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stevie-petey · 2 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 :)

“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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risuola · 8 months

Text

DON'T HOLD BACK — F. READER x GETO SUGURU, who'’s as sweet as he's mean to you

If anyone got to know Suguru Geto, they would say that he's really nice guy, very kind and soft spoken, and they wouldn't be exactly wrong, but it seemed like you were the only person in the world that knows that Suguru, your tattoo artist boyfriend, is a meanie.

cw: smut, no-curse au, size difference, spanking, hair pulling, cunningulus, slight description of pain (tattoo related), so many pet names, Geto has tattoos and piercings (yup, that's a warning), there's an appearance od Satoru at the end, reader discretion is advised — 7,9k words

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If anyone would ask you few days ago what will you be doing on friday at 21:38pm, you’d probably respond with a large dose of confidence, that you’ll be resting in your bed. Maybe catching up on your favorite anime because you had no time to watch the newest episode during the week. You’d be lying comfortably, sipping on your favorite, fruity tea and if you’d feel fancy enough, maybe you’d even order yourself a pizza. That’s what you’d assume you’ll be doing late on friday, it sounded reasonable and reasonable is what you liked to call yourself.

Making spontaneous decisions is not a trait you’d give to your personality. You were always the one to think at least twice, usually more like seven times, before you commit to something, especially when it came to serious things such as body modifications or a choice of college. You were an overthinker, a helpless one to be exact, but that got you through life somewhat safely up until the point of reaching the sophomore year at uni. Your grades were fairly good, you had a little circle of people that were close to your heart, and you couldn’t think of many that you’d actually call your enemies. Being called a bore by your best friend was just a side effect of your usually cold and calculated thought process, but it never bothered you.

That was just who you were – a helpless overthinker – so it’s only natural, that you couldn’t find an answer reasonable enough to explain why on earth, on late friday evening, while the clock was slowly but surely heading towards 10pm, you were standing in front of the deep purple, slightly flickering neon sign that read Curseive.

A clever concoction of something so dark and mysterious as a curse and the intricate art of lines and shapes that the font cursive is all about – it hung up high above the entrance, written in a way that mirrored the conflicting feelings and somehow making it work. It was a tattoo salon, a relatively new one in your area, but it already had many good reviews online – or at least that’s what you assumed while doing the quickest research of your life. If scrolling through the messages left by customers for at most thirty seconds could be even called research. Why were you here? You had no clue, but you pushed the doors open and there was that little version of you sitting on your shoulder that wished you’ll just get asked out, because the salon was closing in about 20 minutes, but you decided to ignore the frail voice in your head and move forward.

When you stepped inside, it was empty in the lobby where the little sofa was situated for those who are waiting and a desk that was probably a reception. Dark walls around you were adorned by paintings that on the first glance looked to you like were handmade. Quickly you found yourself lost in the soft sound of buzzing that mixed with the quiet rock music playing somewhere in the background, as you began examining the artworks around you. One of the walls was made into a gallery of sorts, with the photographs of finished tattoos and printed patterns displayed in an array, supplemented with little descriptive notes and sometimes comments, that you assumed were left by clients. All of them were breathtaking and although you couldn’t see yourself rocking most of those heavy inks on your own skin, you were more than happy to appreciate and analyze. The precision of lines, the shading, the colors and composition – all of those tickled your artistic soul in ways not many things could and maybe it was the aesthete in you who stopped you from decorating your own body until this point, because fact is – you thought about getting a tattoo many times before. You really did and even had a pattern you really wanted, but it just scared the shit out of you to think someone could butcher it up and charge you for the mess. So, you never made an appointment. Until now. Now you were determined to do so.

You took one deeper breath, as if encouraging your own self to speak up and make your presence inside more obvious. The subtle scent of antiseptics and inks filled in your lungs as you inhaled, but instead of giving you more courage, you became more nervous. It’s just an appointment, you thought to yourself, you can always call later and say you have to call it off. Yeah, that sounded like a plan in your head and with that plan, your legs automatically moved towards the exit, despite what you wished to do.

