane plans, yet they’re also always brilliant. You know it’s risky, Hopper could barely even explain the tunnels to you without shaking in fear, but… Who’s to say that the Demodogs won’t simply go after Will and Jonathan at the cabin? Or kill Hopper and El before they even reach the lab.
It’s obvious you can’t just sit here and wait. 
El has to close the gate, that much is certain, and because of this: you have to help her. You have to help everyone, keep them safe. 
“It’s a solid plan,” you finally breathe out, and all the kids start to cheer.
“I knew you were my favorite sister!”
“Dustin, I’m your only sister–”
“Hey! Hey–” Steve pushes himself in between you and the kids, clapping his hands to break up any further conversations. “Hey! This is not happening.”
Mike tries to argue, “But–”
“No, no, no!” Steve places his hands on his hips like a disgruntled father. “No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”
You don’t like the way Steve is speaking to the kids, commanding them as if he’s their parent. “Hey, no. We aren’t doing that.”
“Doing what?” He looks at you, eyes wide as he quickly gathers that he’s upset you. The fight in his voice is gone, replaced with quiet guilt.
“We don’t ever command the kids, not like that, anyways.” You step away from them and pull Steve aside with you to give the two of you some privacy. “Look, I know you promised Nance you’d take care of them, but I also promised Jonathan. We have to help, Steve.”
His face twists with confliction, and the two of you are caught between what Nancy wants and what Jonathan wants. They both want the kids to be safe, but they have different viewpoints of how they expect you and Steve to do so.
Nancy wants to keep her brother out of it, Jonathan wants to save his brother’s life. 
“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, begging you to change your mind. 
The confliction on his face hurts to look at, you hate that you’ve made him feel this way, but you can only shake your head at him. “I’m sorry, but we’re doing this.”
“Yes!” Mike rushes over to you and surprises you with a hug. “This is why I keep you around!”
“Okay, no.” You push the kid away and hold him by the shoulders to ensure he listens to you. “That doesn’t mean I think we should all go down into the tunnels. I’ll go, and Steve will stay here with you guys–”
“What? No! You’re not going down there by yourself, Y/N.” Steve doesn’t understand how you would expect him to ever let you do that. “We’re all on the bench, okay? We’re waiting for the starting team to do their job.”
“This isn’t a stupid sports game.” Mike groans in annoyance before focusing his attention back to you. “And no one in the party gets left behind. If you go, we all go.”
The sincerity in Mike’s voice warms you. He’s defending you, protecting you how you’ve always protected him, and you’ve never been more impressed with his bravery; it’s because of this, his bravery and admiration for you, that you know you have to go into the tunnels alone. 
It would kill you if Mike got hurt, if any of the kids got hurt. 
Steve sees the way your eyes shine at Mike’s words and his stomach twists. He knows he can’t change your mind about going alone, he knows you’d never, ever let anyone get hurt. That you’d lay down your life for these kids and those you love. 
The bloodied cloth wrapped around your rib cage reminds Steve that he’s a part of it all now. You have laid down your life for him.
And he’s never, ever going to let you get hurt because of him again. 
Steve steps forward and gently grabs your arm, he needs you to understand how much your selflessness terrifies him in this moment. “Y/N–”
The revving of an engine cuts him off. 
It’s a familiar sound. You’ve heard this car before. The sound of it has seared itself into your memories. The hair on your arms stands up, and within seconds Max is at the window, looking out in fear. 
“It’s my brother.” Max’s voice is terrified. Not even in the junkyard, when Demodogs had been raining down on you and the kids, had you heard such terror in the girl’s voice. “He can’t know I’m here.”
You’re at her side in a heartbeat, tugging her away from the window. You’ve seen the way Billy acts around Max, you remember the harshness he displayed in the parking lot. The same harshness that left bruises on your waist when he had you pinned against the wall on Halloween. “I won’t let him touch you.”
Your words have a bite to them. Max hears the oath within them, she has never believed anyone when they’ve told her this. “He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.”
“He won’t.” You promise her, trying to control the pure rage you feel because of her brother. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but he’s hurt Max for the last time. 
Steve watches your exchange with Max and feels his hands clench into fists. Anger fizzes through his body. As you console the girl, your eyes meet his and he nods. With one simple head movement, the two of you have silently agreed to do whatever it takes to ensure that Billy never hurts Max ever again. 
“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”
You’re standing behind Steve. 
Billy hasn’t seen you yet. 
“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” Steve’s hand tightens around your arm as he guides you further behind him. He doesn’t like that you’re here with him. He hates the way Billy’s eyes roam over your body without any shame. 
But you insisted on coming outside, and Steve has never been able to tell you no. 
You step out from behind Steve and force your hands to rest by your side in nonchalance. “God, I was hoping you’d be allergic to milk.”
Billy raises his eyebrows when he sees you; you’ve surprised him. “Why, it’s always a pleasure seeing you, sweetheart.”
Steve’s clenched fists only tighten when he hears Billy’s nickname for you. He hates the implications behind it, the way he says it with such sickly sweetness that leaves Steve’s stomach feeling raw. 
He can’t imagine how you feel whenever you hear it, and it only makes Steve hate Billy more. 
“It’s never a pleasure for me.” You cross your arms as Billy now stands in front of you and Steve.
The teen laughs darkly and eyes Steve up and down. “What are you doing here, amigo?”
“I could ask you the same thing… Amigo.” His voice carries an air of indifference, but you know that tomorrow there will be indentations in Steve’s palms from his fingernails. 
“Looking for my stepsister.” Billy lights a cigarette and smirks at you. “A little birdie told me she was here.”
“Huh, that’s weird. I don’t know her.”
Billy smirks at Steve’s words and motions over to you. “Yeah, but this little lady does.”
“Max isn’t here.” You say, forcing your anger down to play along with Steve’s indifference. “Have you checked the quarry? A lot of kids like to hang out there.”
Smoke surrounds you as Billy responds, “Don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Henderson.”
With every dodged question, you’re only angering the teen more. If you and Steve keep this up, you’ll only make everything harder to manage. You try to think of something to distract Billy, but all you know about him is that he’s a sleazy pig with a cigarette addiction. 
Then, it hits you. 
His weird fascination with you. 
If you use it against him, maybe you can get him away from the Byers’ house long enough for Steve and the kids to leave. 
You step closer to Billy, ignoring every part of you that screams in rejection. You’re covered in blood and your hair is probably a mess, but you bat your eyelashes anyways and quirk your head up at Billy with an innocent smile. “I could show you, if you want.”
Just as you hoped, your sudden interest in him catches Billy’s attention. He presses his chest against yours and looks down at you, a pleased smile on his face. “And what would you be showing me, sweetheart?”
“The quarry, silly.” You giggle, trying not to gag at the reek of cigarette smoke. “It’s secluded… No one really goes down there. It’s, well–this is embarrassing.”
You duck your head down and act as if you’re blushing. Billy takes the bait and uses his fingers to lift your head up to look at him again. “Go on, tell me.”
You make a show of biting your lip. “Well, it’s where every teen in Hawkins goes to… Be alone.”
Billy’s eyes darken again, even more interested in what you have to say. He leans down, his lips inches from yours, and you know you have him right where you want him. 
Please, you think. I just want to protect the kids.
His breath fans across your face and he’s about to agree, to have you lead him away and forget all about his bitch of a sister, when Steve roughly pushes him away from you. 
“Max isn’t here, man.” He spits out, his once controlled anger now spilling over the edge. 
You want to scream at him, you almost had Billy. He was seconds away from agreeing, and the stupid idiot pushes him away from you? 
Billy looks between you and Steve and lets out a low chuckle. “Sorry, Harrington. Forgot that she’s yours.”
Steve moves as if to hit him but you quickly grab at his jacket, stopping him. Billy sees this and laughs again. 
“You know, I don’t know… This whole situation, Harrington.” He shrugs, exhales more smoke. “I don’t know. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Oh yeah, why’s that?” 
You’re silent, hand still clutching Steve’s jacket. 
Billy exhales more smoke. “My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you in a stranger’s house, alongside Y/N Henderson, the town’s darling, all bloodied and bruised. And you lie to me about it.”
From an outsider’s perspective, you hate how much Billy makes sense. 
To anyone else, this would look incredibly incriminating against Steve.
Yet, Steve still tries to deny it all. “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?”
“I’m assuming he was.” You voice, looking nervously at Billy as he seems to grow more and more volatile. 
“I don’t know what you don’t understand about what Y/N and I have told you. Max isn’t here.”
Billy leans in close to Steve and points with his cigarette towards the house. “Then who is that?”
You and Steve turn, and your heart drops when you see Max and the boys all quickly duck their heads out of the window.
“Shit,” you breathe out, knowing it’s over.
You really hate those kids sometimes.
“Listen,” Steve tries to make up some excuse, but Billy roughly shoves him to the ground.
“I told you to plant your feet.” Bully sneers as he looms over him. You try to help Steve up, but you’re pushed aside as Billy then stomps on Steve’s ankle with a sickening crunch that makes your own wounded ankle sting.
As he storms towards the house, you quickly help Steve up, He pushes you away. “I’ll be fine, go help the kids!”
“But–”
You can’t just leave Steve while he’s hurt, but every time you try to help him up, he bats your hand away.
“Go!”
From inside the house, you hear the kids start to scream, and you reluctantly leave Steve behind and run inside. When you enter, Billy already has Lucas pinned against the wall as all the kids scream at him to let the boy go. Lucas is hitting at the teen’s chest desperately, but nothing is working. 
“Stay away from her.” Billy spits in the boy’s face, who is paralyzed with fear.
“Lucas!” You all but throw yourself onto Billy’s back as you begin hitting and pulling his hair. Anything you can think of, you try, but it’s no use. With Billy’s size and build, you’re nothing but a fucking bug to him. 
“I said get off of me!” Lucas kneels Billy in the groin, sending you and the teen flying back, but at least he’s let go of Lucas. 
You let go of Billy and place yourself between him and the boy, your breath comes out ragged. You don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing. All your mind can think of right now is protecting the kids, but in the midst of screaming and exhaustion and blood loss, you can���t think of anything. 
Billy tries to get to Lucas again, his teeth bared with fury. “You’re so dead, Sinclair. So dead!” 
In your exhaustion and fear, you call out for the only person you can think of. “Steve!”
He’s at your side in a heartbeat, quickly looking at you to make sure you’re okay, before he flings Billy away from you and Lucas. “No, you are!”
Steve’s punch lands perfectly, with a precision far from his pathetic punches thrown last year against Jonathan. It’s incredibly hot.
Billy begins to laugh in a manic manner that frightens you, but all of his attention is now on Steve, so you use this opportunity to drag Lucas over to the rest of the kids and make sure everyone is okay. 
You trust that Steve has everything else handled, but you make sure to keep an eye on him anyways while you take care of the kids. 
“Are you okay?” You check Lucas over for any injuries, who numbly nods as he’s still in shock, while Billy screams something about always wanting to meet King Steve. 
“Get out.” Despite Steve’s leveled voice, his tone is vicious. 
Billy swings again, but Steve manages to duck just in time before he lands yet another punch to the boy’s face. 
