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eldritch-nightmare · 1 year ago

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Can you make a scenario about how the pastas would react after an argument? Like, if the reader left to get some fresh air? (I crave angst)

-💫Anon

a/n: indeed i can my friend here's a healthy amount of (very mild) angst just for you. i'm so totally gonna use this idea in a future chapter for the silly lil scenarios book as well because uh angst. maybe the prompt got away from me just a little bit i won't lie.

how do they react after an argument?

includes: jeff the killer, laughing jack, slenderman, nina the killer, eyeless jack, jane the killer, candy pop, clockwork, ticci toby, nurse ann, x virus, kagekao, jason the toymaker, the puppeteer, homicidal liu, sully, the bloody painter, the doll maker, zalgo, and hobo heart.

warnings: the aftermath of an argument, relationship disputes, some of these are healthy and some of these are not, inconsistent length.

JEFF THE KILLER would honestly be more upset if you walked out after an argument. he's already upset enough as it is, so you turning your back to him and storming out just makes his blood boil. he won't follow after you, but he'll definitely disappear for the next few days. he really isn't the best at resolving arguments, no matter how small they are. and unless he really fucks up, then he isn't going to apologize even if he is in the wrong. he's jeff the fucking killer, what the hell does he have to feel sorry about? you should consider yourself lucky that he didn't gut you for pissing him off.

if you want to have any form of resolve to this argument, you'll have to force the conversation because he will actively try to shut you down. he can't. he literally can't. resolution is not something he is good at, and unless you're the one to apologize, even if you aren't the one who is at fault, he's just not going to let any of this resolve. does that make him an asshole? yeah, it does. does he feel guilty? just a little. does that change anything? no, not really.

LAUGHING JACK, similar to jeff, would feel more upset over you walking away from the fight rather than the fight itself. he can come off as pretty scary during an argument, especially if it's one where he feels like he's in the right. he gets frustrated easily, and he's just overall a very expressive person, so. and he can get pretty fucking mean if he wants to, so yeah honestly you needing to walk away makes complete and total sense and he knows that it makes sense but that doesn't make him any less upset.

he'll just blame it on his abandonment issues or something because seeing you leave just to go and calm down should not have hurt as much as it did. and he debates going after you but he ultimately decides it would be best if he didn't. he wants to resolve this though, and he'll try but it'll be painfully awkward because, i mean, yeah.

SLENDERMAN is, by default, a pretty scary being the begin with so i imagine an argument with it would be pretty unnerving. it isn't used to people arguing with it, that's for sure. i think it would be more amused than upset, seeing such a small being stare up at it as if trying to intimidate it... it's a cute sight to see, that's for sure. it'll keep that thought to itself, of course. it imagines that saying such a thing out loud may only make things worse.

slender won't be upset when you walk away. it understands that you're just going to cool off. it'll take this time to clear its own thoughts until the two of you are ready to talk again and clear up the tension.

NINA THE KILLER would be immensely frustrated seeing you walk away. she'll probably let out a groan and tell you to come back, but she won't follow after you. she understands that if the two of you kept arguing any longer, things would only get worse. she knows that, so she'll use this as a chance to calm down herself. nina gets over things easier than you would think, and if this argument wasn't over anything major then the next time you see her, she'll most likely be back to her usual self.

she'll probably be the first to apologize as well, even if she feels as if she's not the one at fault. she can't stand when you're upset at her, so just accept her apology so the two of you can move on, yeah?

EYELESS JACK is always viewed as mature and in control of his emotions. and he is. a little too in control if we're being honest here. for most arguments you guys may have, he'll keep his cool and will try to understand your point of view and where you're coming from. there are times, however, when the control he has over his emotions slips, and you get reminded that oh. your boyfriend is a cannibalistic demon that can literally kill you in the blink of an eye. he really doesn't mean to scare you, but it's definitely a good thing you choose that moment to walk away to cool off because he has to physically force himself to not go after you.

and once he calms down, he will apologize. it's a genuine apology, one written all over his face. he never wants to or means to invalidate you and your emotions, and he never wants to make you scared of him.

JANE THE KILLER would probably be the first to walk away from an argument, if we're being fairly honest. if this is richardson we're talking about, then she's definitely more mature about it and politely suggests that you both take fifteen minutes to cool off before continuing the conversation. she does it because it's one, a healthy thing to do for your relationship, and two, while she is heavily in control of her emotions, the liquid hate running through her veins enhances her anger and it would be really bad if she genuinely got angry.

if this is arkensaw, i think she'll be a little less mature than she would like. she portrays herself as someone in control of her emotions, but her emotions and her hatred are what drive her. she does her best to her burning-hot anger in check but if you two have an argument, then it's fairly difficult. if you walk away first, then it'll only serve to upset her more, but she won't go after you. honestly, she'll probably even avoid you in the coming days because her anger lingers. it always lingers.

CANDY POP thinks it's cute that this little argument of yours got you so worked up that you had to walk away from him. honestly hell yeah if i were you i'd walk away from him as well because there is simply no winning with this guy. worst man you could ever argue with, to be honest.

but as we all know, his mood can change in an instant with no warning so. one moment, he thinks you walking away from him is cute and adorable. the next, he's getting frustrated and following after you because you don't get to walk away from him, silly. haven't you realized that he owns you?

CLOCKWORK, while she has her own anger issues and tends to get easily frustrated by the smallest of things, does try her best to keep her emotions in check if you two ever have an argument. it's not easy, and there have been times when she's snapped at you, but she always apologizes immediately after.

you walking away would make sense. she understands, she knows that you both need to take time to calm down before things get too heated. she gets it. but depending on what you two are arguing about, doing so could only serve to make her more angry. it's... frustrating, really. she won't follow after you though, because she knows it's what is best.

TOBY would want you to walk away. he needs it, to be honest. he tries to avoid getting into arguments with you for various different reasons. arguing with you stresses him out more than he would like it to, and it reminds him of the hold you have on him. you walking away from the argument would give him time to clear his head and cool off.

once you've both calmed down, he'll probably be the first to approach you because he cannot stand the awkward tension that always lingers after arguments with people. he wants to clear the air so this can all just be water under the bridge. it'll be a painfully awkward conversation though. he's not good at... resolving arguments. never had a positive example, to be honest.

NURSE ANN struggles to speak, so i think she would try to avoid getting into an argument because she feels as if she won't be able to properly get her point across. but arguments are bound to happen sooner or later, even in the healthiest relationships. and ann, to put it simply, is a very angry person. she keeps that anger in check when you're around, but it's literally impossible to not slip up a few times.

since ann rarely ever vocally speaks, her anger is typically conveyed in her stares and her jerky gestures as she signs. you walking away is the smartest thing you could do in that moment, leaving her alone to stew in her always-burning anger that she'll choose to take out on any nearby destructible objects or some sad poor soul that just so happens to trespass at her hospital in the coming hours.

X-VIRUS seems like the type of guy who has never really been in any arguments, to be honest. maybe when he was at the orphanage he got into a few petty arguments between the other kids, but nothing that would warrant needing to walk away, y'know? and i definitely don't think he'd treat the argument seriously, brushing off your words and whatnot.

he only realizes that you were genuinely angry with him when you walked away. it's definitely like... a slap in the face that oh. i'm a fucking asshole. he's not really sure what to do in this moment, and he waits until you come back on your own to try and apologize. but he's not the best at apologies.

KAGEKAO wouldn't treat the argument seriously at all. at least, not at first. honestly, he'd probably purposefully get you even more upset just to get a reaction out of you. does that make him an asshole? oh, most certainly. he just likes seeing you feel anything towards him, even if it's anger. he likes getting a reaction out of you because it's him you're reacting to. and it's entertaining as well, though you don't need to know that.

when you walk away, he'll feel a little frustrated at not being able to see you but he won't follow after you. he knows when to stop his antics. shocking, i know. and, if you're lucky, he may even hold you in his arms once you calm down. it's his way of an apology, i suppose.

JASON THE TOYMAKER fucking hates arguing with you. you're his other half, so arguing with you makes him feel sick to his stomach because what if... what if you aren't the one? he likes you too much to lose you, so you have to be the one. he definitely seems like he'd try to keep the argument short, and he'll be relieved when you walk away to cool off.

you don't try to leave him afterward, even if he was at fault for whatever you two may have been bickering over. that's good, really. that means you want to stay with him, even if you two have arguments like this. that's... that's so good.

THE PUPPETEER can't stand when anyone argues with him, so yeah, any argument you may have with him will be horrible and tense and it will not be pretty. he has to be the one to get the final word. he has to be the one in the right, even if he isn't. you must be aware of this, right? i mean, you're (hopefully, i assume) willingly sticking around this guy, right? so you should know that there's no winning with him.

and you walking away is simply not something he'll take kindly to. it's something that'll more than likely get a how dare you reaction out of him. you're a fool if you think he's just going to let you walk away. no, he'll either follow after you, or he'll pull you back with his strings. the conversation isn't over until he says that it's over.

HOMICIDAL LIU definitely does try to avoid any potential arguments with you. to be honest, most of your arguments with him will more than likely stem from his almost blatant disregard for his health and safety when he's injured as well as his almost suffocating habit of needing to protect you and keep you safe. it's inevitable, even if it's something he tries so desperately to avoid. that desperation is what tends to lead to arguments as well, if we're being honest.

he's not upset when you walk away. honestly, he's glad that you do. he always feels pretty damn awful whenever you two fight, and he patiently waits until you're ready to pick things back up so you two can resolve things and move on.

SULLY listens to everything you say with rapt attention. the only thing that matters to him at that moment is whatever you two are arguing about. hell, he doesn't give a shit about the argument itself rather than what you say, the expressions you make, and your tone of voice. every little gesture or movement you make catches his attention. honestly, if you asked him what you two were arguing about, he'd just look at you with a slightly confused expression because he's already forgotten.

and when you walk away to cool off and get some air, he has to restrain himself from following after you. he forces himself to sit down and he bites his fist as his mind hyper-focuses on every word you said and the way you looked at him and just... yeah, he's already moved on from the argument he just wants to see your face and hear your voice again.

THE BLOODY PAINTER is definitely not someone you want to have an argument with, honestly. not because he's an angry person or scary to get into an argument with or anything like that, no. he's just... very apathetic. it'll feel like you're arguing with a brick wall rather than a person, and you'll maybe even feel as if he doesn't care about you or your feelings. he just stares at you, blank-faced and monotoned.

once you realize that this argument is going literally nowhere, you leave to calm yourself down and he stays behind. it's not that he doesn't care about you and your feelings, he does, truly, he just... well... i could go into heavy heavy detail about his apathy when it comes to arguments but to spare you the length of that, just know that he does care, he's just absolutely horrific at showing it. once you come back, he will apologize for not better expressing himself and for unintentionally invalidating you and your feelings. he'll be better, though it will take time for him to become expressive.

THE DOLL MAKER seems like the type of person who wouldn't handle arguments well, i think. he's a fairly closed-off person and has some trouble conveying his thoughts and feelings sometimes, so i think it would stress him out a bunch if he got into a fight with you. depending on how bad the argument is, he'll either try to diffuse the situation or he may get angry and make things worse.

the moment you walk off, vine will be throwing himself into work to both calm himself down and distract himself from any potentially needless thoughts. he'll certainly try his best to resolve the conflict with you once you've both taken time to calm down but it'll definitely be stiff.

ZALGO would be very amused if you try arguing with him over something. you, a silly little mortal that somehow managed to catch his interest, are trying to argue with him, an eldritch horror beyond human comprehension that literally creates chaos for shits and giggles? how adorable. he's not going to take you seriously at all, i hope you know that.

and even if you walk away, you won't exactly be alone. zalgo is always there with you, even if not physically. a part of him is stuck with you, so he's always able to watch you, to talk to you. he thinks you're being dramatic for getting upset over something that he deems to be so utterly insignificant. there won't be any form of conflict resolution with him, so don't expect any form of apology or empathy or anything of that sort.

HOBO HEART you gotta be careful with, i think. the last time he felt as if he'd been wronged by the person he loved, he tore her heart out. not to say he'd tear your heart out over a minor argument or anything like that, no, that would be pretty petty and... he doesn't really think he's a terrible enough person to do that. maybe. depending on how serious the argument is.

he'll be a little disheartened when you walk away because he would rather clear up the air and tension immediately rather than wait but he understood, somewhat, that it'd be better if you both took time to cool off before either of you tried to resolve the conflict hanging in the air.

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javierpena-inatacvest · 27 days ago

Text

Chapter 2- Awakening

Summary: There was once a time in his life where knocking on your front door was the best part of Frankie's day. Now, the thought of having to ring your doorbell to face you makes him sick to his stomach.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: (the tiniest hint of) smut (18+), illusions to masturbation (m), angst/regret, fluff, awkward adolescent yearning (I have quickly come to learn this is my favorite thing to write whoops), Frankie realizing he's caught a case of the ✨feelings �� and doesn't know what to do

A/N: Less than 10K word chapters?!? Posting a series on a schedule?!?! I don't even know who I am anymore?!?! AH, thank you guys for all your sweet words about this series so far. Writing this has sparked such a joy inside me, and it means so much that y'all are willing to read my silly lil story 🥺💛 This chapter is from Frankie's POV- I know the first chapter had both reader and Frankie, but as I've been writing, it seems like it fits the story better if some are both POV's and some are just one!

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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Frankie, Present

“Bring these next door.”

His mother doesn’t even ponder the idea of phrasing it as a question when she practically drops the plate of chocolate chip cookies into Frankie’s lap.

“Ma, it’s 7:30 in the morning.” Frankie looks up at her dumbfounded.

“And? You’ve never eaten a cookie for breakfast when you’re sad? Go now, they’re still warm.”

There’s no way he’ll be able to head anywhere but straight out his front door, but Christ, he at least hoped he would have been able to buy himself a little time before having to face you.

“I just got back from a run. I smell like shit. Can I at least shower first, por favor?”

“Fine,” she groans, reluctant to give in so easily, “but be quick. Don’t think I won’t turn the hot water off, mijo. I don’t want these getting cold.”

She knows her son would take an hour long shower if he could. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’s spent way too long in the bathroom, over analyzing every inch of himself before going to see you. His mom isn’t sure if she should thank you or not for her son’s dedication to hygiene. She could barely get him to shower for the first 10 years of his life, but after you moved in, a few days before the start of 6th grade, bathing had magically no longer become an issue.

Frankie understands her threat of an ice cold shower is very real, and a very effective way to finally get him four doors down. He lets the hot water wash over his skin, turning it to a temperature that’s almost too painful to stand. He hopes that somehow, it’s hot enough to wash away all the sins he’s prayed you’d forgive him for, that the regret of every poor decision he’s been plagued by washes down the drain, disappearing never to be seen again.

He wishes it was that easy. That a simple shower would grant him the forgiveness he’s not sure you’ll ever give him. He wouldn’t blame you if you never did.

He forces himself to put on the first pair of shorts and t-shirt that he pulls out of his suitcase. If he doesn’t, he’ll be stuck in his room for the rest of the day trying to figure out what to wear to bring a plate of cookies to your doorstep.

“You should apologize, you know.” It’s the first thing his mom has to say to him as he makes his way down the stairs, barely three steps into the kitchen before she’s at his throat again.

“For bringing them dessert at 7:30 in the morning? I was planning on it.” Frankie huffs, trying to deflect the plan for the real apology he knows he should be making.

“Dios mio, Francisco, you know what I mean. I hope you’ve thought about how you’re going to explain yourself to her. You owe that girl an apology for the hell you’ve put her through.”

Frankie can’t blame his mother for the way she’s twisting the knife that’s stuck in his gut. He’s the one who put it there in the first place.

“I know. I’ve thought about it, believe me.”

They both know that’s the truth. Frankie’s spent more hours than he can count thinking about what possible combination of words he can string together that won’t make you hate him anymore than you already do. In fact, he’s spent so long thinking about it, replaying the million and one things he could say to you over and over in his head, that he’s convinced there’s nothing he could tell you that would buy him even a shred of forgiveness.

“Fuck you, Mackenzie. Fuck you for ruining my life. It’ll be better off without you fucking in it.”

Three years ago, he disappeared out of your life and those were the last words he left you with. He's spent three years of letting the last thing he had to say you haunt him like some sort of ugly ghost he can't forget.

At this point, there's a part of him that's not even sure he's worthy of forgiveness.

“Mom?” Frankie asks, eyes peeled to the ground, trying to keep his voice from breaking, “Am I making a huge fucking mistake coming back here?”

“Well mijo,” She pauses, gently cradling her son’s face, lifting his chin enough to let his tired, worn eyes meet hers, “That, I cannot tell you. Some things you have to figure out on your own. I think this is one of them. But what I can tell you,” she stops again, ensuring Frankie is listening, really listening to what she has to say, “is that you have never been one to leave things unfinished. I think there are still things left to finish here for you, Francisco.”

The slow nod of his head in her palm tells her he’s heard every word. He knows he needs to finish what he’s started.

“You also need to finish bringing these cookies to the Andersons, sí? Don’t think I forgot.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

Frankie’s not sure the walk to your house has ever felt this long. Every step against the pavement makes his feet feel heavier, weighing his body down, its final attempt at keeping him from showing up at your front door. It takes every ounce of strength he has left to get him there, but he does. He won’t himself fail you again. He can’t.

When he knocks on your door, he’s suddenly 11 years old, palms sweating and heart racing as he rings your doorbell for the first time, hoping the cool girl who moved in down the street still wants to play football with him.

Right now, he’d give anything to be that 11 year old boy again. God, what he’d give to grab little him by the shoulders and shake all of the stupid decisions he plans on making in the years to come right out of him. He’d give anything for someone to come shake the stupid out of him now.

