#idek why i think it was exhaustion

[altruistic-meme]

trying to decide if im about to implode or not

[thecherrygod]

.

[hyah-lian]

I have half made 2 (two) shitty little crochet things

i want a freaken nap but don't wanna screw the sleep thing up more hhhhh

[rheheartssquirrels]

Late Night “Talks”

Sevika x Reader

Smut with a bit’a fluff.

Warnings: Sex: degradation, ass slapping/griping, strap-on, crying, fingering, streching out your hoo-haa, and biting. (r! receiving)

Summary: You wake up in the middle of the night to find Sevika grousing in her thoughts. Where would the night lead you? Cozied up with your girlfriend or being roughed up by her? (You already know where this shit’s going idek why i put a summary…)

A/N: I couldn’t find any fuckass photos for this fic. Pinterest ain’t freaky enough!!

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

With a dry swallow, you stirr in your sleep. Groggily waking up and looking around. Sevika wasn’t in bed, and it was midnight. Maybe a work emergency? Probably out late gambling again. Would she really ditch you for a card game? You still couldn’t help but wonder if she was alright. Great risk came with being Silco’s second, both you and your girlfriend knew that. She was probably cleaning up after Jinx? You thought. Maybe even doing whatever her scrawny boss told her to do; her boss who you, very much, hated.

Shifting to a sitting position, you reached for the cup on your nightstand. Empty. Groaning with frustration, you pushing off the bed, and go to grab a cool cup of water. Making your way towards the kitchen, you hear rustling in the living room. Curious yet scared, you take careful steps and peak towards the room. Thinking it was you about to get robbed, you were expecting a man. Maybe even multiple.

Then again, if you had gotten robbed, one scratch on you and Sevika would go crazy. You’re talkin’ search the entirety of Zaun and find the asshole(s) who even thought of touching you.

But, to your surprise, it was your girlfriend. Sitting on the couch, hands inbetween her spread legs, and body tense. “Sevi?” You called out, slowly approaching her. She was leaned heavily onto the couch, looking surprised to see you. “Fuck..” Mumbling under her breath, she turned her head to you. “Did I.. uh, wake you?” Her voice a grumble as she patted the empty space beside her. You accepted her invite and plopped down next to her. Thighs touching, she huffed softly before her prosthesis arm came around your hips. “No, no.. I woke up to get some water.” You answered.

Judging from her eyebags and the smell of alcohol, she was drained. It was twelve fourty-eight at night and Sevika hadn’t had a wink of sleep. “You look exhausted, let’s go to sleep?” Bringing a hand to her hair, your slim fingers ran through her dark locks in order to untangle any knots, even brush away her tension. She grunted into the touch, clearly trying her best not seem weak.

Sevika had grown to think affection was weakness, it was to her pathetic in a way. So, your job, as her girlfriend, was to show her it was okay to open up, to express even the tiniest bit of vulnerability.

“Was it work? Again?” You tilted your head to try to get a better look at her face. Lidded red eyes and furrowed brows, she was definitely not okay. “Nah, just..” A weary sigh left her lips, “you should go back to sleep.” Of course she’d kept a wall between you and her job. No matter what, she’d made it clear she wanted you no where near what she did for a living. To stay out of her profession life. “At least.. give me an answer?” Hands now in your lap, you fidget with the hem of your red pajama shorts. Feeling grey eyes on you, you know you’re about to get a no. About to be shot down with a change of subject.

“Jinx.” She said, leaning forward with her arms on her spread legs. “That’s all you’re gettin’..” At her response, you silently thanked her for being, at least, a bit truthful, it was better than nothing. Letting her answer hang for a second, you smile widely and try to brighten up the mood. “I knew it!” Shoving her arm with yours, she chuckled lowly before placing her heavy hand on your thigh. “Hm, ‘course you did, you little brat.” Her voice was full of fondness, a hint of exhaustion still lingered as her thumb traced the inside of your thigh.

“Y’know I don’t want you gettin’ involved with my shit, right?” She’d said that a million times, but this time it was.. a little more heartfelt. She was protecting you, and you knew that. “Yeah, I do. But I expect you to give me some sort of explanation, instead of shuting me out. Yeah?”

The first few months of dating were rough. Sure, intimacy was sky rocketing but not so much the trust part. Emotions were usually bottled up by Sevika, and fucking you was her way of getting them out. Horrible coping mechanism, you’d tell her. Your girlfriend was more protective than a guard dog, hovering over you and staring you down whenever the two of you would head out. As nice as it felt to feel owned, it was irritating having her get riled up over small-talk with a friendly stranger. But, thank to your understanding, you and Sevika had grown out of the bad habits.

“Yeah, yeah..” She muttered out, resting her back against the couch with a huff. “I try to.” With that, the room held a comfortable silence. For a few seconds, Sevika’s words hung for a moment too long before she gave your thigh a squeeze, coaxing out a response. “Better than nothing.” Is what she got, which she smiled and shook her head at. “Anyways..” Voice less still, “What’d this pretty little thing do today?” Thumbs grazing over your soft, delicate skin.

Masterbate? Why?

“Books and this lame ass TV.” You lied, smiling and trying to hide the truth. But, this had happened countless times and Sevika was used to it by now. Used to your.. horniess. Patting your thigh and inching closer to your core, she spread your legs. “And, you expect me to believe that?” Voice amused and sultry, she moved to wrap her prosthetic around your hip and pullled you onto her lap. Your chest against hers, she grabbed the back of your neck and drew you into a much needed kiss.

Tongue entering your mouth, running along your lips, and then dancing around your own tongue, Sevika was completely aware of what she was doing. As much as you tried to keep your noises to herself, the feel of her biting your bottom lip and gripping onto your ass was what made you unable to restrain yourself. Whining for more you arch into her and cup her heated face. It was hard to ignore the pulse of your pussy. It was yelling for contact.

Sevika whispered a soft, “I feel it.” With a chuckle inbetween the kiss. Obviously, it made you embarrassed. You didn’t expect your cunt to be so fuckin’ needy, especially after a small peck on the lips. Pulling away, your girlfriend slid her giant, flesh hand up your shorts and rested her fingertip against your clit. A squeak escaped your lips and you had already begun to feel yourself getting wet. “Shit’s got a pulse, Baby..” She teased out, a cocky smirk on her face as her prosthetic arm gripped onto your hip to keep you still. “I know..” You huff out, resting your sweaty palms on your girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Let’s fix that, give you the satisfaction you’re clearly needing.” With that, she moved your underwear to the side and immediately slid her finger in. Being wet, you were already lubed up and ready. She took advantage of that and added another one of her big fingers. It filled you up, like.. completely. One more and you’d be streched out like some whore. Even though Sevika would fuck you like one.

Moaning at the movement, you shift your hips to find a comfortable position. Legs spread more evenly, back arched, and head coming to land onto Sevika’s shoulder. “There y’go..” Words murmured into your ear, she began moving. Curling against your g-spot, she slid her fingers in an out.

God, you wish she’d use her strap.

“Be a good bitch and stay still.” You obediently kept your hips still even though they were begging to be shuddered, to be able to tremble. Each in and out had you moaning and filling the living room with your lewd noises. Sevika’s eyes stayed on your figure before her prosthetic arm shifted to grip your tits, twisting your bud with enough pressure to make you whimper. “Sevi, baby..” Voice shaky and barely audible, you couldn’t contain the lewd noise that interrupted your sentence. “Faster?.. please?” — Pleading, you were fucking pleading. Sevika gave you a scoff, smacking your ass with her prosthetic arm before sinking her teeth into the skin of your shoulder. “You dirty little thing.” Was all she said before fastening her pace, even placing a thumb on your clit to give you more than one sensation to deal with. Circular motions on your bud as her two fingers worked inside of you to release the pressure bubbling up.

Each rub, touch, was enough to send you over the edge. But you wanted it to last longer, considering you’d been waiting to be fucked the whole day. Even masterbating didn’t work, your fingers were too slow for your liking. No dirty words were being whispered into your ear, which made the experience boring. Not to mention the absence of your girlfriend’s groans and huffs.

“Y’like that, don’t you?” She groaned inbetween biting and marking your shoulder and neck. “You’re getting fucked harder than this, Princess.” And with that, Sevika gave you the final rub to get you shuddering and whimpering out with pleasure. Arms tightly wrapped around your girlfriend, you cried out. You were at your peak, letting go of the tension in your body and completely melting against your girlfriend. Fingers sliding out, she made sure to clean them off with her mouth. Tongue licking off your cum, Sevika gave your ass a squeeze before pulling you to wrap your legs around her waist. Carrying your weary body towards the bedroom, she made sure to grab her thick strap-on.

Tossing you onto the bed, she stripped you naked with agressive, yet careful tugs. “Let’s see if you last long with a cock up your cunt.” She’d grunt out, taking her time to undress and stare over your perfect figure. Every curve, dip, and turn left her breath to hitch. She, herself, began to undress. Pulling her clothes off her toned and muscular body. The sight had your pussy thirsting for her. Tightening on her strap, she pulled you by the calves and held them up to her shoulders. You were positioned on the edge of the bed, legs spread as you laid on your back with Sevika’s strap dug halfway into your entrance. Enjoying the sight of you, she gave out a smug little grin.

“You’re gorgeous, baby..” Adoration and lust in her husky voice, she tilted her head to bite into your trembling legs. “Wanna see you writhing for me.” With that confession, she thwacked her cock into your pussy and it felt like your body had went numb for a second.

Sevika’s strap was thick, much thicker than her two fingers; which you could barely handle. So, for her to shove something so large in your cunt was new and a little painful.

Whimpering, you bring your shaky hands to your forehead and rest them there, letting your girlfriend thrust deep and hard until the sting of the strech was gone. Sure, it took some time, but afterwards you couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure— literally. You were crying. With each blow, your body was quivering. With your head spinning and heart pounding, you were a mess. “There you go, just like that..” Sevika smiled out, enjoying seeing those tears on your disheveled face. “Cry like the slut you are.” Leaning down to kiss your forehead, she held onto your hips as her thrusts became increasingly deeper, more steady, and stronger. “Fuck.. I.. I’m close!..” Head tilted to the side, you watched as Sevika placed a pillow under your hips.

Immediately, you felt the tip of her strap hitting your weak spot and you immediately gasped. The position was new and you knew for a fact that Sevika had done her research. “Shit.. Vika.. I… it’s too good..” You’d breath out, “S’fuckin’ good..”

You had found your new favourite position.

Hands gripping the sheets, you stare at the visibility of Sevika’s strap in you. You could see the way it went in and out, giving your flesh a bump. “Like seein’ it?” Your girlfriend huffed out, slapping your thighs before fucking you faster. “Yeah..” You nod, your moaned out answer a plead. “You’re fuckin’ filty for this cock, aren’t ya’?” She said, turning your pussy into a sex-toy with how rough she was drilling into it. The pressure was building up, heat pooling in your stomach as your body prepared for the release.

With the few final hammers, you let out a cry as your orgasm hit. Hands covering your face before sevika smacked ‘em away, your hips writhing and shaking at the intensity of your release. She enjoyed every second of your reaction. Furrowed brows, mouth open, eyes shut, cheeks a light red, and voice raspy from straining moans.

Holy fuck, that was probably the best sex you’d ever had.

Sliding out her cum-drenched strap, Sevika pulled your folds apart to see how much she’d streched you out. Your hole was ruined, completely owned by your girlfriend. Just as she liked it.

Body weary and sore, you gasped for air. Yeah, that was the definitely the last round. Head clouded and dizzy, you reach for your girlfriend as she pulled you against her chest with her prosthesis arm. The cool metal making your heated skin stand up with goosebumps. Grabbing a few extra-soft tissues, she wiped you clean. Shaking, you nuzzle into your girlfriend’s neck and breathed in that metallic, sweet smell of hers. You would always crave her smell when she was at work, even spraying some of her old cologne around the apartment to help with the loneliness. Eyes fluttering closed as you let your girlfriend clean you up, she rubbed your back with her flesh hand. Then, Sevika’s thick lips pressed loving and proud kisses on your shoulder and neck. Specifying going over the love-bites she’d left behind from earlier.