“Yes!” Dustin shouts with glee, but you remember the fight from last year. How Steve had lost miserably against Jonathan. A boy half of Billy’s size. 
While you’re impressed with Steve’s fighting improvement, you’re not sure how longer he’ll be able to keep this up. When more punches land on Billy and all he does is laugh menacingly, you know you don’t have a lot of time left.
You’re fucking terrified. 
The kids are still cheering Steve on when you turn to them, panicked. “You guys need to leave. Now.”
“What? But Steve’s winning!” Dustin says as Steve’s fist connects with Billy’s jaw. 
The sound makes you feel sick. 
You’re pleading now, terror clawing at your throat as you do so; your words slur together. “Leave, sneak out, and–and go through the front door and hide. Get help, okay? Just, go and find someone while Steve and I handle this–”
The sound of glass breaking against Steve’s head alerts you that your time is up. 
Billy hadn't been fighting back before. But now? He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. 
As Steve stumbles back in pain, you try pleading with the kids again. You don’t want them to see any more of this, of what might be about to happen. This isn’t just some fight between two teen boys. You know Billy better than that. 
He’s out for fucking blood. 
“Dustin, take everyone outside now!”
“We can’t just leave you!” Mike shouts and the others all nod. 
You want to cry. “We don’t have time for this, just–”
“Shit!” Dustin knocks against you as he dodges a punch meant for Steve. 
Steve crashes into the Byers’ bookshelf and you’re practically shoving the kids out of the door so that you can go and help, but they refuse to leave you and Steve behind. 
Billy has Steve by his jacket. “No one tells me what to do.”
With a sickening thud, he bashes his head into Steve’s and sends him flying to the ground. 
“Steve!” There’s blood pooling from his head and you’re gripped by fear so intense that you’re afraid you’ll pass out any second. 
Billy is relentless, now standing over Steve as he lands punch after punch. Every time his fists slam against Steve’s face, you feel them land against yours as well. Billy’s screaming like a fucking maniac and none of the kids are listening to you and Steve is getting bloodier by the second.
You’re torn. 
Dustin and the kids are staring at you, eyes wide with fear, and the front door is open; you could take the kids and run, but Steve is lying motionless on the ground.
It’s either him or the kids.
And yet it’s the easiest decision you’ve made all night.
“Get off of him!” You throw yourself onto Billy’s back for the second time tonight. 
You yank at his hair and try to scratch his face, but within seconds Billy throws you over his shoulder. “You demented bitch.”
Your head catches on the edge of a coffee table and you land with a thud on the ground. Almost immediately you feel blood drip from your eyebrow and you groan. Fuck. Definitely another concussion, but when you look over at Steve, he looks worse than you feel, and you force yourself to get up. 
Billy watches as you pathetically try to stand, and he laughs with cruelty. “What, want some more, sweetheart?”
More blood drips down your face and you feel the scratches on your rib cage re-open. Every bone in your body aches, but you pull out your switchblade and extend its knives. Your fingers skim over the engraving on its handle, reminding you to use the weapon with love. 
“This is your last chance.” You clutch at your side, hoping you look more intimidating than you feel. “Leave my family alone.”
Billy sees your knives and laughs at you. “Am I expected to believe that you’d actually hurt me?”
Your grip tightens around your switchblade. No one ever believes that you could be so cruel, so vicious. Billy is looking at you as if you’re some pathetic little girl, as if you haven’t killed Demodogs and Demogorgons. He’s looking at you as if you aren’t the sole reason everyone you know and love is alive.
You were once told to use the switchblade with love, that there was never any room for love when it came to violence. 
Now, as the kids are screaming at you to run and the pool of blood around Steve continues to grow, the onslaught of love that is always within you overtakes the fear. 
“I warned you.” With one quick movement, you swat at Billy and cut deeply into his shoulder.
He lets out an enraged scream and instinctively his fist goes flying. Pain erupts in your left eye and you know that you’ll have the worst time ever trying to explain to your mom later how you got a black eye. 
“Fuck!” You groan, dodging every other punch that Billy throws your way as he starts to approach you. With one eye quickly swelling up and the other blinded by blood, you do your best to stumble away from Billy, but it’s no use. 
Your foot catches on the carpet and almost as quickly as you fall, Billy is right there to wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze. You inhale sharply and panic overtakes you as you claw at his hands, drawing blood from him as well, but his fingers only tighten. 
“Y/N!” Dustin’s vocal chords strain from how loud he screams your name.
Billy seems to get a kick out of hearing your brother plead for your life, and he squeezes even tighter as you flail. “Not so tough now, are you?”
You struggle to free yourself, to do anything, but you can’t. 
For the first time since Will went missing, you truly believe that you’re about to die.
Steve is practically dead on the ground below you, he’s bleeding so much from his head that you’re terrified he’ll never wake up, and the kids are defenseless as they scream with tears in their eyes. 
Your baby brother is about to watch you die. 
Spots begin to form in your vision and it’s getting harder and harder to move your limbs. To make them do as you command. 
You know it’s your brain shutting down from the lack of oxygen. 
I hope Jonathan doesn’t blame himself.
Your world fades to black. 
Billy screams.
And you feel your body drop to the ground.
– 
The first time you wake up, it’s to Dustin huffing as he tugs at your arm. “God, you’re heavier than you look.”
You promptly pass back out. 
The second time, it’s dark outside and you register that you’re cold, but your eyes sting and you’re out again.
You wake up a few more times, always in a daze, and never more for a few seconds at a time, before the feeling that you’re moving wakes you up for good. 
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dark, your left eye barely even opens, and the pounding in your head is blinding in itself. Blinking a few times, you look down and finally notice that Steve is sprawled on your lap. You’re in the backseat of someone’s car. 
Your head is resting against someone’s shoulder. When you try to lift it to see who it is, you feel someone gently guide your head back down. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t move too fast, alright? Don’t want you yacking on us.”
“Dustin?” You immediately regret trying to speak. Your voice comes out hoarse and raw and the pain is so intense that it only makes your head pound more.
“Right here, sis. Try not to speak, you sound like a frog.”
You try to sit up again, forgetting that Steve is sprawled on top of you, and your movements cause him to wake up. When his eyes manage to blink open, he tilts his head at you and mumbles, “Nancy?”
“Wha–” Again your voice cracks and you feel so delirious. Are you Nancy?
Steve attempts to wipe away the blood on his face but Dustin stops him with a gentle chiding. “No, don’t touch it.”
Steve brings a shaky hand up to your face and carefully rests it against your cheek. “You’re… You’re bleeding.”
Dustin puts the hand down. “Hey, buddy. Y/N is bleeding, good job. You’re bleeding, too. It’s okay though, you put up a good fight. I mean, he kicked your ass but you put up a good fight.”
Your brother’s words ring in your ears. He’s saying so much and you’re trying to swallow down the vomit that threatens to spill out. 
“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai.” A voice rings out, one different from Dustin’s. 
Was that Lucas?
“What’s going on?” Steve slurs, trying to process everything happening. He blearily looks back up at you. “Who’s driving?”
“Not me,” you manage to croak out.
A beat of silence passes. 
Then, at the same time, you and Steve realize: Max is the one driving. 
You’re more awake now and you try to say more, but your throat has swollen shut from speaking and it feels like it’s on fire. 
Thankfully, Steve is here to say everything you can’t. “Oh my god!”
“Just relax, she’s driven before.” Dustin reassures, slapping your hand away when you try to reach over to the driver’s side. 
“Yeah, in a parking lot.” Mike says, and you notice he’s also here now. 
“That counts.”
You want to scream at Max to pull over and demand the keys from her, but your bruised throat prevents you while your bleeding rib cage traps you in. While you can’t say anything, all Steve can say is, “Oh my god.”
“They were gonna leave you guys behind–”
“Oh my god.”
“But I promised that you’d be cool, okay?” Again Dustin slaps your hand away and all but shoves his leg over you so that you remain seated. 
Max then presses down on the gas pedal and the car increases its speed, which only makes the entire situation worse. 
Steve, rightfully, freaks out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s going on? Stop the car, slow down!”
You twist in your seat and blindly grab at Steve’s hand, both thanking him for voicing all that you can’t and also to try and prevent the poor boy from passing out again. 
“I told you he’d freak out! At least Y/N shut up!” Mike shouts over at Dustin. 
While you’re flattered that you’re officially cooler than Steve in Mike’s eyes, if you had a functioning throat right now, you’d be letting out some very choice words. 
“Stop the car!” Steve screams again, but the little rainbow bandaids on his cheek take away from his commanding nature. 
You hope that Dustin at least chose some pretty bandaids for your face. 
“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Again, Max doesn’t at all help the situation at hand. 
“Wait, that’s Mount Sinai. Make a left!” Lucas points to where Max needs to go and you wonder why they trusted the girl, who just moved to Hawkins a week ago, to know where to go. 
“What?”
“Make a left!” Lucas screams, and Max quickly yanks the car to the left.
You, Steve, and the kids all scream as she hits what you hope is a mailbox. As the car jerks, you topple onto Steve and let out a painful, weird mix of a croak and shriek as the car continues to turn. Dustin tries to steady himself against you as he screams and Steve fully grabs your waist and uses you to shield himself from danger.
What a hero. 
Then, you almost go flying out of the windshield as Max suddenly stops the car. 
“Hello!” Steve exclaims, gripping you tightly still. 
Dustin giggles. “Whoa!”
“Incredible,” Mike breathes out. 
Meanwhile, you think your heart fell out of your ass about five blocks ago. 
“I told you. Zoomer.” Max smirks with pride. 
“She terrifies me,” you whisper, and Steve nods in agreement. 
The kids begin getting out of the car and seem to have some unspoken plan being set into motion. Dustin pats your shoulder before leaving you behind with Steve as the others go towards the trunk. 
Not knowing what the fuck is happening, you kick Steve so that he falls off of you and onto the grass so that you can follow after your brother. When you get out the car, you march over towards where all the kids are standing and silently demand an explanation. 
Mike notices you first. “What? Cat got your tongue?”
You refrain from shoving his face in the mud and point towards the goggles he’s holding. He sighs and hands it to you while Dustin ties a bandana around your neck and Max grabs a gallon of gasoline. 
Seems like they’re sticking to the plan from earlier, then.
When Steve realizes this, as he is gripping onto the car for dear life, he whines. “Oh, no. Guys.”
Everyone ignores him and he continues to try to stop what’s happening. You hobble over to him, a new wave of nausea and pain washing over you, and lean against him helplessly. There’s no use trying to explain to him that the party won’t listen. For now, you simply relish in his presence and enjoy how he feels against you. 
“We are not going down there right now!” Steve, though gentle to not jostle you around too much, waves his hands in the air as he screams at Max. “I made myself clear. There is no chance we’re going to that hole, alright?”
Similar to last year, Steve begins to spiral in his fear. He wraps his arms around you and places you against the car before he runs over to Dustin and throws that backpack that’s in the kid’s hands. “This is not happening!”
You slowly walk over and grab the thrown backpack, hoping that Dustin can reason with the teen. 
“Steve, you’re upset. I get it, but the bottom line is that a party member requires assistance and it is our duty to provide that assistance.” When you join Dustin’s side, he helps you put the goggles on and brings your bandana up over your mouth. “Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So keep us safe.”
