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#im violently angry like im shaking
strangertheories · 7 months
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What happened to Melissa is BEYOND fucked up! I guess this is what advocating against COLONIALISM and MURDER gets you. This is sick.
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doodlboy · 6 months
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I need to draw something for a visceral emotion but every time I do it doesn't look enough like that emotion
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captn-lovelace · 7 months
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called my congressman at a town hall meeting to ask how he can justify the genocide of Palestinians and he berated me for a full 3 minutes about how I don’t know anything and then said hamas is coming over our border so we need to build a wall
i was the only one who called in with a dissenting opinion. i was also the only one not allowed to say anything following his answer to my question. everyone else got to say a couple sentences of follow up. so my question ended up just being a time for him to spread propaganda with no pushback and talk about how it’s ok to kill civilians if they’re being used as human shields
i didn’t really expect more, but at least i hoped he would be more civil toward a constituent from his hometown
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stevie-petey · 3 months
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episode eight: the gate
“Drop me and die.” Your knuckles are white as they clutch the rope, your body shaking with exhaustion as you try to ease your way down without further injuring your ribs.  Steve laughs and tightens his grip on your waist, steadying you as you finally inch the rest of the way down and land with a gentle thud onto the ground. “Like I’d ever dream of letting you go.” This time, you know it’s his words that cause you to shiver, not the exhaustion and pain.
Summary: you encourage nancy to take your place (everyone is shocked), you and steve are the newest babysitters in town, billy ruins things as always, tunnels are weird when youre concussed, you remind jonathan of an old promise, and when the snowball comes you make your own promise with steve that you know you can keep.
Rating: general, although very violent
Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, intense violence and blood, weapons, monsters, probably more im forgetting
Words: 20.1k (no one speak to me)
Before you swing in: this is it ,,, the final episode of season two <3 this chapter was both the easiest and hardest one ive ever written. there are scenes in here that i put so much into, and im so proud of where everything landed. handling so many relationships and dynamics was so incredibly difficult, but i adore where they ended up. i hope you guys do, too :)
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“Eleven,”
“Mike.”
The two kids embrace, Mike holding desperately onto El as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again any second, and she’s holding onto him just as tightly as their tears mix together. 
You watch them with a hand over your heart, your own tears spilling over. You can’t believe this is real, that El is standing in Mike’s arms alive and real.
The way they cling to each other brings more tears to your eyes. It’s obvious to everyone how much they love one another. You think about the endless batches of brownies you baked for Mike, how many nights you spent in his basement standing watch, looking for any sign of grief, in case he needed you there to remind him that it’s okay to cry. 
“Is that…?” Max asks Lucas, and he nods. 
“She’s back.” You exhale, feeling Dustin’s fingers slip between yours. He knows how much you missed El, he’s spent just as many nights keeping watch over you, reminding you to cry as well. 
Mike pulls away, his eyes shining with tears. “I never gave up on you. I called you every night. Every night for–”
“353 days.” El finishes for him, you’ve never heard so much emotion in her voice. “I heard.”
You think about the nights you found Mike huddled underneath the fort he once built for El in his basement, clutching the radio to his chest, passed out from exhaustion. You never mentioned it to the boy, knowing he’d simply deny and tell you it was nothing, but hearing El confirm what you already knew still hurts. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you were there?” 
You look around the room now, wondering the same as Mike, and then your eyes land on Hopper. While everyone looks surprised or confused at El’s reappearance, Hopper’s face is one of resignation. 
Everything clicks. 
He knew.
Hopper sees that you’ve pieced it together and steps forward. “Because I wouldn’t let her.”
You step forward as well so that you’re next to Mike, knowing that this will only upset him more. “You knew.”
“What the hell is this?” The chief ignores you, now speaking only to El. “Where’ve you been?”
“Where have you been?” El’s eyes darken, but she immediately melts when Hopper pulls her into a hug. By watching their body language, you can tell that they love each other dearly, and distantly you remember hearing about the daughter Hopper once had. 
Though you’re angry he hid El from you, you’re thankful they found one another in the end. You’ve never seen Hopper so tender with someone, and El seems to feel safe within his embrace, far from the skittish girl you found in the woods last year. 
“You’ve been hiding her!” Lost in your thoughts, you momentarily forget about Mike, who launches himself at Hopper and punches the man’s chest. “You’ve been hiding her this whole time!”
Hopper flinches away. “Hey–”
“Mike,” you grab his shoulders, knowing his anger will only do more harm than good, but he struggles against you as he tries to continue hitting the man. “We can all talk about this–”
“Let’s talk,” Hopper grabs at Mike’s shirt, finally forcing the kid to stop. Then, looking directly at you, he adds. “Alone.”
You look at Mike, silently asking him what he needs from you. You know the two of them need to settle their differences, that he feels Hopper’s betrayal the deepest and you trust him to make his own choices. However, with one headshake from him, you would prevent Mike from being alone with Hopper in a heartbeat. 
Mike knows this, he doesn’t have to even have to ask what you mean when you gently nod your chin at him. Taking a deep breath, the boy sighs and nods at you, indicating that he’ll talk with the cop. 
You let go of Mike and gently push him towards Hopper. “He’s all yours, but try not to kill him, please? I unfortunately like the kid.”
Hopper doesn’t play into your words and promptly grabs the back of Mike’s hoodie and marches him towards Will’s room. The door closes behind them, leaving you to deal with El.
Her nose is bleeding and she looks upset having Mike taken from her, there’s an exhaustion behind her eyes that you’re all too familiar with. You wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into you. “C’mere, sweetheart.”
El leans into the kiss you press upon her cheek and closes her eyes, relishing in the tenderness after the night she’s had. “Missed you.”
“And I missed you.” You place another kiss on her head. “The hairstyle suits you, by the way.”
This seems to lighten the girl up a bit, who giggles and quietly thanks you as she wraps her arms fully around you now, securing you into a hug. You allow her all the time she needs to collect herself. 
When you hear Mike’s heartbroken screams at Hopper, calling him a liar, you squeeze your arms tighter around El. “They’ll be fine,” you promise her, feeling the need to reassure her of this, though hearing Mike’s screams breaks your heart.
You understand why Hopper hid El, it wasn’t safe for anyone to know about her being alive, but Mike spent the entire year grieving for her. He lost a year of his childhood mourning the loss of a close friend, of someone he loves, and it isn’t fair to expect him to accept this. 
El nods at your reassurance before you’re suddenly shoved away from her. 
“You’re hogging the former dead girl, Y/N!” Dustin exclaims as he engulfs El into a hug. 
Lucas flashes you an apologetic smile before hugging the girl as well, focusing his attention on her. “We missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She responds, squeezing both boys tight. 
“We talked about you pretty much every day.” Dustin pulls away before pointing at you. “Y/N usually just cried.”
You elbow your brother, causing him to wince. “You say that like I don’t normally cry over things.”
Dustin opens his mouth to argue, but suddenly El’s fingers are pinching at his lips as she pries his jaw open. Your brother looks at you in alarm, and you’re too stunned to do anything besides watch in bewilderment. 
“Teeth.” El finally says,
You giggle, while Dustin simply stares at her as if she’s insane. “What?”
“You have teeth.”
Dustin breaks into a smile. “Oh, you like these pearls?”
When he makes an obscure purring sound with his mouth, you scoff at your brother and roll your eyes alongside Lucas. “Please, never do that ever again.”
“Eleven?” Max now approaches with a warm smile on her face, the most open you’ve ever seen the girl, and extends her hand for El to shake. “Hey, um. I’m Max. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
El looks at you and tilts her head, which you assume means she’s unsure what to do, so you step in. “Max is a friend, sweetheart.”
She eyes Max’s hand, looks up at her again, before bypassing the girl completely and going straight into Joyce’s arms.
You frown, confused by El’s unusual dismissiveness, and look over at Max. Her head is ducked down, embarrassed, and you make a mental note to remind yourself later to ask El what happened. Max is a good girl, they deserve to be friends and you know they’d get along if given the chance.
Joyce cradles El’s head and greets her with tears, and the girl responds the same. After they’ve hugged, El pulls away, her tears now ones of worry. “Can I see him?”
Joyce’s eyes flash to you, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing: it’s no coincidence that El arrived when she did. You think about what Dustin and the kids deciphered in morse code, Will’s hidden message. 
Close the gate. 
El is the only person you know can do it. 
“Go take her to him,” you tell Joyce. “I’ll catch everyone else up.”
The woman nods, her eyes appreciative, before gently guiding El towards Will’s room. 
“I’m assuming I’m ‘everyone’.” Steve says as soon as Joyce and El have left. 
You laugh, finally rejoining his side. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Alright, catch me up then. Who was the girl and why does she have a bloody nose problem?”
“Her name is Eleven, or El. Besides the Demogorgon, and Demodogs, did we ever discuss El?”
Nancy speaks up from the corner, timid. “I, uh… Didn’t tell Steve a lot. We kinda just, we–we didn’t ever really–”
“I never let Nancy explain, and I was too afraid to ask.” Steve kindly saves Nancy, and something both you and Jonathan take note of. 
“Well,” you clap your hands, dispelling away any remaining tension for both your sake and the kids’ sakes. “El has these powers, she can make things move with her mind, and when she uses them she gets nose bleeds.”
Steve stares at you. “Okay…”
“Mhm. It’s just as insane as it sounds. Remember the whole Upside Down story Dustin and I told you about yesterday? Well, she can travel there and has a connection to it. With her mind. Somehow. I don’t actually know the logistics of it.”
“You’re doing great, bug.” Jonathan’s voice drips with sarcasm, but Dustin hits his chest to shut him up. 
“Thanks, Dustin. Anyways, El has these insane powers and she’s the sweetest, softest person I’ve ever met. We…” your voice trails off now, still getting used to the fact that she’s alive. “We thought we lost her last year, when she killed the Demogorgon and helped bring Will back.”
“But she’s alive.” Steve concludes. 
You nod, a natural smile spreading across your face. “She is.”
“If you say she’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met, then I definitely believe you.”
Steve’s words make you blush, the pure and honest way he says them, and both Dustin and Jonathan cringe. The two boys share a look, both for once on the same page in a long time, and make gagging motions. 
You see this and flick both of their heads. “I know where you both sleep.”
Both boys stick their tongue out at you, and for a moment everything feels normal. Jonathan and Dustin are teasing you, Jonathan’s eyes are lit up, and your brother is carefree again. 
Then Joyce returns to the living room with El and the mood becomes somber again. 
They stand over the kitchen table, El stares down at the piece of paper with the “close gate” on it, and Joyce asks the question you’ve all been wondering. “You opened this gate before, right?”
“Yes,” the girl responds as you and everyone else now join her and Joyce. 
“Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?”
El looks between you and Joyce, her gaze stony and resigned. You wonder what else she’s gone through to put such a void within her; like all the other kids, she no longer has a sweet naivety to her.
Then, slowly, El nods. 
– 
“It’s not like it was before. It’s grown. A lot.” Everyone stands in the kitchen, circling around Hopper as he explains exactly what the gate now is. “I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”
You grab Dustin’s shirt and yank harshly at it. “Don’t you dare–”
“Demodogs.”
Hopper looks at him, sighing. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Please just ignore him.” You plead with the officer, knowing he’s already in a bitchy mood. 
Dustin doesn’t pick up on the anger, though. “I said, uh… Demodogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, rubbing at your temples. You’ve heard this explanation of the word play a million times within the last twenty-four hours. If you have to hear Dustin explain what Demodog means one more time, you think you may murder the kid.
Dustin, unfortunately, continues. “You put them together… it sounds pretty badass–”
“How is this important right now?” Hopper snaps at the boy, which only makes you more annoyed. 
You put your hand up at the old man, closing your fingers together to mimic a mouth being shut. “One more aggressive comment to the thirteen year old and I will show you that Nancy isn’t the only one who can shoot a gun.”
“Uh, Y/N…” Jonathan nervously mumbles, unsure what Hopper’s reaction may be. 
However, the chief simply raises an eyebrow at you, stares you down for a few seconds, before finally seeming to decide that he’s impressed with your bold comment. “I’ll make sure to remember that.”
“I can do it.” El suddenly voices from the other end of the table.
“You’re not hearing me.” Hopper’s shoulders slump. You can tell by his now defeated stance that he has yet to win an argument against El, something that you’re incredibly proud of her for. 
“I’m hearing you. I can do it.”
“Even if El can, there’s still another problem.” Mike speaks up, looking around the table to ensure everyone is listening. “If the brain dies, the body dies.”
Max frowns. “I thought that was the whole point.”
“It is, but if we’re really right about this…”
“Will,” you breathe out quietly with dread, understanding where Mike is going with this.
Mike continues explaining. “I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army–”
“Will’s a part of that army.” Lucas finishes as he looks over at you, now knowing why you’ve just exhaled the boy’s name with grief. 
“Closing the gate will kill him.” 
Jonathan tenses at Mike’s words, and you place your hand against the back of his neck in a grounding manner. You can feel his rapid heartbeat against your hand, even from this position, and you play with his hair to try and soothe him. 
He’s terrified of what may happen to his little brother, once again struck with pure terror that he could lose him. You’re not sure how many more times Jonathan can grieve his brother without losing a piece of himself.
Steve, standing on your other side, sees the way your fingers intertwine in Jonathan’s hair. The same way they did earlier with his own hair as you hugged him.
He frowns, looking away. 
Everyone else falls silent as well, Mike’s words hang in the air. Your gaze shifts to Joyce, who has a deep frown on her face, and before you ask her what she’s thinking, she stands up from the table. “Follow me.”
No one says anything as you all follow the woman to Jonathan’s room, where Will lays motionless on top of the bed you’ve slept in for years. His body is stiff, the hospital gown swallows him, and the sight disturbs you. 
You walk over to the boy and kneel next to the bed. It’s in your nature to take care of Will, you do this without even thinking about it. Stroking his forehead, you place a kiss against it as you watch his mom in the doorway.
“He likes it cold.” Joyce mumbles, eying the open window in the room. 
“What?” Asks Hopper, standing behind the woman. 
Joyce looks over at her son now. “It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” Then, as her voice grows stronger, she walks over to the window and slams it shut. “We keep giving it what it wants.”
Nancy and Jonathan walk over to you now, the girl remains standing while Jonathan kneels down next to you. The two of you take turns caressing Will’s forehead as Nancy starts to speak. “If this thing is a virus, and Will’s the host, then…”
“Then we need to make the host uninhabitable.” 
You turn to Jonathan, not at all liking what he’s saying. “What does that even mean? He’s a kid, how do you make a child’s body uninhabitable?”
“He likes it cold.” Nancy says, as if that explains everything. 
“But–”
Joyce clenches her jaw and spits out, “We need to burn it out of him.”
Everything about what Joyce has said makes your stomach twist. You look down at Will’s body, at how small he still is despite a year of trying to get him to recover, and his pale skin is almost translucent in the bedroom’s lighting. 
You hate everything about what’s happening, but you hate the way Will looks lifeless even more. 
If making his body uninhabitable can save him, then you have to try; you’ll simply be there to pick up the pieces when it’s done, as you always are. 
The kids begin planning now.
“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time.” Mike says. 
“Yeah, somewhere far away.” Dustin adds on. 
“Last I checked, none of us have a hidden hut in the woods.” You say, at a loss for where else to possibly take Will. Then, Hopper clears his throat and shifts his weight. “Oh, no fucking way. You would have a hidden hut in the woods.”
“It’s a cabin.” Hopper corrects with annoyance, though there’s a slight glint in his eye as he looks at you. “Joyce and Jonathan will take Will there.”
“Well, go show them the cabin, then.”
Jonathan grabs your hand. “You’re not coming with?”
As if there’s a string tugging at the back of your head, you turn around and catch Steve’s eye. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes alert yet sad, and you know with everything within you that you can’t leave him behind. 
Not when he was shaking in your arms only twenty minutes prior. 
Steve doesn’t want to be alone, especially not when you’d be leaving him behind with Nancy after it’s become clear that she’s with Jonathan now. 
Now, as Jonathan’s open and expecting eyes stare into yours, you do something you’ve never done before. Something you’ve needed to do ever since you were twelve and grabbed the boy’s hand on the Wheeler’s porch that fateful night.
You let go of Jonathan. 
“I can’t,” you tell him, the words of denial feeling foreign on your tongue. You’ve never told him no before, never left him behind, but saying the words isn’t as difficult as you once feared. “I’ll stay with the kids, I’m better with them anyways.”
Jonathan watches you, his eyes trace over your face again and again as if drinking it in for the very last time. When he seems to find what he’s looking for, he takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, okay.”
His understanding of everything you don’t say almost makes you take it all back, but you don’t. Instead, you squeeze his hand and nod towards Nancy. “Why don’t you take Nance?”
Something shifts when you say this, you know Jonathan feels it as well. There’s an ease within the shift, almost akin to a soft exhale in December’s cold. It parts you with a gentle farewell, strokes your cheek as it departs, and you can faintly see its outline as it floats away. 
A thread, one that has tugged within your chest in a painful ache since last year, finally loosens. 
Nancy looks at you, her eyes wide. “Me?”
“Mhm,” you nod at the girl, a kind smile on your face. 
It’s a monumental shift, you’re willingly encouraging Nancy to be next to Jonathan’s side rather than you. It’s an exchange of powers, trusting her to take care of the boy you love so dearly. 
For once, it doesn’t feel like you’re tearing off a piece of yourself. Instead, you’re simply sharing the weight of it, of this trust, rather than losing it.
“I… I think I’ll stay here.” Nancy finally says, looking away in shame.
You don’t blame her, you know she carries a weight of guilt within her for things she couldn’t control. There’s a lot you want to say to her, a lot you have to say to her, but for now you simply nod at her, understanding. “Then I’m happy you’re here.”
And you mean it.
Steve, still quietly standing in the doorway, sees everything. He felt the shift, too.
– 
“You should go with him.” Steve picks up a spare heater, he and Nancy have been sent outside to retrieve whatever they could find from the Byers’ yard. 
The shift weighs heavily upon him. Your words ring in his ears. 
Nancy spares Steve a glance. “What?”
“With Jonathan.” He bends down to dig through some old Christmas lights, and seeing them reminds him of you. Everything reminds him of you. “Y/N’s right. You should go with him.”
“No, I–” Nancy scoffs, uncomfortable. “I’m not just gonna leave Mike.”
Steve thinks about you, about how you’re always the one who stays. “No one’s leaving anyone.” He walks over to Nancy and helps her with a radiator she’s struggling with. “I may be a shitty boyfriend, but… I realized I’m actually a pretty damn good friend and babysitter.”
Though he never says your name, Nancy can feel it hang over the two of them. The unspoken confession that it’s because of you that Steve now accepts what has happened between them. It strikes her then, how different he is now. How differently you and the girl came to know Steve.
Nancy stares at him, her eyes are filled with more remorse than he’s ever seen from the girl. It hurts, seeing her so upset, and he wishes that things could’ve been different. He recognizes now that they didn’t stand a chance, though he’s happy they tried anyways. It was always going to end like this between them.
Steve doesn’t hold any anger towards her, he doesn’t hate her, because he still loves her. 
How could you possibly fault the person you love for finding their own love?
“Steve…” His name comes through as an apology.
“It’s okay, Nance.” Steve means it, he gives her the same blessing that you did. She’s allowed to be happy, you both want her to be happy, and you have each other to lean on now. “Y/N and I will be okay.”
He leaves Nancy standing there.
– 
You’re waiting to say goodbye to El, standing patiently behind Mike as the two of them make promises about coming back. It’s sweet, watching them, until they slowly start to lean in for what you fear is a kiss, so you intervene. 
“Hate to ruin the moment, but I’d like to say goodbye to El, too.”
Mike glares at you. “Couldn’t wait five seconds?”
“A five second kiss is shameful, Wheeler.”
El giggles softly and pulls you into a hug. “I will be careful.”
You kiss her cheek. “Come back this time, okay?”
“I will.” 
Hopper calls the girl over to get in the car so they can leave, and you quickly run over to Jonathan’s car before he can get in. 
When he sees you approaching, he extends his arms out and pulls you in as he always does. No words are needed, he simply holds you so that you’re chest to chest and he can feel every breath you take. “I’ll come home to you.”
You bury your face in his neck, inhale the scent you’ve come to associate with your childhood and warm, sunny days. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” 
The words ease between the two of you, finally warm after months of being cold. 
Nancy then appears, and when you notice her you break away from Jonathan. “I see you’re joining?”
“I am.” She nods. “Seems I have you to thank.”
You smile and grab her hand. Your grip is firm, but sincere. “Don’t make me regret it, okay?”
Your words are teasing, but Nancy senses the undertones of a warning. Jonathan is your best friend, she has always known this, and she knows how much weight has gone into your trust for her. Nancy understands that you’re giving her something precious to you, and she will forever be indebted for it. 
“I won’t.” She promises. “And good luck with Steve and the kids.”
“Oh, I’ll need it.” You laugh, and any remaining tension that has hung over you and Nancy finally disappears. 
Once Jonathan and Nancy get into the car, you stand on the porch with Steve and everyone else as you watch the cars drive away. 
– 
 You poke around the Byers’ kitchen for some food; your stomach has been rumbling for hours and you’re sure the kids are hungry, too. However, like usual, you come up with nothing. As you dig through a cabinet, Dustin walks into the kitchen and starts clearing out the fridge. 
“What are you doing?” You ask, knowing that this can’t be for anything good. 
Dustin doesn’t answer, continuing to carelessly throw racks of food onto the floor.
“Hey, stop!” As you walk over, Steve suddenly comes rushing in, holding a very dead, and very disgusting, Demodog. 
“Is this really necessary?”
“Absolutely not.” 
Dustin groans at you. “C’mon, Y/N! This is absolutely necessary, it’s a groundbreaking scientific discovery.”
“It is a dead creature, from an alternate universe–” 
“We can’t just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It’s not a dog–”
“Oh, so now it’s not a dog after you’ve stated a million times that it’s a Demodog–”
Steve steps in between you and Dustin. “Alright, alright, enough!” He begins to shove the Demodog into the fridge before you can stop him. “But Dustin, you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers, alright?”
