#how to explain to my parents hey don’t do that!

[crowsofdarkness]

Arranged-Chapter Four

*gif not mine. credit to owner*

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, 18+ smut(ch 12 & ch 17), angst, fluff, mentions of death and violence. I will update the warnings with each chapter.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: This was a story of mine on an old blog and I wanted to publish it on here. Since it's quite a long fic, I've decided to slowly updated it chapter by chapter. If anyone who is interested wants to be tagged, let me know!

My head rested against the headrest while my knee bounced with uncertainty of where we were going; all I knew was that we were headed to some lab but didn’t know what for. Steve was to my left and gave me a small smile to calm my nerves. 

It didn’t.

Bucky was on my right, eyes glued to his phone while typed furiously. I didn’t dare to look to see who or what he was texting. It wasn’t any of my business and to be honest, I was slightly afraid to find out what it would be. 

With the two large men on either side of me, I felt cramped and did my best to maneuver my small body hoping it would calm me. 

Again, it didn’t. 

I began chewing on my nails, something else I did when I was filled with nerves, and it was then that Bucky looked away from his phone and saw my worried state. 

“Are you alright?” 

I nodded. “Yep.” 

“You’re shaking the whole car,” he sighed while placing his metal hand on my knee. 

It calmed me for a moment. 

“Nervous habit, I guess.” 

Bucky hummed. “And the nail biting?” 

I placed my hands in my lap and let out a low breath. 

“Y/N, there’s nothing to be nervous about. I just have to meet with one of my workers then we can head back to the house,” Bucky explained. 

With a small nod, I felt the car come to a stop in front of a large building with a sign in front of it. 

Barnes Laboratory. 

“You own a lab?” I questioned looking at Bucky. 

He nodded. “Maybe one day I can give you a tour. But right now, I need you to stay in the car.” 

I didn't bother to argue, something about this whole meeting still was not sitting well with me because of the way Bucky’s demeanor changed this afternoon and last night.  

“Steve, stay with her,” Bucky demanded. 

We were left in the now quiet car and my eyes watched with slight worry as Bucky, along with two of his other guards, disappeared into the building. My mind raced with a million thoughts, wondering what he was doing there and who he was meeting with. 

“He’s alright,” Steve’s soft voice filled the car. 

“I’m assuming that you’re not going to tell me what’s going on in there,” I sighed while looking at him. 

Steve shook his head. “You know I can't do that.” 

“This marriage isn’t going to work if he keeps things from me.” 

“It’s better if you don’t know some things, trust me,” Steve insisted. 

Before I could retort back, Steve pulled out his phone and with a long sigh, he gave me a stern look. 

“I’m needed inside. Can I trust that you’ll stay in the car?” He wondered. 

Now my mind really began to wonder what the hell was going on inside because Bucky was adamant that Steve stay with me but now, he needed him inside?

“Yeah,” I nodded. 

“Good.” 

I kept a hard glance on Steve’s back until he disappeared through the same door Bucky had gone into a while ago. 

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered while crossing my arms over my chest. 

I couldn’t dwell on the sudden loud silence because my phone rang, my moms picture appeared on the screen. It had been a few days since I last spoke with either of my parents and I knew they were wondering how things were going between Bucky and I. 

“Hi mom,” I signed into the phone. 

“Hey sweetheart, we’re……things……Buck….treating..right?” 

Her voice was coming in broken and when I pulled my phone away, I realized that inside of Bucky’s car, I had absolutely no service. 

“Hang on. I can’t hear you.” 

I shuffled from seat to seat, hoping to get better service, but it only made it worse. My gaze fell to the outside and I began gnawing on my lip, Bucky’s words replaying in my mind. 

Stay in the car. 

“Honey….there?....Can’t hear..”

It’ll be a two minute conversation. I’ll be back in the car before Bucky even knew I didn’t listen. 

“Hey mom, can you hear me better?” I asked, the wind blowing the hair from my face once I stepped on the gravel ground. 

I made sure to stay close to the car, just in case. 

“Oh that's better! So, how are things?” 

I nodded even though she couldn’t see. “They’re good, I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

“It’s only been a day and a half, mom. I need more time to actually get to know someone,” I defended. 

My mother sighed. “You don’t have more time, Y/N. The wedding is in three days. Not to mention, you haven’t sent over any details!” 

My pulse began to quicken as I thought of the best way to break the news to my mom. 

“Bucky and I decided to do a courthouse wedding; sign the papers, have a nice dinner to celebrate. You know, simple.” 

“What?!” 

I grimaced while pulling the phone away, my mother shrill ringing in my ear. 

���I can’t believe you would do this to us, Y/N! After everything we did to set this up for you!” 

“Are you fucking-,” I began. 

“Watch your mouth!” 

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek and composed myself. “I didn’t get a say in who I’m marrying. The least you and dad can do is allow me to decide if I even want a wedding or not.” 

My mother kept rambling on about wedding nonsense but my attention had fallen elsewhere, lips parted in confusion. Bucky was now outside of the building, Steve close behind him, but what they were currently doing was what held my attention. 

Bucky had his vibranium fingers gripped tight on someone's shirt collar and pinned up against the brick of the building. There was a slight look of fear on this man's face as he nodded profusely to Bucky’s demands; ones that I heard each and every word of. 

“You’ve got one week, Banner. I need those vials in my possession by next Saturday at 10 a.m. If I catch wind of another test experiment, they won’t just be finding your experiment's body in the water. Understood?” 

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?”

My mothers voice brought me back slightly. “Uh, I have to go. I’ll call you later.” 

I pocketted my phone, not even giving her the chance to yell at me more. 

Steve did a quick once over of their surroundings and when it fell onto me, his face hardened and placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 

Not only did I feel a wave of disappointment wash over me when Bucky’s eyes locked with mine, the look of anger that he held filled me with fear. I had yet again disobeyed an order from him, the first two times he was understanding. Who’s to say this time he will be? 

“Deal with him.” 

Bucky roughly handed off the worker to Steve, who disappeared back into the building. 

“I told you to stay in the car,” Bucky spat while closing the distance between us in just a couple strides. 

“Did you just threaten that guy?” I ignored his previous statement. 

Bucky’s eyes hardened, a deep scowl pulling at his lips. “Get in the car.”

His flesh fingers gripped my arm and began dragging me into the car. 

“Get your hands off of me,” I snapped. 

I did my best to break free from his grasp but Bucky was stronger than me and not the typical stronger a man his size would be. His strength almost felt double than normal as he lifted me into the car with ease

The door slammed behind him and I was suddenly pressed up against the other door, Bucky leaning over me slightly. His broad chest rose and fell with every deep breath and I could feel the warmth of it painting my lips. The fear that I felt dissipated, a new feeling crashing over me. 

Lust. 

The heat of his intense gaze, blue eyes boring into me, brought chills all over my skin. 

“Did you threaten that guy?” I repeated my question. 

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “That’s none of your business.” 

I raised a brow. “Isn’t it? You brought me here.” 

“I didn’t have a choice.” 

“I know the feeling,” I grumbled. 

Bucky shook his head with a scoff. “How many times are you going to bring up that you’re not happy with the situation?” 

I didn’t like the hint of annoyance in his voice so I sat up straighter, a little tough in the cramped back seat; Bucky’s size was taking up the majority of it. 

“Until I finally have a say in this relationship.” 

“You do. You’re the one that decided on not having a wedding,” Bucky retorted. 

I snickered. “Who would have thought that big old mob boss Bucky Barnes would want a big wedding?” 

Something flashed over his eyes and his breathing echoed throughout the small space of the car. 

“You’re such a smartass, you know that?” He sneered. 

I lifted my chin towards him, our lips meters apart now. “Get used to it, Barnes. Cause you have to deal with it for the rest of your life.” 

As hard as my heart was pounding from not only the slight fear of what I witnessed and heard prior but to how Bucky would react. 

His tongue rolled over his bottom lip, so slow, and his eyes danced all over my face. My hands lay on my stomach, itching to trace over his soft features, but I clasped them together hoping it would subside. 

There was this tension between us, something unknown, that began pulling us towards each other. I marveled at the way his bottom lip was so pink and plump, almost begging me to kiss them, taste them, devour them. 

Bucky, almost as if he could read my mind, lowered my body deeper into the seat and I felt his lips ghost over the crook of my beck, warm breath heating my core. 

“Boss, we need to go. Now.” 

Bucky didn’t bother to move, merely looked over his shoulder. Steve was peeking his head in the open door, a look of urgency in his eyes. 

“What’s going on,” Bucky asked while adjusting himself by fixing his suit jacket and sitting in his previous spot. 

“Stark. He’s at the house demanding to see you.” 

I noticed the way Bucky’s face fell for a moment before his strong demeanor returned. 

“Everything okay?” 

He ignored me, only keeping his attention towards Steve. “Tell the men to load up.”

Everything happened in a quick haze, Steve and the other two men jumped in the car and peeled out of the parking lot, my hand grasping for the headrest in front of me to steady myself. I didn’t know who this Stark guy was but I could tell by the way that Bucky’s breath was erratic and his hands shook with anger that this was going to be a closed door meeting. 

[birdy-bird27]

Not me catching my parents trying out ai images 😭😭 I had to step away for a moment without blowing up and going on a long winded passionate rant

[ontologicalmoki]

unsolicited parenting advice of the day tell your kids what to expect! If your two year old is anxious about when dad is going to get home from work, teach him to recognize what patterns indicate that dad is coming home soon! After lunch we will do an activity and then clean and THEN dad will get home. Listen when the calendar day starts with an S dad does not have to go to work!!

and if something goes wrong and today does NOT go according to the plan your little guy expects, tell him!! Hey, dad has to go to work after all today, but he will be home after lunch! Today dad has to get groceries after work, so he’ll be home later than normal. But he will return with more bananas! Focus on the positives too, give them things they can understand. Don’t just say “not today,” they understand the concept of grocery stores and unexpected trips. Just tell them the problem. You’d hate being in the dark about everything that happens to you also. Let them control their situation, even if it’s just their own emotions and expectations.

or even! Teach them to read an analogue clock! Let me tell you, church nursery in the 1.5-3.5 age group got so much less stressful and anxious for EVERYONE when I taught my kids how to read the clock. They don’t have to ask me anymore how much time is left and fish for answers I can’t give them. They know that their guardians will come for them when the long stripe on the clock touches the 2, and that if they aren’t there then then they’re LATE and they get to hold this over their parents head. Because they know their parents can be late. And they LOVE knowing when this has occurred. There is so much less anxiety.

anyway explain stuff to your kids, they want to know. This has been an unsolicited parenting advice PSA

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[noisilyscreechingsong]

“The what?”

Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.

So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.

Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.

“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.

“Same,” Danny agrees.

“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.

The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.

“Bet.”

They look at Duke.

Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.

Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.

“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.

“What’d you see?”

Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.

“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.

“Need a hand?”

Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.

“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.

Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”

“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.

Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.

“Whoa-“

Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.

The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.

“Holy crap! Danny!”

“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”

“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.

“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.

The three brothers all pause and look at him.

“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.

“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.

Danny pulls it back out of reach.

“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.

“What do you-“

But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.

The batboys glance at each other.

“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”

“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”

“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.

“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”

“Cool. That’s fine.”

**

After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.

[genderfreakxx]

Ah yes, the “parents misgendering you in the past tense because it makes sense to them and you get that but also it sucks and is painful” problem.

I know it well.

[itsmarsss]

cool. [Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

(from the vault)

You start working as a babysitter for the Heffleys, but a certain someone seems to be bugging his parents to go out more often. Why?

Words: 6,164

Warnings: like one slight sexual/porn innuendo

[. . .]

"What do you mean someone to watch me?” Greg yelled, exhasperated.

Rodrick laughed out loud at the whole situation. “Wait is little Greg here getting a babysitter?”

“Yes, and she starts tomorrow night," their mom replied, matter-of-factly.

“Mom, I’m in seventh grade! I don’t need a babysitter!”

“We’d believe it if the last time we left the two of you alone you hadn’t directly disobeyed the only thing we told you not to do and thrown a party while we were gone," their dad explained.

“Wait. Mom. So I don’t have to watch him? Like ever again?”

“No but you should be ashamed of the reason why-”

“Hell yeah!”

“Rodrick-” He was already up the stairs on the way to his room. She sighed. 

“Mom you can’t do this to me. Do you know how bad it'll be if the guys in my grade find out you got me a babysitter?”

“They’re not gonna find out, sweetie.” She patted his head.

“And it’s not negotiable.”

“What your dad said.”

"Dad!”

“I’m sorry, kid! But if it makes you feel better, since Rodrick will be here and we’re getting a babysitter because we can’t leave the two of you alone, she’s teeechnically his babysitter too, right?”

“It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I tried," he shrugged.

“Where are you two even going tomorrow?”

“We’re having dinner! " Susan exclaimed, excited to talk about it. "Alone, finally, because-”

“Wait couldn't she technically be Manny’s babysitter then?”

“Thank you for caring so much about what I had to say, son.” She sighed once again. “She’s not Manny’s babysitter because Manny’s gonna stay with your grandma.”

Greg huffed and made a point to be extremely loud when stumping upstairs to his room, immediately getting cornered by Rodrick. 

“So… a babysitter, huh? And I thought your seventh grade couldn’t get any worse.”

“D´you think it’ll be that bad?”

“Dude they probably got you an old lady who smells like a museum whos gonna make you eat soup at like five PM and sleep at seven.”

Greg widened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, worried at the thought of what his brother was making him imagine. “You think?”

“Yup. And I’m not even talking about the total humiliation it's gonna be if someone your age finds out.”

“Crap.”

“Good luck with that.” Rodrick was obviously enjoying the mere thought of the torture that was going to follow.

. . .

“A babysitter?” Rowley asked, rather loudly. Greg quickly put his hand over his best friend's mouth. 

“Dude! Can you be quiet?”

“Hmmph!” Rowley tried to protest.

Greg released his hand from over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Why do I need to be quiet?”

“Because I don’t want anybody to know!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Rowley!”

Rowley just shrugged. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. A babysitter sounds fun! Maybe she’ll read you bedtime stories! And play board games with you!”

Greg just looked at him incredulously. “Just don’t say anything about this to anyone., okay?"