Your girlfriend was always good with aftercare, especially after ripping your pussy open, she knew you needed some time to cool down. Relax and regain your energy.

[nyatawia]

Having a rough month so far

[triple-kick]

Listen fellas this past year has been my first experience being hot and having the confidence that comes with it

THAT BEING SAID

i do not know how to deal with drunk girls who clearly like me

[stevie-petey]

episode six: the monster

Steve’s looking at you now and you can see all the cuts and bruises on his face. You want to wipe all the blood away, to stitch him up and place him somewhere safe so that nothing else can hurt him. You want to do all of this and more as he stares at you and silently begs you to stay, but you can’t. You shake your head at him and once again his mask slips; he’s just a scared teenage boy. You want to reach out, to grab his hand and remind him that he’s good, but you don’t.

summary: so nancy and jonathan are a Thing now and you really just need a good nap, the three of you go shopping for monster hunting supplies (which honestly isn't the weirdest thing you've done this week), an old man sells you a sentimental knife, and steve kind of accidentally kidnaps you with a sexy black eye.

rating: general, slight violence and a lot of cursing though

warnings: blood, fem!reader, use of y/n, use of the word "queer" in a negative way, steve being an asshole

words: 8.1k

before you swing in: hey guys ! sorry for the delay in updates. finals season took me OUT and then life kinda happened and suddenly i was hiding out from my roommate turned middle school bully ??? idek. anyways, here's chapter 6 which features the iconic alley scene and some very sentimental stevexreaderxjonathan scenes (theyre a mess). enjoy !

-

“Geesh, you’re not a sleeping beauty.”

Dustin’s face greets you when you open your eyes. He’s hovering over you as the morning light streams through your curtains with a determined glint in his eyes. 

“What–?” Your brain hasn’t caught up with what’s going on quite yet, still half asleep. 

“Wake up! I’m going to Mike’s so we can all talk about yesterday and I promised to keep you updated, so… Here’s me updating you.” 

Hearing Mike’s name is what causes you to fully wake up. Mike. The Wheeler’s. Nancy. Steve seeing Jonathan with her on her bed. You quickly sit up and knock your head against Dustin’s, causing the boy to yelp.

“Ow! What is wrong with you?”

“Sorry,” you say, rubbing your head as your brother glares at you. “Wasn’t intentional, honest. Can you wait like twenty minutes so I can get ready? I wanna come with, I think Jonathan spent the night there and I need to talk to him.” 

Your brother frowns. “Why would Jonathan spend the night at Mike’s?”

“I’d really rather not talk about it.” You say, hoping it’ll be enough of an explanation for him.

Dustin studies you for a moment and you really hope that last night’s events aren’t written all over your face. Somehow, everyone seems to know what you’re thinking and feeling before you even do. 

“Fine,” he concedes, but as he leaves your room he calls over his shoulder, “I’m taking the last of mom’s pancakes though!”

You flop back onto your bed, throw a pillow over your face, and groan. Looks like you’re stuck with a banana for breakfast again. 

When you eventually manage to make your way into the bathroom and shower, your bones ache from pure exhaustion. As the warm water runs over your body, you’re not quite sure if the ache is more emotional or physical. Probably a mix of both. 

You can’t remember how you made it home last night, but slowly it comes back to you in flashes. 

Steve and his wonderful boyishness that has become a breath of fresh air to you. The way he greeted you so excitedly, how he had been worried about Nancy.

Nancy, who you had left alone with Jonathan because of your own pathetic feelings. The girl Steve Harrington is obviously in love with. The same girl Jonathan, your Jonathan, is beginning to fall in love with. 

Then you remember the hurt in Steve’s eyes when he saw Nancy and Jonathan together on her bed. The water suddenly burns and you gasp out in pain and adjust the temperature. 

You know that Jonathan would never do something like that, try to get with someone in a relationship, but lately it’s felt like you don’t really know him like you used to. 

Distantly you remember what Steve had said to you, how he’d seemed so hurt on your behalf, that Jonathan had “everything he could possibly want” when it came to you. Steve claimed you deserved better. You vividly remember that part, the way he said it with such certainty and sincerity that it had made your heart stutter for a brief moment. 

Dustin’s pounding on the bathroom door breaks you from your thoughts. “Dude, hurry up!”

You yell at him that you’ll be out in a second and nearly slip and die as you hurry to get out of the shower. For someone who swore last night not to let stupid boy drama not get in the way of finding Will, you’re really bad at doing it. 

As soon as you’re dressed and ready, you and Dustin bike to the Wheeler’s.

Mrs. Wheeler, as usual, answers the door and lets the two of you in. Dustin heads towards the basement door, but before he goes down you tap on his hat to stop him. 

“Remember what we talked about last night, okay? Friendship, it’s always worth it.” You tell him, and he gives you a nervous smile. He thanks you, takes a deep breath, and then heads downstairs. 

Once Dustin leaves you make your way upstairs towards Nancy’s room. You haven’t been there in years, so you secretly hope you’re remembering the Wheeler’s layout correctly. With every step you take closer to the girl’s room, your heart pounds within your chest. You feel the same wave of nausea that you felt last night. 

When you reach her door, you take a deep breath, just like Dustin had earlier, and will yourself to knock. You’re not sure what you’ll find on the other side of the door, or if you even want to know, but you remind yourself that you’re doing this for Will. 

It’s all for Will. 

You hear rustling in Nancy’s room after you knock, followed by a quiet “hide!” and a loud thud that you presume to be Jonathan. In another life you’d laugh at the situation, but hearing their frantic hiding only makes your nausea worse. 

“It’s just me,” you say through the door, somehow managing to find your voice. It’s weak and frail, but they seem to hear you regardless. 

“Y/N!” Nancy sighs in relief when she opens the door. “God, I thought you were my mom.”

“Bug?” You hear Jonathan’s inquisitive voice, and when you poke your head into the room you see half of his body wedged underneath Nancy’s bed. He gives you a sheepish wave and you find yourself suppressing a laugh. 

You let yourself into the room. “Great hiding place, bee. Mr. Wheeler would definitely never find you there.”

Nancy’s eyes suddenly widen. “Oh, we didn’t– it’s not like that, I promise. Jonathan was gonna sleep on the ground, but I was scared and I guess we just… Yeah.” 

You notice the way she desperately avoids your eyes, almost as if out of guilt. Jonathan is no better, his head ducked in shame as he also can’t quite reach your eyes. When he finally manages to, his smile is a hesitant one. “Her bed wasn’t the same as the bean bag, bug.” 

His words are meant to be a sort of peace offering between the two of you, you know this by the way Jonathan’s voice is soft and unsure. He knows he’s crossed an unspoken line between the two of you, and you’re too tired to argue. 

“Yeah, I’m sure it wasn’t.” You offer him your hand, which he gladly accepts, and you help him up from underneath Nancy’s bed. 

Nancy watches the two of you and the way you immediately fall back into your comfortable familiarity together. Jonathan stands slightly in front of you as he always does, he hasn’t let go of your hand just yet. You stroke your thumb across his fingers that are interlocked with yours. 

She clears her throat, sits down on her bed, and motions for you to join. “So, I guess you’re here for a reason.”

You gently remove Jonathan’s hand from yours and sit next to Nancy while he’s left to awkwardly stand before the two of you. “Well, yeah. You guys kinda disappeared on me last night.”

Nancy and Jonathan exchange an uneasy look, which only leaves you feeling uneasy as well. Jonathan walks over to her side so that now he’s standing behind her as she sits on the bed. “I’m sorry, bug. It’s just… well, last night was fucking terrifying.” 

“What happened?” You ask, now discarding your confusing feelings. Out of habit you find yourself scanning over their bodies for any injuries, just in case the two of them need any care. 

“The monster… we found him.” Nancy whispers. She tries to explain more, but the memories seem to come crashing back and she shudders. Without thinking, you grab her hand and try to steady her nerves; she smiles.

Jonathan sees Nancy’s fear and steps in to explain. “After you left yesterday, we searched the woods like we planned. We walked around for hours and found nothing, but then we found a dying deer and before we could kill it…” 

“Something dragged it into the woods.” Nancy finishes. 

You hold your breath, now very relieved you hadn't joined them last night.

Jonathan continues. They’d been separated as they looked for the deer and suddenly he could hear Nancy screaming for help, but no matter where he ran he couldn’t seem to find her. 

“I followed the sound of her voice, it was like she was right there, but she wasn’t.” 

Nancy sits stoically next to you, her eyes have glazed over. You feel horrible for her, and you vaguely remember something that Dustin had told you about the Vale of Shadows

The Vale of Shadows is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters. It is right next to you, and you don’t even see it.

Slowly you piece it together. “Nancy, could you hear Jonathan, too?” 

She nods. “I was in the woods, but I wasn’t… I don’t know, it was– it was different there. Cold, I remember it was cold.” 

“And it was just like home?”

“What…” Nancy looks even more scared now. “How did you know that?”

You glance at Jonathan, worried that what you’re about to say will cause a reaction. “Will said the same thing when El was able to communicate with him.”

“Wait a minute,” Jonathan interrupts. “Nancy was in the… the Upside, or whatever Mike and them call it?”

“The Upside Down,” you confirm.

Nancy shudders once more. “I think that the monster lives there, feeding on that deer. So if Will and Barbara are there…” 

She doesn’t need to finish the sentence for you to understand what she’s getting at. Anything that feeds on something as big as a deer is fucking terrifying. If Will and Barb are really stuck in that dimension with the monster, then all your cautioning towards Dustin about getting his hopes up makes you feel ill. 

Will and Barb are basically trapped in that monster’s hunting ground. 

“My mom said she talked to Will.” Jonathan reminds the two of you. “And Y/N, the boys claim that El can still find him wherever he is. If he’s alive, there’s a chance that Barbara is, too.”

“He’s right, Nancy.” 

Nancy shakes her head. “But that means she’s trapped in that place.” 

“Look, this may not sound reassuring, but we have El and the boys. They’re smarter than the three of us combined.” Nancy and Jonathan look at you like you’re insane. “I know they’re young, but they’ve uncovered more than we have within the same amount of time. They’re the reason why we know about the Upside Down, and as we speak I’m more than certain that they’re out there right now trying to find a gate to the Upside Down.”

You take a deep breath. “Now, do I think they’ll find it? Absolutely. But do I fear they’ll find something even worse along the way? Also absolutely. But right now we need to focus on finding the damn thing so we can kill it and protect the kids in the meantime. If we do this right, we can eliminate any possible threat so that when the boys inevitably find another way into the Upside Down, we can just walk in and save Will and Barb.” 

While Jonathan still looks at you like you’re crazy, Nancy clenches her jaw and nods at you. “We have to find it again.” 

Despite how obviously terrified she still is, Nancy’s bravery impresses you. In a way, you suppose that Mike gets his unyielding loyalty from her, which if someone had told you that last week, you would’ve laughed in their face. 

But now? 

You’re relieved to have someone like Nancy Wheeler in your life, even if her presence has created some issues that you never would’ve thought possible. For better or for worse, she’s fiercely loyal and determined, just like you. 

Jonathan studies Nancy, clearly still worried about what she went through last night. “You wanna go back out there?”

The thought of her going back into the Upside Down makes you nervous. “Do we necessarily have to send Nancy back there? Can’t we just like, I don’t know, summon the thing? It clearly likes hunting for food in this dimension.”

“‘Hunting for food…’” Nancy mumbles to herself. She knits her brows together, seemingly drawing some conclusions. “When I saw it, it was feeding on that deer.”

“Poor deer,” you whisper, and Jonathan shakes his head at you to shut up. 

“Meaning it’s… it’s a predator, right?”

“Right.” Jonathan says while you go “Unfortunately.”

Nancy is on a roll now, her usually confident demeanor now back. “And it seems to hunt at night, like a–like a lion or a coyote.” She grabs a textbook that had been discarded on her bed and flips to a page showing other dangerous predators.

“But don’t most predators hunt in packs?” You ask, which has been something on your mind recently. Sure, you know there’s a monster, but how can you be sure there’s only one?

Nancy bites her lip. “Yeah, but for some reason this thing is always alone… like a bear.”

