#like ??? the fear hole just had her roll up in here and break up the family a little bit ??? where tf was jerry ???

[bolly--quinn]

If Diane came back for real she would get along with Morty so well that Rick would be the one jealous and angry about being left behind. Diane and Morty babyyy

you're sooooo right anon like that's her baby's baby, that's her little baby boy, that's HER little guy she'd be like his biggest fan and always in his corner that's HER GRANDSON OK <3

like GOOD ENDING:

[joonberriess]

𓆩♡𓆪 “you don’t have to admit you wanna play, just let me rock you till the break of day,” – jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — simping at its finest, blowjobs, cum-swallowing, degradation, dumbification, jk is mean but also a praise fanatic, oc is a cute puppy who eats it all up, objectification(?) pretty sure bc jk just has unholy thoughts about oc, oc is THEE it girl, dirty talking, messy lil make-outs, thank you kiss on the tip LOL, PET NAME GALORE, oc is a nice lil bimbo everyone loves ❤️ even jk’s friends luv her

Jungkook listened to whatever the hell Jennie was explaining to him, in truth he stopped paying attention like five minutes ago. He sat there like a fried vegetable just zoning out and nodding mindlessly whenever Jennie looked at him and asked if he agreed etc. He didn’t want to be rude to Jennie but any more of this and he’d go insane he fears.

“So for the powerpoint I was thinking we should..” Jennie’s voice slowly fades out as the sound of the front door opening catches Jungkook’s eye/attention. Holy shit he doesn’t believe what he’s witnessing. He doesn’t realize he’s staring hardcore at Jennie’s poor unsuspecting roommate.

He instantly recognizes you as the girl he sees his team/friends go crazy over. You were quite the talk of the campus—cute, slutty, bimbo-like, these were some of the most common things said. If Jungkook had to admit, you were pretty cute and he’s only ever really seen you casually here and there. He finds himself licking his lips slowly and sitting up while clearing his throat.

“Hi Jennie, hi Jennie’s friend.” You sweetly say while waving at Jungkook politely. He gets an eyeful of tits and soft tummy as you pass by.

You’re wearing this soft pink tracksuit and white baby tee crop top which hugs your pretty little tits just nicely. Don’t even get him started about your backside which is enough in itself to bring a tear to his eye. Jungkook doesn’t realize he’s overdoing it with his staring until Jennie clears her throat pretty loudly.

“Ahem.” She glares at him, “As I was saying,” she shoves her laptop in Jungkook’s face.

He doesn’t see more of you because you end up heading down the hall to your room after saying “bye-bye” to both him and Jennie. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He grunts in annoyance.

“Not my roommate Jeon, you can go about fucking anything that fucking walks and has a hole between their legs but you leave y/n out of your lechery. Got it?” She hisses, “I can see the gears working in that stupid head of yours, so I’m warning you. Now help me with this powerpoint asshole, I’m not doing all the work.”

Jungkook internally groans—overprotective roommate, greaaat.

Whole time he works on the project his mind is filled with obscene thoughts and nasty little daydreams he comes up with just thinking about you. Jungkook’s had his fair share of hook-ups but none have ever truly made him go this crazy before. He’s fucking FIENDING for it, would be on his damn knees begging for you to crush his head with your soft thighs if he could.

Too bad Jennie said you were off-limits though. Unless..

Much to Jungkook’s dismay he doesn’t see you for the remainder of the time he’s there. He does see you more often around campus though, whether it’s you hopping out of your very pink car or you running about all over campus with a pink drink in your hands. He can’t get enough of you, and it’s fucking obvious to his friends who make fun of him for it.

“y/n, Kook? Really?” Yugyeom snorts, “Only in your fucking dreams will you ever hit that, your little guy down there probably wouldn’t even know what to do with all that ass.” Laughter all around them erupts as Yugyeom smugly smirks, happy with himself.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You’re so fucking stupid,” more laughing, “honestly, if anyone has more chances it’s me, you’re all either losers AND she’s never bat an eye at you. I don’t see any action from any of you either, all talk and shit.” He mutters while taking a drag from the blunt they were all passing around.

“Not true! y/n is a nice girl Jungkook.” Jimin snorts, “Watch,” he turns around and looks over the area for you, “hey y/n!” He yells while waving his arms. They all wait patiently for your reaction, low and behold you just end up proving Jimin correct.

You look confused at first until you smile brightly, “Hi,” you wave back while walking over, “what are you guys up to?” You tilt your head, lips pursed in a adorable little pout.

“Smoking.” Yugyeom replies curtly, “Want some?” He holds the blunt out to you.

Jungkook doesn’t know why but that shit irks the fuck out of him, he shoots his friend a glare and fans the smoke out of your direction before it can hit you. You smell like chai mixed with pumpkin, and he definitely does NOT want to ruin your pretty smell.

“No thank you,” you politely reply and then turn to look at Jimin again, “ ‘m a little sad though, because this morning I tried to make waffles but I didn’t know you had to actually pull the lever down and I didn’t get to eat my waffles.” You sigh wistfully, “See?” You hold out the raw and cold waffles wrapped up in a napkin, “And I don’t like it,” you shake your head, “you’re my friend right Jiminie? Can you buy me some waffles from the cafe pretty please?” You whine.

Jimin turns a little red at the nickname and nods, “Here,” he holds out a couple of bills, more than enough.

The other guys scramble for their wallets, “I’m your friend too right y/n?” They say while holding out their own money to you. Jungkook just stands there slack-jawed, he has never seen his own friends this fucking down-bad before. Oh, but they wanted to laugh at him for simping after you? Funny how the tables have turned.

“Reallyyyy?” You breathily giggle while accepting the money, “Thank you!” You kiss Jimin on the cheek before skipping away with literally breakfast, lunch, and dinner money.

“But I’M the fuckin’ simp? Yeah, totally.” Jungkook scoffs while shaking his head.

Jungkook starts making up an excuse to talk to you from then on. He doesn’t have to do much because you do all the talking for him, he just stands there listening to you ramble on and on about something he doesn’t recall asking. He thinks it’s cute when you stop mid-sentence and say in utter confusion, “What was I talking about again?”

If he could, he’d sit there and just listen to you talk all day. He’s surprised how much he likes your ditziness and dumb little brain fart moments, he finds that he doesn’t mind it so much. Like now, he was sitting there propped up against his car in the parking lot listening to you rant about astrology, time-loops, and anime..?

“Yeah?” Jungkook occasionally says while he watches you passionately explain to him what a fucking shinigami was.

“Think about it—politics and death notebooks, they go hand in hand for disaster and doom.” You softly say, completely side-tracking from the original topic, “I wish I had a shinigami though,” you pout while tapping your finger against your chin, “I think Ryuk is pretty cool. Have you seen the anime?”

Jungkook hums, “No, heard of it but haven’t seen it. So like, shinigami’s come with a death note or what?” He asks, ready for another little rant of yours (he doesn’t mind though). His eyes fall down to your pretty camisole you wore today. You were wearing these cute tight jeans that hung low on your hips, he loved the little pink bows you attached to the belt loops.

“Mm-hm,” you nod, “oh! I gotta go before I forget, all my undies shrunk in the dryer and now they’re pretty tight ‘n they fit a little smaller so now I have to buy some more.” You pout, “Bye Jungkookie,” you throw one arm around his neck as you side-hug him, standing on your tippy toes to reach his height as you press a kiss to his cheek, “bye-bye!” You wave and run off.

“Bye..” Jungkook whispers in awe, he smells a hint of your perfume on his shirt and he vows then and there he isn’t going to wash this shirt anytime soon.

The next time that Jungkook sees you it’s when he’s leaving your shared apartment after another project session. He sees you bent over while poking and trying to pull at the gas tank lid, which is obviously sealed shut. He whistles under his breath and walks over, eyes dropping down to your perky ass which is covered in these pretty little shorts which hug both cheeks nice and tight.

“What you doing down there, hm?” Jungkook leans against the car with his arms folded over his chest and an amused smile on his face, “Having fun?”

“Jungkook, hi,” you greet softly while standing up straight, “I was just trying to get this stupid thingy open because Jennie is letting me borrow her car cause mine is in the shop getting the windows tinted,” you pout, “but I don’t know how to open this stupid thing, and I wanna fill her car with gas as a thank you for letting me borrow it. Help meeeee,” you whine tugging at his arm.

“C’mere,” he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and guides you to sit in the driver's seat, “you see this baby?” He squats down so he’s eye-level with you, his free hand rests over your soft thighs while he points with his other, “You just pull this, and wa-la, the gas tank lid pops right open.” He chuckles and squeezes your thigh.

Your eyes brighten, “Reallyyy? How cool, thank you.” You happily throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, “no wonder that stupid thing wasn’t opening.” You giggle.

Jungkook takes a deep whiff of your soft coconut smell, he closes his eyes and sighs in pure bliss. This was the dream dammit, he never wanted to leave this spot EVER. “It was no problem really.” He mumbles more to himself while he stares at your pretty tits.

Fuck the friend code (if you can even call Jennie’s threat that), friend code didn’t have a pair of child-bearing hips and a ass shaped like a fucking peach like you did. Who was Jennie to keep all of you to herself so selfishly?

“Jungkook,” you softly say, “ ‘m gonna give you a thank you kiss.”

Jungkook laughs in amusement over how proud of yourself you look right now, he finds himself shaking his head and speaking in a lower pitched tone, “Yeah, where? Right here?” He turns his face to stick his cheek out.

A tiny little giggle escapes your lips as you nod at him, “Mm-hmm, right there.” You lean upwards to kiss his cheek gently, emitting a soft smacking noise as you happily smooch him. “There.” You say more to yourself.

Jungkook’s eyes drop down to your jiggly boobs which are pretty much in his face at this point. Your camisole somehow dips lower as your tits sit perfectly pushed together to accentuate their size. He tells himself not to but his dick seems to say otherwise as it stirs up in the confinements of his boxers. He already knows he’s about to be sporting a hard-on by the end of this interaction so he gives in.

“Want another kiss..” He mumbles while licking his lips, “But not on my cheek..got somethin’ else you can kiss.”

Your eyes follow his line of sight and you come across the very prominent bulge sitting behind his sweats. Your cheeks feel hot from embarrassment as the familiar throbbing sensation forms between your legs. Jungkook sees this when you suddenly begin rubbing your soft thighs together while staring back at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Whaddya say baby,” he lazily grins, “can I get that kiss?”

You stare back at him with those sweet puppy eyes of yours and nod eagerly.

.

Lips smacking against lips and quiet little moans/noises fill the otherwise dimly lit car (God bless his Mercedes for the interior lighting). You were tucked away on his lap in the backseat of the car, windows foggy and all as your hand slipped from the glass. Jungkook could die a happy man right now with the way he had a handful of ass sitting in the palms of his hands. He gave your soft cheeks appreciative squeezes as he kneaded the flesh roughly—greedily.

His own lips were a bit swollen from the hot make-out session but he didn’t mind, you were one hell of a kisser. One thing he didn’t see coming was how much of a little sex fiend you were, he swears he can’t keep up with how needy and slutty you are. He almost finds it cute how you pout and beg for him to let you have it while simultaneously humping him and refusing to let him part from the kiss.

Jungkook raised his hand and brought it down hard on your ass cheek, relishing in the resounding slap noise and how it recoiled/bounced in place. A slutty little moan escapes your lips as you pull back and pant softly against his lips, “Take ‘em off,” you slur softly, “hate these stupid shorts, gettin’ in my way.” You mumble with a tiny pout.

“Gonna let me see what’s underneath baby?” He looks up through his hooded eyes, grinning when he sees you eagerly nodding back at him, “Yeah? Go on then, slide ‘em off baby, show me what you got on.” He smacks your ass and gropes it harshly, only letting go when you whine at him while unbuttoning your shorts.

He swears under his breath as soon as the button pops open and you slip the zipper down. The hem of your undies comes into view, he sees a tiny bow sitting at the top so innocently and he can’t help but wonder what the rest of your panties are like.. Jungkook reclines back on the seat and parts his legs to make room for you.

You manage to slip your shorts down your thighs slowly with your hips swaying from side to side. Jungkook lets out an audible groan when he sees the cheeky undergarment that was hiding underneath. “Well don’t you look pretty,” he comments while running his hand over your ass, “bet you look prettier under.” He mumbles while licking his lips.

“But what about your kiss?” You pout.

Jungkook smacks your ass wickedly, “Don’t give me that fuckin’ pout. Didn’t know you were that eager to suck my cock, ‘s all you’re good for isn’t it baby? Just a dumb little thing who needs her mouth filled huh?” He grins when he hears you moan, “You gonna be a good little cock sleeve for me?”

“The best,” you happily slur, “ ‘m gonna swallow every last drop, promise.”

He finds it endearing when you hold your pinky out to him, and not wanting to be mean he hooks his pinky with yours, “Good girl.” He brings you in for a gentle little smooch, “Gonna ruin that pretty face of yours baby,” he whispers in-between kisses, “get on your knees for me.”

Jungkook finds that he likes how submissive and responsive you are to him, makes it a hundred times sexier in his opinion. You sink to your knees in front of him without missing a beat, you have your hands set over his knees as you sit there waiting with puppy eyes. “Go ahead baby, ‘s all yours.” He chuckles.

You eagerly paw at his sweats and with his help pull them down alongside his boxers until his fat cock is springing out and slapping against his lower abdomen. Your mouth waters when your eyes land on his perfectly sculpted cock, now you wanna feel it inside of you more than ever. His cock lays against his stomach, flush at the tip with prominent veins on the underside of his shaft.

“ ‘s mine…?” You whisper breathily while pursing yours lips, “ ‘s so pretty..” You’re talking more to yourself as you grab ahold of his throbbing cock and bring the mushroomy tip to your lips. Your tongue pokes out as you swirl it over the head, moaning softly at the tangy taste.

Jungkook bites down on his lip as he watches with hooded eyes, he can’t believe his wet dreams are coming true. Did he save an entire country in his past life? Made sense with how lucky he was right now. He brings his tattooed hand over the back of your head as he simply rests it there, letting you explore his dick like if it was a lollipop or some shit.

Your lips wrap around the head as you make these sloppy little sucking noises. Trickles of saliva begin to trickle down his cock, you use it as lube to stroke his girthy shaft—twisting and turning your hand around it while you noisily swallow around the tip. Jungkook’s lips part with breathy sighs escaping him, he relaxes into the seat and leans his head back with his eyes slipped shut.

You’re working wonders on his cock right now with the way you’re slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. “Like that,” he whispers more to himself as he moans out again when you dip your tongue into the sensitive slit of his tip. Your strokes become slower but much more intense with the pressure you start applying. It’s getting a lot harder now to control himself from bucking his hips or something.

“Shit, don’t tease me baby,” he groans, “been thinking about your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock for weeks now. Knew you’d look pretty with a mouth full of cock.” Jungkook opens his eyes again to admire the view. “Open up for me baby,” he reaches down to thumb at your lower lip, “there you go—like that.” He grins.

He feeds you more of his cock watching as you eagerly take more and more until the tip hits the back of your throat. It sends you into a small gagging fit but the vibrations and pressure of your throat closing around him definitely sends zaps of hot pleasure down in his groin and lower belly. “Shit.” He groans loudly.

You whine around his cock and pull away to catch your breath, his cock slips from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Jungkook hisses quietly under his breath and reaches down to stroke his slicked up cock, “Messy little thing you are.”

“Off, off, ‘s my turn.” You huff cutely before swallowing his cock in one go now that you’re a bit more prepared.

It takes Jungkook by surprise as he groans loudly and throws his head back. You begin working wonders with that sinful tongue of yours, pairing it with some mean ass sucks. He lets his hand slip from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, just holding you there as he lets you do your thing. You begin bobbing your head slowly while noisily swallowing around his cock.

“Fucking hell y/n,” he whispers slack-jawed, you’re a damn menace. How the hell is he supposed to last? “You just needed something to fill that needy hole of yours didn’t you?” He pants softly, “Knew the moment I saw you that you were made for my cock baby. If only you could see yourself now.” He licks his lips and gives your neck a small gentle squeeze between his fingers.

You slurp up all the slick you leave behind on his cock, your hand sits at the base just idly gripping him while your mouth does all the work. You pull all the way up until the tip sits in your mouth before you swoop back down to take all of him in. He repeatedly hits the back of your throat but you do a much better job at controlling your gag reflex this time around. Your sloppy pace definitely has Jungkook moaning and grunting under his breath.

“Gonna cum,” he sighs, “keep going—like that.” He whispers as a full body shudder falls over him.

You eagerly pull off his cock and begin stroking him at a frantic pace. You watch with glee as his cock begins to throb in your hold, but you don’t let it deter you one bit. You’re eager to see him cum, you want it all in your mouth. “Like this?” You say this while squeezing around the tip and flicking your thumb over it.

Jungkook gasps softly, “Fuck..!” He hisses.

You smile deviously and bring the tip over your lips, “Or like this?” You whisper, blowing softly over his sensitive head before you take him back into your mouth.

Jungkook lets out a mantra of “fucks” and “yes’s” as he reaches down to grip his cock, his hand covers your own as he begins moving your hand up and down on his cock. You suckle at the head and watch as he comes undone. “Oh fuckkk..” He whispers as his cock throbs, cum shooting down your throat as you swallow around him greedily.

He slumps in the seat and pants quietly while watching you clean his dick with your sinful little tongue. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that hard in his entire life before. He saw the pearly white gates of heaven just now.. “A-Ah shit, no more baby, ‘s sensitive.” He chuckles breathily when you try to suck on his (slowly softening) cock.

You pull back with a cheerful smile on your face, the corner of your mouth has drool and a bit of cum but you don’t seem to mind, “ ‘s so pretty.” You coo like his dick is the most amazing thing ever, he watches you lean over to press a tiny little kiss to the sensitive head.

Are you even real??

“C’mere,” he pats his lap, “I saw the way you were humping your own hand like a bitch in heat the entire time you had my cock in your mouth.” He says as he hauls you up, “You also deserve a nice little thank you, don’t you baby?” He grins while stroking his hands over your soft cheeks.

You nod eagerly, “Mm-hm,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “do you wanna come upstairs after this? I wanna introduce you to my bunny Luna! Oh, and we can watch some anime together because I think it’s lame you haven’t seen Sailor Moon OR Death Note.” You huff in disbelief.

Little did Jungkook know that by saying yes to all that he’d end up staying for wayyyyy longer than he initially planned. You becoming (a important) part of his life was a bonus. <3

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[uniivrz]

mic'd up

katie mccabe x reader

+ summary: reader, still on the acl squad, has been approached by the arsenal media staff asking if she'd go mic'd up in the stands for one of arsenal's games.

