#he's like if scene and e-boy had a baby | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sundrop-writes · 11 months ago

Text

Meddle About

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.

It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .

Summary:

You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.

Reid vastly overthinks it.

So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.

Word Count: 6,300

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.

A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work.

You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life.

But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation.

Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you.

But you weren’t needed on that front today.

No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated.

The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer.

He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks.

You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next.

Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving.

After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target.

(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.)

You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it.

Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information.

“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap.

When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else.

“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position.

It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.)

Speaking of which:

“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.”

Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation.

“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.”

You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously.

“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.”

Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way.

Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.

“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics.

“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console.

Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation.

“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply.

He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback.

You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off.

…

You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes.

So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves).

He was being far too quiet for your liking.

But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was.

You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all.

“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap.

“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said.

Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him.

Spencer felt the need to further explain himself.

“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his.

You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you.

Again, you found it so utterly adorable.

“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road.

You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off.

For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid.

(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.)

“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.”

Reid let out a choked-off noise at this.

You continued.

“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.”

“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him.

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin.

Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got.

Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him.

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance.

This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore.

“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!”

Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment.

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting.

…

Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you.

When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him.

“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear.

Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview.

He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car.

“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off.

“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out.

But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault.

…

The ex-wife didn’t know much.

She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years.

She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back.

Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused.

He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood.

But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one.

(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.)

…

Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help.

So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye.

By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do.

…

Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car.

“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly.

“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car.

“Your room key?”

You suppressed another grin.

“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?”

You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle.

“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves.

Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you.

His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed.

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together.

And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin.

He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it.

He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head.

He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes.

Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words.

“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-”

“I don’t think it was stupid.”

You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking.

“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.”

Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain.

A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric.

Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore.

That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second.

It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve.

“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?”

You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited.

He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was).

All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound.

“Nngh.”

It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy.

You giggled quietly.

“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.”

Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain.

His mind was racing, chanting out:

‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’

But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was:

“Please.”

“Good boy.” You sighed.

You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second.

It was cute, to say the least.

You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed.

“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.”

You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins.

He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him.

If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now.

His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples.

“Here, come on, baby.”

You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it.

Truthfully, he did get something out of this.

It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet.

He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling.

In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears.

“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.”

Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits.

Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence.

It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more.

(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.)

You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh.

“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest.

You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically.

“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.”

The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too.

He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint.

“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.”

Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up.

You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this.

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.

His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him.

You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load.

Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath.

Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest.

But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.)

You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that.

You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly.

“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants.

“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked.

You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum.

“So pretty baby.”

He only whined in response.

You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him.

You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him.

“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked.

You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again.

‘You said that you only wanted to look.’

The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop.

“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.”

“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.”

He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land.

“You gonna be good for me, baby?”

“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.”

He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock.

Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears.

But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again.

“Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?”

Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy.

He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop.

You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.

You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix.

He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth.

…

The next morning, Spencer felt hungover.

He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team.

You came back with a small grin on your face.

“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.”

Spencer nodded. “That’s good.”

When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist.

“That’s enough, baby.” You told him.

His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again.

“Yes, Mommy.”

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #sub!spencer #sub!spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

3K notes · View notes

mariclerc · 4 months ago

Text

Meant to be | cl16

Summary: where you dream about a life with a guy you don't know yet.

Warning: fluff, soulmates!au, interlinked dreams.

Part 2

“My God, where are those keys, huh?” you say as you search through your bag for your house keys while holding a bag with some groceries you had bought. “Bingo!” you say finding your keys and inserting it into the knob and opening the front door.

Upon entering you were met with the most beautiful scene; Your pets, a kitten named Luna and a little dachshund dog with golden fur called Leo, they are playing with a boy, who is alone in a pair of sweatpants without a shirt, showing off his toned torso.

His skin is a bit tanned and sunburned, but he still look gorgeous with that contrast of golden and slightly red color from the sunburns. He laughs at the antics that Luna and Leo make at him, when he smiles he shows the cutest dimples you've ever seen.

He looks up at you and gives you that cute smile. “Hi there, mon chéri!” he says while stroking Leo's fur. (my darling) “Little ones, look, mommy's here!” he says to Luna and Leo, who come out to greet you with affection.

You smile. “Hi there my little loves!” you say at your adorable pets, Leo moves his tail wide and Luna moves her paws towards your legs. You put the groceries on a table and walked over your boyfriend. “Hey you, lovebug!” you greet him by giving him a soft kiss on his cheek, he closed his eyes and smiled.

“I missed you darling.” he says with a slightly hoarse voice.

You caressed his hair and he closed his eyes again, he looked like a soft angel. “I missed you too, honey. What were you doing?” you asked him softly.

He smiled. “I was picking some fruits from the garden while Luna and Leo were running around among the flowers.” he says softly. “And well, then I started playing with them!” he giggled.

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun!” you giggled too as you get up the floor and started walking to accommodate the groceries in their place, he gets up too.

“The best, but I missed my girl so much.” he says smiling as he helped you with the groceries.

He looks so soft and cute, it's like you've seen him somewhere before, not just in your dream, but somewhere else. His greenish eyes captivate you, he has a quite bewitching look, his face seems carved by God himself, and he looks like a prince.

“Awwe, I missed you too baby!” you hug him gently.

And just as he was leaning in to kiss you... Suddenly you wake up very excited and agitated.

You rub your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. The dream felt very real and vivid, so much so that you still feel the sensation of his arms around yours.

You sit in your bed. “Why I can't remember his face? I don't understand, it felt so real...” you say softly to yourself as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion. “Oh god, we had a house... and a puppy... and a kitten.” you muttered to yourself while closing your eyes as you try to replay the scenes of the dream.

You get up and walked over to the window, looking out at the world outside. “It was perfect.” you sigh.

Almost simultaneously, Charles wakes up very sleepy from his dream, he had a dream quite similar to yours. He stretches as he smiles, trying to remember parts of the dream.

“That was... Different, but it felt so real.” he mutters to himself, He gets up and gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “There was someone... but who?” he thinks out loud.

He takes a sip and leans against the counter, lost in thought.

Back to you, you're pacing around your room, still trying to remember the dream.

“Why I can't remember? My god...” you say a little frustrated. Then you decide to grab a notebook and start jotting down everything you can still remember about the dream. “A cozy house... a dachshund puppy... a kitten... and him.” you say as you finish writing.

***

As the days went by you continued to dream about the boy and the pets you had together, each dream was different but the feeling was the same: there was that familiarity and closeness that you've rarely had with someone... You are now in your apartment with your best friend Sarah, you are having a girls' afternoon while catching up on everything that has happened in your lives.

“And then in this dream I was waking up next to him and god! He looked so angelic and peaceful I just...” you say and you sighed, covering your face with your hands. “Don't think I'm crazy, because I'm not.”

Sarah smiles gently. “I know you're not crazy or something like that darling... It means that maybe that is your soulmate and you are interlinked with him somehow.” She says as she removes your hands from your face.

“But the thing is... You know I've never had a boyfriend, and well, it's a little weird.” you say shyly.

“Y/n... That's not unusual, don't worry about rushing into that... Imagine that you meet this guy from the dream and that everything that occurs in the dream eventually happens in real life, wouldn't that be great?” she smiles.

You blushed. “I don't know, I just wish he was true.”

Suddenly Sarah sees a post about a charity gala at the prince's palace, in Monaco charity galas are very common and although you don't like being in the spotlight, you've always been fascinated by the idea of attending one of those galas.

Sarah shows you the post. “Look, there's a gala in a couple of weeks... And I know you've always wanted to attend one.” she smiled mischievously. “So... What do you think if you go and get the guy of your dreams there?” she says.

You giggled. “Oh... That's a good idea, but I don't know if I could find him there.” you say softly.

You and Sarah start going through your closet to find a dress worthy of a gala, waiting to see if the guy who makes you spend sleepless nights finally appears.

***

Finally the day of the gala arrives, you’re wearing a lovely dress but feel shy amidst the crowd. Whether you get the guy or not, you'll try to have a good time.

“Okay y/n, just breathe.” you say to yourself.

As you navigate through the crowd, Charles stands across the room, chatting with friends. He suddenly feels a pull toward you, when he looks up and sees you he can't believe it, you are the girl of his dreams, the girl who has been keeping him awake every night.

“Who's that? No way... she's here.” he says in a whisper while looking over towards you. “Excuse me, guys.” he says as he leaves his group of friends to start walking.

You catch his eye for a brief moment before looking away shyly. “Okay, just be yourself.” you whisper to yourself.

Charles makes his way through the crowd toward you, his heart racing with anticipation. “Hi there! I'm Charles.” he says while he smiles warmly at you, showing off his dimples.

The same dimples he had on your dream, the same cute little smile he gives to you in your dreams... It's real, he's real.

“H-hi! I'm... I'm y/n!” you say while stammering slightly.

“You look familiar... Have we met before? Because I can swear I've seen you somewhere else.” he says a little intrigued.

You blushed. “Ehm... No, I don't think so, but it's funny because I feel like I know you from somewhere else.” you say softly.

He giggled. “It's okay.” he smiles again. “You want to grab some drinks and have a chat?”

You nodded shyly. “Sure! I'd like that.”

As you walk together through the great hall, there’s an undeniable chemistry building between you two. You share stories about your lives, and he opens up about his passion for racing.

“And that’s why I love being on the track—every lap feels like a new adventure.” he says enthusiastically.

“That sounds exhilarating!” you say genuinely interested.

“What about you? What’s your adventure?” he asked playfully.

“I guess I’m still figuring it out… but I love animals.” you smiled softly.

“You know, I feel like we’ve known each other forever.” he says while looking deeply into your eyes.

“I feel that too.” you can feel your heart racing so fast. “The truth is that for a couple of nights now, I have had a very recurring dream... And someone similar to you appears.” you say shyly.

“Oh, really? Tell me all about it, let's see if it's similar to my dream.” he says softly.

You blushed, gaining confidence. “Well... It was about a pretty house in the countryside I guess... A little puppy and a little kitten appeared in it and, obviously, you...” you said the last thing softly.

He looks at you softly. “Oh, that sounds so interesting... I had a somewhat similar dream, I had cute puppy and kitten there, a nice house with a garden and, well... There was someone similar to you there, maybe it was you.” he says blushing a little bit.

You look at him shocked by his words, some time ago you had heard someone talk about soulmates and that there are some that are interlinked by dreams and such... What you didn't imagine is that you were going to get your soulmate, the guy you've been dreaming about for several nights, at a charity gala.

You looked at him, shocked. “You... You think our dreams were interlinked?” you say in a whisper.

He nodded while smiling. “I do think so, I mean, it's no coincidence that we had the same dream, right?” he asked you and you smiled. “I want to know what else was in your dream?”

You smiled. “Well, there was this house... It felt so safe and warm.” you say thoughtfully.

He leans closer to you. “What was it like?” he asked.

You smile nostalgically. “It had a big backyard with fruits and lots of flowers... and a swing set, we were so happy there!”

Charles watches your expression change as you talk about it.

“And, what about me? What do you remember?” he asked curiously.

You bite your lip. “Just that we were together... and it felt so right.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both absorb what you just said, the connection between you grows stronger.

“I think that our dreams are our hearts trying to tell us something.” Charles says softly.

You look into his eyes, feeling a rush of emotions. “Do you think… do you think we could make that dream a reality?” you whisper.

Charles shifts closer, his gaze intense. “Oh, believe me, I would love to make it happen with you.” he says earnestly.

Suddenly, Charles reaches out and gently takes your hand in his. The warmth of his touch sends shivers down your spine.

“Y/n... Can I kiss you? Please?” he whispered softly.

Your heart pounds in anticipation as you nod slowly. He leans in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet electrifying kiss. It feels like magic—everything you've ever dreamed of coming to life in that single moment. As you pull away, breathless and smiling, the world around you seems brighter.

“Wow...” he whispered while grinning.

You blushed. “Wow indeed... Did you know that in my dreams we never got to kiss?” you giggled.

He smiled. “Let me guess, did the alarm wake you up too? Because it happened to me several times.” he giggled softly.

You shake your head. “Worse... I woke up all excited and flustered, but it was worth it, I think... That kiss was much better than I could have imagined.”

He giggled. “Oh, I know baby.” he kissed the back of your hand. “It was perfect, it felt like we were waiting a long time for it.”

With laughter and warmth enveloping you both, it feels like this is just the beginning of a beautiful adventure together—one that echoes the dreams you've both shared and those yet to come.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc fluff #formula one x reader #charles x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles x you #charles x shy reader #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x shy reader #charles leclerc au #charles au #mariclerc fics

561 notes · View notes

stevie-petey · 4 months ago

Text

episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.”

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend).

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond.

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right.

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good.

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list:

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes.

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says.

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza.

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you.

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California.

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters.

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly.

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break.

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed.

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with.

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee.

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate.

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers.

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes.

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA.

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius.

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again.

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club.

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave.

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet.

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!”

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance.

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household.

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!”

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that.

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?”

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man.

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after.

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!”

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous.

Which means it has to be about someone.

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch.

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind.

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend.

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!”

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.”

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end.

–

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you.

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you.

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet.

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her.

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile.

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’.

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now.

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary.

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent.

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne.

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match.

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin.

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly.

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil.

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience.

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them.

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster.

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike.

Goddamn Eddie Munson.

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side.

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you.

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high.

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head.

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be.

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows.

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions.

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery.

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

–

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary.

You’ll miss him when you graduate.

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one.

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day.

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his.

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for.

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom.

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too.

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table.

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana.

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded.

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin.

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies.

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others?

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.”

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him.

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified.

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol.

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother.

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds.

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

–

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him.

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back.

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd.

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true.

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster.

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song.

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash.

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin.

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot.

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them.

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself.

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score.

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jaosn tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.”

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline.

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there.

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!”

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else.

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones.

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

–

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time.

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms.

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked.

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known.

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.”

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with.

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.”

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does.

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true.

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him.

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke.

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely.

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart.

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow.

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue.

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling.

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted.

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate.

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship.

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud.

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways.

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed.

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to.

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull.

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

⌑ series masterlist

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

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #bdyr #m's writing #SEASON 4 EVERYONE CHEER !!!!#also i dont hate eddie but bug does #lmao

793 notes · View notes

tgcg · 10 months ago

Text

this is my element (+ album)

asking me to pick my fave album is like asking an orphan matron to pick her favorite baby boy

thats some weird and cruel circumstances to put upon me i feel like it changes every damn week like a rota

i mean what if my beats misbehave and i gotta put 'em in time out i cant play permanent on that theyre too cute

but yknow what i can show you one thing thats been on my mind lately

===

so when i was a kid we had this skateboard vid by "element skateboards" on DVD

they were this skateboard kit slash apparel company that was all about progressivism and shit and they did these much lauded comp tapes of dudes riding around on their boards and doing the dopest of macho tricks on the shit

flipping it turnways

putting the rock in the house like a big man

we had some of their merch actually

===

so anyways the one we had back then was This Is My Element

released 2007

mostly clips from cali i think and i mean the camerawork is fucking insane on some of those shots

this is gonna sound lame as fuck but i prob spent so many cumulative hours just peelin through the footage and ogling the shit outta it

that framing was tight

===

so you may be asking yourself or me

dave you genuine dicksucker i asked about your fav album not your favorite sordid ass display of smooth dudes hardcore riding and grinding them boards in public dude you have a problem

ok well that wasnt a question first of all so jot that down

but anyways to THAT i say

listen to the music

the whole thing has an original soundtrack of ambient beats

got some abstract hip hop jams, got some more indie stuff, lots of acoustic sampling

HELLA underground

and basically every track minus one is done by sampler beast david p. madson AKA "odd nosdam"

dude is my hero seriously

he is the master of the beat machine i shit you not hes always been kinda my idol on this stuff

aside from bro obviously

===

obviously.