“You both are idiots,” you mumble, watching as Steve and Dustin pathetically try to make the giant Demodog fit into the fridge. “I’m leaving.”
You’re seriously starting to regret their friendship. 
However, you know when to pick your battles, and as you watch the two boys try to maneuver the body into the fridge, you know that this is not a cause worth fighting for. 
Instead, you exit the kitchen and instruct the rest of the kids to start cleaning the house. It’s a mess, glass shattered everywhere from the dead Demodog and papers thrown haphazardly around during the morse decoding. 
The mess will only add more unneeded stress to Joyce’s life, so as Lucas and Max groan at you for making them do work, you stand your ground and shove a broom into their hands. 
“You suck, you know.” Lucas grumbles, but Max hits his shoulder and holds the dust pan as he sweeps.
As they get to work on the shattered glass, you figure it’s best that you call your mom before you forget again. You know she’s probably worried sick about you and Dustin for disappearing so suddenly without a word. 
However, when you walk over to the wall where the phone normally is, it’s gone. 
“Hey, uh. Where did the phone go?” You ask Dustin, who has finally left the kitchen. “I need to call mom.”
“Oh, Nancy threw it when it rang. She went kinda berserk.”
You look towards where Dustin is pointing and see the phone, in fact disconnected, on the ground across the room. The sight makes you snort. “Guess she really likes throwing phones, huh?”
Your brother doesn’t understand the joke. “What?”
“Nevermind,” you shake your head. There’s no use explaining to the boy about a quick, five second moment from last year. Nancy had done the exact same thing when Steve had tried to call the cops when the Demogorgon originally attacked you. 
Dustin mumbles something about your blood loss making you delusional, but you ignore him and begin sweeping the hallway. You order him to help, and soon the two of you are cleaning the Byers’ home. 
You’ve just finished sweeping when you notice Mike pacing around the room. He’s anxious, that much is obvious, and whenever he begins to pace: trouble soon follows. He’s brewing up a plan, you can feel it. 
After the fifth time the boy has paced the room, Lucas has finally had enough. “Mike, would you just stop already?”
“You weren’t in there, okay Lucas?” Mike stops pacing. “That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.”
“Demodogs–oomph!” Dustin corrects, only to be cut off by your hand clamping over his mouth. 
“Say it again, I dare you.” You warn him before turning towards Mike. “Look, I know it’s nerve wracking, but all we can do right now is trust El’s abilities and wait.”
Lucas nods. “Yeah, the chief will also take care of her.”
“Like she needs protection.” Max quips from the floor, dustpan still in hand.
You feel a hand place itself on the small of your back. The weight of the palm is starting to become familiar to you, the length of the fingers and the way they splay across the span of your back are slowly becoming recognizable. 
Without turning, you know that Steve has joined you. 
“Listen, dude,” he says in a placating voice to Mike. “A coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. Alright?”
You wince. While you’re impressed that Steve is trying to intervene and reason with Mike, you know immediately that his approach will fail. Trying to reason with the kid using a sport analogy is like trying to explain magic to a mathematician. 
“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game.” Mike rolls his eyes, which you expected. “And second, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”
“RIght! So–so my point… My point is…” Steve stumbles over his words and Mike’s unwavering insistence. When he can’t think of a better response, he lets out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, we’re on the bench, so–uh, there’s nothing we can do.”
You pity Steve, honestly. It takes years of careful analyzing and strategic planning in order to prepare yourself for an argument against Mike Wheeler. 
Patting his shoulder, step in to help. “What I’m sure Steve means is that while we may be benched, that doesn’t mean we can’t keep the homefront secure.”
“That’s not how sports work, Y/N.” Steve whispers obscenely loud, but quickly shuts up when you glare at him.
“Stupid sports analogy aside, there’s nothing we can do besides keep watch here and wait for everyone to return.” Even though you know you’re saying the right thing, that it’s best you follow Hopper’s order of staying put, even you don’t believe the words you’re saying. “We may not be able to help right now, but later, I promise we will be the best damn homefront ever.”
Dustin clears his throat. “That’s not entirely true.”
You turn to him and a sigh escapes you when you see the plan already forming behind his eyes. “I can’t argue with you, can I?”
“Nope.”
“Great, go on then. Share with the class what you’re thinking.”
“I mean, these Demodogs, they have a hive mind.” Dustin begins. “When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”
Lucas thinks about this. “So if we get their attention…”  
“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab.” Max concludes, and you take a second to marvel at how seamlessly she’s integrated herself into the party.
However, you then remember what Lucas said. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘get their attention’? Why do those words scare me so much?”
Mike talks over you. “We can clear a path to the gate.”
You have a multitude of questions and Steve seems to be thinking exactly what you are when he loudly exclaims, “Yeah, and then we all die!”
“That’s one point of view.”
“Dustin, that’s quite literally the only way to look at it.” You flick his hat and he swats your hand away.
Steve points at you, nodding in agreement. “That’s a fact.”
“Thanks, Steve–” Mike’s body slams into yours as he runs past you. “Christ, Wheeler!”
“I got it!” The boy shrieks, running out of the room as he wordlessly instructs everyone to follow. He kneels in front of the fridge and points wildly at one of the pictures Will has drawn. “This is where the chief dug his hole, this is our way into the tunnel.”
“Into? What do you mean into?”
Mike shoves past you again and runs into the living room. “Here, right here.” He stands in the middle, where all the pictures have interlocked together to form a center. “This is like a hub. So, you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire…”
“Fire?” You shriek as Steve quickly follows with, “Oh, yeah that’s a no!”
Dustin, however, is on board with what Mike is planning. “The mind flayer would call away his army.”
“They’d all come to stop us!” Lucas waves his arms madly at you, as if saying this will get you to agree to the plan that’s forming.
You throw your hands up in surrender. “Look, I recognize that we could maybe do something–”
“Hey!” Steve looks astonished that you’re even considering this. 
“I mean, if we can help then I don’t see why we can’t just–”
Mike shakes your arm now, deciding that your hesitation is an agreement. “We then can circle back to the exit! By the time they realize we’re gone–”
“El would be at the gate!” Max now also is looking at you. “C’mon, Y/N. You have to admit that it’s a solid plan.”
You bite your lip. It is. That’s the problem with the Wheelers. They come up with these insanely dangerous and insane plans, yet they’re also always brilliant. You know it’s risky, Hopper could barely even explain the tunnels to you without shaking in fear, but… Who’s to say that the Demodogs won’t simply go after Will and Jonathan at the cabin? Or kill Hopper and El before they even reach the lab.
It’s obvious you can’t just sit here and wait. 
El has to close the gate, that much is certain, and because of this: you have to help her. You have to help everyone, keep them safe. 
“It’s a solid plan,” you finally breathe out, and all the kids start to cheer.
“I knew you were my favorite sister!”
“Dustin, I’m your only sister–”
“Hey! Hey–” Steve pushes himself in between you and the kids, clapping his hands to break up any further conversations. “Hey! This is not happening.”
Mike tries to argue, “But–”
“No, no, no!” Steve places his hands on his hips like a disgruntled father. “No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”
You don’t like the way Steve is speaking to the kids, commanding them as if he’s their parent. “Hey, no. We aren’t doing that.”
“Doing what?” He looks at you, eyes wide as he quickly gathers that he’s upset you. The fight in his voice is gone, replaced with quiet guilt.
“We don’t ever command the kids, not like that, anyways.” You step away from them and pull Steve aside with you to give the two of you some privacy. “Look, I know you promised Nance you’d take care of them, but I also promised Jonathan. We have to help, Steve.”
His face twists with confliction, and the two of you are caught between what Nancy wants and what Jonathan wants. They both want the kids to be safe, but they have different viewpoints of how they expect you and Steve to do so.
Nancy wants to keep her brother out of it, Jonathan wants to save his brother’s life. 
“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, begging you to change your mind. 
The confliction on his face hurts to look at, you hate that you’ve made him feel this way, but you can only shake your head at him. “I’m sorry, but we’re doing this.”
“Yes!” Mike rushes over to you and surprises you with a hug. “This is why I keep you around!”
“Okay, no.” You push the kid away and hold him by the shoulders to ensure he listens to you. “That doesn’t mean I think we should all go down into the tunnels. I’ll go, and Steve will stay here with you guys–”
“What? No! You’re not going down there by yourself, Y/N.” Steve doesn’t understand how you would expect him to ever let you do that. “We’re all on the bench, okay? We’re waiting for the starting team to do their job.”
“This isn’t a stupid sports game.” Mike groans in annoyance before focusing his attention back to you. “And no one in the party gets left behind. If you go, we all go.”
The sincerity in Mike’s voice warms you. He’s defending you, protecting you how you’ve always protected him, and you’ve never been more impressed with his bravery; it’s because of this, his bravery and admiration for you, that you know you have to go into the tunnels alone. 
It would kill you if Mike got hurt, if any of the kids got hurt. 
Steve sees the way your eyes shine at Mike’s words and his stomach twists. He knows he can’t change your mind about going alone, he knows you’d never, ever let anyone get hurt. That you’d lay down your life for these kids and those you love. 
The bloodied cloth wrapped around your rib cage reminds Steve that he’s a part of it all now. You have laid down your life for him.
And he’s never, ever going to let you get hurt because of him again. 
Steve steps forward and gently grabs your arm, he needs you to understand how much your selflessness terrifies him in this moment. “Y/N–”
The revving of an engine cuts him off. 
It’s a familiar sound. You’ve heard this car before. The sound of it has seared itself into your memories. The hair on your arms stands up, and within seconds Max is at the window, looking out in fear. 
“It’s my brother.” Max’s voice is terrified. Not even in the junkyard, when Demodogs had been raining down on you and the kids, had you heard such terror in the girl’s voice. “He can’t know I’m here.”
You’re at her side in a heartbeat, tugging her away from the window. You’ve seen the way Billy acts around Max, you remember the harshness he displayed in the parking lot. The same harshness that left bruises on your waist when he had you pinned against the wall on Halloween. “I won’t let him touch you.”
Your words have a bite to them. Max hears the oath within them, she has never believed anyone when they’ve told her this. “He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.”
“He won’t.” You promise her, trying to control the pure rage you feel because of her brother. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but he’s hurt Max for the last time. 
Steve watches your exchange with Max and feels his hands clench into fists. Anger fizzes through his body. As you console the girl, your eyes meet his and he nods. With one simple head movement, the two of you have silently agreed to do whatever it takes to ensure that Billy never hurts Max ever again. 
“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”
You’re standing behind Steve. 
Billy hasn’t seen you yet. 
“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” Steve’s hand tightens around your arm as he guides you further behind him. He doesn’t like that you’re here with him. He hates the way Billy’s eyes roam over your body without any shame. 
But you insisted on coming outside, and Steve has never been able to tell you no. 
You step out from behind Steve and force your hands to rest by your side in nonchalance. “God, I was hoping you’d be allergic to milk.”
Billy raises his eyebrows when he sees you; you’ve surprised him. “Why, it’s always a pleasure seeing you, sweetheart.”
Steve’s clenched fists only tighten when he hears Billy’s nickname for you. He hates the implications behind it, the way he says it with such sickly sweetness that leaves Steve’s stomach feeling raw. 
He can’t imagine how you feel whenever you hear it, and it only makes Steve hate Billy more. 
“It’s never a pleasure for me.” You cross your arms as Billy now stands in front of you and Steve.
The teen laughs darkly and eyes Steve up and down. “What are you doing here, amigo?”
“I could ask you the same thing… Amigo.” His voice carries an air of indifference, but you know that tomorrow there will be indentations in Steve’s palms from his fingernails. 
“Looking for my stepsister.” Billy lights a cigarette and smirks at you. “A little birdie told me she was here.”
“Huh, that’s weird. I don’t know her.”
Billy smirks at Steve’s words and motions over to you. “Yeah, but this little lady does.”
“Max isn’t here.” You say, forcing your anger down to play along with Steve’s indifference. “Have you checked the quarry? A lot of kids like to hang out there.”
Smoke surrounds you as Billy responds, “Don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Henderson.”
With every dodged question, you’re only angering the teen more. If you and Steve keep this up, you’ll only make everything harder to manage. You try to think of something to distract Billy, but all you know about him is that he’s a sleazy pig with a cigarette addiction. 
Then, it hits you. 
His weird fascination with you. 
If you use it against him, maybe you can get him away from the Byers’ house long enough for Steve and the kids to leave. 
You step closer to Billy, ignoring every part of you that screams in rejection. You’re covered in blood and your hair is probably a mess, but you bat your eyelashes anyways and quirk your head up at Billy with an innocent smile. “I could show you, if you want.”
Just as you hoped, your sudden interest in him catches Billy’s attention. He presses his chest against yours and looks down at you, a pleased smile on his face. “And what would you be showing me, sweetheart?”
“The quarry, silly.” You giggle, trying not to gag at the reek of cigarette smoke. “It’s secluded… No one really goes down there. It’s, well–this is embarrassing.”
You duck your head down and act as if you’re blushing. Billy takes the bait and uses his fingers to lift your head up to look at him again. “Go on, tell me.”
You make a show of biting your lip. “Well, it’s where every teen in Hawkins goes to… Be alone.”
Billy’s eyes darken again, even more interested in what you have to say. He leans down, his lips inches from yours, and you know you have him right where you want him. 
Please, you think. I just want to protect the kids.
His breath fans across your face and he’s about to agree, to have you lead him away and forget all about his bitch of a sister, when Steve roughly pushes him away from you. 
“Max isn’t here, man.” He spits out, his once controlled anger now spilling over the edge. 
You want to scream at him, you almost had Billy. He was seconds away from agreeing, and the stupid idiot pushes him away from you? 
Billy looks between you and Steve and lets out a low chuckle. “Sorry, Harrington. Forgot that she’s yours.”
Steve moves as if to hit him but you quickly grab at his jacket, stopping him. Billy sees this and laughs again. 
“You know, I don’t know… This whole situation, Harrington.” He shrugs, exhales more smoke. “I don’t know. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Oh yeah, why’s that?” 
You’re silent, hand still clutching Steve’s jacket. 
Billy exhales more smoke. “My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you in a stranger’s house, alongside Y/N Henderson, the town’s darling, all bloodied and bruised. And you lie to me about it.”
From an outsider’s perspective, you hate how much Billy makes sense. 
To anyone else, this would look incredibly incriminating against Steve.
Yet, Steve still tries to deny it all. “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?”
“I’m assuming he was.” You voice, looking nervously at Billy as he seems to grow more and more volatile. 
“I don’t know what you don’t understand about what Y/N and I have told you. Max isn’t here.”
Billy leans in close to Steve and points with his cigarette towards the house. “Then who is that?”
You and Steve turn, and your heart drops when you see Max and the boys all quickly duck their heads out of the window.
“Shit,” you breathe out, knowing it’s over.
You really hate those kids sometimes.
“Listen,” Steve tries to make up some excuse, but Billy roughly shoves him to the ground.
“I told you to plant your feet.” Bully sneers as he looms over him. You try to help Steve up, but you’re pushed aside as Billy then stomps on Steve’s ankle with a sickening crunch that makes your own wounded ankle sting.
As he storms towards the house, you quickly help Steve up, He pushes you away. “I’ll be fine, go help the kids!”
“But–”
You can’t just leave Steve while he’s hurt, but every time you try to help him up, he bats your hand away.
“Go!”
From inside the house, you hear the kids start to scream, and you reluctantly leave Steve behind and run inside. When you enter, Billy already has Lucas pinned against the wall as all the kids scream at him to let the boy go. Lucas is hitting at the teen’s chest desperately, but nothing is working. 
“Stay away from her.” Billy spits in the boy’s face, who is paralyzed with fear.
“Lucas!” You all but throw yourself onto Billy’s back as you begin hitting and pulling his hair. Anything you can think of, you try, but it’s no use. With Billy’s size and build, you’re nothing but a fucking bug to him. 
“I said get off of me!” Lucas kneels Billy in the groin, sending you and the teen flying back, but at least he’s let go of Lucas. 
You let go of Billy and place yourself between him and the boy, your breath comes out ragged. You don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing. All your mind can think of right now is protecting the kids, but in the midst of screaming and exhaustion and blood loss, you can’t think of anything. 
Billy tries to get to Lucas again, his teeth bared with fury. “You’re so dead, Sinclair. So dead!” 
In your exhaustion and fear, you call out for the only person you can think of. “Steve!”
He’s at your side in a heartbeat, quickly looking at you to make sure you’re okay, before he flings Billy away from you and Lucas. “No, you are!”
Steve’s punch lands perfectly, with a precision far from his pathetic punches thrown last year against Jonathan. It’s incredibly hot.
Billy begins to laugh in a manic manner that frightens you, but all of his attention is now on Steve, so you use this opportunity to drag Lucas over to the rest of the kids and make sure everyone is okay. 
You trust that Steve has everything else handled, but you make sure to keep an eye on him anyways while you take care of the kids. 
“Are you okay?” You check Lucas over for any injuries, who numbly nods as he’s still in shock, while Billy screams something about always wanting to meet King Steve. 
“Get out.” Despite Steve’s leveled voice, his tone is vicious. 
Billy swings again, but Steve manages to duck just in time before he lands yet another punch to the boy’s face. 
“Yes!” Dustin shouts with glee, but you remember the fight from last year. How Steve had lost miserably against Jonathan. A boy half of Billy’s size. 
While you’re impressed with Steve’s fighting improvement, you’re not sure how longer he’ll be able to keep this up. When more punches land on Billy and all he does is laugh menacingly, you know you don’t have a lot of time left.
You’re fucking terrified. 
The kids are still cheering Steve on when you turn to them, panicked. “You guys need to leave. Now.”
“What? But Steve’s winning!” Dustin says as Steve’s fist connects with Billy’s jaw. 
The sound makes you feel sick. 
You’re pleading now, terror clawing at your throat as you do so; your words slur together. “Leave, sneak out, and–and go through the front door and hide. Get help, okay? Just, go and find someone while Steve and I handle this–”
The sound of glass breaking against Steve’s head alerts you that your time is up. 
Billy hadn't been fighting back before. But now? He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. 
As Steve stumbles back in pain, you try pleading with the kids again. You don’t want them to see any more of this, of what might be about to happen. This isn’t just some fight between two teen boys. You know Billy better than that. 
He’s out for fucking blood. 
“Dustin, take everyone outside now!”
“We can’t just leave you!” Mike shouts and the others all nod. 
You want to cry. “We don’t have time for this, just–”
“Shit!” Dustin knocks against you as he dodges a punch meant for Steve. 
Steve crashes into the Byers’ bookshelf and you’re practically shoving the kids out of the door so that you can go and help, but they refuse to leave you and Steve behind. 
Billy has Steve by his jacket. “No one tells me what to do.”
With a sickening thud, he bashes his head into Steve’s and sends him flying to the ground. 
“Steve!” There’s blood pooling from his head and you’re gripped by fear so intense that you’re afraid you’ll pass out any second. 
Billy is relentless, now standing over Steve as he lands punch after punch. Every time his fists slam against Steve’s face, you feel them land against yours as well. Billy’s screaming like a fucking maniac and none of the kids are listening to you and Steve is getting bloodier by the second.
You’re torn. 
Dustin and the kids are staring at you, eyes wide with fear, and the front door is open; you could take the kids and run, but Steve is lying motionless on the ground.
It’s either him or the kids.
And yet it’s the easiest decision you’ve made all night.
“Get off of him!” You throw yourself onto Billy’s back for the second time tonight. 
You yank at his hair and try to scratch his face, but within seconds Billy throws you over his shoulder. “You demented bitch.”
Your head catches on the edge of a coffee table and you land with a thud on the ground. Almost immediately you feel blood drip from your eyebrow and you groan. Fuck. Definitely another concussion, but when you look over at Steve, he looks worse than you feel, and you force yourself to get up. 
Billy watches as you pathetically try to stand, and he laughs with cruelty. “What, want some more, sweetheart?”
More blood drips down your face and you feel the scratches on your rib cage re-open. Every bone in your body aches, but you pull out your switchblade and extend its knives. Your fingers skim over the engraving on its handle, reminding you to use the weapon with love. 
“This is your last chance.” You clutch at your side, hoping you look more intimidating than you feel. “Leave my family alone.”
Billy sees your knives and laughs at you. “Am I expected to believe that you’d actually hurt me?”
Your grip tightens around your switchblade. No one ever believes that you could be so cruel, so vicious. Billy is looking at you as if you’re some pathetic little girl, as if you haven’t killed Demodogs and Demogorgons. He’s looking at you as if you aren’t the sole reason everyone you know and love is alive.
You were once told to use the switchblade with love, that there was never any room for love when it came to violence. 
Now, as the kids are screaming at you to run and the pool of blood around Steve continues to grow, the onslaught of love that is always within you overtakes the fear. 
“I warned you.” With one quick movement, you swat at Billy and cut deeply into his shoulder.
He lets out an enraged scream and instinctively his fist goes flying. Pain erupts in your left eye and you know that you’ll have the worst time ever trying to explain to your mom later how you got a black eye. 
“Fuck!” You groan, dodging every other punch that Billy throws your way as he starts to approach you. With one eye quickly swelling up and the other blinded by blood, you do your best to stumble away from Billy, but it’s no use. 
Your foot catches on the carpet and almost as quickly as you fall, Billy is right there to wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze. You inhale sharply and panic overtakes you as you claw at his hands, drawing blood from him as well, but his fingers only tighten. 
“Y/N!” Dustin’s vocal chords strain from how loud he screams your name.
Billy seems to get a kick out of hearing your brother plead for your life, and he squeezes even tighter as you flail. “Not so tough now, are you?”
You struggle to free yourself, to do anything, but you can’t. 
For the first time since Will went missing, you truly believe that you’re about to die.
Steve is practically dead on the ground below you, he’s bleeding so much from his head that you’re terrified he’ll never wake up, and the kids are defenseless as they scream with tears in their eyes. 
Your baby brother is about to watch you die. 
Spots begin to form in your vision and it’s getting harder and harder to move your limbs. To make them do as you command. 
You know it’s your brain shutting down from the lack of oxygen. 
I hope Jonathan doesn’t blame himself.