+ warnings: ACL injury mentions right off the bat. swearing. made up game (arsenal v tottenham). reader really embracing the WAG life.

a/n: i came across a video of katie during one of the covid matches, and due to the empty stadium you could hear everything she said— and that's where i got this idea :) my first post, hope you enjoy!

like any other football player, you hated the dreaded three letters that would take whoever was the unlucky soul out of the game for a long while.

of course it had always been a fear in the back of your mind, you just never thought it would actually happen to you.

that day you went down on the pitch had been one of the worst. not just for you, but for katie as well as the rest of your arsenal team.

everything had been fine. arsenal was up by two, and half time had just ended. it was around the 52nd minute, when a purposely bad tackle from a chelsea player left you on the ground, clutching your knee as you attempted to keep the tears at bay. (only to fail).

some time later you were holed up in one of the physio rooms of the stadium, when katie came in, the look on your face confirming her worst fear.

honestly, it was getting quite scary how many arsenal players were getting ACL injuries.

she had been by your side for all of it, constantly making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed, as well as driving you to and from appointments.

the downside meant you weren't able to travel with the team for away games, forcing yourself to be holed up in your flat you shared with katie— often inviting the rest of the ACL squad over to watch the game together, knowing you'd be insufferable on your own.

luckily for you, today was a home game. you woke up before katie that morning, hobbling down the stairs on your good leg, (and nearly eating shit in the process), you'd prepared her a proper breakfast, consisting of pancakes, bacon, & eggs.

the brunette soon appeared in the kitchen behind your unsuspecting frame, an adoring smile crossing her face at the sight of you lightly nodding your head to whatever song came from the speaker on the marble counter.

nearly jumping out of your skin at the feeling of two strong arms wrapping around your waist, your body relaxed as you registered the familiar feeling of katie, her arms clad in her arsenal training jacket.

you leaned into her touch as you finished up with the bacon, her thick irish accent rang through your ears as her nose brushed against your neck gently. "you should not be on your feet,"

rolling your eyes fondly, you forced yourself to suppress a smile. ever since your injury, katie had been treating you as if you were a porcelain doll— going to break at the slightest touch.

while sometimes it became a little overbearing, it warmed your heart for her to be this protecting with you, and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

"i was cleared to walk without my crutches, katie," your giggled, relishing in the ticklish feeling of her light breathing against the back of your neck.

"still. ya should have waited for me." she murmured. "i could have carried you down here."

you rolled your eyes once again.

for the first few weeks/months of your injury, she had insisted on carrying you everywhere. from the bed to downstairs, from the front door to the car. no matter where it was— she wanted to carry you. wether it was bridal style, your legs wrapped around her waist, or giving you a piggy back, she didn't care.

after breakfast was finished, you rushed back up to change. you settled on one of katie's hoodie's, along with her jersey which you threw on top, and a pair of her sweatpants. nearly everything you wore was hers.

when you'd returned downstairs, she grinned widely at the sight of you dressed in her attire, and couldn't restrain herself from letting her hands roam your body as you shoved your feet into some sneakers.

"oi hands off, mccabe."

the ireland captain chuckled, tapping your rear end before you stood back up, sending you a cheeky wink when you glared at her.

arriving at the emirates with your personal chauffeur, the two of you made your way through the grounds, greeting any staff members you'd passed by and waving to the media staff as you each made your way toward your separate destinations.

you had a brief session with a physio to assure everything was still fine and dandy with your knee, whereas katie was heading off toward the locker room with the others.

as you left your meeting 15-ish minutes later, you had been wandering the halls when you were stopped by one of the media staff, claiming they had a task for you.

since you were going to be in the stands again, they had asked if you would go mic'd up, thinking it'd be a fun video idea for arsenal's youtube channel.

you agreed quickly, thrilled at the idea. they had informed you that there would be a camera a little ways away from you, to capture your reactions in both your voice as well as your actions.

one of the members clipped a small square microphone device to the collar of your (katie's) jersey, as another member held a camera and recorded your actions.

Youtube

Y/N L/N MIC'D UP • ARSENAL V TOTTENHAM

Arsenal 578K views 6:38

0:00

[Camera fades in from black to show you, stood in one of the many corridors of the Emirates Stadium.]

grinning, you gripped your shirt and pulled it closer, "we've got mccabe! katie mccabe! can you hear me?" you asked, looking into the camera that was recording you.

[Laughter is heard around you before the scene cuts and fades into a brief black screen. When it returns, the camera is unfocused, going in an out before focusing on you, looking at the camera as you don't realize it's recording.]

"is it going?" you asked with a dopey smile, the cameraman behind you nodding. "right. hi, i'm y/n l/n and today i'll be mic'd up as i watch tonight's game." you giggle, pointing at the microphone clipped to your shirt before you make your way toward your seat.

[Camera follows you down the hall before cutting to you sat with Beth, Viv, and Leah, the former two sat in the row below you. You pull a small, barely noticeable box out of your pocket. The camera zooms in on your hand, revealing the box is actually a miniature uno deck.]

"i know how we can pass the time," you grin micheviously.

0:45

[Camera cuts to the four of you playing uno, Beth and Viv swiveled in their seats to face you and Leah above them. It catches Leah attempting to peek at your cards before you shove her head away, the scene then switching to a new clip of the four women arguing.]

"absolutely not, beth cheated!" leah yells, hands dropping dramatically onto her thighs with a loud smack.

"you fucking wish! you just suck williamson!"

[Viv is seen trying to keep the peace as you laugh loudly, the four of you gaining looks from surrounding match watchers— only for them to look away at the sight of four of arsenal's own. Your laughter becomes louder as Leah slams her tiny cards aggressively onto your thigh, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair with a pout.]

"oh, cheer up captain," you pout mockingly, reaching to pinch her cheeks between your fingers.

1:02

[Camera cuts to the teams walkout, briefly showing Katie McCabe before turning back to you, a large grin on your face, never failing to leave.]

"that's my girl!" you shout, hands cupped around your mouth to make yourself louder. "let's go number fifteen!"

1:39

[Cuts to you leaned back in your seat with your arms folded. An amused look is on your face as you shake your head. Camera pans to the big screen as Katie's name is shown, a yellow card next to it.]

"it's been like thirty minutes and she already has a card," you giggle to yourself before sighing fondly, a gentle smile on your face. "that's my girl."

2:06

[Different camera shows Katie sliding her foot in front of a Tottenham player, successfully and cleanly retrieving the ball from her feet before panning to you with your elbows propped up on your knees, head resting in your hands.]

"oh my god, she's so hot." you sighed absentmindedly, momentarily forgetting about those surrounding you and the microphone attached to your collar.

[Beside you, Leah bursts out laughing, the sound picking up through your mic as the blonde discretely turning to the cameraman who has now directed it toward her, pointing at you before fake wretching.]

3:21

[Camera shows you jumping up out of your seat, annoyance clear on your face as your hands are perched on your hips.]

"oh, come the fuck on! that's so clearly a foul!"

4:38

[During halftime, the camera follows as the four of you briefly leave your seats to join the girls in the locker room. The cameraman does not enter, only filming the door, however you can be heard from inside.]

"north london is what?!"

"north london is red!" an irish voice answers you.

"hell yeah it is!" you reply, then followed by the sound of palms smacking against each other.

another voice cuts in, "alright, simmer down you two!"

"oi! put her down, she's fragile!"

4:50

[Camera cuts to you stood with your hands on Katie's shoulders, giving her your usual half time pep talk, brushing stray fly-aways out of her face as she smiles at you. The sound is cut off, so the viewers can only see the motion of both players' lips moving as you speak to each other, the final thing being Katie moving toward you, scenes changing just before any PDA is shown.]

5:47

[Camera pans from Katie running around the pitch celebrating, arms in the air and then back to you, the four Arsenal players chanting together, you being the loudest and most enthusiastic of the four.]

"we've got mccabe! katie mccabe! i just don't think you understand! she plays out on the wing! she hits it with a zing! we've got katie mccabe!"

6:25

[Video closes out with you and Katie stood outside of the stadium, her arm wrapped around your shoulder as you do the outro.]

"that was me mic'd up, i hope i was entertaining enough for you all. thanks for watching." you grin shyly, waving with both hands. "leave a comment if you think katie should get mic'd up next."

[Katie laughs before kissing your cheek affectionately, the brunette waving bye with her free hand before the video fades to black.]

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ynln

Liked by victoriapelova and 51,094 others

ynln Watch me go Mic'd Up as I watch Arsenal Women's recent match against Tottenham!

Video is out now on the Arsenal Youtube Channel and the Arsenal Instagram Account!

— view all comments

katie_mccabe11 It's a good one 😉

⤿ bethmead_ We know why you think that 🙄

username petition to get yn mic'd up again, sign here

⤿ username signed

⤿ username signed

⤿ ynln signed

leahwilliamson Alternate title, YN thirsting over Katie for 6 minutes straight 🤢

⤿ katie_mccabe11 Jealous are we, Williamson?

Twitter/X

ynsmccabe that new video arsenal posted of y/n l/n is now my favorite thing

⤿ the clip of her and katie in the hall OMG

⤿ mccardlover no because they literally the only couple ever

⤿ meadema99 leah getting upset over beth cheating in uno after she literally tried to look at y/n's cards 😭😭

username pls the amount of bleeps they had to add to this video because of yn 😭

⤿ username never heard someone curse so many times in 6 minutes

katiespelova oh i need more mic'd up videos with the rest of the team now

username if my relationship isn't like katie's and yn's i don't want it

[stevie-petey]

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 hers 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. 

“Touché.” 

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 scowls 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 Dustin 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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[glossykissies]

thinking about what reader i’d pair with soldier boy and it only feels right he gets handed spoiledbrat!reader. bratty, high maintenance, pouty. soldier boy might’ve been a god-like supe with damn near all the power in the world, but at the end of the day he was also a man… and you were packaged to him like a god damn fantasy.

it was so conflicting to him, you were simultaneously everything that got him off in a woman all while challenging his beliefs. feminine, soft, supple, pink and glittering — sure, but also you had the craziest attitude, you swore like a sailor and you were demanding. it made his fists clench, and dick swell.

the first time he’d been introduced to you with the boys, having found yourself wrapped up in their world — you were the only one in the room who he detected not an ounce of fear from. you. the little thing in the corner leaning on her hip, more interested in her nail bed than the banished supe.

immediately, and much to butchers irritation (he was pushed for time, and trying to stay on track here.) soldier boy focused his attention on you, taking a draw of his cigar from the couch in the hide-out apartment.

“and who’s this pretty little poodle? you fellas let a fan tag along?” his voice is smooth and rumbly like wheels on gravel and you raise a perfectly plucked brow.

“please.”

he hums out a chuckle, not hiding the way his eyes drag up and down your body. he was used to just taking what he wanted, his time being one of those things.

“so if we could just—” hughie steps forward cautiously, attempting to regain the supes attention to get things back on track but is immediately silenced by soldiers boy lifting a hand, eyes still on you.

“no really. what’s the deal with strip-club-barbie? i have met all of you cock suckers but she’s new. if she’s not a welcome gift, what the fuck is she doing in here listening in?”

“shes one of us.” butcher gruffs, shuffling in his chair, antsy to start explaining his diabolical plans.

“yeah? what’s her thing? you fellas passin’ her around in whatever fuck-dungeon you hole up in?” he teases, and before anyone can say anything — you’re defending yourself.

“jesus christ, get with the fucking times, old man.”

soldier boy smirks, and a tense silence falls over the room — half expecting to watch you get thrown through the thin walls of the apartment at record breaking speed. surprisingly, after he’d taken an amused and analytical gaze your way — he leisurely turned his attention back to butcher. “alright, out with this plan. don’t have all day.” he drawls, taking another drag. you roll your eyes at the fact he literally has nothing else to do, and you’re sure he notices.

most of your interactions went that way after that. soldier boy would make some kind of demeaning or misogynistic comment, you’d snap back, he’d either be amused or weakly threaten you. it was like clock work, but seem to put everyone on edge every single time.

there were many times the boys thought you were done for, hurling names and insults at him when he’d caused them more harm than good — only to have him stroll right past you, uninterested in your girly tantrum and not even struggling to totally ignore you. sometimes you would irritate him, only to get a “brats like you need to be put in their place. i’m warning you.” and maybe he’d smirk because he could just sense your little clit twitching.

there was even a time all of you had to pile into one car, getting away quickly after a mission gone south. you were the last in, and there were no seats left for you.

“just fuckin’ get in would ya?” billy commanded loudly, trying to keep an eye on the oncoming commotion. soldier boy smirks, completely suited up, damn near taking up two seats in the backseat and pats his thigh, spreading his legs.

“i am not sitting on him. someone get in the trunk.” you argue, crossing your arms all spoilt.

“just grab her!” hughie exasperates from the passenger seat, used to your ways. without hesitation, soldier boy yanks you into the car with ungodly strength, pulling the door shut as they drive off. you wriggle and fight until he’s got you situated — the mountain of a bulge pressed up against your panties beneath your skirt, legs spread a little on his lap.

you give him a sulky look over your shoulder, and despite the chaos in the front of the car — he’s utterly relaxed and unbothered by everything that just unfolded. in fact, he leans back with that same smirk — adjusting his hips, nudging the fat lips of your pussy open through your panties with his bulge. he watches your eyes nearly roll back like a baby-doll.

you turn back to the front, irritated and overstimulated, breathing all heavy and mad. never in all his years has he seen a woman fight against her urges like you were. he puts his hands on your hips and you dig your nails into his skin, sustaining no damage. you scratch harder, tearing and attacking him like a baby kitten and he gazes happily out the window, unmoved.

you try to chime into the conversation up front, try to stay tuned — but everytime butcher carelessly flies over a speed bump you’re being practically forcefully dry fucked by the supe. you’re sure he could even feel you leaving a wet patch — and surprisingly, when you all pile out the vehicle solider boy doesn’t bring it up. the gratification of flustering you enough to keep him happy.

the breaking point comes when you’re appointed to ‘babysit’ him back at the hiding apartment. literally no one else is free, but they need someone there to make sure he’s where he needs to be. there’s nothing you could do to stop him from leaving, but whilst he agreed to stay there — you were sticking around to make sure he keeps his word, strictly told to alert one of the boys if he exits.

“look, i’m sorry. i would take your place but i have to help annie.” hughie stresses apologetically as they walk you up to the building.

“i’ll be fine.” you roll your eyes, more irritated that you were missing your nail appointment for this shit.

“and keep that mouth in check, yeah? i don’t fancy scraping your intestines off the walls so keep a lid on it today.” butcher warns, sending you a look before you run off.

when you walk in, he’s chowing down on a burger. so american.

“well if it isn’t my favourite.” he drawls, more interested in the TV.

“whatever. i’m here to babysit you.” you sark, setting down your purse and rifling through it for your phone charger, spotting the pink wire tangled at the bottom of your bag.

“babysittin’ huh? you certainly had the sitting part down last time i saw you. maybe today we can work on the baby part.” he chuckles at his own joke, bringing the mouth of his beer bottle to his lips.

“shutup. you know i had no choice.” you don’t know why you get so defensive, strutting over to block his view of the television — staring down at the hulk of the man resting with his feet up.

“that why i could feel your little pussy throbbing? beggin’ me to help her out? christ, maybe if you got some dick you’d quit bitching all the time.”

maybe he was right.

it’s how you end up blubbering on your back with the backs of your knees in his huge hands.

“shit, maybe i’ve been missin’ a trick with this young pussy stuff. fuckin’ perfect.” his heavy cock brushes your folds as he stretches your legs up into a humiliating pose, not caring for your sniffles and angry pouts. he pushes your knees up higher with an intrigued smirk. “you’re flexible, huh? what, were you a cheerleader in high school or something?”

“are you gonna fuck me or what?” you whine, so needy and petulant that it makes him smile.

“you modern girls. no patience.” he slaps his cock on your folds and you flinch. “relax. only polite to knock before i enter, right?”

[irb-pascalito-99]

Catch Me If You Can

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Smut, teasing, unprotected p in v, come play

Summary: Joel’s girl can’t stop staring at him while he’s fixing the table they broke.

A/N: This is an excerpt from Chapter Thirteen of my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more of this pairing visit a03.

I lean back and watch the muscles in Joel’s back flex as he drills new bolts into the table. Beads of sweat roll down his arms and create dark patches on his t-shirt. I crawl toward him and kiss his neck as he puts the drill down.

“I think you should do this with your shirt off,” I mumble against his skin.

My hands slide underneath his shirt, trailing up his stomach and chest. Joel chuckles. He leans back slightly to give me better access.

I grab the hem of his t-shirt and pull it over his head. He lifts his arms as I do. Joel allows me a couple more kisses before he starts to work on the table again.

I chew on my bottom lip while I watch him. Joel doesn’t have defined abs or the form of a bodybuilder, but there’s no mistaking he has muscles. His arms and back flex as he picks up another table leg to screw into place.

I offered help when he started, but he wouldn’t allow it. Now, he focuses on the task at hand. His eyebrows crease as he bolts the leg into place. He shakes it firmly to assure it is strong before moving on to the next one. He looks over his shoulder to see me still staring at the definition in his arms and back.

“Careful now, I’ll start thinkin’ you only want me for my body,” he jokes with a wink in my direction.

“I like you for more than your body,” I lean back against a nearby wall while Joel searches for the bolts for the next leg.

“Oh really, like what?” He asks. I roll my eyes at his obvious attempt for compliments, but happily play into it.

“Well, turns out you’re good at making furniture,” I joke. He laughs and shakes his head before screwing in the next bolts.

I could think of a million reasons why I like Joel. He’s unbelievably generous. He’s smart, but he doesn’t rub your face in it. He’s amazing with Sarah, and so understanding with Ellie. He’s the kind of man who fucks you so hard against a table it breaks, and then spends the next afternoon putting it back together again. When he pauses with the drill again I continue with an honest answer to his question.

“You make me feel safe,” I say. He puts the drill down and turns his full attention to me. “I don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. I can fall apart a little around you. You make me feel safe.”

I keep my eyes on the ground. I don’t want to see Joel’s reaction to my statement. I don’t want to know if it’s too much too soon. We sit in silence until he picks up the drill again.

“You make me feel safe too,” He says. I lift my eyes from the floor. He fumbles with the screws in his hands. “I’ve been focused on Sarah for so long. It’s nice to be able to let go a little sometimes, have somethin’ for myself you know?”

My heart flutters at the notion of being something he holds for himself, that I could be as important to him as he is to me. I know Joel loves deeply, and Sarah will always be the biggest thing in his life, but I hadn’t thought of how lonely it must have been for him over these last several years.

Obviously Sarah’s mom leaving had left a hole in their family, but Joel lost more than a co-parent. He lost a partner, a wife. He’s never talked about her in a romantic sense. He hasn’t mentioned her at all since the hospital. I haven’t wanted to push him into opening up, but something about this conversation feels different. It feels as though he’s offering me something here.

“Did you have that with Annie?” I ask. Joel’s shoulders tense, and I fear I may have misread things. “Was it ever just easy?”

Joel focuses on drilling the screws into the final leg before he answers me. My heart thumps in anxiety. I shouldn’t have pushed. The weekend was going so well. Why did I have to push my luck?