===

anyways he had an E-mu SP-1200 which is a really oldschool sampler invented by dave rossum in the late 80s

revolutionary to the hip hop scene

nosdam had this mega distinct sound to his music that i always wanted to replicate on my own beats

still do

i dont know for sure if he used it on T.I.M.E. but he uses some of the same samples from "vol. 9" which was exclusively SP-1200 so im gonna get a lil j’accuzi on that

it couldve been a boss dr sampler SP-202 though idk

he had one of those

===

so aside from beating the shit out of the pause/resume button to flip my whole cranium at the cinematography or whatever i would also kinda play it on loop to listen to the soundtrack and space out at 2am

the lonely broner seemed to free his mind at night

ok shit broner is good but i didnt mean it like that

that was goofy lets just keep movin

it was the only way i had to listen to it back then but i mean the video is 50 mins long so its basically just an odd nosdam album with accompanying ambient skater sounds and random expletives and whatever

random car sequence

yknow what i dont think people respect enough?

the dude who catches all the "mad stunts yo" on camera

i swear to god at least half the time hes ALSO on a board and that shit is bananas to me

bros gotta be on some whole other level of zen to skate good AND catch all them glamor shots of his fellow skater

thats like an express ticket to the ER imo

the ambulance is already on the scene watching you like an eager crow watches a half dead dog

===

ok gonna go ahead and lay it out flat

not great on a board myself

kinda dogshit at it actually

so maybe im not exactly an arbitrator of skateboard heinousness

but i always kinda liked watching THEM do it i mean who doesnt?

whats an even crazier layer to stack on the "dave" cake is

and dirk told me this because unfortunately it kinda happened post-2009

he would do all these collabs with one of my childhood favorite underground rappers david cohn aka serengeti

surrounded by daves left and right dude even before all the time travel horseshit

thats like

serendipitous as fuck i think!

===

if sburb was just a revolving door of artists called dave that i could bump fists with

instead of other mes in various states of aliveness tending toward extremely dead

i wouldve probably given it something higher than 2 stars on my TGN review

===

so yeah you ask me my favorite album its T.I.M.E. by odd nosdam i guess

bump that shit on a walk your mind will go places unknown to man

#dave strider #homestuck #comix #this is my element #the way i drew dave posing here is rly heavily inspired by askinsufferableprick btw #welcome to strider infodump hours

869 notes · View notes

kimarii-00 · 6 months ago

Text

Regrets and Punishments (2)

❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he really did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.

❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language, guns/shooting, blood, violence, suggestive scenes (?), eventual happy ending

❥Word Count: 4.8k (2k words more than the last one ;))

❥Part 2/2

PART 1

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: I did not expect all the support for the first part, thank you guys!! I hope this last part was worth all the hype! Enjoy!!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“(Name),” Kelly begins, “I’m so sorry I–”

“What the hell do they even want with her? She’s a fucking child. Four! Four fucking years old,” As angry as you were right now, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, “I can’t… What if they hurt my baby?”

“They’re probably going to use her as some sort of backup in case their plan with Mike’s wife goes south…”

In all honesty, you think you had a hunch on why they took Demi. Because he’s her father… They must’ve done their research…

You’re surprised Armando hasn’t pressed you more by now about Demi. He must’ve had questions because last time he checked, you didn’t have a kid, so from his perspective, in the years he was gone you either must’ve hooked up with some guy and had his kid, or the passionate night you two shared before he left must’ve really paid off…

“(Name) I swear, we’re not going to let anything happen to Demi,” Kelly said in an attempt to sooth your motherly insticts. You felt nausious but you appreciated that you weren’t in this alone. Kelly had always been there for you, especially when the father of your child left and you found out you were pregnant with his kid a week later. She was there for you when nobody was. She had helped you through depressive episodes so you wouldn’t stress yourself and end up hurting the baby, she was there for you when you went into labor and had to be rushed to the hospital. She was there when the loud cries filled the room when the doctors popped Demi out of you.

Thinking of this only made you angrier, because it was wrong that you had to rely so much on your best friend instead of the man that was supposed to be Demi’s father, and now, because of his involvements with these people, your daughter has been taken. She has nothing to do with this.

You wipe your face, trying to get the tears to stop falling but they just wouldn’t. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Armando looking at you with an expression that you can’t read but when he notices that you’ve seen his antics, he averts his attention elsewhere. You can’t help but think that he wants to say something to you, but you can’t bring yourself to care in this moment.

As much as you’d like to deny it, deep down you still have feelings for that man. But there are many reasons as to why you can’t just happily jump back into his arms and ask him to take you back.

Right now, you have more than yourself to worry about. You have Demi, and if you were going to get with a man, she deserves to have someone that will care and love her and right now, you aren’t sure that man could be Armando.

You aren’t paying much attention to the group as they talk about a plan to get the hostages back, you aren’t in your right mind and it seems everybody notices that. All you can think about is your little girl.

Mike looks at his son, and even though they don’t have the deepest relationship, he can tell that the boy is worried for you. He still isn’t entirely sure what you and him are to each other, but he can definitely tell that seeing you as broken as you are now is breaking something in Armando himself. He makes his way to Armando’s side and slightly nudges his side to get his attention.

“Go talk to her,” he says, gesturing to the grieving woman, “You two clearly have things to discuss, you better get it out of the way before we start making moves.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Armando grumbles, his eyes wandering to your person for what felt like the hundreth time in the last ten minutes.

“You never know until you try–”

“I did try, she told me to get the hell away from her.”

“Listen man, I don’t know what your relationship is with her, but what I do know is that if you don’t talk to her now, you might not get another chance to.”

Armando takes in his fathers words, contemplating his options and realizing that he really only has two: Not talk to you and then potentially die before he gets the chance to, or two, talk to you know and list the weight thats been on his chest ever since he saw you walk through that front door.

He decides that he would probably come to regret picking the latter, but his feet are gliding him toward where you sat with Kelly before he could find some excuse as to why he should wait until later to have this inevitable conversation.

You don’t seem to notice him until he’s standing before you, yet you don’t lift your head. Kelly does, however, and gives him a certain look that read, “If you hurt her more than she’s already hurting, I swear I’ll kill you”. He nodded to her, and she hesitantly nodded back. She rubbed your back in a comforting way one last time before standing up and walking toward the rest of the group. Armando took her place next to you.

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you. It’s a mix of awkward and comfortable silence between you two before you break it by suddenly speaking up.

“She’s yours,” You say without warning. You decided that you’d rip the band-aid off and quell any thoughts about you hooking up with some other guy that he might’ve had, “Her name is Demi. She’s four… She’s yours.”

“...I had a feeling,” He starts, “I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything and wait for him to expand. You wait for his to say anything to help you understand why he left you. Why he abandoned you and your unborn child. But he says nothing.

You sigh, “Why’d you do it?” You sounded tired. You didn’t want to argue. You just wanted him to help you understand his decision all those years ago.

“I got caught up in some shit. Fucked with the wrong people.”

“Yeah no shit,” You spit out.

Silence overtakes you both once again.

“You didn’t even leave a text,” You say quietly, “Y’know I waited for you. I waited, and waited, and waited, and then waited some more, yet you never came home. Never.”

Up until this point your head had been in your hands, trying to soothe your pounding headache, but now your gaze laid on his face, making direct eye contact. You let him see your stinging red eyes from all the crying you’ve been doing.

“I didn’t want to involve you in my shit. I didn’t want you to end up hurt because of me–” He begins, but you don’t take any of that bullshit.

“Yeah? Well I’m involved now, and guess who’s paying the fucking price? My– our child.”

This shuts him up. He doesn’t have anything to say to that, other than, “I’m sorry.”

You scoff. Is that all he can offer you? After all he’s put you through?

“Was it even real?” You ask on a whim.

“What?” He questions.

“Us. Was it real? Since you found it so easy to just up and leave some random day?”

“You think that shit was easy?” He snaps, “I loved you– I love you so much, so how the hell could you say that me leaving you was fuckin’ easy?”

You flinched at the correction from loved to love, “You sure as hell made it seem that way.”

He startled you by grabbing your shoulders tightly. He turned you so you looked at him fully, eye contact as intense as ever.

“I had to damn near fight myself to not turn back and run into your arms again after I left you. I thought about you every fuckin’ day that I wasn’t around you. If I could go back, I swear I would’ve told my mother to fuck off if it meant that I could stay with you… with our child. But at the time I was a fucking idiot and I thought–” He had to stop his rambling for a moment to take a breath. You stared at him with wide eyes, he was never one to go on tangents like this, and you made no effort to stop him. “I thought that leaving was the best decision for you, for us, at the time and I planned on coming back. I really did. But everytime I even thought it was okay to return more shit kept happening and I just– I didn’t want you involved.”

You let him trail on with his words as you found comfort in his somewhat desperate hold in your shoulders.

“I never meant to hurt you the way I did.” Armando concluded.

You avert your eyes down slightly, breaking the eye contact but he puts his finger under your chin to lift it back up. He doesn’t want you avoiding this conversation.

He isn’t sure what possessed him to lean down, shortening the distance between the two of you until there was nothing but a pocket of air seperating his lips from yours, but as he’s about to take the final step, you pull away slowly.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” You begin, unsure of what excuse your about to pull, “I can’t.” You say, deciding not to beat around the bush.

He nods in understanding, yet you immediately recognize the hurt in his eyes.

You pull away from his hands on your shoulders and he makes no move to stop you. You take a deep breath in, like you want to say something else before you part ways, but ultimately decide against it.

You say nothing as you walk back to the group, leaving him standing motionless behind you.

“As far as they know, Lockwood is on his way with a plane to move the hostages to Cuba,” Mike spoke, going over the plan once more. Today was the day you took action to rescue the people that were kidnapped. Mike’s wife, the girl that was with her at the time– Callie, and…Demi. God… I swear if they did something to her… “The second they get close to the plane with the hostages, it’s quick kills. Neutralize all threats. These motherfuckers killed a lot of good cops. They have my wife, they have Callie, and they have (Name)’s daughter.” You lowered your eyes at the aknowledgement.

“They attacked our families. We not losing today.” He concludes, and everyone nods their head.

You were partnered with the tech team in the van, watching the situation from drone footage. You wanted to be on the front lines to get rid of every fucker who thought taking your daughter was a good idea, but you were stuck inside of the van until extra help was needed.

You hear the helicopter pilot through your comms device in your ear, “I got one looking out the front door, right side, I got one sniper on the roof of building two.”

“T those up,” Rita says, who ended up joining the cause after realizing the man she was dating was with the enemy. You quickly code in a few commands for the drone to follow and before long you have eyes on the two mentioned. “Everybody keep moving. What are those?”

She points to the objects presented in the live map of the area, and you answer, “Gaters.”

“I thought it was an abandoned theater park?”

“Abandoned by humans,” Kelly jumps in while loading her gun.

You manage to find the parks webpage from when it was open and discover that the main attraction was an albano aligator named “Duke”. It was sixteen feet long, and there are stories about him still being there to this day.

“Well fuck that…” You mutter.

You watch from the drone as the main team lands in the water as planned, getting into position.

“Armando’s at his QTH,” Dorn confirms, letting everyone know that he’s in position. You swallow the lump in your throat.

Lockwood steps out of the helicopter and walks on the dock, waiting for them to bring out the hostages. You hold your breath and watch closely.

“Hostages are coming out now,” Dorn says. Your eyes dart across the screen, looking for your daughter in particular before spotting her in the arms of a muscular man. They walked behind the other two that were kidnapped and you can barely contain yourself when you take in the terrified look on your four year olds’ face.

“Fuck…” You choke out under your breath. Kelly hears this and rubs circles into your back for comfort. You put your hands over your mouth in a prayer like position and keep watching through the drones.

“Everybody stay calm,” Rita says.

The plan was for Mike to take out their leader as soon as he had the chance to, which was why he was on the front lines, yet when you notice no movement from his end, you begin to become worried that something has gone wrong.

“Mike?” Rita blurts, “Mike do you have the shot?”

“Negative, I do not have a shot, I do not have a shot,” he says into the comms device. Your eyebrows furrow as you look from a perspective of a drone that flew near where the helicopter had landed, and you conclude that from where Mike was posted, he should’ve had a clear shot.

A moment goes by and the kidnappers walk with the hostages, but just a little ways before they reach Lockwood, they stop on the bridge.

“They stopped, why’d they stop?” Dorn hurridly says. The drone is able to catch the sight of something slowly moving through the water and you conclude that it’s what they are looking at as well, you watch as their leader follows whatever is moving and your heart sinks when you realize what the thing in the water is moving towards.

“Armando–” You start, but he seems to have noticed it as well.

“Shit.” He says.

One man signals for the soldiers around him to start a search, suddenly becoming suspicious of where the thing in the water was going, and who it may be targeting. “Armando they’re closing in on you.” Dorn states.

“Do they see him?” Rita asks.

“I don’t know.”

Rita takes the time that they are distracted to pressure Mike, surely he has a shot now, right? “Mike, now! Your chance is now, they can see him, they know we’re here!”

“I don’t have it, negative, negative.”

“You’ve got to take the fucking shot,” Armando mumbles out, keeping his eye on the thing slowly advancing toward him in the water, and the person that was getting dangerously close to his hiding spot above.

You watch as all hell breaks loose when Armando shoots the man who semed to have spotted him, and he falls into the water only to be finished off by the thing in the water, now identified to be the ledgendary sixteen foot long gator. You don’t think you’ve ever been as scared as you had been the moment you realize they know they’ve been set up, and they start taking the hostages back into the building. Your daughter begins to cry and it breaks your heart.

“Engage!” Rita shouts through the comms, “Kelly, get us there.”

You leave your chair and move to the front of the van along with Kelly as she steps on the gas. You take the time to reload your own gun, and slip a knife in your boot for emergencies.

By the time the four of you have arrived, the fight has moved inside. Rita orders you three to go inside and she states that she’ll go after Lockwood and you don’t have to be told twice before you’re rushing in there. You hear Kelly shouting your name behind you, trying to get you to slow down as you leave them in the dust, but all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, desperate to find your daughter. You arrive just in time to see the man who was holding onto your daughter walk up a flight of stairs and you waste no time following after, shooting whoever was in your way.

The path splits into three once you reach the top and you pick a random path, slowly walking into the room.

You make sure the room is clear, making sure there is no one in it before you turn around, only to be smacked in the face with the butt of a gun. You stumble and fall, and make eye contact with the man who took you by surprise. You see him aiming at you, but with no intention to die before you find your daughter, you regain your balance and sweep his leg and quickly make your way on top of him. You snatch the knife out of your boot and put it to his neck, “Where is the child?” You hiss out, “I swear I’ll fucking kill you, where is she?” You barked when he took too long to answer for your liking.

“I don’t know what your talking about–” You decide you don’t have time for this bullshit, and jab him in the stomach with the knife. He lets out a cry of pain and he finds the cool metal of the knife back on the skin of his neck with a noticable change of pressure this time around. He was sure it would cut into the skin at any moment, “Okay, okay! Last I heard she was on the top floor.”