Your world fades to black. 
Billy screams.
And you feel your body drop to the ground.
– 
The first time you wake up, it’s to Dustin huffing as he tugs at your arm. “God, you’re heavier than you look.”
You promptly pass back out. 
The second time, it’s dark outside and you register that you’re cold, but your eyes sting and you’re out again.
You wake up a few more times, always in a daze, and never more for a few seconds at a time, before the feeling that you’re moving wakes you up for good. 
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dark, your left eye barely even opens, and the pounding in your head is blinding in itself. Blinking a few times, you look down and finally notice that Steve is sprawled on your lap. You’re in the backseat of someone’s car. 
Your head is resting against someone’s shoulder. When you try to lift it to see who it is, you feel someone gently guide your head back down. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t move too fast, alright? Don’t want you yacking on us.”
“Dustin?” You immediately regret trying to speak. Your voice comes out hoarse and raw and the pain is so intense that it only makes your head pound more.
“Right here, sis. Try not to speak, you sound like a frog.”
You try to sit up again, forgetting that Steve is sprawled on top of you, and your movements cause him to wake up. When his eyes manage to blink open, he tilts his head at you and mumbles, “Nancy?”
“Wha–” Again your voice cracks and you feel so delirious. Are you Nancy?
Steve attempts to wipe away the blood on his face but Dustin stops him with a gentle chiding. “No, don’t touch it.”
Steve brings a shaky hand up to your face and carefully rests it against your cheek. “You’re… You’re bleeding.”
Dustin puts the hand down. “Hey, buddy. Y/N is bleeding, good job. You’re bleeding, too. It’s okay though, you put up a good fight. I mean, he kicked your ass but you put up a good fight.”
Your brother’s words ring in your ears. He’s saying so much and you’re trying to swallow down the vomit that threatens to spill out. 
“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai.” A voice rings out, one different from Dustin’s. 
Was that Lucas?
“What’s going on?” Steve slurs, trying to process everything happening. He blearily looks back up at you. “Who’s driving?”
“Not me,” you manage to croak out.
A beat of silence passes. 
Then, at the same time, you and Steve realize: Max is the one driving. 
You’re more awake now and you try to say more, but your throat has swollen shut from speaking and it feels like it’s on fire. 
Thankfully, Steve is here to say everything you can’t. “Oh my god!”
“Just relax, she’s driven before.” Dustin reassures, slapping your hand away when you try to reach over to the driver’s side. 
“Yeah, in a parking lot.” Mike says, and you notice he’s also here now. 
“That counts.”
You want to scream at Max to pull over and demand the keys from her, but your bruised throat prevents you while your bleeding rib cage traps you in. While you can’t say anything, all Steve can say is, “Oh my god.”
“They were gonna leave you guys behind–”
“Oh my god.”
“But I promised that you’d be cool, okay?” Again Dustin slaps your hand away and all but shoves his leg over you so that you remain seated. 
Max then presses down on the gas pedal and the car increases its speed, which only makes the entire situation worse. 
Steve, rightfully, freaks out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s going on? Stop the car, slow down!”
You twist in your seat and blindly grab at Steve’s hand, both thanking him for voicing all that you can’t and also to try and prevent the poor boy from passing out again. 
“I told you he’d freak out! At least Y/N shut up!” Mike shouts over at Dustin. 
While you’re flattered that you’re officially cooler than Steve in Mike’s eyes, if you had a functioning throat right now, you’d be letting out some very choice words. 
“Stop the car!” Steve screams again, but the little rainbow bandaids on his cheek take away from his commanding nature. 
You hope that Dustin at least chose some pretty bandaids for your face. 
“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Again, Max doesn’t at all help the situation at hand. 
“Wait, that’s Mount Sinai. Make a left!” Lucas points to where Max needs to go and you wonder why they trusted the girl, who just moved to Hawkins a week ago, to know where to go. 
“What?”
“Make a left!” Lucas screams, and Max quickly yanks the car to the left.
You, Steve, and the kids all scream as she hits what you hope is a mailbox. As the car jerks, you topple onto Steve and let out a painful, weird mix of a croak and shriek as the car continues to turn. Dustin tries to steady himself against you as he screams and Steve fully grabs your waist and uses you to shield himself from danger.
What a hero. 
Then, you almost go flying out of the windshield as Max suddenly stops the car. 
“Hello!” Steve exclaims, gripping you tightly still. 
Dustin giggles. “Whoa!”
“Incredible,” Mike breathes out. 
Meanwhile, you think your heart fell out of your ass about five blocks ago. 
“I told you. Zoomer.” Max smirks with pride. 
“She terrifies me,” you whisper, and Steve nods in agreement. 
The kids begin getting out of the car and seem to have some unspoken plan being set into motion. Dustin pats your shoulder before leaving you behind with Steve as the others go towards the trunk. 
Not knowing what the fuck is happening, you kick Steve so that he falls off of you and onto the grass so that you can follow after your brother. When you get out the car, you march over towards where all the kids are standing and silently demand an explanation. 
Mike notices you first. “What? Cat got your tongue?”
You refrain from shoving his face in the mud and point towards the goggles he’s holding. He sighs and hands it to you while Dustin ties a bandana around your neck and Max grabs a gallon of gasoline. 
Seems like they’re sticking to the plan from earlier, then.
When Steve realizes this, as he is gripping onto the car for dear life, he whines. “Oh, no. Guys.”
Everyone ignores him and he continues to try to stop what’s happening. You hobble over to him, a new wave of nausea and pain washing over you, and lean against him helplessly. There’s no use trying to explain to him that the party won’t listen. For now, you simply relish in his presence and enjoy how he feels against you. 
“We are not going down there right now!” Steve, though gentle to not jostle you around too much, waves his hands in the air as he screams at Max. “I made myself clear. There is no chance we’re going to that hole, alright?”
Similar to last year, Steve begins to spiral in his fear. He wraps his arms around you and places you against the car before he runs over to Dustin and throws that backpack that’s in the kid’s hands. “This is not happening!”
You slowly walk over and grab the thrown backpack, hoping that Dustin can reason with the teen. 
“Steve, you’re upset. I get it, but the bottom line is that a party member requires assistance and it is our duty to provide that assistance.” When you join Dustin’s side, he helps you put the goggles on and brings your bandana up over your mouth. “Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So keep us safe.”
He hands Steve the backpack you retrieved. 
Steve looks between you and your brother. You both look absolutely ridiculous in your get up, and he knows he has no other choice but to agree. His eyes meet yours and he silently asks if you’re sure about this, he will always look to you for the answers. 
You nod, hoping that the small head shift is conveying what you physically cannot say.
I’m here, the kids need us, and I need you with me.
Steve hears it, sighs, and grabs the backpack from your hands. 
“Well, let’s get going.” He motions for you and Dustin to lead the way. 
– 
“I got you,” Steve’s voice is soft as his hands graze your waist. He’s standing below you, already having jumped into the tunnels so that he can help you climb down the rope safely. You’re not sure if it’s his touch, or the way his voice drips with promises to protect you, or the simple fact that you’re bleeding and bruised that makes your body weak. 
“Drop me and die.” Your knuckles are white as they clutch the rope, your body shaking with exhaustion as you try to ease your way down without further injuring your ribs. 
Steve laughs and tightens his grip on your waist, steadying you as you finally inch the rest of the way down and land with a gentle thud onto the ground. “Like I’d ever dream of letting you go.”
This time, you know it’s his words that cause you to shiver, not the exhaustion and pain. 
“Ahem.”
Turning around, you see Dustin glaring at you and Steve while Lucas is stifling laughs. You roll your eyes at them and step away so that you aren’t standing so close to Steve, and he seems to think the same and distances himself as well. 
“Holy shit,” Steve breathes out, now finally examining the tunnels. 
It takes your breath away as well. The tunnels are terrifying, but oddly kind of cool. There’s a dim light within them, almost ghostly, and yet it’s beautiful in a way that you can’t quite describe. Small particles float through the air, and you reach your hand out to feel them against your skin. It tickles, akin to snowflakes, and the reminder makes you yearn for winter again. 
Mike’s flashlight distracts you as he shines it towards a random section of the tunnel. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s this way.”
“You’re pretty sure, or you’re certain?” Dustin asks, doubtful. 
“I’m 100% sure, just follow me and you’ll know.”
As soon as Mike’s declaration of leading leaves his lips, you and Steve share and look and immediately stumble towards the boy. 
Like hell you’re letting him lead. He’s a child, and he’s also incredibly horrible at navigating. Last time you let him guide the way, you ended up finding El in the middle of the woods. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve flashes his light at Mike. “I don’t think so.”
“What?”
“Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” Steve takes the map from Mike’s hands and then looks over at you. “I guide, you take the rear?”
You nod. “Good luck.”
Steve smiles, his sarcastic bravado now gone, before he suddenly clears his throat once more and shouts. “From here on out, I’m leading the way while Y/N makes sure none of you idiots get lost. Come on.”
The kids groan and roll their eyes at him, but they fall into line and do as they’re told. 
Dustin walks in front of you and offers you his hand. He knows the uneven terrain will only increase the chances of your ankle acting up. “How’s the ankle?”
“Hurts,” you rasp, accepting his hand as you hobble along. He hums and helps you navigate, the goggles covering his nose makes him sound nasally. “Did I put up a good fight at least?”
Your throat strains to get all the words out, but Dustin seems to understand what you’ve said and laughs. “Yeah, you did a much better job than Steve–What the hell?”
Dustin stops walking and suddenly looks up. Unsure what he’s seen, you look up as well and gasp. Above you rests a giant flower-bud looking thing, except it’s pulsing in a very concerning and gross way and is the size of a car. When it starts to expand even larger, you realize before your brother does what it’s about to do; you tug at his hand and try to run away, but Dustin doesn’t move.
Then, in one grand blow, the bud explodes and releases what you can only imagine are pollen spores, and they spray all over Dustin. “Shit!” He falls to the ground, screaming and rolling around as if he’s just been shot, and all you can do is stand there and silently wait for him to calm down enough for you to talk to him. “Help! Y/N, help!”
You motion to your throat, but Dustin gags and scrambles to stand up before promptly falling back down again in his haste. 
Steve and the others have now joined and everyone is crowding over your brother with worry. “Dustin? What happened?”
“Pollen.” You croak, and Steve looks even more confused now. 
“It’s in my mouth!” Dustin spits onto the ground and coughs, wheezing every few breaths. “Some of it got on my mouth. Shit!”
Mike points his flashlight at you. “Any more useful insight from Kermit the frog?”
You glare at him, although the nickname is funny and you hate that it’s clever. You clear your throat, cringe at the sting it sends down your body, and respond, “Rose-bud thing. Exploded. He’s fine.”
Everyone tilts their head at you, not at all understanding what you’re trying to say, and you groan. It’s incredibly frustrating that Billy left you unable to say a goddamn thing without immeasurable pain. You honestly would’ve preferred that he stab you or something, because your intelligence and wit are so crucial to who you are as a person. 
Plus the whole Kermit the frog thing kind of sucks, regardless of how funny it will be later. 
“I’m fine.” Dustin gasps out. “As Y/N said, a rose-bud thing sprayed me.”
“You guys serious?” Max shakes her head, at a loss for why she’s even here. 
“Very funny, man.” Steve looks at you and teases, “And Y/N, I expected more from you.”
You give him the finger. “Dustin, not me.”
“Mhm,” he’s starting to walk away again, resuming his leader position through the tunnels, but he sends you a wink. “C’mon, Hendersons.”
The rest of the kids follow after him while you help Dustin up and wipe him off. He’s a mess, and he’s clearly still frightened, but he seems reassured by your presence and begins to calm down. When he’s ready, you and Dustin follow.
The tunnels are long, windy, and incredibly disturbing to be in. You can’t believe that something this intricate and vast has been laying underneath Hawkins for god knows how long. The ground beneath your feet is squishy and it takes both Dustin’s hand and immense concentration to not trip. 
Steve leads, his flashlight serving as a beacon to focus on despite the pounding in your head. The bandana tied over your nose only makes the ringing in your ears worse, but you’ll leave inhaling mysterious Upside Down particles to your brother. 
After a few minutes of walking, you’re starting to fear that the poorly drawn map from Mike really is just a poorly drawn map. Then, Steve stops. “Alright, Wheeler. I think we found your hub.”
You flick your flashlight around and your eyes widen. It’s huge. In the center lies a mound of what you hope is just mud, but you see a bone or two stick out from it and look away. To your left, there’s easily five or six more tunnels, each varying in width and height, and to your right is the same. 
Seeing how vast the tunnel system is, you’re thankful for Mike’s genius little brain. 
“Let’s drench it!” Except the vigor in his voice frightens you and you consider that he may be the world’s next mad scientist. 
However, a plan is a plan and you’ve already made it this far, so you set to work on spraying the area with gasoline. Between you, Steve, and the kids, within minutes you’ve created the world’s most flammable labyrinth. 
When you’re done, Steve guides the kids back towards the exit and you make sure everyone’s behind the two of you. He kneels, flicks out his lighter, and turns to everyone. “Alright, you guys ready?”
“Ready,” Max and Lucas say.
Dustin tightens his hand around yours, preparing to help you run as fast as you can with your ankle. “Light her up.”
Steve flicks his lighter open. “I am in such deep shit.”
“Together.” You nudge him with your shoe, and even though his face is hidden, you know he smiles. 
He takes a deep breath, winds his arm back, and flings the lighter into the center of the hub. 
Immediately everything bursts into flames. In the blaze, the strange roots that had been lying dormant on the ground now come to life as they flail against the heat. They twist and whip around, writhing in pain. The tunnels themselves almost seem to come to life as it writhes in pain. 
“Go, go, go!” Steve yells, pushing everyone back to start running. 
You stay behind with him, making sure all the kids have started to run before you finally let Dustin tug you along as well. The boy is screaming, hopping and dodging roots as best as he can while squealing, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
Steve takes the lead now, having somehow memorized the way out. “Let’s go!”
You’re disoriented. Dustin’s hand is gripping yours so harshly and it’s taking everything within you to keep up, but your ankle throbs and your left eye has only continued to swell from the punch earlier. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to follow along, and in your disorientation you lose track of Mike. 
When he falls, everything within you snaps back into focus. You tear your hand from Dustin’s and you’re at Mike’s side in a heartbeat, but already the roots have started to wrap around his leg; he screams. “Help! Y/N, help me!”
Your hands shake as you reach for your switchblade, adrenaline runs through you so violently that you feel lightheaded. Mike’s screams are the only thing keeping you grounded right now. As he panics, you roughly grab his shirt and force him back before you start to hack at the root with your knives. 
“Pull him back!” Steve instructs the kids, who have now joined. “Y/N, watch out!”
You have just enough time to cut through one root before dodging Steve’s bat as he hits at the other. It takes a few swings, but with one final blow, you and the kids are able to pull Mike free and help him stand back up. 
“You good?” Lucas pants, patting MIke’s shoulders for any injuries while Dustin asks, “You okay?”
You pull Mike into you and quickly hug him, damning whatever time constraint you currently have against you. Your hands are still shaking, which Mike feels, and he gives you a quick pat before pulling away. “Glad you care, but–”
“We gotta go!” Steve steps between you two, bat still in hand, when a growl erupts from behind him. 
Dustin shoves everyone behind him before you can stop him. He’s recognized the growl before you have. “Dart.”
The Demodog growls again. He’s bigger than ever before, now practically fully grown. His growth distracts you long enough to miss Dustin slowly starting to approach him. When you do, you immediately try to stop him. 
“Dustin–” Fear overtakes you.
“Steve, hold her back.” He orders. “Just trust me, okay?”
Steve’s arms wrap around you and you try to fight back. “No–”
“Y/N,” he whispers into your ear, keeping an eye on your brother as well. “If you freak out now, Dustin will get hurt.”
He’s right, you know he’s right, but your brother is only a foot away from Dart now and he’s now smaller than the creature. One wrong move, and he’s dead.
Dustin kneels in front of Dart and you feel your heart drop. You don’t dare breathe as he takes off his goggles and mask and leans in closer to the creature. “Hey, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin.”
Dart slowly inches forward as Dustin continues to talk. “You remember me? Will you let us pass?”
This time, Dart’s entire mouth opens as he snarls at Dustin.
Again you struggle in Steve’s arms, but he only tightens his hold on you as you watch your baby brother, terrified, face off against the Demodog. 
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Dustin lowers his voice, unwavering against Dart’s malice. “I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchy thing to do. I blame Y/N, she’s always the one who makes me do the right thing.”
The little shit has you scared out of your fucking mind, and yet he has the nerve to somehow make this your fault.
If he gets out of this alive, you’re never, ever letting him go again. 
Dustin reaches into his backpack, eyes never leaving Dart. “You hungry?
“He’s insane,” Lucas whispers in awe. Both you and Steve tell him to shut up, scared that any noise will cause Dart to attack.
“I’ve got our favorite.” Dustin waves the candy in front of Dart’s face. “See? Nougat.”
As soon as the Demodog sees the candy bar, his demeanor shifts and he happily approaches Dustin. Within seconds, your brother has managed to re-tame his weird Upside Down pet, and for a brief second you feel bad that Dustin can’t keep him. 
“Look at that. Yummy!” He places the candy on the ground as a peace offering and he starts to motion behind him, waving for you and everyone else to start moving. “Eat up, buddy.”
Steve guides Lucas, Max, and Mike past Dart and through the tunnel that was previously blocked by him, but you stay behind. Your knives are drawn; you’re not leaving your brother’s side. 
“There’s plenty,” Dustin coos to the creature, placing down one last candy bar before standing up. When he sees that you’re still there, he grabs your hand and starts to walk away with you. Feeling his hand, warm and alive against yours, is enough to calm you down enough to follow. Before the two of you leave, however, Dustin turns around one last time to look at Dart, a sad smile on his face. “Goodbye, buddy.”
Dart doesn’t show any reaction, too busy devouring the candy he’s been given, and you gently tug Dustin along to safety, albeit with some guilt. He really loved that little lizard thing. 
As soon as the two of you are out of danger, you pull Dustin into a bone crushing hug. “You’re stupid.”
“Stupid brave,” he mumbles against you, though his arms are tight against your waist. He had been scared, too. 
You snort and pull your bandana down so you can kiss the top of Dustin’s head. “Just stupid.” 
“Guys, we gotta go.” Steve whispers, feeling bad for interrupting your moment with the kid. He can still feel the way your body shook in his arms, how he could hear your terrified heartbeat as he held you back. He felt horrible for doing it, but he promised Nancy he’d keep the kids safe, and Steve knows that she also wanted him to protect you, too.
At Steve’s urgent whisper, you reluctantly nod and pull away from Dustin. With one last shoulder squeeze, you pat his back and tug at his hand to start running. As you run, the ground trembles beneath your feet. You’re the first one to fall, Max and Lucas not far behind. “Fuck!” 
Steve has your hand within his in seconds and he gently pulls you up. His face is obscured from the goggles and banana, yet you can see the concern when he looks at you. When he stands you back up, he pulls you close and whispers, “You okay?”
You nod, about to tell him to keep running, when you hear the first screech of the Demodogs. 
“What was that?” Max inches towards your side, now long familiar with what the screeches mean. 
As if almost in response to the girl, more screeches follow as they echo through the tunnels. Only this time, there’s more of them; more than you’d even want to imagine. The hair on your arms stands up as the screeching continues. You know that if you don’t run now, none of you will stand a chance. 
“They’re coming.” Mike realizes. “Run! Run, let’s go!”
You snatch Dustin’s hand and practically throw the kid forward with how harshly you begin running. Lucas and Max run past, while Mike follows after Steve. Your footsteps fall harshly against the tunnel’s earthy ground and it takes everything within you to keep going. When you round the corner and see the rope, you almost sob with relief. 
“Kids first!” You shout, damning whatever further damage it’ll do to your vocal chords.
Steve understands immediately and kneels beneath the rope to give the kids a boost up while you hold the rope taught and help lift them. Max is the first up, both you and Steve more so throwing her rather than helping her.
“C’mon!” Steve encourages her, and with one final shove from you, she makes it over the edge and is safe. 
Everything happens so fast, it’s a blur as you help Lucas start to climb out, then Mike, and as you’re hauling Dustin up next, you hear the Demodogs drawing near. 
“Oh, shit!” Steve hears them as soon as you do and he grabs for his bat and starts to place himself in front of you and Dustin, but you stop him. 
“No!” You yank him back and then grab your brother, shoving him underneath the rope. The shadows of the Demodogs cast against the wall, you know you only have seconds before they’re here. “Throw him up!”
Dustin realizes what you’re about to do. “Y/N, no–”
But Steve already has a grip on him. “You’re going home.”
“No!” Dustin screams and tries to stay behind, wriggling and thrashing, but with Steve’s help, you’re able to lift him to safety before the first Demodog appears. Dustin, now safely above ground, sees this too. His heart stops. “Y/N!”
“Steve! Y/N! Climb up!” The kids begin to shout now, urging you and the teen to get out of the tunnels, fear alive in their voices. 
You look up at them, see their faces alive with youth, and then turn to Steve. He seems to be thinking the same thing as you. You’ve both run out of time. He nods, you do as well, and together you’ve accepted your fate. Steve draws his bat as you raise your knives. 
“Y/N!” Dustin’s voice rings through clearer than the other’s, the despair evident. You close your eyes for a second, wishing that there was more you could’ve done, but at least he’s safe.
Jonathan will take care of him, Nancy will, too. 
He won’t be alone, and you have Steve with you, who is holding your hand as if it contains all the secrets of the world.
It’ll be okay. 
You open your eyes. 
The Demodogs, miraculously, start to run right past you and Steve. They weave between you two, not at all paying any attention. You stand as still as possible, not wanting to wake them from whatever trance they seem to be in. 
However, one particularly large Demodog crashes against your leg and sends you into Steve’s side, who wraps his arms around you with a fierce protectiveness. You duck your head down, unaware just how desperately you’d been craving his presence, and he buries you further against him as the monsters continue to run. 
The two of you cower, curling into one another, steadying the other, waiting for something to happen. Steve has his feet firmly planted and stands his ground as more monsters run past, and without him you would’ve fallen minutes ago, trampled by the creatures. 