“I guess it was for a minute there, when we were just young kids livin’ our lives,” He examines his work, shaking the table legs again as he continues explaining. He doesn’t look at me while he talks. “She got pregnant so early into our relationship though, so it didn’t stay like that for long.”

I debate on leaving it like that. Joel is clearly uncomfortable, but I want to know him better. I hardly know his past at all.

“Why? What happened?” I ask.

Joel rubs his face and then wipes his hands on his jeans. He doesn’t shy away from the topic, but I can tell he wants the conversation to be over. From what I can tell after conversations with Tommy and Sarah, Joel doesn’t talk about Annie with anyone these days. I find that strange coming from a man who’s been so adamant that I open myself up to others.

“It was just a lot of pressure,” Joel grabs one end of the table and turns it back over to stand on it’s legs. “Neither of us knew what we wanted or how to handle it. Our parents were furious. We thought marriage was the best answer but neither of us were ready for it. It was a giant dose of real world issues shoved into our teenage romance, so no it wasn’t ready for long.”

“Tommy mentioned you guys were on your own with all that.” I respond. Joel turns to me with a slightly angered look on his face.

“It’s not Tommy’s place to be sharing that,” he says. I shrink back into the wall slightly. Joel’s anger immediately dissipates after seeing my reaction. “Sorry it’s just, a part of my life I don’t want you to have to deal with.”

I try not to be angry that he chooses to hide that part of his life from me, but I find myself wondering why he doesn’t think he can trust me with it. He seems so keen on knowing my secrets and holding my darkness. I wish he’d let me do the same for him.

He doesn’t give me any more room to press him on the topic, choosing instead to bring the energy in the room back up. He picks me up and carries me over to the table. I squeal and kick my legs in the air, caught off guard by suddenly being thrown over Joel’s shoulder.

When he sets me down he places me on the finished table and stands between my parted knees. He places his hands on the surface of the table bracketing my hips. His lips come forward to meet mine, pulling me in for a deep kiss when he shakes the table roughly again. It stays firm on the ground, no creaking or concerns that it might collapse.

“Now that’s a proper table,” he says with a grin. He pulls me in for another kiss, immediately deepening it and bringing me closer to the edge of the table. As the kiss gets more heated I push him away. “What?”

“We are not fucking on the table again Miller, you just fixed it.” Joel’s big brown eyes morph into a sad pleading expression, but I refuse to cave. Instead I shake my head and cross my arms.

“Oh come on,” He kisses my neck, biting down enough to leave a mark on the skin.

“Joel” I moan and throw my head back. When he moves to the other side of my neck I shake my head to clear it and crawl across the table to the other side.

He stands with his hands still on the table. I grin at him while he gives me a grumpy look on the other side of the wood.

“Not on the table,” I say cheekily.

When he starts to round the corner toward me I run off in the opposite direction, heading for the stairs. I giggle as I hear him start to run after me. I’m halfway up the stairs when I feel his hands grip my waist and pull me off my feet. I kick my feet in the air and squeal.

Joel places my knees on the ground. I grab the edge of the steps in front of me and gasp when he grabs the waistband of my leggings and underwear, pulling both down my thighs. The material gathers at my knees as he fumbles with his belt.

“Joel,” I whine. The tension pulls in my center so much it almost hurts. I can feel the center of my thighs becoming slick as my wetness drips down the inside.

“I know baby. I know, I’ll make it feel better.” Joel yanks his own pants down enough that his cock springs out.

His hard length presses against my back causing me to moan as I press back into him. What started out as playful banter has turned into overwhelming need. Joel runs his fingers along my folds, groaning loudly when he realizes how wet I am.

“Oh darlin’, you need it bad huh?” He mumbles huskily into my ear. I nod my head, pushing myself back against him again.

He chuckles in response as he brings his hand back to his cock. He pushes his length through my folds slowly. I push my body back into his hoping that he’ll begin to fill me. I let out a hiss when the head of his member brushes against my clit before he pulls back again.

After a couple thrusts his cock notches at my throbbing entrance. I’m panting as I wait for him to press forward, on the verge of tears from anticipation. He kisses my shoulder while he pushes just the tip inside and freezes again.

“Please, please, please, plea-” I beg, cut short from the delicious stretch of his cock inside me. I throw my head back on his shoulder as he thrusts forward. His hands grip my hips to hold me still while I tremble around him.

Once he’s filled me to the brim he pauses to let me adjust. My pussy flutters around his pulsing length. I could probably come just from this, but he soon retreats and slams his hips back into mine. He keeps his pace slow, but his thrusts hard and deep. Each one pushes the breath out of my lungs.

“Fuck, Joel.” I moan as he thrusts in again. “It feels so good, you feel so good inside me.”

“Yeah?” He pants. His hands slip on my hips as he struggles to maintain his grip through the combined sweat of our bodies. Words are becoming increasingly more difficult as the pleasure builds so I nod my head in response.

I feel my core tighten and clench around Joel’s cock. He groans and starts to thrust harder and slightly faster. His hand slips around my front to start making small circular motions on my clit. The coil inside me starts to tighten even more, causing me to lurch forward on the stairs.

I rest my forehead on the stairs as I call out for Joel, no longer aware or in control of what I’m saying. Whatever it is, it spurs him on more. My fingers pull at the threads of the carpet on the stairs, undoubtedly pulling chunks out as well, while Joel’s fingers speed and supply more pressure. Something snaps inside me. I scream as I let go. Joel grunts as my pussy throbs around him, and continues working me through my climax.

When I come down my body sags against the harsh angles of the stairs. The only thing keeping my hips from the ground is Joel’s hand wrapped around my waist. I can tell he’s close. His thrusts become sloppier as he moans louder with each one. I feel him pulse inside me and he grunts.

He quickly pulls out and turns my body around on the stairs. Joel’s hands grab the front of the shirt I’m wearing, his shirt I stole off the bedroom floor this morning, and yank it open. Buttons clatter along the walls and railing of the stairs as they fly away.

With my chest and stomach exposed to the open air, Joel brings his hand to his cock. He pulls it rapidly. I watch him through hooded eyes while he moans. His eyes wander over my figure splayed out in front of him. Once he looks up to see my face he lets go with a loud growl. His seed decorates my body in ribbons, continuing to pump his length until he has no more left to give.

He grabs the wall with one hand and the railing with another as he breathes heavily with his head hung. I commit the sight to memory, certain that this is what all the greatest painters in history saw when they decided to capture the beauty of man.

His breathing begins to slow down when he opens his eyes again. He brings them up to me and remains frozen as I trail one hand down to the mess he’s left on my skin. I collect his spend on my fingers and lock eyes with him as I bring it up to my mouth and suck my fingers dry. He looks about ready to collapse from the sight alone.

When I pull my fingers from my lips he leans down and kisses me gently. His tongue licks along my bottom lip before slipping inside my mouth. As he pulls away a string of saliva connects us and then splits, seeking in the coarse hairs of his beard.

He stands up first, pulling his pants back up, and then helps me back to my feet. Joel pulls my leggings and underwear back up for me as I wobble on my legs. I keep my grip on the railing so I don’t fall. Over half the buttons on the shirt I was wearing are now hidden in the carpet of the stairs, so it remains open while I attempt to climb back up the stairs. Joel lets me try for a minute before picking me up and carrying me to bed for a nap.

To read more visit a03.

[fangirl-writes]

Small Spaces

JJ Maybank x Reader; John B. Routledge x Routledge!Reader

Warning(s): claustrophobia, anxiety attack, swearing

Request: jj maybank dating jb’s twin sister and her joining in on their adventures but she has severe anxiety so just him being super sweet and loving to her?

Notes: This is totally based on another fic I read that I can't find rn but it's my spin on it so I hope you like.

Fuck this, you thought. Seriously, fuck this.

You were squeezing yourself through a small hole in a mausoleum that had "Redfield" written across the top, just to see what was inside.

For John B., of course, because he was your brother, and he needed to find this clue almost as much as he needed to be breathing.

But god damn it, this was all you needed.

Between the near visit from child services, the hurricane, the dead guy's boat, the guy's gun, getting shot at, and surely more to come, you were due for a panic attack.

Your feet hit the ground with a loud smack and you winced at the noise.

"Still alive?" John B. asked.

"Oh my god, shut up,"

"Yep, she's alive."

You rolled your eyes and took the flashlight that Kie was offering you.

You shined the light around the space, bigger than you were expecting, but the fact that your exit was so small and that it would be a struggle getting back to it was making the anxiety stir in your stomach.

"Y/N? You okay?" JJ asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you replied. "What exactly am I looking for?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

"Real helpful, JB," you mumbled, shining the flashlight around and trying to focus on finding whatever it was rather than the darkness and the walls that felt like they were going to close in on you.

You gasp when a flash of white catches your eye.

"Y/N? You okay?" JJ asked

"Oh my god," you whispered.

"Y/N?" JJ asked again. "I'm gonna need some word confirmation that you're okay."

"Yeah, I-I'm fine," you replied. "I think I found it."

"What? Really?" John B. said, peaking into the space you'd crawled into.

You pulled out a long white envelope from a small space in the crypt, the words "FedEx" and "Bird" written on it.

Thanks for including me, Dad, you thought before taking the envelope over to the space and handing it to John B.'s outstretched hand.

"That's not gold," Pope said, a little disappointed.

But John B. was looking at it like it was. "Holy shit."

"JJ, a little help?" you said, reaching a hand through the space.

"Yeah, yeah, I gotchu, babe," he replied, helping you out of the crypt.

"This is from our dad," John B. said, looking around at the group.

"Yeah," you said, trying to catch your breath. "To you."

"Code red. Code red." JJ warned, the smoke from his joint fluttering up into the air. "Square groupers! Square groupers!"

Your stomach drops as the five of you start moving, JJ's hands grabbing your arms rougher than he probably meant to.

"It's the guys who robbed your house," JJ said.

Fuck, you think. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You guys hide on the side of the mausoleum, turning off and tucking the lights under your shirts.

You can feel it start to bubble up, your breathing becoming unsteady.

"Hey, I see something!"

"Do you think it's them?" Kiara asked.

"Homie's got a gun," JJ said as he and John B. peaked around the corner.

"Screw this," Kie said, taking off. The others followed her, including you, who was on the verge of breaking down.

"Right here!" One of the men shouted.

JJ's hand was on your back the whole time, but it did nothing to calm you down.

You each scaled the fence with little trouble except for Pope, who got his pants stuck on the gate.

It was funny until you were in the van and that anxiety attack had caught up with you, the adrenaline fix going away.

Your hands shook. Your chest tightened. Tears began streaming down your cheeks.

You were starting to hyperventilate, and your head was spinning. Even though you knew you were safe in the Twinkie now, you couldn't help the dread that was washing over you, the fear for your life that coiled around you like a snake.

"Hey, hey, hey, Y/N," JJ said, quickly catching on to what was happening. "You're okay, you're okay."

He made you look at him and took a few deep breaths for you to copy, which you did over and over.

"Shit, get this joint out of here," JJ said, handing it off to Pope.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" he asked.

"Throw it out the window or something, get it outta here. It only makes her worse."

You'd tried that anecdote before, and, as he said, it really did only make the panic attack worse. Through trial and error, JJ and John B. found the only things that helped you through a panic attack were calming words, help getting your breathing back to normal, and hugs.

So, JJ did just that. He held you close and whispered in your ear, rocking you back and forth slowly.

John B. checked your state in the rearview, feeling bad that he'd brought you along at all, even if you had insisted. Then he looked at the envelope sitting next to him and knew that, somehow, it would be worth it.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

AN: As we draw close to Christmas and the end of the year, here's your reminder to be the person you wish there was more of in the world.

CW: Smut, fem receiving oral, sex toys, undiscussed video call sharing, val is mentioned.

Summary: When Vox seems to lose interest in you and your undefined relationship, you take yourself out to the bar after a fight. An unlikely heroine saves you from a rather crude man with too much interest in you. After a few drinks and spilling your story, she takes you back to her place to show you that you had options.

“Vox!” you yelled, stomping after your boyfriend, lover, whatever the fuck he was.

 Each time your heels slammed the wooden floor, it seemed to fracture the warmth that you had built in this space. You hadn’t defined the relationship and fuck; you needed to. What exactly he was would determine if you were even right to be upset with the man you had been spending most of your days and nights with for the last six or so months. 

He had been there whenever he wasn’t working. He kept you on his arm, doted on you. He gave you gifts and pleasure and now he wasn’t, and it was pissing you off. Under the rolling ball of rage in your gut was something worse, something that hurt if you looked at it for more than a second. It was a sea of sadness and fear that you were becoming boring, routine, fading into the background of Vox’s life. 

He had been… absent. Disengaged. Even when fucking, the fire, passion and desire seemed… forced. You could see the spinning wheel of programs running in the background, the slight flicker of his screen as he switched from task to task. 

It wasn’t even Christmas day yet, and you were losing him, his heart. His interest, his time- you were losing it all. 

“I’ve got work to do, dollface.” Vox didn’t even bother looking back at you. “You don’t need me to go to the bar with you.” 

“You’re right.” Your voice turned cold as you stood, feeling very much like he had slapped you. “I don’t need you to go to the bar with me.” 

“Glad we got that established.” Vox walked out of the penthouse you had been spending more and more time alone in as time went on. He didn’t look back at you. He didn’t slow. He didn’t even say goodbye. He just… walked out. 

“I don’t need you to,” you whispered, your heart breaking in your chest as the door closed behind him. “I wanted you to.” 

~~~~~<3

The music was louder than you would have liked for a night out on your own, but the bar itself was pretty tame, all things considered. You had to do some searching, not bothering to put any effort into hiding where you were going. 

Maybe… maybe Vox was watching. He did that, sometimes. Less now than he had before, but… he would watch what you were up to online. Maybe he would look and see. Maybe he would join you. 

You typed “I miss you” and searched. Of course, the results were several books and songs, none that you gave a shit about. With a sigh, you cleared the search bar and continued your mission, finding the small hole in the wall bar you where you currently sat. 

You’d been there for over an hour and Vox hadn’t showed up. It stung, but you that didn’t surprise you. You wanted it to, but… it didn’t. Whatever it was you had with Vox, it was dying and that was killing you. He was tired of you and you… you’d fallen in love with him. 

Stupid. Satan help you, you were stupid. 

“Heeey,” a man slid up next to you at the bar. “What’s a sexy thing like you doing here?” 

“Drinking,” you answered coldly, doing little more than glancing at him. 

“What, couldn’t get into one of the ritzy clubs?” the man pressed, scooting closer to you. You, in turn, scooted away. 

“What I can and cannot get into isn’t your concern.” You finished your drink quickly before slipping off the stool.

“I know what I can get into.” The man’s words slurred as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“No, thank you,” you said as you turned, preparing to slip off the seat. 

As soon as your feet hit the ground, his arm was around your waist. Your back hit his chest, hips grazing his thighs. “Come on, baby. I can show you a good time.” 

“I believe she told you to fuck off.” Velvette’s voice cut through the voice of the club like a knife, commanding obedience even as she sounded frankly bored. The man’s hands left you as if the sound burned him. 

No one in their right mind would cross the Vee’s, even the more peaceful of the three. Doing so would earn them death or financial ruin, depending on their mood at the time. In hell, it was hard to say,which was worse. 

“Piss off,” Velvette said, shoulders square and head held high as she stepped closer to you while keeping her eyes on the man. “You’re in my fucking seat.” 

“There are other seats.” The man failed to muster the same confidence he had as he accosted you when speaking to the powerful fashion overlord. 

“Great!” Velvette clapped her hands once, a cold smile cutting across her black painted lips. “There are plenty of other seats for you then!” 

The man hesitated, standing but lingering in front of the stool. Velvette took a step forward, stomping her heel as her foot hit the ground. The crack of her heel on the wooden floor sent the man running. 

“Thank you.” You watched with wide eyes as Velvette took the man’s seat. 

“It’s whatever.” She waved her hand through the air as if she could physically bat the thanks away. “Sit down and drink with me.” 

You knew better than to disobey. Velvette was one of the more sane of the Vees, but she was still known to go off at a moment’s notice. Your night sucked balls already. You would not tempt fate. Plus, after her scaring away your latest admirer, you did somewhat owe her. 

“Why aren’t you with your flat-faced prince?” She motioned, taking the drink she had ordered up in her hand. 

“He’s got a meeting. Business.” You tried to sound like it didn’t bother you. You tried to sound like you didn’t care. 

“Shit sucks,” Velvette mused. 

“Yeah.” You sighed, a long weary sound. “It does.” 

One drink turned into shots, the two laughing over the terrible fashion choices of everyone in the bar. It felt good to have a friend, a fellow woman, to pass the time with. It was.. nice. 

“Why are you here, anyway?” you asked as giggles subsided. 

“Checkin on you.” Velvette shrugged. “Haven’t seen you around lately. What the fuck is up with that?” 

“Oh,” your face fell.

“Oh, hoe- you better spill your tea. What the fuck is going on with you and Vox?” Velvette motioned for more drinks for the both of you. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted, shoulders sagging. “He’s been so busy with work and… I just feel like an afterthought. I don’t know. Hell, I don’t know if he even sees me anymore or if I’m just another thing hanging around the penthouse. Sometimes, I think he wouldn’t notice if I wasn’t there.” 

“Shiiit.” Velvette let the word drag on, watching you with wide eyes. “And you still want him?” 

“I… I don’t know.” You shoved your hands through your hair before looking at her again. “I- I do. I love him. I just, fuck- I don’t know.” 

“Shit, the sex must be mind blowing.” Velvette whistled as she sipped her pink cocktail. You gave her a look, surprise clearly written on your face. “What?” 

“I thought… I mean, Vox and Valentino are a thing. I thought that-” You didn’t know how best to tell your powerful new friend that you had assumed she was also fucking your not boyfriend boyfriend. 

“Oh, ew- babe- no.” Velvette laughed. “I don’t fuck with men. You know why?” 

“Why?” You leaned in. 

“Because men leave you like this. You know who isn’t going to give you the runaround like this? A fuckin chick.” Velvette downed the rest of her drink. “Ever given a chick a shot?” 

“N-no.” Heat rose to your cheeks as Velvette looked at you very intentionally. 

“Do you want to?” she offered.

“I’ve- I don’t… What about Vox?” 

Velvette laughed, head thrown back as she grabbed your hand, pulling you off your stool as she stood. “Did you and Vox ever agree to be monogamous?” 

“Well, no…” You let her drag you toward the door.

“And he’s still fucking around with Val, isn’t he?” Velvette looked back at you, a wicked smile full of promise as she spoke. 

“I mean, sure…” The hot humid air of hell washed over you as she pulled you out of the bar. 

“Then let’s go babe. I’ll show you a good time and maybe after, Vox’ll remember why it’s important to lock down what he wants to keep to himself.” 

~~~~~<3

Velvette kissed you as soon as you stepped into her penthouse apartment. Fashion magazines and fabric swatches littered the space. Drawings of concepts were left lying around as if they were worth nothing. 