Rowley suddenly started to look really nervous. “You know I can’t lie…”

“It’s not lying! It’s just not mentioning it! No one’s gonna ask about it.”

“Okay. Fine.” He didn't seem that sure about it, but Greg knew he'd try his best.

. . .

You took in a sharp breath before knocking on the front door. It took no time for it to be sprung open, and you were greeted by a smiling Mrs. Heffley. You retributed the smile. 

“Hi Mrs. Heffley!”

“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” She asked as she ushered you into the house, startling you when she closed the door behind you as you walked in. 

“I’m alright! How about you guys? Your dress looks so pretty!”

“Oh my God, thank you! You know it’s been ages since I’ve worn a pretty dress to go out, you can’t trust three kids with a pretty dress, they're always gonna ruin it.”

“Oh God that must be hell,” you laughed along with her. “Where are you guys headed tonight?”

“Looking forward to having dinner in peace,” she laughed again. “Manny!” she yelled suddenly, startling you yet again.

A little boy walked in in his diapers, holding his pants up with both hands. 

“Manny can you just please put on your pants?” Mr. Heffley followed the kid around, frustratedly asking him for what you assumed must have been at leat a fourth time to put his pants on, judging by the tone in his voice and the sigh that accompanied it.

“No!”

“Manny!” Ms. Heffley yelled yet again. The kid did what he was supposed to.

“Um I didn’t- is Manny gonna be staying with me tonight?”

“No! No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re taking him to my mother’s house.”

“Oh, right. Okay.” You tried to let out how relieved you were. Little kids were a whole other level of difficult, specially at Manny's age.

“Darling are you ready?” Susan asked her husband.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Greg!” she yelled again.

“What?” The boy yelled back from his room upstairs. 

“Y/n’s here! Come say hi!”

“Who’s y/n?”

“Your babysitter!”

He came downstairs. Very slowly. “Mom I already-” He stopped.  “You’re not an old lady!"

“Gregory! We don't say that to people! What is that about?"

“I’m sorry! I meant- Rodrick told me my babysitter was gonna be an old lady who smelled like a museum."

"Of course he did," Mr. Heffley said, under his breath.

You pretended to smell yourself. “I think I might smell more like an art gallery maybe,” you joked.

“I’m so sorry about this."

“It’s fine, Mrs. Heffley! Don’t worry about it. Now you two go have some fun, alright? Come on."

“Yeah! Okay. Right. There’s money on the table, you can order whatever you want for dinner the kids will eat whatever. Just grab the money before Rodrick comes downstairs or he's gonna pocket it. If you need anything you can call, okay? Really, anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! I promise I’ll call if anything happens! But I think we’re just gonna stay and eat some food and watch some movies, right Greg?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“Please be nice, Greg. Oh and if Rodrick bothers you tell him I said he’ll be grounded if I hear he's not letting you work alright?"

“Sure thing! Thank you. Now go!” You joked, pretending to send them off.

. . .

You and Greg had both sat down on the couch in the living room.

“So. You’re not an old lady.”

“Nope.”

“Are you in high school?”

“Yes I am.”

“What grade are you in?"

“I’m a senior!”

“Oh. Rodrick’s a senior too.”

“Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen him around though.”

“Lucky.”

“Why’s that?”

“He makes my life hell!”

“Well don’t you make his life hell at least a tiny little bit?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“That’s just your job.”

“Trust me no girls like him.”

“Whatever, Heffley. So what do you wanna do?”

“Can we play video games?”

“Depends on what you have.”

“Apocalypse of The Damned?”

“I have never heard of that in my entire life.”

“You’re gonna like it I swear!”

“Alright. But you have to bring me the money your mom left on the table, I’m gonna order us some pizza.”

“Deal!” He ran out to the kitchen, getting back with the money in no time.

. . .

“Hey I was thinking. Can my friend sleep over?” Greg asked, obviously having been preparing himself to do so for the past few minutes, while furiously hitting buttons on his controller as you scrolled through your phone, having gotten tired of playing at that point. 

“Um. Is your friend gonna give me any trouble?”

“No! You can- you can trust us.”

“Is he annoying?”

He seemed to take his time to think of an answer. “A little. But he’s pretty cool.”

“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.”

You clicked on Mrs. Heffley’s contact name. 

hi mrs heffley

how's the date going? im sorry to interrupt

You didn't even have the time to finish writing the next text before she was calling you. You picked it up.

“Is everything okay?” Susan asked, clearly worried.

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, you don't have to worry! I’m so sorry to interrupt your date, Greg wanted a friend to stay over and I just wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”

“Is it Rowley?”

“Sorry?”

“The friend, is it Rowley?”

“Is it Rowley?” You asked Greg, leaning away from the phone, to which he just nodded his head yes. “Yeah, Rowley.”

“Okay, of course he can! And don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it.”

“Oh, that’s really nice, thank you. Now you should go back to your date, I'm so sorry to bother.”

“No worries! Are you sure everything’s fine?”

“Yes! We ordered pizza and we’re playing video games right now. Everything under control.”

“And Rodrick?”

“Uh, I haven’t really seen him honestly. He definitely hasn’t left his room though.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Bye!” You hung up.

“So?”

“Yeah, call your friend. Ask him if he has any board games we can play!”

Greg did as you said, and, in about half an hour, a little boy with a yellow shirt with a dog on it stood at the door.

“Are you Greg’s babysitter?’

“Uh yeah, I am.”

“Cool!" He looked at Greg behind you. "You told me she was old!”

“Rowley!”

“What? You did!”

You laughed at the interaction and let them do their thing, only asking them to stay by the living room so you could keep an eye on them. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone again as you knew the pizza should be about to get there.

The doorbell rang in no time. You stood up to pay for it, grabbing the large-size pizza and tipping the delivery guy, who didn’t look very friendly at all. You brought it in. “Hey Greg can you go call your brother?”

“Yeah!”

He ran up the stairs, and you set the box down on the dining table, Rowley sitting down. Greg came back.

“He told me to bring it to him.”

“Why?"

"He just doesn't wanna come downstairs."

"You don't have to do it.”

“What? He’s gonna beat me up for it!”

“Not with me here. I got you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Chill out.”

. . .

“Hey you little asshole? I told you to bring my pizza!” A voice exclaimed from the second floor, and Greg muffled a quiet ‘shit’.

“Hey don’t say that!” You scolded Greg for swearing as a reflex.

“Hey? Are you not listening?” Rodrick was clearly close to the kitchen now. He walked through the door. “I said get me so-” he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you.

“Who’s this?” He asked the boys.

“That’s Y/N,” Rowley said, through gulps.

"And I'm right here you know? You could just ask me who I am."

“Well who are you? And what are you doing… here?” He leaned over the wall, in a poor attempt to look cool. You had to fight yourself tas not to laugh uncontrollably at the sight.

“Well I seem to be your babysitter for the night.”

“What?”

“Did you also expect an old lady? You know, that's a really common and really hurtful babysitter stereotype, you really should think about the things you say now.”

“Wha- huh- yeah- I’ll just-” He let out a weird laugh, and walked up to the table, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth, seemingly to shut himself up.

“Well we’re gonna watch a movie after we’re done eating. You wanna join?”

“Oh he’s not gonna-” Greg started talking, but Rodrick quickly interrupted him, almost choking on his food as he did so.

“Yeah! Yeah! What are we uh- what are we watching?”

“Zathura.”

“What the fuck is Zathura?”

“Don’t swear in front of them!”

“Sorry.”

Greg looked at Rowley like Rodrick had just gone insane. Did he just apologize?

You laughed. “I’m kidding. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

They both slowly nodded their head no. 

“Cool. As long as you don’t repeat it in front of your parents, alright? Don’t wanna get me in trouble.”

“We’re not five!"

“Well you do look like it,” Rodrick commented, and Greg stuck his tongue out at him.

. . .

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Rodrick commented, pointing at the screen.

“It’s not supposed to! It’s a kids movie about a magical board game,” you pointed out.

“Let me guess, did Rowley pick this one?”

“For your information, I did. You got a problem?”

“No.”

Rowley had, in fact, picked this one.

Greg and Rowley shared a look again. This was getting bizzarre.

The movie was over in about half an hour, and it was time for you to put Greg to sleep.

“But it’s so early!” The boy complained, and you laughed.

“I know, but you don’t have to sleep now, you just gotta go to bed! I can’t, like, force you to sleep.”

He let out an annoyed groan before agreeing and pulling Rowley with him by the wrist. “Fine.”

“I’ll be upstairs in a few!” You yelled out, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. It wasn’t really something Mrs. Heffley had explicitly asked you to do, but you had those extra minutes and wanted to get on her good side. 

What you didn’t expect was to come in to find Rodrick still standing there, startling himself when you walked in.

“Uh hey!” His voice was high-pitched, clearly not expecting to see you there so soon.

“Hey.” You wordlessly walked to the sink, starting with the dishes. And then he offered to help you, which didn’t fit the image you had of him at all.

“What?”

“I said do you want some help? I can dry them.”

“Uh sure. Thanks.”

He just nodded, grabbing a cloth. “So did you put them to sleep yet?”

“Yeah they’re supposed to call me when they’re ready. Then I’m pretty much done.”

“Are you leaving like right after?” Was he… disappointed?

“Well not right after, your mom still has to pay me.”

“Right. She paying you extra for the dishes?”

“No,” you laughed, “just wanna score some points. This job’s good money, you know? But don’t tell her I said that.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You nodded, a little awkwardly. “So what’s the deal with the van?”

“What?”

“The huge white van parked right outside? I assume it’s not your mom’s.”

“Yeah.”

“Couldn’t you have picked a better color?”

“What?”

“You know something other than the classic creepy white van?”

He actually laughed. “I don’t think a creep would have ‘löded diper’ written on the door.”

“Maybe you’re just trying not to look too suspicious.”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Was he… flirting? Well, that was… an attempt.

“What, are you inviting me? You know, I was taught not to get into creepy white vans with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers!” He held his hand up for you to shake, which you did. “I’m Rodrick.”

“Y/N.”

“So. Ho'wd you end up babysitting Greg out of all people?”

“I mean, your dad posted something about it in the newspaper and my mom told me about it. Some extra money, you know?”

“And you’re sure it’s worth it? I mean he’s a big pain in the ass.”

“Aren’t all brothers?”

“I’m not.”

“Right. You’re like a dictator to him!”

“No I’m not!”

“He was scared you were gonna beat him up if he didn’t bring you pizza.”

“He’s dumb. I wasn’t gonna beat him up that badly.”

You laughed. “Well, we’re done. Thank you for the help. You can go now if you wanna.”

“You sound like a mom.”

“Oh my god! Stop trying to make me sound old! I'm some granny cinderella who turns into an old lady who smells like a museum when midnight strikes," you teased him, and he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.

"Right. He told you about that.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. To be fair, I never had a babysitter, you know? I just thought they were all old and boring.”

“Do you think I’m old and boring?” You joked.

He snorted. “No, you’re pretty.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. Way to go. “Not in that- well not that you’re not pretty, you are, but you know what I mean. You’re uh- you’re pretty compared to what I- expected?"

It was stupid, but you could feel yourself blush a little. Why was it that you always fell for the most absolute idiots? “So I’m pretty… compared to an old woman.”

“I think you should let me start over.”

“But-”

“Y/N!” You heard Greg yell from upstairs, and you left the kitchen to go see him, going up the stairs and entering his room.

“Okay, we ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes!”

“Both of you?”

“Yup.”

“Okay I’ll believe you. But your mom told me you’re on thin ice.”

Greg rolled his eyes and both boys got on the bed. 

“Okay, goodnight. If you don’t sleep right away don’t make too much noise.”

“Are you coming over tomorrow?”

“Why, did you actually like me?”

“Just a little.”

You smiled. “Well no. But I think I might next week.”

“Cool! ‘Night, Y/N!” 

“‘Night!”. You closed the door behind you, and walked downstairs to wait for Mrs. and Mr. Heffley to return so you could go home. 

You stopped on the hallway to send your mom a quick text saying you were fine and should be leaving in a few before making your way to the living room.

To your surprise, Rodrick hadn’t gotten back to his room. Instead, he was laying on the couch, his entire body draped over it as he scrolled through his phone. He sat right up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey. You not have anything to do?”

“I’m offended. But no I don’t.”

You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Okay. Well your parents must be on their way, so. Don’t have much to do either.”

“You wanna watch something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well a real movie.”

“Zathura’s a real movie! I like it!”

“You actually do?”

“Yes!”

“Whatever. Well an adult movie I mean.”

“Uh, an adult movie?”

“No! Not that kind!” He was blushing furiously and you found it hilarious. 

“Yeah whatever. What do you have?”

You ended up settling on a Marvel movie, but you barely had the time to start it before the doorbell rang, and you had to go get the door.

“Hey Y/N! I’m sorry we took so long, we had to go get Manny.”

“That’s fine! Rodrick and I were just about to watch a movie!”

“Rodrick came downstairs?” Mr. Heffley sounded genuinely surprised.

“Well you can finish it if you want!”

“Oh, no, I really should get going. We can finish it another time.”

“Oh well. Okay.” She put Manny down and grabbed her wallet, handing you your money. “Here, with the extra from Rowley. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Oh they were so cool! I was surprised.”

“Oh that’s great to hear! If they haven’t traumatized you too much we’d love to have you sit them again.”

“Oh definitely! Just give me a call.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Are you driving home?”

“Oh, no, I’m actually walking. I thought we’d be done a little earlier.”

“Oh that’s not good, we can take you-”

“I can take her!” Rodrick yelled, almost falling off of the couch in his eagerness. He stood up, walking toward you. His dad looked like he was short-circuiting.

“Are you sure?” His mom asked.

“Yeah! Come on, let’s go.” He walked quickly past the front door and into the white van.

“Sure. Bye Mrs. Heffley!”

“Bye sweetie! Tell me if he bothers you too much!”

You walked towards the van, getting in on the passenger’s seat. He turned the engine on in silence. There was an awkward atmosphere surrounding you, and you didn’t know why.

You cleared your throat. “So uh. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah it’s chill. Where do I turn?”

“Oh let me just- give me your phone.”

“What?”

“So I can put the address on the GPS?”

“Oh. Sure.” He handed it to you after unlocking it, and you did as you said. 