When you can’t hear any more Demodogs, you slowly lift your head from Steve’s chest and look around. 
They’re gone. Each and every one of them has left. 
You’re still in Steve’s arms, your chests are pressed tightly together and you’ve never been this close to him before. When you look up at him, you can feel his breath against your skin. There’s an odd look in his eyes, he’s studying your face as if seeing it for the first time, and his gaze makes something deep within you stir. 
“Thank you,” you whisper, needing to say something. He’s once again saved your life, and your eyes can’t seem to leave his. 
His fingers dig into your side, it’s the only way he can respond. The sensation causes you to shiver and your eyes slowly drift down to his lips. They’re a lovely shade of pink, flush and full. You wonder what they’d taste like, if he’s wondered the same about you. 
Steve stares down at you and feels every breath you take, the rise and fall of your chest matching his. The two of you stand like this for a moment, hearts beating together as you cling to one another, until Dustin clears his throat. 
“Ahem,” he draws your attention. “There are kids here, ya know.”
Lucas, Max, and Mike all snicker when you frantically pull away from Steve in embarrassment. Both of your faces are red, the air between you still hangs with something you’re not quite sure how to name. 
“We’re coming.” Steve mumbles to your brother before turning to you. “Ready?”
You take a deep breath and nod, your nerves still shaky from being so close to him prior. When you’re ready, you grab onto the rope and feel Steve’s always gentle hands grip your waist. You’re slow climbing up, being the most injured out of everyone, but he’s patient with you and murmurs encouragement as you climb. 
Once you’re safely up, you help the kids with Steve. The moment his feet touch solid land, he lets out a low whistle and claps his hands. “Well, I’d say that went well–”
Suddenly, Billy’s headlights begin to shine obnoxiously bright. The light increases in its intensity, glowing brighter and brighter, so much so that you and everyone else have to shield your eyes. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the lights shut off. 
It’s quiet. No one says anything, unsure of what’s just happened, but you know.
“El,” you whisper, somehow knowing it’s her. Mike nods, understanding as well. 
She did it. 
She closed the gate. 
You pull the kids into you, dragging them all in your arms in a giant hug. All you feel right now is disbelief. The plan worked. You’re all somehow still alive. 
Steve stands behind you, his chest firm against your back, and you allow yourself to gently lean against him. To accept all that he’s silently providing you; there’s no point in fighting it any more. He’s here, offering you anything you need from him, and you’re exhausted from pretending that you don’t see it. 
After a few moments of silence, you finally release the kids and nudge them towards the car. 
It’s time to go home. 
– 
“So what exactly did you guys do with Billy?” Steve’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat, waves of exhaustion crashing upon you. From the rearview mirror, Steve sees Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all turn to Max slowly. He frowns. “Why are you all looking at her?”
Max shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “I handled it.”
“She sedated him and we left him on the floor at Will’s.” Dustin fills in the information that Max opted to omit, which she elbows him for. 
Steve blinks, turns to you, and asks, “You heard that too, right?”
“Mhm.”
“Cool.”
When you get to Jonathan’s, Billy is sitting hunched over on the porch, waiting. He looks rough, his eyes bleary and his hair matted. When you see him, you feel your throat constrict in pain and a sense of panic builds within you. You look towards Steve, see his bruised cheek, then notice the way Max squirms in the backseat being near Billy, and the panic is replaced with anger. 
He’s caused enough pain and turmoil to those you love. 
Steve parks the car and turns in his seat so that he’s facing everyone. “Alright, we all see that Billy is awake, so you guys stay here while I go and–”
“We.” You correct, swallowing down the pain you feel. 
Steve inhales and looks as if he wants to argue, but he just shakes his head and continues. “Okay, we go and talk to the guy.”
“I want to come.” Max says, though she still refuses to look in Billy’s direction. 
You rest a hand on her leg. You understand what she’s asking for, to handle her brother herself, take her life into her own hands. Max is a brave kid, she’s shown you that much tonight, and while you trust her to make the right decision, you’re still hesitant. “Are you sure?”
She thinks for a second before nodding. Her eyes harden and she juts her jaw out. She’s made up her mind, and you get a kick out of seeing the fire within her. Max Mayfield is an incredible young girl, and you’re honored to know that she trusts you. “I’m sure.”
“Then let’s go.”
You, Steve, and Max walk side by side towards Billy, though you make sure to place the girl slightly behind you in case her brother tries anything. 
When Billy notices you approach, he lifts his head up and waves lazily at the three of you. “Back already?” His words slur together and his eyes are glossy; the sedative must still be wearing off. 
Max steps forward. “Take me home.” 
Billy eyes her, looks between you and Steve, and then sighs. “Fine. Any other demands?”
The girl shakes her head. “I’ll wait in the car.”
And then she’s gone, leaving you and Steve alone with Billy. 
He eyes you, sees the bruises on your neck, and a languid smile drawls across his face. “Seems I left a mark, sweetheart.”
Steve steps forward, but you put your hand out and stop him. You appreciate him, you do, but this is something you have to do yourself. You swallow again, feeling the tender flesh within your throat constrict, and try to make your words come out as neutral as possible. “Seems I did, too.”
Billy looks down at his shoulder, the wound from your knife is still bleeding. “So you did.”
Lucas and the other boys stand off to the side now, having left the car alone for Max. When Billy notices them staring, he sighs and wipes his hands off on his jeans and slowly gets up. “Well, my bitch of a sister awaits.”
As Billy leaves, Mike runs up the steps and unlocks the front door. “Y/N, think you could make those cookies again? I’m starving.”
You glare at him and Steve laughs. “I’m not sure she can even walk up the steps, dude.”
“Yeah, look at her.” Dustin waves his hands in front of you. “She looks like a zombie.”
Lucas makes zombie sounds and pretends to eat Dustin’s brains before Mike joins in. The three of them chase each other into the house, screaming “brains” and “die” as they mess around, leaving you and Steve alone outside. 
He steps in front of you, his back towards you and he crouches down. “Care for a ride?”
You want to argue, but it’s becoming harder and harder to keep your eyes open. It’d be a miracle if you even manage up the first step on the porch. Hesitantly, you place your hands on Steve’s shoulders and jump onto his back.
“Atta girl,” he laughs, standing back up so that he can carry you inside and join the boys. You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle your face as you close your eyes. You’re seconds away from falling asleep. Steve seems to sense this and slows down his footsteps so as to not disturb you. 
He navigates the home, remembering where to go from his time here last year. You’re warm against him and Steve’s fingers draw lazy circles onto your ankles. The boys are in the kitchen, scurrying around for any food, and Steve relishes in this small moment with you.
You’re placed down into a soft bed and the smell of Jonathan overwhelms you; you open your eyes and realize that Steve has taken you to the boy’s room. The bed is warm beneath you, the scent soothes your wounds. 
“Jonathan’s?” You ask, confused as to why Steve would take you here.
“Figured it’s where you sleep when you’re here.” He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal, before grabbing the blankets and tucking you in. His movements are careful and he makes sure your head is resting on a pillow and that he takes off your shoes. 
The gentleness of his touch soothes you. You’ve never let anyone take care of you like this before. You let him play with your hair, wrap the blanket around you so that you won’t get cold, and when he finally seems pleased with his work, he flicks your nose and smiles. “Get some sleep, dork.”
“Everyone is safe?”
His eyes melt. “They are. They’ll be home soon. In the meantime, I’ll rustle up some grub for those heathens outside while you sleep. Doctor’s orders.”
You giggle and grab his hand to bring to your lips. They linger against his knuckles, you inhale and breathe in his scent, and Steve’s breath hitches at the touch. “Thank you,” you whisper against his skin before placing another kiss. 
There’s such a lovely buzz within your chest, holding Steve’s hand fills you with this syrupy warmth like honey, and you’ve never felt it before. It drips down your skin and into your bones, healing wounds both old and new with its kisses. 
Steve squeezes your hand with his. He feels it, too. You both do. 
A body slides in next to yours, rousing you from your sleep. A hand wraps around your waist and the fingers, long and lithe and familiar, skim your skin lazily. The sensation almost lulls you back to sleep, you know whose touch this is, whose body lays next to yours. 
You open your arms and engulf Jonathan into a hug. His body lays atop of yours, reminiscent of the night a few days ago when he snuck into your room before he left with Nancy. Your body has long since come to anticipate his weight against yours, it’s become accustomed to how he lands upon you. 
“What time is it?” You rasp, stroking Jonathan’s hair with your fingers as he breathes steadily against you. You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but the pain in your throat has lessened, your voice is slowly returning to normal.
“Early morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Steve took Dustin home, no one wanted to wake you. Apparently you had a rough night.”
You laugh, then wince at the pain it draws from your throat and ribs. “You could say that.”
Jonathan places another kiss upon your skin, this time against the base of your throat. He litters kisses up and down your neck, his breath tickling as he does so. “I’m sorry,” he says in between each kiss, as if his words will make the bruises fade faster. 
Rather than respond, knowing nothing you can say will make him believe that none of this is Jonathan’s fault, you simply hum at his kisses and lean into them. “Will?”
“He’s okay, he’s safe. Mom is with him now.”
You hum again, relishing in the knowledge that Will is okay and that Jonathan is once again here with you. The house is quiet, everyone else asleep, and the two of you lay like this for a while. No more words are said, Jonathan presses kisses against your skin as your fingers interlock through his hair and you run your hand up and down his back. 
Somehow, you know this will be the last time you ever have him like this. 
Just the two of you, uncrossed in any boundaries. Skin against skin, kisses to wounds and fingers intertwined. You hope that your body never forgets the weight of his. You hope that it will always anticipate his impact, welcoming it after a long day. Jonathan’s touch will soon become ghosts lingering on your skin, and selfishly you never want this moment to end. 
Uncrossed boundaries, threads and strings and lines. 
They’re here. You can see them now, they almost glow faintly within Jonathan’s room, the same room in which you grew up in. 
“Bee?” You whisper, nudging him gently to get his attention. He lifts his head from your neck and looks at you, eyes open and listening. “We have to talk about it.”
The early morning light streams through the curtain and illuminates Jonathan’s face. His eyes are a mixture of browns and reds and ambers and you try to remember what they look like now, before the words are said and nothing will ever be the same again. 
“I’m scared,” he admits. You’ve made him into who he is today, with all of his quirks and humor and love. Jonathan doesn’t know who he would be without you, and he’s terrified that he’ll say the wrong thing and lose you forever.
“I know,” you stroke his cheek. “I am, too.”
“I don’t want to–I can’t lose you.”
“You’ll never lose me, Jonathan Byers.” You’re firm in your words, now grasping at his face with your hands. “We’re connected, remember? String theory, you and me.”
Jonathan has tears in his eyes. “But I slept with Nancy.”
His confession only makes you sigh. “I know, bee.”
“I–I think… I think this time it’ll turn into something more. I… I think I love her, bug.” His voice cracks, terrified of his own words. He recognizes now, far too late, all that he’s missed. “But bug… I know there’s–that there’s some things we should’ve talked about. A long time ago… but I just…”
“I know,” you know everything he’s trying to tell you. There’s no hurt in your voice, only resignation, but you knew this would happen eventually. “We missed our chance a while ago.”
“Did we ever really have a chance?” He asks, thinking back to the day the two of you met. How easily you accepted him into your life, the role you unknowingly assigned to him as your best friend. How, for years, he’d been so in love with you but terrified it’d scare you away. 
You play with his fingers, thinking for a moment. “I’d like to think that we did. I think we just… We missed each other, along the way.”
He smiles, bittersweet and somber. “We would’ve been something great, huh?”
“You’re my person,” you tell him, a certain sadness creeping into your voice. It’s the truth. No one will ever know you like he does, no one can unravel you the way he can. The love you have for Jonathan is unyielding, it transcends everything else you’ve ever felt. “Of course we would’ve been something great.”
“And now?”
You bite your lip, unsure. “Now we just… We let go.”
Jonathan tightens his arms and presses himself further against you. “I’m never letting you go, Y/N Henderson.”
You feel tears beginning to form in your eyes, both from grief and acceptance. “You don’t have to, but we have to let go of our claim to one another. You’re Nancy’s, now. It wouldn't be fair otherwise. To anyone.”
“And you’re Steve’s?” He asks, hesitant to bring the boy up. While you watched Jonathan fall in love with Nancy, he’s watched you fall for Steve. 
“I think I could really love him,” you admit, breathless. “I think I’ve already started to fall for him.”
Jonathan’s heart twists at the breathlessness in your voice, though he knows he’ll have to get used to this. To no longer being the reason for your bashfulness. It’ll take time, but he knows in the end that it’s for the better. “You deserve to go for it, bug.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he playfully pokes your side. “Nancy fucked up with him, and I fucked up with you. The two of you deserve better than us, and I… I want you to be happy, you know that.”
“I know, but…” you turn to him now, needing him to understand all that you still don’t know how to voice yourself. “Remember our pinky promise from last year?”
Jonathan wiggles his pinky at you, unsure where you’re going with this. “I do.”
“We’ll always stay like this, right? You and me?” You know it’s selfish to ask, to expect everything to stay the same between you, but losing Jonathan would be the one thing you’d never recover from. He’s in your bones, now. He’s grown up alongside you, patched up your wounds as a child and now holds your hands through the nightmares you face together. 
It doesn’t matter how you and Jonathan end, whether you’re lovers in this universe or simply the best of friends. Regardless of what’s happened, he’s the most important person in your life. He always will be.
Jonathan presses a kiss upon your forehead, his lips warm. “Always, and I’ll always love you the most, bug.”
“I’ll always love you the most, bee.” The words come easily to you, an exhale after being inhaled so long ago. 
The world stills. Then, as slow as the sun rises after a harsh winter’s night, the strings and lines finally settle between you two.
“Let’s go to bed.” Jonathan whispers, wanting to hold onto you for at least a few more hours. 
In the late morning hours the two of you will wake up, and it will be the last time you do so in each other’s arms. 
– 
When Jonathan drops you off at home the next day, your mom freaks when she sees you. Dustin had tried to prepare her, making up some lie about how you’d fallen down at the Byers’ house and that’s why you couldn’t come home for a few days. However, your mom still had a heart attack when you walked through the front door with a split head, black eye, bruised neck, and a bloodied side. 
“My baby!” She took you into her arms and immediately set her eyes on Jonathan. “What, did you have a bear in the house or something?”
Jonathan looked over at Dustin with a helpless look on his face and your brother had sighed. He figured he’d have to be the one to take over. “Like I said, mom. Y/N just got really into our campaign and fell. She’s fine, I mean, look at her!”
You did your best to appear very fine and healthy, despite your concussion forming a horrendous headache. You forced a smile on your face, all teeth. “All fine and dandy, mom.”
Claudia Henderson hadn’t bought it.
You were placed under house arrest for two weeks. 
During these two weeks, you were only allowed to leave the house to either go to work (somehow Mrs. Waters still hasn’t fired you despite missing three days of work), and go to school. It wasn’t so bad, though. You had needed the rest, and Nancy visited you a few days into your house arrest.
You’re not sure when she officially began her relationship with Jonathan, but the first time she came to see you, she had brought a giant basket full of baked goods and comics she had asked Jonathan about. 
“You didn’t have to get me anything, Nance.” You had informed the girl when you saw her struggling to carry the basket. 
“I stole your boyfriend, it’s the least I could do.” You stared at her, eyes so wide that your black eye almost fully opened, and Nancy had let out a loud laugh. You’d never heard her laugh so openly before, and it was a beautiful sight. “It was a joke, Y/N. It’s okay to laugh.”
“Ha, ha, Wheeler.” You took the basket from her and inspected its contents. There were more comics than you could count and the muffins smelled delicious. “This is a good haul.”
Nancy had smiled, relieved that she’d done something right. She had bugged Jonathan all day yesterday, anxious to do something nice for you because she felt this crippling need to make you like her. He had reassured her a million times that you did already like her, but Nancy has never been the best at making friends, and she knows the history between you and her is tense. 
“You really like it?”
“I love it, dude.” You saw the way Nancy’s body relaxed, as if she had been terrified you’d burn the basket in front of her face. It’s only then that you realized why she was there. “You and Jonathan finally seal the deal?”
Nancy blushed, still unused to how well you perceive others. “We did.”
“Took you guys long enough!” You squealed and threw your arms around her, elated for your friends. Sure, it still stung a bit, but Nancy was trying, so you were too. “But can I say just one thing, and then we’ll bury the hatchet for good?”
“Of course, Y/N.” Nancy said, though you felt her body tense underneath your hold. She had been bracing for impact, and it broke your heart to imagine how she was feeling in that moment. 
You grabbed her hand and looked her in the eye. “I’m happy for you two, I really am, okay? You know my history with Jonathan, and I’m sure he’s told you everything, but I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say.”
“I’m listening,” she whispered, gripping your hand tightly. 
“If anything, and I mean anything, bothers you about my relationship with him, I need you to tell me. Don’t let anything simmer, don’t swallow down any hurt. I need you to know that I will always respect your guys’ relationship, and if you ever feel that I don’t, please tell me.”
Nancy, to your surprise, had laughed. “That’s it? Geesh, Y/N. I was expecting you to threaten me with your knives or something. I understand your connection with Jonathan, I know what I agreed to.” She paused, and then added with a sly smirk, “Besides, I know you wouldn’t cross any boundaries because you’ve spent practically all year pining after Steve.”
“I did not!” You gaped at her, shocked that she would say such a thing, and Nancy laughed so hard that it took both you and her another ten minutes to say anything else. It was lovely, laughing alongside the girl you once held so much resentment over. Now there you were, rib cage aching with glee.
And that’s how Nancy Wheeler became your best friend.  
After that, things seemed to settle down during the month that followed the events of Hawkin’s Lab. 
While you healed your wounds at home, Jonathan and Nancy came to visit you whenever they could. It was weird, at first, being in the same room as them now that they were together, but within minutes the three of you formed your own dynamic. You and Nancy teased Jonathan while he simply shook his head at the two of you and did whatever you asked. 
It was a good dynamic, really. 
A week into house arrest, your mom let you finally return to work.
Of course, on your first day back, Steve was standing inside of Bookstrordinary, waiting for you. 
Seeing him there, hair messy and smile warm, felt like coming home. 
“Back so soon?” You had teased, walking slowly up to him. 
His smile widened and he grabbed your hand and tugged you closer, impatient with how long it was taking you to come to him. “Like I could wait any longer.”
“I stack and you sort?”
“Let’s get to work, Henderson.” He winked and spun you around, causing you to giggle, a sound he’d come to adore, and the two of you set off to work. 
Steve becomes a regular at Bookstrorindary again, and one day you come home from school to find him sitting at your kitchen table with Dustin and your mom. They were eating an after school snack together, chatting as if they were old friends. Your mom was even blushing as Steve charmed her. It was a disorienting sight, to say the least. 
“Is this going to be a thing now?” You’d asked, setting your backpack down to grab your own snack and join. 
“I invited him.” Dustin said with a mouth full of apples. “He’s cool, and mom likes him, so. Yeah.”
Your mom pinched Steve’s cheek and giggled. “He’s just so charming!”
Steve sent you a wink, basking in your mother’s praise, and in that moment, seeing him with the two people you loved most in this world, you knew.
It hit you like a warm, soft summer breeze. It swirled around you, kissed your skin the way only the sun can do, and you could almost smell the fresh summer honey that your dad used to buy for your birthday. The feeling was serene, it felt as easy as exhaling.
You were in love with Steve Harrington. 
Only this time, the realization made you smile; you accepted it with open arms. You walked over to him and ruffled his hair before sitting next to him at the table. Biting your own apple, you winked at your mom, agreeing with what she had said. “He is indeed very charming.”
Dustin gagged while Steve draped an arm across your chair and stole your apple. “That I am, Y/N.”
Maybe love wasn’t so bad after all.
The following week, both Steve and Nancy asked you to attend Barb’s funeral, and of course you went. 
It was a small service, and Jonathan held Nancy’s hand throughout all of it. While it hurt to see her cry, you can’t help but think about how incredible Nancy is. She’s the reason that Barb is even getting a funeral in the first place, having brilliantly exposed Hawkin’s Lab and giving her friend the justice she deserves. 
Steve stood next to you, stoic and guilty, and after the service ended you had to pull him aside and remind him that none of it had been his fault. He listened, but you know he hadn’t necessarily heard you.
It’s similar to how you feel with Will, and how Jonathan feels with you, and Nancy with Barb. 
You all hold a heavy weight within you, of guilt and shame and despair. There’s nothing that specifically can be done to lessen it. All you can do is allow the ones you love to carry the weight with you, to share it and accept the help that they offer. 
Time can’t heal all wounds, you recognize this now, so you do things for those you love and see the good that’s still there, even if it’s hard sometimes. 
And that’s what you do.
You start stopping by Hopper’s cabin to see El.
He hated it at first, but when you showed up one day with a box of nail polish and comics, El had been so overjoyed that he simply sighed and let you in. 
You teach the girl how to read, having her say words out loud as you paint her nails, and it’s lovely. It’s rare to get the girl all to yourself, so spending time with her is always the favorite part of your day. Plus, she starts to get really into Spider-Man, so you’ve done your job as an avid fan. 
As for Will and the boys, you start to make it a point to partake in their DnD campaigns whenever possible. While it’s hard balancing work, school, El, and the party, you don’t regret it for a single second. It’s exhausting, but a good kind of exhaustion. One that leaves your bones aching in a rewarding way at the end of the day.
You’ll never tell Jonathan this, but he had been right a few months ago. You’d been burning yourself out, running away from everything you didn’t want to confront, from your feelings to your crippling worry for the kids. You’re not sure how much you had left in you, looking back now.
You had been drowning for a long, long time. 
But as you pick up Dustin and Will from Mike’s, Jonathan by your side as always, your nails painted a messy shade of blue thanks to El, and Steve waiting for you back at your house, you’re finally able to breathe. 
– 
It somehow takes you the entire day to get Dustin ready for the Snowball. 
He’s running around the house, frantically trying to find his bowtie that he’s misplaced, and you’re currently digging through the endless supply of hairspray that Steve dropped off yesterday. There’s so much hair products within the bag that he delivered, and it actually scares you a little. 