He hands Steve the backpack you retrieved. 
Steve looks between you and your brother. You both look absolutely ridiculous in your get up, and he knows he has no other choice but to agree. His eyes meet yours and he silently asks if you’re sure about this, he will always look to you for the answers. 
You nod, hoping that the small head shift is conveying what you physically cannot say.
I’m here, the kids need us, and I need you with me.
Steve hears it, sighs, and grabs the backpack from your hands. 
“Well, let’s get going.” He motions for you and Dustin to lead the way. 
– 
“I got you,” Steve’s voice is soft as his hands graze your waist. He’s standing below you, already having jumped into the tunnels so that he can help you climb down the rope safely. You’re not sure if it’s his touch, or the way his voice drips with promises to protect you, or the simple fact that you’re bleeding and bruised that makes your body weak. 
“Drop me and die.” Your knuckles are white as they clutch the rope, your body shaking with exhaustion as you try to ease your way down without further injuring your ribs. 
Steve laughs and tightens his grip on your waist, steadying you as you finally inch the rest of the way down and land with a gentle thud onto the ground. “Like I’d ever dream of letting you go.”
This time, you know it’s his words that cause you to shiver, not the exhaustion and pain. 
“Ahem.”
Turning around, you see Dustin glaring at you and Steve while Lucas is stifling laughs. You roll your eyes at them and step away so that you aren’t standing so close to Steve, and he seems to think the same and distances himself as well. 
“Holy shit,” Steve breathes out, now finally examining the tunnels. 
It takes your breath away as well. The tunnels are terrifying, but oddly kind of cool. There’s a dim light within them, almost ghostly, and yet it’s beautiful in a way that you can’t quite describe. Small particles float through the air, and you reach your hand out to feel them against your skin. It tickles, akin to snowflakes, and the reminder makes you yearn for winter again. 
Mike’s flashlight distracts you as he shines it towards a random section of the tunnel. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s this way.”
“You’re pretty sure, or you’re certain?” Dustin asks, doubtful. 
“I’m 100% sure, just follow me and you’ll know.”
As soon as Mike’s declaration of leading leaves his lips, you and Steve share and look and immediately stumble towards the boy. 
Like hell you’re letting him lead. He’s a child, and he’s also incredibly horrible at navigating. Last time you let him guide the way, you ended up finding El in the middle of the woods. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve flashes his light at Mike. “I don’t think so.”
“What?”
“Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” Steve takes the map from Mike’s hands and then looks over at you. “I guide, you take the rear?”
You nod. “Good luck.”
Steve smiles, his sarcastic bravado now gone, before he suddenly clears his throat once more and shouts. “From here on out, I’m leading the way while Y/N makes sure none of you idiots get lost. Come on.”
The kids groan and roll their eyes at him, but they fall into line and do as they’re told. 
Dustin walks in front of you and offers you his hand. He knows the uneven terrain will only increase the chances of your ankle acting up. “How’s the ankle?”
“Hurts,” you rasp, accepting his hand as you hobble along. He hums and helps you navigate, the goggles covering his nose makes him sound nasally. “Did I put up a good fight at least?”
Your throat strains to get all the words out, but Dustin seems to understand what you’ve said and laughs. “Yeah, you did a much better job than Steve–What the hell?”
Dustin stops walking and suddenly looks up. Unsure what he’s seen, you look up as well and gasp. Above you rests a giant flower-bud looking thing, except it’s pulsing in a very concerning and gross way and is the size of a car. When it starts to expand even larger, you realize before your brother does what it’s about to do; you tug at his hand and try to run away, but Dustin doesn’t move.
Then, in one grand blow, the bud explodes and releases what you can only imagine are pollen spores, and they spray all over Dustin. “Shit!” He falls to the ground, screaming and rolling around as if he’s just been shot, and all you can do is stand there and silently wait for him to calm down enough for you to talk to him. “Help! Y/N, help!”
You motion to your throat, but Dustin gags and scrambles to stand up before promptly falling back down again in his haste. 
Steve and the others have now joined and everyone is crowding over your brother with worry. “Dustin? What happened?”
“Pollen.” You croak, and Steve looks even more confused now. 
“It’s in my mouth!” Dustin spits onto the ground and coughs, wheezing every few breaths. “Some of it got on my mouth. Shit!”
Mike points his flashlight at you. “Any more useful insight from Kermit the frog?”
You glare at him, although the nickname is funny and you hate that it’s clever. You clear your throat, cringe at the sting it sends down your body, and respond, “Rose-bud thing. Exploded. He’s fine.”
Everyone tilts their head at you, not at all understanding what you’re trying to say, and you groan. It’s incredibly frustrating that Billy left you unable to say a goddamn thing without immeasurable pain. You honestly would’ve preferred that he stab you or something, because your intelligence and wit are so crucial to who you are as a person. 
Plus the whole Kermit the frog thing kind of sucks, regardless of how funny it will be later. 
“I’m fine.” Dustin gasps out. “As Y/N said, a rose-bud thing sprayed me.”
“You guys serious?” Max shakes her head, at a loss for why she’s even here. 
“Very funny, man.” Steve looks at you and teases, “And Y/N, I expected more from you.”
You give him the finger. “Dustin, not me.”
“Mhm,” he’s starting to walk away again, resuming his leader position through the tunnels, but he sends you a wink. “C’mon, Hendersons.”
The rest of the kids follow after him while you help Dustin up and wipe him off. He’s a mess, and he’s clearly still frightened, but he seems reassured by your presence and begins to calm down. When he’s ready, you and Dustin follow.
The tunnels are long, windy, and incredibly disturbing to be in. You can’t believe that something this intricate and vast has been laying underneath Hawkins for god knows how long. The ground beneath your feet is squishy and it takes both Dustin’s hand and immense concentration to not trip. 
Steve leads, his flashlight serving as a beacon to focus on despite the pounding in your head. The bandana tied over your nose only makes the ringing in your ears worse, but you’ll leave inhaling mysterious Upside Down particles to your brother. 
After a few minutes of walking, you’re starting to fear that the poorly drawn map from Mike really is just a poorly drawn map. Then, Steve stops. “Alright, Wheeler. I think we found your hub.”
You flick your flashlight around and your eyes widen. It’s huge. In the center lies a mound of what you hope is just mud, but you see a bone or two stick out from it and look away. To your left, there’s easily five or six more tunnels, each varying in width and height, and to your right is the same. 
Seeing how vast the tunnel system is, you’re thankful for Mike’s genius little brain. 
“Let’s drench it!” Except the vigor in his voice frightens you and you consider that he may be the world’s next mad scientist. 
However, a plan is a plan and you’ve already made it this far, so you set to work on spraying the area with gasoline. Between you, Steve, and the kids, within minutes you’ve created the world’s most flammable labyrinth. 
When you’re done, Steve guides the kids back towards the exit and you make sure everyone’s behind the two of you. He kneels, flicks out his lighter, and turns to everyone. “Alright, you guys ready?”
“Ready,” Max and Lucas say.
Dustin tightens his hand around yours, preparing to help you run as fast as you can with your ankle. “Light her up.”
Steve flicks his lighter open. “I am in such deep shit.”
“Together.” You nudge him with your shoe, and even though his face is hidden, you know he smiles. 
He takes a deep breath, winds his arm back, and flings the lighter into the center of the hub. 
Immediately everything bursts into flames. In the blaze, the strange roots that had been lying dormant on the ground now come to life as they flail against the heat. They twist and whip around, writhing in pain. The tunnels themselves almost seem to come to life as it writhes in pain. 
“Go, go, go!” Steve yells, pushing everyone back to start running. 
You stay behind with him, making sure all the kids have started to run before you finally let Dustin tug you along as well. The boy is screaming, hopping and dodging roots as best as he can while squealing, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
Steve takes the lead now, having somehow memorized the way out. “Let’s go!”
You’re disoriented. Dustin’s hand is gripping yours so harshly and it’s taking everything within you to keep up, but your ankle throbs and your left eye has only continued to swell from the punch earlier. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to follow along, and in your disorientation you lose track of Mike. 
When he falls, everything within you snaps back into focus. You tear your hand from Dustin’s and you’re at Mike’s side in a heartbeat, but already the roots have started to wrap around his leg; he screams. “Help! Y/N, help me!”
Your hands shake as you reach for your switchblade, adrenaline runs through you so violently that you feel lightheaded. Mike’s screams are the only thing keeping you grounded right now. As he panics, you roughly grab his shirt and force him back before you start to hack at the root with your knives. 
“Pull him back!” Steve instructs the kids, who have now joined. “Y/N, watch out!”
You have just enough time to cut through one root before dodging Steve’s bat as he hits at the other. It takes a few swings, but with one final blow, you and the kids are able to pull Mike free and help him stand back up. 
“You good?” Lucas pants, patting MIke’s shoulders for any injuries while Dustin asks, “You okay?”
You pull Mike into you and quickly hug him, damning whatever time constraint you currently have against you. Your hands are still shaking, which Mike feels, and he gives you a quick pat before pulling away. “Glad you care, but–”
“We gotta go!” Steve steps between you two, bat still in hand, when a growl erupts from behind him. 
Dustin shoves everyone behind him before you can stop him. He’s recognized the growl before you have. “Dart.”
The Demodog growls again. He’s bigger than ever before, now practically fully grown. His growth distracts you long enough to miss Dustin slowly starting to approach him. When you do, you immediately try to stop him. 
“Dustin–” Fear overtakes you.
“Steve, hold her back.” He orders. “Just trust me, okay?”
Steve’s arms wrap around you and you try to fight back. “No–”
“Y/N,” he whispers into your ear, keeping an eye on your brother as well. “If you freak out now, Dustin will get hurt.”
He’s right, you know he’s right, but your brother is only a foot away from Dart now and he’s now smaller than the creature. One wrong move, and he’s dead.
Dustin kneels in front of Dart and you feel your heart drop. You don’t dare breathe as he takes off his goggles and mask and leans in closer to the creature. “Hey, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin.”
Dart slowly inches forward as Dustin continues to talk. “You remember me? Will you let us pass?”
This time, Dart’s entire mouth opens as he snarls at Dustin.
Again you struggle in Steve’s arms, but he only tightens his hold on you as you watch your baby brother, terrified, face off against the Demodog. 
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Dustin lowers his voice, unwavering against Dart’s malice. “I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchy thing to do. I blame Y/N, she’s always the one who makes me do the right thing.”
The little shit has you scared out of your fucking mind, and yet he has the nerve to somehow make this your fault.
If he gets out of this alive, you’re never, ever letting him go again. 
Dustin reaches into his backpack, eyes never leaving Dart. “You hungry?
“He’s insane,” Lucas whispers in awe. Both you and Steve tell him to shut up, scared that any noise will cause Dart to attack.
“I’ve got our favorite.” Dustin waves the candy in front of Dart’s face. “See? Nougat.”
As soon as the Demodog sees the candy bar, his demeanor shifts and he happily approaches Dustin. Within seconds, your brother has managed to re-tame his weird Upside Down pet, and for a brief second you feel bad that Dustin can’t keep him. 
“Look at that. Yummy!” He places the candy on the ground as a peace offering and he starts to motion behind him, waving for you and everyone else to start moving. “Eat up, buddy.”