“Honestly, I’d take a bear over whatever the hell we’re dealing with here.” Jonathan once again shakes his head at you, but you wave him off. “Let me lighten the mood, damn.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Nancy smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she continues explaining. “Jonathan, remember at Steve’s, when Barb cut herself?”

For a brief moment you see guilt flash across his face at the mention of that night at Steve’s, the photos he took, and he meets your eyes. “Yeah, I remember.”

“And then, last night, the deer…”

Now you’re beginning to understand. “There was blood, wasn’t there?”

“There was,” Nancy now flips to a page about sharks, which you can’t help but frown at. Maybe you really weren’t following along. She begins to ramble about how sharks can detect the smell of blood from a quarter mile away. 

“I thought I escaped all this science stuff when I tagged along with you guys instead of the boys,” you mumble, trying your best to follow along. 

“The thing can detect blood, bug.” Jonathan clarifies. 

“But it’s just a theory,” Nancy corrects, now turning around so that she can face him. 

They stare at one another, almost as if they’ve now synched together and created a world outside of yours, and once again you feel like there’s no room for you here anymore. 

“We could test it.” Jonathan says, still staring deeply into her eyes. “But if it works…”

“At least we’ll know it’s coming.” 

You notice how Nancy leans in close to Jonathan, more than she once did before, as if he’s her only source of support after what happened last night. In a way, you suppose that now he is. He was the only one there last night when the monster almost got her; they went through something horrible together. 

Something that creates a bond like no other. 

Suddenly Nancy’s door rattles, causing you to jump in her bed while she grabs for Jonathan’s hand. You don’t hear the exchange between her and her mom, too busy reeling over the fact that Jonathan’s fingers are interlocked with hers. 

Jonathan, the boy so against physical touch that the only person he lets hold his hand is you, which took almost a year of friendship to even make him comfortable with. Now here he is, holding Nancy’s hand after only a few days. 

Your heart hurts. 

You know it’s pathetic to be so upset over a natural reaction. Nancy has been through something traumatic and Jonathan had been the one there for her, so naturally she reached out for him. While you know it doesn’t mean anything, it still fucking hurts. You’ve always been secretly elated by the fact that you were the only one who received Jonathan’s affection, his forehead kisses and hair ruffles and his hugs. 

Holding his hand has become second nature to you, long familiar now with the way his fingers feel between yours. 

And now they’re between Nancy’s. 

“Y/N? You still with us?”

Nancy waves a hand in front of your face, and suddenly you’re aware of how long you’ve been staring at the two of them. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m here… still here.” 

“You alright, bug?” Jonathan asks, now a bit worried about you. 

“Peachy!” You try desperately to make your voice light, but the nausea that hasn’t left you since last night once again threatens to make you sick. “Enough about me, though. What I’m hearing is that we need to buy some monster hunting supplies. I mean, unless we plan on beating it with my humor.”

You wink at them, and while Nancy seems reassured by your bravado, Jonathan knows better. He raises his eyebrows at you and tilts his head and you know he’s asking what’s really going on? and all you can do is shake your head in a please don’t ask any more questions or I will sob right here right now way that only he can understand. 

Nancy doesn’t notice this exchange and instead gets up from her bed. “Well, if we’re going shopping for supplies then I should get ready. Y/N, I’m sure my mom will give you some pancakes if you ask.”

Right on cue, your stomach rumbles. “Thank God she loves me. I’ll smuggle some up for you, bee.” 

He thanks you before you and Nancy exit the room. She heads for the bathroom while you make your way downstairs.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you’d gone upstairs!” Mrs. Wheeler greets you and immediately you’re handed a steaming plate of homemade blueberry pancakes. 

Mr. Wheeler huffs. “Do we have to feed the entire neighborhood?”

“Good morning to you too, Ted.” 

The man glares at you as you thank Mrs. Wheeler for the food. You make up a quick lie about working on an assignment with Nancy and that you’d prefer to eat in her room so you can finish up an equation you’d been in the middle of. 

“So, may I bring it upstairs?”

“Well…” Mrs. Wheeler purses her lips, not too keen on the idea. 

You give her your best and most parent pleasing smile. “I promise I’ll be careful, not a drop of blueberry will get anywhere. Scout’s honor!”

“Oh, alright. But please tell Nancy that this will only be a one time thing”

“Of course, Mrs. Wheeler.”

You leave her alone with a grumbling Mr. Wheeler and a fussy Holly.

–

Nancy is still in the bathroom when you return and Jonathan is awkwardly sitting on her bed, looking around the room as if he’s in some foreign land. 

“Ya know, I’ve never been in a girl’s room before.”

“Gee, thanks.” You scoff at him, setting the plate of pancakes down on Nancy’s desk before digging in. You’re starving. 

“That’s not what I meant, bug.” He flashes an apologetic smile. “Your room is just… Well, it’s not very girly, is it?”

If you hadn’t promised Mrs. Wheeler you’d be careful with the food upstairs, you would’ve thrown a piece of pancake at Jonathan’s face. “Dude, shut up.”

“Shit, sorry.” He makes his way over to the desk and wraps his arms around you as he always does. “What I meant is that this room is so pink, while yours has more comics than I can count.” 

“Don’t forget Spidey posters,” you say with a mouthful of food while simultaneously handing a piece to him. “Anyways, I like pink. I think this room is lovely, honestly. I wanted to paint mine this color when we first moved, but Dustin said if I painted the room pink then he’d never hang out with me in there. Alas, I forfeited.” 

Jonathan laughs and accepts the pancake. “Him and the boys have you wrapped around their little fingers. You know that, right?”

You lean against him, relishing in the feeling of his strong chest against your back. “Mmm, I know. I’m a sucker for those idiots.”

Jonathan tightens his hold around you and draws you deeper into his chest. “I know, it’s what I love the most about you.”

His words are like ice against your skin and suddenly his arms feel suffocating around you. 

You clear your throat and lean forward to lessen his hold on you. “Right, well. You just love it because they listen to me and you can round them up better when I’m around.”

“It’s not just because of that, bug.” Jonathan draws you in again and you’re too weak to fight it. He rests his chin against your head. “I love how you love those around you.” 

The air has become thick between the two of you. 

The way you love people terrifies me, Jonathan’s words from a few days ago echo within your head.

So what’s the truth? Why is he saying all of this?

“Bee,” you bring your hands up and hold onto the arms that are still securely around you. You’re not sure what exactly you want to say, how to explain the warmth you feel for him that simmers within you when he says your name or the way it turns into a furious boil when he looks at Nancy like she’s the damn moon. “You promised you’d call last night.” 

“I know–”

“I was worried about you.”

“And then I ditched you.”

“Again, might I add.”

You put her first, you think.

Jonathan sighs and places a kiss against your hair. “I know.” 

A tense silence follows. Mrs. Wheeler’s wonderful pancakes now taste like cement in your mouth. God, you wish things could go back to how things once were. You miss when Jonathan could wrap his arms around you and the weight of it wasn’t so crushing with all its unspoken implications. 

“I’m sorry, bug. I really, really am sorry.” His voice is strained and he tightens his hold even more, as if to remind himself that you’re still there with him. “I was so scared last night, and had you been the one taken instead of Nancy…”

“But I wasn’t. She was.” You try to keep any emotion out of your voice. 

“I know… I just, I had to make sure she was okay. I promise that nothing else happened. You know that right? Just, please tell me you believe me.” His voice cracks and you finally turn around to wrap your own arms around him. 

“Bee, of course I believe you.” Your words are muffled against his stomach, but he hears you. He always hears you. 

You understand why he stayed at Nancy’s, you really do. But it doesn’t make the sting of it any less painful. You feel awful about what she experienced last night, no doubt forever traumatized by it, but the bitter taste of no longer having Jonathan all to yourself is something you’re still getting used to. 

“You forgive me?” He asks, so faintly you almost don’t catch it.

You lift your head up and catch Jonathan’s eye. “There’s nothing to forgive, bee.” 

And you mean it.

The smile Jonathan gives you as a response, the smile that has always made your knees weak, is just yet another reason why you can’t ever risk what you have with him. 

– 

This may come as a shock to some, but you’ve never set foot in the army supply store. 

The place makes you uneasy. You’ve never been comfortable around weapons, and like you told Nancy earlier: if it ever came down to it, you’d prefer to use your charm (but mostly your wits) rather than violence. It just isn’t your thing. 

While you and Jonathan wander aimlessly around, Nancy seems to know exactly what you guys need. She begins throwing things into the basket around her arm without hesitating and you exchange a look with Jonathan. Clearly it’s a good thing you’ve wrangled Nancy into this mess. 

You wander some more and break away from the group, eyeing the insane amount of weapons, traps, and knives offered in the store. It’s overwhelming and you realize you have no real idea what you’ll even need. Guns unnerve you, the bat Nancy brought just seems silly to use. So what does that leave you?

Your eyes land on a knife with both its ends extended. Its handle in the center is a polished wood that’s a deep ember and the blades themselves are sterling silver that glisten in the dim store lighting. It’s a beautiful weapon. 

As you reach for it to inspect it, one of the store employees, an older man, walks up behind you. 

“That’s a switchblade. It was donated to us years ago.” You jump at the man’s words and he flashes you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, miss. Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’m just more skittish than usual this week.” You’re not sure why you admit this to the man, and when he gives you a curious look you clear your throat and change the topic. “You said this was donated?”

“Oh, yes! Here, have a feel for it.” Before you can stop him, he places the knife in your hands. 

Your fingers skim over the smooth wood and you notice some words engraved in it. The letters are scuffed, presumably from age. “Was there writing on it?”

The old man’s smile becomes a sad one. “The switchblade was from this old man, he made it for his wife and claimed she loved to keep him on her toes. So, he had the word ‘button’ engraved in the handle because–”

“She always pushed his buttons?”

“Yeah,” the man laughs. “That’s exactly what she did.” 

There’s a far off look in the man’s eyes, as if he’s remembering a warm summer day from his childhood; bittersweet and filled with fondness. He reminds you of your grandpa whenever someone brings up your grandma who died when you were young. You roll the blade over in your hands. “You knew the woman, didn’t you?”

“I did, but she’s long gone now,” he confirms, his voice wobbling.

“I’m sorry for your loss, sir.” You reach over and place your hand on his forearm, which he smiles at. 

“Don’t be. Martha would be glad someone like you has her knife, now.” 

You immediately drop your hand and try to give the switchblade back. “Oh, no, I can’t possibly take this–”

“It’s yours. You’re the only one who has paid any attention to it. I’ll show you how to use it if you make me a promise.”

Before you can argue more, Jonathan calls out from a few aisles down. “Bug? Where’d you go?”

“I’ll be there in a second, bee!” You turn back to the man. “What kind of promise are we talking about?”

“Bug and bee? Martha called me birdy because a bird swooped on me the first time I ever met her,” the old man chuckles with affection. “Anyways, promise me that you’ll use this with love. I may own this store, but violence never leaves much room for love.” 

The agreement comes easily to you. “Of course.”

And with that, the old man shows you how to flip the switchblade open. It only takes a simple flick of the wrist for the blade to glide back into the handle in the center, and with another flick they smoothly glide back out once more; the way the blades move in sync leaves you in awe.

“You can use both the blades or only one, but I sense that you know that things are always stronger together.” The old man says, a glint in his eyes as he hands the switchblade back to you. 

You smile at him and try it out yourself; the switchblade fits perfectly in your hand and you’re easily able to get the blades in and out. As you’re admiring the way the blades balance each other out, Jonathan appears by your side. 

“Hey, ready to check out?” 

You nod and thank the old man, who waves you off with a friendly goodbye. 

“Who was that?” Jonathan asks once you’re out of earshot from the man. 

You show him the switchblade. “You remember that theory you had about me attracting old people? You’re gonna love this.”

– 

Nancy plops down bear traps, gasoline, and a multitude of other supplies she acquired while you were off talking to the old store owner. The cashier, a significantly younger looking man, looks at the three of you as if you’re insane. 

“And I’ll have four boxes of the .38s.” Jonathan says, and you flash the employee your award winning smile just in case. You recognize how insane this all looks.