Kissing a woman didn’t feel as foreign as you had expected. Her soft lips moved against yours, sharp black lipstick smudging as she led you to her bedroom. Everything about her was softer, even as she gripped you tightly. 

Her hands found the zipper of your dress, knowing exactly where to reach since she had designed the piece herself. You shuddered, nervous even through the fog of cocktails, as she sent your dress to the ground. 

“Vox has all this and is too busy fucking off with work?” Velvette whistled, reaching behind her back to undo her dress. “I’ll never understand men.” 

She pulled you onto her bed, finding enjoyment from your timid nature. It was cute whenever someone had their first time. Smoothe skin ran along smoothe skin as you timidly touched her. 

She held you, guiding your hand to cup her breasts and run along the curves of her waist as she did the same to you. 

“Bloody hell, you’re a sexy thing.” Velvette smiled as you grew bolder, eagerer in your touches. “What would you think about eating pussy?” 

“I’ve- I’ve never, but I can try.” Your stomach tied itself in knots as you helped Velvette shimmy out of her lacy thong. 

“I’ll help you through it,” Velvette said as she laid back, spreading her legs. “Just think about all those things you wish Vox would do and do them. Promise babe, I’ll make you feel real good after. It ain’t no one-way street with me.” 

Her pussy was shaved bare like a doll, spread open and waiting for you as you crawled between her legs. You licked your lips, looking at her for a moment longer. Velvette had what you thought could be the most photogenic pussy you had ever seen, not that you looked at a lot of them. 

You were terrified of what you were about to do. Not the act itself, though considering you had always just assumed you were straight, perhaps you should have been. More than anything, you were terrified of doing a poor job and being ripped apart for it. 

“Go on, get on with it now.” Velvette urged. 

You took one last deep breath and started. They always said starting was the hardest part. In this case, they were right, whoever the hell ‘they’ were. The taste of her wasn’t terribly different from when you’d taste yourself smeared over Vox’s fingers. 

Velvette was a good teacher, eager to drop soft direction and share when you did something right. She never made you feel like you were subpar or that she was just putting up with your attempt. 

“Lookie here,” Velvette said, catching your attention. 

Your eyes fluttered open, looking up at her to find her phone camera pointed down at you. Your eyes went wide as your face grew hot. 

“Don’t worry babe, it’s for your flat-faced prince.” 

“Who are you talking to, Vel?” On the screen, Velvette smiled as Vox finally looked at the screen. Your name came loud and clear from the speakers. 

“Don’t stop,” Velvette ordered, and you were just drunk enough to close your eyes and do as she said, doing your best to will the knowledge that your… whatever Vox was to you was watching you eat a woman for the first time in your life. 

“You see, Vox.” Velvette ran her fingers through your hair, softly urging you to continue every time your ministrations grew timid. “I found your little toy out on her own and thought to myself, ‘well, if Vox isn’t going to play with her, maybe I should?’ And wouldn’t you know it- she’s a quick learner?” 

“Oh,” Velvette arched her back as you sucked on her clit, “Just like that bebe.” 

You did the one thing that was so hard for men to do- you continued doing exactly what you were doing until Velvette was moaning, fingers wrapped in your hair as she rocked her hips against your face. 

She pulled you back by your hair as the twitching muscles of her pussy relaxed. She held her phone up, ensuring Vox could see as she sat up as well, meeting you in the middle for a hot, slick kiss. 

She pushed you back, guiding you to rest your head on her pillows. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Vox snapped as Velvet reached into her drawer, grabbing a dildo of considerable size, a small vibrator, and a bottle of lube. 

“I’m going to blow her mind,” Velvette laughed as she worked your panties down your hips. “Since apparently you’ve been too busy working to do it.” 

Velvette set her phone on one of the stands she seemed to have everywhere, ensuring Vox had a good view. While he sat alone and working, she lubed up the dildo. 

You blushed as she nestled the head of the large cock against your slick opening. This was so unlike any sex you had had before, so painfully intimate to be seen in such a way of knowing that she wasn’t being stimulated in any other way while she filled you. 

It made you feel naked and desired in a way… Vox hadn’t in a long time. 

“F-fuck, Vel-velvette.” Your hips rocked as you spread your legs more, making more room for her. “It’s too big.” 

“Shh, babe, I won’t make you take it all.” Velvette watched as your pussy slid over the artificial cock, taking great satisfaction in knowing that she was filling you with something thicker than Vox had in his pants. 

She pushed forward, pushing the head deeper and deeper until she felt that resistance that told her she had reached as far as your body had to give at the moment. It was your first time;, she wanted to make sure it was good for you before she pushed your body to its limits. 

She used one hand to thrust the cock in and out of you as she scooted forward, shoving her knees under your legs. She grabbed the vibrator in her other hand as your legs draped over her thighs. 

You moaned, the stretch delicious, but spreading you to what you were sure was the limit of what you could physically take. Your pussy squelched as the dildo moved in and out of you, pace firm and quickening. The vibrator buzzed to life as Velvette looked back at the phone. 

“How quick can you make her cum?” She asked Vox, not bothering to try to hear the answer. “I bet I can make her cum in a few short minutes.”

“Oh,” your head fell to the side as the buzzing head of the vibrator landed on your clit, sending sharp stimulation directly through you. “Oh, shit.” 

The buzzing increased, vibrations becoming more powerful as Velvette fucked you with the thick dildo. Your fingers gripped the blanket as she worked your pussy, driving you quickly toward an orgasm. 

“Oh, Oh, Oh shit, oh fuck.” your walls fluttered, gripping the dildo, begging it for something it couldn’t go. 

“Fuck Babe.” Velvette watched with eager eyes as your nails dug into your own thighs, leaving red trails as you came. “You’re fucking pretty when you cum.” 

She slowed the thrusting, backing off on the vibration setting as she worked you through your aftershocks. You gasped for air, chest rising and falling with the force of the breaths. 

“Fuck,” Vox moaned, voice nearly lost to the low volume on Velvette’s phone.

“If your flat-faced prince doesn’t get the memo that you’ve got options now, babe- you come back to me,” Velvette spoke as she climbed up your body, settling herself against your side. She kissed you deeply as you turned into her, holding her as much as she held you. “You still there, Vox?” 

Vox moaned as he answered, “I am.” 

“Fuck, you’re getting off to this?” Velvette laughed before kissing you again, harder. “If you don’t get your shit together, I’m stealing your girl. You got that? I’ll give her all the one-on-one attention she wants and can make her cum in under a minute. I’ll make your dick obsolete.” 

“Shit, Vel. We can work out a deal.” The sound of soft thumping came from the speaker, so slight that you almost couldn’t hear it. 

“No deal, Vox. She’s an all-or-nothing kind of girl.” Velvette’s attention focused on you, kissing you again. “Aren’t you, babe?” 

“Yeah,” you sighed as her hand ran down the curves of your sides. 

“Fucking figure it out, Vox.” Velvette ordered. “VoxTek, end call.” 

You didn’t hear the beep of the phone call disconnecting over the buzz of the vibrator returning to life. Velvette had no intention of letting you sleep anytime soon. The both of you had a long night ahead of you. If Velvette had her way, you wouldn’t be able to pick Vox without at least a moment of second thoughts. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[retiredteabag]

The Open Window Lets The Rain In

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3

pairing: satoru x reader (semi suguru x reader)

synopsis: Your time at Jujutsu Tech was something of a sanctuary for you. The position you were born for did not allow you wishes of your own. Resigning yourself to your destiny, you savor the moments you have with your friends. And don't dare to wish for more.

tags/warnings -angst to eventual fluff, multi pov, canon compliant, series, mentions of child abuse, manipulation, malnutrition, violence, injuries, and smoking-

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

In your younger, and more venerable years, you would have never left the estate unattended. Maybe that is why, after everything that unraveled today, the lingering thought on your mind was how strange it felt to not fear solitude unchained.

"Do you ever feel like...she's not fully there?" Suguru murmured, filing through his bag, unpacking into his dorm once again. The boys had just made it back from the bullet train to Tokyo.

The summer break had been a nice respite for the two strongest, but there was nothing they enjoyed more than being in school, cracking jokes, and wasting time together.

"Huhh? Suguru, you seriously think too much." Satoru rolled his eyes beneath his glasses. He was splayed across Geto's bed, staring at the ceiling. "What does that even mean?" He giggles.

"Just-" Suguru sighs, "I don't know." He shakes his head in a 'never mind' type of way, and pulled out his uniform jacket, going to hang it up in the closet.

"Ughhhhh don't do that Suguru, you know you get in your head, right? Just say what you mean." Satoru pulled himself up and took off his shades, watching as Geto stretched his jacket onto a hanger.

Geto pauses to think, "You remember when Shoko was talking about marriage and stuff?" He began.

It had been in the middle of second year, the group had just been getting to know you. You had been starting to feel at home in Tokyo. One warm day, you and Shoko were laying out in the school yard, sunbathing and giggling about nonsense.

"They're trying to pull me away from missions, ya know? Totally sucks, I feel like I'm gonna be missing out." Shoko sighed, her eyes closed.

You both were on your backs, you turn to face her and grin, "You're just too important Ieiri, can't be loosing our precious healer!" But Shoko doesn't laugh.

"I just hate all this 'duty stuff'. I don't want to be...I don't know..." She runs a hand down her face. "Holed up in a lab all my life while my classmates eliminate curses and- and save people."

You continue to stare in her direction, hoping she'll meet your eyes. "You are saving people E, you must know that. Don't let the fomo get to you."

"I do, of course, but... I don't want to be valuable like this. I want... ugh" She cuts herself off as the two boys in your class make there way into the courtyard. Satoru takes gaping steps in the grass.

"What do you want Shoko? Hmm??" He squats down and hides her face from the sun. She attempts to shove him back but infinity gets in her way and she grimaces. "I want you to mind your own business, Gojo."

"Awe you're no fun." Gojo pouts. Plopping himself to your left. "What are you girls whining about anyway. It's so somber out here."

Neither of you said anything, you didn't want to speak about something Shoko didn't want to share. "Are we discussing our dreams, ladies?" He turned to look at you but you just roll your eyes. "Suguru?" He calls in a high pitch voice, "Suguru, have you got a dream?"

"Screw off, Gojo." Shoko sat up and threw Satoru a dirty look.

"Just askin'. I'll have you know I dream about my Digimon trading collection all the time."

The four of you sat in silence for awhile. It was strange, being amongst a group friends and not feeling left out. Eventually Shoko turned to look at Geto. He was always kinder.

"Have you got a dream?" She asked.

Gojo made a puking noise, "Oh my goooooshh not this again, I was kidding you know."

Suguru rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess I do, if you're talking about outside of the Jujutsu world."

"Do share with the class." She smiled. Satoru threw a silent tantrum, pulling up a chunk of grass at your side.

"It's pretty typical. Get married, fall in love, the normal stuff."

That really sent Satoru over the edge. "You've GOT to be kidding me." He wheezed. Suguru just raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Oh, you are soooo cringy." He plopped himself back on the grass and made one of the blades into a kazoo.

"Don't listen to him Geto, he's immature."

"AM NOT!"

You all chuckle. Eventually Shoko nods, "Yeah. That sounds nice." The two of them share a moment of ease before she finishes, "Sounds...normal."

You can hear Gojo mentally plugging his ears at this discussion. But eventually Shoko looks down at you. "What about you," she calls your name. "Do you want a family and all that?"

You were hoping she wouldn't have said anything. You were content to hear them speak about their perfectly attainable dreams. But you weren't sure if you were comfortable enough to bear your true feelings out in the open like this.

"Ummm..." You mumble. Having also taken up anxiously pulling at the weeds in the lawn, you fiddle with some between your fingers. "Meh, ya know?"

You shrug, twisting your lips. Shoko does look at you this time, "Meh? Really? I would have though you would be a total romantic!" She pushes at your shoulder and you smile.

"Well, I don't know..." You wish the boys weren't there to hear about all this, but they had gone silent. Listening intently. Even Gojo appeared to have his eyes closed, not interrupting this time.

Shoko pokes at your side, "What do you mean you don't know.... oh my gosh don't tell me-" She gasps, covering her mouth with her hand, "did you get your heart broken over in Kyoto?!" She leans in closer to grasp your shoulders, shaking you violantly. You break out in giggles at the thought.

"No! N-no, Shoko!" You laugh.

"Well what is it? Even the big guy over here got all cheesy." She pulls back and smacks Geto in the chest.

In the moment of light humor, you puff out a breath, "It's not that, its just..." You try to find the words. Knowing they wouldn't understand but hoping they might. "That type of stuff isn't really in the cards for me."

It took a moment but it seemed as though time stopped. It got quiet and Shoko hesitated before laughing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The sun suddenly feels too bright behind your eyelids, you lift yourself up, crossing your arms over your knees, grateful Satoru is still laying prone on the grass below you. "I'm not really..." you hesitate, trying to be nice, "The same at you guys."

Shoko laughs again but it's clear she's confused. She yanks at your ear, and you pretend to smile while tugging her hand away. "I have a...I don't know...I have a life laid out for me, right?" You turn to your right and see Shoko and Geto staring at you now, brows furrowed.

"No, no, no, its not- ugh this is coming out wrong..." You giggle, adjusting your hair, suddenly flustered by their avid attention. "I just... hate the idea of loving someone and then...dying, right? That would be pretty bad..." You mumble off.

There's silence and it's starting to feel awkward again, just as you're about to break it and apologize, Suguru speaks up.

"You can still marry though. I mean...your life isn't just Jujutsu."

You smile at him. "Right..." You agree, but you know he's wrong. They would never understand. The only person who might is Satoru, and he wouldn't talk about it, even if he wanted to.

Because, Suguru is wrong, your life IS Jujutsu, it was what you were born and bred to do. The scars on your neck stand as proof. You were nothing more than a weapon.

And wishing for more would give you nothing but unnecessary hope to eventually be crushed under the weight of reality.

--

That had been almost a year ago now, Satoru couldn't believe Suguru was still thinking about that time. Gojo hates thinking about it, actually. And he certainly didn't want to be talking about it right now.

"Yeah. I remember, why are you bringing that up?"

Suguru puts his clothing into the closet and kicks a pair of shoes under a desk on his way back to his duffle. "Just that, I don't think she really confides in us. I feel like she's being used by the higher-ups."

Gojo stops flipping his sunglasses around in his hands and shoves them up on top of his head. "Really, Suguru." His voice is lower than usual. He's looking directly at the boy before him, and he shoves himself off the bed as he proclaims, "You're an idiot if you think she's the only one."

--

While you're classmates were unpacking at school, you still had to wait the full deration of break before returning to your sanctuary. You had spent the day meticulously preparing your few items for the return journey. Moseying throughout the establishment you had been raised in.

Today you would be seeing your one and only friend that knew you fully.

You had always felt comfortable in the silence with Kaito. In your first year back from school, the boy wanted nothing more than to hear of your adventures learning your technique, of your daily life, of the friends you had made.

It was not uncommon for the pair of you to fantasize of a life beyond the boarding you grew up within, but as your naivety fled from you, so too fled the wishful dreams you carried in your youth.

You had always assumed Kaito felt the same...

It started the night before summer breaks end. Kaito told you to meet him in the far gardens that next morning. Him, unwatched as an unskilled member of the staff, you, now too important to be enslaved to the ring. You were thrilled to be able to have a moment alone. To feel normal, to feel like friends... like kids.

Kaito seemed off even then. Asking you with a far away look about your time in Tokyo. About the sorcerers you met, about your new life.

Hours later, you would sit, alone in the garden playing back the words you had shared.

"They work us to the bone, Kai, sometimes I wish I was still here with you." You had said.

You hadn't meant it. Every day you were at Jujutsu Tech was an insurmountable gratitude. There was almost nothing you would give it up for. But Kaito was still stuck at the estate, only a few months left in his contract, and you didn't want to flaunt the joy he had yet to experience away from the place.

"Can't be that bad..." He gave you a faraway smile.

"I'm serious" you fibbed, "It's like I'm always on a mission, and when I'm not, I'm stressing over all the homework they give us." You roll your eyes, not looking back to the boy fiddling with his hands.

He looked so much like a man now. "You would probably do well there, Kai, you were always smarter than me." You make to look at him but notice he's fallen behind, focused on a patch of weeds growing behind a fence.

You make to call for him but he beats you, muttering your name, and some unintelligible phrase.

"What?" You turn fully now, taking a step towards him.

He swallows. "You don't have to go back." He says with more finality.

And you don't know what to say.

He can't be serious. You were well past pretending to have a life of your own. You chuckle, thinking he must be joking. "Why, should we run off and join the circus?"

There is nothing but humor in your words, but his eyes are more serious then you've ever seen them. And suddenly you know what was coming. Perhaps it had always been there, but you simply could not allow him to say it. You're filled with panic at the thought.

Later you would sit on a stepping stone, pulling up grass like Satoru once had, knowing that there had been nothing you could have said to have prevented it from happening, but at the time, you couldn't help but try.

He says nothing. Looking at you with intensity.

"No." You want to turn away from him. Shut the whole discussion in a box and never think about it again. But you stare at him with might. Begging him to see the severity of your expression. "No. Kai, no."

"Please." And then he's begging you. Just like he used to when you would tell him to not patch up your wounds. Like he used to when you would give him too much of your food. Like he used to when the teachers would torture you for something so trivial. He says your name again.

"Please." He calls to you, "Don't you see, it's always been you. You're all there is for me, you're all I want." And though you hear his words, you have already deigned to ignore them. Still, he does not stop.

"You have to know." He keeps calling your name, hoping you would soften, "I would do anything." "Stop." You've chosen a new tactic. Perhaps if you are mean. Mean to him and he won't say it.

But he says it anyway.

"You're all I have ever loved."

And there it is.

"Kai." You close your eyes. Hoping this is a nightmare.

"I've already thought about it!" He's known you long enough to tell you are attempting to block him out, "We could do it. I've saved up, and I'm of age now, listen-" He smiles painfully "-you don't have to go..."

He's coming closer to you but you're stumbling back. Refusing to allow yourself any comfort.

You have to try, "You don't... get it." You whisper.

"I do. I do!" He raises his hands. "I promise you, we could do it. Come with me! Let me...let me show you." He reaches for your hand but you spin from him, stumbling.

"Please stop... I can't- I can never- you don't see." You are unsure of how to say it. This has all come as a shock.

But then he's grabbing your shoulders and spinning you around. He's looking you dead in the face. Those words coming from him like a dam you cannot contain. "I love you. I am in love with you. Please. Please don't go back. You don't have to fulfill-" He laughs, feeling enlightened, "Sorcery. You don't have to do it."

Even through his laughter though, you know. He knows. You both do. That there might have been something there. Maybe because you shared each other's struggles. Maybe it was strung in after all those hours together in that hell... but you both also know it would never work.

Because your destiny has already been chosen for you. And you were not made to love, or be loved.

"We could be married. And be done with it." He looks so certain and there is a tiny, muted part of you that wants to believe him. "Don't go back..."

And despite your knowledge of that muted space in your heart, the overwhelming response has been waiting for him to finish.

