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stevie-petey · 7 months

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episode six: the spy

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows. “Shit…” “You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.” Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.”

Summary: dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.

Rating: general, violence and swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence and swearing, blood mention and ptsd mention, weapons, fire, probably more

Words: 17.1k (i fear how much longer these next few chapters become)

Before you swing in: its here !!! god, this chapter was ROUGH. the conversations between bug and steve took many rewrites and editing. i wanted to get it just right, and finally i think im satisfied with where they landed. bug and steve aside, i absolutely loved writing this chapter with the kids. i sincerely hope you guys enjoy, this chapter took blood, sweat, n tears lmao

You’re the first to break the silence as you all stare at the hole Dart created in the wall in shock.

An obnoxiously loud yawn escapes your lips, and Dustin and Steve shoot you simultaneous weird glances. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry… It’s been a long day.”

Steve huffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Dustin clears his throat before standing up. He wipes off some dirt that got on his jeans and then offers you his hand so that he can pull you up as well. You accept it and stand, your bones a deep, weary type of heavy that only comes from pure exhaustion.

“Okay,” Dustin begins, and you can already see a plan forming in his mind. “Steve, you’ll spend the night here so that way we can all get up bright and early to start our search for Dart.”

Steve attempts to argue, but Dustin puts his hand up to shush him and continues with his speech. The older boy throws his hands up in the air and gives you a look of disbelief over your brother’s antics. You stifle a laugh, which he only rolls his eyes at. Steve, whether he likes it or not, will have to get used to Dustin’s… Dustin-ness.

“If he escaped through the tunnel, then we have to assume that there’s an opening somewhere above ground.” Dustin finishes.

You nod your head slowly, still unconvinced. “Okay, but how do we find him? Better yet, what happens when we do? It took Nancy with a shotgun, my knives, Steve’s batting skills, a ton of fire, and almost dying a bunch of times to take down the Demogorgon.”

Dustin lets out a tired sigh. “I’ll figure it all out, alright? For now, let’s just get some sleep. Maybe it’ll come to me in a dream or something.”

“A dream? Seriously?” Steve looks at the two of you as if you guys will start laughing and tell him it’s all a giant joke. Unfortunately, it isn’t.

Steve spent all last year and most of the summer getting to know you. He’s used to your quips and soft spoken teasing, but Dustin? He’s uncharted territory and you’re secretly relishing in seeing Steve fumble around him. You’ve never had anyone else interact with your brother before, only Jonathan, so this change is odd, but welcomed.

Dustin pays no attention to you and Steve as he begins heading up the steps, back to your home. Once he disappears, you nudge your shoulder against Steve’s. “You know you don’t actually have to spend the night, right?”

“Ya know, I can’t quite tell if the kid will let me leave or not.”

You laugh. “He’s harmless… Mostly. I promise I won’t let him bite, but I also understand if you want to leave.”

Steve looks away, sensing the undertones of what you’re saying. You’re giving him another out, one last chance to leave and go back to pretending like everything's okay. You wouldn’t blame him, and you get a sense of deja-vu from that night at Jonathan’s. When you tried coaxing Steve to leave, to spare himself from everything he inevitably ended up suffering from.

After a minute or so, Steve shakes his head. “I’ll stay. You need my help.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say need–”

“Shut up and let me help you, Y/N.”

You sigh. There’s no arguing with him, he’s made up his mind and your truce that you shook on ten minutes ago burns your hand. He’s staying.

“A ‘please’ would’ve sufficed, but fine.” You link your arm around Steve’s and make your way up the cellar steps. “C’mon, Dustin is probably waiting for us with some new insane plan for where you’ll sleep.”

–

You know that your mom is safe, off at the other side of town, searching for your dead cat, but it’s still lonely walking into your empty home. Dustin is standing in the living room waiting, but you can see that it makes him uneasy as well.

Steve follows behind you and takes a look around. When he spots the lumpy, old, sagging couch in front of the window, he frowns. It’s barely bigger than he is, his feet would definitely hang over the edge. “This my bed for tonight?”

“It’ll have to be, unless you want to come snuggle with me in my bed.” Dustin says.

“I wouldn’t, he kicks in his sleep,” you tell Steve, attempting to make light of the situation.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he snorts. Then, as if he’s done this a million times before, Steve flings himself onto your couch and his feet do indeed hang over the edge. “Oh, yeah. This will definitely be cozy.”

You wince. “I’m sorry, you’re still free to go home. I completely understand and–”

“Unless…” Dustin begins to brighten up and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Pure horror washes over you; you know that look on his face. He’s scheming.

“Dustin, whatever is about to come out of your mouth–”

“Y/N has this giant bean bag in her room. Practically takes up the whole space, and, luckily for you, my new friend, it’s Steve-sized.”

Steve whips his head to face you, a curious look on his face. “You don’t say, Little Henderson?”

Both boys look at you, a matching glint of evil in their eyes, and you realize you’re trapped. When did they manage to sync up to make you miserable?

You weigh your options against your morals. On one hand, it’s your room and you and Steve are still warming back up to each other. However, on the other hand, Jonathan has spent countless nights on that bean bag himself.

Dustin’s right. Steve would fit perfectly.

Damn him.

You shuffle your feet, averting Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I guess you’d fit.”

“You guess? Steve, she’s had Jonathan sleep on that thing like a bajillion times.” Dustin waves his arms out, gleeful that he’s won. “In fact, I think our mom specifically bought it just for him.”

He now steps closer to Steve and eyes him up and down. “I’d bet money that you two are about the same size, so as I stated earlier: it’s Steve-sized.”

“I’m actually taller than him, so…” Steve mumbles to no one in particular, but quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. “And I’d finally be able to see Y/N Henderson’s room? Count me in.”

You blush furiously. He’s getting a kick out of all of this and he’s such a little shit, honestly. You’re not sure why the thought of having Steve Harrington in your room, eager to be in your room, makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks burn painfully.

Steve sees your blush and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“You’re far too pleased about all of this.”

“We can pretend to be back at Bookstrordinary. I’ll even stack some books that you definitely have in your room.”

Dustin stands between you and Steve, his face alight with joy and curiosity. “Can I please know when you two became best friends?”

“No, you hid Dart from me.”

“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Steve clears his throat, clearly amused by your banter with Dustin but still unsure about everything going on. “So… What do ya say, Y/N?”

You bite your lip and look at him. He’s pathetically too large for the couch, it wouldn’t be fair to just force him to sleep there because of the weird way he makes you feel as if you’re floating yet falling all at the same time.

Exhaling, you give in. “Fine, but do not touch any of my books in the room.”

“Yes!” Steve high fives Dustin and you roll your eyes at them both.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It’s late, can we please just go to bed now?”

Dustin sends you a wink, which thankfully Steve doesn’t see. “Sure, sis. Have a good night.”

And with that, probably because he senses you’re about to throw a shoe at him, Dustin flees the living room and runs to his room. As soon as he’s gone, Steve bats his eyelashes at you and playfully teases, “Take me to bed, Y/N.”

You snort, despite how exhausted you are. “Never say those words to me again.”

He laughs and stands up, following behind you as you guide him towards your own room. A part of you feels like you should give him a house tour, but logistically it’d be useless. You can’t imagine that Steve would be over at your house again once the Dart situation is handled.

You have to remind yourself that there are still roses for Nancy, currently wilting, in the backseat of Steve’s car.

They’ll work things out eventually, or maybe they won’t, but Nancy Wheeler still has Steve Harrington’s heart. He is her’s entirely.

Lost in thought, you almost miss the turn to your room and have to grab the back of Steve’s jacket and yank him towards your bedroom door.

“Hey–”

“Sorry, my room is here.”

“You Hendersons are just a delightful bunch, ya know that?”

“Be thankful you don’t have to meet our mother, honestly.” You fling your bedroom door open and gently push Steve inside.

As soon as he’s in your room, you watch as he takes it all in. His eyes scan every corner of the room, and you hold your breath as you wait for them to land on the Spider-Man poster he gave you for Christmas last year.

When Steve sees it, he smiles shyly at you. “I see you kept the gift.”

“Duh,” you walk over to your bed and sit down. “Still one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given.”

“One of?” He asks, tone light but curious.

Unconsciously, your fingers go to your bee necklace from Jonathan. You play with the pendant and smile softly. “Sorry, Jonathan kinda beat you to it.”

“I figured,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable. “I noticed the necklace the day I gave you the poster. Didn’t want to, uh, assume. I guess. But the necklace was from him?”

“It was,” you clear your throat, talking about Jonathan with Steve has always been such a foreign feeling for you.

Steve seems to be thinking the same thing and starts to wander around your room instead. You silently thank whatever god is up there for giving you the motivation to clean your room earlier that week. Normally you’re a neat person, but ever since Will started showing signs of post-traumatic stress, you’ve spent more time obsessively researching rather than tidying up.

Therefore, there’s still books strewn across your desk alongside some comics. Steve sees a Spidey one and holds it up with a laugh. “He’s everywhere.”

“He is.” You say proudly, now getting up to go into your closet to pull out the blankets and pillows usually reserved for Jonathan.

Steve wanders around some more as you dig through your closet. He lingers in front of your dresser, which holds photos of you, Dustin, and Jonathan.

“Here,” you hand the bedding to Steve and motion to where the bean bag is.

He looks up from a photo of you and Jonathan from last year. It’s your favorite of the two of you, he stands behind you in the picture with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. You’re both smiling widely at the camera, the moment captured by Will because he wanted to try out the camera Jonathan had gotten that summer.

“You guys are really close, huh?” Steve asks.

You nod, although confused by his question. He spent half the summer with you and Jonathan at your job. You had conversations about your friendship together, but you suppose it’s different seeing the excess of love you have for the boy within your room. Jonathan is everywhere, if you look hard enough, you’ll find him.

Steve pauses for a second, as if he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and turns towards the bean bag. He arranges the pillows so that they’re flush against the wall facing your bed, which you think is an odd choice, but say nothing. Once he’s arranged the pillows and blankets, Steve turns to you and clears his throat.

“I hate to ask this, I really do, but I also don’t want to sleep in these jeans,” he waves his hands over his pants, which have always been a bit tighter than you thought was necessary. “Any chance I could wear something of Jonathan’s?”

You think for a moment and dig through your dresser. “I’m not sure, but if I can’t find anything of his then I think my old camp t-shirt can fit. As for pants, won’t your boxers work fine?”

Steve’s face turns red and he clears his throat once more, speaking in a slightly squeaky voice, “Y–yeah, I guess so.”

He’s stumbling over his words, which makes you pause. There’s no possible way that he’s nervous right now. He’s usually so confident and comfortable around you. Hell, last summer he offered to be your first kiss (by kissing his fingers and pressing them against your lips, but still).

“Are you shy right now, Steve?”

“What? No!” He scrambles to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between the two of you as he can.

You raise your eyebrows at him, but your cheeks are flushed as well. “Okay then, whatever you say.”

It’s painfully quiet after that as you continue looking for something for Steve to wear. You swear that Jonathan has left behind some of his things, and right before you lose hope, you spot a pair of gray sweats and an old The Clash t-shirt of his.

“Here,” you toss the clothes to Steve without even checking if he’s looking. You hear a crash and know that he, in fact, had not been looking.

“Gee, thanks.” He says sarcastically, but you giggle.

“No problem,” you begin to gather your own pajamas before pointing towards your door. “There’s a bathroom to the left, down the hall. You can change there.”

“Then our sleepover can commence?”

You wave him off, but you smile anyway at his question. You missed his boyish charms. “Sure, buddy. Go change.”

Steve salutes you and then leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him. You change while he’s gone and tie your hair up. After a few minutes, you assume Steve has had enough time to change and make your way over to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’re so excited to go to bed.

However, the door is closed when you approach, meaning Steve is still changing. You knock on the door, “Are you almost done in there?”

“I’m having… problems.”

Your hand hovers over the door, mid knock. “Problems?”

There’s only silence for a moment, almost as if Steve is contemplating elaborating. Finally, after several seconds, he says “I’m definitely taller than Byers.”

You roll your eyes and begin knocking again, just to annoy Steve, until he finally swings the door open. Before you can even stop it, a loud laugh escapes you. The sweats are at least five inches too short on him, while Jonathan’s shirt is a size too small. He looks absolutely ridiculous.

“It’s not funny!” Steve whines, his face once again red. “I thought you gave me Jonathan’s clothes, Y/N!”

More laughter escapes you, making your ribs begin to hurt. Every time you try to speak, you laugh even harder, and it’s impossible for you to get any words out. Steve watches, not amused in the slightest, and crosses his arms as if to appear more dignified.

“I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, more laughs threatening to spill from you. “I guess they’re clothes from when he was fourteen.”

“I’m reconsidering our truce from earlier.”

This gets you to stop laughing, and you gasp and smack Steve’s chest. “You wouldn’t dare!”

He sighs, hanging his head low. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Exactly,” his admission makes you giddy. “Now, either make yourself cozy in the bean bag or watch as I brush my teeth. Your choice.”

Steve shrugs and steps to the side so that there’s room for you to enter the bathroom. It’s a tight fit, but he ends up sitting on the edge of the tub and just watches as you begin the process of brushing your teeth. “I didn’t actually think you’d stay, ya know.”

“I know, but I’m bored and you’re here.”

You spit into the sink. “Fair, I guess.”

“Plus,” he picks at his nails, trying to look disinterested while wearing Jonathan’s too small clothes. “We still need to have that talk.”

You pause, toothbrush hanging from your lips as you stare at Steve, wide eyed, in the mirror. Honestly, you were hoping he would’ve forgotten about that. It’s not that you don’t want to know whatever he has to tell you, but you’re tired and still reeling over the fact that he’s spending the entire night in your room.

“Oh, right.” Turning the faucet off, you finish brushing your teeth and awkwardly wipe your face. Steve watches quietly, and once you’re done, you motion for him to follow you back towards your room.

As soon as you’re back in your room, Steve immediately curls himself upon the bean bag and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin. Dustin, as always, is right: the bean bag truly is Steve-sized. “Cozy.”

You laugh at him as you crawl into your own bed. “Yeah, I’d hope so. Jonathan has slept in it for years now.”

“Well, uh. Speaking of Jonathan…” Steve sits up a bit so that he can properly look at you. “I wanted to talk. Ya know… About you and him. Nancy, too.”

He pauses, furrows his brows, and then adds. “Actually, I want to talk about what really happened this summer. Everything. I want to know everything.”

“Everything is a lot,” you dodge, turning away from the boy.

Steve sighs. “Y/N… I missed you.”

Missed.

“I want to be friends again, be how we were before, but… I don’t know. There was a lot unsaid between us. Even from the start. I mean, I understand. I do.” His eyes never leave yours, despite how much you try not to look back at him. “You’re, well–If we’re going to be friends again, I want to start from the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

Now Steve is the one who looks away. “I don’t know, it’s stupid, I guess–”

“It’s not stupid, Steve.” You reassure him. He’s trying, he’s inviting you in after everything you did to him, and it’s all you could’ve asked for.

But you’re fucking terrified.

You and Steve became close before, sure, but it was something more surface level. An act between the two of you. While Steve was able to read you over time, learning and asking and paying attention to you, there was still so much you never let him in on. What you haven’t let anyone in on, besides Jonathan.

If you start from the beginning with Steve, someone you know has come to view you as this selfless and kind person, you’re scared that it’ll change the way he sees you.

But Steve is looking at you from the bean bag, looking ridiculously cozy with the blanket wrapped around him and his usually carefully curated hair has fallen in his eyes; his gaze is open and trusting. There isn’t a pressure behind it, he would understand if you backed down, but you promised him you’d try.

To try is to be human.

And you really, really missed Steve.

“I moved here when I was twelve. My family and I had moved all the way from Virginia after the divorce. I remember being really mean, back then. An angry kid with all this hurt within her that she perpetually displaced upon everyone else.”

“Angry?” Steve asks, his voice soft.

You shift uncomfortably in bed, but you remind yourself that you agreed to this. If you’re going to begin again with Steve, then he deserves to know the true person he’s befriending. “Angry. I didn’t take the divorce well. At all. I acted out a lot, closed myself off, and was just a fucking awful person.”

Shifting again, you take a deep breath. “My anger got to the point where Dustin, who was nine, had to practically plead with me to be nicer to him. He was a kid.”

“So were you,” Steve gently chimes in, but you roll your eyes at him.

“Being a kid didn’t give me an excuse to abandon my loved ones like I did. Like my father did. It wasn’t until Dustin called me out on my bullshit that I realized the irony of the situation. There I was, blaming everyone else for my own problems and running away, because I was so hurt by my father doing the same to me.”

Steve clenches his jaw, and you know he wants to say more, but you watch as he exhales deeply and decides against it. “Okay, so you were mean and then you became kind again after something traumatic… So what?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean,” the boy sighs. “I was a dick for like, ten consecutive years. It took losing a fight to Jonathan, embarrassing myself in front of Nancy at least five times, losing my bullshit ‘friends’ Tommy and Carol, and some blonde guy with a fucking mullet before I was even able to become a decent person.”

You frown. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that you came back.” Steve shrugs. “The second someone you loved asked you to, you came back to being the selfless angel that you are. Which, by the way, is an impressive feat in itself.”

He says this as if it’s obvious and that the months you spent hurting everyone around you can be redeemed. As if you haven’t spent every waking hour tirelessly devoting every piece of yourself to those around you to make up for them. To repent for your anger.

Steve takes your silence as more defiance, and he runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s merely a few feet from you, at the foot of your bed on the bean bag, and yet it feels as if he’s inches yet yards away. “I know I can’t change your mind, but… I think that’s what matters the most in the end, ya know? You became kind.”

“So did you,” you finally say, not quite ready to accept what he’s saying.

Now it’s Steve who looks away. “Still working on the whole ‘kind’ thing.”

“Isn’t that what matters in the end?” You tease, feeling yourself warm with pride when you get him to laugh.

“Touche.”

Silence falls over the two of you, letting the tension lazily slip away for now. Your body hums with energy; the only other person you’ve told about your father to is Jonathan. You both have long since bonded over shitty father figures. However, even when you had whispered these truths to Jonathan back when you were thirteen, you don’t remember feeling quite so raw and vulnerable as you do right now with Steve.

“I meant it, you know,” you catch Steve’s eye. “Back when you first drove me home last year. You’re alright. Not too shabby, honestly.”

This time a full body laugh cascades through the boy, He clutches at his stomach as he doubles over, breathless with joy. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Steve is still laughing and this is the happiest you think you’ve seen him in months. The realization makes all the warmth you’ve felt earlier, vanish. You remember the hurt on his face earlier this week on Halloween, the tears in his eyes when he confessed that Nancy didn’t love him.

You know how plagued Steve is about never being good enough, and for the first time since you’ve truly gotten to know him: you understand him in that very moment.

Your eye catches on Steve’s adam’s apple as he swallows. It’s a tragedy, really, how attractive he is. You suppose it’s what caused his downfall, in the end. A pretty boy, rich and popular yet easily able to be taken down; it must be a lonely life with all that vulnerability.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper, voice cutting through the darkness of your room as Steve seems to remember where he is, why and how the conversation started in the first place.

“Always,”

“I’m scared of the compulsive need I feel to take care of everyone. It’s like… I don’t know, this debt that I feel I owe for existing, for the fear I feel because of my father leaving. I overcompensate for this fear now, terrified I’ll become mean again.”

Steve stares at your ceiling. “The whole ‘debt’ thing, I understand. Believe me. Rather than being a perfect angel, however, I just try my fucking hardest not to disappoint everyone around me and make them leave.”

Nancy, as she always seems to do, lingers between you and Steve now; you both can feel her presence without him having to say her name. He told you what she did to him, you tried to reassure him that it hadn’t been his fault, but Steve isn’t an idiot.

Nancy never loved him. He knows this, now.

You don’t say anything, you don’t think he’d want you to. Giving him some time, you allow Steve a few minutes to collect his thoughts, sensing he has more to say. Then, softly, he whispers back to you, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always,” you echo.

“I just want to be loved.”

With just one confession, a string of six words in succession, Steve Harrington crushes you.

The words come crashing upon your chest and you wish you could tell him how easily you see yourself falling for him. How, even if you can’t admit it just yet, you’re already falling for him. You think you have been for some time now.

Somewhere, in between him driving you home last year and the way the summer sun kissed his face months later, you began to fall in love with him.

While you’re thinking this, Steve is laying in the bean bag, absolutely terrified of the words that have come out of his mouth. He’s always had the fear, deep down, that he was unlovable, but to admit the fear out loud… He’s never felt so weak before.

You’re silent and Steve thinks he’s finally done it. His pathetic need to be liked and loved by everyone around him has finally scared you away. How couldn’t it scare you away? You so naturally are loved by everyone while Steve compulsively demands it because he’s still that scared ten year old boy with a father who never showed him love.

Then, because you’re an angel, you give Steve the response he hadn’t even known he needed to hear. “It’s natural to want to be loved. We all do. It’s human.”

He exhales at your words, still staring at the ceiling as if to somehow lessen the impact of what you’re telling him. There’s something there, hanging in the air after your words have disappeared, that Steve can’t quite understand.

It almost sounded like you were trying to reassure yourself, as well.

“What’s the deal with you and Jonathan?” Though Steve’s voice is steady, you can tell that he’s trying not to sound too interested.

The question is a simple one, but it’s the hardest question you’ve ever had to answer. Everyone asks you, sooner or later, if you and Jonathan are together. You never blame them for asking, because ultimately the two of you are closer than the average friends, regardless of gender.

It doesn’t make the question any less painful to answer, though. It doesn’t make hearing Jonathan’s laugh cut any less deeper.

As for Steve, he’s asked this question before, albeit with teasing and disbelief whenever you’ve told him there’s nothing there. Despite the numerous times you’ve corrected him, he’s never quite believed you.

This time, it feels different. There’s a weight behind Steve’s question, and your silence is all the answer that he needs. “You love him.”

The words aren’t a question, and they harbor no malice. He says them as if they are a fact; you suppose that it is. You don’t say anything, but you do nod your head at him. “I do… I think I’ve always loved him, honestly.”

You’ve never, ever said those words out loud. Not to anyone.

And now, you’re confessing them to Steve, who doesn’t have to ask you why your voice now holds melancholy within it. He knows, he’s always somehow known. Jonathan doesn’t love you, a fact in which Steve has never been able to wrap his head around. He’s watched the two of you for years, how easily you love one another, and yet somehow the love never blossomed into something more.

Everything stills between you and Steve, allowing both your confessions to surround the two of you. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s apology only causes you to shrug. “He’s still mine, at least for now. Is that so bad?”

“I mean, I guess not, but… Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

“God,” you squeeze your eyes shut, finally able to voice all you’ve been feeling to someone who can understand. “It feels like this crushing weight upon me every time I see him smile, like it’s a burden, carrying all this love within me without being able to express it freely. I just… I never thought that love could be so exhausting. ”

As the words start to come out, you find that you’re unable to stop. “I grew up with Jonathan, I learned the way he breathes and the way his hands feel pressed against my skin, but so much has changed and…” Your breath hitches. “He’s not someone I reach out to first anymore. It almost feels like I can’t. I love him, I do, but I also miss how it used to be before I realized everything.”

The pressure of tears builds behind your eyes and forces you to stop talking. If you say anything else, you’re afraid you’ll start crying. While Steve has been so lovely tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to console you so pathetically.

Steve seems to hear the tears lacing your voice and speaks for you, having finally pieced together everything he’s been unable to articulate since November of last year. “With Nance, it feels like I’m always somehow two steps behind her and her feelings. Constantly playing catch up while the rules keep changing on me… I get the whole ‘love is exhausting’ thing.”

Though you know Steve means well, his words fucking terrify you. If he feels the same way towards Nancy, a girl who never ended up loving him despite how much he poured his heart out for her, what does that mean for you and Jonathan?

For the first time, you question if the exhaustion you feel surrounding your love for the boy is really something else. Something different, disguised as exhaustion.

You wonder, deep down, if you’ve started to fall out of love with Jonathan.

Who are you if you have?

The boy has become so intertwined within your life, the threads and strings and lines have tied you to him indefinitely. He’s the reason behind your everything. If you no longer love Jonathan, then who are you, really?

The realization washes over you like cold rain in the middle of winter. It spills over you and pricks at your skin and you suddenly want the conversation to end. While you’re so relieved to be talking to Steve again, the conversation has left you with more realizations than resolutions.

“It’s late,” you fake a yawn, desperate to cut the conversation short. “We should go to bed. Knowing Dustin, he’ll have us up at the crack of dawn to start looking for Dart.”

Steve sees right through you, he knows he’s somehow crossed a line and that you’re once again retreating. You’re closing yourself off from him again, but he’ll take whatever he can get from you. You’ve told him more than he ever thought you would, so for now he’ll play along.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says, watching as you reach for your lamp and turn the light off. Then, as soon as you’ve rolled over and closed your eyes, you faintly hear his final words. “Don’t we make a pathetic pair?”

You remember, before drifting off to sleep, feeling relief wash over you that Steve once again considers the two of you a pair.

–

You wake up the next morning to the faint sounds of Dustin getting ready. His shower can be heard from your room, and through the years it's become your morning alarm. Yawning, you roll over and rub your eyes and take a few minutes to let your brain wake up.

Bits of yesterday’s events come back to you.

Dustin confessing about Dart.

Locking the Demodog in your cellar.

Radioing everyone in the party for help and getting no response.

Going to the Wheelers for Mike and coming back with Steve.

Dart going missing.

And, most importantly, your bizarre conversation with Steve last night.

The boy in question lets out a loud snore from the bean bag, blankets haphazardly twisted around his legs, and you stifle a laugh. Even in his sleep, Steve Harrington somehow catches all the attention in the room.

You throw your blanket off and get out of bed, tiptoeing so as to not wake up the sleeping beauty, and head outside to your kitchen. If yesterday was any indication of how long today will be, then you need all the coffee in the world to get through it.

The coffee has just finished brewing when you hear Steve stumble into the kitchen. His eyes are bleary and his hair is the worst it’s ever looked. “I guess even Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington can’t escape bed head, huh?”

Steve acknowledges your quip only by grunting, still stumbling around through your home. So he isn’t a morning person, you think with a smile while bringing your coffee mug to your lips and taking a careful sip.

Eventually Steve makes it to your kitchen table and plops down, letting out a loud yawn and smacking his lips. He looks pathetically endearing, really, especially given his outfit that looks even worse after sleeping in it. The shirt has ridden further up, exposing a bit of his stomach (which you divert your gaze from, feeling yourself blush), and one of his too-short pant legs has ridden up to his knee.

“You really are a natural beauty in the morning, Steve.”

“Ha,” he says boredly, looking around the kitchen. “Do you guys have any food? I’m starving.”

You toss him an apple from the fruit basket on the counter, and Steve only just manages to catch it in time to avoid it hitting his face.

“Christ!” He exclaims, glaring at you when you chuckle at his reaction. Maybe it was a little mean, but you see the small smile he tries to hide.

“Is this all I get? An apple thrown at my face?”

You walk over to the table and set your mug down. “Were you expecting a home cooked meal?”

“You’ll have to earn a Y/N Henderson breakfast,” Dustin says as he enters the kitchen and joins the two of you. His hair is still wet from his shower and he drips onto the counter, which makes you cringe. He’s such a boy, sometimes.

He makes his way over to the fridge and rustles around, looking for something to eat. Truthfully, the reason you threw the apple at Steve is because there’s no food in your house at the moment. Your mom normally goes to the grocery store on Saturdays, and in her frantic rush to find Mews she hadn't left any money for you to go to the store.

“There’s no food,” you inform your brother.

He sighs dejectedly, grabbing a banana and then plopping himself next to Steve at the table. “All right, are you two awake enough to discuss the plan?”

You nod immediately at Dustin’s question while Steve slumps further into his seat, groaning. You run a hand through his hair to try and settle down his theatrics. Dustin sees this and raises an eyebrow at you, but you shake your head and motion for him to keep quiet.

