#glances around. are you okay now. did you stop hiccuping.

[plutonious]

experimentation is forever and ever and emmet is guinea pig

[stevie-petey]

episode eight: papa

“We’re felons.” Your eyes are squeezed shut as you rub your stomach, nauseous. “I can’t believe we just stole that poor couple’s home.” “Think Spidey would understand?” Steve spares you a glance as he drives. “Don’t ever evoke his name while committing a felony.”

Summary: steve is on the brink of a constant nervous breakdown, eddie questions your taste in music, you and max go halfsies on your lives, angry hicks are scary, and the end of the world is near so of course now is the time for every emotional conversation ever. duh !

Rating: general, some swearing, violence

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, weapons, talk of death, lowkey suicidal thoughts but barely ??

Words: 15.9k

Before you swing in: hey gang !!! this chapter is a goddamn monster. it took forever to write for a million reasons, but the payoff is worth it in my biased opinion. we get a LOT of conversations in this chapter, all that have been brewing for seasons !!!!! the narrative is narrativing !!! we only have one more chapter, so sit back, relax, n enjoy :)

–

When Steve was a little kid, he would have nightmares about losing his parents. 

They started when he was seven. In the first dream, his mother had been in the car. She was driving away from him, beckoning him to follow, but Steve’s scrawny legs couldn’t keep up; he hadn’t reached her in time. 

He remembers waking up screaming for her. The terror of abandonment was heavy within his chest. It stifled his breathing. He remembers thinking that he was going to die. 

May Harrington rushed into her son’s room upon hearing his screams. She clutched him to her chest, smoothed down his wild hair. Steve had been too upset to explain the dream to her, then. His body simply melted into her embrace, relieved that she had still been there with him. That she hadn’t really left him. 

The dreams continued after that night. 

One time he had dreamt that his father locked him in the closet and told him that no one would ever see him again. Another night, Steve dreamt that his mother no longer loved him. That his love for her hadn’t been enough to convince her to stay. 

The dreams came sporadically. Sometimes Steve would go weeks without one. Other times, he would have one every night for a month. 

His father detested the dreams. He loathed what they did to his son. Not because of the fear that plagued Steve’s now pale skin, but because of how weak they made him. Richard Harrington would grip Steve’s arm tightly and command him to stop crying. The grip would leave bruises alongside his tear stained face. 

When Steve was nine, now too old to be having such vivid nightmares, his mother rocked him back and forth in her arms after a particularly difficult nightmare. Steve’s hiccupping breath echoed his tightening grip on the woman. 

“Oh, my beautiful boy. You’ll never lose me.” May stroked his back, her soothing voice floated around Steve. 

Steve clutched his mother even tighter. “But what if I do?”

May coaxed his head from her neck. She looked at him with such tenderness, such love. Her fingers grazed Steve’s face gently as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. She hummed, her voice lovely as always. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

“What secret, momma?” 

Steve will never forget the way his mother smiled at him. “When you love someone, you can never really lose them.”

And the secret settled a deep ache of uncertainty within her son. He loved hard and fast from then on. If Steve loved everyone he ever met, then he couldn’t lose them.

But then Steve was seventeen and he lost Nancy Wheeler.

Now Steve is nineteen and he’s about to lose you. 

One minute Nancy had been climbing up the rope. Your arms brushed Steve’s and your warmth reassured him that everything was going to be okay. You’d made it out. You were going to escape from the Upside Down and hold one another as soon as this was all over.

Until Nancy’s grip on the rope loosened and she fell. Steve barely had time to catch her before her dead weight landed upon him. Managing to stand her up, Steve finally realized what was happening. Her skin was pale and her body stiff.

She had gone into a vision. 

That’s when Steve turned to you. 

His entire world collapsed after that. You were frozen as well, as stiff as Nancy. The veins in your neck were pulled taunt. Steve thinks he screamed. 

And now he’s alone. You and Nancy have been taken from him. He can’t break you from whatever spell Vecna has the two of you under. 

“Y/N!” 

Steve doesn’t recognize his own voice. He can’t feel his body. He can’t feel yours beneath his hands as he desperately shakes you. Everything is numb from the fear that paralyzes him. 

The whites of your eyes blind him. Steve doesn’t know when they rolled back. 

“Steve, what’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice cuts through the ringing in his ears. Every nerve in your brother’s body is on edge. Something isn’t right. You’re too still. 

“He’s-he’s got them!” Steve can’t bring himself to let go of you. He just wants to see the color in your eyes again. He wants you to wake up and laugh at him and call him stupid names and remind him that he’s yours. 

Above Steve he can hear screaming. Everyone starts shouting at one another, running around in a panic. No one knows what to do.

“Stay with me, angel.” Steve cradles your head. “Please.”

He can’t lose you. Steve wouldn’t survive a world without you in it. All the warmth and love within the world would leave the second you took your last breath. 

A body lands beside yours, tearing you out of Steve’s grasp. Seeing red, he turns, fists clenched and ready to throw a punch, but he only finds Dustin. The kid’s eyes are shell shocked, a manic look in them as he shakes his sister. 

“Do you have her walkman?” 

Steve almost can’t hear him over the pounding of his heart. “W-what?”

“Y/N’s walkman!” Dustin exclaims, rifting through your pockets. His hands are shaking and he can’t form any other thought besides finding the goddamn walkman. He knows you have it. He made sure that you wouldn’t go anywhere without it. “Steve, where is it?”

“I-I don’t know!” He can’t breathe. He’s too paralyzed by the idea of losing you forever. Then he remembers Nancy and it’s all too much. He can’t lose her either. She’s a part of him in a way that Steve will never be able to explain. “What about Nancy? What the hell do we do?”

“We need to find the fucking walkman.” When Dustin’s fingers feel plastic in your pocket, hope jumps in his throat. Letting out a breath, he pulls it out and quickly gets to work on unwrapping all the plastic that encases it. Only the wrapping is too thick, Dustin wants to scream. “Help me get this shit off!”

Steve yanks the device out of the boy’s grasp and claws at the mess of plastic and knots. Dustin had made sure to secure it when he left you at Lover’s Lake. While it kept the walkman bone dry, you’re now paying the price. It’s almost impossible to tear off. 

“Fuck!” Steve tries to bite through it, but it’s no use. 

“Give me it.” Dustin snatches the walkman back, now holding your knives. He starts cutting through the plastic quickly, but he notices Nancy start to convulse next to you. Panicking, Dustin shouts at Steve, “Help her!”

“But what about Y/N–”

“Now isn’t the goddamn time to argue!” Dustin screeches. He’s almost finished cutting through all the plastic. “I have Y/N. Focus on Nancy!”

It’s what you would want. Steve and Dustin both know this. And as much as it physically pains Steve to let go of you, he knows that you’d never forgive him if he allowed Nancy to die. 

Stumbling over his feet, he grabs her shoulders. Her body is as cold as yours. Her own whites of her eyes taunt Steve. Shaking Nancy, he screams up to the others, “Whatever you guys are doing, hurry up!”

“I got it!” Dustin holds up the now freed walkman, cheering. He can save you. He will save you. All he has to do now is put the headphones over your ears and play the music you love and his sister will be okay.

But then your body starts to convulse. The sight is gruesome. Your fingers bend sideways, your neck snaps back, and your chest collapses into itself. Terrified, Dustin screams your name over and over again. 

Hearing the boy’s pained cries, Steve tears himself away from Nancy. When he sees your body shaking violently, bile and fury rise to his throat. “No.”

He’ll be damned if you die tonight. Steve grabs the walkman from Dustin and opens it. Inside, there’s only one tape. 

For bug.

“Henderson, look at me.” There’s a list of songs messily scrawled on it. Steve shoves the cassette in Dustin’s face, forcing him to read the tracks on it. “Which one is her favorite?” 

Dustin struggles to catch his breath. He forces his vision to sharpen, the words float around in his head. They’re all songs he doesn’t know. None of them would work, none of them except–

“The Beatles!” Dustin is already queuing the song, fingers shaking. They’re your favorite band. When you were younger, your father would softly play their songs on his guitar every Sunday morning. Dustin was never able to remember the lyrics, but you always did.

Steve shoves the headphones on you. Dustin presses play.

That’s when your body lifts. 

– 

Music. 

There is music. A familiar guitar progression. Someone used to strum their fingers to produce the same chords. Their rough timbre would accompany the strings and the sweet smell of pine and grass would lull you. 

There are places I remember all my life, though some have changed. 

Green. Over a hill there is a house. Floorboards creak beneath your feet and there is a yellow couch pressed against the window, overlooking the flowers in the garden. Somewhere there is laughter. You’re a little girl chasing your younger brother around the tree, giggling.

Some forever, not for better. Some have gone and remain.

A moving van. The boxes you spent hours packing are shoved into the vehicle roughly. A long drive. A small town, smaller than the one you ran away from. There is a new house with a yellow door to match the couch your mother got to keep. Across the street a boy with black hair is riding his bike. Your brother follows him. 

Night falls and you’re standing on someone’s porch. There’s a boy your age and his hair falls into his eyes. Words are exchanged. He tells you his name is Jonathan. Your hand touches his and suddenly the world doesn’t feel so lonely anymore. The front door opens. A girl tells you your brother is inside with hers. She’s shy, small and beautiful, but her eyes are cunning. 

All these places had their moments. With lovers and friends, I still can recall.

A smaller house owned by a woman who radiates warmth and love for you. Her sons and their adoration. Bug and bee and childhood nicknames. Sleepless nights filled with hushed laughter. Whispered I love you’s. The smell of fresh baked cookies and the sound of four boys who all view you as their sister. 

There’s a boy with pretty brown eyes and pink lips. Hands wrap around your waist as he saves you. Over and over again he saves you. He begs you for a nickname. His smile fills your lungs and you’re falling. Angel. He calls you angel. 

A girl with fiery red hair and a girl who prefers your touch over words. They giggle together. You dress them in your old clothes. Ice cream melts against your tongues and the summer heat kisses your cheeks. There’s another girl. She’s older. You're in a bathroom stall together and she laughs at all your jokes and calls you pretty girl.

Some are dead and some are living. In my life, I’ve loved them all.

An old man wearing a police hat. He reminds you of your father. Gruff and bitter but he lets you tease him. A cabin in the woods and the waffles he always made for you. A home he has made for you and his daughter. 

There are cold, blue eyes. The boy is your age but the anger within him resembles your father’s. He’s violent. Alone. He’s all alone. Blood drips from his body and you hear a girl scream his name. Billy. 

Your mother cradles your face as you cry. She tells you she’s sorry. Your brother tells you he misses who you used to be. The kindness that you burned to spite your father. 

Soft lips kiss your stained hands. The mouth whispers reassurances. He tells you he loves you. Late night drives. Kissing underneath the stars. Constants and honey and forgiveness. 

A charm bracelet. Building a fort in the rain. Biking to houses with a band of kids in tow. Singing songs in a field. Bickering and loyalty and friendship that leaves you in awe. 

Though I know I’ll never lose affection for people and things that went before.

Memories float through you, into you, around you. 

And you remember. 

I know I’ll often stop and think about them.

You remember everything. 

“Y/N!” 

Steve’s voice pulls you back to where you belong. He’s pleading. Dustin’s screams cut through the noise in your head. Everything is muffled. You can’t move. Why can’t you move? They’re screaming for you and you can’t get to them. 

In my life, I love you more.

But you love them. With everything within you, you love them. There is a blinding light of molten warmth of love in your rib cage. They put it there. It melts your bones. They need you. All this love within you is theirs, so why can’t you move?

“Y/N, angel, stay with me.”

You want it more than anything. You want to stay. You want to live. You can’t leave them behind. Any of them. Steve and Dustin and Jonathan and Robin and Nancy and Max and–

Pain erupts in your ankle as your body lands harshly on the ground. It shocks your system, causing your eyes to fly open. 

Steve is cradling you in his arms. He holds onto you desperately and he’s crying. Sharp inhales expand your lungs as sobs choke your breath. Your skin slides against Steve’s and he’s warm and rough and littered with scars and you aren’t sure if any of this is real.

But Steve is holding you. If this is some sick, twisted vision, then at least you’ll die in his arms. Your death will have been worth something if Steve’s face is the last thing you see. Yet when you look into his eyes, the fear and desperation within them is real. The tears are real. The agony and love is real. 

He’s real.

“Y/N! Angel, oh my God.” Steve’s hands grip your face. He’s ashen and music still plays. His pleas are muffled by it, you can barely make out what he’s saying. He risks looking away from you for a second. “Dustin! She-she’s awake!”

Within seconds your brother falls to his knees and presses his face to your stomach. He’s crying. The hot tears burn your bloodied skin but your weak hands still find him anyways. You hold Dustin tightly, selfishly. When you try to bury your face in Steve’s shoulder, something solid knocks against your head.

“Keep your headphones on.” Steve blocks your hand from taking them off. He isn’t letting you take them off ever again.

Headphones. The music playing, the memories that guided you home. Steve had saved you with your walkman. The realization causes you to jerk in his arms. You’re alive. This is real. Vecna almost killed you. You escaped.

Then where is Nancy?

“Nancy–” You try to get up, but Steve and Dustin hold you down. Panic swells in your chest. Nancy was with you. Vecna brought the two of you into his world, yet only one of you made it out. “Where is she? Is she–?”

Steve’s eyes betray him, revealing to you where Nancy is. She stands across from you, catatonic, and suddenly all the fear is back again. Tearing out of Dustin’s and Steve’s grasps, you run towards her. 

“Nancy!” You shake her viciously. She has to wake up. It can’t just be you who gets to live. You won’t let him win. Not like this. Above you, you see Max and Lucas running around. Eddie’s trailer is a wreck. They’re searching for something. “What are they looking for?”

Dustin tugs Nancy’s arm. “Music for her. It’s our only option.”

“Music.” you mumble, the song from your childhood still playing through your headphones. Nancy needs music. It’s the only way to get through to someone under Vecna’s curse. It’s what saved you. 

A song from your childhood brought you back to the ones you love. With Nancy’s life on the line, the song has to bring her back to you, too.

Ripping your headphones off, you shove them onto Nancy’s head. Steve and Dustin scream at you to put them back on. Your body had been floating not even a minute ago, but you don’t care. Ignoring their protests, your fingers fumble trying to find any possible song on the mixtape that can save her. 

“Please,” fresh tears fall onto the walkman. You can’t lose Nancy. Your relationship may be strained and complicated and tainted by a history neither one of you created yourselves, but she’s your dearest admiration. The world would be dim without her spark. You’ve lost so many people in your life. Pressing your forehead to Nancy’s, you breathe out, “Not you. I can’t lose you, too.”

A strangled gasp escapes Nancy’s mouth. The sound startles you, barely giving you or Steve enough warning to catch her as she falls. 

“You’re okay,” you brush her hair out of her face. Nancy’s chest rises and falls quickly. She’s hyperventilating, in a deep state of panic, and you hold her face delicately. She’s like a frightened deer, you’re afraid you’ll speak too loud and scare her away. “You’re okay, it’s okay.”

Steve is careful not to move her in his arms. “Breathe, Nancy. We’re right here.”

The words are meant to be calming. Your hands on Nancy’s face are meant to make her feel safe, loved. But she stares up at you and Steve with tears in her eyes and despair etched into her skin. 

Nancy begins to cry even harder and you don’t know what to do. “I need you to breathe–”

“The-the music.” She tries to sit up, but Steve won’t let her. Arms weak, she struggles against him. She looks at you frantically, trying to tear the headphones off of her. “You-you need them. He almost-he almost got you. The things he showed me, they were–”

Nancy sobs again, barely able to look at you out of guilt.

She remembers what she saw in your vision. 

The knowledge of this is ice cold against your skin, but there’s something else in Nancy’s reaction that unnerves you. This isn’t just about her now knowing your insecurities regarding her. This is something deeper. Bigger than any estranged relationship.

Vecna made her see something else.

Swallowing deeply, you level your eyes to hers. “Tell me everything, Nancy.”

And she does.

– 

Max’s trailer is all you have left. The cops swarmed Nancy’s house the second Patrick’s body was found. Your home is barricaded off from the public. They’re looking for Dustin, for you, and you don’t want to imagine how distraight your mother must be right now.

For lack of better words, it’s fucking depressing sitting in Max’s trailer surrounded by everyone. Exhaustion ghosts their faces. 

Lucas can’t seem to look away from you, the exhaustion of fear dulling his skin. Max taps her fingers anxiously. She hasn’t left your side since you’ve returned. Eddie nods at you, solemn. Erica, who arrived after the cops interrogated her, gives you a pitying look. 

Robin and Dustin hover you as if afraid you’ll disappear. Steve sits on the couch and presses his legs against your back as you sit on the floor; he needs to feel the heat of your body at all times. A reminder to him that you’re still alive. 

Nancy stands across from everyone. She insisted on doing this herself, that you didn’t need to be standing with her. While she’s always been stubborn and brave, you know she only does this because of the guilt. 

“He showed me things that haven’t happened yet,” Nancy rasps. Her eyes remain on the floor. She can’t look at anyone while she describes all the wreckage she saw. Downtown Hawkins on fire. Dead soldiers littering the streets.  

“And this giant creature, with a gaping mouth. It wasn’t-it wasn’t alone.” Nancy bites the inside of her cheek. She can’t afford to be afraid now. “There were so many monsters. An army. And they… they were coming into Hawkins. Into our neighborhoods. Our homes.”

Your nails dig into your palms. The sting quells the fear that rises within you. The more Nancy describes, more fury replaces your nausea. Hawkins is your home. There are so many good people within this town. Your family. The Wheelers. The Byers and the Sinclairs and the Mayfields and everyone else. 

So many innocent lives. All reduced to rubble and death by a rotting corpse from the Upside Down. 

Yet you still can’t get a hold of El. The only person who truly has any idea of how to stop Vecna is gone. She’s across the country with a landline that apparently doesn’t fucking work. It’s bullshit. It’s all complete and utter bullshit. 

“He showed me my mom. And Holly. Mike… And they were all–” When Nancy breaks, your fury melts into sympathy. You’re walking over to her in seconds, and Nancy throws herself into your arms as she cries. 

“He won’t hurt them.” You promise her, though it’s an empty promise that you both recognize. Neither one of you has any idea of how to stop Vecna. But Nancy clings to the comfort and allows herself to be weak. 

Lost in your worry for the girl, you miss Dustin speaking to you. He clears his throat awkwardly, raises his voice. You turn your attention to him, nodding to indicate you’re listening. 

“Did you see the same thing as Nancy?” Dustin asks you, shifting uncomfortably. The reminder of your body rising into the air only hours ago burns. “Did you… did you share the same vision?”

You and Nancy stiffen at the same time. She pulls away from you as if you’ve burned her. The shame of what she saw in your vision… Too much was revealed to her in an unfair way.

No one can ever know what you saw. It’s too painful, too embarrassing, but you know that the information could be important. Clearing your throat, you answer with what you can. “No, he didn’t show me Hawkins, just my…”

Your voice trails off. Everyone looks at you expectantly, waiting for more. Nancy described her visions in such detail, yet all you can give them are a few words. 

“Just my insecurities.” You clear your throat again. “He was trying to scare me. Similar to what he showed Max. I only got out of it because Steve saved me with the music.” He smiles at you, though it’s pained. Trying to ease the heaviness in the room, you shrug halfheartedly. “The Beatles. Saving lives since 1986.”

It works, albeit with minimal reactions. 

“The Beatles, huh?” Eddie gives you a weak smile. “That’s really what you consider music?”

“I almost died. Cut me some slack.”