“Turn left in 200 feet,” the disembodied voice said, and he did.

“You don’t have to uh- do these things for me. You know, drive me home, help me with the dishes. It’s nice, but I’m not gonna tell on you if you don’t.”

“I know. I uh. I want to.”

“You wanna do the dishes?”

“I wanna help you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Fine.”

You got home pretty quickly, as you didn’t live a long way from the Heffley residence, and got out of the car. 

“Thank you for driving me! Goodnight.”

“Yeah!” Rodrick yelled back, and waited for you to get in to drive off. There was a smile on your lips you couldn’t shake off, and you felt stupid for it. Was the weird wannabe rock band kid really having an effect on you?

. . .

On wednesday, you got a call from Ms. Heffley again. And then on friday, and saturday, and sunday. This could not be normal, right? But it was money, so you obviously wouldn’t refuse it. So you pulled up to the Heffley residence for the fifth time on sunday, knocking on the door as usual.

Greg opened it this time, greeting you with a confused expression. “You’re here again?”

“Miss me, kid?”

“Are they going out again?”

“Apparently.”

“Mom, Y/N’s here!”

“Oh hey sweetie! Thank you for coming!”

“No problem! Where are you off to today?”

“Well we’re going bowling. Rodrick found us these pamphlets at the mall and wouldn’t stop bugging us about trying it out, so we decided to give it a go.”

“Oh he did?” That was strange.

“And you seem to have things so under control! I can’t believe we’ve been going out so much!”

“Well I’m happy to hear it. When will you be back?”

“I’d say eleven if that’s not too late for you?”

“Oh definitely not! As long as Rodrick can drive me.”

“Oh that won’t be a problem. You ready, darling?” She asked her husband, who walked by holding Manny in one arm and a huge bag in the other. 

“Yeah.”

"Everything there?” Susan asked him, referring to the bag. She turned back to you. “Manny’s staying over at my mom’s for the first time today. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah!" You exclaimed, not really getting all the excitement about it. You supposed you would if you were his mom. Right now you were just happy you didn’t have to watch over him too. Little kids were always more difficult. 

“Okay bye everyone!”

Greg and Rodrick were right behind you the moment you closed the door.

“Can we make pasta?’ Greg asked, and damn, the little dude must have had some sugar because he looked like he’d downed like three energy drinks at once.

“Well yeah. I make a killer pasta. Is Rowley coming today?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool.”

“Do you want help with the food?” Rodrick finally spoke up, and Greg looked at him like he was speaking Greek.

“Sure.”

“Are you okay?’ Greg couldn’t contain himself from asking him.

“What do you mean, assface?”

“Did you just offer to help with the food?”

“Yeah?”

“Who are you?”

“Oh shut it, dickhead.” You didn’t miss the nervous glance he gave you, clearly signaling something about you to Greg. And then Greg seemed to figure something out, his eyes going wide.

“Oh! Is that why you-” Rodrick looked alarmed, putting his hand against Greg’s mouth to keep him from talking, but he managed to get himself free. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get mom and dad to go out all week?”

“Hah. Don’t know what he’s talking about, pssht.” Rodrick laughed nervously.

“Uh sure. Well I’m already hungry so I’m thinking early dinner and then we can make dessert?”

“Yes!” Greg yelled.

“Okay but if we’re making the food you gotta set the table. Deal?” 

Greg groaned in annoyance, but agreed. “Fine.” He went on his way, and you and Rodrick made your own way to the kitchen.

“So,” you started, as you grabbed the pasta from the cabinet. “You’ve been trying to get your parents to go out all week.”

He looked everywhere but at you. “Uh, I don’t know what the kid’s on about.”

“Well, shame. Cause I was gonna thank you.”

“For what?”

“Well the more times a week I work the more money I get right?”

“Oh right. Right. So yeah you can thank me.”

“So you were setting them up to go out. Why?”

He shrugged, trying to seem cool. “Wanted to be alone.”

“You’re not alone now. You could be in your room. Or like out with your friends or whatever.”

“I didn’t anticipate that you’d actually be cool.”

“Oh you think I’m cool?”

“Yeah.” 

The water started to boil, and you threw the pasta in the pot, stirring it with a fork.

“Cool. You’re kinda cool too. You know when you’re not trying to be impressive.”

“I’m not trying to impress you!”

“I didn’t say you were trying to impress me .”

“Well I was.”

“You were.”

“Did it work?”

“Why’d you want to impress me?”

“Cause you’re cool. I wanted you to think I’m cool too.”

“Huh. Maybe I do.”

“Cool.”

“Y/N I’M DONE! I THINK ROWLEY’S HERE !” Greg’s voice came from the dining room.

“I didn’t hear the doorbell, are you sure?” You yelled back, walking past Rodrick to get the front door. Maybe you were too lost in the conversion to hear it, because the boy was standing right there when you opened it.

“Hey Y/N!” He said with a smile, greeting you with a hug, which was very on-brand for the kid. 

“Hey Rowley. You alright?”

“Yeah! I brought water balloons!”

“You did?”

“Well they’re not full of water yet so they’re just balloons but yeah.”

“Cool! You should tell Greg!”

“Will you play with us?”

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t have clothes I can get wet-”

“Well that’s not a problem!” Rodrick said, and you frowned in confusion. “You can borrow mine!”

“Oh I don-”

“C’mon, Y/N, you really gonna disappoint the boy?”

“Shut up. Fine, but you’re playing too.”

“Deal.”

“Yes!” Rowley exclaimed, before taking off, presumably to go find Greg.

“Well you wanna go up to my room?” Rodrick asked, apparently having otten some confidence from out of the blue, sporting a cocky smirk.

You laughed. “You wish. Just bring me a t-shirt.”

“Yeah. Someone’s gonna be looking like the number one Loded Diper fan out there.”

“If you bring me a white shirt I will beat you up!” You yelled, and he was already on his way upstairs. You took the past out of the pot, mixing it with the sauce you’d made, which was the easiest one you could find.

Rodrick was back as soon as you set the pot down on the table, handing you a gray shirt that , of course, had ‘loded diper’ written on it in terrible handwriting. 

“Thanks.” You draped the shirt over your shoulder and all of you ate in silence, apparently all stupidly hungry for some reason.

You were done pretty quickly, but made sure to get Greg and Rowley to promise to help with the dishes this time, since there were more.

“Okay! We’re gonna get changed!”

“Yeah me too!” You yelled back, making your way to the bathroom, changing into Rodrick’s gray shirt.

It didn’t hang as loose as you thought it would, and you laughed at the thought of Rodrick wearing a tight shirt for no reason. You supposed it was an old one he decided to turn into loded diper merch. Loded diper. What a stupid fucking name. You guessed it was fit. 

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Rodrick. “You done? These kids are little demons, they talk so much!”

You laughed, unlocking the door and grabbing your own shirt before opening it. 

“Hello?” He looked wide-eyed, like his brain was malfunctioning, staring profusely at his shirt. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Fine. The shirt alright?”

“Yeah. A lot smaller than I expected. Does Rodrick Heffley wear crop tops?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes. That bad?”

“No.”

“Chicks dig the crop tops, you know.”

“Oh do they?”

“Don’t you?”

“I guess I’d have to see you in one to give an opinion.”

“Yeah that’s not happening any soon."

“Shame.”

“What?”

“I said let’s go.”

You barely had the time to walk into the front yard before Rodrick was hit on the face by a huge water balloon. You turned to see a terrified-looking Rowley at the other side. Rodrick gained his bearings again. 

“Oh you’re in, you little shit!” He seemed way too determined on winning this, but who were you to judge?

Him and Rowley occupied themselves with each other pretty much the whole time, as you did with Greg, until you got hit rather strongly in the back. You stopped what you were doing, which was aiming your next balloon at Greg, who was right in front of you, and turned around to see Rodrick laughing at you.

“Motherfucker-” you cursed yourself mentally for swearing in front of the kids, hoping they wouldn ‘t tell on you, and launched the balloon at him at full speed, it landing on his chest. 

“Hey!”

You played for about half an hour more until the sun set, and you decided it was best to get back inside. All three complained, and you laughed at the situation, because you supposed you did sort of sound like a mom when trying to convince them to get in, but they ended up listening.

“Okay what are we watching tonight?” You asked as you closed the front door behind you and dried your feet on the mat by the entrance.

“Oh can we watch a horror movie?” Greg asked.

“Nope, we know how that ends.”

“But we’ve changed!”

“It’s been less than a week!”

“People change!” Greg tried to plead, but you knew Mrs. Heffley wouldn’t like it if you caved in.

“No can do, Gregory. We can watch that Adam Sandler movie you wanted though.”

“With the little kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

You were halfway through a second movie when the boys decided it was time for dessert, and you still had a little while before the Heffleys came back, so you decided you’d all bake cupcakes.

They didn’t turn out as great as you wished they would, but also weren’t half bad. They were a little flat and maybe a little toasted on the top, but were otherwise pretty edible. You covered them with some frosting and ate them as you finished the movie.

It turned out when you were done the Heffleys still hadn’t come back, so you decided to put the boys to sleep then. You came back to Ridrick looking at you at the other end of the hallway. 

“Hey,” you said, not expecting him to be there.

You stood there in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and started talking.

“Um do you wanna hang out? ‘Till they're back?” It was funny, with him. One moment he’d be full of confidence, flirting with you at the max, but, in a second, his entire demeanor would change and he’d look unsure, insecure to ask you anything.

You were starting to wonder if he wasn’t just being a stupid hormonal teenager and if he actually, maybe, had a little bit of a crush on you. But you wouldn’t entertain those thoughts, of course. First because you could be completely misinterpreting the situations, and second because you needed the job, and you hadn’t gotten enough of a read on his mom to know if she’d be cool with that.

Still, you did have nothing else to do but scroll through your phone as you waited. “Sure.”

“Oh! Cool. Uh, my room’s right there,” he pointed to a white door by his left, and you followed him in. It actually looked pretty cool. It was sort of exactly what you expected his room to look like, except maybe a little messier, if that was possible.

To each their own, I guess. It’s not like you were the cleanest person to ever walk the Earth. You sat down on his bed, and he opted to sit down on a beanbag just in front of you.

TIt's safe to say things were a little awkward. “Uh. So. Cool room.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You studied the multiple posters he had glued to his walls. “Oh, The Cure. Cool.”

“Yeah. They’re not like super my style or anything. But they’re cool.”

“What would be your style?”

“I don’t know. Hard rock.”

“Huh. I don’t know. You just look like one of those guys who like rock but secretly listen to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber or something when they’re alone.”

“What- what I would never- I don’t-” busted. 

You laughed at him as he tried to deny it. “I think it’s cool.”

He stopped. “You do?”

“Yeah. Taylor Swift’s cool.”

“Yeah uh. Girls dig that.”

“Do you really know what girls dig or do you just make random guesses?”

“I’m well-informed.”

“Oh are you? You have a girlfriend or something?” Subtle.

He scoffed. “Pfft. Yeah.”

“Uh- huh.”

He gave in. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay”

“You're a girl. What do you dig then?”

“What a romantic way to phrase that question. I guess I don’t know. Never stopped to think of it. What do you think we dig?”

“Uh. Bad boys?”

You let out a laugh. “Yeah I guess. But it depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether they’re nice to us.”

“So you want bad boys who are actually nice.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Uh. But I can be nice.”

“Who said you’re a bad boy to begin with?”

“Um rock band? Cool eyeliner?” He motioned to himself, mockingly.

“Well who do you wanna be nice for?”

“Uh. You? Obviously.”

Your smile faltered. There was the confidence making an appearance again.

“What?”

“Uh. You know. So I can uh- practice. For other... girls?”

“Right.”

“Or maybe not.”

“Okay I ‘m lost.”

“Do you wanna go out with me? ” He blurted out at rapid speed.

Okay, sudden much? “What?”

“Uh. We could… go to the movies or something? You seem to like movies.”

“Right. But as a… date?”

“Yeah.”

You thought about it. It was just a date, it’s not like his mom would get mad about a date, right?

“Sure.”

“What?”

“I said sure.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t seem to have been expecting a positive answer. “Oh! That’s cool! That's- cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

He began standing up. “Well, do you wanna-” In that very moment, before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and you made your way past him, running downstairs and getting the front door. 

“Y/N! How are we?”

You hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt as you talked to her. “We’re great! Greg and Rowley are already in bed, Rodrick and I have been uh. Hanging out.”

“Oh that’s nice of him!” She turned to face her husband, who, in turn, grabbed your wrist. 

“What have you done to him? Are you some sort of witch?” He asked you.

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh it’s all him! He was showing me the posters in his room, we like the same bands!”

“Oh do you uh. Like rock too?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well we’re taking too much of your time. Is Rodrick driving you home?”

Oh, right. Shit. He was.

“Yeah I uh, think so.”

With that, he walked into your view, holding up the van keys. He’d apparently put on shades, probably so his parents wouldn’t see he had eyeliner on.

“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Mr. Heffley asked him as he walked past them.

“It’s called fashion, dad!”

Mrs. Heffley handed you the money for the night, and you went on your way, getting into the van with Rodrick, who, by now, didn’t need the GPS to get to your place. Except he wasn’t driving to your place at all.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanted a slushie. That cool?”

“I guess.”

He stopped by a 7/11 and bought each of you a slushie and some chocolate bars, which you ate outside. The wind started to get harsher, and you crossed your arms around your chest for warmth. He caught on to that, taking his striped hoodie off and giving it to you. You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah but you’ll be cold.”

“Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“You’re not a rockstar.”

“Not yet."

You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.

"Just take it!” 

You did, and put it on. This one hung looser than the shirt you’d borrowed earlier. It did help. You tried your best to contain the smile that was insisting on forming on your lips. You knew it was dumb.

“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, and you could see him smirk, proud of himself. “You’re so cheesy. Wouldn’t take you for it.” 

“I’m not cheesy. I’m just not an asshole.”

“You kinda are.”

“Shut up!”

You ate in silence for a bit before you decided to say what was on your mind. “Hey about that date?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if we should do it.”

He tried to seem chill about it, but he looked a little hurt. “Why?”