“Fuck,” You say, realizing that there were more floors than you realized. You don’t say another word before puncturing the side of his neck, quickly ending him. You get up, ready to leave the room but you’re grabbed from behind and choked. You grip the arm that wraps around your neck and stab your already bloodied knife into it, releasing yourself from the headlock. Even though the man who’d attacked you had been stabbed he was relentless. He ran at you again, landing a punch into your stomach and you got a few hits in yourself. You smash his head against a wall which either kills or knocks him out, and you can’t bring yourself to care as you see more men rush into the room.

You dance around them, getting in hits and taking some as well and you whip out your gun. You wanted to preserve bullets but you were getting overwhelemed by the amount of people that were flowing into the room. You shoot a few with amazing accuracy.

You hear a grunt behind you and before you can turn around, you are hit in the head with the butt of another gun again. You groan, the pain of your injuries starting to show through the adrenaline and the man behind you grabs you by your hair and pulls you up before wraping his own arm around your neck. You close one eye in pain and watch as one man walks to you, aiming his gun.

Before he can shoot, there is another shot that interrupts their plan and it ends up hitting the man behind you. Now free from his hold, you make use of the distraction and kick the man in front of you in the gut, causing him to double over. You knee him in the face and snatch his gun, shooting him in the face.

You look at your savior, and your eyes widen as you realize who it was. Armando…

“You good?” He asks. You nod, and he joins you at your side to finish off the remaining of the enemy, but before any of you can make a move, a helicopter comes smashing through the window, instantly killing two of the guys. You’re right in the path of the helicopter, and you see out of the corner of your eye Armando running towards you. He grabs onto you and you both fly out of the way. He manuvers both of your bodies until he’s the one to take most of the impact once you land.

Once all the chaos settles, you both stand up. You look at him, his hands still embracing you protectively, “Are you okay?”

You don’t answer him and continue to stare into his eyes. Those eyes you’ve known for so long. You don’t know what could’ve possessed you to do this, but you feel as if it’s the only thing you could do in the moment. With haste, you push your lips against his.

You can feel his surprise in your sudden action. You bring your hands up and grip his vest for stability and you feel the moment where he begins to reciprocate. Your mouths move together in a practiced motion and you wonder how he’s still such a good kisser after all these years.

The kiss quickly becomes heated, hurried. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you let him, moving the muscles together, competing for dominance. You groan into his mouth.

He then begins to walk forward, and you walk backwards slowly until your back makes contact with the wall behind you and he cages you in, his lips never leaving yours. Tongue never unlocking with your own. One hand is connected to the wall and the other to your hip as he brings you impossibly closer. You bask in the moment.

You break the kiss first, needing air, and his lips search for yours again instantly when you do. Your mind begins to cloud, but you remember why you’re here in the first place. You need to find your daughter. Even knowing this, you find it hard to pull away from the sensation that is his lips against your own, but somehow you find it in you to put your hands on his chest and gently push him away. He looks down at you in question.

“Can…can we continue… after I find my daughter?” You breathe heavily, still breathless from the passionate moment you shared.

“Yeah… okay. I’m coming with you.” Your eyes shot up at him at the statement. You nod at him and he hesitantly releases you from his hold. Desperate to rid yourself of the tension left in your lower area due to the kiss, you walk away, recalling what the man said about another floor.

Armando follows closely behind you.

You eventually find the staircase that would lead you to the top floor, and of course, awaiting you were more of the enemy. With Armando by your side, you make quick work of them and once all that were left were bodies, you begin to search the room. It was the only room on the top floor, so unless that guy was lying to you, Demi must be here.

So where the hell is she?

There is no sign of her being here. You check behind boxes, inside cabinets, everywhere. Your breathing quickly grows rapid as you realize that your daughter is nowhere in sight. If she’s not here, then where the hell could she be? The rest of your team was in the lower areas on the building, and if one of them found her, surely they would’ve announced it over the comms, right? So where the hell is your daughter?

You feel a hand on your back, “Hey, hey, you’re fine. We’ll find her, okay?” Armando says.

You realize you can’t waste time, so you nod and recollect yourself. But that doesn’t change the fact that you have no clue where she could be if not here.

“Look,” Armando states once your breathing had slowed, he points to the left where there seemed to be a door to a balcony of sorts.

You take a deep breath and follow him, as he already started making his way toward it.

He kicks open the door, gun aimed at the figure that stood at the edge of the balcony and your heart dropped. In front of you stood your little girl, and a man that took his place on the ledge of what had to be a long ass drop. You feared the worst and your gun shoot in your hands.

“Put the guns down!” The man demanded, “Right now or I promise you I’ll jump, and take her ass with me!” He says. He emphasizes his words by gripping your daughter tighter and holding his gun to her head, then back at the two of you.

Your daughter is bawling her eyes out. You aren’t even sure if he noticed that you were there for her. She was scared out of your mind. “Demi–”

“Shut up, and put your fucking guns down!” The man demanded. You listen this time, which prompted Armando to do the same. You cursed to yourself, realizing what little power you have in this situation. “I want you two to slowly walk back out that door.”

“We can’t do that,” Armando states, his hands rising in the air after he dropped his gun to show he’s not a threat.

“Fucking do it!” The man boasted. You aren’t sure what your options are, if there were any. You look to Armando, and he seems to sense your eyes on the back of his head.

He then looks at you a certain way, and mouths to you, “Trust me.”

Your eyes widen and you let out a yelp in surprise when Armando takes off running toward the man and your daughter. This takes the man by surprise too, before he makes no effort to pull the trigger and only seems to panick at the incoming threat. He doesn’t get a chance to retaliate before Armando uses his shoulder and back to swiftly steal your daughter from the mans grip, all the while using force to push him off of the balcony.

You watch as Armando sinks to his knees with your daughter, gently combing her hair with his fingers and whispering in her ear words of comfort. She grips onto him tightly and cries into his police vest. It takes you a moment to realize that she is safe. Something about Armando holding your daughter in his arms and caring for her makes you realize and think about some things that you haven’t thought to think about before, but you put that all of the back burner in favor of finally holding Demi in your arms again.

“Baby…” You whisper, almost in disbelief that she really is safe and sound. Demi registers your voice in her little head and whips it around to face you.

“Mama!!” She cries, she leaves Armando’s hold and you drop to your knees to give her the biggest, tightest hug you can. You sniffle and pull her head into your neck.

“Are you okay Mimi? Let me look at you…” You say, pulling away from her to check her from any kind of injury. She shakes her head, you take in the sight of her red eyes from all the crying she’s been doing.

“Mama is hurt…” She mumbles. You move your hand to the various areas that Demi points at and notice that you are indeed hurt in many areas, but you don’t care. Not right now.

“I am… But it’s okay, mama’s strong, just like you baby. God, I love you so much,” You say, planting a long, wet kiss on her forehead and hug her again tightly.

“I love you too, mama,” Demi says into your neck. You look at Armando as you hug Demi, and you mouth a quick “Thank you.” He nods to you, watching the interaction.

The moment is interrupted by Mike on the comms, “Armando, come in Armando.”

“What’s up?” Armando replies.

“You need to get out of here, Judy’s here and is looking for you. Take the boat and get the hell out of here.”

Armando hesitates, looking at you and your daughter… his daughter. Whatever he’s contemplating seems like he’s making a hard decision in his mind, but luckily for him, you’ve already made up yours.

“We’ll come with you.” You state.

“What? No–”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Silence overtakes you, but you don’t let it linger for too long, “Don’t push us away again.”

This looks to have convinced him, as he takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

You don’t know how the future will go for you three. You dread the predestined talk with your daughter that you’re going to have to have with her to tell her that this man is really her father, but all you know is that as your walking through that building, your daughter being carried by him and her hooked onto her neck for safety and comfort, you feel as if you have good things coming.

And so you let yourself crack a genuine smile, one that you felt hasn’t shown itself since the night that he left you.

And he reciprocates the same one. One you haven’t seen in years, and one you’re sure to see in many more to come.

TAGLIST: (if you didn’t get tagged, it’s probably due to settings!)

@dasaniswrlddd @thedarkworldofhananerea @taylormcguire282 @timebomb1101 @5arlan7 @desiiiisworld @babygurl030 @lovelyme22 @Leavemealing @lewispool @yeahnohoneybye @velocitynyoom @maybepersuasivetom @deadpool15

#armando aretas x reader #armando aretas #armando aretas x you #bad boys #bad boys ride or die #kimarii-00

550 notes · View notes

quinnysnursery · 2 months ago

Note

HELLO !! c:

could you please make having little!reader having both Matt and Chris as caregivers!

could it also have a colouring scene

c:<

[🥤🩹] the perfect picture | matt & chris sturniolo one-shot

paring : cg!matt sturniolo x fem!little!reader x cg!chris sturniolo

summary : matt and chris are a bit worried about their little one, but she's just busy making the perfect picture!

warning/extra tid-bits : use of y/n, i think that's all!

word count : 722 + not proofread

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (crayons doodles from @thecutestgrotto, AREN'T THEY ADORABLE??)

a/n : dishing these out like hot cakes!! (not proof read, i'm just a girl!)

Matt let out a content sigh, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes. The house had been so calm and quiet today that he really felt-

Wait.

The house had been so calm and quiet.

The brunette boy stood up from his spot on the couch, quickly examining the living room and the kitchen for any sign of his little- only to find none. “Baby?” He called out, trying his best not to panic.

Matt waited a few moments for a reply before rushing upstairs to Chris’ room, his heart sinking when he only found his brother. “Dude! Ever heard of knocking?!” Chris said, annoyed.

“Where’s Y/n?” Matt asked seriously, his tone causing Chris’ eyebrows to furrow. “I thought she was with you!” The youngest triplet said, standing up off his bed. Matt shook his head, “No, I thought she was with you!” Matt argued back.

Both brothers stood silently for a few moments before taking off out of the youngest triplet’s room, opening up any door, checking behind or under any Y/n-sized hiding spot.

“Sweetheart?!” Chris called out, bounding down the stairs to check Matt’s room as the other caregiver checked behind the curtain of the bathtub.

Nick looked up, his neck aching slightly from how long he’d been helping you shade in the background of the picture you’d asked for Nick’s help coloring.

“Are they calling for you?” He asked, you blinked up at Nick before shrugging. “Don’ want them to see until ‘m done.” You murmured- words muffled through your pacifier.

Nick nodded, standing up and ruffling your hair before walking out his room, coming face to face with both his brothers.

“Is Y/n in there?” Chris asked, already reaching to open Nick’s door. “Is she?” Matt rushed his response. Nick stuck his arm in the way of Chris and Matt, blocking his younger brothers from opening his bedroom door.

“She is, we’re working on something to show you.” The eldest triplet explained, both caregivers breathed out sighs of relief- relieved to know their little was at least in the house.

“Wait, what?” Chris asked, processing his older brother's words. Matt nodded- equally as curious.

“Don’ tell them Nicky!” Y/n yelled out from inside the room, earning a soft chuckle from Nick. “Can’t tell you guys, sorry.” Nick said before slipping back into his room- ignoring the protests from Chris and Matt.

The two caregivers stood outside the door, thinking for a few moments.

“Should we be worried?” Chris asked, breaking the silence. Matt thought for a few moments before responding, “...Only mildly.”

Inside Nick’s room, the little was giggling away as she added details to each and every one of her doodles of her caregivers. “Nicky,” She called out, causing the eldest triplet to turn his head to face the little.

“Help.” She said, pointing to Chris’ figure. “Help with that?” Nick asked gently, examining the girl's crayon marks. “D’aw a hat, peas’.” She requested, making Nick smile brightly.

“Okay, let’s draw a hat.” He smiled, grabbing his pen from his nightstand and beginning on a baseball cap.

Soon, the perfect picture was complete- much to Nick and Y/n’s delightment. “Daddy! Papa!” Y/n called out, bounding down the stairs despite knowing it was against the rules to rush up and down the stairs.

Chris and Matt looked up from their phones, smiling brightly at the sight of their little. “What is it, sweetheart?” Matt asked, earning a soft giggle from the regressed girl.

“Look!” She smiled, proudly presenting the drawing to both her caregivers.

It was a crayon drawing with some details outlined in pen- thanks to Nick. The drawing showcased Chris, Matt, Nick and Y/n standing outside their Boston house, playing in the leaves. Chris adorned a red baseball cap with a gray hoodie, Matt was sporting a baggy sweater and an equally baggy pair of pants. It was clear Nick was wearing his famous black and red sweater, and it appeared Y/n was wearing a flowy maxi dress.

“Oh baby…” Chris smiled, overly proud of his girl. “Nicky helped! Bu’ I colored most’a it!” She excitedly told her caregivers- earning even more praise.Matt and Chris hugged their girl tightly, Nick joining in not long after. Each triplet was careful not to crush the perfect picture.

taglist !! :

@mattssturnz @littlestar44 @graceslittlecorner @zivall

@hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @sturnsxplr-25 @cherry-red-heart

@pr3ttyf4wn @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx

@tyummyz @starri-nightss @cyberskulzzz @nicksbestie

@urfavbestiee @nicksloverrr @babybatxxx @ivysturnss

@natedoeswife @blahbel668 @nicksloverrr @flow3rsturns13

@pkfferoo @pixxiies @mattsturnswhore @17welch17 @pinksikhewei

@v33angel @conspiracy-ash @hoes4matthew @elislytherpuffsturn

@mattsturnsgirlie

172 notes · View notes

hoshieeyewrinkles · 10 months ago

Text

S t r a w b e r r y p r i n t e d

(nct dream x reader)

Tw warning: non-con, drugs uses, intoxication, humiliation, degradation, perv! Dreamies, angst ig. Minors dni

A/n: Y'all I wrote this when I was sleepy and tired af, didn't like how it went

Haechan, who sits next to you in class and becomes so casually friends with you that you never would have known he is a huge pervert, as are his friends who dared him to do so so they could all make crude remarks about you while he discreetly takes up skirt pictures of yours.

He would say as they jerked off together, "I told you she has the cutest cunt."

Haechan who buys you popsicles and candies watching you suck on them while he pretends to take your cute pictures. All while he is sending it in his group chat.

"y'all seeing this whore suck that popsicle like a dick?"

"Jaemin was right, he always has an eye for total sluts"

When you complain that you have no friends but him, Haechan offers to introduce you to his friends. You gladly agree because Haechan's friends are most likely as civil and fun as him.

You were surprised to be brought to a lavish mansion finding his friends smoking in, a cloud of smoke hung in the air, thick enough to almost be tangible. Their eyes, red nd glassy, seemed to pierce through you, each one a predator sizing up its prey. And then, you saw them. All incredibly handsome, impossibly so, their gazes fixed on you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, you stumbled towards the couch, collapsing beside Haechan. A ripple of laughter followed.

"Wanna try, sweetheart?" Jaemin's voice, smooth as honey, offered his joint. You shook your head, feeling his intense gaze like a physical weight on your skin. Nervousness gnawed at you, making your fingers flutter like trapped butterflies.

"Chill, Jaem," Mark chuckled, casually dropping into the space beside you and draping an arm across your shoulder. "You're scaring the poor thing."

Ignoring his touch, you kept your eyes glued to your lap, desperately avoiding their scrutiny.