"We can't." And a stupid part of you wants that to be enough. For him to turn from you and never speak of it again.

But Kai has always been resilient in his own way.

"We can! I love you.... do you hear me? We can-"

"No. Kai. Stop." You pull your hand to put distance between you two.

And after years with the boy, you can see the emotions raise in him. "Is there someone else?" His gaze falls, "Someone... at that school?"

And this being his reply draws out the most ridiculous laugh from you. Does he think that is why you're turning him down? That you've fallen for some other man?

"No! Kai, please. No." But the humor is far from your voice.

The silence that follows is painful.

"This is so-ugh...Kaito. Don't you get it?" You're looking at him, gently now, but he just seems incredulous.

"Don't you see I can never marry?" There.

And oddly enough, though you were certain you had come to terms with it, it feels good to say it out loud.

"I have a path laid out before me." Before he can interrupt you shove out your hand, "And I care too deeply for you to put you in a position like that."

You're resolved. And maybe he's finally seeing it now.

"I'll never be able to live that way. God, Kai, I thought you knew!" You roll your eyes. Hoping to play the whole garden fiasco off but he won't turn from you.

"No." He's shaking his head. And suddenly he looks more like a boy than he has in years.

"Yes. Kaito. You will find some girl and love her, and live long lives together, and be happy. I am certain. But that life... we are different in this way." He hasn't stopped shaking his head.

"You're wrong. You don't see it now... but you will." And for the first time this evening he isn't making sense to you, "You will find it...and live that way. I'm sure."

"Kaito..." You sigh. But he's done now. And it has ended poorly for both of you it seems.

He's turned from you.

"You're leaving. Today, aren't you, on the train?"

You swallow thickly. Nod, and finally say, "Yes." Instead of 'I have to".

"There's nothing." His shoulders shake. And he hiccups. "There isn't anything I could say. To change your mind, is there?"

Everything in you is saying to follow him now. To wrap your arms around him like you did when he was a small child. To say something about your duty to make this a little better.

But if you are kind now, perhaps he will never let this go... and that, that is more cruel than anything you could say. So instead of being kind, all you say is,

"No. There's nothing."

And then he's gone. And he's left you alone in the garden.

It takes hours for your first tears to fall.

And you miss your train.

--

Four and a half hours away in Tokyo your friends eat dinner.

As they eat, they wonder where you are and why you haven't come.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

taglist @giyuuuuuu4ever

[slippinmickeys]

The Unseelie Court (16/16)

Scully immediately turned to Mulder who rose woozily to his feet, his hand looking small in Aeon’s massive paw.

“Are you okay?” she asked. 

He turned his body experimentally, wincing, and brought a hand to his side. 

“I think I may have a bruised rib,” he said on a truncated breath.

“Oh, Mulder,” Scully said, rubbing a hand up and down his arm, the fleecy material of his pullover soft in her fingers. 

Her heart was coming down from her swivet, her head still swirling with surprise and fear, but she found Mulder’s gaze centered her and stilled the bits of her that were still shaky. 

Aeon grunted and made his way for the door. 

Mulder called out. “Wait!”

Scully could hear her own preoccupations echoing in his voice. Rolled and manipulated and used in the machinations of higher beings, they felt owed some kind of denouement. 

Aeon turned back to him.

“Is that it?” Mulder asked. “Is it…is it done?”

“It’s done.”

“But, what…” Mulder shot Scully a baffled, helpless look.

The fuck just happened, which Scully also wanted to know. 

“Will everyone remember now?” she asked, thinking she didn’t want any dings on her record that she hadn’t earned. 

Aeon shook his head. “No one will.”

The partners exchanged another glance. 

“Then how?” Mulder asked. “Why do we?”

Scully, recalling the leaf in her pocket, reached in and pulled out the evidence bag. The leaf was gone. 

“You were supposed to submit that for evidence,” Aeon said, looking disappointed. “You two have managed to subvert both my expectations and my magic. I’ll be glad to see the backs of you.”

Scully debated whether or not to take some pride in that. The feeling was mutual. Though he’d helped them in the end, the dream ‘warnings’ he’d sent were cryptic at best, befuddling at worst. The fae seemed to operate on an entirely different plane of social communication and mores.

“So you’re Seelie Court, and Avery was…” Mulder trailed off, looking a little gray. “I’m starting to understand.”

“You understand nothing,” Aeon said, haughty and dismissive. 

Scully turned to him. That wasn’t fair. 

“We understand more than most,” she said. 

“We’ve seen things—” Mulder started.

Aeon shook his head and took a step back toward them. 

“You’ve seen things,” he scoffed, looking at them both with extreme derision, one, then the other.

“Deep in the earth, under the mantle and into the core,” he said, his cloak shimmering with the conviction of his words, “there is a vine that grows, invasive and malignant.” Mulder audibly swallowed. “It has been growing since time began, and every now and then in our history and in yours, it breaks the surface, and lives for a time, absorbing energy and whispering a hateful tune to anyone whose ear has turned toward it.” Aeon made a gesture with his hand and the tenor of the room felt suddenly quite bleak. “And it grows and it sings and its message is spread until someone like me finds it and hacks it down and poisons its roots. It retreats back from whence it came until it’s able to creep sunward once more.” He raised himself to his full, if diminutive height. “You have not found the malevolent verdure, Mr. Mulder, you’ve merely looked into the crevice from which it came. And then, seen only a fraction of its depth.”

Mulder mulled over what Aeon had said, trying to process. 

“So you’re a hunter? And Avery was your prey?” he asked, as ever, wanting to understand.

“You think it’s that simple?” Aeon said. “Avery is a mischief-maker, nothing more. And every time he crosses into this realm to collect his little human playthings, he leaves a hole and Hate follows him.”

“So you’re trying to save the human realm from this…this hate that’s coming into it.”

“I don’t give a damn about the human realm. You have it all backwards. He’s not bringing the pestilence here into this realm. It originated here. It’s following him home.”

Mulder reached out and put his hand on Scully’s shoulder.

“So why did you bring Daly back?” 

“Daly had found a way back on his own. He paid for his passage. With sacrifice and coin. As I told your lover, I came to make sure no one took his place.”

Mulder began to put the pieces together. 

“But why did he die?” Scully asked. The only question that still remained. “What killed him?”

“You heard what Ælfred said. Daly’s Luck had run out,” Aeon said levelly. 

Was it another riddle? Scully thought no. Daly had danced with the devil. Beside her, Mulder scraped his shoe over the tile floor, shifting on his feet. 

“Aeon,” she said, a little apprehensive. “You said Avery didn’t know our true names. But he said our names in the hollow. If those weren’t…what are they?”

Aeon, for the first time crooking his face into something like a smile, blinked slowly at her.

“You really don’t know?”

At the door when she left that morning, her mother had hugged her tightly and pressed a cookie tin full of cupcakes into her hands. She tucked a lock of Scully’s hair behind her ear with a watery smile. “Does he call you Dana now?” she’d asked softly. Scully had smiled and shook her head, rueful. 

Aeon’s face now mirrored that look. 

Scully reached out and took Mulder’s hand once more, turning to see if he understood, too. With a shy smile, he squeezed. 

When they turned back to Aeon, he was gone. 

***

They walked to the parking lot in silence, arms brushing against each other. Beside her, Mulder gave a small shudder. His teeth chattered. 

“Jesus,” he said. “It’s not even that cold.”

Scully stopped mid-stride and grabbed his elbow, pulling him up short. 

“You’re shocky,” she said, her brow knitted in concern.

“Yes,” he agreed, the word said through his overbite. 

Scully stepped up to him, thunked the weight of her forehead against the tight beat of his heart. To her relief, it thumped a steady, slow rhythm. She wrapped her arms around him loosely, mindful of his ribs, letting her heat leech through her layers of clothes and into his. The scent of magnolia was petering out and she breathed in deeply through her nose, the scent of him pleasantly pricking her sinuses.

They swayed together for more than a minute and the breeze picked up, a chill knocking between the setting sun and the moon which hung low and full above the treeline. The anticipation of separation hung there too, too close for comfort; they had driven separate cars. 

“How are your ribs?” she finally asked, pulling back to look up at him. 

“Tender,” he said. “But I don’t want to let go.”

A car drove down the street parallel to the building, flipping on its headlights in the burgeoning dusk. 

“Mulder, what just happened?” Scully asked. 

He could still feel the kinking, tight pressure of vines around his throat. 

“Scully, if you Antarctica this, I swear to God…”

Scully huffed a small laugh. “What do you have in your pocket? When Avery tried to grab you—”

Mulder let go of her long enough to snake his hand between several layers of clothes. From his pocket he produced a light yellow plastic likeness of Homer Simpson, head tilted back in sybaritic longing. In Matt Groening script under his face, it read simply “Donuts.” A kitchen magnet. Like hers.

Scully’s face registered a surprised, if distasteful moue. “All that was standing between you and everlasting supernatural purgatory was…Homer Simpson drooling over donuts?”

“I was worried. In a rush,” he said, and the side of his face lifted in a half-grin. “We can’t all carry ‘Invasion of Rarities,’” he quipped. 

“Does it glow in the dark?”

“I think it does, yeah,” his voice cracked, his color starting to return to normal. “I’m not sure where I got it. I think it was a White Elephant gift from the Gunmen. I grabbed the first thing to hand.”

The space in between them was filling up with cool air and the night insects were finding their voices. Scully’s face fell a little, her grip around his middle less sure. 

“Mulder,” she started. “About what Avery said…I don’t put our search for the truth above our—above what you and I—I’m not worried that…” She pressed her lips together, looked up at the moon and inhaled deeply. “He thought he knew me, but he didn’t.”

Mulder let her sweat for a moment, tilted his head back to look at her with sleepy eyes. 

“There are a lot of places I want to…”—he tried to think of less crass phraseology than Ælfred’s ‘fuck’—“…be with you. But in the streets, in the open, isn’t necessarily one of them,” he finished. “Though I’m not one to shame most sexual predilections and I promise to keep an open mind.”

The solidarity that connected them—that saw them through midnight stakeouts and uncomfortable interviews and sweeping flashlights into dark rooms with sidearms at temple index—tightened, knitting them closer together.

Mulder leaned down to kiss her, in front of God and everybody, in the otherwise empty parking lot of the Adrian County morgue. 

“Come on,” he said, straightening, licking the taste of her from his lips. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Scully, feeling the itch of having stepped through a wrinkle in time, humored him and let him take her elbow. They sauntered the rest of the way to her car, each thinking of what they’d do when they got back to DC—sharing an order of lo mein at his coffee table, his hot skin against hers on cool, rumpled sheets, passing sheaves of the Post back and forth in the light of the late morning sun. They would spend the remainder of the weekend in each other’s arms, and rise Monday morning to face auditors, coworkers, knowledge of other realms only the two of them perceived.

“See you at home?” he asked, reaching for her door handle. 

“See you at home.” In the open doorway of her car, Scully lifted herself up onto the tips of her toes and kissed him one more time. 

[cxtori]

Hi :3

Can u please do a jealous scenario with Kumatani? (^o^)

Thank u <3

I love your writing <3

Mitsuo Kumatani ✭ Not Jealous

wc: 1.5k

genre: fluff, jealousy, establish relationship

warnings: n/a, most definitely a little ooc Kuma here lmao

tori's note: I'm not gonna lie to you anon, I really struggled writing this. I just don't really see Kuma as the jealous type, so I didn't know what kind of situation to write lol. I hope he's not too OOC? I'm sorry babes, I did my best *cries* also, also SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG LOOOOL

Kumatani always considered himself a typically calm and collected man. Someone who didn’t let things get under his skin easily. It wasn’t often that his emotions got the better of him, but when they did, it was usually because something (or someone) had pushed his buttons until they shattered.

The emotion he usually felt in such instances was annoyance, sometimes frustration and anger. But what he was feeling right now was a new one, and it was intense. 

“Wow, these trees look great, Y/n!” Eddy exclaims. Kumatani watches as the assistant director stands beside you, patting you on the shoulder. Kumatani feels his heart wrench when you nervously laugh out a ‘thank you’.

The bear suit he was so “blessed” to wear everyday didn’t have many perks. It was hot and stuffy, oftentimes itchy. It was hard to move in and it impaired his spatial awareness which, for him, was frustrating. 

But, a pro to the suit was it allowed his eyes and face to do whatever they pleased as it wouldn’t be seen by anyone else. He could roll his eyes and give annoyed expressions all he wanted without consequence. 

So, for moments like this, when he’s glaring holes into the back of Eddy’s head, he was thankful for it.

“They’re really not a big deal,” you say, brushing off the man’s compliment. You pick up a fake maple leaf and reattach it to a plastic tree branch, hoping it’ll stay in place this time. “They only took a couple hours, and they’re already falling apart.”

“Come on, give yourself some credit!” Eddy says, shoving his rejected compliment back in your face. “I couldn’t do anything like this, which is exactly why we hired you.” 

“Haha, right,” you say with a forced laugh. “Well I should get these onto the set  before Derekida shouts at me,” you say as you carefully pick up one of your mini maple trees, your hands squeezing the rough, faux bark. But, before you can walk away, Eddy begins to speak again.

“Oh, hey, I was uhh… Well, ummm… ” Eddy stutters and you feel your stomach drop. Oh no. You know that look as well as that nervous quiver in his voice. Before he even continues you already know where this is going. “I was planning on trying out that new restaurant tonight, would you wanna go? O-only if you’re not busy, that is...”

Just as you feared. You and Kumatani have only been dating for a few months, and you both preferred to keep your relationship quiet, so you can’t blame Eddy for not knowing. But seriously? Here? Now? In front of your boyfriend? You admired his courage but hated his timing.

“Oh, Eddy that’s nice but,” you start, trying to find a way to let him down kindly. You turn your head just enough to see Kumatani out of the corner of your eye. You turn back to Eddy, ready to break the news, and possibly his heart. “Umm, thing is-”

“We’re busy tonight,” Kumatani interjects, popping up beside you. 

“Aww, really?” Eddy says, a hint of confusion in his voice.

“Yes, really,” Kumatani says sternly, laying an arm gently over your shoulders, silently saying all that was needed. “Now, leave her alone.” You glance over at your boyfriend, even though you can’t see his face. 

Not many people can tell when Kumatani is getting ticked unless he purposefully shows it. You however, can tell by the slightest change in his tone. And based on the few words he’s just spoken, he’s not just ticked, he’s pissed.

Your eyebrows quirk and you question just why he was so mad. Eddy doesn’t know you’re dating, and it’s not like he’s pushed your boundaries. Kumatani seems to surprise himself with his words, his stoic shell cracking a bit.

“Oh, I see… s-sorry,” Eddy mutters. The director walks away without another word, partly out of respect, but mostly out of fear. He knew better than to make Kumatani mad.

You stand there in silence for a moment, tiny tree in hand and stuffy bear suit over your shoulder. 

“Thank you. But you know you didn’t have to do that. It was just Eddy,” you say with an awkward giggle. Mitsuo removes his arm from you and takes a small step back.

“Sorry. I don’t really know-”

“Y/n! We need those trees!” Derekida’s voice echoes through the studio, cutting Kumatani off and making you jump out of your skin. You groan, turning to pick up another one of the fake plants.

“Be right there!” You shout back, doing your best to hide the annoyance in your voice. Though it's not like Derekida hasn't heard it before. You turn back to your boyfriend, still interested in hearing what he has to say. “Hold that thought, ‘kay? I’ll meet you in your dressing room in a minute.”

Kumatani just nods as he watches you stumble to the filming set with your props. 

It doesn’t take you long to get the trees set up in preparation for Utano and Iketeru’s next performance. The moment you’re satisfied with how everything looks, you sprint to the dressing rooms before Derekida can notice you’re leaving.

You knock on the door before entering, finding Mitsuo standing in the room with his bear suit removed. Well, all but the mask. You stand there in silence for a moment as you stare at him, wondering why he’s bothered to take off everything except for the head.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask curiously. Your boyfriend remains unmoving, his arms cross over his chest.

“What do you mean?” He says casually, like he doesn’t expect you to question his choice of outfit. You roll your eyes with a small laugh before walking up to him and gently placing your hands on the bear head.

“Come on, I can’t take you seriously with that thing on,” you say and he doesn’t resist as you carefully pull the mask up and off of his head. You smile at the sight of his steely grey eyes, much better than the soulless black dots of a fake bear.

“Hi,” you say airily, leaning closer to him.

“Hi,” he says in return, his lips curving in a faint smile. You set his mask down on the table and sit on the edge beside it.

“So, wanna tell me what happened earlier?” You ask. Mitsuo’s eyes flash with a very brief moment of annoyance, and you just barely catch it.

“There’s nothing to tell. He tried to ask you out and I told him off,”

“Yes, but I think there’s a little more to it than that,” you push gently. “You seemed pretty upset.”

He just looks at you, not bothering to give even a small hum in response. But recalling the situation from just a bit ago was getting him irritated again.

He’s being ridiculous, he knows he is. He's not sure what set him off to begin with. People are allowed to compliment you, especially on things you’ve poured your time and effort into. But for some reason, seeing Eddy interact with you like that angered him.

He wasn’t about to tell you that though. That would mean admitting that his emotions got the better of him. And even though it is something that has happened before, he didn't like the feeling of losing control.

You watch him stand in his silence, replaying the situation in your head when it hits you.

“Are you jealous?” You ask bluntly.

 “Jealous?” Mitsuo repeats, caught off guard by your assumption.  “Of course not.” He looks away from you and crosses his arms back over his chest. He’s trying to look unperturbed, but you absentmindedly make the connection to a pouting child. He may have been annoyed, but he certainly wasn’t jealous.

 “Oh, you’re so jealous. This is hilarious.”

“I said I’m not jealous,” he says simply, but from the slight change in his tone of voice, you can tell he’s at least a little jealous, even if he doesn’t know it. You laugh softly and stand from the table, walking over and taking your boyfriend's hands in yours.

You look up at him sincerely, though his eyes avoid yours.

“Mitsuooo,” you coo. The man grunts in annoyance, wanting this conversation to be over so he can leave. He never thought he’d be given the choice to wear his bear suit or talk to you. And he certainly never thought he’d want to choose the former of the two. 

You raise a hand to his cheek, tenderly pulling him to face you, smiling brightly when his eyes finally meet yours.

“It’s okay if you are, I’m just teasing,” you say. You lean up to place a soft kiss to his lips and, while at first he doesn’t kiss back purely out of indignation, he soon melts into you, unable to resist your lips against his. You pull away, a satisfied look on your face.

“Are we good?” You ask, just inches away from his lips. 

“There wasn’t a problem with us to begin with,” Mitsuo states, a smirk, while absent on his face, audible in his tone.

“You know what I mean,” you say with a laugh. “Please don’t give Eddy a hard time. I love you and only you, okay? You don’t have to worry about anyone else.”

“Are you sure?” Mitsuo jokes.

“Shut up!” You say, giving your boyfriend a playful punch on the arm. He smiles as he grips your waist and leans down to kiss you, his warm lips molding perfectly against yours, warmth spreading through your body.