No way this much chemicals can be good for a kid. 
“Did you find the bowtie?” You yell from the bathroom, finally managing to open the bottle of hairspray that Steve specifically told you to use first. 
“Yes!” Dustin runs back into the bathroom and throws the piece of fabric at you. “Quick, put it on while I spray my hair!” 
You roll your eyes at him but do as he asks, securing his bowtie to his baby blue button shirt. However, as he sprays his hair, he almost blinds you in the process. “Christ, Dustin! That’s practically a weapon.”
He continues to spray. “You’re the one who insisted on helping me get ready.”
“I wanted you to look handsome,” you coo at him, straightening his bowtie one final time before stepping back and admiring your handiwork. “All done, and look at you!”
Dustin sprays even more product into his hair and tries to shove you out of the bathroom, but he secretly preens. “Am I really handsome?”
You admire him and you can’t believe how grown up he is now. He’s grown another three inches since last month and with the way he’s styled his hair, he looks like a teenager. Your heart stings a bit, seeing him no longer look like the little brother you know and love. He’s changing, growing up. “The handsomest.”
He smiles at you. “Thanks, Y/N. Now go get dressed while I finish my hair. Steve will be here any minute!”
You salute him and run to your room. Nancy had asked you to chaperon alongside her at the dance, and you figured it’d be fun watching Dustin and the party failing miserably with prepubescent girls, so you agreed. However, because it somehow took five hours helping your brother get ready, you run around your room in a hurry.
You’ve just finished applying some mascara when the doorbell rings, and your heart skips a beat.
“Y/N, Steve is here!” Your mother calls, a slight glee in her voice. She’s quickly come to adore the boy, something that Steve milks whenever he can. He’s incredibly proud of it, honestly. 
You run to the door and open it, Dustin is still spraying his hair to death in the bathroom. 
When Steve sees you, he forgets how to speak. You’re dressed in a soft white dress and you’ve pinned the front two pieces of your hair back. You’ve dotted your lips with a berry-red lipstick and your cheeks look more flushed than usual. 
You see the blush that immediately forms on Steve’s cheeks and you giggle, suddenly shy. It’s awkward, but a nice awkward between you two. “Hey.”
“H–hi.” His voice squeaks and he clears his throat. “I–I mean, hey. You, uh… You look. Wow. I mean, not wow, but also wow–”
“Dude,” Dustin now joins and looks disappointedly at Steve. “Get it together, man.”
He pats his chest and starts heading towards the car, and you can’t help but snort. “He’s so lovely, isn’t he?”
Steve holds out his arm for you to take, the momentary awkwardness now gone. “The Henderson charm is a fascinating thing.”
During the car ride, the closer Steve gets to the school, the more you see Dustin fidget in the back seat. He had been so excited earlier, but now you notice the doubt in his eyes and the way he keeps patting his hair, unsure. 
You tap Steve’s hand to get his attention. When he looks over, you motion towards the backseat and he realizes what you’re trying to tell him. He nods, and the two of you silently agree to give the kid a pep talk once you get to the school. 
“Alright, buddy. Here we are.” Steve parks the car and tries to give Dustin a reassuring smile, but your brother looks out the window and exhales nervously. “Remember, once you get in there…”
“Pretend like I don’t care.”
You interrupt. “Okay, no. I thought we abandoned that idea last month.”
“Technically you abandoned it, I didn’t.” Dustin responds, and Steve shrugs his shoulders at you. 
“Dustin, I really want you to be yourself, okay?” You turn to face the kid. “What did I tell you last month, huh?”
“That we Hendersons are charming people.” He grumbles. 
“Exactly, and I meant that. Use your charm, buddy.”
Dustin isn’t listening, instead he tries to look at himself in the rearview mirror to once again fix his hair. Steve sees this and stops him. “Hey, listen to your sister, alright? You look great, okay?”
“Such a handsome lad.”
Steve puts his hand up to stop you. “Okay, ignore her and listen to me. Now, you’re gonna go in there…”
Dustin nods. “Yeah.”
“Look like a million bucks.”
“Yeah!”
“And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead.”
“Like a lion.”
You cringe. “I’m not at all liking this language use in relation to women.”
Dustin purrs, just to spite you, but now Steve cringes and shakes his head, “Yeah, don’t do that, okay?”
“Okay.” Dustin deflates, but when Steve offers him his hand to shake, his face lights back up and he accepts it. 
Steve winks at the kid. “Good luck.”
“You got this!” You shout as Dustin exits the car. He gives you a thumbs up and starts to walk towards the school, leaving just you and Steve alone in the car. 
With Dustin gone, a tension creeps within the car. You look over at Steve and he catches your eye, and your stomach flutters. You can’t deny that there’s nothing there, and it’s… it’s nice, honestly. 
You don’t feel the same fear you did with Jonathan. You can look at Steve and admire his beauty and all you feel is warmth. His smile doesn’t hurt you, and the way he’s looking at you so unabashedly no longer scares you. 
“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve says, his voice honest and dripping with honey. 
You blush, and he wants to kiss the pretty red until it colors his own lips as well. “Thank you.”
There’s more you both want to say, but for now you simply enjoy each other’s presence. It’s too soon, you know this. He’s still in love with Nancy, and you don’t blame him. Instead, you bask in his gaze and he admires how lovely you are. How lovely you always are.
He feels it, too. He knows what you’re thinking, and for once he feels comfortable with where he is. You’re here, next to him, expecting nothing but what you know he’s ready to give you. 
You press a kiss to his cheek, and Steve’s heart aches. “Drive home safe, okay?”
As you pull away, he catches your arm and stops you. You look up, confused, and Steve’s gaze softens. He doesn’t know how else to say it, how else to ask you to stay. “Be patient with me, okay?”
You don’t have to ask what he means; you know. 
Whatever he needs, you’ll give it to him. You place a hand on his face and stroke his cheek, he leans against the touch and closes his eyes. This is the easiest promise you’ve ever made. “Take all the time you need, I’ll be here.”
The words cause Steve to sigh, you’re too good for him. You’re everything lovely and beautiful and kind, and Steve can’t believe how lucky he is to know you, to have you in his life the way no one else does. That you’ll wait for him, trusting him with your heart, and he can’t believe that you’re real.
“You’re an angel.” He breathes out, feeling everything constrict within his chest when you smile. 
“And you’re sweet honey.” You press one last kiss to Steve’s face and get out of the car. No other words are needed. 
Steve watches you as you leave, your kiss still burning his face, the same burning warmth he’s come to love about you. He watches as you walk up to Nancy inside the school and she hands you a drink, the two of you laughing. You both look so different standing side by side. 
A girl Steve loves and the girl he knows that in time he’ll come to love more than anything else. 
He’s already falling for you, he thinks he has been ever since he first saw you all those years ago when you were twelve and he was thirteen. He’s falling for you, but he won’t rush it. It wouldn’t be fair to you, not after everything you’ve been through. 
So Steve admires you, he watches the way your hair dances as you laugh and the way the kids around you smile in admiration. He forgets that Nancy is even there, his eyes only on you, and for the first time in a long time, Steve smiles a real smile. 
Your kiss on his cheek lingers, and he presses his fingers to it and feels his body warm. You’ll be waiting for him, and that’s more than enough for now.
Take your time, I’ll be here.
And Steve believes you.
[END OF SEASON 2]
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gardnhee · 2 months
Text
edging with choi soobin !
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𝜗𝜚 warning(s). pure FILTH, edging (duh), fluff, cursing, combination of praise and degradation, switch!soobin, yn is a little mean :(, soobin is a mess, cum eating, sloppy bj, soobin begs like… ALOT, intentional lowercase - lmk if i missed anything !
𝜗𝜚 switch!soobin x switch!afab!reader
𝜗𝜚 song rec(s). if you think im pretty - artemas, mmmh - kai
𝜗𝜚 wc. 1k
𝜗𝜚 note. yes this is absolute filth, no i am not ashamed. enjoy! ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡
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“f-fuck!” soobin whimpers as you pull your hand away for the nth time today, “baby please…” he breathed, “let me cum, please…” you give him a sly smile, earning a frustrated groan from him.
“you wanna cum?”
his head immediately snaps back to you, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “y-yes..” you grab his dick again, angry red from all the stimulation- or lack thereof- it's been receiving.
soobin moans, the back of his hand placed on his forehead while the other grips the sheets beneath him. his chest heaves, entirely naked as you’re fully clothed. at first he thought it was unfair, but right now that’s the least of his worries. he just wants to cum.
he doesn't know how long you’ve been on your knees, or how long he’s been sitting on the edge of the bed; all he knows is that the familiar coil is building up again. “t-thank you … princess!” soobin strains, violently shaking as his orgasm is right around the corner. within reach. it’s right there…all he needs to do is-
you take your hand away.
he pouts.
“what the hell-!”
“i didn’t say i was going to let you cum, i simply asked if you wanted to cum.”
soobin scowls at your snarky remark, both hands gripping the grey sheets, knuckles turning white.
you snort, “so pathetic.” his cock twitches as he whines, “such a whore.” you grimace, slapping his cheek gently. with your fingers now digging into both sides of his face, you smash your lips together, drinking up every unholy sound shared in between.
to say you were taken aback was far from what you actually felt. your boyfriend - now reduced to a moaning, drooling mess- didn’t believe you could get him to this state…oh he was terribly wrong.
“you … what?”
“i want you to take the lead today, yn.” soobin stared at you with intent, “i want to see what you can do.” he smirks, leaning over the table, dinner long forgotten.
“are you underestimating me, choi soobin?”
“hmmm, maybe? but you can always prove me wrong..” his eyes travel to your shared bedroom, jutting his chin towards it.
and that’s how you ended up here, straddling him as his hard on rests on your stomach, standing tall and proud as it desperately awaits its release.
“baby - mff - please…” tears are brimming his eyes.
“hm? please what?” you taunt him, you always taunt him, and he curses himself for liking it more than he could admit.
“i need it … please.” soobin hiccups, tears now falling from his lash line. you bite your lip as you feel his hands squeeze your ass. he just looked so…fucking good.
disheveled blonde hair, a sheer coat of sweat covering his body, and drool pooling at the corners of his mouth. just a mess. a moan inducing mess. you’re nothing away from handing him the reigns and letting him use you however he damn well pleased.
you sigh, “fine. fine! i’ll let you have it just this once.” he eagerly smiles, hugging you tight as he presses his face into your chest.
“thank you…” soobin’s tears seep into your - his - shirt, making you shudder as they made contact with the skin underneath.
“i was going to walk out on you just like you do to me, but i’m feeling generous today.” he playfully gasps as you reveal your initial plan, kneeling down between his thighs once more. you quietly wince as the pain flourishes again, spreading along your leg muscles considering you’ve been putting pressure on them for hours.
you grab his dick, heavy and hot in hand. one thing about your boyfriend, he’s big. like…big. making space for him in your mouth was always a challenge no matter how many times you’ve done just that; you’re beyond grateful that he guides you through it with small, breathy praises and coos.
“yeah…just like that…careful…” soobin’s voice turned husky, propping himself on his elbows as he watched you bob your head. his eyebrows knit together in pure concentration, relishing in the intense pleasure. teeth sink into his swollen lips, holding any and all noises from slipping.
you pop him out of your mouth, “don’t hold back, you haven’t until now…” his cheeks turn bright red, nodding obediently.
“good boy.” soobin gulps, following your every movement. you wrap your lips around his shaft, “ah!- be careful i’m sensitive…” he utters, body continuously shaking as you sink your head until your nose taps his pubic bone.
“f-fuck im close…”
you hum in approval, greedily ripping a loud hiss from his throat. “you’re s-so fucking…” he starts, head falling back, “so fucking good, baby…” hand flying up to your head, he pushes you down, gag emanating from your sore throat as more saliva dribbles down your chin and onto his base.
you swirl your tongue, feeling every prominent vein that basically pulsates to the touch. “‘m cumming…!” soobin announces, trembling as his orgasm hits him like a wave. incoherent words that you doubt could ever become proper sentences.
you smile as his load hits your throat. “don’t swallow, dollface.” he leans forward, cupping your cheeks, “open.” the blonde haired boy demands, “mmmh.” he smiles, kissing you passionately. the older male smirked against your skin as his juices fall on his tongue. the whole act of cum eating was so intriguing to him- beyond arousing, he thought.
“c’mere.” he wraps his arms around your waist, manhandling you to sit on him again. “it’s your turn, yeah?” your boyfriend says, eyes zeroing in on your neck, then your collarbones. “by the way, you look so sexy in my shirt.” he connects his lips to your supple skin as you feel yourself relax under his hold.
“soobin?”
“hm?”
“i love you.”
he pulls back, beaming smile tugging at his lips, “oh, baby, i love you more.” he gives you a quick peck.
“here, lay down,” he instructs.
“what are you planning?” you frown, brows quirking up in wonder.
“i want to return the favor.”
you shake your head, “no baby, it’s okay. i did this out of pure pleasure. i don’t expect anything back.”
“you sure, love?”
“yes, soobinnie. i want to cuddle.”
he lays in bed with you, completely disregarding the fact that he’s sweaty and naked. but you didn’t mind as you lie your head on his firm chest, falling asleep to his steady heartbeat.
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© GARDNHEE 2024, do not copy, modify, or upload on other platforms
𝜗𝜚 big thanks from the bottom of my heart to my amazing proofreader @heartryuu 🤍🤍
𝜗𝜚 this was mainly a smut practice, im not the best at it just yet but i do intend to practice more. also im sorry if the ending felt rushed 🙁 i wrote it in a hurry!!! please like, comment, and reblog. i would highly appreciate that 🫶.
𝜗𝜚 taglist. @stvrliighttt @strawbvrrie @haob1ni (lmk if you’d like to be added to my taglist!!)
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pacifymebby · 9 months
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I cry when people yell at me(parent issues™️) and I was wondering how the peakys would react to that, like I can handle most things but yelling is like a big nono for me, would they be concerned or tease me for that, I don't think they will but I'm interested on how they'll react to it for the first time it happens, or if I yell back for the first time? You just do a great job at writing these characters💛
( im sorry if this is too personal or whatever)
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AN: not too personal my lovely dw, here at Pacifymebby dot Tumblr dot com we (me) totally specialise in ✨ fanfiction as therapy ✨ haha. Sorry these have taken me ages to do. I'm also a crier when men shout at me so I hope I've written this how you wanted!!!!
Tommy
🌿 Is genuinely very shocked when, mid argument, you start crying. You've seen so much worse than this, you've witnessed some terrible things because of him and his brothers, the fights they get into every week. Only last week you'd watched with as calm a demeanour as one could manage, whilst Arthur had a violent breakdown and smashed a chair up at the dinner table. You'd not shown a shred of fear. But now, here you are, silent, heartbreaking tears streaming down your face and why?
🌿 because Tommy raised his voice at you.
🌿 you couldn't even remember what you'd been arguing about now. You'd seen red and blue fear in your mind the second he'd raised his voice. You'd watched him lose his temper with you, his jaw tense, his face going red as he yelled at you, his expression so angry, so cold and unforgiving. And it had shocked you. Tommy had never raised his voice at you before. You'd seen him shout at his brothers but he'd never shouted at you.
🌿 and the sight of you suddenly drained of colour, your skin taking on that strange bloodless translucency as you starred back at him wide eyed and fearful... it shocks him. You're looking at him like you don't recognise him and suddenly there's a lump in his throat.
🌿 He reaches out for you but you flinch away from him, backing away slowly and then suddenly fleeing, running away, vision blurred by your tears. You don't really know where to go and you can here him calling after you, but his voice raised shouting down the hallway for you only makes it worse. Only adds to your fear.
🌿 you're certain that you're in trouble so you don't stop even when he calls after you. Thing is he hasn't even said he's sorry. Hasn't realised why you're running from him.
🌿 "Y/N love for fuck sake what're you doin... we need to talk about this... Y/n stop!"
🌿 He's chased you out to the gardens, still shouting, still not getting the hint... it's only when he shouts again, louder this time, screaming your name across the lawn that you freeze. His voice seems to shake the whole world and it strikes the fear of god into you. So you stop. And he thinks thats the problem solved, that you've stopped running away from him now so he can return to you and you can talk like grownups.
🌿 but when he gets closer to you you back away some more, and even when he warns you to wait for him you edge away. Every step he takes you take one back until you find yourself backed up against a tree, looking at him with all this fear in your eyes.
🌿 He's careful as he approaches, one arm out to you, trying to coax you back to him... he can see that something has absolutely terrified you but it's only when he gets close enough to touch you, only when he brings his hand up to fix your hair that he realises what you're scared of.
🌿 "Don't hurt me!" You gasp, eyes squeezed shut, your body rigid with fear as you bring your hands up to protect your face. And it's that which makes him realise. That movement, that fragile tremble in your voice as you beg him not to harm you that breaks his heart.
🌿 and the realisation hits him like a freight train, chokes him. He can't believe you're frightened of him. He can't believe it's him who has caused you all this terror. You're trembling, your hands shaking the way a rabbit shakes when it knows it's being hunted.
🌿 He let's out a sigh, closes his eyes and tried to steady his own shaken nerves. He doesn't want to scare you anymore.
🌿 "Y/n, angel listen to me girl, I'm not going to hurt you..." he says, his voice a gentle caress as he takes your trembling hands in his, draws them away from your face and places them on his chest. He holds then both to his heart underneath his hand and with the other he cups your cheek. Makes you look up at him, catches your tears with his thumb and brushes them away.
🌿 "I scared you," he says looking at you ever so mournfully, he feels so guilty and you can see the hurt in his eyes. It just makes you feel worse and you shake your head trying to apologise. You can feel his heart beating beneath your hands, it's racing, his adrenaline too high and you feel guilty yourself because you made him angry.
🌿 "I'm.. I'm so sorry Tommy I made you angry I shouldn't have pissed you off its not..." but he cuts you off, finger pressed to your lips to hush you as he steps closer to you, his body so close to yours that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His head is bowed to look down at you.
🌿 "Shh now angel I'm talkin yeah, my turn to talk now eh so listen to me..." he's being ever so gentle, his hand holding your hip, the other tucking your hair behind your ear and stroking your cheek. He doesn't look harsh or sharp anymore, instead of anger his eyes are full of love. "Don't you apologise to me sweetheart, please don't do that... I'm sorry I shouted at you angel, shouldn't have done that but listen to me now eh cause this is important..."
🌿 You can't take your eyes off him, you're still shaking, still crying, your hearts still racing, but you're not frightened anymore. He's looking down at you with such an intense honesty, you can see the remorse in his eyes when he talks to you in that sweet gentle voice.
🌿 "I will never hurt you alright, I promise... even if I'm angry yeah, even if we're havin a blazing bloody row, I won't ever lay a finger on you like that sweetheart, I won't ever hurt you.."
🌿 You'd probably start crying all over again, burying your face in his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you and hold you tight. His hand stroking your back as he bows his head to place a kiss on yours. He'd cradle your head against his body and rest his chin in your hair. Close his eyes, hold onto you tight and treasure the feeling of you in his arms.
🌿 "You really fuckin scared me Tommy..." you'd sniffle struggling to calm yourself down.
🌿 "I know angel, I know and I'm really fuckin sorry alright..."
Alfie
🐻 He didn't mean to shout, Alfie's never raised his voice at you before because he doesn't believe in shouting at women and girls. He has a very firm, traditional view on that and he's stubborn about it too. No swearing, shouting and hitting women and girls.
🐻 The only reason he shouted is because he panicked, you were wandering around in a daydream so you hadn't noticed the tension in the bakery when you'd entered through the back door on your way to see your beloved. Tommy Shelby had just left, informing Alfie that he'd set up a trip wire to ensure his safety, that if he tugged on the string in his hand he would pull the pin from a grenade which would blow up half the bakery, starting a monstrous fire which would probably kill all inside. All those barrels of rum would go up in flames.
🐻 And you were one step from tripping that string which Tommy had tied to the leg of Alfies desk all, "I'll let you deal with this, have a think about what I've said whilst you work eh, careful though, its a delicate procedure..."
🐻 So when he'd seen you Alfie hadn't thought twice, shouting "Y/N stop! Stay there, fuckin don't move!" and luckily you'd frozen. Your body going rigid as the fear struck you like lightning.
🐻 He'd startled you for sure but more than that the sound of his voice ricochetting around the room, the voice of a man who was usually so tender and gentle with you, always so protective of you.. He'd never spoken to you like that and hearing it now struck ice cold fear into the very bones of you.
🐻 Alfie doesn't even notice at first, doesn't notice how you've gone white as a sheet, can't even move, he's too worried about that wire, too busy trying to work out what to do. Hoping there's a chance Tommy was bullshitting him. Hoping that actually there's nothing to fear.
🐻 And poor you, you're just stood there, hand clutched over your mouth starring at your love in shock. You don't know what to do because you don't want to embarrass yourself by bursting into tears over a little shouting, but you already know it's too late. Alfie really scared you, and he's never scared you before.
🐻 So you can't hold it back, you're trembling all over with the effort of fighting your tears, some have already escaped, you've swallowed down a sob already but it's the fact that Alfie's not even looking at you. The way he shouted at you so sharply, so harshly, and he isn't even looking at you now. You're struggling to reason with your own anxiety, convinced that you've done something wrong, that he hates you...
🐻 but then he hears it. The sound of your choked sob, one you'd tried and failed to hold back. And once the first escapes the damn breaks and you're in floods of tears. You don't move, frozen to the spot but your hands are over your face and your crying so mournfully that the sound sends an icy shard through Alfie's heart. Suddenly the hidden explosive is the least of his worries.
🐻 "Fuck," he grumbles to himself, telling himself off for snapping at you, "gentle Alfie what have I fuckin told you man, sometimes yeah you have to be fuckin gentle..." he's grumbling to himself as he reassesses his predicament. He knows he needs to get to you and get you to safety but he knows he can't get to you without risking your safety.