"You know Haechan never shuts up about you," Jeno drawled, winking at the boy beside you. Haechan reached out and placed a reassuring hand on your plush thigh smirking at you. "His words got us all hooked, sweetheart," Chenle, the one with the designer clothes, purred, his dark eyes gazing through you "We just had to meet the girl who stole his attention."

Haechan tried to persuade you by putting his joint forward and saying, "Just one puff, baby." Not wanting to be a joy-killer, you took a puff after noticing their anticipatory stares and discovered that it was addictive after just one. It was impossible not to take another drag. It seemed as if the time passed by so quickly as you sat on Mark's lap and caressed his chest in a completely high state, the boys laughed at your eagerness, and Jisung pulled out his phone to record you. Marks stares back at you puffing out smoke on your face before pulling you in for a sloppy kiss while fondling your ass under your skirt.

"Oh my fucking god!" Jeno laughed in disbelief after seeing your strawberry printed panties. "I mean it kinda turns me on..." Chenle joined in the laughter. You continued to make out with Mark without a care in world, completely out of your senses.

Everything felt like a dream: you being stripped naked and left in your strawberry printed panties in a doggy position, Jeno rapidly fingering your ass, Jaemin and Mark latching onto your tits, your hands occupied with Chenle and Haechan's cocks and Jisung filming you guys.

Darkness took your senses, yet a tiny thought flickered, why did you find pleasure in this mess, this dirt and shame? Were you really this - someone begging for humiliation? To be assaulted by these boys and haechan- haechan was someone you trusted. You felt sick, your whole being screaming against this awful scene. Maybe, you thought, this was always you, the hidden truth. Shame and wanting fought inside you, a messy, painful struggle. Even as you hated yourself, waves of pleasures flowed through you.

"fuck man... She is dripping" Mark let out a hoarse moan at the sight of your dripping cunt.

Hours passed, and you were passed out on the couch, hickeys covering your entire chest and neck, sore from every corner, handprints left on your thighs and throat. You were mumbling incoherent sentences, lost in the high. All the boys had collapsed, but Haechan was still lapping on your tits as if they were his last meal.

"This motherfucker has lost it..." Jaemin grumbled in a groggy state, lightly kicking Haechan, who chose to ignore him while the other boys laughed weakly.

"Can we keep her?" Jisung inquired timidly; for a brief moment, a wave of guilt washed over him, but he brushed it off knowing you clearly enjoyed it. You were begging for more, it doesn't matter if you weren't in your senses. Your body gave all the reactions they needed, right?

"We brought this whore here for a reason, of course we are gonna keep Ms.strawberries around for a while well if she wishes to..." Chenle replied narrowing his eyes.

"clearly..." Jeno let out a mocking laugh, as they nudged each other waiting for you to come into senses. A potent potion of exhilaration intoxicated their minds, blurring the lines between right and wrong. Guilt held no sway over them, nor did regret's sting pierce their hearts. You, with your dignity and vulnerability laid bare, were like a beacon to their darkness.

#nct dream #nct smut #tw noncon #nct dream smut #kpop smut #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #jaemin smut #nct jeno #nct jeno smut #jeno smut #mark x reader #nct mark smut #nct jaemin #nct jaemin smur #nct chenle smut #nct jisung smut #jeno x reader #jaemin x reader

821 notes · View notes

buccini555 · 11 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲

How would they react to the news that their girlfriend ended her own life?

A n g s t H e a d c a n o n s !

𝐹𝑡. Manjiro Sano, Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho Hitto, Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani and Baji Keisuke

Requested by: My bestie ♡

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨

At the exact moment he received the notice announcing that his girl was in the hospital after an attempt to take her own life, Manjiro did not hesitate to go to the place at the same time, so when he arrived at the hospital, the first thing he did was try to find out the condition of his beloved, until then, still hoping to find her well again.

As soon as he saw one of the doctors pass him in that freezing hallway, Manjiro immediately questioned how the girl was, "S-she's okay, isn't she? How is she?" Insistently, he questioned, however, the doctor only gave the news that the girl had not survived her to injuries.

At that same time, Manjiro felt as if his world was collapsing, he couldn't even believe it and for a brief moment, he still begged for that fact to be nothing more than a simple mistake, despite that, when part of him accepted what had really happened, the boy felt completely apathetic, as if some kind of emptiness took over him, after that event, Manjiro was never the same or could come back to his normal state, all he felt was guilt.

𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

"Baby?" He looked for his loved one in every room of that house, until he entered the bedroom and saw water running under the bathroom door, tension spread throughout his body, but he did not lack the courage to open that same door.

When faced with such a scene, Izana hurried to try to save her, even doing anything at that moment, he couldn't believe his own eyes when he saw that it was already too late, even trying to stay in hope.

Although he could still save her life, the boy burst into tears when he realized that there was nothing left that could bring his beloved back.

After that day, Izana was never the same, becoming even more closed in his own world and carrying the guilt he condemned himself for not having arrived sooner to avoid all that tragedy.

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨

Upon receiving the news that his loved one had just been hospitalized, the boy left everything behind, overcome by worry, he could barely think about what he would do if something bad actually happened.

When he arrived at the place, he immediately went to find out about the girl's condition, but, as soon as he learned the worst news he could receive, Kakucho just refused to accept that she hadn't resisted.

Alone, sitting in an empty corridor of a hospital, still in denial, he remained at the door of the room where his loved one was, when he cruelly realized that he would never see her alive again, he could not control his incessant crying, sitting on that floor, blaming himself for not having saved her from herself, he would definitely never be able to feel joy again, no longer caring about being alive or not, after all, after that day, the boy no longer felt anything.

𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

Finding his beloved's absence strange when he arrived home, something like an intuition made the heart of the tallest one feel distressed, for this reason, it didn't take him long to go up the stairs and look for her, the moment he opened the bedroom door, he saw her, but not as he wanted and then, the blood spread on the floor announced the tragedy that had occurred. "Shit... Shit!" The boy held the girl on his lap and took her to the hospital, believing that he could still save her.

Pacing insistently from side to side, Ran waited in anguish of worry, however, once he could finally be notified of the condition of his gentle girl, he could not believe that she simply had not resisted.

"She's gone... I couldn't save her, I failed." He repeated to himself sitting in one of the hospital chairs, Ran couldn't shed a tear or simply have any reaction other than blaming himself for not having made her stay, even if he had already accepted that he would never see her again, he still He refused to accept that she had left in such a cruel way, so this fact directly affected him, making him completely empty and with a coldness he had never seen before.

𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

"C'mon, don't do this to me, wake up, please, wake up..." Holding the girl in his arms, he did his best to try to save her and have time to take her to the hospital, but his hopes were destroyed when it happened realizing that she was leaving before his own eyes, even though he didn't want to and couldn't accept that he would lose her that night, Rindou hugged her, still trying to make her get rid of those medications, despite all his efforts, he instinctively He knew she was gone when he felt his skin turning cold.

"Baby? Baby, please, wake up!" He began to cry compulsively when he saw her leave before his eyes and in her arms she rested, Rindou just begged for her forgiveness for not having saved her and even if the girl could return to forgive him, the sameHe would carry that pain and guilt for the rest of his life and he did so, Rindou was never able to forgive himself.

𝐁𝐚𝐣𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞

"S-she... tell me, tells me how she is, now!" Arriving at the hospital after receiving such shocking news, Baji immediately went to find out about the girl's condition, no matter how much he tried to control himself or just remain calm, he could not deny himself that he expected the worst, and when unfortunately his intuition did not made a mistake, Baji could not accept that he had lost his beloved so unexpectedly.

Sitting on the hospital floor, he just begged for it to be a mistake or a lie. "...She's fine, this...this can't be real, it's a fucking nightmare." He repeated, despite this, when he realized that it had really happened, his heart broke instantly, the pain caused by the loss of the girl being one of the worst things he could feel.

After that fact, Baji started to get into even more trouble to try to dispel all that feeling and the longing that that girl left behind, becoming a danger even to himself, Keisuke never went back to being who he was.

635 notes · View notes

yoshikoooo · 6 months ago

Text

WIND BREAKER | KAJI REN X Fem!READER

synopsis: in which you are working in a confectionary and you notice your regular customers. Warning: F!reader, harassment (Obviously not by our baby kaji), kinda ooc, swearing. wc: 1.1k

You were wrapping up the freshly made candies, your delicate fingers deftly maneuvering the shiny wrappers around each sweet treat. Miss Miko's cheerful voice broke through your concentration.

"Oh Y/n! It's only been a month since you started working, yet you're doing so well!" Her clapping hands expressed genuine delight at your progress.

"You praise me too much, Miko-san," you replied modestly, continuing to wrap candies. Working at the confectionery store in Makochi Town felt like a blissful escape, despite occasional disruptions from unruly gangs.

"Oh no, you deserve it! Since it's already late, why don't you take some candies with you?" Miss Miko suggested warmly, interrupting your thoughts about the time that had slipped away unnoticed.

"Ah, it's already this late?" You realized, momentarily taken aback. Your shift had ended hours ago, lost in your focused work. Before you could decline, Miss Miko stuffed your pockets with candies and handed you a bag of assorted confections.

"E-Eh?" You stuttered, surprised by her generosity.

"Now, now, go take off your apron. It's time for you to go home and rest. You've done so much today that I have nothing left to do!" Miss Miko sighed playfully, as if lamenting the lack of tasks to occupy her.

You chuckled softly, conceding defeat, and removed your apron before heading towards the exit. As you prepared to leave, you noticed a trio of customers at the counter.

'Ah, it's them again,' you thought, recognizing the group. Holding your bag of sweets tightly, you caught the gaze of dark grey eyes. You offered a small smile before quickly looking away and continuing towards the door.

'They look intimidating, but seeing them buy sweets every time is surprisingly cute'

When you stepped outside, the sight of the setting sun greeted you, with the full bloom sakura tree swaying gently in the soft, melodic breeze. You paused briefly at the bridge, captivated by the serene beauty before you, too awestruck to notice your surroundings.

Suddenly, you felt a rough hand shove you, pulling you out of your reverie.

"ey! You hear me?!" a thug-like voice pierced through your deaf ears. You turned your head to see a man with a harsh grip on your shoulder, his group lingering menacingly behind him.

'Who?'

Despite your delicate appearance, which might suggest you were unworldly and naive, you fixed the man with a cold, unwavering stare. "Yes, do you need something?" you asked, your voice calm and composed. The man's irritation was evident, his grip tightening as he seemed frustrated by your unruffled demeanor.

"You got some nerve, acting all high and mighty," he growled, his voice dripping with annoyance. His posture and the sneers of his companions were clearly intended to intimidate.

You maintained your composure, your eyes unwavering. "If you have something to say, say it," you blankly said, refusing to be rattled by his attempts to scare you.

He scoffed, clearly taken aback by your calmness. "You're new around here, aren't you? You better learn to show some respect!" he snarled, raising his fist in the air. You didn't flinch or close your eyes.

Suddenly, like a scene from an action movie, a hand grabbed the thug's wrist, stopping his punch mid-air. "Huh?! Who the heck—"

'It's him'

It was one of the trio from the store. You recognized them immediately.

"Nice timing, RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRen!" shouted one of them, a second-year with distinctive eyebrows, from afar. Your eyes shifted to the platinum blonde in front of you. He twisted the thug's wrist with ease, forcing him to release you.

'Ren...?'

You heard the cracking of candies, as you watched the blonde move swiftly, taking down the gang members with impressive efficiency.

The boy with the unusual eyebrows quickly joined the brawl, while the third member, who had a mushroom-style haircut, stood beside you, offering a hand as if to protect you as another hand is grabbing onto some headphones.

"Are you hurt?" he asked simply through a text....?

You shook your head. "No."

He smiled reassuringly as the two furin boys dispatched the thugs with practiced ease.

Within minutes, the thugs were lying flat on the ground, defeated. The second-year boy with the odd eyebrows dusted off his hands, glancing over at you. "You okay young miss?"

You nodded, still a bit stunned by the sudden turn of events. "Yes, thank you."

"Still can't believe they're ganging up on a young miss like you" you heard him mumble as he looked at the guys pathetically. A disgrace indeed.

You noticed the blonde approaching you, which caused his two companions to look at him with puzzled expressions. You tilted your head, silently questioning his approach.

He pointed at your shoulder. "You're hurt,". You instinctively grabbed your shoulder, only then noticing the pain.

'Fuck'

"It must be bruised," you mumbled, meeting his grey eyes. "It's not that bad of an injury—"

"How will you make candies when you're injured?" he asked, his eyes still fixed on yours. is he mad? is he worried? is he—

'Ah— He knows me'

"Hmm, you're right..." you said thoughtfully, pondering your next move. "It is what it is. Nevertheless I'll still be able to do something," you added confidently, maintaining eye contact.

He seemed to have no intention of breaking the gaze, which reminded you of something.

"Can you bring both of your hands out?"

you asked, your request causing the trio to exchange confused glances.

His eyes didn't falter as he obeyed. You took a handful of candies and placed them in his hands.

"This is a secret. These candies are a new batch, it's supposed to come out tomorrow, but I'll make an exception," you said, smiling softly. The boy in front of you appeared stunned by your gesture.

"Thank you for saving me. Please share them with the others as well."

Ren blinked, clearly surprised. "thanks," he managed, his tone soft and a bit not audible but you heard it clearly. His companions, still confused, looked at the candies in his hands with interest.

The boy with the odd eyebrows grinned widely. "Wowww, we get the first taste! Thanks young miss!"

You gave a small nod in return, "I'm glad you guys were there. I don't know what would have happened otherwise."

"Anytime, just call us if you need help," the mushroom-haired boy said through a text again, and you nodded in response.

You pulled out your phone to check the time, but before you could, the blonde snatched it from your hand. You hummed in confusion as he typed quickly, then handed it back to you.

A new contact had been added,

"Kaji... Ren?" you said out loud, causing him to turn around.

"Call if you need help, Y/n"

He gave you one last look before walking away. His two companions followed, trying to question him as they went.

You chuckled softly as you watched them fade into the distance.

"How cute,"

____________

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker x y/n #wind breaker imagines #kaji ren x reader #fluff #wind breaker fluff #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker satoru nii #short

307 notes · View notes

perotovar · 10 months ago

Text

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 1) "session one"

gif by me

pairing: joel miller/dieter bravo (just this time. main pairing is still javi/joel) rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 3.5k content: swearing, joel and tommy's southern accents being cute af, dieter being a menace, joel being awkward af (but it's cute), cringey porn dialogue, male masturbation (briefly), one (1) handjob, one (1) blowjob (it's messy), lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry (ily ♥)

summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where most of the ppcu boys are gay porn stars~

(read this first ->) prologue | series masterlist

Joel never would have guessed he’d do something like this ten years ago. Hell, not even five years ago. He’s not even totally sure how he got here, if he’s honest with himself.

He just remembers an, admittedly shady, business-looking man coming up to him and shoving a business card in his face. He asked if Joel had ever slept with men before. Joel was taken aback and thought he was coming onto him in a really bizarre way. He had, but that was none of this man’s business as far as he was concerned.

“There’s no pressure, I promise. Here, my website is on the card. If you see what you like, you gimme a call, okay?” The man had winked, grabbed his coffee, and left.

Joel was left sitting in the middle of that coffee shop stunned into silence.

Later that night, sitting in front of the laptop Sarah nearly forced on him, he clumsily typed (using only his index fingers) the name of the website from the business card into the search bar.

Love Bites

The name and the man, Max Phillips according to the card, and his invasive question should’ve told him everything he needed to know, but Joel wasn’t prepared for the absolute onslaught of nudity he was met with.