“What are you kids doing with all this?” The employee asks, and you Jonathan both instinctively turn to Nancy for help. 

She shrugs, playing the question off well. “Monster hunting.”

The guy laughs and finishes ringing you guys up before the three of you head out to Jonathan’s car. He’s carrying most of the stuff in a box while you and Nancy start loading the bags into his trunk. You quickly help him with the box once you’ve placed your bags down.

“‘Monster hunting’?” Jonathan teases and Nancy just smirks. 

“How do you think that guy would react if he knew we were telling the truth?” You snort and Jonathan can only shake his head in amusement. 

Nancy laughs and bumps her shoulder against yours. “You know, last week I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve might like.” 

Hearing Steve’s name makes you freeze. You completely forgot that Steve had been there with you last night at the Wheeler’s. He had seen Jonathan and Nancy together on her bed. You remember the anger in his eyes and your heart sinks. King Steve would never just let something like that go.

“Hey, uh, Nancy?” You try to interrupt the girl, but she’s too focused on her story.

��It took me and Barb all weekend, it seemed like life or death, you know? And now…”

“You’re shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers and Y/N Henderson.” 

You grab at Nancy’s jacket to try and get her attention, but she only has her eyes set on Jonathan. “Nancy, I have something to tell you–”

“What’s the weirdest part? Me or the bear trap?”

“Guys I really need you to listen right now–” Again they ignore you, lost in their own little world that you still don’t have access to. 

For a moment you wonder if you even should warn them, but you know it’d be wrong not to. You could be imagining it, but your new switchblade almost seems to warm up within your pocket as if to remind you of your promise to the old man. 

Nancy’s eyes shine as she looks at Jonathan and you want to scream. Now is not the fucking time. “You. It’s definitely you.”

You clap your hands in front of their faces, finally breaking the two of them out of their spell. “Hey! Assholes! Trying to save your asses!”

Jonathan bats your hands away from his face. “What are you talking about?”

“Steve, he, uh…” You take a deep breath, trying to figure out how the hell you’re supposed to word this, before a car honks and some creep calls out to Nancy. 

“Can’t wait to see your movie.” The boy laughs, which causes your blood to turn cold. The Hawk movie theater, where Jonathan works… In a twisted way, Steve Harrington is a fucking revenge genius.

“What the hell was that?” You hear Jonathan mumble, but your ears are ringing. 

Nancy turns to you, now with distrust in her eyes. “Steve. You said his name.”

“Nancy–I, I forgot and–” You stumble over your words as the girl’s eyes harden. You didn’t mean for this to happen, you don’t know how you forgot. She doesn’t wait for you to finish whatever the hell you were about to say and starts running after the car. You’re quick to follow after her, already knowing what you’ll find. 

“Where are you guys going?”

“Just come on, Jonathan!” You shout behind you. 

Nancy sees the board before you do and the gasp she lets out makes you want to cry for her. There, in big, ugly red letters on the Hawk’s clapperboard are the words spelling out “All the Right Moves Starring Nancy the Slut Wheeler”. 

It’s an awful, awful fucking thing. 

And it’s Steve’s work, you know it is. 

You hear Jonathan gasp out behind you and you see the crowd that begins to form around the three of you. Everyone stares at Nancy and whispers cruel things about her and it takes everything within you not to cause a scene. How fucking dare they. They have no right. Steve had no fucking right. 

In the midst of your anger you notice the tears beginning to form in Nancy’s eyes and you immediately run over to her side and grab her hand. You pull her into a hug and whisper reassurances, promising her that it’ll all be okay. She lets you hold her and you feel so fucking awful. You should’ve done more to protect her. 

Then, you hear the distinct sound of a spray paint bottle rattling followed by Tommy Hagan’s screech of a laugh. Nancy tears herself from your grasp and runs into the alley where the noise is coming from. You follow after her and see Steve and his gang spraying even more things onto the Hawk walls. 

There’s a steely look in Nancy’s eyes and you worry for a moment that she might hurt someone. It’s not that you don’t think it’s warranted, but you’re sure Jonathan’s boss has already called the cops on the teens and they’ll be here soon. Nancy can’t afford to get into any trouble right now. 

“Nancy, I don’t think you should approach–”

She ignores you and angrily marches over to Steve. 

“Hey there princess!” Carol sneers, and you have to refrain from spitting on her. Right now this is about Nancy, you need to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid and to also ensure she knows that you’re right behind her to support her. She needs to know that you’re here for her. 

“Uh oh, she looks upset.” Tommy teases. When he sees you, he lets out another cackle. “Holy shit, Harrington. You were right! Henderson really is a pathetic push over if she’s here with the girl who slept with her boyfriend!” 

Tommy’s words enrage you and you’re about to just say fuck it to your no violence policy when Steve shuts him up. “Knock it out, Tommy. I told you Henderson’s with us–”

Nancy’s slap catches both you and Steve off guard. Everyone gasps in shock but you start laughing, immensely proud of the girl’s strength. “Nice one, Wheeler.”

She spares you a quick glance before steering her glare back at Steve. “What is wrong with you?”

Steve clenches his jaw. “What’s wrong with me? No, what’s wrong with the two of you?”

“The two of us?” Nancy asks. Steve juts his chin in your direction and she turns around, now more confused and hurt than ever. “What does Y/N have to do with any of this?”

A lump of anxiety forms in your chest. “Nancy, I can explain–”

“I was worried about you,” Steve lets out a bitter laugh and distantly you remember saying those exact words to Jonathan a mere hour ago. You guess you understand the boy more than you may want to. “I can’t believe that I was actually worried about you.” 

Nancy opens her mouth to respond but Steve cuts her off, now walking towards you. “And you… I always knew you were too nice for your own good, but defending the girl who stole your boyfriend?” He hovers over you; you can smell his expensive cologne this close as he says his next words so low that they almost come out as a whisper, “well, I expected more from you, Y/N.”

You freeze, overwhelmed with his presence. He lingers, you’ve never been this close to him, his eyes are darker than Jonathan’s and filled with more disappointment than anger. You know he can see right through you in a way that fucking terrifies you; he knows. 

“What are you talking about?” Nancy exclaims, effectively breaking whatever moment was going on between you and Steve. He backs away, his eyes still lingering on yours, before facing Nancy once more. 

Your words catch in your throat, still reeling from your encounter with Steve, so it’s Carol who breaks the silence. “I wouldn’t lie if I were you. You don’t want to be known as the lying slut now, do you?”

“Don’t call her that,” you manage to say, though you can’t seem to stop looking at Steve, who is looking right back at you. 

“Speak of the devil,” Tommy’s voice alerts you of Jonathan’s arrival. You look up and see what the idiot has written on the wall behind him.

“‘Byers is a perv’? Wow, you guys are geniuses when it comes to insults.” You snort, feeling Jonathan place his hand on the small of your back to steady you. He can sense your anger brewing. 

“It’s okay, bug.” He whispers. You relax a bit into him, but you’re still fuming. Steve watches the interaction with an interest in his eyes that lets you know Jonathan’s tenderness with you has only pissed him off more. 

Steve points at the two of you, looking around at his friends. “Aww, how sweet. You guys see that? Tell me, Henderson. Did he whisper sweet nothings into your ear after he slept with my girlfriend?”

Both Jonathan and Nancy speak at once. He denies you two being together while Nancy now understands that Steve had seen her and Jonathan in her room last night. 

“Henderson and I both, actually.” Steve corrects, and you want to punch him. 

Jonathan turns to you, guilt creeping into his voice. “You saw?”

“Now isn’t really the time, we need to help Nancy–”

“Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that.” Nancy says, looking at Steve and then you. “I promise, Y/N. Nothing happened.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Right, that’s what Henderon said. You just let him into your room to… study?”

“I was telling the truth.” You grit out, but Steve and the others ignore you.

Tommy steps in front of you and Jonathan. “Or for another pervy photo session?”

Jonathan steps towards the boy but you grab his jacket, not allowing him to go any further. You understand he’s angry, but just like how he won’t let you do anything stupid: you won’t let him, either.

Nancy shakes her head furiously. “We were just–”

“You were just what? Finish that sentence,” Steve steps closer to Nancy now and you find yourself preparing to step between them if needed. “Finish. The. Sentence.” 

The only sound in the alley is the sound of Nancy panting. She can’t think of what to say, what can she even say? Steve won’t believe her regardless. To him, she’s already done the unspeakable and hurt him in the worst way imaginable. You feel for the two of them, no one can possibly win in this situation. 

When Nancy doesn’t say anything, the angry expression on Steve’s face slips for a moment and you see the heartbroken boy underneath his mask. It happens only for a second, but you see it. You know you saw it. 

“Go to hell, Nancy.” He scoffs. 

“Harrington, you don’t mean that.” You say, trying to help him out. He’ll regret burning this bridge with Nancy, you can see how deeply he cares for her. He loves her, even if he can’t admit it. If he walks away now, he could lose her. 

While you’re talking to Steve, Jonathan breaks free from your grasp and pulls Nancy away, which only seems to upset him more. 

“You said yourself that we aren’t friends, Henderson. You don't know me. As for you, Byers, I always took you for a queer. I guess you’re just a little screw-up like your father.” 

Steve begins to push Jonathan now, but Jonathan has harshly grabbed your arm to pull you away. He doesn't want you involved in this, you know he just wants to get you and Nancy safely out of the situation, but you resist him anyways and try to push at Steve.

“What, you're gonna help your douche of a boyfriend?” Steve sneers at you, and Jonathan will definitely leave bruises on your arm with how tightly he has to hold you back. “Oh, yeah. That house is full of screw-ups.”

He pushes Jonathan again and this time you manage to spit at his feet. “Shut the fuck up, Harrington.”

“I’m just telling the truth. You know, I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family.”

Jonathan stops now. You do the same. Nancy sees this and urges you to keep walking, but you and him exchange a look. You hate violence, you really do, but the Byers family is your own family. Aside from how protective you are of them, you also know the anger that Jonathan has buried within him. If Steve keeps pushing it, you’re afraid of what Jonathan may do.

“I mean, your mom? I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother.” 

You hate violence. You could never, ever hurt anyone. But you’re starting to feel really fucking close to understanding why people seem to enjoy it. “Leave his mom and Will out of this.” 

Steve ignores you and continues spewing bullshit. Jonathan is tense next to you and it’s only now that you notice his clenched fists and his ragged breathing. Steve has gone too far.

“Steve, shut up!” Nancy begs as you now leave Jonathan’s side to begin pushing Steve back. A fight cannot break out. It’s broad daylight and too risky. You can’t let Jonathan put himself in danger. 

“Harrington, you need to leave.” You urge him as you push against his chest, but he just gently pushes you aside and follows after Jonathan.

“But the Byers?” He keeps hitting Jonathan’s back and you have to use all your weight to pull him away. It’s no use. “Their family, it’s a disgrace to the entire–”

Jonathan’s punch lands perfectly upon Steve’s face.

In any other moment, you’d find the accuracy incredibly hot. 

Instead you push the thoughts aside and rush over to him while Steve regains his composure. “Bee, listen to me. Cops could be here any second, you can’t fight–”

You scream as Steve tackles Jonathan onto the car and then the ground. Nancy begs them to stop and has to wrap her arms around you to keep you out of the fight. The sound of skin hitting skin sickens you. 

“Nancy let me go,” Steve lands another punch on Jonathan and the sound his head makes when it hits the ground causes you to cry out. 

“Y/N, Jonathan wouldn’t want you to jump in–”

“I have to help him!” The pure anguish in your voice is what makes Nancy finally let you go. You immediately rush over and try to pry Steve off of your friend, but he doesn’t see you approach and almost lands a blow at your face. 

Jonathan sees this and grunts out, “don’t touch her,” before punching Steve in the face once more and throwing him off. They’re both standing now as Steve’s friends egg the fight on and Nancy pleads for them to stop. You tug at the boys’ clothes to try and break them apart, but you know you’re weak against them. You force yourself to think of something else, and right as you’ve formed a plan, Tommy is the one who steps in and punches Jonathan.

“Get out of here, man.” Steve yells, not wanting anyone to fight his battles for him. 