🐻 So he sighs. "Ziskeit, my dear, y/n poppet I'm sorry yeah, didn't mean to shout at you ziskeit, didn't mean to shout.. that was just me you know... panickin right, but I shouldn't have shouted at you yeah lovely girl I'm sorry..." he's making his way towards you very slowly and very carefully, talking soft and gentle, hands out because he doesn't want to startle you. His eyes flickering with concern between you and the wire you almost tripped.
🐻 "See my ziskeit, down there right by your feet yeah, there's a wire right and I need you to be very careful cause it's very dangerous yeah..." he doesn't want to scare you more than he already has but he also doesn't want you to move and accidentally set it off.
🐻 When he finally gets to you he doesn't hesitate to wrap his big arms around you and give you the warmest, tightest bear hug. He holds you firm against his chest, strokes your hair and cradles your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His beards tickley on your cheek and you're all wrapped up in the comfort of his musky scent.
🐻 "There, there my little ziskeit, s'alright now yeah, your Alfie's got you my darlin an he ain't lettin you go.."
🐻 He takes your hands from your face, won't let you hide and then he wipes your tears away with his thumbs. You can't just turn the waterworks off though and the tears keep coming.
🐻 Alfie feels so guilty.
🐻 But he'd hold your face in his hands and put his forehead against yours, looking down into your watery wounded eyes with such an intense devotion.
🐻 "Didn't mean to scare you poppet, please don't be scared now yeah, I'm here, I love you... I didn't mean to shout."
🐻 He'd probably call Ollie or one of his trusted men for help, he'd be instructing them on how to undo and disarm Tommy's trap, all the while still holding you and hushing you. The contrast between the way he barks orders at his men and then turns to you with the most tender, soft voice, shushing you and stroking your hair.
🐻 Promises he'll never shout at you again, but also, because he knows what he's like he also promises that if he does raise his voice at you, it won't be because he's angry and it won't be because he hates you. It'll be because he'd a stupid old man who forgets himself sometimes.
🐻 You'd sniffle, this shy smile on your lips as you tell him "you're not a stupid old man..." and he'd just chuckle, kiss your nose and brush your hair away from your tear stained cheeks, probably catching another tear on his thumb. "I am for making my ziskeit cry, but, you have my word now don't you girl, ain't ever gonna make you cry again..."
🐻 It's a big promise but Alfie is truly devoted to you and so protective of you that he really does hold it against himself forever. He's always viewed himself as your protector so the idea that you were scared of him is horrifying to him. He really does intend to keep his promise.
🐻 Will set a rule in the bakery and the warehouses that if you're around nobody is to raise their voice for any reason. He'll spin some bullshit about how it's very fucking rude and inconsiderate to shout when there are women and children present. If anyone breaks that rule Alfie will not hesitate to silence them in his own special way.
Arthur
🍂 It's probably not the first time this has happened let's be real here, this is probable not even the first time this has happend this week...
🍂 Arthur's emotions aren't exactly the easiest thing to endure... for either of you. He has a quick temper and he doesn't know how to express himself. If he's scared he turns to violence, if he's upset, he turns to violence, if he's angry, violence... even when he's happy or excited something usually gets broken, he usually forgets himself, talks too loudly... shouts...
🍂 And even though you're used to Arthur and his loud, uncontrollable and often unpredictable ways, you've never been able to get used to his yelling. You've always been easily startled and people yelling, raised voices has always set you on edge. And when someone shouts at you well, you always cry. You can't help yourself and you feel so stupid for it sometimes too... especially when it's Arthur who has made you cry because you know you should be used to it by now. You know what he's like... when he shouts and you start crying you always feel like a stupid child who can't control her own emotions.
🍂 But Arthur understands how that feels. It's not like he can control his either...
🍂 So of all the Blinders Arthur is the most sympathetic. It's not just that he feels terribly guilty for making you cry, it's that he hates how bad about yourself it makes you feel too and he wants you to learn not to be so hard on yourself.
🍂 So, he's always trying his best not to shout, for whatever reason... sometimes he comes home ecstatic about something that happened at the Garrison, he's half way through shouting through the house for you when he cuts himself off.
🍂 "Nah what have I fuckin told you Arthur Shelby, indoor voice for y/n, nice, gentle indoor voice..."
🍂 But of course this is Arthur and no matter how hard he tries he forgets himself and loses control on the regular. And when he does you also lose control... Arthur is an intimidating man at the best of times and when he shouts he is so fucking scary... especially when he's shouting because he's angry, and especially if he's shouting because he's arguing with you...
🍂 When that happens you probably don't just cry, you burst into tears, really dramatically... you'd shrink away from him, curl up on the floor crying your heart out, shaking, sobbing into your skirts and then when he realises what he's done it hits him in the gut and he does cold, panicks. He feels so guilty for scaring you again and rushes to try and hug.
🍂 Gets down there on the floor with you and bundles you up in his arms. His whole demeanor changes in an instant, all the fight knocked out of him in seconds as he rushed to comfort you.
🍂 Cradles you to his chest, rocking you to sooth you as he apologises over and over again. "For fuck sake darlin come here, fuckin 'ell I'm such a bloody idiot, I'm sorry my darlin I'm fuckin so sorry alright... didnt mean to scare you girl, y'know I love you don't I, ain't gonna hurt you, didn't mean to scare you just forgot meself that's all, you're alright my girl, I've got you eh, your Arthur loves you very much an he's very fuckin sorry for being such a fuckin dinlow eh..."
🍂 You'd be clutching at his shirt, sobbing into his chest, doing your best to calm yourself down, mentally chastising yourself for being so stupid because you know he didn't mean it, you know it was an accident, that you're safe with Arthur, that he won't ever hurt you... but even so, he scared you so much...
🍂 you'd push yourself up in his lap and try to wipe your tears away, probably trying to pull away from him and act as though everything was fine even though all you want to do is nestle deeper into his embrace and hold onto him until your heart stops racing.
🍂 And Arthur knows you well enough to recognise what you're doing so he isn't going to just let you go and pretend you're fine.
🍂 "Right now where dya think you're goin darlin..." he'd start, catching your hand and tugging you back into his lap, his arm locking around your waist, the other hand using his sleeve to dry your eyes. "Look at me yeah, got all the time in the world eh so I don't know what you're rushin off for darlin..."
🍂 "S'alright I'm alright now Arth was just being stupid wasn't I, you didn't scare me it's fine just bein..." but he'd cut you off shaking his head, giving you that frown which means 'dont give me all that rot y/n, I know you.'
🍂 "Nah," he'd say, "now don't start with all that shit now darlin, not wi me eh, I did scare you and you ain't stupid for bein scared neither... you ain't stupid at all..." "but..." when you try to argue he holds your face in both hands, your nose pressed up against his, his scruffy hair tickling your cheek as he gets right up close to you. His eyes are so intense when they lock with yours. "No buts now sweetheart, I fuckin scared you, I know I did and I'm fuckin sorry for it too... I'm the one who lost control so I'm the one who has to apologise right love, so I'm fuckin sorry yeah sweetheart, I hate scaring you an I never wanna do it again yeah... need to start using me fuckin brain eh love..."
🍂 But you hate seeing him put himself down so you're there holding his face in your hands too, looking up at him with such intensity, such stubbornness, it would be infuriating for him if he didn't currently feel so guilty. "You're not a fuckin idiot Arthur... don't call yourself stupid alright..."
🍂 For you and Arthur these scenes always end in the most loving of embraces, him holding you tight against him, you sitting in his lap on the floor, the two of you holding onto one another so carefully, so lovingly, your eyes locking as you tell eachother again how much you love one another. Your lips meeting in a desperate adoring kiss. One neither of you want to pull away from.
🍂 "Fuckin love you my darlin, don't even mean to upset you eh, I'll try harder yeah, Indoor voice from now I promise..." he says in as close to a whisper as Arthur Shelby can manage, kissing your face all over. Kissing away the last of your tears.
🍂 He always promises he won't shout at you again, you always promise you'll stop crying when he does. Both of you know that in a couple days time you'll be going over the whole routine again.
John
🌼 For all that John is a very laidback man, he has a temper on him and he has a very strict sense of morals, right and wrong (despite all of his moral activities) and when he feels strongly about something he will argue about it... and he has a temper on him.
🌼 When he loses his temper things can get messy, too emotional... He doesn't usually lose him temper with you though and so when he does it comes as even more of a shock.
🌼 He doesn't mean to start shouting at you, he already knows you don't deal well with it... Your voices have both been raising slowly as the arguments been escalating and when he finally starts really shouting you shout right back...
🌼 He didn't even realise he'd shouted until he heard your voice shouting back... suddenly cracking because you're trembling, because you've been fighting back your tears and they've just escaped.
🌼 He sees the tears streaming down your face and realises that you aren't even shouting because you're angry, your shout was one of fear. A "Stop it! Stop fucking shouting at me John fucking stop it!" Your hands over your ears as you shout at him from across the kitchen table, your eyes desperate with heartache and fear.
🌼 For a second you're looking at him with real upset and shock, like you don't recognise him at all, like he isn't your John anymore...
🌼 He feels terrible. He's gripped with guilt, a pain in his throat squeezing and aching, he's choked up by tears in his own eyes. Sometimes feelings are too big and John can't handle them.
🌼 Views himself as being the good family man, a loving, caring husband, a protective father, the man who looks after everyone, provides for them, so the idea that he could have done to his wife the one things she really can't handle, disgusts him. He's really disappointed in himself and he's determined to make it up to you.
🌼 He'd raise his hands up in surrender, his eyes full of guilt, his cheeks a little flushed as a tear escapes his eye, he's stepping away from the table, approaching you cautiously.
🌼 "Am sorry flower, I'm sorry..." his voice is wobbling but he's talking quietly now, as if lowering his voice like this is going to make up for the violence of his shouting at you moments before... and it does a little, or at least, his sudden effort to be gentle and careful calms you, lets you know you're not in danger.
🌼 He'll wrap his arms around you carefully, waiting for you to come to him, waiting for you to let him hold you. But when you feel the outline of his embrace you crumble, throwing your arms around him, sobbing into his neck as he closes his hold around you a little tighter, keeping you secure.
🌼 He'll hush you and rock you, doing his best to calm you down, all the while apologising for losing his temper.
🌼 "I'm so sorry little flower, I shouldn't have shouted at you, shouldn't have lost me temper that was fuckin stupid of me wasn't it..."
🌼 Lots of kissing your hair and your forehead. Will hold you as long as you need to calm down.
🌼 Will wipe your tears and tap your nose. Will hold your face in both his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheeks, forehead to forehead promising you very passionately that he'll never shout at you like that again. You can see it in his eyes how strongly he feels, he's got tears in his eyes and he's perhaps crying a little too. He's talking but his jaw is clenched and the words are forced through his teeth so they come out really shaky but certain.
🌼 You catching his tears on your thumbs and brushing them away. The two of you eventually smiling at that, making a little joke about how over emotional you both are.
🌼 If you try to apologise for having cried, or if you try to joke about your tears, how silly it was of you to cry just because he shouted at you he will shake his head, cut you off all "no, no... no way flower, you ain't silly for cryin, you ain't supposed to like bein shouted at and your husband definitely ain't supposed to be shoutin at you like that neither..."
🌼 He'll be extra sweet to you for many days to come, bringing you flowers, talking particularly gently to you too. Lots of affection, hugs, kisses, holding your hand whenever he can, layering it on thick so that you know he still loves you... he knows how sensitive you are and knows that you'll still be worrying about the argument days later, so he'll do as much as he can to show you he loves you.
🌼 Once during a particularly heated family meeting Tommy shouted down the table at you for something you said, John was livid, white as a sheet with rage as he put his arms around you and stood protectively behind you. He was glaring so sharply his stare could have sliced Tommy open. Later you heard them scrapping when everyone else had left.
Bonnie
🍀 Bonnie is such a calm lad, he never shouts even when he's threatening other people. He's not the kind of man who raises his voice unless he really has to, he's usually the quietly threatening, controlled anger, spitting his threats through gritted teeth, not yelling...
🍀 It would take one hell of an argument, you'd both be feeling fragile and desperate, both of you shaking with he strength of the heartache and distress you're feeling.
🍀 Whatever you're fighting about it's been brewing for awhile so you both have so many thoughts, so many troubled feelings you need to get off your chest...
🍀 And when he does shout its because he feels a sudden panic, has a sudden fear that he will never be able to explain himself, never be able to make you understand... it's a truly desperate shout, almost a plea... "Would you just listen to me for a second love I'm trying to..."
🍀But he doesn't even finish the sentence, the second he realises he's yelled at you he feels a wee bit sick, his hands shaking and suddenly he can't speak at all. He's watching you, you're frozen, starring back at him with these terrifyingly sad wide eyes...
🍀 he can see he's just broken your heart.
🍀 For a moment theres silence, you're just starring back at him in shock, he's watching you, scared to move or say another word because if he does he's worried something between you will break. That you're both hanging on by a thread.
🍀 And when the thread snaps and you come back to life, your hand rising to cover your mouth and catch your sob, your eyes closing as your whole body shivers with the effort of fighting back tears, Bonnie watches you with this hollow weight in his stomach, this cold lump of guilt.
🍀 Swallows a lump in his throat, his voice quiet and shaky when he speaks again.
🍀 "Fuck, fuck I'm so sorry dove... don't cry, don't cry dove I'm sorry," he's speaking softly, hesitant to try and hug you because he saw the fear in your eyes and he's not sure you want him to come any closer now. "Please forgive me y/n I'm sorry, can I..." he trails off reaching for your hand, tugging you gently into his arms.
🍀Whatever you were fighting about it simultaneously ceases to matter to him and also becomes completely unsolvable...he's scared youre never going to look at him the same way again. He's supposed to be your man, your protector, the one person you can always trust and now he's let you down, he's scared you... he really resents himself for that, can't forgive himself for scaring you.
🍀"I'm sorry little dove," he'd whisper, his voice soothing, his breath brushing your cheek as he promises he won't shout like that again, "s'okay sweetpea, s'alright..." but he doesn't feel like its alright.
🍀 He'll hold you as snug as he can, but carefully too, treating you extra delicately, he's really hesitant to hug you too tightly or kiss you in case you're scared of him now.
🍀 "Don't be scared of my dove, you're breakin me heart," he says it with a teasing little smile, trying to get a giggle from you or something but you can hear the heartbreak in his voice and you know he's really telling the truth.
🍀 When you settle down a little you nuzzle into him, "Sorry Bon..." you sniffle trying to dry your eyes, caught out and speechless when he catches your hands in his and, strokes his thumbs over your palms. "What you sayin sorry for eh sweetpea? Am the one whose sayin sorry now..." he chuckles, holding your palm up to his lips and kissing your hands.
🍀 Even if you feel better quickly, soothed by Bonnie's sweetness, he won't feel better about it. The guilt will stick with him for a long time, one of those memories that comes back in the middle of the night and makes him cringe.
🍀 He's extra soft with you for the rest of the day and the morning after too, treating you like he's scared you're going to break. He speaks quietly and gently and he'll treat you with such tenderness, holding you at every opportunity, holding your hand even if you're just sitting together. Any excuse to kiss you or tell you he loves you.
🍀 Because he knows how upset you get when someone yells at you, if anyone else ever makes you cry by raising their voice at you Bonnie's fierce protective side will snap and he will be raring to defend you. You have had to talk him down from fights because of this.
Isaiah
🐀 He'll be so shocked when you start crying... he's seen you witness so much "worse" than shouting before... so he really wasn't expecting you to burst into tears when a drunk man at the bar raised his voice at you. He turns with a frown, brows tugged in in confusion as he blinks at you struggling to process the sight of you with tears streaking your face. He honestly didn't think anything could phase you...
🐀 For a second he's stunned but he soon snaps into action... "For fuck sake man now look what you've done!" He groans turning to the man behind your tears, "gone and made me girl cry ain't you... now I have to hurt ya..." he says with a cruel grin, as if he hadn't been intending on hurting the stupid cunt who'd been eyeing his girl up with lecherous eyes all evening anyway. "Don't get me wrong like... I wanted to anyway yeah, you've just given me a good excuse..."
🐀 Once he's satisfied he's fucked the stupid bastard up enough, he turns his attention back to you. He's not expecting to see you still crying, in fact he'd kind of been hoping he'd just imagined it, been hoping he was just going crazy like Arthur... but he isn't, and you are still crying.
🐀 And Isaiah isn't good with crying girls, doesn't know what to do about all those tears, feels totally at a loss.. especially because he's never seen you cry before.
🐀 will try to joke about it, not teasing you harshly, just making a little joke about how 'easily' scared it turns out you are... "You had me fooled mousy..."
🐀 This earns him a pretty firm slap from Ado who's jaw has just hit the floor... "Fuck sake dinlow whatre you doing making it bloody worse!" She'd be all arms crossed and shaking her head, muttering about how men these days are all the fucking stupid same.
🐀 but her slaps gotten through to Isaiah at least who is looking at you now with a somewhat more awkward smile, but he takes your hand and offers you a hug. This is the most stunted a conversation with Isaiah could possibly be and you're beginning to feel a whole different kind of anxious.
🐀 "Right for fuck sake, I've had enough of this.." Ada cuts in, "you.. give your girlfriend a fuckin hug alright," she'd say pointing at Isaiah and then pointing at you, "and you.. god sake girl get yourself a better fuckin boyfriend eh?"
🐀 "Alright Ada piss off yeah I've got her, she's alright now ain't you mousy..." Isaiah would groan, he's embarrassed by Ada pointing out his flaws but hes showing it as frustration instead. He will take her advice onboard however, he isn't that stupid.
🐀 He'll put his arm around your shoulder and squeeze you into his side steering you outside for a cigarette and some cool night air. He knows you'll be embarrassed about crying so he wants to take you somewhere quiet.
🐀 "Sorry for laughing at you doll you just took me by surprise... ain't like you is it... crying..." he'll say gently, he's sharing a cigarette with you, taking a drag or two and then placing it between your lips carefully. This is something he only does when he's trying to make you feel extra close and cosy with him.
🐀 He's quite curious about it, wants to understand why you cried, wants to know what it is about raised voices that you just can't deal with. And this curiosity isn't so that he can mock you, it's so that he can help you. He never wants to see you cry like that again so he wants to help you get over your fear...
🐀 He will offer you lots of reassurance, "you know I'm always here for you love, won't ever let anyone hurt you yeah... so even if someone does shout at you you ain't got nothin to be scared of yeah?"
🐀 He'll remind you that now you're with the Peaky Blinders you're always going to have someone near by to protect you. That men like "that cunt inside" will think twice about raising their voice at you...
🐀 Will hold your hand for the rest of the night, giving it reassuring squeezes at seemingly random moments. His affections will be subtle but constant all night and he'll make sure you feel safe.
🐀 If ever he shouts when you're nearby he'll remember himself quickly, apologising to you as soon as he can, making sure you're alright. If other Peaky lads chastise him for this he'll sock them round the back of the head no hesitations.
🐀 He's too easy going and because he doesn't want to shout at you, he avoids arguments like the plague, he'd rather just let most things slide until an issue absolutely has to be addressed because he's worried that if he gets swept into a row with you he won't be able to stop himself from losing his temper. He isn't sure yet whether this tactic is going to serve him well.
Michael
☘️ Its a heated argument, one which really give meaning to the phrase "blazing row." You and Michael are both furious with one another over a disagreement which has been stewing and bubbling away for weeks. One about Tommy Shelby and the unreasonable pressure he puts on his younger cousin.
☘️ When the row started it was because you wanted Michael to stand up to his cousin, you'd tried to encourage him to put his foot down, to start saying no every now and then when Tommy's demands crossed boundaries, but Michael didn't want to. he said you didn't understand the family, that you were sticking your nose into something which doesn't concern you.
☘️ And because you care so much about Michael you can't let go, won't back down. And because he cares about you and doesn't want you winding up in trouble Michael refuses to back down too. And thats how you end up screaming at one another in the middle of breakfast one morning.
☘️ He's so angry he doesn't notice that you aren't just shouting to match his fierce temper. He doesn't notice that you're trembling all over, that your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are wide and white - more like a deer in the headlights than a dragon.
☘️ The argument would peak with you unleashing all your fear and hurt, all your desperation into one shattering scream, "Leave me alone Michael for fuck sake leave me alone!" you shout over your shoulder when you go running off into the garden and he follows. HE doesn't listen however and it takes you picking a rock up and throwing it in his direction for him to get the message and let you go.
☘️ You run away for the rest of the day, go disappearing down the lane storming into the park up the street, finding a bench or a tree to sit beneath, hugging your knees to your chest and sobbing into your skirts.
☘️ Meanwhile at home Michael is pissed off, pacing, getting angry, damaging furniture as his temper gets the better of him. He's fuming, he can't get his head around why you ran away. Why you were so upset. . He thinks you behaved childishly and doesn't understand why you ran off like a little girl...
☘️ It takes you both a long time to calm down and when you do you really don't want to go back to the house, so you go to Polly's instead, you don't tell her about the row but you drink tea with her and wait for Michael to turn up. (Pol assures you he always comes to her when you've been fighting)
☘️ And when he does show up that evening he's been drinking whiskey and his mood is bitter and self pitying.
☘️ "Let me guess Michael my boy, you and y/n had a row... she got upset, she ran away, she..." "Came here," he smirks shaking his head with a small self deprecating smile, "hiya love..."
☘️ He won't apologise for shouting because you were shouting too, and because Michael never apologises for anything. But he will pour the two of you some tea and try to talk to you a little more softly than before.
☘️ "You worried me love, running away from me like that...gave me a scare..." "You were shouting at me," you shrug sullenly. He would be struggling not to let his temper flare again. "You were shouting at me too to be fair love... and anyway, you're not a little girl are you, you don't run away from someone just for shouting..."
☘️ You'd bristle, getting defensive, fresh tears glossing your eyes then, a painful lump in your throat when you realise he doesn't understand and maybe isn't going to.
☘️ "No," you say, voice catching in your throat, "but what kind of man likes screaming at his girl?" When you ask him that he won't be able to ignore the guilt he feels. He'll be struggling to swallow down the lump in his throat too and he'll reach for your hand across the table, brush his thumb over your knuckles as he looks you in the eyes, tries to find an unspoken equilibrium between the two of you. Something to two of you can hold onto despite your differences.