“Running away, princess?”

That voice. You couldn’t mistake it for anyone else, you knew the soft, tender tone that even laced with malice sounded so pleasurable to the ear. You knew the owner, although not that close, but you met him many times – not one of them being all that nice. It was Suguru Geto, one of the biggest heartthrobs in your college. He rocked a disposable, black surgical mask that was pulled down under his chin and a pair of black gloves that he was in the process of taking off. Silver earrings glistened in the dim light of the salon, just as his rings were when he finally dealt with the hand protection. Your eyes glazed over the metallic accessories he had on – that also tickled something inside of you, triggering an unknown fantasy of having those long, ringed fingers of him deep in your… Suguru had nice hands.

“I’m not running away,” you told him, hoping that your voice was as firm as you intended it to be. Spoiler alert, it wasn't.

“No? Looked like it.” He chuckled, throwing the latex to the designated trash. His tone was taunting, you felt so small under the weight of his golden gaze. “Are you lost, little girl? You don’t exactly fit in that place now, do you?”

“You’re working here?” The question slipped through your mouth as if it wasn’t completely obvious from the very fact that he was here, alone, equipped in safety gloves and a mask, so near the closing time.

“Do I work here?” He took a look around himself, taking the mask off his ears and throwing it away before once again looking at you. “It’s kinda my place, so yeah, you could say so.”

That actually made sense the more you thought about it. Suguru was your senior, he was two years older and now finishing college. You had some of the faculties joint with his year and you were always the one to sit beside him – by the orders of the teacher, not by your own choice, although sitting next to him wasn’t that bad usually. You can clearly remember that during every lecture, he was doodling something on the screen of his ipad – something that you never really paid attention to because for your own good, you decided that staying away from the so-called frat boys was the best you could do. All this time, he probably was designing tattoo patterns.

“Right, so-“

“I assume, if you’re here that means you’d like to have something inked, is that correct?”

“Y-yeah, but, uh-“

“Are you 100% about it or did you come here to stutter?” You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious about your decisions or just mocking your nervousness, but either way, you felt it in ways you probably shouldn’t. This man had some power in his demeanor, and when he leaned over the counter, propping himself on the elbows and looking at you like a predator would glance at his pray, you felt small.

Suguru wasn’t the typical fuckboy, although he for sure was a magnet for the ladies, thanks to his absolutely stunning visual. That, you couldn’t deny – he was just gorgeous, with his sharp features that somehow still looked soft and inviting, the golden irises of his eyes that never faltered from eye contact, manly jawline and long, luscious locks of black hair that he often tied in a low bun. You never seen him in anything that wasn’t grey or black – white when it really was an odd day – but other than that, he was dressing in monochrome and you truly couldn’t blame him. He was a type to make the most boring sweats set look like the sexiest outfit on earth with just the fact that it was him who wore it. Yeah, he was gorgeous, you had to give him that, or rather blame him for that, because his apparition was for sure going to be the beginning to your end. Speaking dramatically, of course.

“I’m sure.” You forced out, mentally kicking yourself for being caught off guard just because it was him. You were never that taken aback near him, but you were also never alone with him. It was easier to stay indifferent when there were people around, when all of his focus wasn’t targeted at you and when that gorgeous pair of eyes wasn’t gazing straight into your soul. You felt like he could read your thoughts just by looking at you.

“Cool. So, let me close and you’d tell me what’s your vision.”