You slap Tommy across the face. “Fuck off!”

The boy raises his fist to punch you and you don’t have time to do anything else besides flinch and brace yourself for the hit, but Steve intercepts it. “Tommy! I said get out of here!”

You’re in a daze as you process what’s just happened, but then Jonathan starts throwing more punches and suddenly Tommy has his arms around you to hold you back. You try to break out of his grasp, but he’s a lot damn stronger than Nancy. 

All you can do is helplessly watch as your best friend beats Steve Harrington’s face in. He lands one punch, then two, then three, and for a horrifying moment you’re afraid that Jonathan might actually kill him. 

“Jonathan! Stop!” You scream, tears now streaming down your face. 

He has Steve pinned on the ground by the time the cops come. 

“Shit, the cops!” Tommy lets go of you to help break up the fight right as the two officers arrive. They struggle to get Jonathan off of Steve and somehow he manages to punch one of the cops in the nose. Of course he fucking punches a cop in the nose.

You rush over to try and help, but as soon as the cops have Jonathan you feel yet another pair of arms wrap around you. You don’t know who it is, but they start to drag you away while the cops arrest Jonathan. You try to twist around to face your assailant, thrashing and kicking. “Why do you all keep grabbing me?”

“Fuck, Henderson! Stop kicking me, I’m already bleeding!” Steve groans, still carrying you in his arms as he and his friends flee the crime scene. 

You struggle more against him, but you’re exhausted from your previous attempts of breaking up the fight and you’re still crying. You can’t do anything besides making it extremely difficult for him to carry you and throw out a multitude of insults and cuss words. You have to get to Jonathan.

Once they’re a few yards away, they slow down and Steve finally places you back on the ground, though his arms remain around you. You manage to free your own arms and begin punching him in the chest. “Let go of me! Jonathan just got arrested because of you!” Every word you say is followed by a punch. 

“Jesus Henderson! I just saved your ass, quit it!”

“Saved my ass? You just beat up my best friend and he’s bleeding and needs my help and–”

“He’s a cheater! So is Nancy! They deserve each other and if you go back there right now you’ll be arrested and they’re sure as hell aren’t worth getting arrested over!” Steve is screaming at you and shaking you by the shoulders, urging you to understand. 

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not with Jonathan? And you’re wrong! It wasn’t like that between him and Nancy, you have to understand that.” You scream back at him, faintly aware of Steve’s friends watching in the background. 

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not a fucking idiot, Y/N.” 

“You sure about that?” 

“God, you’re so naive.” Steve shakes his head. “It’s always the nice ones who are the most naive.”

His words cut through you; you look him in the eyes, “Get fucked, Harrington.” 

Steve lets go of you, surprised by your words while his friends gasp. “I was just trying to help.”

His voice is soft, as if he’s afraid to admit this to you, and you know that in his own way he means it. Steve had only been trying to help, but he hurt the people you love in the process. You hesitate, unsure how to respond.

Steve’s looking at you now and you can see all the cuts and bruises on his face. You want to wipe all the blood away, to stitch him up and place him somewhere safe so that nothing else can hurt him. You want to do all of this and more as he stares at you and silently begs you to stay, but you can’t. You shake your head at him and once again his mask slips; he’s just a scared teenage boy.

You want to reach out, to grab his hand and remind him that he’s good, but you don’t.

Instead, you turn away and run back towards the alley and Jonathan.

-

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CAN I GO WHERE YOU GO? 920 words | bucktommy | 7x06 coda a/n: look it me! i wrote something :P just a soft little thing that i couldn't stop thinking about <3 idek how long it has been since i published something episode related lol so be kind and gentle if you please<3 title is kinda just what fit best lol, enjoy!

Buck twirls his niece around as music plays quietly over a speaker, barely loud enough to hear over the quiet chatter. He swings her up and deposits her next to her newly-wed parents, and they look perfect. Buck remembers the reception of her first wedding, his cheeks didn’t hurt from smiling then, they do now, and by the looks of it so do Maddie’s. 

“You might want to–” she points toward the chair in the corner that holds his beast of a boyfriend, a bottled water coming dangerously close to slipping from his exhaustion-induced slack grip. 

“I should get him home, the adrenaline has worn off. I love you both so much, and you,” he ruffles Jee’s hair and leans in for a group hug, placing a kiss in his sister's hair. If he thinks too hard about everything he might cry, so he leaves unsaid and squeezes her tight hoping she understands. 

He takes the water bottle from Tommy’s hands and stands between his legs, gently cupping his cheek, “Hey, you are exhausted, let’s get you home. I’ll drive you.” 

And Tommy looks up at him through his eyelashes– how had Buck not noticed those before now? 

“You don’t have to– you should stay here. I’m sure Maddie–” 

“What she wants is for me to get you home safely, and visiting hours are almost over anyway.”

He can see Tommy trying to come up with a rebuttal, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to say something and then gives up.

Buck grabs Tommy’s turnout coat from the back of the chair, folding it over his arm and taking Tommy’s hand in his. 

“Congratulations again you two,” Tommy says as enthusiastically as he can before they turn toward the door.

—

Buck is awkwardly sitting at a table in the common area of Harbor. It feels weird to be in another station without his reason for being there within sight. Tommy had assured him that it was okay for him to sit, and if anyone gave him trouble to tell them that he was there with him. 

“Buckley! What are you doing here?” a familiar voice nearly makes him jump out of his seat. 

“Lu-Lucy! Hi.” 

She stands behind the chair across from him, leaning on her elbows on the top of the chair. And she actually waits for him to answer. 

“I-I’m waiting for Tommy. Had to swing by to drop off his turnouts and get his bag.”

Her brow crinkles a little and she cocks her head, “his shift ended hours ago?” 

“He uhhh, he came to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. He’s pretty exhausted so I’m driving him home.” 

“He went to a wedding after that fire? In his turnouts?”

“It was at the hospital, wild story really. And I asked him to be there, so he was.” he blushes a little as he watches her do a little math. 

“Donato! Are you bullying Evan?” Buck can hear the smile on Tommy’s lips as he feels his hand land on his shoulder. He looks up at his boyfriend, and Tommy leans down, giving him a light kiss on his cheek. He looks a little brighter after rinsing off in the station showers and changing back into his Henley. 

“I was wondering why you had table privileges,” she smiles. “So, Chim finally got hitched huh, tell him and Maddie congrats for me.”

“Will do,” Buck smiles at her, and she walks away toward what he assumes is the snack cabinet. “Let’s get out of here and you into bed huh?” 

“You read my mind.” 

—

There’s a stillness in the car as they sit in Tommy’s driveway. 

“Evan, come inside. You’ve had a long stressful day too.” 

It’s like Tommy is inside his head, he doesn’t want to be alone tonight, not when he didn’t have to be. 

“And if the texts you sent me last night are any indication, you also did it all while hungover which I’m sure wasn’t all that pleasant. And, besides, you still owe me at least one dance.” 

“You are practically falling asleep sitting up and you want to dance?” 

“It’s what I was promised.” 

TOmmy reaches over the console between them, turning Buck’s face toward him, leans in and kisses him in earnest. Not quite as intense as their greeting earlier and not as gentle as their first. “Just come inside please,” he says just above a whisper against his lips. 

“Okay.” 

—

Buck takes in Tommy’s little house, it’s cozy with some of its years showing. 

“You can move past the entryway Evan. Just take your shoes off.” 

“Oh,” he replies softly, barely having noticed that he was slightly frozen. He toes off his shoes.

“C’mere,” Tommy holds out his hand, a song that Buck doesn’t know the name of softly drifting from the speakers. He lands in his boyfriend’s arms and it feels like it’s exactly where he is supposed to be. One hand on his neck, the other clasped together in Tommy’s, his other hand resting on his waist. It’s mostly quiet as they sway in the middle of the small living room. 

“You know, I never really got the whole hot firefighter thing until I saw you walk through those doors?” 

“You really are adorable.” Tommy smiles.

“Thank you for today. It means a lot that you did really try your damndest and succeeded.” He says earnestly. 

“Of course. It was important to you.” 

And Buck can’t help but kiss him for that, and he does, because he can. 

[gor3-hound]

MAMA'S BOY - NERO

ft. nero x fem!reader

a/n: if nero does not stop looksmaxxing omfg why is it so hard to find a pic where he isn't mewing? this is admittedly so super self-indulgent and idek what the dmc fandom on tumblr is saying so... if this gets four notes i'll still die happy. feedback and reblogs appreciated :3 ty to @thevirgincherry for beta reading !! ilysm MWAH

cw: 18+ content, mdlb, nipple play, tit play(?) in general, use of mama, handjob, cum eating, super sappy smut basically

word count: 1.8k words

“You've gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Is the first thing that spills past Nero's lips when you mention shifting the dynamics a little bit in your relationship. He's giving you an incredulous look, one of his brows arching towards his hairline.

“I'm really not. You're so irritable all the time. You need to let yourself relax. All that cynicism is getting to your head.” You say with a frown, your brows furrowing as you look at your boyfriend. He's giving you that look again - the one that says he's about three seconds away from saying something downright horrific, but he's choosing not to - to spare your feelings, of course.

“Right. And so, what… you coddling me like a kid's meant to�� miraculously make me a ray of sunshine?” He scoffs, his own brows pinching together in frustration as he runs his hand through his hair. The cybernetic one, ‘cause his human hand is currently twitching at his side. “Baby, I love you, but seriously. I've been handling myself for a long while. I don't need you to do it.”

You know it's not that - you know Nero well enough to recognise the uncomfortable shift of his feet and the way the tips of his ears turn a slight pink. He's embarrassed, even if he's trying to hide it. A sense of unease always comes over him when he thinks about being taken care of. It's a luxury he's never had - one he thinks he doesn't deserve.

You give him that look that he really, really hates. ‘Cause you really are the only person that's always looked out for him, so seeing the way your eyes narrow in frustration is enough to have him wanting to kneel at your feet with his tail between his legs, rubbing himself against your thighs and pleading until you forgive him.

Shit. Maybe he's more cut out for this whole ‘mama’ shit than he thought.

His resolve wavers, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck before he lets out a soft sigh and nods. “Alright, alright. I’ll try it out, but I ain't promisin’ shit.”

                              ˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Turns out all Nero needs is a few stern words and gentle touches and he's rolling over like a good boy, exposing the soft underbelly he tends to try and keep hidden. When he comes home drained and you're quick to guide him to a bath, it's hard for him not to completely melt under your attention.

Scratch his scalp when you're washing his hair, and he's fully ready to go all ‘yes, mama’ to whatever you want. He's happy to bare himself for you. You want him bent over the back of the couch? On all fours? He'll stick his tongue out and beg for it like a good boy if it meant you'd give him that proud expression that makes his heart feel like it's beating again. Mama gets what mama wants, and that's an irrefutable fact.

“C'mere, baby.” You coo after he makes his way into the apartment after a long day of ‘work’. Blood splatters his feet dragging against the floor. His movements are exhausted - slow and rugged. You can see that glazed over look making itself present in his eyes, his gaze somewhere off in the distance.

His body is working on autopilot as he makes his way to the sofa you're sitting on. He flops down next to you, and the change in him is immediate. The tension melts from him as he buries his face into your chest, nuzzling his way between your breasts as his hands clutch your waist tight enough that it's almost painful.

“Mama…” He croaks out, pressing himself right up against you, trying to wriggle his way on your lap without ever having to disconnect any part of himself from your warmth. You cradle him as best you can - it's not necessarily the easiest thing to have a 6’2 demon hybrid trying to curl up on your lap like a kitten, but he always manages to find a way to worm himself into your arms, clinging to you like he's scared you're gonna vanish as soon as he closes his eyes.

He's never found it so easy to be loved by someone. You gave him that unconditional, no strings attached love. You loved him just ‘cause he was worth loving in your eyes. Not because you needed him for something, or because you had some sense of pity for his situation.

You were easy to love, and his love for you was unwavering and all consuming. It was far too easy to fall into you with your kind eyes and gentle touch. He didn't have to deal with the shit of his life when he was with you. He could finally relax. He was safe.