☘️ "Alright," he says finally, let's out a little sigh and squeezes your hand. "No more shouting eh how does that sound?"
☘️ When you nod your head, your smile forming slow but wide, he mirrors your warm expression and leans back in his chair, tugs your hand across the table so that you'll stand and come sit down in his lap.
☘️ "No more shouting it is then y/n," he says holding your waist in his hands, feeling closer to you at last, enjoying the comfort of your familiar shape beneath his hands. He'll point to his cheek then all, "come on love, give us a kiss eh? Forgive me?" and he'll wait until you do lean in to place a kiss on his cheek before he catches yours in his palm and steers your mouth towards his.
AN/ hope these were what you were hoping for lovely, I honestly am not sure I've done your request justice but I don't think I can write much more so sorry about that :/
Taglist:
@jomarch-wannabe @zablife @call-sign-shark @marwwfairy@toddlerbodybag@mollybegger-blog@inalovesrabbits-blog @elina-777@impossibleheartflower@liliac-dreamer@everysage@itsghostgirlyo
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n1nicou · 3 months
Text
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Loves wound, loves cure
pairings: dallas winston x reader
summary: dallas winston is a stubborn man, causing a fight between the two of you. but when you come to him all beaten, it seems like the fight has long left his mind, his only concern being you.
a.n: sorry i haven’t posted in three months, i had mid years and school is really eating my ass right now!!! 😀😀🤩🤩 (math and science can go fuck themselves!!!) anyway eat this up yall cause lord knows when im posting a new fic 😭
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"fine! don’t want me to talk?" you shouted at dallas with an angry tone before getting up from the couch and making your way to your front door.
"where ya goin'?!" dallas said as he immediately shot up from the couch, seeing you move to the front door.
"we’ll talk when i feel like talkin'!" you said as you looked back at dallas with your eyebrows furrowed together. your was blood boiling with anger, but you couldn't ignore the hint of sadness deep inside your chest.
fights between you and dallas weren’t uncommon. when you did fight, it would always be over something stupid that would end with the both of you making up. dallas never said sorry, not with his pride and ego he did, but he found other ways to apologize to you. more subtle, but obvious enough for you to pick up on. however, tonight was a different story. you and dallas had been going on and on about something he had done.
you and dallas had been at the dingo all night, which was fun for the first few hours until some broad thought it was a good idea to try and sweet talk dallas, which you obviously did not enjoy. dallas, in his end, didn’t seem to mind the lousy and annoying flirtatious comments the girl made. not that he condoned to the girl's advances or try to flirt back with her, but the occasional smirk would appear on his face which only encouraged the girl to continue.
you watched as the scene unfolded, your eyebrows furrowed together when you noticed that dallas wasn't rejecting her advances. you knew dallas liked to have his fun, tease and bother girls, but not initiating anything as you were his first real girlfriend, which was strange for him. so when you both came back to your place, after ignoring him the whole rest of the night and finally blowing up on him after he profusely kept asking you why you were acting like this, he didn’t really understand why you were so upset. to dallas, it was just harmless fun, he wouldn’t do anything with her.
so there you two were, arguing back and forth for a while before dallas’s anger got a hold of him and he yelled at you to shut up.
and this is exactly the way you found yourself in this situation, walking out of your house as you just weren't able to deal with dallas right now. as much as dallas protested, you ignored his words, your mind filled with anger and disappointment.
dallas laid down on the flimsy couch of the curtis home, a cigarette between his fingers. he tried his best to be mad at you, wondering what your damn problem was, but in the end, he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit guilty.
the image of your angry but sad and upset face plaged dallas's mind, making him wonder if maybe he was too harsh with you. however, dallas's deep thinking was suddenly stopped when he heard the door of the curtis house slam open. dallas sat up from the couch and turned his head to the front door, expecting to see johnny coming to find refuge from his own house or a guy from the gang.
there you were, your lip busted open, your nose bleeding. open cuts and gashes trailed down from your forehead to your jaw. you were shaking violently as tears rolled down your cheeks, the saltiness burning your open wounds and broken sobs leaving your bleeding lips. with your blurry vision, you were able to see dallas, who you hadn’t expected to see at the curtis house.
dallas wasn’t sure who came up to whom first. whether you rushed to dallas first or he rushed to you first, it didn’t really matter, as dallas was now right in front of you, looking down at you with concern.
“jesus christ, the hell happened to you, y/n?!” dallas asked with an impatient and angry tone. despite his angry demeanor, dallas’s fingers reached to gently cup your chin.
you were in too much shock to even utter a single word. you looked up at dallas, eyes full of fear, as tears ran down you cheeks. you opened your mouth to try and speak, but all that came out were a few broken sobs and his name.
“d-dally…” you croaked out in a shaky voice. dallas felt his heart break at your pained voice. he soon understood that he wasn’t going to get anything out of you unless you calmed down first. dallas gently picked you up in his arms before placing you down on the flimsy leather couch. your hand tightly gripped his forearm, tears still running down your bruised and cut cheeks.
dallas thought that if he made one wrong move, you would shatter like glass. his rough and calloused hand gently cupped your cheek, looking right down at you.
"'s alright, dally's here... relax, sweet girl, i got you..." dallas whispered in a soft and gentle tone, such a gentle tone. the kind of tone he had never ever used on a single soul, not even on you before this. the kind of tone he wouldn't be caught dead using on anyone, anyone but you right now. he simply kept rubbing your cheek with his thumb, hoping that it would calm you down, as he didn't really know how to comfort someone in this situation. to be fair, dallas never really comforted many people in his life, so he tried to keep his approach gentle, not wanting to overwhelm you.
with the help of dallas's soft rubs on your cheek and gentle words, your adrenaline slowly started to dissipate. now, you could really feel all the pain from each and every bruise, gash and cut that was inflicted on you. your breaths slowed down and you slowly became more conscious of your surroundings.
"tell me what happened, sweet girl." dallas got straight to the point as soon as he noticed that you were more aware of everything now. he was itching to know who or what decided it was a good idea to hurt his girl like this.
it took you a few moments to collect your thoughts before you spoke up in a shaky tone. "i-i was walkin outside after our fight and-and this white mustang started tailing me..." dallas felt his stomach drop at your words. he didn’t need to hear the rest to get a clear thought in his head of what had happened, but he let you talk.
“i tried running or-or sum’ but they caught up to me… and i…” you tried to keep talking, but you felt as if a thorn bush was stuck in your throat, anything else other than sobs being unable to leave your mouth.
“shh, easy, y/n… ‘s alright… did they hurt you, sweet girl?” dallas asked. he already knew the answer, but he thought that maybe it would be easier if he helped you say it. you nodded your head yes before looking down at your lap, tears dripping down onto your jeans.
"fuckin' socs..." dallas felt his blood boil as you confirmed his suspicions. his fists clenched, knuckles turning white and nails digging into his palms as a strong feeling of rage took over his mind. he would kill whoever touched you, his girl, which he had made pretty clear to everyone.
but he held back, his only priority right now being you. he would deal with the unfortunate socs who thought it was a good idea to hurt you, later.
“i-im sorry, if i hadn’t been such a stubborn idiot, if i had just shut my trap like you said, none of this woulda happened…” you spoke up in your quiet and broken voice as you kept staring down at your lap. dallas immediately stopped you, tilting your head up so his eyes met yours. the guilt hit dallas like a truck. harder than ever now that were blaming yourself and excusing his behavior.
“that don’t matter anymore. it ain’t your fault, doll” the last thing on dallas’s mind was the fight you two had earlier and he didn’t want you thinking about it, nor did he want you blaming yourself for something someone else did to you. his rough fingers kept stroking your damp cheeks, feeling your whole body shake underneath his gentle touch.
"dal-dal, i'm so scared..." you croaked out as your grip on his forearm tightened. you were still in a lot of shock and pain, your body violently shaking.
dallas couldn't handle it anymore. he pulled you into his arms, bracing you with a gentle hug, afraid that if he held you any tighter, you would collapse. you tensed up in his arms, surprised at his actions, but you soon melted into his touch and buried your head into the side of his neck.
"shhh... you're safe, those fuckin' idiots are gone... s’alright sweet girl.." dallas tried to say in the most gentle tone possible, but you heard his anger slip through his comforting words.
nonetheless, you were shocked.
dallas winston, the dallas winston had you wrapped up in his arms, in a hold so so gentle as he shushed you softly. the words he said were comforting, sweet. something no single soul, not even yourself, had ever heard from this tuff, mean, violent greaser. the man who couldn't love anything, no one, was afraid to break you as he held you so delicately. slowly but surely, you felt your fear disappear. a sense of safety washed over you as he held you.
you knew you would be okay.
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caitlinsnicket · 7 months
Text
izzy hands sfw headcanons part 1
a/n: i was gonna make one post with all the headcanons, then i was gonna split nsfw from sfw, and now i had to split the sfw because it's too big. part 2 here. part 3 here. im losing it
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repressed little angry man with his repressed little feelings
his loyalty is yours. privately, yes, but yours. he'd put himself between anything and anyone for you
he carves wooden things for you, sea animals, boats and anything else you mention you like. he might give it to you directly or just leave it in your things
when you thank him, he either calls you twat and tells you to fuck off or just nods his head with a little smile on his face
if you ask him to, he'll sing for you, and blush while doing it
it also becomes a habit between the two of you to sing together in the privacy of his cabin, slowdancing with the melody
he also sings sometimes to wake you up because he knows you like his raspy voice
fuuuuuuck his raspy voice. gets raspier in the mornings, and it never fails to make your knees buckle. because he knows that, it's not unusual for him to sneak behind you to whisper nonsense in your ear
praises you for anything you do, even things unrelated to piracy. you make a good knot? "that's very good". you manage to cook a half decent egg? "it's perfect, love". you style his hair in a different way for fun? "i've never looked so good. that's all you, dear"
he starts wearing fingerless gloves to feel your skin against his at all times
physical touch is mandatory and something he craves constantly, specially when you're in his line of sight
sometimes you think he's purring when you give him any kind of physical affection, but that's only a theory that you keep private
his pda evolves around kissing your hand while being flirty
big attatchment issues. as in he'll freak out a little if he doesn't know where you are
he's always worrying about you, in what he believes is a subtle manner. in front of the crew, he pretends he's going to chastise you in private, when in reality he's just asking you if you need anything or if you're tired
likes to boss you around for funsies, but if you'd rather sit still and look pretty for him, he's happy to ignore the rest of the crew's protests at your special treatment
likes to teach you things around the ship just to be close to you and feel pride at how fast you're learning (praise him for being a good teacher, you might make him blush).
might slap you in the ass if you do a good job and no one is around to tease him
he's always baffled by how much you want him, and not just in the physical sense. when he sees how much you're working for the relationship to function, how much effort you put into making him happy, he's at a loss of words
he's worried that you were going to be put-off by his violence, but when you welcome it as just another lovable part of him, he knows you're the one
if you use violence for him (to protect or defend), he'll have to use every fiber of his being to hold back tears. having people care for him is a new experience, and it becomes overwhelming
he's incredibly funny when he wants to, and not just when he's bitching about the crew. just funny
will do anything to make you smile or laugh at him. it's not uncommon to see him joining in on the crew's shenanigans just to see you happy
when he's sad he'll go quiet, sad puppy eyes looking defeated, and it's very likely he'll lash out on the crew
he cries a lot, violently, his sobs go through his whole body and he shakes so much you thought he had a cold the first time it happened
when you wipe away his tears and just hold him close, he almost believes he deserves to be loved
he fusses a lot when you try to comfort him, wiggling away from your grasp and telling you to fuck off, before melting into you and breaking down in your arms
it's very difficult for him to accept these kinds of things, so praise him while you're at it, give him positive reinforcement and he'll get used to the comfort you provide him
his smiles light up the world, but you can't tell him that otherwise he'll hold himself back. unless you're both alone, in his cabin, huddled together and he smiles at you, you trace the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth and just whisper "you're fucking beautiful", he'll blush and bury his face on your hands, a low rumble on his chest
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Hear. Me. Out.
Lord of calamity pls. "You belong to me now" prompt with reader who's also part of the COA squad (the survivors) pls?
Hear what? Im in his dms. Im licking his tentacles. Im fucking the outer hp lovecraftian god, anon. Im built different lolol hastur is my wife and i love him to pieces
Rated T | Warning: Lovecraftian themed
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Perhaps it is too much to ask of humanity to not embrace the false bliss from the creature who is killing the world, but can you blame them? The pain, the loss, it chips at the soul until there are only shards at the feet of this… Thing. The whispers call it Lord Of Calamity, you find it strange it has a name. If Luchino was… If the professor was here, he would hypothesize this creature has been here before. That is the only reason it has such a grim name.
You fear the others are lost to you. Frederick may not be a pod like the others but he talks nonsense as he seems to offer the thing worship— Praise!
You only escaped the pod because… You are not sure actually. One moment you were in paradise, everything you could ever want but you… You saw through the lies. The deceit and it made you angry.
Humans, like animals, can react violently when there is no way to escape. A fight or flight response but you could only fight. In that paradise you killed someone, then another person, more and more until you woke up screaming and crawling at the pod.
Maskless, your clothing is slimy, and parts of it appear to have been started to be eaten at. You stand by Frederick up at the creature.
It is like looking into the abyss.
And soon the abyss looks back at you.
“Fascinating,” You turn around to see the creature now standing not far from you, it made a version of itself to speak directly with you. “Not many of your kind can escape serenity. This one is curious, was it not to your liking?” Polite.
“My liking?” You stand defensive with one foot in front of you and hands making fists, “That was not real!”
“It is as real as you wish it to be. A paradise of your own making. Were you not satisfied?”
“Paradise is not created from a lie.”
“This one has seen humanity prove otherwise.”
What are you supposed to say? Are you supposed to defend humanity with a battle of words? Which you try to do with everything you have but this creature counters every one of your statements. At one point you fear you might believe that humanity has become a blight upon this earth— No! You shake your head and then look around you, you refuse to let that numb feeling of hopelessness get to you.
“You wish this one harm.”
“I wish to leave.” Looking back at the creature. You move slightly to the side and a tendril from the ground wraps itself around your ankle locking you in place. A tug or two and you glare at the creature.
“This one tries to grant you a painless death. Suffering gives this one no pleasure. A mercy humanity is ill-deserving of.”
You look away then look up at it as it slips close to you suddenly, “Lord of Calamity, have you done this before?”
It is quiet, its hand reaching out to touch your face even though you try moving your head away, “At the pinnacle of your species, this one will consume all. A few will live, chosen by natural selection. The one called Frederick shall be my voice. The one called Luchino will be my enforcer.” The creature is laying out its plans. “The others have no use to me. They may enjoy bliss until they perish.”
“You bastard.” Grimacing at the way the fungal tendril maps out your face. A smooth slime trail and you struggle as more tendrils appear from under you grabbing you.
“This one has not seen your type in many of its lives. Few are granted omniscience, your kind is showing growth between each annihilation and rebirth.”
“What are you talking about?! Let me go!” Fighting your damndest to get out of its hold.
“A birth of a God. A fledgling one but a God nonetheless. You shall create a new world.” So matter of fact, “You belong to this one, fledgling. Once you have matured, you will provide companionship to this one.”
You feel yourself being pulled down like before back into a pod, you scream at it.
“Rest. Dream. Envision the world you will create.”
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bullet-prooflove · 4 months
Text
Stockton!Series Part Six: Times Are Changing - Nestor Oceteva x Reader (feat: Bishop Losa & Marcus Alvarez)
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Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @fanfic-n-tabulous @beardedbarba @adaydreamaway08 @librarian1002 @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @msjava1972 @trublu2u @fleureeee @jp1019 @thiashazzywriting @jeybae @collegegirl83
Stockton!Series:
Part One: El Cuchillo - An incident in the clubhouse causes ramifcations for the entire club.
Part Two: Always - Nestor learns about what happened.
Part Three: In the Dark - You and Nestor wake up to find armed men in your house.
Part Four: Sierra - Marcus takes care of the men who tried to kill you.
Part Five: Maternal - Nestor and you take refuge at a familiar location.
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It’s past midnight and Marcus sits alone in Templo. He’s taken the seat at the head of the table, his fingertips flicking through ‘The Good Book’, the one that Marcus had created when he founded the club all those years ago. Their history, their rules, their legacy, it’s all contained within these pages.
It’s been horrible couple of days, for him, for the MC, for his family, because that’s what you are to him, family. His daughter, born of fire and blood, the one that Ramos had tried to murder in her sleep, all over a grudge from something that happened when you were a child. Something you have no knowledge of, that’s he’s determined you’ll never have any knowledge of.
This book it plays a part in that.
As he reads it, he recognises the ramblings of the angry, violent man he used to be. The monster he calls it now, when he talks to Izzy.
He raises his head as Bishop enters through the stained-glass door. In each of his hands he holds a mug of coffee, the real stuff. Marcus would know that aromatic scent anywhere, it’s the same brand he keeps in his house. He sets one of the mugs in front of Marcus before he takes up residence in the V.P’s seat.
“Hell of a day.” Bishop says rubbing his hands over his weary features.
“Yea.” Marcus says as he picks up his coffee cup and takes a sip. “I’m just hoping they got the message otherwise things are about to get real fucked up.”
“Stockton was already fucked up. Things will change now Ramos is gone.” Bishop assures the other man. “Smokey’s tough, he’ll rein them in and the ones that don’t fall into line…I won’t shed any tears for them.”
Marcus shakes his head.
“I won’t either.”
There’s silence between the two of them for a moment, each man lost in his own thoughts. It shouldn’t have come down to this, they should have dealt with this problem long before Ramos had ever laid eyes on you.
“I haven’t seen that for a while.” Bishop utters, gesturing towards the book.
Marcus sighs heavily.
“Probably for good reason.” Marcus says before he turns the book towards Bishop.
The other man studies the words before shaking his head.
“It was a different time back then.” Bishop says, removing the cigarettes from inside of his kutte. He taps the box upon the table before removing one and placing it between his lips.
“We talk about women as if their property, something to be owned, to be traded when we get tired of them.” Marcus jabs his finger at the paper. “This book tells us their only good for sex or serving, it doesn’t talk about love or respect. Is it any wonder that charters like Stockton act the way they do when these are the values, we’ve instilled in them?”
Bishop lights up his cigarette, he takes a drag.
“The world is changing El Padrino. We have to adapt.” Bishop says as he taps the ash off the end of cigarette. “We care about our women here; we cherish them but other charters… It needs to be a message that goes out across the club. What happened the other day can’t be allowed to happen again, not to anyone. There needs to be repercussions for that type of shit.”
Marcus nods his agreement, his hands wrapping the mug.
“I’m proud of that you’ve done here primo, legitimising the MC, supporting the community.” He tells Bishop earnestly. “This charter’s become more than I could have dreamed of.”
“And all it took was for me to pull my head out of my ass.” Bishop remarks before he takes another drag on the cigarette as he watches Marcus withdraw an A6 notebook from the interior pocket of his kutte. He pushes it towards the other man with his fingertips.
“This is what I’ve put together, a revised edition of the by-laws.” Marcus tells Bishop before he drains the rest of his coffee.
Bishop reviews the changes before tapping his fingertip upon the paper and raising his eyes to meet Marcus’s.
“We need to talk about Taza.”
Marcus clasps his hands together, his lips pursing into a grim line.
“We have to lead by example El Padrino,” Bishop tells him, his voice gruff as he stubs out his cigarette. “He has suffered for so long under the weight of this secret, putting the club before himself over and over again. I can’t help but wonder how many other Tazas are out there, how many other brothers are struggling with something just like this and what happens to the ones that aren’t as strong as him.”
Marcus knows what he’s talking about, the suicides that leave no notes, the members that are quietly taken care of for an infraction that can’t be discussed.
“We have to do better.” Bishop tells him, picking up the cigarette box and tapping it upon the surface of the table.  “Every single one of us deserves to love who we love and not be punished for it.”
“You’re right.” Marcus says finally, picking up his pen and adding the amendment. “I’ll get this drawn up and sent out to the other charters.”
Marcus raises to his feet, tucking the notebook back into his kutte. His hand comes to rest upon Bishop’s shoulder, clasping it tightly.
“You’ve been leading the way for a while now, primo. It’s time for the other charters to get in line and follow.”
Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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mayonnaise2004 · 9 months
Text
The Lost Boys + Chaotic child
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We love father figure vampires
Note: Once I finished writing this, My niece Sammie was born!! :D
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Probably found you on the boardwalk, ALONE???
“Hey uhm… where are your parents?” “To be honest, I have no clue.”
He knew you would fit right in when you were grinning ear to ear as a train passed through the shaky bridge.
Not worried about you in slightest.
You wanna go out alone? All right. Wanna go to the frog brothers shop? Make sure to piss them off.
Usually sits back and watches as you cause chaos on the boardwalk.
He knows people like you in Santa Carla usually are left alone.
Chuckles at the fact Santa Carla would be fucked If you ever turned.
If he gets tired of you (which usually happens) he’ll leave you with Marko or Paul for the night.
The infamous quote “if you have so much energy, why don’t you go run to the cave and back?”
Getting a lot of smacks to the head
May or May not have left you on the boardwalk a few times because you pissed him off (star was ANGRY)
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He found you hanging around with Laddie one night, He tried to get you back to your parents but.. the boys had already fed on them.
Definitely the type of guy to scream at you in German if you get laddie into a Sugar high
He loves you to death though.
Slips melatonin into your candy if your being a bit too wacky on the boardwalk
When he heard David say you were chaotic, He thought he’d be used to it (Hence Marko and Paul) , but oh no.
He’s definitely used to energetic behaviour, But he has snapped at you once or twice.
Has absolutely forbidden you from going anywhere near Marko and Paul whenever your out of hand.
Has definitely persuaded you from lighting the boardwalk up. Multiple times.
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He found you hanging around a juke box playing ‘Twisted sister.’
He automatically took you under his patched leather wing.
“YO PAUL, THEY LIKE TWISTED SISTER!”
Loves the fact your his mini me
Causing chaos on the boardwalk every night (Which leads to you two getting kicked off.)
Scaring innocent pedestrians
Giggles like a idiot if you make David snap.
