#AND WHY IS NO ONE MENTIONING ERICA | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angelfrombeneth · 10 months ago

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MESSY - M . RIDDLE

Mature and Possibly Triggering Content Ahead

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Summary: You and your bestfriend of 13 years have a bit of a spat, that turns into her being a shit friend. So you also return the favour.

Warnings: SMUT, Implied Cheating, Slight mention of violence, Your bestfriend is a shitty friend, You do something shitty, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Not been proofread - expect slightly grammar errors.

A/N: Thought I'd switch it up with Theo and do a Mattheo short. This is just a random draft. It's not one of my best works but I wanted to put something out cuz it had been a while. I've been super busy w my studies so I haven't had time to finish my other fics or any asks. So please accept this for now 🫶

"Hey Erica!" You smiled as you skipped up to your friend. Erica had been your best friend for 13 years. Your mother's were best friends before your mum passed, you grew up together and stuck by eachother no matter what. Even when you both got sorted into two different houses; she got Slytherin and you got Hufflepuff. Despite all odds, you both at in 6th year still going strong.

Erica turned to look at you, her eyebrow quirked. "What?"

You stood before her, confused with her attitude. "I thought we could go hangout in the pavilion together?"

She turned to her group of Slytherin friends and snickered slightly, bidding them goodbye before looking at you. "Sure, Where's Cedric?" You looked at her weirdly while you both walked towards the pavilion.

"I'm not sure, why'd you ask?"

"No reason, just suprised your both always at eachothers hip, it's weird he's not"

"Your right.. I should ask him-"

"No!" She cut you off. "Its ok, ill ask him for you, maybe he won't tell you the real reason"

"Thanks Erica" You smiled. The pair of you sat in the pavilion and gossiped about many different things.

You spotted Pansy across the pavilion waving you over to her and her friends. "Hey, I'm going to see Pansy, ill see you later?" You stand.

"Her? You're friends with her" Erica scoffed, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Whats wrong with Pansy?"

"Everything, she's just a fucking whore. All those guys she's friends with she probably sleeps with them all she's a wh-"

"Erica stop it. I don't know what your deal is... Pansy is nice to me ok? Just drop it" You looked at her weirdly from her behaviour.

"Your right, I'm sorry. I'll go speak to Cedric now for you" She smiled before rushing off.

You shrugged it off and walked over to Pansy smiling.

"Y/N!" She cheered as you sat down next to her. "We were just talking about how cute you and Cedric are, 3 months now right?" Pansy smiled at you.

"Yeah, it's going great, im really happy actually"

"Thats so good, Although we always thought you'd end up with a Slytherin boy" Astoria snickered.

"Really? Who, I don't even really talk to many of the guys" You quirked.

"Probably Theo, he's the gentleman out of them all, the best choice other than my Blaise" Daphne smiled.

You smiled at her, Her and Blaise had been together since 2nd year. They were like the powerhouse couple of Hogwarts, perfect in every way.

"Pans, did you and Erica have an argument she seems to have a strong.. hatred for you" You looked to the girl beside you.

Pansy looked up at Daphne and Astoria and laughed slightly before taking your hand. "I never did anything to her, she's just jealous I'm friends with the guys. She keeps implying I'm 'fucking them all' but I'm literally gay" Pansy snickered.

"Thats literally what I thought, I thought everyone knew?"

"Everyone does, Erica is just fucking stupid" Tori scoffed, crossing her legs over eachother.

"Tori-" Daphne glared to her.

"Besides its because her and Mattheo have this thing or whatever, and me and him are close" She shrugged.

"Mattheo? As in Mattheo Riddle?" You raised your eyebrow.

"Yeah- Why?" They all looked at you weirdly.

"Isn't his dad like.. You-know-who?" You whispered.

They all laughed at you softly. Pansy patting you on the back.

"You're so sweet and innocent" Astoria cooed.

A loud bell chimed around the whole castle you all stood up.

"Fuck, I have potions" Astoria groaned.

"You'll live" Daphne laughed at her.

"See you around Y/N!" She smiled to you as you all parted ways.

You sighed as you walked into the castle.

Over the next few weeks you hung out more with Pansy, Daphne and Astoria. Everytime you'd hang out with Erica she'd ice you out or something. You also notice Cedric just get more and more bored with your presence which just didn't make you feel any better. You had wondered what Erica and Mattheo were considering she never once mentioned him to you. At all.

You sighed, as you stared down at your tea leaves, poking at them with your wand.

You felt a gush of wind beside you as someone sat in the always vacant seat.

"I know this seat isn't taken, so I will be sitting here" You heard. You looked up to see Mattheo, smiling down at you.

"I take notice when my favourite girls start hanging out with another person, which means you must be a goodie" He smiled at you. "Y/N, right?"

You nodded smiling. "I didn't realise you all were so close"

"We are like a second family, since our actual ones are pretty shitty" He snickered.

Over the following weeks you had grown close to all the Slytherins, hanging our with them all. Occasionally Cedric would come over but he wasn't that interested which just irked you. He had apologised for his lack of presence that made you feel a bit better.

You and Mattheo had become quite close, to him he was quite fond of you. Found you very cute. Erica didn't like your friendship with Mattheo all of a sudden and this was the brunt of most of your arguments. You always apologised then backed away from the group for a day or so, but it was just like a forever cycle.

You had discovered, Mattheo and Erica were dating but you were confused as to why she hadn't told you but you didn't want to take it to heart, there must've been a reason.

After class, you walked down the halls, students rushing quickly to make it to their next class, as you walked down towards the Hufflepuff entrance you noticed all the Slytherin boys all hanging in the kitchen.

"Feeding time at the zoo again?" You snickered. The boys all turned staring at you like deers caught in headlights. This wasn't the first time you'd come across them in the kitchen. You had grown close with the Slytherin boys recently, but you had grown to know them more for you sort exchanges everytime you see them feasting away.

"Fuck- Y/N you scared us. I thought you were a fucking teacher" Blaise sighed.

"Why are you guys always here on my free" You quirked your brow.

"We just wanna see you so bad!" Enzo whined as you chuckled.

"Where you off to in a rush anyway" Draco licked his finger from the pie covering it.

"M' meeting Cedric in the common room. I'll see you guys later" You smiled to them before walking a bit away from the kitchen and entering the Hufflepuff commonroom.

If you could go back to 2 minutes ago when you were laughing at the boys stuffing their face with pie. You would.

As you rounded the corner towards the opening of the commonroom to froze, hearing giggles and.. moaning? What freak would fuck in the common room, you scoffed. What you didn't expect was who. You decided to just ignore the sounds and quickly pass up to Cedrics dorm when you caught a glimpse of an oh so familiar green gem clawclip thrown across the floor.

"Erica?" You raised your eyebrow as you stared at the couch.

You watched as Erica sat up, disheaved hair and messy makeup before the other person sat up to. That person being... Cedric.

"Cedric- Erica what the fuck??" You shouted at them both.

"Y/N- He threw himself at me, I swear. We were just talming and-" She gasped, standing up and changing herself.

"What No??- It's not what it looks like- She"

"SHUT UP!" you screamed. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to your stupid excuses. You didn't slip and fall into her Cedric be fucking for real" You scoffed at him, storming up to him and slapping him across the face. Your voice cracked as you yelled and turned on your heels and ran from the common room.

"Y/N WAIT!-" Cedric yelled.

As you rounded the last bend the last thing you heard- "Wellthat was easy, see you later Cedric" Erica cackled.

You thought she was your friend, best friend forever. She was a fucking liar. A disgusting whorey liar. You sobbed as you ran from the commonroom towards the stairs. You ran past the kitchen, the slytherin boys noticing you running. You didn't stop, you had to go to Pansy. You knew she had a free and she was in her dorm. So you ran there.

Third POV:

"Was that Y/N?" Enzo poked his head out of the kitchen confused by your rushed nature.

"She was crying- I hope she's OK.." Theo hit his lip slightly nervous for you.

"She's fine, probably stubbed her toe or something" Draco snickered.

Mattheo and the boys decided to ignore the fact Y/N ran past crying and it probably wasn't any of your issues. That was until he noticed two people sneak past the kitchen.

"Who was that?" Enzo questioned.

"No clue" Mattheo shrugged.

Your POV:

The next few days you spend sobbing and skipping classes. Astoria, Pansy and Daphne took turns looking after you as you wailed in their arms. Not only had your friend relationship fucked up. He cheated on you and with your 'best friend'.

When you told the girls they were pissed. You practically had to talk Astoria out of certain violent consequences. They stayed with you and comforted you for ages. The first few days were crucial.

You had recieved owls from Erica, explanation in her own fucked up words how the situation wasn't at all what she thought it was and how it was just a huge misunderstanding. You couldn't help but scoff at her bullshit.

Three weeks had passed since everything you left Pansys after a few days and stayed boarded up in your room for an additional 2 weeks. No one came in and no one came out. The girls were concerned for you but understood you needed time.

News travelled that you and Cedric broke up but nothing about Erica being a home wrecker. When you finally left your pit after nearly 4 weeks you had seen significant changes. You were quite pale due to lack of sun and nutrients - you didn't look sick you just looked tired. People noticed and just felt.. bad for you. What really set you over the edge is in these 4 weeks not only had Erica homewrecked your relationship- she had clung to the people you had become to get comfortable with.

This was the second time Erica had done this to you. In 3rd Year you had started dated Adrian Pucey when she swooped in and was making out with him. She had told you he threw himself at her and she was so sorry she didn't mean to hurt you and you fucking believed her. Now this was just proof she was a bitch and she expected you to just forgive her which is what you'd do, but you had to come up with a plan.

You walked down towards the Slytherin common room, and up towards Erica's dorm. Erica only had one other dormmate but she was in the hospital wing currently due to a mishap in potions.

You knocked on the door and the door swung open to reveal Erica. A sickening smile spread across her lips as she let you in.

"Oh Y/N- I'm so glad your here. I need to explain everything to you" She wore a fake pout as she hugged you before pulling away.

She was rushing around her room fixing her hair and doing her makeup as she spoke to you. You sat on her bed.

"I was talking to Cedric, about what I said when he threatened me. He was saying about how he'd hurt you and how he'd do horrible things to you if I didn't sleep with him Y/N"

Really. Does she really think you'd believe this. You had to try your best not to laugh.

"Erica that is so horrible- I know you didn't mean to- You'd never do anything to hurt me" You smiled.

"Exactly!" She turned to look at you smiling. "He was a terrible boyfriend Y/N you can do so much better- Look stay here. I'll be back, I have to go see Mattheo in the hospital wing but I'll be back soon. Then we can have a girlie night" She smiled again. That fame smile was irking you.

"Of course" You smiled as she rushed out of the door leaving you. How stupid was she to think you'd believe her bullshit lies. You peered around the room, groaning. Why did she get to keep a boyfriend after all of this.

Speak of the devil, the door swung open to reveal Mattheo, leaning against the door frame as he quizzically looked at you.

"Y/N? Where'd Erica?" He asked.

"Mattheo? She said she went to the hospital wing for you-"

Mattheo rolled his eyes scoffing. "I came here to break up with that cheating slut and she's gone to cheat. How ironic" He laughed, venom lacing his tone. "I know your friends but seriously you can do b-"

"Actually we aren't friends" You cut him off. "I was here to listen to her bullshit excuses on why she fucked my boyfriend" You scoffed.

"Cedric too?" Mattheo scoffed. "I don't get it, I was actually a good boyfriend to her, for once I wasn't the asshole" He laughed mockingly.

Mattheo sat next to you on Erica's bed as the pair of you sighed. It was quite for a moment before you spoke.

"Maybe she needs a taste of her own medicine.." You peered to Mattheo, who was now smirking.

"A dark streak for a little hufflepuff like you? Do go on" He bit his lip as he stared down at you. Now you look at it, Mattheo was twice the size of you.

"Maybe we could.. you know" You looked down.

"I'm a changed man Y/N- but fuck, my old ways would always come back for you" He smirked, referring to his last two years of THE player and heartbreaker of Hogwarts.

Before you could reply you heard a soft chuckle before Mattheo's hands are instantly all over you. He kisses you softly but needingly. The way his lips move against yours as his hands grab at the plush of your thigh.

You could almost laugh at his neediness but it turned you on even more. You climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer, needing more. Your tongues dancing upon eachother as you grinded down against his growing bulge. The softly moans he'd release into your mouth were enough to have you moaning.

You broke away shortly as the pair of you quickly stripped down to your underwear. You stood up, throwing your jumper and shirt off as you shimmied out of your skirt. Mattheo kicked off his trousers, throwing his jumper and shirt across the room just in time to catch you as he jumped onto him again. A light chuckle leaving his mouth as the pair of you sat pratically skin to skin.

"God you are so fucking hot" He smirked, biting his lip as you sat back down on his lap, as he sat at the end of the bed.

He watched as you, pulled your panties off, dropping them beside the end of the bed as you yanked at his boxers. Smirking as his cock sprung out and hit his stomach.

"So big, and you were all hers?" You smirked, pecking his lips softly as you pulled yourself closer, instantly sinking down on his length as you yelped at the size. His grip, harsh on you as his fingers dug into your hips,his eyes slightly rolling at the sensation.

"Fuck-" You sighed out as you wiggled down on him, reaching back to unclasp your bra and tossing it aside, before pulling him closer and smashing your lips onto his yet against as you grinded down against him.

You gasped, as he gripped your waist, thrusting up into you as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Dont be a bitch Y/N" He smirked against your mouth as your tongues tied to one another as your hands roamed all over. His hands reached to your ass, squeezing, gripping and slapping the flesh as much as he could as your hips buckled against his, his cock burying itself deeper inside of you.

"mm.. J-just like that" You sighed, reading your head against his shoulder as you rocked your hips back and forth against his, sighing at the sensation.

He couldn't handle it much longer as he threw you down against the bed, giving you time to get on all fours as he kicked off his boxers as he gripped your hips and began to piston into you. Your back arched as you gripped the sheets, your teeth sunk into the duvet as you whined into the cotton. You could practically hear his filthy smirk as you whined. His hands aggressively gripping at your love handles as he bounced against you, pulling you back harshly with each thrusted rebound. The way your skin slapped loudly against his as it collided. The way your ass, bounced against his thrusts sent him over the edge.

With each thrust, his hand would grasp at the flesh of your ass, squeezing it or slapping it as you whined down into the mattress. A filthy smirk spread across his face.

"Oh fuck!-" You gasped as you whined, eyes rolling back slightly as you gripped at the sheets.

"Good girl- Good fucking girl.. Taking it so well" He growled from behind. His voice just made you even wetter, the whole situation had your stomach in knots.

He continued on your ass as you gasped for air, his hand yanking at your hair, collecting it into a messy ponytail as he yanked you up and back against his chest. His free arm snaked around your waist, pushed down against your lower stomach, intensifying each thrust as you could feel the pressure of his arm. You whined out loudly, gasping at the sensation as he took the chance to let go of your hair and wrap a hand around your neck.

You gazed to the side to look at Mattheo, as he smirked, before kissing you roughly. His tongue instantly sliding into your mouth as you sighed into the kiss. Toying with his tongue as his cock made at home inside your walls. The way he thrusted in and out like he owned it had you on the edge.

You broke away momentary, gasping for air as he pulled away completely. The emptiness between your legs prominent as you whined, falling forward but catching yourself, moving to lay on your back against the bed, looking up at him.

"Miss me already" He laughed, sweat dripping down his body as he stared at you smirking, as he climbed ontop of you, kissing down your neck, sucking softly at the skin.

"Fuck- How can I not, when you look like that" You chuckled, running your hands up and down his naked body. You couldn't help but let your hand linger over his stomach, as your fingers dipped between the crevasses of his chiselled chest.

"You're bad, fucking your bestfriends boyfriend" He smirked, biting his lip as he hovered over the top of you, his hand pumping his cock as he stared down at you.

"She did it first, I'm just returning the favour" You smirked, pulling his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. You could feel Mattheo smirked against you as he lined up yet against to thrusts into you. His forehead against yours as he smirked down at you.

"You are so cute, shame it took this to see your dark side" He laughed as his thumb caressed your cheek softly, pecking your lips as he slowly slid back into you. You gasped, arching your back, as your chest pressed up against his as your body shook below him.

"God, I fucking love how you just melt at my fucking touch. So slutty" He laughed lowly in your ear, as he nibbled on the shell of it before biting at your shoulder and sucking on it as he began to thrust.

As he began the thrust at first they were soft, his lips peppering kisses all down your neck and collarbone as you whined softly under his touch. You watched as he licked the bruises that had formed across your skin as he smirked down at you. His smirk was sickening. Sickeningly sweet.

His cock sunk in and out of you like it was moulded for you. The way you whined and moaned into his ear had him harder than ever. He was obsessed with you and the pretty little sounds you made.

As he fucked you, he tossed your leg over his shoulder as he continued to fuck you at such an animalistic pace you were unsure if you'd make out of this in one piece. Your stomach, knotted at the pleasure. You hummed and whined as his cock thrashed in and out of you as he whined.

His lips capturing yours once against for a kiss, yet this time deeper. His lips moved so sensually against yours, as he kissed you with such passion. His hand, clasped around your neck as his tongue slid in and out of your mouth as the pair of you hummed. It was like time stopped and it was just you. You had never been fucked this good before, but thanks to Mattheo you now had.

You continued to whined with each thrust, gasping as you gripped at his hair, tugging on it. Mattheo's slight chuckles at every whine that left your mouth sent you spiraling.

As he kissed your deeper and fucked you harder you heard as scream, causing you both to pull away from the kiss. But that didn't stop Mattheo from railing the fuck out of you still. The pair of you looked over his shoulder to see Erica stood in the doorway. On urge you went to pull away from Mattheo in embarrassment but he held you down, smirking back at you as he sped up causing you to arch your back, screaming.

"Mhm- Fuck.. Your dick is so perfect" You whined as your gaze slightly lingering on Erica as the pair of you made eyecontact before you arched your back, leaning back and gripping the headboard. as he fucked you into the mattress. Your body recoiling against the thrusts as the bed creaked and shook.

The two of you edging closer to your high before you both case against one another. You pulled him closer as you kissed him deeply. Moaning softly into his mouth as you creamed his cock. Sighing softly as your body slowly loosened up.

Mattheo pulled away, smirking as he licked his lips. The pair of you had forget Erica was in the room and could more than happy stay like this until you heard a shrill shriek. "WHAT THE FUCK!" She yelled.

The pair of you untied from one another as you sighed, standing up and pulling your clothes back on, as Erica stood in shock at the two of you.

As you buttoned your shirt, you threw your jumper of your shoulders as you grabbed your heels before walking around Erica. "Just returning the favour" You smiled at her wholeheartedly. "Have fun cleaning" You turned to Mattheo before you left, shooting him a wink as he still led against the bed, bare naked.

"You- WHAT??" You could hear the cogs turning in Erica's head as you felt the scene before hearing crashing and screaming. Now she knows how you felt I guess, and well.

She deserved it.

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

#harrypotter fanfiction #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin fanfiction #benjamin wadsworth #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo x y/n #angelfrombenethfics

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scorpioracers · 4 months ago

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Steve mentioning in passing that he has a tattoo. And before Eddie can ask the important questions (where, when, why, what, can i see it??) the moment is gone. his brain was offline for too long at the thought of an inked up Steve Harrington he missed his chance.

But he can’t stop thinking about it. He’s always looking at Steve anyway (because how could he not) but now it’s ramped up 1000%. Any inch of skin on display and Eddie is zeroed in, looking for what he doesn’t know, but he needs to see it.

He’s being soooo obvious but he can’t help it.

He offers Erica ten bucks to push Steve in his pool to try and get Steve’s shirt off. “What am I eight? No. It will cost ten bucks for me to not tell him though..” She takes the money with a look he’s seen many times during DND night. Like she understands why he ended up a super-senior. She tells him she should have asked Mike.

Mike does it for free. But all that leads to is Robin hip-checking Mike in to the water, then Dustin and Lucas push Robin in and go in after her, and for some reason Argylle picks Eddie up and they end up in the pool too. He doesn’t get to see the tattoo and he reeks of chlorine for days.

Anyway in the ends Steve gets tired of waiting and one night when they’re both halfway to high he swings his legs over Eddie’s and takes his shirt off, grabs Eddie’s hand and places it on the little tattoo placed under his pec on his rib cage.

#i know what the tattoo is but it’s a secret #not really one like and i’ll write it #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson

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sundrop-writes · 2 months ago

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Why Am I The One?

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader

I’ll hold you like I used to - you know that I am home.

So darling if you love me... would you let me know?

Or go on, go on, go on - if you were thinking that the worst is yet to come.

Why am I the one always packing up my stuff?

For once, for once, for once, I get the feeling that I’m right where I belong.

Why Am I The One always packing up my stuff?

Summary:

Isaac loves you. He loves you more than anything else in the world - which is exactly why he has stayed away from you for so long.

But when Derek kicks him out onto the street in the pouring rain with absolutely no warning and no reasoning as to why, Isaac has nowhere else to go. He could claim that he sought you out because you're close by, because he knows that you won't turn him away in his time of need - but deep down, it's because he misses you. And staying away from you for so long is the hardest, stupidest thing he has ever done.

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Smut and Emotional Angst. Set during Season 3, Episode 4.

Word Count: 15,200

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this fic is equal parts smut and emotional angst/plot; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; this fic DOES use Y/N; there is no description of the reader's race but the reader is implied to be plus-sized (I can't help myself lmao); the reader is completely human (doesn't have any supernatural powers); this is based on the part in 3x04 where Derek kicks Issac out of the apartment (without telling him that it's to protect him) and leaves Isaac with no place to go - and in this version, instead of going to Scott, he goes to the reader's place (and in this case, she is his ex-girlfriend); mentions of the reader's mother being killed by 'a monster' (Peter Hale in his Alpha form); mentions of the abuse Isaac experienced from his father (non-detailed); Isaac being emotionally constipated/being unwilling to accept help/love/affection as a trauma response because of the abuse he experienced; Isaac emotionally bashing himself due to his trauma; cheating - Isaac 'cheated' on the reader with Erica and there is a depiction of that (them kissing, and later in the fic it mentions and glosses over some of their sexual experiences together) (Erica x Isaac is very much a background element); light Erica bashing from the reader - but a lot of this is written from Isaac's perspective, who is favourable to Erica, so I think it balances out (and I didn't want the narrative to pit the girls against each other because I hate that); Isaac verbally insults the reader during an argument and shoves her (not hard enough to harm or injure her, just to get her out of his personal space); Isaac wears the reader's clothes - so this implies that she is a size where she can comfortably share her pajamas and loungewear with him (I didn't mention if those clothes would be too big on him, just that he does fit into them); some Derek bashing - just because of the optics of what happened to Isaac and the reader not knowing Derek or his motives; mentions of Erica's canon death; for the smut - this is not the first time Isaac and the reader have had sex with each other (this is reunion sex for them); Isaac is more dominant and the reader is more submissive; there is lots of verbal praise (from Isaac toward the reader); slight mentions of the reader feeling insecure about her weight (but this is chased away by Isaac's verbal praise and it's not a prominent theme); protected sex (for once in one of my fics) - they use a condom; penis in vagina sex; slightly dubious consent - the reader is reminded of Isaac's cheating during sex and moves to end it, and Isaac continues (but it's very messy and emotional and the physical pleasure makes the reader want to continue and drowns out any doubts) (it is a very 'humans are not perfect, we are messy creatures' situation); lots of dirty talk - Isaac doesn't miss the opportunity to wind reader up with his dirty mouth; the reader slaps Isaac while they are having sex - not as a kink, but because she is upset at him; the sex goes from very rough to sweet love making (once they 'make up' with each other); orgasm denial (once - toward the reader); Isaac uses his strength to pin the reader down and to hold her arms down (not really strength kink, and I don't know if I would consider it bondage? idk); I think that is all.

A/N: We all know I'm in love with Isaac. His wooby pull attracted me like earth's gravitational pull, and Derek kicking him out into the rain so suddenly is literally the perfect recipe for a fic - the sadness, the emotions, and Isaac wearing a soaking wet white shirt like a whore. How could I not write a fic about this moment? Also, you guys know that I have been vibing with Exes to Lovers a lot lately - I just fucking love the concept of 'right person, wrong time' - it eats so hard. So this fic was a no brainer to me. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This fic is named after a song by Fun of the same name, and I actually found out that the song was written about the singer's experiences in foster care - having to constantly move from place to place and and feeling like he never had a true sense of 'home' because of it. And I love how well it suits Isaac's experiences - the fact that just when he started to establish a new sense of 'home' and family with Boyd and Erica, they were torn away from him. So I really wanted to use it for this fic.

...

It was a lonely night.

But unfortunately, you had been experiencing a lot of those lately.

Since the start of the school year, most of your ‘friends’ had been ghosting you. And that was putting it kindly. It seemed like everyone else was in some group, in on something else, always busy with something more important and not telling you why.

You couldn’t think of anything you had said or done to offend them. And you knew that sometimes, people did just get busy, or drift apart. But you got the distinct vibe that they had been avoiding you intentionally for one reason or another - and you hated not knowing why.

Sure, life had been weird for you since some giant prowling beast had murdered your mother, leaving your entire life in limbo. Since you had been locked in the school at night and discovered that one of your best friends from childhood, Scott, had the ability to turn into a fucking werewolf. But you were a bit more at ease when he used that ability to save your life from said giant prowling beast.

You knew Scott would never hurt you. Which was why, only a few short weeks later, you used the much more human ability of an improvised hairspray flamethrower to save his life in return.

But after you had witnessed that terrifying, burly beast lit on fire, forcing it to turn human - and then have its throat slashed by someone you later came to know as Derek Hale, Scott assured you that everything was ‘over’. Strangely enough, you trusted his words. And you actually expected your life to go back to some sense of normalcy after that night.

Scott told you that he had mastered the ability to control himself on a full moon, and though there were others in town like him (no matter how much you nagged him, he wouldn’t tell you who), you didn’t have to worry about anyone else in your family being attacked. Not as long as he was around, he had assured you.

Well, you didn’t have to worry about losing the little family that you had left.

With your mother gone and your father never in your life in the first place, you now lived with your sister in a small apartment downtown. She was attending the local college and working part time as a bartender and you were trying to finish up your education at Beacon Hills, despite the growing body count - which Scott still refused to tell you about. Claimed he didn’t know anything about, but you could sense the lies coming off him because you had known him for so long.

You had a nagging feeling that him and Stiles knew far more about the recent wave of murders than they were letting on. And it had a whole lot to do with the reason why they were dodging all of your calls, texts, and any efforts that you made to hang out with them. Even Allison and Lydia weren’t returning your messages, and it was downright bothering you.