Steve guides Lucas, Max, and Mike past Dart and through the tunnel that was previously blocked by him, but you stay behind. Your knives are drawn; you’re not leaving your brother’s side. 
“There’s plenty,” Dustin coos to the creature, placing down one last candy bar before standing up. When he sees that you’re still there, he grabs your hand and starts to walk away with you. Feeling his hand, warm and alive against yours, is enough to calm you down enough to follow. Before the two of you leave, however, Dustin turns around one last time to look at Dart, a sad smile on his face. “Goodbye, buddy.”
Dart doesn’t show any reaction, too busy devouring the candy he’s been given, and you gently tug Dustin along to safety, albeit with some guilt. He really loved that little lizard thing. 
As soon as the two of you are out of danger, you pull Dustin into a bone crushing hug. “You’re stupid.”
“Stupid brave,” he mumbles against you, though his arms are tight against your waist. He had been scared, too. 
You snort and pull your bandana down so you can kiss the top of Dustin’s head. “Just stupid.” 
“Guys, we gotta go.” Steve whispers, feeling bad for interrupting your moment with the kid. He can still feel the way your body shook in his arms, how he could hear your terrified heartbeat as he held you back. He felt horrible for doing it, but he promised Nancy he’d keep the kids safe, and Steve knows that she also wanted him to protect you, too.
At Steve’s urgent whisper, you reluctantly nod and pull away from Dustin. With one last shoulder squeeze, you pat his back and tug at his hand to start running. As you run, the ground trembles beneath your feet. You’re the first one to fall, Max and Lucas not far behind. “Fuck!” 
Steve has your hand within his in seconds and he gently pulls you up. His face is obscured from the goggles and banana, yet you can see the concern when he looks at you. When he stands you back up, he pulls you close and whispers, “You okay?”
You nod, about to tell him to keep running, when you hear the first screech of the Demodogs. 
“What was that?” Max inches towards your side, now long familiar with what the screeches mean. 
As if almost in response to the girl, more screeches follow as they echo through the tunnels. Only this time, there’s more of them; more than you’d even want to imagine. The hair on your arms stands up as the screeching continues. You know that if you don’t run now, none of you will stand a chance. 
“They’re coming.” Mike realizes. “Run! Run, let’s go!”
You snatch Dustin’s hand and practically throw the kid forward with how harshly you begin running. Lucas and Max run past, while Mike follows after Steve. Your footsteps fall harshly against the tunnel’s earthy ground and it takes everything within you to keep going. When you round the corner and see the rope, you almost sob with relief. 
“Kids first!” You shout, damning whatever further damage it’ll do to your vocal chords.
Steve understands immediately and kneels beneath the rope to give the kids a boost up while you hold the rope taught and help lift them. Max is the first up, both you and Steve more so throwing her rather than helping her.
“C’mon!” Steve encourages her, and with one final shove from you, she makes it over the edge and is safe. 
Everything happens so fast, it’s a blur as you help Lucas start to climb out, then Mike, and as you’re hauling Dustin up next, you hear the Demodogs drawing near. 
“Oh, shit!” Steve hears them as soon as you do and he grabs for his bat and starts to place himself in front of you and Dustin, but you stop him. 
“No!” You yank him back and then grab your brother, shoving him underneath the rope. The shadows of the Demodogs cast against the wall, you know you only have seconds before they’re here. “Throw him up!”
Dustin realizes what you’re about to do. “Y/N, no–”
But Steve already has a grip on him. “You’re going home.”
“No!” Dustin screams and tries to stay behind, wriggling and thrashing, but with Steve’s help, you’re able to lift him to safety before the first Demodog appears. Dustin, now safely above ground, sees this too. His heart stops. “Y/N!”
“Steve! Y/N! Climb up!” The kids begin to shout now, urging you and the teen to get out of the tunnels, fear alive in their voices. 
You look up at them, see their faces alive with youth, and then turn to Steve. He seems to be thinking the same thing as you. You’ve both run out of time. He nods, you do as well, and together you’ve accepted your fate. Steve draws his bat as you raise your knives. 
“Y/N!” Dustin’s voice rings through clearer than the other’s, the despair evident. You close your eyes for a second, wishing that there was more you could’ve done, but at least he’s safe.
Jonathan will take care of him, Nancy will, too. 
He won’t be alone, and you have Steve with you, who is holding your hand as if it contains all the secrets of the world.
It’ll be okay. 
You open your eyes. 
The Demodogs, miraculously, start to run right past you and Steve. They weave between you two, not at all paying any attention. You stand as still as possible, not wanting to wake them from whatever trance they seem to be in. 
However, one particularly large Demodog crashes against your leg and sends you into Steve’s side, who wraps his arms around you with a fierce protectiveness. You duck your head down, unaware just how desperately you’d been craving his presence, and he buries you further against him as the monsters continue to run. 
The two of you cower, curling into one another, steadying the other, waiting for something to happen. Steve has his feet firmly planted and stands his ground as more monsters run past, and without him you would’ve fallen minutes ago, trampled by the creatures. 
When you can’t hear any more Demodogs, you slowly lift your head from Steve’s chest and look around. 
They’re gone. Each and every one of them has left. 
You’re still in Steve’s arms, your chests are pressed tightly together and you’ve never been this close to him before. When you look up at him, you can feel his breath against your skin. There’s an odd look in his eyes, he’s studying your face as if seeing it for the first time, and his gaze makes something deep within you stir. 
“Thank you,” you whisper, needing to say something. He’s once again saved your life, and your eyes can’t seem to leave his. 
His fingers dig into your side, it’s the only way he can respond. The sensation causes you to shiver and your eyes slowly drift down to his lips. They’re a lovely shade of pink, flush and full. You wonder what they’d taste like, if he’s wondered the same about you. 
Steve stares down at you and feels every breath you take, the rise and fall of your chest matching his. The two of you stand like this for a moment, hearts beating together as you cling to one another, until Dustin clears his throat. 
“Ahem,” he draws your attention. “There are kids here, ya know.”
Lucas, Max, and Mike all snicker when you frantically pull away from Steve in embarrassment. Both of your faces are red, the air between you still hangs with something you’re not quite sure how to name. 
“We’re coming.” Steve mumbles to your brother before turning to you. “Ready?”
You take a deep breath and nod, your nerves still shaky from being so close to him prior. When you’re ready, you grab onto the rope and feel Steve’s always gentle hands grip your waist. You’re slow climbing up, being the most injured out of everyone, but he’s patient with you and murmurs encouragement as you climb. 
Once you’re safely up, you help the kids with Steve. The moment his feet touch solid land, he lets out a low whistle and claps his hands. “Well, I’d say that went well–”
Suddenly, Billy’s headlights begin to shine obnoxiously bright. The light increases in its intensity, glowing brighter and brighter, so much so that you and everyone else have to shield your eyes. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the lights shut off. 
It’s quiet. No one says anything, unsure of what’s just happened, but you know.
“El,” you whisper, somehow knowing it’s her. Mike nods, understanding as well. 
She did it. 
She closed the gate. 
You pull the kids into you, dragging them all in your arms in a giant hug. All you feel right now is disbelief. The plan worked. You’re all somehow still alive. 
Steve stands behind you, his chest firm against your back, and you allow yourself to gently lean against him. To accept all that he’s silently providing you; there’s no point in fighting it any more. He’s here, offering you anything you need from him, and you’re exhausted from pretending that you don’t see it. 
After a few moments of silence, you finally release the kids and nudge them towards the car. 
It’s time to go home. 
– 
“So what exactly did you guys do with Billy?” Steve’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat, waves of exhaustion crashing upon you. From the rearview mirror, Steve sees Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all turn to Max slowly. He frowns. “Why are you all looking at her?”
Max shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “I handled it.”
“She sedated him and we left him on the floor at Will’s.” Dustin fills in the information that Max opted to omit, which she elbows him for. 
Steve blinks, turns to you, and asks, “You heard that too, right?”
“Mhm.”
“Cool.”
When you get to Jonathan’s, Billy is sitting hunched over on the porch, waiting. He looks rough, his eyes bleary and his hair matted. When you see him, you feel your throat constrict in pain and a sense of panic builds within you. You look towards Steve, see his bruised cheek, then notice the way Max squirms in the backseat being near Billy, and the panic is replaced with anger. 
He’s caused enough pain and turmoil to those you love. 
Steve parks the car and turns in his seat so that he’s facing everyone. “Alright, we all see that Billy is awake, so you guys stay here while I go and–”
“We.” You correct, swallowing down the pain you feel. 
Steve inhales and looks as if he wants to argue, but he just shakes his head and continues. “Okay, we go and talk to the guy.”
“I want to come.” Max says, though she still refuses to look in Billy’s direction. 
You rest a hand on her leg. You understand what she’s asking for, to handle her brother herself, take her life into her own hands. Max is a brave kid, she’s shown you that much tonight, and while you trust her to make the right decision, you’re still hesitant. “Are you sure?”
She thinks for a second before nodding. Her eyes harden and she juts her jaw out. She’s made up her mind, and you get a kick out of seeing the fire within her. Max Mayfield is an incredible young girl, and you’re honored to know that she trusts you. “I’m sure.”
“Then let’s go.”
You, Steve, and Max walk side by side towards Billy, though you make sure to place the girl slightly behind you in case her brother tries anything. 
When Billy notices you approach, he lifts his head up and waves lazily at the three of you. “Back already?” His words slur together and his eyes are glossy; the sedative must still be wearing off. 
Max steps forward. “Take me home.” 
Billy eyes her, looks between you and Steve, and then sighs. “Fine. Any other demands?”
The girl shakes her head. “I’ll wait in the car.”
And then she’s gone, leaving you and Steve alone with Billy. 
He eyes you, sees the bruises on your neck, and a languid smile drawls across his face. “Seems I left a mark, sweetheart.”
Steve steps forward, but you put your hand out and stop him. You appreciate him, you do, but this is something you have to do yourself. You swallow again, feeling the tender flesh within your throat constrict, and try to make your words come out as neutral as possible. “Seems I did, too.”
Billy looks down at his shoulder, the wound from your knife is still bleeding. “So you did.”
Lucas and the other boys stand off to the side now, having left the car alone for Max. When Billy notices them staring, he sighs and wipes his hands off on his jeans and slowly gets up. “Well, my bitch of a sister awaits.”
As Billy leaves, Mike runs up the steps and unlocks the front door. “Y/N, think you could make those cookies again? I’m starving.”
You glare at him and Steve laughs. “I’m not sure she can even walk up the steps, dude.”
“Yeah, look at her.” Dustin waves his hands in front of you. “She looks like a zombie.”
Lucas makes zombie sounds and pretends to eat Dustin’s brains before Mike joins in. The three of them chase each other into the house, screaming “brains” and “die” as they mess around, leaving you and Steve alone outside. 
He steps in front of you, his back towards you and he crouches down. “Care for a ride?”
You want to argue, but it’s becoming harder and harder to keep your eyes open. It’d be a miracle if you even manage up the first step on the porch. Hesitantly, you place your hands on Steve’s shoulders and jump onto his back.