Saying “Sei il mio bambino caotico e ti amo.” While ruffling your hair.
Dancing like idiots during the saxophone man concerts
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Found you wandering around the boardwalk. He just liked your shoes 😭
“Stop offering weed to me. Im like, twelve”
Bonding while mocking angry beach n@zis
Randomly ruffling your hair
Smirking as a security guard lectures him about his ‘Sibling.’
- “Umm, this isn’t my sibling, This is my fucking child.”
Acting like maniacs on the boardwalk.
Snatching laddie and running off (While Dwayne screams.)
Giving you energy drinks and watching in fascination as your pupils shake violently. (Paul.. no..)
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n0n-sen-se · 9 months
Note
bats my pretty eyelashes at you
Sen I have a request!!
Im still sick could I mayhaps have some agnsty comfort headcannons with my fave boys Sanemi and Rengoku?
Thank you Sen!! 🫶🏾
-🍷
mayhaps you absolutely can anon! i present to you:
𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒/𝐎 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!
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includes ;; sanemi, rengoku, gn!reader content ;; angst, hurt/comfort a/n ;; i flatlined writing this so- anyway, considering i had no idea how to start these for a good minute; i think they're pretty good (!?) also sorry for writing so much (wanted to get it just right)so i can hope?
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☆☆☆ # sanemi shinazugawa !
gets nervous. extremely nervous- and angry, to the point that he's shaking with anxiety.
at first, the sight of you bedridden makes him frown. and he'll do it often too.
he's lost a ton of people he cares about, your not going to be next.
although he tries to act angry, or short with you sometimes. . . its just to cover up the fact that he's terrified of losing you. (or the prospect of it)
he'd like to be next to you at any given moment, grabbing you warm food and tucking you in to the point you can't squirm out. anything. but he just- he can't
hell, he'd take the pain from you if he could, without an ounce of hesitation. . . but he can only watch and wait. . . until you get better.
but most times he physically can't be there.
the nights he has to be away from you, he's carrying out missions for the corps and cutting/beating down anyone that gets in his way.
everyone feels his uncertainty and rage:
in the way he overkills those poor lesser demons, the way he shoves the kakushi out of his way, and going as far as fighting another hashira over it
like his violent outbursts- it's literally out of his control, on top of the fact that he can barely care for you himself when you need him most.
what was the point of getting so strong? those years of training. what was the point if he was so helpless?
when he gets the chance too (after a long night of work that has his muscles seizing) he'll climb into bed with you and just hold you.
listening to your unsteady breathing, and when he's sure your in a deep sleep, he'll cry.
soundlessly, but his body is shuddering with silent pain. . . and he's trying not to let his tears fall on you but. . . he's really:
❛sorry. i'm so sorry❜
eventually, he feels he owes it to you to explain all of his frustrations, and worries.
he waits until you wake up, waiting the whole night without budging or even thinking about falling asleep.
and when you wake up, he whispers it to you, hugging you tightly so you can't see his eyes watering up or his teeth grinding against each other. he feels like an entire idiot explaining it to you.
afterwards, takes a deep (shaky) breath and kisses you tiredly. who cares if he gets sick too, he's too tired to care.
☆☆☆ # kyojuro rengoku !
he's been around sickness.
he knows the signs. and he knows how to treat most things; come fevers, chills, aches, he can handle it.
what he can't handle, is how it makes him so uneasy.
when you get sick, its one of the few times you ever see him so serious and solemn.
feeding you, helping you bathe, cuddling up to you for body heat and comfort. anything you need, he'll try to be a whim away.
kyojuro knows a bad morale won't do any good for you, so, like always, he'll try to be the ray of sunshine you need. . .
but it breaks his heart every time.
when your sore throat breaks, when you groan from the aches, wince at the pain in your head. . . the fact you can never be comfortable despite everything he tries.
you'll see it too. in his face. the slight knot in his brows, the way his lips are pressed tightly together.
he's just so helpless, forced to watch and wait while your health is on the line.
kyojuro goes in and out of your room, fetching water for you, or soup- whatever helpful excuse he can make up- to go somewhere quiet and cry his heart out.
like the snap of his fingers, he's a little kid all over again. it reminds him so much of his mother.
its hard to pull himself together. he's rarely cried so hard before, so he sucks at covering it up. (his eyes would be puffy and his nose a little runny) at that point you'd think he was sick too
he always tries to hold you hand, squeezing you palm tightly in his. and he hopes its as reassuring to you as it is to him.
because he needs it to.
falls asleep next to you from exhaustion. (he's sitting next to you, head resting on the mattress) and somehow wakes up at the slightest noise you make-- despite his ear being partially deaf.
he always goes the extra mile to get your medicine, dedicated to you and your health.
tries to remind himself that it will be okay (and he tells you that often to) but it can hardly shake the worry and dread off his heart.
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bizlybebo · 3 months
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Because its on my mind Im sending this as a "Ramble about it here when you get to X episode" ask. When you finish the episodes titled black, white and grey please rant about them here. They are great and I want to see your opinions
hahaha. hi endy.
the staring at the wall evolved into falling asleep and randomly waking up at 4am, still processing these episodes.
i wrote down. some of my thoughts now having experienced the full thing and got kind of carried away with um. 1.4k words of rambling :3
it’s not even all i want to say but i. ough. fuck these episodes were so good but so. auugggh.
it’s like 5am now im posting this and gonna try to go back to sleep but. holy fucking SHIT when i get you bizly.
(i don’t at all expect you to read this behemoth of a ramble!! just. need to put this somewhere as well because my brain’s still exploding after these episodes)
When season two started I thought it marked a lot of stuff for, y’know, how the show was gonna get darker. I mean, episode one, people were getting killed by a chaos demon in that prison.
I was entirely expecting all the ugly, gory bits of season two to be… external shit. Stuff that other guys, the actual antagonists, did.
But William felt pressured in Black. And suddenly it sets off this chain reaction, and suddenly one of our protagonists is no longer doing heroic things. Suddenly William is effectively torturing a guy psychologically in an attempt to save thousands more with David’s medical research.
He fell into the crux of a lot of villains: “It’s for the greater good”.
There was no going back after he stabbed Tide with the syringe. Tide, who never even had his guard up around William because despite everything, he trusted him and had immeasurable faith in his boys.
White is probably my favorite and least favorite episode, simultaneously, to ever come out of jrwi. The emotional, symbolic, and hell, even cinematic effect it has is insane.
I could fucking scream forever about Willian’s actions in White. About Vyncent’s inactions and the way he was torn about everything— about the fact that in season one, Vyncent was the “violent” one.
But Mark and Dakota fucking hit me in the heart to an insane amount.
Dakota. MOTHERFUCKING. Cole.
I said this before, but:
It’s the fact that Dakota still has optimism. He still has hope, at the very least, that Mark can change; turn over a new leaf for his kid.
“I think he should turn over a new leaf, like, with a new hero name, like— Soundwave, or something.”
He still thinks, or at least thought, that Mark can change. This was after he saw what he did to Lightspeed. He saw the worst of Mark’s actions but he still had faith and hope that there was a good person in there.
This shows so much fucking growth for Dakota’s character. The entire development of his morals, especially over season 2, is insane.
But Mark tries to kill Dakota. Several times.
He shoots at him, unleashes hundreds of bullets, and even tries to stab him. He couldn’t predict that Dakota would be incorporeal, and yeah, sure, you could say that he didn’t know Dakota forfeited his powers (and even without him he’s still significantly stronger than other kids his age). But even with his powers, Dakota would still have taken significant damage from the attacks.
Dakota and Mark’s rivalry is something I could pick apart and think about every little piece of forever.
They both have overwhelming love for Ashe, but it manifests in different ways.
Mark says it himself, “I am what I have to be.” He’s bringing home his kid by any means necessary. Ashe doesn’t have to like him, she just has to be safe and alive.
Dakota’s entire screaming match with Mark is engraved into my brain forever. It felt so real to witness, and the emotion in it was insane.
Dakota’s entire proclamation gets me. He’s so well spoken throughout despite shaking with how angry he is.
“I have been killing myself trying to train hard enough to save her.”
“If you were doing this for Ashe you wouldn’t do things that she’d hate you for.” But Mark is what he has to be.
Dakota never stands down. He keeps getting back up, and back up, and back. Up. Okehrjwjr I’m actually going to start crying thinking about this again.
When he was searching for Lightspeed and following Wavelength’s tracks, he kept asking himself: What would William do? Because he had faith in William’s decision making and investigation.
But at the very same time, William was wondering what Dakota would think about what he’s done.
And GOD don’t get me started on William and his brother.
In a sick, twisted way, I loved their dynamic. I loved what it meant for William narratively when David congratulated his work of defeating Xavier, even calling him “little brother” as a term of endearment. I was on the edge of my seat for their entire conversation in the meeting room.
David gave William his first drink, like older brothers do. William tortured a man because of his brother. David had apple juice sitting on hand because their mother told him to, just in case William ever showed up. William wanted apple juice. He killed somebody.
Cantrip’s been FUCKING me up. I couldn’t even write the word “death” after her name. It doesn’t feel real.
This can’t be the same show in which Jade was sitting on Xavier’s shoulders during mario kart, nonchalantly offering no help as he fought for his life to win like. Second place.
I mean, Jade was such a candid and real character. She was a teenager, just like the rest of the Prime Defenders, and she tried to take a turn for better things after leaving the fighting ring. She went from villainy to vigilantism, and sure, her morals were kind of skewed with how she seemed pretty okay with Alan killing the Bell Tech employees, but her motives were good, in a sense.
(“It’s all for the greater good”. It’s the same thing William was thinking, except William was directly dirtying his hands by torturing Xavier, while Cantrip was just accepting that Alan killed some people.)
I think there’s something to say for how William creates a vision of Cantrip out of smoke, distorting her into some monster, and how that’s the last time we see her image at all before learning of the fact that she’s. Gone.
The last time we see the real Jade, she’s just trying to escape. She doesn’t even talk, if I remember correctly. She just tries to get out. She gets shot in the arm but still persists.
And William ends up being the one who pulls the trigger; who injects the memory loss shit into her blood.
He’s the one who kills her, despite not knowing it at the time.
And David still masquerades as an innocent man, going as far as to relax at his apartment with him and William’s parents as though the events of the previous night never happened.
It fucks me up how the last words that Will and David exchanged before the confrontation in the apartment was:
“Don’t turn into a supervillain while I’m gone.”
“You either.”
William was starting to believe that David was a guy with awful methods, but good intentions— and William felt as though he was the same way. He saw himself becoming David, but David manipulated him into thinking that, hey, it’s awful, but at least he wouldn’t be… alone, I guess, in being a horrible person.
William and David finally saw eye to eye on the worst thing.
And David. Still. Lied.
Lied by omission.
And Jade was the one who took the fall for William’s actions. Jade, the girl who made fun of William for his crush on Vyncent. Jade, who had a sister she cared about, even if she scoffed about her love of heroes— despite the implication that their parents died because of them (likely caught in crossfire or casualties of battle). Jade, who painted her nails and placed bets on William kissing Vyncent, saying he’d be too pussy to do so. Jade, who found herself in a fucking fighting arena of all places but still found friends through it.
Jade, who was the first one to trust William with her actual name instead of Cantrip.
William, who killed her.
And. Fucking Christ.
Vyncent’s monologue at the end of episode 33 just. Fucks me up.
For the entire greyscale series, he finds himself suspended in inaction, too scared to do the right thing and too scared to stop the wrong thing.
But he finally faces it. He looks at William, certainly with fear after knowing all that he’s done, and even still, Vyncent dances around the morality of the subject. He accepts if William wants to flat-out lie to Dakota’s face about what happened at Bell Tech, though he does warn him of the significant damage it’ll do to their friendship.
And when William asks Vyncent to leave the room at the end of the episode, Vyncent finally takes a leap and becomes no longer caught by his indecision between apathy and guilt.
He looks at William, thinking he’s on the edge of something he won’t come back from, and he takes his hand, and pulls Wlliam back from the metaphorical cliff’s edge. If William does fall, then they’re falling together.
His entire proclamation, starting with “I’ve had so many opportunities to do the right thing”, fucking guts me.
God I’ve been typing for like. An hour now but the greyscale series really fucked me up holy shit.
tldr: AAAAUUUUIGGHHHHKEKGKKSKVMEMGOOCU:$)&2’ynkejvjk4&3&582$2!:$?82&;&/&(929@,@2&(&2&&?EVIL EVIL EVIL GOD IS DEADDDDJGKRMHKSKKKKLLEKCKSJGJKSICIWKFMSKGIWIIIAI&383&5&?&?@39(92@?&&/8:7;&,£,]*+\+<*]¥<**]+<+¥sfkwkfkkwjfkI HATE EVERYTHING AOUUGGGHHHHHH OUUUUUUEHEHRHRHRJKGHRHRHRRRRRRR
i am emotionally attached to this media a normal amount
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mostlymaudlin · 1 year
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i told you i'd come back
andreil, rated t, 800 words
this is a sequel of sorts to my fic I'll Come Back To You and it absolutely won't make any sense if you haven't read that. it answers a question a lot of people have asked but im a meanie and i don't want to answer it on ao3 because i love how mysterious it is LOL. but also i got a few really lovely comments on this fic tonight so i got inspired to write this :)
Andrew wakes up warm. 
He shifts a bit, and the back of his head collides with something hard. 
It’s Neil: the source of the warmth, of the arms around Andrew’s waist, of the groan, of the chin he just knocked into.
“First you drool all over me, then you headbutt me,” Neil murmurs. “Good fucking morning to you, too.” 
Andrew sits back, but not very far, because he’s sitting in Neil’s lap in the damn armchair, and because Neil doesn’t loosen his grip on Andrew’s waist. His spine protests the pretzel position he apparently slept in. He blearily wipes his mouth as he squints at the wet patch on the collar of Neil’s shirt, and then up at his face.
Neil lifts one arm, smoothing a hand through Andrew’s hair where it’s surely sticking up. Andrew rests his face in Neil’s palm when it cups his cheek, closing his eyes as he yawns, then leaving them closed a moment longer. Because it’s bright, with the early morning sun shining directly in through the living room window. Because he’s not ready to fully face consciousness quite yet. Because he’s exhausted. It feels like Andrew hasn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in weeks, not since—
Andrew’s eyes shoot open. He jerks away from Neil’s touch so violently that he almost falls out of the chair. Neil keeps an arm on him only long enough to steady him, then lets it drop as Andrew lunges to his feet, tripping over to the couch on the other side of the coffee table. 
“Andrew, it’s okay,” Neil says, and he’s using that voice that absolutely shatters Andrew’s chest, warm and rich and low, full of promises of safety and security and home. But it’s not real — Neil doesn’t remember making these promises. He doesn’t remember any of the things that would make Andrew holding him hostage in a chair all night okay.
Andrew shakes his head. “It’s not.”
“Andrew,” Neil says, climbing out of the chair too. He doesn’t join Andrew on the couch, instead sitting on the coffee table in front of him, their knees jigsawed together but not touching. “Look at me. It’s okay.”
Andrew is already looking at Neil. It’s all he ever fucking does — looking at Neil across the room, or on the lock screen of his phone, or in the film reel of memories that plays through every quiet moment in his head. 
Andrew is already looking at Neil. His hair is flattened on one side. There’s a puddle of Andrew’s drool on his shirt. His lips are chapped. His blue eyes are focused on Andrew, always too intense, piercing straight through Andrew’s chest to the things he still doesn’t really know how to put into words. 
Andrew’s breath stutters.
It’s been weeks since Neil has looked back at Andrew and really seen him. It’s been weeks since Andrew last felt like anyone really knew him at all. Andrew used to think that’s what he wanted, but he was wrong. He used to think he could squash the hope that’s now blooming in his chest as Neil looks back; he was wrong about that too.
“Neil,” Andrew says, and the single syllable is angry, rammed through clenched teeth. Neil’s expression doesn’t change. He’s never been as afraid of Andrew as he should’ve been. “Don’t fuck with me.” 
Neil holds a hand over Andrew’s knee, palm up, a gesture so familiar that Andrew has to swallow a hard lump in his throat. He tries again when it doesn’t work — no such luck. 
“I told you I’d come back,” Neil whispers. “I’m sorry I left you alone in the first place.” 
Andrew inhales sharply and takes Neil’s hand, then slumps forward. His head swims as his muscles just… shut down. It’s over, Andrew thinks, the words pounding against the walls of his brain. It’s over it’s over it’s over. 
“It’s okay,” Neil says — warm and rich and low — his mouth pressed to Andrew’s crown. “I’m right here.”
He rests a firm palm against the side of Andrew’s neck, thumb rubbing in well-practiced patterns behind Andrew’s ear, and it’s over it’s over it’s over. Everyone said it would be okay, but when has Andrew ever gotten to keep a damn thing in his life? It’s over. Even Andrew’s own nightmares hadn’t produced this specific horror before it happened in the light of day. It’s over. What would he have even done? He’s never figured out how he got ahold of this in the first place. He’d never be able to do it again. 
“I told you,” Neil says, weaving their fingers together. Andrew can feel the cool press of the wedding band that Neil never took off. “I promised.”
Andrew is exhausted. He drops his head to Neil’s shoulder, and for the first time in weeks, he can finally rest.
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doobnnoob-tf2 · 2 years
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Hello!! How do u think the mercs act when they have gotten zero sleep the last few nights? I feel like Spy would lose his temper at the slightest sound and Pyro would be super quiet and swaying back and forth (dont know if theres a word for it ;w;)
(Also, Im starting school in September, September 15th to be exact I think, and i am very VERY anxious, please give me luck Mundy 🙏 😭)
I wish you ALL of the luck my friend!  I have faith in you that you can make it, and that goes for everyone heading back to school!!
Scout: he gets super emotional, and his emotions in general are all over the place.  he’ll go from angry to almost in tears to hyper in a matter of minutes
Soldier: he’s just quiet, barely giving a grunt as an answer to anything anyone says.  he also tends to stay away from everyone else because noise in general starts becoming infuriating to him
Pyro: they’re constantly dozing off before snapping back to attention.  it’s hard for them to focus on anything so they often wind up forgetting what they were doing
Demoman: he gets a bit loopy and will either go on nonsense tangents or everything seems to be funny to him.  he also tends to start dozing off a lot as well
Heavy: he’s extremely quiet and cold towards everyone, only ever responding to anything anyone says by shaking his head no or nodding.  if he does say anything, it’s usually under his breath and in Russian and he sounds very irritated
Engineer: he gets quite the temper and will explode on people over the smallest things.  he’s extremely apologetic afterwards though
Medic: he gets extremely angry at everything and everyone, almost to a violent degree.  he’s barely taking care of himself and will just yell in German at anyone who dares try speaking with him
Sniper: his accent gets super thick when he’s tired.  he’s very grouchy and will snap at anyone for breathing too loud near him, even if they’re on the other side of the room
Spy: he’s very evasive and tends to isolate himself to avoid having to interact with people.  if someone still manages to, he’ll just stare them down until they quietly walk off
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moony-ghoul · 1 year
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some angst with ant and rain,, mean cold rain saying something that hits ant a little too hard and sends him spiraling :( maybe misdirected anger or maybe ant fucked up !
i was thinking about this exact situation yesterday but in a more nsfw context
(transmasc rain, mean rain goes too far)
ant was in a push and pull. they feel like they’re floating only to be violently dragged back down to earth with every agonising grind on their dick
their hands tied up behind their head keeping them trapped, connected to the headboard
they’ve already cum once, but that could have been hours ago, they’ve lost sense of time. the only tether to reality they have is where rain is touching them. his fingers digging into their waist, their dick buried in his wet cunt, the slow movement of their hips threatening to push them over the edge
“rain- rain- please i’m so- i’m gonn- fuck”
rain stops moving and glares down at them, “have some self control, darling.” he leans back, digging his claws into ants thighs for leverage and starts riding him in earnest
“you don’t get to cum until i do”
the change in angle is too much for ant. the clear view of themself sliding in and out of the water ghoul, his soft tits bouncing with each movement and the sounds fuck the light moans coming from rain mixed with slick soaked skin hitting each other
it’s all so much
it’s too much
ant tries to warn rain but it’s mumbled with the sobs racking through their chest as they cum
their relief is quickly ruined by the panic building within them
rain stopped moving, they don’t know when, their eyes are tightly squeezed shut
“imsorryimsirryimsorryimsorry”
tears flow strongly down their face despite how tightly their eyes are shut. another sob rips through them as they feel rain get off them and the bed. they can’t hear his movements over the sound of their own crying
“worthless”
the word feel like getting torn open with a knife
“i-im not i-i-i tried to-“
“worthless slut with a useless dick”
ant doesn’t even know where in the room rain is standing, his voice seems to echo inside their brain
their apologies fall out of their mouth on repeat but they don’t hear it. they try to curl in on themself, rope burning their wrists as they turn to their side
pain sparks in their shoulders as they struggle to free themself. did rain do this on purpose? tie them in such a way that they can’t free themself? or maybe they really are so useless that they just can’t figure it out
they can’t breathe
their skin is too tight
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
something snaps above them and they suddenly have free movement over their arms again
finally they open their eyes. blurry through the tears rain kneels next to them on the bed, one hand holding rope shears and the other rubbing small circles into ants hip. nothing but love and concern covers his face, all the bite from moments ago gone
“can you talk to me, bug?”
ant shakes their head softly, still shaken by the sudden turn of the scene
“that’s alright, love. i’m going to hold your hands, okay?”
rain takes the ghouls hands in theirs, removing the access rope from their wrists and rubbing smoothly over the angry red marks left behind
“i took things too far without checking in on you first and you got hurt and words can’t describe how sorry i am. you’re incredible, you did such a good job for me and you really tried hard, i know. you have nothing to apologise for.”
a fresh round of tears start to fall on ants cheeks, quickly wiped away by rain
“how about we go have a shower and i’ll order us some food? you can stay here tonight, we’ll watch a movie or something. how’s that sound?”
ant smiles softly, “good” their voice is still weak, but there nonetheless
rain kisses their hairline softly
“i love you. i love you so much, my lil love bug”
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