Suguru found your presence in his studio amusing. He’s seen you at uni, you were quite known in his circle of friends that unofficially were called the frat boys, even though your college didn’t really have this kind of organization. It’s due to your friendship with the cheerleader’s leader, but thing is – although you’re close with most of the fun girls, you were most definitely no fun whatsoever and for some reason, Geto found it interesting. And the fact you never faltered to speak up for yourself… How he��d wish to fuck the attitude out of you. He himself wasn’t exactly the type to party until blackout, drink until sunrise or have a checklist for girls to screw at the college. He had no wish to cross any names off of any list. Aware of his good looks, he used them to their limits to make his way through studies smoother and there were not many things that he couldn’t achieve if he tried hard enough. Even the principal of his faculty had a soft spot for him, so many things he was able to get away with. That being said, if he really wanted to have a girl, unless she was really hooked in someone else, he would probably face no issues of getting her. That’s what he thought, until you came to picture. Considering every charm and trick he had up his sleeve, he was almost certain that getting you wouldn’t be so easy for him, or for any of his friends. And now you were here, in his shrine, trying to sound confident when you most certainly weren’t. Adorable.

You watched him pulling down the shades in the windows and turning keys in the lock, effectively closing you both inside the studio and in a matter of few minutes, you were situated with him on the couch, sitting quite snug as you scrolled through your phone to find the picture of your little drawing. It took everything from you not to melt into his side. The way he smelled was intoxicating, a mixture of cedar wood, pepper and some kind of citrus – a tangerine if you were to guess. And the warmth of his body was so inviting. Before being so close to him, you didn’t even notice how cold you were – apparently your shorts and a sweatshirt weren’t good enough for the October evening, even though during the day it still was way too warm for the fall attire.

Geto waited patiently for you to find the picture you just told him about. The sketch you did that was meant to present him the idea of what you wanted to have tattooed onto your skin and as you were scrolling through your gallery, he took this time to take you in. He noticed that you have a really nice profile. Your lips were pouty, just slightly pushed forward and so kissable right now, as you were focused on the display in front of your face. Your hair looked good also and he couldn’t deny the fact that you looked like you’d perfectly fit into his arms. And on his dick. You were way smaller than him, but that wasn’t unusual – he was a fucking giant, but something in your frame made you appear like you’d slip into his embrace just right and that thought make him go crazy. It’s been quite some time since he found a girl so captivating.

“Here, I found it,” you informed, showing him the screen, and he placed his hand over yours, slightly shifting the device so he can see it better. A hum left his mouth as he analyzed the drawing you did. It showed two betta fishes, one black and one white, positioned in circle, as if they were chasing each other’s tails. The pattern was intricate – the fins were ruffled and detailed, scales bearing a little bit of shading and yet, the whole image was quite a simple one. It also reminded him a little about the yin and yang symbol. He liked the idea, it worked well with his perception of you and what surprised him was the fact that he as well had a little tandem of bettas tattooed on his body and there was no way you’d know that.

“And where would that be?”

“I thought on the sternum maybe?”

“Oh, that’s going to hurt like hell, princess,” Suguru chuckled, already opening the new canvas on his tablet. “How are you with pain?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be good,” you accentuated the words with a nod at the end and leaned in a little bit to see what he began to draw. The pencil slid over the grey colored screen with skill that stunned you. Just from memory and the little reference you had in your hand, he quite quickly created the basic sketch of what you just showed him.

That night you spent two hours with him on the couch in his salon, admiring in quiet the process of creating a finished artwork. You enjoyed every second of it, the artistic sequence of lines made something unbelievably good, impressing you to the very core, even though you already looked through the little gallery he had on the wall. Seeing it being put down in real time made it that much more captivating and you didn’t even notice how during the process you glued yourself to him, nearly laying your head over his strong shoulder, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.

When he was about to finish, you understood why he chose grey background to work with. As the last step, he dragged the white color over one of the fishes and that really made the whole piece magical.

“That’s perfect,” you told him when he tilted the screen so you could see it better. Taking his ipad in your hands to closer examine the creation of his hands, you nearly gasped at the incredible detail he put into the scales, shading each and every one individually. And the tails were so beautifully drawn, perfectly reflecting how they would just flow in the water.