“Missed you.” He breathes out against the skin peeking out from the low collar of your shirt, his blue eyes flicking up to gaze at your face. His nose brushes your skin, his hands pawing at your shirt as if he's trying to entice you to take it off. “Mama… please.”

“You gotta ask properly, baby. Use your big boy words, c'mon. What do you want from mama?” You coo, running a hand through his white hair. You let your nails rake over his scalp lightly, enjoying the way he shivers at the touch.

His hands slide under the fabric of your shirt, trying to tug it off anyway. He's never been good at this part - getting the words out. His cheeks grow all pink and he gets quiet, just whining until you let him pull the shirt off of your body. As soon as your tits are in view, he's licking, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he can get his mouth on.

“So impatient, baby.” You scold lightly, helping him adjust slightly so you can slip down his trousers, freeing his cock. It's already rock hard and leaky, the tip flushed red as it oozes precum down his length. “S'okay though. It's not your fault. Mama knows you can't think straight without her help.”

You give his dick a squeeze, his face scrunching up so prettily as he bucks his hips into your tight grip, his cock pulsing in your hand. “Mama… Mama, please. I'll be good, c'mon. Been good, just tou-”

His words are cut off with a groan as you finally start pumping his length in your hand, circling your wrist and running your thumb along his slit everytime you fist the head of his cock. You let go to spit into your palm before stroking him again, leaving him panting into your breasts.

His lips latch onto one of your nipples as you continue touching him, slick sounds filling the room. He suckles greedily, his eyes becoming heavy-lidded as he looks up at you, his tongue flicking eagerly against your nipple.

Your free hand cups his head, holding him against your tit as you let him fuck your fist. Your thumb brushes back and forth on his scalp as he pulls away from your nipple, biting and sucking marks into the flesh of your tits instead as his thumb plays with one of your nipples, stroking and pinching the bud.

“You're making such a mess, baby. Leaking all over mama's hand.” You tease, digging your nail lightly into his slit as he bucks his hips, a low whine spilling from his lips. “You sound so pretty, though. Lucky I'm so good to you, huh, pretty boy?”

You can see the conflict on his face at that nickname, the twitch of his brows and the way his face heats up, his teeth biting down just a little harsher as if he's trying to protest the choice. He can act all he wants, but his dick doesn't lie - and it always kicks when you call him that.

“Mama… gonna cum, mama, please…” He grits out, fucking your fist with more urgency. He pulls his face away from your tits just so he can shift his body to gain better control of his hips, rutting into your hand desperately as he chases his release. “Tits, mama. Lemme… lemme cum on you, please. I'll clean it up, promise. Please.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, watching him writhe as he struggles not to cum, his eyes tearing up and his face all flushed as he continues to jerk his hips, unable to stop chasing the pleasure you're giving him.

“Alright, baby. C’mere then.” You murmur, shifting to lie on your back. As soon as your grip on him loosens, he's quick to straddle your waist, kneeling over your body as he hungrily fists his cock, aiming it down towards your breasts.

“Fuck, mama. Gonna… gonna cum.” He grits, his hand quickly coming down next to your head to support his weight as he slumps forward, ribbons of white coating your chest. His lips part in a silent moan, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

He takes a couple of seconds before he leans down, his tongue sliding along your soiled skin. He laps up every drop of his release happily, his eyes practically shimmering with satisfaction.

“There we go. Such a good boy, cleaning up your mess.” You say softly, your hand finding his hair once more, scratching behind his ear in a way that never fails to have him melting in your grasp. He rests his head on your stomach when he's cleaned you up fully, his hand reaching out for yours. He yawns a little, letting himself lie across the couch while using you as his personal pillow.

“You sleepy?” You ask softly, gazing down at his hooded eyes. Nero nods softly, blinking slowly a few times. You smile at him, still stroking his hair with one hand as your free hand comes down to rest on his back, your thumb rubbing small circles there. “Take a nap, baby. Mama will be here when you wake up.”

He gives you another one of his looks - the one halfway between pure adoration and complete confusion. He knows you're someone that sees him. That sees Nero behind the front he puts up. Somehow, you're aware of how fucked up he is, and you're still willing to stay. He doesn't know how to take it, he can feel himself getting choked up as he meets your eyes. And he can't cry, not in front of you. So he nods again, closing his eyes to keep in the unshed tears, wrapping you up tightly in his free arm while his hand squeezes yours as hard as he can without hurting you.

“Alright, mama. Night.” He croaks out, the words he wants to say dying on his tongue. But when you rub your thumb over the nape of his neck and squeeze his hand back, he knows you felt it. He knows you love him, too. He knows that despite everything, it's enough for you. 

He's enough for you.

[tevanbegins]

When we find out Lucy has joined Air Ops in the last few episodes of season 6, Buck is all "yeah that's cool, great for you" and all but not once does he express any curiousity or thrill at the prospect of pursuing a career as a pilot himself.

It's only because of his huge crush on Tommy that he asked for the tour of Harbor station in 7x04. He wouldn't have cared if he didn't get to see the choppers or the offer for flying lessons, he just wanted to spend time with Tommy in any capacity. At the time he only resorted to showing interest in Tommy's work specialty because he didn't exactly understand the nature of his feelings for Tommy and didn't know how else to get his attention. He would have gone and stared at rocks for hours if Tommy had invited him to do something as mundane as that, the boy was smitten so bad. That's why he came for the basketball game despite hating the sport so much because he knew Tommy would be there.

That's why he stared at Eddie in the firehouse because he was trying to think of ways to get himself invited to the game. All to see Tommy again. If his face fell when Eddie ignored him, he smiled again when he realised he could go to the game with Chimney instead. If Eddie was the one Buck wanted, he would have probably shoved Tommy on the court instead of Eddie. If Eddie was the one he loved, he would have not only been ashamed but horrified about what he did, not leaving Eddie's side even once until his ankle sprain got better even if the injury was minor. Instead the boy was busy having a meal with his sister at her workplace, adulting at home doing boring paperwork, and later reveling in the surprise kiss from Tommy in his kitchen and the date he just got. Not that he didn't care about his best friend but he was also maybe a bit pissed that he was becoming a major cockblock over the past several days, never leaving room or time for him to hangout with Tommy. But he called Eddie after being urged to do so by Maddie and Tommy, once his insecurities were addressed.

If Tommy was an unnecessary part of the equation, why would Buck ask Eddie when he was going to see Tommy again and hoping to be invited to the karaoke bar trivia night? Shouldn't he have devised some other plan that he and Eddie could do without Tommy? Eddie hanging out with Tommy was not really a problem for Buck. It was them doing it without him, his best friend excluding him in all of their plans and Buck missing out on all those chances to spend time with Tommy and get to know him better was what drove him nuts.

It's all so obvious and Buck says as much! Nobody asked him to tell Tommy that trying to get his attention was exhausting. It was completely unprompted and came from a place of genuine realisation. He was the one who started flirting with the head tilt and asking if the Muay Thai lessons would be right after the flying lessons. He is not a teenager to be so confused. In that moment he knew what he wanted and got it too!

Idek why I am writing all of this at this point but let it be known that we're not going to let some people's delusional misinterpretations change our understanding of the canon that's so crystal clear. We have the showrunner's interviews backing up our interpretation as well.

I seriously can't wait for the new season to start and see further development for Tevan so that we have something new to gush about (and the antis have something new to misconstrue) instead of going over the same stuff over and over!

___

[graciegoeskrazy]

i'll give you one more time

part 2 to she's begging you to stay stay

Matty Healy + preteen!lost!daughter!OFC!r

warnings: idek yall, language i think, dead mom, slightly shitty dad, this isn't even my usual angst this shit is just SAD, r is twelve

a/n: long awaited part 2! enjoy!

The ride home was a heavy, suffocating silence, the kind that pressed down on your chest and made it hard to breathe. Every ounce of your willpower was spent keeping the tears from spilling over, your eyes stinging as you stared blankly out the window. You couldn’t even begin to comprehend why you’d acted the way you did. Yes, times were tough, and you were teetering on the edge mentally, but surely there were other ways—better ways—you could’ve handled things. Yet, none of that mattered now. The only thing consuming your thoughts was how Matty would react when the two of you finally walked through that door.

The day had dragged on, filled with more emotion and exhaustion than either of you could have anticipated. Matty knew that a conversation was inevitable, that you both needed to talk—really talk—but as he glanced at you, he realized now wasn’t the right time. 

You were a mess, physically and emotionally. Your hair was tangled, matted with dirt from your adventure on the London streets, and your clothes were no better, stained and disheveled from the day’s events. It was clear that you were drained, the weight of everything you’d been through etched into your weary features.

Matty sighed, feeling a pang of guilt for what you’d endured, but also a deep sense of protectiveness. He wanted to fix everything, to make it all better, but he knew that right now, the best thing he could do was to give you a chance to breathe, to decompress. The conversation could wait—tonight, what mattered was getting you cleaned up and comfortable.

The silence between you became too much to bear. Matty gently placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you before you could head inside. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet. “I’m not mad, okay?”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, your eyes clouded with guilt and confusion. “I ran away, Matty. I scared the shit out of you—”

“Yeah, well, you’re safe now. That’s all I care about, okay?” he interrupted, his tone firm but laced with concern.

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. “You should be angry.”

“I’m not—”

“You should be yelling at me, kicking me out of your house, something!” The words spilled out before you could stop them, along with the tears in your eyes, the rawness of your emotions catching both of you off guard.

Matty’s expression softened, a mix of sadness and disbelief crossing his face. “What makes you think I would do that?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, your voice cracking as you tried to hold back tears. “I just… I don’t know.”

Matty sighed, stepping closer and gently tilting your chin up so you’d meet his gaze. “Listen to me, Tilly. I’m not going to kick you out, and I’m not going to yell at you. I’m just glad you’re here, that you’re safe. We’ll talk about everything, but not right now. Right now, I just want you to take care of yourself, okay?”

“Go take a shower,” Matty said softly, his thumb brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “Get some rest. We’ll figure everything out later.”

You hesitated, the weight of the day pressing down on you, but finally, you nodded. The fight had drained out of you, replaced by a deep exhaustion that made it hard to argue anymore.

 You looked up at him, eyes heavy with exhaustion, and nodded without argument. There was no energy left to resist, no fight left in you for tonight. The promise of a hot shower and a bed was all you needed.

Matty watched as you trudged upstairs, each step slower than the last, and he felt a knot of worry tighten in his chest. He wanted to say something, to offer comfort or reassurance, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he silently vowed to be there for you when you were ready to talk, whenever that might be. As you disappeared down the hallway, Matty lingered for a moment, running a hand through his hair. The house was quiet now, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, like it was waiting for something to happen. But for now, he decided, it was enough to let you find some peace, even if only for a little while. He made his way to the living room, sinking into the couch with a weary sigh. The day had taken its toll on him too, but his thoughts were with you. They always were. The sun was setting outside, casting long shadows through the windows, and Matty closed his eyes for a moment, letting the quiet of the house wash over him. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but tonight, all that mattered to him was that you were home and safe.

—-------

You’re asleep, lost in a dreamless world where the weight of reality has, for a moment, lifted. As your father started the trek back to his room, he noticed the light peaking through the crack beneath your door, to him, indicating you were awake. He let out a soft sigh and took a detourour to your room. He knocked, “Matilda.” You don’t stir. Your name, the one your mother gave you, is still new on his tongue even after all this time, as if he’s trying to make sense of it, to make it his own. There’s a slight pause, and then he speaks again, his voice lower, softer. “Matilda George. It’s late, you should go to bed.”

There’s no response, only the sound of your steady breathing as you lie curled under the covers, the peaceful rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the room. Matty hesitates at the door, the silence stretching out between you. Finally, with a sigh, he pushes the door open wider. “I’m coming in.”

The door creaks open, and a soft, golden light spills into your room, touching the edges of your bed. His footsteps are careful, almost hesitant, as he crosses the threshold into your room. He stands there for a moment, just watching you sleep, his expression unreadable in the dim light. You’re completely unaware, lost in the depths of slumber, oblivious to the fact that he’s here, that he’s looking at you with something akin to longing.