Eddie opens his mouth to say more, but Steve shoves a hand in his face and shuts him up. He’s anxious. He hates how much the nine of you still don’t know. He doesn’t want to believe that Nancy’s vision had been real. “Maybe that’s all Vecna is doing. Trying to scare us. It’s not real.”

“Not yet.” Nancy lets out a defeated laugh. She isn’t convinced. Neither are you. That’s when she reveals the gates. How there were four of them spread across Hawkins. “This wasn’t the Upside Down Hawkins. This was our Hawkins. Our home.”

The hair on your arms stands up. He’s targeting your home. The fury is back; you hate Vecna. You hate him with everything within you.

Yet, in sickening irony, from the little you know about Vecna, you do know that nothing he does is accidental. He wouldn’t show Nancy four gates without it meaning something. A deep, awful churning sensation constricts in your esophagus. “Is he… trying to combine our worlds?”

“Four chimes.” Max finally speaks up. “Vecna’s clock.”

Everyone turns. Max only looks at you. “It always chimes four times. You heard them, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” your mouth is dry. The chimes were the first thing you heard. It was how you knew Vecna had gotten you. “I heard them.”

“I heard them, too.” Nancy whispers. 

The room almost seems to hold its breath as everyone comes to the realization at the same time; you’re too afraid to breathe life into the words. Vecna has been telling you his plan this entire time. 

“Four kills.” Lucas slowly looks around the room. “Four gates… End of the world.”

His voice trails off and Dustin’s stomach drops. He studies everyone’s faces. No one seems to realize yet what he has. Dustin looks at you and for the first time in his life resents his intelligence; he wishes he could be naive. 

“If that’s true…” Dustin can’t say it. He can’t bring himself to say it.

“Then he’s only one kill away.” You finish for your brother, instinctively looking at Max. While everyone reacts to what you’ve said, cursing and filling with dread, you and Max stare at one another. You’re both thinking the same thing. 

Vecna is one kill away, and you’re both marked. 

Max’s jaw clenches. She can practically read your mind, knowing that you hope the death will be yours. That you’ll do anything to be the final kill if it means saving her life. All you’ve done this entire week is ensure Max’s safety. You’ve put her life above yours again and again. 

When Vecna almost killed her in the cemetery, Max heard you beg him to take you instead. It infuriated her.

There were you, ready to give up your life for hers without even considering how your death would affect everyone else. Max’s death would go unnoticed. She knows this and she’s accepted it.

But your death would fundamentally alter the earth’s makeup. You are the warmth that her and everyone else needs to survive. If you died because of Max, she knows everyone would blame her. It would be one more death that she caused. Your ghost would join Billy’s. 

Max shakes her head at you. A small, subtle and curt shake. One meant for only you to see. You breathe in sharply. Her stony gaze sears into your skin. The message is clear: Max won’t let you die, either. 

“Try Byers again.” Steve’s urgent voice prevents you from trying to argue with Max. He doesn’t see the interaction. He’s too lost in his own mind, mentally sifting through every possible solution he can come up with. Someone has to know something. “Try calling him again, Y/N.”

Steve is anxious and the crease between his brow deepens when he looks at you. He can’t let you die and you don’t have the heart to remind him that you’ve tried calling the Byers home repeatedly this week, just to be met with a busy signal. 

Instead you sigh and walk over to the phone. Dialing the long memorized number, the line rings. And rings. And rings again. Until the beep of the busy tone alerts you that the line is full. “Damn it!”

You slam your fist against the wall, frustrated tears threatening to spill over. Dustin bites his lip at your reaction. “Guessing he didn’t respond.”

“Maybe she typed it in wrong…?” The death glare you send Steve quickly has him backtracking. “I-I mean it’s possible!”

“The Byers are like Y/N’s second family, dingus.” Robin flicks your boyfriend’s head for you, which you appreciate her for.

You try dialing the number again, but the same thing happens. It rings a few times before the busy signal drones on. Frustrated and worried, you slam the phone down. “No answer. Again. It’s been like this all fucking week.”

“Didn’t you say Joyce has that new telemarketer job? She’s always on the phone. Mike never stops whining about it.” Dustin tries to reason.

Max looks at him, skeptical. “A busy signal for three days?” 

“I’ve never gone this long without hearing from them. They always answer…” fear pricks your skin. “Someone always calls me back. El, Will, Jonathan… something’s wrong.”

“She’s right. It can’t just be coincidence.” Nancy’s uncertainty mirrors your own. The two of you are the closest to the Byers. Their silence is unnerving. 

“What are the odds that something is happening in Lenora?” 

Nancy frowns at you. “Pretty high. And whatever is happening there, it has to be connected to all of this.”

“But how?” 

Everything that has ever happened in Hawkins has remained in Hawkins. While you don’t understand how or why, the Upside Down is tied to this shitty town. It doesn’t make any sense for it to spill over into California, hundreds of miles away.

“I don’t know.” Nancy looks out Max’s window, her face hardening. “But at least Vecna can’t hurt them.”

You laugh bitterly. “I never thought I’d be so happy that they’re in California.”

Every day you miss the Byers like an open wound. You miss Jonathan and his slanted smile. Will and his tenderness. El and her sweet laugh. Joyce and her warm embrace. Their absence is palpable in your life, but for once you’re relieved that they’re gone.

They’re as far away from danger as they can possibly be. Vecna, as far as you know, can’t reach them from Hawkins. Though you may not know why they’ve gone radio silent, at the very least you know they’re alive. 

“I’m not just talking about how far away they are.” Nancy turns to you. Color has returned to her face. Her eyes are bright again and she’s alive with an idea. “Vecna can’t hurt them if he’s dead.”

Nancy Wheeler has always been protective of the ones she loves. You both are; it’s what has tied the two of you together. The only difference is that Nancy sees red where you see cautionary yellow. 

“We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down.”

You almost pass out from how quickly you stand. “Are you insane?”

Steve grabs your waist, steadying you, while Eddie rocks back and forth on the couch mumbling to himself. Robin lets out a scared squeak and you can practically see every possible way you can die in the Upside Down before your very eyes. 

“We’re going to die,” you laugh hysterically, finally reaching your breaking point. “Nancy, we are going to die if we go back there.”

“Not if we’re prepared! This time we’ll get weapons and-and protection. We’ll go through the gate, find his lair, and we’ll kill him.”

“Oh, because it’ll be that easy, right? Look,” you break from Steve and grab Nancy’s arm, forcing her to look at you. “I’ve always gone along with your plans. But this? This is too far.”

Steve joins you, looking equally as overwhelmed and alarmed. “Y/N’s right. And, might I add, the only reason you survived is because he wanted you to. He’s not scared of us!”

Nancy falters for a moment. She knows Steve is right. Everyone knows that it wasn’t your music that brought her back. Vecna only allowed her to survive because he could. 

“He let you live because somehow it’s all a part of his plan.” You urge, frustrated that Nancy can’t see what you see. “What if this is what he wants? He knows us, he’s been watching us. He knows you, Nancy. You could be falling right into his trap.”

“And it’s a fucking good trap!” Robin jumps to her feet, already starting to pace as she mumbles to herself. “We were wrong about Vecna. Henry? One? I’m sorry, what are we calling him now?”

Everyone gives her a different response, and you chime in with your own suggestion: “Bitch.”

“I like bitch, but it isn’t really PG, is it?” Robin cracks a smile before remembering where she is. She rambles on about how all you’ve managed to learn about Vecna is that he’s a sick, twisted version of El with deadly powers. “He could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.”

“Then why fight fair?” Dustin finally speaks up. He’s thought of something, too. “You’re right. He’s like Eleven, but that gives us an upper hand.”

Frustratingly, your brother has a point. Ducking your head, you voice what he’s thinking. “Which means we know her strengths and weaknesses.”

“Exactly.”

“Weaknesses?” Erica looks at you and Dustin as if you’re insane. 

Dustin explains how El’s powers work. When he mentions the trance she always seems to fall under when she remote-travels, Lucas snaps his fingers. “That would explain what Vecna was doing in that attic.”

“And when he attacks his next victim–”

“His body will be defenseless…” you breathe out, hope igniting in your chest despite your attempts to snuff it out. 

Steve scoffs at you. “Defenseless? What about the army of bats?” He motions towards his bruised neck before pointing down at your thigh. “I mean, I love you, but I think you’re missing most of your thigh.”

“Only a quarter is gone.”

“Y/N.”

“Okay, maybe a little more.”

Dustin waves his hands at you and Steve. “Alright, we get it. The bats were a bitch, but all we need to do is find a way to distract them.”

“And, uh.” Eddie begins to rise from the couch. “How do we do that, exactly?”

“No idea.”

Eddie sits back down. You smile at him, tight lipped. He should’ve expected an answer like that, honestly. 

Dustin doubles down on his plan. “It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”

But there are components to his plan that the group still needs to figure out. “We’d need someone to lure him, get him into the trance in the first place.”

Robin nods eagerly at you. “My thoughts exactly, and we don’t even know who he’s going to attack next–”

“Yeah, we do.” 

Your heart stops. 

Everyone turns to Max. She only meets your gaze. Her jaw is set, the same hardened look in her eyes from when she shook her head at you returns.

Knowing where this is going, you stand in front of Max and block her from the others. “No.” 

“I can still feel him–”

“No.” You can’t believe Max is even entertaining the idea of you letting her be the bait. As if you’d ever put her in that kind of danger. Like you wouldn’t die a million times if it meant she got to live once. “You know I won’t let you.”

Max glares back at you. “I’m still marked.”

“So am I.” A bitter laugh. “We’re both cursed. You and me. We’re one in the same, but I’m not letting you be the bait.”

“What, so I’m just expected to let you sacrifice yourself?” Max laughs incredulously. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well. Max Mayfield, the one who killed Hawkins’ sweetheart, responsible for yet another death!”

You try to reach out to her, but Max stumbles back. “No one is dying, alright? And you wouldn’t be responsible for my death. I’m choosing to do this. You’re-you’re just a kid, Max. It’s my job to protect you–”

“I never asked you to protect me!” Max screams, startling you into silence. The volume of her voice seems to surprise her as well because she takes a step back, breathing heavily. “I never… I never asked for any of this.”

Silence swallows the room. Max looks at you, her eyes pleading. Her words swim in your head. What did she mean by being responsible for another death? That she would be blamed for yours? 

“You didn’t ask me to protect you,” your voice shakes slightly. Holding her gaze, you allow your tears to fall. “But I never asked to lose you, either.”

Max breathes in sharply. Your words cut through her guard, breaking down the last of her walls. She’s silent again. 

“Neither one of you are going.” Steve is next to you now, hand falling against your back. He looks between you and Max, voice gentle, but firm.

“What if we… leveled the playing field?” Dustin hesitantly suggests. Lucas and Steve frown at him, shocked he’s even considering any of this seeing how protective he is of you. Dustin sighs, rubbing his face tiredly. “Look, they’ve both had visions. They’re both next. And whether we like it or not, Vecna has only doubled his chances of winning.”

Eddie stares at him in disbelief. “What, so we just have them both be the bait? Toss ‘em both to Vecna and see which one he bites?” 

“I’d word it better, but…” Dustin bites his lip, staring at you. “Yeah.”

Behind you, Steve tries to shove past the others to get to you. Only Lucas stops him, shaking his head at the older teen. Now isn’t the time, Lucas knows that Steve will say something he'll regret. 

Steve wants to scream. He doesn’t at all like what he’s hearing, but when he looks at you and notices the interest in your eyes, he feels his heart drop. You’re really considering this. You’re really willing to put yourself in danger to save Hawkins.

Because it’s what you do. It’s what you’ve always done. You’re too good for this world. Steve can’t let you get hurt, not like this. 

Tentatively you look at Max. “If one of us is in the Upside Down…”

“And the other in the attic in Hawkins.” Max continues for you, relieved you seem to understand. “He’s guaranteed to find one of us. And whoever he chooses, we just… we just need to keep him busy long enough so that the others can get into the attic.”

A game of luck disguised as a compromise. Even though luck has never been on your side, Max won’t back down from this, and neither will you. 

However this story ends, you hope that it’s your body that is buried. Max, thinking the same thing, smiles pitifully at you. Reaching a stalemate, all you can do now is smile back at her.

“Do me a favor,” you turn to the rest of the group. “When you stab him, blow him up with whatever explosives Dustin inevitably comes up with, however you end up killing this piece of shit… Try not to miss.”

“For both of us.” Max says. 

Steve’s hand presses harshly against your back. He’s biting his tongue. You can feel all the unsaid resentment and protests that die in his throat. Exhaustion darkens his eyes and you want, more than anything, to promise him that everything will be okay.

But you can’t. 

Not this time. 

– 

Eddie slams down a massive flier onto the table. With big, bold letters and an abundance of American flags in the background, the flier is your worst nightmare.

“‘The War Zone?’” You look at Eddie uncertainly. “Not a very welcoming store name.”

“That’s because it’s not a very welcoming store, princess.” He winks at you. “But I’ve been there before, and it’s huge. They’ve got everything you need for, uh…”

“War?”

“I was gonna say killing things, but war works, too.”

Robin pokes your side, gently moving you aside so that she can look over Eddie’s shoulder. “Think fake Rambo has enough guns there?”

“Well there’s a grenade sale going on, so.” You shrug at her. “I’m willing to bet they’ve got enough guns. And an aversion to laws.”

Robin still looks unsure, but Eddie quickly explains that the War Zone is far enough away from Hawkins that no one will recognize any of you there. With a wanted murderer and multiple accomplices in your group, anonymity is your only option. 

“But if we’re trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called the War Zone.” Erica points out, which you snort at.

“She’s not wrong.”

Nancy sighs. “Normally I’d agree, but we need the weapons. I think it’s worth the risk.”

Lucas agrees, but Dustin reminds everyone that you currently have no way to get there. Steve’s car is gone and all you have are bikes and prayers. 

Eddie smiles wickedly at your brother. “Who said anything about bikes?”

“What, you got some car we don’t know about?” Steve asks him.

“It’s not exactly a car, Steve. And it’s not exactly mine, but… it’ll do.”

You step in between Steve and Eddie. “What do you mean it’s not exactly yours?”

He ignores your question and looks at Max. “Hey, Red, you got a ski mask, or a bandanna, something like that?”

“Why the fuck do you need a ski mask–” You hit at Eddie’s chest, worry growing more and more by the second. 

Eddie catches your hand that swings down at him, a devious smile. “Have you ever stolen a RV, Y/N?”

“No. No fucking way.” You’ve never hated an idea more. “That’s someone’s home. And-and it’s a crime. A huge one at that, like insanely huge and very, very illegal–”

Dustin pats your back, laughing to himself. “C’mon. Lighten up a bit. Do it for science, for the world!”

“What does science have to do with any of this? We’re talking about literally robbing someone’s entire livelihood to go kill some wrinkly old guy and there’s no way in hell that I am ever agreeing to stealing a RV–”

You end up stealing a fucking RV. 

Eddie is wearing a ridiculous ski mask that Max once wore for Halloween as he guides you through the trailer park. Weaving in and out of mobile homes, Eddie finds his target and throws himself through the window. 

Steve jumps in next, leaning out the side so that he can then help you climb through. The window is just tall enough to be painful to squeeze into, and you let out several choice words as Steve pulls you up. 

“You alright?” He asks you once you’re in.

“I hate everything about this.”

“Henderson, you got anything sharp?” Eddie whispers from the driver’s seat. He’s holding a bunch of wires that all look the same to you.

Digging into your pocket, you toss him your knives. “If anyone asks, you stole them from me.”

Eddie smirks at you, flicking the knives open and cutting random wires. He works quickly, with practiced ease, and Steve notices, too. “Where’d you learn how to do this?”

Eddie’s fingers tie wires together and he laughs sarcastically. He explains that his father was the one who taught him, bitter and relentless. “I swore to myself I’d never wind up like he did, but now I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh. I’m really livin’ up to the Munson name.”

“Aren’t fathers lovely?” You force a laugh, but you can still feel the heavy weight of your father’s hands around you. The vision, how real he had seemed. Eddie gives you an odd, slightly concerned look, before Robin suddenly appears. 

“Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving this thing.”

You bite your lip. “Honestly, I also don’t like the idea.”

“Oh, I’m just starting this sucker. Harrington’s got her.” Eddie leans in close to Steve, almost flirting with him. “Don’t ya, big boy?” 

Steve’s off-put expression, the pure joy in Eddie’s eyes and Robin’s utter confusion, it all makes you laugh hysterically. This entire situation is so fucking bizarre. Here you are, hotwiring a RV with Eddie goddamn Munson while he flirts with your boyfriend. 

The engine sparks to life, cutting your laughter short, and within seconds the married couple who owns the RV is pounding on the windows. Cover blown, Steve curses and shoves Eddie out of the way so that he can throw you against the passenger seat. 

“Get ready!” Steve shouts after making sure you’re secured before jumping into the driver’s seat.

Heart pounding, you quickly shout over your shoulder to the kids. “Everyone, hang on!”

Dustin scrambles onto the back window and holds on for dear life. “Drive, Steve!”

Throwing his foot on the gas, the RV pulls out of the trailer park with impressive speed. For being more home than mobile, you have to tightly clutch the sides of your seat in fear of flying forward. 

“Shit, they look pissed.” Dustin watches the couple run after the RV, but it’s a lost cause.

“I mean, it’s not every day you lose your house and your car in one fell swoop.” Robin says, body jolting due to the rough terrain. 

Steve screams, telling everyone to hold on, before he barrels through a pile of garbage. The RV takes a rough turn, tilting slightly, before finally finding the road. The tires squeal, but Steve manages to steady the vehicle and grace you with smoother driving. 

“We’re felons.” Your eyes are squeezed shut as you rub your stomach, nauseous. “I can’t believe we just stole that poor couple’s home.”

“Think Spidey would understand?” Steve spares you a glance as he drives.

“Don’t ever evoke his name while committing a felony.”

– 

For the first few miles, all you could focus on was the squeezing knot of guilt in your chest as the adrenaline crashed. Every car you passed set you on edge. Every passing second you were terrified you’d encounter cops and get pulled over, sent to jail.

However, after about fifteen miles, you finally settle into the drive. Despite all you’ve been through, it’s still a beautiful time of year. The spring trees are green and soft music plays on the radio. Everyone is quiet, looking out the windows or talking amongst themselves.

Steve looks at ease driving the RV, the dewy sun framing his beautiful face. This is the calmest you’ve seen him all week. Feet propped up on the dashboard, you poke his arm. “You look real comfortable driving this thing.”

He smiles softly, shrugging. “It’s not half bad, considering this is a house.”

You giggle, smiling along with him. A comfortable silence follows and the music floats around you. The guitar strings are sweet, melancholy, and they make you miss your father. “My dad used to play this song on his guitar.”

“He did?” Steve seems surprised you’ve brought your father up, and you don’t blame him. It isn’t often that you talk about him.

“Yeah,” you’re not sure why you’re telling Steve this. Not now, at least. Driving a stolen RV to a war store for supplies. “He’d play it around bonfires. Everyone loved it. It was… it was nice.”

“Did he… play any other songs?” Steve doesn’t want to push you. He’s honestly just grateful you’ve shared even this small snippet of your life with him, but Steve will always want to know more about you. 

You pause for a moment. You’re not used to talking about this with anyone else. Only Dustin and Jonathan. “The Beatles. He really loved the Beatles.”

“Sounds like your dad had good taste in music, then.” 

“Yeah,” smiling to yourself, you allow this one good memory of your father to linger. “He really did.”

After a beat of silence, Steve clears his throat. He doesn’t want this softness to end. “Thank you for telling me, angel.”

You shrug, cheeks burning. You’re uncomfortable with the sincerity. You know Steve is being genuine, but the foreignness of revealing yourself is still unsettling.