Seconds pass like hours as he waits for someone to answer his knock. Maybe it won’t be you who does. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it'll be your mom. Maybe your dad, who is sitting on his literal deathbed, will be blessed with some divine miracle that grants him the strength to get up and answer the door instead of you.

“Be right there!”

He’d recognize your voice anywhere. It’s been three years since he’s heard it. Even with all the time that’s passed, there’s not a doubt in his mind he knows it’s yours.

Fuck, he’s missed the sound of you more than he’d ever like to admit.

He braces himself as the lock clicks on the other side of the door. The knot in his stomach tightens as he watches it open.

His heart wants to burst out of his chest when you finally appear on the other side.

“F-Frankie?”

“Hi, Mackenzie.”

Frankie, Fall of 2002, Age 14

It’s been 3 years, and Frankie still rings your doorbell every time he’s at your front door. Both you and your parents have been more than adamant he’s welcome to let himself in, at this point, they leave the door unlocked just for him.

As much as he wants to just slip through the front door unannounced to see you, he knows his mom would kill him if he didn’t wait to be let in and make his presence known.

“Francisco, I do not care how often you are over there, you are a guest in their home. If they are gracious enough to let you over, the least you can do is use your manners and greet them at the door.”

Frankie’s always been polite, but the world would stop spinning before his mother would let anyone else even have an inkling of thinking otherwise.

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind. He’d be hard pressed to find any 14 year old who didn’t have some sort of complaint about their parents, but you never really do, and he can see why.

They’re your parents, and he loves his mamá more than life, but the Anderson’s had taken Frankie under their wing from the moment he had crossed the threshold from their patio to their living room and never looked back.

It didn’t take long for the three toned chime of your doorbell to become the favorite part of his daily routine.

“Hi Frankie! Come on in, honey.”

Mrs. Anderson has that soft kind of sweetness that would make anyone’s day brighter, the kind of gentleness that a gardener has when tending to a field of their favorite flowers. She’s the type of person that would put anyone before herself, to a fault. It’s no wonder that given the circumstances, a house that should be shrouded in sadness is one of the places that Frankie feels the happiest.

“Thanks Mrs. Anderson. Can I put this in the freezer for Kenz? I figured she may want it when she gets home later.” Frankie gestures down to the chocolate chip cookie dough Blizzard he’s holding, trying to keep it from melting any further.

It’s become a sacred ritual that every Friday night, you and him ride your bikes to the Dairy Queen two miles down the road. He always gets an Oreo Blizzard, you, a chocolate chip cookie dough one. On the few Friday nights you can’t spend together, it’s an unspoken agreement that a Blizzard will still end up in the other’s freezer for the next day. It’s only happened once that a cookie dough Blizzard hasn’t been found in your residence within 24 hours of the start to your weekend- the one time Frankie was out of town to visit his family, you were pleasantly surprised to find not one, but two Blizzards in your freezer on Monday night upon his return.

“Frank the Tank! How’s it going, buddy?”

It’s always nice to see your dad up and around the house. His cancer has taken a lot of things from him, but his personality certainly isn’t one of them. Some bouts of chemo and treatment are worse than others, but it never ceases to keep Mr. Anderson from being the happiest man Frankie’s ever met. You always tease Frankie that he comes over to your house so often just so he can spend time with your dad. While of course it’s not 100% true that Doug Anderson is the only reason Frankie finds himself at your doorstep nearly every day, he also won’t deny the sense of comfort it brings him that your dad treats him like his own son.

“Hi Mr. Anderson!” Frankie smiles, shoving your Blizzard in the top left corner of your freezer between the ice packs and frozen vegetables.

“Another Blizzard for me? Always so generous, Frank. I’m convinced you might start running a Dairy Queen out of our kitchen pretty soon.” Mr. Anderson teases, giving Frankie a light punch to the shoulder. “How’d your algebra test go the other day, bud?”

“Pretty good, I think.” Frankie shrugs, trying to play off his confidence.

“Think you got a higher score than Kenzie?”

“I think so. But don’t tell her that.”

“Oh believe me, I will. Smart kid like you has gotta put her in her place every once and a while.”

Frankie blushes. School has never been his strong suit. He’s smart in the way he could fix just about anything from the time he could barely walk, but sitting in a classroom trying to absorb information through reading, taking notes and test taking has always made him feel like an idiot. You, on the other hand, could graduate in your sleep with straight A’s. He’s not sure how you do it, but it’s enough motivation to make him want to at least try. He thanks his lucky stars that this year, math is finally starting to make sense, and he’s got the upper hand on you for now.

“Is Kenz upstairs? I know she’s got her soccer banquet tonight, I just wanted to hang out for a little before she has to go.”

Normally he wouldn’t mind staying longer to talk to your dad, but on days he knows he’s working on a limited time table, efficiency is of the essence.

“Should be. If not, we have a problem on our hands.”

Frankie scurries from the kitchen and through the living room, up the familiar and well traveled path to your bedroom door. His heart always races a little faster every time he reaches the top step to the second floor.

Normally, it’s three long strides to cross the threshold into your bedroom before he plops himself on the edge of your bed, but as he takes a left turn at the top of the stairwell, he’s surprised to find your bedroom door is closed, and locked.

“Kenz! It’s me! Open up!” Frankie raps his fist on the back of your door, knuckles thumping against the wood.

“Not now, Frankie!”

He’s taken aback by your protest, scrunching his brow at your response and the distress in your voice through the other end of the door.

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” He asks, now a little more concerned.

“It’s just- Ugh! It’s nothing! It’s stupid, okay! I just don’t have time for this right now!”

You and him both know that’s not enough to get him to leave. Frankie is persistent. He’s not going anywhere until you open that door and he gets an answer as to what’s making you so upset.

“C’mon, MacKenzie.”

He only pulls the full name card for serious occasions, because he knows it’ll work. It’ll work every time. That’s why he can’t help but smirk at the click of your door handle unlocking, giving him permission to step inside.

Except he can’t.

“Kenz, get off the door and let me in!”

“I’m not on the door! Ugh, hold on.”

With the force Frankie was using, he nearly falls flat on his face as the barricade you’d built on your side of the door is removed, stumbling into your room and landing face first in a pile of clothes. As he looks up, he’s greeted with a sight he’s never once seen before in your room, and he has no idea what to make of it.

“Jesus Christ, dude, what happened in here?!”

To say a bomb had exploded in your closet would have been a polite way to put it. Every piece of clothing you owned was now a casualty on your bedroom floor, down to every last pair of shoes. You could barely stand to have a singular, stray sock on the ground, your bedroom always the near picture perfect scene of immaculately neat. So to see the disaster your room had become, Frankie knew that something had gone very, very wrong.

“I don’t have anything to wear for tonight!”

“Yeah you do, have you seen all the clothes on your floor? I think you have enough clothes for a small village.”

“Francisco!”

If she’s already pulling the full name card on him too, it must be serious.

“Sorry! Is this because of the end of the season soccer party tonight? I thought you said you were just gonna wear like, a skirt or something?”

Frankie’s never even contemplated the idea of you being upset over an outfit. You’d always been amicable in the wardrobe department- t-shirt, shorts, sneakers, same has him. This is uncharted territory for the both of you.

“Yeah, but then at lunch today Katie and Morgan said all of the Seniors want to dress up, like, really nice, and now I’m freaking out because I don’t know what to wear and I don’t wanna look like an idiot Freshman who shows up in something dumb.”

Frankie knows you’re stressed from how intensely you’re picking at the skin around your nails, leg bouncing furiously while your eyes dart around the room at the heaps of clothes stacked around the floor.

“You’re not gonna look dumb, Kenzie. You’re the only Freshman that’s made the Varsity soccer team in like, a million years. Hard to look stupid if you’re that good.”

It may not be much help, but it’s at least enough to bring you off the brink of tears.

“I guess,” you pause, too stubborn to admit that he’s right, “It’s just- all the other girls on the team are so pretty. When we’re playing it doesn’t matter ‘cause we’re all sweaty and gross, but- I don’t know, I feel like I’m gonna look so awkward next to everyone.”

But you are pretty.

It’s the first thought that pops into Frankie’s brain. He’s not sure how it got there so fast. All of a sudden he feels a hundred degrees hotter, hoping you won’t notice the way he visibly tries to shake the thought out of his head..

Where did that come from? She’s your friend, Frankie. Your best friend. She’s not pretty, she’s just MacKenzie.

“You won’t look awkward, you’re gonna be fine. I promise.” He’s relieved his response doesn’t seem to raise any suspicions, like you would have been able to read his mind and watch his thinking play out in real time.

“If I um- If I- Never mind, this is stupid! Ugh, this is stupid.”

You’re pacing now, arms crossed so tightly over your chest, he’s worried you’re going to squeeze your own eyes out like one of those little squishy toys you win from a claw machine. That’s if you don’t burn a hole in your carpet first.

“What?”

“If I-” You stammer again, scrunching your face at your own frustration, “If I try on what I think I should wear, will you tell me if it looks dumb or not?”

You’ve asked Frankie plenty for plenty of favors in the three years you’ve known him- being the one to lead the two of you home on a bike ride in the dark, opening your pudding for you at lunch because it exploded on you once and you’re terrified it will again, catching the giant spider that makes a recurrence in the top right corner of your bedroom and throwing it out the window- He’s not sure why out of all those things, this is the most terrifying favor you’d ever asked of him.

“Y-yeah. Okay.”

The two of you quietly nod at each other for a moment, Frankie hoping that he’s not the only one who’s wondering why the air has all of a sudden seemed to have gotten thicker.

“Okay. Well, um- turn around.” You point for him to take his usual spot on the edge of the bed, ensuring that his back’s to you and eyes only have the choice to roam the floor or the wall above your desk before he hears the shuffling of clothes behind him.

It’s then that everything starts to move in slow motion, like a flip has suddenly switched in Frankie’s brain as a wave of unsolicited thoughts begin to flood his head, feeling himself drown in the panic and confusion that’s washing over him.

What if he did turn around? You’re probably taking off your clothes right now. Are you in just your underwear? What color is it? Maybe you’re all the way naked. What would you look like? Why does he all of a sudden want to know so bad? What’s wrong with him?

In his manic state, his eyes are darting everywhere, trying to find something to lock onto that will shake him from whatever obscene cycle of thought he’s caught himself in. He instantly regrets when he lets his gaze fall to his feet, because peeking out of the pile of clothes beneath him is the better part of a bra.

Your bra.

He feels so awful that he can’t stop looking at it. So guilty that he can’t help the fact he’s trying to commit every detail of it to his brain- the teal and green polka dots, the thin lace that covers the shoulder strap, the little bow that sits in between the two cups where your breasts would go. He can’t stop staring. He can’t stop thinking about what you would look like in it. The only thing that stops him is hearing your voice from over his shoulder. And somehow, your voice only makes his chest feel tighter.

“You promise you won’t make fun of me if I look stupid?” Your words are so soft, delicate and fragile in a way he’s never heard you use them before. However scared you are, right now, Frankie would be willing to take that feeling and triple it for himself.

“Promise.”

His eyes are still closed when he swings his legs over the other edge of the bed. He’s too afraid to open them.

“You’re gonna have to open your eyes, unless you’ve suddenly obtained x-ray vision that you haven’t told me about in the last thirty seconds.”

The way you tease him grounds him enough to give in. It doesn’t ground him enough from leaving him speechless the moment he opens his eyes.

“Kenz… You uh, you- um-”

He’s stumbling over his words, trying to find them fast enough to stop the disappointment that’s flooding over your face because you think he hates the way you look. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“I look dumb, don’t I? It’s fine, Frankie, you can just say it.” You’re back to pacing again, storming around your room with a desperate, crazed look in your eye. “Ugh! This sucks! Why is this so hard, I just wanna-”

“You look really pretty.”

It stops you dead in your tracks. He can almost hear how hard you gulp, looking back at him like a deer in headlights.

“W-what?”

You ask it like you didn’t hear exactly what he said. He knows you did. You always do. It doesn’t stop him from trying to twist his words to help him out of the hole he’s already dug himself into.

“Your- Your dress. It looks really nice. You should wear it.”

He’s not sure how much time passes as the two of you finally lock eyes. Thirty seconds? Ten minutes? An hour? The way you’re looking at him right now is enough to make his world stop turning. It only makes it worse that he swears he can see your lips trying to fight the smile that’s slowly curling in the corner of your mouth.

“MacKenzie! We need to go, sweetie! Dad and I will meet you in the car!”

Frankie doesn’t know if it’s divine intervention or a devilish curse that your mom is calling for you from the bottom of the stairs. Whatever it is, it’s enough to snap both of you out of the strange spell that had overcome your bedroom and make Frankie feel like the only appropriate response was to race out of your house and hide in embarrassment for the next forty-eight hours.

“I should um- I should go, too. Santi’s probably waiting for me at his house. Have fun tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, o-okay. You have fun, too. Tell Ding Dong I say hi. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Frankie’s in a trance the rest of the night. Physically, he spends the next few hours in Santi’s basement, glued to the couch while his friend yells at him that he’s not using the right combination of moves to max out his points in Tony Hawk Pro Skater 3. Mentally, he’s convinced he no longer exists on the same planet as anyone else around him.

When he gets home, all he can do is stare at his ceiling. If he closes his eyes to try to fall asleep, the only thing he can see is that teal and green bra laying on your bedroom floor.

He wishes the thought of you in it didn’t make his stomach churn. He wishes it wasn’t you he was picturing when he lets his hand creep below the waistband of his sweatpants. He wishes it wasn’t your name he was muttering under his breath as he makes a mess in hand, hips stuttering into his grasp.

He wishes it wasn’t you.

At least that’s what he tells himself. Maybe one day, it’ll work.

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stevie-petey · 11 months ago

Text

episode eight: the upside down

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends? “Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused. “Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!” “We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted. Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

summary: drinking game time ! take a shot every time jonathan tries ditching you or every time you almost die at the byers house, you find out that steve really is an athlete and tbh it's hot, but you know what's even hotter ? saving hawkins and reaching a tentative compromise with steve after he loans you $5 for snacks. after, jonathan makes a promise you really hope he can keep.

rating: general, cursing and slight scary violence

warnings: violence, use of fire and weapons, guns, use of fem!reader and use of y/n, slight mentions of blood and death

words: 13.7k

before you swing in: the final chapter ,,, my heart </3 please enjoy my child, i put so much into this chapter. action scenes scare me, they're hard and i'm weak, so i hope this lives up to everything you guys wanted n more ;) i cannot believe we're at the end (but i do have another chapter planned that's set in season 1, so shhhh). thank you so so so much for all your support. i never thought this silly lil fic would get that much attention, but i'm insanely flattered and grateful for each and every one of y'all. i'm so proud of what i've created and you guys are my beloveds ,,, anyways, enjoy !!!

You almost miss Jonathan and Nancy sneaking off.

You had been explaining a comic book that had been in your bag to El when you noticed a shift in your periphery. Turning your head, you see Jonathan stand, offer Nancy his hand to help her up, and then walk towards the main doors together.

What the fuck.

“They wouldn’t dare…” You excuse yourself and run out the gym and into the hallway to follow them, absolutely furious. You’re so sick of their bullshit, of Jonathan’s bullshit and putting Nancy first. This isn’t even a petty jealousy thing, this is about the years of friendship between the two of you that has just suddenly disappeared within a damn week all due to circumstances completely out of your control.

The slam of the main door is the only warning Jonathan gets before you’re yanking him by his coat and flinging him back, forcing him to look at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You’ve never, ever yelled at him like this before. Not even earlier this week when he’d given you that bullshit apology after screaming at you for being in his room, for saying the two of you weren’t family. You didn’t yell at him for hiding Nancy’s pictures from you, for going off without you to find the monster. Despite everything, you’ve never been this cruel to him, even if he may have deserved it at times.

Jonathan’s wide eyes stare down at your hand that’s still clutched around his coat, frightened. “Bug, we were just–”

“Just what? Sneaking off without me?”

“It’s not like that, Y/N.” Nancy now steps in, her hands held up as if you’re some rabid dog she wants to calm down. “We just figured we’d help Joyce and Hopper.”

“‘We’? Are you fucking kidding me? You two talked about this, had an entire conversation, and still somehow came to the conclusion that ditching me was a great fucking idea?” You scoff, deeply hurt by the fact that the two of them had an entire conversation without thinking to include you in it.

“Bug, can we talk about this one on one?” Jonathan asks, his voice lowered. You can see the genuine upset in his eyes and for a moment your grip on him lessens, but then you see Nancy behind him and your anger only returns.

“No, we can discuss this right here.”

He sighs and tries to grab the hand not clutching his coat, but you slap it away. “Bug–”

“You’ve lost that privilege.”

“Bug–I mean, Y/N,” His voice falters. “Look, my mom and Hopper are out there right now trying to find Will while that monster is still out. Nance and I… We want to finish what we started.”

“Without me?” You don’t mean for it to happen, but your voice catches at the end.

Jonathan’s gaze softens and this time he succeeds in grabbing your hand. You let go of him and allow him to pull you in, weak against him as always. “I’m doing this to protect them, to protect you, Y/N. I’m always trying to protect you. You know that, right?”

You used to think that you did, but now? You’re not so sure, and it terrifies you.

Nancy has stepped away from the conversation, now kicking at rocks while you’re with Jonathan, and you can’t help but think about how wrong all of this feels.

Throughout this entire week it’s felt like someone has given you a photo of Jonathan, smeared its lines and edges, removed his moles and his crooked smile and made it neater, altered so that if you squint you can see the boy you grew up with underneath it all… But it’s fuzzy, almost too unclear to really see.