So you were spending another Friday night at home by yourself while your sister went out on a date, as lonely as you had ever been and unable to do anything about it. But still, you were trying your hardest to make the best of it - getting ready to curl up on the couch to watch Netflix in your pajamas. All your homework was done purely out of boredom, and you had a pile of junk food ready to go, a few horror movies queued up when-

A knock on the door. Of course.

It was either the creepy guy from down the hall who had ‘forgotten’ his key again, or your sister, who had forgotten one of several potential things.

You put your bowl of chips aside, paused on the intro screen of the movie and heaved a sigh as you shrugged off your cozy throw blanket and shoved on your slippers to cross the cold floor toward the door.

“Let me guess, you forgot your phone again?” You stated this loud enough for your sister to hear you through the door as you unhooked the safety chain and opened it, expecting her to come barreling in complaining about her poor memory.

You found yourself entirely shaken with shock to discover that it wasn’t at all who you were expecting.

“Isaac.” You breathed out the name in a gentle gasp, entirely in disbelief of him standing there.

He was soaking wet from the rain, his white tee shirt sticking to his body in a way that shouldn’t have been as sinful and eye-catching as it was - his back slouched and his eyes low to the ground, indicating how truly shameful he was to be here at your doorstep, needing your help. He was shivering slightly all over, potent enough to be seen, clearly freezing from the cold water that had penetrated through his clothes and soaked him to the bone.

He had walked through the pouring rain to get here - without a coat.

And he was carrying a large duffle bag?

Come to think of it, you had no clue where he had been staying since his father had died. But he had turned eighteen shortly before it happened (which was why they had been intent to charge him with murder when they thought he was responsible) - so he wouldn’t be a ward of the state just because he was an orphan. He had to be responsible for himself. Even if he wasn’t ready for that responsibility.

He had been so damn intent on dodging your calls and ignoring you in person, so it’s not like he was letting you offer your help anyway. A large part of the reason that you were so surprised to see him here now.

“What are you doing here?” You couldn’t help but to ask, hating the bitterness that popped up in your voice, entirely against your will.

You weren’t even sure if you were happy to see him. Not with the way things ended between the two of you. With the fact that he hadn’t even made an effort to apologize.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you were the only person I could think of-” His voice was curdled and pathetic, edging on tears and shaking from how cold he was.

“Of course.” You scoffed, a nearly automated response filled with resentment tapering over from months ago.

You hated that he came to you in a time of crisis, something so natural to him, just like he used to. But he couldn’t lean on you in comfort, he couldn’t take the good with the bad. Isaac could never tolerate goodness - that was something you had learned quickly with him.

But you knew that had to come with the territory - loving someone so broken and slipping on their sharp edges. You were bound to cut yourself every now and again. Isaac left you with more cuts than you could count, and you kept on coming back for more - because you loved him more than his bitterness. You loved him more than his thorns, more than the fight he put up when you tried to love him.

Isaac frowned and shook his head, turning to leave again, and your chest seized up with fear and pain. Instinctively, you reached out for him, just like you had so many times before, and you caught him by one of his wrists, digging your fingers in. His skin was freezing and it made you realize even more that he needed you. It was cold outside and he needed you for warmth, for shelter, and so much more that he couldn’t even begin to ask for.

“Isaac-” You choked out.

The touch caused him to look up into your eyes, and it was a deadly attack of icy blue through wet lashes - wet from the rain or from his tears, you couldn’t be sure. He looked every bit a kicked puppy, and you knew that you couldn’t turn him away. You couldn’t bring yourself to.

“I’m sorry.” You pressed, trying to make sure that he truly heard it and knew that you meant it. “Please don’t go. You should come in - you need to get warmed up. Isaac, please don’t think that I don’t care about you anymore. Please don’t think that I would turn you away,”

That was how things always went with him. You begging him to take the most basic of care and kindness, you begging him to open up and receive everything you had to offer him. You begging him to let himself be loved.

‘A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.’

It was something you had read once and could never get it out of your head every single time Isaac did this - every single time he ran from you trying to be kind to him. His father had ruined him in so many deeper ways than the marks left on his skin.

“You shouldn’t.” He said - responding to your words carefully, quietly.

But ultimately, he flexed to your touch and stepped inside, letting you close the door behind him, now dripping onto the welcome mat. He placed his bag down by his feet as you puzzled at his words. The confused look on your face caused him to further explain.

“You shouldn’t care about me anymore.”

You let out a sigh, retreating to the couch to grab the blanket you had just been covered up in. With your back turned to him, you used this as a quiet moment to squeak out a vulnerability, simply because you didn’t have to see his face when you said it.

“Look, Isaac, despite what happened - I still do.”

You whispered, unsure if he would hear you. You had no idea that with his enhanced werewolf hearing, he heard every single word crystal clear, including the overly emotional crack in your voice.

“No matter what happens… I don’t think that I’ll ever stop caring about you.”

Isaac held his breath at this.

Dammit.

…

You and Isaac had dated for two years before it all happened.

Two years ignorant ‘bliss’ before a giant monster - well, two different giant monsters actually - came barreling through town and supremely fucked up both of your lives. The one that killed your mother and the one that killed his father.

Before that, the two of you were happy together. Isaac’s life with his father was not exactly blissful. Far from it. But he escaped from the horrors of it when he was with you. He was planning a life after graduation when he could get away with you, be free of his father, and the two of you could live a happy, normal life together.

You were the love of Isaac’s life. He never loved anyone else like he loved you.

He would deny it - but there was no past tense on that. You are overwhelming still the love of Isaac’s life. The two of you had your first kiss together, you lost your virginities to each other, you were the first person that he ever said the big L to. You made him so impossibly happy.

You were the only person in the world who had helped him start on the impossible journey of healing from even a small portion of what his father had put him through. In a lifetime when he had felt abandoned, unloved, useless, abused - you made him feel loved. You made him feel like he was worth something as long as he was loving you.

When Derek Hale promised him a solution to all of his problems, Isaac didn’t believe it. Derek promised him freedom, power, family - things he never even dreamed of having. The only problem? In this new family, he couldn’t have you. Having all of this new power would put you at risk. There were new dangers - hunters, people who would try to hurt you. With this new power, Isaac might even hurt you himself, even if unintentionally.

Isaac wasn’t entirely sure why he agreed to it. Maybe because Derek made it sound so appealing. Maybe because he thought it was inevitable, just a matter of time before you found out that he was a poison seed and you stopped loving him, and he thought that he needed a backup plan for when that happened. Isaac thought he needed to stand on his own two legs without you. He didn’t need something as fading and immeasurable as love - he needed power. And Derek could give that to him.

So he accepted Derek’s Bite - and he transcended into something bigger, badder, and better. Something that would never be loved by you again.

The only problem was: you didn’t know that yet.

His father was dead, he had found a new pack - there was just one last severance from his old life that needed to be made. So he did it as cleanly as he could.

He broke your heart because it was something that needed to be done.

…

‘Meet me in the boys locker room at 4:45.’

It was a note in Issac’s handwriting - it had been slipped into your locker, clearly meant for some late afternoon rendezvous. At the very least, you were filled with joy at the prospect of getting to talk to your boyfriend alone.

He had been acting so strange lately. Which was more than understandable, considering that his father had been murdered and he had been arrested for it. You hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him since you had exonerated him with your sworn testimony that he had been at your place on the night of the murder. (And of course, the cops hadn’t believed you until you had tracked down the take-out delivery guy who had also sworn that he had seen Isaac in your apartment when dropping off food that night.)

You hadn’t gotten to spend any quality time with Isaac since then, so this felt like a breath of fresh air. You knew that lacrosse practice ended at 3:30, so the locker room would be empty - you wondered if Isaac just wanted to talk, wanted to walk you home, or something else entirely…

Your stomach was bubbling with butterflies as you held the note in your hands and you rounded the corner into the locker room, excited to greet Isaac with a hug and feel his arms around you for the first time in far too long.

You were surprised when you heard the sound of kissing.

You wondered if you had walked in on someone else’s afternoon rendezvous by mistake - if the locker room was otherwise occupied and Isaac knew it too. Perhaps he had sent you a text to meet him somewhere else. Before you could pull out your phone to check, your eyes glanced up through the metal mesh and of the cubbies, and you caught a glimpse of absolutely unmistakable pale skin and dirty blond hair.

A rough, muscled back with bright red scratch marks marring his skin.

“Isaac?!” You gasped, utterly shocked.

You charged further into the room, no longer caring if you were intruding on someone’s privacy - you needed to know. If this was just a terrible case of mistaken identity, then you would be embarrassed and profusely apologize.

Your heart dropped, becoming a cold rock in your stomach when surely enough, it was your boyfriend standing there - shirtless, his pants undone, his face and chest smudged with red lipstick while Erica Reyes was pinned up against one of the lockers. She was smugly grinning at you, wearing nothing but jeans and a bra, her hair a complete mess.

“Barge in, much?” Erica said, sounding more like a gloat than an accusation of your rudeness.

You didn’t have the energy to pay her any mind.

“Isaac, what the hell?” You screamed at him, sounding too pathetic to be angry, your voice already gripped by tears.

“Can you give us a minute?” He said this to Erica, seeming far too casual. She simply shrugged, picking up her discarded shirt, jacket, and heels before she turned to leave.

You clenched a shaking fist and simply gave her a glare. You knew that she had been on some kind of chaos streak lately, and Allison had mentioned that she had threatened to ‘steal’ Scott - something that more than left a sour taste in your mouth about a girl that you previously had a better opinion of. You didn’t think that she was cruel enough to actually go through with something like this. You used to think of her as a nice girl.

But the bulk of your anger was most definitely directed at your piece of shit, cheating boyfriend.

Isaac wiped the edge of his mouth with the back of his hand, not even getting off a small portion of the lipstick that was wildly smeared around his face. Then he moved to zip up his pants. You continued to gape at him in shock, a harsh, deep pain blooming in your chest as you waited for him to say something.

“Isaac, tell me this is a joke-” You choked out, looking for some anchor to hold onto, some explanation.

“A joke?” Isaac smiled, all teeth, the expression in his eyes downright dead. You found him impossible to read in those moments. “Y/N, the only joke here has been our relationship.”

“You - you gave me a note.” You said, holding up the small slip of paper - the one that previously had you so giddy with joy at the prospect of spending time with him. “You told me to meet you here, I thought-”

‘I thought you wanted to spend time with me. I thought you loved me.’

The words died off in your throat, clenching in on itself as the harsh waves of truth overtook you.

If he wanted to break up with you, making out with Erica in front of you, putting on some show - it was one nasty way to do it.

“Did I?” He asked, his tone sounding utterly sarcastic and mean, faking dumb in the absolutely worst way as he snatched the paper from you and pretended to look it over. “I guess I must have forgotten.” He shrugged. “When Erica came in here looking for me, I forgot all about you. Having her mouth all over me-”

“Stop it.” You barked, cutting him off.

Why was he being so cruel? Was he trying to make you angry on purpose? Why was he lying about forgetting that he had invited you here?

Obviously he wanted you to see him kissing Erica - why was he lying about it now?

“Why are you doing this?” You demanded, tears freely flowing down your face.

Isaac’s eyes drifted to your cheeks, his wicked smirk flexing into a frown of his own - only for a second, a deep sadness penetrating through the mask he had carefully crafted. What the hell did he have to be upset about? He crossed his arms over his still shirtless chest, glaring at you.

“Why is it so hard for you to understand?” He said, fighting to keep his voice firm. “I’m done with you. We’re over. Okay? I-”

“If you wanted to break up with me, you could have just done it.” You told him, sadness gripping at your throat. “Why the hell are you being so mean? Do you want me to hate you or something?”

‘Yes.’ A voice chanted in his mind. ‘Yes - fucking hate me. Stay the hell away from me. Keep yourself safe.’

He shrugged, his eyes avoiding you suddenly.

When he went for too long without speaking, an obvious question popped up in your mind.

“How - how long has this been going on for?” You asked.

You wondered if that was why he had been acting so strange lately - dodging your calls, avoiding any attempt you made to see him. Had he been spending that time with Erica instead?

“What? Me and Erica?” He posed, gesturing vaguely toward the door where she had disappeared.

He grinned. You had unintentionally given him the perfect wedge - the final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Something that would make sure you steered clear of him for a long time, something that would make sure you made absolutely no attempt to be ‘amicable’ or be friends with him after this break-up.

“A few weeks.” He shrugged. “Around the time I started getting bored with you.”

You let out a sob.

“You’re lying.” You wept. You wanted it to be a lie, but in those moments - you couldn’t have picked out the truth if someone smacked you with it.

“Did you ever consider that I never loved you in the first place?” Isaac posed, sounding oddly menacing and steady in his declaration. “That you were just a placeholder for me until I found something better?”

“No, that’s not true.” You cried, your voice becoming more wet with tears by the second. “Isaac, why are you lying? Is something wrong? Please-”

“You’re what’s wrong!” He argued, raising his tone, hoping to piss you off, make you flee. “You’re just a… a dumb girl, okay? You’re not the only one who wants me, there are dozens more like you! I don’t need you now, and I never did.”

You were used to pushing back with him. Pushing to get what you wanted. With the intense emotional chaos, you weren’t sure what else to do.

“Please, just tell me-”

You kept pushing, trying to get close to him - the moment your soothing hands crept into his space, he panicked and shoved you back, nearly knocking you clean off your feet with a strength he hadn’t yet learned how to control. The rush of terror and shock on your face was all he needed to remember why he was doing this - why it was important.

“We’re done here.” He told you, entirely cold. “I never loved you, I just used you, and-” He hesitated before he said the next part, hating that it had to be done. “I hope you find someone who deserves an ugly whore like you.”

It didn’t feel like the truth - but it still cut you like a knife.

It made you more determined to figure out why he was lying. But in those moments, you had absolutely no fight left in you. You couldn’t stand there and pry, and pry, and pry in order to figure it out. So, against your better judgment, with nothing else left to do - he got his wish.

You fled, tears ripe in your eyes.

And from there on out, any attempts you made to talk to Scott, Stiles, or Lydia about the incident were successfully dodged, and when Allison’s mother died, you didn’t feel right putting the weight of your shitty break-up on top of her problems. So eventually - you just gave up on finding out about the truth. And you settled on trying to become friends with Issac - which he also dodged.

And ultimately - you found yourself so achingly alone.

…

Eventually, you had let it go.

You chalked everything - all of Isaac’s weird behavior, his avoidance of you - up to the fact that he had been cheating on you. You hated that your first love had done something like that to you. It was only made worse by the fact that you didn’t have any of your friends to lean on after you found out about it, but you moved on. You ended up throwing yourself into your school work to try and distract yourself from all the intense emotions, so now your grades were soaring and you were an A student, so at least one good thing came out of the mess.

You tried not to focus on the bad memories now that Isaac was in front of you, clearly wounded and fleeing from something. Even if it was just as a friend, he needed your help now. You were still a human being, and you couldn’t deny him of that. He didn’t have any other family - he didn’t have anywhere else to go. So you grabbed the blanket - a large, fuzzy one that you had been using, and brought it across the room toward him.

Then, as you took in the sight of his soaking wet clothes once again, his slightly purpling lips and the way he was shivering from the cold, you realized something.

“Take your clothes off.” You told him.

“What?” He gaped at you, clearly shocked by this demand.

“Come on, clothes off.” You repeated your words. “You’re never gonna get warm if you’re wearing soaking wet, freezing clothes.” He hesitated still, and you added on. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

It was true. Not only did the two of you lose your virginities to each other, but the two of you had a very active sex life during your two year long relationship. (It was one of the reasons why his cheating shocked you most. You thought that you had been more than enough for him.) You had to remind yourself not to think about that. You wouldn’t let yourself get angry at him. Not now. You had to be mature.

Isaac nodded, and then kicked off his shoes, which were wet enough for the soles to loudly squish. You weren’t sure if you should advert your eyes as he peeled off his white shirt, the wet fabric sticking to his skin in a way that seemed far too sexual for the moment. It felt too intimate, letting yourself stare at his soft glistening skin, but you almost couldn’t look away.

Sure, you had seen Isaac naked plenty of times before - but this Isaac felt entirely different than the one you were used to. He used to be more scrawny. He used to be much more on the leaner side, and now he was muscled, thick, glorious. You had no clue that taking up some god-like workout plan had been one of the things he’d done during the time since his father’s death, but fuck - he looked gorgeous.

You scorned yourself for staring while he worked open his pants, his fingers still shaking from the cold, driving home his vulnerability all the more, driving a tinge of shame into you. And oh god, the fabric of his gray boxers were wet, sticking to the distinct outline of his thick soft cock-

By the time he got his pants off and around his ankles, you didn’t wait to see if he would shed the underwear before you moved towards him, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, partially for modesty and partially to start warming him up.

“Better?” You asked, rubbing his shoulders through the fabric instinctively, hoping to get some blood circulating through his extremities.

“Yeah, better.” He easily agreed, his voice coming out less shaky, his lips shivering less now. “Thank you, Y/N. Genuinely. You didn’t have to do any of this for me. I know you don’t owe me anything after-”

He abruptly cut himself off, unable to make himself say the words, and you hated the clench in your chest as you thought about it. He was right, you didn’t owe him anything. Anybody else would have slammed the door in his face. Anybody else would have laughed at his misfortune. So why the hell were you doing this?

You still loved him.

That became all the more apparent to you as you stood there, close to him, holding the broadness of his shoulders under your hands, remembering what it was like to hug him, to be held by him, to kiss him every single day. Staring at his angelic face, having those sweet blue eyes gaze back at you, something in them still so sweet and affectionate towards you.

He still looked at you the way he used to. Maybe you were delusional. But you thought it was still there. The love he claimed he never had for you, still lingering there.

It grappled at something deep in your chest and pulled, tempting you to lean in and sink home, pressing yourself against his lips.

But no - you couldn’t.

You had to shake yourself back to reality. You had to remind yourself what he had done. He had hurt you, badly. You couldn’t let yourself be pulled in again by a stupid pretty face.

“I should put your clothes in the dryer.” You said suddenly, breaking a tense silence that had otherwise only been filled by the sound of rain pouring down outside.

That’s what you needed to do - go to the laundry room downstairs, get far away from him. You needed more than a few minutes to distance yourself and clear your head.

You rushed to get away from him, leaning down and picking up his soaking wet clothes, the fabric chilly against your hands.

“Don’t.” Isaac croaked out, barely above a whisper, surprising you entirely.

You both knew that he wasn’t protesting having dry clothes - he was stopping you from leaving. He was trying to chase the tension that you were desperate to get away from.

You felt betrayed.

In your mind, you were the only one truly at risk of getting hurt by this. You had no idea how deeply he had missed you over the months, how many times he had resisted the urge to rush back into your arms. How many nights he spent plagued by nightmares with horrid visions of your dead body - how real it all was to him.

“Isaac-” You tried to form a protest, but then you saw a flourish of movement out of the corner of your eye, and a flash of pale skin.

It was enough to shock you and catch your attention, and your head whipped around to see that Isaac had dropped the blanket entirely, letting it pool around his ankles. Clearly, he knew that you had been admiring his body before and he was trying to use that to his advantage now. He knew that he was a smooth, beautiful, muscled, Adonis-like figure and he was trying to lure you in with that visual appeal.

You were determined not to let it work.

“Isaac, you must be freezing, you-”

You were going to continue on - going to tell him about how he needed dry clothes and how you should attend to getting that done, and how he should put the blanket on and cover up while you were gone. But he cut off your words when he crossed the room toward you, gently cupping both sides of your face with his freezing hands.

It was an icy shock that caused you to drop his wet clothes onto the floor once again. You reached up in an attempt to tear his touch away, but instinct took over - the second your hands were on top of his, your body flexed with gentleness. You found yourself leaning in, covering his hands with your own, unconsciously trying to warm him yet again.

Caring for him was a muscle that had been well formed in your body, exercised often. It was difficult to ignore now.

“Then warm me up.” He choked out, tears dancing in his eyes as he stared at you so steadily, unwavering. “Warm me up, please.”

He begged you, clearly seeking more than a blanket, more than dry clothes, more than a warm bed. He was seeking the warmth that you had thrust onto him so many times that he had fought off before - your kindness. Your love. The thing rattling around inside of you that you shouldn’t even feel for him anymore.

“Please,” He choked out. “I haven’t felt warm in so long.”

The desperation curling in his voice was truly what got you - the gloss of sadness in his eyes, the way he looked so kicked and alone. It was something you had seen from him dozens of times before, when he had knocked on your bedroom window at three in the morning after having a bad night with his father - bruised, broken, looking for comfort that you would have to fight with him to accept.

Everything else flew out of your mind then. It was an instinct - to hold him. It was an instinct to grab him up in your arms and make a home for him there. Your heart so easily forgot about all the pain he had made for you, because you were so used to pushing pain aside for him in the name of comfort.

“Isaac,” You said his name gently again, this time reaching up and letting yourself give into the pull - your mouth drifting toward his and finally sealing into that deadly kiss.

You couldn’t contain the moan that spilled out of you the second that you felt the smoothness of his lips against yours for the first time in so long. You hated how he still felt so good - how he still felt like home.

His arms rushed to wrap around your torso in the most utterly possessive way - not just a hug, not just seeking comfort, affection, or warmth - but holding you in a way that said he had truly missed you. Holding you as tightly as he could, pressing your whole body against his, encasing himself around you as though trying to protect you from the world with his flesh alone. Your hands went to his hair, rabid and frantic as you tightly gripped onto the curly locks - holding him in place as you melted your mouth against his, your kisses quickly turning from smooth and sweet to downright frantic.

You never thought that you would have this back again, that you would have him back, and you couldn’t help but to enjoy it now. The press of his body against yours, so thick and muscled now, quickly warming up, so different but still so Isaac. The gentle whimpers he released into your mouth, something so familiar - his sweetness coming through, as much as you tried to deny it. Within moments, it unlocked an intense need within you. It made you realize how terribly long it had been since the last time you had cum.

If he was determined for you to make him warm, then you would get something out of it too. If you were going to make a stupid mistake, then you were going to make it right. (Or make it terribly wrong - you weren’t sure which it was yet.)

You pulled away from his lips and he let out a disappointed whine, and while you panted, out of breath against his chin, you began pushing him, shuffling back toward your bedroom, hoping he would get the hint and understand. Which he didn’t, his whole body numb and dumb with lust, still tightly holding onto you, almost fighting against your movements.

“Bed.” You huffed at him. “Bed, Isaac, go-”

He let out a grunt of understanding, but then he moved a hand to the back of your head, pulling you into another kiss. You dug your nails into his shoulders, about to push him away, but you unconsciously melted into the movement, letting out another moan. Between the two of you, the path to your bedroom was stumbling and messy, and took far longer than it needed to be - heated mouths tonguing against each other, neither of you actually looking as you got lost in the kisses, frantically pawing at each other.

When his hand found the hem of your cotton sleep shirt, part of you blinked in protest, slightly hesitant. But still, you found yourself pulling away from his lips for a single moment and then the item was gone, shed and ditched on the floor. This revealed you completely to him, braless.

Of course, he had seen you naked before too. Plenty of times. But still, you felt a stitch of regret that you hadn’t used the time since the break-up to get some kind of ‘revenge body’. You hadn’t been religiously hitting the gym as apparently he had been. Instead, you had been obsessively hitting the books and spending nights alone with junk food, and-

“God, you are so much more beautiful than I remembered.” He breathed out, the words so utterly passionate and sacred on his lips.

Your stomach clenched at this. You felt yourself being involuntarily swallowed up by your affection for him again. Drowning in a love for him that you had long since locked away deep somewhere, trying to smother it out until it died. Apparently you had been unsuccessful in that.

Isaac only made it worse when he dove in for another kiss, smothering your lips with heat again as he ran his hands, now much warmer, over your body - up your stomach, gently tracing the stretch marks there as though he appreciated each one. His hands coming to cup your breasts and oh-so-lightly flicking at your nipples, teasing them as he tongued along your teeth.

You could barely handle it - the gentle treatment, the way it made your pussy flutter and leak wetness into your panties. You knew all too soon, you would be entirely weak to him. If you weren’t careful, you would let him do anything he wanted to you.

You continued to back him up, your hand going to the doorknob of your bedroom and finally, successfully pushing him inside. You pushed him back until his knees met the bed and then you brought two hands to his chest, shoving him out of the kiss and tossing him back onto the bed - this caused him to make a startled noise as he fell back onto your neatly made covers and collection of fluffy pillows.

And then, he looked up at you with an utterly cocky smirk - strangely, one that only made you want to fuck him even more.

“Come on, c’mere-” He encouraged you, full of breath, holding out his hands to you.

You felt a rush of lust-fueled bravery and you tucked your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and underwear all at once, shoving them down over your hips, pushing out any last bits of insecurity that you felt.

You waited for Isaac to follow your lead and strip out of his last remaining bit of clothing. Instead, he sat there, sprawled out on the bed, leaning on his elbows, looking at you in the low lighting (the streetlamps coming in through the window with the sound of rain still pouring, pounding against the glass) - his jaw dropped and his eyes wide, looking at you with a unique kind of awe that you hadn’t seen on his face before. Not even the first time he had seen you naked and he had given you that ‘teenage boy seeing tits for the first time’ look.

It was like he was well and truly seeing you for the first time - like the distance had made him appreciate you so much more. It made you feel so much more naked, and gave you the urge to cover yourself.

Just as you were about to, he spoke again.

“You are so utterly gorgeous.” He told you, his voice full of that epic passion that made your insides quake. “So fucking perfect. Fuck.”

“Isaac-” You squeaked out his name, entirely unsure of what else to say.

He pushed himself up, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you forward until you stumbled and tripped, landing on the bed between his thighs. You let out a breathy gasp as he began kissing down your neck - smoothly, softly, seemingly intent to appreciate you now that he had you here. It brought more of those dangerously warm feelings washing up - it made you feel soft and sappy inside, made you miss the days when you called Isaac your boyfriend. Days when the two of you used to lay on the couch together and cuddle, when you held hands in the hallways, when you would tell each other everything.

It was a dangerous feeling to have now.

One of his hands pulled on your thigh and you understood his unconscious wish - moving your legs to straddle around his waist as he began sucking a spot on the base of your neck, a tender bit of skin he knew was a weakness he could exploit. This sent warm waves of pleasure through you while he squeezed both hands across your ass, bringing you to sit down fully on his still clothed crotch. It sent a shockwave through you - feeling his hard, clothed cock pressing right up against your hot, naked pussy - it made you intensely needy, caused you to unconsciously grind down on him and let out a high, needy moan.

“Isaac, please,”

You knew that you were hovering in a dangerous place. All of this was settling you back into familiarity - if you weren’t careful, you would set yourself up for hurt all over again. You were letting him pry you open, inviting him to tear through your heart all over again, and then - what would be left for you?

No - you needed mindless sex. You needed to fuck him, for closure. And then you needed to put him out of your life completely.

You leaned over to the nightstand, unlatching him from your neck in the process. You tried your hardest to ignore the sweet kisses he peppered along your shoulder as you dug through the drawer for a condom, checking to make sure it wasn’t expired (because woefully, he had been the last person you had used this pack with) before you came back with it in hand.

When Isaac saw you bring it to your teeth with the clear intentions of ripping it open, it began to protest.

“Woah, Y/N, wait-” He rushed out the words, and you glared at him.

“‘Wait’, what? I thought this is what you wanted.”

The words came off your tongue much crueler than you intended - a result of you being harshly at odds with yourself. You were trying desperately not to stumble back into being that foolish girl who loved him too much. Trying to get over your feelings for him, to prove to yourself that you could be as emotionally detached as he was on that day.

He swallowed thickly, looking at you with those godforsaken puppy eyes. Those eyes that had drawn you in so many times before.

“I just-”

‘I wanted to kiss over every inch of your body. I wanted it to be slow. I wanted to make love to you. I wanted to prove to you how much I missed you, how huge of a mistake I made.’

“Nothing.” Isaac choked out - and then, surprisingly, he snatched the condom from you.

In one smooth move, he captured your mouth with his again, wrapping his arms around your back and flipping you so that you were underneath him. It was a strong, powerful move that had you whimpering into his mouth, feeling utterly pathetic in his shadow as your cunt leaked more needy wetness against his boxers. You hated that you unconsciously leaned into his touches, desperate for more.

When he pulled away from the kiss, you looked on breathlessly as he shoved down his underwear and kicked them off, causing his impressive cock to spring free and smack against his stomach. Something you stared at like a beacon, your pussy clenching hungrily around nothing while he tore open the condom and rolled it on.

He then took the base of his cock in hand, putting the other hand on the bed beside you to prop himself up while he teased the tip of his cock along your folds, parting your pussy as he teased inside - lightly bumping your clit in a way that drove you insane.

“Ready?” He asked, his voice breathy and full of need, something you had so dearly missed hearing from him.

“Hurry up,” You egged him on, partly due to impatience from the teasing, wound up by the nagging feeling of the thick cockhead prodding against your throbbing cunt - and partly because you were eager to get this over with. You were eager to prove to yourself that you could do this and feel nothing inside. That ultimately, you were over him.

He grinned, all teeth, almost evil, and he let out a sharp breath. Then, finally, pushed forward, shoving his cock inside of you all at once - one smooth push that had his hips shoving right up against yours, his coarse pubic hairs brushing against the sensitive, swollen lips of your pussy.

You let out a throaty moan as you felt the full stretch of his cock so abruptly - a slight sting as your inner muscles struggled to become accustomed to him after going for so long without. Sure, you had masturbated, struggling to get past the sexual frustration while being single. And you really hadn’t wanted to resort to calling on any of your random male classmates for a ‘no strings attached’ fuck because you didn’t want to deal with the social interaction or the potential rumors.

And really, your fingers were nothing compared to the stretch of Isaac’s magnificent, thick cock.

Isaac saw the shock on your face as you felt just how big he was, as your body ached to remember it and you felt so fucking full again. He felt a wave of cocky pride flow through him as you clenched down on him, truly feeling every single inch.

“You asked for it,” He told you firmly, the confidence in his voice sending waves of pleasure through you - he had never been so outright cocky before. And you were turned on even more, even wetter when he added on a quiet, sharp whisper of: “Fuck, I missed this.”

But it was a bitter, double edged sword. As much as it turned you on to hear that hushed whisper coming off his lips, it only reminded you that the two of you had been parted. That he had done something cruel to you in order for that parting to happen - that his stupid decisions were the reason that you had been forced to miss him.

“Don’t.” You said sharply, raising your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails in as a type of warning, hoping that he would simply shut up and fuck you - mindless and hard, just like you needed. That he would make you cum, and then he could sleep on the couch for the night before finding other arrangements.

He gave you a smirk - one that said he had found the perfect button to push, and rather than turning away from it, he was going to slam on it until he broke you.

“What?” He said, all breath, all need - that tone that made your pussy absolutely flutter. “You don’t want me talking about how much I missed this pussy?”

“Isaac-” You said his name in a warning tone, digging your nails into him again, but your words were cut off by him pressing his pelvis into you, angling sharply against you in a way that put pressure against your clit. Like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he had picked up the skill with someone else-

Erica. Of course. It only served to piss you off more, and you moved to shove him off you.

But he began moving his hips, then - his knees poised against the mattress, using it for leverage as he began fucking you. It was a sensation you hadn’t realized you had missed so much - the smooth, wet slide of his cock in and out of you, the slight burn from him fucking you so harshly, unstretched - the pure need pulsing through you, the feeling of being so full.

Your little gasp was quickly drowned out when he began talking again.

“I’m not allowed to tell you how much I missed this feeling, huh?”

Isaac grunted, his voice only wavering slightly from the effort as he sped up, slamming his hips into you harder, rougher - quickly filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against skin, easily making your pussy lips glow with a beautiful kind of pain that only made it feel so much better.

“You don’t wanna hear about how much I missed this tight little cunt squeezing my cock?”

He had never been like this with you before.

Every single time the two of you had been in bed together, it had always been slow, sweet. The Isaac you knew before always made love to you. He was always so shy and loving. This was a side of him that you had never seen before, and if your mind wasn’t slowly melting between your ears from the pure pleasure, then you would have had the room to be shy about how much wetter you were getting around his cock, how much sloppier the sounds were becoming as he drilled into you even harder.

“Sh-” You squeaked out, the potential words that you had wanted to be ‘shut up’ easily drowned out by a pathetic moan. He chased more noises out of you when he reached down and thumbed across your clit - just a light tease, but enough to send shocks curling across your spine, enough to have you curling against the bed and squeezing his cock in that way he loved so much.

“What was that?” He mocked you, the tone of his voice a cocky imitation of the sweet way he used to talk to you, condescending in a way you should have hated.

It was definitely not something that should have made your head float and not something that should have brought even more heat to your face. Clearly, he sensed it from a mile away, saw it written all over your face - saw another button to push, and kept on going.

This was a game to him now. And regrettably, he was winning.

“Aww, baby, you wanna hear more? You wanna hear more about how much I missed your sweet little pussy?”

You choked on your own breath trying to protest against him, hating how perfectly his words got to you. And now, even your hands were numb and limp and you couldn’t claw at him as your own kind of petty revenge. You could barely even hang on as he continued pounding into you roughly, shoving you across the bed, making the headboard shake.

All you could do was choke on your own spit and take the blurring pleasure of his thick cock slamming into you while he leaned down to purr his next filthy words into your ear.

“You know, nothing can compare to the feeling of this sweet pussy gripping my cock,” He said, putting cruel emphasis on these words, causing your heart to bitterly ache in your chest.

Was he mocking you on purpose? Was this his way of asking for forgiveness, saying that he regretted what he had done?

It was something you couldn’t discern now - not with your brain so thoroughly melted by his cock.

You let out a whimper in return, the sadness mixing strangely with the pleasure he was fucking into your throbbing pussy.

“Nothing is better than the feeling of your soft, gorgeous body underneath me.” He added on, running his hands up your hips and to your breasts for emphasis. “Nothing is better than cumming while your pretty eyes look up at me, Y/N, you-”

Something inside of you snapped.

Perhaps it was because he was saying all of the right things, drifting back into that sweet man that you had fallen in love with. Inadvertently triggering all of that affection inside of you again, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You reached up and slapped him broadly across the face.

It was a very weak hit from your pleasure-numb hand, barely enough to make him flinch, but it was certainly enough to get his attention.

In response, in a fraction of a moment, he paused his rough movements, completely still his hips from fucking you, and grabbed both of your wrists, pinning you down to the bed with the impressive strength of his newly worked muscles. He shoved his cock deep inside of you, settling it there, pressing his hips tightly against yours in an almost spiteful way.

This created the battling sensations of your orgasm curling up in your stomach, already so close, and the fiery anger you had for him, along with the love for him that you didn’t want to release caged up inside of you. It was almost too much, too overwhelming while you stared into his eyes, trying desperately to read the stiff expression he wore.

“Why are you doing this?” You demanded sharply.

You desperately wanted to know what he wanted out of this. He had begged you for warmth, for the touch of another body against his - but clearly, this was about so much more.

Did he want forgiveness? Did he genuinely want to work on the relationship because he had missed you? Did he see what he had done as a mistake?

Did he want to simply rub all of it in your face? Did he want the bragging rights of having cheated on you and the ability to come back and fuck you whenever he wanted just to lord it all over you? To know that he could screw you over and still screw you?

He leaned in closer to your face, and you were praying that he would give you a definitive answer.

“You let me in.” He told you gruffly, his eyes dark.

You both knew that this had a dangerous double meaning. You had dared to let him in the front door when he knocked. You had let him into your life when he had told you over and over again that he was simply ‘poison’, that it would end in pain for the both of you. Had he been right about that, after all? You knew that he had more trauma than you could reasonably comprehend, but you didn’t know that heinous self sabotage was his number one reason for ruined relationships.

When would fighting for him no longer be viable?

Before you could puzzle it all out, he began fucking into you harshly once again.

“Fuck you,” You squeaked out, breathless - it wasn’t clever, but it was all you could come up with.

Your mind was useless while his cock was turning your brain to mince meat once again, making your pussy delightfully sore and unfortunately, quickly bringing your orgasm to life in your belly with rapidly hotter waves of pleasure that he was forcing through your body.

“You - you can’t tell me that you didn’t miss t-this,” He grunted out.

He pressed his hips tightly to yours and grinded in deep, angling his hips in that skilled way once again that put pressure on your clit. He knew how to perfectly trap that swollen bead between your two bodies, slowly torturing you with rapid little shocks while he drove home just how full he made you feel with each stroke of his hips.

At this point, even though you were dizzy and desperate to cum, you were also sick of his self righteous attitude - still looking to deny him.

“I - I didn’t,” You choked out in reply, your body more than betraying your lie.

Your muscles seized toward him and you struggled against the hold he still had on your wrists, unconsciously fucking your hips against him. You needed more friction on your clit, needing just a bit more before you could cum.

Isaac stopped.

He completely stilled himself, making your orgasm cold and stale, ebbing off inside of you. Tears leaked thick and bold from your eyes - partially from the denial, and partially from all of the cruel emotions battling inside of you.

You had missed Isaac. You hated lying - but you hated what he had done to you so much more.

You let out a choked off wail, continuing to struggle underneath his impossible strength.

“You’re lying.” He growled in your ear, a sharp sound that sent shivers down your spine.

It was a truth that pierced through you, utterly revealing. Perhaps you were raw from the state of being, from being open on his cock and so desperate to cum, but you knew that he could absolutely see your truth.

You had no clue that he could literally smell it on you - your defiance, your lies, your arousal. The love you were holding back that he was absolutely rabid and starving for.

It was a hunger that he had felt for months - one he had tried to fill by having mindless sex with Erica, by blindly running forward on the search for her and Boyd, by running headfirst into stupid fights with the opposing pack that had nearly gotten him killed. He had tried so damn hard to dull that impossible hunger with the pain of claws and hits smashing against his skin.

But it was something that could only be satisfied by you.

So he had come crawling back to you, lapping at your door like a kicked puppy - a powerful wolf like himself begging you, a human, for something only you could give him. That love that would fill all the holes inside of him that he claimed were never there in the first place - all those empty spaces he so desperately tried to ignore.

“Isaac-” You breathed out again, further reminding him of just how hollow he felt when the sound of his name coming off your lips echoed off all that empty space inside of him.

“Tell me you didn’t miss me.” He choked out in return, tears of his own blooming in his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t miss me and I’ll stop.”

“Isaac,” You let out his name as sob, your pussy clenching tightly around him. Both of you knew that you couldn’t - you could muster this up now.

Maybe it was a trap he had perfectly set - maybe it was something Derek had accidentally taught him. Trap the vulnerable, make them depend on you, and they can never leave you. Build a home out of glass walls and you’ll be happy for a while.

“Tell me.” Isaac wept. “Or I’ll leave and I’ll never come back.”

He said, his voice shaking - it wasn’t a threat. To him it was a golden promise. He was a starving dog, and if you did this now, if you truly showed him that you had nothing left to give, then he would disappear off into the woods - he would starve to death or he would learn to get his food somewhere else from now on.

“Tell me honestly that you didn’t miss me and you’ll never see me again, Y/N, I swear.”

It was a sacred promise on his breath, barely a whisper on his lips as he tightly gripped your wrists once again, sending slight pain shooting through you, assuring you of his desperation.

In those moments, all you could summon was the truth.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about his motives - the sheer pain in his warbling voice only did what it had always done to you before. It made you want to care for him more. It made you honest in that caring as you always had been.

“I missed you.” You choked out, and took a deep shuddering breath, finding the courage to say it louder, more firmly. “I missed you, Isaac. Okay? I missed you! I missed you, I-”

Your repetition of the declaration was cut off - he couldn’t help it.

He sealed his mouth to yours in a messy, passionate kiss, his tearful cheeks clashing against your own as his hands slid up to link with yours, his fingers tangling with yours in an utterly needy way. You couldn’t help but to grip him tightly back, your fingers almost painful from how hard you did this.

Your chest exploded with everything you had been denying - the love and affection and longing you had locked away for months, those feelings that you had damned and cursed over and over again.

Instinctively, he began moving his hips again, fucking into you deeply. This felt more like making love - it was slower and so fucking deep, as though he was trying desperately to get as close to you as possible, trying to climb inside and find the essence of your very soul.

You thrashed against him in response, so overwhelmed. You wailed and wept into his mouth, entirely overcome with your horrible clash of emotions.

It was a perfect storm for one of the best orgasms of your life.

His pelvis grinding against your clit, the relief of finally having him back, finally having told him how much you missed him, feeling his tears against your cheek and knowing that he had missed you too - finally having everything you had secretly been dreaming about, yearning for.

Your body couldn’t help but to sing with joy over these realizations, fucking yourself against him and bowing into an utterly epic release as all your emotions crashed over you. It forced you away from the kiss to cry out brokenly against his mouth while you squeezed his fingers numbly as the sensations rocked your body.

“Isaac, Isaac-” You chanted his name, entirely overwhelmed.

“I know, I know,” He gurgled back, continuing to fuck you, chasing his own release now. “Fuck, Y/N. I know. Fuck, I missed you-”

His voice broke down into a whimper as he finally came, pumping his hips a few more times before he finally planted himself against you and emptied his cum into the condom. (In the back of his mind, having a passing thought about how he hated it being there, how he wished he could feel you raw).

That was when you saw it - a flash of bright yellow, a literal glow in the dimly lit room that was absolutely unmistakable. The only other time you had seen anything like it was when Scott had transformed in front of you to save your life. In a single moment, everything came to you in a crashing realization while your orgasm was still echoing through your body-

The newfound seemingly epic strength, the muscles, the way he had been acting so strange after his father’s death, his eagerness to get distance from you. He had been bitten and transformed into a fucking werewolf. He had been one this whole time. Wait, how long-?

He captured your lips once again while he continued to enjoy the feeling of your hands tangling with his own, the feeling of you warm and wet, nestled around his cock - the feeling of finally being home. After a too-short moment, you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, puffing wildly against his chin while your nose brushed his flushed cheek.

The realization was still crashing over you.

How long had he been lying to you? Did he lie to you to protect you? Did he think that you knew nothing? Did he think that you were in danger because your mother had been killed? Were you in danger?

You wanted so badly to bring it up, to ask him more questions, but instead, you basked in the silence - the sound of his slowing breaths, the last bit of enjoyment you could get from the fullness as his cock softened inside of you. Which reminded you-

“Isaac, you - you have to throw away the condom.” You whispered, terrified to break up the moment.

“Oh. Yeah.” He said, clearly bitter at the idea of being distanced from you, but knowing that it was just the reality of things - that the two of you would have to part eventually.

He finally released your hands, which were now slightly numb and painful from being in the same position for so long, and from being gripped so harshly by him, tingling with blood in that ugly sharp way. You couldn’t bring yourself to truly mind it.

When he pulled his cock out of you, you whined from the soreness and your own hesitation at parting, and he kissed a silent apology into the top of your breast as he took off the condom and tossed into a wastebasket that was at your bedside - your room well memorized by him and still so unchanged since he had last been in here.

In fact, he had helped you move in and had done a lot of unpacking with you when you had made the transition after your mother’s death. He felt so comfortable in this room. More than he ever had at ‘home’ with his father.

You scooted off the bed, your body already protesting with soreness, and you moved to the doorway, intending to go to the bathroom. You needed a moment to yourself to comprehend everything and also, you needed to clean up.

You paused in the doorway, feeling Isaac’s eyes heavy on your back. You picked up one of your shirts that had landed on the floor beside the laundry hamper - one you had been wearing just the night before. It was a black shirt with the Jigsaw spiral on it. In a sense, it reminded you of him - willing to take a lot of pain and suffer in silence, sacrifice a lot for the ones he loved.

You picked up the shirt and tossed it at him, causing it to land awkwardly on his head.

“Get dressed.” You told him quietly. “I don’t think my sister will be a huge fan of some naked guy sleeping in my bed when she comes home.”

It was your not-so-subtle way of telling him that he would be spending the night, and definitively staying in your bed.

“What am I now - your whore?” He joked, letting out a small nervous laugh as he peeled the fabric off his face.

This was his not-so-subtle way of asking what the relationship meant to you now - posed as a joke. Did he get the precious title of being your boyfriend again? Even after all he had done?

You shrugged.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” You told him - another insinuation. You would be back to have that grand talk. “You should get some pants. They’re in-”

“-in the bottom drawer.” Isaac finished off the sentence easily. “I remember.”

Of course.

You left the room then, and Isaac watched your back until you were gone from view. He picked up the shirt you had given him and lifted it to his nose, taking in a greedy whiff of your scent - and his heart ached as he thought about all he had put you through. But he also felt like telling you the truth wouldn’t have been much better.

…

“You’re sure that you wanna do this?” Erica posed, stepping into the locker room with Isaac.

She was going along with his plan simply because she wanted the petty thrill of stealing someone else’s boyfriend - even if it wasn’t entirely real.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Isaac told her, checking the clock again, counting down the moments until his relationship with you would be over. “I need her to hate me.”

Erica hummed in affirmation and nodded, and then kicked off her shoes and stripped off her jacket. When she went for the zipper on the front of her top, Isaac flinched and put up his hands in protest. He didn’t want to actually cheat on you - he thought he had made that part very clear when posing the plan to Erica. He didn’t want to actually have sex with her (no matter how much she suggested it).

“Woah - what’re you doing?” He gaped, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Making it look real, dumbass.” She told him, unzipping her top and tossing it aside without care. “You don’t have to fuck me, but make it look like you were going to, at least. Make it believable.”

His insides churned with guilt… but - she had a point.

“You said you want her to hate you. So make her hate you.” Erica added on with a smirk. She was enjoying this far too much.

“Fine, fine, yeah.” Isaac agreed, and then he thought of something. “Do you have the uh-?” He motioned to her mouth, to the bright red lipstick that she was wearing. “The one that you have on?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She reached to the back pocket of her jeans, took out the lipstick tube and handed it to Isaac. He uncapped it and - much to her horror - stuck his fingers all over it to begin smearing it across his cheeks and then his chest. Staging the scene to make it look like she had been kissing him.

“Gross!” She complained, snatching it back from him. “You - ugh!”

She inspected the top of the lipstick for a moment before deciding that Isaac had ruined it entirely - so she sighed and tossed it into a nearby trash can.

She wanted to complain further about it, but instead - she got petty.

“Okay, you want real?”

Before he could predict what she meant by this, she reared her claws and dug large scratch marks into his back, wicked stinging and painful - marks that wouldn’t heal for at least a few hours due to his Beta status.

“Dammit!” He cried out in protest.

He turned and looked in the mirror then - out of context, the marks would look oddly sexual.

She grinned at him. “You’re welcome.”

“You are such a bitch.” He sighed in defeat.

“Takes one to know one, sweetie.”

Before he could come up with a clever reply, they both heard you coming down the mostly secluded hallway, able to notice you from far off due to their enhanced hearing.

You were humming brightly to yourself. You were so happy.

Isaac churned with regret already, but he knew he couldn’t turn back now.

“Showtime.” Erica grinned, and pinned him up against one of the lockers, kissing him fiercely.

…

That had easily been one of the worst days of his life. But he had felt entirely validated when he had witnessed Gerard attempt to use the Kanima to kill Allison - the impossible power of the large reptile tightening its tail around her throat, her own grandfather ruthless enough to want her dead without caring. Something that might have actually come to terrible fruition if Scott hadn’t thought steps ahead to outsmart him.

You were someone so kind. You were someone who always wanted to help people, wanted to save people - and it would have gotten you killed. You would have gotten in the way, trying to help someone who couldn’t be saved, and you would have died because of it.

Erica suggested to Isaac many times that he simply let Derek give you the Bite so that you wouldn’t be ‘weak’ anymore - so that you could fight for yourself and you could be strong alongside them. But Isaac refused to even consider it. He refused to even let Derek talk to you because he knew that you would be making the choice for the wrong reasons. You would want to be Turned to be with Isaac. You wouldn’t want it for yourself.

And - as Derek had warned all of them - there was a small chance that the Bite could kill you. And Isaac would never let that happen to you. He wouldn’t put you in that kind of danger, not for his own selfish reasons.

So Isaac stayed far away from you.

He started having sex with Erica after he broke up with you - the kind of harsh, mindless sex that took his mind off you for at least a few minutes. And thankfully, Erica didn’t mind when your name slipped from his lips as he came. She said that she thought it was ‘cute’ - how in love with you he was. It was likely more okay with her because she was seeing Boyd and Stiles on the side at the time.

Her and Isaac were never anything exclusive, never anything close to being in love. It helped him see the more human side of her. It definitely made them closer friends. And it caused it to hurt a lot more when he found out that she was dead.

Maybe it was part of the reason why he had come back to you tonight. Because Erica thought the way he loved you was sweet. She was always pushing him to go back to you because of how hung up on you he was. She thought that he should just push all of his fears aside and be with you instead of hiding from it.

Isaac let out a harsh huff and shoved the shirt over his head before getting up to find a pair of pants.

…

As you made it to the bathroom, you felt an intense chill biting at your skin from walking around the apartment naked. You couldn’t help but to find it ironic that a single shiver had started all of this. Perhaps you had given all of your warmth to Isaac.

What the hell had happened?

Isaac had cheated on you with Erica. Or so he wanted you to believe. Either way, he had set you up for the hurt of believing it, rather than just breaking up with you. Rather than just telling you the truth. That truth being that he had been transformed into a werewolf.

Isaac was a werewolf.

That was a lot to take in.

Perhaps the most shocking part - for some fucking reason, he didn’t trust you with that information.

The basis of it all being: he didn’t trust you.

It made you crash with hurt and betrayal all over again. Almost worse than you had felt on the day you had walked in and seen him and Erica all over each other.

You had to ball up some toilet paper to wipe up your tears, and you stared at yourself harshly in the mirror, wondering why.

Why didn’t he trust you enough to tell you?

Was he afraid that you would consider him some kind of monster? Did he not know that Scott had saved your life at the school that night and since then, you considered every single werewolf to be an ally of yours in some way, rather than feeling afraid of them? Did he think that you would have shunned him as dangerous and scary because of his newfound abilities?

Had he actually killed his father?

You highly doubted it, seeing as he had been with you all night on the night of the murder. Even if he had been the one - you would have congratulated him for doing so. His father was a cruel bastard and you never would have judged him for finally snapping on the man.

So why? Why?

You finally gathered yourself enough to go back to your bedroom, and you found Isaac wearing your shirt and pair of your plaid pajama pants, leaning against the pillows, clearly waiting for you. You silently gathered some clothes of your own, and then you sat on the edge of the bed with your back turned to him.

There was a tense moment before either of you spoke. The rain had come to a calm patter outside, making the gentleness of your voice cut through the room in a much harsher way.

“You didn’t cheat on me with Erica.” You spoke it as a statement, rather than a question.

You knew it to be virtually true, and you were simply waiting for him to confirm it as a fact.

You stepped into your underwear and pulled them up, and he kept his eyes carefully on your back, trying to memorize each precious inch of you in the low lighting - as though this would be the last time he ever got to see your naked skin again.

“How did you know?” He wondered quietly in return.

“It’s that self destructive thing you do.” You told him. “I got you that nice watch for your sixteenth birthday, and then you ‘broke it’ running late night lacrosse drills.”

You said, putting sarcastic emphasis on the words, not pretending to believe the lie he had told you at the time. You and Isaac both knew what had happened.

He didn’t believe that he was worthy of nice things. He had smashed it on purpose in an emotional fit, maybe not even knowing that he was desperate to see what your reaction would be. It was an instinct to sabotage the relationship with you.

He thought that you would scream, yell, fault him for being ‘stupid’. He thought that you would break up with him over a watch - over him not taking care of your nice gift well enough. Instead, you told him that it was okay - comforted him about. And a week later, you replaced it with a slightly cheaper version that he still had.

“After the first time I told you that I loved you, you got into that huge bloody fist-fight with Greenberg because you said that you saw him staring at my ass.” You recounted. “But you’re not the jealous type.”

Again - true. He wasn’t jealous, he had just been looking to get a reaction out of you. Again, it was a desire entirely unconscious to him - projecting all of that discomfort and annoyance onto Greenberg at the time. He felt like things were too good with you. You were too loving, too sweet - he was going to fuck it up sooner or later, and one day, he was going to make a mistake too big for you to forgive.

He simply thought he should make that mistake and get it over with, rather than waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You sighed and hoisted your shirt over your head, slipping your arms through the sleeves and letting the loose fabric fall down over your back before you finally turned to him.

“The one thing I couldn’t figure out, though-” You told him carefully. “Was what I had done to evoke you cheating on me.” You said, your voice choppy and tearful once again.

“Y/N-” He begged quietly, reaching across the bed toward your hand, which you quickly snatched away.

He didn’t want you to think that his vile nature was ever your fault.

“I finally get it, though.” You added on sharply. “You could have just told me, Isaac.”

His chest jumped with anxiety. How did you know? You couldn’t possibly know that-

“Your eyes were glowing yellow earlier.”

Isaac sighed in defeat and slumped back against the bed.

“How do you know?” He asked, curious about how you knew about the existence of werewolves in the first place.

“Scott.” You said simply.

“Scott.” He echoed back dully. Of course.

Isaac ground his palms into his forehead, exhausted by the fact that you had found out about something he had been trying to protect you from. That he had put you through so much unnecessary pain.

“I was trying to protect you.” He said quietly. “I didn’t want you getting hurt, I wanted you as far away from me as possible-”

“Protect me from what?” You cried out, entirely exasperated with him.

If there was truly some source of danger, you wanted him to tell you about it.

But of course, that wasn’t what he meant.

“Me.”

He finally admitted it, the thing the two of you had been dancing around for the entirety of your relationship.

“I’m not good for you, Y/N.” Isaac added on, his throat tight with tears once again. “You need to stay away from me, you-”

“So you pretended to cheat on me?” You bit back sharply.

There it was again - the stupidity of his own regret that stung him so much.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He replied, sounding bitterly regretful rather than any kind of smut.

“Yet we’re still right back here.” You sighed in return.

“Like I said - I didn’t know where else to go.”

He felt a unique guilt in running to you. But as much as he tried to deny it, you were his safe place. You were the only one he could turn to when his world was crashing down. He had done the same thing too many times when his father had been alive, so the habit was far too ingrained into him.

Rather than reminding him why you gave him that safety, driving it home, you asked a different question that had been burning at you.

“Where have you been staying since your father died?” You asked.

Isaac hesitated heavily at this. He didn’t want to delve into the stupidity of his choices; the mistakes that had led him up to this point.

You waited patiently in his silence.

You began to busy yourself - stood up and began plucking certain pillows off the bed to put them aside, causing Isaac to stand up to the side to let you pull back the covers. You didn’t ask him to leave, which was as good as wordlessly inviting him to sleep there with you. It gave him a certain comfort, knowing that you weren’t entirely paying attention to him as you fluffed the bed and then sought out cream for your hands, going about a nightly routine. Knowing that he would still get to fall asleep with you after all this.

“You know Derek Hale?” Isaac posed.

That was a complex question for you.

You knew him as the man who had ultimately killed the beast that had killed your mother. In your mind, that made him someone favorable. But Scott had warned you to stay away from him - had said that Derek was not the kind of person you should ever be mixing with, werewolf or not. And you trusted Scott with your life, and thus far, had absolutely no reason to interact with Derek Hale. So you had steered clear of him.

But you weren’t sure how to form your opinions around him.

“I know of him,” You replied. “Scott talks about him unpleasantly. Told me to stay away from him.”

Isaac was happy that Scott had done so, but that didn’t set the stage so well for what he had to say next.

“He - he kinda took me in after my father died.” Isaac explained, purposefully vague.

“Oh.” You said, your aptitude of mixed feelings for Derek flowing through the air so easily with your voice saying this simple word.

Clearly, Scott didn’t like him. He had never explained to you why, but whenever he spoke about Derek, there was always an oddly calm rage bubbling under the surface. Derek had taken Isaac in, which seemed like a kindness on the surface - but clearly, he didn’t care for Isaac. He had left him homeless in a rainstorm with nowhere else to go but to come crawling back to your doorstep in utter desperation.

Derek sounded like an asshole.

Again - you trusted Scott completely. And whatever reasons he had for not liking Derek… they seemed to be coming to light without an explanation needed from him.

You put two pillows at the head of the bed, and then you crawled to sit on your side while Isaac leaned against the bench underneath your window with his arms crossed, staring at you with his jaw clenched. He knew you well enough to know what was on your mind.

“Look, it’s not as bad as it sounds.” He told you, instinctively defensive of Derek, his pack Alpha. “He helped me out. And not just me. Boyd, and Erica-”

“Oh.” You sighed, rolling your eyes, still feeling sensitive toward the name even though the cheating hadn’t been entirely real. “He helped Erica. Big fan of Erica.” You scoffed sarcastically - the image of her red lips all over Isaac still seared into your brain.

“Please don’t be like that.” Isaac shook his head. “She was my friend.”

“Was?” You questioned, now entirely caught up on the tense.

Were they no longer friends, or-?

“Erica is dead.” Isaac choked out, barely able to say the words.

It was the first time he had spoken these words in a conscious state, out of the ice bath. It was the first time that he had truly come to terms with it. Even after Derek had brought her body back and he had helped him bury her under a circle of Wolfsbane, just as he had done to his sister Laura before (until the grave had been disturbed by two idiots not knowing what they were doing).

This came as a shock to you.

You had seen the missing posters plastered all over town - all over school, and you had heard people whispering rumors about her, none of which you believed. Things about how she ‘shacked up’ with an older man who ended up killing her and burying her body somewhere. Whispers about how she became a prostitute and probably overdosed, how she simply ran away because Beacon Hills sucked so much.

Even if you didn’t like her at the time, you had always felt bad for her, and hoped that she was truly okay. You had always felt bad for her parents because they never had answers.

You had no clue that she had been involved with Derek Hale and other werewolves.

“Boyd just got back after being missing for months,” Isaac continued, his voice still saturated with mourning. “But it’s like he’s still gone. I don’t blame him, after what happened.”

You badly wanted to ask what Isaac meant by this, but you held back. His eyes were distant, swimming with intense thought - he was off somewhere else, clearly speaking into open air things that he had been dying to get off his chest. So you were going to stay silent, giving him the space to let it all out.

“And Derek -”

He cut himself off abruptly, replaying the moment in his mind, wondering where it had all gone wrong. It made him sick - the sound of Derek’s booming voice, the glass smashing over his head. Isaac knew that somehow, it was all his fault. What had he done wrong? What had he done so wrong to make Derek react that way?

What was so poisonous, so inherently unlovable about Isaac that made people act that way around him?

“Derek kicked me out for no reason.” He mumbled quietly, continuing.

“Isaac-” Your urge to comfort him was welling up again.

And now that he had opened the dam of these feelings - unfortunately, he couldn’t turn off the flood when it came.

“I feel so alone.”

He declared sharply, his voice edging into a near-sob that made your chest bitterly ache. His eyes were wide and wet with tears, and you nearly rushed across the room just to hold him.

“I just - I feel so wrong. There is something inside of me that is so wrong, that is so damn broken. I felt like… for a moment, for a split second, things were good. I had a family, I had a purpose. But it’s me, ya know? I’m just broken. I break things. I fuck everything up. If I love something, it dies. So I can’t - I just can’t be loved.”

“That’s not true.” You rushed to say it, and before you could stop yourself, the words came tumbling from your lips. “I love you.”

It was the first time you had spoken the words since the break-up, the first time you used those words in such an anchored, present tense.

Isaac looked at you with the most broken expression you had ever seen.

Thousands of demons fighting to get out, his eyes so glassy with hurt. His lips quivered as he fought with it himself - he wanted so badly to say it back, but the moment he did, he became liable again. The moment he did, he became yours again and you became his - you became something he could lose.

It felt like a death sentence in his mouth. One that he couldn’t bring himself to curse you with.

He let out a sharp, nasal breath as the words fought hard inside of his chest. Your own pain struggled inside of you, and you knew you had to do the one thing that you did best - comfort him. Release him from his pain.

“It’s okay.” You told him gently. “It’s okay, just come to bed.”

You patted the empty side of the mattress, and all of the tension left Isaac’s body in an instant, looking as though he was about to collapse in on himself. He practically fell across the gap from the window to the bed, falling into the comfort you provided once again. You raised the covers for him to crawl in beside you, laying your head on his chest so that you could enjoy the sound of his heartbeat as you pulled the covers up over the two of you.

“You are loved, Isaac.” You told him - you had to tell him. You had to let him know. “And you aren’t alone. You’ll never be alone as long as I’m around.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He replied, the words so quiet that they barely broke free from his throat.

If you weren’t careful, you would start crying again.

“Just go to sleep now.” You told him, putting an arm around his stomach, holding him tightly while he put a hand around your back, holding you to him, anchoring you there as though you might drift away while he slept. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

For some reason, that felt believable to him when you said it.

…

Isaac slept for a few wrecked hours, maybe less.

He was woken up by a nightmare - a vision of Erica crawling toward him, desperately crying out for help before her throat was slashed by Kali. The sound of her choking on her own blood remained swollen in his ears when he jolted awake and stared at your ceiling. It was a while before he realized that calm, sweet pattern beside him was your breathing.

He laid there and listened to it for a long time before he got up. He found himself too thankful that he could hear your heartbeat now - that he could know with his own ears that you were so alive, so safe.

He watched you sleep - took in your peaceful face, the way the first golden rays of the sunrise kissed at your skin - and he knew that he could never let anything worthy of tainting his nightmares happen to you. He was a damn selfish dog, but he would never let you truly get hurt just because he wanted something as fading as sex or comfort.

So Isaac kissed you on the forehead - gentle, careful not to wake you. And he gathered his things. He crept out the door still wearing the shirt that smelled like you. He would claim that it was because he didn’t have any clean laundry - not because he was greedy for your scent.

…

When you woke up, Isaac was gone.

Your sister’s bedroom door was closed and her shoes were back by the front door, so she was home safely. Isaac was not in your bed, and his duffle bag was gone. He had even picked up the soaking wet clothes that he had strewn all over the floor.

The only evidence you found that it hadn’t all been a dream was the used condom still in the wastebasket, and a tiny note on your bedside table that said ‘I love you, too’ scribbled in his handwriting on a piece of torn notebook paper.

You were going to track him down - and when you did, you weren’t sure if you were going to kiss him or kill him.

...

Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a 'Part 2'. If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging it to show your appreciation, or commenting on this fic, or you can take a look at my Teen Wolf Masterlist for more of my fics from this fandom.

However, please do not comment on this fic asking for a sequel or asking for more - I generally consider that stressful and impolite. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

I really enjoyed writing this fic, and I do have some ideas for a potential sequel, but it's not something that I am rushing to write, and it's not something that will be on my schedule anytime soon. If you would like to, you can come into my inbox and chat about my ideas for the potential sequel - but right now they are just ideas and they will stay that way for a long time before becoming a full realised story (if they ever become one). I hope you enjoyed this fic as the capsule story oneshot that I always intended for it to be, and that you enjoy my other works if you do check them out.

Happy reading!! -Sunny <3

#sundrop writes #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x you #isaac lahey x y/n #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey smut #isaac lahey x fem!reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf smut #teen wolf fanfiction

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stevie-petey · 6 months ago

Text

chapter six: e pluribus unum

“There’s my pretty girl!” Steve giggles, head lolling to the side as he admires you. “Isn’t she the prettiest, Robin?” Robin giggles as well, her face just as bruised and bloodied as his. “So pretty!” “Oh God,” despite their injured state, the two teens are in an unusually good mood. They giggle like school girls, Robin even bats her eyelashes at you. Something is off with them. “How hard did they hit your heads?”

Summary: things get hot and heavy in the face of death, mean russians kidnap your hot almost-boyfriend, you have a philosophical discussion about nerdiness with the kids, acid becomes your new favorite weapon, and steve and robin try drugs together. yippee !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence, cursing, blood and mentions of death, use of weapons

Words: 6.7k

Before you swing in: oh BOY do i have a lot to say about this chapter ,,, but for now i will hold off. pls, enjoy her. youve all waited so very patiently for this moment, and im SO excited to see what yall have to say <333

“The gate,” you, Steve, and Dustin breathe out at the same time. You stare at the machine before you; the gravity of the situation settles upon all of you as the machine continues to send pulses of light into the entrance of the Upside Down.

The lights flash, the blue flickers across your face as countless men in lab coats marvel at their creation, and your hands tighten into fists. What they have created will only undo the endless hours you have spent trying to protect everyone, it diminishes every sacrifice that has been made, it taunts the blood that has been spilled.

You hate them, you hate what they have brought back into your life.

“We have to get out of here.” No one argues with you, and quickly you guide everyone downstairs.

“What’s going on?” Robin asks as you gently push her down the stairs, quickening her pace. The urgence of your actions, however, only alert her that something is wrong. “Why do you guys look so scared?”

Days of hiding the truth from her have finally caught up to you, you can feel it, and yet there isn’t anything you can really tell her. Not yet, at least; there isn’t enough time. Hurrying down the stairs, you shake your head at Robin. “It’s a lot to explain.”

“I don’t understand, you’ve seen this before?”

She’s always been too perceptive.

You hate her genius mind.

“Not exactly.” Steve takes over now, trying to help.

Robin’s voice raises, she’s becoming inpatient. “Then what, exactly?”

Two of them argue and Dustin joins in, though you ignore them and reach the last step to start looking for any possible weapons in the room. If you guys have even the slightest chance of making it out of here alive, then you’ll need more than your switchblade and Steve’s surprising new combat skills.

As your eyes scan the room, you realize, too late, that the Russian guard Steve had knocked out only minutes ago is now gone. Horrified, you frantically whip your head to find him, but the man is gone.

Wonderful.

Erica notices this too. “Um, Steve? Where’s your Russian friend?”

With impeccable comedic timing, lights begin to flicker above you as an alarm sounds. Seems the Russian guard snitched, then.

“Oh, shit!” Your switchblade finds its way into your hand. This just keeps getting worse and worse.

Steve curses as well and sprints to the door to open it, trying to find another way out, but instead he finds a swarm of guards all staring back at him. Cursing again, he slams the door shut. He doesn’t have to say anything, you know by the look on his face that you’re in deep shit. “Go, go, go!”

Blindly you shove Dustin and Erica into the nearest door, tugging at Robin, and Steve takes the rear as the group starts to run. Your senses are in overdrive, your head swims with anxiety and your eyes flicker to any possible way out. Your legs ache with exertion, but you have no fucking idea where you are.

You make a sharp right and open a random door, but almost immediately you stumble to a halt when you see that it’s the room to the goddamn machine opening the Upside Down. Of course this is the room you chose. The scientists all stare at you, and you really wish you had stayed in bed yesterday. “Fuck!”

“Go, Y/N!” Dustin yanks on your arm and goes left, finding stairs to run down.

You risk a quick look over your shoulder and your heart drops when you see that the Russian guards are close behind. “We got company!” You’re on the landing platform now, too close to the machine and the gate for your own comfort. Dustin screeches as he shoves a Russian against the railing. You wince, feeling bad despite the horrible circumstances. “Sorry!”

“Why are you apologizing to the Russians–holy shit–” Gripping the back of your brother’s shirt, you save him from face planting into the giant laser beam. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!”

Steve and the others have joined now, and you realize how helplessly cornered the five of you are. You’re standing on the edge of the platform and the laser’s heat can be felt even six feet away while twenty armed Russian soldiers approach from behind.

Defeated, helpless, terrified, you turn to the person whose hand rests gently on the small of your back; the only person who gives you solace. “Steve.”

It’s all you can say, your knees feel weak and your body turns to his, helpless. You don’t know what else to do. Steve’s eyes find yours, he can feel Dustin looking to him for help as well. Robin, Erica. Everyone is looking to him, and yet he’s just as terrified.

“This way!” He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows that he has to protect you. Running back down the stairs, he shoves a guard that blocks the path and you’re right behind him, pushing barrels at more guards that round the corner so that no one else can follow.

“Go!” You wave the others ahead, now taking the rear with Steve. The two of you do whatever you can to slow the Russians down as Robin leads the kids towards another door. You’re all blindly running through the endless walls of the facility.

The door flies open and everyone rushes into the room.

Everything happens quickly after that.

Steve slams the door while you hold the kids behind you, away from the door and fearful of the bullets that may rain through it. Steve braces his back against the door. The Russians pound the frame from the other side.

Madly looking around for any sign of an exit, your body fills with unbearable dread when you realize that you’ve locked yourselves in a room without any way out.

Dustin’s scared hand grips at your arm. He seems to realize what you already have. “Shit!”

“Robin!” Steve calls out to her, desperate. He’s rapidly losing his footing to hold his position as the guards’ fists rage a relentless war. “Help me, come on!”

She runs to him and throws her back against the door as well, and the distress in Steve’s voice only hastens you as you run around the room. There has to be a way out. You refuse to die like this, far below Hawkins and the sunlight you’ve come to love within the small town.

Breath quickening, you rush up the steps within the room and drag Dustin along with you. Robin’s face is red now, Steve’s feet keep slipping, and from the force of which the door they hold thuds, you know the guards have started to throw their own bodies against it.

Something creeks below your foot. You look down and inexplicably hope jumps into your chest. There’s a vent grate, this entire underground facility is full of air ducts, it’s how you got into this entire fucking mess in the first place. “Here! I found something!”

Erica joins you and Dustin and quickly the three of you pry the vent open. You help Erica lower herself inside, instructing her to start crawling, now, when Dustin shouts down to Robin and Steve. “Come on!”

“Go! Just get out of here!” Steve screams back, groaning as the pounding on the door becomes more and more violent.

Your hand, which had been on your brother’s back, ready to help him inside the air duct next, stills. Your entire body freezes as you look over at Steve, ice cold fear crawls up your neck; doubt creeps in as you realize, far too late, that there isn’t enough time for them to escape into the vent.

There never seems to be enough time.

But you have to try anyway. All you ever do is try, you will die trying, you just can’t let it be in vain. “Steve, Robin, let’s go!”

Steve clenches his teeth as another body throws itself against the door. Through his exertion he can see how pale you are now, the realization that dawns on you that you will have to leave him behind, and Steve wishes he could kiss the despair off of your pretty face. “No! Just go and get some help, okay?”

“I–I can’t–” Dustin tugs at your shirt to come with him, but your body is unmoving. You can’t, you won’t leave them behind, Steve’s biceps strain against the doorframe and Robin groans in pain, and yet your brother’s fearful grip on you reminds you of your responsibility to him as well. To protect him, to get Erica home, be with them.

But Steve is in danger. He needs you.

You don’t know what to do.

“Y/N!” Dustin calls after you as you tear yourself away from him.

Blindly, as your vision darkens and the terror in your body threatens to consume you, you stumble down the steps towards Steve. You need to be close to him, it’s all your mind and body can register as the roaring in your head nearly deafens you.

As soon as you’re in front of him, grasping at his shoulders to try and take him with you, Steve pushes you away. “Y/N, you need to leave–”

“I’m not leaving you!” The shrillness scares even yourself, the sheer desperation to stay with Steve comes deep from within your chest as you scream at him. You’re panicking now, angry at him for even considering the idea that you’d ever leave him. As if you haven’t just gotten him back.

You’re never letting go of him now that you have him.

Not again.

Robin tries to reason with you herself, distantly you think she pleads with you, but your vision tunnels and all you can see is Steve. Your body hums with the need for his.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Another thud against the door, Robin’s foot slips, and Steve has to throw his head back and brace for yet another impact. He’s angry at you, too. For not listening to him. For how you’ve always blindly sacrificed yourself, harmed yourself to protect others.

Steve won’t let you hurt yourself anymore, not when he can save you.

Not again.

“The kids need you–”

“I need you!” Tears wet your face now, you’re clutching at Steve’s shirt as Dustin continues to scream at you to run, to not abandon him, and it feels as if you can’t breathe as words begin to tumble from your mouth with hysteria. “We–we can run, right now! You’re fast, and–and Robin can jump and–”

Steve’s lips crash against yours.

He’s weak and scared and helpless; this is the only way he knows how to get you to listen.

You breathe in sharply as his lips move against yours, you melt into him. He pours everything into the kiss, your teeth knock against his and your hands find his hair, tugging at it as Steve tries to convey everything that time won’t allow him to.

The kiss is rushed, it’s messy and it’s aching, and through it Steve begs you. To love him despite the fact that he has to leave you, that he’s doing this for you, he begs you to remember him, and selfishly he kisses you because he doesn’t want to die knowing he’s wasted half the damn summer without ever knowing how your lips felt against his.

It isn’t death that terrifies Steve, it’s the idea that he almost died without knowing how you tasted.

When Steve finally pulls away, you’re too shocked to move. His lips are tinged pink and his brown eyes are dark in the lighting and you’re both breathless. Your hands remain in his hair, all you can register is how the strands feel between your fingers and that Dustin is now at your side, yanking at your arm to follow him back towards the vent.

Numbly you allow Steve’s hands to help Dustin move your limp body, your feet rise to reach the steps. The warmth of Steve’s body is gone now. Faintly you feel your brother’s firm, but gentle, hands as he shoves you inside the vent.

There’s a tugging within your chest suddenly, an overwhelming sensation to turn around, and abruptly you come back to yourself. The roaring in your head quiets for only a moment, the lights are bright and Dustin’s fingers dig into your skin, yet still your eyes find Steve.

He’s far below you now, the Russians have almost broken through the door, and his kiss still sears your lips. Urgently, viciously, you scream the only thing you can think of that encompasses all the love and terror within you, “Come home to me!”

Steve opens his mouth to promise you that he will, he always will. You can hear the promise even before he’s said it, but the doors burst open and Dustin slams the vent’s grate down.

You ran out of time.

The echo of the grate’s slam rings in your ears.

–

Erica is the one that guides you through the air ducts.

You haven’t said anything since leaving Steve and Robin behind; it’s been hours now, and yet still you do not speak.

Dustin crawls behind you, worried. He watches your body shake slightly as you crawl through the narrow space. His stomach lurches when he notices how white your knuckles have become from how tightly you clench your fists.

You’re clinging onto what little resolve you have left, it’s evident to Dustin, and he worries about when, not if, you’ll finally snap. He knows that now isn’t the right time to initiate a code blue, but he’s concerned seeing you so broken. He hates that he can’t do anything, that he dragged you away from the others.

The air inside the ducts is warm, almost nauseatingly so, and the ringing in your ears has yet to fade. Steve’s kiss still burns your lips. His promise to you, that he would return and come back home to you, the promise that he couldn’t make, drowns out all of your other thoughts.

Come home to me.

He hadn’t had time to answer you.

The thought nauseates you more than the sickening heat that surrounds you. You left him. Robin, too.

You left them both behind, just like you left Will behind the night the Demogorgon got him. And the kids, that night when you abandoned them at the middle school and left them vulnerable to that fucking monster. And Jonathan, when he thought his brother had died and you were too lost in your self pity when he needed you the most.

Now, after promising Steve you’d stay, sworn in the passenger seat of his car as the snow fell around you both, you’ve left him once more.

Take all the time you need, I’ll be here.

The promises you’ve made burn so deeply that a wince escapes your lips, and Dustin quietly asks if you’re okay.

“‘M fine,” you manage to rasp out, crawling forward despite the tormented tugging that begs you to turn around.

You hear Dustin’s lips part, he doesn’t believe you and wants to argue, but you keep your head turned away from him and he instead settles on sighing. You’re not ready to talk about it, not yet. Not now, not when you feel as if you’ve lost a piece of yourself.

Erica turns a corner and starts to slow down. “Fans up ahead.”

“Great,” Dustin groans when he sees the giant blades spinning, blocking the way forward. “Think we could time it right and jump through them?”

“If you wanna lose a head, sure.” Erica snorts, unpleased with the risky idea. “Don’t you have tools in those lame ass cargo shorts you’re wearing?”

“My cargo shorts aren’t lame…”

You sit quietly as Dustin and Erica try and figure out what to do. You’re still in shock, you can’t gather the energy to try and help them. It’s like a switch has been flipped inside of you, deactivating your ability to do anything other than be plagued with the crippling sensation of loss.

Eventually Erica convinces Dustin to try and break into the control panel next to the fans and shut them down manually. He pulls a screwdriver from one of his pockets (to Erica’s utter amusement), and starts unscrewing the bolts. Through it all, you remain quiet, and when Dustin looks over at you, he finds you staring blankly at the walls with an almost lifeless gaze.

He sighs. Needing to distract himself, Dustin figures now is as good a time as any to explain everything to Erica. The Russians, why they’re here, why you’ve almost lost your mind trying to protect everyone. “It all started the night Will disappeared, two years ago.”

Dustin explains the Upside Down, the Demogorgon and how it was able to travel to their world through a gate El had accidentally opened with her powers, and now how the Russians have somehow found this gate and are attempting to reopen it.

Erica, to her credit, listens. She doesn’t question a thing, and Dustin is surprised by her lack of sarcastic input, but when he finishes explaining everything, the girl only has doubts about one thing: Lucas being involved.

“Wait, so you believe everything about El and the gate, and the Demodogs and the Mind Flayer, but you question your brother’s involvement?” Dustin asks the girl, in disbelief of how her mind works.

“That’s correct.”

Then, surprising them both, you finally speak. “Lucas is brave, Erica. He’s done a lot for the party.”

Erica’s stony expression softens slightly, her usual argumentative demeanor backs down. “Yeah, well. Whatever. You’re damn lucky it’s your birthday and I feel bad for you.”

It’s not much, but you know that she’s spared you her malice. For once you accept the sympathy, even if your luck has run out hours ago when Steve kissed you and then tore you apart. “Lucky,” you snort. “Yeah.”

Dustin and Erica look at one another wearily, though you pretend you don’t see it. After a few heartbeats, your brother clears his throat and goes back to unscrewing the control panel.

“Um, you need help with that?” Erica asks the boy, doubtful of his capabilities. When Dustin tells her no, she doubles down. “I mean, it’s taking a while, so–”

Dustin huffs at her. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”

“Don’t cuss at her.” You butt in, but Erica has already started back with her arguing.

She claims that at the slow pace you’re going, Steve and Robin stand no chance, and her words make the nausea claw up your throat. Dustin notices the way you clutch at your stomach and he quickly tries to reason with Erica, maybe say that she’s wrong, but the girl only continues to talk.

“I mean, we’ve made it about point-three miles in nine hours.” Erica looks down at her watch as she speaks, but her eyes almost swim with the numbers you assume she invisions in her mind. “Then we had to walk three hours down that tunnel, so I’d estimate ten miles back to the elevator, which should take us approximately twelve and a half days.”

You and Dustin look at each other, baffled. No way Erica managed to come up with those numbers all on her own. Sure, you’ve always secretly suspected that she was more intelligent than she let on, but Jesus. You can hardly remember the multiples of seven on a good day.

“Did you just do all of that in your head?” Dustin asks her, eyes wide with astonishment.

Erica shrugs. “I’m good with numbers.”

“That’s an understatement,” you mumble under your breath, though you’re starting to feel more like yourself again. Dustin calls Erica a nerd, which she adamantly denies, and the light hearted conversation almost seems to draw you out of your state of shock, albeit slowly.

Your brother lists off all the proof he has of Erica’s “nerdiness” and you listen, chuckling. The genuine offense on the girl’s face is hard not to laugh at, and when Dustin sees that it seems to be cheering you up, he doubles down on his efforts.

“Fact number three: you love My Little Pony.” He holds up Erica’s backpack that has two ponies printed across it, which you snort at.

Erica crosses her arms defensively. “And what does My Little Pony have to do with this?”

“Let’s recall the ponies’ latest adventure, shall we?” Dustin clears his throat and begins retelling the tales of the ponies, and you cannot believe that your fourteen year old brother still watches the show and pays enough attention to understand its themes and narrative. “Ergo, My Little Pony is nerdy. Ergo, you, Erica, are a nerd.”

“Not to take sides,” you poke your head between the two kids. “But why do you know so much about the show, Dustin?”

“Because I’m a nerd.” He manages to get the control panel open and rips the wires out of it. Electric sparks fly as they disconnect and the fans behind you slowly come to a stop. “Now, let’s go, nerds.”

Erica glares at him before turning to you. “Do you watch My Little Pony, Y/N?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not that pathetic. I read comics instead, like the mature seventeen year old I am.”

The girl rolls her eyes at you, entirely over you and your brother, and starts crawling through the air ducts once more. As she leaves, Dustin stays behind. “Hey,”

His hand wraps around your arm and stops you from following Erica. You pause, confused as to what he may want. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” In the lighting, for just a moment, Dustin looks up at you and he’s the nine year old little boy who once feared you would get lost in your mother’s grief and father’s anger.

The last icy tendrils of shock melt, you come back to yourself when you hear your little brother’s fear for his sister. Taking Dustin’s hand into yours, you squeeze it. “Of course I’m okay. I have you.”

Dustin laughs softly, relief evident within his exhale, and you yank his hat off of his head to break the remaining tension away. He lunges for it, betrayed, though he laughs again anyways, and for a few seconds it’s just the two of you giggling to yourselves as you fight over the hat.

“Are you two shitbirds coming, or do I gotta kill those Commies on my own?” Erica shouts, now on the other side of the air duct.

With one last tug, Dustin tears the hat from your grasp and sticks his tongue out at you. “Last one to Erica owes the other $5!” He starts speed crawling towards the girl, giving you absolutely no chance of winning, and you hang your head in defeat and sigh.

The fucker owes you so much money already.

–

It takes hours.

Back aching and knees bruised, you crawl behind the kids in the seemingly endless maze that resides in the facility’s air ducts. It’s similar to the tunnels you walked through what feels like years ago originally, with Steve holding your hand through it all, though you know it couldn’t have been less than a day ago now.

The entire time, your mind doesn’t once quiet its concern for Steve and Robin. Just when the pounding in your head becomes splitting, Dustin stops you and Erica.

“Y/N, help me remove the vent.”

“Why, what’s up there?” You’re next to him, squinting through the grate’s small holes. All you see are what appear to be a line of vaults, though it’s hard to tell. “I don’t see anyone.”

Dustin starts prying at the vent. “Exactly, there’s no one up there and look, can’t you see it?”

You squint again, getting even closer to the holes to peer inside. Something glows bright green on one of the vault’s shelfs. “Is that…?”

“Uh huh. Now help me, will you?”

It takes a minute or so before you’re able to pry the vent open. Together, the two of you slowly lift your heads through the opening and look around. The room you’ve ended up in is empty. Along its walls are rows of vaults with multiple vials of the green chemicals you found in the elevator.

You’re not entirely sure what your brother has in mind, but you know it can’t be anything good.

“Jackpot!” Dustin breathes out with newfound exhilaration. He climbs out of the air duct first and eagerly starts looking around while you help Erica out.

The two kids look around in amazement, but you survey the area out of habit. It’s too quiet within the room. Being so close to the chemicals again leaves you on edge. “Stay close to me, we don’t know who could be nearby–”

“Oh!” Dustin abandons your caution in a heartbeat. He starts running down the steps, and when you see what’s gotten him so excited, you follow after him. There’s a cart right at the bottom of the stairs, parked to the side without anyone in it.

It could be your ticket out of here, if you’re lucky.

“Do you even know how to drive?” Erica teases Dustin, but you step past her and join him to inspect the vehicle.

He waves an indifferent hand at her. “How hard can it be? Max did it.”

“That was the worst car ride of my life” You shiver at the memory. The taste of blood fills your mouth and you can almost feel the bruises again. Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus. “Think you could hotwire this?”

Dustin furrows his brows and ducks his head under the wheel. He shuffles around, mumbling to himself, before he curses. “No, it’s one of those fancy, expensive carts. Which is goddamn ironic for people who hate wealth. We need a key.”

“Okay, that’s not how Communism necessarily works–”

“Did you two seriously think they’d leave keys in there?” Erica interrupts you, cutting straight to the point as she always does.

Dustin starts digging around the cart now. He checks the mirror compartment, under the seat, wherever his hands can reach. “There’s gotta be a spare…” When he comes up with nothing, he shoves you out of the cart. “Go and look inside the vault room.”

“A ‘please’ wouldn’t hurt.” Though you do as you’re told, trusting that the room is secure enough to leave him and Erica alone for a few minutes as you look.

There are vials everywhere, but no signs of a spare key. You wander the rows, the green liquid glows ominously. Drawing your face closer to one of the vials, the liquid bubbles in its glass container. This small, inconspicuous vial is what melted cement back at the elevator.

An idea comes to you.

“Dustin,” you call over your shoulder, eyes still on the chemical. “What if we grabbed some of these vials and used them as some kind of weapon? I mean, it’s some pretty powerful stuff.” No one responds, which you frown at. It’s then that you realize it’s become suspiciously quiet, and with your heartbeat in your throat, you run back towards the kids.

You find Dustin with spare keys in his hand, a proud smile on his face. “Found ‘em.”

“I’m going to start making you pay me every time you give me a goddamn heart attack.” A hand rests against your chest as you try to lower your heart rate. “I mean, this just can’t be good for me–”

A loud, spine tingling crack of electricity zaps behind you.

Screaming, you jump at the noise and into Dustin’s side. You both turn around, coming face to face with a giant electric prod held by a smiling Erica.

“What the hell is that?” Dustin shouts at her, fear still in his voice.

“A deadly weapon.” She zaps it again and the sound is deafening. “Could be useful.”

Both hands on your chest now, you hunch over and try to not to have a heart attack right then and there. “You kids are going to kill me one day.” You swallow, take a deep breath. “God, why can’t we stick with knives? They’re quiet, quaint. Not at all terrifying.”

“Knives against Commies? I thought you wanted to save your boyfriend, Y/N.” Erica swings the prod as she speaks and you hold your hands up.

“Let’s not swing that around, okay? The last thing I need today is to be electrocuted by that thing.” When she lowers the prod, you continue. “But… you should keep it. It’ll be useful for saving Steve and Robin.”

Dustin steps in front of you. “Wait a minute, aren’t you always lecturing me about being realistic? We don’t even know where they are.”

“And aren’t you always lecturing me about putting the party first?” You can’t believe that Dustin isn’t tearing the place apart to find Steve. “We can’t just leave them here. No way you think I’d let you do that.”

“But there are a million guards up there with weapons way deadlier than that!” He points at Erica’s electric prod. He starts walking towards the cart, keys in hand, and beckons you to get inside it as well. “Admit it, the best thing we can do for them is get out of here and find help. Our chance of surviving, and theirs, rises substantially.”

“No.” You don’t step foot in the cart.

“Just trust me on this.” Dustin tries to get you into the cart, but you plant your feet on the ground and refuse to move. “Y/N, please don’t be difficult right now.”

“I said no.” Your voice hardens. Dustin has never been one to back away from a challenge, and yet here he is. Accepting defeat and leaving Steve and Robin to suffer the consequences of it. You’ve always been the first to stand behind realism, to denounce insane ideas and stunts that the party always manages to get itself into, but this time it’s different.

Somewhere within these walls, your friends are facing unimaginable terrors. They sacrificed themselves to save you and the kids. Once again, Steve Harrington has saved your life.

And you’ve always evened out your debts to him.

“We’re going to look for them.” You walk back into the vault room and start grabbing vial after vial of chemicals. There’s an air of authority in your demeanor, daring the kids to argue with you. You’re taking control now after being numb for so long. Dustin follows you, tries to argue, but you continue grabbing vials from the shelves as a plan forms in your head. “We are going to grab as many of these as we can, load them up into the cart, and then drive around this shithole until we find our friends.”

You shove the vials into Dustin’s arms. He blinks at you, this is the most clear headed he’s seen you since descending down in the elevator. Marching back towards the cart, you place your own vials down. “Then, we are going to use whatever chemical this is to cause a distraction. We’ll melt something, maybe cause a fire. I don’t give a shit what we do. All I know is that we are going to then save our friends and get the fuck out of this hellscape. Do I make myself clear?”

Dustin and Erica stare at you, jaws slacked, both now sitting in the cart. Taking their silence as a yes, you nod, pleased. “Fantastic. Now, my dear brother, start driving or I will. Either way: we’re leaving.”

He gulps and tightens his hands on the steering wheel. When you’ve settled into the back of the vehicle, he starts the cart. “Let’s go, then.”

As Dustin drives, Erica twists in her seat to look at you. She’s impressed, albeit still slightly terrified. “Have you always been so scary?”

“Yes. I just hide it well. Makes it more useful when I need it.”

–

You’ve just finished counting the vials when Erica seems to decide now is an appropriate time to ask invasive questions.

“So what do you see in that hair guy?”

“You mean Steve?” Although, you suppose that hair guy is a pretty good indicator for him.

Erica nods. “Yeah, I just don’t understand how someone like him could impress you. He wears a sailor’s uniform and flings ice cream all day long.”

You’re oddly touched by this, though her description of Steve makes you sad. He’s so much more than just some guy who scoops ice cream. He’s brave, selfless, sensitive, and kind. “Don’t give me too much credit. There’s a lot you don’t know about Steve.”

She makes a disgusted face. “Yuck. It sounds like you love the guy.”

Dustin cringes and looks disgusted as well. He doesn’t want to hear his sister waxing and waning about his friend. “Can we not talk about that right now?”

Erica pinches his side, causing him to nearly crash the cart into the wall. “I’m an inquisitive person and clearly they’re in love. Y/N almost bit your head off when you suggested abandoning him.”

“Okay, I didn’t suggest abandoning him.”

“It’s just the facts!”

They argue, forgetting that you’re there. However, you need the distraction, and talking about Steve has always made you feel braver than you really are. A smile spreads across your face when you think about him. The words spill from your mouth without any effort. “I do love Steve.”

Dustin’s arguing fades away. His eyes meet yours in the cart’s rearview mirror. He already knew that you loved Steve, but to hear you say it, to see the blush that invades your face whenever you talk about him, it makes everything more real. Guilt washes over him. He wanted you to leave the boy you love behind.

“Look,” Dustin sighs. He needs to get this off of his chest. “I’m sorry about telling you to leave Steve and–”

A scream echoes within the hall. It’s feminine, familiar.

“Robin,” your stomach twists. She’s alive. And close. She has to be close if you can hear her screams. You grab Dustin’s shoulder. “Go!”

He slams on the gas and the cart picks up speed. Rounding the corner, he brakes harshly and you’re in yet another hallways. It’s silent, there isn’t anyone there. You close your eyes, you’re close. You can feel it, but you can’t locate them if you don’t know where they are.

“C’mon, Robin, “ you plead. “Help us find you.”

Another scream, this time it sounds even closer.

“That way!” Erica points left, and there’s no time to doubt if she’s right. The three of you jump out the cart and grab the chemicals. Dustin also grabs the electric prod, and then you all start running.

Robin screams again, and this time you can place which door it comes from. Adrenaline rushes through you. You have to work fast. At the end of the hall you see what looks to be an alarm switch on the wall. It wasn’t a part of your plan earlier, but it’ll have to do.

“Erica, go to the switch down there. When I say go, you press it. Alright?” She nods at you, quickening her pace. You turn to Dustin next, grabbing the vials from him. “Get the prod ready. I’ll throw the vials.”

When you get to the door that separates you from Robin, you press your ear against it. Voices are muffled, but still Steve's voice comes through as well. Your heart jumps. He’s with her. He’s alive as well.

Erica stands at the end of the hall and you hold your palm up, signaling her to wait. Looking at Dustin, he nods at you and holds the prod to his chest. Taking a deep breath, you start throwing the vials harshly against the floor.

You use all the anger within you to guide what little strength you have left. The anger drives you, it propels the vials, it shatters them. The chemicals spill everywhere. The cement floor begins to erode away, sizzling. After you’ve thrown your last one, you shout to Erica, “Now!”

Alarms sound overhead. Erica runs back towards you and you shove the kids behind a barrel. Within seconds the hallway fills with Russian guards and they swarm around the melted floor, but you keep your eyes on the door. Silently you beg for your plan to work. The door has to open, whoever is inside has to come and investigate the damage you’ve caused.

An agonizing three seconds pass. Sweat drips down your face. Then, a man comes crashing out of the door. He marches down the hallway and disappears when he turns the corner. As soon as he’s gone, Dustin slams through the door. There’s a man dressed in doctor’s scrubs within the room, but your brother attacks him with the prod and knocks him out quickly.

Erica and Dustin stand over the unconscious man. They’re surprised the plan has worked. Yet all you see is Steve.

Everything else fades away. He’s tied to a chair, his face is bleeding. You run towards him, uncaring about whatever else may be in the room. A whole fucking army of Russians could be standing next to you right now and you still wouldn’t spare them a single glance.

“Oh, honey.” The sentiment drips from your lips as your knife cuts through the rope that binds him. You’re so fucking relieved that he’s okay, that Robin is as well. But there’s so much blood. In your periphery you see a tray with a bone saw on it.

“There’s my pretty girl!” Steve giggles, head lolling to the side as he admires you. “Isn’t she the prettiest, Robin?”

Robin giggles as well, her face just as bruised and bloodied as his. “So pretty!”

“Oh God,” despite their injured state, the two teens are in an unusually good mood. They giggle like school girls, Robin even bats her eyelashes at you. Something is off with them. “How hard did they hit your heads?”

Dustin starts to help you untie Steve. “Get ready to run.” He instructs them with a firm voice. However, Robin and Steve continue to laugh. As if this is all one big joke to them.

They almost seem… drunk.

But there isn’t time to ask any questions. Any minute now the guards will return. You cut the last rope that’s tied around Robin and ask Erica if she can carry her. They’re too loopy to walk straight, you’ll need to help Dustin carry Steve back to the cart.

It takes a lot of yelling, slapping Steve’s hand away from your face as you struggle to drag his limp body to the cart, more bribes for Robin than you ever would’ve imagined, but miraculously you get the two idiots into the cart parked outside.

As soon as they’re secured in the back with you, Dustin steps on the gas and you leave the Russians behind.

“Tried promising you I’d come home, angel.” Steve is sprawled on your lap. His eyes are cloudy, he isn’t quite here with you.

“You didn’t have to say anything. I knew you’d promise me.” You reassure him. Carefully, you brush hair out of his face and you inspect his wounds. The cuts don’t look too deep, but you’re worried he might have yet another concussion. Thankfully, however, the blood has already started to scab over. The worst of it is over, and yet your heart still constricts when you remember that he’s injured because of you. “My poor, sweet honey.”

Steve closes his eyes and hums with content. “I love it when you call me honey.” He rolls onto his side now and nuzzles his bloodied face into your stomach. “Makes me feel special.”

Your fingers find his hair, careful to avoid any bumps and heart swelling at what he’s said. Clearing your throat, you look to Robin who is on your other side. You start checking her over as well. She isn’t as battered as Steve is, though a bruise is forming on her cheek.

When she sees you looking at her, she winks. “I lived!”

“You did,” you squeeze her hand and her head falls against your shoulder. She lets out her own content sigh, and you play with her hair as well. They’re still with you. Still whole and alive.

With Steve and Robin safely wrapped around you, you can finally rest.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

@marvel-and-music @angie2274 @thescoopstroopers @xuimhao @rh1nestonecowg1rl @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @harryssideboobz @cherrycherry19 @mamamakaylamorgan23 @slttygeto @alltoomay @hiraethavis @torntaltos @eeniemeenie @latenightreadingpdf @gayandfairycore @aliceespector @l0ca1ax010t1 @whosyourgnomie @luca-random-stuff @thaliagracesgf @ofallthechemicalboys

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #yall are gonna scream at me #im so excited to see it LMAO

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loveinhawkins · 7 months ago

Text

was this written to solve my own inconsistencies because i keep forgetting Eddie literally hotwired the RV, they don’t need keys, why do you keep mentioning keys, you fool? maybe. do i also think they’d be this stupid? yes. ❤️

“Oh, son of a bitch,” Dustin says, midway to The War Zone.

Steve, who is used to this sort of outburst for things as mild as Dustin forgetting just one out of the eight pens on his person, does not react.

However Eddie—Hellfire rants aside—is not quite as familiar yet. He jumps practically a foot in the air.

“Jesus Christ, what now?”

All Dustin offers by way of explanation is an accusatory, “You,” pointing his finger right in Eddie’s face.

And then Eddie sees what’s dangling from said finger.

“… Oh.”

“What?” Steve says, glancing at the rearview mirror; Eddie quickly blocks Dustin from view, goes right up on his tiptoes and spreads his arms wide, curses when Dustin throws the keys—

—to Max, who catches them one-handed, who gives Eddie a grin that’s not so much pitying as it is evil, and then she—

—throws them to Lucas, and he somehow gets the metal ring to land on his finger, like he’s in a movie, and he twirls them round and round until Max snorts, and he grins like that had been his aim all along.

“Sinclair,” Eddie says, “I am begging you.”

“I’m not hearing much about what’s in it for him,” Erica says.

Aha! Eddie zeroes in on Erica and blocks her from Lucas, like a very unjust game of Keep Away.

“Dude,” Lucas says, affronted, “that’s not fair.”

Eddie has the decency to look a bit ashamed. Not too ashamed to stop because he is a pathetic man, but at least Steve still hasn’t noticed the—

“Lucas,” Erica says, in the aggrieved tones of a sister who’s despaired at him many, many times. “You’re on the basketball team. Just do a pass fake, nerd.”

Lucas feigns to the left, and Eddie falls for it—but, in what he’s sure is a completely unsportsmanlike move, he uses his height to his advantage, jumps…

And drops the keys with a clatter.

Steve must instantly recognise the sound for what it is, because he starts to cackle.

Eddie’s only saving grace is that Steve is driving, so at least he can’t see—

“Eddie’s going, like, super red in the face right now,” Dustin narrates helpfully.

“Scarlet,” Lucas says.

“Vermillion,” Robin pipes up from the floor.

“Ooh,” Dustin, Lucas, and Max chorus, impressed. Jesus Christ, they almost harmonize.

“Yeah, Eddie,” Steve says dryly, “you fucking moron. How did you miss those, it’s not like you had literally anything else on your mind.”

“You’re a real gentleman, Harrington, anyone ever told you that?” Eddie says weakly.

“Maybe once or twice,” Steve says, drawing it out teasingly, as if he means not often enough.

“Well, at least we got on the road,” Nancy says. Her voice quivers like she’s trying not to laugh—perched on the table, eyes shining with amusement. “And it did look pretty cool, Eddie.”

Eddie thinks this is an incredibly generous assessment, considering his main thought while breaking into the RV had been don’t get stuck in the window, Jesus Christ.

And then… like, he didn’t expect Steve to actually come up and watch him hotwire the damn thing, like, with rapt attention, so close that Eddie was kinda concerned he’d electrocute himself instead. Honestly, it was a miracle he got the engine started.

“That’s sweet of you, Wheeler, but I’m self-aware.”

“Since when?” Erica says.

Underneath everyone’s laughter, Steve grins and says, “Hey, don’t worry, man.” He catches Eddie’s eye in the rearview mirror, winks. “It was an educational experience.”

“Oh, wow, your face is even redder.”

“Henderson, I’m gonna put those goddamn keys so far up your ass.”

#in which i kept forgetting what hotwiring actually means so came up with this #they are ridiculous #i love them ❤️#pre steddie #eddie and the party #steddie ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #eddie and dustin #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington

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catherinnn · 9 days ago

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Ok, I have a cute/silly fic request:

Can I get a story where everyone in Hellfire club knows that the reader and Eddie have feelings for each other, so they each come up their own plans to get them together (whether or not Erica is included in this I'll leave up to you). It seems as though each of their plans fail, until they see reader and Eddie out on a date together. They all get so excited that they were successful that the reader and Eddie don't have the heart to tell them they've actually been dating for a while and wanted to wait before telling them. So they just let them believe it was all them.

The Plan Totally Worked!

a/n: Thank you for requesting again babe, i hope you enjoy this! I'm catching up with requests now that have more free time, so if anyone has any, please feel free to write me!

words: 1k

masterlist

“Guess who?” you felt two hands cover your eyes as you were at your locker.

Behind you stands Eddie smirking with a confused Dustin by his side. They were discussing which Lord of the Rings book is their favorite and why, when Eddie ran up to you as soon as he saw you, forgetting all about their topic.

“It’s easy to guess when you’re the one wearing a billion rings” you tease him. He moves his hands as you turn around.

“I forgot you were so smart” he says, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Hey boys” you greet them.

“Hi sweetheart, you look very pretty today” Eddie gives you the cutest grin.

“Hi” Dustin greets you, still pondering about the change of demeanor Eddie suddenly had when he saw you.

“Yeah, obviously he likes her,” Lucas says. “you actually never noticed how flirty and playful he gets when he sees her?”

“Yeah, I mean they do flirt constantly. But they’re still just friends, aren’t they?” Dustin thinks.

“Yeah, I think so” Mike agrees.

“Do you think she likes him too?” Dustin asks.

“She wouldn’t flirt back as much as she does if she didn’t. I say she does” Lucas says as if he’s a relationship expert, which makes Mike roll his eyes.

“Why do we even care?” he asks.

“They’re our friends, and obviously they are too chicken to make a move! We have to help them!” Dustin says, feeling very motivated.

They begin brainstorming a series of plans to get the two of you together.

Like the secret date:

Dustin invited you to meet him at an ice cream shop, he said the rest of the group were coming as well. He also asked you to dress up nice which sounded very random.

Funny enough, none of the guys could make it, only Eddie, who was just as confused as you. Either way, you ordered your ice creams and sat at a table together.

The three boys were watching from the other side of the window of the place, giving each other high fives since the plan seemed to work. That’s when they see Steve and Robin also entering the ice cream shop and joining you two, ruining your ‘date’.

What the boys didn’t know is that since Dustin had told you they were all coming, you also took the liberty to invite Steve and Robin, thinking that you’ll have a nice afternoon all together.

Since that didn’t seem to work, they had to move to plan B:

“Wayne’s birthday is coming up, isn’t it?” Dustin asks Eddie in the middle of lunch.

“Yeah, it is. How did you know?”

“I just remembered you mentioned it… Do you know what to get him?” Dustin acts.

“Like a gift? I was thinking maybe a new hat or another mug” Eddie shrugs.

“Oh come on, that is so bad!” Dustin says and Eddie frowns. “You could do something more meaningful, like bake him a cake!”

When Dustin says that you choke on your drink. “Sorry, I just imagined Eddie baking” you say laughing.

“Yeah, I don’t know what caused the impression that I could ever bake a cake for someone, but it is far from the reality” Eddie tells Dustin.

“Well, why don’t you help him? You like baking, don’t you?” Dustin asks you.

“Yeah, sometimes” you say.

“That’s perfect! And it’s a much better gift!” Dustin sells it.

“It would be a nicer gift than just another hat” you agree.

“You’ll help me? Because I’m lost if I have to do it alone” Eddie asks you.

“Of course I’ll help, I’ll come over to your after school” you say and Eddie nods.

Dustin thinks this is it, there is no way that this didn’t work. He can imagine you telling Eddie how to do everything and then helping him because he’s just not doing it right. Maybe Eddie gets playful and starts teasing you, putting flour on your face and then a battle starts where you end up all messy. Maybe the giggles stop and you realize you’re very close together and then you can’t hide it anymore and you finally kiss.

So, just imagine his surprise when the next day, he doesn’t see you two kissing by your locker when he gets to school. Instead, he finds you two chatting as casual as ever.

“So… how did the baking go?” he asks.

“Really good, she bossed me around all afternoon but we ended up with a decent cake. Wayne loved it” Eddie says.

“Oh, that easy?” Dustin asks, surprised.

“Well, when you have a professional chef helping, it’s easy enough” Eddie teases you.

“Oh shut up, he was surprisingly good too. Maybe it was the motivation he had to then eat the cake” you say.

“It was amazing” Eddie nods.

“That’s good news” Dustin says, still disappointed. “Hey, I was gonna say… you look really nice today” he tells you.

“Aw, thanks-”

“Doesn’t she look nice, Eddie?” Dustin pushes him.

“Uh, yeah. Well, she always does” he says, confused.

“Dude, leave it alone. If it didn’t happen already after all those tries, it’s not gonna happen” Lucas tells Dustin. The two of them are on their bikes, on their way to Mike’s. “Hey, isn’t that Eddie’s van?” He sees it parked in front of a restaurant.

“Oh, yeah, it is! Is he in this place? It seems fancy!”

When they peek in the window they find the two of you cuddled up. You seemed to be chatting and giggling until you kissed.

“Wow! It worked! The plan totally worked!” Dustin cheers.

“Holy shit man! It totally did!”

If they only knew what was actually happening inside the restaurant:

“Happy anniversary, princess” Eddie smiles at you.

“Happy anniversary, baby. I can’t believe it’s been a year already!” you say pleased.

"So... you two have anything you would like to share?" Dustin asks you on Monday at lunch.

“The best year of my life” he flirts before kissing you, he really gets all mushy and corny when you’re alone. You decided to not be those kinds of couples that make out or cuddle in front of all their friends, avoiding PDA as much as you could to not make anyone uncomfortable.

"Umm... no?" you say, confused.

"We can tell us, we saw you two lovebirds!" Lucas chimes in.

"Saw us where?" Eddie asks, just as confused.

"On your date last Friday!"

"Oh yeah, we had dinner" Eddie smiles.

"My plan totally worked!" Dustin says.

"Hey! I helped too!" Lucas complains.

"What plan?" you two go back to confusion.

"You really never noticed? I set you two up! I noticed how much you like each other over these last few months and took control since you were never gonna!" he explains smugly.

"What do you- Ouch!" Eddie starts but you pinch him so he stops.

"You set us up?! That's why you were acting so weird?" you smile when you realize what he was trying to do.

"You're welcome" Dustin throws himself flowers.

"Well, we owe it to you, kid" Eddie says sarcastically.

"What are you on about? They've been dating for a year!" Gareth burstes his bubble.

"Wait what?!"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things

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space-invading-pigeon · 2 years ago

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Everyone jokes about Steve being the babysitter or the mom friend, but no one actually appreciates everything he does until he gets sick. Steve is the epitome of a doting parent; sure, he's only twenty and the seven kids he's adopted aren't actually his in any legal way, but those kids are his pride and fucking joy. Anyone who sees Steve with those kids can tell that he loves them deeply, which is why Steve is the only person in the Party that can convince their parents to allow anything- their parents KNOW that their kids will not only be well looked after, but they'll be genuinely enjoying themselves too.

Because he's a single mom except he's actually just barely out of his teenage years with no kids, he gets a lot of shit from everyone about it; he's known almost exclusively to the Party as Mama Steve (when he isn't in earshot of course). That's all fine by Steve, he always wanted a big family and now he has it. The problems start to appear when the Party realizes that Steve Harrington flat out ignores his own needs until they're so pressing that he's physically unable to do anything.

It all starts when Robin is told by Keith, of all people, that Steve has called in sick. Robin, of course, panics and calls him, and when he doesn't answer she calls Eddie to check on him. He and Steve had gotten closer since spring break, so it wasn't unusual for a member of the party to call either Eddie or Steve to check in on the other.

Eddie checks in to find Steve Harrington, badass warrior prince incarnate, sobbing from a blanket mountain on the couch in his living room. No one has ever actually seen Steve cry before, so Eddie freaks out, but it's just the result of a high fever and watching Old Yeller by himself. After calming the sick man, Eddie managed to coax some medicine into him and call Family Video to let Robin know that, yes, Steve is alive and no, he wasn't going to die of fever, but he only manages to get Steve to sleep by reading to him (Eddie finds it disgustingly adorable, even more so later when Nancy mentions that Steve loves stories but struggles with what he calls "moving letters"). And for the next two weeks, Steve is down for the count. Joyce and Claudia Henderson take turns making sure Steve is alright (Joyce because Steve is one of Her Kids, and Claudia because Steve is the Older Son she never had) while Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin all try to take his place.

By the end of the first day, Nancy calls it quits: Mike is a bullheaded terror who only ever seems to like Will, El, or Eddie, and even then he doesn't always listen to them, so the Wheeler siblings fight even more ferociously than usual. She can't get El or Erica to listen, either; Erica is a force to be reckoned with, and El will only nod passively before doing what she wants anyway. By the end of day three, Jonathan is out. He won't say what happened, but he told Max to be nicer to the Party one time and, ten minutes later, he was tearfully saying that the kids were little monsters.

Robin lasts longer, almost an entire week, by chattering at the kids until they give up and listen to her. She meets her match when Dustin and Erica try to commandeer the Family Video computer again: Dusting sneaks past and almost breaks the computer just trying to get to it while Erica does Erica and argues until Robin the Rambler runs out of words. The morning of day seven is very dark for her.

Eddie, through what he believes to be the universe's acknowledgement of the depth of his affection for Steve and also sheer force of will, lasts the whole two weeks, but just barely. Mike argues over everything, no matter what; Will is skittish at the best of times and disappears constantly (thankfully, not like his Upside Down episodes - the boy just can't stop getting distracted and wandering away from the group), only to reappear directly behind Eddie and scaring him into an early grave; Lucas gets frustrated easily and can never seem to find the right words to communicate his thoughts and feelings, so he snarks and lashes out before awkwardly trying to mend the situation; Erica is so completely herself that it can be dizzying when the full force of that hurricane is directed towards Eddie; Dustin practically follows Eddie around like a little duckling, demanding updates on Steve or ranting about one of his many interests; El spends most of her time with the Party learning about how girls her age act through Max or practicing her braiding on Eddie. The worst of them all, though, is Max. Despite having healed up, she's still in physical therapy to rebuild her muscle strength and dexterity, and her eyesight is bad enough now that there's talk of her getting a service animal. It isn't that she needs a little extra attention that makes her the worst, though: it's that somehow, she still chases the most mischief. Eddie has only narrowly managed to keep her from assaulting no less that nine people in the two weeks that Steve is sick, and he knows she's definitely tried to commit arson at least twice that often.

Finally, after two weeks, Steve feels better enough to return to his usual activity, and Eddie begs him to never get sick again.

#steve harrington #babysitter steve harrington #steddie #the party #stranger things headcanons #mike wheeler #will byers #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #max mayfield #dustin henderson #eleven #el hopper #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle

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lilghostiequinni · 6 months ago

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Not As it Seemed to Be

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: private(secret)!female oc (Erica) x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy, Established relationship, Pregnancy talk

Summary: Lando has been one to keep his personal life only slightly private and not be able to keep a secret at all, but what happens when the whole world learns of her.

Requested: NO / yes

Erica lays in bed, running her fingers through Lando's hair, lost in thought.

Her fingers stop, even though it's momentarily, "Why'd you stop?"

"Just lost in thought," Erica looks down to Lando, who still has his eyes closed as he rests his head on her very prominent pregnant belly.

"What should we name them?" Lando questions, looking up to at her, head still on her belly.

"Should we go full Star Wars?" Erica jokes with a smile as Lando makes a face at the suggestion. "What, you don't like it?"

Lando just looks at her.

"Alright, I was thinking we make a list, pick the ones we like, and get it down to a first and middle name," Erica says, and Lando nods into her side as there's movement, then a kick to the face.

Erica starts laughing as Lando looks offended at her belly, rubbing his cheek, even if it didn't really do anything.

"Up, I've got to pee," Erica says, patting Lando on the forehead.

Lando sits up and Erica calls out as she reaches the bathroom, "You should start to get ready, we've only got an hour until you need to be at the track."

Lando looks over to the clock and realizes she's right. He gives one final sigh and gets out of bed.

It doesn't take long before they leave the hotel; they are both trying to hurry and leave the hotel on time.

Lando walks into the paddock with Erica on his arm and her pregnant belly prominent in the outfit she wore to show it off.

"Lando, this a friend of yours?" Carlos asked; he was the first of the drivers to get to them.

"No, she's my girlfriend," Lando says to him as he puts his arm around Erica's shoulder, his hand hanging over her shoulder for her to grab hold of with her free hand.

"For how long?" Carlos questions, having been his former teammate and never heard of her, he didn't know how long this was going on, though he does remember seeing her around the paddock, even more in the last year.

"Since we were 17, so almost ten years," Lando says as Erica looks around.

"I'm sorry, baby, but I really need the bathroom," Erica tells Lando, who lets go over her as she waddles over to the restrooms she had seen.

"You didn't mention her before," Carlos points out, rather confused.

"Yeah, when we met, she was busy, so never around the paddock, and most people thought she was just a friend, not my girlfriend, and I just never corrected them because she didn't need the attention for it," Lando says, a shrug of his shoulders as he looks toward where Erica went to.

Oscar walked into the paddock, saw Lando with Carlos, and approached them as Erica returned from the bathroom.

Hey Erica," Oscar says as he stops next to her and they continue together back to Lando and Carlos.

Which is when Carlos asked if Oscar knew about Erica, "I know her as Lando's best friend, why?"

"Because she's my very pregnant girlfriend that I didn't announce publicly and have announced," Lando says as Erica tucks back under his arm.

"We enjoyed the privacy, especially now," Erica says as she rubs her belly, and Lando moves his hand over to hers, smiling down at her.

Oscar watched them and realized that he had noticed their relationship before but never thought much of it.

It was later that day that fans started to notice that Erica was pregnant and Lando was acting as more than a friend and more like a soon-to-be father and a boyfriend.

Fans then started to put their predictions online, and eventually, Erica found an edit made within hours of all the times that people noticed that she and Lando were more than friends.

For the most part, the response to your "secret" relationship was relatively positive.

After the race, in the media pen it was the first question got that asked about Erica, "So you came in today with Erica, a long-time friend, but she's pregnant, and you seemed more like a boyfriend or father than a friend."

"What's the question?" Lando asks, not hearing a question in all of what the interviewer said.

"My question is, what's going on? Is she your friend, your girlfriend?"

"Erica is my girlfriend and has been for the better part of the last ten years. Erica was my girlfriend when I started Formula One when there were rumors of me with one of her friends. She's been with me through my ups and downs; she was there for my win in Miami last year, and she was there for Barcelona. She's my rock," Lando says to the interviewer, the smile and adoration in his eyes growing with each word he says.

"And she's pregnant?"

"Yes, we are having twins," Lando says, nodding along with his statement.

"Just one last question about this before we get on to race questions is, why have you never said anything about her, Erica being your girlfriend?"

"When I started racing in Formula One, she didn't need the extra attention on her as she was starting college, and with me constantly moving and her having to stay on campus, it was hard enough. The media and fans weren't needed in our relationship dynamic. Then afterward, especially in this last year, I just never corrected people because I loved the bliss of having this little piece of me out of the media," Lando says as he grows more serious in his explication.

"Alright, then. Now, how does it feel to win today with the world and fans knowing that Erica is your girlfriend and you will soon have two kids who are going to be so proud of their dad for winning?"

"Amazing," Lando is then directed to a different interviewer with a smile on his face as he leaves.

Lando knows that his children will be proud of him because they are not just part of him but also part of Erica, and she's always proud of Lando and always there when he needs her.

To the public things were not as they seemed, but that is never what mattered to Lando and Erica.

A/N: Only been working on this one for about three weeks.

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

#f1 #formula 1 #ln4 #lando norris #mclaren #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x oc #lando norris x you #lnfour

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morganbritton132 · 2 years ago

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I love the newer teachers not knowing who Eddie is and visiting Steve at his house and wondering how they can afford such a nice house. I can imagine that they live in a house way above a teachers salary, much less a teacher with presumably, a lot of medical bills. They see gold records hanging on the walls and all of Eddie’s awards on a bookshelf and they are trying to connect the dots to who Eddie is.

David’s first impression of Steve is, admittedly, not great.

He was hired as a long-term substitute halfway through the school year and technically, Mr. Harrington was the only teacher on their floor not to introduce himself to him. They’re supposed to cover the eighth grade lunch period together, but Steve hasn’t shown up once since David was started three days ago.

Instead, the principal covered for him.

Cindy McCullen, the gossipy history teacher across the hall from him, says that it’s because of favoritism. She says that Principal Moreno always lets her favorites run rampant around the school and lets them do whatever they want, especially if they’re tenured. Steve Harrington is the most egregious example of blatant favoritism.

David starts to form an opinion about Mr. Harrington in his mind that only gets worse with every story he hears from Cindy. So, it’s a bit of a shock when Steve shows up for lunch duty the next day with a whole ass service dog.

He feels like an asshole.

Especially because Steve is so apologetic about missing the last three days and leaving David to ‘the wolves’ during his first week, “Is this your first teaching job? I’ve heard from the kids that you’re doing great!”

He makes a conscious effort after that to get to know Steve and to stop letting other people form his opinions for him. Though, admittedly. He kinda fucks that up too.

The first time David meets Eddie, he thinks that he’s Steve’s brother.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t talk about his life outside of work. It’s just that he doesn’t go into a lot a detail. David knows that he’s married to a man, that he’s from Indiana originally, and he might have a kid. Maybe? A girl name Erica that tells him what a brony is and how they ruin everything.

Hell, David’s not even entirely sure he knows what Ozzy is in service of. Steve just said that he bumped his head one too many times and now he has a dog so his husband stops worrying so much.

The only surefire thing that David knows is that Steve has a brother that’s a bit of a dork. He has great hair and is really smart, but lacks tact. Steve loves him. You can tell by the way that he talks about the guy.

So one day, David is in the teacher’s lounge heating up a cup of Easy Mac while Steve is sitting with his head down at one of the tables. He’s about to suggest that Steve go home and sleep off whatever cold he has when a guy with long hair and a leather jacket sticks his head in the room and declares, “You look like shit.”

Steve doesn’t even lift his head when he flips him off which is – whoa, not something that David would expect from Mr. Harrington. He makes himself busy with stirring his mac and cheese while the two bicker with each other which is, admittedly, childish.

Leather Jacket’s main argument for why Steve has to listen to him and go home is because he’s older. Steve croaks out that that is bullshit and Leather Jacket threatens to call their Uncle Wayne if Steve doesn’t listen. He eventually agrees.

Before they leave, Leather Jacket sticks his hand out to David and introduces himself as the cooler Mr. Harrington (that gets a laugh out of Steve).

So, color him shocked when Steve invites their event committee over to his house.

David hasn’t even fully gotten over how nice of a neighborhood Steve lives in on a teacher and retiree’s salary when Leather Jacket gets introduced as Eddie, the husband Steve has mentioned. Then he just casually mentions a red carpet like, what?

And the craziest part is that he’s asked about his husband before!

Steve mentioned once that his husband was out of town and when David asked what he did for work, Steve said that he was retired. He said that his husband can play guitar and that one of their friends (James Hetfield) needed a last minute guitarist for some kind of fair (Coachella) so Eddie went to help out.

He definitely worded it like playing guitar was just a hobby that his husband has, not like. Not like platinum records lining the hallway to their bathroom or the picture of Steve and Eddie in Vegas with KISS stuck to the fridge. He swears the note on the dry erase board by the garage entrance signed ‘Dave’ is in Dave Grohl’s handwriting.

There’s an Grammy on the bookshelf by the fireplace.

Who the hell is Steve Harrington?

Better question: Who the hell is Eddie Munson?

Kathy laughs the entire drive to her house and she is still laughing when he drops her off. The only thing she says that could even be considered an answer is, “I think he’s on Tiktok. Start there.”

#Day 2 of not really answering the prompt #I thought that it’d be funny if Steve was so casual about Eddie’s fame that it comes off like his husband plays Wonderwall in their garage #and then the rest of this was written #I like to imagine that David goes back to school and gossips with the other first year teachers and all try to figure out who Steve is on #their lunch breaks. they all nearly lose it when they find an article about the Starcourt Mall fire and Steve was mentioned in it #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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sunshine-daisies-library · 5 months ago

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Speak Now | Steve Harrington x Fem!Ex!Reader

Summary: You were called in as a last ditch effort by Dustin to convince Steve to back out of an arranged marriage with Kimberly Astor, the heiress of a multi-million dollar company. Only issue is that you were uninvited to the affair, but the kids you used to babysit have another plan.

Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, drug abuse, exes to lovers

Based on Taylor Swift's song, Speak Now <3

You shouldn’t be here. You’re being serious, you really shouldn’t be here. But when Dustin called you and pleaded for you to drive over two hours from Chicago to your hometown, you knew this wasn’t a call to ignore. You weren’t the type of girl to barge in on a wedding.

But then again, you knew Steve wasn’t the type of boy to marry the wrong girl.

“Thank God you came,” Dustin runs over to throw his arms around you. He lets out a sigh of relief as he tosses his entire weight onto you. You stagger back as you try to keep him standing, but it had been far too long since you had seen the boy, he had grown faster than you expected. Three years was enough for him to shoot up and tower over you. No longer was he the short curly haired boy you watched over on weekdays to get some pocket money to go on dates with Steve. Now, he’s nearly an adult, packing his things for college and using his free time to call his favorite people: you and Steve. Separately, of course, because you two were no longer a thing.

“You called,” you respond, pulling away. “Besides, it gives me a reason to see you munchkins again.”

“I think we hardly classify as munchkins now,” you hear a voice from behind you. In comes the gang of kids you used to spend nearly every waking day with, all visibly older and dressed fancily for the occasion. Mike, the voice you recognized, leads the group and comes to hug you first.

You can barely reach up to hug him. “Mike!” you exclaim. “Jesus, you’ve gotten so big.”

Max steps forward and gives you a small smile, never the one for physical contact after everything that happened. Her glasses frame her face beautifully, and her matured features cause your eyes to water. “Enough of the waterworks,” she tells you firmly. Max cocks her head at the bride’s family, all dressed in tacky pastels. The mom swats at her youngest son’s hand as she pushes his blond hair back. “We have more shit to deal with now.”

“Is she that bad?” you ask your friends.

Will grimaces along with Lucas and his far from little sister. Erica was never one for hiding her emotions on her face, and that habit seemed to have stuck as she aged. “She was just yelling at some bridesmaid,” Will replies with a sigh. “Pretty sure it was Steve’s cousin, too.”

“She looks like a pastry,” Eleven deadpans, causing Max to elbow her.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh at Eleven’s directness. Things never change, you suppose. “Where is he?”

Everyone knew who he was. It was the very reason why you drove all this way.

“No clue,” Dustin answers, hands shoved in his pockets. “Kimberly has been bothering him about everything needing to be perfect,” Dustin’s voice went high-pitched and unbearable to imitate the rich heiress Steve called his fiance.

You never knew why Steve got himself into this. Pleasing his parents was the last thing he ever wanted to do while you were dating. What happened in the three years of leaving Hawkins that made him switch up? This wasn’t the Steve you knew, and you knew from the moment Dustin called that you had to stop Steve from ruining his life.

Music starts to play, ringing through the halls of the gothic church you were standing in the middle of. The wedding was starting soon. The bells and gonging sound eerily similar to the sounds of the grandfather clock Max vividly described when she was in the hospital after Vecna’s attack. It sends shivers down your spine but you quickly regain your composure.

“We gotta go,” Max informs you. “Steve made sure to get us seats in the front. You’ll be okay from here?”

“Yeah,” you reassure them. “I’ll be fine, promise.” Parting ways, you spend the last few minutes looking around for that familiar mop of brown hair. In the distance, you see him and he instantly takes your breath away.

He’s wearing a pressed suit that shows no sign of wrinkles or age. It’s definitely new and tailored for him, no doubt thanks to his mother. In his suit pocket is a neatly folded white pocket square, and beside it was a freshly picked rose pinned to his breast. He looks like a daydream, but deep down, you knew he was living his worst nightmare.

This was all wrong. He hates stiff suits and having his hair slicked back. He never wanted a fancy and lavish affair for a wedding; he always wanted it to be intimate and surrounded by his loved ones and definitely not his snotty relatives. And Steve hated roses. It reminded him too much of his parents’ materialistic relationship. The one where his mom thought it was perfectly suitable to drink her problems away with wine and the occasional scotch. It was also the one where his dad would just shower his mom with designer purses and roses whenever she found out he was sleeping with yet another unreasonably young secretary.

A pained expression rests on Steve’s face as he trails behind the minister. You call out to him through the sea of people. After the third call, he finally perks his ears at your voice and turns to face your direction. A look of surprise replaces his sullen expression. It’s been three years since he’s last seen you. Three years since you broke things off to move to Chicago. How did you end up back in Hawkins?

‘What are you doing here?’ he mouths to you.

You’re weaving through the crowd, trying to get to him. ‘Saving you,’ you mouth back.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, but before he can do anything about it, he’s nudged forward by a groomsman. Reluctantly, Steve moves forward and walks down the aisle.

You don’t lose sight of Steve, hiding expertly behind the curtains as the procession continues. He walks down the aisle to the organ’s music that reminds you of a death march. You closely watch the rest of the members of the family follow behind Steve. You were so concentrated on the procession that you didn’t realize Will’s older brother standing behind you.

“L/N what are you doing here?” Jonathan whispers.

You jump in shock, gripping the dusty white curtain close to your chest. “Jonathan!” you whisper-shouted. “Nearly scared the shit out of me. I’m here to stop a wedding.”

“Where do you need me?” Jonathan instantly asks. You cock an eyebrow at his eagerness. “Listen, I’ve met Kimberly. Steve and I were never best buds, but I’m not going to let him toss his life away for a nasty person like her. Especially not when you’ve loved him all this time.”

You open your mouth to correct him but Jonathan is quick to cut you off. “Cut the bull, N/N, we both know the truth. You never stopped loving Harrington, but what I can’t wrap my head around is why you left him?”

“I wasn’t going to string Steve along for a hopeless long distance relationship,” you shoot back. “I had to move to Chicago for my job. I knew Steve would come with me no matter what I said, so I cut things off.”

Jonathan presses his lips together in a thin line but doesn’t say anything else about the topic. “Why are you hiding, anyway?”

You roll your eyes, peering over the curtains to see the flower girls tossing petals along the pathway. “Seems like I was uninvited by his lovely bride-to-be.”

The music instantly changes as Kimberly walks out in her enormous dress. Her face exudes class and elegance as she takes calculated steps down the aisle. “Fucking pageant queen,” Jonathan mutters under his breath.

“She looks beautiful,” you compliment shortly. That’s all you’re willing to say about her. From a distance Steve is looking through his bride, eyes only on you. He wishes the one walking down this aisle was you.

The rest of the ceremony is a blur to you. Words go in your ear and out the other, and you almost didn’t realize the most important part of the wedding has started.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony,” the minister read aloud from his book. “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Taking a deep breath, you emerge from the curtains and raise your hand.

Horrified looks from everyone in the room but you only look at Steve. Relief floods his face and his shoulders finally relax.

“You don’t want this,” you speak directly to him. “I know you, Steve. You don’t want any of this.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Kimberly cuts in, facing the minister. “Steven wants this. Right, Steven?”

“For the last time, my name is Steve,” Steve huffs at his now-ex-fiance. “And I don’t want this. I just want you.” His chocolate brown eyes peer over at you, and a small smile reaches his lips. “I’ll meet you out the back door.”

Following his instructions, you run out of the church, dodging angry relatives and their shouts. Keys in hand, you hop into your car and start the engine. Pulling out of your spot, you drive down to the back door where Steve is. You quickly unlock the door as Steve practically jumps in, avoiding the yells of the bridesmaids and dodging the bouquets tossed at his head.

Steve lets out an exhausted huff as he loosens his tie. A giddy smile is on his face as he looks back at you. You can’t help but share a similar expression as you step on the gas.

“Thanks for saving my neck out there,” Steve tells you gratefully.

“Anything for you,” you respond, glancing over at him. He still looks the same as ever, if not more handsome. Your heart honestly never stopped beating for him. “If I didn’t make it clear earlier,” you clear your throat awkwardly. “I’m still in love with you, Harrington.”

Silence follows and you can feel your heart beating out of your chest. Soon enough, your worries are calmed when Steve takes one of your hands off the wheel and covers it with his.

“I got that, dummy,” he chuckles softly.

You sigh in relief, laughing quietly along, too. “So, where to?”

You couldn’t get the glint in his eye off your mind when he smiles at you.

“Where’s the nearest chapel?”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington fic recs #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year ago

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Disturbing the Peace

Summary: You're keeping a secret from Ari - one that you'll have to tell him about eventually. Right?

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death, Pet Names, Corporate Intimidation, Anxious Reader, Cursing, Minors DNI.

A/N: Takes place earlier in my Sweet Renegades Series timeline. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You stare down at the notice in your hands, your mouth suddenly dry as your eyes proceed to scan the words on the page for the third time. You’d found it wedged between your doors only moments ago after closing down your shop for the night.

Which meant someone had been out there watching – waiting – for the right moment to strike. Without the benefit of an audience. Fucking coward.

Even still, that fact unnerved you to no end. Especially since the piece of paper you were holding seemed different from the others you’d received over the previous months. They’d been polite and professional, albeit a bit pushy.

But not this one.

This letter was short and to the point. Greystone & Reeves Real Estate Group was done beating around the bush. They were giving you one last chance to meet so that the two of you could finally begin discussing the terms of the sale of your beloved shop, Baubles & Quills.

The one thing you’d promised your late uncle, Lenny, you’d never do.

But unfortunately for you, that didn’t seem to matter overly much to the pushy group. They were clearly tired of being ignored - a tactic that you’d employed with them from the beginning.

When you’d first received a letter from them you’d laughed it off before crumbling it up and tossing it in the trash. You’d also done the same with the second. But by the time you’d received the third you’d been hoppin’ mad. So mad that you’d left a less than polite voicemail with their receptionist telling them that their entire company could “suck dirt and die”, because that’s exactly what you would do before you ever thought about signing away the deed to your shop.

After that, things were quiet for a time. So quiet that you forgot all about that stupid Greystone and his dimwitted lackey, Reeves. In fact, the last time you’d heard anything from them had been right after Ari had rolled into town.

Come to think of it, you’d actually lit that letter on fire while wishing you could do the same to their headquarters – wherever they seemed to be located. Oddly enough, you hadn’t actually been able to dig up much about them online. Just that they seemed to have set up shop in several different counties surrounding Bell’s Creek.

You couldn’t make heads nor tails of why they were so interested in your property or your land. But at the end of the day, their motivations didn’t really matter.

Because you weren’t fucking selling. Not now, not ever.

Baubles & Quills wasn’t just your place of business, but also your refuge. It was part of the legacy your uncle had left behind as a gift to the little girl who had spent so much of her childhood curled up in the overstuffed armchair in his office with her nose buried in a book.

Long story short, you’d made a promise to the man who’d loved you like a daughter. And you intended to keep it.

So, tomorrow you’d call Greystone & Reeves and threaten them with whatever your paralegal buddy, Erica, suggested. You’d been meaning to call her anyway so that you two could catch-up on life, as well as all things related to Mr. Ari “Beast” Levinson.

The sound of your phone ringing suddenly breaks the silence, giving you a mini-heart attack in the process. You can tell by the ringtone that it’s Ari on the other end, which has you answering without hesitation.

“Uh, hey.” You cough out, shaking your head as you try to clear your mind. “What’s up, Beast?” You do your best to keep your tone light and breezy, not wanting him to pick up on your distress.

Mostly because you’d never thought to mention any of the threatening letters you’d received over the last several months. Even when Ari had stopped by that one fine day to interrogate you about your relationship with Martin you’d chosen to keep that piece of information close to the vest.

After all, it wasn’t like your Bounty Hunter could do much about it anyway. Not to mention that you’d had no idea that your relationship would ultimately progress the way it did.

Bottom line: nobody needed to know, least of all your handsome Beast. Wait. Except for Erica. She could know. Because otherwise, how else would she be able to tell you what scary things to say?

It’s only then when you hear your name on the other line that you realize your thoughts must’ve wandered. “I’m sorry, babe. Can you please repeat that?” You mutter, scrubbing a tired hand over your face. “It’s been a long day and I’m afraid my mind is already worrying about tomorrow’s delivery.”

There was no delivery slated for tomorrow, but a little white lie never hurt anyone. Right?

“S’alright, little Bird. I know you’re tired but – wait. I thought you weren’t expecting any more deliveries for the rest of the month?” The sound of his deep, slightly roughened voice has your pulse quickening as a fresh wave of heat pools in your belly.

“I…” You trail off, your fingers coming to pinch the bridge of your nose. Serves you right for trying to lie to the one man who actually paid attention to 99.9% of the shit that you said on a daily fucking basis.