Not wanting to lose this vulnerability yet, Steve risks looking at you. “Dustin told me about him, you know. Your dad, I mean. He told me what he did. And I-I’m really sorry, Y/N. I am. Your family didn’t deserve that.”

You’re quiet. 

“I understand, now.” Steve doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. Not again, not like he always seems to do. “I-I had this dream, you know, that I’d have this really big family. I’m talking, like, a full brood of Harringtons. Like, five or six kids.”

Even though you laugh a bit, his confession stings. You know exactly why Steve has always envisioned a big family for himself. His home was never really a home. His family was never really a family. 

You’ve only ever met Richard Harrington once, and you will always remember how cold his eyes were. 

“And what would you do with these six kids of yours?” You entertain Steve’s dream because you love him. Because you know that no one else will.

Steve blushes slightly, although relieved that you’re at least responding to him again. “I figured every summer, all of us Harringtons would pack into something like this and just see the country. You know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon… maybe even the Shenandoah valley in Virginia.” 

It’s your turn to blush. Steve wants to take his kids to where you grew up. “That sounds really nice, honey.”

Steve looks at you hopefully, adoration in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you know your eyes reveal your fondness for him, too. “Although six kids might be too much. I think three is all I’d agree to.”

Steve catches your slip before you do. He watches, bashful and giddy, as you realize what you’ve said. How you unconsciously told him your kids would be his kids. While you blush furiously at the implications, Steve’s heart flutters. 

So you do see a future with him. A family. 

Seeing Steve’s bashful smile, all your embarrassment fades away. He loves you, pure and unabashedly. All he wants is his future to have you, and you finally understand that you have a safe place to land. Steve will always be there to catch you. 

“You’ll be a good dad, honey.” He isn’t like your father. Steve doesn’t know how to abandon someone. It isn’t in his blood.

Steve ducks his head, smiling even wider. He thanks you softly, eyes flicking between you and the road. The strings that were twisted between you straighten. The knots come undone. Smiling at him again, you feel someone’s eyes on you.

When you turn around, you find Nancy quickly looking away. She pretends that she hadn’t been watching you and Steve, though she does a terrible job at it. Sighing, you kiss Steve’s forehead.

“I’ll be back.”

He tries to ask you where you’re going, but you’re out of your seat before he can finish his question. 

You sit next to Nancy, shoulder bumping against hers as you do so. She doesn’t look up at you, too busy pretending to be engrossed in Eddie’s War Zone flier. Her eyebrows are knit together and you know she’s anxious about it all.

Gently nudging her, you prompt Nancy to look at you. When she reluctantly does, you ask the question that’s been burning your tongue all morning. “How much of my vision did you see?”

“I-I’m so sorry.” Nancy breaks immediately. Unable to look at you, she turns her head and closes her eyes. “He… he showed me Steve. He made me listen to your cries as he and I–” Her voice cracks, nausea builds. “I heard what he told you.”

Your face burn in embarrassment. While you appreciate her honesty, you hate that Nancy saw you in your most vulnerable state. You hate that she had to see that your deepest, innermost insecurity is her. 

“It was real, wasn’t it?” Nancy hesitantly asks. Her lips are chapped and her voice is rough from disuse and uncertainty. “You really do think that Steve will never forget me.”

She knows she shouldn’t be asking you any of this. She knows that too much was shown to her, more than you’ve ever shown to anyone. Nancy doesn’t know what she would do if she were you. To have your deepest fears shown to someone without consent. Without any warning. 

You roll Nancy’s question around in your head. You aren’t surprised that she’s asked it; she’s never shied away from the questions that keep everyone else up at night. Absentmindedly your eyes roam Steve’s body. His shoulders are relaxed as he drives. He knows you’ll return to him when you’re done. 

It is a certainty for him, one only love can provide.

“I know he loves me.” You say slowly, carefully. Looking up at Steve again, your eyes soften slightly. “But I think sometimes I get scared of the hold you have over him.”

Nancy starts to laugh, loud and without any humor. Your eyes widen at her, hurt blooming within your chest. “What’s so funny, Wheeler?”

“Nothing!” She grabs your hand, laughter dying quickly. “God, I’m not laughing at you, I swear. It’s just-it’s ironic, isn’t it? I mean, I have the same fear with you and Jonathan. The hold you seem to have over him.”

Your thumb strokes the back of her hand. In a way, you suppose it all really is ironic. 

Risking it all, your head drops down to Nancy’s shoulder. She allows you to rest it there as you both stare out the window in front of you. “We were their first loves.” Watching the trees pass by, it’s all so very bittersweet. “Do you ever think about that?”

You were Jonathan’s first love. Nancy was Steve’s. 

Nancy hums softly, recognizing the irony as well. The two of you have always felt lesser than the other, yet the boys you love are so blindly devoted to you. Nancy remembers last summer and her cruel words of insecurity. 

“I’m sorry we wasted so much time.” Nancy whispers, and you don’t need to ask her what she means. You know she’s referring to the July phone call. 

“Lost time can always be made up.”

Nancy squeezes your hand. The two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, mending the fragments that were shattered a while ago. The mending isn’t perfect. Some pieces have been lost forever, but the image it creates is the same; it’s still love.

“I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but I’ve never seen Steve so in love.” 

You pick your head up and smile at her, appreciative of the sentiment. “Jonathan is the same, you know. He loves you so much, Nancy. Even if he struggles to show it.”

Nancy doesn’t believe you. You can see it in the way her eyes suddenly darken. The wrinkle in her forehead. She doesn’t believe that Jonathan loves her anymore, and the thought makes you ache. 

“I know he’s been distant lately. He’s been distant with me, too.” The admission is difficult only because you don’t want Nancy to think you’re being cruel. She deserves to know everything. “He’s lonely in California. He misses you more than I think he’s even able to process.”

Slowly, Nancy nods at you to continue; you haven’t scared her away yet. “Jonathan will never admit when he’s hurting, it’s infuriating and admirable all at the same time. But he… he gets lost, sometimes. Jonathan loves you so much that he’s afraid he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t understand that sometimes love is selfish.” 

Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?

But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.

Jonathan hadn’t been confessing his feelings for you. It’s only now that you realize this. He’d just been scared, weak. Weak from hiding his fears, his uncertainty for his future and the weight of his family on his shoulders. 

All his life Jonathan has only ever known instability. He was never able to adjust to Nancy’s foundations. It was only when he was finally starting to trust the stability that their fighting began, and Jonathan hid. It was instinctive.

“Jonathan, he called me the other night.” You say, causing Nancy to stiffen slightly. You squeeze her hand again, silently urging her to listen before she says anything else. “It was before the world was ending, obviously, and he… he asked me if I ever thought we made a mistake. Me and him.”

“A mistake?” Nancy shakes her head. 

“Steve and I had a fight earlier that day, and you and Jonathan were having problems, so he just… he was afraid that if we made a mistake choosing you and Steve, then it would mean we made things harder for you, too.” 

The wrinkle in Nancy’s forehead lessens, but only by a fragment. She’s listening, she’s trying to follow along, but she’s been so hurt for so long that it’s difficult for her to distinguish fact from fiction. 

“Loving you has always been easy for him to do, so he got scared when the ease fell away.” Your eyes never leave Nancy’s. “Jonathan didn’t understand that love can be just as hard as it is soft. You can’t have one without the other.”

Nancy is quiet for several long moments. She sits with your words, allows herself to think through them. To trust where they came from and know that they’re meant to help, not hurt. Eventually, Nancy exhales after months of holding her breath. 

“‘Love can be just as hard as it is soft’.” Nancy laughs, short but genuine. “I like that.”

A laugh echoes from your own chest. “Thanks, Wheeler. Came up with it myself.”

“It’s me who should be thanking you.” She ducks her head, suddenly shy. “Thank you. For everything.”

You squeeze her hand one last time. Recognizing her thanks as a polite dismissal, wanting to be alone right now, you kiss the back of her hand before rejoining Steve up front. 

Steve catches your hand before you can sit in the passenger seat. He kisses it, the same as you did with Nancy’s. “What did you two talk about?”

Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, you catch Nancy’s eye in the rearview mirror. She winks, secretive and teasing, and you wink back at her. Sitting down, you prop your feet back up on the dashboard. 

“We were just catching up.”

– 

By the time Steve pulls into War Zone’s parking lot, it’s packed with cars. There are way more people than expected, concerned families running around with guns they don’t know how to use.

“I guess a grenade sale draws in a big crowd.” You whistle low, eyes following a dad and daughter bickering over a baseball bat. 

Steve parks the RV and turns around in his seat. “Alright, dipshits. What’s the plan?” Robin rolls her eyes. “Don’t call us dipshits, dipshit.” 

“Obviously Eddie stays in the RV. He’s Indiana’s most wanted at this point.” Eddie tips an imaginary hat at you. “Dustin and Lucas, you guys should stay, too.”

Your brother makes a disgruntled sound. “What do you mean I’m staying?”

“You’re both in Hellfire and a lot of people with guns want the club gone. I’m not letting either of you step foot in there.”

Lucas sags in his seat, but he doesn’t argue. He knows you’re right. Dustin, however, continues to argue. “Did you forget that I almost watched you die ten hours ago? I’m not leaving you.”

Annoyance softening, you tug at Dustin’s hat playfully. “Don’t worry about me. We grew up with hicks, I know how to fend them off.”

“Plus we’ll be glued to her side, little Henderson.” Robin points at Steve, who nods quickly. “We got her.”

It takes some more arguing and a bribe from Eddie before Dustin eventually calms down. You leave him with Lucas, trusting they’ll be fine on their own. Steve holds his hand out and helps you walk down the RV’s steps and into the store.

Inside, a swarm of people are running around. The entire point of driving all the way to the War Zone was to avoid Hawkins, and yet here everyone is: stocking up on pistols and mace.

“Let’s… be fast.” Nancy eyes everyone wearily, and none of you hesitate to agree.

Splitting up, you, Steve, and Robin head towards the gasoline section. You’d suggested it during the drive here. Fire has always been the most reliable weapon against the Upside Down. 

Eyes scanning the gasoline aisle, you make a mental list of what else you may need. “Okay, I think we should get at least six of these–”

Steve must see something in another aisle, because he whips around and screams behind his shoulder, “Be right back!” 

Robin frowns. “He has the attention span of a dog.”

“Don’t say that,” you toss another can of gasoline into your cart. “It’s offensive to dogs.”

Giggling, Robin helps you. Loading the cart to the brim, you almost miss Steve’s sudden return. “What do you think, angel?”

Looking up, you almost drop the can you’re holding. In the midst of weapons and ammo within the store, Steve has somehow managed to find a nice, brown army jacket. The material is thick, covered in patches, and the brown looks criminally good on your boyfriend. While you’ll miss his arms being on constant display, you almost don’t want him to ever take the jacket off again.

Seeing your speechless reaction, Steve smirks at you. “I take it you approve?”

“Mhm,” your mouth is dry. 

“Good, because I also found this.” Steve reveals another brown army jacket behind him, only this one is smaller. More your size. Not even waiting for your approval, Steve drapes the material over your shoulders. “And now we match.”

“You’re disgusting,” you grumble, though you both know your heart isn’t in it. The apples of your cheeks burn a cherry red. Taking Robin’s flannel off, you return it to her. “A part of me thinks Steve wants me to wear the army jacket because he doesn’t like seeing me in your clothes.”

Steve shrugs. “Half true.”

“Has anyone ever told you how gross you two are?” Robin gags. “I mean, really, it’s sickening how annoying you…”

Her voice trails off. Mid insult. Something she has never done before in the two years you’ve known her. Confused, you look up and notice her lovestruck expression as she stares at something. Following her line of sight, you almost laugh when you find the familiar red curls standing across from you.

“What are you gonna do? Stand and gawk?” Steve teases Robin, amused by the series of events.

You elbow his side. “Be nice. All you did was gawk at me for months.”

“Both of you, shut up.” Robin commands, voice breathy. Her eyes never leave Vickie and she takes a step forward, finally having the courage to approach her, before some guy comes up behind Vickie and scares her.

Vickie yelps, turning around to tell the boy off, but instead he takes her into his arms. The guy is tall, lanky but sure. He stares down at Vickie like she’s some prize and your stomach twists into knots. 

When their lips connect, you can almost feel Robin’s heartbreak. Her face drops and the light in her eyes is extinguished. Vickie turns, face paling when she sees Robin, and the entire ordeal is too much for her to handle. 

Robin’s shoulder knocks roughly against yours as she flees. You call after her, wanting desperately to follow. You know how cruel unrequited love can be. “Robin, wait!”

But Steve stops you, gently pulling you back. “Give her some space.”

As much as you want to argue, snatch your arm back and run after your heartbroken friend, you know that Steve is right. Robin has always preferred seclusion to public displays. She’s never wanted anyone’s pity. When she’s ready, she’ll find you and Steve and you’ll give her all the sun’s rays to melt the ice of rejection.

Steve helps you look for whatever else you’ll need. You roam the aisles, both silent and worried for your friend. At one point you end up in the knives section. When you turn your head to ask Steve his opinion on a silver hilt you find, the question dies in your throat.

Nancy is across the store, holding a rifle while Jason Carver stalks closer and closer to her.

“He’s like a goddamn plague,” you sneer to yourself. Quickly catching Steve’s attention, you motion over to the two teens. “We got a problem.”

Steve curses, also exasperated seeing Jason, but when he tries to walk towards them you stop him. Shaking your head, you block his path. “I love you, but if you go over there right now you’ll make everything worse.”

“That’s not true!”

“Steve.”

He falters. “Okay, well. What do you want me to do?”

“Go find Erica and the others and tell them we’re leaving. Clearly we’ve overstayed our welcome here.” Smoothing down your new leather jacket, you fix your hair and adjust your shoes. “As for me, I’m really hoping Jason still has that crush on me from last summer.”

Steve gawks at you, but you shove him towards the exit and beckon him to do as you say. Jason has only gotten closer to Nancy during your conversation. He leers over her, gripping the rifle with possession. 

Trying to keep your steps slow, casual, you analyze their body movements as you approach. Jason smirks at Nancy, as if he knows all her secrets. “Well, you look nervous.”

Nancy swallows. “Like I said. Scary times.”

Jason doesn’t like her answer. “Now, your brother. Is he here with you, by chance?”

Hearing him mention Mike, your heartbeat races as you practically sprint towards Nancy. Your appearance is abrupt, you’re breathless from exhilaration, and when your body slams against Jason’s, you feign sympathy. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Body turned towards Nancy, you nod at her once, reassuring, before forcing a smile on your face and spinning back around to Jason. “Long time no see, Carver.”

“Y/N.” He doesn’t return your smile. 

Tension thick, you pretend not to notice it. “Sorry for interrupting, but I found the bat Nancy was looking for earlier and was dying to show her.” Tilting your head at her, you indicate towards the exit with your eyes. “Wanna check it out?”

She nods, understanding the hidden meaning behind your words. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Not so fast.” Jason still hasn’t let go of Nancy’s barrel. He tugs it back, forcing you and her to freeze. “I asked Wheeler here a question. Have you seen Mike?”

“No.” Nancy doesn’t flinch away. “He isn’t here.”

Jason then looks at you. There is no warmth in his gaze. “And your brother, he’s in that Hellfire club too, isn’t he? Have you seen him around?”

“I’m not my brother’s keeper.” You keep your voice cold, neutral. Jason is trying to get a reaction from you. He wants you to be scared of him. But you’ve dealt with worse men than him. Wrapping your hand around his arm, you dig your nails into his flesh. “You understand, right?”

Jason’s mouth twitches. His composure is quickly slipping and Nancy uses the slip against him, Tightening her grip on the gun, she pulls it against her chest. “Let go.”

His hand remains. They maintain eye contact, neither looking away. Your nails dig even deeper, the skin beneath them breaks. Hot blood seeps into your nailbeds and Jason finally lets go. 

He rubs the crescent indents in his skin, chuckling darkly at you. “Quite a grip you got there.”

“I tend not to let things go.” A sickly sweet smile crawls onto your face. 

Jason smiles back at you, holding your gaze for another few seconds, before finally walking away. He doesn’t say anything else. The moment he’s gone, you lace your fingers through Nancy’s and run through the store to find Steve and the others.

“That was close.” You duck behind a cart, nearly running into one of Jason’s goonies.

“Too close.” Nancy finds Robin, pointing towards her as she looks for an opening to run. “Think you’ll be able to run?”

“Not really much of a choice, is there?”

And you run. Weaving through what feels like the entirety of Hawkins, you and Nancy manage to break through the store’s exit with Steve, Robin, Max, and Erica in tow. Bursting through the RV’s door, it’s a mess of bodies flailing into seats and screams.

“We need to leave. Now!” You shout at Dustin and the others, having no other time to explain further. “Everyone find a seat and stay low.”

Dustin screeches at Steve to drive while everyone scrambles to do as you’ve said. Hands shaking as you buckle your seatbelt, Steve only has enough time to shout “get ready!” before he’s starting the engine.

The War Zone sign fades into the distance. 

– 

The further you drive, the thicker the air in the RV becomes. Unease creeps over the seats, onto your skin. Nancy sits with all the bags around her as she and Robin sort through them. Dustin watches them, knee bouncing up and down.

Nancy talks first. Slowly, piece by piece, her and Dustin come up with a plan. 

“We’ll need to split into groups.”

“But how many? And where would everyone go?”

Nancy pauses for a moment. “One group in the Upside Down and one group at the Creel house. That should be enough, right?”

You raise your hand as if you’re in school. “If I may, I’d like to remind the class about the bats. We aren’t getting anywhere if they’re eating us alive.”

“She’s got a point.” Dustin says. 

Nancy sighs, but she doesn’t have an answer. 

“What if we had another group in dimension hell?” Eddie suggests. “Ya know, distract the little fuckers while the main group goes and be heroes.” 

“I don’t know,” you shift in your seat. You’re already risking a lot having a few of you go back into the Upside Down. The thought of risking even more lives makes your skin crawl. “Ideally, the less of us in the Upside Down, the better.”

Steve nods. “I’m with Y/N on this one. We don’t all need to go down there. It’s creepy and freakishly cold.”

“It’s our only option. Whoever goes there to kill Vecna will need all the help they can get.” Max says. “If the bats get to them first, then it’s pointless.”

Lucas nods, agreeing with Max, and Dustin has to nod as well. She’s right. There needs to be a third group if there’s any hope of pulling this off. 

Nancy, seeing the growing agreement between everyone, nods. “Alright. Then it’s settled. There’ll be three groups. Me, Y/N, Steve, and Robin will go to the Upside Down and track down Vecna.”

She waits a moment, giving time for anyone to protest. When no one does, she continues. “Y/N will have her walkman, but she won’t use it unless absolutely necessary. If Vecna chooses her, Steve will watch her while Robin and I go into the attic.”

“I’ll be the best goddamn bodyguard there ever was.” Steve jokes, trying to laugh away the discomfort of knowing your life will be on the line of luck. Knowing what he’s doing, you kiss his hand softly.

“If you fuck up and get my sister killed, I know how to procure acid.” Dustin forces Steve to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. The older teen gulps.

Touched, you preen at Dustin. “That’s the nicest threat anyone has ever said for me.”

It gets him to laugh, which you’re thankful for. Nancy cracks a smile as well, but it dims when she remembers where she is. Where you all are. 

“Max, Erica, and Lucas will be at the Creel house. They’ll have her walkman as well. If Vecna chooses her, Lucas needs to be ready.”

The teen slowly nods at Nancy. He hunches his shoulders, places the weight of Max’s life upon him. You’re not entirely comfortable with leaving the kids alone at the house, but it’s the safest location. You’d rather they be in Hawkins than the Upside Down.