Now he’s standing in front of you, his smile once more crooked and cunning and his moles faded underneath the moonlight and for a second you can see him. There he is, clear and untouched and him in a way that’s never quite been yours.

“I know,” you tell him. “But how many more times do you expect me to forgive you for lying and ditching me? If you want to protect me, you need to talk to me.”

Jonathan winces. “I know, I know it sounds stupid and I know I’ve fucked up more than enough this week, I just get caught up in wanting to make sure you’re safe. It’d kill me if I let anything happen to you… I just, I can’t lose you, bug.”

“So pushing me away is your grand plan of keeping me?”

“I’ve always been an idiot.” He manages a smile, and you can’t help but laugh.

“That’s true, but if you attempt to ditch me one more time I swear to god I’ll pour tar all over your car.”

The boy laughs and for a brief moment everything feels okay again, but it doesn’t last very long. “In our defense, we figured you’d be better off with the kids since you’re not really a fighter, ya know?”

You drop his hand. “Excuse me?”

Jonathan’s smile is gone. “What?”

“I’m not really a fighter? You’re kidding, right?”

“Hey, no I didn’t mean it like that–” Jonathan fumbles over his words, clearly taken aback by your sudden mood change.

You step away from him. “How many times did I defend you against Lonnie? Better yet, remind me how we became friends in the first place. Wasn’t it because I threw milk at a bunch of idiots bullying you? Huh?”

“Y/N–”

“God, I can’t believe I almost let you get away with it again! I mean, do you even hear the bullshit that comes out of your mouth?” You deepen your voice, now doing a poor impersonation of him. “‘Hey, bug! You know I love you, right? Cool! Now, I’m gonna go do fuck all and ignore you and ditch you and then somehow turn it into me being a good guy because duh! I can never do any wrong!’”

“Please, just–”

“Did I get it right? It was a pretty good impersonation in my opinion. I mean, I am the one who has had to deal with this shit all fucking week. I think I'm an expert on this topic now.”

Jonathan looks pained but you don’t fucking care anymore. You’ve reached your limit, you’re sick and tired of being treated like some delicate creature that’s incapable of taking care of itself. You literally slapped Tommy Hagan this afternoon in order to help Jonathan, yet here he is basically calling you weak.

And yet Nancy is the fighter. She’s the one who gets to go along on the adventure while you’re sidelined because for some damn reason you’re always the second option. Never taking matters into your own hands, always the one left behind to clean up the mess and take care of those also discarded.

You’re sick of it.

You step closer to Jonathan again, so that you’re nose to nose, and whisper, “I’m tired of never being good enough.”

And with that, you reach into his coat and snatch up his keys, a game you’ve always played with him but now has turned into a bitter taste in your mouth, and run back into the gym. Someone has to inform the kids of the plan, make sure they’ll be okay on their own.

Dustin sees you approach and smiles, but when he notices the angry pace in your steps, he frowns. “Uh oh.”

“Yeah, uh oh.”

“Jonathan again?”

You nod, still too angry to trust your words. “Yeah.”

He notices the keys in your hand. “Where are you going?”

Mike and Lucas look over now, curious as to what’s happening.

You sigh. “I’m going with Nancy and Jonathan to the Byers house, we’re going to kill the monster.”

“Why the hell are you going?” Dustin exclaims while Mike shoutes “sick!” and Lucas mumbles “great, alone again”. El remains quiet, still resting.

You flick your brother’s hat. “I have to, Dustin.”

“For Jonathan?” He shakes his head. “I like him, but aren’t you mad at him right now?”

“Is it just me, or is she always mad at him these days?” Mike whispers over to Lucas, who simply shrugs.

“Girls, man.”

You ignore them and focus on Dustin. “It doesn’t matter. He needs my help, and no one in the party gets left behind. Remember?”

“Y/N–”

“I love you,” you kiss the top of his head. “I promise I’ll be safe, just be careful, okay? I’m putting you in charge, so don’t let me down. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll see you in a few hours tops!”

Dustin tries to argue some more, but you quickly run back outside before he can get another word in. You feel horrible leaving him behind, but you know this is the right decision. If you can kill the monster, there’s less of a chance of the kids or Joyce and Hopper getting hurt. Jonathan and Nancy may be fine on their own, but there’s always power in numbers and they’ll need all the help they can get.

You just… you have to help. You know this is what you’re supposed to be doing, even if it pains you to do so. Dustin and the kids are smart; as long as they stay at the school, they’ll be fine.

In theory, that is.

Nancy and Jonathan are waiting for you outside. You push past them and march towards Jonathan’s care; they awkwardly follow after you. You unlock it, throw yourself into the backseat, and promptly dig through your backpack to make sure you have everything.

The two teens get in a few minutes after you. Not one word is spoken as Jonathan starts the car and the three of you drive off, leaving Hawkins Middle behind.

–

You thought the car ride with Nancy and Jonathan from the funeral home had been tense, but this one? Downright painful.

Jonathan has a tight grip on the steering wheel and keeps trying to catch your eye through the rearview mirror but you avoid his gaze. You’ve spent the last five minutes arranging and rearranging your backpack to give you something to do while Nancy has tried three times to make conversation to make this car ride bearable.

“El seems nice.”

“You said four words to her, Nancy.” You retort, switching open your switchblade once more to watch the moonlight dance off of its blades.

“Right.”

Nancy shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat. You know she realizes she’s once again upset the balance in your relationship with Jonathan. It was only an hour ago that she tried getting you to admit your feelings for him before convincing the boy to up and leave you. Sure, Jonathan made his own decision in the end, but damn. She could’ve at least pretended to want you around.

She notices your knives and tries to spark conversation again. “I love the color of the handle, it’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you switch the blades closed and sit up in your seat. “Anyways, you geniuses have a plan or were you just counting on ditching me and winging it from there?”

“Y/N–”

“No, Nancy. I insist, let’s talk about a plan. We’re here to kill a monster, right?”

She closes her mouth and frowns, turning to Jonathan for help, but he’s no use. He’s busy tapping his fingers against the wheel and praying that the world will just swallow him up whole. Too bad for him you’re a stubborn pain in the ass and would simply pluck him back up so you can torture him some more.

Nancy sighs. “Well, Jonathan and I were thinking we use the supplies we got earlier and lure the monster to his place, then we kill it.”

“Awesome plan, guys!” You say, your voice dripping with sickly sweetness that leaves them both feeling even more uncomfortable. “But may I suggest some actual details or shall we just bank off of this wonderfully dull and vague plan?”

“Sure, Y/N. Tell us what you had in mind.” Nancy rubs her face tiredly, knowing she deserves this.

“Great! I’m assuming we’re luring the monster with blood?” They nod at you, so you continue. “Okay, so before we lure it I think we should completely booby-trap Jonathan’s house. Nail the bear trap down onto the floor, make sure the floor is cleared of anything that could trip us up. Then, once we’ve got the house secured, we knick ourselves to draw some blood and pray to whatever god is up there that we can kill the thing.”

You pause for a moment, remembering how all the Christmas lights had been unscrewed by Joyce earlier. “The lights, we need to fix them. The monster communicates through the lights so if we have them, then we can track it.”

“That all sounds great, bug.” Jonathan finally speaks up, ass kissing.

“Thanks, pal. Still don’t have the bug privilege back, but I’m sure you simply forgot.”

He gulps, once more going back to being silent as he drives you and Nancy to his house.

Nancy again tries to diffuse the tension. “How do we even kill the monster though? I mean, will my bullets be enough?”

“I have this idea, but it’s… well, it’s out there.” You bite your lip, now feeling your cocky demeanor slipping. “If we can safely set fire to it, I think that’s our best bet.”

“Fire?” Jonathan exclaims, but Nancy shushes him.

“I think you’re right.”

“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me but do we really have to set fire to my house–”

Now it’s your turn to shush Jonathan. “This isn’t about that. I wouldn’t burn your house down, I already told you I’d just pour tar on your car whenever I get the chance. For now, I really do think the best thing to do is burn the monster alive. In every horror movie and book, fire always gets the job done.”

Despite herself, Nancy lets out a soft chuckle as Jonathan parks the car, now at his house. “She’s right, Jonathan. And who burns down houses these days? Tar really is the best form of revenge.”

“I’m flattered, Wheeler. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be off my shitlist in no time.” You tell her, patting her on the shoulder before getting out of the car. You quickly open up the trunk and gather the monster hunting supplies while Jonathan and Nancy take their time getting out.

You let yourself into the Byers home using your own key to the place. It’s been nestled in between the key to your house and the spare key to Jonathan’s car on your keychain for a few years now.

The first thing you get started on are the lights. There’s hundreds of them to get through, but you drop your supplies and begin screwing them in one by one. Nancy and Jonathan come in soon after and silently begin to help.

No conversation is made besides the necessary comments about the prep work. You’re all too focused on the possibility of what could happen next; the danger of the situation has finally set in. After the lights have all been fixed, you instruct Jonathan to begin nailing the bear trap down while you and Nancy discuss where to pour the gasoline. You both agree to make a path from the living room to Will’s room.

As Nancy pours the gasoline, you follow behind her and pick up any flammables. You weren't lying to Jonathan earlier, you really don’t want to burn his house down. While the house is wrecked, it’s still a home despite everything that’s happened in it. You practically grew up within its walls, you’d do anything to keep it as protected as possible.

When you’re done, you watch Nancy load her gun. A shiver runs down our spine; she looks at ease with it, which you figure should be reassuring, but the gravity of everything leaves you feeling on edge. You leave her alone and walk into the kitchen where Jonathan is, now hammering a ton of nails into his bat.

You begin to sharpen your blades next to him, still finding that you only feel secure by his side. The rhythmic sound of his hammering calms you, in a sense. It serves as a distraction. You know you insisted on coming, you don’t regret it and you know you’re stronger than everyone seems to give you credit for, but you’re also terrified. This isn’t just some adventure in the woods; this could kill the ones you love dearly.

Once you’re both done preparing your weapons, the two of you walk to Will’s room and rig up a simple snare. Jonathan grabs a yo-yo and you pull up a chair to set it on. The idea is that when the string gets pulled, it’ll alert you that the monster has sprung the bear trap. It’s not the most efficient warning system, but it’ll have to do.

The last thing to do is set the bear trap, which takes all three of you to achieve. Jonathan and Nancy hold down the edges with their body weight and you very carefully set the trap with your hand. You shake a bit as you do so, but you force your nerves down. You remind yourself that Jonathan thinks you’re too weak, too cowardly, you have to prove him wrong.

When the bear trap clicks into place, you let out a harsh exhale and sink against the wall, your heart still pounding. Jonathan and Nancy copy you and the three of you sit in silence. You’re still shaking a bit, and Jonathan is next to you just as tense, but for the first time since you’ve met him you can’t reach out to grab his hand to steady yourself. He’s too far, both literally and figuratively. Even with him next to you, you couldn’t be more far apart.

In the back of your mind, you hope the kids are alright. Hopefully they’re having a better night than you currently are.

“C’mon,” you say after a few minutes, getting up to walk over to the living room. “We’ve done all we can, now we just have to draw some blood and be the prettiest bait in Hawkins.”

–

Nancy and Jonathan decide to cut the palm of their hands, but you respectfully would rather die than have a matching scar with them. The idea makes you so uncomfortable you visibly cringe when Jonathan tells you the idea. “Yeah, no thanks. I think I’ll find somewhere else to cut.”

He looks hurt by what you’ve said but doesn’t voice it. Instead, the three of you stand in the living room in a triangle facing each other and he begins reciting the plan. “Remember…”

Nancy goes first. “Straight into Will’s room and–”

“Don’t step on the trap.” You finish.

Jonathan nods. “And then?”

“Wait for the yo-yo to move.” The girl says.

“Then…” Jonathan flicks the lighter on.

You whistle low. “Let there be light…”

“Right. Light.” The boy nods again. “Alright, we ready?”

“Ready.”

“Scar time.”

Jonathan and Nancy bring their hands up and place their knives flat against their palms. You roll up your sleeve and place your own knife against the upper part of your arm, just below your shoulder, and take a deep breath.

“On three,” Jonathan says. He begins counting and you all can’t seem to stop shaking. He senses your unease and looks up at you and Nancy. “You guys don’t have to do this.”

Nancy glares at him, her own voice shaky. “Jonathan, stop talking.”

You nod. “Yeah, what she said.”

Jonathan tries to argue, but Nancy squeezes her eyes shut and yells, “Three!”

You close your own eyes and slice at your arm, the pain immediate. You gasp out, never having been good with pain, but you know you have to do this for Will. The blood trails down your arm, dripping from your elbow onto the ground, and you watch as blood from Jonathan’s and Nancy’s own cuts falls onto the ground too.

Well, at least it’ll be an easy scar to hide compared to theirs.

“Fuck, that stings.” You say to break the silence, and Nancy nods her head in agreement.

“Not the most pleasant feeling.”

Jonathan guides the two of you over to the couch and grabs the first aid kit that you had prepared on the coffee table. He sits in the middle, leaving room for both you and Nancy on each side of him, but you’re still pissed at him and opt to sit on the floor in front of the couch.

Nancy begins to patch up his wound, and it takes everything within you not to reach over and help him yourself. It feels unnatural to watch someone else taking care of him, but the space between you still feels too vast to cross.

You patch up your own cut while the two of them talk quietly. You wind a bandage tight around your arm, ensuring you won’t bleed through, and Jonathan watches above you with guilt in his eyes. Nancy is trying to reassure him that everything will be okay, but as he watches you struggle to tie the bandage he wonders if he’s fucked up more than just your friendship.

“Bug, let me help with that.” He leans down and ties your bandage before you can stop him.

You glare at him, still having not said anything to Jonathan besides what was needed for preparation. Nancy distracts herself by cleaning up around his cut and your stomach twists into knots. This is all so miserable.

“Y/N, I know you’re upset with me and you can go whenever. I won’t blame you, you’ve done enough for me.” Jonathan says, trying to catch your eye.

You turn away and inspect your bandage, still reeling over the fact that he tied it for you. “I’m here for Will, and only Will.”

“Y/N…” There’s a hurt in his voice that almost makes you turn around to throw your arms around his neck and whisper a million apologies to him. To tell him everything, that you love him and that you’d do anything for him and that’s why you’re so terrified of how you feel. You know you’d burn yourself up if it meant he’d be taken care of, if it meant he was safe and happy and far away from anything that could harm him. You know you’d use up everything within you to love him.

Instead, you remain silent.

After getting no response from you, Jonathan clears his throat and begins to say something about how the lights will serve as an alarm for the monster, trying to pretend that everything is okay, but he’s cut off by a sudden pounding on the door.

You all jump and your fingers tighten around your switchblade, ready to open it. As your heart pounds you think of all the possible ways the plan could go wrong. When you’re on possibility number twelve, a voice calls through the door.

“Jonathan?”

“Is that… Steve?” You say out loud, in complete disbelief.

Steve continues to pound on the door. “Are you there, man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk!”

You’re the first to react, standing up to run over to the door. You fling it open and step outside, making sure Steve won’t be able to see inside the house. When he sees you, he stumbles back a bit. “Henderson?”

His face is still bleeding from earlier and his hair is a mess, and yet there’s a softness to him that you haven’t seen before with him. “Steve, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Can I just talk to Jonathan real quick? I just… I want to apologize about what happened earlier, see if we can maybe–” His eyes land on your bandaged arm. You curse and roll down your sleeve, feeling like an idiot for forgetting to hide the wound before going outside.

Steve reaches out to touch it, a hint of worry on his face and his voice is now full of concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

You shiver at his touch, it’s gentle as he skims along the bandage and inspects it for any other problems. You pull away, now hiding the wound. “It’s nothing, but you should really go.”

“I want to help you, Y/N. Do you need me to get you anything?” His face is so full of worry for you that it makes you ache. Then a thought occurs to him. “Wait, where’s Byers? Why isn’t he here to help you?”

You’re about to make up a lie, but Nancy flings the door open. “Steve, listen to me.”

He looks between the two of you in complete shock. “Okay, what–”

“You need to leave.” Nancy orders.

Steve looks at you. “I’m not trying to start anything, okay?”

“I know, but–” You get cut off by Nancy.

“I don’t care about that. You need to leave.”

Steve begins to plead with the girl and you step away a bit, not wanting to intrude. You feel bad for him, he looks so beat down by what’s happened today and you suppose that you can’t really blame him. After spending maybe a total of ten hours with Nancy and Jonathan, you also have come close to losing your mind.

If you were with Jonathan, if you truly had him, you’d react the same as Steve. Begging for the girl he loves to listen to him, to give him another chance with the promise of him changing.

“I just want to make things right.” Steve says, impressing you with his vulnerability. He’s openly admitting to his mistakes and taking accountability mere hours after the situation has occurred, leaving you both in awe of him and also saddened for him. He loves Nancy more than anything, you can hear it in his voice.

He deserves better.

As you’re thinking this, you see his eyes flicker down towards Nancy’s bandaged hand and his brows furrow. “What happened to your hand? Is that blood?” His eyes now flicker over to you again. “Why are you both hurt?”

“We’re clumsy?” You say as Nancy yanks her hand away from Steve.

“It was an accident.” She agrees.

Steve looks between the two of you, now sensing that something else is wrong. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Nancy insists, but something in Steve’s demeanor shifts.

“Wait a second, did he do this to you? To Y/N?” His once soft voice is now filled with anger and you step in front of him.