“Atta girl,” he laughs, standing back up so that he can carry you inside and join the boys. You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle your face as you close your eyes. You’re seconds away from falling asleep. Steve seems to sense this and slows down his footsteps so as to not disturb you. 
He navigates the home, remembering where to go from his time here last year. You’re warm against him and Steve’s fingers draw lazy circles onto your ankles. The boys are in the kitchen, scurrying around for any food, and Steve relishes in this small moment with you.
You’re placed down into a soft bed and the smell of Jonathan overwhelms you; you open your eyes and realize that Steve has taken you to the boy’s room. The bed is warm beneath you, the scent soothes your wounds. 
“Jonathan’s?” You ask, confused as to why Steve would take you here.
“Figured it’s where you sleep when you’re here.” He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal, before grabbing the blankets and tucking you in. His movements are careful and he makes sure your head is resting on a pillow and that he takes off your shoes. 
The gentleness of his touch soothes you. You’ve never let anyone take care of you like this before. You let him play with your hair, wrap the blanket around you so that you won’t get cold, and when he finally seems pleased with his work, he flicks your nose and smiles. “Get some sleep, dork.”
“Everyone is safe?”
His eyes melt. “They are. They’ll be home soon. In the meantime, I’ll rustle up some grub for those heathens outside while you sleep. Doctor’s orders.”
You giggle and grab his hand to bring to your lips. They linger against his knuckles, you inhale and breathe in his scent, and Steve’s breath hitches at the touch. “Thank you,” you whisper against his skin before placing another kiss. 
There’s such a lovely buzz within your chest, holding Steve’s hand fills you with this syrupy warmth like honey, and you’ve never felt it before. It drips down your skin and into your bones, healing wounds both old and new with its kisses. 
Steve squeezes your hand with his. He feels it, too. You both do. 
A body slides in next to yours, rousing you from your sleep. A hand wraps around your waist and the fingers, long and lithe and familiar, skim your skin lazily. The sensation almost lulls you back to sleep, you know whose touch this is, whose body lays next to yours. 
You open your arms and engulf Jonathan into a hug. His body lays atop of yours, reminiscent of the night a few days ago when he snuck into your room before he left with Nancy. Your body has long since come to anticipate his weight against yours, it’s become accustomed to how he lands upon you. 
“What time is it?” You rasp, stroking Jonathan’s hair with your fingers as he breathes steadily against you. You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but the pain in your throat has lessened, your voice is slowly returning to normal.
“Early morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Steve took Dustin home, no one wanted to wake you. Apparently you had a rough night.”
You laugh, then wince at the pain it draws from your throat and ribs. “You could say that.”
Jonathan places another kiss upon your skin, this time against the base of your throat. He litters kisses up and down your neck, his breath tickling as he does so. “I’m sorry,” he says in between each kiss, as if his words will make the bruises fade faster. 
Rather than respond, knowing nothing you can say will make him believe that none of this is Jonathan’s fault, you simply hum at his kisses and lean into them. “Will?”
“He’s okay, he’s safe. Mom is with him now.”
You hum again, relishing in the knowledge that Will is okay and that Jonathan is once again here with you. The house is quiet, everyone else asleep, and the two of you lay like this for a while. No more words are said, Jonathan presses kisses against your skin as your fingers interlock through his hair and you run your hand up and down his back. 
Somehow, you know this will be the last time you ever have him like this. 
Just the two of you, uncrossed in any boundaries. Skin against skin, kisses to wounds and fingers intertwined. You hope that your body never forgets the weight of his. You hope that it will always anticipate his impact, welcoming it after a long day. Jonathan’s touch will soon become ghosts lingering on your skin, and selfishly you never want this moment to end. 
Uncrossed boundaries, threads and strings and lines. 
They’re here. You can see them now, they almost glow faintly within Jonathan’s room, the same room in which you grew up in. 
“Bee?” You whisper, nudging him gently to get his attention. He lifts his head from your neck and looks at you, eyes open and listening. “We have to talk about it.”
The early morning light streams through the curtain and illuminates Jonathan’s face. His eyes are a mixture of browns and reds and ambers and you try to remember what they look like now, before the words are said and nothing will ever be the same again. 
“I’m scared,” he admits. You’ve made him into who he is today, with all of his quirks and humor and love. Jonathan doesn’t know who he would be without you, and he’s terrified that he’ll say the wrong thing and lose you forever.
“I know,” you stroke his cheek. “I am, too.”
“I don’t want to–I can’t lose you.”
“You’ll never lose me, Jonathan Byers.” You’re firm in your words, now grasping at his face with your hands. “We’re connected, remember? String theory, you and me.”
Jonathan has tears in his eyes. “But I slept with Nancy.”
His confession only makes you sigh. “I know, bee.”
“I–I think… I think this time it’ll turn into something more. I… I think I love her, bug.” His voice cracks, terrified of his own words. He recognizes now, far too late, all that he’s missed. “But bug… I know there’s–that there’s some things we should’ve talked about. A long time ago… but I just…”
“I know,” you know everything he’s trying to tell you. There’s no hurt in your voice, only resignation, but you knew this would happen eventually. “We missed our chance a while ago.”
“Did we ever really have a chance?” He asks, thinking back to the day the two of you met. How easily you accepted him into your life, the role you unknowingly assigned to him as your best friend. How, for years, he’d been so in love with you but terrified it’d scare you away. 
You play with his fingers, thinking for a moment. “I’d like to think that we did. I think we just… We missed each other, along the way.”
He smiles, bittersweet and somber. “We would’ve been something great, huh?”
“You’re my person,” you tell him, a certain sadness creeping into your voice. It’s the truth. No one will ever know you like he does, no one can unravel you the way he can. The love you have for Jonathan is unyielding, it transcends everything else you’ve ever felt. “Of course we would’ve been something great.”
“And now?”
You bite your lip, unsure. “Now we just… We let go.”
Jonathan tightens his arms and presses himself further against you. “I’m never letting you go, Y/N Henderson.”
You feel tears beginning to form in your eyes, both from grief and acceptance. “You don’t have to, but we have to let go of our claim to one another. You’re Nancy’s, now. It wouldn't be fair otherwise. To anyone.”
“And you’re Steve’s?” He asks, hesitant to bring the boy up. While you watched Jonathan fall in love with Nancy, he’s watched you fall for Steve. 
“I think I could really love him,” you admit, breathless. “I think I’ve already started to fall for him.”
Jonathan’s heart twists at the breathlessness in your voice, though he knows he’ll have to get used to this. To no longer being the reason for your bashfulness. It’ll take time, but he knows in the end that it’s for the better. “You deserve to go for it, bug.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he playfully pokes your side. “Nancy fucked up with him, and I fucked up with you. The two of you deserve better than us, and I… I want you to be happy, you know that.”
“I know, but…” you turn to him now, needing him to understand all that you still don’t know how to voice yourself. “Remember our pinky promise from last year?”
Jonathan wiggles his pinky at you, unsure where you’re going with this. “I do.”
“We’ll always stay like this, right? You and me?” You know it’s selfish to ask, to expect everything to stay the same between you, but losing Jonathan would be the one thing you’d never recover from. He’s in your bones, now. He’s grown up alongside you, patched up your wounds as a child and now holds your hands through the nightmares you face together. 
It doesn’t matter how you and Jonathan end, whether you’re lovers in this universe or simply the best of friends. Regardless of what’s happened, he’s the most important person in your life. He always will be.
Jonathan presses a kiss upon your forehead, his lips warm. “Always, and I’ll always love you the most, bug.”
“I’ll always love you the most, bee.” The words come easily to you, an exhale after being inhaled so long ago. 
The world stills. Then, as slow as the sun rises after a harsh winter’s night, the strings and lines finally settle between you two.
“Let’s go to bed.” Jonathan whispers, wanting to hold onto you for at least a few more hours. 
In the late morning hours the two of you will wake up, and it will be the last time you do so in each other’s arms. 
– 
When Jonathan drops you off at home the next day, your mom freaks when she sees you. Dustin had tried to prepare her, making up some lie about how you’d fallen down at the Byers’ house and that’s why you couldn’t come home for a few days. However, your mom still had a heart attack when you walked through the front door with a split head, black eye, bruised neck, and a bloodied side. 
“My baby!” She took you into her arms and immediately set her eyes on Jonathan. “What, did you have a bear in the house or something?”
Jonathan looked over at Dustin with a helpless look on his face and your brother had sighed. He figured he’d have to be the one to take over. “Like I said, mom. Y/N just got really into our campaign and fell. She’s fine, I mean, look at her!”
You did your best to appear very fine and healthy, despite your concussion forming a horrendous headache. You forced a smile on your face, all teeth. “All fine and dandy, mom.”
Claudia Henderson hadn’t bought it.
You were placed under house arrest for two weeks. 
During these two weeks, you were only allowed to leave the house to either go to work (somehow Mrs. Waters still hasn’t fired you despite missing three days of work), and go to school. It wasn’t so bad, though. You had needed the rest, and Nancy visited you a few days into your house arrest.
You’re not sure when she officially began her relationship with Jonathan, but the first time she came to see you, she had brought a giant basket full of baked goods and comics she had asked Jonathan about. 
“You didn’t have to get me anything, Nance.” You had informed the girl when you saw her struggling to carry the basket. 
“I stole your boyfriend, it’s the least I could do.” You stared at her, eyes so wide that your black eye almost fully opened, and Nancy had let out a loud laugh. You’d never heard her laugh so openly before, and it was a beautiful sight. “It was a joke, Y/N. It’s okay to laugh.”
“Ha, ha, Wheeler.” You took the basket from her and inspected its contents. There were more comics than you could count and the muffins smelled delicious. “This is a good haul.”
Nancy had smiled, relieved that she’d done something right. She had bugged Jonathan all day yesterday, anxious to do something nice for you because she felt this crippling need to make you like her. He had reassured her a million times that you did already like her, but Nancy has never been the best at making friends, and she knows the history between you and her is tense. 
“You really like it?”
“I love it, dude.” You saw the way Nancy’s body relaxed, as if she had been terrified you’d burn the basket in front of her face. It’s only then that you realized why she was there. “You and Jonathan finally seal the deal?”
Nancy blushed, still unused to how well you perceive others. “We did.”
“Took you guys long enough!” You squealed and threw your arms around her, elated for your friends. Sure, it still stung a bit, but Nancy was trying, so you were too. “But can I say just one thing, and then we’ll bury the hatchet for good?”
“Of course, Y/N.” Nancy said, though you felt her body tense underneath your hold. She had been bracing for impact, and it broke your heart to imagine how she was feeling in that moment. 
You grabbed her hand and looked her in the eye. “I’m happy for you two, I really am, okay? You know my history with Jonathan, and I’m sure he’s told you everything, but I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say.”
“I’m listening,” she whispered, gripping your hand tightly. 
“If anything, and I mean anything, bothers you about my relationship with him, I need you to tell me. Don’t let anything simmer, don’t swallow down any hurt. I need you to know that I will always respect your guys’ relationship, and if you ever feel that I don’t, please tell me.”
Nancy, to your surprise, had laughed. “That’s it? Geesh, Y/N. I was expecting you to threaten me with your knives or something. I understand your connection with Jonathan, I know what I agreed to.” She paused, and then added with a sly smirk, “Besides, I know you wouldn’t cross any boundaries because you’ve spent practically all year pining after Steve.”