And then his gaze shifts, catching on something beside you—your diary, lying open on the bed. He hadn’t meant to look, but the way the pages fall open, revealing your handwriting, draws his eyes. Curiosity tugs at him, and before he can think better of it, he reaches down, picking it up.

His eyes scan the words you’ve written, the pages filled with all the things you’ve been too scared or unsure to say out loud. The confusion, the loneliness, the raw ache of trying to understand who he is to you and who you’re supposed to be now. He reads on, the lines blurring together, each word a glimpse into the parts of you that you’ve kept hidden away.

I used to keep track of how many days it had been since I last saw my mother. In the very beginning, I would count down to the exact hour—sometimes even the minute. I’m not sure why I did it. Maybe it was a way to cope with my anxiety. I think I was just measuring the time until I thought my world would blow up again.

I never stop thinking about my mom. I could be laughing and having a nice conversation, and then, all of a sudden, a dark gray cloud comes and blocks my happiness. A part of me doesn’t want it to stop, though, because I’m scared I’ll forget her. In my mind, the day I go a whole 24 hours without thinking of my mom is the day I will have moved on. And I don’t want to move on. Miss Julia asked me the other day, “If you could reverse the cancer and see your mom again, would you?” I replied, “Obviously.” Then she said, “Even though you wouldn’t have Matty?” I didn’t answer.

Overall, I think that’s a harsh question for a twelve-year-old, but whatever. I know she’s right, though. Maybe I wouldn’t reverse it.

My mom was in unspeakable pain—pain that I can’t even begin to understand, pain that I hope I will never experience. I’m not sure where she is now, but I like to think it’s somewhere nice, somewhere she’s at peace. One thing I do know for certain is that she isn’t in pain anymore. She’s free. If I were to reverse things, I would be taking that freedom away from her. I would be calling her back to her pain.

I have a lot of realizations in that small office with Miss Julia. After that session, I realized that with all my thinking about how things could be or could have been, I have yet to fantasize about how life could have been if Matty had been there from the beginning. If he knew about me. If he had been my father from the start.

I don’t understand why my mother didn’t tell me about my father, or why she never told him about my existence. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because she wanted to ‘protect me’. He’s not that bad. He’s kind. He makes me laugh from time to time. I enjoy his music, but I would never outright admit that to him. If it wasn’t for him being my literal father, I’d say we could be twins. But still, she never said a word to him.

I know it’s not because she was ashamed and tried to keep me a secret, but that thought always crosses my mind whether I like it or not.

I know very well that I said I didn’t want to go home with him, and even after I agreed, I promised I would find somewhere else to stay. And he was fine with it. As long as he knew I was safe. The truth is, I can’t imagine growing up anywhere else. I don’t think I want to.

I want to be with my father. I want to call him ‘Dad’. I want him to know that I love and care for him, but I’m too terrified to. I’m also scared that if God forbid, something terrible happens, he will never know how much I love him. Because I don’t think I said that nearly enough to my mom.

I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t know how to help him. I have six years left before I’m an adult. He would have to agree to raise me for six years. That could either go really bad or good. I don’t see an in-between.

I’ve played it out in my mind. I will either get exactly what I want or nothing at all. I’m too scared to ask, to tell him that I care, so I’ll just stay silent for now. Because truthfully, I have not a single clue how to do this.

Matty read every single word of your last entry, his eyes tracing each line as if they were the most precious secrets. What struck him the hardest was the realization that if someone could peek inside his brain, take out his thoughts, and lay them side by side with yours, they would be almost indistinguishably similar. That comment about being like twins? It wasn’t far off. And every day, he was noticing it more and more.

He knew it was wrong to be reading your diary, an invasion of privacy he had no excuse for. But he couldn’t stop. He was too caught up, too addicted to the patterns of your mind—patterns that were so familiar because they mirrored his own. The pull was irresistible, like seeing a reflection of himself in your words, understanding you in a way that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

He was so engrossed in his re-reading that he didn’t notice you stir or open your eyes. When you finally took in the sight of him with your diary in hand, you froze, then rolled your eyes. “Reading my diary, are we?” you mumbled, your drowsy state adding a touch of comedy to the tension.

Matty jumped, startled by your voice, and hurriedly closed the book, pushing it aside. “I thought you were asleep!” he stammered, his guilt obvious.

“And I thought the cardinal rule of diaries was that no one else is supposed to read them?” you continued, a sly smile tugging at your lips.

He shook his head, trying to backpedal. “I didn’t read it—I swear.”

“Yeah, you did,” you shot back, the sly smile now full-blown.

“Yes, I did,” he admitted, not missing a beat, the look of defeat settling on his features. “I’m sorry.”

You looked down wearily, adjusting yourself as the weight of the moment settled in. Matty, still feeling the need to say something, continued, “I didn’t know you were a writer.”

“I’m not,” you replied simply.

Matty scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t see many twelve-year-olds putting out words like this.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing off the compliment. “I’m not putting them ‘out.’ I’m putting them in a three-dollar notebook I got at the grocery store.”

He shrugged, not willing to let it go. “They’re good nonetheless.”

You offered him a weary, tight-lipped smile, the kind that said you were too tired to argue but appreciated the sentiment. Matty’s tone softened, almost a whisper. “Sit up for a second.”

Your eyes changed, a flicker of panic flashing as you realized he had actually read everything you wrote—all of it. You hesitated, your heart racing. “You said it was time for bed.”

“This will only take a second.” His voice was gentle but insistent. After a weary pause, you sat up, looking at him with guarded eyes. He took your hands in his, the gesture tender as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then looked at you, his expression serious. “You don’t have to go anywhere, Matilda.”

For a moment, the room was silent. You’d been waiting for this conversation for months, but you never expected it to happen now, like this. “Yes, I do,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Where?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

“Somewhere where I’m not in your way.” You slowly pulled your hands from his grasp, the distance between you growing in that small action.

“You’re not in my way, my love,” he said softly, trying to reassure you.

“I could be. I will be,” you insisted, your voice trembling slightly.

“No, you won’t,” he said, a bit more firmly this time.

“You don’t know that,” you whispered, doubt creeping in.

“If you’re anything like me—and you are, whether you like it or not—we’ll have some challenges,” Matty admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’ve wasted so much time…and missed out on so many things over the last twelve years, Tilly. I’ll be damned if I miss one more.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

You looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of uncertainty, but all you saw was a sincerity that made your chest tighten. It was overwhelming, the idea that someone could care about you this much, could want you around despite everything.

His expression softened even more, a sadness flickering behind his eyes. “You’re not a burden, Matilda. You never were, and you never will be. I want you here, with me. I need you here.”  It was almost as if he was reading your mind.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “But what if I mess up? What if I make things harder?”

Matty shook his head, squeezing your hands gently. “Then we’ll figure it out together. I’m not going to let anything get in the way now. Not even your doubts.” You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but for once, it wasn’t out of fear or sadness. It was a relief. Matty reached out and wiped the tear away, his touch gentle, like he was afraid you might break. “You’re stuck with me, babe. I don’t know what to tell you.” He said, lips pulling into a smile.

At that moment, something shifted between you, an unspoken understanding that you were no longer just two people navigating this confusing, painful world. You were a team—a family, bound together by something far stronger than blood or circumstance. It was love, pure and simple, and it was enough.

You leaned into him, letting your head rest on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe things could be okay, that maybe you could find a way to be happy, despite everything.

And as you sat there in the quiet, the weight of the world lifting just a little, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you wouldn’t have to face them alone. 

You had your dad, and he had you.

[worldsanna]

i love you, i’m sorry

a/n -> idek what this is, i just wanted to write something for this song, enjoy <333

it was the rain.

i swear i was fine until i watched the droplets of water begin to pour down onto the ground.

the sickening crack of thunder accompanied the obnoxiously loud sounds of the rain, almost as though the universe was laughing at me.

as my wet t-shirt stuck to my skin, i was brought back to the one night that i wanted to forget more than anything. the night that i ruined everything.

i was holding her in my arms, consoling her after another failed attempt at a date. she had grown desperate, fearing that she would never truly find the right person for her.

but how could she think that when i was right there? i was always there.

i dropped everything and anything the second she needed me, yet it was never enough for her. usually, i would suck it up and push my feelings aside. but not that night.

“this dating thing is stupid. you’re never gonna find love if you keep trying to force it. this is getting exhausting, aren’t you tired?”

i had finally reached my breaking point, and i snapped. i snapped at the one person who i genuinely didn’t think i could live without.

it was selfish of me, and she made sure i knew it.

“you’re my best friend, you should be supporting me instead of discouraging me. just because you’ve given up on finding love doesn’t mean i should”

she was right, to a certain extent. a good friend would support her, but that was the issue. i didn’t want to just be her friend anymore.

“i’m not discouraging you, i’m just trying to point you in the right direction”

“why the hell would i even take advice from you? no offense, but your love life has been pretty non-existent lately”

she had never spoken to me that way before, but i could tell that she meant the words.

i was so wrapped up in the pain that her words brought me, that i hadn’t even realized that she was making her way towards the door.

before i could will myself to stop her, she twisted the knob and stepped out into the pouring rain. she stood there for a few seconds, waiting for me to speak up. she wanted me to fight for our friendship, but i simply couldn’t. i was tired of this same cycle, repeating itself over and over again.

she goes on a date, it goes terrible, she comes crying to me, i encourage her to get back up onto her feet, and she finds someone new. every. single. time.

i couldn’t spend the rest of my life chasing after someone who was waiting on some stranger to sweep her off her feet.

the idea of confessing to her did strike my mind, but i decided to avoid it. part of me was relieved that she was stepping out of the door, maybe it was time to focus on myself.

after a few more seconds, she walked out and slammed the door behind her.

sixty seconds. that’s how long it took to completely destroy our friendship. it all happened so fast, the gravity of the situation didn’t hit me until well after she left.

the only evidence that she had been there was the smudged mascara and tear drops that she left on my t-shirt.

all i wanted was my happy ending. i wanted her to look at me with the same loving look that i gave her. i wanted her to see me as something other than her pillow to dirty up and cry on. i wanted to know what it felt like to be loved by her.

i wanted her. i loved her.

i think she knew that deep down, she was just too scared to say anything.

maybe it was better this way, for both of us. people come and go, and that’s normal. that’s just the way life goes.

🌟🌟🌟🌟

i feel like this is terrible 😭

tag list: @imwetforyourmom

[kayentokk]

Everything.

— Pairing; Izuku Midoriya x GN! Reader

— Synopsis; What’s wrong with me?

— Contains; angst to comfort, fluff 

— wc; 1062

— A/N; Idek where I pulled this from? Legit just sobbed, like what???

He’s been like this all week, the normal soft toothy smile that always graced his freckled face was just not there. He’s hard on himself, but never this hard. You’ve never seen him this down. He’s always happy, or always cheering people up. That’s why it’s so off putting, you don’t know what to do in this situation because it’s never happened before. 

You can’t even fathom what you think it is. He’s been doing good at hero work, and everyone loves him. He creates as minimal damage as he can when he’s working, and other than the usual absurd comments about what he “could’ve done better” you haven’t found anything that could have caused him to act this way. It’s so bad, even Bakugo has laid off on his usual snappy behavior and the snarky comments. 

Whats weird though is how Izuku acts like everything’s fine, if you didn’t know him you’d think he was just a very chill person. He comes home, treats you the same, does the things he normally does at home, but it’s different. You even asked him what was wrong and he shook it off, with a not so reassuring smile, telling you “nothings wrong,” and that he’s “just tired.” 

Despite telling you that, even he knows he’s different. Honestly, he doesn’t even know what it is, something’s just wrong. He can tell everyone notices, but he just doesn’t know how to fix it. God, why can’t he just fix it? He doesn’t even know how to describe it, it’s like he’s just heavy. 

Even when he tries to smile or laugh, it’s not the same. He feels the corners of his lips lift, and his gums rubbing up his teeth, he hears the small chuckle his throat makes, but he can’t help to feel like it’s fabricated. 

With work it feels like he’s just going through assignment after assignment, doing them without a problem at all. If there wasn’t a problem though, then why did he feel this way?

You knew though, from your own past experience, that holding things in never helps. Eventually, it all just bubbles over and erupts like a volcano out of no where. That’s what you’ve been trying to avoid, you don’t want him to erupt because all he’ll do is feel bad about it later. It seems like that’s what it’s going to come down to though, because you can get anything out of him. You’ve tried everything, talking to him, comforting him, anything, and nothing worked. 

Today in particular though, Izuku felt he couldn’t do anything right. He already ran into multiple encounters today where people were upset due to the way he “handled” things, he was up to his neck in paperwork, and he was exhausted. None of this is out of the normal though, but he enjoyed it before. Minus the complaints, he loved his job but now it seems like a task or a chore. He didn’t know what to do anymore, he just wanted to go home, to you.  

When he arrived however, you were set on getting him to talk to you. As soon as he walked through the door you were waiting. The stone cold eyes and arch of your eyebrows gave you the look of determination. 

You marched up to him and immediately began trying to pry something, anything out of him. You began talking about holding things in, but he couldn’t even grasp what you were saying. He was watching your mouth and facial features move in slow motion. It was as if he was there watching himself listen to you talk, but he couldn’t actually hear you, and he wasn’t actually there. 

All he could think about was, you. The one person, one, he didn’t want to be upset with him. Was that too much to ask? 

 Apparently, it was. 

As soon as you finished the last word, seeing as he wasn’t responding, your heart dropped to your stomach. Looking into the battered, worn down, emerald eyes of the hero standing in front of you. You could see the water filling them as his body began shaking. 

You were taken back, and before you could get your arms around him, he collapsed. Into a sobbing mess on the floor. 

The volcano had erupted. 

He wailed unintelligible, broken cries of, “I’m sorry,” “have I done something to offend you too?” And the one that broke you the most, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You crouch down to the ball he’s reduced himself to on the floor and hold him so tight in your arms, his knees weakened causing his body to go limp on yours. His head rests in the crook of your neck tears steady falling and dampening the shirt you have on, his shoulders shaking and stuttering up and down, and his breaths were shattered almost. 

You ran a soothing hand up and down his back whispering calming nothings of, “shhh,” and “it’s okay, let it out baby.”  

There on the floor of your entryway, in the calm boundaries of your arms Izuku feels, okay. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders, of what he doesn’t know, and he just lets go. Sobs and sobs until there’s nothing left to come out. 

When he’s done, he falls silent. His body still limp, until he lifts his arms and returns your embrace. It feels so warm, and so comforting. Something he hasn’t felt the past week. He quickly tightens his hold, and sniffles shifting his his face almost deeper into your neck, if that’s even possible. 

You just sit there, in the silence, enveloped into each other. Until he finally speaks, well tries to anyway. The wails he let out had cracked his voice, and made him rather parched.

“Let me get you some water baby,” you say in a hushed tone. So softly as to not break him, again. 

You try to get up, but he grabs onto you tighter. His fingers pull at the flimsy material of the shirt, and you relax back into his hold. 

“Don’t go,” he croaks desperately.

“I won’t, I won’t, promise.”

To you, it seemed, this was all you could offer him. This poor excuse for comfort, you thought, was all you were giving him. To him though, it was so much more. 

It was everything. 

@\danowh0re for the divider

[adrealucia]

hi guys I am so sorry for not posting much lately, but I just have to let you know that I am mentally and physically struggling a lot in the last few weeks. I came here to tell at least someone about what is going on in my life. mentally I am already not the most stable person, but I am going to therapy and even though I feel fine some days, most days I don't. a few months ago I had to take a huge break from Tumblr, because of my mental health and when it got worse I came back here again... yea confusing idek. Anyway, I am 20 years old and I live in Germany, where it is pretty standard to be working at this age and let's say be fully standing on your own two feet. I don't. I haven't been going to school or work in almost 3 years I think, because of a major accident I had back in 2021. Before this accident happened (which I still haven't fully recovered from, but mostly mentally I think) I used to work, even though I was partying and living my life. nowadays i don't go out a lot and if i do its very exhausting for me. my anxiety has never been higher and even thinking about finding a job makes me cry. I applied for a school, because i would much rather go to school and educate myself a little more than to be working. i got declined a few days ago, which now means i need to find myself some work. I don't know why it is so hard for me to make the first step, i don't know why i cannot just go and get a job. my mental health and my panic attacks just make it really hard for me. so even though i love writing and reading stories I just came here to tell you guys that i am very sorry for not posting much (even though i know you will probably be fine without my writing haha) but still, i see how many of you guys enjoy my writing and i am just so sad that i cannot bring myself to post as often as i used to. my dream is it that one day in the future i can become a writer or someone who openly (let it be on youtube or tiktok idk) talks about their love for books. I am trying to chase my dreams even though most of them are not very realistic and i know how much mental health can hold you back. I am mad, not at myself, but at the things and people that made me so anxious. i am working on myself and I am trying my very best to become the person who will achieve all of their dreams. so I just came on here to tell you that I see all of your requests and comments, but I might not have the strength to answer all of them if any of them at the moment. i hope you understand :) <3 still, I love every single one of you who supports my little stories!

[call-me-chips]

Long vent warning 🙃

So if you came here for my typical carefree content, don't feel forced to read this at all :)

Ik I won't care if you do or don't, but I just need to get this to someone

I see a lot of people talking about having no friends and having bad friends, and both are really bad and I'm not trying to put down anyone's experiences, but I feel like there's a different kind of hurt when your friends just don't like you. Like, they're good people, but they just don't like you.

Like, I have this one friend (J) where, he's the closest thing I have to a best friend (aka, we see each other once a week and seem to enjoy each other's company), but I really don't think J likes me

He always has an excuse for not hanging out. Always. My sibling and I wanted to go to a comic con and invited J and his girlfriend, K. He mentioned a few weeks before that he might not be able to go because he might have to babysit a child or something. Closer to the con, J said that he, infact, wouldn't have to watch the child, which we were happy about, but then immediately he said that he "wasn't allowed" to go to this con. The reason he gave was "My dad thinks comic cons are cults." Even though J's been to several cons, one of which was in the US (We're Canadian).

And just yesterday a group I was going to had a Halloween night, and J promised he would go. We all made plans to be there, but the night of, I texted him and asked him if he was coming, to which he responded with "I'm not allowed", even though he's at the age where that shouldn't matter at all

I asked him why, and he never got back.

Everything I want to do, everything we try to plan, he's got a reason to not go.

He says he likes me and likes hanging out with me, but I don't believe it. Every excuse he uses is bullshit.

And it really sucks because I truly thought he'd be a friend that sticks around. Every friend I've ever had has left the moment I got too close.

And it's not like I can easily make friends, as I've never gone to school and I'm not in college

My parents keep scolding me about how I have no friends and that "God designed people to need other people" and that I "can't live life alone", but I don't know how the fuck they just expect me to summon new ones.

I've exhausted all groups I'm in of potential friends. And it's not like I don't try to make friends. I've been rejected dozens of times

But I know I'm just about ready to stop reaching out to J. I'll just stop asking if he wants to do anything and see if he initiates anything. When he doesn't, at least I'll know for sure that he doesn't really like me xD

Slightly different topic, but I really feel like I can't ever open up to anyone (which is why I rant to strangers on the internet). Literally everyone I've opened up to has either left me or betrayed me with it

I shared my struggles with a licensed therapist, and she made me feel like my feelings were nothing. She told me it was a phase and refused to hear any more

I shared one of my phobias in a trusted friend group chat, and one of the dudes (W) sent me a gif of it, have me the worst panic attack I've ever had, and then W called me sensitive when I complained about what he did (I was crying non stop for 30 mins, couldn't calm down completely for the next couple days, and got triggered my a simple household item that has NEVER triggered me before. I mean like, I saw this simple thing, froze in place, started hyperventilating, and nearly had another panic attack)

And there are a few other examples, but the worst one is when I opened up to my best friend at the time (N). I opened up, shared my story, cried in front of her. She left me the following week. N suddenly started talking to her other friend more and I could barely get a moment alone with her anymore. We barely talk now

I'm just tired of people. Tired of trying. Idek what I'm supposed to do at this point. I only rant to strangers cuz it's a lot less painful if someone online unfollows you than if a friend leaves you

Anyway I think that's enough for right now, I got pretty carried away 😅

If you read all this, here's a cookie :3 🍪

[unlimitedhearts]

I’m dreading the third game of Spiderman might kill off Harry :/ either he’s goblin (solo or probably along with daddy-o) and dies a la Hero Sacrifice. Or kept comatose and in the end with grim results the decision is to pull the plug on him. idk I feel Harry’s fate is doom and gloom. But they could have killed Harry at the end of this sequel giving a strong motivation for Norman to be the Goblin and hatred for Spider-Man…yet they didn’t. idk rambling thoughts. What do you think?

Personally i can see both options. I saw someone in the tags of my last headcanon post say that it wouldnt make sense to save him from death in this game only to kill him in the next. On some level i get that, why wait when you could do it now?

I have two worst case scenarios in my head:

Harry wakes up from his coma w amnesia a la the third Tobey Maguire movie. Hes unaware of Pete being Spider-Man and Peter, thinking hes protecting Harry, wont tell him. This may cause a rift in their friendship when Harry finds out - or if Norman ends up going goblin and dies - Spider-Man is to blame in Harrys eyes and he'll go after him then. To me this is a tired trope of Harry getting an intense hatred for Spidey and wanting to kill him over his father. It always felt out of character for me and i truly TRULY hope they dont go this route.

Harry becomes the Kobold. In the comics, Kobold is essentially Harrys way of making the Green Goblin a good guy. If he still wants to fight by Peters side, he'll find a way to do it. Kobold would make a lot of sense to me personally, as it kind of continues their dynamic from this game. Then at the end theres a heros sacrifice to be made and Harry goes for it despite Peters protests. This would be lazy to me too though because he essential already did the heros sacrifice in this game. Seems like theyd just want us to have more time with him to love him even more, just to make losing him hurt worse. I wouldn't put it past an intrepid writer to think they could make it work, but it just seems lazy to me.

Actual best case scenario for me though? Harry wakes up as the g-serum is being injected. Hes against being his dads experiment all over again so he runs and finds Peter. Hes not aware of his pseudo-retirement, he just goes straight to the place thats always been his safe haven; Peters home. He asks Peter to hide him from his dad. Tries to explain everything but hes exhausted and frantic. Peter agrees and they take him into hiding.

Norman, ever the expert deflector, doesnt see this as a failing on his part. Hes convinced spider-man had something to do with his son escaping so he puts out a hit on him. Hes ready, willing, and able to capture and kill at least one of the two spider-men it doesnt matter. We see him pardon Wilson Fisk for this job, and when Fisk cant do it, he has to. Normans going to go Goblin. I know it, i can feel it in my bones.

Miles asks Peter to get back in action and he does. Fisk, plus potentially Otto again, plus this brand new villain in town is too much for any one person to handle. Heres where i see Harry becoming a "Guy In The Chair" for Peter like Ganke is for Miles. Two Guys in the Chair helping the spider-men is definitely better than one. I could also see Harrys goblin powers start to emerge but he keeps pushing them down. Last time he gave into power it didnt end well for anyone.

In an effort to not write out the entire plot of the game as i see fit (because itd be long and there are so many moving pieces and characters and IDEK WHERE THEYRE GONNA PUT SILK IN-), i think if Harry does take on the cowl he'll be doing so against his father. I think i see Harry becoming Goblin/Kobold to fight against Norman and ultimately try to help Peter/Miles. This is where i see Harry either accidentally killing Norman or Norman killing his son (and of course, blaming Spider-Man)

There is also room, in my mind, to bring back Venom a la Lethal Protector/Agent Venom. But tbh if they do, i would much rather Venom go to Eddie Brock or Flash Thompson. But thats just the separate Venom Fangirl Entity within me.

Ultimately my hope of course is that Harry not die and they dont go down that all too tired and hackneyed trope of Harry growing to hate Peter dor whatever reason. I truly TRULY hope they dont go that route it is just SO tired and lazy. I want them to stay close and loving. Whatever route they go with will be SO MUCH MORE IMPACTFUL if Harry Osborn lives and doesnt make a full 180 on his best friend for no good reason.