“I love only you too.”

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate. reblogs appreciated

[lovebugism]

Would you/have you done one about steve comforting a reader who is scared of fireworks?

hi, love! thanks for your request! here's another v self-indulgent fic!! — the one where steve calms you down when have a hard time adjusting after the "fire" at starcourt tw for mentions of ptsd (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 1.5k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Steve has the prettiest backyard you’ve ever seen. It’s adorned with a sparkling blue pool amidst a patch of lush green grass. It’s embellished with various holiday decorations that only add to its grandeur — yellow fairy lights, sparkling streamers, and paper decorations in varying shades of red, white, and blue.

His parents always go all out for these kinds of get-togethers, no matter how insignificant the holiday feels in comparison. The adults are gathered in the house now, tired after dealing with teenagers all day, getting wine-drunk in his father’s den.

The teenagers in question are spread out along the yard, most of them out front. You can see the kids through the gate, chasing each other with sparklers. You and Steve sit apart from all that, almost achingly drowsy after spending all day in the sun. 

The boy lies on his back in the hammock and presses you to his chest. His wide palms smooth up and down the length of your back, over your shirt. The fading Hawkins Tigers t-shirt actually belongs to him, and it swallows you whole accordingly.

Everything smells like sunscreen and pool water and his cologne. It entwines with the scent of his father’s whiskey and lingering smoke from the grill. The nostalgic smell of a dewy summer night lulls you to sleep entirely.

Steve tilts his head to his shoulder to watch you. There’s a distant smile playing on his lips he doesn’t even know is there. You look so cozy pressed against him, but he can tell you’re not sleeping. You shift every couple minutes, furrowing your brows like you’re waiting for slumber to come. 

He’s tired, too, but not enough to stop watching you.

“Hey, Stevie!” Robin shouts across the yard.

The boy forces himself to pull his eyes off of you. He turns his chin to his shoulder to look at the sandy brunette girl. Her sneakers are slotted between the holes of the metal fence. It props her a few measly inches off the ground, and she wraps her hand around the top bar of it. 

Steve’s scolded her a thousand times about that. He doesn’t want her to get stuck and break an ankle. But in true Robin Buckley fashion, she refuses to listen.

“What?” he calls back.

She bends at the waist over the fence. “You guys wanna come shoot fireworks with us?”

Your eyes are still closed. You hope she can tell from the distance so she’ll think you’ve fallen asleep. You don’t like fireworks — you never have, really, but especially not after Starcourt. The memory of that night makes your breath quicken and your heart race as your body buzzes with a misplaced adrenaline. 

You’re more scared of Steve saying yes to her plea. It’s one thing to be scared, but being scared without him holding you is exponentially more terrifying.

“I’m good just watching you guys!” Steve shouts in return. 

You feel the words rumble in his chest. A sigh of relief spills from your mouth in a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Robin rolls her eyes at his response, grumbling something under her breath as she hops off the fence.

Steve winces as he watches her go, still terrified her shoes will get caught and her ankle will snap and they’ll have to go to the emergency room.

She makes it down safely, though. The fear still lingers within him, like the smell of smoke you can’t ever get out of your clothes.

“I’ve had enough of fireworks for a lifetime,” Steve mumbles more quietly to you. Still rubbing your back with one hand, he takes the other from behind his hand to smooth over your arm. His warm palm gives you a reassuring squeeze on your forearm. “I don’t how these shitheads are doing it, honestly.”

His laugh rumbles in his chest beneath you.

You try your best to muster a smile even though he can’t really see you from this angle. You’re just trying to convince yourself you’re not as scared as you really are.

“Me neither…”

Your eyes follow Dustin and Lucas with an acute attentiveness. One of them holds a long candle lighter while the other clutches a cylindrical firework. Your bones still ache with exhaustion, but you couldn’t be more wide awake. 

You’re heart whoosh, whoosh, whooshes in your ears at an increasingly rapid pace when the two boys crouch beside the firework.

Their faces glow with the orange flame for a few moments. When they hurry off in the other direction, you tense in preparation for the loud noise you know is coming.

The booming crack from the sparking gunpowder frightens you, anyway.

Your heart lurches in a fleeting panic, your body jerking even though you know you have no reason to be scared. Your sudden jolting scares Steve, too. The loud noise wasn’t as frightening to him as thinking you were about to fall out of the hammock.

He holds you tighter and laughs softly to himself — not at you, exactly, but at his own misplaced alarm. “Shit, babe. You okay?”

You exhale a deep sigh against him. “Yeah. Sorry, I just— I wasn’t expecting it to be so loud.”

You feel stupid for phrasing it like that. Of course, fireworks were loud. That was sort of the whole point, wasn’t it? But you don’t know how else to explain your fear to him. Sudden and thunderous noises just scare you more than they used to, far more than they should for the average person.

Steve doesn’t need an explanation, though. You don’t need a reason to be scared of something, or to tell him what the thing you’re scared of is. He just doesn’t want you to feel scared at all. About anything. In a perfect world, he could protect you from all the wars you wage in your own head.

“Want me to tell ‘em to stop?” he asks with pinched-together brows.

Your answer is immediate. You hold him tighter, as though keeping him from moving, as you shake your head against him. “No. Don’t do that. It’s not their fault. Fireworks just… they remind me of—”

“I know,” Steve coos gently to you, fingers squeezing softly at your arm again.

It’s not like you needed to explain it to him. He was there for all of it, watching with tears in his eyes as a possessed Billy Hargrove dragged you through a burning Starcourt Mall — gaze glassy with gunpowder and smoke and the thought of losing you.

His aversion to fireworks isn’t as rooted in fears as yours is. More than anything, he just hates the smell of them now. Maybe because he was only throwing them that night — at the big, fleshy, melting spider monster who wanted to kill them all.

He wasn’t the one who tasted death that night. Not like you, anyway.

Another fireworks cracks in the air.

The sound blasts and echoes through the whole yard. It sounds like gunshots — loud, repetitive, and merciless.

You weren’t paying enough attention to expect its arrival this time.

Suddenly, you’re back at Starcourt, getting hunted by secret Russian soldiers. The smell of blood and gunpowder stings your nose and makes tears burn the backs of your eyes. You wince and squeeze them shut, holding tighter onto Steve. 

A Renaissance painting of July 4th, 1985 is stained on the back of your eyelids.

The vibrant colors of Starcourt Mall are made of neon signs and bright orange flames. A monster made of flesh towers over you, sparkling with alternate-dimension slime and the vivid fireworks cracking overhead. 

It’s been a year since then. A lifetime. Hardly a second ago.

Your nose smushes into Steve’s shirt as you clutch onto him for dear life.

His free hand — the one not already splayed against your back — leaves your forearm and rises to your face. His palm is wide and warm as it engulfs your ear. He presses you into him, not too intensely, but enough to drown out the nightlife of Hawkins in July.

The scent of him covers you like a blanket. He smells like chlorine and body wash and chocolate ice cream — soft and warm like a summer night. Like heaven. Like home.

He brings you back to life without trying.

You finally turn to look up at the boy after spending several minutes avoiding his gaze. Your cheek rubs against the soft cotton of his shirt as you do so. Your tired eyes meet his smiling face.

“Better?” he asks with a crooked, pink grin.

You can’t really hear him, not with both your ears muffled. But you can read the word as it spills from his pink mouth and feel it rumble in his chest.

A gentle smile quirks the corners of your lips. You nod.

He holds you like that the rest of the night. He props his golden forearm against his chest and keeps his palm pressed intently against your ear. It doesn’t totally cancel out the cracking fireworks, but it helps to keep them at bay.

Your eyes dance along the velvet starry sky as fireworks burst in rainbow colors against it. They don’t remind you of death and dying anymore.

You feel held. Like you can finally move on from it all.

As long as you’ve got Steve Harrington holding you, at least.

[xyla-xoxo]

I think about her, my older, taller, domineering best-friend taking me and my boyfriend to club.

I think about her really noticing just how estrogen has reshaped my body, growing my ass so it shakes and wiggles as I dance.

I think about her staring for 3 weeks in a row slowly getting hungrier.

I think about us getting drunk and taking selfies together outside, in one I make a silly face my tongue out, my eyes rolled up. She has me send this one to her.

I think about her at home by herself, printing this selfie out and taping it to the wall. My face and cleavage overpowering the frame.

I think about her taking off her pants leaning one arm against the wall and angrily stroking her gock to the picture telling this picture of me to take her nut like a good brain dead slut, before cumming ropes all over it.

I think about her doing this over and over, again and again, every day. Printing out a clean pic, beating herself off to my face while snarling lewd things at me, all before painting my picture. She starts taking pics of the result. Then she films the whole process. Shes not watching porn or seeing other girls anymore, my picture has become her favorite cum target.

Finnaly another trip to the club, she breaks and decides my fate, she wanted me there and then but decided one more week properly managed would burn out any sense of decency left in her.

For 7 days she doesnt cum, but edges her self to the photo constantly. Driving herself even crazier, spitting and cursing at my face, her head filled with 1000 crue waysl to take me, but first she needs to wait and put me in my place to let me know just how much trouble I've caused her.

Once more the three of us at the club, she dances with me, it's not long before she's grinding her damp bulge into my ass.

I get soaking wet in response responding to her sheer animalistic aura.

My boyfriend leaves us and gets drinks.

She gets handsy and yanks me outside. We're all alone now. I had to go with her willing or unwilling, she was going to have me, out here or the dance floor.

She smacks my ass several times making me Yelp in pleasure and fear, then a hard slap to my face before pushing me to my knees, her skirt is being pushed up by her furious, rock hard gock. She hikes up her skirt all the way showing me how it throbs and pulses, precum practically drizzling out like an open tap.

I stare at it, mouth open in a little O. I reach for it to play with her. She smacks my face again and restrains herself from using my mouth, shes waited this long she can wait a little longer.

She pulls out her phone.

She shows me the video.

She shows me the pics.

I'm so excited.

She gockslaps me, splattering me in precum, my face is hot it stings so much, she tells me that it's my fault, that I've blue balled her and she doesnt get blue balled by empty headed gock holes like me.

She starts savagely stroking herself like a mad girl and she is mad, she seriously has murder in her eyes, she growls and spits and snarls at me about how my tits and ass bounce around, teasing her, but worst of all is my big brown eyed, chubby cheeked dumb slut face that's shes watched get prettier and prettier, just begging her to fuck it.

But does she? No. Instead shes has to watch it smile at her and yap at her and kiss it's stupid fucking boyfriend when it should be her personal cumdump.

Well that was changing now.

It doesnt take her long she pants and roars like a predator as she finnaly blows her load all over me. She looks down and takes a pic of me, but it isnt enough for her, it isnt enough for me either.

She sends me back to my boyfriend with my face covered, my eyes glazed in lust. She tells me I'm not to clean it off, not to eat it , her nut is part of my outfit tonight and soon it will be all I'm wearing, fortunately she has plenty to cover me with.

I grab my boyfriend yanking his face to mine kissing him goodbye, telling tell him I'm staying the night with her, but the truth is he'll be lucky if she sends me back at all.

She might need me to stay, really, she cant keep wasting all that printer ink.

More than likely he'll be the one with blue balls soon and its sounding like I wont be allowed to provide him any relief.

Which is kind of fine, when you think about it. It makes sense, she came on me and now she owns me, it feels like that's how things should work.

[iznsfw]

hi, can u write a wonyoung x male reader fluff?

Even Princesses Cry Sometimes

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 12 - Jang Wonyoung

IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male/Female Reader Fluff

2,123 words

Categories | short, slightly angsty, idol!Wonyoung, caring!reader, tears and cuddles

Very short and late, but who cares?

Maybe I'll catch up with Yujin and Yuri some of these days.

It’s always another day, another front she’s putting up. Another disguise. Of course, only you know about the partial artificiality of it all. When she tries to put on a brave face throughout her schedules, or tells a particularly rude fan to take care of themself despite their scathing words, part of your heart just aches with the knowledge. Like you, she’s still so young - no eighteen-year-old has to bear with the pressure of the world burdening their shoulders like rocks. 

No eighteen-year-old has gone through as much as Jang Wonyoung has. You want to make it easier for her, but she almost never lets you. She’s built such a great wall around herself that even you, her partner, can’t break through. Even if you summoned all the might into your fists and beat around its bricks, it would take long before you can even make a hole.

For the wall to be broken, the one who built it must reach out.

Gaze at the television and wonder when that will happen. It’s rarer than anything. But there she stands, gorgeous as always. Her dark hair flows in the night, and the blue dress that drapes around her form makes her look like a princess. With the colors and her makeup, she can easily pass as a Korean Cinderella. No, she can’t be Cinderella - Wonyoung never needs someone to save her. She was never a damsel in distress, which is why she’s expressed her dislike for the tale so many times:

(“It’s so… fucking odd, jagi-ya,” laughed Wonyoung, over a pack of potato salted-egg chips, while she lounged with you on the sofa. The TV was on, the classical Cinderella was playing, and Wonyoung was… well, unimpressed. She ran through her locks of messy curled hair and added, “I understand the situation. I really do—”

“You don’t,” you interrupted truthfully, but not without a smile. Oh, never without a smile; Wonyoung is your happy pill, no matter what she says.

Wonyoung laughed loudly, pushing you in the chest hard. Laughter overtook her tiny frame. “Fine, fine!” she admitted. “I don’t, but see here… this is fucking ridiculous. It’s just- ugh!” She rolled her eyes and gave you an exasperated look. “But you get me, don’t you? You get what I mean?”

There was a hint of fear in those beautiful eyes of hers. Something told you that the question was born not out of frustration, but was instead from caution nested in the swindle of circumstance the universe had blown her to. Was Wonyoung afraid she would offend you? Had the headlines and tabloid articles created a phobia she’d never dare tell anyone - not even you?

But then your lips found her forehead creased with lines of worry, and you felt them relax beneath the touch of your love. Wonyoung settled into your arms as if she were your little songbird, and you were the only nest she found that would not break.

 “I do, hon,” you told her. “I do.”)

Fine, you’d settle for her being no one because not one princess out there can match Wonyoung in everything she does. She’s the perfect girl, the perfect idol. She’s pretty, talented, and charismatic enough to attract all of her success by herself. No girl her age is at the point of success she has at her fingertips. But it’s something that can easily be snatched from her with just the wrong move. Everyday is a challenge for her; too much smiling equals to her being too flirtatious, but little smiling and winks mean that she’s too reserved and self-centered to take notice of the people around her. In everything she does, begrudged people find a way to twist it around into a bad light. 

You admire how resilient she is. Much to the shock of her admirers and fanatics, it isn’t exactly ideal to live a life being so closely watched. Not even with all the wealth she possesses. The way she has learned to cope with it independently teaches you more life lessons than any seminar could. But you want to remind her sometimes that she doesn’t have to be strong all the time with you. You can take her falls. You have each other, don’t you? Isn’t that what partners are for?

The fall of the princess is televised, put out there for everyone to pick apart and make fun of. Worst of all, you aren't able to catch her.

-

Wonyoung is happy to find out that her group, the monster rookie idol band IVE, won a lot of medals and marked new milestones. But now tears slip down her beautiful face. The camera focuses on her. It loves her, craves her - every bit of Jang Wonyoung is too pretty to not be captured and immortalized; of course it does. She sees it and tries to stop, but the fat drops of grief - grief for what could have been, what should have been; grief for her young self who wasn’t and isn’t able to enjoy the last few years of her childhood - continue to pour down like rain. 

As the colorful confetti falls from the roof of the grand stadium, she falls, too, and the members start to take notice. Yujin leans over to ask if she needs a tissue, and Jiwon rubs a comforting hand on her back. But none quench the need for a hug she has buried deep inside her heart. She needs someone beyond her friends slash co-workers. She needs you.

Wonyoung looks around. There are only crowds and crowds of noisy fans and cameras flashing. But her observant eyes scrutinize every corner in the large room for any sign of you. There’s still hope in her heart that you’ll come dashing into the show to help her. Sort of like a knight in shining armor in a children’s fairy tale. 

Jagi-ya? Where are you? I need you right now, please. You can’t leave me here.

Then she remembers: her life may be glamorous, but it isn’t a fairytale. She’s only one girl, in a massive crowd of people she doesn’t know, trying to make it through the night. Her thoughts are making it more than difficult though. They consist of the pain she went through to get here: those dark nights where she practiced till her legs felt like they were going to snap, the harsh scolding she received from teachers, days when her schedules were so packed that she didn’t even have the time to eat or even breathe…

Wonyoung’s makeup is stained with her own sadness. She’s gorgeous - that’s an indisputable fact, she’s talented, she’s young and successful. But what are the hardships she had to bear and all its blooming fruits worth if she doesn’t have you?

She’s torn up from the inside. She needs you now, more than anything, yet you are nowhere to be found. But it isn’t your fault. She’s been too reserved and private after all, dealing with her matters and affairs by herself. It’s only natural that you would think that she can handle her tears. Compared to everything she has to handle, tears are merely a little thing. You’re already used to the idea of her being self-reliant, so why would you show up now?

Her phone buzzes all of a sudden. One click at the side of the costly phone case, she’s able to see your messages.

You | 11:47 PM | Hey, princess?

You want to take the night off a little early? Watch some clueless? :) 

-

And she thought you’d never come. 

Wonyoung crashes between your rounded arms. This time, you don’t worry about messing up her hair, which must have taken hours to curl. You don’t hold yourself back from taking her in your arms, although the stylists warned her not to ruin the pretty blue dress. No, you bury your face into her neck, kissing it over and over. You’re happy to see her; only meeting her less these past few weeks has made you lonelier than you’d like to admit. And you know that she’s happy too; her tearful, beautiful eyes sparkle when she gazes up at you. But you also know that, although she would rather die than admit it, she’s been missing the comfort of someone caring for her.

She’s a princess, and you’re her knight in shining armor. Wonyoung rarely needs you, much less a knight to come save her. But she appreciates your love. She’ll hide it behind blushes and playful circles of her eyes, but she loves you. It comforts her that you do, too.

People are staring. The cameras start flashing. The same fear gathers up in Wonyoung’s heart again, but this time, she shoves it aside. She’s not going to hide her love for you anymore. She won’t let anyone get in her way.

The wall has finally broken and deteriorated. 

Wonyoung seizes your face in between her slim hands, and kisses you deeply. It surprises you; her full lips are extremely soft, brushing over your pink ones and locking them with hers. Her eyes close, but your eyelids remain parted. This time, you’re the one scared. You aren’t scared of your own reputation, but for Wonyoung. What will the media do when they find out she has a partner already? Oh, how they’d villainize her! How they’d paint her into a promiscuous, indifferent queen bee!

“W-Wonyoung,” you stammer, when she finally stops. “The, the media—”

“Darling, please. I don’t care anymore. I just want you.”

Her words feed into a phone-installed recorder nearby. The woman holding it looks horrified, but Wonyoung simply gives her a coy wink. You smile; that’s the Jang Wonyoung you know.