“Steve, it wasn’t Jonathan. You need to go, I promise I’ll explain everything later–”

He grabs you by your side and gently moves you so that he can get past and shove through the door. Nancy yells at him to stop and tries to push him out, but she’s useless against his strength. When he manages to break in, he stumbles inside and scans over the house.

“Shit!” You follow after him, your brain running a million miles a second trying to figure out how to explain everything to him.

“What the fuck?” Steve mumbles, eyeing the bat with nails in it. “Y/N, what’s going on here?”

He’s looking to you for reassurance and you guess he assumes that the two of you are allies in this Jonathan and Nancy situation. You really wish you could explain, but Jonathan has grabbed him by the shoulders and is trying to push him outside. The two stumble around for a few seconds and you just helplessly watch.

“Steve, there’s no time to explain, please just listen to Jonathan and get out of here!” You’re helping Jonathan now, trying to get Steve out the door and away from harm’s reach, but he’s still fighting back confused and lost as ever and you pity him.

You hear a click and turn around, gasping when you see Nancy holding her gun up to Steve. “Woah, what the fuck Nancy?”

“What! What is going on?” Steve yells, now more panicked than anything else.

While Jonathan has stepped away, you find yourself standing in front of Steve as if to somehow block the bullet. You can’t let him get hurt, he doesn’t have any part of this, he can still have a normal and happy life if he just leaves now. “Nancy, put the fucking gun down, this isn’t helping!”

Steve pleads with her as well and the two of you scream at the girl to just listen and not swing around loaded weapons, but Nancy remains firm in her stance. “You have five seconds to get out of here. I’m doing this for you.”

“Because holding a gun to his head is any better than telling him the truth?” You exclaim, entirely over the situation.

As the four of you are arguing, the lights begin to flicker. Steve and Nancy don’t seem to notice, but you do. You look at Jonathan and say your first real words to him in hours. “Jonathan…”

He hears you and he runs over to your side, grabbing your hand as the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder. You feel your heartbeat race and you can feel him shaking beside you. He’s terrified, so are you, but his hand around yours manages to steady you.

“Nancy!” Jonathan tries to get the girl’s attention, but she’s too busy counting down to hear him.

He shouts at her again and the lights start to flicker more wildly and you draw your switchblade out, adrenaline coursing through you. It’s time.

Jonathan yells once more and finally catches Nancy’s attention. “The lights!”

She whips her head around and curses, Jonathan, still tightly holding your hand, tugs you along so that you follow him as he secures his weapons and grabs the bat. “It’s here.”

“What’s here?” Steve is flailing around, utterly lost.

You all ignore him and now stand back to back in a triangle. Nancy holds up her gun, Jonathan wields his bat, and you flick your wrist to bring out your knives. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know!”

The lights flicker rapidly and you feel overwhelmed. They were supposed to serve as a guide towards the monster, but there's no possible way to see which direction it’ll come from and for a fleeting moment you think you’ve made a huge mistake.

Steve is still screaming, demanding answers, but you’re too busy scanning your surroundings to offer him some information. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going–”

The roof opens up, cutting Steve off, and you scream as the monster attempts to come down right above you. Jonathan shields you from the fallen debris and you cling onto him in utter fear. This isn’t real. This cannot be happening.

Nancy begins to shoot at the thing while Jonathan guides you to safety. He brings you to the edge of the living room and holds your face in his hands, forcing you to really look at him for the first time all night. “Listen to me, stay here while I get Nancy.”

He kisses your forehead and then leaves, rushing over to Nancy to pull her away and guide her towards Will’s room. Steve stands next to you, frozen, and it forces you back to reality. The plan, you have to stick to the plan.

You grab Steve’s hand and yank him so that he follows. The monster has dropped down now, a horrible creature on all fours that opens its gaping mouth to let out a horrible screech that you feel deep within your bones. This is what killed Barb.

The four of you run to Will’s room and you only just barely have enough time to warn Steve about the bear trap. You look over your shoulder and shout, “Jump!” right as your ankle catches on its chains.

You fall. Hard.

Pain sears through your ankle and you try to get up, but any pressure on it sends flames through your entire body and you let out another scream. The monster catches up, looming over you, and you brace for your death. There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of this.

You squeeze your eyes as the monster stalks close to you, its ugly mouth open and ready to kill you. Jonathan is screaming at you to get up, but Nancy is holding him back from helping. You’re relieved by this, knowing that someone has to be there for Will once this is all done. He’ll need his brother, and Nancy seems to understand this. You catch her eye and nod at her, sending a silent thank you.

“Bug! No, let go of me! I have to help her, Nancy!” Jonathan’s voice becomes hoarse by how loud he screams, his voice breaking with fear and desperation.

Then, right before the monster lunges at you, you feel a familiar pair of arms slide underneath your legs and pick you up. “What–”

Steve Harrington has swooped in to save you, picking you up as if you weigh nothing, ever the athlete, and swiftly jumps over the bear trap while screaming his head off. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

You’re so delirious from the pain in your ankle and the adrenaline pumping through your veins that you can’t help but let a laugh escape you. No fucking way is any of this real. Steve Harrington is carrying you bridal style into Will’s bedroom with Jonathan and Nancy as witnesses.

What a life.

Once you’re both secured in the room, Steve sets you down gently right as Nancy yells at him to shut up. As soon as Steve lets go of you, Jonathan is at your side and pulls you into a crushing hug.

“Bug.” He breathes out against your ear, relief heavy.

“I’m okay.” You tell him, threading your fingers through his hair. He’s shaking harder than ever, and holding onto you as if he’s scared he’ll lose you again. “I’m okay, bee.”

He pulls away and his hands are all over you, checking everywhere for any other injuries. “Did it hurt you, are you bleeding? There should be a first aid kit–”

You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, which seems to calm him down a bit. “I’m fine, just twisted my ankle. If you help me up, I’m sure I’ll be able to stand again.”

Jonathan quickly helps you to your feet and you lean against him for the extra support. While you put on a brave face for Jonathan, you’re terrified out of your fucking mind. You almost died. Jonathan is still holding your hand and he’s looking at you as if seeing you for the first time and you force yourself to look away. It’s the same look from the field days ago, when you thought he’d kiss you.

You have to focus on what’s at stake.

How the hell are you guys supposed to kill this thing?

The monster screeches, breaking the moment between you and Jonathan, and he flicks his lighter on and forces you to stand behind him. Nancy holds up her gun and you bring your knives closer to your face, Steve standing weaponless behind you.

You all wait, tense, for the monster. It stalks closer to the room, its awful growls alerting you of its proximity, but it doesn’t appear.

“What’s it doing?” Nancy asks, frustrated.

“I don’t know.” You respond, equally as frustrated and scared.

Another few agonizing seconds pass, and you stare at the yo-yo and hope that it remains still. Then, the lights stop flickering and it becomes quiet. All you can hear is your blood roaring in your ears.

Nancy looks around. “Do you hear anything?”

“No,” Jonathan shakes his head, inching closer to the door.

“Wait!” You tug at your still interlocked hands. You pick up his bat that had been thrown on the ground and hand it to him. “Be careful. Please.”

He gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go, accepting the bat.

As Jonathan pokes his head out to see if the monster is outside, Steve bends his head down and whispers in your ear, “Romantic.”

“Shut. Up.” You hit him in the chest, fearfully watching your best friend to make sure he doesn't die. When he motions an all clear, Nancy follows him outside, then you, then Steve.

The house is silent and your heart sinks when you see that the bear trap has been left untouched. You realize with a horrible gut wrench that the monster is smarter than the three of you had anticipated.

So much for your plan, then.

“It’s smarter than we thought.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees with dismay.

He stalks against the wall towards the living room and you all follow in a single file line. You do your best to stick close to the wall but you limp with every step. Your ankle is definitely out of commission for now. Great.

All of you are on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It couldn’t have been that easy, there’s no possible way that the monster simply up and left. You enter the living room, which has gotten even more wrecked due the monster. The wallpaper has been torn off of some parts of the wall and you see papers scattered everywhere.

“Shit…” you mumble, kicking at a shredded wallpaper strip.

In the corner, Steve has started to hyperventilate and mumble to himself. “This is crazy, this is so crazy, this is fucking crazy.”

You limp over to him and grab his shoulders, making him face you. “Steve, hey. It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Y/N, what the hell just happened?”

“It’s… complicated. For now, can you trust me that everything will be okay?”

“Of course I trust you, it’s just…” He nods, his eyes softening. You lessen your hold on him and give him a smile, he seems to be calming down. Then, he looks around the room and seemingly remembers where he is. “This is crazy!”

Steve lunges for the phone on the wall and tries to call for help.

You stumble after him, the pain in your ankle slowing you down. “Steve, wait–”

Nancy gets to him first, grabbing the phone out of his hand and throwing it across the room. He looks at her, shocked. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“It’s going to come back!” Nancy yells at him, and you wince at the way she treats him. You know Steve will only listen to her, but she could at least be nicer about the whole situation. The three of you have had some time to process everything happening, Steve was thrown into the deep end.

“You could be a little nicer,” you mumble, and Nancy sends you a glare. You raise your hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

“Steve, you need to leave. Right now.”

He looks so overwhelmed and you give him a pitying look. He stares at you, reminiscent of the way he looked at you earlier in the alley, silently begging you to say something, anything, but again you can only shake your head at him. You won’t force him to stay, it wouldn’t be fair.

“Y/N, please…” He tries one more time to get you on his side, but you can’t. Frustrated by your lack of response, Steve groans. “Fuck it!”

He runs out the door.

You’ll admit that you’re a bit disappointed, but you also understand. Who in their right mind would stay?

You and Nancy share a look before the lights begin to flicker again. Dread fills you. “Fuck…”

Jonathan is back by your side and he and Nancy again form a triangle with you, all your backs pressed together as you desperately try to locate the monster. You all stumble in a circle, searching for any sign of the thing, but there’s nothing.

“Where is it?” Nancy gasps out.

“Just fucking show yourself!” You shout, just wanting this all to be over with. Your body is drained from living in a state of fear for so long.

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Jonathan echoes your taunts.

Suddenly the lights turn off and you’re left alone in complete darkness. Faintly you can hear the monster’s familiar growl approaching from behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, the air stands still. It’s back. Before you can react, it pounces on Jonathan.

“Jonathan!” You scream alongside Nancy. Desperation takes over you and before you can even process what’s happening, you ignore the pain in your ankle and jump onto its back, stabbing repeatedly at it.

Your blades only bounce off of its thick skin and the monster struggles to get you off. You hold on as tight as you can, shouting and kicking at it so that it can’t hurt him, but then it opens its mouth and for a horrifying moment you’re afraid that Jonathan will die.

“No!” You scream even louder than before and double down on your effort, stabbing and slashing as much as you possibly can to try and create some damage, but your arms are starting to ache and your ankle now feels like it’s on fire.

“Nancy, its skin is too thick!” You sob out, nearing complete exhaustion. Then, just as you’re about to collapse from exhaustion, gunshots fill the room.

Nancy begins to shoot at the monster and with the help of your blades, the two of you manage to pierce its skin, but even then the damage is minimal. It’s not enough, it won’t be enough. Tears stream down your face and the monster only gets closer to Jonathan, so you do the only thing you can think of: you crawl onto the top of its body and stab at its mouth.

The monster lets out a blood curdling scream and flings you off of its back. You go flying across the room and land against the wall with a groan. All the air has been knocked out of you and your ribs are definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. Every part of you aches, but you manage to lift your head up and blearily process the monster now approaching Nancy as she continues to shoot at it, but it remains unphased.

You crawl over to Jonathan, who is still laying on the ground. He’s motionless, and you fight everything within you not to break down and sob. You have to keep going, he has to be alive. As you reach Jonathan and frantically check for a pulse, the monster has now cornered Nancy and her gun seems to be out of bullets.

It’s over. You know it is.

Right as you’ve accepted your fate, a screaming Steve Harrington wielding Jonathan’s bat once again manages to save the day.

He hits the monster with the bat, effectively saving Nancy and you’re so impressed with his batting skills that you almost find him attractive with how easily he hits and dodges the monster. However, you file those thoughts away for later and finally manage to wake Jonathan up. He startles with a gasp and you check over his chest, scared he may have gotten pierced by the monster’s claws.

“I’m fine, we need to help.”

You help each other up and you have to lean heavily against him due to your ankle. You bull riding the monster has only made the sprain worse; you’re too afraid to look down and see the damage that’s been done.

As the two of you hobble over to Nancy, Jonathan looks at you. “Is Harrington really here right now?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.”

Steve manages to lure the monster closer and closer to the bear trap and you watch him in awe. He’s quick footed and so sure of himself, the complete opposite of the boy from only ten minutes ago who had run out of the house screaming his head off. Now, Steve is swift with his hits and even twirls the bat in his hand to show off. The small act causes you to smile despite the horrible circumstances.

By the time you and Jonathan are up and recovered, Steve has successfully led the monster straight into the trap. It clamps around the monster’s foot and it screeches, flailing around in the trap. Steve still has his bat held up, now frantically looking over to everyone else. “He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!”

“Jonathan, now!” Nancy screams, motioning over at him to use his lighter.

Jonathan listens, using his free hand to flick the lighter on and then drops it onto the ground, right into the trail of gasoline. Immediately the monster goes up in flames, letting out horrible noises. You all shield your faces from the flames and Jonathan pulls you closer into him, still having yet to let go of you; you feel yourself sink into his side as you watch the monster wither away.

“Bug, I have to get the fire extinguisher, do you think you can stand on your own?” Jonathan asks you, his voice soft but urgent.

You quickly nod and brace yourself for his departure. “Yeah, go.”

He lets go of you as gently as possible before running to grab the extinguisher. When he has it, he orders everyone to get back and then smothers the flames. It takes a couple seconds, but eventually the fire gets put out, leaving behind an awful stench that makes everyone cough and gag.

“Holy fuck,” you wheeze out, hunched over. “Burnt monster smells horrible.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve coughs out.

Nancy covers her face with her jacket. “Where did it go?”

“It has to be dead.” Jonathan pants against the wall, looking like he’s three seconds away from passing out. “It has to be.”

“It fucking better be dead.” You mumble, hobbling closer to see what exactly was left behind. When you get closer and see the giant lump of melted skin all over the bear trap, you gag. “Oh god. Yeah, okay. It’s dead.”

Everyone sighs with relief.

Then, you notice a Christmas light above you flicker on. Your heart stops, terrified that the monster has somehow survived, but then a second one turns on, then a third, until a path seems to be guiding you towards the living room.

You all follow, cautious but curious, but these lights don’t feel threatening. There’s an energy to them, a comforting one that leaves you breathless. When you get to the living room, tears form in your eyes, now understanding what this all is. You look at Jonathan, who also seems to be thinking what you are.

It’s Joyce, you know it is.

“Mom,” he breathes out.

You limp over to him and grab his hand. He turns to you, his eyes shining with an appreciation that he only ever has for you. He seems to be drinking you in, as if now realizing just how close the two of you came to dying tonight. You’re doing the same, thankful that he’s alive and standing next to you despite everything. There’s so much the two of you want to say, but as always the words aren’t needed. You understand each other perfectly, the balance between you centered once more.

You put your head on Jonathan’s shoulder and he brings his hand to your hair to softly stroke it. The two of you stand like that for a second, breathing each other in and enjoying the tenderness after such a miserable day, before you slowly break apart and follow the lights going outside.

The porch light flickers and Nancy stands next to you, watching it with uncertainty. “Where’s it going?”

“I don’t think it’s the monster.” Jonathan tells her.

“It’s Will.” You don’t know how you know this, or what makes you feel so certain that you’re right, but somehow you know that you are. Somewhere deep within you, you feel the faint outline of hope flicker.

A new silence surrounds the four of you at your words, and for once there’s hope between you all. Then, after a minute or so of silence, everyone begins to head back inside. Steve first, then Nancy, and finally Jonathan, leaving you alone with the crisp early winter air.

You take a deep breath, the cold air serving as a reminder that you’re alive. You let it fill your lungs until you can’t breathe in anymore, then you release the air through an exhale and feel your body settle into its exhaustion. This is the first time you’ve had a moment to yourself, so you let the exhaustion weigh upon you like a warm blanket.

Will is safe, you can feel it. Despite everything, he’s safe and alive. Jonathan is too, still your best friend regardless of all the unspoken words between the two of you. Dustin is at the school with the kids, away from danger. Everything is okay, it’ll be okay.

You let the moment wash over you, incredibly grateful to be lucky enough to have survived it all. Everyone you love and hold close to you is safe. You didn’t fuck up this time. God, you did it.

Jonathan comes running out after a while, his face alight with joy and he crashes into you and picks you up to twirl you around. You laugh, loud and freely, and bury your face in his hair as he continues. “Bee, stop! Put me down, you dummy!”

He does as he’s told, but doesn’t let go of you once your feet are on the ground. “My mom just called, they saved Will. He–he’s in the hospital, he’s okay.”

You squeal and throw your arms around Jonathan again, squeezing him so hard that you’re afraid you'll hurt him, but he simply laughs and squeezes you just as tight. Tears come again, but this time they’re happy ones, and if it weren’t for your ankle you’d be jumping up and down right now.

Jonathan’s laughter dies down and he cups your chin around his fingers so that you look up at him. “You did it.”

“We did it, bug.” You softly push against him. You can’t take all the credit.

His eyes are shining again, you haven’t seen him this happy in so long, you get lost in it. His face is lit up and his smile is back and you’re so in love with him that it claws against your throat and threatens to spill out in excess.

A beat of silence passes and Jonathan just soaks your presence in. You can’t quite read his face, but for once this doesn’t frighten you. You enjoy it, you relish in the fact that he’s still yours yet now forming into someone new and lovely and wonderful.