“Well it’s not that I don’t want to! I do. For… some reason,” you added, trying to lighten up the mood. “But do you think your mom would be cool with it? I mean I don’t wanna lose this job and I don’t know if she’d really like us being alone if we’re dating.”

His face lit up. “So you’re thinking about dating me?”

Oh, you’d messed up big time now, he’d never let this go. “No! That’s not what I meant!”

“I think it is.”

“Fuck off!”

“Oh we’re using big boy words now?” He grinned.

“Shut up.”

“Well. Don’t think that should be a problem. They don’t have to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“What, do you tell your parents everything? They don’t have to know we’re dating.”

“Yeah but we’re not dating.”

“Not yet.”

“Shut up!”

“They don’t have to know we’re going on a date, then. Plus, the days you work can be like little dates.”

“Yeah except there will be two children up our asses.”

“You can manage.”

“Fine, Heffley. But if I lose my job you’ll be owing me. Like literal money.”

“Deal.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

[. . .]

A/N: sometimes ur 20 pages into a diary of a wimpy kid rodrick heffley oneshot and you ask urself wtf am i doing with my life. this is the product of that. i wrote this THREE YEARS AGO WOW so i edited some of it to post it here but nothing major cause i didn't want it to lose its energy lol. btw i was in fact like. actually in high school at the time lmao. luv yall!

[pucksandpower]

Like … for Uber?

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: maybe you should have been a bit more specific when you told your parents that your boyfriend drives for a living

The aroma of roast chicken and freshly baked rolls wafts through the air as you nervously adjust the centerpiece on the dining room table. Your parents and younger brother are due home any minute, and you’ve spent the afternoon preparing for this pivotal family dinner. Tonight, they’ll finally meet your boyfriend.

The doorbell chimes, sending a jolt through your body. You hurry to the entrance, smoothing down your dress before opening the door. Max stands there, a bouquet of flowers in hand and an easy smile on his face.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “These are for your mother.”

“Thanks, you didn’t have to do that,” you reply, taking the flowers. “Come on in. My family should be here soon.”

As you lead Max into the living room, you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. You haven’t exactly been forthcoming about Max’s career, telling your family only that he’s “a driver.” It wasn’t a lie, per se, but you knew they assumed he worked for a ride-sharing service or delivery company.

“Nice place,” Max comments, looking around. “Very ... homey.”

You laugh. “Is that a polite way of saying it’s nothing like your fancy Monaco apartment?”

“No, I mean it,” he insists, pulling you close. “It feels lived-in. Comfortable.”

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupts your moment. “That’ll be them,” you say, your stomach doing somersaults. “Ready?”

Max squeezes your hand. “Always.”

Your parents burst through the door, arms laden with grocery bags. Your mother’s face lights up when she spots Max.

“Oh, you must be the boyfriend!” She exclaims, setting down her bags to give him a hug. “You’re even more handsome than Y/N said.”

Your father steps forward, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, son. Heard a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Max replies with a chuckle.

As introductions are made, you can’t help but notice your parents exchanging curious glances. You know they’re dying to ask about Max’s job, but they’re too polite to broach the subject right away.

“Dinner smells amazing,” your father says, sniffing the air appreciatively. “Shall we sit down?”

Everyone gathers around the table, and you begin to serve the food. The conversation flows easily at first, with your parents asking Max about his family and where he grew up. But as the main course is cleared away, you can sense the questions they’re itching to ask.

Your mother finally breaks. “So, Max, how long have you been driving?”

Max looks momentarily confused. “Uh, professionally? Since I was 17, I guess.”

Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seventeen? Isn’t that a bit young to start with Uber?”

“Uber?” Max repeats, bewildered. “I don’t-”

You quickly interject, “Dad, Max doesn’t work for Uber.”

“Oh, my mistake,” your father says, looking embarrassed. “Lyft, then?”

Max turns to you, a mix of amusement and confusion on his face. “Schatje, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

Before you can explain, your mother chimes in. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, dear. Driving for those apps is honest work. We’re just curious about what it’s like.”

Max opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. “Mom, Dad, I think I need to clarify something. When I said Max was a driver, I didn’t mean-”

The sound of the front door slamming interrupts you. Your younger brother, Tommy, comes barreling into the dining room, out of breath and wide-eyed.

“Sorry I’m late, I was at practice and-” He stops short, his jaw dropping as he spots Max. “Holy shit! You’re Max Verstappen!”

The room falls silent. Your parents look from Tommy to Max, then back to Tommy, confusion etched on their faces.

“Language, Tommy,” your mother scolds automatically, before adding, “Wait, what did you say?”

Tommy is practically vibrating with excitement. “That’s Max Verstappen! He’s not just any driver, he’s a Formula 1 World Champion!”

Your father turns to Max, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “Is this true?”

Max nods, looking slightly sheepish. “Yes, sir. I’m a Formula 1 driver for Red Bull Racing.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Your mother is the first to recover, letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh my, and here we were asking you about Uber! We must look so foolish.”

“Not at all,” Max assures her, his smile warm and genuine. “It’s actually quite refreshing. Most people I meet already know everything about me.”

Your father leans forward, his interest piqued. “So, Formula 1 ... that’s the racing with the really fast cars, right?”

Max nods, launching into an explanation of the sport. As he talks, you can see your parents becoming more and more fascinated. Tommy, meanwhile, is peppering Max with questions about his latest races and rival drivers.

“I can’t believe my sister is dating Max Verstappen,” Tommy says for the third time, shaking his head in disbelief.

You feel a blush creeping up your neck. “Tommy, please ...”

Max reaches under the table to squeeze your hand. “It’s alright, liefje. I’m just glad they know now. No more secrets, yeah?”

Your mother stands up suddenly. “Oh, goodness! I completely forgot about dessert. I’ll just go fetch it.”

As she hurries to the kitchen, your father clears his throat. “So, Max, I have to ask ... is it dangerous? All that racing, I mean.”

Max considers the question carefully. “There are, of course, risks. But the cars are incredibly safe these days, and we take every precaution possible.”

Your mother returns with a homemade apple pie, setting it down in the center of the table. “I hope you like pie, Max. It’s an old family recipe.”

“It looks delicious,” Max says sincerely. “Thank you for going to all this trouble.”

As your mother serves the pie, the conversation shifts to more casual topics. You find yourself relaxing, relieved that the truth is finally out and that your family seems to be taking it well.

“So, how did you two meet?” Your father asks, between bites of pie.

You and Max exchange a glance, both smiling at the memory. “It was at a charity event in London,” you begin.

Max jumps in, “She spilled her drink all over my shoes.”

“Max!” You exclaim, swatting his arm playfully. “I did not spill it, you bumped into me!”

He laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Maybe we bumped into each other. Either way, I’m glad it happened.”

Your mother sighs contentedly. “That’s so romantic. And now look at you two, so happy together.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Gross, Mom. Can we talk about racing again?”

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of laughter and conversation. As the night winds down, you find yourself in the kitchen with your mother, washing dishes while Max chats with your father and Tommy in the living room.

“He’s a lovely boy,” your mother says softly, handing you a plate to dry. “I can see why you like him so much.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks, Mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about his job. I just ... I wanted you to get to know him as a person first, you know?”

Your mother nods understandingly. “I get it, sweetheart. It must be hard, dating someone so famous. But from what I’ve seen tonight, he seems very down-to-earth.”

“He is,” you agree, glancing towards the living room where you can hear Max’s laughter mingling with your father’s. “He’s just Max to me.”

As you finish up in the kitchen, Max appears in the doorway. “Need any help?”

Your mother shoos him away. “Absolutely not, you’re our guest. Go relax.”

Max insists on helping anyway, drying the last few dishes as you and your mother put them away. The domesticity of the moment strikes you, and you find yourself imagining a future where scenes like this are commonplace.

Later, as you walk Max to his car, the cool night air nips at your skin. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

“That went well, I think,” he says, a hint of relief in his voice.

You nod, leaning into him. “Better than I expected. Sorry about the Uber mix-up.”

Max laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Don’t be. It was kind of fun, actually. Your family is great, by the way.”

“They liked you too,” you assure him. “Even before they knew you were famous.”

He stops at his car, turning to face you. His eyes are soft in the moonlight as he cups your face in his hands. “That’s all that matters to me. That they like me for who I am, not what I do.”

You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. “I love you, Max Verstappen, Uber driver extraordinaire.”

He grins against your lips. “And I love you, Y/N Y/L/N, girl who definitely did not spill her drink on my shoes.”

[fastandcarlos]

The Littlest Surprise » Daniel Ricciardo

caption: hello im a new f1 content creator and would love some feedback if you enjoy my fics tysm 🩷

summary: you’ve not been seen at the paddock for a while and the fans are getting worried, little do they know the reason for your absence is about to make everyone’s dreams come true

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by schecoperez, georgerussell63 and 842,420 others

danielricciardo: always a pleasure to have the fam on my side, excited to show the little ones what uncle danny gets up to 🥺

49,302 comments

username1: is this yet another race y/n won’t be at this weekend??

username2: I cannot wait for the day that this man becomes a dad

username3: if y/n doesn’t hurry up and make him a dad…daniel i’m happy to offer my services 😊

maxverstappen1: how big is y/n/n now! she looks so grown up 🥺

danielricciardo: @/maxverstappen1 she’ll be 6 soon, where does the time go??

oscarpiastri: don’t forget your little adopted aussie nephew

landonorris: and your british nephew too!!

danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri @/landonorris hey! i might be a bit older but not old enough to be your uncle thank you

username4: anyone else think something might be going on, daniel posting about his family without y/n there is strange

username5: @/username4 let’s not overthink this too much, y/n might just be busy

username4: @/username5 it’s been ages since we last saw her, you gotta admit it’s a bit sus

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 629,301 others

danielricciardo: another great weekend of racing, nice feeling to be back on the podium…man how I missed hearing that champagne pop 🏎️

38,402 comments

charles_leclerc: congrats brother, nice to be up there with you once again

username6: y/n not distracting you anymore to stop you getting on the podium??

username7: @/username6 wtf? why would you suggest such a thing?

carlossainz55: always knew you’d be back up there one day, long may it continue!

yukitsunoda0511: you gotta give me some tips bro, those manoeuvres were lethal today 🔥

pierregasly: danny ric just doing danny ric things

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 922,547 others

danielricciardo: hey team! just wanted to clear up some things after miami this weekend…me and y/n are absolutely fine, had some things going on that I promise we’ll explain soon ❤️❤️ for now tho, here’s an update on life recently ☁️✨

92,174 comments

ynusername: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

username8: I knew you guys would be okay, take as long as you need my two favourites!!

username9: a big screw you to those who doubted you…real fans love you guys

landonorris: I love you guys, here if you need anything brother ❤️

username10: hope whatever is going on clears up soon, we’re missing you guys around here🩷

lilymhe: tell y/n to gimme a call! ily guys ✨

visacashapprb: can’t wait to welcome y/n back into the paddock soon - see you for race week!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, iamrebeccad and 310,409 others

ynusername: it’s been a long few months, but we finally feel ready to share with you our happy news. pregnancy has been tough, I’d love to say it has treated me well, but it hasn’t. I cannot thank daniel enough for being by my side and helping me out whenever I’ve needed him…baby spam incoming ⛅️🍼

ps. each of us chose a picture to share, guess who chose what 🙄

28,461 comments

danielricciardo: words cannot begin to describe how proud I am of how brave you’ve been, the worst of it is over now my love, the countdown to baby ricciardo starts now

danielricciardo: ps my photo is way cooler than yours is

landonorris: omg I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me, uncle Lando reporting for duty!

carlossainz55: the biggest congratulations you two, you’re going to be the best parents

carmenmmundt: so glad to hear y/n is doing better, may the rest of your pregnancy be a dream ✨

lilymhe: the strongest girl I know - so excited to see you become a mum 😍

username11: all my manifesting has paid off, baby ricciardo will be the luckiest

oscarpiastri: AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE!!

estebanocon: my spidey senses were spot on, I knew a baby was on the way!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, lance_stroll and 102,585 others

ynusername: life lately 💫 exhausted but loving all the little things (including daniel 😂)

17,492 comments

username12: y/n looks like she’s living the dream, mum life suits her well 🥺

danielricciardo: im definitely not a “little thing” how else did we end up like this?

landonorris: @/danielricciardo excuse me sir you are about to have a child, sort your humour out

maxverstappen1: glad to see you’re feeling more like yourself again y/n, brunch on me soon!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 yes - let’s not tell daniel #gatecrasher

danielricciardo: @/ynusername you know your comments are public…right?

username13: anyone else wishing they could brunch with y/n too??

lance_stroll: sending all the good book recs your way!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 738,603 others

danielricciardo: babymooning 🍼 the smile says it all, so happy to have my girl back on her feet and feeling like herself again…making the last few memories just the two of us 🥺

83,500 comments

ynusername: thank you for the best couple of days and being my personal taxi driver

username14: look at his face - you can tell daniel is buzzing to be a dad

pierregasly: where was my invite?? I thought we were friends

carlossainz55: and mine!

georgerussell63: me too!

landonorris: looks like we were all forgotten!

visacashapprb: enjoy the break daniel! you and y/n absolutely deserve it 🏁🩷

username15: i speak for all your fans when i say keep the holiday photos coming pls

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 920,355 others

danielricciardo: mum and dad 🔥🥺

tagged: ynusername

58,429 comments

landonorris: adopt me pls, im less problematic than a baby

danielricciardo: @/landonorris debatable

lewishamilton: so glad to see you both so happy, good luck with everything

charles_leclerc: wow!! y/n looks insane (suppose you look alright too daniel!)

ynusername: mum and dad?? i can definitely get used to hearing that 🤩

alex_albon: it’s not fair how adorable you two are, this kid is hella lucky!!