You smile sincerely. Brush the tears from her face with your thumb, and realize just how much you love Wonyoung. It’s like destiny tied your threads together from the beginning. You were just a fan of her back in Produce 48 because you love how brave she was to put herself out there, despite being your age only. Hell, you couldn’t do that. When she met you at  a fanmeeting and discreetly passed you her number, you were on top of the world. It was straight out of a fanfiction.

But all fanfictions end. That can’t be said about you and her. You’re best friends, lovers, and frenemies all at once. Your relationship is built around deep friendship, and that’s why you’re certain that the love you share with Wonyoung will go on forever. 

“That’s my girl,” you whisper, kissing her forehead. It’s only you and her in this stadium. All the others are faceless ghosts, nothing to worry about. “Movie night?”

Wonyoung smiles giddily. “You bet!”

-

For the first time in years, Wonyoung completely cuddles up in your lap. Thank your parents for having tall genes; if you were any shorter than Wonyoung, you would be the one seated in her lap. It would be the other way around. 

You still keep CDs, so you’re able to watch Clueless with her on the television. She’s raptly watching the iconic chick flick, mimicking the main character with “As if!”s and laughing afterwards. But you’re more interested in her rather than the film itself. Wonyoung is the prettiest when she’s happy. The companies love her trendy poses when she shoots magazine covers or photos, but her most charming self is this:

Half-moon eyes, mouth stretched into a giggly grin, and her hand becoming the resting place of her cheek as she laughs over and over at the comedic timings of the movie. Her brown hair in its uncurled natural state resting at her shoulders, which are not trapped in one of the stage outfits anymore, but rather a big, gray sweatshirt that was once yours. You want it back, but she looks better in it than you do, so you speak nothing about it.

Wonyoung falls asleep just when Clueless is about to reach its conclusive end. With strong, trained arms, you carry her over to your shared bed and tuck her to bed. She stirs a little, but she doesn’t open her eyes. She only smiles, knowing you have her back now, and beckons you under the sheets.

Slide under the comforter and wrap a protective arm around her. Moments like these make you happily remember that Jang Wonyoung isn’t merely just an idol, but your girlfriend. Your little spoon. Your baby rabbit. At the same time, you match all her curved puzzle pieces, and act the role of being her partner, big spoon, and a caring person who won’t let any hunter find her. 

You’re made for each other. And as you snuggle closer to Wonyoung, your puzzle pieces connect. You promise, silently, to never let go.

[dsireland86]

There is Beauty in the Pain Chapter 5 Pt.3 18+ below the cut

TAG LIST: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @thatamazingvampirestory

Noah: The darkness. It had a tendency to be a friend when needed, but most of the time it was a threat to the disheveled mind. It could swallow up the strongest person and bend them to its will in a heartbeat. I felt that the darkness was following Sophie and what it was dragging her through was only a shadow of what was to come. The moment she unlocked her apartment and opened the door, I knew something was wrong. I could sense it. Whatever we were about to find was going to do more harm than good, I was certain Sophie wasn’t prepared for it.

“Wait,” I said, bracing my arm against her chest. “What?” I heard the panic in her voice. “Turn the light on before you walk, please,” I asked, looking down at her. “Okay,” she nodded, worry written all over her face. 

I wasn’t trying to scare her; just protect her. Bright light filled the room instantly revealing the nasty hidden secret I knew was lurking behind the darkness. The excessive damage was everywhere. Sophie’s entire apartment was trashed. Broken furniture, holes in the wall, personal items strewn all over the floor; it was a mess. The sight made me nauseous. It was a clear message from Perry, one of manipulation and control. He did to fuck with her head, knowing it was going to hurt her. In fact I was positive  he was counting on it. 

I looked over at Sophie and saw her crying. The silent tears that rolled down her cheeks and dripped from her chin onto the carpet below felt like sharp pins to my heart, piercing and pricking every inch of it. The sight of her hurting was slowly breaking me. I was trying to keep my feelings out of it, but with the amount of anger coursing through my veins, it was hard to. I clenched my fists, digging my nails into the skin of my palms to suppress the emotions. Sophie needed me clear headed 

I took a few deep breaths, unclenching my fists, and placed them on Sophie’s shoulders instead. She was trembling, engulfed by the feelings of fear and confusion, no doubt. Her quiet whimpers soon turned into loud sobs as she dropped her face into her hands. I wrapped my arms around her in hopes to give her some kind of comfort and sighed when she threw her arms around me, clinging to me desperately. Her small hands gripped the sides of my shirt, squeezing and pulling me against her like she was trying to escape into me somehow. She didn’t want to be here anymore, and I instantly regretted bringing her.

“Hey, look at me,” I wiped her eyes with my thumbs, drying the tears that didn't need to be there the moment she raised her head. “You’re okay, just breathe, Sophie, just breathe,” I encouraged her. “Noah,” she choked on a sob, “I don’t understand this,” she cried, burying her face in my chest again.  “I don’t either,” confessing as I laid my cheek against the top of her head. I couldn’t wrap my head around any of it. I thought I was the only one who met someone that was capable of being so vile, so disgusting, so fucked up. 

With the many unsettled emotions resting in the pit of my stomach, I was afraid Sophie could sense the tension in me. The only thing she deserved feeling right now was safety and I needed to be the one that made her feel it. I needed her to know I wasn’t going anywhere, that I wasn’t going to leave her. 

The feeling of our bodies against one another helped ease the tension in the midst of the chaos and the longer we held each other, the easier it was for the both of us to calm down. It was kind of crazy to think how quickly she was becoming my peace and I was her becoming her warmth and together we were creating a world around us that only we knew; a world that was our secret place, with understanding and respect. 

It was a a place where we were free to be who we were on the inside no matter how fucked up it was.   After some time, Sophie’s tears stopped and she released the grip she had on me, freeing our bodies.   The sudden loss of feeling her in my arms didn’t seem right to me. It felt strange and I didn’t like it.

“Noah, are you okay?” she asked, puzzled.  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a fake smile.

But the skepticism in her eyes told me that she didn’t believe me. Running her hands over her head and down the side of her face, as if it would help her think better, showed how stressed out she was.

“Hey, I know this looks bad,” I said, draping my arm around her shoulder. She moved closer, nestling herself perfectly in the crook of my arm, and that familiar warmth returned, making my heart feel at peace again. She glanced up at me with a small smile.

I caressed her cheek with my thumb, running it over her jawline, and I suddenly ached to feel her lips again. I saw the worry and fear, the tiredness and exhaustion in her eyes that told me she needed all the reassurance I could give her that this mess was going to work out; that there was a silver lining.

“This is fixable, you know that right? I know it’s your stuff, but we can replace most of it.” Sophie nodded, taking a quick deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“I just don’t get it, Noah. I gave Perry everything. Every single part of me. I loved him, and I was stupid enough to believe him when he said he loved me, too. So, how could he do this to me?” Her voice choked up as the tears threatened to fall again. 

“Sophie, I know you think Perry loved you, but he didn't. You were just his backup plan. He used you and how he treated you should tell you how he really felt about you. You deserve better. You deserve to be more than just somebody's backup plan.”

“Noah, I struggle with believing what I deserve when all of my life, I've never had anyone to tell me. My parents are dead and I'm an only child. Perry was the first person, other than Alex, to make me feel like I mattered, like I wasn’t invisible anymore. Even if it wasn't the ideal situation, at least the attention I got was something.” 

“Are you serious? Sophie, you realize that what Perry has done to you is classified as abuse right? He’s a fucking abuser. He abuses you in every sense of the word! He is a psychopath who loves to watch you hurt and could care less about the pain and torture he puts you through. Sophie, what you're saying is that even though he does these horrible things to you, at least he's giving you attention. Is that what you really believe? Is that all the value you have for yourself?”

“I don't know what I believe anymore, Noah! I don't know who I am or why I'm even here anymore, "she yelled at me, throwing her hands up. “I don’t understand one fucking bit why any of this shit happened to me. What did I do to deserve any of this? What did I do to God to make him hate me so much that this is what my life has become? I have no one; nothing. I’m so alone, Noah and it’s killing me.”

Sophie threw her hands to her face, sobbing. She was breaking down just the way I was afraid she would. I wanted to comfort her, but space was important. She needed a moment to process how she was feeling.

“If I believe what you just asked me, Noah, then what does that make me? Weak? Stupid? A fucking masochist?” She sniffled, wiping her nose with the end of her shirt. I shook my head.

“It makes you none of those things, only human. And you're not expected to be more or feel more than human,” I assured her, reaching my hand out to her. She looked at me, eyes wet and puffy and her expression twisted in confusion. But she took my hand, letting me lead her back into my arms where I held her tightly close, cradling the back of her head.

Sophie stayed curled up in my arms even after her breathing slowed and her body relaxed. I didn’t know what else to say to her to make her understand that what had happened to her wasn’t her fault. 

“I feel like everything is falling apart faster than I can pick up all the pieces, Noah. I feel like Perry is never going to regret all the damage and pain he’s caused.” “He won’t. They never do.” Sophie pulled back, looking up at me. “Sounds like you speak from experience,” she pointed out.

“I do. I’ve been hurt, too, Sophie. I understand what you’re going through more than you know. Perry used you. For his own fucked up pleasure, he destroyed you, broke you, and left you with such a massive hole in your heart, you think it’s impossible for anyone to fill it. I see it, every time I look at you. I see the panic, the anxiety. I see how you fight with the demons in your head. I see you, and I understand, because that’s how I feel, too and it’s a really hard struggle that no one who doesn’t go through it understands. There's this massive hole in me, Sophie, that’s all consuming but never filling, and it’s all because of a girl who I believed loved me more than her own life, but only found out she loved herself more.” 

I felt that magnetic pull between us again. I lowered my face, unable to stop myself from kissing Sophie, breathing in deeply the moment our lips touched. She didn’t flinch or pull away from me, but instead slid her arms around my torso the moment she shifted so she could kiss me better. All of my senses were on fire, coming alive as our bodies melted into each other.

“I'm sorry,” apologizing when we parted. Sophie didn’t give me a chance to say anything else before bringing her lips to mine again, wrapping her arms around my neck. Her hand ran up the back of my neck and into my hair, clenching a handful gently in her hands. The gesture pulled a low groan from deep inside my chest, making the resistance against her impossible.

We parted, but didn't let go of each other. Sophie laid her head on my chest and I covered her, like a blanket, with my arms, pressing her head against me. I kissed the top of her head, closing my eyes for a moment.

“Sometimes, when my heart gets too heavy with pain, I think I’m not capable of love.”  “Is that what you really believe, or is that just what you tell yourself because you’re afraid?” “Afraid of what?” “Afraid to come to terms with the fact that your heart has lied to you.” “Probably.” “I think you’re afraid you might push the wrong person away, because that person might actually want to be with you. I think you’re afraid to open up and accept love because you believe you’re not worthy of love.”

Sophie lifted her head, her sweet face staring up at me. Softly, I caressed her cheek, trailing my thumb over her lips.

“You've been told all your life that love is supposed to hurt, but it’s not. Love is never meant to hurt. It’s supposed to heal, to be a haven from misery, to make living worthwhile.” 

My eyes searched hers looking for any sign that my words might have helped her see a little clearer.  “I don't want to hurt you, Sophie.” “I don’t want to hurt you either, Noah.” I gave her a half smile which she returned. “Then tell me the truth. Tell me that you felt the same thing I did the other night at the show.”  I slid my hand behind her head and through her hair, gripping it lightly.

“That magnetic pull we both felt affected us in ways that don’t make any logical sense, but for some reason,” I told her, taking her face and holding her cheeks in my hands, pulling back to look her in the eyes, “I can’t stop.

In a span of just a few days, Sophie, you’ve gone from being a complete stranger to someone I can’t stop thinking about. When I realize I’m thinking about you, I wonder how long you’ve been on my mind. Then it occurs to me: since I’ve met you. I haven't stopped thinking about you.” 

My heart was pounding like a hammer against my chest. Sophie continued to stare at me, eyes wide and brows drawn together. 

“You’re right, Noah,” she confessed, dropping her gaze to the floor. “I am afraid. I know we both felt the same thing that night. I know there's something happening between us that neither one of us can explain.”

She placed her hand gently on my arm, making me shiver. Her touch on my skin was like ice to fire; piercing yet invigorating. I sucked in a breath, holding it tightly when she ran that same hand up my chest, leaving it to rest right below my throat. The soft touch of her fingertips grazed over my Adam's apple, making me shiver. I swallowed hard, peering down at her. Taking a slow, deep breath, Sophie laid her forehead against my chest.

“You want the truth?” “Yeah, I want the truth; always. I can handle it.” She raised head, eyes darting between mine.

“Nobody has ever cared before, Noah. I’ve never had anyone tell me that I was important. So, why should I believe my life, my existence would matter to you? To someone I barely know, who has the ability to have anything and anyone he wants? A girl like me doesn’t deserve what a guy like you has to give. It’s that simple.” 

Sophie patted my chest and backed away, leaving me once again, feeling empty and cold. There was some truth to her words; words that I tried not to feel hurt by. She still wasn’t seeing how much I cared for her, how much she really did matter to not just me, but to Nick, Jolly, Folio, and even Matt now, too. Her presence in the last week had brought something to all of our lives that none of us knew we needed. Sophie mattered to so many of us now, but mostly to me.

“Alright, fair enough. I see your point. But now I need you to see mine, okay?”

“Okay, I’m listening.” A small smile graced her lips, making me lick my own and run my hand through my hair out of nervous habit.

“Have you ever just looked at somebody and it’s like your soul aches to touch them?”

Sophie narrowed her eyes, grinning slightly. “Yes, I have,” she answered quickly. I smiled and released a chuckle while rubbing the back of my neck.

“Okay, good, because that’s what it feels like every time I look at you. I don't know why. I can't explain it and I know how fucking crazy it sounds.”

I was worried that I had thrown my feelings out too fast and was expecting her to deal with them. I was worried she was going to run. She barely had her head above water at the moment, and here I was adding more pressure to her plate. 

At least that's how it felt. But she didn't run. We stared at each other and then I reached for her, taking her by the waist and tugging her closer to me. 

“It wasn't that simple for me, that’s what I’m trying to say. I couldn’t get you out of my head. Your eyes, your lips, your freaking gorgeous ass smile; none of it would leave me in peace. I was willing to do anything to see you again.”

“Really?” “Really.”

My breath was shaky because of how eager I was to kiss her. I wanted to devour those pretty rose colored lips and taste their sweetness again. Sophie stared at mine, sliding her tongue between her own, and drawing her bottom one in between her teeth, proving to me the same thoughts were running wildly through her mind. The throbbing feeling of my pulse went straight to cock, making me partially hard and I hated how much just the thought of kissing her turned me on. 

“But then you showed up at the bar, and it changed everything.”

I sucked in a breath the moment I felt Sophie’s arms slither around my waist and grip my shirt again, tugging to keep me in the middle of her arms. The tension between us returned as did the hunger. It was undeniable. Caressing her cheeks as I cupped her face, her silent tears fell onto my thumbs. I leaned in and slowly kissed her, the tug of my shirt as she kissed me back, pulling me closer to her reassured me that she wanted this, too.

“You're important, Sophie. You matter to me. You made it out of hell and somehow found your way to me.,” I muttered against her lips. “Your safety means everything to me now.” “Noah,” Sophie whispered, bringing her hands to rest on my forearms.  “I’m sorry,” I whispered back, tracing her bottom lip with my thumbs. “I'm sorry for being so honest, but I'm not sorry for how I feel.”  Her eyes searched mine for something she was desperate to find. 

“I'm not asking you to be sorry,” she admitted, reaching for the back of my head and pulling me down into her kiss. My fingers gripped her hips, kneading the soft skin as her hands wrapped around my biceps. 

I tasted the inside of her mouth fully, releasing a subtle grunt the moment she pressed her core against my hardening cock. I was starving for her and willing to take whatever she was willing to give me.

She pulled away, eyes wide with intense heat and breathless from our kiss. She was letting her guard down, that much was clear, but I could sense the hesitation to truly  trust me that I wouldn't hurt her the way Perry had. I saw the fear to fall, but the faith to jump anyway.

“So, how did you and Perry meet anyway,” I asked Sophie, helping her pick up some books that were scattered over the floor. “He was a client at the law firm I used to work for. I was his lawyer's secretary. One night he asked me out and that was all it took.” Sophie laid the stack of books on the end table, lost in a distant memory. 

“I gave him my virginity that night. He convinced me enough that he was the only man good enough for me, and I believed him.” She looked over at me and laughed. “Shallow, I know.” “You weren’t. You trusted him. You had no reason not to at the time.” “Yeah I guess so.”  She picked up a few pillows and tossed them on the couch. “Did he ever hurt you while having sex?” Sophie was hesitant to answer.

“Not at first. But later on, yeah he did. I had bruises and bite marks on my legs and thighs often, and hand prints around my neck sometimes. I claimed it was because he loved me too much, but it didn’t feel like love. Love shouldn’t have made me painfully cry.”

I grimaced at her words. “Did he ever find out that you slept with other guys?” Sophie looked at me in the most confusing way. “What do you mean, other guys?” “There were other guys after him, right?” I asked, hesitantly. Sophie slowly shook her head. “Perry is the only guy I’ve ever been with, Noah.” “What?” “I was too scared to go and be with someone else, afraid of what would happen if Perry found out. In fact, you’re the first guy I’ve ever talked to in a non-friend way.”

“Fuck, Sophie, no pressure,” I laughed, floored by her confession.  Thankfully she laughed, too. “You should feel honored.” “Oh, believe me, I do,” I smiled at her.

She walked over towards the kitchen, stopping right before her feet hit the tile. Dark red stains, resembling blood, covered the bright white tile and shattered glass glistened in the light of the small window on the kitchen wall.

“What the hell happened here?” Her face was suddenly void of emotion.

"This is where everything started. Perry was refusing to leave even though I begged him over and over to go. I knew how angry he was with me for telling him we were over, and I was starting to get scared. But I didn't think,” her voice fading away while staring at the floor.

That’s when she started describing the events of that night while I followed her into the kitchen. Her description of Perry’s rage and the fear for her life was difficult to listen to. She described his beatings and the assault he made on her and I wondered how in the hell she found the strength to escape. It really was a miracle, I guess. The things he said to her made me cringe as she repeated them. What was worse was I knew Sophie believed most of them, too. Helping her undo those lies in her mind was my first priority once I got her back to the safety of my house. 

"Noah, you're right,” sighing, as she turned to me. “I can't live like this anymore, I don't want to.” I was leaning against the counter, gripping the edges so hard that my knuckles were turning white. "I was terrified he was going to kill me that night and I'm lucky he didn't. I don't want to keep taking those kinds of chances anymore. So where do I start?” She looked to me for the answer as if I had it and I did. I just wasn’t sure if it was the one she was looking for.

“Well, you could always stay with me, us; the guys and me,” I stuttered, making my offer clearer, “you know, until you can find another place to live. We have a fully finished basement with two extra rooms that you’re more than welcome to use.” Sophie brought her hand to her mouth and bit her nails nervously. She was heavily thinking about the idea.