Geto would lie if he said that the admiration your eyes were overflowing with wasn’t fueling his pride. Sure, his clients liked his projects – obviously, cause they let themselves be tattooed with them, but somehow the sparkle in your eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

“Is that so?” He purred, wrapping his arm around your back and planting his hand on the curve of your hip. There was no protest from you – quite the contrary, Geto noticed you even scooted a little closer, but the reason made itself apparent sooner than he’d expect. Even through the fabric of his dark washed jeans he could feel how cold was your thigh when it made full contact with the side of his leg. He placed a hand over your naked skin to check if his senses weren’t fooling him. “Gosh, you’re so cold.”

“It’s nothing,” you tried to shrug it off, but the feeling of his palm pressed against your plump flesh sent searing impulses through your nervous system. Slowly, you became almost painfully aware of how pleasant the near proximity of him was. How perfectly warm he felt next to you and your mind couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be even closer. You actively tried to suppress those thoughts, but it was damn difficult, when he was just right there, so easy to reach.

“You look great in those shorts, but the summer is over, pretty,” Suguru muttered, his voice just slightly amused as he let his fingers smooth over the supple flesh of your inner thigh. He was so close to where you wanted him to be and yet so far.

“Yea, I know. It was warm during the day though. I was supposed to be home hours ago,” you confessed with a sigh, already thinking about the cold you have to walk through to get to your apartment. It wasn’t far, but if you were freezing inside Curseive, you’d most likely turn into an icicle when you get out, considering it was already midnight.

“Well, let me schedule your appointment and I’ll take you home.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I’ll set you up for next month, so you’ll have plenty of time to chicken out,” he teased, shooting you a wink and making you roll your eyes.

That night, you did many things you’d call unreasonable. You spent few hours in closed space with a man you probably shouldn’t have anything in common, you leaned into him without giving it a second thought. That night you made an appointment to your first tattoo. That night Suguru carried you home in his arms, wrapped in a blanket he kept in the studio in case someone felt cold during the inking process. And that night, you let him into your bed.

If anyone was to meet Suguru for the first time, they’d probably say he’s absolutely perfect human being. Kind and always keen to help, very soft spoken and caring and mostly, they would be right, because he really was all of those things to the public eye. Before, you considered him a red flag, but it turned out, he didn’t leave you alone after he fucked you. You expected him to be gone as soon as he pulled his dick out of you, you expected him to ignore you after that night, but he stayed with you till morning, not even once letting go of you. You woke up to the soft kisses smeared over your shoulder and a little tickle of his hair brushing against your flesh instead of the cold bed.

You spend day after day at learning things about each other. You got to know how he liked his coffee in the morning, what foods he enjoy and what shampoo he uses to keep his hair so luscious and gorgeous all the time. Suguru noted to himself what sweets bring you the most joy, he discovered that the little scrunch on your nose when you’re laughing is the most adorable thing in the world and he also studied the playlist of your favorite music, finding out you share similar taste when it comes to songs. You spent hours drawing with him, creating designs on his tablet while sitting in between his legs, your back pressed to his broad chest. Sometimes he was suggesting changes to what you created and sometimes you were the one to add some details to what came from underneath his pen.

It’s been a month since you got together with him, or at least, since you started paying more attention to each other. With good dose of confidence, you could call him your boyfriend – even though it wasn’t officially talked through between you two, your actions made it pretty hard to deny. It just happened, after the first night together, you just became closer and there was no need to give it a title, when everyone knew you’re in relationship. You were holding hands in the campus, kissing publicly and spending time together for most of the breaks. You got to know his friends, his brothers and even got the password to unlock his phone. Yeah, it’s been only a month, but your bond with him developed quite quickly. Turned out, Suguru Geto wasn’t anything that you assumed he is. He’s lovely, really. Saccharine sweet if he really wants to be, but what no one seemed to be able to notice was that he really is a meanie sometimes.

Just like now, as you laid on the dark leathery bed in Suguru’s salon, already having enough of this whole idea of getting a tattoo and he only just started. To his credit, he did warn you that it’s going to hurt like hell, even suggested picking another place for your first tattoo with real concern in his voice, but you weren’t anticipating this kind of hell when you insisted you wanted it below your cleavage. It really was something you couldn’t compare to anything else in your life – maybe a kick in the shin, but continuous and in the middle of your chest.