“Jesus–” Joel mumbled to himself, slamming the laptop closed. Not that that would take it away, but he could hope. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head to himself. “The fuck you get yourself into, Miller?” He grumbled.

Slowly, and with one eye closed, he opened his laptop again. Once he got both eyes on it again, the website wasn’t… too bad. Well, it was still a porn site, but it wasn’t anything he hadn't seen before. He started looking around some more and didn’t bother turning it down. He lived alone now, both girls having moved out within the last year or so. He missed the hell out of them, and frankly, found himself bored more often than not. He and Tommy still owned Miller Contracting, but Joel stuck to the delegating and organizing part now. He had too many knee and back problems to keep up on the actual building part.

His finger rolled over to the “profiles” section of the website. He raised a brow and clicked on the trackpad hesitantly. There were several headshots of the men that made content for the website. He felt his cock twitch in his jeans and cleared his throat awkwardly, exhaling heavily. Well, it… had been a while. What could it hurt, right?

He did have a lot of options…

Dark eyes trailing over the men on the site, he smiled softly. They all had little biographies that explained what their sexualities and preferences were. He snorted a little at seeing two different cowboys; one gay and a little older than himself, the other bisexual and perhaps around the same age. The younger cowboy had a prominent mustache and had a preference for “tying people up”. Bit on the nose in Joel’s opinion, but there was something for everyone. The older cowboy tended toward more amateur-style, “romantic” videos. Joel’s heart softened a little, but decided he wasn’t really in the mood for that sort of thing.

In his search, he found just about everything; a messy haired, self proclaimed “adventurous” sort, a masked man that liked to roleplay, a clean cut looking man that considered himself a “romantic”. You name it, they probably had it. But his eyes landed on a particular man…

He had deep, intense eyes and a thick mustache. His hair was styled like he walked out of the 80s and he was wearing a thin gold chain. He had a bit of a Burt Reynolds thing going on, and normally that wouldn’t be something Joel was into, but this time, well…

Joel clicked on his – Javier’s – page and started browsing the videos he had available. His bio said he was “fluid and polyamorous”, but Joel didn’t know what that meant. Wow, he was… popular. That didn’t surprise Joel at all, but his eyes landed on one of Javier’s “solo” videos. It looked like it was filmed in his apartment, but it probably wasn’t from how well lit it was. The video started off like Joel guessed all of them did; a fancy graphic with the words “Love Bites” in the center of the screen before the sound effect of someone taking a bite out of something, and a faint moan. The tips of Joel’s ears warmed, but he pressed on, watching Javier walk onto screen and sit in the middle of the couch that was in frame.

Javier’s jeans were very tight, but maybe even moreso because of how fucking hard he looked to be. Joel swallowed a lump in his throat, his cock twitching again. Javier had an easy smirk on his handsome face, but he seemed like he didn’t have the cockiness that Joel expected a pornstar to have. The video seemed like it was personally sent to Joel and that thought made Joel’s cock stand to attention almost comically quickly. Unzipping his own jeans, he groaned at the constriction leaving, allowing him to breathe easier. He squeezed his cock and looked back at the video, Javier already getting started without him. He was stroking his own cock slowly, almost teasingly, biting a plump bottom lip. Joel moaned and shut his eyes for a quick second as he took himself in hand–

Ring, ring.

Joel groaned, squeezing his cock harder, and dug his phone out of his pocket. Tommy. He sighed and paused the video on Javier’s blissed out face and big hand wrapped around his–

Ring, ring.

“Christ, Tommy, what is it?” He grumbled, pressing the too-new-for-his-liking phone to his ear.

“Jesus, who pissed in your oatmeal this mornin’?” Tommy’s easy voice filtered in, a chuckle wrapped around his words. “And why are ya outta breath? Ya okay?”

“What–? Yeah, ‘m fine, Tommy. Why y’callin’?”

“Wonderin’ if ya could stop by tonight. Maria’s makin’ meatloaf and I know ya like it.”

Joel did really like Maria’s meatloaf. He sighed to himself and shut his laptop, his cock having softened considerably since hearing his brother’s voice. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, trying to subtly zip up his jeans while he held the phone against his shoulder. “I’ll come over in a little bit, just gotta… gonna make a phone call.”

“Ooh, ya finally have a date, old man?”

“Can it,” Joel grunted. “‘M forty-three. Ain’t that old. And no, I was gonna call Sarah. See how her classes are goin’.”

“Send her our love, will ya? ‘N tell her she’ll have a cousin soon. Maria’s ‘bout to pop any day. ‘M scared to death,” Tommy sighed. The happiness was clear in his voice, though. Joel was happy for him, and smiled to himself. “How’s Ellie doin’, by the way?”

“Good. Think she said somethin’ ‘bout joinin’ a… roller derby team? Don’t rightly know, but,” he shrugged to himself. “Sounded like somethin’ she’d like, way she was describin’ it.”

Talking on the phone with Tommy always went the same way. He’d find a way to chew up a couple hours of your time, but Joel never minded. Once they said their goodbyes and their I-love-yous, Joel picked up Max Phillips’ business card and sighed, rubbing his thumb over the phone number.

What could it hurt, right?

That was two years ago. He’s been working for Love Bites for two years and had been avoiding Javier Peña as much as he could.

Joel’s never been good at… initiating conversations. Ellie would always give him shit for it. She usually went up to whoever had caught Joel’s eye and slyly made it her goal to get them to come over to him.

But Ellie wasn’t here and she never would be. His girls knew what he did and even if they were a little concerned for him at first, they saw how much happier he’d been since joining. He was healthier, gaining a bit of “chub” as Sarah called it, and a healthier glow to his skin. He was on camera more often now, so he had to eat well and work out a little more. He didn’t do anything too crazy, and the audience that watched his videos had a lot of positive opinions and comments about his physique. It made him blush to think about it for too long, so he tried not to.

What was he saying?

Oh, right. Avoiding Javier Peña.

He’d had a huge crush on him ever since that first video he watched, and frankly, didn’t want to make a fool of himself if he talked to him. He’s filmed one video with him and it was the best Joel had felt in years. He almost came too quickly, and the video was supposed to be twenty minutes long. They had to pause so Joel could calm himself down, but Javier was patient and lovely with him. Javier had been doing this a lot longer than Joel had, so he wasn’t worried, which made Joel feel better. Just a little embarrassed. Afterwards, he had to leave, making up a story about seeing his girls for dinner that night.

“Javi!”

Joel’s eyes snapped up from his phone. He was in the middle of texting Sarah, saying that he’d call her when he got home from work. He had a scene with Dieter today.

And there he was. God. Joel’s cheeks flushed at the sight of Javier standing in the hall in his robe. He must’ve just finished his scene with Shane, the new kid. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the sound of Javier’s deep, commanding voice was enough to send a chill down Joel’s spine. Before he knew it, Javier was talking animatedly with Steve, another actor, as they walked off down the hall and disappearing around a corner.

He knew, realistically, relationships between porn actors could happen. Silva and Jake had been together for years. Joel’s problem with that was, well… Joel. His last real relationship was with Sarah’s mom years ago, and when the girls were in high school he had a relationship with this guy, Ezra for a while.

Smack!

“Jesus–!” Joel jumped, holding onto one of his ass cheeks protectively. Only one person would have done that.

“Hey, handsome,” Dieter grinned, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Joel’s jeans and squeezing. “Getting lost in Javi’s eyes again?” He winked.

“N-no! I am not,” Joel grumbled, finishing off his text and shoving his phone in his pocket.

Dieter snorted and rolled his eyes, then removed his hand to hold it out for Joel to take. “C’mon, big guy. You get to cum on my face today,” he smirked.

Filming with Dieter always felt good. He was a bit wild for Joel’s personal tastes, but he always made sure Joel was comfortable, and today was no different.

Joel was playing a “plumber” that needed to work on Dieter’s “pipes”. This of course led to Dieter offering to “pay” in his own way.

“Oh, come on, big guy like you doesn’t need money, right?” Dieter recited his lines expertly, running a hand down Joel’s t-shirt covered chest. “Bet it gets lonely doing this sort of work, huh?”

Joel had gotten a lot better at the acting part of things over the past couple of years. He was super stiff (and not in the right way) in the beginning, but now, he easily plastered on a smirk, eyes glued to Dieter’s lips. “Sometimes,” he shrugged, a big hand hovering over Dieter’s shoulder. Dieter saw the hand out of the corner of his eye and grinned, curling his fingers around Joel’s thick wrist and moving it down to his ass.

Joel smirked, squeezing the plump flesh appreciatively. “Bit forward o’ you,” he rumbled.

Dieter visibly shivered and bit his lip. “Sexy guy like you, of course I am,” he breathed. He leaned forward and kissed Joel messily, the hand on Joel’s torso moving down to unzip his jeans. Joel was already painfully hard and grunted into Dieter’s mouth when his pants were opened and lowered enough to pull his cock free. Dieter moaned and curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft, pumping rhythmically.

They stayed like that for a while; open mouth kisses, heavy breathing from Joel, and Dieter’s moans being picked up by the mics.

Dieter pulled away to look down at the thick cock in his hand and bit his lip at the sight. “Fuck,” he groaned, his own cock twitching in his sweats. “Can I suck your cock?” He looked up at Joel demurely, eyes big and nearly black with desire.

Joel forgot he was supposed to be acting for a minute and grunted, hips bucking into Dieter’s grasp. “F-fuck, yeah,” he nodded, eyes glazed over. Dieter smiled and guided Joel over to the couch on the set. Technically, Dieter was supposed to get on his knees in the “kitchen”, but he knew Joel wouldn’t be able to stand for that long with his back problems. Sometimes Dieter’s improv classes came in handy. Max couldn’t complain too much, as long as Dieter sucked Joel off, then the video was still following the script.

Joel grunted as he sat, hard cock swaying slightly. Dieter giggled a little and happily got down on his knees, hands traveling up and down Joel’s thighs appreciatively. “Such a pretty cock,” he hummed, licking his lips as he watched it twitch in front of him, a drop of pre-cum gathering at the tip.

“Why dontcha put that mouth to use, then?” Joel smirked, gripping the base and tapping the head against Dieter’s cheek. “Want your discount, right?”

Dieter smiled and opened his mouth wide, eyes shut in pure bliss. Joel gripped Dieter’s messy curls and held him still as he hit the head of his cock against Dieter’s tongue. Dieter moaned and opened his eyes, watching Joel’s face for any cues to stop. They never came, but it was something they all had to keep an eye on. When everything seemed to be going well, he happily wrapped his mouth around the head of Joel’s cock and started bobbing his head up and down.

He moaned, the vibrations traveling down Joel’s cock and up his spine, making Joel groan in return. “Mmm, knew you’d be good with your mouth,” he grinned, holding the back of Dieter’s head to set a pace Joel liked better.

Dieter heard a cameraman move to his right to get a better angle of his mouth, so he amped it up a little. He got messier, saliva dripping down along the sides of Joel’s shaft. Joel moaned weakly, resting his head on the back of the couch, but keeping one of his hands tangled in Dieter’s messy curls. Dieter started bobbing his head slower, eyes locked on Joel’s face as he moved further down his shaft, taking as much as he could down his throat. He choked slightly and pulled off, pre-cum and saliva covering his mouth and Joel’s cock. He smiled up at Joel and panted heavily, curling his fingers around the base to pump the thick cock.

Joel’s eyes rolled back and he grunted, hips bucking off the couch. “C’mere,” he breathed, heavy work boots landing heavily on the set floor as he stood. “Gonna fuck your face.”

Dieter shivered at the low timbre of Joel’s voice and nodded happily up at him. He pulled his sweats down and gripped his own cock in hand and started stroking himself rhythmically. Dieter opened his mouth for Joel obediently and nearly choked again when Joel shoved his cock down Dieter’s throat. He moaned weakly when Joel’s hips started moving, his heavy balls slapping against Dieter’s chin.

Dieter just had to take it, the lewd sounds of Joel fucking his face filling the otherwise quiet room. He fucking loved it because Joel was subtly massaging Dieter’s scalp and it sent shivers down his spine. His fist was almost a blur over his own cock and tears leaked out of his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks.

“Mmm, bein’ such a good boy f’me,” Joel grunted, biting his lip to rein it in a little. Dieter moaned at the praise, eyebrows downturned in pleasure. “Yeah? Like bein’ my good boy?”

Dieter whined and nodded as best he could, eyes completely glazed over. Joel slowed down his hips a little and let Dieter breathe for a minute. Dieter panted hard, a near-dopey smile on his face. “Come on my face,” he breathed heavily, extending his tongue for Joel. “Please.”

It was Joel’s turn to shiver as he slapped the head of his cock against Dieter’s face again. “Gonna have to earn it,” Joel smirked, reciting his lines as well as he could.

Dieter whined and pouted up at him, his own hand slowing down a little. He didn’t say anything, letting Joel continue.

“Make me come, and I’ll paint this pretty face o’ yours.”

Dieter’s face lit up and he curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft. He watched Joel’s face while he wrapped his lips around the head and bobbed his head. His free hand held Joel’s hip and subtly moved to his ass and squeezed. He moaned around Joel’s cock and shut his eyes briefly before obediently looking up at him, big eyes wet and innocent.

“Atta boy,” Joel grunted, cupping Dieter’s face lovingly. Dieter removed his mouth to kiss down his length as he stroked him, attaching his lips to one of Joel’s balls. “Mmm, fuck,” Joel breathed, tipping his head back.

The hand on Joel’s ass moved slightly until one of Dieter’s fingertips prodded at Joel’s asshole. Joel grunted in surprise and smiled down at Dieter. “Really want me all over ya, huh?”

“Yes,” Dieter nodded, sucking one of Joel’s balls into his mouth. “Please.”

“Keep talkin’ like that and– ooh, fuck – Jus’ might get your wish,” Joel panted, shutting his eyes. He felt the build up in his lower stomach, his cock twitching violently in Dieter’s hand. “C’mere, baby boy,” he grinned, taking his cock back to stroke himself over Dieter’s face.

Dieter was buzzing, lifting Joel’s t-shirt to lovingly caress his hairy tummy, mouth open wide and obedient.

Joel felt his balls draw up and his hips buck until– “Fuck–! Shit,” He moaned, thick ropes of come spurting out from the tip of his cock and landing on Dieter’s face and mouth. He caressed Dieter’s hair, thick fingers massaging his scalp while the other hand stroked himself until his balls were completely empty.

Dieter happily licked his mouth clean, and hid his face in Joel’s stomach, whimpering into the sweaty skin. He moaned weakly, his entire body trembling as he came, completely untouched. Dieter was the only one in the cast that could do that, and he loved showing it off as much as he could.

“Shit,” Joel smiled, petting Dieter’s sweaty curls back and out of his face. “Ain’t you a sight.”

“Cut!”

Dieter deflated, a huge grin on his face. He started giggling into Joel’s stomach and smiled up at him. “Fucking love your cock, Joel,” he hummed happily.

“That’s what you always say,” Joel snorted, helping him up onto his feet. Dieter was a little wobbly still and cuddled into Joel’s side. He always got a little clingy after a scene, but Joel didn’t mind. As different as they were, Joel would probably consider Dieter one of his closest friends. It always worked in their favor, their natural chemistry and closeness coming through the cameras.

They were handed a couple towels and some water, the both of them taking them gratefully. Max came up to them, his usual shit-eating grin on his face. Joel always thought Max reminded him of a vampire, with that mischievous glint in his eye that always seemed to be there.

“Great show, boys,” Max started. “Dieter, d’you mind if I steal Joel away for a second?”

Dieter whined and clinged onto Joel tighter. Joel grinned and hugged him back. “Sorry, boss, looks like he ain’t leavin’ anytime soon.”

Max rolled his eyes, but continued anyway. “Fine. Meant to tell you earlier, but things got rolling, you know how it is–”

“What is it, Max?”

“You’ve got a scene with Javier tomorrow.”

If there were a record player anywhere, Joel would probably hear it scratching right about now. Dieter paused too, and looked up at Joel with worried eyes. He knew all about Joel’s crush, and was always telling Joel to just go for it. Joel froze briefly, but tried to school his emotions as best he could.

“O-okay, um. What time?” He asked shakily, gripping Dieter’s fluffy robe tighter.

“I’m thinking around noon? That way Javier can prepare, y’know?”

Preparing was always done before a particularly intense scene. Joel tried really hard not to think about Javier wearing a plug for a while before coming to set.

“Right,” Joel nodded, cheeks going a little pink. “I’ll be there.”

“You’re the best, Joel!” Max snapped his fingers and walked off, talking to a couple of assistants.

Dieter tapped on his chest and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You really gotta say something, Joel,” he said softly.

Joel sighed and nodded. He knew that.

He just didn’t know what.

#joel miller #dieter bravo #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller series #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu fanfiction #oaksfics

280 notes · View notes

amethystarachnid · 1 month ago

Note

Please, please, I need to ask you for a part 2 of Snowy Love now... they had a little boy, an exact copy of Tony, and of course, his name is Anthony Edward Stark Jr. 🥰 and just as Tony promised, they are going back to the same place with their baby boy now 🥰 Tony is the best hubs and dad, always so soft and protective... one night, as they observe their beautiful baby boy sleeping so peacefully, Tony will tell her that he wants another one, and they decide to have another baby 🥰 if you want you can spicy things up too, thank you 😘

I love the idea of Tony and reader having a special place like this to go 🥰

SNOWY LOVE - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff, a tiny tiny spicy scene

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: short fanfic

ᯓ★ Part I

ᯓ★ Word count: 8k

ᯓ★ Summary: after your son, Edward, comes in the world your little Alps getaway get more interesting, so interesting that you and Tony decide you wouldn't mind another baby Stark.

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of birth, a little spicy scene

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The weeks leading up to your due date are a mix of excitement, nerves, and more than a few late-night talks about the baby’s name. You’d both been bouncing ideas around since the second trimester, but nothing had fully clicked for both of you. Then, one evening, Tony hit you with a proposition that he was sure would be a “slam dunk.”

“What if…” Tony begins, giving you his best salesman smile, “we make him a junior?”

You nearly choke on the sip of water you’re drinking. “Junior?”

“Think about it.” He leans forward, eyebrows raised, already envisioning it. “Anthony Edward Stark Junior. Our little legacy. Our kid gets a great name, I get a mini-me, and you get to say, ‘I’m married to Tony Stark Senior.’ Everybody wins.”

You stare at him, trying to process. “Tony, I don’t know… A junior? I feel like it’s setting up some pretty big expectations.”

He tilts his head, giving you a puppy-dog look. “What if we just call him Edward, though? Classic, timeless, elegant… just like his mom.”

You narrow your eyes, both charmed and trying not to roll your eyes. “You’re really playing the flattery angle here.”

Tony grins. “Is it working?”

“Fine,” you sigh with a smirk. “But I’m calling him Edward. You don’t get to sneak in any nicknames like ‘Tiny Tony’ or ‘Starky’ or anything weird, got it?”

He beams. “Deal. Edward it is.”

On the big day, when the contractions start, Tony morphs into a chaotic mix of superhero and headless chicken. The moment you tell him, he’s grabbing his jacket, his tablet, and two power banks (just in case, he insists). He practically hustles you out the door, giving the driver a set of instructions that makes it sound like you’re about to pull off an international heist rather than have a baby.

In the delivery room, Tony is trying his best to be calm and supportive, but his nerves start showing the minute you go into active labor.

“Alright, babe, you’ve got this,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Just… breathe! And maybe, uh, try some meditation?”

You give him a look that could melt his Iron Man suit. “Oh, really? Breathe? How insightful. Maybe I should just think calming thoughts while this tiny human makes his dramatic entrance, Tony.”

He swallows, wide-eyed, clearly realizing he’s treading dangerous ground. “Right. Just, you know, ignore me. I’m here. Quietly. Totally quiet.”

But every time a contraction hits, he’s there, full of commentary and ideas, most of which involve technology he wishes he could be using. “You know, I could invent a pressure reducer—some kind of… I don’t know, anti-gravity cradle? That way, all the pressure is off you—”

“Tony!” you gasp between contractions, managing to laugh despite the pain. “Focus, please. No inventions right now.”

Finally, after what feels like hours of huffing, puffing, and a whole range of Tony’s attempts at encouragement (that occasionally backfire), you hear the first cries of your son. The room goes still, and Tony’s hand grips yours a little tighter, his face softening with awe as the doctor holds up your baby boy, all squirmy and red-faced.

You’re exhausted but overwhelmed with joy as they place him on your chest. The little guy blinks up at you, and as you look down, you’re struck by how much he already looks like his dad. From the dark hair to the tiny furrow in his brow, he’s unmistakably Tony’s son.

Tony’s voice breaks the silence, soft and filled with wonder. “Oh, look at him… He’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, stroking your finger over his tiny hand. “He really is.”

After a few moments, Tony leans over, whispering so only you and the baby can hear. “Hey, Edward. Welcome to the team, little guy.”

You laugh softly, glancing up at Tony with a smirk. “I suppose we’ll let you keep the ‘Anthony Edward Junior’ for the birth certificate.”

Tony grins, looking a little misty-eyed. “And we’ll call him Edward. Just like we said.”

The baby shifts in your arms, yawning with a seriousness that makes you and Tony both laugh. “Look at that,” Tony says, chuckling, “he’s already judging us. He’s got the Stark stare down.”

“Oh, he’s definitely yours,” you say, tracing his tiny nose. “There’s no denying it.”

As the nurse takes Edward for his check-up, Tony stays close, keeping one eye on the baby and one on you, as if he can’t decide who needs more protection. At one point, Edward lets out a small cry, and Tony practically jumps out of his seat, only to be gently waved back by the nurse.

“Alright, alright, kiddo’s tough,” Tony mutters to himself, trying to act casual. Then, under his breath, he adds, “I’d better teach him about building armor for all life’s tough moments. Soon as he can walk.”

You smile, shaking your head. “Not just yet, Tony.”

“Fine. Maybe in a few years.” He smiles down at you, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “You did amazing, by the way. Both of you.”

Later, as you’re resting in the quiet room, Edward nestled in your arms, Tony sits by your side, his gaze fixed on the little bundle between you. He reaches over, brushing a hand over Edward’s dark hair.

“I have a feeling this little guy’s going to keep us on our toes,” he says, his voice warm with anticipation.

You chuckle. “I think he’s going to be just like his dad. Confident, a little dramatic, always ready for an adventure.”

Tony grins. “Then he’s got some pretty big shoes to fill. But don’t worry, kid.” He leans close to Edward, whispering, “You’ve got a head start. You’ve got the best mom in the world.”

Your heart swells, and you glance over at Tony, feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude. “And the best dad.”

He reaches for your hand, holding it tight. “Here’s to the new adventure, Mrs. Stark. Alps trips, tiny skis, and all.”

And as Edward settles back down in your arms, his little hand wrapped around Tony’s pinky, you know you wouldn’t trade this moment, this family, for anything in the world.

November brings a fresh blanket of snow over the Alps, and true to his word, Tony whisks you and baby Edward back to the chalet for your first family trip as a trio. But this time, Tony has leveled up his promise a little bit.

“Alright, brace yourself,” he says with a smirk as the three of you arrive at the chalet’s entrance.

“Tony, what did you do?” you ask, eyeing him with playful suspicion.

He opens the door with a flourish. “Meet the new and improved chalet,” he declares as you step inside and notice everything from the original cozy stone walls to the carved wooden beams… looking the exact same as they had before. It’s still the chalet you remember, but now, as you glance around, you notice subtle but elegant upgrades: a sleeker kitchen, plush couches, perfectly arranged warm lighting, and something tells you Tony’s fingerprints are on each and every detail.

“JARVIS?” you call out, testing your theory.

“Yes, Mrs. Stark,” JARVIS replies smoothly, his voice filling the room. “I am here to assist you with anything you need during your stay.”

You look at Tony, arching an eyebrow. “You put JARVIS in the chalet?”

Tony grins. “What’s a chalet without a little Stark-level luxury? Besides, he’s got the heat, lights, baby-monitoring, and full security on lock. Plus, the moment Edward gets fussy, he’s going to give us gentle background white noise. Like having a top-notch babysitter that we don’t have to pay.”

You laugh, holding baby Edward closer to you. “Only you would find a way to make a rustic mountain getaway smart-tech enabled.”

Edward blinks up at the sound of JARVIS, his big brown eyes going wide. Tony leans over, stroking Edward’s tiny head with a grin. “See, kiddo? We’ve got all the comforts of home—just with a better view.”

Of course, while the chalet is all set up and the vacation is planned to perfection, the reality of bringing a seven-month-old to the Alps sets in quickly. For one thing, Edward seems endlessly fascinated with everything in sight—the crackling fire, the pinecone decorations, the view outside—but especially, he loves testing his new babbling skills at full volume whenever you’re trying to enjoy a quiet moment by the fireplace. And when it comes time to bundle him up in his little winter gear for some snow time, things get complicated fast.

Tony holds up the puffy snowsuit, squinting at it like it’s a complex piece of machinery. “Okay, so we just… put him in here? I don’t think he’ll fit. Are you sure this is his size?”

You stifle a laugh. “Yes, Tony. Babies’ clothes just tend to look a little oversized. Trust me, he’ll fit.”

After a few minutes of wrestling with the baby-sized marshmallow suit, Edward is all bundled up, looking a little like a tiny, slightly disgruntled snowman, his cheeks poking out from the snug hood.

“Well, look at you!” Tony coos, chuckling as he lifts Edward up. “You’re ready to brave Everest.” He leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Just don’t expect us to climb it anytime soon, okay?”

You take a few steps outside, holding Edward’s tiny mittened hand, and Tony follows with a knowing smile. “Alright, team, it’s time to introduce the little guy to snow. First snowball?” he asks, already forming a little powdery ball.

“Nothing too rough, Stark,” you say with a laugh. But before you know it, Tony tosses a soft, fluffy snowball—more like a gentle powder puff—onto Edward’s lap.

Edward stares at the snowball with a very serious expression, reaching out to poke at it. His face lights up as his tiny mitten sinks into the snow, and he looks up at you, babbling excitedly.

“See?” Tony says, grinning. “Total natural. And he hasn’t even tried sledding yet!”

You and Tony spend the morning showing Edward the snow-covered world, taking him out to a little sled where he sits on your lap, squealing in delight as Tony gently pulls the sled along. Every now and then, he looks up at you with pure joy, and your heart just melts.

Later that evening, after you’ve managed to get Edward fed and snuggled into bed (which was an ordeal in itself, as he spent half the time grabbing at your hair and Tony’s glasses), you sit by the fireplace, wrapped in one of the soft blankets Tony stocked up on. Tony finally joins you after setting up a baby monitor with JARVIS’s help, plopping down on the couch beside you with a tired but satisfied smile.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “Well, we survived the first day. Barely.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s different with a baby, isn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he says, looking over at the baby monitor and grinning as he sees Edward sleeping peacefully. “But it’s kind of the best thing ever.”

You smile, thinking of all the little moments from the day—Edward’s excitement over the snow, his curious little face peeking out from the snowsuit, the way he’d babbled at the mountains like he was having a full conversation with them. “It really is.”

Tony’s hand drifts to your shoulder, and he kisses the top of your head. “Remember what I promised you? Yearly trips to the Alps, no matter what.”

You close your eyes, soaking in the warmth and the soft crackling of the fire. “And you’ve outdone yourself, Mr. Stark. This chalet is perfect.”

“Well, only the best for you and our little snow adventurer.” He chuckles, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “I can’t wait until he’s old enough to really take on the slopes. I’ll teach him everything I know.”

You raise an eyebrow, laughing. “Oh, so he’ll be an expert on the bunny slopes?”

Tony gasps in mock offense. “Excuse me! I did those bunny slopes with you for safety reasons.”

You grin, nudging him playfully. “Sure, sure.”

For the rest of the night, you both fall into comfortable conversation, talking about your favorite parts of the trip and laughing over Edward’s tiny adventures of the day. And even though there’s a new level of exhaustion that comes with traveling as parents, there’s also a new kind of joy, too—the kind that fills your heart in ways you never could have imagined.

As you settle in beside Tony, his arm around you and the fire casting warm shadows across the room, you feel it—the deep contentment of being right where you’re meant to be. You have each other, a beautiful family, and all the memories waiting to be made on snowy Alps trips just like this one.

The next morning, you and Tony have a grand plan: to get a family photo in the snow with the Alps as a backdrop. You picture a sweet little scene—Edward bundled up, the mountains glistening in the background, and you and Tony looking like that perfect, smiling family on a holiday card. But getting a baby and two semi-coordinated adults to cooperate for a “simple” photo quickly becomes its own comedy of errors.

First, there’s the task of getting Edward back into his snowsuit, which he’s now decided he hates. He’s wiggling, giggling, and pulling at the hood the entire time, giving Tony a run for his money as he tries to zip up the tiny suit.

“Alright, Edward, c’mon,” Tony pleads, one hand struggling with the zipper while Edward bats at his dad’s face with a mittened hand. “Just work with me here, buddy. Think of the memories.”

Edward lets out a little squeal that sounds suspiciously like laughter, and you can’t help but giggle as Tony finally manages to get the zipper all the way up.

“There we go!” Tony cheers, looking immensely proud, like he’s just invented a new suit himself.

With the baby finally bundled, you two tackle the next challenge: finding a spot outside where the snow isn’t too deep. Tony scouts ahead, and with JARVIS chiming in via earpiece to give him topographical tips, you both make your way to the perfect spot, nestled near a tall pine tree with a breathtaking view of the snow-capped Alps in the background.

Tony positions his phone on a nearby rock, sets the timer, and then hurries back to join you and Edward. But as he leans in, trying to hold Edward steady, his hand slips, and suddenly he’s teetering backward, flailing as he tries to catch his balance on the icy snow.

“Oh no—!” you gasp, holding Edward securely as Tony lets out a string of surprised curses and lands straight in a snowbank, his legs flopping over the edge like a giant starfish.

The phone’s camera timer goes off with a cheery click. The result? A perfectly crisp shot of you holding Edward, smiling serenely while Tony lies in the background, half-buried in snow, looking thoroughly betrayed by gravity.

You’re laughing so hard that Edward starts to giggle too, a bubbly little laugh that only makes the whole situation even funnier. Tony sits up, looking bemused but amused, his face pink from the cold. “Okay, that’s… that’s one for the family album.”

You grin, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “It’s a classic already.”

Not one to let the snow get the best of him, Tony gets up with determination, brushing the snow off with dramatic flair. “Alright, no one messes with a Stark like that. We’re getting this shot, and it’s going to be flawless.”