“I did not!” You gaped at her, shocked that she would say such a thing, and Nancy laughed so hard that it took both you and her another ten minutes to say anything else. It was lovely, laughing alongside the girl you once held so much resentment over. Now there you were, rib cage aching with glee.
And that’s how Nancy Wheeler became your best friend.  
After that, things seemed to settle down during the month that followed the events of Hawkin’s Lab. 
While you healed your wounds at home, Jonathan and Nancy came to visit you whenever they could. It was weird, at first, being in the same room as them now that they were together, but within minutes the three of you formed your own dynamic. You and Nancy teased Jonathan while he simply shook his head at the two of you and did whatever you asked. 
It was a good dynamic, really. 
A week into house arrest, your mom let you finally return to work.
Of course, on your first day back, Steve was standing inside of Bookstrordinary, waiting for you. 
Seeing him there, hair messy and smile warm, felt like coming home. 
“Back so soon?” You had teased, walking slowly up to him. 
His smile widened and he grabbed your hand and tugged you closer, impatient with how long it was taking you to come to him. “Like I could wait any longer.”
“I stack and you sort?”
“Let’s get to work, Henderson.” He winked and spun you around, causing you to giggle, a sound he’d come to adore, and the two of you set off to work. 
Steve becomes a regular at Bookstrorindary again, and one day you come home from school to find him sitting at your kitchen table with Dustin and your mom. They were eating an after school snack together, chatting as if they were old friends. Your mom was even blushing as Steve charmed her. It was a disorienting sight, to say the least. 
“Is this going to be a thing now?” You’d asked, setting your backpack down to grab your own snack and join. 
“I invited him.” Dustin said with a mouth full of apples. “He’s cool, and mom likes him, so. Yeah.”
Your mom pinched Steve’s cheek and giggled. “He’s just so charming!”
Steve sent you a wink, basking in your mother’s praise, and in that moment, seeing him with the two people you loved most in this world, you knew.
It hit you like a warm, soft summer breeze. It swirled around you, kissed your skin the way only the sun can do, and you could almost smell the fresh summer honey that your dad used to buy for your birthday. The feeling was serene, it felt as easy as exhaling.
You were in love with Steve Harrington. 
Only this time, the realization made you smile; you accepted it with open arms. You walked over to him and ruffled his hair before sitting next to him at the table. Biting your own apple, you winked at your mom, agreeing with what she had said. “He is indeed very charming.”
Dustin gagged while Steve draped an arm across your chair and stole your apple. “That I am, Y/N.”
Maybe love wasn’t so bad after all.
The following week, both Steve and Nancy asked you to attend Barb’s funeral, and of course you went. 
It was a small service, and Jonathan held Nancy’s hand throughout all of it. While it hurt to see her cry, you can’t help but think about how incredible Nancy is. She’s the reason that Barb is even getting a funeral in the first place, having brilliantly exposed Hawkin’s Lab and giving her friend the justice she deserves. 
Steve stood next to you, stoic and guilty, and after the service ended you had to pull him aside and remind him that none of it had been his fault. He listened, but you know he hadn’t necessarily heard you.
It’s similar to how you feel with Will, and how Jonathan feels with you, and Nancy with Barb. 
You all hold a heavy weight within you, of guilt and shame and despair. There’s nothing that specifically can be done to lessen it. All you can do is allow the ones you love to carry the weight with you, to share it and accept the help that they offer. 
Time can’t heal all wounds, you recognize this now, so you do things for those you love and see the good that’s still there, even if it’s hard sometimes. 
And that’s what you do.
You start stopping by Hopper’s cabin to see El.
He hated it at first, but when you showed up one day with a box of nail polish and comics, El had been so overjoyed that he simply sighed and let you in. 
You teach the girl how to read, having her say words out loud as you paint her nails, and it’s lovely. It’s rare to get the girl all to yourself, so spending time with her is always the favorite part of your day. Plus, she starts to get really into Spider-Man, so you’ve done your job as an avid fan. 
As for Will and the boys, you start to make it a point to partake in their DnD campaigns whenever possible. While it’s hard balancing work, school, El, and the party, you don’t regret it for a single second. It’s exhausting, but a good kind of exhaustion. One that leaves your bones aching in a rewarding way at the end of the day.
You’ll never tell Jonathan this, but he had been right a few months ago. You’d been burning yourself out, running away from everything you didn’t want to confront, from your feelings to your crippling worry for the kids. You’re not sure how much you had left in you, looking back now.
You had been drowning for a long, long time. 
But as you pick up Dustin and Will from Mike’s, Jonathan by your side as always, your nails painted a messy shade of blue thanks to El, and Steve waiting for you back at your house, you’re finally able to breathe. 
– 
It somehow takes you the entire day to get Dustin ready for the Snowball. 
He’s running around the house, frantically trying to find his bowtie that he’s misplaced, and you’re currently digging through the endless supply of hairspray that Steve dropped off yesterday. There’s so much hair products within the bag that he delivered, and it actually scares you a little. 
No way this much chemicals can be good for a kid. 
“Did you find the bowtie?” You yell from the bathroom, finally managing to open the bottle of hairspray that Steve specifically told you to use first. 
“Yes!” Dustin runs back into the bathroom and throws the piece of fabric at you. “Quick, put it on while I spray my hair!” 
You roll your eyes at him but do as he asks, securing his bowtie to his baby blue button shirt. However, as he sprays his hair, he almost blinds you in the process. “Christ, Dustin! That’s practically a weapon.”
He continues to spray. “You’re the one who insisted on helping me get ready.”
“I wanted you to look handsome,” you coo at him, straightening his bowtie one final time before stepping back and admiring your handiwork. “All done, and look at you!”
Dustin sprays even more product into his hair and tries to shove you out of the bathroom, but he secretly preens. “Am I really handsome?”
You admire him and you can’t believe how grown up he is now. He’s grown another three inches since last month and with the way he’s styled his hair, he looks like a teenager. Your heart stings a bit, seeing him no longer look like the little brother you know and love. He’s changing, growing up. “The handsomest.”
He smiles at you. “Thanks, Y/N. Now go get dressed while I finish my hair. Steve will be here any minute!”
You salute him and run to your room. Nancy had asked you to chaperon alongside her at the dance, and you figured it’d be fun watching Dustin and the party failing miserably with prepubescent girls, so you agreed. However, because it somehow took five hours helping your brother get ready, you run around your room in a hurry.
You’ve just finished applying some mascara when the doorbell rings, and your heart skips a beat.
“Y/N, Steve is here!” Your mother calls, a slight glee in her voice. She’s quickly come to adore the boy, something that Steve milks whenever he can. He’s incredibly proud of it, honestly. 
You run to the door and open it, Dustin is still spraying his hair to death in the bathroom. 
When Steve sees you, he forgets how to speak. You’re dressed in a soft white dress and you’ve pinned the front two pieces of your hair back. You’ve dotted your lips with a berry-red lipstick and your cheeks look more flushed than usual. 
You see the blush that immediately forms on Steve’s cheeks and you giggle, suddenly shy. It’s awkward, but a nice awkward between you two. “Hey.”
“H–hi.” His voice squeaks and he clears his throat. “I–I mean, hey. You, uh… You look. Wow. I mean, not wow, but also wow–”
“Dude,” Dustin now joins and looks disappointedly at Steve. “Get it together, man.”
He pats his chest and starts heading towards the car, and you can’t help but snort. “He’s so lovely, isn’t he?”
Steve holds out his arm for you to take, the momentary awkwardness now gone. “The Henderson charm is a fascinating thing.”
During the car ride, the closer Steve gets to the school, the more you see Dustin fidget in the back seat. He had been so excited earlier, but now you notice the doubt in his eyes and the way he keeps patting his hair, unsure. 
You tap Steve’s hand to get his attention. When he looks over, you motion towards the backseat and he realizes what you’re trying to tell him. He nods, and the two of you silently agree to give the kid a pep talk once you get to the school. 
“Alright, buddy. Here we are.” Steve parks the car and tries to give Dustin a reassuring smile, but your brother looks out the window and exhales nervously. “Remember, once you get in there…”
“Pretend like I don’t care.”
You interrupt. “Okay, no. I thought we abandoned that idea last month.”
“Technically you abandoned it, I didn’t.” Dustin responds, and Steve shrugs his shoulders at you. 
“Dustin, I really want you to be yourself, okay?” You turn to face the kid. “What did I tell you last month, huh?”
“That we Hendersons are charming people.” He grumbles. 
“Exactly, and I meant that. Use your charm, buddy.”
Dustin isn’t listening, instead he tries to look at himself in the rearview mirror to once again fix his hair. Steve sees this and stops him. “Hey, listen to your sister, alright? You look great, okay?”
“Such a handsome lad.”
Steve puts his hand up to stop you. “Okay, ignore her and listen to me. Now, you’re gonna go in there…”
Dustin nods. “Yeah.”
“Look like a million bucks.”
“Yeah!”
“And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead.”
“Like a lion.”
You cringe. “I’m not at all liking this language use in relation to women.”
Dustin purrs, just to spite you, but now Steve cringes and shakes his head, “Yeah, don’t do that, okay?”
“Okay.” Dustin deflates, but when Steve offers him his hand to shake, his face lights back up and he accepts it. 
Steve winks at the kid. “Good luck.”
“You got this!” You shout as Dustin exits the car. He gives you a thumbs up and starts to walk towards the school, leaving just you and Steve alone in the car. 
With Dustin gone, a tension creeps within the car. You look over at Steve and he catches your eye, and your stomach flutters. You can’t deny that there’s nothing there, and it’s… it’s nice, honestly. 
You don’t feel the same fear you did with Jonathan. You can look at Steve and admire his beauty and all you feel is warmth. His smile doesn’t hurt you, and the way he’s looking at you so unabashedly no longer scares you. 
“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve says, his voice honest and dripping with honey. 
You blush, and he wants to kiss the pretty red until it colors his own lips as well. “Thank you.”
There’s more you both want to say, but for now you simply enjoy each other’s presence. It’s too soon, you know this. He’s still in love with Nancy, and you don’t blame him. Instead, you bask in his gaze and he admires how lovely you are. How lovely you always are.
He feels it, too. He knows what you’re thinking, and for once he feels comfortable with where he is. You’re here, next to him, expecting nothing but what you know he’s ready to give you. 
You press a kiss to his cheek, and Steve’s heart aches. “Drive home safe, okay?”
As you pull away, he catches your arm and stops you. You look up, confused, and Steve’s gaze softens. He doesn’t know how else to say it, how else to ask you to stay. “Be patient with me, okay?”
You don’t have to ask what he means; you know. 
Whatever he needs, you’ll give it to him. You place a hand on his face and stroke his cheek, he leans against the touch and closes his eyes. This is the easiest promise you’ve ever made. “Take all the time you need, I’ll be here.”
The words cause Steve to sigh, you’re too good for him. You’re everything lovely and beautiful and kind, and Steve can’t believe how lucky he is to know you, to have you in his life the way no one else does. That you’ll wait for him, trusting him with your heart, and he can’t believe that you’re real.