username16: pls keep the baby spam coming, you guys are the sweetest 🍼💫

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lilymhe, yukitsunoda0511 and 109,446 others

ynusername: the many faces of a man who has just remembered he’s just signed up for no sleep for the next 10 years 😂

tagged: danielricciardo

23,201 comments

danielricciardo: after all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? you just wait my love 🫢

ynusername: @/danielricciardo this was too good of an opportunity to miss

carlossainz55: make the most of that middle photo whilst you can danny

georgerussell63: you have NO idea how much I just laughed at this y/n 😂😂😂

schecoperez: speaking from experience, you could not be more correct y/n #dannynosleep

username17: embarrassing dad before even becoming a dad 😬

oscarpiastri: call me for anymore embarrassing daniel pics 😂

danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri no one asked for you to show up here

username18: I just want you to be my mum and dad instead 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmmundt and 113,999 others

ynusername: can you believe this man is really about to become a father?? 🤦🏻‍♀️

32,694 comments

charles_leclerc: sometimes i really do wonder what you see in him y/n

landonorris: the biggest clown known to man, still the world’s biggest kid 😂😂

danielricciardo: is that really how you want to talk about the father of your child? I thought you were supposed to love me

ynusername: @/danielricciardo i do, ily very much 🥰

username17: not y/n releasing all the humiliating photos of daniel now they’re about to be parents

username18: y/n’s clearing the phone album for baby spam and giving us daniel spam in return

logansargeant: more to the point, this is the guy you chose as the father of your child??

lilymhe: the two of you are perfect for each other y/n ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 1,403,407 others

danielricciardo: welcome to the world baby ricciardo 💕

after a lot of hardships and tricky times, y/n and i are beyond excited to share with you that our little one is here. everyone is safe, loved and doing well, my heart has never felt so full 🥺

tagged: ynusername

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[itsthecline]

smoke and smush

ex-pogue kook!reader x jj maybank

summary the day you and jj make it official , and the morning after when kie finds out.

warnings profanity , sexual innuendos , established secret relationship ( and getting caught ) , smoking marijuana , porn with plot ( grinding , praise , soft dom!jj , fingering , oral fem!receiving , unprotected pinv , kinda rough sex , hair pulling , creampie ) y’all this is filthy…

18+ minors dni

“kie , are you sure you have to go?” you asked , holding your hand to block the sun from your eyes as you watched your friend slip her shorts back on after her dip in the pool.

you invited all of your friends to come over for a pool day. pope declined , explaining he had to help his dad with stuff for work and that he was super , super sorry. you insisted it was not a big deal. john b was still hungover from the night before and whined through the phone that ‘i don’t wanna have to see jj trying to hide his boner from you all day’. you audibly and dramatically gagged into the speaker before hanging up on him , wondering if it was that obvious you and jj were a thing.

so , it was just you , jj , and kie.

and now that the sun was setting , so she was headed home. jj was already going to spend the night ; he didn’t exactly want to go home , and you were beyond okay with having his company after the morning you two had. kie , though , had parents that wanted her home at a decent hour , especially when they knew at least one pogue was hanging around too.

“yeah , the mother is still on my ass after the kegger last weekend,” kie groaned , yanking her t-shirt on as well , it clinging to her still wet skin, “but if you want to , i’m free in the morning! we can get breakfast?”

jj looked at you quickly , nodding for you to agree so he could come with you both. he always told you how much he liked eating with you two because you were able to find such cute spots. “we all get breakfast?” you smiled , tilting your head to jj for kie to get the hint.

“sure,” she laughed , grabbing her bag and slipping her sandals on, “see you bright and early!” and just like that she was heading through your back gate and going home , leaving you and jj swinging in your hamock.

you nudged jj with your foot , getting his attention. “hey , boyfriend?” you spoke flirtatiously , batting your eyelashes in a dramatized fashion.

“yes , girlfriend?” he replied , smiling ear to ear , pressing a kiss to your calf before starting to message your foot.

as of that morning , jj asked you to be ‘his girl’ officially. he had brought over a handful of your favorite flowers , hashbrowns from the wreck , and a cd burned with your favorite songs with ‘will you be my girl?’ scribbled across it in his messy handwriting and little doodles mixed in.

you couldn’t help but giggle out of pure joy. for the first time in a long time , things felt good around you. “you wanna get high and do dirty stuff? y’know my mom and dad aren’t back until monday.”

“you need to get high to wanna do dirty stuff with me? ouch!” his hand flew to his forehead he dramatically threw backward, “you wound me , baby!”

“shut up!” you kick at him, “the dirty stuff is because i want to ; the smoking was for you , shark boy.” you wobbled up , standing from the hammock and slipping your shoes on.

without a word , jj got up and followed you into the house , already knowing you were headed up to your room. one : it was where you kept all your paraphernalia your parents could never know about. two : your king size bed that was perfect for all of the things jj was already hard thinking about.

he reached forward , smacking your ass that was barely covered by your little , green swimsuit. “jj!” you laughed , swatting his hand away as you reached your room. you started digging through the shoe box you kept under your bed first , preparing the bong for the two of you.

“good thing that cd i gave you is the perfect smoke and smush playlist,” jj bragged , manspreading on the edge of your freshly made bed and watching you.

“stop saying smush,” you groaned , packing a bowl with a sour look on your face.

“you think it’s funny on jersey shore!” he argued back , throwing his hands up in shock.

you roll your eyes obnoxiously. “i do! i just don’t think it’s sexy , baby,” you explained softly , leaning over to press a kiss onto the inside of his thigh. he had to hold back a moan at the action , standing up quickly and going to the balcony so you could smoke a bowl or two.

you were on cloud nine. maybe three bowls ago you and jj repositioned to make-out while you straddled his lap grinding down into him. and after about three more you had moved back into your bedroom , settling into your silk sheets.

“you’re my dream girl,” jj muttered into your skin , pressing kisses and sucking deep bruises on your neck, “favorite thing ever. my perfect girl.” your neck craned further back , jaw dropping to let out a soft moan.

“will you show me?” your voice came out more whiney than expected , hips thrusting up to create more friction than jj was giving you. in the midst of moving to the bed , your bikini top came off , but between you and jj still rested your bottoms.

jj pulled back to look you in the eye , goofy smile on his face that was partially covered from his shaggy blonde hair you’d mussed up from combing your fingers through it all day. he leaned in , twisting your lips together deeply once more before planting shorter , softer ones down your body.

“mhm. i’ll show you just how perfect i think you are.” his words were split up by more kisses as he made his way between your legs. he adjusted , throwing your calves over his shoulders , biting at your thighs.

again , you lifted up , needing him. you felt his breath fan across your damp swimsuit as he chuckled. he moved one of his arms to rest his hand on your hip , effectively holding you down. with the other , he so graciously touched you through the fabric. it was soft , barely there , but it forced a whine out of your lips nonetheless.

his fingers expertly pulled your bikini to the side , exposing your slick pussy to the your cold , air conditioned room. you couldn’t help but shiver , goosebumps blossoming across every inch of your bare body. your own hands busied themselves with your tits , pulling and twisting at your nipples to help ground yourself just a little.

“oh , you poor thing,” jj cooed , looking up at you with the sweetest puppy dog eyes, “you been like this all day?”

you nodded frantically , another pathetic little cry slipping into the thick air. “i think i’ve waited long enough,” you defend yourself , raising up to your elbows to look down at your boyfriend who was still rubbing at your slit , playing with the slick that had started to pool. “don’t you think , baby?” you encouraged him , biting your lip to keep quiet.

he had the decency to meet your gaze back lovingly before twisting his hand and sliding two fingers into your waiting core. you elicited a louder moan this time , hands flying to grip your sheets. “yeah? you like that , baby?” jj borderline mocked you , moving his fingers in and out of you slowly just before leaning back in to add his tongue into the mix.

your thighs started closing in around jj’s head , and though he didn’t mind it in the slightest , he did mind how much you were squirming. he adjusted his arm to lay flat across your hips , holding you more firmly into the mattress while he continued working his fingers into you. he could hear you begging for him , but all he was focused on was devouring you.

it wasn’t long before your legs had clamped entirely around him , keeping him in place as you got higher and higher. closer and closer to your orgasm. “doing so good for me,” jj groaned , rutting his hips into the mattress. you could only muster a moan in response as your tightened your grip on his sweaty , blonde hair. “want you to come , baby,” he breathed out , pulling his mouth away from your weeping pussy but not stopping his now three fingers from fucking you.

he lifted himself up , hand keeping up with its ministrations but allowing him to hover over you and kiss you. your tongues fought for each other , and you sighed at the taste you on his lips. “so fucking close , j!” you couldn’t even hear the music from the cd playing anymore , but you could thank god your parents were gone for the weekend.

“fucking come for me ; right now.” it was a demand , but jj’s voice was so sweet and his fingers were hitting just the right spot. his head dipped lower , taking one of your nipples into his mouth , running his tongue around the stiff peak before grazing his teeth against it. “please , baby. wanna see you come all over my hand. you hear that? y’so fucking wet,” he was moaning himself , getting off on getting you off , listening to the way your moans were changing as you got closer.

and then it snapped. the long day’s pressure that had built up finally released in the form of you leaking around jj’s fingers , your arousal spraying onto your bed and moans that filled your bedroom and floated out the balcony door. “fuck , fuck , fuck!” you whimpered , grinding into his hand now that your hips were free to move.

jj’s eyes shot down to his hand as soon as he felt your release forcing his fingers out of you , wanting to watch how much of a mess you were making on your now soaked sheets. he slid his fingers out of you , rubbing up and down your folds for a moment before pulling away and letting you catch your breath for a moment. “fucking beautiful,” he chuckled , kissing into your neck as his hand moved up to your mouth.

you breathing was shallow as you let his fingers into your mouth , cleaning your juices off of him. “want you to fuck me,” you admitted , nibbling at jj’s ear with a giggle. god , you were so happy.

“it’s like you’re right out of one of my dreams,” jj groaned , sitting back on his heels and flipping you over with ease. you let out a yelp , shocked by how fast he maneuvered you around. it was his turn to laugh , just as giddy as you were. what a beautiful thing he had here with you.

his hands reached forward , gripping your hips and hoisting you up long enough for you to arch your back for him. one hand went to yank his swimming trunks down and tug at his throbbing cock. his other hand stayed on you , rubbing your ass , moving you back and forth for his viewing.

“you know i love you , right?” he wondered aloud , hand running up your spine slowly.

you turn your head over your shoulder , arms still stretched out in front of you , ass still in the air. “i love you more , jj,” you beamed back to him , reaching between your legs to grab him, “i’ve always wanted this.” your almost cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the confession as you situate the tip of him at your entrance.

it takes a minute for you to fully sink down on him , ass meeting his hips. when you do , jj lets out a matching curse to your whine. and it takes you another moment before you can start swirling your hips , bouncing yourself on him , letting him take a moment and relax.

your head falls forward , and you take a bite of your sheets to muffle the moans escaping you as you fuck yourself harder against jj. “fuck , baby! feel so good,” jj grunted to you , hands finding their place on your hips and taking over in administering your movements. he pulled you back and met you with his own powerful thrusts before adjusting to shove you flat onto the bed and just fucking into you.

“harder , baby. fuck your pussy harder!” you cried out , desperately trying to reach another climax by moving yourself on his cock the best you could.

“yeah? this my pussy?” he echoed after you , yanking your hair up to expose your face more which only opened your mouth wider for more cries to fall out. he pounded into you harder at your request , feeling his own release inch closer. you nod the best you can. “that right? this is your cock,” he added , accentuating his words with deeper thrusts, “only yours , baby. only you.” his words got weaker as his hips moved sloppier.

you knew he was getting close , and you were almost there. “cum in me!” you shouted, “cum in me , please. please , baby!” that was all it took for jj to double over , covering your body with his as his hips stuttered in and out of you. he kept going , overstimulating himself in efforts to get you off one last time and fucking his cum into you.

the sound of his fucked out whimpers sent you over the edge. “yes , yes , yes! fuckkk!” you cried , body heaving at the exertion. you two slowed down ; your breathing was loud in your ears , slowly faded out as you came back to your senses.

jj was still glued on top of you , littering kisses all over your shoulder. “i love you , y/n,” he whispered sweetly , nudging his nose into your cheek.

“i love you,” you smiled , finally able to hear the song that was playing now.

it was nearing ten o’clock in the morning. the sunshine was starting to creep into your room , past the sheer , lacey curtain you had hung up with jj earlier in the week.

jj was sleeping on his stomach , arm thrown tightly over your waist , holding you close to him. his head was resting on your chest , and light snores were coming from his mouth. your hand was still in his hair from the night before. and your covers were hardly doing their job of hiding your bodies at that point.

“hey , i checked the guest room , and jj wasn’t in there!” kie’s voice practically shook the walls of your house just before she opened your door , barging into your room.

you jolted awake at the intrusion , causing jj to stir as well. “kiara!” you yelled , not having ever used that tone of voice before.

your friend — upon seeing that jj hadn’t left , screamed and covered her eyes before slamming your door closed behind her. jj yanked the covers up to hide your bodies , reacting far too late for the situation.

“what the fuck!” he questioned , still half asleep and beyond confused.

“oh , my fucking god! kie’s here,” you curse , rushing out of bed and clothing yourself in the first options you see. jj’s left behind as you run after kiara , who hid in the living room to wait for you. “kie!” you shouted , looking for her as you came downstairs.

there she was , pacing back and forth while chewing on her thumb’s nail. you stopped and stared at her , and she looked up when she noticed you. “found jj,” she shrugged , flicking her hand up to the stairs where a half dressed jj stood , still wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“it’s not what it looks like,” you lied , saying the first thing that came to mind despite it being exactly what it looked like.

jj’s quick footsteps rolled down the stairs. “how’d you get in here?” he asked , as if all of your friends didn’t have the alarm code to your house. as if you didn’t have breakfast planned for the morning.

“i was here to wake you harlots up so we could go eat!” she shouted , starting to pace again, “but i found my best friends naked in bed together!”

you wince at her volume. “kiki , let me just explain everything real quick,” you requested , taking a step toward her. you knew she wasn’t mad that you were hooking up with jj ; she knew how much you liked him. she was mad that you didn’t tell her. you were supposed to be best friends.

“explain that you’re a liar?” she scoffed , crossing her arms as she glared at you.

“hey!” jj was quick to step forward , point at your friend in warning not to talk to you that harshly, “love you , kie , but take a breath , dude.”

you silently thank jj , knowing you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to kie that way. you didn’t like having to raise your voice. “we didn’t tell anyone , okay?” you started, “it all just snowballed , and we just couldn’t find a good time to tell you guys. i think i kinda wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little bit anyway. keep it just for us?”

kiara had softened slightly , trying to hear you out. “why? i’m your best friend. we tell each other everything , y/n. this is , like , sort of a big thing to hide from me.”