“You never gave up.” He whispers at last, adoration in his voice.

“Never.”

“You never left me.”

“Never.” You breathe out, the word so simple with such heavy weight behind it.

The moment is so raw, so tender, and Jonathan is giving you that look again, the one that leaves you feeling like the sun itself has settled upon you and kissed your cheek. His eyes flick down to your lips and you smile, taunting him to lean in. He seems to understand, giving you his own teasing smile before leaning in. You lean in as well, every part of you buzzing, and right before your lips touch his, Steve bursts through the door.

“Jonathan, dude, do you have like, any food in the house?” He asks, completely oblivious to what he’s just interrupted.

You and Jonathan break apart, laughing the tension away. He ducks his head down, clears his throat, and turns to Steve. “Sorry, man. Been a little busy this week for grocery shopping.”

Steve’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Oh shit, right. Sorry, okay. Uh… Well, I’ll be inside, I guess.”

“We’ll be in shortly.” You tell Steve. You want to be frustrated by his timing, but something tells you that you’ll have all the time in the world to tell Jonathan how you feel. Now just isn’t the time.

–

The moment you arrive at the hospital, Jonathan sprints out of the car and straight towards the front desk to find out where Will is. You and Nancy follow behind, figuring you won’t be able to see Will for a while since you’re not blood related, so the two of you wish Jonathan goodbye and head towards the waiting room.

Steve lags behind, obviously unsure where to go. Nancy immediately walks inside, but you notice his hesitation and nudge his shoulder. “I’m sure that the cut on your eyebrow needs to be looked out. Let’s go sit, okay?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah, sure. Totally. Let’s go sit in a room full of people who probably hate me. No biggie.”

“Either come or don’t.” You shrug. “But the way I see it, you can start mending some metaphorical wounds while you wait in there.”

You don’t wait for Steve to figure out what to do, you know that Dustin is somewhere inside the waiting room and you’re buzzing to see him and the rest of the kids. You hobble inside, still very much in pain due to your injuries, but the moment you see your brother it all fades away.

He runs into your arms and almost knocks you down with the force. Dustin clings onto you, mumbling over and over again how sorry he is.

“Hey, wait a second,” you pull him away and crouch down, groaning a bit at the pain. “What are you sorry about? What happened?”

You look around the room and see everyone there. Nancy, Hopper, the kids, Steve, even Nancy’s parents, but there’s someone missing…

“El,” you breathe out.

Dustin’s lip trembles and he begins to cry. You soothe him, grabbing his hand to bring him over to the seats and sit between him and Mike. Lucas is to the left of Dustin and you can’t help but notice how all the boys have dried tears in their eyes.

When they’re ready, you have the kids explain what happened, and the more they tell you, the more guilty you feel. You should’ve been there for them, you left them all alone with that monster. You got Will back, and yet you’ve lost El as a result. It seems that no matter what you do, it’ll never quite be enough in the end.

“It’s not your fault.” You tell Dustin, who still keeps apologizing. It was you who had left him in charge, you’re why El ended up vanquished by the monster. “You did everything you could. I shouldn’t have left you guys all alone, but I’m proud that you all took care of one another, okay?”

He sniffs and nods his head, but you know he doesn’t believe you. All the boys are somber; you know it’ll take time for them to recover. So, you do what you do best, you console them. You hold their hands and rub their backs and offer your spare comics in your bag. You do whatever you can to comfort them, to reassure them that they’re safe now and that no one will hurt them, but the light in their eyes has dimmed.

They’ll never be the same again.

And El… she had been so young, you don’t think you’ll ever not feel the heavy weight of guilt whenever you think of her. She had been so sweet and had trusted you.

You should’ve been there, you wish you could’ve saved her.

Steve watches from his seat across from you. He listens in as you comfort the boys, taking care of them in such a natural way. He admires this softer side of you, one he hasn’t quite seen before. Sure, you’ve always been gentle and sincere, but watching you with the kids is something special in itself. You manage to get them to laugh, you offer them your shoulder to cry or sleep on, and you read aloud to them stories from your comics and Steve finds himself drawn towards your interactions with the kids.

It’s sweet, something delicate and lovely, and Steve admires everything that you are. When he sees you awkwardly stand up and stumble over to the vending machines in the hall, Steve finds himself following after you.

“Bitch!” You slam the palm of your hand against the vending machine in vain. The bag of chips hangs by the little spiral, taunting you.

“That’s not a very nice word, Henderson.”

You turn and see Steve, leaning against the wall with a fond expression. “You stalking me?”

“Nah, just wanted to watch you fight against a vending machine.”

“Ha,” you snort, turning back to the machine. “Unless you can help me get this last chip bag, you’re free to go sit back down.”

You mean it to be a joke, not expecting Steve to actually listen, but he’s at your side within a second. “Step back, let Steve handle her.”

“What–”

Steve motions for you to move, so you reluctantly do as you’re told. Once you’re out of the way, Steve claps his hands, stretches out his neck, and then begins to aggressively shake the vending machine.

“That is so not what you’re supposed to do–”

Suddenly the bag drops down from the hook and into the retrieval slot. Steve reaches inside, grabs the bag, and then dangles it in the air. “Tada!”

You laugh and grab the bag from him. “Okay, I’ll admit, that was impressive.”

“What can I say? I’m charming like that.”

“Sure,” you smile at him, neither of you have moved yet. He’s still standing in front of you with that cocky smile on his face that’s slowly started to warm on you. You truly do understand why so many girls have fallen for him. If you ever saw Steve on the street, a stranger passing by, you’d fall a little bit in love with him yourself.

The thought startles you. “Well, uh…”

“Yes?” Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling.

“Thank you for the chips. The kids haven’t eaten anything in hours, so…” You wave the three bags in your arms. “Gotta keep 'em fed.”

“Wait a second, there’s only three bags there. Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“I only had enough money for the boy’s chips.” You say, feeling suddenly sheepish. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just eat a few pieces from them and wait until we get home.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, no.”

You frown at him, confused as he rustles through his jean pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I don’t want your money–”

He doesn’t listen and simply puts the cash into the vending machine and punches in a few numbers. Slowly, one by one, multiple different bags of sweets and chips come falling down within the machine. Once the last one has dropped, Steve bends down and offers the huge stash to you.

“A feast, on me.” He winks at you and you can’t help but blush.

“T–thanks, I guess.” You now carefully balance the rest of the snacks in your arms, the mound almost blocking your view. You’re not sure how much Steve just paid, but with all these snacks you and the kids will surely be well fed.

Steve shrugs, and if you weren’t so tired you’d think the blush on his face was a real one. “It’s the least I can do, all things considered.”

His words give you pause. You know he’s referencing earlier today, back in the alley where fists slammed against skin and he had dragged you away from your best friend, but the memory feels like years ago. So much has happened since then, Steve has saved your life since then.

“Steve…” Your ankle is starting to sting again from standing for so long, so you adjust your footing and try to figure out what you want to say. “I never got to thank you back at Jonathan’s.”

“Thank me?” His face scrunches in confusion in a sickeningly cute way that it almost distracts you.

“Yes. You saved my life tonight, Steve. I won’t ever forget that.”

“Oh…There’s no need to thank me. I mean, what are friends for?” Steve freezes and clears his throat. “I mean, shit. We aren’t friends, you keep saying that. Sorry. You know what I mean.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends?

“Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused.

“Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!”

“We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted.

Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”

Steve starts moving around in what you can only guess is a happy dance. “Sweet! Does this mean I get a cool nickname, too?”

“A nickname?” A bag of chips threatens to fall from your arms, but Steve catches it before it can land on the ground and takes a few more snacks off of your hands.

He readjusts the snacks he now has so that he can carry them easier. “Yeah, I mean. Byers has one, why can’t I?”

You don’t think you’ll ever stop feeling so thrown every time Steve mentions a small detail about you that he’s somehow come to notice. He has a habit of doing that, surprising you by how much he seems to pay attention to you. You thought that no one ever had before, but Steve continues to prove you wrong.

“I’ll tell ya what,” you begin to walk back towards the waiting room, careful to step carefully to not drop anything or upset your ankle. “Let’s see how this ‘friends’ thing works out, then I’ll decide what nickname fits you best. Deal?”

Steve thinks for a moment and follows. “Hmm. I don’t know, I think I’ll need some type of precaution to make sure you give me a nickname in the end. I want one, Y/N. I’m so serious right now.”

You laugh at his pleading tone. “I can add you to my baking list. Whatever I bake, you’ll get a piece of it. Is that better?”

“God, yes!” Steve punches the air and cheers.

You’re smiling so much that your face aches. You haven’t felt this light and carefree in so long, you’d almost forgotten what it’s like. The two of you don’t say anything else as you walk back to the waiting room, though Steve seems to slow down so that you don’t hurt your ankle keeping up, though you still let out a few winces and groans.

When you’ve arrived back at your seat, Steve sets down the snacks and runs off without another word. You’re confused by his sudden departure but don’t think much of it. Instead, you wake the boys up and show them your array of snacks, which wakes them up immediately.

You’re mediating a fight between Mike and Lucas over who gets the bag of Chips Ahoy when a nurse interrupts. “Excuse me, ma’am. This young man over here told me I should come over and check out your ankle?”

The woman smiles and you look past her and see Steve sheepishly waving from his seat across from you. You’re stunned. Had he really gone out of his way to ensure your ankle gets treated?

You shake the thoughts out of your head and inform the woman all she needs to know. You tell her how you’d fallen and what type of pain you feel when you stand up. She inspects the ankle, her fingers cold but kind, and within a few minutes has diagnosed you with a sprained ankle.

“All you can really do is stay off of it for a few weeks while it heals. I can go and get you some crutches, if you’d like?” She asks, rolling her gloves off and tucking them back into her pocket.

You nod. “If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great.”

The nurse leaves with the promise of being back soon. In the meantime she instructs you to keep your ankle elevated, so you prop it against the coffee table and wait. You’re annoyed that you even have to have crutches, but then you think of Barb, of El. You’re luckier than you should be.

–

After an hour or so, Jonathan opens the door to the waiting room. He spots you and Mike talking softly with each other and whistles over to catch your attention. When Mike looks up, Jonathan nods at him and the boy scrambles out of his seat.

“Guys! Guys! He’s up, Will is up!” Mike shakes awake Lucas and Dustin, who had been cuddling on the seats fast asleep. “Will’s up!”

Once they’re awake, they quickly follow after Mike and the three boys are gone in an instant, sprinting down the hall towards Will’s room. Clearly they’re eager to see their friend.

You do your best to get up as fast as possible, but your new crutches serve more as a nuisance rather than an aid. As you struggle to get up, somehow knocking over the mountain of snacks, Steve rushes over.

He grabs the crutches and offers you his hand. “Here, careful.”

“Thanks,” you awkwardly accept his hand and get up. Jonathan watches from the doorway, a curious look on his face. Nancy does the same from her seat, not saying a word as she watches Steve gently help you navigate the waiting room with your injury.

Jonathan holds the door open for you and takes over once you’re out the door. He grabs the crutches from Steve and is now the one to hold your hand, balancing you. “I can take it from here, Harrington.”

“Right, yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his head and coughs. “I’ll just… yeah.”

He heads back inside and you and Jonathan watch as he leaves. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jonathan turns to you. “Are you two friends now or something?”

“We almost died tonight, bee. I think it’s safe to call Steve a friend now.”

Jonathan bites his lip, though there’s a far off look in his eye that leaves you feeling like you’ve missed something in the conversation. “Guess that’s true. Anyways, let’s get you to Will.”

By the time you make it to the room, the boys have swarmed around Will and are telling him everything he’s missed this week. He’s listening eagerly as they’re telling him about El, but when he sees you enter the room, his eyes light up and he tries to sit up.

“Y/N!” Will calls out, pure excitement in his voice.

You practically fall over in your haste to get to him. The second you’re close enough, you collapse onto his bed and give him the tightest hug you possibly can without hurting him. He feels so small against you, smaller than he’s ever felt before, and his sunken eyes and pale skin make you want to cry.

But he’s alive and here and in your arms once again, happy and wonderful and safe.

“Little bee,” you try not to cry, but tears are thick in your voice. “I missed you.”

Will manages a weak smile and shrugs, trying to play off the gravity of the situation. “Took a little detour home.”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. “At least you came home, that’s all that matters.”

“Ahem,” Mike obnoxiously clears his throat, effectively ending your moment with Will. “You’re hogging Will, move over.”

You laugh again and move away, allowing the boys to resume their millions of updates. You maneuver your crutches and walk over to Jonathan, who is standing by the door. He’s looking at the boys and Will with a soft smile on his face and you join him, standing side by side as you watch your boys finally come together again.

Then, you feel a pair of eyes on you and you turn around. Nancy is leaning against the doorway behind you; she looks frail and distraught. There’s a sadness in her eyes as she watches the kids. You know that watching the boys reunite with their friend must remind her of Barb. She never got her happy reunion.

You feel awful for the girl, so when her bittersweet smile drops and she turns to leave the room, you nudge Jonathan to make him aware of the situation. He sees her fleeing and begins to follow after her, but he stops.

“What are you waiting for? Go.” You tell him, knowing it’s for the best.

He shifts his weight, uncertain. “Are you sure?”

You’re not sure how to decipher the hidden meanings underneath those three words, but you find that you’re exhausted trying to keep reading between the lines. The feelings you’ve kept buried bubble to the surface, but you remind yourself that he loves Nancy, despite your weird moments of almost with him. There’s something there between you and Jonathan, you both can feel it, but it feels too raw and fragile to bring into the light.

Without having to ask, you know that Jonathan will choose her.

It breaks your heart, but you look over at Dustin and Will, who are laughing about some joke while Joyce gazes at them fondly, and you know that you can’t lose this. Maybe Jonathan knows this, too. The small family you’ve built together, it’s too precious to ruin.

Joyce and your boys, you can’t lose them. They’re yours, and Jonathan is yours in a way that you can’t quite keep to yourself forever, but for now it’s enough. You approach Joyce, grab her hand and give her a tired smile, and the smile she returns to you reminds you that this is more than enough for you.

You turn to Jonathan, pushing down your feelings once more in favor of appreciating the fact that Will is looking at you again, alive. “Go, bee.”

Jonathan gives you one last look. You study his face for a moment, watching as it shifts from confusion, to hurt, then finally into acceptance. You’ll never be sure of what exactly he’d been thinking in that moment, but it seemed to have been enough for him, too.

He smiles, lets out a deep breath, and then leaves.

The door closes softly behind him.

–

A month later you find yourself in the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, tired from your shift at Bookstrordinary but excited to pick up your brothers. Somehow, even after missing three consecutive shifts last month, Mrs. Waters refused to fire you.

But Jonathan? He hadn’t been so lucky. His boss fired him from the Hawk, but he hadn’t been too upset. He still drives you to and from work, so you suppose things could be worse.

It’s late, but the two of you take your time driving to the Wheeler’s. Nothing much has changed between you two following Will’s reappearance. Sure, maybe you’re at his house more just to make sure Will is adapting well, but besides that everything seemed to go back to normal.

Well, almost normal.

Steve appeared at your job a few days after your conversation in the hospital. He had surprised you when you walked in, and when you asked what he was doing in a bookstore, Steve simply shrugged and said, “You can’t figure out my nickname if we don’t hang out, right? So, I’m here.”

He had become a regular at the store, stopping by whenever he could, and slowly the two of you became good friends. You’ve come to enjoy Steve’s presence, something that you never thought would ever happen. But he keeps you company as you work, he wanders around and explores the comics and books you recommend to him, and it’s nice having someone to goof off with.

Plus, you did promise to add him to your baking list, so he’s also become your taste tester who happily eats any creation you bring in for him.

As for Nancy…

That was more of a sore subject for Jonathan.

There was a few weeks following Will’s reappearance that you thought Jonathan and Nancy would get together, but it never happened. You’re not quite sure why, maybe it had something to do with Jonathan’s hesitation of approaching her, but it had crushed him when you and he saw Nancy and Steve making out in the hall as if nothing bad had ever happened.

The way Jonathan’s face crumbled when he saw the couple only solidified that he’d never be yours, but you comforted him anyways. You told him he deserved better and then dragged him away. It’d taken him a few days, but eventually Jonathan was able to fake a smile again.

You haven’t spoken about it since that day, but you leave your window open most nights for him to crawl in. The nightmares from that night fighting the monster plague you both, and the loneliness feels a little heavier than usual, but at least you have each other.

“Jonathan! Y/N! Come in, the boys are downstairs.” Mrs. Wheeler answers the door, letting the two of you in. “And Y/N, I love that sweater on you.”

You thank the woman. “It was a gift from my mom. She claims I need to up my wardrobe, whatever that means.”

“Well, I think she has lovely taste.”

“I’ll let you know you think so!” You open the basement door and motion for Jonathan to go down first.

When he reaches the bottom of the steps, Jonathan makes a face. “Woah, what’s that smell? Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?”

“My vote is farting.” You say, hopping down the last step. Your ankle has mostly healed by now, but sometimes if you land on it wrong it makes a weird clicking noise followed by some pain, but you choose to pretend that it’s normal.

The boys laugh and Lucas points at your brother. “Oh, that’s just Dustin. He farted.”

He begins making fart noises with his mouth and you and Dustin share a look. “Very mature, Lucas.”

The boy continues to sing and make fart noises and you can’t believe that this is your life. You’re standing in a smelly basement while picking up your stubborn brother all while simultaneously enjoying the fact that you get to call this your life.