“You’re an angel.” He breathes out, feeling everything constrict within his chest when you smile. 
“And you’re sweet honey.” You press one last kiss to Steve’s face and get out of the car. No other words are needed. 
Steve watches you as you leave, your kiss still burning his face, the same burning warmth he’s come to love about you. He watches as you walk up to Nancy inside the school and she hands you a drink, the two of you laughing. You both look so different standing side by side. 
A girl Steve loves and the girl he knows that in time he’ll come to love more than anything else. 
He’s already falling for you, he thinks he has been ever since he first saw you all those years ago when you were twelve and he was thirteen. He’s falling for you, but he won’t rush it. It wouldn’t be fair to you, not after everything you’ve been through. 
So Steve admires you, he watches the way your hair dances as you laugh and the way the kids around you smile in admiration. He forgets that Nancy is even there, his eyes only on you, and for the first time in a long time, Steve smiles a real smile. 
Your kiss on his cheek lingers, and he presses his fingers to it and feels his body warm. You’ll be waiting for him, and that’s more than enough for now.
Take your time, I’ll be here.
And Steve believes you.
[END OF SEASON 2]
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gardenofnoah · 11 months
Text
the friend that you are
tags: MDNI, smut (DP), afab gn reader (they/them pronouns), kiri x baku x reader, the beginning of a triad probably, eijiro is a grimy little opportunist and we love him for it, dubcon (reader is hit with a sex quirk), there is absolutely no plot here and this now feels like a crack fic to me but no level of cringe will stop me
wc: 2.2k
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Eijiro can't think of a time he's ever driven so fast in his life.
but when Bakugou—pro hero Dynamight—texts him "SOS" without any further context, it feels warranted. he can't pull into the driveway fast enough, fighting with the seatbelt for only a second before he's up the walk and through the door—already hardening his skin in anticipation of a threat he's sure exists. he hears a whimper that sounds an awful lot like you, and that has him nearly kicking his best friend's bedroom door down—
"oh," he says, blinking dumbly at the scene before him.
you, nearly folded in half and naked as the day you were born at the end of the bed, split wide open on Katsuki's cock, in tears and babbling with almost no coherency. Katsuki, flushed red from head to toe, who hasn't even looked up to see that there's an intruder in his bedroom. Eijiro takes a step back, already stuttering out a flustered and half conscious apology like he wasn’t just called here—
"wait, Ei—" Katsuki rasps, and it freezes Eijiro in place because he sounds panicked in a way he doesn't recognize, "they got hit with a fuckin' quirk—"
the thrust of his hips punctuates every staggered phrase out of his mouth. "been at this for hours. s'just getting worse—"
Eijiro knows immediately what's being asked of him and can't find it in himself to say a word. the pauses stretches on between them.
“c’mon, Red,” Katsuki is all but begging now, and Eijiro can almost see the way that each second that passes has his friend's heart skipping painfully in his chest. “you have to—just, do something—“
Eijiro feels his own heart drop at the way Katsuki is so visibly in distress—face contorted both in pleasure and genuine fear. his gaze falls to you—flushed with fever, writhing and sweating through the blankets Katsuki had evidently tried to swaddle you in. he doubts you’re even lucid at this point—your stuttered pleas even less coherent than they were only a minute ago. every roll of Katsuki’s hips has you gasping—gulping for air and twisting your body in search of more. against his own morality, Eijiro feels his cock stir in his jeans.
“did you—have they—” he starts hesitantly, unsure how to ask. unsure how to proceed.
“came fuckin’—a lot,” Katsuki grits his teeth, trying to keep his grip on you—trying to keep you still in your search for some pleasure he can’t provide—not on his own. “don’t know what fuckin’ shit quirk this is but i can’t—”
he’s cut off mid sentence by the force of your next orgasm—Eijiro watches the breath get knocked out of him and it looks painful. Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut tight, his whole body rigid as you try to take more than he can give. he doesn’t stop the movement of his hips—doesn’t dare do anything else but bully his way into your slick, swollen heat, but it’s clear that he’s exhausted.
Eijiro sighs, running a hand over his face. it's not as if he's never thought of this—it's not as if he's never fucked his fist to the thought of his best friend fucking you in the private shame of his own room—but this is uncharted territory between the three of you. he decides that that conversation can be had another time—after he’s sure you’ll be alright. after all, it would be antithetical of everything he’s sworn himself to be for him to turn away from you right now.
“alright,” he breathes, reaching for his belt. he rids himself of his pants with urgency, shamefully hard in his briefs. “you’ll have to move. you alright to get underneath?”
Katsuki pulls out of you with a broken, exhausted groan that goes straight to Eijiro’s cock—he tries not to think about it. he sees the blond nod in his peripheral, and watches as he leans over your limp body.
“baby,” he rasps softly, pressing a kiss to your sweat-slicked forehead, “Red’s gonna help me make it better, alright? just a little more for me?”
you whine underneath Katsuki, arching into his affection, and Eijiro has the thought that he ought to look away from such intimacy, but he doesn't. you're rolled you to your side so the blond can slide in next to you, and then he pulls you up until you’re draped across his chest. Katsuki’s feet stay planted on the floor and with the way that you’re spread open over his thighs, Eijiro can see everything. he feels downright grimy for the way he cannot look away from the slick that drools from your abused little hole and disappears down the curve of your ass, nor from the way Katsuki’s cock still shines with it—rock hard and nearly purple with the strain of trying to keep his own orgasm at bay, cradled between your cheeks. he fights the urge to brush his thumb through the arousal that’s collected at the tip.
“how—do you want to—”
“just fuckin'—put it in,” Katsuki rasps, clearly resigned to the situation.
Eijiro blinks, unsure he’s heard his friend correctly—but there’s nothing but pure desperation on the smaller man’s face, and it clicks.
he’s really doing this.
he shoves his briefs down unceremoniously, exhaling sharp and harsh. he takes himself in hand, pumping once, and then twice—completely unnecessary, because he’s been ready to sink inside you since he walked in the door.
“i’m sorry about this, sweetheart,” he finds himself murmuring down to you, trying to at least be kind.
“p-please—” it’s a broken sob that leaves your lips as you arch back against Katsuki, “please—”
it’s all the redhead needs to line himself up and push forward, unable to stop the gasp that leaves him when you surround him in a vice grip that puts his fist to shame.
he splits you open carefully, or tries to, until one hard kick of your hips sucks him in to the hilt.
you wail, straining in Katsuki’s hold as you fight to get closer. he goes rigid with the effort it takes not to cum right then. you thrash beneath him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock—
“alright,” Katsuki grits, trying to adjust underneath you. Eijiro recognizes the version of Katsuki in front of him to be not unlike pro hero Dynamight—a little cold, focused as if it’s an emergency. he supposes this is also an emergency, and feels some guilt about it also maybe being the best day of his life. “stay there for a second. just let me—”
Eijiro watches his best friend spit into his hand and smear it over himself, and knows suddenly and with certainty that there is no coming back from this. Katsuki looks properly debauched, flushed from his cheeks down to his neck and covered in a sheen of sweat, as he takes himself in hand and lines up with your puckered entrance.
“don’t you have to get them—”
“no,” Katsuki cuts him off, sparing him a glance as he pushes into your body, “already—fuck—tried this today—”
Eijiro can’t say anything, then, because he feels everything—the squeeze of your slippery insides, and the curve of his best friend’s cock pressed snuggly against his own, separated only by that thin barrier.
“oh fuck,” he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut. he cracks one open to look at you and immediately wishes he hadn’t.
you’ve gone silent for the first time since he walked in, frozen in some picture of pleasure that he knows is exactly what you needed. your pretty mouth hung open, eyes rolled back into your head, suspended in time between the two of them—
Eijiro’s hips kick forward, seemingly of their own will, and you’re brought back to the present. you clamp down around him hard, and Katsuki must feel it too, because he lets out a strangled whimper that does well to possess Eijiro completely.
and he can’t stop, then—carving out a space for himself inside you, selfishly, he thinks—but he can’t bring himself to be gentle. the pace of his thrusts are brutal and evidently necessary, because for the first time you go pliant against Katsuki’s chest, content to take everything he’s giving you.
and he wants to give you everything.
he feels Katsuki’s cock slide against his—weakly, like he’s at least trying to keep up with Eijiro but can’t quite do it—and it unlocks something primal inside of him.
“you just needed stuffed full, huh?” he hears himself say, leaning down to bite at the soft give of your stomach, and under the curve of your breast. he has no idea if you can even hear him at this point, but he thinks you might, judging by the way you go rigid underneath him.
“shit, ei—” Katsuki gasps—if it’s a warning, he ignores it.
“just needed these sweet little holes plugged up,” he coos, pausing his taunting to fasten his lips around a nipple and suck, scraping it gently with sharpened teeth until he feels it pebble under his tongue.
you cry out, shaking like a leaf underneath his onslaught. he feels half out of his mind at the sound of your choked moans and the slick suction of you pulling him back in every time he pulls out.
“poor thing,” he murmurs, angling his hips until he feels the head of his cock hit where you need it the most, “you just needed both of us to make you feel good, huh?”
he looks down to watch himself disappear inside you, and sees Katsuki’s thick fingers reach over your hip to rub tight little circles into your achy clit. the contrast between his friend’s uncharacteristic gentleness and his own newfound brutality makes him dizzy.
he knows with certainty that it’s going to make you cum. knows that it'll be enough to break the hold the quirk has on you. you just need a little more.
“c’mon sweetheart,” he breathes, leaning down to nip at your jaw, “let’s make Kat cum, hm? he’s working so hard to help you.”
he feels out of his body and knows he is way out of line when he reaches down between your bodies to spread his fingers around where Katsuki still fucks your ass. he brushes his fingers over the base of the blonde’s cock and against his balls—tutting at how tight they are. Katsuki lets out a groan that sounds like it was torn from him against his will.
“fuck, fuck, fuck—”
“he’s hurting for you baby,” Eijiro whispers into the curve of your throat as he picks up the pace of his own thrusts, “you gonna make him cum?”
it’s a chain reaction, then—he feels all the breath leave your body as every muscle locks up—freezing in time for one devastating moment before you’re pushed over the edge. howling like a wild animal and fluttering rapidly around both cocks stuffed deep inside you. it sends Katsuki hurtling toward his own release—Eijiro can’t help but be wholly overcome by the way his best friend’s face contorts with pleasure and unbridled relief—
his own orgasm surprises him and he lets go inside your body, feeling you wring him dry. he fights the grip of your silken walls to fuck every drop of it deep inside you, hooked on some possessive instinct his brain has latched onto. his hips stutter with the effort and the breath that leaves him is ragged and spent, hot against your rapidly cooling body.
you jolt underneath him with little aftershocks as his hips roll forward gently, and he tells himself it’s for the sake of making sure the quirk has well and truly worn off. he feels Katsuki soften inside your body and he feels stuck—unable to pull himself from the feeling of both of you wrapped around him and against him—so he lets out a breath that sounds more fatigued than he feels. hopes it covers the way he wants to keep taking.
“let me out, Red,” Katsuki says weakly, and it snaps him out of it—at least a little bit. Eijiro chuckles, sliding out of you gently and moving back some so the blond can roll you back to your side. for one fleeting moment, Eijiro catches sight of the cum leaking out of both of your puffy little holes, and fights the urge to clean you up with his tongue.