“i know , and i’m sorry , boo,” you sighed , not wanting this to be a fight, “our friends , we all share everything. all the time. beds , food , drinks , weed , clothes , everything. this is the one thing that i’ve— we’ve had to ourselves. we got to enjoy it for it exactly as it is.”

“plus , i was also scared you’d beat me up,” jj added , trying to lighten to mood as he rubbed a hand up and down your back.

kie failed to stifle her laugh , hand covering her mouth. “okay , okay. i get it. you’re in your little honeymoon phase. whatever. just no more secrets , ‘kay?” she surrendered , grabbing your hands and swinging them with a smile.

you looked at jj , grimace rising on your face. “actually , we were planning on telling you guys on our , like , maybe three month anniversary…” you announced.

“oh , my god! i’m gonna have to keep this a secret for three months?”

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4663

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: I was reading a book series and got this idea. Enjoy!

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say, poking at the sad bowl of cereal before you.

“Why not?” Your wife frowns at you from across the kitchen.

“Because we’re doing fine! We don’t need any extra help,” you emphasize.

“You’re not the one stuck at home all day cleaning the house and cooking all the meals,” she snaps. Your eyes shift to the bowl of cereal you’d had to make yourself because she was too busy at her pilates class to cook you anything more substantial. 

“This house is huge compared to our old one,” your wife continues. “And if you’re not going to help me around here, I’m going to hire someone who will.” Annoyance burns in your chest because you run your own company full-time, and your wife inherited all her wealth from her parents and hadn’t worked a real job in her entire life. “Besides, Steve’s the one who recommended her and he said she’s been really helpful to his family.”

“You seem to spend a lot of time talking to Steve,” you note, although you feel guilty for calling out your neighbor across the street. You’d spoken to him a few times and he seemed like a decent guy, but you weren’t stupid enough to not notice how often your wife would find her way over to his lawn multiple times a week.

“You’re at work all day and don’t answer your phone half the time,” she says. “You don’t expect me to stay in this gigantic house all by myself doing chores, do you? I’m not a house servant, Y/N.”

“No, of course you’re not,” you apologize. You glance at the Omega watch that had been an engagement gift from your wife. “Hey, I have to get going to work now.” Dutifully, you bring your bowl over to the sink and stop to kiss your wife on the way there. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

“Remember, the pool guy is coming at noon so you need to be back before then,” she says. “I don’t want to be left by myself with him.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” You’re not sure why she’s so nervous around the pool technician; he was about 30 years older than the both of you and had been very sweet and professional when he came to give you a quote for the maintenance.  

“No, don’t try. Do it,” she insists.

You try to hold in your sigh. “Yes, dear.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha curses to herself as she drags her vacuum cleaner and basket of cleaning supplies up the sidewalk to your home. Your wife–Mrs. L/N, as she had asked Natasha to call her, while you had no problem being on a first name basis with her–had told Natasha she didn’t want her parking in front of your house, requiring her to park around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been a significant issue except it meant Natasha had to lug everything to your house every time she stopped by.

“Do you need any help, Nat?” Steve Rogers, the friendly neighbor whom she also worked for, waved at her from across the street.

“No, no, I’m fine!” she squeaks, not wanting to bother him. But Steve, ever the gentleman, runs over anyway and she has no choice but to turn over her supplies to him. 

“You know, you can always just park in front of my house,” he offers, bundling the items in his muscular arms.

“That’s okay,” Natasha says. “Mrs. L/N made it very clear that as much as she needs my help, she doesn’t want people to know I’m here.”

Steve doesn’t argue with her and walks her to your front door. “Well, if you ever need anything–”

“Natasha! You’re late!” The front door swings open and Natasha finds herself face-to-face with your wife. “Oh, hello, Steven.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyelashes at him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I was just helping Natasha with her things,” Steve explains.

“Oh, don’t worry about her. She can handle herself. Right, Natasha?” She turns a judgmental eye on Natasha.

“I appreciate the help, Steve,” is all Natasha says.

“You’re welcome. See you both later!” He quickly jogs back to his home. 

Mrs. L/N ushers Natasha into the house. “I left a grocery list on the kitchen counter for you. If you can’t find something, please call me before you pick any substitutions,” she instructs briskly. “I have to go out to the HOA meeting, but Y/N should be home by noon before the pool man comes. Do not let him into the yard if Y/N or me are not home yet, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Natasha nods her head, fighting the urge not to roll her eyes at this lady.

“Good.” She leaves towards the garage and Natasha can hear the purr of her Mercedes starting up.

It was Natasha’s second week working for your family, and she hated nearly every second of it–mostly because of your spoiled, bratty wife. But the few times Natasha had met you, she thought you were as kind and charming as could be (and very nice to look at). She wondered how the two of you had gotten together in the first place and what you saw in your wife. She was one of the bossiest clients Natasha had ever had, and Natasha had seen her be not much nicer to you. Plus, she was definitely hitting on Steve, but Natasha knows he wouldn’t cheat on his wife with yours.

She dumps her supplies in the foyer, then goes into the kitchen to find the grocery list. It only takes a single glance to know that your wife is totally fucking with her–what the hell is a rambutan? Natasha sighs loudly, wishing there were someone around to hear her distress. As much as she wants to quit working for your family, she needs the money. And she was still so new to the business, she couldn’t afford to make any bad impressions. 

With another sigh, she balls the grocery list into her fist and heads back out.

***********************************************************************

Natasha returns from her grocery trip just in time to see you pull into the garage in your bright green luxury sports car she doesn’t even recognize the manufacturer’s logo of. You get out and wave to her and she smiles back, almost forgetting the awful phone call she had to make to your wife when she searched the entire store and still couldn’t locate the rambutans (she ended up having to make a separate trip to Whole Foods for them). 

“Hi, Natasha!” you say, running down the driveway to help her with the grocery bags.

“Oh, don’t worry about these,” Natasha says, trying to swat your hands away. “It’s my job to take them into the house–”

“No, let me help,” you insist, scooping up four bags in one hand in one go. “Oh! Rambutans. These are my favorite. Thank you for finding them.” 

Instantly, Natasha wants to take back all the curses she had put on the spiky red fruit. “It was nothing,” she lies, making a mental note to buy out the store’s entire stock for you the next time she goes.

With your help, it takes half the amount of time to get all the groceries in the house. You also insist on helping her put everything away, showing her the proper drawers in the fridge for the fruit and vegetables versus the meat, and where the cereals went in the pantry. Natasha is beyond grateful for you; she knows your wife would have happily stood there and watched her struggle, then loudly criticized her for not knowing better.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her hand inadvertently brushing yours when you pass her the last bag of apples. She withdraws from you almost too quickly, her skin hot where you touched her, but you don’t seem to notice, distracted by the ringing of the doorbell. 

“That must be Stan.” You dash off to meet the pool man. 

Natasha fills the dishwasher as much as she can and starts in, then goes to finish washing the oddly-shaped pots and pans that didn’t fit in the sink. The kitchen window looks out to your yard that is probably bigger than the footprint of her entire apartment complex. The pool has two different levels, but both are filled with a suspicious green water. You’re standing poolside talking to Stan, an older gentleman whom Natasha personally knew to be very kind from her few interactions with him when he conducted work on the neighborhood pool’s. 

She’s so busy looking at you, fantasizing about a life where this big house could be hers, with a doting partner who would take care of her and raise a family with her, she doesn’t hear the front door opening until she hears the unholy screech from your wife.

“Natasha, what are you doing?” she yells, hurrying over and snatching the soapy sponge right out of Natasha’s gloved hand.

“Um–the dishes? They didn’t all fit in the dishwasher–”

“You turned on the dishwasher?” Her eyes grow wide and her mouth drops like Natasha’s just confessed to a murder. “Didn’t I tell you we don’t run the dishwasher before seven p.m.?” Natasha is certain she’s never heard this instruction before in her life and watches as she rushes over to turn off the dishwasher mid-cycle and throw it open. “Also, you didn’t pack this correctly, you definitely could’ve fit those pots in here.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll rearrange it now,” Natasha says, trying not to get flustered. Surely your wife wouldn’t fire her over such a minor transgression, would she?

“Is Stan here yet?” she asks, but before Natasha can answer, she is interrupted by a shout and a splash. Both of them crane their necks to look out the window, where they can see Stan floating facedown in the pool. You’re kicking your shoes off and throwing your phone onto the lawn before you run up to the pool’s edge and dive in with a form that would rival an Olympic swimmer’s. Your wife screams and darts towards the back door, Natasha following right behind her.

“Y/N! What are you doing?”

“He fell in!” you answer, coughing out water as you loop your arms under the elderly man and kick back towards the stairs. “He just zoned out when he was talking to me and suddenly tipped over into the pool. I think he’s having a seizure.”

“I’ll call 911!” Natasha offers, not wanting to be as useless as your wife. She struggles to get her phone out of her pocket and punches in the number with shaky fingers.

Your wife hovers by the pool stairs, making no move to assist you as you struggle to drag the old man out, clearly weighed down by the water drenching both of your clothes. Stan is holding himself in a position so stiff it reminds Natasha of a mannequin. 

“Ugh, don’t get me wet, Y/N!” your wife complains as the brackish water sprays everywhere.

“I’m trying not to!” you snap, gently laying Stan on the grass.  

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a dispatcher picks up.

“Hello? Yes, I’m at 2800 Sherwood Drive. There’s a man here who fell into the pool and we just got him out, but he’s having some kind of medical episode,” Natasha says, putting her phone on speaker. The dispatcher asks if he’s breathing and you confirm. 

“Can roll him to his side and stabilize his head?”

Without hesitation, you peel off your shirt and roll it into a soggy ball, gently tucking it under the man’s head like a makeshift pillow. Natasha tries not to stare at your nicely sculpted torso, highlighted further by the water droplets on your skin, but her face burns in shame when she sees your wife glaring at her ogling.

“Okay, his head is stabilized!” you call out.

“Perfect, emergency services are two minutes away.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a big scene at the house by the time the ambulance pulls up. Your wife eventually covers you up with a towel, but you’re insistent on waiting outside for Stan to be carefully loaded into the ambulance before you finally allow your wife to usher you back into the house, still dripping water everywhere.

“Thank you for the help today, Natasha,” you say, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle pat as you walk by her towards the house. Natasha doesn’t even know how to respond but nods furiously and mumbles that “she didn’t help much.”

“You can go now, Natasha,” your wife says curtly, and Natasha doesn’t question her and practically flees the premise.

***********************************************************************

It’s been a few weeks since the pool incident and Natasha is barely able to hold onto her sanity with the never-ending list of ridiculous tasks from your wife. When she holds a fundraiser meeting for a charity Natasha is sure she made up on her own, she calls on Natasha as her personal servant, forcing her to serve a collection of the snobbiest women in the neighborhood. Maybe I should take up meditation, Natasha thinks to herself as she prepares a third pitcher of iced tea because the first two “did not have the right balance of sugar to tea,” according to your wife, despite that Natasha had put in exactly one-third cup of sugar as requested.

Natasha doesn’t see you much around the house anymore, and she wonders if your wife purposely scheduled her around your work hours, or told you to stay away from her. She wants to ask you if there were any updates about Stan’s condition (there was no way she was going to get that information from your wife). She missed hearing your voice and seeing your smile…wait.

She shakes her head–she shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. You’re her employer and you’re married (to a bitch). It would be entirely inappropriate and dangerous to pursue you, so she would just have to make do with ogling you from afar. Besides, a lot of her clients did not show her respect, likely due to the nature of her job, so just because you were courteous and respectful towards her, didn’t mean you felt a specific way about her.

“You know, Y/N used to be fat.” Natasha startles when your wife walks up behind her. She almost drops the picture frame she’d been dusting of the two of you on a beach, holding hands as you walked towards the sunset in the background.

“Excuse me?” Natasha asks. 

“Fat and poor,” Mrs. L/N adds, much to Natasha’s horror. 

“That’s an awful thing to say about your partner,” Natasha says.

She shrugs. “I don’t want anything to be sugarcoated for you. All of this–” She gestures around to the grandiose-ness of the house, and points to a more recent photo of you, where you’re carrying your wife in your arms, the bulge of your biceps and wideness of your shoulders stretching out your shirt. “–was not a thing when we first started dating. I was there when Y/N had nothing and was no one.”

“Okay.” Natasha wonders why she’s acting like she did you a favor, when you are clearly the catch in the relationship. But then it suddenly dawns on her the reason she’s saying this is because she knows Natasha might have a small crush on you.

“Y/N would never leave me, because I was there from the beginning,” Mrs. L/N says loftily.

“Of course,” Natasha says, fearing she has made a terrible mistake. “Y/N must be very lucky to have you.”

“You have no idea,” your wife smirks. “So let me be a reminder to keep things professional in my house. I’d hate for you to lose your job here. As far as I know, this is the only neighborhood that employs you, and your reputation is everything, isn’t it? One bad review could spoil the whole bunch, and you’d be off having to peddle your services elsewhere.” Icy fear pits at the bottom of Natasha’s stomach. “That is, if the police don’t pick you up first.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha whispers, even though she knows exactly what Mrs. L/N is talking about. She had been foolish to assume her past would never follow her, but how could your wife have found out? Clint had assured her that with a new name and a new location, she’d be untraceable. 

“Because they’d have to arrest you from stealing Y/N away from me,” Mrs. L/N laughs shrilly. Natasha chuckles nervously, although she was certain adultery was not a punishable offense in the state. “But I’m just joking. That would never happen, right?”

“Never,” Natasha promises, hoping her cover will stay hidden for now. 

“Good.”

***********************************************************************

“How was your day at work, honey?”

“Busy,” you grunt, moodily poking at the chicken pot pie Natasha had made before she went home. The food tastes good–it’s better than anything your wife has ever cooked, you think privately, but you don’t have much of an appetite. The end of the financial quarter was rapidly approaching and it had become extremely apparent to you that the profits of your company were not outweighing the expenses for the third quarter in a row. You were digging yourself a bigger and bigger grave, dipping into your personal investments to pay your way out of debt. It was the most stressful period of your life, with no relief in sight, and your wife wouldn’t understand the pressure.