Jonathan calls over to Will to grab his things, so you follow suit and gently berate Lucas. “Alright, that’s enough. I gotta get Dustin home.”

“What, I thought I got to stay–”

“Jonathan is our ride and I made cookies, so let’s go.”

The moment the word “cookies” leaves your mouth, Dustin hops up and collects his things without any further argument.

Once he’s ready, he and Lucas play wrestle as they say goodbye. While they’re distracted, you walk over to Mike and discreetly hand him a container full of double fudge brownies. You’d specifically made them for him, knowing they were his favorite, because you noticed how hard it’s been for him to adjust to El being gone. He really cared about her, anyone could see that.

Mike’s eyes widen and he throws his arms around you. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You pat his back. “Anytime, Wheeler.”

Dustin breaks away from Lucas and runs up the stairs, so you take that as your cue to leave.

Upstairs, Jonathan and Will are talking to Mrs. Wheeler. When they see you enter, the woman turns to you and asks if you’ll be bringing over your usual round of holiday treats. “Of course, I’ll get started on them tomorrow. You guys still like the sugarbread cookies?”

“If you make them, I think I’ll die of happiness.” Mrs. Wheeler informs you, and you laugh and tell her that you’ll have them ready as soon as possible.

You bid her goodbye, Dustin now by your side, and you follow Jonathan and Will to the front door. Right before you open the door, Nancy calls Jonathan’s name from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Jonathan, wait up!”

You, Dustin, and Will stand awkwardly in the back while Nancy hands Jonathan a wrapped gift and wishes him a merry Christmas. They share an awkward exchange since Jonathan hadn’t gotten her anything, but Nancy assures him that it’s fine. The interaction is painful to watch as Nancy doesn’t spare you a single glance. Dustin and Will look at you uncertainly when she kisses Jonathan’s cheek, but you ignore them and pretend to be interested in a Christmas decoration on the table.

This will never get any easier.

“You ready?” Jonathan turns back to you guys, a blush on his face, and all you can do is silently nod.

In the car you sit in the back with Dustin, who squeezes your arm in reassurance. He’s come to understand your complex feelings for Jonathan and has pieced together Nancy’s involvement. While he’s never outright consoled you, he’s shown his support in other small and wonderful ways.

“Thanks,” you whisper, and Dustin smiles.

“We all buckled up?” Jonathan asks as he starts up the car.

“Yes, captain.” You mock salute.

Will giggles at you before he sees the gift and looks up at Jonathan. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You and Dustin lean forward so you can see what’s in the box. When Will unwraps a beautiful, and no doubt expensive, camera, you gasp. The bitterness and hurt from moments ago vanishes. This gift is from Steve, you know it is, and something warm settles deep within your bones.

You think about last month, how you’d told him not everyone can just afford a camera.

Seems like Steve listened.

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all.

–

A week later you knock on the Byers’ door, a giant container of your annual holiday cookies in your arms.

“Bug!” Jonathan answers the door with an excited smile on his face. His new camera is in his hands and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already taken a photo of you with your crooked earmuffs and oversized box of cookies.

He’s been using the camera ever since he got it. There’s now multiple pictures of you, always unaware or caught off guard, now hanging in the kitchen. It makes you blush to think about.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to smile.” You complain, shoving your way inside. It’s snowing and you’re freezing.

Joyce grabs the container to help you as soon as she sees you. “Here, honey. I’ve got it.”

You thank her and walk over to Will, who is drawing at the kitchen table. “Hey little bee. Whatcha drawing?”

“Hi, Y/N.” He slides over his picture and you’re shown a quick sketch of you and the party, this time fighting what appears to be a misshapen dog. “It’s a Dire Wolf, we’re fighting it in our latest campaign.”

“Ah, I see. Looks fluffy, though. Can’t possibly be a dangerous creature.”

Will rolls his eyes at you. “This is why you don’t play with us.”

“Careful, you’re sassing the girl who has just bravely ridden her bike through the snow to deliver her famous Christmas cookies.”

Will is out of his seat in an instant, running over to his mom, who has just placed the container on the counter. “Did you make the oatmeal raisin cookies?”

“Duh,” you snort.

“And the chocolate chip?”

“I sure did.” You stand next to him and point at a new cookie you’re trying out this year. “This batch is a caramel banana one. Steve seemed to like it and I think it’s pretty good, so I hope you do too.”

Jonathan swoops over and kisses your head. “Of course we’ll like it, bug.”

“He’s right, you know. We always love whatever you make us, honey.” Joyce informs you, her mouth now full of cookies.

“I’d hope so, this is like my fifth year making these for you guys. It’d be awkward if you hated my baking.” You say, now securing your earmuffs back on your head. “Anyways, I should get going. It’s Christmas, my mom won’t want me out too long.”

Joyce looks out the window and frowns. “Did you really bike here in this weather?”

“It wasn’t too bad, I’ll be fine–”

“No. Jonathan, grab your keys and drive Y/N home.” She stares you down, daring you to argue with her, but you don’t. You know better than to argue with Joyce Byers.

Once Jonathan has his keys, you say goodbye to everyone and wish them a merry Christmas. Jonathan throws your bike in his trunk and soon you’re off on the road. The drive is quiet but cozy. The snowflakes fall in a pretty spiral and there’s a soft song playing on the radio.

Sometimes, if you close your eyes, you can pretend that the events from last month never happened. Will never disappeared. You never discovered that you love Jonathan. Nancy Wheeler never became friends with Jonathan, possibly something more had there been more time. When you close your eyes and sit still, you can imagine that your brother never has nightmares that wake him up screaming. That your heart doesn’t hurt when you make your best friend laugh.

For a moment, you can forget.

“Can we always stay like this?” You ask Jonathan softly, almost as if you’ll disturb the peace that winter has brought with its quiet snow.

“Like what?”

You’re not sure how to express what you’re feeling. “This, us. Together.”

“Of course we’ll always stay like this.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. He says this like it’s a fact, the most obvious thing in the world.

“Pinky promise me.” You hold your pinky up. You know it’s silly, but you need him to hear you, to understand what you’re saying.

Jonathan looks over at you. “Y/N–”

“Please, promise me, bee.”

He’s silent for a moment, seeming to understand the weight of everything between, around, and within the two of you. Then, he extends his pinky finger and wraps it around yours. “I promise, bug.”

And you believe him.

[END OF SEASON 1]

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you'd like to be added/removed from my taglist, please just left me know !

taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #im so tired n happy and full of love for u all #cannot believe its done :')#pls pls pls enjoy <333

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lesvii · 6 months ago

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You don’t own me.

One shot

Just a lil something I had in my mind, also this is a fem reader !

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Your relationship with Valeria wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing but you two tried to do what was best for both. Sometimes you just spends countless days alone in her hacienda surrounded with ‘’her best mans’’ just to always keep an eye out for you, when she disappear to make her business deals, it was her form of saying ‘I love you’.

It’s silly to think what could had been if she didn’t have this kind of job.

A drug lord.

Maybe in another universe you two actually had decent jobs and a normal life, but this wasn’t the case.

This time you two just got into a fight, again. It was common now, Valeria’s stress was overbearing since she had just lost over a huge deal thanks to the Mexican fuerzas especiales, it wasn’t your fault and you know it, she knows it too. But in this case everything for her was too much, too much noise, her man talking, you trying to reason with her to take a decent rest.

‘’ Valeria… please just take time to rest, how can you do all of this by yourself in this state?’’.

You said as your hands rested on her desk, pleading at her, she sighed irritated by your comment, you two already had the chat about leaving the cartel, oh how many times you pleaded to her, just for her safety, frankly you didn’t care about luxury and wealth when it came from the suffering of others. But she didn’t see it that way, she worked damn hard to get to the top, she wasn’t backing up now, not even for you.

‘’ I’m fine y/n.’’. Valeria said coldly.

You just stare at her, lost, you sighed as you stand up straight, that’s when she looked at you as she raised an eyebrow.

´´fine.´´ you said as you turn away to exit her office.

‘’Where do you think you’re going?’’ Valeria said with a cold demand.

You slowly turn away to face her again, as you gaze her slowly, analyzing which move would be the correct one and which one will guarantee you the bad side of Valeria garza.

‘’ Well… clearly away, since you wont listen to me anyways…’’ you said, as you crossed your arms.

Valeria gazed you from her desk office as she got up, slowly walking towards you, it was almost mesmerizing, like a lion stalking its prey ready to attack. As she stopped right in front of your face, just a few inches far apart.

‘’ Quién chingados te crees para hablar me así?’’ Valeria said with her strong Mexican accent, in that tone she used to yell to her workers.

Unbelievable you think, after all you’ve done for her, she dares to speak at you like that. You stand there not sure of what to say, at the end you were just as tired as she was.

‘’ You know what I’m not in the mood for this, I’m out.’’ You said as you sighed, closed your eyes to stop the headache. As you were leaving the door, she grabs you by the arm as she pushes you back to her office.

‘’ I’ve asked you a question corazón, huh?’’ Valeria said once again.

You pulled your arm off her grip, as you started to loose patience too.

‘’ I said I’m not in the mood for your little theatrics Valeria! God—‘’ you brushed her off.

She frowns her eyebrows, as she analyzes you with a cold gaze. You could see how the aura in the room changed, as you shook your head, trying to get off the awful feeling.

“I’ve done everything for you. And this is how you react?” Valeria said as she crossed her arms.

You sighed, for a moment you were going to explode but let’s be honest, her and you going mad wasn’t the right move, You chuckled.

“Really Val? Cause from about 6 months you’ve been disappearing every week, I dont even know if your hurt, if your alive even!” I finally said at her, she just looked at you as if she was looking for the correct words to say it.

“You’ve decided to stay with me, you know the consequences of it.” She said without flinching.

You stare at her defeated knowing once again you won’t win this fight, as if someone can win el sin nombre.

“I- you don’t get it do you? It’s getting so tiredly we can’t have a normal conversation every time you decide to turn it into a fight, I’m not sure I can do this anymore.” You said as you shook you head stepping away from her

She laughed, as you turned around confused at her.

“What? Do you think I you can just leave here?, asi nomas? ”. She said lastly as her Mexican accent.

You just stared at her, as your vision started to get blurry from the tears in your eyes. You hated when she talked like that. You stare at her confused. She walked around you as if a predator analyzing his prey.

“You aren’t allowed to leave anymore corazón, you decided to stay.. you’ve know too much by now” Valeria said.

You freeze for a second not sure what she meant.

“You don’t own me.” Was the only thing that came out of you, she smirked at you as she laughed.

“Oh… but you do”. Valeria said as she caressed your cheek.

Thx for reading this ! Once again English is not my first language, if I wrote something wrong please feel free to correct me ❤️

#valeria garza #valeria garza x fem!reader #lesbian #el sin nombre #valeria garza cod #angst #valeria garza is a lesbian <3 #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x you #call of duty valeria

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littlebimboprincess · 3 months ago

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a bit about me !

full-time bimbo / part-time baby

I wanna stay kinda anonyyy on this blog bc I jus wanna be silly n don wanna worri about cens0ring myself so muchh ! but herez what I’m comfy sharing for now :

20’s / Single / Canadian / Cis / Bi-Curious

⋆ ⟡ ❤︎₊ ⊹ my onlyfanz ⊹₊ ❤︎ ⟡ ⋆

⋆ ⟡ ❤︎₊ ⊹ my wishlist ⊹₊ ❤︎ ⟡ ⋆

jus call me Barbie or Princess or other cute stuff. I’m not ur slut, cocksleeve, fucktoy, etc.

i’m alreadi a bimbo. i’m an erotic masseuse n content creator (but i’m waiting til i’m further in my journey before ill be more active with the content creation / OF / modelling stuff !). i have 650cc boobiez, a nose job, lip filler n botox ! but im still rly far from my goalz so im using this blog 2 motiv8 myself by sharing my fav bimbo pix! I luv making bimbo frenz, but plz be patient wit me cuz I mostly jus q a bunch of posts on here n then disappear for a few dayz lol

Kinks: Bimbofication (duhhh!), ddlg + mdlg (but i also age regress for non-kink reasons!), bdsm, cnc/kidnapping/captivity, pet play, trad gender roles, romance, commitment, loyalty, intelligence (No srsly!! Those things turn me on wayyyy more than unsolicited dick pics)

Hard Limits: Poop, pedos, piss-drinking, animals, cheap/broke men, public play, pimping, “bimbo trainers”, satanism/blasphemy

PS, if u r gonna treat this app like a dating site, do it properly! Show me what u look like. Treat me wit respect. Don’t be a horny lil dweeb.

#my diary #me

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hp-hcs · 1 year ago

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(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 1 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

Gay Awakening (Chapter One) — smitten! mattheo riddle x male! reader

TWs: tobacco & alcohol use, internalized homophobia, homophobic slurs (once)

hella ooc mattheo. congrats, ur his gay awakening, and he’s an absolutely smitten lil gay mess for you but yk he’s trying

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey, dude. Who’s that?” Theodore asked, bumping Mattheo’s arm to get his attention, then pointing his fork in your direction. You were sitting at the very end of the table’s bench, wearing an oversized black muggle hoodie with your green tie loose and haphazardly slung around your neck. You were animatedly talking with, out of all people, a Hufflepuff. The Hufflepuff girl sitting at the Slytherin table either seemed to be completely unaware of the looks she was receiving, or she was steadfastly ignoring them. Your laugh cut through the room, the Hufflepuff cracking up with you.

“American transfer students,” Malfoy sneered. “They clearly don’t know the rules yet.”

“Oh, shut up, Draco,” Pansy rolled her eyes, resting her chin on her hand and looking at the Hufflepuff for a moment too long.

Draco scoffed, clearly offended. “Whatever. They’re probably faggots anyway.”

Pansy whirled around with a furious expression. Mattheo himself flinched slightly at the slur, which caused Blaise to look at him questioningly. Once Mattheo had waved Blaise’s unspoken question off, Zabini shrugged, leaning over and muttering in his ear, “Ten galleons says she brings up Potter.”

“-and everyone knows that you have a crush on Harry Motherfucking Potter, so maybe you should take your bigotry and shove it right up your-”

“Pansy?” you questioned, awkwardly standing across from her. “Here, ‘m supposed t’ give this to you.”

You leaned across the table to drop a folded up note in front of her, allowing Mattheo to catch a faint whiff of your cologne. You looked back down at the floor shyly, hurrying back to your spot at the end of the table.

“He’s hot,” Theo shrugged, taking a bite of his toast. “I call dibs.”

“You can’t call dibs on the guy who just asked Pansy out, dipshit.”

“Actually, it’s a note from the ‘puff,” Pansy interjected, twisting her wrist around to show off the neat cursive written in a purple glitter gel pen. “She wants to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend, dipshit.”

“Yeah, dipshit,” Mattheo teased Theodore. “Plus, I think Malfoy already called dibs on him, so tough luck.”

Theo blew a raspberry at him, only a slight distraction from where Mattheo’s comment had fueled another Pansy-rant and left Draco sinking low in his seat as if he wanted to disappear.

~~~

“Alright, Zabini, you’re up. What classic novel is a satirical adaptation of R. M. Ballantyne’s The Coral Island?”

“Why the fuck would I know that, Berkshire?”

“Blaise forfeits! Sudden death round is down to just us, Riddle,” Theo crowed excitedly, watching as the score quill of the charmed muggle trivia game scratched Blaise’s name off of the paper score sheet, drawing a condescending frowny face next to it.

Enzo laughed, flipping over the little hourglass timer. “If anyone can answer in the next thirty seconds, they automatically win the game.”

“No idea,” Mattheo shrugged. Theodore spun his rings around on his fingers before shrugging too.

“The Lord of the Flies,” your quiet voice pipes up. The game players all look over in your direction from where you’ve just entered the common room—coming back from the library, it looked like, if the stack of books in your hands explained anything.

“What?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow and sneering.

“The Lord of the Flies,” you repeated. “William Golding. Fantastic book.”

Malfoy huffed. “And who are you, exactly?”

“Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself, nodding politely in their direction before wordlessly disappearing up the dorm room stairs.

Mattheo stared after you alongside his friends, none of them immediately noticing the charmed quill writing your name down on the score card as the winner.

~~~

“C’n I bum a smoke?” your sleepy voice called softly from behind Mattheo. He turned around from his spot on the otherwise unoccupied balcony to see you rubbing your eyes, a fuzzy green blanket draped around your shoulders. He cleared his throat and nodded, fishing a fresh cigarette out of the pack and holding it out to you. His heart rate stuttered for a moment when your fingers brushed against his.

“Thanks,” you muttered, using a wandless incantation to light it. Mattheo leaned back against the railing, taking a drag from his half-finished cigarette and blowing the smoke out thoughtfully.

“Why’re you up? It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

Maybe it was his well-meaning-but-patronizing phrasing or the confidence-imbued late night cigarette, but you clicked your tongue once and said in a short, clipped tone, “Oh, shut the fuck up, you hypocrite.”

Mattheo barked out a surprised laugh, choking on his lungful of smoke and falling into a coughing fit.

“Language, L/n,” he teased.

“English, Riddle,” you snickered back.

He grinned at you, blushing a nice pink color as you both smoked in a comfortable silence for a moment.

“My roommate brought some girl back from the party he went to,” you say after a while. “Didn’t want to deal with all that.”

“Ah,” Mattheo nodded slowly. “Boys seem to lose all of their brain cells as soon as they come within a ten-foot radius of a hot girl.”

You snort. “Not all of us.”

“Yeah?” he questioned, in a way he hoped came off as nonchalant, even though he was internally freaking out. “No lucky lady piquing your interest?”