You’ll give Max your knives. You’ll show her how to use them and you’ll pray that she never has to. They’ll be fine.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. The mantra that is keeping you sane. 

“Eddie, would you be alright with distracting the bats?” Nancy turns to him, the question posed more as a silent challenge. It was his suggestion; now he has to be willing to lay his life down for it. 

Eddie pales at the question. “I-I mean I guess? Like, would I be-I don’t know, screaming at them? Or-or running around like an idiot, or–”

“I’ll go with him.” Dustin interrupts, saving Eddie from a nervous breakdown. 

Your head spins around the second you hear his voice, cold with fear. “No–”

But Dustin expected this reaction. He meets your fear with a leveled response. “Y/N, this is the only way.”

“I won’t let you go into the Upside Down!” Screaming, voice raw, panic sets in. This is all wrong. Everything is wrong. You could die tonight, Max and Lucas and Erica will be defenseless in a house that you can’t reach, and now your brother wants to go to the place that almost killed you?

It’s too much.

“And I won’t leave Eddie behind!” Dustin screams back at you. “He needs me, and if it means the bats won’t try to kill you again, then I’m doing it.”

“But–”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Y/N. We kinda need them.” Robin tries to placate you, but you’re seeing red and you can’t breathe.

Eddie manages to catch your eye. He lowers his voice, the most sincere he’s ever been. “I promise I’ll protect Dustin with my life. Alright? I won’t let the shithead die.”

Only it’s the wrong thing to say. Your ears are ringing and your chest feels like it’s about to explode. Anger and fear and despair all claw at your throat, begging to be released. 

“Do you really think I can’t protect my own brother?” You hiss at Eddie, teeth clenched and face burning. The words tumble from your mouth before you can even really stop them. You’re blinded by anger, by the overwhelming feeling that you’ll lose. 

You can’t protect everyone on your own. Not this time, not like you’ve always done. Your entire life you’ve given everything within you to protect the ones you love. Pieces of yourself have been broken, bruised, exhausted from it; but it’s all you know. 

You’ve never been good at asking for help. Never trusted anyone enough to love and care for your family with the ferocity that you do. 

But now, faced with something much bigger than yourself, your greatest fear has come true. You have to let go. You have to trust that someone else will be there for your loved ones when you can’t. There’s nothing else you can do.

And it’s fucking terrifying. 

Eddie clears his throat in response to your sudden outburst. The RV falls silent. Eyes stare at you and you turn away in shame, facing the windshield with tears in your eyes. Steve can’t keep his eyes on the road knowing you’re upset.

Eventually there’s a field and Nancy tells Steve to park. With nowhere else to go, the open field will be your basecamp. There are weapons to be made, final moments to be shared. 

No one wastes any time getting out. The RV empties quickly until it’s only you, Dustin, and Steve who remain. Your brother clears his throat awkwardly, standing before you with his arms tucked behind him. 

“Code blue?”

Strings twinge in your chest, but laughter floods anyways. “Yeah,” you wipe your eyes, already crying. “I think we’re due for one.”

You get up from the passenger seat, giving Steve a quick but reassuring glance. He understands without having to be told that you need to be alone with your brother. Giving you some privacy, he turns away while you and Dustin head towards the back. 

Sitting down, Dustin immediately falls against you. You butt heads, playfully and childishly, and you want to cherish these small moments with your brother forever. 

“Please don’t be like dad.” Dustin whispers, so quiet you almost don’t hear him. 

Your throat closes. “Dustin…”

“You can’t leave me. Not like he did. You can’t-you can’t do that to me and mom.” There are tears in his eyes. 

The mention of your mother makes you cry as well. You miss her, you haven’t seen her in days and all you want is to have her hold you one last time. To hear her call you her sweet girl again. To etch her love for you into your skin. 

“I won’t leave you,” your fingers grip Dustin’s arms. Your body shakes, so does his. “I-I won’t. I love you, okay? More than anything in this world. I’m your sister, and I know I haven’t been a very good one recently and I know that I can’t promise that everything will be okay, but–”

“All I want from you is for you to come home.” Dustin rasps. His eyes shine and he sniffs, shaking his head fondly, albeit annoyed. “God, that’s all you have to do. Don’t be like him, don’t leave the house empty. That’s all I want from you, Y/N.”

Brushing his hair back, the promise you make doesn’t burn how you expect it to. “I’ll come home.”

“Good.” Dustin throws himself into you, arms gripping you tightly. His hair tickles your nose and his hat almost pokes your eye out, but you hold onto him anyways. 

“Yo, Henderson!” Eddie’s voice calls from outside. There’s a bang on the RV door, followed by a quiet curse for presumably injuring a hand. “Come help me with these trash lids. The nails are bitches!”

“Trash lids?” You ask Dustin.

He shrugs. “Weapon against the bats. Could be worse.”

You snort, pushing the kid away. “Go help Munson. With his luck, he’ll lose an eye wielding a hammer.” 

Dustin also laughs and allows your body to leave. He stands up, lingers in the doorway, before smiling one last time at you. Your promise to him melts into his skin. He’s chosen to believe you; you have to choose to believe yourself as well.

When he’s gone, the silence in the RV almost drowns you. There’s a dull roar in your head. Conversations echo. Nancy’s confessions and Dustin’s terror. Max’s sacrifice. How long it’s been since you’ve been alone.

Your head drops to your hands. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to salvage what little of your sanity is left. 

A body lands next to you. The smell of bergamot and spice is like a salve to your open wounds. Hands grab your body, pull you flush against a chest. Without having to look, you know Steve is the one holding you.

He lays you down onto the couch and you curl into him instinctively. You use his body to shield you away from the world, feeling like a little kid again. Your bones ache. Steve rubs your flesh as if to dispel the pain that is always there. 

“I know you want to be alone right now,” his chest vibrates against your cheek as he speaks. “But can I just say that I hate this plan?”

His honesty is refreshing, candid and desperately needed. It causes the corners of your mouth to tug upwards, ever so slightly. The ache lessens, the echoes aren’t as deafening. 

Pressing your nose against the base of Steve’s neck, you allow yourself to be weak in this moment. To be soft, vulnerable, trusting that he’ll catch you. “I don’t want to die.”

Steve kisses your forehead, lips warming the cold skin underneath. “I know.” His finger strokes your cheek. He memorizes the lines and dots that litter your face. Old scars, new ones that will never really go away. “It’s a good thing I won’t let you.”

You smile again. No one can promise anything anymore. Yesterday you almost died, today you will use your life as bait, and tomorrow you might never see. Nothing is promised. Not anymore. 

Yet you believe Steve. 

“What did you see in your vision?”

The question is whispered and velvety. You haven’t talked about last night, but Steve knows whatever you saw is weighing on you. He can see the way you carry it on your shoulders, tired and aching. He noticed the tension between you and Nancy, the unyielding fear of letting your brother go. 

Your eyes meet. The brown honey in Steve’s eyes reminds you that he’s real. Here, in his arms, you’re safe. You could confess all your sins to him and Steve would kiss the impurity with holy lips and call you angel. 

Taking a deep breath, you tell him everything. 

“He took me to a field. I recognized that it was Virginia the moment my feet touched the grass. I could see my childhood home up the hill and there was someone calling my name.” Your father’s voice echoes in your ears. You can’t remember the last time he called. “It was my dad.”

Steve pulls you closer.

“I ran to him, even though I knew it wasn’t real, but–” you were a child when he left. The wound will never fade. “I had to see him. I just… I wanted to remember what it was like to be held by him.”

Warm. You remember the warmth.

“Then suddenly I was falling. I screamed, but-but no one could hear me. I was in the woods. The same woods Will disappeared in and I was so scared he had him. That it was all my fault again. I was the one who lost him again. I started to run. I-I had to find him… But he wasn’t there.”

How many times had Will called for you the night he disappeared?

“He’s safe in California, Y/N.” Steve reminds you, tucking hair out of your face. He wants to smooth the worry lines in your face, mold your skin into something calmer, happier. “It wasn’t real.”

“I know none of it was real, but the things Vecna showed me…” Unable to bear saying anything else, you give yourself a moment to breathe. Nothing had been real. But it had felt real. 

Steve frowns, sensing that there’s something else. “What else did he show you, angel?”

“You,” you breathe out, too weak to find any other way to say it. “He showed me you.”

Surprise mars his pretty face. “Me?”

“Nancy, too.” Wiping a tear, you fix Steve’s hair, needing something to distract yourself with. You don’t want to tell him any of this. Shame coats your body but the love in his eyes subdues it. “Vecna preys on your fears, your insecurities, and for me… He showed me you and Nancy together. Having sex.”

Steve doesn’t say anything. 

“He told me that you’d never forget her. Not as easily as my father forgot me, at least.” You laugh bitterly. “He has a sick sense of humor. I’ll give him that.” 

Still Steve remains silent. 

But for once, his silence doesn’t scare you. There’s a trust behind it. An understanding that he wants you to continue, to tell him everything. And you do. 

“I’m scared my guilt will suffocate me.” The confession falls from your lips as easily as a prayer does. “I’m scared of starting a life with someone that I can’t control. I’m scared that I’ll always be abandoned. That I’ll always be second to Nancy. Every boy I have loved has loved her. Who wouldn’t be terrified of that?”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, angel.” Steve cups your face. He doesn’t know what he feels right now. Anger, for both you and him. Agony that he can’t absolve you from the guilt, from the thought of him leaving you. “I love you. Only you.”

“I know you do,” you bring your hand to his face as well. He leans against your palm, gaze tragic and loyal. There is no doubt that he loves you. That has never been what you’ve doubted. 

It’s always been the how. 

How he came to love you. After Nancy. After she left him. After you picked up the pieces she left behind. The love that you know is yours is genuine, but you’ve always been terrified that the foundations of it are false. 

With Steve staring down at you as if you’ve hung the sun and moon for him, you ask him the question that’s been lingering in the back of your mind ever since he crashed into your life. 

“Would you have loved me even without Nancy? If we hadn’t fallen together because of her, would you still have fallen in love with me?”

The answer comes easily to Steve. “Always.”

And it’s everything you need from him. One word, but it’s enough. 

Your fist grips his shirt. A tug, no time to prepare, and your lips crash together. There is nothing soft. The kiss is bruising and it is rough and hard and urgent. Everything left unsaid between you and Steve rises to your lips and melts into your tongues. For every broken promise, there is a bite of skin, a lick of flesh. For every hurt you brought upon the other, there is a soft moan of an apology.

Heat pours from your teeth and into Steve’s lungs. Your breaths become one, your heartbeats overlap and he is everywhere. He is an explosion of light festering on your skin. 

“I see more than just a future with you,” Steve whispers against your lips, hushed and aching. It takes everything within him to pull away for even a second. He kisses you again. Over and over until he’s memorized every crevice of your lips, the cracks on them. “I see my entire life with you.”

Steve breathes you in, hands cradling your face as if to steady the dizziness within him. He looks into your eyes, follows the flushed pink of your lips and your staccato breathing. He takes you in and hopes he never has to forget the way you look when you are in love. 

“I would wait forever,” lips skim the length of your face. Feather light kisses trace your nose, flutter against your eyelids. Inhaling sharply, Steve rests his forehead against yours. He stays there. He will never leave. “I would wait forever if it meant I could start forever with you.”

This is love. This is what can never be taken from me.

“Hey! Lip smackers!” Robin bangs through the RV door, scaring the shit out of you and Steve and causing you to spring apart. She smirks at your reaction, though she tries to cover it with a scoff. She crosses her arms. “Are you assholes gonna help us, or are you too busy swapping spit?”

Steve’s face turns fire red. “Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

“It’s why people find me so charming. Right, Y/N?”

“As long as the nickname ‘lip smackers’ doesn’t stick, I’ll agree with whatever.” You say, getting off the couch. 

Robin laughs. “I actually kinda like it. Has a nice ring to it, ya know?”

“No,” you and Steve say at the same time. Your “no” is more bored while Steve’s is more panicked. 

Rolling your eyes at his affronted reaction, you pat his cheek lovingly and press a quick kiss to it. “Nicknames aside, I should go. There’s one more person I need to talk to.”

Steve tilts his head at you, silently asking who, but you don’t respond. Instead, you turn to Robin. “Whatever you make him help you with, just promise me you won’t scar his pretty face. I have to look at it for the rest of my life.”

Robin grins, secretly relieved the two of you finally seem to be okay again. “No promises, pretty girl. He’s gonna help me make molotov cocktails and we all know his hair is a fire hazard.”

“Ha ha,” Steve laughs boredly. “Very funny.”

You giggle alongside Robin, leaving them to grab their needed supplies. The sunlight outside kisses your skin and in the distance you find Eddie chasing Dustin around. They wield their makeshift shields around, laughing like children.

The image of them before you leaves you breathless for a moment. Even when everything seems grim and hopeless, Eddie has still found a way to make your brother laugh.

They don’t see you approaching them. You have to sidestep Dustin, who nearly runs into you. “Woah!” You grab his shoulders, steadying him. Something pokes your thigh, and when you look down you realize it’s his nail filled trash lid. “God, you’re bound to poke someone’s eye out.”

“What are you doing here?” Dustin asks you, looking around for Steve.

“I came to ask if I could steal Eddie away from you for a second.” You respond, shrugging as if you’ve ever offered to interact with Eddie outside of Dustin. “I need to talk to him.”

Both boys widen their eyes. Eddie pales, while Dustin narrows his eyes at you. “The last time I let you talk to one of my friends, you ended up making him your boyfriend.”

Eddie blanches while you flick your brother’s forehead. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t want Eddie to be my boyfriend.”

Without another word, you grab Eddie by his jacket and yank him away. Dustin shouts at you that he’ll rat you out to Steve, but you don’t care. Eddie is a mumbling mess, unsure what you want with him and slightly terrified he’s done something wrong. 

When you’re far enough away from everyone else, you finally release him. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you look at Eddie. “I owe you an apology.”

“Oh.” He blinks. This definitely hadn’t been what he was expecting. “Can I ask what for?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know I kinda lost my mind earlier. You can say it.” You roll your eyes. “I won’t kill you.” 

“Says the girl who held a knife to my throat.”

“Water under the bridge.” Your fingers fidget. You know this is the right thing to do, but it still makes you uncomfortable. “Look, it was wrong of me to snap at you. I, uh. Get pretty defensive when it comes to accepting help.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, although his eyes flash with slight amusement. 

You clear your throat. “I guess I also struggle to accept when I’m no longer needed.”

“Bullshit.” Eddie laughs in your face. “The universe will always need Hawkin’s sweetheart. Don’t sound so pessimistic, sunshine.”

“You never shut up, do you?” You cut him off, glaring. Here you are, trying to be vulnerable with him, and he’s laughing at you. “Jesus. Anyways, what I’m trying to say is, I shockingly have found myself tolerating you.”

“Gee, you really know how to make a guy feel special.”

“I try,” you glance quickly at Eddie, smirking, and he smirks back. “For a long time, I didn’t understand what Dustin saw in you. You were a total jackass with a giant ego, but I guess these last few days have proven you’re only a tolerable jackass with a moderately oversized ego.”

A surprised laugh leaves Eddie’s lips. “Wow, you really aren’t holding back.”

“Figured we’re overdue for some honesty.” You hate being vulnerable, but Eddie deserves this. Swallowing down your nerves, you finally confess the real reason you’re here. “I’ve never had to place Dustin’s safety in someone else’s hands. I’ve always found a way to be there for him, even through years of constant hell and monsters. I’ve always… I’ve always been the one to protect him.”

Eddie’s laughter is gone.

“But tonight I can’t. Tonight, all I can do is make you promise me that you’ll keep my baby brother safe. I-” Your voice breaks, there are tears that you don’t want to fall. “I need you to promise me, Eddie.”

He sucks in a breath. The boyish humor he so often portrays is stoic. He’s serious, perhaps for the very first time since you’ve met him. 

The two of you stare at one another, both unwavering, before Eddie slowly, almost mischievously, extends his pinky to you. “I promise.”

Linking your pinky around his, your cheeks burn from the suppressed smile. 

– 

The sun is setting when everyone climbs back into the RV. No one speaks. There isn’t anything else to talk about, driving to the Creel house. 

The silence weighs heavily upon the car, setting alongside the sun. You sit in the passenger seat, holding your knives to your chest with your headphones dangling over your neck. There is still blood staining the bandage on your shoulder. The bites on your thigh aches. 

You’ve done all that you can. You keep repeating this to yourself, over and over again like a prayer.

You’ve prepared, you’ve planned, you’ve sacrificed. There isn’t anything else you can do. All that’s left is the end. 

Steve sits next to you, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. His forehead is creased and his shoulders are tense. The closer you get to the house, the more he draws into himself. 

When you finally get to the house, Erica, Lucas, and Max almost leave without saying anything else. While there are no more well wishes to give, no more luck to spare, you can’t bear the thought of leaving them without hearing their voices.

“Be careful,” you follow after them, exiting the RV as well. The three of them turn to you, bittersweet smiles on their faces. They knew you’d do this. 

“We will.” Lucas reassures you, refraining himself from reaching out. He knows that if he hugs you now, he may never let you go. Instead, he ducks his head at you. “We’ll see you later, alright?”

Blinking back tears, you nod back at him. The siblings walk away, leaving you alone with Max. A part of you wonders if they planned this. Stepping towards her, you try one last time to exchange her life for yours. 

“Can I at least ask you not to antagonize Vecna? If you try to persuade him to take you instead, I’m haunting your grave.” It’s a vile thing to say, a joke that you know you’ll come to regret, but it’s the only way you know to get Max to laugh one last time. 

Max does laugh, but she also doesn’t promise you anything. Instead, she exchanges her life for yours. “If he chooses you, remember to picture your good memories. Hide in them. Run to the light.” 

You nod, you’ve spoken briefly about her plan before. It makes sense, in a way. Instead of getting trapped in the bad memories Vecna shows you, you need to hide in the good. Except what Max says next hadn’t been discussed. 

“It’s what Billy tried to do with you. You were his light.” 

It catches you off guard, freezing your lungs. 

“His final words… they took me a while to understand. But I think I know now, and I don’t want you blaming yourself for any of it.” Max’s gaze softens. “You told Billy to find you, and that’s what he tried to do.”

But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?

Talking to you… sweetheart.

Like pieces of a puzzle, everything falls into place.

Unable to stop yourself, you throw your arms around Max. She tenses, and you almost release her with an apology, before she melts; she hugs you back. It’s been a long time since she’s done that.

“Billy was trying to find the light,” she whispers into your ear. “That’s how we’re going to survive.”

And you believe her.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[ddejavvu]

Hiii! Could you write a Spencer Reid x fem reader who are dating & she’s super drunk, he needs to take care of her and she’s all “no I have a boyfriend who I love so much” and goes on a ramble about Spencer, not releasing she’s talking to him & he’s all heart eyes and giggly at her whilst trying to take care of her? Lots of fluff? Thank you!

The minute Spencer tries taking your hand to help you down from the booth you're squeezed into, you push his hand away, "No."

"No," You repeat, shaking your head with all the coordination of a baby deer, "Nooo sir. I am not going to be partaking in anything with you, because I have a boyfriend," You announce, your voice spanning over the entire table, even reaching Rossi who's at the head, "And I love him, and you're- just- fuck off."

Spencer's mouth falls open incredulously at your expletive, though a laugh escapes it rather than one of his own. "Oh, really? You've got a boyfriend?"

"Mhm." You nod proudly, settling back into your seat and burrowing away from his waiting hands into Emily's side, "He's tall, and he has a gun, so don't-" You choke on what Spencer presumes is a hiccup, but could very well be a belch, "Don't mess with me."