“So,” he takes a bite from his banana and begins speaking with his mouth full, which you make a face at. “I was thinking we lure Dart with bait to a secure area that we can catch him in.”

“Wait,” Steve sits up a bit in his seat, careful to not knock your hand off his head. “That’s all you got? That’s the entire plan?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he begins eating as well, his mouth also full and disgusting to look at, “Do you know how we’ll lure him? Or where? Better yet, how will we even catch him?”

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Okay, so it’s a working idea. You got anything better?”

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He pauses for a second before seemingly drawing a blank and closing his mouth; he sinks back into his seat in defeat.

“That’s what I thought.” Dustin says smugly.

You take another sip of coffee, enjoying the mug’s warmth around your fingers. “Well, we at least know what Dart likes to eat.”

“We do?” Steve questions, looking up at you.

“Oh, just wait until you hear this,” you motion over to Dustin. “Go on, tell Steve what you’ve been feeding Dart.”

Now it’s your brother’s turn to sink into his seat, embarrassed. He mumbles something that Steve can’t quite hear.

“What?”

He mumbles again, only a tiny bit louder this time.

“Little Henderson, I can’t understand you.” Steve says, smirking when he feels you laugh against him.

“I said he eats Musketeers Bars!” Dustin shouts, now incredibly defensive.

In sync, you and Steve share a look. While you have an exasperated fondness on your face, Steve looks like he’s questioning every choice he’s made in his life. It’s cute that he thinks this is the weirdest things will get.

“Okay…” Steve looks over at your brother. “Unless you plan on buying out an entire candy store, we need something else for bait.”

In the corner of your eye you see Mews’ cat bed laying against the window, and an idea pops into your head. “Dustin, did Dart only eat the candy bars before he killed our cat?”

“Yeah, why?”

As you walk over to the kitchen sink to place your mug in it, you begin explaining. “Then clearly he’s outgrown his sugar needs and would probably eat just about anything with flesh on it.”

Steve wrinkles his face with displeasure, not enjoying the thought of going after this monster that craves meat. He’s already done that, and call him crazy, but he really doesn’t want to experience anything like that ever again.

Dustin’s eyes light up, following along with what you’re saying. “Raw meat! You’re a genius, Y/N!”

“And then we can follow the train tracks to that old junkyard, the one that El brought you guys to last year. It’s a straight shot, Dart won’t get lost, and then we catch him.”

Dustin squeals. “That’s perfect!”

He stands up to hug you, which you gladly accept. “Yeah, yeah. We Hendersons are known for our genius,” you gently push your brother away and start exiting the kitchen. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. Steve, you’ll take Dustin to the butcher and see if you can haggle some raw meat out of him.”

“Uh… can I change first?” He asks, running a hand through his hair with displeasure.

Only now does Dustin notice Steve’s appearance and he lets out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think you look great!”

You shoot your brother a warning look, not wanting to upset Steve too much. He’s the only one with a car, and the party still hasn’t responded to Dustin’s calls, so he’s all you have right now. Plus, after last night’s conversation, you’re sure he’s feeling just as wound up and tense as you are.

“We can swing by your place on our way to the train tracks. Your house is right next to it, anyways, and Dustin and I can scout the parameters while you shower and get yourself all pretty. For now, just go to the butcher's shop, please.”

“But–”

“Please, Steve?” You pout, daring him to argue with you again. Steve is only able to stand his ground for about five seconds before he groans and nods his head.

“Fine–” You quickly hug him before running towards the bathroom to get ready.

Once you’re gone, Steve searches for his keys while Dustin stands in the kitchen, shocked. “I so need to know when you two became such good pals.”

“Go wait by the car, Little Henderson.” Steve waves him off, though he’s secretly pleased with how the morning is turning out so far.

–

“C’mon, man. It’s just chunks of raw meat, it doesn’t even matter what, uh, body parts they are, I guess.” Steve argues with the butcher, having no idea why you’ve sent him on this journey with Dustin. Neither of them have any idea about butchers and meat, so they’ve been arguing back and forth for a solid ten minutes with the guy.

“And I already told you, it’ll be $15. Take it or leave it, pretty boy.” Pat, the butcher, says.

Steve scowles at the name, “That’s insane for five pounds, you realize that? It’s just a bunch of meat chunks from god knows where, it’s not like we want prime rib you dirty sack of–”

Dustin cuts him off, snatching the boy’s wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a twenty. “Ignore him, please! Here, thank you so much for your lovely service, good sir.”

Pat narrows his eyes at the boy, and for a split second Dustin is afraid that he’s trying to figure out the best way to skin them alive, before he simply grunts and takes the money.

Relief washes over Dustin and he scrambles to grab the bags of meat, tugging at Steve’s sleeve in urgence until he gives in and begins to help as well. Within a few seconds, they’ve gathered all they need and head towards the car.

“Keep the change!” Dustin calls out behind him.

As soon as they’re in the car, he yells at Steve to step on it. It’s already been twenty minutes since they left the house, and he knows from experience to never keep you waiting.

“Okay, okay, god.” Steve complies, pushing down on the gas and speeding away from the butcher’s shop.

The smell of raw meat immediately infiltrates the car, so Steve rolls down the windows and sighs. This is definitely not the weekend he had in mind. He thought he’d apologize to Nancy, kiss and hopefully make up, and maybe even swing by your place to tell you the good news.

Instead, he has buckets of raw meat in his car and his head is swimming from his conversation with you from last night. While he’s happy it happened, there’s still so much Steve feels like you aren’t telling him. To top it all off, he hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed, but rather a bean bag that Jonathan apparently has slept in a million times before.

As Steve is moping, he realizes that there actually wasn’t even a real need to spend the night.

“Hey, Little Henderson,” Steve gently hits Dustin’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why did I have to spend the night at your place?”

“Oh, you didn’t.” Dustin says as if it’s no big deal.

Steve turns his head towards him, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually spend the night if we’re being honest. I just thought it’d be funny to mess with you.”

“I tried arguing with you, but you shushed me!” Steve exclaims, putting both hands back on the steering wheel aggressively.

The younger boy shrugs, “What are you, seventeen? Eighteen? Why would you listen to a thirteen year old?”

“Well, I–” As much as he wants to, Steve really can’t defend himself on this one. Shit. It’s not like he can tell Dustin that he mostly stayed because his sister is pretty and makes him feel safe.

Dustin smiles, happy to have won the conversation at hand, and decides to really rub it in as they pull up to the house. “I also thought it’d be hilarious to pair you up with my sister. Hope you two made smart choices last night.”

And with those words, Dustin springs out the car, leaving a speechless Steve behind. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, completely at a loss for words. He’s only spent a total of sixteen hours with the kid, and already he knows he’s in for a world more of trouble.

If you’re Hawkins’ sweetheart, then Dustin is the town’s horribly terrifying weasel.

Meanwhile, you’ve just finished lacing up your shoes when Dustin walks in.

“Where are the rubber gloves that mom likes?” He asks in lieu of greeting you.

“In the closet, second shelf, next to her cat figurines. Where’s Steve?”

Dustin rustles around the closet and pulls out three sets of gloves, “In the car, moping.”

There’s a crash and then he tosses two buckets onto the carpet. You crouch down and grab the buckets, placing them on the table. “Why is he moping?”

“Why is who moping?” The man in question walks in, throwing himself on the couch and narrowly dodging the third bucket that Dustin throws out. “Why do you guys keep throwing shit at me, jesus!”

“Language! There’s kids around,” You snap your fingers at Steve, who quickly cowers in shame. “And if it makes any difference, the bucket wasn’t intentional. The rest were, though.”

Just as Dustin is finishing up in the closet, you spot a can of gasoline and an idea sparks in your head. If you learned anything at Jonathan’s house last year, it’s that these Demogorgon things really hate fire. “Hey, grab the gasoline as well.”

He does as he’s told, no questions asked, and then hands it to you. You add it to the pile on the table, along with two backpacks from your brother and your beloved switchblade.

Steve gets up from the couch to investigate your stash, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, guys. What are we going to put in the backpacks, though?”

Dustin goes into the kitchen and begins grabbing the few items within it. The remaining fruits in the basket, a few pieces of bread, a bag of chips, and some water bottles. “One bag will have our food, the other will have our weapons.”

And with that, you guys are all set to head out. While Dustin is distracted with grabbing his backpack, you run towards Steve’s car and throw yourself into the passenger seat. Every man for himself.

“What– Y/N!” He calls after you, but he’s too late. You’ve already buckled yourself up by the time he and Steve get into the car themselves.

“She beat ya, buddy.” Steve teases, flashing you a proud smile.

Dustin grumbles in the backseat, unamused, and for a moment you think he’ll leave it at that. However, because he’s Dustin, you see from the rearview mirror as his eyes spark with revenge. “So, Steve.”

The tone in his voice terrifies you.

You place your head in your hands and sigh, mentally preparing for whatever your brother is about to say.

“Yes, Dustin?”

“How long have you been friendly with my sister?”

“Dustin!” You whip your head around, lunging towards the back seat to swat at the boy, but he quickly scoots over to Steve’s side and avoids your hands.

Steve, however, surprises you by simply shrugging and taking the question in stride. There’s no embarrassment on his face, no ounce of hesitation in his voice. “About a year now.”

“A year?” Dustin exclaims, having completely not expected such a response. “Y/N, how could you keep this from me?”

“She didn’t hide anything from you, buddy.” Steve defends you, eyes focused on the road. “I convinced her to be my friend after I saved her life–”

“You saved her life?”

“And then bought you boys snacks at the hospital afterwards. Then, because I really wanted to be her friend, I basically stalked her at work every day and annoyed my way into her life. We’ve been pretty close ever since.”

Dustin’s jaw is practically on the ground after Steve’s quick explanation, left speechless for the first time in his life. As for you, you’re admiring the way the early morning sun causes Steve to glow. You’ll never be over how often his beauty distracts you; you wonder how Nancy, or really anyone, could deny him love.

If you didn’t know Steve, if you passed by him on the street one day as complete strangers, you’re sure that a part of you would fall in love with him.

Even with pieces of his hair standing all over the place, his shirt still being too small, he was a delicate kind of handsome that made you feel a certain warmth.

“Did I forget anything, Y/N?” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, and you quickly divert your eyes away from the way his arms look while holding the steering wheel.

“No, uh.” You clear your throat, still recovering. Steve seems to be in good spirits for once, it’s a breath of fresh air seeing him so content, and yet it also serves as a stark reminder that you made the right choice when you first distanced yourself from him. He’s just too easy to love. “I think you pretty much covered everything. Unless Dustin has any questions?”

“Give me three to five business days to process this, please.” Your brother mumbles from the backseat, which you and Steve laugh at.

The rest of the ride is relatively peaceful after that, and a few minutes later you arrive at Steve’s house. It’s different in the daylight, only ever having seen it late one night driving the boy home from the Halloween party.

It’s a beautiful home, the smell of chlorine fills your nose. The pool, you remember Nancy mentioning his pool when she explained what happened to Barb. You shiver, now aware that you’re in the same place that your friend took her last breaths at, just a year ago.

“The tracks are just over on the other side of the street, and I shouldn’t be too long, so you Hendersons can start figuring out the plan in the meantime.” Steve instructs you and Dustin, getting out of the car and entering his house.

Dustin begins getting out as well, so you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow. Thankfully you decided to wear jeans today with a simple tank top and cardigan with your knit socks; though it was late October, it’s unusually sunny outside and the walk from Steve’s to the junkyard was easily four to five miles.

The two of you walk over to the tracks and you survey the area. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure it’s best to look focused in case Dustin yells at you.

“We’ll need to go that way,” Dustin points in front of you, and you nod as you follow along. “We can drop the meat chunks every few sleepers so we don’t waste any of it.”

“Sleepers?”

“These.” Dustin’s shoe scrapes against the bottom wooden planks.

“You would know what they’re called.”

“Ha ha, any more quips or can I continue?”

You put your hands up in surrender and Dustin begins to speak again.

“Then once we get to the junkyard, we can dump whatever meat is left in a pile and put the gasoline on it. Once Dart is distracted and eating, we’ll light it on fire.” His words catch a bit at the end, and you suddenly feel bad for him. He clearly still cares about Dart, but you know your brother understands the risks of letting the Demodog live.

Without saying anything, you reach over and pull Dustin in for a hug. He fights it at first, but after a couple seconds he gives in and hugs you back. You aren’t the most affectionate pair of siblings, but you love your younger brother fiercely. Not for the first time, you wish you could’ve done more to prevent him from discovering the Upside Down.

You know it’s irrational to blame yourself and feel guilty, but maybe if you’d been more involved last year, then maybe he wouldn’t have so many nightmares.

“I’m sorry about Dart,” you say softly against his hat.

Dustin breaks away, shrugging his shoulders. “Gotta protect the party, right?”

“Right.” You flick his hat. “C’mon, let’s go back to the car and start putting the meat in the buckets.”

True to his word, Steve is ready to go after about twenty minutes. He walks out of his house, freshly clean and put together, right as you and Dustin finish preparing the bait. He approaches from behind you, and you can smell his cologne. Memories from when he’d have his arms around you and you’d smell the familiar scent now wash over you.

Clearing your throat, you turn to hand him gloves and a bucket, but almost drop it when you see him.

He looks good. Like, frustratingly good. His hair is back in its usual style, but he’s wearing a dark blue polo and a gray jacket that fits him criminally well. You almost feel underdressed standing next to him with your ratty old cardigan, which you know is ridiculous to be concerned about. Plus, you’ve always known that Steve was attractive, so it’s stupid to be affected by it suddenly now.

You guys had one emotional conversation.

“Y/N?”

Steve’s staring at you quizzically, and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and hand him the bucket full of bait and instruct him to put the gloves on. He listens, dutifully putting them on and placing the bucket on the ground and starts searching for one of the backpacks in the trunk. He’s seemingly in a much better mood now, which you’re thankful for.

“Dustin! This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?”

Lucas’ voice rings out from Dustin’s walkie, and you perk your head up, relieved that he’s okay. The radio silence from the party was something that unnerved you immensely. With Dart on the loose, Will’s increasing episodes, who knows what else is happening in Hawkins at the moment?

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Dustin responds, placing his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. You chuckle at him and continue helping Steve unload the trunk.

You hear Lucas sigh into the walkie. “Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.”

“Tell Erica I say hi!” You call out, knowing Lucas will hear you. He always resented the fact that his sister is so nice to you. You’re the only living person who didn’t receive Erica’s insane insults, which is something you’re very proud of.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Lucas!”

Dustin shoos you away and continues to speak. “Well, when you were having sister problems, which really aren’t that hard to handle–”

“Says you,” you butt in.

“Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” Your brother finishes. By this point, you and Steve have pretty much unpacked everything in the car.

“Wait, what?” You’d kill to see the look on Lucas’ face right now.

“I’ll explain later, just meet me, Y/N, and Steve at the old junkyard.” As Dustin wraps up the conversation, Steve shoves his bat into the bag and you watch him with disappointment. He’s trying really hard to make it fit, and you almost pity the boy. Bless him.

There’s a pause before Lucas asks, “Steve?”

Dustin doesn’t elaborate, instead instructing his friend to bring his binoculars and wrist rocket. You suppose it’s a good idea to add more weapons to your arsenal. Better safe than sorry.

“Steve Harrington?” Lucas asks again, this time even more confused.

“He’s a friend,” you say, shoving your own weapons into the bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

Steve closes the trunk and says, “Damn straight I am. Alright, let’s go.”

You follow after him, saying goodbye to Lucas as Dustin tells him to be at the junkyard stat.

Dustin stashes his walkie in his own bag and then the three of you are off. Your brother and Steve walk a bit ahead of you as you all throw the meat chunks onto the ground, doing as Dustin instructed. It’s slow work, but you’re happy to have some time to yourself while the boys are distracted with each other. Their friendship wasn’t something you’d expect, but you’re incredibly happy about it.

You love the party, you’d do anything for them given all that you’ve been through together. However, as they grow older, you can’t help but notice how much they’re changing. Mike hasn’t been himself since El disappeared, Dustin is now hyper focused on science, Lucas is becoming his own person, and poor Will is just trying to recover from the trauma of last year.

It’s been hard watching them grow apart, in a way. Nothing will ever be the same after the Upside Down, you know that, but watching the party slowly drift makes you sad for your brother. You’re glad he’s seemingly found someone like Steve to bounce jokes off of and feel appreciated by. You know that someday the kids will all come together again, it’d be impossible not to with how strong of a connection they all have, so you try not to worry too much.

You shove the thoughts down, you need to keep focused on Dart and contacting the rest of the party. So, you dutifully place the bait down and follow behind the boys and feel the time pass by. After about an hour of nonsensical conversation between Steve and Dustin, you hear the older boy finally ask the question of why your brother even hid Dart in the first place.

“It’s complicated, okay?” Dustin defects, clearly uncomfortable with the change in conversation.

You keep your distance from them, but you keep an ear out just in case you need to intervene.

“You claim you wanted to get famous off of it or whatever,” Steve drops meat onto the tracks and kicks his foot. “Call me crazy, but you don’t hide something that supposedly makes you famous.”

He has a point, and Dustin scrunches his face up. He casts a glance your way and you do your best to appear distracted by the job at hand. You know Dustin’s guilty face well, so whatever he’s about to tell Steve will be good. When Dustin shuffles closer to Steve and lowers his voice, you get closer as well so you can listen.

You’re his older sister. It’s your damn job to be nosy.

“It was for this girl.”

Simultaneously you and Steve react. He hums in approval, almost proud, while you scoff. “I knew it.”

Dustin turns around, horrified. “You knew?”

“Duh, you’re awful at hiding things from me. After Max was just conveniently outside the AV room when Dart originally escaped, I pieced it together immediately. Also, side note: you’re too young to be impressing girls. I told you to just be yourself, dummy.”

Steve lets out a snort. “Pretty ironic coming from you, Y/N.”

Suddenly you feel uncomfortable with his attention on you.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice is steady, but you can feel your hands shaking as you continue throwing the bait.

“Ya know, your massive crush on Jonathan ever since you were twelve.” He laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke in the world.

Dustin clears his throat aggressively, pointing to your hands. Steve sees the way that they shake, the tension you now carry in your shoulders, and he’s become familiar enough with you to know your anger cues. The teasing smile that had been on his face drops. He runs towards you so he’s now by your side, and Dustin sighs in disappointment.

“I didn’t, like, mean anything by that, you know. I–uh, I was kidding, Y/N.” Steve tries to catch your gaze, but you pointedly stare straight ahead and clench your jaw. He’s stumbling over both his words and the tracks beneath his feet, trying desperately to appease you. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.”

“Y/N, please, I said I was sorry–”

You finally face him, grabbing his elbow to ensure he doesn’t move. “I told you that stuff about Jonathan in confidence. You don’t get to throw it back in my face, joking or not.”

It doesn’t help that you’re already confused enough as it is about the boy and your feelings towards him. To have Steve tease you about it, especially because he knows how painful jabs about Nancy are… It really fucking hurts.

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows.

“Shit…”

“You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.”

Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.”

They walk in silence for a little while, Steve hanging his head in shame and Dustin leading the way, frustrated by being stuck with two overly emotional teens.

After a while the silence eats at Steve, so he decides to continue the conversation from earlier. “So, this girl… is she someone you’ve known a while?”

Dustin shakes his head, “No, she’s new at our school. She’s super cool, though.”

“I remember back when I based my attraction to girls on their coolness.” Steve mumbles.

“And look where basing it off their hotness has gotten you.”

“Ouch,” Steve rubs at his chest, wounded.

Dustin laughs and flings some bait at him. “I thought that if I showed her Dart, she’d think I was cool, too, and like me.”

Steve sidesteps the thrown bait and tries to comprehend what the younger boy is saying. “So, you kept something that you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who… you just met?”

“Alright, that’s grossly oversimplifying things. And anyways, who are you to give me girl advice? My sister is literally three hundred feet ahead of us because you pissed her off with one singular sentence.” Then, almost as if as an afterthought, Dustin adds, “congrats, by the way. I’ve never seen someone piss her off so quickly.”

“Look, this isn’t about me, okay? Sure, I messed up with Y/N, but it isn’t like I was hitting on her to begin with,” Dustin makes a disgusted face as Steve quickly continues, panicked. “So she doesn’t count. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard, man.”

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?” Dustin grumbles.

Steve shakes his head, slightly amused by the boy’s antics. He’s so much like you, and yet so different, and Steve is realizing it’ll take a lot to keep up with the kid. “It’s not about the hair, dude. Chicks dig more than just a good hairstyle.”

“You’re literally known as Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

“Hey, ‘King Steve’ is also there.”

Dustin flings even more bait at Steve, now annoyed with him. “Whatever man, it’s not like you’d be any help anyways.”

“Oh really? Well, Little Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind: the key to girls is just acting like you don’t care.”

“Even if you do?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Steve now brightens up, happy to finally be getting through to the boy. For Steve, he’s long since learned that the best way to avoid getting hurt is to pretend that he doesn’t care. “It drives them nuts.”

“Then what?”

“You just wait,” Steve looks ahead, watching you and feeling like a complete dick. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you, hell the two of you were finally starting to get somewhere and yet… Steve fucked it up. As always.

He can see that your shoulders are still tensed up, you’re walking faster than you need to be. He feels a heavy weight in his stomach, one that he’s never felt before; he doesn’t like it. “You wait… until you feel it.”

Dustin furrows his brows. “Feel what?”

Steve tears his gaze away from you and turns back to Dustin, beginning to explain the electricity between someone you’re interested in. Being the geek that he is, Dustin turns it into a scientific discussion and Steve does his best to steer the conversation back.

“No, like sexual electricity.” He explains.

As soon as the words leave Steve’s lips, you whip around and shout, “Are you seriously talking to my little brother about sexual electricity?”

Both Dustin and Steve freeze in place, dumbfounded. You let out a loud groan and continue stomping away, now even more aggressively throwing the chunks at the train tracks.

“How did she even hear me?” Steve whispers, terrified.

“I don’t know,” Your brother whispers back, also equally frightened. “Sometimes I think she has powers like El.”

Once you’re a safe enough distance away from them, Dustin hesitantly brings the girl conversation back up. “Hypothetically, what do girls like?”

Steve takes a second to answer, carefully rolling the question around in his mind. “It depends on the girl. Some girls want you to be aggressive, ya know? Go in for the kiss, make them feel protected. Strong, hot and heavy. Like a lion.”

Dustin hums to indicate he’s following along, but ‘like a lion’ has him a little worried about the reliability of the conversation. He knows that Steve is a lady’s man, but he’s also never seen him with any girl besides Nancy, and the one time he saw him with you, he had immediately pissed you off.

So for all Dustin knows, it could be lies.

Steve continues his confusing explanation. “But others? You gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy… like a ninja!”

“Okay, what type is Nancy?” Dustin asks, hoping to get the teen to stop making stupid analogies. Lions, ninjas… maybe it was all lies.

The question catches Steve off guard and he stumbles a bit, feeling the familiar sense of protectiveness, insecurity, over the girl as well as a new sense of loss. What type is Nancy? If he had been asked this a week ago, Steve would’ve told Dustin that she’s a nice girl, a girl he could happily bring home to his parents and proudly wrap around his arms. Now? He’s not so sure.

Not when he can still see the anger and disgust in Nancy’s eyes that night at the party.

“Nancy’s different,” he recalls his conversation with you from last night, how he’d confessed to always feeling two steps behind the girl and how exhausting it all is. “She’s just different. Let’s move on to the next question.”

Dustin notices Steve’s change in demeanor but doesn’t say anything. He supposes that you and him have a lot in common, then. “Okay, what type would you say Y/N is?”

Once again Steve isn’t expecting the question Dustin asks. “What–” he trips over a twig and just barely manages to catch himself. “Why would you ask me that? She’s your sister, and I don’t even like her–”

“Relax, Romeo. She’s just similar to Nancy and the girl I like, and I figured you’d know Y/N well enough by now considering you guys slept together–”

“I slept on her bean bag–”

“And have been friends for like, a year. Plus, she’s in love with Jonathan, you’re in love with Nancy, and coincidentally they’re in love with each other. Figures that there’s some type intermingling between the four of you.”

How the hell does everyone know about Nancy and Jonathan? Steve thinks bitterly.

He’s silent for multiple seconds, absolutely at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t know where to begin or what to even deny. Technically the boy is right, as much as it hurts Steve to admit. He’s all but lost Nancy to Jonathan, and you’ve lost Jonathan to Nancy.

In an extremely messed up way, you and Nancy do have the same type. On top of that, both you and Nancy are close to Jonathan, so it’s safe to assume there’s similarities to the both of you that Steve doesn’t even want to touch on right now.

Even more importantly, Steve has yet to really decipher why your presence alone can make or break his entire day. Why, after months of not talking, it now feels like he’s finally come home again with you back in his life.

He looks at you again, still angrily throwing your bait, and he supposes that you’re a lot like Nancy in certain aspects, and yet completely different from her. “Y/N is also different, I guess. She’s incredibly intelligent both emotionally and academically. Isn’t she like the top of her class?”

Dustin nods, proud of the Henderson intelligence, and Steve continues.

“Right. I’d say she’s like Nancy, except she’s softer?” Steve cringes at his own words, suddenly uncomfortable with comparing the two of you. In his mind, you’re both your own separate entities that infatuate him in different ways.

You both burn Steve; Nancy is like a shot of whiskey, the thrill that follows the burn. But you? You’re a fireplace after hours of being out in the cold, the burn of it warming his bones.

“Y/N is just… she’s special, but everyone knows that. Your sister is the most caring person I’ve ever met, and I know I’m a lucky son of a bitch to be someone she trusts.”

Dustin snorts. “Yeah you are.”

Up ahead, you finally slow down and face the boys, now waiting for them to catch up and call out, “C’mon, ladies! The sun sets soon, I don’t want Lucas waiting in the cold all alone.”

“Looks like I’ve been forgiven.” Steve says, relief evident in his voice, something that your brother doesn’t miss.

Dustin lets out another loud snort, patting him on the chest, “Oh, my sister may be forgiving, but she never forgets.” With that, he walks away to catch up with you.

“Well, isn’t that ominous.”

You greet the boys with a tired smile, knowing there’s no use holding resentment towards Steve. He couldn’t have known about your mixed feelings towards Jonathan, you know he had only been trying to get along with Dustin.

Things are still weird between you two, despite the conversation from last night, but it’s hard to stay mad at Steve and honestly, you don’t really want to be mad at him. It’s been so lovely having him around again, and your own confusing feelings can wait.

Steve leans in close to you, gently grabbing at your hand so that you don’t walk away. “Hey, we okay?”

His eyes are full of concern and his voice is sickly sweet like honey. With the honey, the remaining bits of anger vanishes. “Of course we’re okay.”

Steve exhales deeply and you giggle at him before remembering that Dustin is quite literally a few feet away from you two. Coughing, you hold up your bucket to point out how it’s almost empty. “I guess in my rage, I flung more than I intended. How are your buckets holding up?”

The two boys hold their buckets up, giving you a mock solute to indicate that all is good. You laugh, impressed by how synched they’ve become in such a short time.

“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” As you all begin to walk in line again, you ask, “What were you guys even talking about, anyways?”

The boys glance at each other in a conspiring way, which causes you to roll your eyes. They’re acting like you asked for their deepest and darkest secrets. They seem to have a silent conversation for a couple seconds before Steve finally speaks up.

“I was just giving Little Henderson some girl advice. Nothing serious.”

You raise your eyebrows, your heart swelling a bit at the idea of Steve giving your brother advice. It’s sweet, really. “Girl advice, huh?”

“Yeah, why do you sound so skeptical?”

“Because you’re terrible with girls.”

Dustin now butts in, “He told me to be aggressive.”

“I did not!”

“He also said that you’re softer than Nancy.”

You make a face. “Thank you? I think?”

Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “You two are the worst people I’ve ever met. You know that, right?”

In unison, you and Dustin reply, “We get that a lot.”

Steve stares at the two of you with slight horror in his eyes. “Yeah, alright. I’m out.”