“This may shock you, but believe it or not, I’m not actually into girls at all,” you snort again, dropping the cigarette butt and grinding it into the ground with the toe of your sneaker.

“Really?” he asked in a high voice before loudly clearing his throat. “I mean- really? That’s cool. Uh, m-me too.”

“Yeah?” you glanced up at him curiously. “Huh. I wouldn’t’a guessed.”

“Can I kiss you, Y/n?” Mattheo blurted out, immediately snapping his mouth shut and mentally facepalming.

“Sure,” you shrugged.

“Huh?”

“I said sure.”

The poor boy was frozen in place, gaping at you. Taking pity on him, you made the first move—tugging on his tie to pull him down to your level.

His hand found the back of your neck, gripping it while kissing you softly—much more gently than you would’ve expected.

When you broke apart, he looked like he’d just been enlightened. Like he might've actually shouted eureka! and run off.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “I’ve never kissed a guy before- holy shit.” He laughs freely, cupping your face to kiss you again.

“So what now, Archimedes?” At his confused expression you elaborated, “Muggle reference, sorry.”

He nodded slowly, his fingers automatically winding their way into the hair at the nape of your neck. “Well… you could sleep with me tonight,” he offered after a moment. “Y’know, so you don’t have to deal with your roommate.”

“Oh, um, I’m not really that type of guy, Mattheo…” you trailed off.

“Oh!” His eyes widened in panic. “I didn’t mean to imply- I mean, not that I wouldn’t love- I meant we could just literally sleep in the same bed!”

You giggled, a bit relieved. “I’d like that.”

He took a deep breath, smiling hesitantly at you. “No funny business, promise. All at your discretion.”

He held out his hand to you, and you took it immediately, leaning into his side.

“So about that fight between Malfoy and Pansy…”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Two

#harry potter #hp x male reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheoxreader #x male reader #pansy parkinson is sapphic goddamnit #draco malfoy’s a douchebag #theodore nott is also here ig #hp #they’re my silly little guys #my friend was like “hey who would be mattheo’s gay awakening?”#and as a joke i said “me”#but tada!

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mara-and-its-the-same · 2 years ago

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JJ's got a little family and they're just having a day on the town. CWs:Mean old ladies, protective dad jj, mom reader, preschooler daughter, taking a pregnancy test, implied smut, I think he calls her momma once or twice, no grammar, I avoided y/n but I don't know if I did it well; let me know if I missed anything Wc:3.9k

Well this was an incredibly self indulgent fic because the scenario was brewing in my lil noggin for at least two months and then I was like well it's doing no good in there and the only reason I even watched obx was for this man, and this man alone. And so here you go. I haven't read this since I wrote it I just wanted to post something before I start posting my long fic.

"Babe, are you even listening?" JJ finally caught his wife's attention from the ring on her left hand.

"Yes, but look." She held her hand up to let the diamond catch the light, sending rainbows flying across the ceiling of the car as she shifted it back and forth. "It's so shiny."

"I know, love." He took her hand and kissed her fingers. "That's why I picked it, but enough of that we have things to do! A list to check off! You ready Tiny?" He called to the back seat.

"Mhm, all ready," his 4 year old daughter, Iris, giggled from the back seat.

"Let's go then. I'll get her, you get a cart, ok?"

"Sounds good to me," JJ answered, then left on his assigned mission with a salute.

Iris laughed with her mom, "Daddy's so silly."

"Yes he is baby, you have no idea." She finally got all the clips undone just as JJ was bringing the cart over, so all she had to do was lift her up and into the cart.

"Weeeee," Iris cheered as she landed in the seat. "Again, again."

"We can do it again when we get back, we gotta get the stuff first, silly." JJ made a face at her while the three of them walked into the store.

He went through all the pockets in his shorts until he found the list. "Divide and conquer?" he suggested

"Absolutely not, I'm not leaving you two alone together and I'm definitely not letting you off on your own. Let's go." She led them down the produce aisle and took the list from JJ. "You got a pen?"

JJ handed her one and she crossed the first item off the list putting a bag of grapes in the cart. Iris made grabby hands towards it and she gave in, setting the bag in her lap.

***

Halfway down the list and a third of the way through the store JJ and Iris started tossing grapes in each other's mouths.

"You want one, baby?" He asked, offering her a grape while she scanned the shelves for the right brand of flour.

"No, I'm ok." She looked around like she was trying to remember something. "Ummm, I'm gonna go grab something. I forgot it when we were over there 'cause it's not on the list. I'll be right back. Don't eat them all!" She pecked JJ on the cheek before disappearing down the aisle.

Iris crossed her arms on the handle bar and laid her forehead on it, "I'm booored."

"Me too but we gotta stay here till your mama gets back, ok kid?" He copied her posture and tilted his head so he could look at her better. She had his hair and eyes but besides that she looked exactly like her mother.

"Fine," she groaned and he offered his fist out for her.

"Ready?" he asked and she nodded.

"Rock, paper, scissors," they both said at the same time. JJ put up scissors and she put up rocks. "Awww you got me, again?"

"Yeah." They played for a few more rounds until JJ saw his wife coming back down the aisle with her hands behind her back. She was walking quickly with her hair swishing behind her. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at what she could be rushing from. He worried something had happened in the 5 minutes she was away.

She threw the small boxes in the cart behind the other bags and nodded her head behind her at an old lady giving them dirty looks. "Don't say anything, just keep walking ok?" she whispered to him while trying to act natural. She wasn't quiet enough because Iris still heard and asked what was wrong. "Nothing baby, don't worry about it." She stroked her daughter's golden hair back from her face and kissed her forehead, taking control of the cart. JJ put a comforting hand on her back as they passed the old lady still giving them the stink eye.

She said something under her breath. "Excuse me?" JJ said defensively.

"I just think irresponsible children like you can't make responsible parents."

"And what makes you say that?" He put his hands on his hips and stared the old woman down.

"JJ please." She rubbed her thumb over Iris's hand.

"No, I'd like to know, what makes you think my wife and I are irresponsible parents?"

She squared up to him, "You're far too young, too young to be married. You don't know what real life is yet how can you raise a child?"

"And you know all this after what? Following my wife for however many aisles?!" Iris took the phone with her favorite game offered to her, her mother knowing JJ wouldn't let up once he started.

"From the way she looked at the ! I knew she was unfit just after one look!" JJ looked back at his wife with a look of surprised confusion. She only replied with a shrug and nodded from Iris to the end of the aisle. He nodded yes back and she took the cart back up the aisle, not wanting to involve her daughter in this argument. She stopped a quarter of the way up when the man that was with the old woman before walked down to where she and JJ were arguing. "Just look at that outfit what kind of mother would walk around like that?!" The 'unfit' mother in question looked at her outfit, cutoff shorts of a reasonable length and one of JJ's faded old shirts cut into a crop top, and cocked an eyebrow. Not her most fashionable look but she just thought she was going to the grocery store with her family, not being ambushed by an impromptu episode of What Not to Wear. "Then I come here and find her already with a child. And you? So disrespectful!"

The man walked past their cart and nodded to Iris and her mother, before stopping in front of the woman and JJ. He was taller than JJ and much bigger. Despite his overbearing stature he put a hand on the woman's arm and sternly said, "Let's go, leave this nice family alone."

"No! I was just doing my shopping when I saw this- this hussy walk past." JJ's nostrils flared once and he dug his nails into his palms. The other man put a hand on her shoulder and stopped her right there.

"What is wrong with you? What have these people ever done to you to speak to her that way?"

She sputtered for an answer and JJ just shook his head and said, "It doesn't matter. Never speak to any one like that again, especially my wife." He turned back to his family and he took his wife's hand. "Let's go momma."

She blushed hard, "What did I say about calling me that when we're out?" she said with a glare.

"Nothing? I always call you that when Tiny's around." He shrugged, not knowing what she was referring to.

"Not that, you know how I feel when you call me your wife."

He finally understood her message. "Oh, but you are my wife, I just want everyone to know it." He kissed her jaw before turning to the freezers filled with ice cream. He noticed she went right for the ice cream she ate nonstop just under five years ago. "Hm, haven't had that one in a while." She shrugged with a nod. "You needa tell me something?"

She looked at him and he half expected her to look like a deer in headlights but she just calmly smiled. "When we get home."

"She's getting tired, why don't you take her to the car and I'll finish here?" She handed the empty bag of grapes to the cashier and quickly explained they ate them all but she's not going to leave without paying. There was still a bit in the cart, including the second bag of grapes.

"Are you sure? We can stay and help."

"Jay, she's falling asleep. I'll be fine, you go ahead."

"I don't know, that cart looks pretty heavy." He put his hands in his pockets and rocked up on his feet. Her only answer was to raise her eyebrows.

"You're a mess," She kissed Iris's head, "You're gonna go to the car with daddy, baby ok?"

Iris nodded a little and when JJ picked her up she whispered the tiredest little "weeee" she could muster.

She and the cashier both smiled at the little girl half way asleep in her father's arms.

He put her down in her car seat then went to the trunk to look for a blanket when he heard a painfully nasal voice behind him. He tried his best to ignore it and give Iris her blanket even though a part of him was just itching to ask her who she thinks she is that she can speak to his wife that way. He brushed Iris's hair out of her face and made sure her blanket was tucked in. He shut the door and walked just ahead of the car to see if his wife made it out of the store yet.

2 seconds later she stepped out with the cart full of brown paper bags. He watched her look both ways, and the way her hair moved with her long strides and the soft breeze. He was too focused on her to notice the old woman make her way over and intercept the cart on his way over to her.

"My son finally left so I can say whatever I want now! You aren't fit to be a mother at your age! Look at what you're feeding your poor daughter! You children don't understand how to properly raise children. Letting her pick out everything she wants, shoving the phone in her face as soon as it gets too hard. I bet you're some of those "gentle parents" too, aren't you?" The young woman just looked bored out of her mind, which looking back probably only encouraged the old woman.

JJ was worried he'd have to intervene but he didn't want to leave their daughter alone in the car, so he stood at the car but out far enough so he could watch. He knew how she gets with confrontation like this, especially with getting yelled at and strangers. But she held her own.

"Is that all, I'd really like to just get home with my family if you don't mind." She kept eye contact and spoke calmly. "I honestly don't know what you think gives you the right to yell at me and my husband, especially right in front of our daughter, when you've only see us do what? Make her a respectful, happy kid? Buy some lube? Swear? Fuckin' Christ lady leave me and my family alone." The old woman was obviously shell shocked so she just pushed the cart right past and started loading the trunk with JJ's help.

He noticed her shaky hands and unsteady breathing. "Hey, hey, hey, I got this, ok? You go wait with her inside ok?" He quickly wiped underneath her eyes and she nodded her head.

Once he finished and got into the drivers seat, she'd had a chance to calm down. "I'm so proud of you," when she finally looked at him he swiped the sparkles lining her water line away. "I love you, so much. Tiny loves you way more than I can even describe. You did so good baby, so good." He stroked the side of her head as he spoke and kissed her head, "You ready to go?"

She swallowed the shrinking lump in her throat, "Yeah," she breathed out with a nod.

***

They laughed the whole ride home but were careful not to wake Iris. JJ did whatever he could to brighten the mood and he wasn't sure if she was laughing at his dumb jokes to stroke his ego or fake-it-till-you-make-it, or she actually thought he was funny. Any way, it worked for him.

"Should I wake her up?" JJ asked.

"No, I'll just bring her in."

"No you will not!"

"What? Why?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Because, I have a sneaking suspicion at what your little..." he wiggled his finger in the air. "surprise is, and so, I will be taking care of everything you will let me take care of." He said with a pointed finger wagging at her.

"You're ridiculous," she laughed while getting the smallest two bags and walking up to unlock the door so JJ could bring Iris in.

"But I'm right!"

"Shhhhhh," she giggled while setting the bags on the counter. "Maybe, maybe not. We shall see, very soon."

"How soon?"

"How soon can you take care of all the groceries?"

"So fuckin' soon." He kissed the side of her head before speed walking Iris into her room and tucking her in. He made sure all the curtains were all the way shut before he ran down the hall and out to the car, taking as many bags as he could carry at a time. She thought he was like the Flash with how fast he put everything away. When he put the last bottle in the door of the refrigerator and rushed to stand right in front of her.

"Is it soon yet?" He was excited as a little puppy and she nodded while her lips were still on her water bottle. He pulled it away and put it on the counter.

"What the fuck Jay?!" She stared at him wide eyed and he just looked right at her before walking down the hall.

"Chop chop!"

"You're the worst," she mumbled under her breath while grabbing the three rectangular boxes off the counter.

***

She set the timer on her phone and they both sat with their backs against the bathtub. She lazily slung her head to face him, he did the same.

"I'm not even sure, I just think maybe."

He grabbed her hand and rested them on the small, soft rug. "Whatever it says, I'll be happy. It doesn't have to happen right now, there's loooads of time. No matter what it says, I won't be dissapointed, ok?" He kissed the back of her hand still connected to his and she nodded.

They sat like that for a few more minutes until the timer went off. "Ready?" he asked when he set her phone back down.

"Mhm, I'll flip one, you flip the other and we both flip the last?"

"Mhm." They counted down together "3,2,1" clack.

Two lines.

Pregnant.

They both stared at each other for a few moments before he lifted her in a tight hug. She kicked her feet behind herself before wrapping her legs around his waist. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, just being near each other, feeling each other, breathing each other in.

"I want ice cream," she said through a wet whisper into his neck.

"Allow me, m'darlin'." He carried her into the kitchen while she giggled the whole way. He sat her on the counter top while he got the ice cream out for her.

"You're not gonna let me do anythin, are you?"

"No, I will not. For the next 9-odd months you won't have to lift a finger."

"But what if I want to?"

"As long as it's less than Tiny."

Her face dropped as she stuck the spoon back in the ice cream. "I can't hold my baby?" She pouted.

"She's gonna have to be promoted from baby." He laughed.

"But she's my baby."

"You'll have a new baby."

"Why can't they both be my babies?" She laid down on the counter, holding the ice cream on her stomach, savoring the final few weeks of not having a mound in the way.

"Hmm, I don't see why not."

"Yayyy." She smiled around the spoon.

"When can we tell her?" He sat with his chin laying on his arms next to her head.

"I think after the first scan and all that, so she can have a picture."

"Yay," he cheered and held his tongue out so she would give him some ice cream.

He gagged and ran to the sink to spit it out the second the spoon touched his tongue. She just shrugged and licked it off herself.

"I forgot how disgusting that is. How can you eat that?"

"I can't, unless I'm pregnant." She sat up on her elbows and set the ice cream down next to her. "You remember I tried it after Tiny was born and we had some left over and I almost threw up. Fuckin' revolting. I don't even know."

***

2 weeks later

"Hey Tiny! Where you at?" JJ yelled through the Chateau.

"Daddy!" Iris yelled back, running into the kitchen to meet her parents. Sarah and John B watched her but they spent most of the time outside since most of the interior was being renovated before the wedding.

Sarah walked inside and made her way over to the other young woman, "Sooo? How was it? Any fun and exciting news?"

"It went very very well, but unfortunately I am sworn to secrecy at the moment. At the request of JJ, he wants to wait until we're all together to avoid any favoritism."

""Cause you don't want it to go like last time?"

"Exactly, what a disaster that was." She slapped a hand over her mouth at what she just admitted and pushed Sarah into the other room. She shut the door and held Sarah by her shoulders. "You cannot tell anyone. JJ will have a fit," she whisper yelled.

"You have my word," Sarah crossed her heart and they pinky promised. "If I can have yours that I get exclusive godmother rights."

"I can't promise anything yet but I will see what I can do."

"How's the forecast look though?"

"I will say, pretty good, but you didn't hear it from me. And you cannot tell John B. JJ has to or we'll have to keep having more until he finally gets the chance. And I personally would like to keep it at a solid 2 because I don't think I could handle being outnumbered by more mini JJs."

***

When they finally got home they sat Iris down at the kitchen table and they sat across from her.

"We have some news for you, Tiny," JJ started.

"A surprise?" She stood on her chair.

"Yes baby, a surprise. But you have to sit down to get it." Her mom said, soft at first but the second in her sweet mom voice. Gentle but laced with authority, like hidden vegetables.

JJ pulled out the row of ultrasound pictures and slid them across the table to her.

"What is it?"

"What do you think it is?" She asked while JJ just watched his daughter try to piece everything together.

"A bean...in a dark room. A bean x-ray?"

"That's actually pretty close, but it's not quite an x-ray. It's an ultrasound, and that's what the doctor used to look in my belly."

"Why?"

"To look at that."

"What's that then?" She pointed to the little blob in the center.

They both looked at JJ so he could answer. He was caught a little off guard but composed himself quickly. "Uh it's a baby, or well it will be soon, eventually."

"You're having a baby?" She looked at her mother who was beaming back at her.

"Yeah."

"Where?" Not a very specific question but she's known her daughter long enough to know what she means so she pointed to her lower abdomen.

"Here, and this is where you used to be."

"Can I touch?" She nodded and Iris came over and stood between her legs. She lifted her mother's shirt and put her hand on her stomach.

"A little lower baby," She moved her hand down to the right spot. "Right there." She looked from her daughter back to JJ who was almost crying. She took his hand while their daughter spoke to the baby.

"Hi baby," she used the same tone her mother used with her. "I'm Iris, you're inside momma right now, that's why it's so dark. You're a little bean." She giggled but her head whipped around at the sound of JJ's sniffle. "Bye baby, I have to go talk to daddy now." She kissed the spot where her hand was and climbed up JJ's chair to hug him properly.