"You tell'im," Emily laughs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and rubbing the chilly skin beneath the cutoff of your sleeves, "Do you want me to call Spencer for you, sweetheart? Have him come pick you up?"

"Yeah," You nod easily, your eyes set greedily on your friend's drink now that yours have been downed, "Can you tell him to bring me a blanket, too? I'm cold."

Unbeknownst to you, Penelope herds Spencer away to the edge of the patio your team is seated on, and there's a lingering smile on his face as he listens to what she whispers in his ear.

"I have a blanket in my car," She tells him, "It might have some cat hair on it, but you can totally take it! Go get it, and you can come back like we called you."

"Okay," Spencer's eager to take Penelope's keys from her when she shoves them into Spencer's hands, "Thanks, Garcia. Just make sure she doesn't drink any more, okay?"

A quick glance back at your table reveals Emily holding her glass to your lips, helping you tilt it backwards to dump the concoction down your throat.

"Uh- any more than that." Spencer clarifies. Penelope nods, rushing off to make sure you don't find Rossi's scotch.

Spencer returns barely two minutes later, discreetly dumping Penelope's keys back into her purse. Hotch and Morgan share a knowing smirk when Spencer pats you on the shoulder, and JJ pinches your side from across Emily to get you to notice the man standing beside you.

"Hi angel," Spencer croons, and your face lights up, shining brighter than the fairy lights strung above you, "Emily called me, she said you wanted me to come get you?"

"Spencer!" You cheer, and Emily shares her strength with you to hoist you into his arms where you cling to him like a koala bear, "Spence, you're here! There was this guy, and he tried holding my hand, and-"

"Oh, no," Spencer scrunches his nose, unable to stop himself from laughing when you take it as an invitation to smear yours against his own, "Not a guy! Are you okay, angel?"

"Mhm," You hum, tucking your face into his shoulder, "You're here now, Spence. And you brought a blanket, just like I asked."

"Of course I did," He beams, wrapping his arm tightly around your back as you settle over him like dead weight, "Uh- guys, can we get a bill?"

"Just go," Rossi waves him off, patting his pocket where you all know his rather thick wallet lies, "Take her home now, so that she can't run up my card with any more drinks, and I'll pay for the ones she already had."

"Thanks Rossi," Spencer grins awkwardly at him, flashing the man a strained thumbs-up before he has to use that hand to support the backs of your thighs once more, "Okay, honey, ready to go?"

You don't answer, and Derek leans sideways to peek at you.

"She's out," He snickers, "Pretty boy, make sure she's still breathing when you get home, alright?"

"Got it," Spencer chuckles breathily, "Okay, uh- bye guys."

There's a chorus of send-offs, and Hotch tilts his glass at Reid with an amused twinkle in his dark eyes, "Make sure you're both on time Monday. Hangovers don't excuse you from duty."

[lucimaaie]

missed you ✧.* tlou

pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader

summary - ellie was just missing you when you showed up at her doorstep

warning - short & not proofread as always

being ellie's ex was no doubt awkward. more at the beginning when everything's fresh and you just have to get used to not being together anymore. seeing something that reminds you of her or not being able to knock on her door and say. "i just need you right now."

then a couple months pass, a year, then three and things were normal. relatively normal for exes, ellie guessed. you didn't talk much besides what was needed or when you happened to end up together.

ellie wasn’t going to admit that she missed you. you were her first relationship, sure. that mattered, she knew that, but something in her head told her she needed to not need you. that that was the mature thing to do: not needing your ex-girlfriend. that’s not what she wanted to call you.

she couldn’t rekindle things again, could she? what if she fucked everything up again and everyone in the town found out? she rolled her eyes at the thought and tried to fix the mess she’d made of her sketch. she’d gotten your nose all wrong and it just didn’t look like you.

the thought that she was forgetting what you look like made her want to knock on your door at..3am in the morning. “damn,” ellie rubbed her eye as she realized the time. she shut her book and walked over to her bed when a quiet rapping on the door stopped her. she waited for it to continue and it did. in that familiar beat that was meant for the two of you when sneaking out to see each other was a big no-no.

ellie realizing it was you, cursed as she searched for pants to put on and a jacket to throw on. she scrambled around to get dressed before opening the door with a startled expression. "hi."

"hi." you sung, swaying from side to side like a child.

ellie tilted her head at your behavior before replying. "are you okay?"

"m'finee. why does everyone keep asking that?" you stepped forward to lean against the doorframe but you ended up leaning and missing the frame altogether.

"woah," ellie barely caught you when it hit her. you were drunk. or high off your ass. or both. either way it was concerning how you got like this and decided to come to her of all people. "you're drunk. like really drunk." her hands wrapped around your waist moved to your arms, pulling you inside before closing the door behind you. "drunk." ellie laughed in disbelief as she looked at you.

she'd wanted to see you, but this wasn't exactly the way she imagined it. regardless, she was happy to see you not so tense around her. "staring." you sang again, flopping back onto the bed.

"shit, sorry. let's get you sober." she grabbed the cup on her desk and walked to the bathroom, but not before taking a glance at you. "ish." it wasn't long before she sat next to you. "here."

you sat up and gulped down the water, something you'd probably regret later, and handed her the cup. "ah," you laid back down.

"ah-ah" ellie pulled you back up. "you are not gonna throw up on my bed. please don't do that."

you opened your mouth in offense. "I wouldn't-" you hiccuped. "do that. I wouldn't do that, el. I promise." you said as if it was the most serious thing on earth.

"i believe you." ellie couldn't help but laugh.

she let out a deep breath as she looked at you in your own world. it was good seeing you be you again. it reminded of her of the nights she'd force you into watching some shitty 80s movie for movie night and listen to you complain about it the whole time. or patrols when you'd gift her some random thing you found who knows where saying "it reminds me of you." with a horrible attempt at a wink. days when there was less to worry about.

"missed you, you know." she said quietly. "a lot actually." the confession didn't come off her chest easily but you wouldn't remember later anyway. call it a test run.

"I missed you too, e." you said so naturally she questioned the truth of it. though it seems she was given her answer when you patted around for her hand. she quickly gave it to you. "we shouldn't have broke up." you slurred.

ellie froze. "don't say that."

"why not?" you pouted, leaning your head onto your shoulder. you looked up at her with slightly glossy eyes.

"cause i'm gonna think it's true.” she disconnected her hand from yours to put her arm around your shoulder. “and you’re drunk which meant i shouldn’t take anything you say to heart.”

“that’s just mean. you should take everything i say to heart.” you nuzzled your head into her neck, making her let out a strained hum. you knew she was touch-starved and was probably doing this to tease her. goddamn you.

“that’s very credible.” she got up. “c’mon, you’re gonna sit up in bed till you fall asleep.” ellie squatted down to take off your boots and set them by the bed.

“will you lay down with me?”

her eyes flicked back up to you at the question. she shut them for a while, trying to keep her head on a straight. “you’re not laying down, remember?”

“fine. will you sit up with me?”

“in bed?”

“yup.” you popped the p like this was some casual occurrence. like the last time you’d been this close wasn’t three years ago.

“okay.” ellie said slowly.

“yay.”

“just like a kid.” ellie smiled as she pulled back the covers and patted the spot. you glared at her for the comment and she matched the energy with a smile in her eyes. “get in, kid.”

“only cause i want to.”

after you slid in, ellie did the same. she looked at the ceiling as you scooted closer to her and laid your head on her shoulder again. this time your hands snuck around her waist. “had no idea you were a cuddly drunk.” ellie smiled as you giggled.

“i’ve grown up.”

“i see.” ellie grabbed on your hands from her waist, feeling brave enough to lace your fingers together. she’d enjoy the closeness for the moment. in the morning, you’d awkwardly apologize and scamper off. probably not talk to her for a while.

“missed you.” you mumbled sleepily before closing your eyes. “missed this.”

“me too,” ellie looked at you in this relaxed state. thankful for the opportunity to see this before the morning hit. but she didn’t want to think about that now. she wanted to think of how cute you looked sleepy. how much you enjoyed her touch. how much she was enjoying your touch. “me too.” she laid her head on yours.

thank you for reading!

[theres-a-body-here]

Recieving a love letter

Part two

You decided that the best time to give it to them (pause) is during a trial

Characters: Oni, Trapper, Deathslinger, Mastermind, Cannibal, Ghostface Warnings: Internalized Homophobia, Death, some spice Male!reader

The Oni - Kazan Yamaoka

Impossible... You're both men

Kazan cannot accept this

This simply wasn't acceptable during his era

He immediately smashes your head in with his Kanabo on instinct

Gay panic defense

The evil has been dealt with, Kazan lets out a deep exhale

But...his eyes wander to the letter, still within your cold, stiff grasp

Advantages come from all angles... Don't they?

Kazan takes the letter, convincing himself he'll use whatever information he finds inside against you

It smells like you... Not that he checked

(He did)

A red wax seal holds the letter closed

Kazan looks closer

You had carved his family crest into the wax

Something foreign invades his body, something other than rage

It's nervousness

He opens the letter, making sure to keep the seal intact

For no reason in particular

(He's pocketing that mofo)

Instantly, he's impressed by your penmanship

So organized, clean, and sharp

But its contents are even more eye catching

The love letter is short and sweet

But what follows is even sweeter

A haiku

Kazan feels his heart skip a beat

He checks it once, then again, and one more for good measure

Yep, no mistakes

The loud pop of a gen echoes through the trialground, snapping him out of his trance

Kazan whips his head all around, looking for witnesses

Finding none, he pockets the letter

He stares at your lifeless body, feeling something else flutter in his chest

Guilt

The Trapper - Evan MacMillan

Evan stares at you as you hold your letter out for him to take

After a long, uncomfortable silence, he takes it

He brings it to his face, inspecting it through the holes of his mask

Evan has absolutely no idea what to do here

He looks back at you

"Do you...want me to fuck you?"

Romantic gestures are new territories for Evan, so he honestly thinks this is just your way of asking for dick

Whichever the case, he has a job to do

He puts you down without hesitation and hooks you up, leaving without a second glance

He's still holding the letter

Part of him wants to rip it up, and the other is curious to know what you wrote

He sloppily tears the letter open, reading it hastily as he walks to the next gen

Evan stops when he reads a bit more

You weren't asking for a ball slapping, eye watering, toe curling, deep dick fuck...

You were asking for his heart

You wanted all of him, hooks and all

Okay now he feels a bit bad

Evan reads some more

You actually drew a portrait of him within the letter, saying you learnt of his knack for art from Philip

Now he feels even worse

He lets the others save you without hiccup

In fact, he basically leaves for alone for the rest of the trial

He stops chasing and hurting the others occasionally to stare at you from afar, observing that focused look on your face as you work on gens or heal a teammate

Evan feels butterflies and he no longer has the strength to swat at them

It doesn't matter if he kills all your friends or if they opened the gates and left; Eventually, you're alone with him

He holds your letter out, watching as confusion sets on your face

"I'm dirty and sloppy... I'll ruin it"

He sounds vulnerable, waiting for you to respond

You curl your hand over his, folding the letter into his palm

"I want you to keep it," you say softly, as of talking to an apprehensive deer

He doesn't know what to say

Whatever he was going to respond with gets stuck in his throat as you lean in to kiss the cheek of his mask

He watches as you leave through the exit gate, glancing down at the letter in his hand

The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn

Obviously you're joking... Right?

Cuz there's no way you'd be attracted to someone like him— Old, beat-up, and grumpy

You'd have to push him some more if you want him to accept the letter

Convince him you're being genuine

Eventually, he gives in and takes the letter from you

He glances around nervously, like he's expecting the other survivors to jump out and laugh at him for falling for the joke

He opens the letter, stunned when he sees there's actually things written inside

A blush creeps into his face as he reads, only deepening when he reads more

After he's done, Caleb can't even meet your gaze

After a few moments of silence, he speaks

"I can.....uhhh....keep this... right?"

Talk about awk as hell

Even after the trial, he lies awake thinking about it

Caleb rereads the letter over and over

You're gonna have to be the one to seek him out outside of trials since he's way too embarrassed now

"Yer serious 'bout this, ain'tcha?"

He decides to let his guard down just a bit to let you in

Be prepared to give him lots of reassurance

"Yer sure ya ain't mistaken?"

Caleb isn't one for words, so instead of writing you a letter, he makes you trinkets out of scrap metal

If you kiss him as thanks, he'll actually die on the spot

So please don't... unless you're evil as hell

The Mastermind - Albert Wesker

Wesker makes you kneel as you give him the letter

After snatching it out of your hands, he scans it meticulously

"I see you've made eleven spelling mistakes"

He enjoys the way you tense up instantly, like a puppy waiting to be put on punishment

"How adorable"

He ALLOWS you to watch him put the letter in his inner coat pocket

He would never admit it, but this certainly boosted his ego to new heights

Albert lifts you off the ground and tosses you over his shoulder

He carries you to the basement

"Stay here while I deal with your companions"

He leaves to kill the rest of your friends

After every hook, he pats his chest to make sure the letter is still there

He'll deny he ever did that if you ask him though

Once he returns, Wesker will bombard you with questions, expecting an answer within 5 seconds or less

What took you so long? What do you like most about him? Would you choose him over your friends? How can you satisfy him?

He loves how easily you crumble under his interrogation, blushing and stammering like a fool

Once he's had his fill, he picks you up again

He carries you to hatch

Before he lets you go, he grips your chin and makes you look at him

"I suppose I ought to leave you with something"

Wesker reaches into his coat and pulls out a pair of sunglasses

"I hope you can explain this to your allies," he chuckles

Before you can protest, he puts them on you and drops you into the hole

The Cannibal - Bubba Sawyer

Freezes in place and gasps when he sees you hold out your letter

He lets out a happy squeal before dropping his hammer and chainsaw to the ground

Bubba takes the letter from you gently, treating it like glass

He immediately plops onto the ground

He tears open the envelope carefully and take out the letter

He's completely forgotten about the trial

He reads the letter, shaking with excitement

It's sappy, sweet, and everything he's ever wanted

Even when the sounds of popping generators ring through the trial grounds, Bubba doesn't take his eyes off the letter for a second

He occasionally stops reading to either make a sound of happiness or cover his face out of embarrassment

Once he's finished, Bubba will stand up and pull you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting you up a bit and swaying you around like a ragdoll

You're definitely leaving this trial unharmed

He grabs your hand tightly, marching over to the hatch or exit gates and lets you leave with a goofy wave

The Entity doesn't even punish him for it since his joy was so great it made up for the lack of bad emotions from the survivors

He immediately works on writing a letter for you after the trial is over

The next time you see him, expect another bear hug followed by a letter being shoved in your face

It's messy, sticky, and covered in glitter

Crudely drawn hearts cover the inside as the letters are shaky and almost intelligible

But you can tell Bubba put his whole heart into it

The Ghostface - Danny Johnson

Instantly smug as hell

"Oh, what's that? That for me?"

He takes it from you and immediately tears it open, tossing the envelope behind him nonchalantly

His mask moves as he visibly reads through the letter, occasionally chuckling and shaking his head

Danny finds this scenario so fucking funny— A survivor having a crush on a killer

After he's done, he looks up at you

"Do you have daddy issues or something?'

He laughs loudly when he sees a hurt expression flash across your face, walking over to wrap an arm around your shoulders

"I'm just messing with ya, cutie"

Danny marches over with his head high to one of the hooked survivors, waving the letter in their face

You stand to the side awkwardly, unable to meet your friend's bewildered look

"Your homeboy is down bad for me. Whaddya think about that?"

The survivor grits their teeth struggling to keep the Entity's claw from puncturing their chest

"I think....Gah!...they.... have daddy issues...fuck!"

"THATS WHAT I SAID!"

You're never living this down

He goes around the map showing off your love letter to the others

After he finishes gloating, Danny hooks you

What? He's the Entity's favorite! He can't his reputation be tarnished

Outside of the trial, he follows you around like a shadow

He deadass interrupts your conversations with the others to tell you he wants attention, and you'd better deliver

Your love letter was basically an invitation for him to claim you as his own, whether you regret it or not

You're his now

Like a housecat that swats at others who get too close to their owner

"That kiss factory better be open, pookie"

He says shit like this in front of any survivor or killer

[l0velysmut]

Is it ok if you do Neteyam X Metkayina!Reader with breeding kink?

neteyam x metkayina!reader ꧂

contains: aged!up neteyam, p in v, breeding kink, fluffy ending, neteyams literally perfect.

wc: 1.4k unedited

“Ugh, fuck!” He growls, drilling his length in and out of your tight hole. “Gonna fill this pussy over and over again until you’re all swollen with my baby. Can’t wait for you to be a mother, fuck, you’ll look so pretty… So fucking pretty.”

You moaned, one hand entangled with his braids while the other scratched at his shoulder. You could barely think straight; every time he opened his mouth to speak, nothing but pure filth fell out of it, causing your pussy to tighten around his cock. You could feel every vein, every throb, and you could almost feel every small bioluminescent freckle that was littered all over his cock.

His hips snapped against yours, his thighs hitting yours as he pushes them up against your chest.

Your mind was so foggy from how many times he had made you cum. He had said that you would only get pregnant if you came a few times which you knew was a complete lie, but you wanted to keep your mate satisfied.

“I’m gonna cum again.” He huffs, glancing down at where you two were connected, frustrated when he saw his own seed from the last couple rounds spilling out. He didn’t think too much about it, though, because he knew he would be able to fill you up again. “Fuck, I’m cumming!”

His thrust never slow or stop, and his hips never stutter, they just keep going at their relentlessly fast pace. The feeling of your gummy walls squeezing the cum out of his cock made his eyes roll back as he spilt his load deep inside of you, only then did his hips still. He kept his dick all the way inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix as more and more of his cum sloshed around inside of you.

He had came so many times inside of you, you could almost taste the saltiness of his cum.

Your legs shook in his grip, thighs pressing together, though it did nothing to keep him from pounding you.

Eywa, he couldn’t wait for you to get pregnant and for you to officially make him a father. He’d been dreaming about this for too long. Every night, he’d dream about your life together with a child. A type of child no one’s ever seen before.

A child mixed with omaticaya blood and metkayina blood. A child who could have your skin but his eyes, or your eyes and his skin. A child that everyone would admire and appreciate.

“T-Teyam..” You hiccup, rubbing his shoulder instead of scratching at it. “Please, can we take a break.”

He stares down at you, and is in shock of your beauty for a moment. The way your curly hair was all frizzy around your head like a halo, and the way your teal skin was flush with a tint of red made his head spin. There’s no way he could possibly stop breeding you now. Not when you looked so pretty.

“Lemme fill you to the brim one last time.” He says, pulling out only halfway. “One last time, yawne, I promise. Then we’ll stop, okay?” He takes his sweaty hand off the underside of your thigh, and holds your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Okay..” You say, and he smiles at you.

“That’s my good girl.” He leans down and presses his lips against yours in a fiery kiss filled with nothing but desire.

You melt into the kiss, but he catches you off guard when he begins to thrust into you again, causing you to whimper and throw your head back.

You could feel your limbs shivering and shaking, and you could feel your pussy convulsing around his cock with each thrust.

“You like being my good girl, huh? Letting me use you like this, letting me breed you.” He chuckles when you clench around him, his words effecting you more then you could ever imagine.

The word ‘breed’ made your toes curl and your back arch, creating goosebumps that littered all over your skin. You moaned and whimpered, tingles running up and down your body as you felt another harsh orgasm washing over you like a wave on the beach.

“Ah, fuck, taking me so well. So, so well, baby, such a good girl.” He slows his hips, allowing you to ride out your orgasm, but a needy whine leaves your lips and you hips buck up into his.

“What is it, baby? Use your words.” He says, his hips coming to a halt as he strokes your cheek.