Geto was working in focus, keeping his eyes on the pattern he was permanently imprinting onto your skin and taking little breaks from time to time to check on you. Last thing he wanted was you fainting there, and you felt like you were close. You couldn’t even focus on how the chocolate tasted on your tongue – the one he bought you, so you can have something to snack on during the process. The way his needles were stabbing the delicate, sensitive skin of your chest millions of times made you feel sick. The vibration of the machine reverberated directly into the bone below, enhancing the horrible experience and you could have sworn you were actually hearing the pain, while he was going over and over again through some areas. The choice of white ink made it that much worse, because to even make it properly visible, he had to re-trace the shapes more times and you felt each of them.

“Oh, you’re such a crybaby,” he teased softly, noticing the glistening trace of a tear that just rolled down your cheek. “Told you it’s gonna be a painful process.”

“Oh, shut up, Sugu,” you muttered, wiping the salty mark away and taking another chocolate. “Can we take a little break?”

“Let me finish that one and I’ll give you a minute. Sounds cool?”

“Uh-huh…”

You weren’t looking at what he was doing, and those little moments that he promised will get you that breather you asked for seemed to stretch for hours. The constant, sickening poking of the needles seemed to never end and at some point, you really were that close to just yank him by the hair and throw the tattoo gun out the window, just so he’ll stop for even a moment. But the break never came, Suguru just kept going, telling you he needs to just finish that line until the relief washed over you, when he smeared some kind of gel over the area of your sternum. You felt almost orgasmic, when the cold, soothing fluid covered the burning skin between your breasts.

“You can stop crying now, baby girl, we’re all done,” he all but sneered, making sure to cover the entire pattern with the healing formula that he made sure was enriched with anesthetics. He ordered that specially for your session.

“We’re done?” You repeated after him, wiping away the tears.

“Yes, baby, save those tears for me later.” He teased, helping you get up from the bed and you hopped down on the ground to properly see the artwork in the mirror. The skin around the lines was red, but the pattern itself made you gasp. It was made so beautifully, the lines were crisp and very thin, perfectly mirroring the vision you had, and the white ink? Gorgeous. Suguru put his entire soul into your tattoo, it was a mark he left on you that will stay there forever and sometimes you wished he’ll stay with you just as long.

“You’re so mean,” you grumbled, admiring the shapes that now were stuck to you permanently. Geto laughed quietly and wrapped his already ungloved hands around you, standing right behind and checking his work in the reflection.

“And what’s my crybaby gonna do about it?” He couldn’t help the mock and the glare you shot him only made his laughter bigger.

“I’ll ban you from my bed,” you deadpanned, a soft pout forming on your mouth and you slapped his hand away when he tried to undo the only button that held your tiny cardigan together.

“Then I’ll take you to mine and you’ll have to deal with Satoru sleeping with us. You know he can’t help himself and you know how that will end, right?”

“I know, I know…” you sighed, too focused on the lines that adorned your skin to care about the clinginess of Gojo, although you felt the soft cringe washing over you quickly. The artist in you was screaming, giggling and kicking its legs – the tattoo was everything you wished it to be and more. “It’s so beautiful, Sugu.”

“You like it, huh?” Geto smiled, leaning in to have a taste of you. The kiss he pressed to the side of your neck sent immediate shivers down your spine and you tilted your head as an automatic reaction. Your body knew that giving him more space will result in more pleasure. “I like it too,” he purred against your skin. “No bra for you for at least few days, pretty. I’ll be checking.”

“No cum on my tits either, poor little you.”

“You didn’t just call me little, did you?”

“And if I did?”

“Isn’t my dick pretty much the size of your entire forearm?” He joked, looking you up and down in the mirror. It was comical in a sense, to see what buttons you were eager to push when it was clear as day that you’re just tiny next to him.