She was only 4 but she knew better than to ask why he was crying, her mom explained it once. Sometimes people just cry, there doesn't have to be a reason, but sometimes they feel so much it just overflows. She explained it with a glass of water after Iris had a bad day and had to get picked up early. She sat her on the counter and got a glass from the cabinet, "Sometimes when we feel a lot of things, or a lot of one thing it's just too much and we cry to let it out." The water started spilling over the sides. "Then we feel better." She dumped out the extra and handed her the glass while whipping the glossy streaks off her blotchy face.

She was proud of her daughter and rubbed her back before clearing the table. When she finished she stood behind JJ and kissed the top of his head. "Let's go lay down baby."

"I'm not tired," he laughed while making fun of Iris a little.

"Then we'll watch a movie," She rubbed his shoulder and they all went into their room, the bed was big enough and Iris was small enough so they all fit comfortably. They turned on Iris's favorite movie and snuggled together with Iris laying on him and his wife's head on his chest, cuddled into his side. He had an arm around each of them and Iris dozed off quickly. He smiled down at both of them, so blissfully content at the life he built for himself he never even thought possible.

"My two best girls," he whispered and leaned down to kiss both of their heads.

"You're forgetting one." A voice groggily whispered into his chest.

"I thought you were sleeping and we don't know that yet."

"I was. And yes we do, it's definitely a girl. I feel it."

"You do?"

"You don't?" she asked cockily and he sat with it for a moment.

"I do," he whispered back and she giggled before burying herself deeper into him and the blankets.

"Goodnight, I love you, and our family, so much." She kissed him goodnight before adjusting the blankets over all three (four) of them.

"I love you, and Tiny, and Teeny Tiny, so much."

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gloryhrs · 1 year ago

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⟡ 𝓒𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝓢𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ━━ 「 Shinji Hirako. 」

✿.*･｡ ꒰ black male reader, high school au!, reader & shinji are both 18/3rd years in highschool, delinquent! shinji (he smokes weed & is a lil mean lol), shinji & hiyori are related, smut (?) at the end idk, shinji is also extremely obsessed w/the reader (real), ah this took me so long (∩´﹏`∩) i don’t know if i’m going to keep it up for long, click 4 art creds! ꒱

ʚɞ ��୨୧⋆｡˚ SHINJI Hirako, 10, wiped the imaginary sweat from his brow. Today is the day he confesses to his best friend, Y/n L/n. His mother and yours had been good friends since high school, which explained why you and he were like two peas in a pod, having known each other since infancy. Shinji couldn't have asked for a better best friend than you; you both slept over at each other's houses daily, played video games, watched horror movies, and snacked on sweets all weekend. When you spent time with him, his heart began to race, his palms sweated, and his cheeks turned a vivid shade of crimson, indicating that he had strange feelings for you. Because of your kindness and the way you care for him, his affection for you grew stronger by the day. His younger sister, Hiyori, used to mock him and label him a coward for not being able to express himself to you, but that will change today!

When he spotted you walking out of the classroom with Kensei and Love, aka your bodyguards, he tightened his grip on the small box of chocolate and flowers. Instead of standing in the center of the hallway, he carefully worked his way up to the youthful group of boys. He observed as you stopped chatting to the boys and focused on him walking, making him much more nervous than before. "Hi, Shinji!" You smiled and waved at your blonde-haired best friend, who looked like he was about to pass out. Kensei and Love turned to look at the sweets and flowers in the boy's hand. He handed the flowers and chocolates out to you with his head lowered before any of them could say anything. "H-Hi Y/n! Please go out on a date with me! You’re the coolest, kindest, and sweetest person I’ve ever met! I promise you won’t be sorry!" His voice cracked at nearly every word, leading Kensei to cover his mouth to stifle the laughter. Love sighed and turned his head in the opposite direction, attempting to erase the scene he just saw.

When Kensei began to snicker at him, you frowned and lightly smacked the back of his head. "Shin, don't be so shy; I've known you for years. And, of course, I'll go with you!" You took the box and flowers from his hands as the dumbbells on his shoulders rolled off with ease, which meant his nervousness was disappearing. He quickly got up and straightened his posture with a bright smile on his face. Before he could form his next sentence, a set of lips that belonged to you brushed across his cheek. Making him lose all sense and turn as red as a tomato. "We should ask our moms to take us to that new arcade you talked about!" You told him as he nodded mindlessly with a silly grin on his lips. "Yeah, we enjoy arcades." His voice cracked once more, this time making you giggle. Both Kensei and Love curved their heads to the side as they witnessed the sight. "Oh, brother! Look for a classroom." Kensei fake gagged as Love sighed, realizing beforehand that this blossoming relationship was most likely going to be a problem in the future.

ʚɞ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ AND Love was completely correct. If he believed Shinji was in love with you in elementary and middle school, he had no idea what was in store for him after everyone entered high school. By this point, everyone knew Shinji was obsessed with you. From having your name tattooed on his forearm and finger to having your initials pierced in his ear, having you as his lock screen and home screen, and owning an I Heart My Boyfriend shirt somewhere in his closet, he's got it all. He's also your biggest fan! From his frequent appearances at your games, he is usually the loudest one in the bleachers, holding a poster. Being the one to carry you and your belongings when it's time to leave, as well as ordering takeout for you and him for the night. Shinji was the greatest boyfriend! No one could tell you otherwise. Most classmates assumed you threw a spell on the blonde, but it turns out he was just in love.

The sound of laughter was the only thing that could be heard from the janitor’s closet. The laughter belonging to you and Shinji, who dragged you in there the moment he saw you in the hall. "Shin, we’re going to be late for class." You murmured as your boyfriend proceeded to kiss your lips, ignoring the fact that not only you would be late but he as well. The small space of the janitor's closet is causing him to press you against the wall, with him lifting your thigh till it reaches his waist. "It doesn't matter if you don't turn up. Plus, I missed you." His pierced tongue dragged across your soft, ebony skin while his lips whispered into the crook of your neck. You ran your fingers through his soft golden hair. "I've missed you too, which is why I'm here. So that I can see you." You sighed. This is what happens when you separate yourself from him for longer than a day. He’ll turn into a baby crying for its mama.

"I barely see you now because you've been so caught up with volleyball and those damn club activities. I thought you forgot about me." He scoffed, his gaze now fixed on yours. You've participated in almost every club and sport since the first year of high school. That's why you were so popular. You gently smiled as you placed both hands on his cheeks, bringing him in for another kiss. "You know I can never forget about you, baby. Plus, I'm free today. This week, Rose, Lisa, and Love are in charge of the clubs. And I don’t have practice until next week." You grinned while playing with his several ear piercings, your initials dangling from his right lobe in gold and diamonds.

Shinji's eyes instantly lit up as he flashed his well-known smile, displaying his gorgeous pearly whites. "And yes, we can finally play that new street fighter game you were talking about." You pecked his cheeks as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, getting a good whiff of your scent before signing. "Mhmm, I love you. Also, you smell so fuckin' good. Like freshly baked cookies mixed with cocoa butter. It makes me want to eat you." He murmured, never letting his smile go. His sweet but strong aroma invaded your nostrils as you chuckled and buried your face in his shoulder. "I love you too, Shin. You smell like vanilla cupcakes with a hint of weed. Which you most likely smoked during lunch." He laughed and drew his face away from your neck. You could read him like a picture book. "Oops." He gave you his signature smirk, his hands trailing from your waist to one of his favorite parts of your body.

"Shin, don't let them find you smoking on school grounds. They almost sent you to detention for three months the last time you were caught." You scolded your partner, who was rolling his eyes. Because of that wet floor prank he committed in his first year, which resulted in the principal injuring his back, the staff were utter jerks to him. "Keyword, almost! My wonderful boyfriend bailed me out and convinced them to shorten my sentence." He kissed your cheek, and because you were one of the school's favorite students, you persuaded the administration to ease up on your nutty boyfriend's punishment. They eventually reduced his sentence from three months to one week of cleaning duties.

"But in all seriousness, I’m so lucky you’re my boyfriend. Everything about you is so perfect that sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if I hadn’t confessed. Just looking at you drives me insane." He whispered, now placing his hands on your ass and gently sucking on the flesh with his lips against your neck. You sighed and tilted your head back, feeling yourself fall into his trap but swiftly snapping out of it. "Shin, don't start again." You bit your lip to keep the stream of noises from coming out, knowing that if you made a sound, he wouldn't stop. He groaned, "Oh, come on. If we stay a little longer, I can show you what else my tongue piercing can do." He ran his hands up your button-up shirt, making you shiver under his cold fingers. You felt your cheeks become hot at the sentence; you knew him for over a decade and still couldn’t get used to his flirtatious demeanor.

"Maybe later, but we have to go now." You pulled away while adjusting your black-framed glasses. It takes some time for the burning sensation on your cheeks to fade away. Shinji followed behind as you opened the door, which revealed the familiar set of teenagers. Shinji put his arm around your shoulder and glared at the group, specifically Ichigo. Ichigo rolled his eyes, and Orihime waved as Uryu and Chad turned their heads away from the couple. Keigo's cheeks flushed a deep scarlet, his mouth dropping from pair. He was undoubtedly thinking negatively. "Eh? What the hell are you guys doing outside the door waiting for?" You whacked Shinji's arm as he swore at the gathering of first-year students. Ichigo scoffed at the man with blonde hair who stuck his tongue out and stuck the middle finger from behind your head.

"Are you blind? We're here to put these supplies up! But, of course, you're absent from class!" The Kurosaki argued back with the third year, who was grinding his teeth together, trying to keep back a torrent of vulgarities and insults. "What on earth were you two doing in the closet?" Keigo asked, his curiosity (and nosiness) getting the best of him. "What did you think we were doing?! Picking fucking daisies?!" He snapped at the youngster, who shrieked and hid behind Chad. Keigo's eyes widened as his cheeks blushed again, putting two and two together. You sighed and pinched your boyfriend's cheek, inflicting pain on him. "I'm sorry about him. We're already late, Shinji, so let's go." You waved farewell to the teens and tugged on his arm as he followed, not before turning around and flashing the middle finger at Ichigo, who quickly returned the gesture.

"I can’t believe L/n-san is dating someone like him." Ichigo grimaced at the sight of the male, who grinned and pulled you closer to him while giving multiple kisses to your lips, not caring about the students walking by. "They’re so cute! From what I heard, they’ve been in a relationship since elementary school!" Orihime squealed at the couple, and Keigo's mouth dropped to the floor. Elementary school?! He remembered when all the girls ran away from him on the playground. How could someone like you date a delinquent like Shinji? "Huh?! Is that why he’s so obsessed with L/N? I wish someone loved me like that." Crocodile tears streamed down his face as he looked at the couple. "Maybe because you’re a weirdo." "WHAT?!"

"Babe, why did you do that." Shinji massaged his reddish cheek while pouting. "I warned you about cursing at the first years, Shin." You just stated, as he sneered and rolled his eyes, this wasn't his first time in trouble for yelling or cursing at a group of students. He still remembered how the majority of them accused him of insulting them, which resulted in him being thrown in detention. "Are we going to your house today?" You changed the subject because you didn't want to hear his complaints. "Yeah, my mom is working the night shift, and Hiyori is staying at Mashiro's. So we can have as much fun as we want." You didn't have to look at him to notice the type of smile he wore as he leaned into your ear.

"You’re right, we can have fun all night." Your fingertips brushed against his exposed collarbones as you moved your hand up his chest. "But if you could just do one thing for me, please." As your hand moved to caress his cheek, you grinned. Shinji nodded while becoming utterly hypnotized. "If you don't make any more trouble today, I'll give you anything you want." Your minty breath fanned over his lips as your lips brushed against his. Shinji nodded his head again after taking a quick look at your lips. Knowing that the only way to persuade him to behave properly is to bring something to the table, you hummed and pulled him into a kiss.

ʚɞ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ "FINALLY, I'm done." Shinji sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. He clicked the x to close each tab while complaining. He put the joint to his lips while leaning back on the headboard and proceeded to doze off while gazing at his roof, the music playing from the speakers lulling him into a trance. When he heard the bathroom door open, he turned his attention away from the roof and watched as you emerged from the room wearing just a shirt. His eyes studied your physique, revealing just how much those workouts altered your body. You chuckled at your partner, who was virtually stripping you down with his eyes, when you heard the wolf whistle from across the room. "Nice thighs, babe." He smiled at you as you took off the shower cap from your hair and showed him your h/c locs, which were no longer pulled into a ponytail.

"Thank you, baby. Did you finish your homework?" You slipped into the bed as he blew out the smoke, his half-lidded eyes peering back into yours. "Mhmm, now come sit on my lap." He patted his lap with the same grin on his face. When you got into his lap, his hand grabbed your waist and pulled you closer until your chest touched his. Shinji's half-lidded eyes scanned your features; your beautiful e/c eyes were enough to put him in another trance. Not to mention how your h/c locs and the golden jewelry swayed with every movement you made. In his eyes, no one was as beautiful as you. "My boyfriend is so pretty." He muttered, his hand resting on your thigh and letting the flesh seep through his fingers. "Mine is too." You beamed, your hands running past his tank top to feel his toned chest.

"Gimme a kiss." He grinned and placed the joint on the tray, now gripping your ass with both hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in. Once your plump lips met his, he pushed his tongue past your lips. Allowing him to explore the damp cavern, the subtle taste of bubblegum toothpaste lured him closer. He groaned when he felt your ass against his clothed cock. From the way you rocked back and forth on his lap, you were completely aware of what you were doing. "Mhmm." You moaned when he began to rock your hips against his rising boner; his mouth completely absorbed the rest of your sinful sounds. When he pulled away from the kiss, you whimpered while he grinned and gently pushed you down onto the mattress. The blonde took the joint and pressed it to his lips, chuckling at his boyfriend, who squirmed on the mattress. "S–Shin please." You called out to your lover as you rubbed your thighs together, yearning for friction since he had stopped.

Shinji put the stick down and crawled between your legs after deciding to listen to your pleading. "Please what baby?" He sucked on your neck with a sideways tilt of his head and a smirk on his lips. The smell of brown sugar drove him to lick and suck every area of your neck, and he could feel himself growing drunk on your trademark scent. When you wrapped your legs around his waist and yanked on his golden locks, he let out a moan. "I-I need you right now." You exhale, the cold metal on your skin making you quiver. Shinji chuckled and drew away from your neck, exposing the dark marks he'd produced on your flesh. He bit his lip and placed his fingers around your neck as he felt himself becoming harder at the sight. His slim fingers gripped the sides of it, causing you to choke on your moans.

"So pretty." He muttered as he removed your shirt, exposing your beautiful dark brown skin. His fingertips skimmed across your beautiful skin before brushing against your nipples, causing you to tilt your head back. "A little sensitive, aren’t you?" He questioned, his thumb and index finger rolling over the sensitive bud while sucking on the other. "O-Oh, Shinji." As he continued to suck on the delicate flesh, you fisted his hair when he tugged on the bud before flicking it off with his tongue. Shinji rutted his hips against yours once more after hearing you say moan his name countless of times. "Shin, p–please kiss me." You exhaled through the moans as he lifted his head from your chest, smirking as he observed your dazed expression.

When his lips made contact with yours, he pushed past your luscious lips. As he groaned against the warmth of your lips, his hands explored your thighs once more. He couldn't get over the smooth tenderness of your lips, no matter how many times he kissed you. His saliva tasted like the sweets he had recently eaten. You both kissed each other as though one of you was going to vanish at any moment. You whimpered as he broke away, missing the feel of his lips. His lustful gaze returned to your needy ones. When he noticed you pouting, he sucked his teeth. "What exactly is it now?" He sighed. You were always so damn whiny when you got worked up. "Can you take your s–shirt off? Please?" You pulled on the fabric that covered his torso, concealing the other tattoos as well. Shinji's eyes softened, and he said, "Of course, baby." He yanked off the tank top and tossed it across the room.

He witnessed as your eyes sparkled at the sight of his chest, your fingertips brushing against the tattoos on his torso. "Do you like what you see?" He teased you as you nodded mindlessly, your gaze fixed on his chest, notably his nipple piercings. "Take off your pants, too." Shinji raised an eyebrow when you spoke to him. What? The way you talked to him gave the impression that he had already fucked your head up. He took both of your hands and pinned them above your head, making you squirm at his gaze. "What's the magic word, sweets?" He asked, his other hand clasping around your neck once more. You poked your lips out while making your infamous puppy eyes at him. "Please?" You tilted your head, giving it a more innocent appearance.

"Good boy. You won’t be needing these anymore." He slapped your thigh before tearing your underwear off, causing you to gasp as cold air hit your cock. When he reached down to the waistline of his sweatpants and teasingly tugged at the fabric, you bit your lip. Shinji laughed again when he heard your whining. "Please, hurry up." You whispered, your mouth watering. Shinji finally decided to stop his taunting and removed his sweatpants and underwear. "O-Oh my," you spoke unconsciously, leaving you in awe of his glory. His gaze moved down your body, stopping on your member that begged to be stroked. "Would you take a look at that? Someone is quite eager." He teased, making you cover your face with your hands.

"Don't look away, baby; let me see that pretty face of yours." He pulled your hands off your face and repeatedly pecked your lips. Even though this wasn't the first time you had seen Shinji naked or stripped off in front of him, it always made you shy. Before taking you and his cock and holding them in one hand, Shinji gave you one final kiss on the lips. His hands felt so amazing on yours that you softly moaned when they made contact with your erection. You both made a series of moans as soon as he started moving his hand. The unfamiliar sensation was like bliss. "Shit, this felt better than last time." Shinji cursed as he watched the gorgeous look on your face transform into unbearable pleasure. From the looks of it, this was going to be a long night for you both.

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