“D-Don’t stop,” You whine. “Please don’t stop, I want you to fill me again. I wanna baby, please! I want you.. to breed me.”

Yours words make something boil inside of him, and his thrusts become harsher. You moan and a small smile rests on your hips as he pounds into you. He noticed the small smile and groans.

“This what you wanted? You wanted me to fuck you like an animal and breed this pussy? Huh?” He says, flipping you over on your stomach and slapping your ass. He pushes your thick tail towards the side, giving him a perfect view to your puckered hole.

You can’t physically bring yourself to reply with words, so you just moan in response, the new position allowing him to hit your g-spot every time he thrust into you.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” He says, rubbing the part of your ass that he had just marked with a red hand print. “Such a good girl, taking me and my cum so well.”

“Teyam!” You moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your back arched into the floor, your tits squished against it. “G-Gonna- Gonna c-cum!”

“Yeah, cum for me,” He groans. “Milk my fucking cock.”

Your thighs shake and yet another orgasm hits you. If it wasn’t for his strong grip on your hips, you would’ve fallen flat on the ground, but he pulled your ass up to him, continuing to pound until he began to moan loudly.

“Shit! Can’t wait to have a whole litter running around here, gonna fill you up with so many babies, people are gonna be so sick of us.” He says, then gives one last hard thrust before cunning inside of you. His cock pulsated and twitched as his tip spilled inside of you for the last time tonight.

He slowly pulls out, and watches in aggravation as your hole pushes out his seed. He pushes his finger into your hole, curling his fingers to make sure his cum stayed inside of you.

You breathed heavily against the floor, and your hips fell to the ground, your body laying completely flat.

And athough he was just as overstimulated as you, he found the strength in himself to pick you up bridal style off the floor and bring you towards your bed which was a thick, yet comfortable, woven mat on the floor with two pillows that the scientists (that you didn’t really like) had provided for your shared home.

He places you down and lays next to you, pulling you into his chest, not bothering to clean up your pussy since he wanted it to take. He pulled the thin sheet over your sweaty bodies, and kisses your forehead.

“You did so good for me, yawne.” He whispers, and you hum, wrapping your arm around him.

“Can’t wait for us to have our own little family. You’re gonna be such a good mama, and I’m gonna be there for you every step of the way.” He says, making you open your eyes and look at him with a smile and heated cheeks.

“If you have any weird food cravings, I’ll make it for you. If you are sore, I’ll give you a massage. Anything that you need, anything at all, Ma’Y/N, I will provide for you.” He holds your hand and kisses it, looking into your eyes lovingly before he brings his hand to your cheek and leans his face to yours.

He kissed your lips, and when you two pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you, Y/N.” He says to you, and you say it back, knowing that it was the truth. Ever since you two laid eyes on each other when he and his family first arrived, you knew there would be something between you two forever.

You grab your kuru and he’s quick to grab his. You both watch as the lilac tendrils of both of your queue’s wrap around each other, connecting every single bit of your souls together.

You both sigh happily and eventually fall asleep in each others embrace

—

a/n: i hope this was good enough cuz idk if i like this or not 😭😭

[kitscutie]

hiii !! i was wondering can you do a fic where rafe comes and picks the reader up from a girls night out and she’s super drunk? tyy!

girls just wanna have fun (rafe cameron x fem!reader)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: feel bad for y/n and fluff (a little bit of psycho rafe at the end!?)

summary: after a rogue night at the boneyard you are in desperate need of comfort from your knight in shining armour - rafe cameron.

a/n: i am still trying to be more active while school is picking up but please bare with me :)

word count: 773

join my new taglist here!

Rafe pulled up to the Boneyard with a sigh. He was no stranger to this place, sure, but he was so used to being with you at these times when you would drink too much and end up being driven home in his truck. This time was different.

He had received a call from your phone, not from your friends but Kie. She had found you puking behind a log alone which sounded funny had it been anyone but you.

Your so called 'friends' from figure eight had ditched you. Rafe knew they were bitches but you ever with a golden heart had ignored his warnings, excited by their invite to a girls night meaning he could not accompany you. Now, he regretted it.

"Where is she?" He asked approaching the only person apart from you and Kie in attendance that he could mildly stand, Sarah.

She simply pointed to an area of the beach separate from the party, he appreciated that Kie had removed you from prying eyes who would no doubt speak of the Kook Princess' inability to hold alcohol tomorrow had they seen.

"Fucking finally, she wont stop crying." Kiara said, not out of anger but worry. He glanced down at you seeing you curled up in Kie's arms, eyes glassy and red, cheeks stained with tears.

"Hey baby." He said ever so gently, kneeling down to your level in the sand and no doubt ruining his expensive chinos.

"Rafe?" You whispered peeling your head from Kie's shoulder as you dared to take in your surroundings.

"Yeah it's me, you good?" He asked, lifting a hand to remove the strands of sweaty hair which had stuck to your forehead, the humidity of the Outer Banks mixing with your illness making your body ever so slightly too warm.

"No I-, I don't feel well and I can't breathe properly." You hiccupped, anxiety making your heartbeat uneasy. Your hands reached for his ironed black shirt and he let you scrunch it between your fingers, grounding your mind.

Rafe nodded at Kiara, letting her know she could leave with a silent thank you.

"Think you had too much to drink?" He asked, watching as you messily nodded in response. "You'll feel better soon then, yeah? I see you got most of it out already." He chuckled, knowing you had been sick multiple times between this moment and his phone call from Kie.

"Just wanna go home." You mumbled, leaning into his warm chest.

"Okay lets get you up then." He said standing up and taking you with him as you stumbled on your feet. "Lean against me okay? Good girl." He added as you did so. The name was comforting and soft, sure it was sometimes used during sex but in this moment it was more. Reassurance.

He supported you all the way to his truck where he buckled you in with a gentle kiss to your scrunched and rosy cheeks.

"I don't want you speaking to those girls again." He said, hands clenched around the steering wheel while his jaw clicked in place though his anger was not directed at you.

"What Kie and Sarah?" You slurred, "They helped me though." You finished as your eyes squinted beneath the street lights which flickered as you passed.

"No, no. I'd rather you talk to my fuckin' psycho sister at this point I'm talking about those Figure Eight bitches." He seethed making your head snap towards him.

"Number one, they're my friends, number two, you're also a Figure Eight bitch, no?" You giggled to yourself, knowing deep inside that his anger was justified to an extent. They weren't your friends, not really.

"They're not baby, you're kind and sensitive they're stuck up and have no personality outside of generational wealth." He replied. You saw the irony in his words though it appeared he didn't and it wasn't a hill you were ready to die on so you let it go.

"M'kay well, I feel better now you're here and I didn't like them all that much anyway I'm just surprised they would stoop that low." You sighed into the silent atmosphere as the car, feeling his gaze on you.

He softly placed a hand on your bare thigh in the darkness, squeezing it in a gesture of comfort.

"Yeah." He sighed in defeat.

In this moment, looking at you in the moonlight Rafe felt a new sense of protectiveness over you. You were naïve and too forgiving to your own detriment, he wasn't and if he could help it those girls would never see the light of day again, never mind your beautiful face.

[superblysubpar]

<- part four | part six -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: Steve and you are working late.

the song: Cinema by Harry Styles

2,236 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / brief descriptions of injury/blood | my blog is 18+

AN: I cannot believe there’s only four chapters left to share of this! Thanks for being here and your continued support of this story 💛Also, no hate to the peaches smelling community, I love that smell just as much as Steve Harrington, just for the purposes of this fic we hate it, of course.

Hawkins, Indiana - the past

  “Yeah? Well, you’d know all about stupid, Harrington.”

  And then you pushed off, the call of your name drowned out by the wind rushing past your ears. 

  It was quick, you blinked and you were already halfway down, stomach swooping as you dropped lower and lower too fast, the gravel no longer a looming, far off thing, but almost right in front of you. Some part of you registered the shout of your name, still sounding close, which would be impossible, unless-

  His bike was next to yours, his cheeks pink as you risked a glance over and shouted, “What the hell are you-”

  Steve swore, said your name, and then you both hit gravel. Rocks and dirt kicked up and hit your bare legs like little knives slicing through your skin that made you yelp. Your handle bars shook, your grip loosening against your will and that was all it took for the destroyer to take you out. 

  Something stung, something snapped, something really, really hurt, and you were blinking up at the bright blue, cloudless Summer sky, breathing hard as hot tears started to pour out over your cheeks. 

  “St-Steve,” you hiccupped, trying to hold in the real tears that threatened to make you start sobbing and the gravel next to you crunched as he scrambled over and you gasped for a deeper breath, “I…I think I…my ankle hurts.”

  His voice was strained, heated, and tight, “I told you, look, now you’re hurt and…” he stopped though, seeing the tears on your cheeks and how your eyes went wide when they looked up at him. Bright red, and matting his hair down against his skin, a big gash on Steve’s forehead was bleeding. 

  “What?” He blinked at you.

  Your mouth fell open, gesturing to it, “Steve, you don’t feel that? Are you okay?”

  He pressed his fingers to his forehead and winced and your body filled with rage, more tears spilling out of you as you yelled. 

  “Why’d you come after me!”

  Steve blinked at your volume, his lips pulling down in a hard frown as his own voice raised. 

  “You were gonna get hurt so I-”

  “What, you had to get hurt too then?”

  Steve shook his head, looking away from you and gingerly reaching out to prop your leg up on his thigh, bloody knuckles and shredded skin on his palms as he curled his fingers around your calf. He looked up the hill to make sure someone was getting help. He laughed, looking back at you with a cold gaze. 

  “Are you seriously making this a competition, right now? While your ankle is sprained or worse and my head is bleeding? Seriously?”

  “Well, why the hell else would you come after me? You just couldn’t let me be the winner, right Harrington? Couldn’t let the stupid girl show you up in front of all your friends, huh?”

  Steve blinked at you, gaze roaming over your face before he shook his head. 

  “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

  Hawkins, Indiana - Friday

  Eddie sits across from you in silence, brown eyes blinking rapidly.

  “How are we doing over here?” The waitress asks, refilling your coffee mugs, eying the silent boy.

  “Oh we’re fine. He’s just processing something, can I get a slice of the lemon pie?”

  “Su-“

  “You - can you have what?” Eddie asks, shocked. He waves his hands in the air, his head shakes from side to side, dark brown waves whipping over his face as he loudly declares with a broad gesture of his hands, “Nope. No. You did not share a milkshake with Steve Harrington!”

  “Wanna say it a little louder, I think there’s a few people over in Chicago who only got ever other word!” You hiss at him, leaning forward.

  Eddie laughs, scoffs, into his coffee mug but sets it down before he can even take a sip. He narrows his eyes at you and leans on his folded arms on the table. “Sweetheart, I was sort of joking last night. I thought this would be funny, maybe you’d come around to seeing he’s not as much of an asshole as you’ve convinced yourself he is, but overall, I was gonna sit back and enjoy the show of you two going at it like you always do. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with the guy and make googly eyes and play footsie at the diner!”

  “First of all,” you growl, but then smile as the waitress drops off the pie. You wait till she’s out of ear shot to continue, “The only reason I was at this diner, with Steve, was because of you-“

  “Details,” he waves you off, sipping his coffee with an eye roll.

  “-And I’m not in love with him. I…” you trail off, fork stabbing the pie as you force out, “I hate him.”

  “Okay,” Eddie nods, pursing his lips and squinting his eyes, sarcasm dripping from the word. 

  “I do!” You shout, then glance around and lower your voice. “I do. I hate him. I hate how he flirts with anything that giggles and smells like peaches. I hate how he drums on the counter when he has a song stuck in his head and whistles while he restocks the shelves. I hate how he always manages to have some sort of food on his chin or cheek or lips. I hate that he’s a cocky,” you cut a huge chunk of the pie with the side of your fork as you emphasize, “Stubborn,” you stab the bite, “Winning obsessed, thinks he’s never wrong, jerk.”

  Your eyes close around the bite of the pie, tart lemon and sweet crust on your tongue hard to swallow because he’s right.

  It’s good.

  And as the sour and sweet dessert rolls over your tastebuds, you know you don’t hate him. You don’t hate how he flirts, you hate that it’s with anyone but you. You don’t hate that he drums or whistles, you hate that you don’t always know the song, and it has you wondering what he listens to - or worse, you do know the song, and of course you like it. You hate that when he gets food on his face, you just want to lick it off. You hate that because he’s just as stubborn and winning obsessed as you, you always have someone to challenge you - to make you try harder, do better. 

  Your eyes open to find Eddie staring at you with raised eyebrows and folded hands.

  “How’s that taste of reality pie going over?”

  You groan, hands over your eyes as you speak softly, “I don’t want to like him, Eddie. I don’t. I can’t.”

  “You do,” Eddie corrects just as softly. He pulls at one of your hands, tugging it off of your face so he can look you in the eyes as he asks, “Why can’t you like him? A real reason this time.”

  Your fork picks at the pie crust, lip worried between your teeth as you think of all the reasons you don’t like Steve.

  There aren’t many - not real reasons at least. 

  Eddie sighs, “Look,” he waves his hands in front of him, “I’m not saying you’ve created this personal vendetta against a guy who was twelve and didn’t want to lose face in front of his friends, but,” he leans forward and shrugs, “Steve Harrington is not a twelve year old idiot anymore. And what’s he actually done that’s been so bad?”

  He lets his words sink in and he taps the table after a minute, joking, “Just don’t sleep with the guy till Sunday, for me, please?”

  But that’s it, isn’t it? 

  As Eddie heads over to the counter to pay, the reminder of the bet makes the lemon in your stomach sour, any sweetness overpowered.  

  Maybe it was all just a game to Steve still. Maybe your walls had been genuinely crumbling, but maybe that was just because Steve Harrington had expert precision on delivering his blows to it. 

  You haven’t looked him in the eye the entire shift. 

  It was bad enough, that when you got dropped off by Eddie, you hopped out of his van wearing a cherry red sundress and only gave a short smile to him when he said hi. A ‘fine’ when he asked how your head was. 

  You’d nodded as you slipped the green vest over your dress, intently listening while Robin filled you in on everything the pair accomplished all morning. 

  He worked harder than he has ever for Keith, so you and him wouldn’t have much to do other than deal with the late night shipment arriving. 

  But you found things to do. 

  The front window displays were cleaned, windows thoroughly scrubbed, then reset. The dollar rental bin reorganized, new movies added to fill the gaps. You dusted shelves, you filed paperwork that had already been filed. And every time he tried to ask you a question, to talk, you gave bare minimum answers, keeping your eyes off of him.

  Maybe, last night, you were only wearing his sweatshirt because it was the first thing you saw, a coincidence. Maybe, you were awake when he kissed your cheek, and you really didn’t like it. Maybe…

  Maybe he’s read this entire week completely wrong. 

  Maybe you’re really never going to give him a chance. 

  He swallows, restocking candy, fingers lingering on the M&M’s, desperate for comfort food, to over analyze and annoy Robin about this all night and make her tell him it’s fine. Plenty of fish in the sea. Just keep being yourself. 

  Steve grabs the phone and looks over at you walking down the horror aisle, checking things on a clipboard he’s already checked. 

  “Hey,” he calls out.

  You ignore him.

  He huffs as he leans onto the counter, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear, watching you as he loudly says, “Yeah, hi, this is Steve Harrington. I’m calling in regards to my manager, maybe you know her?”

  You look up at him for the first time the entire shift, frowning. He keeps going.

  “Yeah, she seems to not have come into work today? This girl who won’t look me in the eyes and barely speaks to me has replaced her and I’d do anything to get the real her back, even if she’s yelling at me about her precious Red Vines.”

  You roll your eyes and walk past the counter, into the back room. 

  Steve frowns at the open door, slamming the phone down as he does. He stomps into the semi-office-semi-break room to find you starting to run the coffee pot through a cleaning cycle.

  “That’s it!” He stands with his hands on his hips as your shoulders jump. “What did I do this time?”

  “What?” You spin to face him, crossing your arms over your dress, which only serves to torture him with the way it emphasizes the low cut of it.  

  “What do you mean what? You know what I’m talking about! You won’t look me in the eye, you won’t talk to me! Baby, what could I have possibly done in the time you were sleeping or before you got here to upset you?”

  “I-“

  Steve steps closer to you, running a hand through his hair, before talking loudly with his hand hitting his palm to emphasize each point, “I worked my ass off all morning to impress you, like an idiot! I-I thought, last night…” He waves his hands around, shaking the thought away as he continues to get closer, to only speak louder, “I deserve the cold shoulder most days, I get it, you hate me, for whatever reason, but after last night, I’d like to think that-“

  “What you deserve, is nothing,” you scoff, taking your own step closer, skin too warm in the badly ventilated back room, skin already sticky with sweat. 

  “Excuse me?” He asks, incredulous. 

  It’s too hot back here. Your chest heaves, he watches a bead of sweat travel down your throat. 

  “You don’t deserve anything just because you did your job, congratulations by the way, on being a normal, functioning human being,” you add sarcastically before continuing, “And you especially don’t deserve anything because you were a little worried about me last night, Harrington!”

  “A little? A little?! Honey, I’ve never been more scared in my life!” He shouts, hands gesturing to your forehead while you have the nerve to scowl harder at his words.

  “Oh, I’m sure, Steve, that a cut to my forehead is the most scared you’ve ever been. It has nothing to do with the big three hundred dollar question hanging in the air does it?!”

  Your bodies are close together, both of you glaring at each other as your voices only get louder. There’s a buzz in the room, a hum, like your bodies are charged, ready to strike. 

  “The bet?! That’s what you’re upset about? When are you going to get it in your stubborn-“

  “I’m not stubborn! You’re stubborn!” 

  Steve scoffs, eyes looking at your lips as the tips of his shoes touch yours, “Seriously? You’re unbelievable, I…I…” 

  “I hate you!” You shove at his chest, blinking rapidly at how close his nose is to yours. 

  He yells, not that angry, “I despise you!”

  “I detes-“

  His lips collide with yours, swallowing the words you don’t really mean. 

  Steve Harrington is kissing you.

  And you’re kissing him back. 

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[justpeaxchy]

I must say I love your httyd headcanons. I would like to place a request. about a headcanon about Hiccup and a sad reader What would Hiccup do to cheer him up?

A/n: Hello! Thank you so much <3, I hope this is another enjoyable read for you! Warnings: mention of insecurities, reader is kind of distant at first.

'Let me love you.'

Right away, Hiccup would notice something is bothering you. I mean, c'mon, he's Hiccup - he's very observant.

If you were one to put on a fake smile whenever you're not feeling great, he'd definitely notice that too. He's been around you long enough to know what your genuine smile looks like.

So, if he sees you in this mood, he's gonna be gentle in his approach, but still very much concerned and wanting to help you right away - for whatever it might be.

If he has to wait for you to be comfortable enough to share, he'll be willing to be patient for you - but it's only a matter of time before he'll start asking again. He wants to try and help you in the best way he can.

He'll notice you're not talking as much throughout the day, questioningly gazing at you to silently ask you what was wrong - even though you avoided most of those looks. Finally, too concerned for his own good, he'll pull you aside to ask outrightly why you're not in the best mood.

"Are you sure you're okay? You haven't been talking much today, and I haven't seen you smiling a lot either lately. What's wrong?" He spoke gently, not wanting to appear demanding.

You folded your arms, not looking at him in the eyes. "I don't have to be smiling all day, Hiccup." You heard him sigh, barely glancing at him as you saw him brush his hair out of his face.

"I know, I know, but.. it's unlike you to be acting this way." He paused, considering his next words before continuing, "Listen, if you need more time to yourself for whatever's bothering you, I won't stop you. But please don't leave me hanging for too long. You're too important to me for me to just.. ignore whatever's going on with you."

He'll constantly be checking on you throughout the day, or perhaps week, if it's something occupying your thoughts for a longer period of time. He's not too subtle about wanting to know what's making you this way, but he tries to be as respectful to your boundaries as much as possible.

Once you're ready to share with him, he'll listen to every word you have to say, making sure he doesn't interrupt you with any unnecessary comment (if it was about someone else making you feel this way.)

He'll let you cry it out if you needed to, despite that he felt a little awkward at first, but he pushes through that for your sake. He never really got that type of comfort a lot, so he did his best to bring some form of relief to you during your time of distress.

Now, if it was another person who did this to you and he knows them on Berk, best believe that this man is gonna confront them about it - in his own Hiccup way.

If it's something personal you're dealing with, like an insecurity or something that's happened to you in the past, he'll sit there and talk you through it. He knows what it's like to have insecurities, so he uses some of his experiences to encourage you that they aren't something to be looked down upon.

"Look, those things are not gonna change anything. That won't change how I see you. I'm still going to love you through it just like you did for me, so, will you let me?"

Either way, he is. You can't stop him.

Gifts. He'll bring you small little trinkets or things he knows you like.

Flowers, unique little rocks he found (especially if you collect rocks), sketches of the things you like, etc.

Overall, he's a little unsure of what to do at first, but once he has his mind set on helping you get better, there's no getting rid of him until that's accomplished.

------------------------------------------

[shaisuki]

"i'm protecting you."

you scoff at him with tears threatening to spill from your eyes. throwing the hoodie in the couch and the embarrassment seeps through your whole being, remembering the earlier dilemma rin bestowed to you.

"protecting me? are you out of your mind?! that man hadn't done anything to me!"

"yet. a little gratitude from you wouldn't hurt." he quips at you. removing his coat and hangs it.

"gratitude? do you think you deserve it from what you'd done, rin?" your voice raising a bit at him and rin only gives you a side eye glance with a raised brow.

"i sure deserve it, I did it for you and you should be grateful for it. no one but me will ever be able to protect you from harm's way."

"what the fuck you talking about rin? harm? that's it? i sure don't need protecting. i'm a fucking adult rin!" you snapped at him. you can't believe sometimes at rin. his reasonings and outbursts at things are a little over and it ends up hurting you without him realizing.

now, you were being stubborn and as much he don't want to use the word. you were being a bitch but he doesn't say it aloud. he knew how much the word weigh and being the stable and the reasonable one in the relationship, he's going to give you a piece of his mind.

that includes pinning you in the couch. his body hovering above yours and his hand squishing the cheek, putting enough pressure to hear him out.

"you're an adult. a oblivious one. i'm telling you right now. you're the unreasonable one. what would you do if he continued touching you or did you want him to continue? tell me." he firmly says. challenging you and the tone of his voice it was condescending. as if it was telling you, you were the immature one in the relationship and you need from protection in which he thinks.

you can't believe what you were hearing coming from him. staring at those teal-colored eyes of his who swirls with coldness and seriousness that there's no care for you in those gaze of his.

"no." defending yourself from his accusations at you. "why would i like him touching me and..." your words dying out and you can't find yourself to defend your point. mind becoming jumbled and conflicted. you tried to find your voice and with rin looking at you like you were the biggest mistake of his life.

the tears came rolling and it wouldn't stop. his expression seems to soften. you were helpless sometimes and naive. not knowing how many filthy fuckers had tried to make a move for you and you should be glad. you have him. itoshi rin. your boyfriend who would gladly burn the world if it means to protect you.

"i told you so. i'm just protecting you." he coos at you. caressing your cheek with his thumb.

well, he got point. a voice in your head told you. he's right, you were being unreasonable. too oblivious to pick up what things may come to you. be it to bring peace of harm to you and rin was just protecting you. in his own little ways.

"i'm sorry." you began to apologize to him. holding his hand in your cheek. the tears continuously falls and breaking out in sobs.

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry.i'm sorry.i'm sorry." you repeated like a broken record. begging for his forgiveness. the tears blurring out your vision.

rin's cold but he's no heartless. deciding you earned his forgiveness. he comforts you that only can him do to you. letting you cry yourself out until it reduces to hiccups and sobs.

pulling you closer to his and placing your head to his chest. wiping the dried tears in your round cheeks. his fingers drawing patterns in your back.

"i'm sorry, rin."

"ssh. it's fine now, okay? you're forgiven."

kissing your forehead and rin's assured. you won't be doing anything to upset him. maybe. just make sure he's around to correct you.

[xetlynn]

IMAGINES- Carlisle Cullen

It’s Okay

Requested

(This is placed in the 1850s obviously this is fictional not everything is correct but I tried and this is also my first time writing for an earlier year set. But I hope everyone enjoys. I did my own spin on it but this is in which Carlisle can’t control himself around [Name] due to her being his blood singer.)

Masterlist

Carlisle moved again. Trying to find a better lifestyle, the last place got too sunny.

Now being in New York in the winter time for now until he figures out a better place, other than going to the freezing places.

He’s been exhausted, just wanting a better life, or what ever he can get being what he is.

“Doctor!? Is anyone a doctor?!” A woman shouted, desperately on the look out. Her face was in a frantic expression.

“My brother! Please!” She cries out, hovering over a teenage boy on the ground obviously turning blue. Carlisle’s eyes widen, looking around to see if anyone was going to help, instead people stared.

They crowded but did nothing but help shout for a doctor. He was just moving into his apartment.

He wasn’t expecting to already be putting his skills to use by being a doctor. He was still trying to find an office to build into his own.

But of course he quickly raises a hand half way, moving fast through the crowd.

“I’m a doctor!” He gets to the ground with the boy and woman, immediately getting hit with a strong smell of blood.

His nostrils flair but he tries to push the feeling back.

“What-“ He clears his throat. “What happened?” He needs to know before he does anything.

“He- I um, I’m sorry I don’t know. I walked away and came back to him struggling to breathe.” The woman tries to calm herself, hiccuping as tears fell down her face.

Not even noticing the fact that the man in front of her was struggling to contain himself around her blood.

“Okay,” He lays his head down on the boys chest, still hearing a faint heart beat.

Carlisle didn’t need to do that but if anyone was watching and knew what he was doing it was necessary.

He breathes out heavily, starting to push down on the boys chest, his one hand in a slight fist and the other laid on top.

Doing it for a while before pinching his nose and blowing air into his mouth.

Repetitively doing it until the boy gasps for air, coughing roughly.

Moaning from the pain in his chest.

Carlisle stands up, letting the lady hug her brother.

The crowd cheers, calling Carlisle a hero as the lady cries, cradling the teenager. The wind hits them and her hair flows out causing the young man to smell it stronger.

His nose burns in agony. It’s becoming too hard to resist and as the lady turns to thank him he’s already disappeared.

He rushes up to his apartment, opening the door like a mad man, slamming it right behind him as well. He grabs the wall, confused on what just happened.

Not understanding the pain he just went through.

Blood has always been a constant battle to fight off, not wanting to put humans in pain.

This.

This was different.

It was like her blood was special. Her blood hurt him in a good way.

The smell was so enticing.

He needed it. But he couldn’t it’s wrong. It’s against his morals.

He knew if he started drinking he wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d kill her just for a taste. He stiffens at the thought, he shakes his head, trying to stop it.

Stop all the thoughts of killing her from happening.

And just a week and a half later, as he thought he forgot about it all.

A week and a half later as he got his new Doctor’s office, getting it ready to open there she was.

Wearing a white dress and light pink details. She strolls down the walkway, he hoped he stayed across the street.

He practically begged any sort of God to keep her away.

It looks like God was against him.

“Sir?” She shouted, squinting her eyes as she made her way towards Carlisle. He glances at her and she waves her hand.

“It is you!” She breathily giggles, jogging across the street after looking both ways on the rocky road. “Hello, ma’am.” He politely smiles.

Trying to hold his breath, mainly towards his nose.

“Oh just call me [Name]. Ma’am is so aging! Anyways, I’ve been trying to find you for days!” Her eyes twinkle as she grins ear to ear.

“What ever for?” He jokes, he knows what it’s for.

“You’re the one who saved my brother are you not?” Her face dropped suddenly, now embarrassed thinking she got the wrong man.

He swallows thickly, her smell affecting him already.

“I am, sorry. Just jokes.” He says in a worried manner.

“Oh,” She laughs it off.

“My mind is scattered, apologies.” She sighs, she goes to step closer but he steps back as her smell is too strong.

“I wanted to thank you…” She waits for his name, Carlisle’s busy talking to himself to not attack her right in front of everyone.

“Carlisle.” He finally spits out, her eyes widen. “That’s a beautiful name.” [Name] compliments, completely oblivious to the man who’s extremely uncomfortable looking like he’s constipated from the pain of resisting her.

“I better get going ma- [Name]. It was lovely bumping into you.” Carlisle quickly speaks, trying to get into the building before she speaks again.

“Wait, could I take you out to eat sometime. As a true thank you.” She places a hand on his shoulder, he sucks in air, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Hissing under his breath quietly, his body tensed tremendously and she takes her hand back.

He calms himself down, building his demeanor back up, turning to smile at the girl.

“Well, I’m quite busy at the moment.” He offers a sad smile to which her shoulders drop but she still manages to attempt a smile back.

Wanting to be understanding but any form of rejection hurts. He observes every movement she makes too.

“Oh, I understand.” She forces a smile, about to turn to leave.

“I hope nothing stresses you too much, Dr. Carlisle.” She sweetly tells him. He watches as she goes to walk across the street, waiting for two carriages to pass. He mentally curses to what he’s about to do.

“Wait, I… I’m not busy tomorrow.” He informs her and her body freezes before turning to him with a smile.

“Meet me here at noon.” She tells Carlisle before crossing the road once again.

That night he was met with a letter on his desk in his room. He furrows his brows in confusion but still picks it up.

Its address from Aro.

Carlisle glances around the room, nothing was out of order. Nothing changed.

He obviously knew how he got in but it was still unsettling.

He wrote Aro yesterday, he wasn’t expecting something so soon but he knew how the Volturi was.

He’s not stupid.

It read:

“Dearest Carlisle,

You want to know what you are experiencing? That draw to the poor woman’s blood? She’s your blood singer. Your personal blood bank just for you. Addictive thing she’ll be. You’ll suck the life out of that poor girl. It’s out of your control. It’s bound to happen… Unless you can control yourself enough to turn her, knowing you, you wouldn’t want her to be in pain though. So thoughtful of you. Always so thoughtful, Carlisle.

Aro”

Carlisle rereads the letter over and over again. Getting angrier and angrier.

Some help he is.

“Why did I even think that was a good idea?” He whispers to himself.

The next day at noon, Carlisle amps up, he needs to learn to control himself around [Name].

Knowing for a fact it’s not going to be easy to get her out of his life.

He stands outside, hands behind his back as he waits for the young lady.

He glimpses up at sky, seeing the clouds getting darker. It’s about time for a storm.

“Hey!” A voice yells, he puts his head back down and sees [Name] holding her dress so she can run up to Carlisle.

“Sorry! My brother needed help with school work.” She tells him, slightly out of breath, still holding a smile nonetheless.

He tries to hold back a smile, nodding his head.

“It’s quite alright. Where shall we be going today?” He offers his arm to the girl, not even a hesitation, [Name] grabs ahold of it.

“I was thinking we could eat by the water, a picnic if you will.” She giggles like a teenager.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” He compliments, and the two go to the store. [Name] talks Carlisle’s head off, all about thanking him and how he’s a hero to the town.

Everyone will be switching their doctors to him once he opens up his office. Updating him about her brother.

As he struggles to keep his composure. Sometimes he can handle it, other times he suffers when she gets a little bit too close.

It’s somehow worth it for him though. He feels oddly attached to the woman he just met.

Getting things for the picnic they went to a near by pond.

They even bought a blanket for the occasion and by they I mean Dr. Carlisle Cullen.

As he sets it up, [Name] patiently waits, observing the man.

How perfect he was, like he was created by God himself who took his time with him.

She enjoyed the way he looked.

She felt lucky to be in his presence.

Even though her brother kept telling her how cold his touch was, and even she felt odd about it but he saved her brother. He was good and that’s all that mattered to her.

Carlisle stands up, taking his hat off to wipe his forehead.

He goes to put the hat back on but [Name] stops him. “I would like to see your face.” She takes it from him, placing it on her own head with a laugh.

“Let’s feast!” She plops down, her dress puffing up from the air caught in it.

He carefully sits across from her, admiring the woman who got into the fruit first.

“It’s not fair that I don’t get to see your face now.” Carlisle smirks, flicking the hat off of her.

She watches as it lands beside her and she smiles to herself.

“How old are you?” She suddenly asks, popping a grape into her mouth.

“23,” He answers, clasping his hands together. “What about you? How old might you be?” He takes one of the grapes from her hands.

“A man should never ask how old a woman is.” She teasingly tells him.

“My apologies, ma’am.” He purposely pronounces ‘ma’am’ prominently. [Name] gasps, throwing a grape at him as he laughs.

“Ouch, how rude.” He takes the grape, showing it to her before eating it. She scrunches her nose at him. Then gets quiet.

“I’m 22.” She smiles sweetly.

“22, no husband?” Carlisle boldly asks, and once it’s out of his mouth he goes to apologize but instead is found with her signature giggle.

“No, no husband. Not yet at least. I’ve been waiting until I found the one I guess you could say.” She eats a strawberry, not looking him in the eyes.

“You’ll find him soon.” He sits up straighter, she nods her head. “I hope so.”

Throughout the picnic they talk, messing with each other as they joke about the people they see or the animals that pass by. [Name] offers food to some of the animals.

And soon that smell that was bothering Carlisle seemed to be in the back of his mind.

Until they were skipping rocks and stuck in the rocks was a broken glass bottle they didn’t notice.

[Name] clumsily cutting herself. She hissing, holding her hand like a baby.

Carlisle covers his nose with his sleeve, holding it tightly. Turning away from him.

“Hey, Doctor.” She huffs out. “Yes?” He squints his eyes, trying not to grunt from the uncomfortableness.

“I need a little help here.” She chuckles but then hisses again from the pain.

“Right, follow me.” He guides her to their picnic. He rips an end of the blanket.

Biting the inside of his mouth as he holds her wrist to show him her hand. His nostrils flare as he inhales the scent of her blood outside of her body now.

Wanting to bring it up to his mouth.

She looks away as he inspects the cut before tightly wrapping it.

“I have to get you to my office. I have supplies that will help.” He insists, she looks up at him. “It’s bad?” She frowns.

“It needs stitches.” He nods his head, letting go of her hand and quickly cleaning their picnic area up before taking her to the office which is only a block away from the pond they found.

She hums to herself to calm down. Only wincing in pain when she moves her arm a little bit too much.

He frustratedly opens the door to his office. Restricting himself from attacking her in broad daylight and now having to do it with them alone. “Sit on that counter.” He orders, to which she follows, using one of the near by chairs to get herself up.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters.

“What are you sorry for, love?” He asks, trying to sound as soothing as possible as he gathers his things to clean her off and stitch up the problem.

“You seem agitated… I’m sure this is not what you wanted to deal with on your non busy day.” [Name] apologetically explains to him.

“I don’t mind it. This is what I do for a living.” He shrugs it off, now bringing the tray of things over to her.

Setting it down beside her. He looks down at the wrap and hesitantly takes it off.

The smell hits his nose and he grips the cloth in his hand that has her blood on it.

He makes a low growl like noise and [Name] furrows her eyebrows. He quietly apologizes and moves away from her.

“I can’t do this.” He mumbles into his sleeve, dropping the cloth.

“You can’t do your job?” She questions.

“I can’t do my job on you.” He turns around, his eyes piercing into hers.

“I’m sorry?” She tenses up, holding her hand to her chest.

“Your blood, it’s strong, [Name]. It’s strong and it hurts.” He cries out, holding his head as he backs away from him.

“My blood is strong? What is wrong with you?” She asks, getting up from the counter and going to touch him but her pushes her hand back.

“Stop.” He groans, he backs into a wall.

“You’re scaring me Carlisle acting in pain like this.” She worriedly watches him fight with himself.

“I need you to get out of here and never come back.” He sternly tells her. She doesn’t move, her body frozen in mixed emotions.

“[Name] do you hear me? Get out!” He points to the door.

“I can’t. You’re in pain! Let me help!” She steps closer to him and in a swift movement she’s not against the counter.

“I told you to leave.” He huffs loudly.

“I can’t fight it, I’m sorry.” He grips onto her.

“It’s okay.” She assures him. Touching his face with her bloodied hand.

His fangs come down and her eyes widen, but weirdly she’s not scared of him.

“It’s okay.” She says again.

“I could turn you. You don’t know me. I don’t want you apart of this.” He cries, no tears come down his face but his voice breaks in hurt.

“It’s okay.” Is all she says.

“I don’t need to know you to know I need you to be mine.” She quietly tells him, and finally after all the restrictions he’s put himself on, his teeth sunk into her skin.

The pain was quick like a pinch.

Requested by: @nephitis

[longlivedelusion]

Bit O' Swing

Bucky x Reader / No use of Y/N / Drabble

Summary: You've been begging Bucky to teach you some 40s dances for a while now, and he finally gave in. Little hint of Sam and Steve commentary too 😏

Warnings: Fluffy, no warnings. Some insecurity but that's it.

A/N: had a dream last night that Bucky literally taught me how to 40s dance so this is how this came to life. Woke up and was like "write that down, write that down!!!" And so I did. Enjoy this little drabble that's definitely just been written at like 7am.

Masterlist

Bucky's hand slipped around your waist, slightly hesitant at first. His other hand moved to yours and he pulled you in.

"Uh- yeah- so you just follow my lead and uh- feel the music. We'll take it slow." Bucky said, the sound of 40s music blaring around the room.

~

"You think he's gonna trip before even getting a step out?" Sam said low to Steve, a small smirk on his face as he leaned back against the couch watching the whole thing play out.

Steve's eyes stayed on his best friend and his dance partner, "Bucky was always a hell of a dancer. He got a lot of girls that way, so I think he'll be fine."

Sam snorted, "Yeah, but you see who he's dancing with?" Sam vaguely gesturing in your direction.

Steve smiled. "You may have a point there."

~

Bucky started off slow, despite the fast music. He lightly pulled on my body to show where he was going, matching the beat but slower. "See, you gotta swing your hips a bit this way, and your feet will uh-" He tripped, quickly collecting himself. "Shit, sorry, they'll kind of move this way but faster."

I smiled, easily mirroring Bucky's movements, "Like this?"

He nodded, "Yeah, yeah that's perfect." He then slipped his hand from my waist but kept one hand on mine. "Then you, we, usually dance like this where I'll kind of swing you around and pull you in, and kinda repeat that. Any of this makin' any sense?"

I followed his movements, watching the pattern and beat he was talking about. "Yeah, it's all makes sense. Keep going."

"Great, okay, yeah so you move your feet like this when we're out-" he started to show the movements before losing his grip a bit on me. "Shit, sorry, maybe I'm not actually the best to show you this." He stopped his movements.

"You're doing great James." I slow down with him, eyes trying to meet his. I gently squeezing his hand. "I think I'm getting it down, keep going."

He nodded, quickly glancing at me. "I swear I'm a good dancer. Just been'a while."

"I know you are. I can tell. Just relax, ok? This is just some fun." I nudge him encouragingly.

He let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, right. Okay." He pulled me back in and swung me out, his feet moving still slower than the beat to show me the movements.

I noticed the pattern and looked back up. "Can we try it a bit faster?"