“Sorry to hear that,” she says, although her words don���t come across as very genuine. “My day wasn’t so great either. I got into an argument earlier with Mrs. Harkness at the HOA meeting.” Your wife clicks her tongue. “Some of these women will go to war over their lawn decorations, I swear.”

A jab bubbles on the tip of your tongue; was she really trying to compare an HOA meeting to your very real, very stressful job running a business? But you stay quiet, shoveling another spoonful of pot pie into your mouth.

“Where’s Natasha?” you ask. Usually she stayed around for dinner (not that your wife would let her sit at the same table as you), but you hadn’t seen her in the house for a while.

“I ran out of time today, so I sent her out to grab some things for tomorrow,” she answers. When Natasha had first been hired, you had been under the impression that she was exclusively a housekeeper, helping with all the household chores your wife couldn’t complete. But you had heard about her running grocery trips and waiting on your wife and her friends during meetings, turning Natasha into more of a personal assistant than anything. You hoped she was okay with that; you knew how demanding your wife could be sometimes.

“Oh, okay.” You finish your helping of pot pie in silence, then go to place your plate in the dishwasher, before going into the bedroom to retire for the night. As you’re washing your face in the sink, you hear your wife pad up behind her.

“Sorry you’ve been really stressed lately,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. 

“It’s not your fault,” you respond, drying your face on a towel, going back into the bedroom to find your pajamas so you can take a shower.

“Y/N.” Your wife stops you as you’re searching through the dresser for your pajamas. When you look at her, she’s eyeing you with her bottom lip between her teeth. She struts towards you, slowly sinking to her knees and looking up at you. “Maybe I can do something to make you feel better?” 

With you being so busy with work and her busy with the new move, the two of you hardly had time for each other. Plus, your wife tended to be on the particular side and never seemed to be in the mood if you initiated. It was a little frustrating sometimes, but you found ways to cope and besides, it did make the times she was ready for you all the more enjoyable.

She pulls down your pants, palming at your boxers and causing you to groan. You unbutton your shirt as you feel your body start to heat up and let it slide off your shoulders. 

“Fuck, don’t tease me,” you grunt when she leans forward and nibbles on the exposed flesh of your thigh. 

“You need to savor the moment,” she says, although you can tell she’s just as impatient when she hooks her fingers into the waistband of your boxers and draws them down to the floor. Your heavy cock bobs out, slapping against your abs before your wife grabs onto it and brings it to her mouth. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, tipping your head back when you feel her lips wrap around your cock. You wrap your hand in her hair, pumping your hips forward to sink your length into the heat of her throat. She grips onto your thighs to steady herself, the faintest of choking noise escaping her. You grunt in satisfaction, thrusting a little harder until the tip of your cock bumps the back of her throat. She whines louder, but doesn’t pull away, and your knees are practically shaking at the sight of her deepthroating all of you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you praise and her cheeks flush red. “Are you gonna let me finish in your mouth?” you ask, and she nods in response, the movement causing a burst of pre-cum to leak out of your cock. You stroke a stray hair out of her face so you can look into her eyes when you finish. “That’s my good girl.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha lets herself into your home, juggling three heavy bags that she’s pretty sure are cutting off the circulation to her fingers. She passes by the kitchen, confused to see it empty; when she had left the two of you were just settling down to eat. She puts the bags by the foot of the table, recalling the time Mrs. L/N had screamed at her for putting “dirty outside bags” on the place where you ate. She wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

Checking her phone, Natasha sees that your wife had sent her a text less than five minutes ago.

Natasha sighs. It had already been a long day, but she wasn’t given an ounce of leeway. She knows better than to walk away from an unfinished task (especially around your wife), so she trudges up the stairs and turns into the guest room. Hopefully her presence can go unnoticed, and your wife will magically find the folded clothes long after Natasha is gone. 

There are a total of three shirts and a pair of jeans left to fold. Natasha knows it would be too much to ask your wife to do on her own. She grits her teeth and folds the clothes, taking the better part of a minute, then looks around and realizes she doesn’t remember where she put the laundry basket. 

Maybe she had already brought it to the master bedroom, but she knew she couldn’t just leave it on the guest bed, or your wife would probably fire her. Natasha gathers up the clothes and walks down the hall to the master bedroom, but freezes in her tracks when she hears noises coming out of the bedroom.

Moaning noises, specifically.

Natasha can’t stop herself as she moves closer to the door, positioning herself to peer through the crack in between the door and the wall. She sees your wife on her knees, her head bobbing against your waist as you stand there, half-naked, moaning and thrusting your hips forward.

Natasha feels like she can’t breathe, totally shocked and embarrassed to have caught the two of you in a moment. She has a strange sense that your wife had set her up like this on purpose, but the thought quickly dissipates as she finds herself moving closer to the door.

“That’s my good girl.”

Natasha’s stomach flips when she hears you say this, even though it isn’t directed to her. But maybe one day it could be. 

She’s practically pressed up against the door, the fear of being caught burning away in her eagerness to keep watching you. The way the muscles in your stomach and thighs flex as your hips roll in a sinful rhythm. Natasha is almost ashamed at how fast she feels the arousal building in her own stomach.

You grunt louder and slow down as you seem to near release. Natasha can’t help but wonder what you must taste like and if she could even fit you down her throat. Your wife seems to be struggling with your size, but Natasha would do everything in her power to make you happy and not let any drop go to waste.

Without warning, your wife removes you from her mouth. Both you and Natasha gasp–you probably in frustration, and Natasha because she’s shocked at how big you are. Your cock is shiny with saliva and pre-cum and is so hard it looks like it’s about to burst.

“I didn’t finish,” you whine as your wife stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She puts her hand on your chest and pushes you back until you stumble onto the bed.

“I know. But I don’t want you to finish in my mouth, I want you to finish inside me.”

“Oh.” Your wife takes off her pants and climbs onto you.

Natasha knows how wrong it is for her to stand there and continue watching. She should’ve left a long time ago. But somehow, she knows your wife set her up to see this, and instead of running away in shame, Natasha is totally absorbed and her obsession with you only skyrockets. 

The headboard creaks against the wall as your wife rides you, both of you moaning in unison. Natasha’s eyes are stuck on you, trying to memorize your body’s reactions and wondering if she’d ever be the cause of them one day. You tilt your head back into the pillows, your back arching off the mattress, your hands wrapped around your wife’s waist as you thrust up into her. 

“I’m ready. I’m gonna cum,” you announce breathlessly.

Natasha hopes you’ll say those words to her one day. But she turns away as you finish, scolding herself for her unprofessional and frankly creepy behavior. She drops the folded clothes to the floor, knowing your wife will eventually find them and know of their origin. Maybe she’ll get fired for this; if anything, it’d be for the better. She doesn’t trust herself to be around you anymore–not that she’d ever be so bold as to make a move and disrespect your marriage, but she’d never be able to look at you the same way again.

She quickly pads down the stairs and leaves the house, the emptiness in her heart and core almost reaching a painful point.

***********************************************************************

You jerk your hips up a final time as you cum, dropping back onto the bed exhausted and spent. 

“Hmm, that was fun,” your wife pants against your neck, and you wrap your arm around her tightly, pulling her closer to your body. 

“We can shower together?” you suggest, digging your fingers teasingly into her naked hips. 

“Sure. Give me a minute.” She lays her head on your chest.

Despite your differences, you were truly happy to have this woman by your side through it all. She had been your longest supporter and that had meant everything to you when no one else believed in you.

You kiss her forehead softly. “I love you, Wanda.”

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

AN: Actually screaming and crying. Nat please come save us 😭

To be continued?

@holiday-house-of-m I finally kept my promise to you after 84 years.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Breakfast Time

My son’s stuck in a time loop again.

He thinks I don’t know, of course. He’s never told me that this happens to him (or that he can do this, possibly; I’m not sure which it is.) Maybe I’m a bad mother, if I haven’t proven myself worthy of that trust. But there is only so many times that one can watch their son trudge through a day with bored impatience, anticipating everything you say just a little too quickly and showing no surprise to even the most surprising event, and then come downstairs the next day disoriented but rejuvenated and with a new zest for life and a tendency to get blindsided by even the most predictable things, before one makes the obvious connection.

I don’t think he’s lived through this day too many times yet, because he’s not frustrated by my good morning joke but not surprised by the monster attack being announced on the news. He eats his toast makes polite conversation that sounds just a little too rote until his sister comes down, and he puts his toast down in that distinctive way that make her eyes widen in sudden realisation, a reaction I never would have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. He told her about three time loops ago, I think, although it might’ve been earlier and I just never noticed the signal until then. I make sure to keep the smile on my face as I push a plate of toast towards her.

The thing on the news is some kind of flying beast, and my son’s eyes don’t leave the TV screen. I expect that calm, solid determination that I usually see in his expression on days like this, but instead he watches it only with a wary sort of calculation. I suppress a sigh – it looks like I won’t be remembering today, then.

The pair exchange glances and look to me. “Hey, mum, I figured we should go to school early. We’ve both got these big tests coming up and – ”

“Yes, fine, whatever. Go.” I know what you’re thinking – obviously they’re off to do something dangerous, and obviously they’re far too young for this sort of thing, and obviously I shouldn’t enable this, and I’m a terrible parent for letting them run off to maybe get themselves killed someday. But I put this to you:

How, exactly, do you expect me to stop them?

As my son heads for the door, though, I almost stop him. I consider, not for the first time, just telling him what I know, what I’ve figured out, and asking him to explain everything, to say where he’s going and what he plans to do about that thing and if his sister is involved and if they at least have help, to put my mind at ease. I don’t, though. Because, logically… I must have done that before, right? In at least one of the countless days that never happened. I must have gotten worried or angry or just fed up with this ridiculous charade and told him that he wasn’t as good at hiding as he thought he was. He has to know that I know, right? And yet, he still chooses to let it play out like this.

Or, perhaps, he told me once. That must have happened, right? I must have been there to help, to patch his wounds and dry his tears and listen to him confess his fears or his worries or his regrets about this big responsibility, about whatever he’s doing out there. He must have told me, at some point, at least once, in one of those nonexistent days. And afterwards, he chose not to tell the me that stuck around. Meaning that I must have given him some reason to keep this secret.

What did I do to him? What did I say to him? How bad a confidante must I have been, that he chooses instead to keep me in the dark?

They leave, they ‘go to school early’, and I start on the dishes. As I wash my daughter’s breakfast crumbs away, the plate slips from my fingers and shatters on the tiles at my feet. I sigh, and turn to get a broom.

Then stop. Pick up all the other dirty plates. And shatter them, one by one, on the tiles.

Then I leave the mess behind me, pull a full tub of rocky road ice cream out of the freezer, and resolve to spend the day eating junk and watching youtube videos. After all, it’s not like it’s going to matter tomorrow, right?

[thelostconsultant]

Midnight rain

pairing: Lando Norris x reader

summary: Lando wanted a family, but you weren’t ready. Three months after your breakup, he's still in love with you, and now it's your turn to decide whether or not to give him a second chance.

“You’re exhausting,” you groaned into the phone.

It was well into the morning when Lando’s name flashed on your screen, which wouldn’t have been so surprising if you were in the same time zone. But you were in Singapore, six hours ahead of Belgium, which meant it was around three in the morning over there. When he spoke, his speech was slurred, he was obviously struggling to form coherent sentences, but he sounded hell-bent on talking to you right now.

Since you were almost at the stadium for rehearsal before tonight's concert, you didn't feel like keeping up the conversation, but the way his voice broke made you listen. You knew he hadn't been in the best state of mind since the breakup, but the fact he still felt so miserable made you sad.

“We would have beautiful babies, you and me. Why don't you want to see them? A mini you, or a mini me, maybe a mini mix of us… So cute,” he said, at least that’s what you managed to understand from his mess of a speech.

And he giggled. You could imagine him lying on his back, one hand holding the phone while the other hugged a pillow to his chest. Rolling your eyes, you thought about what to say to this. It was always the same story, he would call you, tell you how much he missed you, how much he loved you, how he wished you would marry him, and how much he wanted to have a child with you.

The same things that made you break up with him in the first place. He told you about his vision; a big wedding somewhere remote, then the two of you would travel together, preferably with you coming to his races as a good luck charm, and soon you would welcome your first child who would be spoiled rotten.

That's not what you wanted. You wanted to focus on your career, you wanted to go on tours, you wanted to make more albums, you wanted to do so much before becoming a wife and a mother. Lando didn't seem to understand this, he kept telling you it would be okay, that there were many singers who could return to where they'd been before, but you didn't buy it.

“Go to sleep, Lando,” you told him calmly, hoping that gentle parenting would work.

“No, I won't sleep until you're back to me. I'll stay awake and–Don’t touch my phone, Osc!” he protested suddenly.

You heard some bickering in the background, which was followed by a long sigh. “Hey, it's Oscar. I'm sorry, we stayed with him and have been trying to keep him from calling you, but he somehow snatched his phone back from Max. You okay?”

At least he was in good hands and under supervision. “Yeah, sure, thanks for staying with him. Good race for you two by the way,” you said with a smile.

“You watched it?”

“Well, I checked the results and saw the highlights.”

There was a short break which made you wonder if he was still there, but then he spoke up again. “Listen, I don’t want to be involved in this, but I’m worried about Lando. You broke up three months ago and he’s still a mess. I get it, you don’t want marriage and kids yet, but maybe he would understand your reasons and agree to wait if you just sat down to discuss it.” You didn’t know what to say to that, but apparently Oscar was also a bit hesitant. “Do you still love him?”

“I don’t know if it’s love, but I care about him. We were together for over three years, it’s not gonna disappear from my life in a blink of an eye,” you explained. “But… I don’t know, I’m just afraid he would be back at it in a matter of weeks, once again trying to convince me to start a family with him.”

“And if we talked to him when he was sober? If we made sure he understands what you’ve been trying to tell him? Would you give him another chance?”

You took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Would you? Would it be worth it? You were on tour right now, but after the next four concerts you would end the Asian leg and have a few weeks for yourself. You would have time to figure things out. “I would talk to him, and maybe I would be willing to try again. Once last time. The moment he’s back on his bullshit, I’m going to leave him for good,” you added.