“You can pay me if you want; if it'll make you feel better. You don't have to though.”  “Of course I will! I'm not mooching off you guys like a leech!” I chuckled at her choice of words. “Are you sure the others won't have a problem with it?” I shook my head. “Absolutely not, especially with the way you cook. You'll have them begging at your door for more.”

Sophie’s eyes lit up when she smiled at me. She was so beautiful when she did and the way it made my heart race and my knees weak scared the shit out of me. 

“This environment you're used to living in isn’t safe. You shouldn’t stay. It's all about control and fear and Perry knows this and as long as you allow him to use you, you'll continue giving him control. You have to know when to say enough's enough." “I know. You’re right.” "And in the end, you just end up losing yourself trying to hold on to someone who never cared about losing you in the first place. Knowing when to let go can be a motherfucker. But when you do let go and begin to find yourself again, you’ve got to hold onto it because people are going to tell you who you are or who you should be. You've just gotta fight back and tell them you already know." 

"But what if I don't? Sometimes I feel like I’m meant to wander alone in the darkness for the rest of my life and other times I feel dead inside. I’m scared it’s all I’ll ever be, Noah.” I took her hands, running my thumbs over the backs of them. They were small and warm and fit perfectly in mine; like they were made for me. “Then I’ll sit in the dark with you. I’ll stay; if you want me to. And you won’t have to tell me anything unless you want to. We can just sit together in silence.” Sophie turned her face away from me, staring at the red droplets that stained the tile.

“Give yourself time to wander the darkness, to heal and process what you’ve been through. I promise you, you won't be alone. And you don’t ever have to pretend. Not with me, not ever. That fucker hurt you more than you deserved because you loved him more than he deserved, and you can’t expect yourself to be over it or completely healed of it in just a week. It takes time, okay.” “Okay.”

“The basement is yours if you want it. I just want you to be safe. And happy,” “Thank you, Noah, for everything. I’ll never be able to return the kindness you've shown me.” “I don’t expect you to. I didn’t go into this expecting you to give anything back. I just couldn't help myself. I was drawn to you like a moth to a flame.”

Laying her hands on my chest, Sophie slid them up until her fingertips met the nape of my neck, dancing over the snake and the apple before fidgeting with my silver chain; just like she did that first night I ever held her. I was afraid I’d lost her that night, yet here she was in my arms, safe where I was able to protect her. My lips grazed her forehead, softly brushing over her warm skin as I laid my hands on her hips, giving them a tight squeeze, before slipping them around her waist and resting them on her lower back. Her beautiful eyes were shining despite the shadows. Her lips parted as I cupped her face, my thumb smoothing over her cheekbone. My lips found hers. I kissed her gently, carefully, exploring her mouth with my tongue in a slow sensual kiss. I want to consume her.

“Do you trust me, Sophie?” I asked, my voice a little shaky. “Yes, I do.” “Tell me why you trust me,” I said, running my hands over the soft flesh of her bottom, gently pushing her into me. “Because, when I’m with you, Noah, I feel safe.”

I force her to look at me, exhaling when I see she’s telling the truth. “You are safe, do you hear me?” She nodded quickly, choking back tears. “You. Are. Safe. And whatever happened to you in the past won’t follow you into your future. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” I pressed my forehead to hers as she exhaled a painful sigh. “And if you just tell me where else or how else I need to keep you safe, I’ll do that too, okay?” “Why,” Sophie whimpered, sniffling. “Because I care, Sophie.” “Why?” she asked again. “I just do. I can’t help it.”

Sophie's hands snaked up the back of my head and into my hair, her nails raking across my scalp, earning her a deep moan that crawled out of my chest. I grabbed her needfully and pressed my hands against her bottom, feeling her push her sex against my cock that was already throbbing with hunger for her. “Fuck, Princess,” I growled, walking her back until she hit the counter and my shoe hit the bottom cabinet with a loud thud. 

The slight little moan that left her only encouraged me to keep going. Lifting her up, I planted Sophie on the counter, holding her face in my hands while I deepened the kiss as the taste of her drove me to the brink of insanity. Her hands gathered the sides of my shirt between her fists, pulling it up just enough for her to slip them underneath and around my waist. God, the feeling of her skin against mine in such an intimate place was euphoric. 

“This isn’t real. This shouldn’t be so easy with you, Noah,” she mumbled against my lips, slipping her hands under the waistband of my joggers and tugging me closer to her. “I know, but I can't stop,” I argued, taking her bottom lip between my teeth. Her small whimpers made my skin prickle as my heart raced from the beautiful way she made my cock twitch. The way her mouth molded with mine made it impossible to let go, and I didn’t want her to ever pull back; as if her mouth held all the oxygen that kept me alive. I needed more. I needed to feel her against me.

I pulled Sophie’s legs up and wrapped them around me feeling her cling to me like her life depended on it. I was surprised by how light she was, making it easy for me to carry her over to the kitchen chair. I sat down, helping her position herself until she was sitting comfortably on my lap, facing me. Her sex was pressed against my hard length, making me groan when she leaned up and laid her lips on mine. When she looked down and noticed how we were touching, I felt the tiny grind she made against me, making me curse under my breath. 

“Are you okay?” I brushed the loose pieces of hair away from her face, watching her eyes sink down as she leaned against my chest, picking at her fingers. I was beginning to notice this was a nervous habit of hers. I took her hands, covering them so she could relax. “I just wonder if he even misses me.” Sophie's words caught me off guard. “Where did that thought come from?” voicing my confusion. She shrugged. “I've never had anyone tell me they’ve missed me. I just wonder if Perry does. That's all.” A sharp pain hit my chest. “Probably not.” “Yeah,” she sighed, “you’re probably right.”

“I know it’s only been a few days, but I care about you; alot.” “I care about you a lot too, Noah,” she said softly. “I don’t want you to have to deal with what you’ve had to deal with ever again.” “Is the thing real, whatever this is between us?” Sophie asked skeptically. I took her hands and laid them on the sides of my face. “Do you feel that?” “Yes,” she answered softly. “I’m here and I’m real and I’m not going anywhere. I can keep you safe, shelter you from the rain and the storms.” “I’m tough enough, Noah.” I chuckle. “I know you are.” “I’ve taken care of myself this long.” “You have. You still do and You always will. I’ve just joined in, too. Now we can take care of each other.”

Sophie smiled, her eyes crinkling in their corners. “Are you saying you might fight for me?” I chuckle again. “Baby, at this point, I would burn the whole fucking world for you if it meant it would keep you safe.” This woman had me at her will, to mold or break, in any way she wanted to. “I know you’re scared because of everything you’ve been through,” pushing on her bottom to move her up closer towards me,“but I can’t deny that we make each other feel something. It’s okay if it’s not love; I don’t expect it to be, and it’s okay if we’re both too scared to admit it to each other. But I know you feel what I’m feeling, otherwise,” I grinned, looking down at where we were subconsciously somewhat connected, then trailing my eyes up her body, “we wouldn’t be doing what we’re doing.” Sophie started to slightly grinded on me. Whether intended or not, it felt amazing. She knew I knew what she was doing, and I was loving every second of her teasing. Her lips came down and found mine, engulfing me in a warm, hungry kiss that sent her melting into my chest. Her moan sent chills up my spine, making me crave more, 

Silent tears trickled down her rosy cheeks, and I quickly wiped them away. Running my hand down the side of her face, I wrapped my hand around her neck, bringing her face closer to mine. "The moment I saw you in the crowd with that bright-ass blue hoodie, a part of me walked out of my body and wrapped itself around you. I was really fucking scared. I've never fallen that hard, that fast for some, not even,” but I stopped myself before I went too far. This wasn't the time nor place to bring her up. Sophie brought her hands back to my neck, sliding her fingertips over my tattooed-covered skin and up into my hair where she gently ran her fingers through it again. “You’ve got so fucking addicted to the way you do that,” confessing my weakness to her and making her giggle. Sophie’s eyes were dangerously alive as they skimmed over me. As her face hovered so close to mine, I could feel her warm breath on my lips, tempting me; teasing me. I bit the inside of my cheeks to suppress the moans that were dying to escape, cursing under my breath at how hard she had made me. I was losing the battle of resistance against her. I bucked, pushing my cock into her and receiving the force of her sex pushing back. "Ughh, fucking kiss me now, Sophie! Please, god, stop teasing me; let me feel your mouth on mine," I begged. 

But she pulled back instead, causing a gap between us. "Fuck, don't pull away, please, I just... You just... you and me..." "Noah, are you speechless?" she teased, sliding her fingers down my cheek. "Yes, yes I am, Princess. Maybe if you’d fucking kiss me then maybeI could finish my thought." “Kiss you, you want me to kiss you," she whispered, pressing her body down on me as she closed the gap between us, thankfully. "Wellm I want you to do more than kiss me, but you can start with kis...," My words were cut off by the pressure of her lips as she slammed her mouth into mine, letting me know she hungered for me just as much as I hungered for her. Every endorphin in my body exploded as our lips moved slowly, yet so eagerly together, but I wanted more; I wanted what was inside her mouth. "Open," I demanded, squeezing Sophie's ass and pushing her into me. She grunted at the feeling that ripped through her and obeyed, allowing me to slip my tongue in and taste every last bit of her. She tasted so good, making me wonder if other parts of her tasted as good. I could feel the pre-cum from my erection soak my underwear, making the restraint not to cum, hard. Then she started rocking back and forth on me, soft and slowly at first, while her arms wrapped around my neck and she pushed her supple breasts against my chest, making me groan with want. Sophie had me so worked up and out of it that I couldn’t hold my release in much longer.

"Shit! Sophie, I'm so close," I confessed, breathless. "So close to cumming," I growled in frustration, grabbing her hands and squeezing them tightly, controlling the urge to ravage her the way I was dying to. Her tongue grazed the inside of my bottom lip, begging to enter my mouth which I immediately gave her. "Do you want me to stop," she whispered in my ear after a few moments of tasting the inside of my mouth. "No, I don't," confessing unapologetically. 

She leaned back and grinned. I took in the way she looked; all worked up, hot, and beautiful. It was at that moment I knew I was done for. I had fallen for Sophie, completely fallen for absolutely everything about her, and it had only been six days. Sophie had me undone like putty in her hands and the intoxicating scent of vanilla that escaped from beneath her t-shirt aroused deep hidden feelings I'd forced myself to bury a long time ago that I just didn't want to feel anymore. I was afraid. The fear of being used and abandoned again began to creep into the crevices of my own heart, creating overthinking thoughts that I didn't want at the moment. 

Finally taking a moment, I slid my hands around her waist as Sophie slid hers around my face, cupping it between her fingers, and resting her elbows on my chest. Her thumbs caressed my lips and I relished the feeling of her touch, closing my eyes briefly and laying my head back. "God woman you're going to be the death of me, if that happens again," I confessed with a breathless chuckle, feeling her fingers slide down my throat. "Did it hurt?" I raised my head looking into her eyes as she sat back and placed her hands on my chest. Her lips were a perfect shade of pink, evidence of being savagely kissed over and over again. "Like a bitch,I replied. "Then why did you do it?" I shrugged. "Why not do it?" "Was it the worst one to have done?" "No, that would be my back. That motherfucker took hours, days, weeks, shit, I don't even remember that's how long it took." Sophie's laugh rang out through the apartment, breaking the quietness for the first time. “You keep calling me Princess. Why?” “Because you are; to me. You're valuable, worthy of everything that could be given to you. You deserve it.” She sighed a little, hanging her head and letting me know she didn't agree with me. “I don't care if you believe me or not. It's what's true to me and that's how it's going to be, so deal with it.”

 Quietly laughing, she fell into my chest and I wrapped her in my arms, placing a light kiss on her hair. "I'm sorry," she whispered, an apologetic look in her eyes. "For what?” I glanced at her quizzingly. “For teasing you.” “Are you being serious right now?” I chuckled, but I could see she was nervous by the way she picked at her fingers. "Hey, it's okay," I said, trying to reassure her that everything was fine. "There’s nothing to be sorry about. We’re two grown adults who consensually made out with each other. You have nothing to apologize about.” "I don't? Are you sure?" she asked, her voice a little unsteady. I shook my head. "No, you don't. Why would you think that?” She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sophie, look at me." She did and she seemed lost. The glow that had just been there was suddenly gone. "What is it?" "It's nothing; it's just that," she hesitated, stopping her sentence short. "I've never done this before Noah; what we just did," admitting shyly. "Perry and I never made out. It was always straight to the sex with him while calling all the shots. I never had a say." My shoulders fell. "What a sick fuck. Sophie, I'm sorry you had to live like that." She sighed. "It is what it is, right? Hopefully, it's not my life anymore,” shifting her eyes towards me. I grinned at her and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, shaking my head. “No, it's not.”

She got up off of my lap and reached out her hands to me. I took them and she pulled me to my feet. "Come help me pack? I'll leave all this for another day. I don't want to deal with it right now." Agreeing, I followed Sophie to the bedroom where she entered her closet and emerged with a duffle bag. After talking for a while as we packed up clothes and other essential items she would need, she zipped up her bag, ready to go, but not before grabbing a stuffed raccoon from her bed. I gave her a questioning look. "What? Don't judge me," she scolded. I threw my hands up in defense. "I'm not, you do you," taking her bag and slinging it over my shoulder, shooting her smile. “Just don’t let Matt see it. He might take it. Man has an unholy obsession with raccoons.” “Heavily noted,” she grinned.

Moments later, I stood next to her in the living room again, watching as she picked up little pieces here and there of her things, trying to salvage what she could. "Hey, Sophie, listen; when you're ready, I'll get the guys together and we'll come over and help get this place cleaned up. Maybe by then, you'll have a few things figured out." She nodded, wiping away the few tears that slid down her cheeks. "That would be really helpful, Noah, thanks," standing up a lamp that lay partially broken on the floor. "Maybe Perry will be in jail by then too." "What do you mean?”

"I called the police a few days ago and gave them my statement of what happened. I gave them all of Perry's information and mine. I told them to come here and see things for themselves. They came yesterday." “Oh! Why didn't you say anything?" "What was there to tell, Noah," she shrugged. "None of this is on you or your friends to feel or handle; it's mine. My mess, my problem, my life, as fucked up as it all is. You guys have already done so much for me, not only by giving me a place to heal and rest but a safe place to get my mind together and figure crap out. That's more than anyone has ever done for me."

I stood there quietly, thinking of so much I wanted to say, but in the end, I just said okay and promised her the mess in her apartment would be handled. Since meeting Sophie, I came to realize how strong of a woman she was mentally and emotionally. She was putting on a good front, pretending that things weren't so bad, but I was already a player of the convincing game enough to recognize the signs of coming undone; and she was close. Whatever happened those few days she stayed locked up in my bedroom wasn't enough to keep her together and it was just a matter of time before the dam in her head and heart would break. But I made a promise to myself, as I followed her out the door, that no matter what happened or how difficult it would be, I was going to be the one to pick her up and love her when her world came crashing down. No matter what, I wasn't going anywhere, because I'd already made my mind up and staked my claim on Sophie's heart. She was mine and I was hers and my intuition was telling me she felt the same way. It was only a matter of time before the universe would decide to put all the pieces that had begun to form around us, together.

CHAPTER 6 PT.1

[stevenblueniverse]

Bellow selkie au chapter 6 (sorry if this one is short)

Chapter 6 welcome to humanity?

Yellow secretly lead "blue diamond" through the small town at the dead of night, it was dark enough outside that no one would be able to see them and no one would be out. Blue was still visibly worried, tightly holding onto yellows arm with one hand, the other still on her coat as they made their way to where yellow's stayed, yellow tried to whisper to blue that shed be ok, only to be frantically hushed incase someone was listening in. They where able to get to where yellow was currently staying quite quickly, blue was silent but obviously interested by the place, looking around and pointing to things she'd definitely never seen before, now it was yellows turn to explain things.

Blue laid down on yellows bed and looked up to the ceiling, "so bright...so soft", she said, spreading out her arms, her voice was still very quiet, yellow thought she'd be less shy now that their in a safer place. "Is the light too much for you?", yellow asked, blue was looking right up to it, she feared it could hurt her eyes. "No, I like it", blue said, sitting up and getting off the bed, walking in direction to the bathroom door opposite to the bed to explore this new place some more.

Blue opened the bathroom door and looked around the small room. It wasn't much, just a toilet with a small sink opposite to it and a very small bath with a shower above it. "What's this?", blue asked, walking in and looking around, yellow followed after, not being able to get in the room much as barely two people could fit in. "Oh this is...how do I explain it? You go here too-," yellow was stopped by blue turning on the sink, rolling up the sleeves on her coat and poking the water with her fingers, "...water room?" Blue asked, turning around to yellow, poking the water some more. "kinda", yellow replied, moving into the room some more now that blue had moved from the door, "we can use this place to clean ourselves, like here", she gestured the bath to blue, "you fill this with water and can sit in it and be able to clean your whole body".

When yellow said this an idea came into blue's mind, "Oh can I sit in it?", blue asked, sounding a bit excited. Yellow immediately imagined a scenario of blue using the bath to turn into a seal and destroying everything flash into her mind, she shook her head. "No way! What if you transform!?", yellow cried, blue pouted, "I won't! Trust me! Please let me use it?", her face was too cute for yellow to resist, "fine!", yellow huffed, walking out the room In case somehow she'd get crushed by a huge seal trying to swim around in such a small bathtub.

"I'm going to bed now, it's very late and when I wake up there better not be a giant seal shaped hole here!", yellow called, not fully closing the door behind her and laying down on the bed, "I can't believe I'm doing this", she mumbled to herself, crawling up to the top of the bed to switch the light off, the light in the bathroom was still on and shining on her, making her struggle even more when trying to relax and get her mind off the possibility of a selkie causing chaos.

Yellow tried to sleep but couldnt, whenever she tried to she'd have a nightmare of a huge seal breaking down her bathroom door then she'd wake up again, she couldn't take it anymore. Yellow got up from the bed and noticed she hadn't closed the door the whole way, she'd be able to see if Blue had transformed or not, she carefully put her face to the small gap and watched, trying to be as silent as possible.

The bathtub was now fully filled, blue had been constantly messing with the temperature this whole time, turning it off to make it hot then turning it off again to make it cold. It was so full it would probably spill everywhere if blue got in now a bit of sweat ran down yellow's face, "she's going to flood the place, isn't she?", she thought to herself, thinking about how expensive the damage will be and fighting the urge to break in there and stop her from whatever she was going to do next.

Blue poked the water some more, checking the temperature, it was now perfect to her it seemed, she looked around and, to yellow's shock took off her coat and neatly folded it on top of the toilet. She was completely naked underneath, her long hair covering most of her back. yellow's eyes widened and she quickly looked away, regretting ever looking and blushing heavily from embarrassment, she ran away from the door, holding her warm red cheeks and laid back down on the bed, trying to act like nothing had happened.