He nodded before taking me through the motions, now on time. I could really tell good a dancer he was despite his earlier little hiccups, his body matching pace of the song easily. He was a bit tense, like he always was, but had this definite groove to him. Like it was built into his body.

And despite his nerves, he was a damn good lead.

He pulled me forward, eyes never leaving mine as he twisted back and forth, my movements following his. It was like a wave, pushing and pulling before eventually his hand would find my waist again. Just for a second, two, moving me across the floor before leaving again.

Slowly the nerves seemed to fade.

I started to add my own groove to it too, swinging my hips back and forth, feeling him spin me around as I came back. I could see his body started to relax and the way his lips went from a thin line of concentration to eventually a small smile.

"You're pretty good at this." Bucky said, pulling me back in and keeping me there for longer than usual.

"I had a good teacher." I smiled back.

"Yeah, well looks like the student definitely passed the master." He spinned me out.

I laughed as I swung out and then felt him tug me back in. I moved in closer at the swing in, not pulling away as I held on a big smile. "Maybe I could show you a few tricks then."

Who knew the ex-assassin could blush.

[lesbojournals]

Drunken Crafts (Stucky x Reader)

It was a painfully average day in your house, Steve and Bucky off at Avengers headquarters doing god knows what while you lounged around. You had already cleaned the whole house to entertain yourself: the vacuuming was done, the bathrooms were spotless, all of the laundry and dishes were clean and put away. You had even started dinner, cooking a beef stew with vegetables in the pressure cooker.

What else, truly, was there to do?

You felt like Rapunzel in the beginning of Tangled–you had already read a book this morning, you took a shower, you even clipped the cat’s claws!

You pattered around the house, convinced nothing would entertain you at this point, until your eyes landed on Bucky’s bottle of Tennessee Whiskey.

You glanced back and forth, almost nervous to be caught sauntering over to the bottle. You shyly took it and brought it over to the kitchen, where you mixed it with some sweet tea you had made earlier.

You took a sip and sighed happily, bringing both the bottle and the tea to the living room where you planned on watching some youtube.

As the drink became more empty, new ideas sprung into your head. You decided to get out all of your crafting tools, deciding on making both Bucky and Steve a masterpiece. After another drink or two, you couldn't remember, you abandoned the crafts and decided hey, what better time than now to bake some cookies? It'd be a fun dessert after having your stew.

With that, you skipped off to the kitchen, drink in hand, to bake. At one point you decided to take off your pants, after all, they weren't your sweats and you didn't want to dirty them. The same thought did not occur about the XXL Avengers logo tee you had on.

You turned on your favorite happy music, bouncing around eating raw cookie dough from the wooden mixing spoon.

The music was so loud that you didn't hear Bucky and Steve enter. You were too distracted making cookies that you forgot you not only had music on, but youtube as well, and a mess of crafts in the living room.

Steve confusingly walked up the stairs as Bucky took off his shoes, unsure of why there was so much loud noise throughout the house.

“Beautiful?” He called, and his eyes softened immediately at the sight of you.

He stopped in his footsteps, leading Bucky to catch up and hastily go “Is everything okay, Stevie?”

Steve pointed at you, dancing obnoxiously with cookie batter in your hands, and Bucky sighed in adoration, before noticing that you had no pants on.

He practically bolted up the rest of the stairs, and you caught his eye as he fully entered the kitchen with a “Buck!!”

“What're you doing honey?” He asked, looking around the floor of the apartment to see your mess.

“Baking cookies!!” You happily answered, swaying back and forth with a giggle.

Before Bucky could comment Steve brought his attention. “Looks like someone got to your liquid gold, honey.” He held up the now empty whiskey bottle.

Bucky stared at the bottle with wide eyes, then turned back to you.

“Is something wrong?” You laughed, throwing your cookies in the oven (quite literally-you didn't realize how aggressive you were being).

Bucky smiled along with Steve, and grabbed you from behind. “Nothing, we just love you.”

“I love you both too!!” You said with a hiccup, then you remembered. “Oh wait !! I have a gift for you two!!”

You ran off to the living room, while Steve turned off the very loud music. They both followed you in, eyes nearly bulging out of their heads at the mess you made.

You didn't notice their look, instead holding up a large piece of card stock full of collage, stickers, and drawings. It said “DrAwINg fOr My SoULmaTeS” in letters from various magazines.

It was frankly a mess and didn't make any sense, but Steve took it in his hands anyway. Him and Bucky were silent.

You started tearing up. “You hate it!!”

Bucky rushed to your side, cooing. “No, no, darling. It's beautiful.”

“This is fridge worthy.” Steve announced, and you smiled giddily.

With a loud ding! your attention was immediately averted, deciding to shout (in Bucky’s ear none the less) “MY STEW!!”

You tried to run to the kitchen but Bucky caught you. “Why don't you let Stevie and I worry about dinner. You relax.”

You pouted, not thrilled with this decision that both of your boys seemed set on.

By the time they came back to you with a dinner plate in hand you were passed out on the couch, drooling all over the couch pillow. Bucky put your plate in the fridge and Steve picked you up, cautiously bringing you to the bedroom.

You blabbered on about something in your drunken sleep haze, repeatedly telling Steve “I love you, I love Bucky, You guys are my favorite.” and so on.

“I know darling,” Steve smiled. “We love you too.”

How did you get so lucky?

[kyraisdead]

Drunken Tears - Copia X Reader

“You’re fine,” Copia muttered, carefully trying to lead you back to your bedroom. His voice was soft; softer than you’d ever heard that high pitch.

It was one of the things they’d admired about you; usually, you were much quicker, both mentally and physically, than Copia could ever hope to be.That was, until the liquor had gotten switched with the wine at the post-ritual meal. You’d had… how many glasses now? He’d guess at least four, judging by the way you swayed as you walked.”Shh. No, just follow me.” You had your hand against your face, a migraine undoubtedly coming after you, only getting worse as you stumbled and hiccupped. He wasn’t a fan of dealing with drunks, but there was something undeniably charming about the way you giggled as the wave of pain ended, as you mumbled his name and tried to grab onto his hand, which he quickly snatched away. Not his to hold, he told himself.

You weren’t just not his partner. You were Secondo’s; quick, sweet, uncomfortably young compared to the man who was bordering sixty. It was no secret you were unhappy sitting by his older brother, holding onto his arm, silently begging for his attention while he looked at some other Sibling. He wished that he was more confident; more willing to whisk you away and show you how much love you truly deserved, but what could he do?

He winced as you gagged again, leaning over a trash bin and coughing up the pitifully small amount you had left in your stomach. He placed his hand on your back, gently rubbing it in hopes to soothe you as you cried out from the pain. Where was Secondo, anyway? Probably splayed out in his bed, with or without some new, unsuspecting Sister.

“Oh, cara mia,” he murmured as you stood shakily, leaning against him, your legs too weak to carry yourself anymore. “Where do we go now?” he sighed, wiping the drying saliva from the corner of your mouth. Even when intoxicated and ill, you were more beautiful than anything his mind could ever hope to imagine. How his heart ached for you.

You sniffed, unconsciously grabbing onto the edge of his coat, shoving your head against his chest as you choked out a sob. You’d been drinking more often lately, having never used to drink. It made it all the more concerning for him. Copia let out a shuddering sigh, biting back another pang of envy as he felt your desperate hold on his body. He knew he should’ve said something; stopped you before you had so much that you went from giggly and clingy to puking your guts out, a shadow of the person he knew you to be. “I know,” he mumbled weakly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and guiding you to the bed as he slowly entered your bedchamber. This was not what you needed; drinking yourself into a frenzy until your stomach could no longer hold it in. This wasn’t you.

You glanced around the room; your old bedroom, the one you’d slept in before getting involved with Secondo. You sat down carefully, gripping the covers as you did so.  The room was warm but near-barren, most of your possessions now scattered about his brother’s room. Some items remained, of course; old clothing you kept as a just-in-case, the cheap Ministry-issued sheets and pillows. Enough to sleep somewhat comfortably, or just pass out. "No..." you murmured. "Where's Secondo?"

Copia’s grip on your arm tightened, and he averted his eyes. So he was right, then; either asleep, or off with some other Sibling of Sin he’d gotten drunk and used. “He’s busy,” he replied slowly, sitting down next to you. He didn’t want to say the words out loud; it was hard enough hearing them in his mind, over and over. “You’re stuck with me for tonight, cara,” he added with a sigh.

The room was silent for a moment as you considered. "I... okay," you muttered shakily. He knew you loved him. Secondo had done a wonderful job at making you think he loved you, too, only to steal away all of his affection when you’d already become attached. "I wish he wouldn't," hic, "work so late."

How blind Secondo was. A beautiful, smart, and good Sibling of Sin like you, begging for his attention, and he didn’t even bother to glance in your direction half the time. He didn’t deserve you. Anyone could see that. He didn’t deserve your love, your affection, your everything. You were too good for him; too kind, too caring. Secondo didn’t even think about you; only himself. “He’s… preoccupied,” he sighed, trying to find a word that wouldn’t make you cry again.

You let my head loll to the side, resting on his shoulder. "Mm. I wish he was not busy more," you told him shakily. "I-I know he works hard... but he used to be free more often."

Copia bit back the bitterness in his throat, forcing himself to focus on the drunken, clingy mess that was you. You weren’t his, no matter how much he wished you were. “I know,” he mumbled, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, keeping you close. He kept quiet, knowing the doubt would be clear in his words if he chose to speak them. 

"He loves me!" you tell him. "I know he does. He told me so. I hate when everyone looks at me like he doesn't; you just don't know him," you sniffed, voice shaky, as if you were trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.

Copia’s stomach twisted. No, he doesn’t, he wanted to say, but you believed that Second loved you, and he wasn’t strong enough to tell you the truth. So instead, he just let out a quiet sigh, rubbing your shoulders gently. “I know, bella,” he said quietly. “I know he does.” He didn’t, but to tell you that would break your fragile heart into even smaller pieces than Secondo already had. Swallowing thickly, he gently pushed you down onto the bed, caressing your cheek as he pulled the blanket over you. “Just rest.”

[iconocon]

what about me | verstappen

⚔︎ ✧ (short)

there he was.

a wet max verstappen stood in the doorframe of your apartment smelling like the mini-bar of a cheap hotel and it was not a good look on him. your eyes went from the bird's nest of a hair on his head to the dark wine-red half-smudged lipstick stain on his white collared shirt to the belt around his waist that was left on one notch too big.

"i didn't know where else to go"

"why would you come here"

"i needed you please don't make me go home"

you hated him. hated that he always knew exactly what to say to suck you in, to forgive him for the stupid shit he does but your heart was too big to kick the wet beaten-down puppy anymore so with a big sigh you stepped backward allowing him into the hallway.

"max"

you two knew each other well enough by this point that he automatically tried reaching to take off his wet black dress shoes but I'm sure the rain mixed with the cheap vodka was too much for him and he went tumbling to the wooden floor in a mess. if anything your patience with him was wearing thin and with one glance into your living you would see the big clock above your sofa laying out the time of 3:25 in the morning. so slowly getting down to his height you reached for one foot while he reached for the other, of course, you managed it way before him and even chuckled at the frustrated look on his face as he struggled with the knot he himself made which did all but distract his gaze to your face. the way he stared at you was unnerving, as if he wanted to say something so bad but didn't have the guts to do it and that probably scared you the most because if he of all people was scared to say something it was not something you wanted to hear.

"come"

before you could even say no or turn down the offer the man himself nudged your knee out from underneath you with just his foot laying you flat on ur butt/the wet footprints he made himself minutes before.

"what the fu-"

"i don't know who i am anymore" he interrupted and before you could say anything he stopped you with a hand on your knee as he stared mindlessly with glazed-over eyes into your beige wallpaper abyss of a hallway, "I'm not happy not at home, not on the track, I don't know how to make it okay again" you wanted to reach out and touch him but every time your fingers moved closer to his body he shifted around them so he was just so out of reach which at this point should have been a normal occurrence for you but it still didn't stop the pain in your chest. "i went out and i did what the guys wanted, i drank and drank, and i danced with some girl who only liked me fo-" the hiccup stopped he sentence but the lipstick mark on his collar told the story for him. "i wanted to be okay just for one night" this time you didn't allow him to push his body away from you and instead sat shoulder to shoulder with him grabbing his damp head and pulling it down into your lap. as you ran your fingers through his hair you hummed a familiar song that you both loved as children even going as far to label it as ‘your song’.

max was a tough guy. growing up in the way in which he did he wasn't allowed the luxury of being a crazy teen or a child that could talk back to his parents. he was a prodigy meant to be something greater than all the other kids on the block and you saw it in him the moment you met on track. at that time you wanted to be something too, you wanted to be bigger than all the stars, but reality set in for you too young making you realize that you weren't cut out for the same dreams as your peers however that didn't stop you from being a selfish child then adult and keeping him.

your crush on max was visible from day one, he was all chubby bright pink cheeks and fury. you want to say the first time you realized your crush was the same day he yelled at pierre gasly (one of your now both good friends) for pushing you off track after he broke late in one of the corners making you cry your eyes out because you were finally able to compete for a podium. it was dumb and it was stupid but he was your savior even as children making sure to do everything he could to make you laugh even making himself look stupid to onlookers in restaurants by putting straws up his nose one day when you were sad your mom said you couldn’t have ice cream.

when he too grew up and left it was probably the hardest thing you had to go through because to you he was your peace, your home, but as a teen, it was hard for you to realize at the time that you weren't his. racing took your best friend away, and it was bittersweet because he was so good. he was better than you thought he was, and now your drunk sad best friend was a two-time world champion who could be recognized around the world. for fucks sake he raced in countries you could only dream of on a normal person's salary and even when it felt like you grew so far apart you knew he still needed you as he did now. you were the one person in the world he knew he could come to and cry and cry and do it again until he couldn't feel any more but yet maybe he didn't understand why that hurt you. why right now as he was laying in your arms you were so focused on the way his heart skipped a beat when he snored that your own heartbeat fell in tune with him.

you loved max verstappen and even though you could never be enough for him you selfishly hoped now as you did as children that he would always need you even if that meant waiting forever but, for now, you slept dreaming of what it could be like if maybe just maybe he did too.

⌯

AN

this is so short and probably bad but i was SAD and i might delete it idk i haven't written in so long but i have a few in the chamber anyway pls send prompts I love u!

[specterllaw]

Dad or Harvey - Dad! Harvey and Reader and Mike Ross x reader

You were scared, you sat in an interrogation room, your hands shaking so bad you couldn't even call your step-dad yourself, you had to have a deputy do it. You were taken in for suspected murder suspect and you weren't even sure why. Your dad was a big time name partner lawyer and he was a feared lawyer by alot of other firms in the city, your mom, Donna married him almost three years ago and you and Harvey had been at each other's throats ever since.

You could hear Harvey's shouts from the other side of the door and you immediately broke down, why'd you have to call him? He was gonna be livid at you. "How dare you speak with my client without me being present! I am her attorney and you will not pull this stunt again or I swear I will have your ass in front of a judge before you can even say murder!" You heard Harvey scream before the door swung open "Let's go" He demanded giving you a cold harsh glare, you nodded standing up quickly grabbing your phone from the deputy rushing out behind your step-dad, terrified of what would happen, you were freshly 18 so he could kick you out if he wanted to, you always felt like he hated you anyways. As you both sat in the back of the car you kept your eyes trained on your shoes "What the hell did you get yourself into, y/n?" He asked looking towards you, sniffling you looked at him, trying to make yourself as small as possible "I-I don't know....M-my classmate was killed..and they said I did it..-I didn't do it! I swear Harvey!" You whimpered going to grab his arm but you stopped yourself, in the three years of knowing Harvey you knew he never liked physical touch by anybody but your mother. It shocked you whenever Harvey wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug "It's gonna be okay, y/n" He whispered kissing your head before you felt the car stop "I'm gonna leave you with a close friend..his name is Mike Ross..He works for me he's gonna keep an eye out for you while I go get started on your defense okay?" Harvey explained opening the door before taking you to an apartment and leading you to the couch "Leave the door locked, only your mother, Mike and I have a key so you'll be safe until he's home" He said to you kissing your forehead before leaving quickly to his office.

It had been a week since Harvey started your case, you had been staying with Mike since then and you both were enjoying it alot, Harvey on the other hand was a mess, working basically days and nights. He now stood in front of his window in his office, trying to hold back tears, having to turn his back as he watched you talk with your mom and other people from the office, you slowly approached his office, walking up to him slowly but still keeping your distance "Harvey?.." You whispered slowly glancing over to see a file on his desk, opened with your name on it, and at the bottom in big bold letters 'Defendant must pay 420,000 dollars to vicitim's family and serve 35 years maximum in New York state prison'.

"I'm gonna be blamed for it aren't I?.." You whispered looking at him, he kept his eyes on the window taking a drink from his whiskey glass before taking a shaky breath in "Not if I can help it.." Harvey whispered, anger laced his voice but you could tell he was about to start crying "Dad...It's okay..You don't have to fight anymore..." You whispered "No...no...Y/n..no I'm going to fight this. You didn't do it and I'm going to make sure you don't go away for it." He said trying to keep his stern rude tone but it was cracking "Harvey.." You tried to argue but he turned towards you grabbing your shoulders "Its okay, y/n..You're gonna be okay" He whispered hugging you tightly before looking at you hiccuping a bit to suppress a sob, he rushed off, somewhere you didn't see leaving you alone in your dad's office.

"Hey stranger" You heard a familiar voice call out to you, you turned around smiling at him as he walked into the office "Hmmm...I dunno..You look pretty professional behind that desk Ms. Paulson" Mike smiled towards you acting like his hands were a camera "I told you Mr. Ross, ever since my mom married Harvey it's Ms. Specter" You reminded again walking over to him smiling "What's up? Ready to go?" You asked tilting your head whenever his expression and body language changed "Y/n..." He started rubbing his hands together "Oh god..Rachel doesn't want us sharing the apartment anymore does she?" You asked panicked, they had only been on one date but you respected Mike and Rachel. "N-No no..Sweet that you care though but I actually....stopped seeing her..I realized I liked someone else" Mike smiled looking at his shoes "Who?.." You asked smiling softly, Mike could only smile back, he could see the care in your eyes, and he knew he made the right choice. "Shit she's looking over right now" he gasped looking away, you did the same before fixing his hair, suit jacket, and tie before patting his chest "You look amazing, go talk to her" You offered motioning to the door "I am" He whispered looking at you nervously "Y/n..You're amazing...the way you care and love and appreciate so little and give so much-" You cut him off by kissing him softly cupping his cheeks "I like you too, Mike" You smiled pulling away before messing up his hair "Heyy! My friend just did that so I looked good talking to you" He defended trying to flatten his hair down "I like messy hair Mike instead" You whispered kissing him again, biting his bottom lip teasingly before pulling away. Mike brushed his hand over yours as Harvey walked back in "I know how we're gonna solve this cas- Mike. Y/n. What're you two doing?" He asked crossing his arms "Harvey..." You said defensively before he smirked at you "In my office kid? Really?" He asked raising his eyebrow towards Mike "I oughta kick your ass" Harvey added on before sitting down "So Y/n you were on the phone the time of the murder correct? So, how could you swing an aluminum baseball bat with one hand and murder someone with only one hand?" Harvey asked you "It'd be impossible...I read I don't work on my muscular physique" You commented looking at him in shock "You found it, dad" You whispered in shock, he smiled standing up giving you a tight hug "Now, You're gonna stay with Mike until the end of trial for your safety, and no funny busy or I swear to god, Mike" Harvey threatened as he rubbed your back feeling your body shake lightly with sobs, relieved you wouldn't have that weight on you anymore.

I'm definitely doing a part 2