You could hear the soft laugh from Oscar’s side, and you could see him glancing down at his teammate with a smile. “I’m sure he would like it. I’m not sure how long he’ll be knocked out once we convince him to sleep, but I’ll tell him to call you at a reasonable time when he’s finally sober again, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks for everything.”

He said goodbye and left you with your thoughts, wondering if you made the right call. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to be with him, because the years you spent together meant a lot to you. He was one of the kindest people you’ve ever met, a ray of sunshine, really, in stark contrast with your sometimes gloomy personality.

But who knew, maybe his friends can talk some sense into him.

Lando knew he only had one chance at this. All his friends were very clear about this, Oscar especially, since he had been the one to talk to you. During that one phone call a week ago, you agreed to come to him in Monaco, visiting his apartment so you wouldn’t have this conversation at a public place. It was something between the two of you, there was no need for strangers hearing even snippets of it.

When you arrived and his eyes fell on you again, every single thought left his brain. He was just standing there in the door, utterly speechless, surprised that he didn’t start drooling at the sight. After all those months spent looking at photos of you at your concerts, seeming like you had the time of your life on the stage, it was so nice to see this you, the one without the sparkling dresses, the down-to-earth girl he loved so much it hurt.

“Can I come in?” you asked him hesitantly.

He blinked a few times before realizing he had been staring for a little too long. “Sure, sure, come in,” he said as he stepped out of the way. “Can I bring you anything?”

Shaking your head, you sat on the couch and patted the empty space next to you. Like a well-trained puppy, Lando sat down and turned to look at you, taking in every little detail as if this was the last time he saw you. Because maybe this was the last time, maybe you would end the conversation with the decision that this relationship couldn’t be revived.

After several painfully silent minutes later, you finally stopped fidgeting with your ring and let out a long sigh. “I don’t want to start a family yet, at least not the way you want it. Marriage is one thing, but… You expected me to spend my time following you around. I have my own career to nurture, Lan, you need to understand that. Sure, one day I’ll be ready for it, but not yet,” you explained kindly, your eyes examining his face for a reaction.

But Lando knew better than to let his disappointment be visible, he fought hard to keep it away from you. So, when he spoke up, his voice was also kept neutral. “But you wouldn’t be against it one day, right? Starting a family with me, I mean,” he said, deep down hoping there would be a dazzling smile on your face as you replied.

You smiled, but it was more of a polite, maybe little uncertain smile. “Yeah, one day, although I can’t tell you when, I can’t give you a deadline. Maybe in our early thirties, maybe sooner. You would have to wait and see. Do you think you can do that?”

He couldn’t hold back a sad laugh, mostly because you didn’t really give him the choice to negotiate. You told him what you had to offer, and it was a take it or leave it situation. And he wanted you back in his life, he wanted to be by your side every step of the way, he wanted to be your biggest fan, and he needed you to support him. “I can. For you,” he added seriously as he reached out to take your hand.

[wonderjanga]

Sharing Can in Fact Lead to Caring

Sometimes Billy doesn’t need Solomon. Sometimes, Billy just says whatever that comes off the top of his head, it can be surprisingly helpful at times. (Billy doesn’t realize most of them are just coming to their dad figure for advice)

Such as the time Wonder Woman came to him concerned about time dilation. When Solomon explained what that meant, he had a pretty good idea of what she was talking about. Basically, she was worried about the afterword of the Justice League and her friends and how she would outlive them all. He brought her ice cream and they talked it out. In a way, he supposed he understood her. Billy couldn’t remember his mom or dad’s faces or personalities. He only had Captain Marvel to go off of and he guesses Mary, but she looks more like a young version of their mom. In the end, after much talking and trying to show he understands her worries, she seemed to be doing better.

Then, there was a talk with J’onn. The Martian had confided in not feeling at home with the humans. Not that he blamed him. J’onn had lost his home. So, Billy talked with him. Again, sort of relating. The way the Martian described missing his planet, reminded Billy of how he’d missed his parents. By the end of the talk, the Martian seemed to feel a little lighter after it.

Then, there was this kid.

Little Girl: *sitting on a bench alone*

Marvel: “Hey there, miss. Where are your parents?”

Little Girl: *stares* “There not here.”

Marvel: “Why’s that?” *sits down next to her*

Little Girl: *shrugs*

Marvel: “Well, then do you have any guardians?”

Little Girl: “I think so, but I don’t really like her. She’s mean. I don’t think she likes me or my foster siblings.”

Marvel: “Oh? You’re from foster care?”

Little Girl: *hesitantly nods head*

Marvel: “And I’m guessing you ran away?”

Little Girl: *nods again* “Are you going to tell on me?”

Marvel: “No. I ran away from my foster homes all the time.” *shrugs, doesn’t know why he’s saying this but might as well go with it*

Little Girl: “You did?”

Marvel: “Yeah. They were all terrible. And the ones that weren’t terrible were just neglectful.”

Little Girl: “What does neglectful mean?”

Marvel: “It means not paying attention to something. Like for example, I had this foster parent who would go days without coming home, leaving me and the other kids to have to feed ourselves. She wasn’t paying attention to us or our needs.”

Little Girl: “That’s sad.”

Marvel: “Yeah, it is. So, why did you run away from your foster home?”

Little Girl: “The lady who adopted me throws stuff when she gets mad. She’s mad a lot.”

Marvel: “That sucks. I had a foster home like that too. He would throw a bottles, forks, books, whatever he could get his hands on.”

Little Girl: “You did? Did you think it was scary?”

Marvel: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “You know, a friend of mine got adopted recently.”

Little Girl: “Really?”

Marvel: “Yeah, he’s been with them for about half a year now. He says they’re great. They’ve been fostering kids for a while apparently too.”

Little Girl: “That sounds nice.”

Marvel: “It is. Do you want me to ask about it?”

Little Girl: “Huh?”

Marvel: “Do you want me to ask him if there’s any spots open?”

Little Girl: *stares for a bit* “Yeah.” *stomach growls*

Marvel: “Alright, then I will. Now, how long have you been on the streets?”

Little Girl: “Oh uhm… a couple days.”

Marvel: “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” *stands up*

Little Girl: “Really?” *hops off the bench*

Marvel: “Yeah. You feeling chili dogs or tacos? Those are the only two vendors I know that’ll give me something free.”

Little Girl: “Tacos, please.”

Marvel: “Alright then- uh, my bad. I never asked your name?”

Little Girl: “Oh uhm it’s Darla.”

Marvel: “Darla? Alright then Darla.” *fatherly ahh smile* “Let’s go get you some food, ‘kay?”

So ya. He met Darla. She’s a sweet kid. He would need to ask Freddy more about the Vazquez situation. Hopefully, just hopefully, they could squeeze the little girl into their family.

Also, uh… I guess in this AU, Freddy met the Vazquez and got adopted because he went back into foster care for a bit for whatever reason. There, he got adopted into the family. Darla joins after him for this post to work.

[stevie-petey]

episode eight: papa

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

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

Rating: general, some swearing, violence

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

Words: 15.9k

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

–

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

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

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

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

The dreams continued after that night. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What secret, momma?” 

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

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

But then Steve was seventeen and he lost Nancy Wheeler.

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

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

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

She had gone into a vision. 

That’s when Steve turned to you. 

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

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

“Y/N!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you have her walkman?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what about Y/N–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For bug.

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

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

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

Steve shoves the headphones on you. Dustin presses play.

That’s when your body lifts. 

– 

Music. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Memories float through you, into you, around you. 

And you remember. 

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

You remember everything. 

“Y/N!” 

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

In my life, I love you more.

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

“Y/N, angel, stay with me.”

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

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

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

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

He’s real.

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

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

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

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

Then where is Nancy?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She remembers what she saw in your vision. 

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

Vecna made her see something else.

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

And she does.

– 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It works, albeit with minimal reactions. 

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

“I almost died. Cut me some slack.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I heard them, too.” Nancy whispers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But how?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

“And when he attacks his next victim–”

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

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

“Only a quarter is gone.”

“Y/N.”

“Okay, maybe a little more.”

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

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

“No idea.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, we do.” 

Your heart stops. 

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

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

“I can still feel him–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For both of us.” Max says. 

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

But you can’t. 

Not this time. 

– 

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

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

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

“War?”

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s not wrong.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You end up stealing a fucking RV. 

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

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

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

“I hate everything about this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

– 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re quiet. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lost time can always be made up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A mistake?” Nancy shakes her head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We were just catching up.”

– 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm,” your mouth is dry. 

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

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

Steve shrugs. “Half true.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not true!”

“Steve.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.” He doesn’t return your smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The War Zone sign fades into the distance. 

– 

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

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

“We’ll need to split into groups.”

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

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

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

“She’s got a point.” Dustin says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s too much.

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

“But–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s fucking terrifying. 

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

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

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

“Code blue?”

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

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

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

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

Your throat closes. “Dustin…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Trash lids?” You ask Dustin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet you believe Steve. 

“What did you see in your vision?”

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

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

Taking a deep breath, you tell him everything. 

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

Steve pulls you closer.

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

Warm. You remember the warmth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surprise mars his pretty face. “Me?”

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

Steve doesn’t say anything. 

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

Still Steve remains silent. 

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

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

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

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

It’s always been the how. 

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

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

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

The answer comes easily to Steve. “Always.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie’s laughter is gone.

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

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

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

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

– 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It catches you off guard, freezing your lungs. 

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

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

Talking to you… sweetheart.

Like pieces of a puzzle, everything falls into place.

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

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

And you believe her.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

[no-144444]

stoic much? -o.piastri

Day 21 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: oscar might be too good at the whole 'keeping a secret' thing. like, really good.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Meeting his fellow drivers’ families was always something that Charles had enjoyed. He liked to see how his competition grew up, how they treated their parents, how they treated their siblings.

He was more than interested to meet his ‘sons’ family, and at the Monaco GP.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“What time are they coming in?” Logan asked Oscar, the three of them walking the track with their engineers.

“A bit later. They landed like 2 hours ago but Ellie needed a nap,” Oscar explained.

“Have you met them already?” Charles asked Logan.

Logan smiled. “Oh yeah, they’re the best.”

Oscar chuckled. “And mom is coming in tomorrow with Hattie,”

Little did the three of them know, you were walking behind them with Ellie’s hand in yours, ready to sneak up on them. Logan, having a sneaking suspicion that someone important was behind them, glanced back and made eye contact. His grin widened and he stopped in his tracks, turning around and scooping Ellie up and into his arms. He covered her face in kisses as she giggled, him tickling her.

Oscar rushed to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours. “Hey baby,” he smiled. You two hadn’t seen each other in a matter of weeks, both of you too busy with your jobs. You, being one the highest paid lawyers in Monaco, him being an F1 driver.

“Log, calm with Ellie, she just got up!” you called after them, despite Logan already starting to run with her on his back. “She’ll be wired for the whole day!”

“Got it!” he called back, but he didn’t slow down. It didn’t bother you.

“Logan! Bring me back my daughter please?!” Oscar laughed and Logan obliged. As they got closer Logan placed Ellie down and she ran into her dad’s arms, who lifted her up and smiled as bright as he did the day she was born.

“Daddy!” she cheered, holding onto a strand of his hair. “Can we race?” she asked.

You chuckled. “Dad has to talk to Tom about the track first, then we can go race him, Uncle Log, Uncle Zhou, and Uncle Lan, yeah?”

“God, she’s going to be a racer one day,” Logan chuckled.

Oscar shook his head. “Don’t say that.”

You chuckled. “At least now you know how your mom feels.”

He shot you a particularly nasty side-eye after that, but kissed you all the same.

“What the fuck?” Charles stood there stunned. Oscar chuckled, covering Ellie’s ears as she snuggled into her dads neck, completely uninterested in the world around her.

“This is Y/n, my wife,” Oscar introduced.

“Hi Charles, nice to see you again,” you smiled, pulling him in for a hug.

“You two know each other?” Logan asked.

“She’s my lawyer,” Charles explained, stunned. “And you’re married to him?”

You nodded. “4 years and counting.”

“And this is Elizabeth, or ‘Ellie’, our daughter,” Oscar smiled, trying to coax Ellie to wave to Charles. She did, shyly, and his stunned expression broke out into one of joy. Charles loved kids.

“How did I not know this before?” he chuckled.

Oscar shrugged. “No one ever asked.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“You have a wife?” Fernando gasped, shocked as everyone else had been that weekend. Charles, ever the gossip, had told Max, who told Checo, who told Carlos, who told Lando (who already knew), who told Alex, who told George, who told Lewis, who told Fernando, who told Lance, who told Esteban, who told Zhou (who already knew), who told Valterri, who told Nico, who told Kevin, who told Yuki, who told Liam, who told Franco.

Oscar nodded. “Yeah I do-”

“You have a kid?!” Alex came up beside them, mouth open. Oscar retrieved his wallet from his trouser pocket and pulled out a polaroid of the three of you at Christmas last year. Decked out in a princess dress, Ellie stood between you and him, both in ‘ugly Christmas t’shirts’. All three of you were smiling like children.

“My wife’s name is Y/n, and my daughter's name is Ellie. Come by Mclaren to meet them,” he offered, then walked ahead to catch up with Lando.

“He’s joking, right?” Alex turned to Fernando.

Fernando chuckled. “You never know with him.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He wasn’t kidding. Alex found that out when he finally made the trek over to the McLaren garage and found you, sitting with Logan and Oscar as Lando showed Ellie off to the engineers and other drivers.

“Alex,” he smiled, introducing himself.

“Y/n,” you smiled, shaking his hand.

“I didn’t know you existed,” he chuckled. Pierre, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Fernando, Mark, and Lance were busy playing with Ellie (with both you and Oscar looking at them, you didn’t trust them that much) to pay any attention to you, just how you liked it.

“Not many people did,” you shrugged. “Oscar‘a ashamed of us-“

“Hello? That’s not fair!” Oscar argued, a smile on his lips. “No one asked!”

“We didn’t think we’d have to!” Alex argued back, laughing.

“I wear a wedding ring! I'm wearing my wedding ring!”

“You do wear gloves,” you reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m done with the two of you.”

“Ellie will just agree with us!” You called after him as he walked over to save his daughter from the eyes of his colleagues.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi