#back on my bullshit so time for more eight

[buildoblivion]

studying him 🔍👀

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, read at your own risk.

[trashbaget]

*

[theostrophywife]

le coup de foudre.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: my love mine all mine by mitski.

author's note: this was a result of me binging dune and call me by your name. whoever fancasted timothee chalamet as regulus deserves a forehead kith cause look at him. he's so boyfriend coded it makes me sick.

Regulus Black did not believe in love at first sight. 

It was a foolish notion. One that contradicted his pragmatic beliefs. At his core, Regulus was a realist. In his world, love was not a luxury one could afford. Regulus was raised with the expectation to marry according to class, wealth, and most importantly, blood status. The noble and most ancient house of Black only took the purest of the pure. 

After all, toujours pur, always pure, has been his family’s motto for centuries. There has never been any doubt in his mind that he’d marry another member of the sacred twenty eight. It wasn’t a matter of if, only a question of when. 

During his sixth year, his mother made her intentions very clear. Walburga Black was adamant that he begin his search for a suitable bride. Leave it to his mother to compose a list of ladies she deemed suitable to become the future Mrs. Black. Regulus was to adhere to the carefully curated roster. They were names that he’d seen a million times before. Greengrass, Prewett, Rosier. Girls he’d grown up with and inadvertently had absolutely no interest in. 

Still, his mother was insistent so Regulus complied. He took the girls out on dates. The formula was rather simple: dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town followed by a walk around the city square in which he offered to buy his date a dessert like the proper gentleman his mother raised him to be. Despite the fact that Regulus had the entire process down to a science, the dates were always unsatisfactory. 

He was polite, of course. Opened the door, pulled out their chair, asked the appropriate level of questions to get to know his counterpart, but by the time the appetizers arrived, Regulus was on the verge of stabbing himself with the butter knife just to rouse himself from boredom. 

Regulus placed no blame on the girls. They were only doing what their families had raised them to do. Sit pretty, chew gracefully, agree with his opinions. All while wearing breakneck heels and a smile to boot. It was all terribly fucked up, but this was the world they lived in. 

The more he went on these dates, the more he realized that he didn’t want some pretty, docile wife. What he truly needed was someone who was willing to challenge him, to call him out on his bullshit, to argue with him when his own stubbornness prevented him from seeing reason. Regulus came to the horrible, earth-shattering realization that he probably wouldn’t find a woman like that on his mother’s list. 

As he walked back from another mind numbing date, Regulus grappled with this newfound dilemma. He didn’t want to endure another one of these disastrous dates. He didn’t want to sit through an entire meal making small talk. He definitely didn’t want to disappoint another girl by not kissing them at the end of the night. 

It wasn’t like any of them liked him anyways. Though they loved the idea of Regulus Black, he was quite certain that they wouldn’t afford the same affections to Reggie—the real and true version of himself. The one that Sirius often said Regulus kept in a neatly locked cage.

He wished he could be more like his brother. Sirius had always been the brave one. It was that infamous Gryffindor boldness that prompted his older brother to rebel against his family’s expectations. Instead of heeding to their mother’s ridiculous list, Sirius chose to date Remus in open defiance to Walburga’s orders. It resulted in him getting kicked out of 12 Grimmauld Place and burned off the family portrait, but Sirius didn’t seem to mind one bit.  

In a lot of ways, Regulus envied his brother. Sirius had the guts to stand up for himself. He wasn’t burdened by the crippling pressure of pleasing their mother. In all honesty, Reggie wondered if such a thing was even achievable. As he brooded, Regulus found himself on the shores of the Black Lake. His body had taken him here on autopilot. It was his only place of refuge in the castle. 

Regulus paced the rickety wooden dock. His mind was working so fast, so many thoughts spinning in his head, that it felt like he might work himself up to a fit. This has always been his problem. Sirius often said that he lived in his head too much. He frowned, trying and failing to get ahold of himself. For once, he wished he could just shut his brain off entirely.

Just then, Regulus felt a drop of water hit his head. He looked up and found dark, gray clouds hovering over the horizon. The stormcloud broke open and unleashed torrential rain all around him. Fucking fantastic. The world truly couldn’t give him a bloody break, could it? 

With a sigh, Regulus began making his way back. The ground was sodden underneath his feet, his boots sinking into the sand and dragging behind his black coat. The waves lapped violently across the shore as the wind lashed against the murky waters. Regulus was almost at the edge of the beach when he spotted you. 

A flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Regulus stopped dead in his tracks. There, at the mouth of the Black Lake, in the middle of the pouring rain, stood a girl with the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. 

Regulus was fairly certain that you had History of Magic together. He sat behind you in class, passed by you in the halls, even reached for the same book in the forbidden section of the library once, but Reggie had never once seen that smile. The gravity of it threatened to knock the very breath from his lungs. 

There was something carefree about you. The way you spread your arms, tilted your head back, and laughed in the midst of the rain and thunder. Almost like you were welcoming the storm. 

It was only when your eyes locked that Regulus realized he was staring. You cocked your head at him, trailing your gaze from the curls plastered against his cheek to the nice button down and freshly pressed trousers that were now soaked from the rain, down to the shiny leather boots that were now digging into the sand. You seemed amused at the sight of him.

Ever the perfect gentleman, Regulus snapped out of his daze and jogged over to you. Without hesitation, he raised his coat over your head to shield you from the rain even though you were already both drenched. 

“What are you doing out in the rain?” Regulus asked, his voice full of genuine concern. “You’ll catch a cold.” 

You stepped out of the refuge of his expensive looking coat and held your hand out, catching droplets in your palm. “I don’t mind. I just…I just needed to feel the rain on my skin, that’s all.”

You supposed it must’ve seemed strange to him, but the rain always made you feel better. Lately, life had been just a little too overwhelming. There was so much pressure to do well in classes, to hang out with friends while balancing your clubs and sports, as well as making time to write back to your parents. When it all became a bit too much, you tended to come to the Black Lake for some sort of refuge. The rain was just an added bonus. 

If Regulus found your behavior bizarre, he didn’t say. Instead, he just smiled softly. “Well, you got your wish. It’s soaked out here.” 

“I know,” you responded with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” 

“Standing out in the pouring rain? On a beach where lightning can strike me down at any second? Yes, it’s absolutely splendid.”

Your mouth quirked in amusement. “No one’s telling you to stay out here.” You nodded towards the castle. “You’re more than welcome to take your brooding inside where it’s warm and dry. Not to mention, free of the dangers of lightning strikes, which are extremely rare by the way.” 

“With my luck, I might be the poor one in a million git who gets torched while getting insulted by a pretty girl.” 

“Did I insult you?’ you quipped back. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You accused me of brooding.” 

“I didn’t accuse, I stated. Even the Wizengamot would have to rule that you were, in fact, brooding.” 

Regulus raised a brow. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?” 

“Unfortunately, the evidence is overwhelming and the verdict is set. You, Regulus Black, have been sentenced for glaring at the Black Lake so menacingly that even the giant squid refuses to come to shore. Off to Azkaban you go.” 

“Do you promise to write me letters? Update me of how the world’s progressed without my dazzling presence?” 

“It would be my genuine pleasure.” 

Regulus chuckled at your dry humor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bantered like this with anyone, much less with a strange not-so-stranger. You sat down on the wet sand and patted the spot beside you with a grin.

“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me all about your troubles.” 

Beyond the bleak horizon, the spires of the castle peeked through the gray clouds. Regulus thought of the common room where his housemates would no doubt be gathered around the ornate fireplace for warmth. Knowing his friends, they’d probably be indulging in spiked hot chocolate and playing some childish drinking game. A few minutes ago, nothing appealed to him more, but now Regulus found himself choosing the violent rain and soggy sand. All because of you, his mystery girl.

You leaned back on your elbows and cocked your head at him. “What ails you, Mr. Black?” 

“That depends. How much do you bill per hour?” 

“Fortunately for you, I’m in a generous mood so I’ll throw in a free session. Consider it my pro-bono work.” 

“How kind of you,” Regulus said with a serious expression. “My brother’s been nagging me to see a mind healer for years. All that childhood trauma, you know.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips, revealing a set of dimples that he found rather charming. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” 

“My brother is Sirius. I’m Regulus, remember?” 

You snorted in a very unladylike manner, which only made Regulus grin. There was something so unapologetically you in your laugh that was absolutely endearing to him. Regulus smiled and knocked his shoulder against yours. 

You mimicked the action and smiled back at him. “All sarcasm aside, I was being genuine. If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 

"Do you often offer therapy sessions to complete strangers?"

"Only to surly Slytherins with sad eyes and pretty curls," you quipped back. "And we're not strangers. I sit behind you in potions. We're practically best mates."

"You think my curls are pretty?"

"Like a little cherub's. Are you quite sure you haven't escaped from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? You look like one of Michelangelo's angels. Except with way more scowling." Regulus grinned. He got the feeling that you always said whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was refreshing. "There's a smile. See? Our session is already progressing."

"I think you might get more than you bargained for with me, I'm afraid."

You met the challenge in his words head on. "Try me."

“You were right. I’m definitely guilty of brooding.” 

“What happened?” 

Regulus hesitated for a moment. He had never been the type of person to be candid with his feelings, especially not with someone he barely knew. Usually, he just kept his thoughts to himself and ruminated on them in the privacy of his dorm until he drove himself mad by overthinking, but your presence brought him an unexplainable ease. For once in his life, Regulus chose not to question it. 

“I’ve had a long night,” he said, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I just got back from a date.” 

“It didn’t go well?” 

“It was…fine. It’s always fine. But it’s the same thing over and over again, just with a different girl.” 

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a playboy, Regulus Black.”

Regulus chuckled. “I’m not some unscrupulous rake, I assure you.” 

“Yes, that much is obvious from your use of the word unscrupulous.” You tucked your legs underneath you. “So why go on all of these dates if you find them so tedious?” 

“It’s my mother,” Regulus explained. “She has this list.” 

“A list?” 

“Yes, a list of girls that I’m to court. Noble, pureblooded, proper ladies of society that my mother has deemed worthy of marriage.” 

“You’re seventeen years old. Shouldn’t you be worrying about quidditch games and potions exams?” 

Regulus nodded. “Yes, one would think. But my family has always been different. Since my brother left, my parents have been obsessed with grooming me into becoming the perfect heir.” 

“How do you feel about that?” 

He sighed. “Stifled. Exhausted. Smothered. I can feel the weight of their expectations weighing me down every second of every day.” 

“I’m sorry, Regulus. That’s a terrible burden to carry.” 

Regulus shrugged. “Others have it worse.” 

“It doesn’t mean that your problem is any less heavy.” 

To Regulus, the acknowledgement felt oddly validating. Even though you knew nothing of his circumstance, there was wisdom in your words and you delivered it delicately, like you actually cared to hear his troubles. You were devoid of the judgment he'd grown accustomed to and he found that rather freeing.

“It’s just…sometimes I think that I’ll never be the perfect son. My brother, he’s always been the brave one. Classic Gryffindor,” he said with an eye roll. You chuckled, but stayed silent. It was obvious that Regulus had a myriad of thoughts to unpack tonight and you were more than happy to just listen. “Sirius has never cared what anyone thought about him, least of all our parents. I admire that about him, but I just don’t think I’m wired that way. I care too much.” 

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you said softly. “Apathy is so common nowadays, finding someone who can admit that they care is refreshing. Though, I think it’s not without limits. You can’t please everyone. No matter what you do, someone is going to have something to complain about. You might as well be yourself.” 

“That’s exactly the problem,” Regulus pondered. “All of these girls on my mother's list, I think they like the idea of Regulus Black, but he’s an illusion. It isn’t the real me.” 

“Then who is the real you?” 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m just Reggie. I like playing quidditch and reading depressing literature and memorizing obscure history facts. I hate messy rooms and orange juice and anything that crawls.”  

You smiled. “And what kind of girl does Reggie like?” 

“Someone witty. Someone funny. Someone who’ll argue with me. Someone who doesn’t just nod and agree with everything I say."

"So what you're saying is that you don't want a nice girl?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, I think I need someone who challenges me. Who sees me for who I am rather than what I represent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the girls on my mother’s list are lovely, but I don’t think they’d actually like me if they knew who I really am.” 

“I don’t know, Reggie seems like a great guy. That Regulus bloke, on the other hand…” you scrunched your nose in disapproval. 

“Hey!” Regulus chided, “I’m pouring my heart out to you. That took a lot of courage, you know.” 

“You’re very brave, Reggie,” you said with a grin. “But you know what would be even braver?” 

Regulus squinted in the rain as you stood to your feet. Lightning crackled over the horizon, illuminating you with an ethereal silver glow. You held out your hand to him. “Come dance with me.” 

“Deathly afraid of being struck by lightning, remember?” 

“Sorry, what?” You asked as you shimmied around him. It wasn’t graceful by any means. It was the goofiest thing he’d ever seen and yet he’d never been so enthralled. You danced without a care in the world and it made him genuinely laugh. “I can’t hear you over all the fun I’m having.” 

"This is ridiculous," he said over the roaring thunder.

You shrugged. "Perhaps. But everyone's allowed to be a little ridiculous sometimes. Besides, I was asking Reggie not Regulus."

“Are you really trying to peer pressure me into dancing with you?” 

“That depends,” you replied with a cheeky smile. “Is it working?” 

Regulus conceded with a sigh and leapt to his feet. The youngest Black brother bowed like a proper gentleman. “May I have this dance, my lady?"

“You may, good sir.” 

You grinned up at him as he took you by the waist and waltzed with you across the sand. Surprisingly, Regulus let you take the lead. He chuckled when you stepped on his toes and laughed even harder when you tried to twirl him. Towering a good foot over you, Regulus had to fully crouch for the maneuver to work. 

Finally, you gave up the formality and just spun around in dizzying circles. There was absolutely no rhyme or rhythm to it. Just two idiots dancing in the rain with the biggest smiles on their faces. 

Your coordination, or lack thereof, caused you to almost faceplant into the sand. Regulus yelped as you took him down with you. By the time you recovered from the laughing fit, the two of you were red-faced, out of breath, and laying side by side along the shore. He turned over to you and brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“That was the most fun I’ve had in years.” 

“See? There’s more to life than just being moody and melancholic.” 

“So this mystery girl of mine keeps reminding me,” Regulus said with a smile. “You never told me your name, by the way.” 

“Wow, you don’t even know my name? I’m offended, Reggie. We’ve only been in classes together since fifth year.” 

“I—we’ve never been introduced—” 

You broke out into a smile and giggled. You thought it was cute that Reggie was so easily flustered. “I’m just kidding, Reggie.” 

He sighed in relief as you stuck out your hand. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.” 

Regulus slipped his hand into yours. He cocked his head, studying your eyes and your smile and those cute little dimples. 

Y/N. The last name on his mother’s list. The one he saved for last because he didn’t know who she was. 

The French had a saying—le coup de foudre. The infamous phrase translated to a bolt of lightning or love at first sight. Regulus had long dismissed it as flowery prose, but thanks to his mystery girl, he started to think that maybe the Parisians were onto something because meeting you tonight felt preordained. A date with fate. Like a bolt of lightning streaking through his dark, endless skies.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

You grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Reggie.” 

Regulus smiled and laced your fingers together. He was frozen, it was raining, and he was fairly certain that you were both probably going to catch a cold, but he didn’t care. In that moment, as he stared up at the sky, blinking back the rain, and intertwining his fingers with yours, Regulus had never felt more content. 

So no, Regulus did not believe in love at first sight, but love at second, third, and even fourth glance? He smiled a little as he gazed back at you, letting his gaze linger as he drank in that infectious laugh and sunny grin. 

You made him think that maybe, just maybe, a girl like you could convert a skeptic like him into a devout believer.

[bbydoll18xx]

I've Got a Wand and a Rabbit

Paige stumbles into a sex shop you work at, and you give her some satisfactory customer service.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Themes: sex toys, masturbation, and sex mentioned

A/N: hii so I thought of this idea when I was lounging in my pool and I kinda love it. I have a few ideas for a second part if you guys are up for it

~

“That’ll be 49.95,” you say brightly, your customer service voice on full display, as you carefully wrap an eight inch glass dildo up and put it in a bag. Your customer, a tall, muscular man with shifty eyes and a baseball hat hanging low over his face, quickly swiped his card, avoiding eye contact with you, as you finished the transaction. 

“Have a great day!” You call as he rushes out of the store and into his large pickup truck. 

Ah. The joys of dealing with the closeted ones. It was certainly more appealing than the creepy straight dudes who offered to take you home and prove to you that the vibrators that adorned the entire back wall of the store were not as good as their own dicks. 

That was fucking bullshit.

You had prided yourself in being open with both your sexuality and the joys of sexual pleasure since you were old enough to know what it entailed. And you were not shy about sex or masturbation. It was a totally normal thing. 

You have often referred to yourself as The Fairy Godmother of Orgasms. Each of your friends had been given a vibrator sometime during college, with subtle instructions to learn how to make themselves cum. Because men just aren’t up for the job these days.

So when you picked up a job at the newest, trendiest sex store just outside of Storrs to help make some extra money for school, it seemed like all of the stars aligned. 

You shake your head, giggling at the hilarity of the man’s sheer discomfort and apply a layer of lip gloss to your full, pink lips. There were a few customers lingering in the store but it had been pretty quiet today, as it was the middle of the week. 

A few minutes later, the jinging of the bell on the door alerts you to a group of girls giggling loudly, faces blushing in a way that you had become quite accustomed to seeing in the store. 

College students were your favorite customers, as you loved seeing young women being open about having fun and safe sex lives, and you wave warmly at them.

“Hi there! Just let me know if you have any questions!” You chirp, sending a wink over to the tall blonde girl whose cheeks were the brightest shade of red in the group.

Her face darkens, spreading down the pale skin of her neck as the other girls shove her teasingly, and she almost falls into a rack of lingerie.

Muttering an apology, she fixes the rack, running her hand across her face, glancing back at you before running after her friends where they had assembled in the back of the store. 

Her bumbling behavior amuses you, and it was so unlike her.

You had recognized her from the second she had walked in. Paige Bueckers face was plastered all over UConn’s campus, and you were a victim of the tiktok edits bombarding your phone.

You were a willing victim at that.

Paige was not just a great basketball player. She was also incredibly kind and unusually humble. It also did not help that she was gorgeous, and you were not ashamed to admit that you had thought about those long, nimble fingers and her muscled thighs from time to time. 

Or maybe a little more than that. 

You are pulled out of your increasingly naughty thoughts by loud laughs, and you look over to where KK Arnold is holding up a huge purple dildo.

“Paige, I think this would be perfect for you!” She snorts, sending the other girls into a fit of howls.

You chuckle, putting a hand over your mouth as you observe Paige’s obvious embarrassment from behind the counter.

“God, KK, could you be any louder,” Paige mutters, eyes flickering to where you were pretending not to watch. “Shoulda just bought this shit online.”

“That’s no fun,” Aubrey says, gazing at the section of strap ons with an interested look on her face. 

The bickering continues for a few minutes, with Ice Brady and Aubrey occasionally making a few comments before you decide to go over to the group.

“Is there anything you’re looking for in particular today?” You ask. “I know the selection can be a bit…overstimulating.” You bite your lip as you finish your sentence, inwardly cringing at your provocative choice of words. 

Paige coughs, and KK erupts into another fit of laughter, and before the blonde could even form a word, KK says, “Home girl needs a nice vibrator. She is very single, and the ol’ right hand just ain’t cuttin’ it anymore.”

“Dude, oh my god,” Paige groans, hands once more shielding her face. 

“I totally understand how that is,” you say sympathetically. “Let me show you our most popular vibrators.”

You reach for Paige’s hand, somewhat surprised as she allows you to take it, and you guide her to the back wall. 

“Now this one is a classic. They call it a rabbit because of the cute lil bunny ears, which is great for the clit. And it has a dildo attached, so it’s a two in one type of deal.”

You look up at Paige, trying to gauge her reaction, and she looks completely stunned. Blushing, you put down the brightly colored toy. “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable at all.”

“No, not at all,” Paige mumbles, a far cry from her usual confidence. “This is all just new to me.”

You nod understandingly. 

“This one might be more your speed. It’s called a wand, and it’s perfect for beginners. Not much of a learning curve for this one,” you say, holding out the box for her to inspect. 

The wand was purple and small enough to throw in a discrete bag, and with a rechargeable battery and its waterproofness, it was a fan favorite. 

“Alright, I think I’ll try this one then,” Paige says, her voice a little more sanguine as the initial embarrassment of buying a sex toy wore off. 

Aubrey, KK, and Ice erupt into loud cheers and a round of applause, and Paige responds by giving them the middle finger.

“You guys are hilarious. You should come in more often,” you laugh.

“Maybe I will if you’re working,” Paige responds, looking you up and down. 

It was your turn to blush, her sudden boldness surprising you, and your heart rate jumps at the idea. 

Paige follows you over to the checkout counter, where you ring up the toy, adding your employee discount for good measure before bagging it up and handing it to her, your fingers brushing up against hers as you do so. The contact sends shivers through your body, and you immediately think of your own toys waiting for you in your bedside drawer. 

You were really going to fucking need them after this shift. 

“Have fun. If you ever have any questions, you know where to find me,” you tease, not wanting this to be the last you see of her.

“I will,” Paige responds, sending you a cheeky wave before leaving, her friends in tow.

“She will definitely be back, don’t worry!” KK exclaims, before Paige pulls her out of the store by the hood of her sweatshirt.

You certainly hoped so.

~

Life continued on the next few weeks as normal. You went to work. You went to class. And you spent even more time with your legs spread thinking about Paige. 

You didn’t necessarily mean for it to happen; it just did. If her face was not completely clouding your thoughts before she had stumbled into the store, it was now. Even your dreams were swirled with images of that long blonde hair and her mouth, her tongue peaking out seductively.

And because you were quite single, you had turned to the toys. 

You were walking through campus, eagerly heading back to your apartment after your lecture so you could enjoy yet another solo session, when you spot Paige, KK, and Jana walking up to you.

KK was leading the charge, enthusiastically waving to get your attention, whilst Paige was trailing behind, a shy smile on her face.

“Well look who it is!!” KK teases, introducing you to Jana, who had a knowing look on her face. She reaches a hand out to you. “I’ve heard lots about you,” she smirks in Paige’s direction, who rolls her eyes.

You wave at the blonde, eyes crinkling from the sun and the excitement of seeing her again. “Sooo,” you trail. “Any issues with it?” 

The question was vague, but all three girls seemed to know exactly what you were referring to, and Paige flushes yet again. She looks at the other two girls, shooting them harsh looks until they hesitantly walk away from the two of you, leaving you with the privacy you were dying to have.

Paige coughs. “Um, I haven’t really been able to figure it out, ya know?”

You try not to laugh. “What’s there to figure out? Just turn it on and go to town.” 

“I tried,” she nearly whines, clearly embarrassed.

“And?” You prod, confused as to what she was so obviously missing.

“I couldn’t, ya know, finish,” she mumbles, looking at you with a small pout.

You wanted to kiss the pout right off those lips. 

“Need some help then? I’m kind of a professional,” you suggest boldly, hoping she was feeling the electricity flowing between you. 

“God, yes,” she breathes. 

It was all over from there. 

~

If anyone was wondering, yes my friends do really call me the fairy godmother of orgasms. And yes I am very passionate about my love for vibrators LOL

I hope you enjoyed!! Do we want a part 2??

My inbox is always open

xoxo katy

Part 2

Part 3

[delphi-shield]

instant connection .ᐟ.ᐟ

di!leon x reader - long-distance relationship - part 1

next part

leon's a liar.

he doesn't mean to be. he tells you he works in security because it's easier than explaining the shitshow that is the DSO. you'll ghost him in a few messages anyway - and if you don't, he'll do the honors.

leon. 6'0''. works in security at no. undecided on kids. doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, long-term relationship, open to short. his first picture is of him throwing a peace sign to the camera, hair immaculate. (he'd had to crop out the hideous monster, a writhing mass of flesh and teeth, and now bullets. leon had realized very quickly that most of his selfies were ones he sent to hunnigan and ranged from drowned cat couture, 'forgot my umbrella today' to 'i'll help you train if you want to be a field agent, you're missing out', encouragement in the same frame as his latest monstrosity.)

the only thing completely true on his profile is his name and his status as a non-smoker and newly minted teetotaler. (according to his sobriety chip, he hasn't touched a drink in eight months. he keeps it in the same pocket he used to stash his flask in.) he's probably six foot in his shoes, he figures. that's only a half lie. 'undecided' should be 'unlikely', but that hadn't been an option in the drop down menu. his therapist says he needs to keep himself open to happiness, not to hold his dreams under water and drown them the moment he dares to have hope. it sounds kind of like bullshit, but undecided is the closest he's letting himself get to optimism for the time being. it's the same deal with long-term, open to short - blind optimism undercut by what he knows life has in store for him.

companionship isn't in the cards for him, not in any meaningful way, and that's fine. you get used to it after a while. it dulls out, gets hazy, only really creeps in on lazy weekends when he leaves the window cracked, swept in on sweet-smelling spring breezes.

it's one of those days when he opens his dating app to review his scant few likes. he clears the cobwebs from his profile only often enough to keep it active (there's that hope again). activity was few and far between, usually saved up to have claire or hunnigan go through his options and point out red flags that he would gladly sail right past - but that day, a cavern had opened in his chest. he only knew how to fill it with validation.

you were half-way across the goddamn country. you'd probably liked him weeks ago when you were passing through. seemed like a safe enough bet. more than likely, you'd never respond. even if you did, this would never work out. the distance was crazy.

so of course he messages you.

all right, what's wrong with you?

kind of a weird thing to say to a stranger, but you take it in stride and turn the question back on him when you respond an hour and a half later, the notification so surprising to him that he has to reel back through your profile to see what he's actually dealing with.

the distance makes it safe. there's a buffer between you. unspoken, mutual understanding that this is impractical and a waste of time.

the messages get more frequent. the stilted conversation melted to daily updates, and he'd exchanged phone numbers with you out of convenience. the app was a pain in the ass. he didn't want to get guff for being on a dating app during work hours, but texts were easily hand-waved. daily pictures escalated to weekly calls, which mutated into scheduled movie nights. there were a host of classics he needed to show you. his contribution to society was making one more person culturally conscious of leon s. kennedy's greatest hits.

leon remembers exactly where he was when you'd sleepily confessed that you weren't talking to anyone else. posted up in a hotel in belgium, getting ready for his operation. it was the middle of the night for you. the day loomed ahead of him, loaded with hostility and viscera. you were half asleep. he could have told you anything and you would have hummed and forgot it, nestled into your pillow. he tells you the truth instead, that he'd deleted the app you'd met on, that you're the only one he's talking to as well. it's the closest to commitment he can do and you take that promise to your dreams.

since then, he warns you when he'll be away for a 'business conference', unlikely to respond.

(conference sucked, he messages you from his hospital bed. he's fresh off assignment chest wrapped tight in bandages. he'll be out in a few hours. nothing serious. part of him aches to reassure you about something you didn't even know you had to worry about. execs tried to eat me alive out there.)

leon realizes he's fucked when he pays more attention to you, pinned to the top right corner of his laptop, than the cheesy horror-comedy you'd picked out for movie night. one hand itches for the bottle and the other itches for you, imagining what it would feel like with your weight dipping the mattress next to him, how his hand might fit against the arc of your hip - the movie on the big screen, not his laptop, still ignored in favor of watching you.

"are you even paying attention?" your voice crackles over the speaker, competing with the honking of a clown nose. he's lost the plot of the movie, doesn't quite understand where all the clowns came from (outer space, he thinks, but that would be ridiculous). he's too busy replaying your voice in his head, imagining it slower, sleepier, pressed into his shoulder.

"yeah, of course."

"uh-huh," you hum doubtfully.

you encourage him to pay attention to the next scene, pointing as if that will do anything when there's so many miles between you. something about the practical effects. he tries, honest to god, but his eyes keep drifting up to you.

he's not a monster. he waits til the movie is over to spring his stupid idea on you. leon respects the sanctity of film, the intimacy of showing your favorites with another person and the anxious hope that they'll understand the piece of you you're trying to share with them.

but he can't get the idea out of his head, and he'll make it up to you with a thorough analysis of the movie next time you have a movie date because if he doesn't say this now he's going to pussy out.

"listen, i was thinking," he ruminates, taking his time to chew his words. plenty of time to back out. leon's grown good at identifying what sort of anxiety is brewing in his gut - perks of the job - and he knows he'll kick himself if he back out now.

"that's rare."

"hilarious. i'm serious, i've been thinking. i've got some time off built up. if i don't use it by the end of the year, they don't pay it out. company's a bunch of cheap asses."

he's talking in circles and you've already reached the ending. he leans a little closer to the screen, hopes the look in your eye is glee and not fear.

"so..." leon trails off. plenty of room to back out. if you don't grasp this he'll just ask for travel tips and lick his wounds somewhere warm and tropical.

but you don't offer that. you sit up a little straighter. he swears that's a smile that you're fighting to keep down. "so...how soon are you thinking?"

casual. nice.

"as soon as possible." less casual. shit. "i was thinking a week. is that--?"

"that's great. can you let me know the dates?"

"yeah. yeah, of course."

this is going too well. too smoothly.

leon takes a breath, combs his fingers through his hair.

"we are talking about me coming to visit, right?"

you laugh at him. he's never been so happy to be laughed at.

"yeah, leon. you're coming to visit."

"just making sure."

it's impractical. it's unlikely. his therapist is going to have a field day next session. he still hasn't figured out what to do when you find out that 'security' had been a very misleading description of his work, or when you figure out that he's only 5'10'' on a good day. none of it is fair to you, he realizes, but booking his flight is his first step in trying to do right by you.

"i'll pick you up from the airport," you insist.

"i want a sign with my name on it."

"i'll put 'kennedy' on it and wear a suit and sunglasses so people think you're a big deal."

"i kind of am a big deal."

you roll your eyes. "oh, my mistake."

if only you knew that was the truth.

dividers from @/adornedwithlight

[riizebabie444]

𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚

─── hey everyone, back with another pac. this one is about your future spouse and your family life with them. please remember to support with reblogs and feedback!

i'm currently going through a tough time financially and would appreciate if you considered booking a reading with me <3

─── picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image. your eyes may gravitate to one, or you may close your eyes and feel which image is calling out.

─── be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

ʚɞ ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.

donations. games/events. feedback.

pile one

who is your future spouse?

with the hermit and the queen of swords, i see your future spouse being an introverted person, they like to spend a lot of time alone. perhaps this is because of past relationships that made them prefer to be alone, but i also see a case where they just like being alone because they would rather have zero connections that put up with bullshit people. they trust their inner guidance and don't force themselves to be around people that don't add value to their lives.

in that sense, they say it how it is. if they're not happy about something, they'll make it clear. they are perceptive and hate when others have hidden agendas or sly intentions. they can see right through it. they're a quick thinker, intellectual and emotionally intelligent. but sometimes a bit to harsh and strict with both themselves and others. they can be judgemental sometimes. however, they are a wise person who cuts through the noise. they see the truth easily.

how will they love you?

with two of pentacles and eight of pentacles, they seem like a practical lover. they seem like more of a traditional lover too. not necessarily in the way that they will fulfil traditional gender roles in a relationship, but in the sense that they seek balance above all else. they want to be on equal grounds with someone, and understand a relationship and love in general takes a lot of work. so they will fulfil the role in the relationship that you both expect of them, and they also expect the same from you.

they will work hard to meet your standards, so you will also need to work hard to meet their standards. they show their love with equality, equal effort, equal treatment. for most of you guys, this doesn't mean equality with money etc, like splitting the date costs. but more so about the effort you both put in. that being said, they will put in a lot of effort. relationships are an investment so you will definitely feel like they are investing in you by maybe spending money on you, spending time with you, sharing things with each other. they don't love for what they can gain, they love for what they can share with you.

while you are dating, i do not think they are the most romantic person. they are more practical than romantic but that doesn't mean the feeling aren't there. they just express their love in different ways because that is how the circumstances they've experienced has shaped them. i do see they have big love for you and they try really hard to show it, but it won't always be in the ways you want or expect.

family life with your spouse

with knight of cups and justice, family life however does seem more romantic. i think living together and having a domestic life together will definitely change how they express their love. they will be more obvious with their feelings and needs for you, they will adapt and express their love in the ways you like. i'm seeing more romance and grand gestures which they may not have understood prior to marriage. but after marriage and having a family, they understand it better and will show you. they will be a lot more emotional also.

i see they will still be practical. they could be a bit strict about routines, especially with children. though, family life will open up both of your emotions as there is so much to explore with a family. i see it being very chill and peaceful, some conflicts here and there but honestly, family life seems nice. it will be fair and equal. you will both contribute to the home fairly, they will recognise when either one of you is doing too much or not doing enough, and then they will work to balance it out. i see fair treatment for all children, like no favouritism or double standards. i see a lot of accountability and responsibility. family life seems so mature but in a good way.

pile two

who is your future spouse?

with ten of wands and justice, they seem like a burdened person. they have experienced a whole lot in their lives. they are someone who is afraid of being judged, they might deal with anxiety, but they try not to show it. they are someone who bottles feelings up instead of sharing them. they may be dealing with struggles when you meet them, but overall, they are talented and hard-working. but may sometimes work too hard and burn themselves out.

they have a lot integrity though. if they say they're gonna do something, they will. this could also indicate they have a hard time saying no so they often end up having too much to do which leads to them feelings overwhelmed and exhausted. honestly, your spouse seems like a bit of a mess, they need more balance in their lives. i think they're prone to escapism. i'm supposed to be getting positive messages but with this pile, their messy energy is strong. they have good morals, they won't ever do something they know is inherently bad. they are law-abiding, and maybe follow the rules too strictly. but they are also a lover of simplicity. simple is beautiful to them, and they pay attention to details.

how will they love you?

with the knight of pentacles and wheel of fortune, i think your spouse meeting you is a pivotal point in their life. like they will experience so much clarity in your journey together, and i'm seeing it can help them to change their ways. naturally, they are a good planner so they will love planning things for you. for examples, planning nice dates that fit your taste exactly or planning surprise gifts for you. they'll take notice of all the things you like and don't like, everything they learn about you will be stored in their brain for future reference. they will be hard working when you are with them, in their job, with their family, in your relationship. this energy is different to their overall energy, so i'm seeing they will really change when meeting you or prior to meeting you. they will start to get their life in order.

they will be so kind and loving, they won't let anyone treat you bad. they will also try to deter you from bad decisions also. i mentioned already they are strict with morals, so if you try to do something they don't view as good, they will try to stop you. not in a way to control you but to show you how to be the better person and not stooping to low levels. like, of course they will defend you. but say if you're just being petty or bitter and it is influencing your decision, they will guide you to the better path. they will love you by constantly reminding you how they think destiny brought you together. they will rejoice in your successes and share their own with you.

family life with your spouse

with the hermit and the chariot, i see that you guys will be very private. i think after getting married, you guys might become recluses but it is just because you guys want to spend so much time together without anyone else bothering you. i think maybe you guys might move somewhere new to start your family so you might not know a lot of people, which can also explain your guys' privacy. i see so many late night talks throughout your lives together. you would not get bored of hearing each other talk. you would also help each other uncover your dark pasts and difficult emotions, and face them together.

i see you guys having a lot of willpower. if there's something you want to do as a couple or a family, you will do it. i see children for some of you and not children for others, so take it as it resonates. you will make decisions that will be in alignment with your values. as a family, i see a whole lot of determination. not letting outside influences get to you or your children. you guys would overcome anything. i see so much mundane, day to day domesticity, but also balanced out with exploration of the world. your family could have regular holidays to travel the world. you could have an active family also, like physically active but also just active in the community. if you have children, i see them being very goodhearted. you would raise them well.

pile three

who is your future spouse?

with the moon and ace of pentacles, i'm getting lucky girl/boy syndrome from your spouse. they feel so young-spirited, but they have also experienced a lot. i'm also seeing pretty privilege, so they would be very attractive, and perhaps it helps them to get the things they want in life. however, i think they are quite emotional, and they have a big imagination. they dream of big things, and bright and eventful future. and i think they are known for being caring and nurturing. they have a lot of empathy. but although they are emotional, i see them being quite practical too.

it seems like they're good with money, they don't have a lot of trouble finding good jobs. overall, you will think they are so lucky. security and stability is important to them though, so that's why they are happier and brighter when things go their way. they like to embrace new beginnings but they will always consider the risk. they might come off as careless and impulsive but honestly a lot of thought goes behind all of their actions. they don't do things for the sake of doing them, but rather to enrichen their lives with experiences. i see they may be into manifestation and even spirituality. they try to work on their limiting beliefs because they don't want to be the person holding themselves back. they may look very positive and extroverted, but deep down, they are sensitive and introspective.

how will they love you?

with the knight of wands and the well reversed, i see them being the one to approach you. they will bring opportunities to you, push you out of your comfort zone and help you move closer towards your own dreams. they will be so enthusiastic around you. you absolutely won't be worrying about whether they like you or not because they will show it. if they like you and want to be around you, you will know. and if they don't, then they will also make that clear. they wear their heart on their sleeves. i see them trying to be a bit manly though, whether this is a man or a woman. they will try to act like a macho man which they will enjoy, but just trust that they are also heartfelt and have big feelings even when they wear this mask approaching you.

they will be patient with you, but only to an extent. like, they hate the feeling of waiting for forever. they are excited about what is to come so they will be uncomfortable if you make them feel stuck in place or if you are stuck in the past. they will show their love by helping you overcome your past, helping you close the old chapters of your life before heading onto the new one. i'm seeing that their energy will not be cold or stagnant, though sometimes i see you are the one who makes the relationship feel that way. and they will show their love by not giving up on you, they will bring you along to better places even if they have to drag you. they hate seeing you hung up on the past.

family life with your spouse

with the ace of cups and five of swords reversed, i definitely see you both overcoming troubles from the past after marriage. family life is a new beginning for you both. you or them or both could be very excited for children, for having a home together. it feels almost dreamy when you guys live together. it feels like you both will blossom and thrive as a family, so many new experiences and emotions. romance will also increase. i see you will also meet so many new people, like family members or new friends. you will be surrounded by good people, your spouse will make sure of that and to get rid of anyone who treats you how you were treat in the past.

any conflicts you guys come across, i see you guys resolving them and moving forward stronger. some may just be minor so it is easy to move past them, but even the bigger conflicts, you will both work on them. you guys won't run away at the first sign of trouble, you will stick together even when you hate it and eventually it will turn out good again. there is a lot of compromise and communication. it's not always going to be easy but i see time and time again, you guys will get through it. this isn't the type of marriage and family you want to walk away from, it's the type you want to fight for. so every time, you will always move forward and create positive changes for each other and your children.

© riizebabie444 — all rights reserved. please do not copy, steal, repost or translate my readings on any site. any act of which will be classed as plagiarism.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (16/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece •female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, dirty talk, smut, the angst, murder, character death, miscarriage and the trauma associated with it, panic attack, mafia stuff, brutal violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn’t let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father’s mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra’s husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin’s brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She was pregnant.

Although, according to all moral and social norms, she should have been crying in despair, she was happy: touching her belly with her hand, she felt nothing but love for this little being that was slowly growing inside her.

The fruit of their warm, deep, sincere affection.

The knowledge that she was not alone helped her when it was time for her to meet the staff for whom she was to be responsible from now on. Aemond insisted on being with her, fearing for some reason for her and the baby, she, however, knew that this was something she had to do alone.

Their stares when she walked into the VIP room in which she had ordered the meeting told her everything – grown men and women who looked as if they had seen far too much in their lives watched her in disbelief.

She knew they thought with disapproval that she was just a little girl, a whore who had been given this place as a gift by their boss that she wouldn't know what to do with, pestering them with her stupid bullshit.

She sat down in one of the empty armchairs, a few people lit cigarettes and grunted, other than that, complete silence all around her.

"I know what you're thinking and you're right. The fact that I have taken over these premises is a form of security for me. In true, not only for me, but also for you. Aemond will stop the flow of drugs through these and two other places that used to belong to my father. I have no intention of changing managers or leadership, quite the contrary – I want to talk to you about what you need. I want this to be a clean, legitimate business that is profitable. No drastic changes." She said, looking at them expectantly, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

A few people twisted in their seats, others looked at each other.

Silence.

Obviously they didn't trust her.

"Think whatever you want about me. It doesn't matter. Know, however, that my stepfather no longer threatens you, and Aemond will still protect this place. All I ask for is loyalty. If there is a problem with something, come to me with it, not to my uncle, or he will be furious. Now get back to work, I want to stay with the manager." She said calmly.

All but one man who could easily be her father got up from their seats and walked out, leaving them alone.

"This is not a toy you can just pick up and have." He said finally, firing up the lighter, leaning over the flame with his cigarette.

"I don't see it as a toy. We can all gain something if we accept each other. Would you rather keep wallowing in this shit and selling ecstasy to young kids? Don't you have children of your own?" She asked coolly, and the man snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

"I do. Three. Two sons and a daughter. Each of them works here. The sons as security guards and the daughter behind the bar." He said dryly and she swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on her back.

Fuck.

Had she just insulted him?

"You let your own kids do drugs? Do you want them to be arrested with you if the police come by here, as part of family integration?" She asked, and he sighed heavily, taking a loud drag on his cigarette.

"I didn't say that." He replied, letting the smoke out through his mouth.

"And I don't want that either. Help me protect you." She insisted, and he looked at her finally, as if he had made up his mind.

"You're just like your father."

She exhaled loudly, in an involuntary reflex she'd been holding back for the last few hours touching her lower abdomen as soon as the car door closed behind her.

"And how was it? Everything okay?" Her uncle asked, immediately grasping her hand in his, looking at her expectantly, tense.

"They are difficult people. Difficult, but tired. They don't want problems. They get used to it." She said quietly, exhausted and sleepy.

She looked at him, a worry in his eyes but also a tenderness from which she felt warm in her heart.

"Take me home."

The road to the sea was getting terribly long, perhaps because once in a while she felt an unpleasant twinge in her stomach, indicative of what was about to happen.

"– no – no, stop the car, stop the car –" She muttered, and he immediately pulled over to the side of the road – she only managed to open the door before she vomited on the grass, panting heavily.

"– oh, baby – why don't you lie down in the back seat? – you'll be more comfortable –" She heard his voice, his broad hand stroking her back.

Ever since they'd found out they were going to be parents he'd been so tender, so good, so sweet.

Exactly like he had been back then.

"– okay –" She mumbled and swallowed hard, wiping her mouth with her handkerchief. She unbuckled her seatbelt, climbed out and opened the door in the back, laying down on both passenger seats, closing her eyes.

"– sleep, little one – I'll drive slowly – we're not in any hurry –" He said, looking at her in the rear view mirror, and she nodded.

She flinched when she felt the car finally stop – she heard someone open the door, the fresh air and his familiar hands enveloped her, lifting her up, and she clung to him like a small child. He carried her into the house, to a room that belonged to him, where they had set up their makeshift bedroom for the time of renovation.

She felt him lay her gently on the bed, taking his place beside her a moment later, embracing her from behind.

"– you're tiring your mummy terribly –" He whispered, stroking her belly with lazy, calm motions of his hand. "– you need to let her rest –"

She smiled, allowing herself to fall asleep again, this time in his embrace. Her uncle often addressed their child as if the baby could already understand him – he was making a connection this way, realising that he was really going to become a father.

He was involved in everything about preparing for the arrival of their child into the world – they decided to dedicate the room she slept in that summer holiday to their future offspring and repainted it together, sticking cute glow-in-the-dark stickers on the walls in the shape of various planets and stars.

With some things, they had to wait because they didn't know if the baby was going to be a boy or a girl.

"It cost me a lot of money, but I made it. I have written permission from the Archbishop. Rhaenys, we can marry." He said to her one morning, holding a piece of paper in front of him that was to change their lives.

A dispensation for a church wedding.

"We need witnesses." She muttered, gripping his hand in hers. Her uncle nodded, as if he knew she'd said it.

"I know, Helaena agreed. I didn't want to decide about another person for you." He said, and she smiled, feeling grateful.

He became more open, more affectionate, always thinking of her and her needs too.

She knew who she wanted by her side.

"I know I'm asking a lot and that I'm not entitled to it. I know your father will be furious if you say yes, but… you have always been close to my heart. You didn't judge me. I wish I had you with me on this day." She mouthed in a breaking voice, standing alone in the bathroom with her phone pressed to her ear, wiping her face wet with tears.

She heard Baela swallow hard, shocked by her words.

For a long moment, they were both silent.

"– I – God – I've always felt you were in pain – only now I know why and I'm sorry you've been alone with this for so long – I don't want you to not have your bridesmaid on your wedding day – just tell me when and where –" She muttered and she burst out into a quiet sob, feeling relieved.

"– forgive me – forgive me for being such a disgusting person –" She choked out, whooping, feeling that she had finally described herself truly.

She had fucked her own uncle and was going to have a baby with him.

She was sick.

Baela drew in a loud breath.

"– stop – if he was your own birth brother, it would be much, much worse – on the positive side, he's actually only half your uncle –" She said, and for some reason she burst out laughing.

God.

"– right – it's a good thing I didn't choose Jace –" She mumbled, and Baela snorted.

"– exactly – let's stick to that –" She said.

"– it would be funny if the police burst into the church and arrested us –" She sneered, fiddling with the soft towel hanging on the rack, imagining commandos with guns ordering them to fall to the ground.

"– for what? – for drug dealing or for incest? –" Baela scoffed, and she giggled under her breath.

"– for everything – the list of crimes is long –" She said with a smile, for some reason feeling lighter.

It was the first time she had ever talked to someone about it completely honestly.

She shuddered when she heard a loud knock on the door.

"Rhaenys? Are you all right?" She heard his concerned voice.

Ever since he had found her in the bath then, he had been afraid if she stayed in the bathroom too long.

"Yes. I'm talking to Baela. She agreed." She called out to him.

"That's great." He said with sincere relief, as if he was afraid she would suffer another disappointment and rejection from her family.

They hadn't planned to invite any guests to the event, have a dinner together or anything of the sort – they knew that most of their family felt there was nothing to celebrate, and for them, as it wasn't a state wedding, it only had symbolic significance.

Helaena helped her choose the right dress – she wanted to look special that day, because even though their nuptials were going to be bittersweet, she was, in the eyes of God, going to be his wife.

"– oh – look – this one is lovely –" Helaena hummed, taking from the rack a long, white gown with a cut-out back and lace at the neckline and the ends of the delicate, long sleeves.

"– you're right – it would match the flowers in my hair –" She said, in her perfect image of herself that day wishing she had daisies woven into her curls.

Helaena dropped her off in the car at a shop near their house and they said their goodbyes – she needed nothing so much as a walk and some fresh air, however, she wanted to cook them dinner too, knowing that her fiancé would be back late.

Since he had started telling her about his affairs, what he needed to do and where he needed to go, she felt calmer and his absence no longer frightened her so much.

Besides, he wasn't leaving her alone anymore, she thought, touching her stomach happily, looking curiously at the shelves full of different kinds of pasta, searching for the perfect one for spaghetti.

She shuddered, having the feeling that someone had rubbed against her by accident, but then she felt that person holding something against her back.

"Be quiet and leave the shop slowly." She heard a cold, unfamiliar voice behind her and froze, feeling her heart leap up into her throat, a cold sweat on her back.

She looked to the side, wondering if she should scream, if anyone would help her, not knowing if this man held a gun or a knife against her body.

"Don't try anything or I'll butcher you like a pig." He said, as if he was reading her mind, and she swallowed hard, feeling burning tears of terror under her eyelids, her body involuntarily began to tremble.

She simply moved towards the exit, and the man she was afraid to look at put his arm around her like he was her boyfriend, clamping his hand firmly on her waist to make sure she didn't try to escape.

As soon as they left she sprang up to throw herself into a run, but the man grabbed her waist and clamped his hand over her mouth – she bit him with a loud squeal, but he only hissed, not letting her go, hiding behind the wall of the shop, two other men got out of the car.

One of them, a blond man with a beard and blue eyes had a scars on his left cheek.

"– come on, what the fuck are you waiting for – faster –" Tyland Lannister growled, and the man who was clearly his bodyguard forced her to bow her head and forcibly shoved her into the back seat, closing the door behind her.

She burst out crying, curling up as Tyland sat down next to her and the two men took their seats in front, driving away with a squeal of tyres.

"– shut the fuck up – be a good girl and no harm will come to you – I need to clear up a few things with your uncle –" He said lightly – only when she looked at him did she notice that he held in his hand a gun pointed towards her.

She pressed her body against the car door, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head.

"– please – please let me out, I'm pregnant – I –" She mumbled out and squealed, leaning forward, feeling a sudden, penetrating pain in her lower abdomen, and then another and another.

She began to pant loudly in terror, and wailed as Tyland slapped the back of her head with an open palm.

"– stop pretending – I told you to fucking calm down, I won't do anything to you – I won't –" He muttered and fell silent, looking with her at the drop of blood that ran down her thigh from under her dress.

She covered her mouth with her hands and screamed loudly, falling into sheer hysteria, the man in front cursed, telling her to shut up, and Tyland just stared at her, his mouth wide open.

"– stop –" He muttered. "– fuck, God, stop, stop, stop –"

"– here? – boss, we're in the middle of a country road –"

"– STOP, I SAID –"

The car stopped at the side of the road with a screech of tyres in a way that made her hit her head on the seat in front of her – Tyland opened the door, grabbed her ankle and dragged her out of the car like an animal, leaving her on the grass, then got back inside.

The car drove off.

She just breathed, whooping with tears, looking at the grass around her and the tree trunks, feeling a horrible warm stickiness between her thighs, twitching all over, not having the strength or the will to get up.

After a while some other car stopped beside her, the people inside screamed in terror and got out, a woman who could have been her mother ran up to her and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Good God, I think they raped her."

No, she thought.

They took something much more precious from me.

She heard his loud, frightened breath as she lay in the hospital bed, the policemen standing beside her grunted at the sight of him.

"Are you her family?" Asked one of them.

"Y-yes, I'm her uncle. Good God, what happened?" He mumbled in a breaking voice.

"Your niece was found by a woman on a country road, thrown out of some car. She immediately informed us, suspecting that a rape had taken place, however, the cause of the bleeding was a sudden stress-induced miscarriage. The victim does not speak and does not want to say who did this to her. Could you please…"

The man did not finish as she heard him burst into a loud, mournful sob, felt the touch of his hands on her body, his face pressed into her hair, his broken, heavy breath.

Her eyebrows arched in pain, a single, lonely tear ran down her face.

Daemon had warned her.

The hours, the voices, the smells merged into one for her – she heard her uncle's voice, her mother's voice, she smelled their scent and touch, she heard their weeping and despair, but she herself felt like she was dreaming awake, feeling and experiencing nothing.

She felt herself awake when she heard another familiar voice.

"Did she say something?"

"No. She's silent. There's no contact with her. She's in shock." Her mother muttered, and Daemon embraced her, looking her straight in the eyes.

She felt something – she felt her heart hit harder in her chest, her eyebrows arched in misery, her breath caught in her throat.

"– baby – baby, please, say something to me –" She heard her uncle's whisper and only after a moment did she realise that he had been lying next to her on the bed all this time, that he had been stroking her head, that he had been looking at her, that he had been crying like a little baby.

"– get out for a while – leave us alone –" Daemon said – her uncle opened his mouth, furious, but she spoke up before he could say anything.

"– I want to talk to my dad –"

Everyone around her fell silent – Rhaenyra walked over to her brother and took his hand, explaining to him in a whisper that they would be back soon, that she was no longer in danger, that everything would be all right.

She felt herself quivering all over when Daemon took the chair and sat down beside her bed exactly as he had done then, after she had tried to take her own life.

She looked at him, into his bright, piercing eyes, and thought that this was what he was trying to protect her from.

"I wanted this child, dad. Very, very much." She muttered and closed her eyes, feeling the blissful emptiness she had surrounded herself with begin to crack, the pain that pierced her body, her heart so strong that she sobbed.

"I know." He replied.

"Is the baby…is the baby still inside me?" She choked out with difficulty, whooping with her own tears, feeling like she couldn't catch her breath.

"No. I'm very sorry, but no. It was too early, the baby was not yet formed. Nothing could be done." He said and she clamped her hands on her lower abdomen, thinking she felt like ripping out her uterus and other entrails because they were useless.

She was full and suddenly empty again.

She felt her father's hand on her arm, his fingers strong, his embrace giving her a sense of security.

"I have abandoned you. I chose my own pride. I knew he would want to take revenge on him. If I had given you my protection, it would never have happened. Forgive me." He said, and she closed her eyes, thinking that she wanted to become nothingness and disappear.

Despite Daemon continuing to speak to her, she fell into a state of half-sleep again, unable to think about it – her mind was repressing everything that had happened and waiting, although she didn't know what for.

What was she actually waiting for?

For her baby, she thought.

Little girl or little boy will be born in a few months.

No, she realised.

Not any more.

Tears ran down her face, but no sound came out of her mouth.

She saw him – her uncle stood in the doorway of her hospital room drenched in tears, trembling like a small child, just like she had been when she came into his room then, terrified of the darkness.

Darkness surrounded him, and he was frightened.

She didn't want him to be afraid.

He cried out loudly when she reached out her hand to him – she realised it was already dark around him when his body snuggled against hers, when he embraced her and kissed her cheek, when his face snuggled into her skin.

They lay, just breathing, holding hands – there was something comforting about that – in his silence. The fact that he knew there were no words of comfort, of justification, of absolution for them.

What did exist, however, were their bodies, warm and familiar, clinging to each other to find shelter.

She fell asleep, wrapped in his scent.

"I know you think this is my fault. That you will never forgive me." She heard his voice as if from a distance – she blinked, surprised to see that it was already daylight all around her, that her uncle was sitting beside her in a chair, looking at his hands.

Days flew by between her fingers.

How long had it been since that incident?

Since when had she been empty?

She pressed her lips together, feeling nothing but rage.

"I want Tyland Lannister." She hissed in a cold, shaking voice, and he looked at her in shock.

They stared at each other for a moment – his lower lip twitched when he suddenly realised what had happened, something in his gaze that had always frightened her, but now pleased her.

Aemond

Emptiness.

It seemed to him that he had simply gone through all the phases of grief – from despair, through denial, to a state of complete indifference.

His child, whom he had so desperately wanted, was no longer there.

He thought it would help to give the baby a funeral, even though they had nothing to bury – that's why they put the glowing stickers they had stuck on the walls of the room that was to belong to their child in a small box and buried it under a tree in the garden of their house.

She wanted the thing that would remind her of their loss to be close by, so that she could look at it every morning from her window.

It was an ordeal they lived through together, and although they suffered, they found relief in each other's arms.

She let him take her for the first time two weeks after it happened.

Lying in front of him in his embrace, she took his hand in hers and slowly guided it down under the material of her panties – she surprised him with this, because he was convinced that the vision of him touching her like this would be something disgusting to her – she, however, was wet.

He couldn't hide how much he missed her, and after a moment they were both naked from the waist down, fucking each other like animals with loud smacks of their hips, wanting nothing more than to feel fulfilled and relieved – the release he felt when he finally came inside her was like a revelation, her body hot and sweaty in his embrace, her little cunt pulsing on his erection, sucking his seed.

I'll give you another baby, he thought tenderly, kissing her long neck, not saying it out loud though, not wanting her to think he had already reconciled himself to their loss.

I will give you another baby, and then another and another.

We will be a big, happy family.

If he could say that anything good had come out of this awfully sad situation, it was that their families had begun to talk to each other again – Otto and Daemon couldn't forgive the murder of their grandchild, and Alicent, Rhaenyra, Jace and Baela had watched over his niece in his absence, looking after her.

Even Aegon asked him for a meeting, which was strange and downright comical. His brother put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

"We're going to catch that son of a bitch."

The only person who was afraid to meet them was Helaena, blaming herself for what had happened despite the fact that neither he nor his Rhaenys resented her.

"She said she wanted to go shopping. Your house and the beach was across the street. I-I had the security guards go and take her dress to your house. She wanted to take a walk, she insisted. I…"

"Stop. You are not the one who did this to her. No one is blaming you." He said calmly, staring dully ahead, sitting in his car, feeling that his heart, his skin, his body, his breath were cold.

I want Tyland Lannister.

He licked his lower lip when he spotted his silhouette in the distance, coming out of one of the clubs surrounded by a few of his thugs, surely for protection.

Jason helped his brother move to another city, hoping they would never find him.

But he was wrong.

"I have to go." He said and hung up, starting the engine, dialing another number.

He never thought that he'd talk to him of his own free will.

And yet.

"He just left."

He followed him for a few streets, driving a few cars behind him, feeling strangely calm and patient – he had the impression that there were no more tears he could cry or screams he could shout.

His persona had come full circle, becoming again exactly who he had been before she had called him that evening for the first time in eight years.

He smiled, seeing that they had realised that someone was following them, trying to change direction suddenly – as he had predicted, they had fallen straight into their trap, and hundreds of loud gunshots rang out around the corner.

He pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out of the car, watching as Daemon's men slaughtered Tyland's men one by one, surprised by the manhunt from both sides, unprepared for such a sudden, merciless attack.

"– please –" Tyland mumbled, crawling on the ground at Daemon's feet – his sister's husband held a baseball bat in his hand, all dirty from his blood.

He thought with amusement that Lannister's face looked like a squashed tomato.

Together with Daemon, he dragged him, moaning and crying, to the boot of his car, locking him in there, and together they set off without exchanging a word.

By the time they reached the house by the sea there was only an hour left until dawn – Tyland had passed out in the boot from a lack of oxygen, and a strong kick to the liver revived him, making him draw in air loudly and cough, spitting up blood.

"– no – no, no, no, no, please, no –" He whined as they began dragging him along the ground towards the door, leaving a trail of his blood on the ground behind them.

When they walked into the house they threw him to his knees in front of her – his Rhaenys looked at his hunched, pathetic figure sitting in front of him on the couch in a white dress he was seeing for the first time, a knife in her hand.

Was this supposed to be her wedding gown?

I have taken away your purity and innocence, he thought with pain, looking at her with adoration.

Kora was no longer there.

Only Persephone was left.

His Queen of the Hades.

He longed to lie down at her feet and simply abide.

"– I lost someting because of you –" She said and raised herself up, touching her lower abdomen. "– my baby didn't even manage to take their first breath –"

He closed his eyes, feeling the squeeze in his throat, the pain he felt in his heart unbearable.

"– I didn't know – I didn't know, I'm sorry, I didn't know –" Tyland mumbled, because of how swollen his face was his words were indistinct and difficult to understand.

Standing over him, in her white dress, with a knife in her hand and with her beautiful hair loose, she looked like a ghost.

Like Death.

"– you threw me out of the car like an animal – you left me to die and drove away –" She whispered, tears one after another rolling down her beautiful, tired, pale face.

She had waited so long for this.

For relief.

For justice.

But no more.

"– please – please –" He begged, and she took a step towards him and knelt before him, looking straight into his eyes.

"– let me, Rhaenys –" He muttered, not wanting her to burden herself with this, to dream nightmares like him, to suffer like him because of what she had done.

"– no – I want to feel the life drain out of him – as it did out of me, then –" She said, and the knife she held in her hand stabbed into his side like butter.

Tyland wailed, grabbing the hilt, but Daemon held him down, preventing him from moving – he saw her slide the blade out, a huge bloodstain spilling down his shirt, dripping down his leg straight onto the foil-lined floor.

"That's enough. I'll take care of the rest. Take a bath and burn everything." Daemon instructed, laying Tyland's barely alive body on the ground, his breathing shallow until his eyes went blank.

His soul had left his body.

"Come." He said to her, taking the knife from her palm, placing it on the floor. He nodded at Daemon and grabbed her hand, leading her upstairs to the bathroom where the bathtub was.

Her entire dress and hands were in blood.

"Come here, little one. Come, let's wash it all off. It's okay, honey." He whispered, hugging her close, sinking his hands into her soft, smooth curls, and she reciprocated the embrace, sighing, closing her eyes as if relieved.

"Thank you."

Again she lay in the bath red with blood, again she was pale, however this time he felt that the life was not escaping from her, but returning to her – with each passing minute her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide as if her mind had returned to reality.

"Is he dead?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, washing away with his hands any trace of what they had done from her beautiful, innocent body.

"He's no longer here. He's disappeared. He was just a monster from the wardrobe, nothing more, my love." He said quietly and she sighed, her hand touching his face.

"Do you still love me?" She asked in a trembling voice, and he looked at her, shocked.

"You are the love of my life. You need to rest. You are very tired. You haven't slept well in a long time. You're daydreaming." He replied, taking an unruly strand of hair from her face, her gaze warm and tender, meant only for him.

"Are you not disgusted with me? I've done something monstrous. I think I killed someone." She whispered, her eyes full of tears.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, pressing his forehead against hers, stroking her hair as if she were a small child. "– I forbid you to say such things – it will be our secret – mine, yours and your dad's – only we will know about it –"

"– about the monster from the wardrobe? –" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

Rhaenys

"– I'm scared, mummy – can I have my little lamp lit today too? –" Aemma muttered, but before she could answer her anything, she heard a voice from the bed above them, belonging to Visenya.

"– no, I can't sleep then –" Her older sister hissed, looking down at them, the bright curls she had inherited from her father in disarray.

"– I'm afraid of the monster from the television – the one from the horror movie that Aegon was watching –" Her daugther said in a breaking voice, and she furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"– I told you this is not a film for small children –" She said sternly, and Aemma lowered her gaze on the verge of crying.

Vinseya groaned in frustration and climbed down the ladder, lying down under the duvet next to her little sister.

"– move along, coward – I'll kill any monster that disturbs my sleep –" Her daughter muttered, and she smiled and stood up, turning off the lamp.

"– good night –" She hummed and left, closing the door behind her.

She sighed, seeing the light on in his office, and moved lazily in that direction, finding him bent over documents. He glanced at her, then at the silhouette of her naked body hidden only beneath a soft silk bathrobe, and licked his lower lip with his tongue.

"– I'll come soon – give me a moment longer –"

"– talk to Aegon tomorrow – he mustn't let Aemma watch horror movies with himself because she is afraid afterwards – she's too little –" She said.

He shook his head, signing a few things.

"– I'll try, but you know him – he'll find a thousand excuses and explanations –" He grunted, and she laughed under her breath.

"– he resembles your brother –" She said amused, leaning her hip against the doorframe, and he snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth lifted upwards.

"– indeed –" He said and looked up at her, his gaze again escaping down to her breasts and then even lower.

"Come here. Sit on the desk." He said, leaning back in his chair, and she obeyed his command with a smile, walking closer with a lazy step.

He stood up as soon as her buttocks touched the tabletop, spreading her thighs apart, making her have to reach back with her hand to catch her balance.

"– ah –" She gasped as his fingertips sank into her fleshy, warm womanhood, collecting her sticky wetness.

"– since when are you in this state? – hm? –" He hummed, pushing her closer to him with an impatient tug of his hand on her ass, the other digging warningly into her delicate skin, trailing it around her swollen clit.

"– since this morning – since I saw you come out wet and naked from the bathroom in our bedroom – I've needed you, and you haven't touched me –" She mewled regretfully, feeling her walls clench greedily around nothing, craving him inside her.

What he heard was enough for all his foreplay, and with her help he quickly undid the belt of his trousers, his breath heavy and hitched.

"– after all, I fucked you last night – I had to drive Aegon and Visenya to training – you could have joined me in the shower –" He exhaled, impatiently releasing his long, hard erection from his boxers.

She sighed and tilted her head back as, without even waiting for her response, he directed the head of his cock against her slit, opening her wide on his fat length, filling her with himself with one, lazy thrust.

"– uncle – o-oh, fuck, uncle, yes, yes, yes –" She cried out, resting her hands behind her back, letting the material of her bathrobe slide off her shoulders, revealing her breasts full of milk, bouncing each time his hips pounded against her buttocks.

"– God, be quiet – shhh, be good or I won't let you come – is that what you want? –" He breathed out and she bit her bottom lip with her teeth, looking up at him pleadingly, something in her gaze from which he began to slam into her like mad, himself struggling to restrain himself not to moan.

"– that's what I thought – you come to me – ah – begging with those big eyes for my cock – and then you can't even fucking behave –" He growled and sighed, feeling her struggling to stifle a sob of pleasure when another thrust against that same sweet spot made her fall apart in front of him, panting heavily along with him, the next few loud, sticky slaps of their bodies were enough for him to cum with a sigh of relief.

They knew each other's bodies all too well by now and, with amusement, found more and more that they had trouble holding back from coming too early.

It was just too pleasant.

"– I'm pregnant –" She whispered, and he blinked and looked at her, as if he needed a moment to start thinking soberly after such intense fulfilment.

"– what? – but –" He exhaled.

"– I'm sure – I went to the doctor today –"

"– you lied to me –" He said with irritation in his voice.

"– Criston drove me there – I told you I would go shopping with him and we did after the appointment – no lies –" She said with a smile, touching her belly affectionately.

Her husband sighed, placing his hand on hers, the expression on his face calm and gentle again.

"– it's the sixth – what a big family indeed –" He hummed, and she laughed, nodding her head.

"– yes, my love – another child to drive to training –" She said amused, and he kissed her forehead with tenderness, from which a pleasant warmth spread over her heart.

"– don't sit here too long –" She sighed, jumping off his desk as soon as he slid out of her.

"– I won't –"

On her way to their bedroom, she walked into their youngest child's room and smiled, covering her little son more tightly with the duvet. Aemon's leg immediately pushed the bedclothes off him with his mutter of displeasure, so she gave up and left him alone.

She froze, spotting a silhouette in the corner of the room, thinking it was a man, with bright eyes, blonde hair and a beard, but was relieved when, after a moment, she noticed that it was the only shadow cast by the wardrobe standing nearby.

When she walked into their bedroom, she immediately turned on the lamp by their bed and waited patiently for him to return.

She knew she wouldn't fall asleep anyway.

When she was alone in bed, she saw his face and her hands sticky with blood.

When she heard her uncle's footsteps, when his warm body finally lay down beside her and his lips placed a soft, sticky kiss on her neck, she turned off the light, his whisper next to her ear like the calm hum of the wind.

"– now I will let you moan as much as you wish –"

"– Aegon – don't let her swim out into the deep water – Daeron, Visenya keep an eye on her, after all you can see she can't swim well yet –" He shouted to their children the next day, lying in front of her on a towel on the beach, little Aemon, sitting next to them, was building a sandcastle, the hot sun burning their skin.

"– okay, Dad! –" She heard Daeron voice behind her, lying on her stomach in her black one-piece bathing suit with her back cut out, reading a book, her husband's doctoral thesis on an excavation he had run with her in one of the cities the year before.

"– what do you think? – it's the last time for corrections – I've read it hundreds of times and it already makes me want to vomit when I look at it –" He said disapprovingly, turning his gaze towards the sea again.

"– it's the best doctoral thesis I've ever read – really –" She said softly, turning the page, amazed at how effortlessly her husband wrote.

"– look, mummy – it's a fortress, and here's the moat – and there's a dragon on top –" Mumbled Aemon, forcing the Mighty Vhagar figurine that had once belonged to his father onto the top of the tower.

"– beautiful, darling – it looks like the real thing –" She said with warm approval, and Aemon smiled broadly, satisfied, busying himself with creating a bridge over the moat from sticks.

"– Aemma, don't swim so far away – how many times do I have to tell you? –" Her uncle called out, raising himself angrily on his elbow, and she sighed heavily, throwing him a look full of pity.

"– she has swimming sleeves that are full of air that will float her even if she stops moving her arms and legs – she won't drown –" She said, and her husband sighed heavily, looking anxiously towards their children playing in the water.

"– I prefer to be sure –" He muttered.

She looked at him tenderly for a moment, feeling nothing but warmth in her heart.

He was such a good father.

Such a good husband.

She knew that one day they would have to explain to their children why they only had a church wedding and were not married before the state.

But not yet.

"So let's make sure. We should swim with them." She said, extending her hand to him, and he looked at her, apparently recalling their conversation in his car then, many years ago, when he had described his fantasy to her.

He licked his lips with his tongue and grinned in a way she loved.

"Come."

______

Author's note: The child that Rhaenys lost was Viserys: I decided that this story, because it is so dark, could not end differently, and the decisions of the characters had to lead to tragedy sooner or later. Something dies in Rhaenys, but thanks to this she can finally fully join her husband in their Hades, crossing the border of innocence and naivety, maturing in a kind of cruel way. However, the rest of their children, who appeared in the original series, are born. After losing Viserys (in this version they did not know that it would be a boy), they decided that they wanted to have as many children as God would give them, since he took one away from them (in their eyes one too many). Visenya and Aegon will definitely become mafia bosses in the future, just like their father, lol. Their children have the same characters and looks like in the original series, which you can see here.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” 

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 

God, you were down bad. 

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

[bueckers-babygirl]

I Need You (Paige Bueckers x black!fem!reader)

Summary: You and Paige go through a rough patch, you only see one solution

Warnings: Just a lot of cursing

word count: 1346

I was tired. I was tired of the constant arguing, silent treatments, and petty comments. The most tiring thing of them all was trying to keep up the picture of a happy couple when I knew we were the complete opposite at the moment. 

I woke up around eight in the morning, feeling around the bed for Paige’s warmth. When I was met with a cold part of the bed, the memories from the night before came rushing back. The screaming, the insults, and the words that could never be taken back. Which then led to Paige sleeping on the couch. We have had some pretty bad arguments, but this one definitely takes the cake. I rubbed my burning eyes, which were dry from the tears, and made my way out of our room to the kitchen. As soon as I opened the door, I was met with Paige, making coffee in the kitchen. Our eyes met, but we didn't say a word to each other. I hesitantly made my way to the kitchen island and took the coffee that she slid in front of me. We sat in an uncomfortable silence, which was considered normal at this point, waiting for the other to say something. Anything.

 As we sat there I wondered to myself. I wondered how everything went to shit after a beautiful three-year relationship. I wondered how such a loving apartment that felt like home soon turned into a place you dreaded waking up in. I wondered if I had the opportunity to go back in time, what I would have to do to prevent all of this from happening. 

With a deep breath, the first word in five minutes is spoken. “Paige…we need to talk” I say with a shaky breath. Paige’s head shoots up, her eyes filled with concern. “All we’ve been doing for the last month is arguing. It’s literally draining the life out of me” I say as I move my coffee away to make sure I am more focused on the conversation. “I know. I'm sorry but I've just been stressed, babe. You can’t get mad at me for being stressed” Paige scoffs and turns away. “Did I fucking say I was mad at you for being stressed, Paige? No, I didn't! So don’t put-” I take a deep breath, not wanting to start another draining argument between us. Paige noticed that I was more frustrated than usual. “Look, I'm sorry. Can we just lie down and watch a movie? I just wanna forget last night happened” Paige suggests as she takes my hand in her’s. This is the bullshit that makes me so mad. I don’t want to ignore the issue. That's all she ever wants to do.

“No, Paige. We have to talk. We can’t keep ignoring this. If we ignore it all the time it just gets worse and worse” I stand up and walk around the small space of our apartment. “I don’t feel like talking about it. I just wanna sleep and lay with you. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable” Paige laughs, trying to soften the mood. “I understand Paige. However, what happened last night was just…it was a lot” I sigh, rubbing my hand through my tight coils. “ Oh my god. Are you seriously still upset about that? I told you about eighteen times you have nothing to be jealous of” Paige's voice gets louder, as she remembers how ridiculous she felt the conversation was. “You constantly telling me ‘Don’t worry about it’ and ‘You're overreacting’ doesn’t ease my fucking nerves, babe. It makes me feel like I'm delusional and I know I'm not” I say, becoming more and more frustrated with every word that leaves my mouth.  “I never said the you were delusional, babe! I’m telling you that you have nothing to worry about. If you don’t believe me I don’t know what to tell you. What do you want me to do” Paige rubs her hands over her face as she makes her way over to the couch. 

“I don’t know Paige! I honestly don’t know but you don’t understand. The way you say these things makes me feel…like I'm this weird insecure girlfriend who needs you to coddle her all the time” I say walking over to stand in front of her. She slightly, but noticeably rolls her eyes. I scoff and walk into the bedroom, just needing to get away from her. To my misfortune, she follows me. “Baby! I am trying my best to figure out what you want. You're acting fucking weird and I don’t know what you want” Paige exclaims. I stood and looked at her for a while….what did I want? 

Why were we always having these useless arguments that felt like they were going nowhere? Was I trying to prove something? Were we trying to keep something alive that just wasn’t there anymore? What the fuck was going on.

“Hello? Seriously what is going on with you” Paige asks as she annoyingly waves a hand in front of your face. “Paige” I pause, not exactly sure what to say. “I think we need to take a break” Tears finally fall from my eyes. Paige’s entire demeanor changes, shock filling her body. “What the fuck are you talking about” Paige asks with a shaky voice. “I just feel like we should take a break…this relationship needs a break” I walk over to the closet, packing a bag full of enough clothes until I can get the rest of mine. “Why would we need to take a break Y/n? Because we had a few arguments? That makes no sense” She exclaims, following me into the closet. “Paige! We have been constantly fighting for a fucking month now! Im fucking tired” I yell while clapping my hands, hoping to get my point across. Paige’s eyes fill with tears, both of us motionless. It felt like someone had just stabbed me in the heart.

 I would never in a million years have guessed that I would be packing my clothes to take a break from the love of my life. Paige all of a sudden takes my hand in hers, staring into what felt like my soul. “Y/n…please. Don’t leave. I'm sorry” Tears fall down the blonde's face as I drop my duffle bag to the floor for a split second. Every bone in my body was telling you to stay, to forget everything that had happened. They were telling me to just sit on the couch like I usually would and brace for the next argument that would ring throughout the apartment. However, my heart was telling me that you needed time apart so that we could get better. 

I take the girl's face in my hands, looking into her beautiful blue eyes. “It’s not forever Paige. I promise,” I say, trying to keep a strong face on. “But we need some time apart so that we can get better…I need you to understand” I whisper. Paige is hesitant but nods her head. I finally let out a shaky breath as she sniffles and leaves the room. As she closes the door I let out another shaky breath that turns into a sob. 

As I calm myself down I finish packing my bag with enough clothes to keep me through the “break”. Once I finished, I walked out into the living room to see Paige curled up on the couch, eyes red from her tears. With a shaky breath, I walk over to her, giving her a passionate kiss before making my way to the door. With my hand on the handle, I hesitate, turning to Paige to look at her for the last time in a while. “I love you, P,” I say, with a smile and salty tears falling down my face. “I love you too, Beautiful” Paige sniffles and laughs. With those last words being said, I close the door to our apartment, ready to see what life has in store for me until I see her next. 

This was my first REALLY long fic! I hope yall enjoyed and I MIGHT make a part two cuz I hate when some angst don't have a happy ending <3

[nadvs]

I love love love this new au🥹 coming from a severely stressed Uni student could you write how rafe would take care of her when she’s studying too much barely eating or drinking and just really anxious for exams and stressed out.

aaa thank you angel 🥺 yes of course!! i hope you feel better soon!!

based on this fic

“…practice until five,” she hears.

“sorry, what?” she mumbles to rafe, her stare focused ahead.

her boyfriend gazes at her profile as they sit in his bedroom, watching a show on his flatscreen.

“my schedule next week,” he says. “you asked about it.”

“right,” she says. she meets his concerned blue eyes. “sorry. i was out of it again.”

she can feel herself retreating from reality all the time. finals are only a month away and she keeps catching herself zoning out out of lectures and conversations, spiralling into nerve-racking hypotheticals.

“did you eat today?” he asks.

“um… i think so?” she says.

“you’d remember if you did.”

rafe grabs his phone out from beneath the covers to order takeout. she looks at his screen, his wallpaper the photo of herself in his jersey that she’s seen so many times, and realizes it’s minutes away from eight p.m.

“fuck, it’s eight?” she says, scrambling out of bed. “i was supposed to go home to study like an hour ago.”

she grabs her things, staring at him with wide eyes, confused why he isn’t rushing to leave.

“you can drive me, right?” she asks.

“chill for a second,” he sighs. “what if you skipped it tonight? sleep here.”

“i can’t. i can barely sleep in my own bed,” she says. “i can barely sleep at all. if it’s a hassle to drive me, i can order a-”

“no.” rafe stands, relenting. he knows she’ll just argue if he pushes. “let’s go.”

“are you mad?” she asks.

“no,” he says.

“we don’t bullshit-”

“bullshit each other, i know,” he finishes her sentence. “i’m not mad.”

she trails him out of the room. even though he said he’s not mad, he’s acting like it.

rafe’s hands are tight on the steering wheel as he drives to her college campus through dark, busy streets. his girl’s been in her own world lately. every day, it gets worse.

he knows fighting will just stress her out more. he tries to encourage her to take breaks, but it seems to just make her spiral more.

he gets it. his mind gets tangled up, too. pressure can be a bitch. so, he bites his tongue for her sake. she’s the only person he cares enough to reign in his temper for.

“you’re really not mad?” she asks softly.

“i’m worried,” he admits.

she’s silent, staring out the window.

“it’s just finals,” she says. “i’ll be okay.”

rafe’s not entirely convinced. but he gives her the space she needs and drops her off.

about half an hour later, she gets a text from him that there’s takeout waiting for her downstairs. she can’t manage to eat everything because he sent enough food to feed a whole group of people.

then, he texts her close to midnight to see if she went to bed yet.

she replies: can’t fall asleep.

he texts: i’ll be there soon.

when rafe arrives, he calls her to come downstairs. she tries to climb in the passenger seat, but he tells her to go the back. when she opens the door, she sees that he laid out blankets and a pillow across the backseat.

“what is this?” she asks.

“you said you can’t sleep in your bed. or mine,” he says. “what if i drove around? could you sleep then?”

“are you serious?” she says.

“i’ll park in front of my place when you fall asleep. i’ll stay in the car. just get comfortable, alright?”

she settles in the back, leaning across the seat, following his instructions to still buckle herself in.

“thank you,” she says as he starts to drive. her eyelids are already getting heavy, the steady motion of the car genuinely helping. “sorry i’ve been so stressed out.”

“just sleep, baby,” he says.

“okay,” she whispers.

it works. she dozes off within minutes. he drives around for a while to make sure she’s deep asleep.

after he parks in his driveway, he sprawls out in his seat. this is uncomfortable. he’ll be sore tomorrow. and maybe the next day, which is a game day.

but as he listens to her deep breaths, he doesn’t doubt that she’s worth it. she hasn’t been taking care of herself lately. if he has to do it for her, he will. every time.

[fairycrackhead]

𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 | toxic fuck boy Gojo x toxic reader

pairing: toxic fuck boy.ᐟGojo x toxic.ᐟreader

summary: Halloween night is now engraved in your memory which you can only assume it will be for the rest of your lives. When you two should have been trick or treating as normal 14 year olds would do, you instead opt to take each others virginity’s. Now you two are stuck in an endless cycle of toxic bad romance.

warnings: mention of abuse, drunk people, porn, minors watching porn, minors having sexual Intercourse, slight degradation, having unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, hair pulling, mentions of murder, toxic relationship.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this was a random idea i thought up of when i heard the song ‘bad romance’ by lady gaga on the bus the other day! anyways this is my first fic i hope you sluts enjoy :)

⎜ 11:32 pm My Bitch (y/n) : your seriously a dick yk that?

⎜ 11:37 pm My bitch (y/n): i fuckin despise u

⎜ 11:45 pm Mr. Cock (Gojo): and your telling me again, y?

⎜ 11:47 pm My bitch (y/n): bc your w/ another girl like it’s clockwork, do you not see the problem here, Gojo? i asked you to stop the bullshit.

⎜ 11:49 pm Mr. Cock (Gojo): ur not my gf. im in for pussy that’s it. yk im not a relationship guy

⎜ 11:52 pm Mr. Cock (Gojo): and yet you continue to come back to me. pathetic honestly

⎜ 11:56 pm My bitch (y/n): fuck you

⎜ 12:00 am Mr. Cock (Gojo): already needy? 😂

You should’ve known what kind of man Satoru Gojo was when you lost your virginity to him on Halloween night, 2011. It’s not like it was forced upon you, besides the occasional talk in the middle school hallway that ‘girls who were virgins were prudes’ or ‘how pathetic is it that there’s still virgins in the 8th grade’. Looking back at it now, it sounds really stupid…like really fucking stupid. All those supposed ‘women’ they would call themselves, ‘women’ who just now learned how to correctly put a tampon into the pussy that they just mercilessly shaved, (more like butchered), were all still scrawny, pathetic little girls inside. Of course hearing all the chatter about everyone’s virginity losses, the stories that were so horrific it made you wanna vomit and change schools, made you insecure on the inside. It’s not like you hadn’t thought of sex before, it just wasn’t your current desire to have some undeveloped boy’s dick in one of those…holes down there. Which also brought up another concern for you: how to even do the act. You assumed that the other person would lead (which was a bad guess because Gojo was a fumbling inexperienced idiot as well).

And it was almost nothing like the old pornos your dad had playing on repeat on the old box tv. He’d spend all his off days (which were more than days he actually got his ass up and went to work), drinking, belching, an occasional scratch of his ass, and watching naked women dance around on the grainy tv. You guys never got the money to buy a new one, maybe if he went to his job down the street at the local corner store he could afford more than the crappy ten dollar pizza down the block.

But who knows, you’ve seen those disgusting scenes, at an age way too young to even comprehend, so did you really have any knowledge? You were a curious kid, not a dumb one, you could easily depict whether or not the porn on the screen was realistic or not. Most the time it was the latter. The overdramatized moans and screams made you wince, on more than a few occasions, but it’s not like the paper thin walls separating the living room and yours did much to help. From having no mother figure to really correct your behavior, and a father that couldn’t give a fuck less, it started your one of many issues. Discovering sex at a really young age, not the act itself but any form of porn an eight year old could get their sticky, grubby hands on. The noises from the tv haunted your mind in a chilling way, making you want to stay as far away from it as possible, yet were still so fucking intrigued.

Until it was the start of the 9th grade, and surprisingly the comments the ‘women’ made in the locker rooms were still present in your mind, not surrounding your every thought, but still there deep down in the back of your mind. ‘Girls who are virgins are lame prudes’. If only you knew that those girls were bluffing about the whole virginity loss thing, but it seemed convincing enough at the time. The way they described how their ‘mans’ bent them over countless times over their granite countertops, or on the elementary school playground. It sounds absurd now, but they had big boobs, and horny teenage boys liked big boobs, so it must of been true, right?

And now here you are, at an headache inducing party, or rave, whatever you wanna call it, watching Gojo talk to yet another girl, more like plain on flirting. She seemed like one of those girls that wouldn’t know if a forty pound dumbbell hit her right in the forehead, so just Gojo’s usual fuck of the night. All he did was stare at her boobs which were spilling out the corset of her trashy costume, and make very poor conversation. What a man whore. You could see Gojo’s shit eating smirk on his lips even from far away and in the almost completely pitch black room, only flashing lights that could cause seizures giving you any sort of seeing ability.

His eyes move from her lips to her tits. Lips—tits—lips—tits. You just wanted to knock the red solo cup out of his overly large fingers and put them somewhere useful. (Such as your aching cunt just dripping in anticipation.) You wanted to go to the nearest open bedroom, drag him by is weirdly hot silver chain, and let him have at you. But you hold back your desires, trying not to let into another spiral of emotions with this man, the same cycle that’s been happening forever now.

You practically crush your phone with your bare hand after receiving that last text, but you refrain and shove it back into your bra since your day to day purse didn’t match your outfit. You take a long deep breath, one you often had to take due to Gojo’s infuriating cocky persona. Walking over to the kitchen, a mini bar was set up in this random kids house, which wasn’t even his you assumed by the family pictures propped up on basically every flat surface.

You hated the parties your friends dragged you to, you felt too old to be in the scene of just barely legal adults blacking out and throwing up so much to the point of you having to look around before walking to avoid stepping in someone’s chunky puke. But to your surprise you actually enjoyed the noise, not making it, but watching others create it. It gave you some sort of distraction from your thoughts which seemed to consume and take over your life since the 9th grade. You wouldn’t call it trauma necessarily, it’s not like you knew you had a fucked up home life until you were fresh out of high school. People on the outside saw your drunken father, crappy rundown home, and the rotational three outfits you wore each week to school and saw it has straight abuse. On some level, the lack of care you were given could be seen as abuse by default, but you were a happy kid. Sure, you were exposed to porn by the time you were eight, but it was just normal to you…in some kinda depressing fashion.

Gojo came from a completely different background, whenever you stepped into his gated community it felt like you were in some other world, an insanely futuristic environment. He was rich, but he wasn’t cocky like those spoiled brats you see on those UK television shows like Super Nanny. At least not when you two had met. It wasn’t a close friendship necessarily, but you two enjoyed each other’s company’s to the point of having sex with each other, so maybe you were closer than you originally thought.

⎜12:08 am Mr. Cock (Gojo): don’t forget you made me like this. don’t get pissy abt what u created.

You dig your phone back out of your lace bra and scoff when you see the message, your hand threatening to go find this piece of shit and chuck your phone at his big head instead. You don’t answer, stuffing your phone back where it came from. You gently push other drunks out your way, reaching for a beer from the ice chest. Using your mouth (one Gojo would call very useful and efficacious), popping it open with your canines.

One thing you loathed about Gojo (not to mention the other 52 things written in your notes) was he thought you were the reason for his ‘fuck boy’ qualities. Yes, you both took each other’s virginity’s, it’s not like he didn’t want it, in fact he wanted it more than you, judging the throbbing of his cock when he first showed it to you. It always comes flooding into your mind every night, more so each Halloween. You came to resent the holiday since it only reminded you of that night 13 years ago. Despite it being over a decade ago, you still recall the nervousness and excitement that you felt when he finally came inside you. It makes you laugh when you remember how totally freaked you were, how you thought you’d get pregnant with his baby.

At that moment you repeated over and over again how ‘this was a terrible idea’ and ‘i hate that you let us do this’. It was an all around shit show for a good twenty minutes before Gojo finally snapped and yelled at you to get over it. Besides it not being the most calm way to handle your panic, it worked. Who could blame him, he was scared shitless too. You both ended the night by trick or treating, it was a kinda dud of a night considering typical trick or treating hours ended two hours ago during your private fun. Luckily Gojo spotted a house on your near midnight walk, a load of halloween candy left in a bowl on some old lady’s porch.

“We shouldn’t-“ but of course, he didn’t let you finish, pressing a shy brief kiss on your lips instead. He had a subtle blush on his pale cheeks, a blush you would only see now during your angry make up sex sessions. Grabbing your hand, and practically dragging you to the house. “Just grab the fuckin’ candy, ya scaredy cat.” He laughs, looking around the dark streets before snagging the candy bowl with a big orange pumpkin face plastered on the front, running off.

“Gojo! YOU FUCKIN’ THEIF!” you giggle, suddenly the porch lights flicker on like some horror movie, and your heart drops into your ass. The door swung open to have your neighbor, Mrs. Miller standing there seething, her mini chihuahua perched in her arms like it was her newborn child. Gojo stopped in his tracks, still heavily breathing like some out of shape forty year old.

“Why you little!” Mrs. Miller reached out to grab you, only for you to duck her failed attempt of dragging you back. Gojo jumped up and down with an amused smile on his face, calling out for you to run faster, which you try to comply as best as possible. You run over to Gojo as fast as your legs would carry you, locking arms and running to who knows where, you can’t quite remember each detail. After that point the rest of the night was a blur to you, still thirteen years later. The sound of Mrs. Miller’s feisty chihuahua, later identified as ‘FeFee’ chasing after you being the most exciting part of the whole ordeal. Gojo and you laughing your way home, still heaving from running so fast from the tiny animal, a ‘disgrace’ to the dog community as he called it.

You both promised that after the scare of possibly having to raise a baby at the ripe age of 14, (and almost having bloody ankles due to FeFee) that fucking each other would be a one time thing.

But it wasn’t.

“F-fuck..! mhmph—God!” He continuously rammed into you from the back, his hands gripping your waist so hard it felt like you had broken bones. Your halloween costume was now thrown somewhere in the corner of this bedroom, who’s bedroom? You had no idea, but at the moment you couldn’t give two shits.

“Yeah? You like that baby?” Gojo thrusted harder, making a broken cry fall from your lips like water. “Knew you c-couldnt…resist my cock any longer, bitch.” Possessed grunts come from him at each thrust and movement he makes. Vibrations from the music of the party travel through the walls, Gojo going deeper and faster to the sound of the horrible rave music downstairs.

If it wasn’t a party, people might of thought a murder was going on by the sounds of your wails of pleasure, but it was normal to fuck at a party, no matter the location.

Tears seep into the pillow that the side of your face was squished down onto, mascara running down your face as you sob from a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Gojo!” you sob, the pleasure becoming too much to bare, yet you couldn’t get the established safe word (which you two only made in 10th grade because you overstimulated him by riding his cock to the point of him passing out) to come out. His dick was that fucking good.

The sound of his heavy, cum filled balls coming in contact with your plush ass make you clench around his length, causing an animalistic moan from Gojo. A room echoing SMACK comes in contact with your ass, making you thrust your back into him, fucking him right back. The burning of the stinging sensation leaves you wanting more, the feeling of his hand still lingering on your left cheek.

Gojo begins going at an alarmingly hasty pace, his whole body aching for more of you, all of you, every single cell. The sound of your sloppy pussy squelching each time he pulls in and out, makes the heat in the pit of his stomach rise. By now you can’t see clearly, eyes welled up with tears and the remains of gooey eyelash glue. One of his hands leave your sore hip, grasping into your messy locks, giving it a good tug “MHMP! ….F-f—fuck!” This only causes him to yank your whole head back, you look up through your lashes, which are stuck together with a mixture of glue and sweat.

“Y-yeah,” he huffs, gripping your roots to a point of it being just downright painful. “keep looking at me….yeah mhmph—j-just like that.” The intense eye contact makes his thrusts even quicker and more efficient, his fat, squishy balls hitting your puffy clit over and over. “So fuckin’ tight for me.” Another hard spank wipes itself across both of your cheeks, the jiggle of them causing yet another guttural moan from Gojo’s throat.

Your soppy wet cunt drips all down his cock, his balls picking up the reminisce of your warm, flowing juices. Gojo’s fingers unravel themselves from your now frizzy hair, the thought of having to wash it later tonight makes you internally groan. His fingers make a slow, tantalizing path up and down your back, the contrast evident between his soft, gentle touch and his monstrous rock hard cock going in and out of your folds. Your face plants back down in the tear-drenched pillow case, the bed creaking from the force of your two bodies going at it.

His slow paced, soft finger touches come to an abrupt end when it meets your soft breasts. An aching cry sounding from your lips as his pointer and thumb mesh together around your now hard nipple. “Mhm…look at you…all whiny for m-me.“ He thrusts harder, your cervix feeling almost numb and incredibly bruised. At this point, your slobbering at the mouth like a dog with rabies, eyes rolling to the back of your brain each time his cock hits every delicious spot.

Gojo’s movements start to get sloppy, as well does the kisses he starts to place on your neck, back, and shoulders. The quick erratic pace starts to slow, forearms trembling from the strength he’s used to hold them on the side of your head all night. His thrusts are slow, long, almost like he’s grinding in slow motion, yet it’s not any less effective. Your thighs begin to shake with overwhelming pleasure, the pressure your body is holding in making you wanna scream it all out. “Mhmph g-gonna cum!” You practically scream a moan out, making Gojo’s lips turn upwards in a smug grin. His lips make their way from the left side of your neck to the middle, and then to the right, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. Dark red and purple bruised hickeys are now spread all down your body, surely to be left there for weeks to come.

“Nuh uh…not yet,” Gojo grunts as he feels your warm cunt clench around his throbbing cock for the millionth time that night. “This is my pussy…I g-get to tell you when to cum.” You almost wanna roll your eyes at his statement but your too drunk off his cock to care. You attempt to protest, the knot in your stomach becoming too hot to handle, but you get shut up right away when his fingers twist around your sensitive nipple once more, letting out a deep moan from your soul. Your hands grip the silk sheets in desperation, needing to grab something in order to keep you stable. “Mhm, tell me baby…who’s pussy is this?”

You cry into the pillow, pain, pleasure, and the feeling of being absolutely turned on in your whines. After not answering right away, Gojo grabs you by the hair again, yanking your head back, causing your neck to stretch to lengths you didn’t even know you had the flexibility to do so. “I asked, who does…this pussy belong to?” He says through gritted teeth. You feel every 8 inches of his cock in your stretched out pussy, every inch filling you up to as much as you could take. Each vein, the pounding pulse that acts as a second heartbeat, every thick, gurthy inch. When you don’t respond for the second time, too delirious to even understand what’s going on, he throws your head roughly back into the pillow, picking up his pace again.

Everything able to clench on your body does, gripping the pillow with such force that your knuckles turn white. Drops of sweat patter onto your back from Gojo’s forehead, the warm salty liquid making you squirm. Another sudden spank lands on your fat ass cheeks, and you couldn’t help but let loose. “FUCK—GOJO!” Strings of loud breaking moans and screams escape your mouth, sounding like a real murder now.

Gojo throws his head back once he feels your warm, sticky cum surround his palpitating cock. He pumps his dick back into you, pushing your cum back into your dripping wet cunt as far as his cock would let it. He himself finally let’s go, the thin string in his body snaps as his warm liquids mix with yours, in all too familiar feeling. His deep moans rush right to your core, the thrusts becoming inconsistent and sloppy once more. You hear the big analog clock from the entry way downstairs, giving you a slight reminder where the hell you were. Some random persons house, where his parents would probably be any second, and maybe you were even fucking in their bed. You bite your lip, slightly turned on by the fact of possibly getting caught, like you were a teenager back home, sucking Gojo’s cock before his father returned from work.

You whisper moan Gojo’s name over and over like a mantra, in other words, thanking him for finally giving you what your aching pussy had needed. You can tell he’s grateful too, being more gentle as if he had not just fucked your lights out. Caressing your back, like he did the first time this toxic relationship began back in 9th grade. Any memory loss from him talking to that girl just an hour ago was completely thrown out the window, even though you knew deep down you were just like her. One of his play things, the only difference was you weren’t oblivious to his motives. In fact you played into them, driving the toxicity just as much as he did. It made it fun that way. No matter how many guys you fucked, the number of cocks you sucked, the lips you kissed, none of them compared to his, and it made you feel sick in the most pleasurable way possible.

Gojo eventually pulls out, after speaking strange sweet nothings into your ear, which you haven’t heard since he was fifteen. You hated how it made your heart feel so warm, unlike the feeling of the cool air hitting your cunt. The cold air makes you wince, missing his cock already despite still feeling it’s outline in your folds. Fingers leave your hard, tender nipples, bringing them down to your dripping cunt, wiping the access off your thighs.

You start to come back to reality from the moment, the room still filled with humid sticky air caused by the amount of hot breaths and touches made throughout. The only sounds now being your heavy breathing, reminding you of the night you two ran away from FeFee, and slurping from Gojo, licking away at his fingers coated with your sweet salty release. Your folds still leaking with a mixture of your cum, trickling down your painfully sore thighs.

Gojo looks at the syrupy goodness leaking onto the silk sheets, a liquid you would only expect to see on waffles at the local cafe down the street. He finally collapses on top of you, softly massaging your right side, face pressed into the crook of your sweating neck. Placing gentle kisses on your sticky skin, bodies molded into one by your muggy bodies. You savor the moment, knowing deep down in your heart that things would go back to how they were in just a couple hours, fighting, screwing other girls and guys, and all together, a toxic romance.

You sit on the curb, voices from the party still able to be heard as you wait for your cab. You sit there like you’ve been through hell and back, you were if it meant having the best sex you’ve had in a good long while. Sitting on one cheek, the other still too sore to have pressure applied to it, you hear a ding from your phone. You wait a minute, trying to calm your pounding headache from both the alcohol and the amazing sex you just endured. The cool fall air blowing past you as you open the text you received, a small smirk tugged up your chapped lips.

⎜1:34 am Mr. Cock (Gojo): had fun. see u next halloween baby 🫴🏻🍑

[latenightdaydreams]

Hiii!! I really love your stories, and I was wondering if you could do a Knight! König x Princess! Reader, where the reader runs away and her trusted knight, punishes her for it.

Hi! Of course!

Knight!König x Princess (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 2

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, oral, p in v

2.1k word count

👸

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The fact that you had made it so far away led you to believe that König was none the wiser. Assuming your way ahead of his trail, you turn into the local Inn, looking for a room. Upon entry, the short stocky man with a long black beard standing behind the counter looks you up and down. The purple color and high-quality fabric were a dead giveaway that you’re a woman of wealth.

“Hello, sir.” You look the man over. “I’m looking to buy a room for the night.” This is all new to you. It’s exciting.

The Innkeeper lingers for a second, looking you up and down. He’s debating on whether or not he should up charge you. “300 coin.”

The price surprises you, but again, you’ve never done this before. You nod, pulling out your coin purse, fishing for the 300 coin the man requested for the night. A booming noise causes you to jump and look behind you. There stood your knight, König. Your stomach sank lower as you registered that you’ve been found.

“Hey! Get out of here!” The Innkeeper shouts at König. “No imperial swine at my Inn!”

You turn and look at the man with a shocked expression on your face when you realize he’s yelling at König.

An annoyed growl leaves König’s throat as he steps forward, ducking underneath the door to fit inside. He glares at the Inn Keeper, his icy blue eyes barely visible underneath his helmet. Ignoring the man, he reaches out and grabs your arm.

“No more running, Prinzessin. You’re coming home.”

“No!” you shout, pulling your arm back, trying to break free of his powerful grip.

“Get out of here! The both of you!”

“Shut the fuck up!” König turns, roaring at the smaller man.

The Innkeeper freezes in shock when the giant Knight snaps. He watches as König grabs your waist with his other hand and hoists you up over his shoulders. As he walks out of the doors, you fight him, kicking and screaming, demanding that he set you free.

König ignores your whining as he walks you outside to his horse. Your weak body is no match for him. He sits you on his horse, holding your hips firmly. “Don’t make me have to tie you up.” A cheeky grin pulls at his lips underneath his helmet.

You roll your eyes at him, crossing your arms remaining defiant. “I don’t even know how you caught up to me so quickly.”

“Caught up? Prinzessin, I knew you were gone the moment you left.”

Looking over your shoulder, you give him a surprised look. “You knew the whole time? Why did you let me go so far?”

“I wanted to see how far you would make it. Then I heard the man back there try to con you out of more coin; figured it let it go far enough.”

König sits behind you straddling the horse, his arms reach around your waist to grab the reins to begin his journey back to the castle. He’s been your guard since the day you became eight-teen. You’ve been a pain in his ass ever since. As you’ve grown into a woman, you’ve only become harder to keep control of.

“You should have just let me leave. It’s not like I’m important. I have four other sisters.”

“Each one of you is important.” König says in a huff.

“Yeah, to be a pawn in some political bullshit.”

“Watch your mouth Prinzessin, you’re already on thin ice.”

“On thin ice.” You mock. “What are you going to do? Punish me?” You scoff, crossing your arms.

“You could have cost me my life. I should punish you.”

“Stop talking!” You snap.

Deep down inside you do feel guilty for that idea. König has always been there for you, never really judging you the way others have in the past. While true, there is a deep want to live your life for yourself; König is just an obstacle in your way.

König ignores your attitude and just continues on focusing on getting you home safely. Your body relaxes back to König’s as the journey seems to drag on. There is a pit in your stomach, a deep dread of returning back to the castle. You know you’ll just wait there until you’re given away to a neighboring country.

Seeing the landscape of home approaching, you turn and look at König. “It would have been better if you let me run away.”

“The King would have simply ordered my head on a stake and send more men after you. Plus, you look and act like a little rich girl. You wouldn’t last two days out there.”

You say nothing back, knowing that he’s right. There are no limits you father wouldn’t go to just to get you back. Plus, who knows what type of men you could have possibly encountered. The sound of the gates drawing to allow the horse to enter, snaps you out of your own thoughts. The guards up front bow their heads in respect to you as you pass by.

König rides to the stables, slowing his horse to a stop before getting off. He turns to you with one hand out to help you. You place your hand in his, accepting his help begrudgingly. The second your feet touch the ground his arm snakes around your waist.

“König…” The annoyance in your voice is obvious.

“Where are you going?” He asks, pressing you closely to his body.

“To my room.”

“Not before you take your punishment.”

König reaches up, pulling his helmet off, placing it on the back of his horse. He presses his nose into the crook of your neck, smelling how sweaty you got after a full day on the run. He pulls off his gauntlets, tossing them down. You gasp as his hands reach up to cup your breasts, squeezing tightly.

“König! You know I'm to remain pure.”

“Prinzessin, I doubt the King assumes you’re pure anymore.” König chuckles.

You smirk remembering the little rendezvous with a stable boy when you were six-teen. König turns your body around to face him, your eyes focusing on his messy blonde hair and scarred face. All these years and you’ve never seen König past his eyes. Both of his massive hands up your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. A small moan leaves your lips as you feel the passion radiating for you. Still, you push away. You turn your head trying to reject him, but he holds you firmly in place.

“No, Prinzessin. Don’t act like you don’t want this.”

König’s lips trail down your neck, biting lightly as he goes. You feel your pussy getting wet, tingles running down your body with every bite. He drops one of his hands down to your ass, squeezing through the thick layers of fabric that cover you.

“You’re so beautiful, but you look better with my cum covering your face.” König growls.

His hand wraps around the back of your neck and turns you around, bending you over a stack of hay. He begins to bunch up your layers until he sees the skin of your bare ass. With one hand he reaches back, spanking you with great force. A loud groan leaves your lips.

“König!”

“Was? I said you’d be punished.” He spanks you once more.

Already you can feel a handprint beginning to form on your ass for his heavy hits. You feel his fingers push between your legs, swiping between your slit to feel how wet you are. A deep hum falls from his lips as he rubs back and forth between your folds, just grazing over your clit.

“Look at you…nice and ready.” He pulls back his arm, spanking you once more. Stepping back, he begins to take off his tasset to set his cock free.

You stand to turn to him, but he stops you, pressing you back into the hay. “Don’t move until I’m done with you.”

König’s cock springs free from its prison, he strokes it a few times before walking back behind you. He presses up against your entrance, the tip of his cock slipping in. A small whimper leaves your lips, you can’t believe he’s actually going through with this.

“König, you can’t do this. What if I get pregnant? What if we are found?” Panic begins to set in. Not that you’re opposed to being intimate with König, but what will happen if you get caught? Father will kill you both.

“Your father will have us both used as an example, so it’s best you stay quiet, ja?”

König grabs your hips to steady you before shoving more of his cock in. Inch by inch you get stretched by König’s giant cock. It’s been years since you’ve had sex, and he’s definitely making you feel like a virgin again.

“Oh—fuck!” You moan loudly.

“Shhh, Prinzessin.” He spanks your ass over the already sore skin.

Your eyes flutter back as he completely buries his cock into you. You reach out, grabbing handfuls of the stiff hay as you try your hardest to stay quiet. His thrust quickly become hard, leaving you no time to adjust to his size. He can feel your walls flutter around him.

“Mein Gott, you’re tight.” König says as his face scrunches in pleasure.

“K- König…” You moan out pathetically, each thrust knocking the air from your lungs. Your creamy cunt swallowed him whole, leaving a thick white ring around the base of his cock.

“Das ist es.” His voice raspy from the euphoria his body is experiencing. For the last ten years he’s been so busy with you that he hasn’t been allowed time to date. The women here in the castle fear him for his size or are simply too old for his liking. 

You, you’re perfect. A trouble maker and a woman closer to his age. He knows you might never be married off at this age, so you’re free for him to claim. Pleasured huffs leave his lips as he picks up his pace, thrusting into you with no regard for how his cock might be too much for your small size. The sound of his skin hitting against you's echoing within the stalls.

A rush of ecstasy takes over your body. You whimper softly as your legs tense. Your cunt begins to clench around König’s length. He laughs and pulls out. With one hand he grabs a fistful of your hair and the other spanks you in rapid succession, until you begin to squirm to try and get away.

“You’re not allowed to cum, Prinzessin.” He yanks you back by your hair. “Kneel.” He’s demanding, not asking.

You look up at him and drop to your knees in front of him. He walks closer to you, the smell of your cunt and his sweaty must consuming your nostrils as his cock is presented to you. Your eyes fall to it, his foreskin hugging his pink head, his length covered in cream streaks of your arousal.

With your hair in his fist, he pushes your face towards his cock. You turn your head, getting your own slick smeared across your face. Your hands go to his armored thighs and push away.

“I’m not putting that in my mouth.”

“Ja, you are. Open up before I force you to.”

Your eyes gaze up into his sky-blue eyes, his pupils wide from lust. Slowly, you open your mouth for König. He wastes no time showing his cock in. You quickly gag as he tries to shove himself down your throat. Tears build up in your eyes and you cough, spitting up thick globs of spit that escape the sides of your lips.

König watches you struggle, panting and he thrust forward into your mouth. His heavy balls slap against your chin, feeling your saliva drip onto them. The loud sounds of your gargles adding to his experience.

“You’re doing such a good job taking my cock. Look at you, so beautiful with tears on your face.” His voice is shaky with pleasure. He won’t be able to last much longer.

König steps forwards, pinning your head between him and the hay. He moves his hands and just begins to thrust into your mouth as if he were fucking your pussy. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to not throw up, when he pulls out. You look up with wide eyes as a rope of cum lands on your face. Your body jerks from surprise as more cum falls on your face.

“Suck the tip.” He says pushing his cock back to your mouth, a glob of his cum dangling from the head. As he shoves himself back in, the taste of his salty cum consumes your senses. You gag from the taste, but you still suck it for him. Your eyes gazing up at him as you do.

“I knew you’d look beautiful on your knees.” König says with a cheeky grin on his lips.

Part 2

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Turn Off Your Phone (Dom!Pro!Hitoshi x sub!Plus-Sized!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinso x Black!Fem!Plus-Sized!Reader (Married Couple/Dom x sub Dynamic)

Synopsis: In which Hitoshi gets tired of not being the center of your attention and forces you to put your damn phone down.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dom!Hitoshi/sub!Reader; Husband!Hitoshi/wife!Reader; Pro!Reader; Aged Up!Hitoshi (he’s in his late 20s-early 30s); Dom/sub Dynamics; BDSM; Consensual Hypnosis; Dubcon; Bondage; Oral (Giving & Receiving); 69ing; Facefuck; Riding; Doggystyle; Reader Cums 3x; Dumbification; Cum Drunk!Reader; Cunnilingus; Spanking; Hair-Pulling; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you! 

Writer’s Note: This is a request by @dance-to-mythoughts-blog that was sent soooo long ago & I just managed to get to. I’m so sorry for the long wait! School & work literally became my entire summer, so I barely had much time to write. I hope you enjoy this regardless! -Jazz

*********

“Turn your phone off.”

You turn over to look at your husband, dazed and confused from scrolling through Pinterest. He is lying down next to you, in a tank top and boxers that do nothing to hide the muscles straining against the fabric. And he doesn’t look happy.

Sensing his irked tone, you slowly turn over in your cami that sticks to your soft, pudgy form and teeny-tiny shots dedicated to Hitoshi, his pro hero name printed across the back in bedazzled letters. “Excuse me?” you scoff.

You want to think you’re just hard at hearing or that your brain is muddled from the past few days at work. You work alongside Hitoshi as a pro hero, kicking ass, taking names, and sitting through boring meetings fantasizing about your hubby bending you over a table.

You love working with him, mostly because of how respectful he is towards you. You are more than just his wife when you work together. You’re equals. Hero to hero. He respects your intelligence and skills, allows you to use your voice…which is why you can’t understand why he’s talking to you like you’re a goddamn child now.

He glares at you, his handsome face written with irritation and his scarred lips pressed into a thin line. ”I said. Turn your fuckin’ phone off. You’ve been on that thing all day instead of on me.”

You sit up and place your phone in your lap for the first time in hours since he got home from your morning shift at the agency, much to Hitoshi’s joy. His shift is overnight patrolling which starts in an hour and he’s still here arguing with you.

“And that’s my fault?” You sharply ask. “We have a very demanding job, Shinso. This whole day, our team has been blowin’ us up about meetings, reports, villain sightings, and other bullshit.”

Hitoshi sits up too, on the same time as you are apparently.

“Yeah,” he replies, “but you’re not at work anymore. You’re here with me scrollin’ through Pinterest.”

He nods down at your screen showing one of your Pinterest mood boards that you’ve recently become obsessed with making. ”I have about eight hours till I have to get up and be back at work,” you argue, referring to your 5AM shift tomorrow at the agency. “Morning patrols. And you know my social media time relaxes me!”

And you’re not lying. An hour of scrolling through social media, watching YouTube, and online window shopping does relax you after a long work day. But Hitoshi begs to differ. When your phone suddenly dings with a notification, you go to check it, but your husband stops you by placing a hand on your thigh.

“I can’t relax you more?” He asks. He looks up at you with those damn violet eyes that always seem to melt you other than that handsome face, cropped lavender hair, and those muscles.

And his touch…it’s like you immediately lose all bodily functions when he touches your skin. And he knows that because his fingers, ringed and tatted at the knuckle, slink farther up your thigh to squeeze the soft flesh there. You ignore the way his calloused palms feel on your heated skin and scoot away from him.

“I’m not arguing with you tonight,” you sigh, swatting his hand away when he attempts to smack your ass. “Besides, don’t you have to get dressed soon and head into work which requires you to be on your phone just like me?”

You didn’t mean for it to come out as argumentative as it did, but it’s too late. As soon as Hitoshi hears the edge in your voice, his eyes darken and his brows narrow. Aw, shit.

“Yeah, and I’d rather spend my last hour of freedom with you.”

Your phone dings again, but the lavender-haired pro shoots across the bed and snatches it from you before you can check in. ”Gimme this,” he growls.

“Hey!” You snap. You go to grab it back, but Hitoshi is so tall, even when you’re both sitting, that all he has to do is hold it away from you and you can’t reach it. “Shinso, stop! Gimme back my phone!”

You try to stand up on the bed to reach over him, but he puts your phone on the bedside table before grabbing your ankles. You shriek, feeling the soft cushion of the mattress leave your feet as you find yourself falling backward in the air. Before you can hit the bed, Hitoshi quickly flips you both so he is underneath you.

He hits the mattress first while you’re wrapped up in his arms, your plush, soft body pressed against his harder, toner one. Your hands press against his hard chest, secretly indulging in the hard planes of his abs and shoulders.

Your husband stares up at you through long lashes, molten lust in his gaze. “Not until I get some attention…or do I have to use more persuasion?” His hands move down to grab on your ass while his lips toy with your neck.

You softly moan as soon as his lips touch your skin, his kisses tinged with the slight sharpness of his teeth as he nibbles on your collarbone. As he does this, your phone dings again.

“Shinso, c’mon,” you whine. “It’s a text. I have to answer it.”

You try to push off of him, but he stops you by suddenly rolling on top of you, trapping you beneath his big body. His knee wedges between your warm, plushy thighs, pressing right against your crotch…which is the last place you want anything of his right now.

“Mina can fuckin’ wait. You can tell her later that you were busy gettin’ put in the mattress by your one and only.” He gives you a smirk before pressing his lips to yours in a wanton, rough kiss that leaves you breathless.

You absolutely love his kisses. You love it when he teasingly nibbles along your bottom lip, pulling on it a bit before letting it pop back into place. You love the way his tongue slips out to swirl against yours, sharing spit and drawing the most desperate sounds out of you. You love the way he grinds his hips into yours as if he can’t wait to be inside of you.

As he does all of this to completely turn you to mush, just the way he likes, your phone continues to ring. Hitoshi pulls away, drawing a line of saliva with him that connects to your bottom lips. He then pulls your top up to reveal your soft, juicy breasts and hardened nipples.

You gasp as he leans down to begin caressing and showing your titties some love, sucking and tugging on the nipples with his teeth. “‘Toshi,” you moan. “Baby, no, we don’t have time.” Your hands raise to push him away, but they just tangle in his short, lavender locks.

His violet eyes flick up to meet yours as he pops one of your nipples out of his mouth. “We’ve got more than enough time. Just shut up and let your man take care of you.” He continues his pleasurable assault on your tits just as your phone begins ringing, filling the bedroom with the sound of ‘The Boy is Mine’ by Brandy and Monica.

“I-It’s Mina,” you breathlessly say. You reach one of your pudgy arms out to reach your phone. “I need to—“

“No.” Hitoshi’s voice is firm and not with the bullshit. It shocks you into silence and causes warmth to zip through your belly as it usually does. He looks up at you from your chest, his eyes nailing you to the spot. “What do I have to do to take that damn phone off of your mind? You got any ideas, babydoll?”

He sits up, straddling you and giving you a very nice view of his body and hard cock pressing against his briefs. You instantly feel yourself throb and get wet not just at the sight of the tent in his underwear, but all for the idea he’s got in store for you.

You can tell just what he wants by the smirk playing on his lips and the way his eyes have darkened. He knows you want it too. You need to feel like you’re under his complete and utter control, walking through the fog that he holds your hand in.

Your arm slumps against the bed, defeated. “Fine,” you sigh. “But only for the hour.” Hitoshi gives you a big, sexy smile that turns you on immediately like a light. Immediately, he goes to the bedside and fetches his scarves that he wears with his hero outfit.

They don’t just work nicely for combat when fighting villains. They also make for great restraints. Your heart pounds vigorously and does mini somersaults as you watch Hitoshi mount you and begin tying your wrists to the headboard. His hands move expertly, making the finishing knot tight enough to keep your hands tied but not tight enough to hurt you.

Once he finishes, he sits back and admires his handiwork…and you. “That’s my girl. Just hold still and look at me…thaaat’s it.”

His violet eyes begin to glow, piercing deep into yours as if he is trying to unravel the mysteries of your soul. You allow him to, letting yourself relax under his hypnotizing gaze. It doesn’t take long for your body to loosen and your head to fog as you fall deep under his spell aka his quirk.

Hitoshi only wipes your brain enough to take away the anxiety surrounding not answering or being near your phone and replaces it with him. Only him. When he finishes, you feel as if you’ve just smoked a blunt, your body and mind relaxed.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his eyes searching your face.

You relax against your binds, your muscles like putty. “Good, Daddy,” you reply, your voice breathless and soft. “Really, really good.” A slow, stupid smile stretches across your lips, feeling giddy and at ease.

Hitoshi smiles, immediately stripping off his shirt to reveal his beautiful body and tattoos to you. ”You’re about to feel even better.” And that’s a fucking promise.

Minutes later, you’re naked and your legs are wrapped around Hitoshi’s head as he slurps and sucks on your pussy, his tongue fucking your hole so skillfully that you can’t keep your voice down. “Oh, my God ‘Toshi, yes!” you cry out. “T-That’s so good, ohhh, fuuuck yes!”

You have no consciousness or self control. You can think about nothing but your husband and his mouth making you feel oh-so incredible. He peers at you from between your thighs, his tongue slashing against your clit. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums. “You’re makin’ such pretty sounds for me, babydoll. Keep it up. That’s exactly what I wanna hear.”

His pillowy-soft lips begin to gently suck on your clit over the hood of your pussy lips, sending shivers and sparks of pleasure throughout your body. You tug at your binds, your body unable to keep still from the pleasure. It twists like you’re possessed and your back arches off of the bed as if a demon is being expelled from you.

Only Hitoshi can be the one to release you. Only he can make you so insane like this, damn near seeing heaven’s gates with his lips, tongue, and fingers as he replaces his tongue to flick and rub your clit.

Sloppy sounds begin to drift through the air as his mouth moves faster in an effort to make you explode. It doesn’t take long for that feeling of your peak to near, causing your body to tense. “Oh, shit, I’m cumming!” You gasp. “Fuck, Hitoshi, yes! Please, Daddy, let me cum!”

You know the drill and that’s why you beg. Hitoshi knows that you won’t cum because of his quirk. He has to order you to do so. It’s a little game that you play together and he always wins. So when he finally feels like you’ve had enough, he looks up at you, his lips glistening with your juices.

“Cum,” he orders, his voice echoing in your head.

Like a button being pushed to activate something inside of you, your orgasm is triggered and you cum in your husband’s mouth with a choked moan. Hitoshi gladly slurps up what you offer him as your body shakes and thrashes against his mouth, the aftershocks taking over.

Your loud moans die down into soft groans and sighs while Hitoshi hums appreciatively against your pussy. Once your orgasm high fades, he pulls away and licks his lips clean of you. He stares down at you like a starving man and you’re a dessert plate.

“Look at that face,” he chuckles. “You’re so cum drunk, it’s adorable. I bet you want more, right?” You nod, unable to let out nothing but a soft whimper. Your man doesn’t like that.

He takes a handful of your braids and harshly tugs on them, causing you to gasp at the sharp sting. “What was that?” He growls, getting reeeeal close to you. So close that you can smell the mint gum on his breath.

Your stomach flips and your pussy gushes despite the orgasm it just had. You love it when he gets like this. “Yes, Daddy, I want more.” He smiles and presses a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. “That’s my good little kitty. Now come here.”

He unties your wrists and gives you time to recover before flipping you on top of him. You giggle, settling down onto him with your plump ass in his face. His hands come down to smack it, watching it recoil deliciously for him. “You’re just too fuckin’ perfect,” he sighs. “I can’t believe I have to go into work and give up this for an hour.”

He adjusts underneath you so his cock is in your face, only separated by his underwear. “Take me out, baby,” he raspily orders you. You do so, peeling his briefs off of him to reveal his long, thick cock dripping in precum for you.

While you spit on your hands and proceed to stroke him, he begins to eat you out again, flicking his tongue against your overly-sensitive clit. “Hitoshi,” you whimper. “P-Please go slow. M’sensitive.”

SMACK!

He begins to do that ‘thing’ that you like—where his big, fat cock bobs without him using his hands or hips to do it. Your eyes grow big, hypnotized by the lewd movement. “As long as you do a good job suckin’ this cock,” he huskily says. “Think you can do that for me, kitty?”

You look back at him, knowing he loves it when you do that. “Yes, sir.”

Minutes later, you’ve got your throat full of his cock while he plays with your pussy, his fingers gently stroking your clit in semi-circles. You indulge in his delicious sounds and the way his toes curl as you bob your head up and down along his length, taking him in and out of your tight, wet throat.

“Such a good little slut,” he groans. “Your mouth was made for me, baby I swear.” You begin to take him deeper, coaxing him to use your mouth for his pleasure. He catches on immediately. “Oh…you want me to fuck that gorgeous face? Say no more.”

He lifts his hips up and begins thrusting into your mouth, plunging his cock deeper and deeper into your throat. You begin to gag along his length, but you never tap out. You take all of him, desperate for more.

“Yeah?” he chuckles. “You like that? This pussy certainly seems to—she’s so wet for me.”

He begins to eat you out, swirling his tongue inside of your wet hole and nudging his nose against your clit. As you indulge in each other and your tastes, the sound of a buzzer suddenly pierces through the air.

Hitoshi’s iPhone alarm. He sets it every morning when he wakes up or before a late shift when he needs to rest beforehand. He doesn’t want to oversleep. You pop off of his cock, catching your breath. “T-Toshi, your phone!” you moan. “You have to get ready!”

But Hitoshi never moves, his voice muffled by your thighs as he continues to eat you out. “Don’t care. Now cum for me.”

And like a puppet on a string, your body does exactly as your man wants it to.

You grind your hips shamelessly into his mouth as you have your second orgasm, pleasure zipping through you as fast as the speed of light. You moan and sob to the ceiling as you cum all over your husband’s waiting mouth, his cock throbbing and pulsing at the sound of your sweet, sexy moans. At some point, his alarm stops and all that fills the air are the sounds of his sloppy pussy-eating and your moans.

You think that Hitoshi will see how exhausted you are as your second orgasm fades. You think he’ll see that this is enough and your pussy can’t take another orgasm…but as usual, you’re wrong.

Hitoshi is a greedy lover. “Nicely done, gorgeous,” he chuckles. “You listen so well to me.” He begins to fuck your hand wrapped around his cock, groaning as he does. “You’ve still got somethin’ to take care before I leave, kitty, don’t you?”

And like an obedient submissive for your Dom, you turn to him and nod. “Yes, Daddy,” you obediently say.

Gently, you lift yourself up with Hitoshi’s cock still in your hand. Slowly, you sit yourself down and take the head inside of the wet, quivering depths of your pussy. You both moan at the sensation, especially as he gets deeper and deeper, sinking inside of you as you sit on it fully.

Desperate and needy, you begin to bounce on his cock. It is slow at first, but gradually, you grow frantic and begin to fully bounce on him, your tits jiggling and your pussy open for him.

Hitoshi grabs your tits and massages them as you bounce on him, watching your ass jiggle and shake as you take his cock.

“That’s. Fucking. It,” he growls, each word punctuated as you come down. “Such a. Good. Fuckin’. Girl!” He wraps a hand around your braids, tugging them back. “You love takin’ this big dick, don’t you? Much better than a phone, right?”

You can’t agree more with that. “God yes!” You practically sob. “Yes, I love it!” Your hips begin to grind as you ride your husband’s dick like you stole the damn thing, pleasure zipping throughout your bones and muscles.

Suddenly, the sounds of your mixed moans and sex are interrupted by your ringtone again. Mina is calling again. You look towards the glowing screen, but Hitoshi stops those thoughts by wrapping a hand around your throat. “Don’t even fuckin’ think about it,” he growls. “I’m about to break that phone if you keep playin’ with me.”

The phone continues to ring, rudely puncturing the air and ruining the atmosphere. “B-But—“

You squeak as you’re suddenly picked up and placed on all fours on the bed. Face down, ass up. Just the way Hitoshi likes to fuck.

With his cock still inside of you, he grabs your hips and begins to draw himself out of you “Or do you not wanna cum?” he asks. The loss of that feeling sends you spiraling. “‘Toshi, no!” You beg and plead. “Please don’t stop! I’m sorry!”

Hitoshi slides back home inside of you, drawing a loud moan out of both of you. “You’re what?” he firmly asks. “Say it again.” His hips begin to piston in and out of you at a slow but hard pace, stretching your pussy out and abusing your G-spot in the best way possible.

You gasp, moan, and wail into the bedsheets, your hands gripping the sheets in an effort to keep yourself from exploding. “I-I-I’m sorry!” you sob. “I’m so sorry, Daddy!”

Hitoshi places a foot on the bed and begins to fuck you silly, his cock stroking your insides and filling you up over and over again. “Keep sayin’ it,” he demands, his voice low and deep. “Tell me you’re sorry for ignoring me. That you’re sorry for bein’ a little brat all the goddamn time. Say it if you want more of this cock.”

You would say that you’re a cow and can moo if he ordered you to. “I’m sorry, ‘Toshi! I won’t be a brat anymore, I promise! I’ll be your good girl!”

The tears that have begun to prick at your lashes wet your lash line. Hitoshi reaches down to wipe one away, sucking on his finger. Freaky ass bitch. “You are my good girl. You just need to be reminded sometimes.”

He goes faster, harder, drilling your pussy into the bed. “So you’re not gonna be a brat no more? You’re not gonna be in your phone while you should be fucking me, right?”

“No!” you wail. “No, I promise, Daddy, oh, my God, I’m gonna cum!” Your words come out in a rushed, rapid sentence as your moans grow louder and your third orgasm of the night peaks.

“Do it,” Hitoshi growls, his voice deep in your ear and echoing in your head. “Cum for me and I’ll forgive you. C’mon, baby, give it to me. Do it for me.”

His voice and his cock demand you to have your final orgasm of the night. As soon as it hits, it is intense and abrupt. You let out a loud moan of your husband’s name along with a string of sobs as you cum all over his cock. Hitoshi chases his orgasm with yours, your pussy clenching around him and stroking his orgasm out of him.

“I’m gonna cum,” he moans. “Stay right there.” You do as you’re told and stay still even as your pussy quivers and throbs around him, overstimulated by his rough fucking. “Cum for me, husband,” you purr. “I’ll take it all. I always do.”

That is the straw that breaks the camel’s back for Hitoshi. He grabs his arms around you and holds you tight as he cums deep inside of you, filling you to the brim with his spunk. You let out a delirious giggle as he cums, the high of his sex and the orgasms washing over you.

When your dual highs fade and you come down from the clouds, Hitoshi peppers your face and neck in kisses. “My perfect little wife,” he sighs. “My kitty. My good, good girl.”

You shiver and melt at his words and under his lips, feeling his quirk begin to fade. Once it does, Hitoshi lays you down under the sheets and presses himself against you. You curl into him, spooning with him. “That was much better than Pinterest,” you softly say.

Hitoshi’s raspy laugh makes your stomach joyously flip. You tilt your head up to share a kiss with him, but the sound of his alarm stops him. “Ah, shit, I’m late,” he groans. His hand shoots out to slam on his phone screen, stopping the sound.

He turns over to face you, giving you a lazy smirk. “Might as well take my time then.” He kisses you and trails his lips down to your neck, sending goose pimples across your skin. “But what about—“

Your phone rings again and this time, Hitoshi lets you answer it. You moan weakly as he begins to massage one of your breasts, his thumb playing with one of your hardened, brown nipples. “It’s Mina,” you giggle and shush him. He gives you a wink as you answer the phone. “Hi, hon, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N, hey, I’ve been calling you!” Mina says. “Where’s Hitoshi? I’ve been trying to reach him. We’re supposed to patrol tonight.”

“Pssst.”

Hitoshi motions for you to give him the phone. When you hand it over, he then crooks his finger in a come hither motion towards you, exciting you. ”Yes, sir,” you giggle.

Like a moth to a flame, you draw yourself to him and begin to kiss, touch, and stroke him to your heart’s content while he keeps his voice level on the phone. “Hey, Pinky, it’s me,” he says. “Sorry about the confusion. I got caught up in something.”

That overnight shift never happened, by the way.

THE END.

[sataraxia]

jerk.

earth42!miles x fem!reader

summary: you haven't heard about him for a whole week, what a 'jerk'. (wc: 3.9 k, kinda short and a dumb blurb)

warnings: cursing, a kind of suggestive? line at the end.

a/n: it's the first time i publish something so maybe it's kinda bad idk, and also this isn't angst miles is actually the best man ever pls i just wanna hug him. aand english isn't my first language so pls pls let me know if i spelled something wrong!

"I heard that kiki was invited to prom in the most romantic way possible, I'm so jealous."

"oh god, yeah, I wish I had a boyfriend like hers, or well, just a boyfriend".

You were biting your nails right now, looking everywhere but at your friends, what a topic, huh?

“hey, your boyfriend already invited you?”

And there was the question, you just looked lazily at them “uh, sure”

The truth was that you hadn't been talking to Miles for a week or so, and this was exactly why.

You always understood that maybe he didn't like a lot of things about high school, and you never complained about it, but this time, it was something important to you, and he didn't seem to care.

"baby, it's just a dance, I don't understand why you're acting like it's such a big deal." he said while not even looking at your direction.

"maybe it's a big deal that you're being a jerk about this."

Yeah, that conversation didn't end well, you haven't heard from him since.

The thing was, you don't do a lot of couple things publicly, and it's slowly starting to affect your mind, maybe he didn't want to be seen with you, or someone couldn't see him with you, the thought alone causing you to shiver. 

You spent the rest of the day distracting yourself with your friends and your homework, secretly waiting for a message from him to appear on your phone.

It did, but definitely not what you expected.

miles <4: 'i’m back in town, wyd?'

Oh. 

You didn't know whether to be happy that he wasn't ignoring you, or angry that he didn't give the last discussion more than a thought. 

You decided not to let it go this time, and not even look at the text.

Of course, that was stupid, but so were you.

It wasn't more than two hours, he was already knocking on your window, and once you let him in, he just looked at you, deeply.

“wanna’ tell me what’s up with you, darling?”

That was not affectionate, he was annoyed, mocking, you realize.

“nothing.” you couldn’t look at him when you were lying, he knew that.

“i thought you were the one who opted for that communication bullshit, cmon.”

“where were you?”

“work”  the tone was defensive, almost secretive, it was always like that when he mentioned something about the prowler, you never talked a lot about it.

“you could have told me”

“thought you didn't want a jerk talking to you?”

“yeah, but you’re still my boyfriend, Miles, we argued, and I didn't hear about you for a whole week.”

“sorry.”

That's what made your veins boil the most, he was never mean, disrespectful, or a jerk.

He always knew when to say sorry or when he had done the wrong thing, that meant he didn't really care about the problem that kept popping into your head, he didn't see it like a problem at all.

And that only made you feel dumber, maybe you were overreacting, again.

“it’s okay, i just missed you” 

That's all you had to say for him to look at you with those eyes that made you feel like the most special woman on earth, that made any insecurity disappear just as the space between your bodies did.

“i missed you too.”

Of course, he stayed the whole night with you.

The next afternoon, when you entered your room, you saw a package on your bed, with a note on top of it

“I couldn't go to prom if my girl wasn't wearing my color, be at your door by eight o'clock. 

                                                                                                      luv ya, miles.”

Inside the package was a beautiful dress, vibrant purple, obviously.

This was definitely the man of your dreams.

+bonus:

Eight o'clock, and he was with his motorcycle at your door.

"you are breathtaking, love" he said and you approached him to give him just a little kiss, while smiling.

"thanks for all this, but I thought it wasn't a big deal?" a smirk adorned your face.

"it was a big deal if you were calling me a jerk about it" you grabbed his waist as you settled on the bike.

"sorry about that." a little peck on the cheek.

"you'll have time to apologize to me, don't worry:"

[stevie-petey]

episode eight: the upside down

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

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

rating: general, cursing and slight scary violence

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

words: 13.7k

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

-

You almost miss Jonathan and Nancy sneaking off. 

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

What the fuck. 

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

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

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

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

“Just what? Sneaking off without me?”

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

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

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

“No, we can discuss this right here.” 

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

“You’ve lost that privilege.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You drop his hand. “Excuse me?” 

Jonathan’s smile is gone. “What?”

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

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

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

“Y/N–”

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

“Please, just–”

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

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

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

You’re sick of it. 

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

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

Dustin sees you approach and smiles, but when he notices the angry pace in your steps, he frowns. “Uh oh.”

“Yeah, uh oh.” 

“Jonathan again?”

You nod, still too angry to trust your words. “Yeah.” 

He notices the keys in your hand. “Where are you going?”

Mike and Lucas look over now, curious as to what’s happening. 

You sigh. “I’m going with Nancy and Jonathan to the Byers house, we’re going to kill the monster.” 

“Why the hell are you going?” Dustin exclaims while Mike shoutes “sick!” and Lucas mumbles “great, alone again”. El remains quiet, still resting. 

You flick your brother’s hat. “I have to, Dustin.”

“For Jonathan?” He shakes his head. “I like him, but aren’t you mad at him right now?”

“Is it just me, or is she always mad at him these days?” Mike whispers over to Lucas, who simply shrugs. 

“Girls, man.” 

You ignore them and focus on Dustin. “It doesn’t matter. He needs my help, and no one in the party gets left behind. Remember?”

“Y/N–”

“I love you,” you kiss the top of his head. “I promise I’ll be safe, just be careful, okay? I’m putting you in charge, so don’t let me down. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll see you in a few hours tops!”

Dustin tries to argue some more, but you quickly run back outside before he can get another word in. You feel horrible leaving him behind, but you know this is the right decision. If you can kill the monster, there’s less of a chance of the kids or Joyce and Hopper getting hurt. Jonathan and Nancy may be fine on their own, but there’s always power in numbers and they’ll need all the help they can get. 

You just… you have to help. You know this is what you’re supposed to be doing, even if it pains you to do so. Dustin and the kids are smart; as long as they stay at the school, they’ll be fine. 

In theory, that is.

Nancy and Jonathan are waiting for you outside. You push past them and march towards Jonathan’s care; they awkwardly follow after you. You unlock it, throw yourself into the backseat, and promptly dig through your backpack to make sure you have everything. 

The two teens get in a few minutes after you. Not one word is spoken as Jonathan starts the car and the three of you drive off, leaving Hawkins Middle behind. 

– 

You thought the car ride with Nancy and Jonathan from the funeral home had been tense, but this one? Downright painful. 

Jonathan has a tight grip on the steering wheel and keeps trying to catch your eye through the rearview mirror but you avoid his gaze. You’ve spent the last five minutes arranging and rearranging your backpack to give you something to do while Nancy has tried three times to make conversation to make this car ride bearable. 

“El seems nice.” 

“You said four words to her, Nancy.” You retort, switching open your switchblade once more to watch the moonlight dance off of its blades. 

“Right.” 

Nancy shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat. You know she realizes she’s once again upset the balance in your relationship with Jonathan. It was only an hour ago that she tried getting you to admit your feelings for him before convincing the boy to up and leave you. Sure, Jonathan made his own decision in the end, but damn. She could’ve at least pretended to want you around. 

She notices your knives and tries to spark conversation again. “I love the color of the handle, it’s beautiful.” 

“Thanks,” you switch the blades closed and sit up in your seat. “Anyways, you geniuses have a plan or were you just counting on ditching me and winging it from there?”

“Y/N–”

“No, Nancy. I insist, let’s talk about a plan. We’re here to kill a monster, right?”

She closes her mouth and frowns, turning to Jonathan for help, but he’s no use. He’s busy tapping his fingers against the wheel and praying that the world will just swallow him up whole. Too bad for him you’re a stubborn pain in the ass and would simply pluck him back up so you can torture him some more. 

Nancy sighs. “Well, Jonathan and I were thinking we use the supplies we got earlier and lure the monster to his place, then we kill it.” 

“Awesome plan, guys!” You say, your voice dripping with sickly sweetness that leaves them both feeling even more uncomfortable. “But may I suggest some actual details or shall we just bank off of this wonderfully dull and vague plan?” 

“Sure, Y/N. Tell us what you had in mind.” Nancy rubs her face tiredly, knowing she deserves this. 

“Great! I’m assuming we’re luring the monster with blood?” They nod at you, so you continue. “Okay, so before we lure it I think we should completely booby-trap Jonathan’s house. Nail the bear trap down onto the floor, make sure the floor is cleared of anything that could trip us up. Then, once we’ve got the house secured, we knick ourselves to draw some blood and pray to whatever god is up there that we can kill the thing.” 

You pause for a moment, remembering how all the Christmas lights had been unscrewed by Joyce earlier. “The lights, we need to fix them. The monster communicates through the lights so if we have them, then we can track it.”

“That all sounds great, bug.” Jonathan finally speaks up, ass kissing. 

“Thanks, pal. Still don’t have the bug privilege back, but I’m sure you simply forgot.” 

He gulps, once more going back to being silent as he drives you and Nancy to his house. 

Nancy again tries to diffuse the tension. “How do we even kill the monster though? I mean, will my bullets be enough?”

“I have this idea, but it’s… well, it’s out there.” You bite your lip, now feeling your cocky demeanor slipping. “If we can safely set fire to it, I think that’s our best bet.”

“Fire?” Jonathan exclaims, but Nancy shushes him. 

“I think you’re right.” 

“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me but do we really have to set fire to my house–”

Now it’s your turn to shush Jonathan. “This isn’t about that. I wouldn’t burn your house down, I already told you I’d just pour tar on your car whenever I get the chance. For now, I really do think the best thing to do is burn the monster alive. In every horror movie and book, fire always gets the job done.” 

Despite herself, Nancy lets out a soft chuckle as Jonathan parks the car, now at his house. “She’s right, Jonathan. And who burns down houses these days? Tar really is the best form of revenge.” 

“I’m flattered, Wheeler. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be off my shitlist in no time.” You tell her, patting her on the shoulder before getting out of the car. You quickly open up the trunk and gather the monster hunting supplies while Jonathan and Nancy take their time getting out. 

You let yourself into the Byers home using your own key to the place. It’s been nestled in between the key to your house and the spare key to Jonathan’s car on your keychain for a few years now. 

The first thing you get started on are the lights. There’s hundreds of them to get through, but you drop your supplies and begin screwing them in one by one. Nancy and Jonathan come in soon after and silently begin to help. 

No conversation is made besides the necessary comments about the prep work. You’re all too focused on the possibility of what could happen next; the danger of the situation has finally set in. After the lights have all been fixed, you instruct Jonathan to begin nailing the bear trap down while you and Nancy discuss where to pour the gasoline. You both agree to make a path from the living room to Will’s room. 

As Nancy pours the gasoline, you follow behind her and pick up any flammables. You weren't lying to Jonathan earlier, you really don’t want to burn his house down. While the house is wrecked, it’s still a home despite everything that’s happened in it. You practically grew up within its walls, you’d do anything to keep it as protected as possible. 

When you’re done, you watch Nancy load her gun. A shiver runs down our spine; she looks at ease with it, which you figure should be reassuring, but the gravity of everything leaves you feeling on edge. You leave her alone and walk into the kitchen where Jonathan is, now hammering a ton of nails into his bat. 

You begin to sharpen your blades next to him, still finding that you only feel secure by his side. The rhythmic sound of his hammering calms you, in a sense. It serves as a distraction. You know you insisted on coming, you don’t regret it and you know you’re stronger than everyone seems to give you credit for, but you’re also terrified. This isn’t just some adventure in the woods; this could kill the ones you love dearly. 

Once you’re both done preparing your weapons, the two of you walk to Will’s room and rig up a simple snare. Jonathan grabs a yo-yo and you pull up a chair to set it on. The idea is that when the string gets pulled, it’ll alert you that the monster has sprung the bear trap. It’s not the most efficient warning system, but it’ll have to do. 

The last thing to do is set the bear trap, which takes all three of you to achieve. Jonathan and Nancy hold down the edges with their body weight and you very carefully set the trap with your hand. You shake a bit as you do so, but you force your nerves down. You remind yourself that Jonathan thinks you’re too weak, too cowardly, you have to prove him wrong. 

When the bear trap clicks into place, you let out a harsh exhale and sink against the wall, your heart still pounding. Jonathan and Nancy copy you and the three of you sit in silence. You’re still shaking a bit, and Jonathan is next to you just as tense, but for the first time since you’ve met him you can’t reach out to grab his hand to steady yourself. He’s too far, both literally and figuratively. Even with him next to you, you couldn’t be more far apart. 

In the back of your mind, you hope the kids are alright. Hopefully they’re having a better night than you currently are. 

“C’mon,” you say after a few minutes, getting up to walk over to the living room. “We’ve done all we can, now we just have to draw some blood and be the prettiest bait in Hawkins.”

– 

Nancy and Jonathan decide to cut the palm of their hands, but you respectfully would rather die than have a matching scar with them. The idea makes you so uncomfortable you visibly cringe when Jonathan tells you the idea. “Yeah, no thanks. I think I’ll find somewhere else to cut.” 

He looks hurt by what you’ve said but doesn’t voice it. Instead, the three of you stand in the living room in a triangle facing each other and he begins reciting the plan. “Remember…”

Nancy goes first. “Straight into Will’s room and–” 

“Don’t step on the trap.” You finish.

Jonathan nods. “And then?”

“Wait for the yo-yo to move.” The girl says. 

“Then…” Jonathan flicks the lighter on.

You whistle low. “Let there be light…” 

“Right. Light.” The boy nods again. “Alright, we ready?”

“Ready.”

“Scar time.” 

Jonathan and Nancy bring their hands up and place their knives flat against their palms. You roll up your sleeve and place your own knife against the upper part of your arm, just below your shoulder, and take a deep breath. 

“On three,” Jonathan says. He begins counting and you all can’t seem to stop shaking. He senses your unease and looks up at you and Nancy. “You guys don’t have to do this.”

Nancy glares at him, her own voice shaky. “Jonathan, stop talking.”

You nod. “Yeah, what she said.”

Jonathan tries to argue, but Nancy squeezes her eyes shut and yells, “Three!”

You close your own eyes and slice at your arm, the pain immediate. You gasp out, never having been good with pain, but you know you have to do this for Will. The blood trails down your arm, dripping from your elbow onto the ground, and you watch as blood from Jonathan’s and Nancy’s own cuts falls onto the ground too. 

Well, at least it’ll be an easy scar to hide compared to theirs. 

“Fuck, that stings.” You say to break the silence, and Nancy nods her head in agreement. 

“Not the most pleasant feeling.” 

Jonathan guides the two of you over to the couch and grabs the first aid kit that you had prepared on the coffee table. He sits in the middle, leaving room for both you and Nancy on each side of him, but you’re still pissed at him and opt to sit on the floor in front of the couch.

Nancy begins to patch up his wound, and it takes everything within you not to reach over and help him yourself. It feels unnatural to watch someone else taking care of him, but the space between you still feels too vast to cross. 

You patch up your own cut while the two of them talk quietly. You wind a bandage tight around your arm, ensuring you won’t bleed through, and Jonathan watches above you with guilt in his eyes. Nancy is trying to reassure him that everything will be okay, but as he watches you struggle to tie the bandage he wonders if he’s fucked up more than just your friendship.

“Bug, let me help with that.” He leans down and ties your bandage before you can stop him. 

You glare at him, still having not said anything to Jonathan besides what was needed for preparation. Nancy distracts herself by cleaning up around his cut and your stomach twists into knots. This is all so miserable. 

“Y/N, I know you’re upset with me and you can go whenever. I won’t blame you, you’ve done enough for me.” Jonathan says, trying to catch your eye. 

You turn away and inspect your bandage, still reeling over the fact that he tied it for you. “I’m here for Will, and only Will.”

“Y/N…” There’s a hurt in his voice that almost makes you turn around to throw your arms around his neck and whisper a million apologies to him. To tell him everything, that you love him and that you’d do anything for him and that’s why you’re so terrified of how you feel. You know you’d burn yourself up if it meant he’d be taken care of, if it meant he was safe and happy and far away from anything that could harm him. You know you’d use up everything within you to love him. 

Instead, you remain silent.

After getting no response from you, Jonathan clears his throat and begins to say something about how the lights will serve as an alarm for the monster, trying to pretend that everything is okay, but he’s cut off by a sudden pounding on the door.

You all jump and your fingers tighten around your switchblade, ready to open it. As your heart pounds you think of all the possible ways the plan could go wrong. When you’re on possibility number twelve, a voice calls through the door. 

“Jonathan?”

“Is that… Steve?” You say out loud, in complete disbelief. 

Steve continues to pound on the door. “Are you there, man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk!”

You’re the first to react, standing up to run over to the door. You fling it open and step outside, making sure Steve won’t be able to see inside the house. When he sees you, he stumbles back a bit. “Henderson?”

His face is still bleeding from earlier and his hair is a mess, and yet there’s a softness to him that you haven’t seen before with him. “Steve, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Can I just talk to Jonathan real quick? I just… I want to apologize about what happened earlier, see if we can maybe–” His eyes land on your bandaged arm. You curse and roll down your sleeve, feeling like an idiot for forgetting to hide the wound before going outside. 

Steve reaches out to touch it, a hint of worry on his face and his voice is now full of concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

You shiver at his touch, it’s gentle as he skims along the bandage and inspects it for any other problems. You pull away, now hiding the wound. “It’s nothing, but you should really go.”

“I want to help you, Y/N. Do you need me to get you anything?” His face is so full of worry for you that it makes you ache. Then a thought occurs to him. “Wait, where’s Byers? Why isn’t he here to help you?”

You’re about to make up a lie, but Nancy flings the door open. “Steve, listen to me.”

He looks between the two of you in complete shock. “Okay, what–”

“You need to leave.” Nancy orders.

Steve looks at you. “I’m not trying to start anything, okay?”

“I know, but–” You get cut off by Nancy.

“I don’t care about that. You need to leave.”

Steve begins to plead with the girl and you step away a bit, not wanting to intrude. You feel bad for him, he looks so beat down by what’s happened today and you suppose that you can’t really blame him. After spending maybe a total of ten hours with Nancy and Jonathan, you also have come close to losing your mind. 

If you were with Jonathan, if you truly had him, you’d react the same as Steve. Begging for the girl he loves to listen to him, to give him another chance with the promise of him changing. 

“I just want to make things right.” Steve says, impressing you with his vulnerability. He’s openly admitting to his mistakes and taking accountability mere hours after the situation has occurred, leaving you both in awe of him and also saddened for him. He loves Nancy more than anything, you can hear it in his voice. 

He deserves better. 

As you’re thinking this, you see his eyes flicker down towards Nancy’s bandaged hand and his brows furrow. “What happened to your hand? Is that blood?” His eyes now flicker over to you again. “Why are you both hurt?”

“We’re clumsy?” You say as Nancy yanks her hand away from Steve.

“It was an accident.” She agrees. 

Steve looks between the two of you, now sensing that something else is wrong. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” Nancy insists, but something in Steve’s demeanor shifts. 

“Wait a second, did he do this to you? To Y/N?” His once soft voice is now filled with anger and you step in front of him. 

“Steve, it wasn’t Jonathan. You need to go, I promise I’ll explain everything later–” 

He grabs you by your side and gently moves you so that he can get past and shove through the door. Nancy yells at him to stop and tries to push him out, but she’s useless against his strength. When he manages to break in, he stumbles inside and scans over the house. 

“Shit!” You follow after him, your brain running a million miles a second trying to figure out how to explain everything to him. 

“What the fuck?” Steve mumbles, eyeing the bat with nails in it. “Y/N, what’s going on here?”

He’s looking to you for reassurance and you guess he assumes that the two of you are allies in this Jonathan and Nancy situation. You really wish you could explain, but Jonathan has grabbed him by the shoulders and is trying to push him outside. The two stumble around for a few seconds and you just helplessly watch. 

“Steve, there’s no time to explain, please just listen to Jonathan and get out of here!” You’re helping Jonathan now, trying to get Steve out the door and away from harm’s reach, but he’s still fighting back confused and lost as ever and you pity him. 

You hear a click and turn around, gasping when you see Nancy holding her gun up to Steve. “Woah, what the fuck Nancy?”

“What! What is going on?” Steve yells, now more panicked than anything else. 

While Jonathan has stepped away, you find yourself standing in front of Steve as if to somehow block the bullet. You can’t let him get hurt, he doesn’t have any part of this, he can still have a normal and happy life if he just leaves now. “Nancy, put the fucking gun down, this isn’t helping!”

Steve pleads with her as well and the two of you scream at the girl to just listen and not swing around loaded weapons, but Nancy remains firm in her stance. “You have five seconds to get out of here. I’m doing this for you.”

“Because holding a gun to his head is any better than telling him the truth?” You exclaim, entirely over the situation. 

As the four of you are arguing, the lights begin to flicker. Steve and Nancy don’t seem to notice, but you do. You look at Jonathan and say your first real words to him in hours. “Jonathan…”

He hears you and he runs over to your side, grabbing your hand as the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder. You feel your heartbeat race and you can feel him shaking beside you. He’s terrified, so are you, but his hand around yours manages to steady you. 

“Nancy!” Jonathan tries to get the girl’s attention, but she’s too busy counting down to hear him. 

He shouts at her again and the lights start to flicker more wildly and you draw your switchblade out, adrenaline coursing through you. It’s time. 

Jonathan yells once more and finally catches Nancy’s attention. “The lights!”

She whips her head around and curses, Jonathan, still tightly holding your hand, tugs you along so that you follow him as he secures his weapons and grabs the bat. “It’s here.”

“What’s here?” Steve is flailing around, utterly lost.

You all ignore him and now stand back to back in a triangle. Nancy holds up her gun, Jonathan wields his bat, and you flick your wrist to bring out your knives. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know!” 

The lights flicker rapidly and you feel overwhelmed. They were supposed to serve as a guide towards the monster, but there's no possible way to see which direction it’ll come from and for a fleeting moment you think you’ve made a huge mistake. 

Steve is still screaming, demanding answers, but you’re too busy scanning your surroundings to offer him some information. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going–”

The roof opens up, cutting Steve off, and you scream as the monster attempts to come down right above you. Jonathan shields you from the fallen debris and you cling onto him in utter fear. This isn’t real. This cannot be happening. 

Nancy begins to shoot at the thing while Jonathan guides you to safety. He brings you to the edge of the living room and holds your face in his hands, forcing you to really look at him for the first time all night. “Listen to me, stay here while I get Nancy.”

He kisses your forehead and then leaves, rushing over to Nancy to pull her away and guide her towards Will’s room. Steve stands next to you, frozen, and it forces you back to reality. The plan, you have to stick to the plan. 

You grab Steve’s hand and yank him so that he follows. The monster has dropped down now, a horrible creature on all fours that opens its gaping mouth to let out a horrible screech that you feel deep within your bones. This is what killed Barb. 

The four of you run to Will’s room and you only just barely have enough time to warn Steve about the bear trap. You look over your shoulder and shout, “Jump!” right as your ankle catches on its chains. 

You fall. Hard. 

Pain sears through your ankle and you try to get up, but any pressure on it sends flames through your entire body and you let out another scream. The monster catches up, looming over you, and you brace for your death. There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of this. 

You squeeze your eyes as the monster stalks close to you, its ugly mouth open and ready to kill you. Jonathan is screaming at you to get up, but Nancy is holding him back from helping. You’re relieved by this, knowing that someone has to be there for Will once this is all done. He’ll need his brother, and Nancy seems to understand this. You catch her eye and nod at her, sending a silent thank you. 

“Bug! No, let go of me! I have to help her, Nancy!” Jonathan’s voice becomes hoarse by how loud he screams, his voice breaking with fear and desperation. 

Then, right before the monster lunges at you, you feel a familiar pair of arms slide underneath your legs and pick you up. “What–”

Steve Harrington has swooped in to save you, picking you up as if you weigh nothing, ever the athlete, and swiftly jumps over the bear trap while screaming his head off. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

You’re so delirious from the pain in your ankle and the adrenaline pumping through your veins that you can’t help but let a laugh escape you. No fucking way is any of this real. Steve Harrington is carrying you bridal style into Will’s bedroom with Jonathan and Nancy as witnesses. 

What a life. 

Once you’re both secured in the room, Steve sets you down gently right as Nancy yells at him to shut up. As soon as Steve lets go of you, Jonathan is at your side and pulls you into a crushing hug. 

“Bug.” He breathes out against your ear, relief heavy. 

“I’m okay.” You tell him, threading your fingers through his hair. He’s shaking harder than ever, and holding onto you as if he’s scared he’ll lose you again. “I’m okay, bee.” 

He pulls away and his hands are all over you, checking everywhere for any other injuries. “Did it hurt you, are you bleeding? There should be a first aid kit–”

You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, which seems to calm him down a bit. “I’m fine, just twisted my ankle. If you help me up, I’m sure I’ll be able to stand again.” 

Jonathan quickly helps you to your feet and you lean against him for the extra support. While you put on a brave face for Jonathan, you’re terrified out of your fucking mind. You almost died. Jonathan is still holding your hand and he’s looking at you as if seeing you for the first time and you force yourself to look away. It’s the same look from the field days ago, when you thought he’d kiss you. 

You have to focus on what’s at stake.

How the hell are you guys supposed to kill this thing?

The monster screeches, breaking the moment between you and Jonathan, and he flicks his lighter on and forces you to stand behind him. Nancy holds up her gun and you bring your knives closer to your face, Steve standing weaponless behind you. 

You all wait, tense, for the monster. It stalks closer to the room, its awful growls alerting you of its proximity, but it doesn’t appear. 

“What’s it doing?” Nancy asks, frustrated. 

“I don’t know.” You respond, equally as frustrated and scared. 

Another few agonizing seconds pass, and you stare at the yo-yo and hope that it remains still. Then, the lights stop flickering and it becomes quiet. All you can hear is your blood roaring in your ears. 

Nancy looks around. “Do you hear anything?”

“No,” Jonathan shakes his head, inching closer to the door. 

“Wait!” You tug at your still interlocked hands. You pick up his bat that had been thrown on the ground and hand it to him. “Be careful. Please.”

He gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go, accepting the bat.

As Jonathan pokes his head out to see if the monster is outside, Steve bends his head down and whispers in your ear, “Romantic.”

“Shut. Up.” You hit him in the chest, fearfully watching your best friend to make sure he doesn't die. When he motions an all clear, Nancy follows him outside, then you, then Steve. 

The house is silent and your heart sinks when you see that the bear trap has been left untouched. You realize with a horrible gut wrench that the monster is smarter than the three of you had anticipated. 

So much for your plan, then.

“It’s smarter than we thought.” 

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees with dismay. 

He stalks against the wall towards the living room and you all follow in a single file line. You do your best to stick close to the wall but you limp with every step. Your ankle is definitely out of commission for now. Great. 

All of you are on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It couldn’t have been that easy, there’s no possible way that the monster simply up and left. You enter the living room, which has gotten even more wrecked due the monster. The wallpaper has been torn off of some parts of the wall and you see papers scattered everywhere. 

“Shit…” you mumble, kicking at a shredded wallpaper strip. 

In the corner, Steve has started to hyperventilate and mumble to himself. “This is crazy, this is so crazy, this is fucking crazy.” 

You limp over to him and grab his shoulders, making him face you. “Steve, hey. It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Y/N, what the hell just happened?” 

“It’s… complicated. For now, can you trust me that everything will be okay?” 

“Of course I trust you, it’s just…” He nods, his eyes softening. You lessen your hold on him and give him a smile, he seems to be calming down. Then, he looks around the room and seemingly remembers where he is. “This is crazy!” 

Steve lunges for the phone on the wall and tries to call for help. 

You stumble after him, the pain in your ankle slowing you down. “Steve, wait–”

Nancy gets to him first, grabbing the phone out of his hand and throwing it across the room. He looks at her, shocked. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“It’s going to come back!” Nancy yells at him, and you wince at the way she treats him. You know Steve will only listen to her, but she could at least be nicer about the whole situation. The three of you have had some time to process everything happening, Steve was thrown into the deep end. 

“You could be a little nicer,” you mumble, and Nancy sends you a glare. You raise your hands up in surrender. “Sorry.” 

“Steve, you need to leave. Right now.”

He looks so overwhelmed and you give him a pitying look. He stares at you, reminiscent of the way he looked at you earlier in the alley, silently begging you to say something, anything, but again you can only shake your head at him. You won’t force him to stay, it wouldn’t be fair.

“Y/N, please…” He tries one more time to get you on his side, but you can’t. Frustrated by your lack of response, Steve groans. “Fuck it!” 

He runs out the door. 

You’ll admit that you’re a bit disappointed, but you also understand. Who in their right mind would stay? 

You and Nancy share a look before the lights begin to flicker again. Dread fills you. “Fuck…”

Jonathan is back by your side and he and Nancy again form a triangle with you, all your backs pressed together as you desperately try to locate the monster. You all stumble in a circle, searching for any sign of the thing, but there’s nothing. 

“Where is it?” Nancy gasps out.

“Just fucking show yourself!” You shout, just wanting this all to be over with. Your body is drained from living in a state of fear for so long. 

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Jonathan echoes your taunts. 

Suddenly the lights turn off and you’re left alone in complete darkness. Faintly you can hear the monster’s familiar growl approaching from behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, the air stands still. It’s back. Before you can react, it pounces on Jonathan. 

“Jonathan!” You scream alongside Nancy. Desperation takes over you and before you can even process what’s happening, you ignore the pain in your ankle and jump onto its back, stabbing repeatedly at it. 

Your blades only bounce off of its thick skin and the monster struggles to get you off. You hold on as tight as you can, shouting and kicking at it so that it can’t hurt him, but then it opens its mouth and for a horrifying moment you’re afraid that Jonathan will die.

“No!” You scream even louder than before and double down on your effort, stabbing and slashing as much as you possibly can to try and create some damage, but your arms are starting to ache and your ankle now feels like it’s on fire. 

“Nancy, its skin is too thick!” You sob out, nearing complete exhaustion. Then, just as you’re about to collapse from exhaustion, gunshots fill the room. 

Nancy begins to shoot at the monster and with the help of your blades, the two of you manage to pierce its skin, but even then the damage is minimal. It’s not enough, it won’t be enough. Tears stream down your face and the monster only gets closer to Jonathan, so you do the only thing you can think of: you crawl onto the top of its body and stab at its mouth. 

The monster lets out a blood curdling scream and flings you off of its back. You go flying across the room and land against the wall with a groan. All the air has been knocked out of you and your ribs are definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. Every part of you aches, but you manage to lift your head up and blearily process the monster now approaching Nancy as she continues to shoot at it, but it remains unphased. 

You crawl over to Jonathan, who is still laying on the ground. He’s motionless, and you fight everything within you not to break down and sob. You have to keep going, he has to be alive. As you reach Jonathan and frantically check for a pulse, the monster has now cornered Nancy and her gun seems to be out of bullets.

It’s over. You know it is. 

Right as you’ve accepted your fate, a screaming Steve Harrington wielding Jonathan’s bat once again manages to save the day. 

He hits the monster with the bat, effectively saving Nancy and you’re so impressed with his batting skills that you almost find him attractive with how easily he hits and dodges the monster. However, you file those thoughts away for later and finally manage to wake Jonathan up. He startles with a gasp and you check over his chest, scared he may have gotten pierced by the monster’s claws. 

“I’m fine, we need to help.”

You help each other up and you have to lean heavily against him due to your ankle. You bull riding the monster has only made the sprain worse; you’re too afraid to look down and see the damage that’s been done. 

As the two of you hobble over to Nancy, Jonathan looks at you. “Is Harrington really here right now?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.”

Steve manages to lure the monster closer and closer to the bear trap and you watch him in awe. He’s quick footed and so sure of himself, the complete opposite of the boy from only ten minutes ago who had run out of the house screaming his head off. Now, Steve is swift with his hits and even twirls the bat in his hand to show off. The small act causes you to smile despite the horrible circumstances. 

By the time you and Jonathan are up and recovered, Steve has successfully led the monster straight into the trap. It clamps around the monster’s foot and it screeches, flailing around in the trap. Steve still has his bat held up, now frantically looking over to everyone else. “He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!”

“Jonathan, now!” Nancy screams, motioning over at him to use his lighter. 

Jonathan listens, using his free hand to flick the lighter on and then drops it onto the ground, right into the trail of gasoline. Immediately the monster goes up in flames, letting out horrible noises. You all shield your faces from the flames and Jonathan pulls you closer into him, still having yet to let go of you; you feel yourself sink into his side as you watch the monster wither away.

“Bug, I have to get the fire extinguisher, do you think you can stand on your own?” Jonathan asks you, his voice soft but urgent. 

You quickly nod and brace yourself for his departure. “Yeah, go.” 

He lets go of you as gently as possible before running to grab the extinguisher. When he has it, he orders everyone to get back and then smothers the flames. It takes a couple seconds, but eventually the fire gets put out, leaving behind an awful stench that makes everyone cough and gag. 

“Holy fuck,” you wheeze out, hunched over. “Burnt monster smells horrible.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve coughs out. 

Nancy covers her face with her jacket. “Where did it go?”

“It has to be dead.” Jonathan pants against the wall, looking like he’s three seconds away from passing out. “It has to be.”

“It fucking better be dead.” You mumble, hobbling closer to see what exactly was left behind. When you get closer and see the giant lump of melted skin all over the bear trap, you gag. “Oh god. Yeah, okay. It’s dead.”

Everyone sighs with relief. 

Then, you notice a Christmas light above you flicker on. Your heart stops, terrified that the monster has somehow survived, but then a second one turns on, then a third, until a path seems to be guiding you towards the living room. 

You all follow, cautious but curious, but these lights don’t feel threatening. There’s an energy to them, a comforting one that leaves you breathless. When you get to the living room, tears form in your eyes, now understanding what this all is. You look at Jonathan, who also seems to be thinking what you are. 

It’s Joyce, you know it is. 

“Mom,” he breathes out. 

You limp over to him and grab his hand. He turns to you, his eyes shining with an appreciation that he only ever has for you. He seems to be drinking you in, as if now realizing just how close the two of you came to dying tonight. You’re doing the same, thankful that he’s alive and standing next to you despite everything. There’s so much the two of you want to say, but as always the words aren’t needed. You understand each other perfectly, the balance between you centered once more. 

You put your head on Jonathan’s shoulder and he brings his hand to your hair to softly stroke it. The two of you stand like that for a second, breathing each other in and enjoying the tenderness after such a miserable day, before you slowly break apart and follow the lights going outside. 

The porch light flickers and Nancy stands next to you, watching it with uncertainty. “Where’s it going?”

“I don’t think it’s the monster.” Jonathan tells her. 

“It’s Will.” You don’t know how you know this, or what makes you feel so certain that you’re right, but somehow you know that you are. Somewhere deep within you, you feel the faint outline of hope flicker. 

A new silence surrounds the four of you at your words, and for once there’s hope between you all. Then, after a minute or so of silence, everyone begins to head back inside. Steve first, then Nancy, and finally Jonathan, leaving you alone with the crisp early winter air.

You take a deep breath, the cold air serving as a reminder that you’re alive. You let it fill your lungs until you can’t breathe in anymore, then you release the air through an exhale and feel your body settle into its exhaustion. This is the first time you’ve had a moment to yourself, so you let the exhaustion weigh upon you like a warm blanket. 

Will is safe, you can feel it. Despite everything, he’s safe and alive. Jonathan is too, still your best friend regardless of all the unspoken words between the two of you. Dustin is at the school with the kids, away from danger. Everything is okay, it’ll be okay. 

You let the moment wash over you, incredibly grateful to be lucky enough to have survived it all. Everyone you love and hold close to you is safe. You didn’t fuck up this time. God, you did it. 

Jonathan comes running out after a while, his face alight with joy and he crashes into you and picks you up to twirl you around. You laugh, loud and freely, and bury your face in his hair as he continues. “Bee, stop! Put me down, you dummy!” 

He does as he’s told, but doesn’t let go of you once your feet are on the ground. “My mom just called, they saved Will. He–he’s in the hospital, he’s okay.” 

You squeal and throw your arms around Jonathan again, squeezing him so hard that you’re afraid you'll hurt him, but he simply laughs and squeezes you just as tight. Tears come again, but this time they’re happy ones, and if it weren’t for your ankle you’d be jumping up and down right now. 

Jonathan’s laughter dies down and he cups your chin around his fingers so that you look up at him. “You did it.” 

“We did it, bug.” You softly push against him. You can’t take all the credit. 

His eyes are shining again, you haven’t seen him this happy in so long, you get lost in it. His face is lit up and his smile is back and you’re so in love with him that it claws against your throat and threatens to spill out in excess.

A beat of silence passes and Jonathan just soaks your presence in. You can’t quite read his face, but for once this doesn’t frighten you. You enjoy it, you relish in the fact that he’s still yours yet now forming into someone new and lovely and wonderful. 

“You never gave up.” He whispers at last, adoration in his voice. 

“Never.” 

“You never left me.” 

“Never.” You breathe out, the word so simple with such heavy weight behind it. 

The moment is so raw, so tender, and Jonathan is giving you that look again, the one that leaves you feeling like the sun itself has settled upon you and kissed your cheek. His eyes flick down to your lips and you smile, taunting him to lean in. He seems to understand, giving you his own teasing smile before leaning in. You lean in as well, every part of you buzzing, and right before your lips touch his, Steve bursts through the door.

“Jonathan, dude, do you have like, any food in the house?” He asks, completely oblivious to what he’s just interrupted. 

You and Jonathan break apart, laughing the tension away. He ducks his head down, clears his throat, and turns to Steve. “Sorry, man. Been a little busy this week for grocery shopping.”

Steve’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Oh shit, right. Sorry, okay. Uh… Well, I’ll be inside, I guess.” 

“We’ll be in shortly.” You tell Steve. You want to be frustrated by his timing, but something tells you that you’ll have all the time in the world to tell Jonathan how you feel. Now just isn’t the time. 

– 

The moment you arrive at the hospital, Jonathan sprints out of the car and straight towards the front desk to find out where Will is. You and Nancy follow behind, figuring you won’t be able to see Will for a while since you’re not blood related, so the two of you wish Jonathan goodbye and head towards the waiting room. 

Steve lags behind, obviously unsure where to go. Nancy immediately walks inside, but you notice his hesitation and nudge his shoulder. “I’m sure that the cut on your eyebrow needs to be looked out. Let’s go sit, okay?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah, sure. Totally. Let’s go sit in a room full of people who probably hate me. No biggie.”

“Either come or don’t.” You shrug. “But the way I see it, you can start mending some metaphorical wounds while you wait in there.”

You don’t wait for Steve to figure out what to do, you know that Dustin is somewhere inside the waiting room and you’re buzzing to see him and the rest of the kids. You hobble inside, still very much in pain due to your injuries, but the moment you see your brother it all fades away. 

He runs into your arms and almost knocks you down with the force. Dustin clings onto you, mumbling over and over again how sorry he is. 

“Hey, wait a second,” you pull him away and crouch down, groaning a bit at the pain. “What are you sorry about? What happened?”

You look around the room and see everyone there. Nancy, Hopper, the kids, Steve, even Nancy’s parents, but there’s someone missing…

“El,” you breathe out. 

Dustin’s lip trembles and he begins to cry. You soothe him, grabbing his hand to bring him over to the seats and sit between him and Mike. Lucas is to the left of Dustin and you can’t help but notice how all the boys have dried tears in their eyes. 

When they’re ready, you have the kids explain what happened, and the more they tell you, the more guilty you feel. You should’ve been there for them, you left them all alone with that monster. You got Will back, and yet you’ve lost El as a result. It seems that no matter what you do, it’ll never quite be enough in the end. 

“It’s not your fault.” You tell Dustin, who still keeps apologizing. It was you who had left him in charge, you’re why El ended up vanquished by the monster. “You did everything you could. I shouldn’t have left you guys all alone, but I’m proud that you all took care of one another, okay?”

He sniffs and nods his head, but you know he doesn’t believe you. All the boys are somber; you know it’ll take time for them to recover. So, you do what you do best, you console them. You hold their hands and rub their backs and offer your spare comics in your bag. You do whatever you can to comfort them, to reassure them that they’re safe now and that no one will hurt them, but the light in their eyes has dimmed. 

They’ll never be the same again. 

And El… she had been so young, you don’t think you’ll ever not feel the heavy weight of guilt whenever you think of her. She had been so sweet and had trusted you. 

You should’ve been there, you wish you could’ve saved her.

Steve watches from his seat across from you. He listens in as you comfort the boys, taking care of them in such a natural way. He admires this softer side of you, one he hasn’t quite seen before. Sure, you’ve always been gentle and sincere, but watching you with the kids is something special in itself. You manage to get them to laugh, you offer them your shoulder to cry or sleep on, and you read aloud to them stories from your comics and Steve finds himself drawn towards your interactions with the kids. 

It’s sweet, something delicate and lovely, and Steve admires everything that you are. When he sees you awkwardly stand up and stumble over to the vending machines in the hall, Steve finds himself following after you. 

-

“Bitch!” You slam the palm of your hand against the vending machine in vain. The bag of chips hangs by the little spiral, taunting you. 

“That’s not a very nice word, Henderson.” 

You turn and see Steve, leaning against the wall with a fond expression. “You stalking me?”

“Nah, just wanted to watch you fight against a vending machine.”

“Ha,” you snort, turning back to the machine. “Unless you can help me get this last chip bag, you’re free to go sit back down.”

You mean it to be a joke, not expecting Steve to actually listen, but he’s at your side within a second. “Step back, let Steve handle her.” 

“What–”

Steve motions for you to move, so you reluctantly do as you’re told. Once you’re out of the way, Steve claps his hands, stretches out his neck, and then begins to aggressively shake the vending machine. 

“That is so not what you’re supposed to do–”

Suddenly the bag drops down from the hook and into the retrieval slot. Steve reaches inside, grabs the bag, and then dangles it in the air. “Tada!” 

You laugh and grab the bag from him. “Okay, I’ll admit, that was impressive.” 

“What can I say? I’m charming like that.” 

“Sure,” you smile at him, neither of you have moved yet. He’s still standing in front of you with that cocky smile on his face that’s slowly started to warm on you. You truly do understand why so many girls have fallen for him. If you ever saw Steve on the street, a stranger passing by, you’d fall a little bit in love with him yourself.

The thought startles you. “Well, uh…”

“Yes?” Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling. 

“Thank you for the chips. The kids haven’t eaten anything in hours, so…” You wave the three bags in your arms. “Gotta keep 'em fed.”

“Wait a second, there’s only three bags there. Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“I only had enough money for the boy’s chips.” You say, feeling suddenly sheepish. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just eat a few pieces from them and wait until we get home.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, no.”

You frown at him, confused as he rustles through his jean pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I don’t want your money–”

He doesn’t listen and simply puts the cash into the vending machine and punches in a few numbers. Slowly, one by one, multiple different bags of sweets and chips come falling down within the machine. Once the last one has dropped, Steve bends down and offers the huge stash to you. 

“A feast, on me.” He winks at you and you can’t help but blush. 

“T–thanks, I guess.” You now carefully balance the rest of the snacks in your arms, the mound almost blocking your view. You’re not sure how much Steve just paid, but with all these snacks you and the kids will surely be well fed. 

Steve shrugs, and if you weren’t so tired you’d think the blush on his face was a real one. “It’s the least I can do, all things considered.”

His words give you pause. You know he’s referencing earlier today, back in the alley where fists slammed against skin and he had dragged you away from your best friend, but the memory feels like years ago. So much has happened since then, Steve has saved your life since then. 

“Steve…” Your ankle is starting to sting again from standing for so long, so you adjust your footing and try to figure out what you want to say. “I never got to thank you back at Jonathan’s.”

“Thank me?” His face scrunches in confusion in a sickeningly cute way that it almost distracts you.

“Yes. You saved my life tonight, Steve. I won’t ever forget that.” 

“Oh…There’s no need to thank me. I mean, what are friends for?” Steve freezes and clears his throat. “I mean, shit. We aren’t friends, you keep saying that. Sorry. You know what I mean.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends?

“Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused. 

“Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!”

“We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted.

Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

Steve starts moving around in what you can only guess is a happy dance. “Sweet! Does this mean I get a cool nickname, too?”

“A nickname?” A bag of chips threatens to fall from your arms, but Steve catches it before it can land on the ground and takes a few more snacks off of your hands. 

He readjusts the snacks he now has so that he can carry them easier. “Yeah, I mean. Byers has one, why can’t I?”

You don’t think you’ll ever stop feeling so thrown every time Steve mentions a small detail about you that he’s somehow come to notice. He has a habit of doing that, surprising you by how much he seems to pay attention to you. You thought that no one ever had before, but Steve continues to prove you wrong. 

“I’ll tell ya what,” you begin to walk back towards the waiting room, careful to step carefully to not drop anything or upset your ankle. “Let’s see how this ‘friends’ thing works out, then I’ll decide what nickname fits you best. Deal?”

Steve thinks for a moment and follows. “Hmm. I don’t know, I think I’ll need some type of precaution to make sure you give me a nickname in the end. I want one, Y/N. I’m so serious right now.”

You laugh at his pleading tone. “I can add you to my baking list. Whatever I bake, you’ll get a piece of it. Is that better?”

“God, yes!” Steve punches the air and cheers. 

You’re smiling so much that your face aches. You haven’t felt this light and carefree in so long, you’d almost forgotten what it’s like. The two of you don’t say anything else as you walk back to the waiting room, though Steve seems to slow down so that you don’t hurt your ankle keeping up, though you still let out a few winces and groans.

When you’ve arrived back at your seat, Steve sets down the snacks and runs off without another word. You’re confused by his sudden departure but don’t think much of it. Instead, you wake the boys up and show them your array of snacks, which wakes them up immediately. 

You’re mediating a fight between Mike and Lucas over who gets the bag of Chips Ahoy when a nurse interrupts. “Excuse me, ma’am. This young man over here told me I should come over and check out your ankle?”

The woman smiles and you look past her and see Steve sheepishly waving from his seat across from you. You’re stunned. Had he really gone out of his way to ensure your ankle gets treated?

You shake the thoughts out of your head and inform the woman all she needs to know. You tell her how you’d fallen and what type of pain you feel when you stand up. She inspects the ankle, her fingers cold but kind, and within a few minutes has diagnosed you with a sprained ankle. 

“All you can really do is stay off of it for a few weeks while it heals. I can go and get you some crutches, if you’d like?” She asks, rolling her gloves off and tucking them back into her pocket.

You nod. “If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great.”

The nurse leaves with the promise of being back soon. In the meantime she instructs you to keep your ankle elevated, so you prop it against the coffee table and wait. You’re annoyed that you even have to have crutches, but then you think of Barb, of El. You’re luckier than you should be. 

– 

After an hour or so, Jonathan opens the door to the waiting room. He spots you and Mike talking softly with each other and whistles over to catch your attention. When Mike looks up, Jonathan nods at him and the boy scrambles out of his seat. 

“Guys! Guys! He’s up, Will is up!” Mike shakes awake Lucas and Dustin, who had been cuddling on the seats fast asleep. “Will’s up!”

Once they’re awake, they quickly follow after Mike and the three boys are gone in an instant, sprinting down the hall towards Will’s room. Clearly they’re eager to see their friend. 

You do your best to get up as fast as possible, but your new crutches serve more as a nuisance rather than an aid. As you struggle to get up, somehow knocking over the mountain of snacks, Steve rushes over. 

He grabs the crutches and offers you his hand. “Here, careful.”

“Thanks,” you awkwardly accept his hand and get up. Jonathan watches from the doorway, a curious look on his face. Nancy does the same from her seat, not saying a word as she watches Steve gently help you navigate the waiting room with your injury. 

Jonathan holds the door open for you and takes over once you’re out the door. He grabs the crutches from Steve and is now the one to hold your hand, balancing you. “I can take it from here, Harrington.”

“Right, yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his head and coughs. “I’ll just… yeah.” 

He heads back inside and you and Jonathan watch as he leaves. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jonathan turns to you. “Are you two friends now or something?”

“We almost died tonight, bee. I think it’s safe to call Steve a friend now.”

Jonathan bites his lip, though there’s a far off look in his eye that leaves you feeling like you’ve missed something in the conversation. “Guess that’s true. Anyways, let’s get you to Will.”

By the time you make it to the room, the boys have swarmed around Will and are telling him everything he’s missed this week. He’s listening eagerly as they’re telling him about El, but when he sees you enter the room, his eyes light up and he tries to sit up. 

“Y/N!” Will calls out, pure excitement in his voice. 

You practically fall over in your haste to get to him. The second you’re close enough, you collapse onto his bed and give him the tightest hug you possibly can without hurting him. He feels so small against you, smaller than he’s ever felt before, and his sunken eyes and pale skin make you want to cry. 

But he’s alive and here and in your arms once again, happy and wonderful and safe. 

“Little bee,” you try not to cry, but tears are thick in your voice. “I missed you.”

Will manages a weak smile and shrugs, trying to play off the gravity of the situation. “Took a little detour home.” 

You laugh and ruffle his hair. “At least you came home, that’s all that matters.”

“Ahem,” Mike obnoxiously clears his throat, effectively ending your moment with Will. “You’re hogging Will, move over.” 

You laugh again and move away, allowing the boys to resume their millions of updates. You maneuver your crutches and walk over to Jonathan, who is standing by the door. He’s looking at the boys and Will with a soft smile on his face and you join him, standing side by side as you watch your boys finally come together again. 

Then, you feel a pair of eyes on you and you turn around. Nancy is leaning against the doorway behind you; she looks frail and distraught. There’s a sadness in her eyes as she watches the kids. You know that watching the boys reunite with their friend must remind her of Barb. She never got her happy reunion. 

You feel awful for the girl, so when her bittersweet smile drops and she turns to leave the room, you nudge Jonathan to make him aware of the situation. He sees her fleeing and begins to follow after her, but he stops. 

“What are you waiting for? Go.” You tell him, knowing it’s for the best. 

He shifts his weight, uncertain. “Are you sure?”

You’re not sure how to decipher the hidden meanings underneath those three words, but you find that you’re exhausted trying to keep reading between the lines. The feelings you’ve kept buried bubble to the surface, but you remind yourself that he loves Nancy, despite your weird moments of almost with him. There’s something there between you and Jonathan, you both can feel it, but it feels too raw and fragile to bring into the light. 

Without having to ask, you know that Jonathan will choose her. 

It breaks your heart, but you look over at Dustin and Will, who are laughing about some joke while Joyce gazes at them fondly, and you know that you can’t lose this. Maybe Jonathan knows this, too. The small family you’ve built together, it’s too precious to ruin. 

Joyce and your boys, you can’t lose them. They’re yours, and Jonathan is yours in a way that you can’t quite keep to yourself forever, but for now it’s enough. You approach Joyce, grab her hand and give her a tired smile, and the smile she returns to you reminds you that this is more than enough for you. 

You turn to Jonathan, pushing down your feelings once more in favor of appreciating the fact that Will is looking at you again, alive. “Go, bee.” 

Jonathan gives you one last look. You study his face for a moment, watching as it shifts from confusion, to hurt, then finally into acceptance. You’ll never be sure of what exactly he’d been thinking in that moment, but it seemed to have been enough for him, too.

He smiles, lets out a deep breath, and then leaves.

The door closes softly behind him. 

– 

A month later you find yourself in the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, tired from your shift at Bookstrordinary but excited to pick up your brothers. Somehow, even after missing three consecutive shifts last month, Mrs. Waters refused to fire you. 

But Jonathan? He hadn’t been so lucky. His boss fired him from the Hawk, but he hadn’t been too upset. He still drives you to and from work, so you suppose things could be worse. 

It’s late, but the two of you take your time driving to the Wheeler’s. Nothing much has changed between you two following Will’s reappearance. Sure, maybe you’re at his house more just to make sure Will is adapting well, but besides that everything seemed to go back to normal. 

Well, almost normal. 

Steve appeared at your job a few days after your conversation in the hospital. He had surprised you when you walked in, and when you asked what he was doing in a bookstore, Steve simply shrugged and said, “You can’t figure out my nickname if we don’t hang out, right? So, I’m here.”

He had become a regular at the store, stopping by whenever he could, and slowly the two of you became good friends. You’ve come to enjoy Steve’s presence, something that you never thought would ever happen. But he keeps you company as you work, he wanders around and explores the comics and books you recommend to him, and it’s nice having someone to goof off with. 

Plus, you did promise to add him to your baking list, so he’s also become your taste tester who happily eats any creation you bring in for him.

As for Nancy…

That was more of a sore subject for Jonathan. 

There was a few weeks following Will’s reappearance that you thought Jonathan and Nancy would get together, but it never happened. You’re not quite sure why, maybe it had something to do with Jonathan’s hesitation of approaching her, but it had crushed him when you and he saw Nancy and Steve making out in the hall as if nothing bad had ever happened. 

The way Jonathan’s face crumbled when he saw the couple only solidified that he’d never be yours, but you comforted him anyways. You told him he deserved better and then dragged him away. It’d taken him a few days, but eventually Jonathan was able to fake a smile again. 

You haven’t spoken about it since that day, but you leave your window open most nights for him to crawl in. The nightmares from that night fighting the monster plague you both, and the loneliness feels a little heavier than usual, but at least you have each other. 

“Jonathan! Y/N! Come in, the boys are downstairs.” Mrs. Wheeler answers the door, letting the two of you in. “And Y/N, I love that sweater on you.”

You thank the woman. “It was a gift from my mom. She claims I need to up my wardrobe, whatever that means.”

“Well, I think she has lovely taste.” 

“I’ll let you know you think so!” You open the basement door and motion for Jonathan to go down first. 

When he reaches the bottom of the steps, Jonathan makes a face. “Woah, what’s that smell? Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?”

“My vote is farting.” You say, hopping down the last step. Your ankle has mostly healed by now, but sometimes if you land on it wrong it makes a weird clicking noise followed by some pain, but you choose to pretend that it’s normal. 

The boys laugh and Lucas points at your brother. “Oh, that’s just Dustin. He farted.”

He begins making fart noises with his mouth and you and Dustin share a look. “Very mature, Lucas.”

The boy continues to sing and make fart noises and you can’t believe that this is your life. You’re standing in a smelly basement while picking up your stubborn brother all while simultaneously enjoying the fact that you get to call this your life. 

Jonathan calls over to Will to grab his things, so you follow suit and gently berate Lucas. “Alright, that’s enough. I gotta get Dustin home.”

“What, I thought I got to stay–”

“Jonathan is our ride and I made cookies, so let’s go.”

The moment the word “cookies” leaves your mouth, Dustin hops up and collects his things without any further argument. 

Once he’s ready, he and Lucas play wrestle as they say goodbye. While they’re distracted, you walk over to Mike and discreetly hand him a container full of double fudge brownies. You’d specifically made them for him, knowing they were his favorite, because you noticed how hard it’s been for him to adjust to El being gone. He really cared about her, anyone could see that. 

Mike’s eyes widen and he throws his arms around you. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You pat his back. “Anytime, Wheeler.”

Dustin breaks away from Lucas and runs up the stairs, so you take that as your cue to leave. 

Upstairs, Jonathan and Will are talking to Mrs. Wheeler. When they see you enter, the woman turns to you and asks if you’ll be bringing over your usual round of holiday treats. “Of course, I’ll get started on them tomorrow. You guys still like the sugarbread cookies?”

“If you make them, I think I’ll die of happiness.” Mrs. Wheeler informs you, and you laugh and tell her that you’ll have them ready as soon as possible. 

You bid her goodbye, Dustin now by your side, and you follow Jonathan and Will to the front door. Right before you open the door, Nancy calls Jonathan’s name from the top of the stairs. 

“Hey, Jonathan, wait up!” 

You, Dustin, and Will stand awkwardly in the back while Nancy hands Jonathan a wrapped gift and wishes him a merry Christmas. They share an awkward exchange since Jonathan hadn’t gotten her anything, but Nancy assures him that it’s fine. The interaction is painful to watch as Nancy doesn’t spare you a single glance. Dustin and Will look at you uncertainly when she kisses Jonathan’s cheek, but you ignore them and pretend to be interested in a Christmas decoration on the table.

This will never get any easier. 

“You ready?” Jonathan turns back to you guys, a blush on his face, and all you can do is silently nod. 

In the car you sit in the back with Dustin, who squeezes your arm in reassurance. He’s come to understand your complex feelings for Jonathan and has pieced together Nancy’s involvement. While he’s never outright consoled you, he’s shown his support in other small and wonderful ways. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, and Dustin smiles. 

“We all buckled up?” Jonathan asks as he starts up the car. 

“Yes, captain.” You mock salute. 

Will giggles at you before he sees the gift and looks up at Jonathan. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

You and Dustin lean forward so you can see what’s in the box. When Will unwraps a beautiful, and no doubt expensive, camera, you gasp. The bitterness and hurt from moments ago vanishes. This gift is from Steve, you know it is, and something warm settles deep within your bones. 

You think about last month, how you’d told him not everyone can just afford a camera. 

Seems like Steve listened. 

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all. 

– 

A week later you knock on the Byers’ door, a giant container of your annual holiday cookies in your arms. 

“Bug!” Jonathan answers the door with an excited smile on his face. His new camera is in his hands and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already taken a photo of you with your crooked earmuffs and oversized box of cookies.

He’s been using the camera ever since he got it. There’s now multiple pictures of you, always unaware or caught off guard, now hanging in the kitchen. It makes you blush to think about. 

“You didn’t even give me a chance to smile.” You complain, shoving your way inside. It’s snowing and you’re freezing. 

Joyce grabs the container to help you as soon as she sees you. “Here, honey. I’ve got it.”

You thank her and walk over to Will, who is drawing at the kitchen table. “Hey little bee. Whatcha drawing?”

“Hi, Y/N.” He slides over his picture and you’re shown a quick sketch of you and the party, this time fighting what appears to be a misshapen dog. “It’s a Dire Wolf, we’re fighting it in our latest campaign.”

“Ah, I see. Looks fluffy, though. Can’t possibly be a dangerous creature.”

Will rolls his eyes at you. “This is why you don’t play with us.”

“Careful, you’re sassing the girl who has just bravely ridden her bike through the snow to deliver her famous Christmas cookies.”

Will is out of his seat in an instant, running over to his mom, who has just placed the container on the counter. “Did you make the oatmeal raisin cookies?”

“Duh,” you snort. 

“And the chocolate chip?”

“I sure did.” You stand next to him and point at a new cookie you’re trying out this year. “This batch is a caramel banana one. Steve seemed to like it and I think it’s pretty good, so I hope you do too.”

Jonathan swoops over and kisses your head. “Of course we’ll like it, bug.”

“He’s right, you know. We always love whatever you make us, honey.” Joyce informs you, her mouth now full of cookies. 

“I’d hope so, this is like my fifth year making these for you guys. It’d be awkward if you hated my baking.” You say, now securing your earmuffs back on your head. “Anyways, I should get going. It’s Christmas, my mom won’t want me out too long.” 

Joyce looks out the window and frowns. “Did you really bike here in this weather?”

“It wasn’t too bad, I’ll be fine–”

“No. Jonathan, grab your keys and drive Y/N home.” She stares you down, daring you to argue with her, but you don’t. You know better than to argue with Joyce Byers. 

Once Jonathan has his keys, you say goodbye to everyone and wish them a merry Christmas. Jonathan throws your bike in his trunk and soon you’re off on the road. The drive is quiet but cozy. The snowflakes fall in a pretty spiral and there’s a soft song playing on the radio. 

Sometimes, if you close your eyes, you can pretend that the events from last month never happened. Will never disappeared. You never discovered that you love Jonathan. Nancy Wheeler never became friends with Jonathan, possibly something more had there been more time. When you close your eyes and sit still, you can imagine that your brother never has nightmares that wake him up screaming. That your heart doesn’t hurt when you make your best friend laugh. 

For a moment, you can forget. 

“Can we always stay like this?” You ask Jonathan softly, almost as if you’ll disturb the peace that winter has brought with its quiet snow. 

“Like what?”

You’re not sure how to express what you’re feeling. “This, us. Together.”

“Of course we’ll always stay like this.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. He says this like it’s a fact, the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Pinky promise me.” You hold your pinky up. You know it’s silly, but you need him to hear you, to understand what you’re saying.

Jonathan looks over at you. “Y/N–”

“Please, promise me, bee.”

He’s silent for a moment, seeming to understand the weight of everything between, around, and within the two of you. Then, he extends his pinky finger and wraps it around yours. “I promise, bug.” 

And you believe him.

[END OF SEASON 1]

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