“Guess I forgot.” You finish lamely, tucking the phone between your shoulder and your ear so that you can get moving. “I’m about to leave Baubles, though. Am I still picking us up something from Holtman’s Diner or did you change your mind?"

“Holtman’s is fine, baby.” Ari responds after a couple of seconds. “But are you sure you’re okay?”

And there it was. Granted, it didn’t sound like suspicion so much as it did concern…

But still.

“I’m great, Beast. Pinky promise.”

Gritting your teeth you return your attention to the stupid piece of paper in front of you. But instead of balling it up and tossing it into the garbage, you decide to neatly fold it and tuck it into your purse.

Next you pull out your keys, followed by your handy dandy taser. And just to be safe, you decide to go ahead and swipe the nearby exacto knife sitting on an unopened box containing some random celebrity’s latest memoir.

“I still think you sound funny, Duchess.”

Fuck, this man – your man – was like a goddamned bloodhound. And once he caught a scent he didn’t give up until he had his prey cornered and ready to spill their guts.

“Augh!” You hiss as you sling your purse over one shoulder before collecting the rest of your things. “Sweetheart, I just told you I’m tired. That’s literally it. Hold on while I get the alarm.” Biting your lip you type in the passcode needed to arm your system before swiftly unlocking and exiting through the front.

“I’m all set now. About to jump into my ride and head to Holtman’s.” Of course, you’re quick to interrupt when he attempts to turn the focus back to you. “Tell me about your day, handsome.”

Ari did not need to know that you were hovering just outside of fight or flight mode, which is why you currently had your semi-legal taser at the ready. Plus the knife and the tiny container of pepper spray hooked on your keyring.

Now that had been a gift from Ari.

Keeping your head on a swivel, you make quick work of locking everything back up before making a mad dash to your vehicle. An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you continue to scan the empty lot, searching for any signs of life.

“Yeah?” You grunt as you throw yourself into your car before locking yourself in. “Well, maybe I can try working that knot out of your shoulder later.” With shaking hands you push the start button in your car and wait for your call to connect with your bluetooth. Thankfully it doesn’t take long. “And yes, please. You have my explicit permission to repay the favor, you ridiculous man.”

Oh goodness, I can’t breathe. Mary, Jesus, Joseph, help!

Body hunched, you Immediately you peel out of the lot and turn onto a main road. Now that you’re safe, you cast a glance in your rearview mirror, feeling grateful when you don’t see anything – save for a couple of raccoons hoping to get their hands on some garbage.

“Woo!” You shout, triumphantly punching the roof of your car. “Hell yeah!” You’d officially made it out, which meant that you would hopefully live to fight another day.

“Huh?” Ari growls into the receiver.

“Um, I just say two baby blue mini-coopers drive down the road. Must be good luck, ya know?”

“Right.” He doesn’t sound very convinced.

“And I just remembered that tonight’s special involves their homemade mashed potatoes and meatloaf. Still sound good?“ Without taking your eyes off the road, you drop the taser back into the center console of your car.

“Fine by me then.” Your Bounty Hunter replies, his response sounding just shy of frustrated. But I choose to ignore in favor of simply acting like tonight was okay, even when it wasn’t. “Be safe getting here. And if you change your mind about wanting to talk…”

“Nope.”

After that you hang up and head to the diner, snagging you both a couple pieces of homemade pie to go with your food. A bit to eat and naked cuddles with your man would make things better. At least for a little bit.

And quite honestly, you’d take what could get these days. The universe at least owed you that much.

END

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lfzyxf · 7 months ago

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What it’s like being best friends with Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski in season one and two

In season one it’s really just the three of you together, always. I like to think that in most situations it would be you and Stiles ganging up against Scott together.

Weekly hangouts at Scotts place. Melissa would definitely be like a mother to both you and Stiles. Similarly, I’d say Stiles’ dad would be like a father to you. It doesn’t matter if you already have parents, good or bad. They’d still always be there for you.

Gossip sessions during lunch. I know Stiles hears everything, there is no way he wouldn’t know all the juicy stuff going on at school.

Supporting Stiles’ crush on Lydia…Poor guy needs all the help he can get with it. And obviously helping Scott the same way once he meets Allison.

When Scott gets bitten everything does change for your small group. Scott changes, physically and mentally. New people start joining you guys at lunch. Its not just the three of you anymore. I think it might wear you out a bit… All the dynamics suddenly changing.

It would be Stiles who notices first, making sure you know they still love you. Promising to always be your best friends. He’d probably end up telling Scott who then drags you into the group more. Introducing you again, trying to let everyone know more about you.

During season two you’re much closer to all the others as well. Maybe you even end up hanging out with Allison and Lydia every week as well?

When Derek starts turning more teenagers Scott would definitely threaten Derek to stay away from you. He already knows Stiles doesn’t want to be bitten, but maybe he would see you as a possible target.

They get so protective when Isaac comes back to school. They’ll keep you away from the two new wolves, doing their best not to leave your side.

And don’t even mention how protective they are about the whole kanima situation. Yes, they know you can handle yourself, but this is a snake like monster with venom in its claws. They are not leaving you, end of discussion.

Personally, I would still try to befriend Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. I’ve always felt bad for them. Scott would try to dissuade you; he’d think it’s too dangerous. But I think Stiles wouldn’t mind too much, though he still wouldn’t want you to be alone with them.

When all that is over and everyone is once again friendly with each other, you would finally become great friends with the three new werewolves.

Overall being friends with Scott and Stiles is kind of a mess… But it’s so worth it. They love you so much and they couldn’t live without you.

Maybe you’d help them stay closer than they end up being in the show.

If you end up dating another werewolf Scott would probably sit you down and have a talk about all the dangers that come with it.

Stiles on the other side has no problem with it at all. If Scott can date Allison, why can’t you date a werewolf? Go you!

And if you end up dating a more…regular person. They would be so happy for you! Though Stiles would make you promise that he is still your number one. Don’t tell Scott.

I don’t think you’d end up getting turned into a werewolf unless you really want to be and get Derek to turn you. Scott would do his best to keep you and Stiles safe and human. But if you really want to become a werewolf, especially for medical reasons, he’ll still support you. At least he’ll know how to help you now.

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #isaac lahey #scott mccall x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #lydia martin #allison argent #derek hale #platonic teen wolf #platonic scott mccall #platonic stiles stilinski

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sundrop-writes · 5 months ago

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Protective

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader

Summary:

During his first full moon, Isaac needs to think of something to ground him - to keep his newfound powers from getting out of control. Derek suggests that he use anger, and he knows that Scott grounds himself with his love for Allison.

Isaac finds something in between - thinking of the anger he feels when you get hurt.

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 9.

Word Count: 2,300

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: canon level violence - mentions of Isaac, Erica, and Boyd having to be chained up on the full moon (to avoid hurting themselves and others), mentions of Isaac's abusive father (somewhat graphic descriptions of the abuse that Isaac experienced); Isaac has a self deprecating inner monologue because of the psychological effects of his father's abuse; mentions of Isaac being injured by his father's abuse; the reader also has an abusive father and it's a point on which they related and bonded (and how they became such close friends); at one point the reader describes her abuse as being 'not as bad' as Isaac's abuse (but that is psychological trauma speaking); mentions of the reader experiencing physical and emotional abuse; reader is described as 'pretty girl' at one point in the fic (again, this is very self indulgent); Isaac has a crush on the reader but has never voiced it (it's implied that the reader feels the same way); Isaac and the reader exchange friendly physical affection; emotional angst - Isaac feels powerless for not being able to stop the reader's abuse; I think that's it for this short fic? The themes are on the darker side, but it comes from a personal place for me.

A/N: If you've been following me for any amount of time, then you know I have a thing for sad, abused characters. If you have read my Ellie fic 'My Heart Is The Worst Kind of Weapon' - then you would know why. Isaac is the kind of character I immediately connect to for deeply personal reasons, so watching the entirety of Teen Wolf through for the first time, I couldn't resist writing a fic about him. There will likely be more to come about him, but for now - here is this deeply self indulgent moment inspired by Season 2, Episode 9. If you don't relate to this, I hope you can enjoy it as a distant whumpy fiction, and if you can relate to it - I hope that Isaac can bring you some comfort like he has for me. Much love, happy reading.

...

While the chains rattled against the abandoned subway car and Isaac tried to ignore Erica’s groans of pain from having several large bolts bored into her head, he couldn’t help the question that was rattling around inside of him.

“How do you do it?” Isaac asked Derek as he arranged the chains around his limbs. He was trying to push down the sickly familiarity of it - being restrained. He was trying to tell himself that it actually was for his own good this time, not just a sick punishment given to him by a powerless, unhinged old man. “How do you keep it under control?”

“You have to find an anchor.” Derek told him, firm, determined.

It was nice to focus on the conversation instead of the anxiety rising in his chest, so Isaac pressed on.

“An anchor?” He questioned, unsure what Derek meant. “Like what?”

“Yeah. Something else for you to focus on. For me it's anger.” Derek paused. “But it's not like that for everyone.”

It was immediately obvious to Isaac who Derek was speaking of.

“Scott.”

He had Allison. It was some dreamy romantic bullshit - using his love for his girlfriend to keep from wolfing out. But apparently, it worked well for him.

Derek gave a subtle nod.

Isaac didn’t have anything like that. He didn’t have some cheesy romance to fall back onto. He didn’t have someone declaring a love for him so openly - because he wasn’t worth loving. Even with his father gone, the world had made it very clear that he was just a piece of shit stuck to the bottom of someone’s shoe - a problem being passed around that nobody could seem to solve.

“It just has to be something strong enough to keep your mind present. A strong feeling you can hold onto. Anger, love, resentment, regret, rage. Just find something that works for you.”

Isaac nodded, and Derek went to check that Erica and Boyd were secure as the moonlight came to its full brightness.

…

It got Isaac thinking about you.

You were probably the one person in his life who didn’t think he was a problem. The one person in his life who loved him, even if you didn’t say it out loud.

He had felt all of those things - anger, love, resentment, regret, rage - the last time he had been with you. When he had been sitting in your bathroom, perched on the closed toilet seat lid after an argument with his father. Naturally, the argument had ended with Isaac having a black eye, and a large cut on his cheek from his father's ring colliding with his face.

You were the only person he ever went to. No matter how bad things got, you were the only person he ever told. You were the only person who ever understood. Isaac had found out the hard way that your own father was much the same as his. On the first day of freshman year, he had seen you wearing a sweater when it had been a balmy, sunny day, and he had volunteered to be lab partners with you - partially to get closer to a pretty girl and partially because a gnawing feeling was going off in his stomach.

Even back then - even when he was scrawny and powerless, his instinct to protect you had still been so strong. Even if all he could offer you was a shoulder to cry on and the chocolate bar out of his lunch, he looked at you and he felt the world turning on the simple hope that he could make your day just a bit better. Because he knew, even without words, by the tiredness in your eyes - that you suffered like he did. And he wanted so badly to make it better.

When the two of you were doing an introductory experiment of baking soda and vinegar to cause the classic foaming volcanic reaction, the rubber gloves you had been wearing caused your sleeve to ride up, revealing a menacing purple bruise on your wrist. Isaac spotted it instantly, and when you locked eyes with him, he held nothing but deep understanding there - not shock or even pity. Nothing but deep understanding and warmth.

He held your hand under the table for the rest of class, and you had never wanted to pull away. You felt a unique kind of mourning when the bell rang and you had to part ways.

At lunch that day, you found him under the bleachers by the lacrosse field. Without so much as a word, only a cursory glance around to make sure that nobody else was watching, he pulled up his shirt, revealing an array of horrifying bruises to you - some purplish, some green, some faded yellow - all collected from different points throughout the summer. The time when he had been trapped at home with his father, having nowhere else to go as the man got more aggravated with his presence.

You ran a gentle touch along the wounds - the most gentle touch he had been greeted with since his mother's death, something that easily brought him to tears. And from that moment on, the two of you had a silent understanding. You spent the rest of the lunch hour exchanging ‘war stories’ and laughing with a tainted dark humor about your separate twisted patriarchs. And the next time he was bloodied and bruised, he texted you to meet him under the bleachers in that same spot, and you didn’t hesitate to rush out of bed at three in the morning to get to him.

It became a sacred place for the two of you to escape to when you needed it.

The two of you became a sacred comfort to each other - knowing that there was little escape in telling the police or a guidance counselor, because you had nowhere else to go.

Today, when Isaac called you, you found your house luckily empty. Your mother and your father were away visiting relatives in another state, so when Isaac told you that he needed you, you texted him the all clear to come over to your house for a reprieve. He was lucky to be able to spend the night somewhere else - to get to sleep in your bed, cuddled up close to you for comfort, without fear.

He tried not to wince with pain as you dabbed disinfectant on the large cut across his cheek. He hated seeing you flinch with empathy every time his expression wavered even slightly. He could handle the pain. He could be better than this.

“Isaac.” You sighed his name pitifully, clearly on the edge of tears.

Both of you knew the thoughts that were pulsing thickly through your head, even without you having to speak them.

Isaac didn’t deserve this. You wanted to hurt his father in return. You wished you could take away his pain, you wanted to help him escape from it.

It was a ‘wishful thinking’ conversation that the two of you had dozens of times before. It always ended with you both more upset than when it started, so you swallowed up those thoughts now. But Isaac knew them too well, written across your face and swollen on your lips like the tears brimming your pretty eyes.

You put down the cotton ball you had been using and turned your back to him, poorly hiding your crying as you stiffly wiped off your cheeks.

“What do you want me to say?” He replied, hating that this whole thing had to upset you. “You know how it is.”

To an extent, you didn't. Your father was a screamer. He yelled loud enough to shake the walls, but he rarely escalated to physical violence. You found that you were lucky if you escaped a fight with death threats and tears rather than having hands laid on you. Isaac came to school with fresh bruises every other week - you had to feel that he was worse off than you were.

“We should just go.” You said, feeling bold in your suggestion. It felt obvious - escaping. “We should just run away. Get the hell away from all this.”

You whipped back around, still feeling a terrible twinge of pain and sadness inside you at the bruising across his face, the fact that his cheek was definitely swelling up now.

Isaac frowned. It was a nice dream, and he hated to be the one to dash right through it.

“You know we can't do that.” Isaac sighed. Ever the realist. Of course. “Where the hell would we even go? With what money? No offense, but the couple hundred dollars you have saved up from babysitting isn't gonna get us anywhere.”

“It's over fifteen-hundred.” You told him honestly.

It was a nest egg that you had been sitting on since middle school, hoping to escape your father and never look back. When you met Isaac, you had another thing anchoring you to Beacon Hills, keeping you from buying the bus ticket you had always wanted.

“But you're right. That'll get us - what? A couple of nights at a motel?” You let out a harsh, dry laugh. Trying to relieve some of the tension. “Well… we could go on a vacation? Escape for a few days?” You suggested, sounding hopeful.

The idea of spending time alone with Isaac - a getaway where the two of you could pretend none of it was happening, even for a few days - it sounded like paradise.

Isaac’s mind went to a dream-like vision - having you alone in a hotel room. A bed just for the two of you. Even just getting the chance to sleep peacefully with you, cuddle you, it sounded like a dream.

He had to pull himself back before his mind went to places a friend shouldn’t stray.

“A last hurrah before my dad kills me for running away on him.” Isaac sighed.

The consequences of it would be inevitable. The two of you would have to come back home eventually. He knew that your father would likely feel much the same. He would never forgive himself if you ended up bruised and battered because of something he had encouraged you to do.

You let out a sob then - the thought of Isaac dying by his father's hands had been all too real to you at times. A horror you imagined in your mind over and over again, especially after times he had come to you with half his torso nearly bruised black and he had been unable to move properly for days. His father was a monster, and you didn’t doubt that he would be capable of murder.

Isaac rushed to stand up, and pulled you into a hug. His warmth, his arms surrounding you tightly - it was the only place you ever felt safe. You eagerly gripped him back, missing the wince he let out when you squeezed a bit too hard over one of his bruised ribs. But no - he would never fault you for holding onto him too tightly.

Holding you like this - he felt like he had the world in his arms. Something tight in his chest, telling him that if anything ever happened to you, he would become the same kind of monster that his father was. But in the same way any threat to you made him boil over with rage - you made him gentle. You made him soft and loving. You were the only person in the world who made him feel okay to weep.

He kissed the top of your head, not a stranger to comforting you with affection even though the two of you remained strictly as ‘friends’. As much as he yearned for more - you were a life vest while he was drowning and he wouldn't risk fucking that up just to kiss you and call you his girlfriend. He wouldn't throw any messy feelings into the mix.

“It'll be okay.” He told you.

Coming from his lips, you had to believe it.

“Thank you, Isaac.” You sniffled. And then, something hit you. “You came over here for my help, and now you’re comforting me.” You let out another dry chuckle, clearly resisting the urge to scold yourself.

“This is helping.” He told you, hugging you tighter. “This always helps.” He said the last part quieter, a dropped whisper that you could barely hear.

It was a truth he was afraid to confront just yet.

…

But in the present, it was a truth that was helping him more than anything.

Isaac hadn't spoken to you since he had gotten the Bite. He had been terrified of hurting you somehow. The last thing he ever wanted was to become the thing that you feared. It would have been his worst nightmare to be the one to make you cower in a corner and cry rather than to be the one giving you comfort from it.

As the moon came to a full wane overhead, and the mighty rage and power pulsed through his veins, Isaac thought of you. He thought of using that power to tear apart anybody who had ever hurt you - to finally free you from those tears. He thought of giving you the same relief he had felt when his father died. He thought of his love for you, even if it was a silent love that he had never gotten the chance to voice.

“I see you found your anchor.” Derek remarked to Isaac later, after he had gotten Erica and Boyd back in their chains, tightening Isaac’s binds once again, if only as a precaution.

“I did.”

Derek looked at him with intrigue, as if waiting for him to explain.

“Well, you said that you use anger. And Scott uses love.” Isaac told him. “I guess that mine is… some combination of both.”

“Protectiveness.” Derek explained. “That's what wolves call it.”

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, and I wrote this to be a closed off story/its own little moment inspired by the show. This is a complete story, however, if there is enough interest, I might turn this concept into a longer oneshot and expand on the idea. It would not be me writing a 'part 2' of this, it would be me using this concept and writing a longer oneshot. I do have a personal vested interest in writing about powerful characters defeating abusers, but currently I don't have the time to turn this into something longer, so this is all I wrote. Please do not harass me about making this longer or posting something more, and if you're going to leave a comment asking for a continuation, please also tell me what you liked about this current story. Though I have something else in mind, I do consider this to be a completed story on its own.

#sundrop writes #teen wolf #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x y/n #isaac lahey x you

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stevie-petey · 7 months ago

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episode four: the sauna test

Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!” “What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time. “Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent. Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys.

Summary: dustin has some brotherly concern for you (dont tell anyone though), steve is offended you dont think he can fight, nancy gets upset during therapy hour, robin encourages child endangerment, erica becomes your hero, and you lose your lunch on hawkins makeshift tower of terror (aka sketchy russian elevators)

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: swearing, use of y/n, fem!reader

Words: 7.5k

Before you swing in: hello my loves ! had a busy may wrapping up finals, move out, and adjusting back to life at home. i finally had the time to write this, and while im still iffy with some parts, im just excited to finally be at the elevator scene tbh. ive been DYING to write her. enjoy !!

Dustin stands outside your room the next morning, fist hovering over the door, unsure if he should knock. It’s early and he can’t get the panic he saw in your eyes last night out of his head. He hasn’t seen you that consumed with anxiety since you guys were kids and your parents began to fight.

He feels horrible for putting you in that position last night, at odds with him, Robin, and Steve.

Especially Steve.

Dustin hadn’t meant to start a fight between you and the teen. Contrary to popular belief, he actually does want the two of you together, but now he’s worried he’s somehow caused a rift in your relationship.

Sighing, your brother allows his knuckles to rap against your door. When he doesn’t hear anything, he slowly opens it and pokes his head in. You’re asleep in your bed, blankets strewn everywhere, and Dustin knows he’s fucked up because you almost never sleep in this late.

Now he’s worried he’s going to have to force you into a code blue.

Dustin lets himself into your room and stands before your bed. Then, because he’s your brother and finds it hard to express his worries for you in a normal way, he pokes your cheek with his finger. “Wake up.”

You stir at the touch but remain asleep. Dustin groans and starts repeatedly poking you. “Dude, get up.” He now starts poking your nose, your forehead and eyebrows, anywhere his finger can reach.

Finally the onslaught of pokes to your face is enough to wake you up. You raise your hand and slap Dustin away as you scrunch your face in displeasure. “Why do you always insist on waking me up this way?”

“It’s fun for me.”

You slap at your brother again and take a moment to stretch. Your body is exhausted, you got home late last night after your drive with Jonathan. Once the two of you had been done discussing your relationship problems, you both decided to just drive around Hawkins and simmer in your limited time together. For those few hours, only the two of you existed.

Yawning, you blink your eyes open at Dustin. “Is there a reason you’re waking me up before my alarm is supposed to go off?”

Dustin’s smug smile falls. He coughs and starts to fidget with his fingers. “Oh, I was just–well. Last night… Do you wanna talk about it?”

The implications of your brother’s words cause you to fully wake up. “Is this your poor attempt at commencing a code blue?”

“Well, do we need a code blue?”

You roll over and throw your blankets over your head, blocking out the world. “I already talked about my feelings last night with Jonathan, please give me at least twenty-four hours to recover.”

Dustin flicks your ear that pokes out from under the blankets at the mention of Jonathan. “Why were you with that guy last night?”

“Stop touching my face!” You yell at the kid, annoyed. “And because he’s my best friend. We both had shitty nights so we drove around and cried together.”

Your brother pauses. “Did you actually cry together?”

“No,” you now uncover your face and sigh. “Only I cried, but it was therapeutic nonetheless.”

Dustin drops his head, remembering how upset you’d been standing in the hallway last night with the others. “I’m sorry about last night, Y/N.”

“Hey, no.” You sit up now and force him to look at you. “No apologizing. I understand.”

Your friends have all gone their separate ways this summer and I know you’re so fixated on the Russians because you’re lonely. I understand, and I’m here for you.

It goes unsaid, but Dustin knows that you have him all figured out, though it doesn’t ease the guilt he feels for dragging you into all of this in the first place. “You don’t have to join me at Scoops today, Y/N.”

“I know, but I will anyway after my shift.” I have to keep you safe.

“We both know you’re only going to make sure I don’t burn the place down.” You worry too much.

“Oh, don’t think I won’t call Steve once this conversation is done to make sure he keeps an eye on you.” I know, but it’s my job and I love you.

“You’re the worst.” I love you, too.

You ruffle Dustin’s hair with a fond smile. It’s an intricate thing, the hidden language that can only be found between siblings. All that goes unsaid becomes masked behind teasing and taunts, but you both hear what’s underneath.

When Dustin leaves your room to go to the mall, you roll over in bed and reach for the phone that rests on top of your desk. Your fingers press the numbers that have become ingrained within your brain from countless nights of dialing. The line rings only one time before Steve’s tired voice answers.

“Hello?”

You smile hearing his voice, despite the distance that seems to have now formed between you. “Hi, honey.”

There’s rustling on the other end of the line and you know Steve still lays in his own bed only ten minutes from your own. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine,” you quickly reassure him, wincing when you realize you don’t normally call him so early. “Sorry, I was just calling to ask if you’d keep an eye on Dustin today? With the Russians and everything, I have work today and can’t be there–”

“Of course I’ll keep an eye on your brother, Y/N.” Steve gently interrupts your anxious rambling.

“Thank you,” you say softly with a laugh, embarrassed.

“Are we…” Steve hesitates, unsure how to find the right words. “Are we okay? I know things were–uh, weird. Last night. And that I was a dick and I just, I’m really sorry, Y/N. For everything.”

You close your eyes and exhale slowly, knowing that there’s more that Steve wants to say but is too afraid to tell you. Too ashamed to say that he’s embarrassed as well for allowing his pride to cloud his judgment, and you’re too exhausted to try and remind him again that you love him despite it all. “We’re okay, Steve. I promise.”

He takes a moment to respond, he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s never been good at this. Finally, he settles on what he’s able to give you. It seems that’s all he’s been able to do lately. “I’ll miss you today, angel.”

“I’ll miss you too, honey.” The name slips from your tongue in a languid manner, the warmth that accompanies the word still wraps itself around your body and reminds you of the love you feel for the boy. You hope he can feel the warmth too, you hope it descends down the landline and wraps around him as well. “I’ll see you after work.”

–

Your day only gets worse from there.

After only an hour or so of sadly sorting through books at work without a customer in sight, you hear a frail scream come from Mrs. Waters’ office. You run towards the woman in a heartbeat, panic stricken and afraid of what you’ll find.

Mrs. Waters is sitting tiredly in her office with her head in her hands when you run in. The usually upbeat woman is hunched over with despair and you’re quick to rush over to her with worry. “Mrs. Waters, is everything okay?”

She rubs at her temples and it’s then that you realize her telephone is in her hand. Without bothering to look, she clumsily places it back on the wall and looks up at you with sad, tired eyes. “I’m fine, dear. I–I just had a fright, that’s all.”

“What happened?” You pull a chair to sit next to the woman and grab her wrinkled, yet soft, hands.

“Oh, I’m old.” Mrs. Waters smiles at you sadly. There are tears in her eyes as she takes a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. “My, you would think I’d be used to phone calls from the hospital.”

“The hospital?”

Hearing the panic in your voice, your boss grabs the hands you have placed on top of her’s and squeezes with reassurance. “It wasn’t for me, dear.”

You’re still anxious for the woman in front of you. “Who then?”

“They called me for an old friend,” Mrs. Waters clutches at her chest with a certain fear that you’ve never seen within the woman. “She’s in the hospital because some young journalist found her eating fertilizer in her home last night. She’s always been… troubled.”

You gasp and pull away from your boss and your mind reels with this new information. Jonathan’s voice echoes within the walls of your mind, of his story of the woman he and Nancy had found last night after investigating the rats.

Mrs. Waters frowns at your unexpected reaction and notices the fear on your face. “Dear, I’m sure my friend will be alright–”

“What…” your voice shakes, and you clear your throat. “What’s your friend’s name, Mrs. Waters?”

The old woman sighs, sensing there’s something more to your worry, but her heart hurts for her friend and she’s seen more in her almost seventy years than she’s ever wanted to. “Her name is Doris Driscoll.”

–

You’re sent home early after your conversation with Mrs. Waters. She had been too worried for her friend and saw how shaken up by it you seemed to be as well, so she patted your arm and dismissed you.

“There’s no point keeping the store open today, Y/N. Go home to that cute boy of yours while I go visit an old friend.”

You had tried arguing with her, but even you knew it was no use.

Biking to Starcourt, now more than ever worried about your job, you feel your birthday looming over you and the worries of Nancy’s involvement with rats and old women eating fertilizer mixed with Jonathan’s fears.

This was supposed to be a good summer.

Your head spins as you walk into the backdoor of Scoops Ahoy, finding Robin, Steve, and Dustin all circled around the table as they discuss how to enter the Russian storage room.

“What? I sneak up behind, knock him out, and I take his keycard.” Steve is explaining when you walk in. He has his leg propped against the seat next to him as he twirls his sailor’s hat in his hand. “It’s easy.”

“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin blinks at the teen, having little faith in his confidence.

You make your way towards the group and lift Steve’s propped leg up so that you can sit before placing the leg across your lap. Feeling your touch, he looks up with surprise to see you, having expected your shift to end later in the day. “Y/N?”

“You’re not going near any Russian men with guns, Steve.” You say to him in lieu of a greeting.

Steve deflates in his seat. “That’s why I’d be sneaking.”

Dustin shares a look with you, the two of you remembering all the times Steve has tried, and failed, to win a fight. Clearing his throat, your brother crosses his arms and winks at you before turning to the teen. “Alright, please tell us this, and be honest. Have you ever actually… won a fight?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, that was one time–”

“Twice, honey.” You interrupt him with a smile, enjoying this conversation maybe a little too much. “Jonathan, remember him?”

“Listen, that doesn’t count.”

“Oh, but it does.” You pinch Steve’s shin. “He kicked your ass, I was there.”

He winces and moves his legs off of you. “He didn’t kick my ass–”

“You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye.” Dustin adds on, leaning against your chair now as the two of you gang up on Steve.

“He even pinned you at one point. I distinctly remember thinking he was going to kill you.” You say, smirking.

Steve scoffs. “Oh, you did not have any concern for me then–”

You hit his shoulder. “Yes I did! I’ve always been worried about you–”

“Can you guys not make everything about your weird relationship for like, three seconds, please?” Dustin whines as you and Steve start to bicker about something else entirely.

As the three of you argue, Robin seems to get an idea and runs out of the room. Noticing her sudden absence, you turn to Steve and frown. “What’s Robin up to?”

He stands up and sees her snatching money from the tip jar before running off. Steve calls after her, but she doesn’t slow down as she runs out of the shop. “What are you doing?”

“I need cash!” She says, as if that explains everything.

“Isn’t half of the tip money Steve’s?” You ask, now standing next to him by the register alongside Dustin.

“I’ll pay your boyfriend back later, Y/N.” Robin continues to walk towards the shop’s exit. “I’m going to find us a way into that room, a safe way, just like I promised you.”

You’re oddly touched that she remembered your insistence on keeping everyone safe. With a smile, you call across to her, “thank you!”

Robin blushes and forces herself to look away from you so that she can direct her attention to Steve. “In the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff!”

As you and Steve watch Robin leave, the two of you turn and catch Dustin licking at one of the ice cream scoops. You whack him with the back of your hand and cringe at him. “Dude, what the hell?”

Dustin flinches away from you as Steve snatches the scoop from the boy with his own disgusted look. “Not my scooper, man.”

“Why are you like this?” You ask your brother with disappointment in your voice, to which he huffs at.

“I’m a curious person.” You scoff at Dustin and he rolls his eyes at you before making his way out from behind the ice cream counter. “If I’m going to be judged, then I’m going to the arcade while we wait for whatever Robin has planned.”

He’s gone without another word, leaving you alone with Steve.

It’s still early in the day and there’s only a few customers in Scoops Ahoy, so it’s just you and Steve. It’s the first time you’ve been alone together since last night, when you’d been standing in front of him, begging him to listen to you, and all he could do was watch you silently with pain in his own eyes.

As if coming to this realization himself, Steve coughs and rocks back and forth awkwardly. He knows you told him this morning that everything was okay between you two, but things still feel off. Despite your best efforts, he can tell that you’re still struggling to seem okay with the whole Russian debacle. You’re still frail looking, unsure and anxious, and Steve hates that he’s the reason why.

Hesitantly, he reaches for your hand. “Care to, uh. Join me in the backroom?”

You raise your eyebrows at his question. “Are you propositioning me, Harrington?”

“No!” His eyes widen in fear and his voice squeaks, which only embarasses him more. He clears his throat and tries to swallow down his dread. “I mean, not like that. I figured we could, you know… talk.”

Now it’s your turn to fill with dread. He’s seen through you, despite your best efforts to try and appease everyone. Squeezing his hand, you nod at Steve and allow him to guide you into the backroom.

Steve pulls a chair out from the table and sits down, and before you can process what’s happening, he pulls you down and into his lap. You throw your arms around his neck to steady yourself at the sudden movement, which only makes Steve’s proud smile widen. “You planned that, didn’t you?”

“Sure did, angel.”

You laugh and shake your head at him, tightening your arms around his neck and settling into his lap. He rests his hands on your thighs and stares at you with such warmth, such patience, content to simply have you here with him. Despite the uncertainty that seems to now loom over the two of you, there’s still a certainty within it. There’s still a trust that accompanies the hesitancy, and it’s this trust that caresses your cheek and coaxes you to speak.

“I don’t like what we’re doing, Steve.” You confess to him, making your words as plain as possible so that nothing gets misconstrued; too often your words have gotten lost in translation.

Steve nods slightly, his eyes never leave yours, and he listens. “I get that, I do, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad about standing your ground. It’s just… I wanted to go along with Dustin, pretend for a few days that I’m not some moron who couldn’t get into college, you know?”

“You’re not an idiot,” you fix a piece of Steve’s hair that has fallen out of his sailor’s hat and sigh. “But there’s more to this than just my stupid need to protect everyone.”

“Did something else happen?”

You hesitate, unsure if what’s been on your mind holds any real weight, or if you’re just being paranoid now after everything you’ve been through these last few years. Biting your lip, you decide that it’s Steve you’re telling this to. Paranoid or not, he’ll listen and try to help you piece it all together as well. He always does. “A few days ago I saw Billy stumbling on the side of the road. He was… bleeding.”

Steve’s eyes harden at the teen’s name and instinctively his grip on you tightens. “Did he do anything to you?”

“No,” you breathe out sharply, remembering how disoriented Billy had been. He was in no condition to cause you any harm, which in itself frightened you. “There was something off about him, Steve. I–I can’t explain it, but a day before I saw Billy, I had been with Will and he was almost similar to Billy, I guess? He just–he was frozen, staring off into space, until I got his attention again.”

“Why do I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me?”

You sigh. “Because there is. There’s always something else in the fucking town.” Anger begins to rise within you and you force yourself to swallow it down. Now isn’t the time for the anger that always simmers just below the surface, waiting. “I talked to Jonathan last night. He’s been with Nancy investigating rabid rats and an old woman who was caught eating her fertilizer.”

“Christ,” Steve exhales with bewilderment.

“And now Russians in Hawkins? What are the odds of this all happening within the same week?”

“Do you…” Looking around, Steve lowers his voice. “Do you think it’s happening again?”

“I don’t think so, El told us she closed the gate, but… I can’t explain any of this, either.” You feel helpless, and you hate it. There’s something you’re missing, there’s something connecting it all, and yet you’re going in circles.

It all can’t just be a coincidence, and it’s a horrible, maddening feeling.

And Steve tries to absolve you from it. “We’ll figure it out, together. You and me, even if you want to kill me by the time we’re done, I promise you that I’ll help you–” The phone starts to ring, cutting Steve off, and he sighs. Patting your thighs, he silently asks you to get up so that he can answer it.

Lazily walking over to the ringing phone, Steve picks it up with slight annoyance. “Scoops Ahoy, this is Steve.” There’s a feminine voice on the other line, which he frowns at, before handing the phone to you. “It’s for you?”

Surprised, you stand up and take the phone, unsure who would be calling for you at the ice cream shop. “Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s me. Um, hi.”

“Nancy?”

“I–uh, I called your job and this older lady told me you’d be at Scoops Ahoy? I needed someone to talk to, and I–I just,” She clears her throat, and it’s only now that you notice the exhaustion in her voice and how thick it sounds from dried up tears. “You know what? This is weird, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry–”

“Hey, no.” You fumble with the telephone cord and desperately wish you were with Nancy right now. After what Jonathan told you last night, you feel horrible for the girl, and from the sound of it, she needs someone there for her right now. “Talk to me, Nance. What happened?”

You hear her inhale a shaky breath, always the first to try and disguise any upset and hurt she may be feeling for the sake of others. She takes another deep breath, exhales slowly, and then begins to talk. “Jonathan and I had a fight.”

She tells you everything, from Mrs. Driscoll and the rats to Tom firing them for falsely identifying as reporters. It’s everything Jonathan told you last night, all his worst fears come true, except Nancy also tells you what he told her this morning. How condescending he had been, how he had reminded her of how poor he is, how he belittled her need to figure everything out herself.

“He kept defending all those assholes, Y/N.” More tears lace within Nancy’s voice. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He just kept repeating over and over again about how he needed the job, as if it wasn’t the single more humiliating thing I’ve ever had to endure.”

There’s so much you want to say, but you’re afraid it will only come out wrong. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through, Nance. I know those men were horrible to you, but you understand where Jonathan is coming from, right?”

“I mean, I thought I did, but,” she sniffs, her voice is soft and defeated. “I’m not so sure anymore. It feels like we can’t understand each other, like we’re physically incapable of seeing eye to eye. I know he has to provide for his family, I–I love that he takes care of them, that he always does what’s right, and yet it infuriates me sometimes.”

You can’t help but chuckle at what Nancy has said. She sounds so much like Jonathan in this moment, reminiscent of him telling you that her ambition is what he loves about her, and here she is saying his integrity is what she loves about him. “God, you two and your pride; you sound just like Jonathan. He said practically the same thing about you last night–”

“Jonathan talked to you about this?” Nancy’s voice becomes cold, defensive, and you know you’ve just said the wrong thing.

“Well, I mean,” you frantically try to alleviate the situation. “He only wanted advice, that’s all.”

Nancy scoffs, and you feel your heart drop. “So he can tell you all about how he feels, but bottles it up when it comes to his girlfriend?”

Well, fuck.

“He was scared and overwhelmed.” You try to keep your voice neutral, not wanting the girl to assume you’re on anyone’s side. “It’s a difficult situation, and he came to me for help just like you are right now.”

Jealousy claws at Nancy suddenly, it clashes against the hurt within her. Jonathan went to you, as he’s always done, he sought solace in you for the emotions within him that he still has yet to share with her. It reminds her, then, just how little she knows about him still. How many years stretch between you and Nancy when it comes to Jonathan.

“I’m sure you know all about how he feels,” she says bitterly, unable to stop herself. “The two of you understand one another.”

You sense that there’s something important with what she’s just said. The words were said with a history behind them, an insecurity that you cannot compensate for, and you feel defenseless against Nancy. “He was hurt, and so are you–”

“God, I should’ve known you’d take his side! I mean, you two always do this. I’m such an idiot.”

Panic begins to surround you. “Nancy, I’m not taking anyone’s side, just please listen to me–”

The line goes dead as Nancy hangs up.

Numb, you place the phone back on the wall and stare blankly at it. The pressure of tears presses against your eyes and you try to steady your breathing. You’ve hurt Nancy, you’ve caused a rift between you that threatens to collapse into a chasm, and you don’t know what to do.

Steve sees that you’re fighting back tears and he tugs you against his chest. His embrace soothes you, but when he asks what happened, all you can do is shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. There’s too much to explain, a history between you and Jonathan that you know Steve accepts, and yet now you’re terrified you’ll somehow hurt him like you’ve hurt Nancy.

“I’m sorry, angel.”

Neither of you are sure what Steve is apologizing for, but it’s enough for now.

So much for an easy summer.

–

“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s Office.” Robin places a giant sheet of paper onto the table. On it are lines and shapes all drawn in blue with an intricate layout. You lean in close to inspect it as Robin continues explaining. “Starcourt Mall, the complete blueprints.”

Dustin praises her idea and you hesitantly agree; you would’ve never thought of asking for the mall’s blueprints. “You’ve got my attention.”

She smiles and starts to explain her plan. “This is us, Scoops,” her fingers trace over the paper as she guides you and the boys through the blueprint. “And this is where we want to get.”

“I don’t really see a way in.” Steve points out, now sitting at the table with an arm wrapped around you.

“There’s not,” Robin casts the top blueprint aside and reveals another one underneath. It’s similar in design, although this one lacks more shapes and is mostly lines. “If you’re talking exclusively about doors.”

You squint at the drawings, trying to figure out what they remind you of. “Are those…”

“Air ducts!” Dustin finishes for you, impressed with Robin’s idea.

“Safe, practical, and wouldn’t involve guns.” Turning to the girl, you nod at her and wink. “Buckley, you really keep your promises.”

Robin bows playfully. “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room, and these air ducts,” she grabs a marker from the whiteboard and circles Scoops on the blueprints before drawing a winding line down to the hidden vault and circling it as well. “Lead all the way here.”

The four of you all look up at the vent above you, and while the idea seems like the safest option, you can’t help but wonder how horribly wrong it could go as well. You’ve never had the best luck, not when it comes to Hawkins, and the air ducts seem almost too easy of a solution to trust.

Steve finds a screwdriver in one of the shop’s drawers and takes apart the air vent with Dustin’s help. You stand next to Robin and watch with slight weariness, unsure where to go from here. Once Steve has removed the vent, he shines a flashlight inside and winces.

“I don’t know, guys. It’s a tight fit.”

“I can do it,” you step forward. “Can’t be that bad, right?”

Steve looks down at you from the ladder. “This feels like a trap.”

“Move, Harrington.” Once he’s off the ladder, you climb up yourself. When you look into the vent, your heart drops. It is a tight fit, there’s no way you’ll be able to crawl through it. Defeated, you climb down the ladder. “Well, shit.”

“I’ll fit.” Dustin now speaks up.

“No you will not.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “No collar bones, remember?”

“Excuse me?” Robin has never been more confused in her life.

Steve begins to explain Dustin’s medical condition while you continue arguing with your brother. “I’m not letting you do this!”

“You got the healthy genes while I got the rare genetic condition, Y/N.” Dustin starts to climb up the ladder as you tug at his shirt to try and stop him. “Let me abuse it!”

“But–”

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll handle this, Y/N.”

You step back, hoping that he’ll talk some sense into your brother, but to your horror he only makes things worse. Dustin starts to climb into the vent with Steve below him, but he gets stuck about halfway in. “Steve, push me!”

The teen looks at you, unsure what the right call here is. “Do I…?”

“Yeah, just push the kid.” You rub your eyes, tired. “He’s already almost in the damn air duct anyways.”

Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!”

“What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time.

“Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent.

Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys.

The two boys argue, Dustin commanding Steve to push him harder as the teen tries his best to shove the kid, and Robin leans over to you. “Remind me, why are you into Harrington again?”

All you can do is sigh at her question, having no good answer as you watch Steve now manhandle Dustin and scream back insults at him.

They look ridiculous.

“Ahoy, sailors!” Someone rings the register’s bell impatiently. “All hands on deck!”

You and Robin turn to find Erica standing at the register as she repeatedly rings the bell and demands her daily free samples. You’re about to respond to her when you see Robin raise her eyebrows; it’s clear she’s thought of something.

“Would… Erica fit in the vent?”

Your hand snatches at Robin’s arm as you pull her away from the shop’s window. “Absolutely not. We’re not getting Erica involved!”

“C’mon, Y/N. She’s small, she could easily fit–”

“She’s ten.” She’s too young. You’ve always regretted that Dustin and the party were twelve when everything began.

You’ll be damned if you ruin another child’s life.

But Robin doesn’t know any of this, and she ignores you as she runs to the register and recruits Erica before you can stop her. Within a minute you have a very curious Erica Sinclair climbing the ladder up to the vent as she shines a flashlight through it.

You stand below her, helpless.

“Yeah, I don’t know.” She climbs down after a few minutes of studying the vent’s dimensions.

“You don’t know if you can fit?” Dustin asks.

Erica leans against the table and studies the four of you with distaste. “Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”

“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin teases her, but you only feel sympathy for the girl.

You step towards Erica, trying one last time to reason with her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back down now, no one will blame you. In fact, I will give you all my allowance if you say no.”

Dustin elbows you roughly to get you to shut up, he knows what you’re trying to do. You glare at him and rub your now tender shoulder. When you look towards Steve and Robin for backup, both teens send you pleading glances similar to the ones from last night.

Once again, you’re the odd man out.

None of this is what you want.

“I don’t have phobias,” Erica informs Robin. Then, she turns to you, “and no one tells me what to do.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Okay, well. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica.”

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting in a booth with the others as Steve slides Erica a freshly made sundae.

“More fudge, please.” She requests, pleased she’s won.

Steve looks at you, already fed up with the kid, and you feel no sympathy for him. “Go on, get the girl her bribery fudge. This is what you wanted.”

He cringes at the sarcasm in your voice and knows you’re once again pissed at him. Defeated, he hangs his head low and leaves to get Erica more fudge without another word. Once he’s gone, Robin opens up her blueprints and shows the girl the air ducts. “You see this? This is the route you’re going to take.”

You sit there quietly as Dustin and Robin talk to Erica. After they’ve explained the entire plan, she mentions that this all sounds like child endangerment. You let out an exhausted chuckle. “It does, doesn’t it? Isn’t that just hilarious to think about?”

Robin tries to reassure both you and Erica. “We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time–”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Erica waves a finger in Robin’s face, unamused. “Child. Endangerment.”

“It’s a shame only you can see that.” You drop your head onto the table, entirely over the situation. “I mean, how can only the ten year old see how insane this is, huh?”

Dustin throws a straw at you and shushes you, annoyed with your theatrics. Clearing his throat, he turns to Erica. “We think these Russians want to do harm to our country.”

“Unconfirmed, actually.” You retort. With every passing minute, it becomes more and more evident that this really is happening, and there’s no way you can back out now; someone sane has to be there to protect everyone. Dustin and the others all seem deluded by the idea of fame and adventure, but all you want to do is keep your loved ones safe.

“Shut up,” Dustin shoves you further away from him as he tries to win over Erica’s agreement. “Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”

“You can’t spell ‘America’ without ‘Erica’.” She takes a sip from her drink, now listening.

You lift your head up from the table and share a baffled look with Dustin, both of you going through how to spell America in your heads. Amazingly, Erica is right. You really can’t spell the word without her name.

“Incredible,” you whisper, in complete disbelief.

Dustin shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. Oddly, that’s–uh, totally true… So, don’t do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man, for America – Erica.”

After your brother’s speech, Erica puts down her drink and mocks him, still not entirely sold on the whole child endangerment idea. Instead, she goes on a whole spiel about how she loves capitalism and paying people for their services while you sit there, head pounding with a headache.

“And it seems to me,” Erica concludes with a smile, “my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many. I’m talking free ice cream for life.”

Robin and Dustin mirror exasperated expressions on their faces, but honestly? You get a kick out of Erica recognizing her worth; she’s brilliant. Without saying anything, you lift your hand up for Erica to high five, which she happily accepts.

“To child endangerment!” You cheer, your voice oozing sarcasm, and Erica follows suit as Robin and Dustin both slump in their seats.

–

It’s your idea to prep Erica for whatever she may find after crawling through the ducts. You shoved a helmet on her head and forced knee pads onto the girl, which she adamantly protested against.

“This is excessive, even for you.”

You held up money, which promptly shut her up. “Wear the protection and do exactly as I say, or lose $5.”

After she took the money, you then held out your switchblade for her to take as well. “And use this if anything happens, alright?”

Erica had stared at you, slightly surprised. “Why do you carry knives on you?”

“Ask questions later.”

Now you’re anxiously waiting on the mall’s rooftop once more with Dustin, Steve, and Robin as you radio Erica for updates.

“You nerds in position or what?” Her voice drones through the walkie’s speaker.

“Yeah, we’re in position.” Robin confirms. The three of you have been scouting the shipment deck for the last thirty minutes, making sure all the possible Russian guards were gone. “It’s all quiet up here, so you’ve got the green light.”

You take the walkie from Robin. “But be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Be careful and green light, roger that. Commence Operation Child Endangerment.”

Robin snatches the walkie back and cringes at what Erica has said. “Can we maybe not call it that?”

“That's exactly what’s happening here.” You say with a snort.

“Thanks for the help, Y/N.”

You give Robin a thumbs up. “Anytime.”

Erica announces that she’s in the air ducts and you feel the familiar burden of fear creep through you as she now goes quiet. Steve’s hand finds yours and he attempts to ease your discomfort as you all wait. “Erica will be fine, Y/N.”

“Yeah, totally!” Robin tries to reassure you as well, though she looks nervous too.

The minutes drag by at an agonizingly slow pace. The three of you hold your breath, waiting for Erica’s assurance that she’s safe and okay, and you pray to whatever god that’s up there to listen and keep her safe.

If anything happens to her, it would only be your fault for not having learned your lesson sooner.

“Alright, nerds.” You let out a breath of relief when Erica radios again, and you can feel Steve exhale as well. He’d been worried, too. “I’m there.”

“Do you see anything?” Robin asks, voice alight with excitement now.

“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.”

“Any guards?”

Erica pauses a moment, presumably scanning for any signs of danger, before responding. “Negative.”

You breathe out again with relief. At the very least, Erica is in a safe enough location.

However, Robin isn’t done asking questions yet. “Booby traps?”

“If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”

You grab the radio again from Robin. “Erica, have I told you that you’re my favorite child?”

“You haven’t, but I know I am,” there’s a bang over the other end of the walkie, then a loud thud followed by a grunt, before her voice comes through again. “I’m in.” Then, not even a minute later, the door to the vault begins to lift up, revealing a smug looking Erica on the other side.

You all stare at her in awe, and she snaps her fingers at you. “Free ice cream for life.”

Steve lets out a surprised laugh and a smile crosses your face as well. Even though you’re still entirely against what’s happening, you can’t believe that the plan worked. You guys successfully broke into a Russian vault.

That beats Demodogs any day.

You, Steve, Robin, and Dustin climb down from the roof to get to Erica as fast as you can. When you finally join her, you risk her fury and pull her into your arms for a hug. “You’re so much braver than I was at ten.”

Erica shoves you off of her. “That doesn’t at all surprise me.”

While you make sure she’s okay, Dustin and the others investigate the room. There’s boxes everywhere with tape all over them. Lifting one up onto a table, Steve turns to you. “Can I borrow that switchblade, Y/N?”

“She’s got it,” you point to Erica. “Talk to the kid.”

Steve frowns, having unexpected this, and, being scared of the girl, he laughs nervously. “Uh, Erica? Can I have that switchblade now?”

She rolls his eyes at him and digs through her pockets to retrieve it. “Aren’t you the man in the relationship? Why don’t you have your own pair of knives?”

You cover your mouth to try and stifle the laugh that escapes you, but it’s no use. Steve hears it and sticks his middle finger up at you before finally opening the box. Cutting through the tape, he opens the box’s flaps to find a metal storage container within them.

When Steve reaches his hand inside the box, you stop him. “Please, be careful.”

“I got this, angel.” However, he slows his movements and carefully grabs at the container’s handle. Slowly, he turns it, and it lets out a terrifying hiss as air escapes it. Removing the lid, more air comes crawling out and reveals four individual cylinders.

“Definitely not delicious noodles and sensible shoes.” You breathe out, and Steve hums in agreement.

“That’s a weird way of saying ‘you were right, Dustin’.” Your brother snarks, and you hit his shoulder to shut him up.

Meanwhile, Steve waves his hand at the four of you, motioning you to back up. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.”

Robin and Erica don’t hesitate to listen, but you and Dustin remain where you are. There’s a silent agreement between the two of you to not abandon Steve, he needs you. When he sees that you both haven’t listened, Steve pleads with you. “Just step back, please? I’m doing this for you guys, this could be dangerous.”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time.

Steve tries to argue again, but you remain firm in your stance. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

His words falter at the sincerity in your voice, and he wishes it was just the two of you alone right now so that he could stroke your cheek and kiss away your concerns. He’s filled with warmth by your care for him, but just like you would never put him in danger, Steve would never put you in any danger either.

He loves you with everything within him, he just wishes he could tell you this.

“If you die, I die.” Dustin proudly declares, breaking Steve out of his thoughts.

You stare at your brother, as does Steve, and together the two of you awkwardly pat the kid’s shoulder to acknowledge his sentiment. With a cough, you add, “Hendersons with Harrington.”

Steve clears his throat, overwhelmed and slightly off put by the bizarre support. “Okay, I guess.” He grabs at one of the cylinders and twists slowly, and when it unlocks, he lifts and reveals a bubbling green liquid. “What the hell?”

Robin asks what the substance is and you feel like you’ve lost your mind. You have no idea what the fuck is happening anymore. “God I hope it’s scary Kool-Aid”

As soon as the words have left your mouth, you feel rumbling beneath your feet.

Immediately, you know you’ve fucked up.

Dustin looks up at you in alarm. “Was that just me, or did the room move?”

“Booby traps,” Erica whispers, looking scared as well.

A mechanical whirring sound infiltrates your ears as the room starts to shake again, and every part of your body screams at you to run. Something is very, very wrong. Grabbing Dustin’s hand, you start to head towards the door. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Let’s go!” Robin follows you, not needing to be told twice, and grabs one of the vials of liquid as she does so.

“Which one is the button, Erica?” Dustin asks, fingers hovering over the control panel’s buttons after pressing one failed.

“Just press the damn button, nerd.”

You turn to her, panic rising. “He is, but nothing’s happening.”

“Press ‘open door’.”

Dustin presses the button again but still, nothing happens. Frantic to escape the room now, you shove him aside and try yourself. Your fingers press roughly against it, but still the doors won’t budge.

Steve joins, sliding next to you as he starts to try pressing the buttons. “Here, press the other button.”

You slap his hand. You’re overwhelmed and scared and anxious and he’s five seconds away from losing an eye. “I already did that!”

Dustin starts to argue with Steve now and they push you back, repeatedly hitting whatever they can touch, as Robin and Erica shout their own useless and unneeded advice that is helping absolutely no one. You stand behind the boys, hands pressed against your head as you start to hyperventilate with panic.

Then, walls come slamming down on all sides of the room, effectively kick starting your panic attack. The lights begin to flicker as the room suddenly drops. Your stomach lurches into your throat as you’re thrown downward, and instinctively you grab for Dustin in your panic as Steve grabs for you.

Everyone screams as you plunge into the darkness.

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #steve is just a boy doing his best #and erica !!#WE FINALLY HAVE ERICA !!!

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