You grab at his sleeve, gently stopping him from storming away. You give him an apologetic look and pull him close so that your chest bumps against his. “You’ve gotta get used to the Henderson humor, Steve.”

He looks surprised by your tugging at his sleeve before he lets a smile cross his face. He doesn’t do anything else, but he also doesn’t back away, either, and you find yourself blushing a bit under his gaze.

You clear your throat and let go of his sleeve, stepping back a bit. “Anyways, why don’t you tell me what wise advice you have for my brother.”

The smile that was just on Steve’s face vanishes as he looks away from you. “I was just telling the kid to not fall in love with his little crush. He’s too young for heartbreak and all that other shit.”

“I’m not in love with her!” Dustin exclaims in disgust, but you’re too distracted by Steve’s words to assure your brother that you believe him.

“Well, I believe that love is something beautiful.” You say, your words only meeting Steve’s turned back. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know his indifference holds no malice. He’s still hurting, still in love with Nancy Wheeler. “Dustin, you may be too young to be in love, but don’t listen to Steve. To love and be loved is the luckiest thing we can ever do, regardless of how it ends.”

Dustin blanches at your words, grossed out now. “Okay, okay, stop! Love is gross. I get it.”

You softly mumble sorry to him, now suddenly remembering that he’s only thirteen. When you were his age, the idea of love also grossed you out. Now, love is a concept that you’ve found a comforting warmth in, even if it's burned you a few times and has left you more exhausted than exhilarated. One day he’ll understand (in the far off future, hopefully).

For now, you flick your brother’s hat and follow after Steve, finishing the rest of the bait journey in silence.

–

By the time the three of you get to the junkyard, it’s already about midday.

It’s different from how you imagined it, filled with old cars and a giant school bus. It’s more open, too, not as “junkyard” as you assumed.

You, Steve, and Dustin stand at the top of the hill, surveying the area. Your feet ache from the walk and the sun is hurting your eyes. Seeing you squinting, Steve wordlessly hands you his signature Raybans and motions for you to put them on.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. It’ll do just fine,” He says, satisfied as he begins to walk down the hill. Then, as an afterthought, he says to Dustin, “Good call, dude.”

Dustin beams with pride and you fill with so much happiness, seeing the boy getting along so well with Steve, that you almost regret not having them meet sooner. However, there’s no time to wallow in what-if’s and you put Steve’s sunglasses on to follow after the boys.

Immediately you and Steve get to work, working seamlessly together side by side, months of him joining you in Bookstrordinary finally being put to use. While you and Steve silently scatter more meat and grab supplies, Dustin surveys the area.

Just as you’ve dumped the remaining meat in the middle of the field, you hear Lucas’ voice call from a few yards away, “I said medium well!”

The boy is with Max, who looks slightly displeased, yet curious, to be here. Despite her still obvious hesitation, you still feel excited seeing the girl. You’ve been meaning to talk more to her, she seems like such a lovely girl.

“Who’s that?” Steve asks you.

“Max! She’s great, and–” You start gushing about the girl, eager to go and say hi, before you see the crestfallen look on Dustin’s face when he realizes why she’s with Lucas. You remember, then, the weird tug-of-war between the boys over her. Shit.

You grab at Steve’s hand and pull him aside. “Actually, Steve, why don’t we start finding some panels to cover the bus?”

Steve gives you a questioning look, but when you silently motion towards Dustin and he sees his despair as well, he catches on and just nods, following along. Without having to tell him, he understands that you want to leave Dustin alone so he can talk to Lucas.

As always, you’re forever thankful that he can read you so well.

After guiding Steve away, you and him begin to prep the junkyard alongside Max. While the boys are talking, you take this as an opportunity to get to know the girl better.

“So,” you begin, helping Max carry a large piece of wood over to the bus. “I see you’re back again.”

“Looks like it,” she shrugs, not really feeling like talking. Seems like she’s still mad at you for yesterday, taking Lucas’ side over hers.

You sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“That’s a first.” Again she deflects, but you know she’s doing it out of hurt rather than maliciousness.

“I know you don’t really like me right now, which I totally understand, I just wanted to let you know that while I don’t like that you’ve been dragged into this mess, I’m happy you’re here.”

Max frowns at you. “You guys act like I’m going to like, die or something.”

A scrap of metal that you’d been carrying slips from your hands. Steve hears this and comes rushing over to help, but you gently wave him away and focus on Max. “I don’t know what Lucas told you, but it’s all true. It’s dangerous, being here, and I just… If you ever get hurt, any of you kids, then it’d be on me and I’d never forgive myself.”

“Way to be a buzzkill, Y/N.” Steve nudges you, trying to get you to smile before your ever-present guilt bears down upon you.

Max bites her lip, still disbelieving, but she recognizes the pained look of protectiveness on your face. It’s not something that someone can easily fake, and from what she’s heard about you, your kindness is one of the few genuine things in Hawkins.

Before she can say anything else, Steve lets out a huff and grabs a chair to bang on the car that Lucas and Dustin are talking behind. “Hey! Dickheads! How come it’s only Y/N and some random girl helping me?”

“Language!” You chastise.

Steve sends you a thumbs up, not really listening. “We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”

Dustin and Lucas reluctantly start helping, both calling Steve an asshole and throwing him dirty looks, which you can’t help but laugh at.

Lucas sees you laughing and points at you. “Are you the reason Harrington is here?”

“Mhm,” you respond, nailing another piece of wood to the bus. “He’s done more to help than you have, so either pick up some metal and help or go sit in a corner and sulk. Up to you.”

Steve high fives you. “Yeah! What she said!”

Lucas’ shoulders sag, completely at a loss as to how any of this has happened. “This is so weird.”

“Dude, I’ve spent all day with them. Imagine how I feel,” Dustin groans. “I think I died a little when I found out they’ve been friends for like, a year.”

“A year?” Lucas gasps.

“Guys!” You throw pebbles at the two boys to break up their little gossip session. “One, I’m incredibly hurt you two didn’t think I had any friends besides Jonathan. Two, start helping before I throw more rocks.”

“Yes ma’am,” both boys grumble in unison, which Max finds pretty impressive.

After that, the five of you get to work. You guys use every item available in the junkyard to secure the bus, hoping that with enough stacked against it, you’ll be safe from Dart once he’s lured. Barrels are rolled, more sheets of metal are placed against the bus, and within the next hour or so you’ve successfully managed to build a decent base.

All that’s left is to pour the gasoline trail, which you help Steve with as the kids watch from inside the bus.

“I’m getting major deja-vu right now,” you mumble as Steve pours.

“Gasoline at Jonathan’s?”

“Mhm. God, he wouldn’t believe what we’re doing right now.” You know he would’ve loved this bizarre interaction. You, Steve, and the kids all in a junkyard trying to lure a baby Demogorgon.

You’ve definitely had better babysitting days, and Jonathan would have a field day with this one.

Once you’re done with the gasoline, you and Steve return to the bus. He waits behind you, making sure you’re securely in the car, before he heaves the old bus door closed. As soon as the door is closed, you and Steve exhale together.

You share a look, both in silent agreement to keep the kids safe no matter what. It’s your guys’ job to keep them safe, to fight for and protect them.

Deja-vu again. You’re back in Jonathan’s house, holding a switchblade while Steve wields his bat.

“Ready?” He asks you, extending his hand out for you to grab.

You interlock your fingers through his. “When am I ever?”

Steve laughs, dispelling away any remaining uncertainty and fear. You know, that no matter what, that he’ll be by your side to help. With this in mind, you join the kids further into the bus.

Lucas climbs the ladder up to the top, something you’re not fully okay with, but he’s the one with the binoculars and you the switchblade, so it makes the most sense. As the boy climbs, you sit down next to Steve as he flicks his lighter on and off. You’re pressed shoulder to shoulder, his presence grounding you.

Dustin paces, and all you can do is watch him as you try to settle your own nerves. Max has seated herself at the other end of the bus, her arms crossed as usual.

After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “So, you really fought one of these things before?”

Steve nods and you hum in agreement. “Unfortunately.”

“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”

“I mean, to be fair I also had that same thought last year–”

Dustin cuts you off. “Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.”

You roughly grab at your brother, yanking him towards you to shut him up. “Dustin–”

“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” He sneers at Max, something you’ve never, ever seen your sweet brother do. “Just go home.”

Max clenches her jaw and you send her an apologetic look, but she rolls her eyes at you. “Geesh, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?”

“Max, wait–” She ignores you and climbs up the ladder to join Lucas. You groan once she’s gone, now more than ever wanting to strangle your brother. “Dustin, what the hell was that?”

“That was good, Y/N!” Steve says, a proud smirk on his face. “He showed her he didn’t care, just like I told him to.”

“Oh, so it’s your fault my sweet, innocent baby brother is now some woman hating misogynistic piece of–”

“I don’t hate women, Y/N.” Dustin tiredly says, before directing his next words to Steve. “And I don’t care.”

Steve winks at the boy, but immediately flinches back when you raise your hand to smack him. “Yeah, cower away, you idiotic and moronic–”

“Y/N, stop overreacting and Steve, stop winking at me.”

You raise your eyebrows at Dustin’s tone and he quickly clears his throat and steps away from you. Steve puts some distance between you two as well, scooting away a bit so that he’s out of hitting range.

It’s quiet again, both boys now scared of your anger, and you anxiously wait for Dart to show up.

Steve goes back to flicking the lighter, Dustin paces again, and you tap your foot nervously. The silence is killing you, it’s always been your least favorite part of the Upside Down. The waiting, hoping you’re prepared for when all hell inevitably breaks loose.

You flick your own blades out, admiring the way the blades catch in the moonlight, when you hear a loud growl come from outside. Instinctively you raise your blades to your face while Steve and Dusin scramble to peek through the metal sheets to look out the window.

“You guys see him?” Dustin asks as he crouches next to you.

You shake your head. “No,”

There’s nothing outside, only a thick haze of fog that has settled over the junkyard.

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Your brother calls up to his friend.

“Hold on!” The boy responds.

Your heart begins to beat faster, your blades never straying away from your face, poised for a fight. Steve sees the way your knuckles whiten over your weapon and he grabs your spare hand, gently coaxing you to calm down.

Your fingers tighten around Steve’s and you remember his words from last night, promising you that he’ll be there, and you believe him.

From the bus’ roof, you hear Lucas call down, “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock–ten o’clock!”

There, in the haze of fog, you see a hunched figure stalk its way towards the bus. Seeing Dart, you’re filled with complete dread. He’s grown again, much bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

He’s practically the size of the Demogorgon from last year, the same one that almost killed you and Steve.

“What’s he doing?” Dustin asks, as if anyone else would have any more information than he does.

“I don’t know,” Steve sighs, his eyes never leaving Dart.

You squeeze his hand again and hold your breath as you watch the Demodog. He slowly approaches the bait, inspects the area, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in it. You send a silent prayer to whatever god is above that your plan will work.

It has to work.

However, Dart starts to back away from the bait and Steve leans even closer to the window. “He’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?”

“I don’t know,” you want to cry from exhaustion and fear and defeat.

Dustin looks over at you. “Maybe he’s not hungry?”

Something seems to click, then, for Steve. His eyes light up with an idea, and before he can even get his words out, you grasp at Steve’s arm and try to talk him out of it. “No, absolutely not. You’re not going out there.”

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve tries to make you let go of him, but you quickly tighten your hold on him and fight back. “Y/N, let me go, I can run fast and–”

“You can’t just use yourself as bait!” You plead, but Steve has always been stronger than you and he drags you behind him as he makes his way towards the bus door. “Steve, listen to me!”

“Steve? Steve!” Dustin finally catches on to what’s happening and he grabs at the teen as well. “What are you doing?”

Steve ignores you both and with a quick jerk of his arm, he frees himself from you. As soon as you’ve let go, he runs towards the door and snatches his bat from the ground. You curse, knowing there’s no way in hell he’s going out there alone, so you follow after him.

Dustin sees this and panics. “Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re going–”

“Stay put!” You command, scrambling after Steve, who has now begun to open the door. He tosses you the lighter, which you toss to your brother. “Just get ready, Dustin!”

“Y/N!”

“I love you!”

Dustin continues to shout, his pleas laced with more fear than you’ve ever heard from him, but you force yourself to leave. Just as you’ve stepped outside and re-closed the bus door, Dustin pounds against the glass that you’ve locked, tears in his eyes.

You look away, despite how fucking hard it is, and it takes everythin within you to leave.

Steve saved your life last year.

Now it’s your turn.

It’s tense outside as you and Steve walk back to back, weapons out. He twirls his bat a few times, a move that you find yourself smiling at due to its familiarity. With your back against his, you whisper to Steve, “You look for Dart, I keep an eye for anything else?”

He nods, and together the two of you slowly follow the sound of Dart’s chittering.

“C’mon buddy,” Steve taunts, beginning to whistle.

“I know we named it a Demodog, but I don’t think whistling will help.”

“We could be about to die, and you’re seriously questioning what I’m doing?”

You shrug, eyes now on the skyline as the fog slowly thickens. “Habit.”

Steve chuckles, which brings some comfort to the fucking awful situation at hand. He whistles some more, continuing to taunt Dart. “C’mon. Dinner time.”

“Again with offering Dart meals while we’re near him,” you shake your head, not at all liking where any of this is going.

“What? At least human tastes better than cat.” Steve responds, now at the pile of raw meat.

You both stop here, Steve facing the bait and you facing the bus, still scanning for literally anything else that could possibly go wrong. Because you’re Y/N Henderson and nothing can ever, ever go right for you.

Dart lets out another growl, now having spotted Steve, and the teen swings his bat around. You spare a quick glance behind you and see Dart, who has placed all his focus on you and Steve.

Well, at least the live bait plan is working.

You turn away again, and as soon as you do, you see the other Demodogs now suddenly appear. Your blood runs cold when you see the two up ahead, one directly in front of you and one on top of the cars.

For a moment, your words seem to fail you and no sound comes out when you try to speak. All you can do is stare at them, overcome with fear. You’re back in Jonathan’s once more, the fear strangling you as the memories paralyze you.

From the top of the bus, Lucas yells, “Steve! Y/N! Watch out!”

“We’re a little busy here!” Steve yells back, eyes still on Dart.

The Demodog in front of you starts to approach, which finally seems to break you from your spell. Shakily, you tell Steve, “There’s more.”

“What?” He tries to turn around, but you shove at him to not lose sight of Dart. You can’t distract him now. Another Demodog has joined.

“Three o’clock! Right in front of Y/N!” Lucas screams, his voice cracking with fear.

“Y/N?” Steve fully turns around now when he realizes that you’re also in danger, and when he sees the three other Demodogs, he lets out a curse. “Shit.”

Suddenly, you and Steve are surrounded by Demodogs, more than you ever could’ve imagined. More than the two of you can even fight on your own.

Back at Jonathan’s, it had taken guns, fire, knives, and bats to kill a grown Demogorgon.

You don’t think your knives and Steve’s bat will be enough for Demodogs.

“Steve! Y/N! Abort!” Dustin has flung the bus door open, screeching for the two of you to get out of there.

It’s too late. Dart has opened his mouth and is running towards you two, his friends joining as well.

“I go left, you go right!” Steve has just enough time to direct you before Dart lunges.

You dodge, going right as instructed while Steve flings himself on top of a car to avoid the monsters. As Steve hits Dart with his bat, crouched against the car, you narrowly avoid the other Demodog and drop to the ground as it jumps over your head. “Shit!”

Steve swings his bat again and tries to make his way over to you, but you’re off the ground in a heartbeat and run to him instead. Two of the Demodogs are on him now, and there’s only so much damage his bat can do. Breathless, you run over and stab at their backs, doing everything you can to give Steve an opening to run.

Faintly, you hear the kids in the background cheering you guys on, urging you two to come home.

One of the Demodogs lets out a harsh screech as your blade pierces its skin. It crumbles to the ground, giving Steve just enough of an opening to begin running towards the bus. When he goes to run, you notice one of the Demodogs eying him, and before you can even process what’s happening, you’re throwing yourself in front of him and you feel nails tear at your ribs.

You scream, clutching at your side in agony, feeling blood quickly beginning to spill from your wound. “Fuck!”

“Y/N!” Steve starts to run toward you, pale with fear.

“No!” You shove him back towards the bus; you can’t let him get hurt because of you. “Go, I’ll be fine!”

He tries to argue, but you take a deep breath and grip his jacket tightly, practically flinging him inside the bus just before Dart lunges again. Together, the two of you stumble up the steps and barricade the door.

As soon as it’s closed, Dart begins slamming against it with his entire body.

Steve uses his legs to hold the door closed while you lay sprawled on the ground, trying to steady your breathing as more blood spills from you. The room is spinning and you’re pretty sure you can taste blood in your mouth.

Awesome. Cool.

The kids are screaming and Dart’s body causes the entire bus to rock as his friends now join, throwing their own bodies against the bus as well.

“Are they rabid or something?” Max screams, but everyone ignores her.

Steve, quick as ever, finds a spare piece of metal and wedges it against the door and uses his legs again to hold it in place. He looks over at you on the ground and feels his heart jump to his throat. You’re pale, a sheen of sweat now dotted across your forehead, and there’s now a concerningly large pool of blood where you lay. “Dustin, go help your sister!”

Dustin looks up and finally notices your injury and almost faints at the sight. In a daze, he runs over to you and kneels down, terrified of how much blood there is. “Oh my god.”

“I’m fine,” you wince, trying to clench your teeth and bear through the pain. “Honestly, this is like a paper cut.”

“Y/N–” The sound of glass shattering cuts Dustin off as a Demodog breaks through the window. Everyone screams, and your brother grabs your arms and drags you further towards the back of the bus to avoid any glass getting on you.

Wearily, you watch as Steve does whatever he can with his bat, and a part of you wants to laugh. He looks like he’s playing the hardest game of wack-a-mole ever.

Meanwhile, Lucas and Max have joined you and Dustin. When they see you, Lucas lets out a choked scream while Max covers her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Lucas kneels over you as well, and you find his sincerity endearing. He’s always been the sweetest in the group, the most comforting.

“Never been better,” you wheeze out.

Dustin instructs Lucas to stay with you while he tries to radio for help. “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God? Anyone!”

“God would be pretty nice to have.” You remark, pain making you even more delirious than usual.

Max looks at Lucas. “She’s losing it.”

“I think I’m doing great, all things considered.”

Dustin continues to scream into his walkie for help while Lucas tries to stop your bleeding. Max is running around, looking for anything to help, and Steve is still stuck at the front of the bus playing wack-a-mole with Demodogs.

The situation is so fucking grim, and you’ve never wanted to laugh more.

Then, to make matters even worse, the ceiling of the bus starts to creak. You see the faint outlines of what suspiciously looks like Demodog footprints on the roof. In slow, agonizing footsteps, Dart makes his way over to the emergency exit on top.

He leers over, and Max, who is at the bottom of the ladder, screams.

Steve shoves the kids back and you try to get up, but Lucas pushes you down and shakes his head at you.

“You want some? Come get this!” Steve places himself between Dart and you and the kids, screaming at the thing and waving his bat around, and you’ve never been more attracted to him.

Dart lets out a blood curdling screech, his mouth full of rows of razor sharp teeth that killed your cat just the other day, and you cling onto Lucas’ hand. Another screech, and just before Dart strikes at Steve, it jumps off the bus and runs away.

Everyone freezes, unsure what to do, as more distant growls and howls can be heard from outside. Steve and the rest stand up, and you notice Lucas holding Max’s hand, and at least something good came out of this hellhole of a day.

“Any help here?” You finally ask after a minute or so, still lying helplessly on the ground as you bleed.

“Shit!” Steve drops his bat. “Where did it get you, where’s the bleeding? Dustin, did we pack any bandages, or–or an EMT stretcher or–”

“Steve,” you grab his hand, urging him to calm down. “It scratched the fuck out of my ribcage, but I’m not dying. I promise.”

“You’re not?” Dustin asks, tears in his eyes.

“I’m not. I just…” you shift, wincing at the pain. “I just really need a bandage and I’ll be good as new.”

Steve swallows, a frenzied look in his eyes, and nods. Without thinking, he tears a piece of your bloodied cardigan off and gently lifts your body up so that he can wrap the shred of cloth around you. He weaves it tight, his movements slow and delicate, his eyes never leave yours.

You can feel his hands shaking as he tends to your wound and ties the cloth with a knot. When he’s done, even though you’re aware of the kids’ eyes on you two, you bring his hands to your lips and kiss them. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” He whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Dustin coughs, which seems to make Steve remember where he is, and he clears his throat. “Right, well. Try not to lose any more blood, yeah?”

“I’ll try,”

Steve nods and stands back up, knowing Dustin and Lucas will want a moment with you, and makes his way back outside. He knows that they’re all still in danger, even if for some reason the Demdogs seem to have left.

Once Steve is gone, Dustin and Lucas help you stand, and as soon as you’re up, both boys try their best to give you a hug without hurting you.

“Don’t do that ever again,” Dustin sniffs, squeezing your uninjured side tightly.

“What he said,” Lucas sniffs as well, though he tries to hide his tears from you.

You laugh, your own tears evident as you hold the boys tight. “I promise.”

“You saved Steve,” Max notes, though her tone is neutral, you can see she’s impressed.

“I had to even out a debt.”

“Guys,” Steve calls from outside. “The coast is clear.”

Slowly, you and the kids make your way out of the bus. It takes some help from both Dustin and Lucas, but eventually you’re able to walk on your own, holding your side, and walk down the steps.

“You okay?” Steve is by your side as soon as you’ve stepped down, holding you so that he’s not touching your cut. You’re thankful for his support, the pain still making you feel woozy.

“We’ll talk later,” you motion towards the kids, not wanting to worry them any further.

He nods, although he hates that you feel like you can’t focus on your own safety.

“What happened?” Lucas asks the group.

“I don’t know.” Max looks around, and you think she’s finally starting to understand what she’s gotten herself into.

Dustin points to you and Steve. “Maybe they scared ‘em off?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head. It couldn’t have been that easy. “No way.”

“They’re going somewhere.” You finish for him, confirming your worst fears. Suddenly, more pain shoots through you and you wince again, squeezing your eyes shut.

Steve bends his head down, guiding you a bit away from the kids so that they won’t hear. “Hey, we don’t have to follow them. We can go home, you know.”

“We can’t.” You clench your jaw as pain rings throughout your body. The goddamn Demodog got you good. “We have to follow. It’s all connected, Will and his episodes, Nancy and Jonathan with the detective, and I’ll be damned if I back down now.”

“So we follow?” Steve asks, trusting whatever call you make.

You nod, knowing you have to do this. While you guys are safe for now, you know that everyone else has to be in danger; you have to protect them. “Unfortunately.”

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wtlws #m's writing #this chapter almost killed me #but bug and steve FINALLY TALKED !!!!#also ilu lucas ur my baby

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ham-st4r · 11 months

Text

𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓽.2 - 𝓛. 𝓗𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰

📞Pairing: heeseung + female reader!

Warnings: smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, cursing.

Genre: POS (phone sex operator) heeseung.

Summary: After your steamy call with Ethan, you find yourself thinking about him weeks later, and the temptation to call him was far too strong to avoid.

Number of words: 3,134k

Sorry for the wait this 🗑️ is definitely not worth it but i tried bro😔also probably a lot of mistakes but i couldn’t re-read it another time 💀

Pt.1

Find your way around!

Needless to say, heeseung had been thinking of you for the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately, you hadn’t called him again like he once thought you might of, and it may have been affecting him a little.

Who was he kidding? It was affecting him a lot, and he didn’t even really know why.

Every day, he was waiting on a call from you. Every time his phone rang, he was expecting to hear your sweet voice on the other end again, but alas, he never heard from you.

It was well past midnight, and he was still up taking calls. It was always busy for him around this time of night, but he wasn’t feeling up to it, so after a few more, he’d turn his active status to off.

His night was slowly but surely starting to come to a close a few hours later, so he figured he’d take one last call.

He let out one long sigh as he reclined on his bed. “Last one,” he mumbled to himself, getting into character before pressing the answer button. “Hello, sweetheart. How can I be of service to you tonight?” He says enthusiastically into his speaker despite not having any enthusiasm whatsoever.

You don’t even know why you were thinking of Ethan so much, but you just couldn’t help it. Maybe it was because he gave you that mind-blowing orgasm over the phone, or maybe it was because of how sweetly he talked you through it. Either way, he was still on your mind, and you could barely focus in class.

You contemplated calling him once you got home, but once you got there and, took a shower and sat comfortably on your bed with your phone in your trembling hands, you just couldn’t do it.

No matter how badly you wanted to, the idea just made you feel incredibly nervous and even embarrassed to an extent.

Especially after touching yourself and him hearing literally everything.

You cupped your warm cheeks in your palm, plopping down on your bed. “Ugh, what do I do?” You’ve been wanting to call him for weeks, but you know what: it’s now or never. Without thinking rationally, you sit up on your bed and press the call button, not giving yourself a second chance to regret your decision.

The first couple of rings went by, and you were going to hang up, but before you did, Ethan answered. “Hello, sweetheart. How can I be of service to you tonight?” Your whole body was literally shaking with nerves and a hint of excitement. He sounded just as heavenly as the first time you called him, or maybe even better.

Your mind went back to that night, thinking about when he guided you to bliss and came while moaning his name. There was a bubble of excitement forming in your stomach at the thought of reliving that night with him again.

Heeseung frowned when he didn’t get an answer. He looked at his phone, seeing that it was still connected, before trying again. “Sweetheart?” He called out softly, and he still didn’t get a response. Oddly enough, it reminded him of the night you first called. He remembered how shy and timid you were. Thinking back on it, he smiled at the thought of it, but then it clicked the timing, the timidness. Somehow, he just had a feeling that it was you, and he quickly sat up on his bed. “Angel?” He said, and his heart was literally pounding in his chest.

“H-hi, Ethan,” you mumbled out shyly into the speaker once you calmed yourself.

He melted the instant he heard your sweet voice. “Angel,” he said, sounding a bit too excited for you just to be another one of his customers, but he couldn’t help it. It was you. You had finally called him back after weeks. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispers softly.

He had only said a few words, but you already felt dizzy and drunk on his voice alone. “M-me too,” you nibbled on your lip and you didn’t realize it was possible to be this nervous on a phone call seeing how you’ve already done it before.

“Have you now?” He replies cockily, and there’s a slight teasing hint in his tone. “What about me have you been thinking about Angel?”

“Everything,” you answer simply, and he can hear your breath audibly shake.

“Ohh, come on, that’s no fun now, is it?” He chuckled at your vague answer, and somehow, even his laugh sounded hot to you. “You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about you?” He switches his position on the bed to a more comfortable one and rests his back against his headboard.

“Y-yes?” You answer unsurely.

“Angel, we’ve done this before. No need to be so timid,” he says, and evidently, he’d have to ease you into things like he did last time.

“Okay,” you breathe out, still not fully capable of answering him properly, but he doesn’t mind. The longer you stay on a call with him, the better.

“Are you sure you want to know all the things I’ve thought about it’s kind of naughty, angel.” he lowers his tone to a more seductive one and you’re still not sure how he does that so well everything he said made you feel so weak in the knees.

“Yes, I want to know,” you say softly as little tingles of anticipation fill your body.

“Hmm, okay,” he breathed into the speaker, and just the sound of his shaky breath was enough for the first glob of arousal to leak out and dampen your panties. It was embarrassing that just his voice alone could have you dripping. “I’ve thought about that sweet little pussy of yours and just how wet you got for me without me even being there” he bit his lip, thinking about that wonderful night he had the best orgasm of his life with you.

You whimper at his words, and before you could cover it, he had already heard it and was just as pretty as the first time he heard it.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” he swallowed thickly. “I wanted to be there with you so bad, teasing you, touching you, pleasuring you,” he hummed.

“Oh, Ethan,” you moaned his name as your hand traveled into your shorts, and you began rubbing yourself, too impatient to wait any longer.

“Would you like that, Angel?” He slowly laid on his back, resting his palm over his growing bulge.

“Yes,” you moaned quietly, and surely enough, all the nerves that had once controlled your body had completely dissipated, replaced with nothing but the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“Me too. I’d kiss and lick every single last inch of your beautiful body, trace my fingers over each dip and curve until you’re begging for me.” his eyes fluttered shut at the thought as he imagined caressing you and taking his time with you until you’re writhing in pleasure underneath him. “Till you’re begging me to push it inside,” he groaned while pressing down on the tent in his jeans.

“Fuck yes,” your eyes rolled back in your head as you pushed your panties to the side and started playing with your glistening folds. “I want it so bad, Ethan.” Your inhibitions were of none as you lost yourself in the feeling.

He couldn’t help but smirk at the idea of you getting more comfortable the longer he talked to you it made him feel a sense of pride that he was able to make you show that side of yourself to him. “I can tell, couldn’t even wait for me to give you permission before you started touching yourself. Hmm,” He scolded you teasingly.

“So s-sorry, Ethan,” you whined in embarrassment.

“I’m just teasing, angel, don’t apologize. I’m doing it too,” he breathed deeply, and you heard his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper. “Come on, angel, let’s do it together, yeah? Been waiting for you for so long.”

Your heart was in your stomach. Was he actually going to? Was he really thinking about you? Was he seriously waiting for you to call again? You decided not to entertain those thoughts cause, at the end of the day, this was his job, and he was acting. Of course, he wasn’t thinking of you the way you thought of him. “Okay,” you replied a little reluctantly.

“So, what have you been thinking about m-me?” He stuttered as his fingers brushed over his boxer-clad shaft.

This is the last thing you imagined you’d be saying, yet here you are, spilling your fantasies to a man named Ethan that you’ve never even met. “Your cock” you said so low he barely heard it.

He involuntarily twitched at your straightforward reply, not expecting you to say something like that so easily. “Yeah, angel? I’m stroking it right now just for you,” he whispered while caressing his length over his underwear, nice and slow.

“I wish I could do it for you,” you whimpered as you stuck a finger inside yourself, imagining it was his fingers instead.

“Me too, baby. I just know your hands would make me feel so good” he pulled his cock out of the teeny hole in his boxers, immediately swirling the head of his cock with his palm, impatiently spreading the wetness over his fully hardened shaft.

“I want nothing more than to touch your cock, Ethan,” you say boldly.

“You wanna touch me?” He unknowingly cocks his brow, trailing his hand lower as he squeezes his balls lightly before gripping the thick base of his cock and tugging on it softly.

“Hmm, mmm,” you moan softly, thumb gliding over your clit. “Wanna suck you too” You weren’t even under control of what you were saying the desire and lust you had for him clouded any and all of your better judgment.

“Naughty little thing, I see.” he laughs at the little whimper you let out, and that alone makes you clench around your finger. “It’s okay, Angel. Ethan wants it, too. Wanna feel your pretty little mouth wrapped around me. I’d do anything to feel you sucking me off so good till I cum down that precious throat. Tell me, angel, would you swallow for me? Tell me how good I taste on your tongue?”

“Hmm, yes, Ethan, I want to taste you so bad. Wanna feel your cum going down my throat,” you moaned carelessly, panting into the speaker as you added a second finger and started fucking yourself at a fast pace, the wet sounds of your pussy going straight into his ears. “I’d swallow it all for you.”

“That’s a good Angel can hear that pussys all wet for me wish I could fuck it, stuff you full of my dick, and cum inside you over and over again” At this point, he was so hard and turned on he couldn’t help but jerk his cock faster the sounds of your lewd moans and wet pussy wasn’t helping his case either, and he felt like cumming any minute.

“Yes, Ethan fuck need to feel you in my hand, in my mouth, inside of me just want you everywhere” You pushed your fingers as deep as they could go grinding your hips as you pressed the heel of your palm against your clit desperately fucking yourself to the sound of his voice and dirty talk.

“Fuck Oh my go- fuck angel,” he moaned loudly, relentlessly fisting his cock at your words. “You want that, huh? I’d give it to you so good, fill up your pretty holes cum in your mouth, and that fucking perfect little pussy, baby I’d give you it all just for being so good for me,” he grunts, the pace of his hand moving at an unimaginable speed as his high creeps up on him.

“Ethan!” You screamed, hand cramping up as you fingered yourself to the point of no return. “I’m cumming, I’m Cumming!” You moaned over and over again, feeling another orgasm coming as you kept going, not satisfied with just one.

“Ah fuck!” He threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut and chasing his orgasm with you, his tip filled with precum that dribbled out with every stroke. “That’s it, my angel cum” he whimpers, seconds away from following your lead. “Cum for Ethan,” he grits his teeth, neck veins bulging out, and sweat covering his whole entire body as his hips jerk up off his bed. His eyes shoot open when the first squirt of cum spurts out from his tip. “Oh s-shit,” he whines, rubbing his cock so fast it felt raw, but it was too good to stop. “Cumming, I’m cumming” he pants, hand steadily rubbing out rope after rope of cum as it stains his chest and abdomen.

It didn’t take long at all for your second orgasm to build his voice, and the way he called you his angel had you coming undone embarrassingly quick. “Ethan, I have t-to-“ you mewled out, eyes and brows clashing together as you whimpered continuously, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. “I’m cumming again,” you whine helplessly, rubbing your clit into overstimulation.

“Shit, angel again? Fuck go on cum for Ethan again” He squeezed his base tightly coaxing out every last dribble of semen. “Fuck” he whimpers, his whole body shaking violently from the intensity of his orgasm on top of the thought of you coming for him not once but twice.

“Ethan,” you whimpered softly, completely exhausted from having two mind-blowing orgasms in a row. “Feels so good,” you sighed in pleasure, caressing yourself down from your high slowly.

“Mhm, I know, angel,” he spoke softly, making the moment that much better as the waves of euphoria began to wash away from the both of you.

You hum, finally catching your breath, the faint throbbing between your legs settling as your eyes glazed over with post-orgasm bliss.

“Mhhm angel,” he whispers, spreading the copious amounts of seed over his shaft, stroking his length, and getting the most out of his orgasm until it begins to soften.

He was the first one to speak after your minds have had a chance to clear. “So…how was it?” He asks timidly, which isn’t like him at all, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help but feel shy and self-conscious about his performance, especially cause with you, he wasn’t acting. You were getting the raw, unfiltered version. With you, he was just being himself, heeseung, but with everyone else, he was Ethan, the phone sex worker.

“Good,” you say shyly, which makes a wide smile spread on his face as he reaches for some tissues to clean himself, but there is so much cum that he doesn’t even bother. After a while, he just tucked himself away, opting to take a shower before bed.

“Just good? It didn’t sound just good,” he smirks while teasing you.

“Ethan, stop,” you giggle, and you hear him laughing, which makes you even more shy as you pull your blankets up to cover your chest.

“But I’m having fun, Angel,” he chuckles.

“You are?” You asked curiously cause everything all night sounded genuine, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up cause there’s no way he actually had fun talking with you, and there was definitely no way he came with you either, but something deep down inside you wanted it to be real so you asked with a tiny glimmer of hope that this wasn’t one-sided.

“Of course, angel, you’re gonna have to start calling me more often cause you made me wait too long,” he whines. “I missed you.”

“I will, Ethan. I missed you too,” you told him honestly, even though you knew he probably didn’t want to hear from you for real. You knew he was just saying that to make more money off of you, and the thought of having feelings for him kinda left a bitter taste in your mouth when you knew he didn’t care even an ounce for you. “Ethan, it’s late, so I think I’ll hang up now,” you said, feeling down even though you really didn’t have a right to. It was literally your fault for getting your hopes up and feeling any type of way about him in the first place.

“Already?” He frowned. “Why Angel? Just talk to me a little before bed, yeah?”

“I can’t…. I think I should just rest,” you whisper, feeling sleep knocking on your door. Plus, you didn’t want to talk to him longer. It’d only make you like him more, and ultimately, that would ruin your mood even more than it already is. After tonight, you probably wouldn’t call him again either cause. Apparently, you have a habit of getting attached to people who have no interest in you.

“Oh,” he mumbles disappointedly. He sucks in a breath happily, wishing you a goodnight even though he was bummed that he couldn’t talk to you longer. “Okay, well, I’ll hold you to it, angel, 'cause I really, really wanna hear from you again, okay?” He says sincerely, hoping you know he doesn’t want your money and that he genuinely wants to talk to you again soon.

“Okay,” you lie. “Goodnight, Ethan,” you yawned seconds away from sleep.

“Goodnight,” he says reluctantly, but if you were sleepy, he didn’t want to keep you up, especially since you probably had classes the next morning. “Sweet dreams, my angel,” he says just before you hang up.

He sighed softly cause a part of him wanted that call to last longer, not even for the money. Hell, at this point, when you called, he didn’t even see it as work or making money. It just felt oddly romantic in a way.

He knows it’s dumb, but when you called, he kinda felt like he was in a long-distance relationship with you, which again, he knows is stupid cause you didn’t even know him like that, but still, it was fun after a long day you’d call him, and you’d both make each other feel good like a real couple.

He just wanted to talk and talk about anything and everything with you cause your voice was so pretty, and you seemed so sweet. Maybe some nights when you called, you’d both fall asleep on the phone together or something like that.

He shook off the feeling, realizing that he was just being plain ridiculous, and went to take a shower even though his legs still felt completely numb after that mind-blowing orgasm.

Later that night, when he closed his eyes, he just hoped you’d keep your word and call him again tomorrow.

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback. - 🐹

Permanent taglist 🔖 @hee-pster @hoyeonheeseung @furious-eagle @heehoonsnemo

Just a call away taglist 🔖 @heeseungshim @rayofsunshineeee @fakeuwus

#heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen #lee heeseung #smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung enhypen #heeseung fluff #enhypen hard hours #enhypen lee heeseung smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #kpop #fanfic #enhypen heeseung fluff

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littlereaderxfandoms · 8 months

Text

Weekend Gone Wrong

caregiver!hotch x caregiver!spencer x caregiver!derek x little!fem!reader + little friends

Summary: This weekend has been in the making for two weeks. Two weeks of no regression and constant stress. Hopefully, nothing goes wrong.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort (?)

Length: 3.1k words

You shut your laptop with a sigh, exhausted, when you see a text from Derek that they were leaving the office. The last two weeks have been bad for you mentally, physically and emotionally. The guys haven’t had a chance to be home in the last almost three weeks due to back-to-back cases, you found out that your parents couldn’t pay for your university anymore because of which you have picked up more shifts and started another job while the guys were working and one of the courses you are taking this semester is kicking your butt. With the whirlwind that it has been over the last few weeks, you and the guys had decided to have this weekend off for everyone so all of you can catch up, relax and especially indulge in some much-needed little-caregiver time.

You were really looking forward to this and couldn’t wait for the guys to get home. Unfortunately, you still did have a little bit of waiting to do as they drove home. You decide to heat up the food you made for everyone, having had decided to wait for them to eat dinner together. Although, you didn’t think it would be past midnight by the time they got home. You didn’t mind though, since you hadn’t really realized the time anyway as you worked on some assignments. You also got yourself a glass of water, knowing the guys would inquire about water and food and quite frankly, you had not done a very good job in either department about looking after yourself.

You can’t help but smile as soon as you hear the door open, resisting your urge to run to them and jumping up and down like a kid in a candy store. But even if you did it, it was justified because this was better than a whole candy store. Okay, maybe not a whole candy store but definitely a trip to the candy store.

“Hey, princess.” Derek grinned as he pulled you into a hug after dropping his bag by the door, but you could see how tired he was as you hugged him.

“Darling…” Aaron pulled you out from Derek’s arms and into his, squeezing you tight before you pulled away and hugged Spencer, knowing he wouldn’t have spoken up.

“How was the trip back home? I have dinner heated up, we can eat and talk?” You say, turning around in Spencer’s arms.

“You,” Spencer kisses your cheek as Derek and Aaron smile at you before starting to move to the kitchen, “are the most amazing, beautiful, and caring girlfriend ever. I can’t believe we got this lucky.”

You giggle as you pull away from him, pulling him to the kitchen where the other two are already setting up and getting the food plated. “You’re only saying that because I’m feeding you.”

“Never!” All three chirp in, making everyone laugh.

Everyone stands around the kitchen counter, eating your home-cooked lasagna as you talked about anything and everything with each other, forgetting how tiring the last few weeks had been.

Well, that is until Derek’s phone rings, breaking the trance. Derek goes out to answer it, letting the three of you be.

“Hey guys,” Derek comes in, looking a little serious as he came back in after a few minutes, “it was Ace.”

You can see everyone turning serious at that, including yourself. Ace is one of the littles in your local community as somewhat of a friend. He is in a relationship with a caregiver, Jason, and another little, Jenny. The four of you have never liked Jason and have warned Ace and Jenny about the same but the two of them said that they loved Jason and were not willing to discuss it with any of you. That had drawn a drift between the friendship but you had made it clear that if they ever needed any of you, you were just a call away.

“What happened?” Aaron is the first to ask.

“Apparently, things have been going bad and they need to get out. Jenny is involuntarily regressing and Ace has been struggling. They need a place for a few days.”

“They are more than welcome here, they know that,” Spencer says, making Aaron nod in agreement.

“I just wanted to ask everyone if they are okay with this before I tell them that they can come over,” Derek said, looking at you for final approval.

“Of course, they can stay with us! They are our friends!” You speak up, not really thinking about what it would mean for the weekend you had planned.

A few hours later, a regressed Jenny was sleeping on your couch while Ace, you, and the guys went over how to best help the two. It was decided that it would be a regressed weekend for all three of us as Ace had been struggling a lot too.

You were none too happy about it as it meant that you would basically be having a little sleepover, something you have never done before.

After figuring out where everyone would be sleeping, Ace and you were sent to bed while the guys cleaned up and put Jenny to bed. You tried to wait up a little to see if one of the guys would come with you to kiss you goodnight but only got hugs and a nudge to get to bed, just like Ace. Thankfully, the exhaustion from your long shifts at your jobs helped put you to sleep almost immediately, reminding you that you needed to tell the guys that you had gotten a second job at some point.

The next morning was… horrible to say the least. You woke up with a migraine, probably a result of your lack of self-care over the last few weeks. Jenny seemed to be in baby space and kept crying loudly unless one of your caregivers was holding her. Ace was… like a way too energetic toddler, to put it nicely as he threw tantrum after tantrum, broke a bowl because it wasn’t the one he chose as it was your favorite, and wouldn’t eat anything the guys made until after they had made it.

All you wanted to do was stay in bed after realizing what the situation was downstairs. Unfortunately for you, the guys never allowed you to stay in bed past nine without a good reason. And with how annoyed, tired, and frustrated they were, you almost felt bad for Derek as he came into your room and almost yelled at you to get out of bed, not waiting to hear what you had to say as he was called back downstairs.

This weekend was supposed to be peaceful and relaxing for everyone and so far, it had been anything but. And it didn’t get any better as the day progressed. The guys were preoccupied with Ace and Jenny while you kept to yourself, studying in your room, after getting an unfair timeout because you didn’t want to give Ace your favorite stuffed bear after the way he had been so playing badly with your other toys. Yeah, being little was out of the question after that.

You knew that the guys were trying their best here and that Ace and Jenny deserved this regression time as much as you if not more but you couldn’t help but feel hurt and neglected. You were trying your best to be nice and welcoming but it was hard for you too and it felt like that wasn’t being acknowledged either. After the disastrous day, you hoped that tomorrow would be better as the guys came into the room to kiss you goodnight and read you a bedtime story with an apology about not being able to spend enough time with you like you had been planning.

“Plans don’t always work out. It’s okay.” You shrugged with a smile.

“You are way too understanding princess.” Aaron kissed your forehead again.

“Did you get any little relaxation time at all today?” Derek asked, making you shrug again, not wanting to make them feel bad.

“Had a lot of studying to do.” You bury your face in Aaron’s chest so you don’t have to look at them. “But I’m tired now. I’m sure you guys are too. Sleep?”

The guys murmured their agreement as the four of you went to bed for the night, Derek and Spencer giving you a few more kisses before letting you get to sleep with Aaron.

The next day did not turn out good either. You were out of groceries and the guys had decided that everyone would go to the supermarket together when you offered to be big and go get them. Clearly, they didn’t like the idea even remotely. But the disaster at the supermarket definitely made them regret their decision.

Ace was running around constantly while Jenny insisted that she wanted to be holding hands with two of the guys. You were doing pretty good and you could see how grateful the guys were for it as you helped them without a ruckus. However, the manager, who was also your manager after you started working there a couple weeks ago recognized you and was all too happy to chat with you, making the guys shoot you questioning looks. Then, as you used the employee discount during checkout, Aaron finally spoke up about it.

“Since when do you work here?” Aaron asked as he put the groceries in the bag while the others got ice cream from the truck outside. “You didn’t tell us you changed your job.”

“Um… yeah… We really need to talk ab-“ You were cut off when you heard a commotion outside, seeing Derek and Spencer trying to get Ace and a crying Jenny away from Jason.

“Shit.” Aaron quickly picked up the bags before starting to make his way out after making sure that you followed him.

Everyone quickly piled up in the car, getting on our way back home. The guys checked on Ace and Jenny before everyone fell silent. After sorting out the groceries at home, Ace, Jenny, and the guys talked in their office while I cooked dinner for everyone, wanting to get a distraction.

As everyone settled down for dinner, it was announced that Ace and Jenny were going to move in with Jenny’s parents for now and that it was their last night there. You also realized that the day was coming to an end… along with the weekend. Tomorrow, you would be getting back to work and classes while the guys would be going back to work too.

While you were glad to have been there for your friends, it hurt that the chance you had gotten to relax after weeks of loneliness and stress was gone, just like that. And that night, as the others decided to have a movie night per Jenny’s request, you left and cried yourself to sleep.

Waking up to an empty bed the next day didn’t help how you felt about the weekend as you got ready to leave for work, catching a glimpse of the others asleep in the living room as you left.

The next few days were a blur of you barely being home and the guys hounding you to try and talk to you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to them but you just didn’t have time anymore. You were quite literally spending the nights at the library as you stressed over the approaching midterms, you weren’t looking after your health, you were managing events for three different societies on campus and everything was just too much. It felt like there wasn’t enough time in the day to get everything done.

You weren't sure if it was a good thing that whenever you were home, the guys weren’t. You were somewhat grateful, not wanting to confront them. But at the same time, you were feeling lonely and guilty for not being there for the guys.

It wasn’t long before the guys put there foot down.

As you entered the home on Friday evening, if the chatter was anything to go by, you could tell they were all home. At 2 pm. Mhm-mhm. This was not good.

“In here!” You heard Derek yell out, making it certain that there was no running away from this.

You take your time, putting your things away before going to the kitchen where the guys were standing around the counter, snacking on some chips and popcorn.

“Hey darling.” Aaron gave you a side hug, kissing your forehead. “We need to talk.”

“Let me give her a hug first!” Derek exclaimed before coming to you and pulling you into a bear hug, making your eyes water. You didn’t realize how touch starved you were until now. You hugged him back tighter, trying to keep your tears at bay.

“Oh baby.” Derek hugs you tighter when he feels your tears wetting his shirt as you bury your face in his chest.

“Is she okay?” You hear Spencer whisper, before you pull away and nod, going to stand by him and giving him a side hug.

“I’m okay, just tired. And missed you guys.” You mumble as Spencer pulls you into a proper hug.

“Turn her around Spence.” You hear Aaron instruct Spencer as he turns you around in his arms while still hugging you from behind.

“Before we start this discussion, we need you to know that we love you and this is not about us breaking up with you so don’t even let your brain go there.” Aaron gave you a look, knowing you would go to the worst-case scenario first. You nodded before speaking up, “I love you guys.”

Spencer kissed you head while Derek and Aaron gave you a smile.

“Honey, you have been pushing us away lately.” Aaron started with a sad smile.

“And you are almost never home.” Derek adds pointedly.

“Yeah… about that… I kind of took up a second job…” You cringe a little as they give you a look.

“And you are telling us that now? When did you start?” Derek asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why did you even get another job to begin with?” Spencer asks and you can hear the confusion in his voice.

You sigh as you start to explain. “My parents won’t be paying for my university anymore. They have given me access to the loan but I want to try and not use much from it.”

“You should have told us princess.” Aaron looks at you with a softened expression.

“You know we can help right?” Spencer speaks up.

“We earn more than we need anyway. We can help you pay for university.” Derek adds.

“But I don’t want you to do that. You guys already let me live here rent free.” You protest.

“I own the house, of course I’m not going to let you pay rent.” Derek shakes his head.

“Yeah but still! I don’t want to make you pay for my university too!” You protest.

“Because you feel like you owe us?” Aaron asks softly, making you look down. You don’t want to hurt them but if something were to happen in the future, you didn’t want to feel like you owed them. And university wasn’t cheap.

“What if you earn it?” Spencer asks.

“What do you mean?” You tilt you head back to look up before Spencer pulls away and turns to around again so you can look at him easily.

“Well, you look after the house when we aren’t home which takes away the burden of getting a house sitter. You keep everything clean while we are gone too and help us with chores during other times. This way, we will be paying for the chores and house sitting you are doing for us.” Spencer explains while everyone listens intently, Aaron and Derek nodding along.

“That’s actually a good idea. We can even come up with a pay rate for it. And if we come back from somewhere and the house isn’t clean, then we can deduct from that pay.” Derek adds.

“I agree. Does that sound fair to you darling?” Aaron speaks up as you lean on the counter, biting your lip as you contemplate.

“I mean… yeah I guess that sounds fair. But I still don’t love it.” You bite your lip nervously before Spencer pulls it out, kissing you cheek softly.

“You can still keep doing one of your jobs. We just don’t want you to overwork yourself sweetheart.” Aaron gives you a soft smile, making you smile at them.

“Gosh, how did I get so lucky with you guys.” You think out loud.

“I think it might have a lot to do with your word vomit during your field trip at the bureau.” Spencer teases, making you blush as you are reminded of the first time you met.

“Okay, now that that is cleared up, you need to regress.” Derek says with a somewhat stern look.

“I need to email my manager and hand in my two week notice first. And I have a meeting with my drama society execs tonight. So… I don’t think today is a good idea.” You explain.

“Well, get the email to your manager done. After that, you are eating a snack and then taking a nap before your meeting.” Aaron directs you, making you smile at the instructions.

“After that, the rest of the weekend is ours and you are not getting out of regression this weekend. And we are also making you a regression schedule so you have scheduled relaxation times.” Derek adds.

“We will try to be there as much as we can, but if we aren’t then we will constantly be checking in over call.” Aaron says, leaning forward on the counter.

“We also need to apologize.” Spencer interrupts. “Last weekend, it was supposed to be our weekend. You were amazing through out the weekend even though we seemed to have neglected to look after you the way we had planned.”

“Spencer is right. We should have been more attentive towards you last weekend.” Aaron adds, nodding. “We are sorry honey.”

“Yeah, babygirl. We should have done a lot better. Forgive us?” Derek gives you a soft smile.

“Hmm…” You act like you are thinking. “Only if I get to stay up tonight.”

“Nope. You can have an extra scoop of ice cream but bed time isn’t budging.” Spencer said right away while Aaron and Derek nodded in agreement.

“Okay fine.” You pouted playfully but giggled as Aaron attacked you with tickles, trying to run away as Derek tried to save you and Spencer joined Aaron in trying to tickle you.

The rest of your night was the best one all week. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#criminal minds x y/n #little!reader x caregiver!spencer reid #little!reader #little reader #caregiver!hotch x little!reader #criminal minds x little reader #little!reader x caregiver!derek morgan #little!reader x caregiver!hotch #criminal minds agere #criminal minds

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alicelufenia · 28 days

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A Guide To Keeping Wyll And Karlach After Siding With Minthara In Act 1

Or as I like to call it, how to permanently recruit Karlach and Wyll (because I have yet to complete a full playthrough with both of them)

Ever since Larian added a way to legitimately recruit Minthara by knocking her out, I've wanted to help the community be more successful in their efforts to give my favorite drow yet another concussion. Because like all things related to Minthara, the KO method was buggy as hell, non-intuitive, and metagamey as fuck. I wrote multiple guides on it, to the point where I made the master post my pinned for a while. You may have seen it at some point, but here it is again for reference [x]

As happy as I am with the success of those posts, it's time I revealed my true alignment. I'm actually one of those scary Minthara stans who has killed the grove more times than siding with the tieflings. I know, you'd never guess by looking at my blog (don't look at my blog) I did it my first playthrough and it's only gotten easier since. And while I stand by it as the single best way to experience Minthara's character and story arc, I'm not so cold-hearted as to deny that it's a shame we miss out on Wyll and Karlach in the process.

So rather than play the villain, what say we have them stick around by taking on the REAL villains of Act 1:

The Druids

To start off, you'll want both Wyll and Karlach in your party, and Withers in camp. I've had him show up upon crossing one of the bridges in Act 1, either to the blighted village or the goblin camp, I forget which, or you can bust him out of his Dank™ crypt. Proceed through Act 1 as normal. To be safe I got as much approval from them as I could in early game, but that may not be necessary. Offer to kill Kagha for Zevlor.

Now, both of them need to die, and preferably not by the hand of your party members. I had them suicide charge the gnolls and get wrecked, as on Tactician mode they'll attack downed party members until they're dead. I don't know if having them jump off a cliff works, but it might. We need to entrust them to Withers by asking him to look after their bodies instead of reviving them. Their bodies will then appear in camp by their tents.

Now go kill Kagha without revealing the shadow druid conspiracy. This should trigger the Druids to start fighting the Tieflings, which will happen off screen as you deal with Kagha and the few druids inside with her (killing Nettie earlier might make this easier in case she joins in. She tried to poison you, so serves her right.)

Steal that idol! I'm not 100% sure this is required, but it takes no effort at this point and you need to sit tight for a minute, so might as well.

Also if you thought you could return the idol to Mol, no luck, she won't accept it until the fighting ends. Unfortunately all the tieflings need to die for this to work, so rip Ring of Protection. But not exactly rip the tiefling kids, more on that in a minute.

OOF, rip Dammon (and most of Karlach's questline. Don't look at me like that, it's Larian's fault for tying her entire story onto one npc and giving nothing as an alternative)

I'll give the tieflings credit, they did not go down without one hells of a fight. This bear was found burnt to death, probably due to Zevlor.

Damn, they really killed all of them. I wanna point out this can happen even on a good playthrough with the best of intentions.

In the end, only four(!) druids survived. I don't know how they'd fare with Kagha fighting too, but overall I'd say the druids talk big for doing this badly against a bunch of unarmed civilians. We kill the last four of them, then get ready to move on.

With trepidation, I go to check on the kids. Not recommended if you raid the grove for real, but here:

It's just... empty. No bodies, no npcs hanging around, they completely cleared out.

I like to headcanon that Mol followed through on protecting her kids, and they escaped down this hole. I'm still very early in this run used for testing, so I have legit no idea if they show up later. But this is good enough for me to include them all in my fanfiction so :D Congrats, the only tieflings with rights (sorry Karlach!) are gonna be alright (because if we don't see a body it doesn't count)

Next step is to just... keep going. Sazza can get you into the goblin camp no problem, and if you play a Drow or have Shadowheart use disguise self, you can gain entry without any checks or dialogue. My half elf needed to talk her way in (or just use AUTHORITY)

best goblin btw

MOMMY

Lookit how happy she is after Sazza has brought her the grove's location! A lead on the weapon AND another True Soul AND she's concussion-free? Everything's coming up Minthy!

It's at this point things get a little weird (I did warn ya), as the game now has flagged the grove as "raided" even though we haven't done an actual grove battle, which is a different thing (as I'll demonstrate later), so Shadowheart has her "post-raid" dialogue when we wake up on the next long rest. The Raid The Grove quest is also marked as Completed, but still has a marker on the map. Have patience, return to the grove and walk through the (destroyed) gate, and suddenly:

The quest will update, and direct you to speak with Minthara in the secluded chamber where she normally is at when the raid is finished. There's also goblins milling about the grove now, same as the post-raid grove.

Get someone who looks at you the way Minthara looks at a cave full of dead druids and tieflings.

"No Minthara, I never meant for any of this to happen. This was all my fault, I shouldn't have gotten involved, they're all dead because of me-"

"Nevermind I am no longer morally conflicted about all this."

To the goblin party!

LIES. He never mentions it again lmao. C'mon patch 7 fix this! (you won't)

Why we're all really here 🥰

The next morning, speak to Withers and ask to collect your dead party members. He will have you confirm payment for their resurrection.

And it works! Karlach and Wyll are back, they can rejoin the party, and their approval is Unchanged!

Since I was on a roll, I went ahead and checked a few other scenarios: what happens if we don't start a fight with the druids and just raid the grove directly, with Karlach and Wyll dead? Well you can revive them afterwards, but...

Dang, Wyll still leaves (he's still so nice about it though! Even wishes you well!)

Meanwhile Karlach: Feck off, cunt.

Well, she's not leaving, but she's never been this blunt or cold towards me before. I wonder how much-

Damn, -49?! That's literally one away from leaving permanently! She started at 50, which means Karlach looses 100 approval from raiding the grove, and being dead doesn't change that. I think the only reason she's at -49 instead of -50 is due to that +1 from reviving a party member. So, she's grateful for being brought back to life, but not happy about anything else. You know what, that's fair.

One last thing I tested (and no pics for it cause this post has reached its limit! But those extra pics of Sharp-Eye Sluck are important, so I'll just write this next part out) I wanted to see if it was even necessary to finish off the remaining druids after they killed all the tieflings. So I left the grove (manually, you have to journey quite a distance before it lets you fast travel, almost all the way to the first bridge) and headed to the goblin camp to start the raid as normal.

Like our first time, we arrive at an empty grove. Even the druids we left behind are gone, meaning you can safely headcanon this method as joining up with the goblins and Minthara to take revenge on the druids. The game still acts like you killed the tieflings though, down to Gale's threatening to leave.

But Karlach and Wyll still get brought back without a problem! You can even revive them DURING the goblin party and they'll act like nothing's happened!

Wyll And Karlach Recruited Alongside Raiding With Minthara: Success!

So Baldur's Gate 3 community! I now implore you to put down your Pommel Strikes, switch off that Non-Lethal toggle, and stop giving poor Minthara even more brain damage than the tadpole and the Absolute already gave her!

And when you reach Moonrise Towers to rescue her, for the love of Selûne, when the guards are torturing her in the prison, don't just swing on them. Agree to enter her mind first. You'll have a dicey roll to deal with, but trust me, it's SUPER worth it!

As for the whole process, well. Despite the clunky way quests update after you start the grove civil war, the resulting lack of direction and narrative inconsistencies in the dialogue post-goblin party, this still feels like a more immersive way to recruit Minthara on a run with both Karlach and Wyll still present, than the KO method, in my not-so-humble opinion.

Consider this: You've got a major twist in the Act 1 plot now, with the Druids turning on you and killing the tieflings you were trying to help, leaving your party dispirited and lacking direction, other than to continue their search for a cure, which leads them to meet the Absolutists, the goblins, and the drow commander leading them and looking for the druids' sanctuary. And in the midst of your grief and anger, you side with her, both to get close to the source of the infections (as the Dream Visitor suggests) but also to take your revenge out on the druids.

You can feel conflicted, regretful even, but the context has changed enough that I think even a good-aligned Tav with no qualms about methods can live with this result. It just takes a bit of filling in the gaps (do you simply point the goblin army at the druids and look away, or lead them yourself by Minthara's side? Either way works for the results)

The only real downside is, again, Karlach's story just sorta ends here, until the confrontation with Gortash. I personally think this is a problem with Larian's writing for her, and at this point fanfiction is about the only solution in sight. But if you don't mind her not getting the chance to touch others again, you really have nothing to lose here

Besides, were you really going to pay Dammon for that act 3 armor? Of course not, you steal it every run and don't pretend otherwise, "hero."

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greynatomy · 1 year

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soulmates

lia wälti x reader

i just started writing and came up with this. idk how i feel about it, but it was an idea.

also… writing endings are very difficult.

———

A couple years back, in a small town in Switzerland, two best friends decided to have a stroll around their town. They come across a very familiar park that they’ve been going to as kids.

Not far from the girls, are two boys, playing a game of football. Too occupied in their game, they didn’t see the two girls, who also weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, and ran into them, literally.

The boys quickly get off the ground, dusting themselves off and offering a hand to each lady.

“We are sorry about that.” One of the boys said.

“We weren’t paying attention.” The other saying.

“Oh, it’s alright.”

“We weren’t paying attention ourselves.”

This was the start of four friends’ unbreakable bond.

Over the years, the four grew up together. If you see one of them, the other three aren’t too far behind. Each girl eventually fell in love with one of the boys, same with the boys.

They finished school, got married, moved into houses right next to each other and to no one’s surprise, the girls fell pregnant at the same time.

Two girls.

Born within a month of each other.

Two girls who would grow up being best friends. You both would become inseparable. Always attached to the hip.

You started preschool together, eventually going off to kindergarten together.

One day, when you were both ten years old, under the old maple tree in her backyard, two other friends of yours are standing close together, both her hands holding onto yours.

Your parents watch through the kitchen window, wondering what you kids were up to now. To their surprise, they watch as Lia pulled you close, like how she sees her parents do, and gave you a little kiss on the lips, pulling away, wide smiles on both your faces, your two friends clapping and cheering.

Only when the two of you ran inside the house did they understand what happened.

“We got married!” You yelled, while Lia said, “She’s my wife!” Referring to you.

The four friends looked at one another in understanding.

They created soulmates.

From then on, Lia would always refer to you as her wife. “Hi, wife.” She would often say whenever she sees you, a love struck expression on her face. You would always respond with a kiss on her cheek, caressing the other with your hand.

You both were quite young, but old enough to know what love was, as both your parents were the examples you had to know about what love was.

Unfortunately, on one summer day, your parents had informed you of your move. Having to move away to another country. Away from Lia.

Your twelve year old self immediately ran towards her house, never needing to knock, straight towards her room, where you found her on her bed. She already knew it was you without having to look up, but once she did, she saw tears staining your cheeks.

“What’s wrong?”

“Papa said that we’re moving away. I don’t want to move away.”

All Lia could do is hug you tight and not let go.

When the time came, everyone promised that they would communicate and not lose contact of each other. It could be the first time in years that the best friends would no longer be together.

Lia gives you one last kiss and you hope it wouldn’t be the last.

You ended up in the United States, telling Lia through letters which you send through the post, Lia doing the same. But as the years go on, the letters eventually stopped when you were fourteen. You cried for a week straight, mourning what could be the ending of a beautiful friendship.

———

You were now thirty years old, who’ve accomplished so much and made a name for yourself. You became a professor at Stanford, teaching about the wonders of science, becoming quite popular to students.

Lia of course became a force in the world of football. You were never one for sports m, but you aren’t ashamed to admit that you’ve kept up with her career, cheering her on through the television.

It’s been sixteen years since your last contact with her, you don’t know whether she still remembers you or not, but she was someone you couldn’t exactly forget.

You did hear that the Arsenal women’s team would be playing a match in Los Angeles, so you asked for a few days off and made your journey all the way down.

You were lucky enough to get tickets close to the field. Watching Lia play in person for the first time was quite the experience. You cheered for her as loud as you could, cringing whenever she was tackled down.

Arsenal ended up wining 1-0 with an assist from Wälti. The team made their rounds around the stadium, thanking as much of their supporters as they can. You stayed in your seat, eyes following her as fans started filtering out, you being one of the last ones still there.

“Hello, Miss.” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by security.

“Yes?”

“I was informed that I needed to escort you down to the locker room.” You didn’t really know what was happening, but you did follow him. “Just go right in there.” He points to a door.

You walk through the door to be met with the whole team of Arsenal, who quieted down once they saw you. You stand awkwardly in front of everyone as they stare at you.

“Hi, um, did you get lost?” Someone asked.

“Uh, I don’t think so? I followed some security person.”

“Hi, wife.”

You snap your head to the left so fast it could’ve given you whiplash. You turn you whole body to face her, her standing so close to you. Slowly, you lift your right hand to her cheek, caressing it with your thumb as she nuzzles into it, your lips finding its place on the other, the familiar gesture makes the midfielder starts to tear up.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“How could I forget our wedding under the maple tree?”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

“You know,” Lia began. “I’ve been waiting for the day I see you again.”

“How come?”

“Because I wanna make it real?”

“Make what real?”

“You being my wife.”

You and Lia were in your own bubble, completely forgetting about the rest of the team that surrounds you, who has never seen the love struck look on Lia’s face until now.

“What’s going on?” Caitlin asks, confused as the rest of the team is.

“This is my wife, and we’re gonna make sure it is not fake this time.”

At this moment, you felt like you were back in Switzerland, under the maple tree in her backyard, Lia by your side.

Two souls who lost their way, back together again.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #lia walti #lia wälti #lia walti x reader #lia wälti x reader

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hobiespick · 4 months

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Sam Winchester x reader headcanons part 2

<33

a/n : fuck it we ball sammy headcanons part 2, I made a shit ton of them (yeehaw i made another moodboard) hope you guys like my shitty thoughts (i am acting so nonchalant but i am actually shaking i'm so goddamn nervous) , thank you sm for all the likes and feedback ! Enjoy!

Summary : Headcanons I wrote for Sam x reader (can be read as gn!reader), very few are abt Dean, mention of Sam's childhood, Sam being head over heels for u, Sam being flirty, the reader is mentioned to be shorter/smaller than Sam.

-He carries around your hairties: around his wrists, the pockets of his brown jacket or his wallet - buys Dean bubblegum air fresheners for baby. - he's a communist so his favourite icecream flavour is berry - he is the one to tell you to please call him Sammy. You've never dared to call him that, you know he doesn't let anybody else call him that besides dean, your last wish is to make him uncomfortable or annoyed. Infantilizing a 6'4 man would be the most emmbarassing way to get dumped. - you would rather fall face first into the ground than actually call him that - so when it's a lazy day and you’re both laying in his bed (u were physically dragged there by the giant) you hear Sam mutter something tiredly in your neck as his koala grip on your waist gets tighter. "What was that?" You ask softly. He has to drag his head up and look at you his hazel eyes seem dark brown due to the lighting in the room and his hair is messy, strands sticking up and down, he looks adorable. "You can call me Sammy" he repeats himself clearly voice lower than usual but geniune as he rubs the back of his knuckles over his eyes. You smile fondly at him, "Ok" you reply using the same soft voice as if you replied with a voice any louder than that you would ruin his sleepy state. He nudges his head back into your neck with a satisfied sigh. You can't help but travel your hand up to his hair to run your fingers through it and kiss his temple. "Night, Sammy" you whisper. He mutters something else in your neck but you know it's 'goodnight', feeling him smile against your skin before falling asleep fast, a result of the level of trust he has in you.

- avril lavigne enjoyer (he is a teenage girl your honor) - you bother him with psyhological questions to scare him or something but he answers them with the same amount of melancholy for shits and giggles - he is a feminist

- really really likes sarcastic people, playing along with you, just shooting back snarky replies at eachother (he is flirting)

- likes being one of the very few people you trust - he also gets unconciously close to you - you both could be in a large room (inside a haunted house probably) and he would still be right behind you, glued to you like a gum to a shoe - can you imagine not paying attention and walking right into him - me personally I would break my nose, have you seen his chest? holy fuck

- that one time you mouthed off a victims relative for not giving a fuck about his missing son but he got verbally agressive quick and Sam had to swoop in and save your ass, putting himself infront of you shielding you from the vic's relative calming the situation down Imediately. - Dean unfortunately wasn't there, he was checking out some place where the vic might have been before they went missing, it was just you and Sam supporting (interrogating) the family - I am mentioning this because if Dean was in fact there things would escalate fast, you're basically his little sister.

- Dean probably loved indiana Jones as a kid ( dunno if this is canon or not I am on szn 2)

- you and sam were asking eachother questions, getting to know one another to pass the time once on some kind of stake out. - you asked him what was his favorite stuffed animal as a kid - he said he doesn't remember. (*sounds of uncontrolable sobbing coming from me n u*) - he asked you what was yours to change the subject - he would lie if he said that it didn't bother him, not remembering something normal people can easily recall from their childhoods - you replied back with your kid self fav stuffie smilling at the memory but feeling bad for Sam , heart aching at his confession - "i'm sorry you don't remember Sam." you say geniunely, how can someone be robbed of such a normal thing everyone should have? You've never wanted to buy someone a stuffed animal as bad as you do now. I know I am the one talking about "infantilizing a 6'4 man" but please, I can allow to contradict myself just this once. - he asked another question to shrug it off, he usually doesn't want anybody's pity, but yours felt honest, almost like his past hurt you too and he can't help but have the perverted need to tell you all about his fucked childhood, to have you hug him, maybe he was selfish and wanted desperately to be comforted by you. - "What was your favourite book when you were 13?" He skips past the subject quickly with an oddly specific question because he is Sam

- remembers Dean to drink water, Dean does the same with Sam just not verbally. Dean leaves water bottles where Sam can see them and Sam pretends to not notice it smilling to himself everytime he opens them and takes a sip

- gets some kind of sick twisted amusement from seeing you flustered (i'm so sorry I was literally talking about childhood trauma a min ago and now Sam is flirty) - example, you theorize with Sam about the monster you're having trouble identifying, he also can't hear you and you literally started muttering to yourself like a mad scientist, so to kill two birds with one stone he leans in dangerously close, looks you in the eye with a stoic expression and has the audacity to say "Hm? I'm sorry I can't hear you sweetheart." In his low drawl, LAWD HATH MERCY AHSHSBHAGA - he breaks character and smiles when he sees you get pulled out from your pondering haze - "M-might be a vengefull spirit." You repeat yourself, that little stutter and faint crimson on your cheeks shattering your whole 'badass, intimidating hunter' thingy you got going on in a matter of seconds, feeding his ego with a spoon.

- thinks it's cute when you and Dean act like siblings.

- he always knows what you need. "Sammy can you please give me my-" and you’re cut off by the sight of Sam already holding your sweater, the item of clothing looking ridiculously smaller in his hands. and if you jokingly ask him to put it on you too he just might (he is that head over heels for you) - if you ask him how did he know you wanted your sweater he would reply with something along the lines of "I saw it in my visions." sarcastic little shi- - he saw you running your hands up and down your arms before asking him - and since he is boyfriend coded, it's in his instinct to know what to do

- if he was feeling cute he would've enveloped you in a bear hug in order to warm you up.

- if you see him reading please pick up that unread book i know u have on your nightstand and read beside him. It can be your lil cute routine, can you imagine he just drags u to the couch or his bed, holding 2 books one of yours and one of his because it's comfy reading time, oh you're alone doing nothing? nah BAM QUALITY TIME BIATCH

a/n: kinda lost sleep because of these but it's fine, I also think imma post and write for fun ,still learning the ropes of writting but uh yeah, again hope you guys like these feedback would be very much appreciated! 🫶

#sam winchester x reader #spn #dean winchester #supernatural #jared padalecki #supernatural fanfiction #jensen ackles #supernatural headcanon

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grimsonandclover · 14 days

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inspired by @artdcnaldson

He Might Not Be the Best, But He Beat the Best.

My chat with Patrick Zweig, the man rumored to be responsible for tennis player Art Donaldson's sudden retirement. There's more to the story than meets the eye, though. By Grimson Clover PUBLISHED: NOV 13, 2019

Patrick Zweig, a man of both few and many words. He’s shaking my hand eagerly as we meet at a familiar spot for him: the same tennis court he played on two months ago against the legendary Art Donaldson.

We’re in New Rochelle, and if you’ve never heard of it, don’t worry because I hadn’t either (it’s a suburb in New York City, in case you were wondering). We sit on fold-out chairs by the net– the very one Art Donaldson soared over at that now iconic match, Patrick stunned with arms wide open and catching him. We all gasped, right?

Despite the steadily declining temperatures, it is November in New York, Patrick Zweig presents himself before me in a pair of plaid, red and gray, knee-length shorts to pair with a black quarter-zip sweater. An interesting combination I point out to him, and he gives me a good and friendly laugh. “My closet is ninety percent shorts, five percent jeans, five percent sweats.”

Clover Grimson Sweater from The Gap; shorts from Old Navy; shoes by New Balance.

“No sponsors? Most athletes I talk with are covered head to toe in logos like walking billboards.” Surely enough, his clothes are bare of any obnoxious or out-of-place brand insignia. He gives me another good chuckle and a shake of his head, and I’ve never felt better about myself. “No, no. I used to– earlier in my career– have a few sometimes. Not nowadays though, haven't gotten any emails yet!”

Some readers may be wondering why I’m sitting here today with this seemingly random tennis player. Though he’s undoubtedly skilled, and won the Phil’s Tire Town challenger against tennis god and heartthrob Art Donaldson (occasionally referred to as Mr. Tashi Duncan, his wife and coach, by some fans), he’s also only ranked 227th in the world compared to Donaldson’s impressive place at 13th. They’re worlds apart, and yet Patrick won and Art announced his retirement to the world last week.

“It’s not so shocking.” Patrick reasons to me, one well-loved New Balance sneaker resting on top of the other as he gets comfortable in his chair. “The retirement, I mean.” He adds quickly with a sly smirk, and I begin to wonder if that’s really all he meant. I push him to elaborate, and that smirk of his grows even wider. He doesn’t want to explain further, but he lets me know that he knew it was coming. Something about him knowing Art like that.

He asks if I smoke (I don't) as he pulls a pack of blue Camels. Athletes are meant to treat their bodies like sacred temples, but he’s far from the first I’ve met who shared his vice.

Initially, I was trying to interview the current topic of our conversation. Unfortunately for me, my email was simply replied to with: “Thank you for the invite, but Art and Tashi Donaldson are declining any press and interviews at the moment as they focus on their family.” When I turned to his opponent, I got a response almost right away. Some might think in an act of desperation or want for attention, and to trash talk the man he beat, but I don’t get that impression when I speak with Patrick. He’s almost hesitant to speak about Art, only giving away bits and crumbs of info for my journalistic fingers to scramble and grasp at. Patrick tells me how they went to the same tennis academy as kids, a boarding school of sorts. “Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy,” he says with an air of nostalgia. "It's in Florida, we were roommates."

Perhaps it's because I'm personally not a tennis mega-fan, but I was unaware that the two knew each other previously, let alone went that far back. I ask him what it was like, and he tells me stories of late-night pranks amongst the boys' dorms, first crushes and first injuries, and intense coaches. "It was great, truly. I'd never trade those years for anything." Patrick concludes along with his cigarette. "Art was a little dork back in those days, but you'd never be able to tell looking at him now." He confesses to me with a chuckle, and he's right-- you wouldn't. I struggle to picture the man before me any bit dorkish, either. When I ask him if he knew Tashi Donaldson (née Duncan), a former tennis star before a terrible knee injury in 2007 and now renowned coach that players kill for a chance to be in the same room as, as well, and he shrugs. "I've talked to her once or twice."

He refuses to talk about her further than that, and we move on to the match itself. From what I know, Art Donaldson was a wildcard entry coming in last minute. "I had no clue he was gonna be there. Chance encounter, I guess." Patrick tells me as we walk around the court and surrounding lawn. He's lit a second cigarette and it dangles from his lips as he speaks. I'm about to ask him about how it felt to suddenly find out he was going to compete against a U.S. Open winner at a place like Phil's Tiretown, but he was already ahead of me. "When I found out, which was the morning before, I was a little shocked. Not really the kind of thing you'd expect a guy like him to be at."

For good reason. Art has been to Wimbledon, won a Juniors title at the US Open in 2006 (With Patrick, actually. They were doubles partners), and later again in 2017. He's rumored to have a room just for his countless trophies, though that's a rumor his wife dispelled in an Architectural Digest video last year. When asked why he joined the challenger, Art Donaldson simply stated he needed the confidence. Fan theories online suggest this lack of confidence and losing the challenger led to his retirement announcement, though no official comment has been made about why.

I ask Patrick about his plans regarding his career. He's young, only thirty-one, but that's retirement age in tennis. He stops under a tree, and with the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves onto his face, I almost forget he's not actually a male model. "I'm trying to find a good coach, and I think I've found one. I don't plan on retiring until they stop letting me onto the court."

#challengers #patrick zweig #art donaldson #tashi duncan #challengers 2024 #josh o'connor #mike faist #challengers fic #fake article #patrick zweig fic #he fucked the interviewer afterwards

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sidekick-hero · 2 months

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I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her

Written for @steddieangstyaugust day 3, prompt “The sunset looks lovely, don’t you think?”

tags: future fic, pining, not actually unrequited love, angst with a happy ending, Eddie Munson needs a hug

words: 2.5k | AO3 | rated: teen

Eddie had sworn to himself that he was done being a coward. He didn’t run from the demo-bats, and he wouldn’t run away ever again.

That’s why he decided to call Paige once he got out of the hospital in 1986. Years had passed since things ended rather abruptly and dramatically between them. He had left her hanging, even though there hadn’t been much he could have done about it, what with his dad dragging him into his shitshow of a criminal life. She still had paid his bail when he was arrested because of his dad’s scheming, even though he couldn’t join her in LA to audition for her boss, a famous music producer.

He never properly thanked her, never really talked things through. The pain, the bitterness, the shame were too big, too oppressive.

They cleared the air between them, and Eddie decided to use his hush money to pay Paige back and make the trip to LA, a few years later than planned.

Rekindling their old flame seemed like the logical thing to do, especially when Eddie managed to score another audition. While his music career took off, their relationship did not. Too much had happened, and they both changed over the last three years.

But they remained friends. Still are, in fact. She was one of the first people he came out to as bisexual. While his friendship with Robin and Steve had grown substantially since their shared adventures—nightmares, more like—Paige didn’t have a clear picture of who Eddie was supposed to be. The risk seemed smaller somehow.

Now, ten years later, he’s out and proud, thanks to men like Freddy Mercury and David Bowie, who made being a bisexual man in the music world somewhat acceptable. It still isn’t easy, but he’s happy.

Well, mostly happy.

Even though he’s a successful rockstar now, he still makes time to see the kids, who are all over the country. Dustin is in Boston with Nancy, Jonathan, and Will. Lucas and Max are back in California, so he sees them the most—he even officiated their wedding. Mike and El are still in Indiana, close to Hopper and Joyce in Hawkins.

He also visits his uncle Wayne, of course. And when he makes the trip West, he always stops by Chicago to spend time with Robin and Steve. They come to his shows whenever they can, sometimes making a vacation out of it, like when he played in New York.

They’re all still close, even if they don’t see each other as often as they’d like. So Eddie’s unfortunate crush on Steve Harrington never had a chance to fully go away. Every time Steve walks towards him with a blinding smile and wraps him in a tight, too-short hug, the butterflies in his stomach wake from their winter sleep.

There had been a few times over the years when Eddie thought that maybe, just maybe, Steve felt the same way. Like the morning of Joyce and Hopper’s wedding in 1989. They had bought a house together that was almost, but not quite, big enough to house everyone, so Steve and Eddie had shared a bed. Eddie had woken up in Steve’s arms, his chest pressed against Eddie’s back and a noticeably hard length against his ass. Steve’s face had been in his neck, hot puffs of air brushing against Eddie’s skin with each breath.

It had been the sweetest torture. Eddie convinced himself it was just a natural reaction to another body in bed with him, but when Steve woke up, he didn’t scramble away or push Eddie off. Instead, he stroked Eddie’s bare arm and murmured, “Morning,” in his ear. Then, he’d shifted back a bit so Eddie could turn around, searching his gaze. The air between them crackled with electricity, a tension so thick Eddie could barely swallow.

“Eddie,” Steve had begun, just as a pounding on the door startled them both. They jumped apart quickly before Henderson barged into the room, urging them to hurry up and get dressed because everyone was waiting for them.

Another time, in 1991, Steve had visited Eddie in LA without Robin, whose girlfriend had invited her to meet her parents. They spent a whole week together, swimming in the ocean, walking along the beach, and going to a few clubs where they danced with each other in ways you never could in Hawkins. At the end of that week, Steve held him for a long, long time, seemingly unwilling to let Eddie go when they said goodbye at the airport. They had to call his name over the speaker system to make him let go of Eddie.

The last time Eddie wondered if Steve could ever feel the same for him had been almost two years ago. Steve had called him while Eddie was in Europe. When Eddie answered, he’d just come back from the aftershow party of his concert in Berlin.

“Guten Tag,” he had jokingly greeted Steve, expecting at least a low chuckle, but Steve sounded… off.

“Eds, hi. Sorry that I’m bothering you so late—”

“You could never bother me, Stevie,” Eddie reassured him immediately because he was pretty sure there wasn’t any time Steve couldn’t call and Eddie wouldn’t want to speak to him.

“Okay.” Steve still sounded off, causing worry to creep up on Eddie.

“What is it? Did something happen? Are you okay? Is Robin?” Eddie bombarded him with questions, suddenly sure something horrible must have happened.

“No, nothing happened. We’re all fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s just… I’m calling because I met someone. A woman,” he clarified, as if it could have been anything else. The golden boy of Hawkins wouldn’t call because of a man, now would he? “It’s getting pretty serious. I’m thinking about moving in with her.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know you were seeing someone. That’s… that’s great, Stevie. I’m happy for you.”

“You are?”

“Yes, of course! Why wouldn’t I be? That’s what you always wanted, right? Someone to marry, to have your six lil’ nuggets with. Aren’t you happy?”

Steve hesitated for a long moment, and Eddie had just started to wonder if they got disconnected when he finally answered. “I guess.”

“You… guess? That doesn’t sound very enthusiastic.”

There was something Eddie wasn’t getting, he was sure of it.

“Do you ever feel like you’re looking at everything you’ve done, everything you worked toward, everything you thought you wanted to be, and wonder if that’s really you or just something that was expected of you, so you made it your whole personality?”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know what Steve needed to hear. He could be selfish and tell Steve that maybe he didn’t have to be the poster boy anymore, that he didn’t need to marry a woman and have a hoard of Harringtons with her to have a family who loves him unconditionally. But he would only be saying that to cling to the unobtainable dream of Steve and him for a bit longer, and maybe it was time Eddie faced reality.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to be supportive. “Steve, if she makes you happy, then you should go for it. You deserve to have someone who makes you feel loved. You’ve been through enough to not take a shot at happiness, right? If it’s what you really want, don’t let doubts get in the way.”

“So you think I should go for it?” Steve asked, and Eddie couldn’t place the tone of his voice.

“Yes, I think you should. You deserve your fairy tale ending, Stevie. The knight in shining armor should get the pretty princess, right?”

Steve sighed, and Eddie had no idea why he sounded so forlorn. “Right. Thank you, Eddie. See you at Friendsgiving at Joyce’s?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Eddie replied, meaning it. But when they hung up, he still felt like he had said the wrong thing.

At their yearly get-together on Thanksgiving, Eddie met Laura for the first time. He liked her instantly, even though she got to have what he wanted so badly. She was beautiful, smart, and had a dry sense of humor he could appreciate. And she was clearly head over heels for Steve, something Eddie could relate to.

The Eddie before March ‘86 would have begrudged her happiness with the man he was in love with. He would have been petty, maybe even cruel. He also would have run away, avoiding Steve with weak excuses. Eddie did none of these things because he had grown up and learned that some things were more important than a bruised heart.

The happiness of someone he loved, for example.

So when Steve asked him to be one of the groomsmen at his wedding, Eddie said yes.

He was done running.

On the morning of the wedding, which was supposed to be in Hawkins, because they wanted to celebrate at Joyce and Hopper’s place with the whole ‘family,’ Eddie got dressed in his fancy tuxedo with a red bow tie and even tamed his wild curls into an artful man-bun.

Eddie Munson would go through with this, no matter how much he didn’t want to.

He would not run away.

When he climbed into his rental car and started to drive towards the church in town, he was convinced that he could do this. Watch the man he was in love with marry someone else. He wouldn’t be the first person in history and certainly not the last to do it.

For Steve, he would even face the Upside Down again. What was a wedding in comparison?

It was only when he puts his car into park at the side of the path leading up to the Quarry that Eddie has to admit to himself that maybe he wasn’t done running away just yet.

Sitting on the edge of the Quarry, he lets his thoughts wander, replaying the last ten years. How many times had Steve and he sat here with a cool beer and a warm blanket, gazing at the stars and sharing everything, from comfortable silences to deep secrets? He wants Steve to be happy, but he finds that he can’t be there to witness him being happy with someone else. Eddie swears to himself as he watches the sun wander across the horizon that he’ll make it up to Steve somehow. He can’t lose Steve, he just can’t.

Eddie hopes that Steve will forgive him one day for missing one of the most important days in his life.

The day goes by quickly, the thoughts in his head running in circles enough to distract him from the passage of time or basic human needs like thirst or hunger.

“The sunset looks lovely, don’t you think?”

The voice startles him badly, almost making him lose his balance and tumble down into certain death. What a poetic way to go, if not for the strong arms steadying him.

“Easy there. Don’t have to fling yourself off a cliff just to get away from me,” Steve jokes, but it sounds strained.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes out, wonder, guilt, and shame warring inside him. Even more so when he realizes that Steve’s still in his tuxedo, looking breathtakingly handsome. “Oh God, I am so sorry, Stevie. I—”

But there are no words to explain to Steve why he couldn’t be there for his best friend’s wedding. At least none that wouldn’t be “I couldn’t watch you marry someone else.” He can’t put this weight on Steve’s shoulders. And selfishly, Eddie doesn’t think he could handle Steve looking at him differently. He wouldn’t hate Eddie for it, but he would feel bad for him, trying not to make it any harder on him. They would see each other less and less, a new distance building between them until one day, Eddie was just a guy in some old pictures and memories.

“I didn’t marry her,” Steve says into the ensuing silence, and Eddie thinks he must have heard him wrong.

Eddie's breath catches in his throat, and he turns to face Steve fully, searching his face for any sign that this is a joke or a misunderstanding. But Steve’s expression is serious, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and something else Eddie can’t quite place.

“What do you mean, you didn’t marry her?” Eddie asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Steve sighs and sits down next to Eddie, their shoulders almost touching. “I couldn’t go through with it, Eddie. I realized that I was trying to force myself into a life that wasn’t mine. I was trying to be someone I thought I should be, instead of who I really am.”

Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest, a wild mix of hope and fear. “What are you saying, Steve?”

Steve turns to look at him, eyes filled with a vulnerability Eddie rarely sees. “I’m saying that I’ve been lying to myself. And to you. I’ve spent so long trying to fit into this mold that I forgot what it was like to be truly happy. I thought marrying Laura was what I wanted, but when it came down to it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Eddie’s mind races, struggling to keep up with what Steve is saying. “Me? What about me?”

Steve takes a deep breath, as if gathering his courage. “Eddie, you’ve been a constant in my life for the last ten years. The one person except for Robin I can truly be myself around. You make me feel alive in ways no one else does. I think… No, I know that I have feelings for you. I’ve been too scared to admit it, even to myself, but I can’t keep running from it anymore.”

Eddie feels like the ground is shifting beneath him. He’s spent so long hiding his own feelings, convincing himself that they were one-sided. “Steve, I—”

But Steve cuts him off, placing a hand gently on Eddie’s cheek. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know. I couldn’t go through with marrying Laura because it wouldn’t have been fair to her. Or to me.”

Eddie leans into Steve’s touch, his heart pounding in his chest. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, Stevie. I didn’t think you could ever feel the same.”

Steve’s eyes soften, and he moves closer, their faces inches apart. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. But I’m here now, and I want to see where this can go. If you’ll have me.”

Eddie’s eyes fill with tears of relief and joy. “Of course, I’ll have you, Steve. I’ve always wanted you.”

Steve smiles, and it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds. He leans in, closing the distance between them, and their lips meet in a gentle, tentative kiss. It feels like coming home, and Eddie knows that he’ll do everything he can to never lose this feeling ever again.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie angst #steddieangstyaugust #steve harrington x eddie munson #my writing

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whateverisbeautiful · 1 month

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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#30: The Story of the Brave Man (1.04)

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

While Rick’s kids were telling stories of their dad’s brave acts, Rick was, unfortunately, being fed a story of what he needed to give his life to by Okafor. And that really complicates things in these following moments between Rick and Michonne...

After they fade to black from Richonne's compelling marital fight, they cut back to the thermostat system's voice chiming in with another fitting assessment of Richonne’s situation as it says, “Temperature control malfunction.” And again, Rick refusing to go home is most definitely an indicator of a malfunction.

Michonne looks out the window while Rick can be seen in the reflection facing away from her. And I like the way it’s filmed where we’re seeing Richonne from the outside looking in. It hammers home some of the distance they feel between them as we too watch them from a distance.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Michonne speaks and is clearly in a very reflective space as she quotes Nat and says, “'I know how it ends.'” Then it feels like a punch in my stomach every time I hear her say, “You know your son - the one you haven’t asked anything about - he calls you the Brave Man.” 🥺

That ‘the one you haven’t asked anything about’ hurts to hear every time. The first time I watched it I was still in shock that Rick hadn’t more directly addressed or asked questions regarding his son and so it was sorta surreal to hear Michonne even have to say this.

And I get Rick has a whole lot of PTSD making him scared to address it but I was still like 'Rick, I need you to stop breaking your wife’s heart ASAP.' You know that has to be so hurtful that she finally got to tell Rick about the baby they had and he hasn’t asked anything about him.

gif cred: @nat111love

That line always makes me think about one of the few things I remember from season 10 which is that beach day scene with Michonne, Judith, and RJ when RJ is asking questions about the Brave Man.

When Michonne says she’d do anything for them RJ is so adorably like “and for my dad?” Without even knowing Rick, RJ made sure his dad was still included and acknowledged, and so I was like -Rick, we can't have RJ asking more questions about you than you ask about him. 🥺

Rick does at least turn around when he hears Michonne say that their son calls him The Brave Man and it’s great finally getting to see him learn this.

Michonne has this sort of weary smile as she shares, “He and Judith tell each other the story of what you did.” And in this moment I really see a mother who loves and misses her kids and who is exhausted. 😢

She’s been through so much for her family for years but especially in the last year and now she’s going through so much since reuniting with Rick too. Like my girl is tired from trying to be strong for everyone, including Rick who is insistent on this story ending with her going home without him after fighting like hell to find him.

I think Michonne's tone here has a lot to do with the fact that she’s finally getting to tell Rick these things about their kids but she never thought it would be under these circumstances with Rick in the room but still so far away and still refusing to go home.

Then I absolutely adore the moment Michonne turns away from the window and says, “He started calling himself 'Little Brave Man'… I loved that.” It’s the cutest thing to see her have a moment of joy recalling her baby boy and the adorable nickname RJ gave himself during the last time she talked to him. 🥰

gif cred: @nat111love

And we get a quick flash of Real Rick when he has a subtle genuine smile hearing this. I love it. 🥹 It's a layered smile, both touched and pained because the news of their son is bittersweet. Their baby is such a gift and also a reminder of how much he's missed.

I feel like in this moment, despite all the walls he has up rn, hearing both that his son has this nickname that shows he wants to be like his dad and most of all seeing Michonne as a mom smile about their son actually hits Rick and makes him happy for a second.

There’s gotta be something comforting knowing that all this time Michonne really wasn’t entirely without Rick because she was out there raising his mini-me and his daughter.

I love how it feels like seeing the mother of his child smile about that and share something she loves about their son is what makes Rick not be able to help but smile about it too. And every time Rick smiles like this it reminds me of RJ. 🥹

gif cred: @nat111love

And that little smile moment was very needed...because Real Rick disappears for the rest of this conversation. 😑

So Rick sits down and it’s definitely symbolic that he has yet to change out of his CRM gear. It still has a hold on him.

Michonne again quotes Nat saying, “'I know how it ends.' Nat my friend who your people killed…” And Rick interjects to say “They’re not my damn people.” Lol. I love that. 😋

Especially cuz when I first watched I didn’t even catch how Michonne’s wording could be subtle shade but of course, as her husband, Rick immediately caught it and had to clarify. Like...

When Rick says they aren't his damn people, Michonne is like tell your actions that babe because you sure are trying to stay with those people…or at least that’s what I was thinking lol. 🙂 She brushes right past Rick’s comment and continues saying, “He said that to me once when I said I had to keep looking for you.”

Once again I was hoping this line would be something that opens Rick's eyes to the fact that Michonne was fighting to get back to him just like he was trying to get back to her. Like anything that helps him see they are equally valued in this relationship which is why asking her to leave him behind isn’t right because with the roles reversed he’d never leave her like this.

Continuing to speak on Nat, Michonne says, “He knew how it ended but he still had my back” And the way Nat supported Michonne is a big reason why we celebrate Nat always and forever over here.😇 One of the franchise’s truest friends. 👌🏽

Michonne says, “I was so sure he was wrong. But he wasn’t.” It’s interesting she’s reflecting on Nat right now and the way he thought this would end. I think this is coming up for her at this moment because she knows if she can’t convince Rick to leave with her then she’s gonna have to know when to go because, no matter what, she has to make it home to her babies either with him or devastatingly without him.

gif cred: @richardgrimes

So I think she’s just really confronted with how likely that ‘without him’ scenario could be despite previously so badly wanting to believe that now that she’s 'found' Rick going home together would be inevitable.

Then it’s another gut punch when Michonne says, “Cuz here I am. I found you. But I didn’t.” It’s really the best way to put it and heartbreaking to hear. 💔

And it’s interesting seeing Rick be silent hearing this. It’s sad because the very first thing Michonne said when reuniting with Rick was a joyous “I found you” in episode 1, but it’s been hitting her just how much her Rick is still buried under all the things he’s been through so she hasn’t found him yet.

Like I think every time they kiss she finds him for a fleeting moment but then the fear goes right back to consuming him and taking her Rick away.

gif cred: @richardgrimes

Michonne says, “This is not what I had in my head at all.” And me either because again when I tell you I imagined 1000 scenarios of the RJ reveal and none of them went this way. It had me all the way shook. 🫢 But this is why Danai is the best because she knew the perfect conflict-driven way for this to all play out. 👏🏽

Michonne then collects herself and tries to get some understanding of Rick’s dodgy logic when she says, “OK so just - just to get this straight - we just got a way out. They think we’re dead and you want to stay…stay with an army that kept you against your will for years?”

I was right there with Michonne because I was looking at Rick like...

I like how throughout this episode Michonne knows the importance of spelling things out in words. It’s helpful to hear things out loud, especially when you can hear how crazy something sounds like Rick's explanation for not going home.

Rick responds saying, “I have to make sure you’re protected.” And it is nice to hear him be so adamant about protecting her even tho of course there’s more to the story.

And Michonne knows there’s more and something else keeping him stuck when she says, “Oh that’s not it.” Rick really had me and Michonne listening to his words like...

Rick has to realize he might have been able to put on a mask with other people but Michonne knows who he is inside and out so she can fully tell that there’s so much more behind his reasoning that he's not saying. Michonne knows Rick is a protector but she also knows that he would never pass up the chance to be with his family unless something was very wrong inside.

And I really think another part of the issue is Rick has been in ‘protect them’ mode for literal years since he’s been away and so it’s like all he knows is protect and sacrifice and he’s out of practice when it comes to remembering there’s a lot more to a relationship. Like your wife and kids need you with them, not just fighting for them from afar.

Rick says, “I have to keep them from coming for our home.” And Michonne says, “They’re coming for it? You know that?” Rick replies, “They could. One day?” And Michonne is sorta flabbergasted that Rick is indefinitely refusing to come home over something that could hypothetically happen so she repeats, “One day?” 🙃

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

And then Rick tries to double down saying, “I’ve been looking the other way. And you said it, they kill innocent people. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m in. I stay and make sure Judith and our son are protected from them.” Not Rick trying to spin this like this was somehow Michonne’s idea too. 🤔🙃

But I do love hearing him say 'Judith and our son.' I’m telling you the second he learned of RJ he became every bit a part of the family Rick fights for. 💯

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

I love the way Michonne responds truly like Rick’s wife and best friend who knows him too well when she calls BS about that. And she knows it’s BS because in what world would Rick be cool with just never seeing his kids?

You can feel how Rick lying to Michonne is hurtful to her because they are interconnected in every way. And while they normally get access to every part of each other, Rick is now trying to shut her out of what’s really going on with him all the while she can literally feel his pain because they're one.

She might not know exactly what is causing the pain yet but whatever deep pain Rick is in, which we learn is rooted in the devastation of losing his son’s memory, is pain she can see, sense, and most of all feel. So to see him give all these other reasons for his actions when she knows and can feel there’s something deeper is frustrating for her.

Also, this got me thinking about how Mike failed to protect Michonne and Andre, and he ended up almost protecting her more when he was dead as a walker shielding her from other walkers. And now, Rick too is convinced he can better protect Michonne while being 'dead.'

Rick has convinced himself that this dead version of him pushing her away is what will keep her safe, when really Michonne needs him alive and with her so much more.

Rick says, “Listen to me. The first man you and Nat killed his name was Okafor, and he’s who saved my life.” That line is always another indicator to me that Rick has changed a lot since TOWL ep 1 because before he didn’t want to give anybody in the CRM credit for saving his life but now he’s been led to believe (or more trying to force himself to believe) that Okafor showed him the light or something.

Rick goes on to say, “He wanted me to become part of the CRM, move up, help him change it. I didn’t have anything left so I gave myself to his mission.” And y’all, the way Michonne is looking at him and trying to understand how the heck this explains why he won’t go home. 🤭 And I get it, cuz I too was looking at Rick like...

Whenever I see Michonne looking at him here, I’m like Rick, buddy, Michonne loves you a lot because if anyone else was presenting their iffy points like this she might be a lot less inclined to try to make things work.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Michonne reminds Rick that all that stuff he gave himself to was Okafor’s mission not his own and then she asks some questions I was wondering about too because she says, “Do you remember the life we built? What we had?” I love that she says this and the way she says it. You can tell Michonne loved the life they were building and it makes sense cuz they were in such a beautiful place in season 9. 😢

Also, the wording stands out because Rick tried to say everything they had is broken but here Michonne’s trying to remind Rick of just how good and unbreakable what they had was.

She approaches him and says, “What we were building - it’s kept people alive.” And y’all already know I adore the way she gently puts her hand on his face and lifts up his head. 😍 She’s so tender with him even after he’s been so hot and cold with her.

gif cred: @perryabbott

And Rick’s elevator eyes make another appearance because the way he’s looking at her as she gets close to him...Michonne almost had to lift up his face or the man was gonna get distracted lol. Also, it's sad to remember this type of tenderness has been nonexistent in Rick’s life for years. 😢

Then Michonne shares how she was observing Rick at the CRM saying, “I saw you, standing there behind her. A solider at attention for this army and I thought…‘He’s a prisoner here and we have to break out.’”

Ok first of all; I love the soft tone she’s using saying this. Like as upset as she is she’s still so empathetic. And I also love the wording of this because she saw him being a prisoner which you know hurt her heart but then she says ‘We have to break out.’ Once again she’s never thinking Rick has to do anything alone and so even seeing he’s a prisoner, her thought was what will we do about it together.

Then I always love the irony of this next line when Michonne says, “You don’t choose to stay in prison. When the doors open you leave.” She’s absolutely right and in this context, it makes perfect sense. But the irony I love comes from the fact that Rick and Michonne literally met at a prison and called it home for a long while. 😊

And even when Michonne could have ditched the prison after Merle nearly gave her to the Governor she chose to come right back to the prison because deep down she knew she belonged with these people and specifically the Grimes (and cuz magnets. I gotta mention that every time. 👌🏽😋🧲)

Rick says, “We’ve been crawling around in the dirt so long, Michonne. Losing people we love. This felt like a way or a chance to stop that.” I remember first hearing that and being like crawling around in the dirt?? I get ASZ isn’t as evolved as the CRM but team family’s crawling-around-in-the-dirt days were like season 4B-5B territory. They’ve come a long way since then.

Rick goes on to say this felt like a chance to fight for everyone instead of surrender, which is interesting because in ep 1 when Okafor said everyone is Rick’s people he was not trying to hear all that and was adamant this isn’t his city or his people. But now with Michonne, he’s trying to spew the same Okafor rhetoric that he has to sacrifice himself for everyone. - But he knows and she knows and we know that none of this is the real reason why he won’t go home.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

And then Michonne gives Rick a much-needed reminder when she passionately says, “That place is not your responsibility. You have a family.” Exactly. 👏🏽 Like the fact that she even had to tell Rick that makes me upset. ☹️ But I love that she says it in plain letters because no matter how long it’s been she’s like we are still your family.

I wanted to shake Rick tbh and be like you have a wife and kids and they need you so please for all that is good and holy snap out of it. 🙏🏽

But Rick is stuck on his CRM defense mechanisms as he says, “Okafor’s gone. Thorne’s one of them now. I’m the only one left.” Stopping the CRM’s crimes against humanity is a noble cause but I have to admit when I heard Rick say this I was like...this all sounds more like reasons why he can drop Okafor’s plan and go home now. 😅

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Michonne is trying her hardest to be nice and understanding despite thinking this is all ridiculous when she says, “So you’re trying to keep us safe by *maybe* changing the CRM one day, who *might* come after our home and put it in danger. That’s it?” I love how she spells the whole thing out again and I know she wants to be like sir are you hearing yourself because this sounds crazy.

And Rick looks like he kinda knows it sounds crazy so he just has this silent nod like yeah...

Then Michonne again makes my heart hurt when she says, “You won’t come home with me, to your life? Your kids?” The emotional emphasis on kids gets me. 🥺 I know that really makes her feel like she’s not talking to her Rick because the man she knew would never refuse to come home to her and their children.

I also really like that she says come home to 'your life' because she’s again reminding him that his life is not here but with her and their family like it’s always been.

And once again I gotta applaud the wording. Because what does Michonne say he won’t come home to? His wife, his kids, his life. And what did Rick say was his choice in episode 1? His wife, his kid, his life.

And they’re still his choice now but he’s choosing the wrong thing for them and him. It just goes to show how much being the walking dead has affected him that now he won’t come home to the very people he loves most and is most devoted to.

Defeated but stubborn, Rick looks at Michonne and says, “I don’t want to do this. I have to.” And while on first watch you’re meant to think he has to because he thinks it’s for the greater good, I love how we later learn he thinks he has to because if he goes home and loses Michonne he’s terrified of not knowing how to die again. 🥺 But I’m getting ahead of myself again lol.

Rick concludes by saying, “So no” and y’all something about the way he says those two words makes me so mad lol. I feel for him, and it's clear this destroys him inside, but he’s also played in Michonne’s face one too many times in the last few hours.

And the way he’s saying it trying to sound so ‘resolved’ as if this is just the final verdict. And something about the tone, it's like a tone one would use when saying 'no I won’t run that errand' when really he’s saying 'so no I won’t come home and be a father to our kids.' 😑 Idk, I just stay wanting to fight when I see this moment. 😅

When I first watched I was like alright Michonne we love him but let’s pack it up it’s time to go. And after trying her best to reason with him and him telling her over and over this is the way it’s gonna be, she sadly knows it’s time to head out as well.

She raises a finger and says, “That’s not it. You’re lying.” And I just love that whole motion. And Rick is lucky once again that Michonne knows him so well that even still after he continues with this disappointing stance she knows that’s not really the reason for his choices. Rick, this is your other half so you really think she can’t tell when you’re lying? Michonne has a good read on everybody she comes across but especially Rick Grimes. She always has, but he must’ve forgotten.

We’re really watching two halves of one soul, so while Rick and Michonne are at odds rn, there’s still no denying their oneness. They know each other so well that they simply can’t successfully lie to each other about what’s really going on. It's like Rick has forgot what it feels like to be so seen and so he doesn’t realize all this hiding and lying won’t work on Michonne.

Rick lying in this convo is a lie too many for Michonne so she says, “But you know what? Your wish is granted. I’m out.” Lol I love that she says 'your wish is granted.' Our little genie. 🧞‍♀️😋 Despite Rick continually trying to reiterate he doesn’t want this, Michonne is like you sure are acting as though this is your wish so no magic lamps needed, she’s out.✌🏽

Michonne heading out was a tough decision that I’m glad she got to make. And this is when Rick realizes he's not just in this apartment with Michonne Grimes the wife but Michonne Grimes the mother.

Getting back to her kids was always a vital part of this mission. Like finding Rick was the crucial part one of the mission. Going home to their kids was the crucial part two and Michonne was never going to feel like she fully succeeded at this Find Rick operation if it didn’t end with her kids back in their arms. (That’s why I was so confident there would be a reunion with their children because that was always a huge part of this mission she was on)

And then, despite repeatedly acting like Michonne leaving is the only way, Rick sure does look shook when she actually starts leaving. The way that man springs up from the couch immediately with Pikachu-shock etched on his face. Makes me giggle every time. 🤭

Same energy.

Michonne walks away saying, “Back to my kids. Who I left to find you.” And I always note when she uses the terms 'my kids,' 'your kids,' or 'our kids' in their talks. And naturally, at this moment she uses 'my kids' because at this rate Rick is refusing to come home to these kids so she has to go home to her kids.

Michonne is kind enough to give Rick and us a recap of everything she’s done thus far to try and get this man to come home when she says “Well I found you. I fought for you. I tried to reason with you. I pleaded with you. And now I have to go.” She ain’t wrong.

And I like the movement that coincides with this as Michonne packs things up and grabs the book for her daughter because even upset she’s still a thoughtful mother. She also grabs a large kitchen knife cuz that’s all she really needs to take down whatever comes her way out there.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

Also, I always note the way she says 'pleaded with you' because I know in that moment she knows that is not even like her. Like Michonne very rarely pleads with people. But Rick has her being someone she doesn’t recognize because she had been so willing to try everything to reach him.

She did her best but now she’s got to go even tho it breaks her heart. Again, I’m glad that Danai wrote this where Michonne makes a decision that’s not just rooted in aiding Rick along his journey of trauma but rather knowing she can’t just put up with his back and forth forever because it’s unfair to her and it’s keeping her from her kids. So she basically stops Rick’s back-and-forth games right in their tracks.

Also, I love how quickly Michonne turns this swanky apartment into survival resources as she breaks the lamp for another weapon. It shows she may have been a city girl before but Michonne's also a seasoned apocalyptic survivor now.

And since I said I was gonna talk about every detail that I notice even if it's just minuscule, I have to say I always like - what I’m sure is unintentional - but how Michonne stomps on that one lamp leg only to grab a different one that was already detached. Seeing that, I was like those cute little stomps were just to let out some frustration lol. 😋

gif cred: @taiturner

Michonne reiterates that she knows Rick isn’t being honest with her when she points the lamp stick at him and says, “You’re lying, and you’ll see it and it’ll be too late.” Imagine if that was the last thing they ever said to each other. 😥 Rick would be distraught and done in.

Rick stands there staring at her silent and likely knowing she’s right deep down. It’s interesting how often Rick is just rendered speechless in these moments. It’s almost like so much is going through his head and yet so few of it can make it out into audible words.

Michonne gives one last quick look before swiftly walking out of the apartment and leaving. And now you know I always hate to see my magnetic babies part ways. 😢 But at the same time, I was honestly really proud of Michonne for not putting up with this hurtful treatment any longer.

Idk who Rick thought his wife was but she is not the one to just sit there and be tried time and time again. Especially when it means more time away from her children. But while to Rick she hasn’t yet shown how deeply this all tears her up inside, the second she leaves the apartment those tears start coming and we soon see just how much pain they’re both in over this. 🥺👌🏽

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.04 #RIR (30)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year

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WIBTA for bringing a fake boyfriend to my friend's party?

to condense as best i can, i (30, transwoman, city of pop. >10million) recently become the mother hen to a brood of wonderful baby queers (8 total, 17-23, boys and girls, all moved for school in the last year or so, most had never set foot in ANY city before). we live on the same floor of an apartment complex, and we've all grown very close over the past months; i help them use the metro, they tell me when they're going on dates and text so i know they got home safe, i cook weekend dinners, and they all slept in my living room for a week when another apartment on the floor was broken into. i think of them as somewhere between friends, younger relatives, or even my own children.

recently, one of the older ones (21) has realized he's also trans and come out to me, and i'm so proud and grateful that i can guide him through his early transition. unfortunately, there's his mother.

he'd first told me her response to his coming out was "better than expected", so i assumed she was tolerant, if not supportive yet. i've since learned she continually misgenders him, thinks this is a "tomboy phase" he'll marry out of someday, and has begun listening to more right-wing podcasts and news sites in order to "hear from both sides".

along with the other 7 kids, i've been invited to stay at the family's farm for his birthday in august, & while he's assured me she won't make a scene with company around, he's implied she has many opinions about my prescense, but said that i shouldn't tone myself down, and that if anything "it would be good for her to learn to be kind to you early, since we're family too now". two of the girls are partners, which the mother knows, but she does not seem to care about this and said that bringing a date was fine.

i have another friend (31) who's much more loudly queer than i am. on top of this, he's heavily tattooed (HUGE taboo here), rides a motorcycle, and is very outspoken and unshakable. i told him about all of this, and he offered to come along as my boyfriend, both to bother this woman, and so i won't be in a tiny (population SEVENTY-THREE!) unfamiliar town alone if anything happens. he's met the kids several times now, they get along well, and the birthday boy has said "that all sounds hysterical. do whatever you want."

my worry here is that the mother is already MUCH worse than he'd first lead me to believe, so i don't know that i can trust the kid's judgment that everything will be fine. i don't care about hurting this woman at all, and both i and my friend have dealt with even nastier people before so i'm not afraid of her, but i DO NOT want to do anything that could put this boy in a difficult position, especially since he'll likely be living with his family every summer until he's finished school, if not longer. i know what i can personally tolerate, but i don't know what he can, especially from a mother.

would i be an asshole to bring my "boyfriend" along? is it best to just go solo? or should i stay away entirely until he's back in the city?

What are these acronyms?

#mod opinion: op you are genuinely a wonderful person and i'm so glad your kids have someone like you #you've set up this safe supportive space and you really care about their well-being and comfort #that's amazing and i'm glad they have someone like you #aita #am i the asshole #reddit

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todomitoukei · 2 months

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Honestly it’s a depressing ending for the villains. We get hardly any follow up for the remaining ones, Toga was the last one I expected to die and I was hoping it was a ruse at first. But since it’s official it’s heartbreaking. It’s lacklustre just throwing in a character to portray Tomura and what would happen if a civilian did reach a hand out, and throwing in another character for Deku to interact with. Honestly even the heroes were pointless, nothing has really changed in the system. Hawks never got a consequence for his actions, hell it could have been explored of a hero murdering a villain questioning the like of what makes a villain or hero. But he rises in ranks and has done nothing. I just feel it’s such a rushed ending, and I would have been ok with the same ending if it didn’t feel so messy and compiled together. There are so many loose ends and follow ups from characters, Shoto especially. It’s unfortunate, but honestly I’m glad it’s over. I lost passion after a while, but I appreciate the joy it’s gave me when I first started following the manga and getting into the anime, and experiencing the highs and lows of manga leaks. Dabi was my main one, and it’s one positive I gain from this ending for how open it is to his fate. It’s just sad that it ended this way.

Hori's biggest strength is for sure coming up with interesting ideas - like you said, exploring certain parts could've made for an incredibly interesting story. However, his biggest weakness is not following through with what he's starting, doing a 180 right at the end every time.

The cast has always been too big, yet he chooses to show us minor villains like Gentle and La Brava - who receive a happy ending - while the main antagonists endings aren't even being shown.

As much as the villains dying sucks (subjectively but also objectively since the story spent so much time telling us it's about reaching out and helping everyone no matter what), if they had been at least given a proper conclusion it could've been acceptable, yet after 400+ chapters, the author couldn't even bother to show all the main antagonists and their endings.

Where exactly is Spinner? We know he wrote and published a book, but is he in jail and if so, how did they allow him to publish this book?

Is Compress in jail forever? Is he still in a cell with Geten? He read Spinner's book, but how did he get hold of it? Was the prison kind enough to give him a copy?

What about Touya? Assuming he's dead, how much longer did he have? Did his family care when he died? How is the family coping? Are they getting along? Why did Horikoshi not show us Natsuo and Touya talk after spending so much time saying they used to be so close? Natsuo not saying anything and having mixed emotions after all of this was actually an interesting idea, but not when you don't do anything more with it - now people just think Natsuo is an asshole when in reality, he has every right to feel conflicted, but it sucks as a conclusion when we've all been looking forward to seeing him and Touya finally get to reunite and be happy.

What was the point of Shigaraki appearing as a ghost to Deku? Why wouldn't he at least appear in front of his friends? Why wouldn't we see him show up in front of Spinner, approving his book or something?

And yes, Shouto, too. Why is the main info we get in regards to his father? What about his hero costume, which we aren't even being shown? Did he ever change his hero name or is it going to be Shouto forever?

I wouldn't even say it's rushed as much as it's an unbalanced focus. The last few chapters could've been focusing on these subplots, but instead Hori tried to mimick the tone of the first season by showing the kids returning to school and whatnot, something that could've been shown in less time to also make space for elaborating on a bigger variety of characters and plot points.

I'm also glad it's over, I just wish these characters could've been in a better story.

#bnhavent #ask

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kasagia · 2 years

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Heyyy! So I was wondering if it was possible for you to write something where klaus forces the reader to marry him and they have a daughter hope(she can be a baby or a kid) and the reader can kind of tolerate klaus for the sake of her daughter but actually hates him and over time she falls in love with elijah's nobility and confesses to him at a party or something and klaus overhears ending is up to you<3

Loved by them two

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Elijah Mikaelson x reader, Summary: After your parents (pack leaders) arranged your marriage to Klaus (with whom you accidentally had a one-night stand earlier), you tied your fate irrevocably to the Mikaelsons. Problem? 1. You hate your husband for tricking you into this marriage. 2. His noble brother is too alluring. 3. You find out the hard way that hate, love, and lust are a very explosive mixture. Especially when you add the two Mikaelsons to it. Warning(s): argument, fight, blood, love triangle, smut, the first time I wrote something bordering on smut, angst, fluff, the reader kisses Elijah and then goes to bed with Klaus; generally, the reader doesn't know what to do; but she has two hot brothers on her call; three in total because Kol is her best friend; I really like this one after all Nonsense from me: I combined these two requests because they seem to go together. Also sorry if I didn't include enough Elijah x reader (despite my huge crush for all the Mikaelsons, Klaus will always get somehow a girl 😅). I also took a gif from here, because... well it's good. Word count: 8,3k (it's pretty long, I admit, but I don't regret any minute of writing it.)

You hated Klaus Mikaelson with all your heart. Your abhorrent, psychotic husband. A man who somehow was the father (even though you've tried to disprove it many times) of your precious, sweet little daughter Hope.

If the devil could take human form, no doubt it would be your husband.

You met him by accident. You and your friends went out into the city to have fun. You met a hot, handsome blond guy in a bar, went to bed with him, and left his house the next day without a word, expecting never to see him again. You wouldn't think that when you get back to your pack of wolves, your parents - the alphas of the pack - will tell you that you're getting married in a month. And not just anyone. Klaus Mikaelson was going to be your husband. A 1,000-year-old werewolf and vampire hybrid.

You will remember for the rest of your life what they told you when they were destroying your chance for happiness.

"The pack must be strong. This marriage and your assumption of power will guarantee us a secure position in New Orleans. No witches, vampires, or other werewolves will stand in our way. This alliance with the originals will guarantee us power beyond our ancestors' imagination. The crescent wolf and other packs will succumb to our strength. It is your duty to do this for your people."

Of course, you objected to the idea as soon as they told you. But you weren't a leader yet, so your opinion didn't matter much. Especially when your first meeting with your fiancé was only a few minutes away. At least the first official meeting.

You thought the guy must look like a walking fossil. You were surprised when you met that hottie from last night.

And from then on, your whole life became hell.

You tried everything to back out of that engagement. Really everything. Even a fake pregnancy with another, which turned out not to be so fake after all. And unfortunately for you, the father of your child was HE. The curse of your existence.

So he sped up the wedding, and you became the wife of the most dangerous vampire in the world. Cool! At least you got lots of presents and access to his bank accounts all over the world. The pros of being an incubator for a miracle baby.

Then you met your guardian angel. Elijah Mikaelson - the older brother of your awful husband. Your only consolation (other than Hope) in this terrible situation. Your friend, soul mate, and the man of your dreams.

Fate liked to make fun of you, it forced you to marry the wrong brother.

Elijah was everything any woman could ask for. A tactful gentleman, respecting and supporting female feminism, always keeping his word, a walking ideal. The complete opposite of your cruel husband.

You were completely in love with him. So much so that when he held your beautiful one-year-old daughter in his arms, you imagined that he was her father. Your fantasy was almost always spoiled by your husband stepping on the three of you and taking the baby out of his hands.

You had no idea why Klaus had even chosen to make your life a nightmare. There were other ways he could have taken control of the city; he didn't have to become the leader of your pack and marry you.

But he always did and took what he wanted. You found out after being stuck in this happy swamp of being married to Klaus for a year. So you took great satisfaction in denying him the one thing he could never have and so desired - your love and affection.

It was another big mystery for you when it came to Klaus and his complicated personality. Yes, you had a child together, and you were stuck with him, but before that, you didn't know each other. So why did the mighty hybrid decide to find a mate and lead his own pack with them? And why was he strangely obsessed with creating a happy, loving family with you and Hope?

Worse, he turned out to be a good alpha to your pack and an even better father. You couldn't say a bad thing. You two ruled the werewolves, enhanced by your fusion, as equals. And Hope loved it when he sang her lullabies and tucked her in to sleep. Ironically, she calmed down better in the murderous original's arms than in yours.

Even your own child was against you.

Fortunately, in this cold, dark Mikaelson mansion, there was one soul who stood by your side no matter what. The only one you could trust implicitly without fear of ending up with a stake in your back.

Elijah was a gift from heaven to you.

During your pregnancy with Hope, he helped you in every possible way. He was always there for you, whether it was holding your hair as you returned all the breakfast he had prepared for you earlier or reading aloud to you as he massaged your aching ankles.

And when did you become a hybrid? He was the one who taught you self-control for the most part (while Klaus was busy doing something else and couldn't see the two of you, of course).

There was only one problem. Your terribly possessive husband.

As soon as Klaus came into your sight, Elijah had to move two meters away from you, or all hell would break loose.

And you're not exaggerating at all.

One day, when you were watching a movie and lying on the couch, leaning against each other and covered with one blanket, you didn't notice the hybrid enter the living room. You didn't even blink when your companion was dragged from his place and thrown to the other end of the house. A second later, a very angry and jealous vampire took his place, hugging you much closer than his brother and placing his hands on your growing belly.

You didn't react to his show of strength then.

Elijah and Rebekah taught you long ago to choose your battles with Niklaus. It wasn't worth arguing with him about everything he'd done. Especially since you were pregnant at that time - you didn't always have the strength to get into fights with him.

But now as a hybrid, queen of your pack and whole New Orleans? Oh no, you wouldn't let that man fucking rule you.

You tried to make his life hell. You defied him every step of the way, overthrowing his dark plans and bringing your own to life. Of course, you did it all with a sweet, stupid smile, occasionally showing him small acts of tenderness, such as hugging or kissing on the cheek or forehead (on exceptional, life-threatening occasions, you even sacrificed and kissed him), to lull his vigilance.

But Klaus wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what you were doing and was happy to let you change a couple of his plans if it meant a kiss from you.

And you thought it was what made him fall for you.

You were stubborn, always getting your way, going over the dead to achieve your goal if it was to protect your loved ones.

And Klaus loved it. You don't know if it was his weird fetish - the guy always got what he wanted and no one dared stand up to him, so he felt for the girl who didn't want to succumb to him. You were probably one of the few survivors of the rebellion against him. And the one who could do literally anything without any fear of the hybrid hurting you.

You get used to this life. Secret meetings with Elijah in the library, discussions in the living room while Hope played with her toys on the carpet and watched cartoons on TV, occasional shopping and girls' nights with Bekah and Freya, and even to Kol's pranks and tricks.

Even your relationship with Klaus has been better lately. You tried so openly not to show your hostility towards the hybrid. After all, he was your daughter's father and Hope deserved at least a semblance of normalcy - parents who don't want to kill each other every 5 minutes.

But tonight, everything was about to change.

~•♤♤♤•~

"So you want me to go with you to some weird party organized by your current archenemy Tristan, and Klaus gave you his permission to take me out of the house?" you asked the original who made the pancakes for you as you discussed another plan to outsmart the de Martel siblings while cradling Hope in your arms.

"I wouldn't call him an archenemy... just a minor inconvenience."

"Is that why you and Klaus tremble with anger every time I say his name?"

"No, it's because a beautiful lips as yours shouldn't be tainted by such a terrible name."

"So whose name should I keep saying, Elijah?" you asked with a teasing smirk, licking your lips.

The original leaned slightly towards you. The tension in the room was palpable between the two of you. You looked down from his captivating, mesmerizing eyes to those alluring lips you've dreamed of kissing ever since he turned out to be more than your asshole husband's brother to you. You were only a few centimeters apart... so little...

Hope's squirming in your arms reminded you of the baby's presence. And that you were standing so close to your husband's brother in broad daylight and in a place where anyone could easily walk in and see you two. Against your darkest, most hidden desire, you have moved away from the noble original. Elijah cleared his throat, going back to continuing your breakfast.

"I'll be ready at 8 p.m."

"The party starts at 7."

"So? Don't you think being fashionably late will be the perfect combination for the act of surprise when they see me hanging on your arm? We'll get their attention, so Klaus and Kol will do what they do the best."

"You know ladies don't usually talk about such… bloody things while holding babies in their arms?"

"Ladies, Elijah, but my wife is everything but that." the hybrid came out of nowhere with that arrogant smirk on his lips. "Hello, my queen. My little princess." Klaus smiled fondly and took Hope from you, making funny faces at the baby. The traitor started to giggle. You rolled your eyes but also smiled slightly upon hearing your daughter's cute laugh.

"Dada!" she screamed, grabbing his nose with her hands.

Yeah, this little traitor could already talk. No, the first word she said wasn't dad; it was mom. The problem is that her happy "dada" came out of her mouth too often compared to mama. Klaus was too pleased with this fact than you would have liked.

"Well, maybe if my loving husband was an exemplary gentleman, I could act like a lady."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

"How is Aurora? Did she let you out of her arms so quickly?" you asked sarcastically, trying to throw him off balance. You weren't in the mood to put up with that annoying asshole today.

"Did I just hear jealousy in your voice, love?"

"Haha, you wish. You have my full blessing to spend time with whoever wants you."

"Niklaus. I believe we were supposed to have a meeting before we put this grand plan into action. Will you forgive us, Y/N?" Elijah interrupted you before you two broke the incredible peace between you that had lasted for 4 months and started to jump at each other's throats.

"Just take him wherever you want."

"Brother, shall we?"

Klaus muttered something under his breath. He handed our daughter over to me and planted a quick, wet kiss on my neck before stepping out of my personal space. I growled at him, showing my golden eyes. The man merely laughed, waving to the little one before leaving the kitchen.

"Enjoy your meal, Y/N."

"You can try to lose him on the way back!" you screamed after the retreating man in the suit.

"WON'T HAPPEN, LOVE!" your husband shouted back, ruining (as usual) all your dreams.

"It's always worth giving a shot." you murmured, knowing full well that he would be able to hear you. You smiled victoriously, hearing his irritable, grumpy voice as he snapped back at one of his vampire errands.

~•♤♤♤•~

"You look amazing, Y/N." Elijah greeted you with a delighted smile as he watched you descend the stairs in a long, tight black dress with gold embellishments at the waist and the ends of the sleeves.

With your little tiara in your hair and a gold snake necklace entwined around your neck, you felt like a fucking queen.

You're not going to lie—you went all out with your preparations, and Rebekah made sure she did your makeup for your first big, official outing since Hope was born.

It wasn't until you came downstairs that you noticed that Elijah wasn't the only person sitting in the candlelit room. Klaus was sitting right next to him, looking at you with the same fascination and admiration as his brother. You felt a little uncomfortable being watched by two originals with heart-shaped eyes.

"Maybe I should choose a dress with a higher neckline after all?" you wondered as you watched them almost drool over your looks. They were both 1,000 years old but acted like horny teenagers.

"So I guess I'm dressed well enough to be a distraction for tonight?" you asked, bringing their attention back to your face. They both decided to act nonchalant, as if they hadn't been staring at your ass a few seconds ago.

"Maybe even to well, love." Klaus' heavy, watchful gaze didn't let you down an inch. You felt an involuntary shiver run through you with each step you took closer to the originals.

"My brother may be right. No one will be able to take their eyes off you."

"Thank you, Elijah."

Klaus cleared his throat as he got up from his chair and faced you. He took your hand gently, and after softly caressing the wedding band and engagement ring from him, he shifted his attention to your wrist, suddenly stopping his movements.

You looked up at his eyes, catching his gaze. You felt enchanted by these calm, blue eyes, their beauty mostly made you went to bed with him a year ago. You felt like any little move could break that strange spell between you two.

At one point, you felt cold metal settling on your wrist. You turned your gaze to the charming bracelet that, surprisingly, matched your outfit.

"It's for protection. In case you need help and no one can find you."

"So you've always known where I am? What is this, some kind of dog collar with a tracker?"

"No. Freya enchanted it for me. It's supposed to sense when you're in danger and let me know." he rolled up his sleeve, showing you a new bracelet on his wrist. "I have a similar one."

"Oh." you groaned in shock, completely not expecting something like this from him.

"Exactly. Oh. I guess I'm not the bad guy all the time."

"I didn't mean..."

"Of course you didn't. Have fun with my brother, love."

For the first time since you've known Klaus, you felt sorry for him. Due to the growing guilt you were feeling, you kept an eye on his receding shape until he passed through the door. You sighed, turning to face Elijah, who had already approached you from behind in a moment of your inattention.

"Don't worry. He'll get over it. Niklaus can't blame you for being careful with him." he tried to comfort you, but deep down you knew it was your fault this time.

And you weren't going to act like your husband, so you decided to apologize to him at the next opportunity. Unlike some, you were able to admit when you were wrong. However, Elijah didn't need to know about your plan.

"Maybe you are right. Let's go to this party."

~•♤♤♤•~

You were talking to Elijah at the bar while sipping your drink. You entered as planned—late, attracting the attention of most people. Rumors quickly spread throughout the supernatural community. Your favorite was that during that year of your "absence," you divorced Klaus and married his brother, now parading proudly with him around the salons. Elijah seemed to like it too.

You were enjoying the party until one of the de Martel siblings showed up. Tristan.

"Famous Y/N Y/L/N Mikaelson. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you sir are…?"

"Tristan de Martel. You must have heard about me from dear Elijah."

"To be honest, not so much. I only know that you're the one who invited us, for which I want to thank you." you played a stupid, naive girl with joy while watching the frown on his forehead. To remember: He does not like to be diminished or underestimated in any way. Mr. big ego.

"So perhaps you would do me the honor and dance with me? We could get to know each other better."

"Actually, this lady promised me her first dance. If you'll excuse us, Tristan."

"Of course. Enjoy yourselves."

Elijah grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor. He pulled you closer to him, rocking you to the beat of the song. The original wanted to cause even more rumors... you wonder if Klaus agreed to his actions.

"He's a slippery guy. Now I know why you wanted me to stay away from him and his sister."

"You just spoke to him, how do you know..."

"Well, starting with the extravagant look of the room, the fact that his suit and watch literally scream I'm rich, and ending with the fact that he carries himself as if he were the master of this world, I've noticed other manic behaviors as well. Besides, it's obvious at first glance that he's desperately trying to imitate you. I don't like him."

"Should I assume that you don't like me as well?"

"No! No. I like you. More than you know. I don't know how I would have dealt with vampirism and all of this without you. Thank you for being there for me. Always." you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne.

"And forever." he said, placing a tender kiss on top of your head. "You're more to me than I could ever admit."

"Do we have to? Pretend and hide the truth?" during your conversation, you didn't even notice when he led you to a more desolate place. Nobody was looking at you. There was only him and you.

"Niklaus..."

"Have you ever, in your entire, very long life, done something just for yourself, without thinking about your brother or sibling? Have you ever acted selfishly?"

"I can't be selfish with you." he said, resting his forehead against yours. You were so close to each other, so close to getting what you both wanted.

"Why?"

"It will destroy us all."

"Then let the world burn... just for a moment."

Elijah, after a moment's hesitation, leaned closer to you, embracing your slightly trembling figure with anticipation even tighter. He cupped your right cheek with his hand and finally brought your lips together in the long-awaited kiss.

Your first kiss with the original was… completely different from what you imagined. His soft lips didn't match up with yours as well as they did with…

You froze in complete shock as you realized your subconscious was comparing Elijah to Klaus. And surprisingly, it was more sympathetic to your hated husband, from whom you wanted so much to be free. In spite of this strange feeling of guilt that you somehow betrayed Klaus, you returned the kiss with more passion than before, trying to feel that wonderful tingling and buzzing in your head.

But it never came.

Something was missing in this perfect, fabulous setting for the first kiss with the love of your life. And you had no idea what was wrong.

Maybe first kisses with someone new were so… awkward?

Your treacherous mind reminded you that there was NEVER such an awkwardness between you and Klaus. Only pure passion and desire.

What the fuck happened to you? Why didn't you feel anything special when all your wet dreams were coming true?

You moved away first under the pretense of taking a breath. Staring into Elijah's eyes, you could feel the same attraction that accompanied you every time you stole those furtive glances from each other.

"I love you, Y/N. I've loved you since the first day you gave me a lecture on how Pride and Prejudice is Jane Austen's best book; how cliché it wasn't." you hit him on the shoulder, making him giggle. "And if the circumstances were completely different, if it were someone completely different, I wouldn't hesitate to be selfish just this once and take something from my brother. But I will not allow any harm to come to you or Hope through my actions."

Before you could say anything, you two heard a howl.

Klaus and Kol.

Elijah nodded at you. You disentangled yourself from his arms and ran upstairs to fulfill your role in the Mikaelsons' plan. You just hoped the guys would distract them long enough for you to find what you were looking for.

You searched their house, wondering how Elijah's confession would affect your relationship now.

But little do you know that you weren't the only one who heard it.

~•♤♤♤•~

It was a really fucked up night.

The peaceful surveillance of the de Martel house turned into a bloody battle between the originals and the first vampires they turned. Klaus' therapist, Cami, barely escaped a jealous attack by Klaus' ex-Aurora. You wonder how Klaus managed to reach Cami in time and why the red-haired psycho didn't target you and your child. Klaus must have put on quite a show for her.

In all the chaos, you didn't get a second chance for a moment alone with Elijah. The subject of your feelings still remained the elephant in the room. And frankly, you've had enough of it all. All you wanted now was a warm bath and playing with Hope. No more family drama.

Without Klaus, everything would have gone to hell. And as much as you hated that he forgot to include you in his plans for today, you couldn't help but be grateful to him for helping you protect your pack from vampires today. He didn't have to. He could watch the de Martel vampires kill your people and attack them when they get tired of fighting werewolves. Another demonstration of him being more than a villain to you.

It amazed you how one minute he was an irritating, ignorant, disrespectful asshole and the next your savior, protector, and equal partner in crime you could rely on.

You guess that's what your husband was like. Full of contradictions and surprises. Your private pet of nature.

You sighed in relief as you finally walked to your home. You took another step towards the mansion when you saw Klaus and Elijah getting out of the car and heading for the entrance.

You were about to join the originals, but you stopped dead at the sound of Klaus' pretentious voice.

"So we're just going to pretend you didn't kiss my wife and confess your feelings to her, or maybe you have an explanation?" you hid, eavesdropping on their conversation. "Don't think that after all that's happened, I've forgotten that you went a little too far in distracting the de Martels. You may get Aurora away from her that way, but it was superfluous, and I know you enjoyed every bloody second too much for me to just walk away from this."

"I don't have to explain myself to you. If she wants me, it's none of your business, Niklaus. You only married her because you made up a plan - Y/N has never wanted to be your wife and you have never cared about her." Klaus stopped, watching his brother blankly. He looked like something had broken inside him.

The hybrid suddenly lunged at the other man with his fists.

They started punching each other and throwing things at each other within reach. At one point, they both pushed off each other, landing on opposite walls. (Creating another dent to patch.)

"SHE IS MY WIFE! My mate! My queen! MOTHER OF MY CHILD! You have no right to her, brother! So I'm warning you… If I ever hear the littlest rumours about her having the smallest crush on you, I'll put you back in that bloody coffin, and I will release you after our eighth child comes into this world. She will be so madly in love with me that she won't even spare you a second glance when you meet again."

"I didn't know you loved plans that take over a thousand years to complete, brother. I never thought you could be so patient."

Klaus growled, throwing himself at his brother with a scream. From your hiding place, you could hear the sounds of a fight and shattered furniture.

You decided to wait a little longer before stepping in and heroically separating the two combatants. You didn't want it to seem like you overheard their argument.

Only when there was a sudden outburst followed by a suspicious silence did you decide to run into the house. You wouldn't expect them to demolish the entire living room in minutes, and Klaus would be bleeding out dangerously while trying to patch up the wound and drive the dagger into his brother's heart.

The men didn't notice you as they tried to disable each other. You weren't going to come between them or stand on either side until Elijah, out of nowhere, pulled out Pappa Tunde's blade.

Your body reacted faster than your brain. You instinctively threw yourself between them, shielding Klaus from the blade.

They both froze when they saw you.

Time seemed to stop as both shocked and incredulous looks from the originals fell on you. To be honest, even you were surprised which side you were on. You blamed your stupid tendency to act instead of think in difficult situations. But you weren't going to show them that you were insecure about your actions. Not when they were both holding weapons harmful to the other one.

"Put it down." you said, looking straight at Elijah. "You too." you added, glancing over your shoulder at your husband, who was staring at you with a strange, unidentifiable look. Amazingly, he dropped the dagger to the ground first. Soon after, Elijah did the same. You quickly bent down to grab both weapons, putting them in your pockets. "Good. Are you calm now?" they nodded silently, waiting for your next move. "Great. So, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL YOU TWO WERE DOING?!"

Elijah took a breath, probably intending to give you some clever answer, but stopped as soon as you felt an unexpected weight fall down your back. You caught Klaus just in time before he slid to the floor. Holding him up, you noticed a wound on his right side. You reached out to touch his wound, but the hybrid's strong grip on your wrist stopped your hand.

"Don't. You'll get burned. Verbena and the wolfbane. Grenade."

"What the hell?! Elijah how could you throw a grenade at him?! Do you throw one back?!" you asked the man in your arms.

"I wanted. You stopped me."

"God, from now on, you're both grounded from being with Hope. Hell knows if that rage won't attack you in front of her! Come Klaus. I'll help you clean it up. Elijah, you can clean up here before Rebekah or Freya come." you said, casting a disappointed look at Elijah's outfit before helping the hybrid up the stairs.

"I would never..." Klaus tried to explain himself as you dragged him to his bedroom.

"Just shut up and sit down." you growled at him, pushing him onto the bed. You took the first aid kit from the bathroom and went back to him to disinfect his wound. "It'll hurt."

"Will you kiss it later? To ease the pain and speed up the healing process, of course."

"Don't try your luck any more today." you warned, rolling your eyes at his mischievous smirk.

He snorted, offended. He looked like a child who had been grounded for snacking on sweets. You sighed, trying not to laugh at his scowl. Unwittingly, you began to wonder what Hope would look like when she went through her rebellious period. Probably like her father when he did something wrong and got caught doing it. Well, at least you'll have some practice before she grows up.

"Do you love my brother?" he burst out suddenly while you were cleaning his wound made by verbena and wolfsbane. Why they had pomegranates from these plants shouldn't shock you as much as it did.

"What?" you asked, shoving a water-soaked cotton ball into his wound, which made him groan in pain. You gave him an apologetic look as you continued working on his side.

"Don't act stupid, it's not like you at all. Do you love my brother?"

"Of course I do, he's my friend and Hope's uncle." you replied unfazed, continuing your work.

"Let me rephrase that. Are you IN LOVE with my nobel brother?"

You tried to pretend that his question had no effect on you. You put down the cotton balls and tried to avoid his gaze to give some answer, but Klaus grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. Fuck. You couldn't lie now. He always knew when you were lying, and now that you were exposed to his watchful gaze, you only knew one way out of this fucked-up situation.

So you pulled him closer to you, kissing him passionately.

He moaned, surprised by the feeling of your soft, enticing lips on his own. He wasted no more time. He put you on his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible.

The feeling of his warm skin against your clothed body reluctantly brought back memories of the night it all began.

Intoxicated by the feeling of his captivating lips on yours again (after so long), you didn't even notice when he threw you onto the bed, only momentarily breaking your kiss to let your hair down. He melted back into your mouth, hovering over you. The hybrid tangled his hand in your hair, tilting your head so he had better access to your equally eager mouth and tongue.

He moved to your neck, leaving wet kisses and gentle bites and rubbing every inch of your skin, effectively ruining any thought process in your head.

It was just you and him.

And after a very long time, you felt extraordinary pleasure and much-needed relief from the tension that your body had gone through today.

"Nik!" you moaned when he started sucking on the most sensitive spot on your neck, which he knew damn well existed and used every time to tease you.

But this time you moaned for him like a whore, too overwhelmed by the sensations his skilled hands and lips were giving you.

And this time, Klaus didn't hold back. His amber irises and possessive growl were the only warnings he gave you before he ripped your dress in half, revealing your dressed-in-lace-underwear body to him.

His wolf howled inside him.

He pressed his lips to yours greedily, caressing every inch of your newly exposed skin. You growled into his mouth as he bit your lip harder and dug your nails into his back. He reciprocated by squeezing your thigh tightly as he wrapped your leg around his waist, rubbing your most sensitive parts against each other. You both moaned in unison, pulling your lips apart for a moment. You decided to repay him and slid your fangs out to dig into his neck, drinking his sweet blood greedily. You've been dreaming about it since you became a hybrid. Only in your darkest, wildest dreams, after which you were ashamed to look into the eyes of the hated hybrid who probably drove you to Stockholm syndrome because you wanted him more every day—the man who was the cause of your misery.

It was impossible for you to love him. To love the man who tricked you into this marriage; who lied and killed and tortured so many people; who made you fall head over heels for him. Maybe that's why you fell in love with Elijah? He was his complete opposite. He was self-possessed, calm, reasonable, and kept his word.

But there you were, rubbing against him and moaning as his blood ran down your throat. Wanting him more than his brother—the man of every woman's dreams.

Maybe you were as fucked up as your husband.

Moments later, he copied your idea and dug himself into your neck. The moan coming from him sent shivers through your body all the way THERE. How could a man make you so desperate for him with just some kisses and the slightest touch?

You'd probably go all out and lose yourselves in each other's touch for the rest of the night (and possibly part of the morning) if Hope's cries hadn't come from the baby monitor on his nightstand. You broke apart, breathing heavily. Klaus licked off the rest of the blood dripping from your wound until it closed. He rested his head against your chest, inhaling your scent.

You unknowingly ran your hand through his curly hair, also closing your eyes and getting lost in this special, unique moment of tenderness between you two.

"I love you, Y/N." his soft whisper, combined with the gentle movement of his lips against the skin of your breasts, sent shivers down your spine. The realization of his confession left you completely still, holding his arms in a gentle embrace. "I know you don't feel the same way about me, but I promise you that one day you will. I will be worthy of your affection, my brave, wise, beautiful, merciful queen." he said, placing one last longing kiss on your lips before climbing off of you. He got dressed and left the room to soothe the crying Hope.

You closed your eyes, taking shaky breaths. You covered your mouth with your hand to drown out your silent sobs as you heard the familiar lullaby that Nik usually sings to Hope.

Klaus has really changed for the better since the first time you two met. And any other woman in your situation would surely fall in love with him in a heartbeat. But you've already given your heart to someone you'll never have. Or so you thought.

You felt an inexplicable attraction to Elijah, but with Klaus... everything just felt right - even though the hybrid drove you crazy and was the complete opposite of your dream prince on a white horse, in which Elijah fit perfectly. So maybe your Mr. Right wasn't someone you'd imagined in your head a long time ago…

And now, crying silently on your husband's bed, you realize what you should have done ages ago. But before you did the right thing, you could afford to pay a little attention to your troubled, lost heart.

So you cried until you got tired enough that all you did before falling asleep in Klaus' bedroom was to cover up any traces of your tears. You promised yourself a long time ago that no matter what, you would be the only witness to your tragedies. You'd rather be seen as a cold bitch than a weak, lost girl thrown into the fights the originals always fought.

Because in the end, it was only you (and Hope) against the whole world. Just like always.

~•♤♤♤•~

"I need you to do me a favor, Kol." you said as you walked into his room without knocking. The original was on the bed, flipping through something on his phone. He lazily shifted his gaze to you. You groaned internally. Bored Kol is a Kol who is very hard to work with. But—shame to admit it—he was your last and only resort.

"Hello to you too, Y/N. Thank you for knocking before storming into someone's room. How am I? I'm very glad you're asking; I'm fine. That's a very beautiful day, don't you think? Yes, indeed. Did marriage with my brother completely make you lose any manners and tact?" he teased as he drank the blood from the bag.

"I want you to compel me." he spat out his drink, choking and staining another carpet. "Rebekah will be mad at him." you thought as you watched how the original was coughing.

"What?!" he shouted, finally coming to himself. "Why?!" he asked, reaching for his half-full bag again.

"I want you to compel me to love Klaus." he spat out his drunken blood again, suffocating. He tossed the bag on the nightstand, deciding not to reach for it again in the face of new revelations. He probably thought you were completely out of your mind.

"What the bloody hell?! But I thought you and Lijah…" he began, confused, jumping out of bed to face you.

"We never gonna happen, Kol. I realized it very clearly yesterday. And I don't want to feel these stupid things around Elijah any more. He will never be mine, and I will never be his. I have Hope. I had to think about her future and happiness. And she deserves… everything. So if I can give her a happy, normal, loving family, I will do it. Even if it means falling for Klaus by your compel."

"Are you sure, darling? Do you even know what you're asking me for? Do you really want me to erase your memories of you and Elijah?"

"No. I don't want to forget. I want to remember all those stupid moments that led me to this fucking rollercoaster of emotions. I need you to convince me that... it was always meant to be Klaus. That my love for Elijah is just a fleeting fascination, and that Klaus is my fucking soulmate and partner, someone who will treat me as an equal and put me and our daughter above everything else. And that seeing him so close with Aurora and Camille made me realize that I only want to be with him."

"You know that these things aren't far from the truth, do you? My brothers love you. Both equally strong. Are you sure that…"

"Yes. I made my decision. I'm just asking you to help me sort out my emotions properly. I can't be the girl who sails between two brothers. I will not let Hope grow up in this mess my feelings have caused. My fate was sealed the day I met Klaus. Now it's time for me to finally accept it."

"I'll help you, darling. On one condition. I'm not going to keep you under my compel forever. I'll take it off someday. Are you then ready to face the consequences of your actions? Organize your feelings on your own? What if you really fall in love with Nik? What if you somehow fall in love with both of them? If Elijah finds someone else? Do you even think about what it will mean to you? You'll be living a lie, Y/N. Are you ready for it?"

"I'll do everything to give Hope the family she deserves. Besides, I'm Y/N Y/L/N-Mikaelson. I always know what to do. And for now, this is the perfect solution. I think I could be happy with Klaus after all. And after everything that happened recently... I just want to finally be happy, Kol. Without all the extra problems that being a Mikalson brings anyway."

"I only hope you're not going to regret this... Look at me, darling. Today you will feel something more than hostility or a little friendliness toward my brother Klaus. After seeing him, being a hero for your pack, and rescuing that human Camille from getting killed, you realized that you'd always had some feelings for him, but before today they were weaker than what you feel for Elijah. You realized that Klaus could be the man of your dreams, someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. You will never forget what you experienced with Elijah, but now you see him more like a brother and an uncle to your child than a life partner. You like Klaus; he's the only man you could be romantically interested in until Hope comes of age. After this time, my compulsion will cease to work. You will forget that I compel you. I told you to get that stupid idea out of your head and told you not to ask anyone else for such a favor. You will follow my command." you snapped out of your stupor, blinking as you tried to remember what the hell had just happened.

"Well, at least promise me you won't tell Klaus, Elijah, or anyone else."

"I hate to say it, but you have my word. Everything will stay between us."

"Good." you nodded your head and left his room. Kol's concerned gaze led you all the way to the door.

At least he circumvented your request and didn't force you to love Klaus directly, he just dulled your infatuation with Elijah. If you started to feel anything for his hybrid brother, it would be real. He only hoped that when Davina, Rebekah, or Nik found out, they wouldn't castrate him for it.

~•♤♤♤•~

You were pissed off. Incredible furious with your stupid husband and his older brother.

These two morons went with Kol on a solo quest against Lucien and Tristan, locking you (Freya, Davina, Rebekah and you) in the house.

You don't need to tell anyone that they came back with nothing and narrowly escaped death. As soon as the boundary spell was lifted by your witches, you ran out of the house with Hope and went straight to your pack. You left your daughter with your cousin Lily and her witch girlfriend while you went to get wood. You must have landed your rage on something. Trees were better than innocent people or your very guilty and stupid husband, whose face you didn't want to see right now because you knew you'd use it as a dartboard.

However, you forgot that your husband had no self-preservation instinct.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you growled as you sensed his presence, continuing to chop wood. He really was asking to die today.

"You took our daughter and left the house, you think I won't follow you? Besides, we need to talk, love."

"Well, it's too fucking late now. Fuck off before I shove a branch up your ass."

"Where does such an aggression of yours come from, love?"

"You dare to fucking ask me?! After what you did?! You could all die or get caught! I know you don't care what happens to me, but have you thought about Hope? Your fucking daughter! What would happen if they came for us, for her, when we were closed in the cage, you made?! Tell me, honey, was it your brilliant idea? Or maybe Kol's?"

"It's fascinating that you have such faith in my noble elder brother that you don't even entertain the slightest possibility that it was his plan."

"Elijah wouldn't do something so stupid. He's better than you. Do you even know how it could..."

"Of course our dear Elijah would be a better husband for you!" his brain apparently focused only on that damn part, not the one where you scolded him for being so careless because you were worried about him.

"Don't you dare fucking bring him into this! He was the only goddamn person who cared about my fate after my transformation! He cares enough about me to let me know about his plans, Klaus!"

"I saw perfectly well how he cares for you - by shoving his tongue down your throat!"

"Maybe if you weren't acting like a fucking, arrogant, condescending dick who knows everything best, you'd be in his place!"

"Well, I went further with you than he did last night. You didn't even moan against his mouth as you did against mine. I guess being a dick pays off after all." he replied with a feisty, smug smile.

"You! Fucking! Disgusting! Pervent!" you growled, punching him in the chest each time, causing him to back away from you until you pinned him to a tree. "I fucking hate you. Every time I see the shadow of a man worth loving in you, you always screw it up! I hate you and despise both you and myself that despite all the damn things you've done against me, somehow I still fucking want to see in you someone worth my love!" you screamed, taking out your anger on him with every blow you landed on him.

It shocked you that he didn't do anything to stop you. He just took your punches, standing still in complete silence, until you got tired.

"Better?" he whispered, staring at your panting, disheveled figure as you both tried to calm down.

"A little."

"You tremble." he noticed, carefully touching your cold shoulder. "Let's go back to the camp. We need to warm you up." he said as he took off his leather jacket and tossed it over your shoulders. He grabbed your hand and started leading you through the dark forest.

You don't even remember when you got this far in your anger. It took you a good half silient hour of walking to get back to the sleeping pack.

You sat by the still-burning fire. Klaus added a few logs of wood to make sure it wouldn't go out. He then sat next to you and unrolled the blanket, draping it over your back, creating a warm cocoon around the two of you.

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder and staring into the fire. You blissfully absorbed the silence between the two of you, losing yourself in Klaus' warmth and scent.

"I'm sorry." he broke the long silence between you. "I should have let you know about my plans or not locked you in the house. You're right. You deserve someone better, love." he said, his voice slightly trembling as he spoke the last words.

"I could love you, you know?" you felt his piercing, surprised look as you played with one of the sticks, staring stubbornly at the fire to avoid his gaze. "A long time ago. If you hadn't acted like a condescending asshole and tried your best to lock me up in that damn house with Hope. If you'd let me in, help me get past that evil, cruel hybrid facade and see the real you, you would have what you so secretly desire."

"And what is that?"

"Unconditional love from someone who isn't forced to give it to you. Unlimited trust and devotion-something you have not experienced in your very long life. You know one day you'll get it from our daughter, but it won't be the same. She will love you because you are her father, her love is conditioned by the bond you have shared since she was born. That's why you want me to love you so much. You want someone who cares about you for no reason."

"And could you? Love me just because you want to? After everything I have done?" he asked, pulling you away from him, not too far away, just enough to look you in the eye.

"You were never quite the villain in my story. I have to admit, I've hated you since I met you... but over time, I've seen that you've made me more than I could have imagined, someone much more powerful, someone whose opinion really matters. You always helped me, even when I thought it was some kind of sabotage against me and when I disagreed with your plan, like when you decided to stop Dalhia alone or play partners in crime with your bloodthirsty father. You take care of my pack like it's your own, and you're such a good father to Hope that sometimes I envy her. Maybe our beginnings weren't the best, and maybe along the way we'll start arguing and fighting like bitter enemies again, but I couldn't imagine anyone else to do it with."

"Even after I forced you into this marriage?"

"Well, if it weren't for you, my parents would've arranged one with a possibly stupid, self-centered werewolf anyway, so I didn't get the worst of it."

"Good to know I'm not the worst option."

"At least you're hot and handsome." you replied, nudging him with your arm. He did the same, making you both laugh.

You stared into his eyes as the firelight reflected in his beautiful irises, emphasizing sparks of amusement and... tenderness.

"I want to be the man who deserves your love."

"Can you let me in then?"

He did not answer. Instead, he pressed his lips to yours. If it had been any other man, you would have insisted on answering this important question. But you knew Klaus too well to know that this passionate, sultry, tender kiss is a silent promise he makes to you. A promise he intends to keep.

Klaus wasn't the perfect man of your dreams, and he often made hasty, sudden decisions without considering the opinions of others. But deep down, you knew there was no other man in the world who made you feel the way you did with Nik. Even Elijah couldn't make you feel half the way you did with his brother. His kiss, his touch, his smile, and his scent made you feel insane. And that (desire, passion, tenderness, warmth, and thristing for his little affection) was the type of love you want to lose yourself in.

Maybe it was Klaus who was supposed to be your Mr. Right after all.

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eoieopda · 1 year

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Yoongi + “runaway bride” I’mma leave this one up to your interpretation bc I know I’ll love it either way and also wanna see what you come up with 👀

oooooooh!!! v excited by this prompt, lol. this is, um, going to hurt kind of a lot at the beginning, but stick with me!!!! also, i accidentally made this >3.3k words….. which i will proofread when i am no longer exhausted 🤪

the one with yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas

ft. POV shift, pining & correlating angst, reader who’s🎵 a runner she’s a track star 🎵, a #nonspon vans product placement, a very unfortunate namjoon (sorry, buddy,) childhood idiots in love

2024 ETA: long after this was written, the user who requested this drabble admitted that they were a minor masquerading as an adult, violating my explicitly stated boundaries re: minors being prohibited from interacting with me and my content. this user has since been blocked.

Yoongi sat in a seat chosen specifically for him not because he wanted to, but because he knew how much time you’d sacrificed in writing every place card by hand.

To be clear, he’d never wanted to attend this rehearsal dinner in the first place. Unfortunately, he knew the stakes. That wasn’t something he’d dare to say out loud — especially not to you. Not in that restaurant while you fluttered between tables and shined your warm light on every single guest, one by one. Not ever, because you’d slipped through Yoongi’s fingers the second Namjoon slid that ring on yours.

If, in twelve hours’ time, Yoongi could force his deflated body out of bed, he’d have to watch quietly while you got away for good.

There was nothing he could do about it, either, so he swallowed that grief with a mouthful of bibim nengmyun. He knew it wasn’t the food that tasted so bitter on his tongue; however, on the off-chance that it was, he followed suit with another ill-advised swig of makgeolli.

During the two subsequent hours he sat and stewed at that table, Yoongi had lost count of just how many glasses he’d had. His eyes never lingered on the bottle, sticking instead to you and the smile that didn’t seem to spread beyond the curve of your lips. Every now and then, you’d glance his way — and every time you did, there was a microscopic twinge at the corner of your mouth.

It felt like a signal, something cryptic, but he wasn’t in the proper headspace to begin making assumptions. For the first time ever, you’d hit Yoongi with a look he didn’t know what to do with, and that fact drove him insane. This was what he was afraid of, after all — that the invisible string between you would be re-routed to someone else, and the telepathic link you’d always shared would disappear with it.

Your friendship had started early because your respective mothers had grown up together, and found each other once again as adults with two kids each. Back then, both of your front teeth were missing and — if Yoongi made you laugh too hard at routine, weekend gatherings — banana milk would occasionally fly out through the gap. He was nine-years-old and had no concept of it, but now he knows that he loved you then.

He loved you when you were ten, and you kneed a classmate in the dick for bullying Yoongi on the basketball court. You were two years younger and half his size, but you were a force to be reckoned with.

He loved you when you were fourteen, and a wave of brand new hormones made you a little bit of a fucking nightmare to be around.

At seventeen, twenty-one, still.

Now.

There, while everyone around him clinked their chopsticks against their glasses and Namjoon accepted the crowd’s wordless demand that he kiss you.

Yoongi had done well enough with your previous relationships. None of them made him feel like this, though, and he’d spent two years unable to put his finger on why. Sandwiched at that carefully chosen table between his mother and older brother, it finally clicked: None of them ever threatened to last.

Yoongi had never been a particularly hopeful person, but buried deep in the back of his brain, there had always been a crumb of it. Part of him, however stupid, thought you’d end up together at a dinner like this. All of this was the last nail in the coffin, the alarm clock screaming that it was time to wake up.

Suddenly more nauseous than he’d ever been before, Yoongi scooted his chair back so abruptly that it scraped along the floorboards. Just as quickly, he got to his feet and made a beeline for the exit. Of all the heads that turned to watch him leave, yours was the only one he noticed in his peripheral vision. He could feel your eyes on his back — pictured how confused you must look — and it only made his stomach acid churn faster.

When he finally made it out to the patio behind the restaurant, Yoongi’s suspicions were confirmed: closed for the season. Fitting. He wasn’t in the mood to heed the signs, so he stepped carefully — one leg at a time — over the hip-high metal gate and gulped down sharp, late autumn air. As he did, he begged himself to get his shit together for you, if not for him.

He spent several minutes out there, maybe even hours, sitting on a bare, metal chair and glowering out at the trees at the edge of the property. He hated himself, he realized, for how easily he wasted time. Let it slip by unnoticed while he stood still.

The clock seemed to mock him, ticking faster from behind him as if time was going to outrun him again.

At least, that was his first guess.

Yoongi quickly learned that the clicks weren’t signaling the passing seconds; they were broadcasting the urgent beat of stilettos on brick. So, having figured that his mother had appeared outside to gun him down, Yoongi glanced over his shoulder and braced himself for the be-all, end-all of scoldings.

What he got instead was you and the undeserved concern that caused your eyebrows to furrow.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly once you reached the gate. With your manicured hands on the cold metal, you shivered, but you didn’t seem to notice. “Did you eat too much of the gochujang? I definitely did, and now I’ll be up all night with heartburn.”

Yoongi felt as though he’d been punched in the chest. The memory caught him in a riptide, beat him bloody against the rocks because he could’ve sworn he was sixteen again, stacking old encyclopedias under the headboard of your bed. He’d read somewhere online that, while sitting upright in a chair can exacerbate reflux, sleeping at an angle could help.

He was dizzy when he blinked back at you and saw your lips moving. He had to focus hard to figure out what you were saying.

“You remember that?”

Yoongi struggled to even out his breathing; he had no hope at all of finding the plot he’d lost. “Huh?”

You grinned and it made up for all the stars that had been hidden by grey clouds overhead. “The encyclopedias,” you chuckled, “They worked, you know.”

Yoongi didn’t mean to say it. He knew it before, during, and after it slipped out of his mouth that it was the worst goddamn thing he’d ever done, but he couldn’t stop himself — couldn’t shove the bullet he’d shot back into the gun. With the way it exploded through his chest — I love you — he was surprised that his body was still intact. No viscera sprayed out from the exit wound, no stains appeared on your chic, white cocktail dress.

You opened your mouth but closed it soon after, so clearly stunned by his unsolicited admission that you couldn’t find the words. Yoongi had no expectations whatsoever when it came down to your reaction because he hadn’t meant to provoke one in the first place. Even still, the wounded look on your face was worse than anything he might’ve imagined.

The two of you stood in tense silence for so long that Yoongi’s soul had nearly ejected itself fully from his body.

“That’s not fair,” eventually came your shaky reply. You clenched your fist tight around the top of the gate to anchor yourself and stammered, “Yoongi, that is not — Why would you —”

As soon as he aimed to take a step in your direction, your shock gave way to a scowl that could’ve boiled him alive.

“Why would you dump that at my feet? Tonight, of all fucking nights, Yoongi — seriously?” You snapped, though it sounded like a sob. “What am I supposed to do with this now?”

Now?

He didn’t know how to respond. He was paralyzed, inside and out, and he deserved it. Who the fuck was he, forcing the burden of his feelings onto you?

Selfish. Stupid. Out of time, as usual.

The makeup you always took so much time on started to run alongside your tears. Yoongi had seen you cry before, though he’d always been the reason you stopped, rather than started. He hated every single one of those muddied, black tears because he knew you. He knew you would have worn waterproof mascara if you’d had any reason to anticipate crying on your special night.

“I’m getting married in the morning!”

Your reminder was a dagger flying out of your mouth, sticking him right between the ribs. It stung as images flooded his mind — of you and Namjoon, your guests, and your out-of-season, imported fucking hydrangeas. It hurt even worse to see how badly you shook as you glared at him.

“Yoongi — fuck!”

Before you walked away, your eyes locked on his for a fraction of a second. In that moment, Yoongi promised himself that it was the last time you’d ever have to see his face.

When you were little, you pictured your wedding day like a moment ripped straight out of Cinderella. In your head, you’d wake up to birds singing at your window and mice scurrying around your feet, eager to dress you in a gown of epic and magical proportions. It’d be perfect. For years, you’d been sure of it.

In reality, there was no waking up because there hadn’t been a single second of sleep to begin with. No beauty rest, no sweet dreams of marital bliss — just you, feeling as if you’d swallowed a car battery. It sat heavy in the pit of your stomach, let acid burn all the way up to your esophagus. And it’d been all too easy to toss and turn in your hotel bed, which laid perfectly level on top of a plush, floral rug.

You crawled out of bed without the assistance of altruistic rodents and shuffled your dead weight over to the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. For once, your imagination had been accurate. Your puffy eyes were red in the aftermath of all your tears. They ached above circles so deep and dark that they would’ve alarmed you if you hadn’t expected them.

Namjoon had seen you at what you both believed to be your worst. Neither of you could’ve ever predicted that the Corpse Bride would be the one staggering down the aisle towards him. He’d love you anyway, you knew it, no matter how you looked. But if he knew what you spent all night toiling over…

You shook your head and abruptly turned away from the mirror. There were several of your dearest friends bustling around the room next to yours, all of whom were waiting on you. Swallowing hard, you headed for the adjoining door and promised yourself that the only person you’d let down today would be you.

You lost all track of time when a blur of hands went to work on you. If you’d closed your eyes while you dissociated, you could’ve pretended that your assistants were those woodland creatures you used to dream about. But you couldn’t close your eyes, couldn’t sleep through this part, couldn’t let your mind wander all the way back to that patio.

It’d been terrifying, staring your own heart in the face like that. More than anything, it was confusing because it didn’t look like you expected it would — not like an organ at all, but a person. You’d gotten so good at ignoring it that you couldn’t reasonably expect yourself to recognize it. It knew you, though, and loved you. Apparently, it always had.

As you sat in that hotel room, far away from the patio, you pictured every other moment you wished Yoongi had said what he did. The thousand times you’d thought for sure he felt the same, and all the ways you distracted yourself when you resigned to believing he didn’t. Every person you dated until you finally managed to move on —

“— please, love?”

You blinked rapidly to force your eyes to focus. In front of you, your mother stood with a knowing smile on her face and a sokchima in her hands. You didn’t need to ask her to repeat herself; you took the hint and rose slowly to your feet.

“I was nervous on my wedding day,” she hummed as she pulled the undergarment gently over your head. “Hungover, too, but your grandmother does not need to know that. Frankly, I’m surprised she couldn’t tell with how bloated I was when she helped me get ready…”

The bright scarlet chima followed without so much as a word from you. Your heart slammed helplessly against your rib cage when your mother proceeded to tug the sleeves of your jeogori up your arms. This moment should be special, you thought bitterly. All you wanted to do was cry; to apologize to your mother for your total inability to care while your wedding happened around you, not for you.

Soon enough, you were dressed. Your friends and older sister gushed about how beautiful you looked — the perfect bride — like you weren’t caught in the web of an anxiety attack. Like it wasn’t all wrong, and you weren’t dangling on the precipice of your life’s greatest mistake. Like you hadn’t spent so much of your hard-earned money on invitations and greenhouse-grown, special-ordered fucking hydrangeas.

Like you could catch a fucking breath under all the layers of your hanbok.

Sensing that a moment alone was necessary, your mother kissed your cheek and ushered the others out the door ahead of her. Before seeing herself out, too, she stalled in the threshold, turned back around to look at you, and exhaled through a pause.

“I left your shoes by the dresser,” she chirped.

The gentleness of her tone was reassuring, but there was a faint gleam in her eyes that caught your attention. Before you could ask after it, she nodded firmly once and let the door click shut behind her.

Alone again, your instinct was to do the same thing you’d spent ten consecutive hours doing — burying yourself under pillows and crying until you ran out of tears. But you had run out, which was precisely was the problem. You had no options left, nothing left to do but lean in.

At least, that was your first guess.

Your list of choices expanded by one when you saw the well-worn pair of slip-on Vans your mother had set out for you.

Yoongi sat on the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands.

Only two meters away, a garment bag hung from the hook on the back of his bedroom door. That bag — and the crisp, black suit it concealed — lingered there for weeks in the shadows, untouched since the day he bought it. Even though it hadn’t left its hanger, he felt it smothering him throughout the night. It choked him while one thought ran circles in his sleep-deprived brain:

The reason he bought it was the same reason he’d never be able to wear it.

Sick of the way he’d trapped himself with his thoughts, Yoongi pushed himself to his feet and crossed over to the door. With the way he flung it open, knob slamming against the wall, he’d likely never recover his security deposit. It felt good, though, taking his grief out on that godforsaken suit.

On his way to his front door, Yoongi stopped short. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a cabinet he hadn’t opened in weeks. As he stared at it, the devil and angel on his shoulders warred over the action he wanted so desperately to take.

Sure, he’d recently — finally — quit at your insistence, but what did that matter now?

He gritted his teeth and shook his conscience off his shoulders with a shrug. Within seconds, Yoongi was on the other side of his kitchen, grabbing an unopened pack of cigarettes and the lighter that lay in wait next to it. He closed his hand tight around it so he couldn’t see the Hello Kitty stickers you’d placed all over the plastic; your attempt to dissuade him from using it in public.

Joke’s on you, he thought as he placed a cigarette between his lips, your plan backfired. Leaving your mark on it the way you had was the only thing that’d kept him from throwing it away — and the only reason he still had a lighter to use at all.

Yoongi opened his front door with one hand as he tried to ignite the lighter with the other. No matter how many time he flicked the pad of his thumb over those little metal ridges, nothing sparked. Defeated yet again, he slumped down onto the porch swing, closed his eyes, and willed himself not to break down over something so stupid.

He had no way of knowing how much time passed as he sat like that. He had no way to tell who those urgent footfalls belonged to, either. That is, not until panted breaths hit his ears and prompted him to open his eyes.

Admittedly, Yoongi had pictured you in your bridal hanbok more than once throughout the years. Half the time, it hadn’t even been purposeful. From first to third grade, you’d rambled to him about your dream wedding on your daily walks home from school. You spoke about it so often, in fact, that even he started thinking about what embroidery a mouse might add to the hem of your chima.

As the pair of you got older, you brought it up less, so Yoongi didn’t think about it often. The image crept up on him, though, once in a while. Every time you brought him as a plus one to your friends’ weddings because you didn’t want to dance alone; and he nearly told you that he’d always want to be your partner.

Or that time you cried through your worst ever heartbreak on his couch, lamented that you’d die an old maid, and never get to wear one.

Even as recently as last night, when he drank half a fifth of whiskey and grieved over the fact that he’d never get to see you wear one.

He couldn’t make heads or tails of the real thing, not with the way you’d doubled over to catch your breath; and bunched the ends up in your fists, presumably to prevent yourself from tripping as you — ran here?

“What did I tell you about the cigarettes?” You puffed, still with your hands on your knees and your face angled at the sidewalk.

Somehow, despite running five kilometers to Yoongi’s doorstep, you hadn’t displaced a single hair from your artfully crafted up-do. Your makeup hadn’t budged, either, which meant that the only sign of your expended effort was the tint of pink on your cheeks and the tip of your nose.

You’d outrun his train of thought in your scuffed, old Vans. Yoongi had to buffer for a moment in order to catch up, but the involuntary smile fighting its way over his mouth didn’t bother to wait. Eventually, he recited your long-suffering appeal, smirking all the while, “They’ll fuck me up, and I’ll have to be wheeled out onto the basketball court in an iron lung.”

“Exactly.”

With one last, deep breath, you returned to your upright position. The second you did, Yoongi was the one choking up.

Rapid blinking did nothing to stop the tears pricking at the inner corners of his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat to the best of his ability, but he couldn’t shake the inexplicable flutter in his chest at the sight of you. You’d always been perfect, but this was —

“Oh, my god,” he croaked, thoroughly melted from the inside out.

Yoongi stood before his brain could signal his legs to do so; or remind his hands not to drop the phone, lighter, and cigarettes he’d been holding. His eyes, on the other hand, knew exactly what to do. He drank in your appearance like he’d spent the last twenty-two years wandering, dehydrated in the desert — and in a way, he had.

You blinked back at him with swimming eyes as if you’d found sanctuary, too. Suddenly aware of what you were gripping, you opened your fists and let the fabric flutter down to the ground. While smoothing out wrinkles that didn’t exist, you asked softly, “Not bad for a bunch of mice, right?”

“Look just like a dream,” he replied just as gently.

Yoongi’s hands, which were thankfully now free, reached out and grabbed yours. You followed his lead as he spun you, twirled under his raised arm until you ended up with your face mere centimeters from his.

“Yoongi,” you breathed. Your eyes danced from his, to his lips, and back again. “If you wait another twenty-two years to tell me how you feel, please pick a time and place that is mutually convenient. I swear to God, I’ll —”

It came out much more easily the second time than the first; and when it did, it felt more like a beginning than a bomb:

“I love you.”

#re: the one with yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas #jade’s requests #jade’s drabbles #2k drabblepalooza #myg #min yoongi #yoongi #bts #bts drabble #yoongi drabble #bts imagine #bts scenarios #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #trashlibrary

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