On attempt number two, Tony positions the phone on a steadier surface, checks the snow for any hidden ice, and rejoins you, looping an arm around your shoulder as you all face the camera with bright smiles.

Just as the timer ticks down, Edward reaches up, grabbing Tony’s nose with an impressive grip for a seven-month-old. The photo snaps just as Tony lets out a squawk of surprise, his expression halfway between amusement and “I’ve been captured by my own child.” The result is another photo that, while completely unscripted, somehow captures everything you love about this little family adventure.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” Tony laughs, taking a look at the new photo. “Apparently, we’re destined for candid shots only.”

You shrug, kissing Edward’s chubby little cheek. “Maybe that’s even better. We’re a chaotic family, Tony—why pretend otherwise?”

As you all make your way back to the chalet, Tony leans in, whispering, “Just so you know, I’m sending both of those pictures to Happy for our holiday card options. Let him decide which one says ‘Stark Family Adventure’ the best.”

Later, cozy by the fire with Edward dozing in his crib nearby, you and Tony swipe through the day’s photos, laughing over each and every attempt. The best shots—the ones where you’re all genuinely laughing, snow in your hair and mismatched expressions—are far from perfect, but they’re filled with real joy. And as you snuggle close, you know this will be the kind of memory you’ll treasure forever, a perfectly imperfect adventure in the Alps with the people you love most.

Three years later, you’re back at the chalet for your annual Alps getaway, and it’s no surprise that Edward is now an unstoppable force. At three years old, he’s practically a mirror image of Tony—a toddler with boundless energy, unfiltered curiosity, and a confidence level that has you equal parts impressed and on high alert.

“Okay, buddy,” Tony says, crouching down to zip up Edward’s puffy little parka. “Remember the rules for today. One, no climbing any trees. Two, no running past—”

“Got it!” Edward chirps, promptly bouncing up and bolting out the door, his tiny boots pattering across the snow.

You laugh, throwing Tony a knowing look as he sighs. “He’s got the Stark attention span, too,” you say.

Tony smirks. “Only the best traits, right?”

Outside, Edward has already discovered a stick and is poking it into the snow, chattering away to himself like he’s narrating his own discovery channel show. As you watch, he picks up a pine cone and waves it over his head like it’s a prized artifact.

“Look, Daddy!” he calls, holding up the pine cone with immense pride. “I found treasure!”

Tony, trying to keep up with Edward’s imaginative pace, kneels beside him, inspecting the pine cone with all the gravitas of a museum curator. “Ah, yes. A rare alpine pine cone. I’d say that’s worth at least ten points.”

“Ten points!” Edward exclaims, his face lighting up with joy.

You watch the two of them, warmth filling your chest. They’re a perfectly matched pair: Tony, the ever-encouraging, slightly mischievous dad, and Edward, who treats every rock, snowflake, and icicle as if it’s the most magical thing he’s ever seen.

Before long, Tony has convinced Edward that a snowball fight is in order. The two of them square off, and it’s a comical sight—Tony with his practiced aim and Edward with his… well, enthusiastic but chaotic form of defense, which mostly involves flinging snow in every possible direction.

You try to sit back and watch, but before you know it, Edward has roped you in. “Mommy! Help me!” he calls, his tiny face flushed with excitement.

“Oh, you’re going down, Stark!” you call, laughing as you crouch beside Edward, forming snowballs as fast as he can toss them.

Tony’s attempts at pretending to be defeated are the funniest part of it all. He stumbles around dramatically, flinging snow in the air and making ridiculous sound effects every time Edward hits him with a snowball. Edward laughs so hard he nearly tumbles backward, and his laughter is contagious, echoing through the snowy landscape around you.

After an hour of snowy chaos, you all retreat back inside, red-cheeked and chilled but perfectly happy. You wrap Edward in a cozy blanket, and he nestles up beside you on the couch, his head resting against your shoulder, still babbling about his “great snow victory.”

Tony sits on your other side, wrapping an arm around you both. “You think he’s going to be this wild every year?”

You smile, brushing a stray bit of snow out of Edward’s hair. “If he’s anything like you? Definitely.”

Tony laughs, his eyes softening as he looks down at Edward, who’s drifting off in the comfort of your arms. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And in that moment, in the warmth of the chalet with your little family bundled together, you can’t imagine a better tradition. The mountains, the snow, and these beautiful, hilarious memories—they’re your family’s own perfect kind of magic.

After a long day of helping a highly enthusiastic but wildly unpredictable Edward navigate the beginner slopes, you and Tony are both thoroughly exhausted. Getting Edward to sleep has been an adventure on its own—he insisted on wearing his snow hat to bed, hugging his newfound pine cone “treasure” like a beloved teddy bear. But at last, he’s tucked under the cozy blankets, his soft snores filling the room as he finally rests.

You and Tony stand in the doorway, watching him with a mix of adoration and relief. Tony wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both gaze at your son.

“Out like a light,” Tony murmurs softly, a trace of awe in his voice. “Gotta hand it to the Alps—only place that can actually wear this little guy out.”

You chuckle, leaning back into his embrace. “Only took skiing lessons, a snowball fight, and an epic bedtime negotiation to get him here.”

Tony smirks. “Can you blame him? Kid knows what he wants.” He drops a light kiss on your shoulder, his voice turning playfully suggestive. “Wonder where he gets that from?”

You roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “Pretty sure that’s all you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony pulls you closer, pressing his lips near your ear. “I think you underestimate just how… persuasive you can be, Mrs. Stark.”

You laugh softly, feeling the blush rise in your cheeks as Tony’s hands slip around your waist. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

He feigns innocence. “Just stating the facts. And for the record, I’m pretty persuasive too. I mean, look at this kid.” He nods toward Edward’s sleeping form. “That’s a whole collaboration project right there. A masterpiece, if I do say so myself.”

You shake your head, trying to keep a straight face. But then, as you glance back at Edward, all tucked up in his little cocoon of blankets, the thought slips out of you before you can catch it: “I wouldn’t mind adding to the… collection.”

Tony goes still, and you feel his arms tighten around you, the grin in his voice unmistakable. “Oh, really?”

You blush, nudging him with your elbow, but you don’t deny it. “Maybe…”

“Maybe, she says,” he murmurs, amusement dancing in his tone as he steps back, just enough to turn you around and face him. His eyes are sparkling with a familiar mischief, and you know exactly where this is going. “Well, Mrs. Stark, I don’t believe in wasting time.”

Without another word, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you down the hall to your room with a determined grin. He pauses only to nudge the door shut with his foot and click the lock, just in case Edward decides to wander in on his way to a midnight snack.

The next morning, you both shuffle into the kitchen, happily disheveled but somewhat groggy after last night’s, uh, activities. Tony pours you both coffee while you tackle the task of assembling breakfast for the family, the scent of coffee filling the chalet. Just as you finish plating the pancakes, you hear the pitter-patter of small feet racing down the hall.

Edward appears in the doorway, all tousled bedhead and wide, curious eyes. He grins, hopping up into his chair with more energy than either of you can muster, and starts digging into his breakfast.

“Did you sleep well, buddy?” you ask, trying to keep the knowing smile off your face as Tony gives you a wink over his coffee mug.

“Yeah, I did,” Edward says, then tilts his head in thought. “Except for the weird noises.”

Your fork pauses mid-air. Tony freezes, eyebrows raising slightly as he trades a look with you.

“Oh? What kind of noises, honey?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light and innocent.

Edward scrunches his face, deep in toddler-level contemplation. “I dunno… kind of like ‘thump thump’ and then like… a squeaky sound?” He shrugs, perfectly unaware of the red hue creeping up both your faces. “I thought it was maybe animals outside. Like a bear!”

Tony chokes a little on his coffee, quickly composing himself as he nods, very seriously. “You know what? That’s exactly what it was. Just some… mountain animals. Bears, probably. Or… squirrels. Could’ve been squirrels too, I’d bet.”

Edward looks skeptical. “Squirrels? Squirrels go ‘squeak squeak’?”

You nod, putting on your best parental poker face. “Oh, absolutely. These Alps squirrels are, uh, very vocal.”

“And super fast,” Tony adds, trying to keep a straight face. “They must’ve just been scurrying around outside.”

Satisfied with this explanation, Edward returns to his breakfast, the mystery solved in his mind. But Tony can’t help himself—he sneaks a hand over, giving your knee a quick squeeze and winking at you over his mug, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips as he whispers, “Squirrels, huh?”

You bite back a laugh, nudging him with your foot under the table. “Keep it up, Stark, and you’ll be explaining squirrel noises for years to come.”

And as Edward chatters away about his plans for another day of snowy adventures, you and Tony share a quiet smile, thinking about how this mountain hideaway has become even more special to your family—memories made in the snow, and, apparently, memories made with a little help from the “squirrels.”

It’s a crisp spring afternoon in New York, and you’re back at Stark Tower, watching Edward chase his toy cars around the living room with endless energy. You can’t help smiling as he zooms his favorite red race car across the floor, making all the appropriate “vroom” noises, blissfully unaware that his whole world is about to change. You’ve just returned from the doctor, and the news you have to share with Tony feels like a small, joyful secret waiting to burst.

After waiting for the right moment all afternoon, you find Tony tinkering in his workshop. He’s bent over some project, half of his attention on JARVIS narrating stock reports, but as soon as he sees you standing in the doorway, he brightens up and sets down his tools.

“Hey, gorgeous. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He smirks, reaching for your hand and pulling you close.

“Well, I thought you might want a break,” you say, feeling the excitement bubble in your chest. “I actually have… some pretty big news.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow arches, his interest clearly piqued as he looks at you with that familiar Stark sparkle. “Do tell.”

Taking a deep breath, you let the words tumble out. “Tony, I’m pregnant.”

For a split second, there’s only silence as he processes what you’ve said. And then his face lights up with a joy so pure it makes your heart swell.

“You’re serious?” he whispers, almost as if he can’t believe it.

You nod, your smile growing wider. “We’re having another baby, Tony.”

His response is immediate; he wraps you in his arms, pulling you close, and you feel the warmth of his kiss on your forehead as he lets out a small, breathless laugh. “Another baby… wow. I’m gonna have two little Starks running around?” He pulls back to look at you, his hands on your shoulders, his gaze soft and a little awed. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Well, thank you,” you laugh. “But this is all teamwork.”

“Oh, believe me,” he says, his expression growing playfully mischievous, “I remember the teamwork.”

You give him a light smack on the chest, rolling your eyes. “Focus, Stark. We have another little person to tell the news to, remember?”

Tony’s eyes widen, glancing toward the hallway where Edward’s little voice can be heard playing. “Oh, you mean the future big brother. How do you think he’ll take it?”

“Honestly?” You shrug. “No idea. But I think he’ll be excited… once he gets past any confusion.”

Tony grins, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of telling Edward. “Let’s do it.”

You both head to the living room, where Edward is still entirely focused on his toy car, making it zoom up the arm of the couch and fly through the air before landing it perfectly on the carpet. At three and a half years old, he’s the spitting image of his father: curious, energetic, and already a little charmer. When he sees you and Tony approaching, he stops mid-vroom, looking up with big, curious eyes.

“Hey, big guy,” Tony says, crouching down to Edward’s level. “Mommy and I have some special news for you.”

Edward’s eyes light up with interest. “News?”

You smile, sitting down next to him. “Yes, honey. You’re going to be a big brother.”

Edward’s little face scrunches up in confusion. “Big… brother?”

“Yes,” you say, glancing at Tony for support. “That means Mommy has a baby in her belly, and when it’s ready, you’ll have a little brother or sister.”

Edward’s eyes widen even more, and he stares at your stomach, looking half-confused, half-impressed. “Mommy ate a baby?”

Tony immediately bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but laugh too. You shake your head, gently taking Edward’s little hand and placing it on your belly. “No, honey, Mommy didn’t eat a baby. The baby is growing in here. And in a few months, you’re going to have a little sibling.”

Edward’s hand stays on your belly, his face absolutely serious as he contemplates this information. “So… the baby is just there?” He presses a bit, as if expecting to feel something.

Tony chimes in, his voice warm. “Yep. Just there, buddy. Growing a little more every day.”

Edward’s face slowly shifts from confusion to excitement, his smile growing as he processes what it means. “I’m going to have a baby to play with?”

“Exactly,” you say, brushing his hair out of his face. “You’re going to be a big brother. And that means you get to help take care of the baby, teach them new things, and, when they’re big enough, play together.”

Edward’s grin is so wide now that it practically glows. “I’m gonna be a big brother!” He pauses, squinting up at Tony. “Like… like how Daddy is in charge of everyone?”

Tony grins, clearly enjoying this line of thought. “Well, not exactly. You’ll be a big brother, which means you’ll get to show the baby how to do all the fun stuff, like building towers and—”

“And playing cars!” Edward finishes with enthusiasm. “I’m gonna teach them everything!”

You exchange a tender smile with Tony, watching as Edward begins to babble on about all the things he’ll show his little sibling, his excitement growing with each idea. You can see Tony’s eyes soften as he watches Edward, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Edward scrambles off the couch and stands right in front of your belly, crossing his arms with determination. “Baby, you have to come out soon so I can show you everything, okay?”

You chuckle, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’ll be a few more months, sweetheart, but the baby will hear you.”

Edward nods seriously, placing both hands on your stomach as if he’s already the most devoted big brother. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry. I’m gonna be here to teach you all the important stuff.”

Tony chuckles, pulling you close with an arm around your shoulder. “I think this baby has a pretty awesome big brother waiting for them.”

Edward looks up at both of you, his face filled with pure, innocent excitement. “Is the baby going to look like me?”

“Maybe!” you say, smiling at his curiosity. “Or maybe the baby will look like Daddy.”

“Or you!” Tony adds, squeezing your shoulder. “But one thing’s for sure, they’re going to be very lucky to have you as their big brother.”

Edward beams, his eyes bright with pride. Then he suddenly looks thoughtful. “Does that mean I get to be in charge of them? Like when they don’t want to play?”

You and Tony share a glance, stifling laughter. “Well, being a big brother means you’re a helper,” you say. “And that means being patient and kind.”

Edward thinks about this, nodding slowly. “I can do that,” he says seriously. “I’m going to be the best big brother ever.”

With that, he dashes back to his toy cars, already chatting to them about his new sibling as if they, too, need to know the news. You and Tony watch him with affection, sharing a moment of pure contentment.

“Not bad, huh?” Tony murmurs, his hand slipping around your waist as he pulls you close.

“Not bad at all,” you reply, leaning into him. “I think he’s going to be amazing.”

Tony chuckles, his gaze softening as he watches Edward play. “You know, if he’s anything like me, that baby is going to have a lot of excitement to look forward to.”

“Let’s just hope they balance each other out,” you laugh. “Otherwise, I think I’ll have my hands full.”

Tony gives you a teasing smile. “I think you already do, Mrs. Stark.”

The snow has blanketed the Italian Alps in a serene white hush, and you can’t help but smile as you look out the chalet window, feeling at peace even with the slight ache in your lower back. You’re nine months pregnant, and the baby could come any day now, but you wouldn’t have missed this trip for the world—not when it’s become such a special tradition for your family. You’d made sure Tony understood that before you left. Despite his protests, he finally agreed. But only under the condition that you’d “take it easy” and let him handle absolutely everything.

The chalet has become even more luxurious, thanks to Tony’s constant upgrades and “adjustments.” And though it’s outfitted with everything you could possibly need, from a medical suite to Jarvis-powered heating control, Tony is still on edge. You feel his watchful gaze follow you even as you wander just a few steps around the cozy living room. Even more surprising, Edward seems just as watchful, hovering nearby with a little furrowed brow that mimics his father’s.