Katsuki tucks you in with the cleanest blankets he can find and lays flat on his back next to you, an arm slung over his face as his breathing returns to normal. Eijiro watches and feels removed—like a voyeur seeing something he shouldn’t.
“the fuck are you standin’ there for?”
eijiro jumps, eyes snapping to katsuki, who is still not looking at him.
“i—uh. do you want me to—”
“just lay down, Ei,” Katsuki sighs, letting his arm drop from his face to reach over and hit the empty space on the other side of you. “we’ll fuckin’…talk about it later.”
Eijiro nods, exhaling shakily as he makes it to the side of the bed in record time, climbing in beside you gingerly. Katsuki doesn’t move his arm—just clasps a warm, calloused hand around Eijiro’s shoulder and it feels like a silent , affectionate affirmation he didn’t know he needed.
“thanks. for helping,” Katsuki whispers gruffly, eyes still closed. Eijiro hums, relaxing under his hold. your breath puffing slow and sweet in his ear.
“yeah. of course.”
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wintfleur · 3 months
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can we have a blurb of stella and her siblings when there younger, maybe stella getting hurt?
ꔫ broken bratz dolls and hello kitty band-aids
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°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X siblings! Hughes brothers )
°. — details ( g; fluff, little bit of angst, siblings being siblings. w; mentions of blood and sibling fights, Stella being the cutest, Jack just having a emotional moment, Luke being Stella’s protector, and Quinn being a tired big brother. wc; 2k )
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I love writing the Hughes sibling dynamic sm! Thank you for requesting, I really hope you guys enjoy this!! Please don’t be a silent reader, I love to hear your thoughts!! )
°. — ( Stella is 5, Luke is 6, Jack is 8, Quinn is 10 )
°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )
au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!
It was a regular day for the four Hughes siblings. The two eldest brothers were dressed in their favorite jerseys and hockey gear as they practiced shooting. The youngest brother was playing with his dump trucks in the dirt, and Stella was playing in the grass with her bratz dolls, she was wearing a pink sundress that matched with her cloe doll. Her hair was a mess, she had asked Luke to try to recreate the ponytails one of her dolls had with her hair. 
“And Jack Hughes scores” Jack cheers after his goal, a big smile on his lips and even though Quinn was annoyed that he scored on him the older brother couldn't help but smile too as Jack celebrates. Stella paid no attention to her cheering brother as she moved from the grass to the driveway, looking for the missing guitar for her doll. Her eyes light up when she sees it laying in the middle of the driveway, it must have fallen out of her basket when she ran from Luke who was chasing her with a handful of dirt earlier. 
“Watch my sick celly” Jack shouts at Quinn, holding his stick out and spinning around. The grin on Jack's face from scoring quickly vanishes at the horrifying sound of the toe of his hockey stick smacking against something as he spins around. Stella was so caught up in her own imagination to notice her brother and his stick until it's too late. Jack’s eyes widen in fear as he watches Stella fall back on her butt, the doll in her hands falling and breaking. Her favorite doll. 
Quinn and Luke's eyes are immediately drawn to the loud sound of the smack and their eyes widen at the sight of their little sister on the ground of the driveway and Jack standing in front of her with his hockey stick in the air. The three brothers watch as blood starts to drip down from her quivering lip and down her now red chin, her big brown eyes are immediately filled with tears that quickly roll down her face. She silently cried for a few seconds as she was still in shock, but her brothers watched as she brought her dirty hands to cover her bloody lip, loud sobs leaving her body. It happened so fast. 
Quinn immediately skated to her side, dropping down to his knees and trying to pry her dirty hands from her face. He muttered reassuring words to Stella, trying to convince her to move her hands so he could see but she just cried harder. Quinn looked at Jack who still stood there in shock, there was so much blood coming from her lip and dripping down her face and onto her pink dress, Quinn shouted at Jack to go get mom. 
Jack quickly nodded and dropped his stick, turning around and quickly skating towards the front door. Luke, who was watching the scene with a look of fear, turns into a look of anger as he drops his toy truck and rushes to his feet, a sound of surprise and pain leaving Jack's lips when he's jumped on from behind. Jack lets out a cry of pain when he feels his chin get cut on the driveway at the impact. 
“Get off me” Jack screeches at Luke, a shout of pain follows when Luke tugs on Jack's hair, his knee digging into his back. Quinn looks at his brothers in disbelief, yelling at them to stop. Luke, who was angry at Jack for hurting Stella, doesn't stop his attack. Stella starts to sob louder, absentmindedly leaning against Quinn as Jack and Luke continue to shout at each other. Quinn tries to calm Stella but he himself was getting overwhelmed, thankfully the shouts of Jack and Luke got the attention of their mother who was getting ready to start on dinner. 
 “What is going on here” Ellen shouted as she rushed out of the house, she left her children alone for 5 minutes to preheat the oven and she's welcomed back with a brawl. Ellen moves to her two youngest sons and pulls an angry Luke off a crying jack. “Luke, get off your brother now!” 
“Mom!” Quinn shouts her name to get her attention. Ellen looks away from her sons and a worried gasp leaves her lips at the sight of her bleeding and crying daughter. She rushes over to her only daughter; she didn't hear Stella's cries over her son's shouts. “It's okay, let me see” Ellen coos as she pulls Stella's hands from her face, Ellen holds in her wince at the sight and moves her hands under Stella's armpits to pick her up and bring her to her chest. 
“Inside you two, i expect a good explanation on what happened” Ellen scolds her two youngest boys as she rushes a still crying stella into the house. Quinn helps Jack up from the ground while a glaring Luke follows after Stella and their mom, Jack pushes Quinn's hand off him and quickly wipes off his tears before shouting at Quinn. “I’m a terrible brother! Luke and Stella hate me!”  
“They don't hate you” Quinn starts but before he could finish comforting his brother, Jack quickly skates off into the open garage, jack pressing on the button to close the garage behind him. Quinn sighs and takes off his skates before entering the house through the front door, he knows jack would need a moment to himself, he was an emotional boy. 
Quinn hears the sound of Stella's crying as he walks into the kitchen. Stella was sitting on the counter with Luke by her side, holding her hand while their mom stood in front of her and tried to clean the blood off her face so she could clean the cut and bandage it. Stella's eyes go to Quinn, and she immediately cries out for her big brother “Quinny it hurts.” 
“I know but moms gonna fix it all up and it won't hurt anymore” Quinn spoke softly as he moved to his mother's side, holding onto Stella's other hand. Stella squeezes her brother's hand tightly when Ellen starts to clean the cut. Stella sniffles and blinks away her tears “Promise?” 
“I promise” Quinn promises, softly squeezing her hand back. Ellen smiles proudly at her eldest child, before pulling out Stella's favorite band aids. Jack quietly walked into the kitchen, and he felt even more guilty as he watched his mom fix up Stella's lip and chin. He honestly didn't mean to hurt her, he would never! Jack makes eye contact with Luke who is already glaring at him. Yeah, he felt really guilty. 
Jim was not expecting this sight when he walked into the living room after he got home from work. It was oddly quiet in the house, and that was rare.  His four children were sitting side by side on the couch, Luke sat at the end of the couch with his arms crossed and a glare on his face. Sitting to his left was Stella, she was now in a new dress and her chin and lip was decorated with her favorite hello kitty band aids. 
On Stella's other side was Quinn who was holding her hand as she rested her head on his shoulder. Then there was Jack who sat on the other side of Quinn, his arms were crossed as well as he angrily looked down at his socks. Jack, who looked up once his dad walked into the living room could be seen with a pink hello kitty band aid on his chin. 
“What's going on here?” Jim asked his wife and children, moving to stand by his wife's side. Ellen was standing in front of their children, just finished questioning their kids about what had occurred outside. Ellen greeted her husband with a smile and crossed her arms as she looked back at her kids “Why don't you guys tell your father what happened, hmm.” 
None of the kids spoke up, Quinn sat there as still as a statue as Stella snuggled closer to him and hid her face in his shoulder. Luke kept on giving Jack the side eye with a glare on his face and Jack refused to look up from his dinosaur patterned sock covered feet. Ellen sighed and tilted her head to look at her husband, telling him what had happened between their children. 
“Luke, why did you hit your brother?” Jim questioned his youngest son, crossing his arms as well. It wasn't like Luke to start fights with his siblings, especially physical ones. Jack rolled his eyes while Quinn turned his head to look at his youngest brother, curious on what he was going to say. Luke sent jack an accusatory glare before looking up at his parents “He made stella cry and break her doll.” 
Jack's jaw and fists clench as he listens to Luke retell the story of him hitting Stella with his stick, he felt tears of anger form in his eyes the more Luke talked. Jack couldn't hold it in anymore, he jumped to his feet and shouted out emotionally “It was an accident” Jack continued to speak loudly as fresh tears rolled down his face, his fists clenched at his side “I didn't mean to hurt you stella! I’m really sorry, and I’m sorry i broke your doll ⸺ I’ll sell all my toys and get you a new one!” 
Luke and Quinn’s eyes widened at their brother's outburst, and Luke started to feel guilty as he watched his older brother break down. Ellen moved to step towards Jack so she could comfort her son, her heart hurting at the sight of him crying so hard. But before Ellen could reach out to pull Jack into her arms, someone beat her to it. 
The rest of the family watched as Stella tried her best to wrap her arms around Jack's waist, resting her chin on Jack's chest and looking up at him with her brown doe eyes. Jack was quick to hug her back tightly as she spoke in her soft voice “It’s okay jacky i know you didn't mean to, please don't cry.” 
Quinn nudged Luke's shoulder causing the youngest brother to give him an annoyed look. Quinn mouthed at Luke to apologize to Jack, Luke huffed before he got off the couch and moved over to his brother and sister, Quinn rolling his eyes at Luke's dramatics. Luke lets out a loud groan and opens his mouth to complain when Jack pulls him into joining their hug but closes his mouth at the look Stella gave him before she turned her head to Quinn, her eyes begging him to join their group hug. 
Quinn shakes his head no, but he lets out a defeated sigh and stands up once Stella pulls out her signature move of her puppy dog eyes and quivering lip. Stella smiles triumphantly and pulls her eldest brother into the hug, smiling happily at the feeling of her and Jack being smushed into the middle of the hug. 
“So, you and Luke don't hate me?” Jack asks but it comes out muffled since his face was being smushed into Quinn's chest. Stella giggles and luke shakes his head, luke mumbles “I don't hate you jack, but you said to beat up anyone who makes stell cry” Stella moves her head from luke’s chest and gives jack a toothy smile “I don't hate you jacky, but you have to get me a new dress too!” 
Ellen smiles and leans against her husband's side, the parents watching as their kids continue to hug and listen as Stella excitedly talks about the new pink dress she wanted. Ellen kisses Jim’s cheek and whispers “C’mon let's go finish up dinner” the parents leave the living room, but none of the kids notice, they were too caught up in their new conversation. 
Jim and Ellen finished making the family their dinner as they listened to their children talk and laugh from the living room, grateful to be raising such good children.
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I LOVE THEM SM, please tell my what you like the most? )
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