“Mama, you need more water?” he asks for the third time in an hour, holding up a glass in his little mittened hand, though he looks a bit wobbly carrying it.

You smile, reaching down to take it. “Thank you, sweetie. You know, I think I’m good for now.”

He looks relieved, climbing up onto the couch beside you and cuddling into your side, immediately leaning down to put his face near your belly. It’s become his favorite spot, his “sister perch,” as he calls it. “Hi, baby Mia,” he whispers, his breath tickling your belly. “I got Mama water like you need. But you gotta wait a little bit, okay? ‘Cause you’re supposed to come after Christmas.”

You giggle, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “I think she’s listening, Eddie.”

Tony walks in from the kitchen with his own cup of coffee and grins, watching the two of you with unmistakable fondness. He’s got his eye on Edward, who’s started this protective routine almost as if on cue. You’ve noticed that ever since you arrived, Edward has been watching you with extra concern, following you room to room with a serious expression that makes him look adorably like a miniature version of Tony.

“Keeping an eye on Mama, huh?” Tony asks, dropping into the armchair beside you. He catches Edward’s eye and gives him a wink, which Edward dutifully returns with a nod.

“Daddy said I gotta be extra good and make sure you and Mia are okay,” Edward explains seriously, his hand now gently patting your belly. “Because if she comes early, it’s up to me to keep you safe too.”

You glance over at Tony, arching a brow. “So, you’ve enlisted a tiny helper?”

Tony smirks, leaning back in his chair with a mock-casual expression. “Well, let’s just say I figured another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt. Especially with someone as stubborn as you, Mrs. Stark, insisting on a nine-month-pregnant trip to the Alps.”

You roll your eyes, stifling a laugh. “Oh, so now I’m the stubborn one?”

He just grins, leaning forward to gently place his hand beside Edward’s, rubbing soothing circles across your belly. “Mia, just for the record, we’d prefer it if you’d wait a little longer to make your debut, okay? Let’s give Mommy a couple more quiet nights.”

Edward chimes in, “Yeah, you stay in there, Mia!” He lowers his voice to a loud whisper, as though she might be eavesdropping. “Daddy says it’s cozy and warm in there.”

Watching Tony and Edward both focused so intently on you and the baby makes you feel an overwhelming rush of affection. Tony may be playfully aloof at times, but you know how protective he is, and seeing Edward’s instinct to care for you just as much—it’s almost too much for your heart to handle.

Over the next few days, their vigilance only increases. Edward insists on helping with every little task, from picking up anything you drop to insisting you don’t leave the couch without him.

One afternoon, you’re sitting near the fire, Tony stretched out beside you with Edward nestled between you both. Edward has his hand on your belly, his little face serious as he leans over, “talking” to Mia about all the things he’ll show her once she’s born. You glance over at Tony, who’s pretending to read a book but has a smile on his face, clearly listening in.

“Yeah, and I’ll show you the big mountain,” Edward whispers to your belly. “And all the squirrels! But you gotta wait a little ‘cause you’re too tiny now.”

“Big brother’s got it all figured out, huh?” you murmur, looking over at Tony.

Tony gives a soft laugh. “He’s thorough, what can I say?”

When evening falls, you sit with Tony as Edward helps him prepare dinner in the kitchen. Tony’s pretending not to notice that Edward is sneaking more carrot slices than he’s putting in the salad, and you’re listening to their banter with a smile. Just as Tony finishes the final stir, he glances over at you, his eyes brightening.

“Alright, gorgeous, dinner’s served.” He and Edward bring everything over to the table, setting it up with an odd mix of finesse and excitement. Edward clambers into his chair, looking proudly at the setup.

As you all dig in, Edward turns to you, as serious as ever. “Mama, do you think Mia can eat with us next year?”

You chuckle, nodding. “I think she’ll be joining us for a lot of meals, honey. And you can help show her how everything works.”

“I’m good at showing stuff,” Edward says, sounding very grown-up. He stabs his fork into his food, then pauses to look at you. “Mommy, is Mia gonna need to wait for food like me?”

“Maybe at first,” you say, glancing at Tony as you add, “But she’ll have a big brother who can teach her all about snacks.”

Tony nods seriously, reaching over to give Edward a high-five. “That’s right, buddy. You’ll have to show her all the important stuff—especially the snacks.”

Edward beams, looking very pleased with himself. Dinner continues in this cozy, easy rhythm, filled with little jokes and laughter, until you find yourself feeling so relaxed you almost forget how close you are to your due date.

Late that night, after Edward is tucked in, you and Tony settle into bed, and he wraps his arms around you from behind, his hand resting instinctively on your belly. You sigh, leaning into his warmth, grateful for the peace and quiet.

“Think she’s getting cozy in there?” Tony murmurs, rubbing small circles on your belly.

“She seems content,” you whisper back, smiling. “But then again, so am I.”

A comfortable silence falls between you as Tony presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I can’t believe we’re going to have two little ones soon.”

You chuckle. “And you doubted our Alps trip.”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Hey, better safe than sorry. If I had my way, we’d be back in New York near the best hospital in the state.”

“Relax,” you say, lacing your fingers through his. “We’ve got everything we need right here.”

And as you lie there, cradled in Tony’s arms with the baby softly moving beneath your hand, you feel a deep, calm certainty—no matter where you are, as long as your family is by your side, everything will be exactly as it should be.

The evening is peaceful as you sit by the fireplace in the chalet, warming up after a full day spent playing in the snow. Tony’s got an arm around your shoulders, holding you close, while Edward is curled up on the rug in front of you, arranging his toys with focused concentration. You’re enjoying the rare calm, your hand resting on your belly, feeling the little nudges and kicks that Mia has made her daily ritual.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp, intense pressure low in your abdomen—a sensation that makes you gasp, your hand gripping Tony’s arm on instinct.

“Hey, you okay?” Tony looks at you, his brow furrowing in concern. Edward glances up too, his toy race car frozen mid-drive as he watches you with wide eyes.

“Um… I think…” Another wave hits you, stronger this time, making you tense. You can’t help but wince as a rush of pain makes it clear exactly what’s happening. “Tony, I think it’s time.”

“Time? Time for—oh!” Tony’s face goes through a series of rapid changes, from confusion to realization to full-blown panic. “Time! Okay, okay. That’s fine. We knew this was coming. I’ve got this.” But his eyes are wide, and his hands are already shaking as he reaches for his phone, practically tossing it out of his pocket in his haste.

Edward’s face scrunches up with worry. “Mama, are you okay? Is Mia coming now?”

You manage a reassuring smile for him, though it’s strained. “Yes, sweetheart. Mia’s on her way.”

Edward’s little mouth forms a perfect “O” as he stands there, frozen with his toy car clutched in his hand. “But she’s not supposed to come yet!” He looks to Tony for confirmation, a touch of panic in his voice. “Daddy, she’s coming early!”

“Uh, yeah, she sure is, buddy,” Tony mutters, trying to steady himself as he dials for the hospital. But when the call goes unanswered, he swears softly under his breath, his face paling. “Right. Nearest hospital it is. I’ve got this. Totally got this. Y/N, do you need a bag? Should I carry you?”

You laugh—well, as much as you can while clutching your belly. “Tony, just help me to the car. And grab the bag we packed in the bedroom. It’s all set.”

He nods, snapping into action as he wraps an arm around you, helping you up as gently as he can. Edward trails closely, his eyes fixed on you, looking like he’s ready to burst into tears. “Mama, is it going to hurt a lot?”

You nod, managing a comforting smile. “It’s going to be okay, Eddie. But yes, sometimes it does hurt a bit.”

With a nod, he straightens up, puffing out his little chest as if he’s trying to be brave for you. “I’ll protect you, Mama,” he says with a firmness that makes Tony’s mouth twitch, though he’s too frantic to fully appreciate the cuteness of it.

Tony helps you out to the car, keeping an arm firmly around you while Edward scrambles into his seat in the back, buckling himself with serious focus. He’s quiet as he watches Tony settle you in, his gaze darting between the two of you.

“Okay, everyone’s in. We’re good. We’re going to the hospital,” Tony announces, gripping the wheel and peeling out of the driveway with more speed than finesse.

The drive is quiet, save for Tony’s constant mutterings and reassurances. “Almost there, babe. Hang on. We’ve got this.”

Edward, still wide-eyed and silent, keeps glancing from Tony to you, his little hands clasped in his lap. Finally, he leans forward and says softly, “Daddy, is Mia going to come soon?”

Tony gives him a reassuring smile in the rearview mirror. “Pretty soon, buddy. But she’s going to be just fine, and so is Mommy.”

A few minutes later, the hospital comes into view. Tony whips into the parking lot, barely managing to park the car before he’s jumping out, rushing around to help you. The nurses spot the three of you, and within moments, you’re whisked into the maternity ward with Tony by your side, Edward clinging tightly to his other hand.

After a moment of hesitation, Tony looks at Edward, his expression softening. “Okay, Eddie, I think it’s time for you to hang out with the nurses while we bring Mia into the world, alright?”

Edward’s eyes are filled with worry as he looks up at you, his little brow furrowed. “Are you sure, Daddy? Maybe I should help.”

You reach out and give his hand a gentle squeeze, smiling through the pain. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll see you soon.”

Reluctantly, he nods and lets go, and a nurse leads him to the waiting room, promising him hot chocolate. Once he’s settled, you let yourself focus fully on the task at hand, breathing deeply as another wave of contractions hits.

Hours later, as dawn breaks over the mountains, you’re finally holding a tiny, pink-cheeked bundle in your arms. Mia is here, and she’s perfect, with soft wisps of dark hair and the tiniest little nose. Tony looks at her with an expression you haven’t seen before, a mixture of awe, wonder, and pure love.

“She’s… wow,” he murmurs, his voice choked. He reaches out, his finger stroking her soft cheek. “She’s here. She’s finally here.”

You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks as you watch him. “She is. And she’s beautiful.”

Just then, there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse steps in with Edward, who’s clutching a small, stuffed bear that he insists is for Mia. He’s a little hesitant, staring at the tiny bundle in your arms with wide, curious eyes.

“Eddie, come meet your sister,” Tony says, beckoning him over with a soft smile.

Edward steps forward slowly, his eyes fixed on Mia with fascination. He gently sets the bear down beside her and looks up at you, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is that really her?”

“Yes, sweetie,” you murmur, shifting Mia just enough so Edward can see her more clearly. “This is Mia. Your baby sister.”

Edward’s face lights up as he takes it in. He reaches out tentatively, gently touching her tiny hand. “Hi, Mia. I’m your big brother,” he whispers, looking awed. Then he glances up at you and Tony, his voice growing more confident. “I’ll take care of you, Mia. Just like I promised.”

Tony chuckles, ruffling Edward’s hair. “That’s right, bud. You’re the best big brother she could ask for.”

Once you’re back at the chalet, it’s as if the whole place is holding its breath for Mia. Even the snowfall outside seems to have softened, the sky a soft pink and blue haze as the sun rises over the Alps. Tony helps you get settled on the couch, Mia tucked warmly in your arms. Edward is right beside you, eyes wide and sparkling as he stares at his sister, still in awe of the tiny new family member.

“Mommy, can I…?” He trails off, looking up at you with hopeful eyes.

Tony clears his throat, immediately stepping in. “Can you what, buddy?”

Edward meets Tony’s gaze with a bold determination. “Can I hold her?”

Tony opens his mouth, looking unsure. It’s clear he’s struggling, torn between letting Edward’s eager big-brother heart grow and the sheer terror of seeing his three-year-old son anywhere near such a delicate little bundle. You give Tony’s hand a reassuring squeeze, then smile softly at Edward.

“Of course you can, sweetheart. We’ll help you,” you say, and Tony shoots you a look that is part admiration and part mild panic.

With care and precision that would make any parent proud, you and Tony arrange Edward on the large bed, surrounding him with a fortress of pillows. He sits cross-legged, his little hands clasped in his lap, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him.

“Alright, Edward, remember—very, very gentle,” Tony instructs, his voice a little shaky as he settles Mia in Edward’s lap. The look on his face says he’s ready to leap in at any second.

Edward nods with the utmost sincerity, keeping his hands steady as he holds Mia, his tiny fingers brushing over her soft blanket. He gazes down at her with awe, and Mia, as if she already knows her brother, blinks up at him, her eyes round and calm.

“Hi, Mia,” he whispers, his voice almost reverent. “It’s me, Edward. I’m your big brother.”

Tony, standing a mere inch away, watches like a hawk, his eyes locked on Edward’s every move. If there were any way for him to be closer without actually holding Mia himself, he’d probably do it. You catch him clenching and unclenching his fists, clearly debating if he should interfere, even though Edward is doing perfectly well.

You chuckle softly, nudging Tony’s shoulder. “Breathe. He’s got this.”

“Breathe?” Tony whispers back, glancing at you like you’ve suggested he let Edward juggle china plates. “Babe, our son is three. Mia’s barely a week old. This is like… a recipe for chaos.”

“But look,” you murmur, smiling as you take in the sight before you.

Edward leans down slightly, his face inches from Mia’s, his little voice filled with wonder. “You’re so small, Mia. But I’ll help you get big. Just like me.”

You feel your heart melt, watching your son speak to Mia with the wisdom and warmth of someone far beyond his years. Mia, sensing something special, gives a little yawn, her face scrunching up before she settles comfortably in Edward’s lap.

Tony’s shoulders ease just a fraction, and he shakes his head with a small smile. “Alright, you’re right. He’s got this.”

After a few moments, Edward looks up at Tony with a mix of pride and excitement. “Daddy, she’s not crying!”

Tony laughs, reaching out to ruffle Edward’s hair. “She’s not crying because she likes you, buddy. You’re already doing an amazing job.”

Edward beams, sitting up a little taller. “Yeah, I think she does like me. I’ve been practicing, Daddy. With my teddy bear, remember?”

Tony chuckles, nodding. “All that practice paid off, didn’t it?”

Satisfied that Edward has everything under control, you settle back, letting yourself enjoy this peaceful moment. It’s incredible to see Tony’s eyes soften with such pride as he watches Edward. When Mia stretches a tiny hand and accidentally grabs one of Edward’s fingers, Edward lets out a little squeak of excitement.

“She’s so strong!” he says, looking up at Tony. “Look, Daddy! She’s already holding my finger!”

Tony’s grin widens, and he’s now fully invested, crouching beside the bed to get a better look. “She’s a Stark, all right. Strong from day one.”

You share a knowing smile with Tony. Somehow, it feels like the chalet, with its vintage wood and cozy, fire-lit rooms, has truly become your family’s haven. This yearly trip has become more than just a tradition—it’s a ritual of love and connection, a reminder of the life you and Tony have built together.

When Edward finally looks up, he gives Mia one last gentle hug before releasing her back into your arms. “Mommy, can I hold her again tomorrow?”

You smile, nodding. “Of course, Eddie. She’ll need all the big-brother cuddles she can get.”

“Deal,” he says with a grin, hugging his knees to his chest, his excitement making his little feet wiggle.

Later, when Edward’s sound asleep and Mia is curled up beside you, Tony wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The fire crackles softly, casting a warm glow around the room, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“So, another perfect day?�� he murmurs.

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. “Perfect in every way.”

I love family man Tony so much you guys can't even understand

67 notes · View notes