"I wouldn't say so."

“Oh, you little brat. And to think I felt guilty for making you cry today,” Suguru shook his head and it was you this time who chuckled.

“You shamelessly tortured me for two hours, where’s the guilt in that?”

“I could have tortured you for three. Am I not the best for making it quick?”

“You’d love to make me suffer for longer, wouldn’t you?”

“Not before, but now I might wanna make you cry a little more.”

You shook your head and followed him, so he could put the protective film over the tattoo and once you sat on the edge of the tattooing bed, Geto pressed not only the second skin to your chest but also his lips to yours. The force with which he leaned against you made you almost loose your balance as the metallic frame underneath you squeaked from the sudden weight change. With ease, the man encaged you between his arms, intimidating your small form with his much larger one. You were no match for Geto when it came to sizes. He is a damn giant next to you – tall and broad, nothing but wall of muscle with limbs long and strong. Sometimes, you found it unfair how easily he was able to overpower you, manhandling you any way he wanted, no matter how much you’d fight.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling his weight overpowering you and you tried to push him away, desperate to catch some air into your lungs but that desperation only made you mewling into his mouth. The cold metal of his lip piercing never failed to send shivers down your spine, whenever he was kissing you like his life depended on it. He made you feel special, even though you were far from it.

“My sweet girl,” Suguru praised, his words being kissed away by you, because as much as you needed oxygen, you also needed him just a little bit closer. “My little crybaby.”

“I think you owe me some kind of apology for the pain you’ve put me through,” you muttered, grabbing his lower lip between your teeth and swiftly taking the elastic from his hair. The pitch-black locks fell down his broad shoulders, keeping the slightest curl to them from the way they were tied up.

“Oh yeah?” A grin stretched his lips and his fingers immediately found their way to the front of your jeans. “I’m not going to apologize for something you signed up for, but I’ll gladly eat that pussy as a form of payment.”

His remark made you roll your eyes, but any comment you wished to throw at him got lost when he pressed his digits to your clothed clit. Suguru smiled in satisfaction, feeling the wet patch spreading over your panties. Desperate to see it all, he pulled back and took those jeans off of you completely, taking your underwear along with it. Cold air hit your soaked folds, making you shiver as you spread out for him.

“Look at you,” Geto smirked, sitting down on his stool and spinning your panties around his pointer finger, “all wet and ready and I barely just touched you. Or is it that pain you’re so whiney about what made your panties so soaked?”

“Don’t focus on that,” you muttered, snatching the cotton from his hands. “Focus on me.”

“So demanding.” Suguru chuckled, but truth was, as much as he wished to tease you a little more, his mouth was already watering at the sight in front of him. You were a meal he’d choose to have as his last supper, the most delicious dessert he could slurp on for hours and never get bored. Every inch of you, he found to be perfect, you raised the bar of his standards to the point he couldn’t even look at other girls around him. You really got him addicted and he wasn’t even mad about it.

The feeling of hot kisses Suguru was planting all over your thighs made you scoot closer to the edge. Usually, you’d let him do his thing – you loved his mouth marking your skin. You loved the bruised spots he liked to suck on here and there only to claim his place beside you, you loved the soft touches and harsh grips. But now, you really wanted him to jump straight to action. Those nips and kisses can wait.

You allowed your fingers to brush through his silky locks, your nails scratched his scalp along the way and he purred softly before a gasp cut the sound short – it surprised him how roughly you grabbed the strands of his hair, right next to his scull and pushed his head nose deep into your pussy. It was new to him, no one ever dared to tug at his hair and when it was you, he was more than keen to get used to it. The stinging feeling of the pull at his hair follicles sent an impulse straight down to his already erected cock, making it now impossibly hard and Suguru was thanking himself that his work attire that day consisted of sweatpants and not jeans.

You couldn’t help yourself, you knew he had the strength to fight you back if he really needed, so his suffocation wasn’t any of your concerns. And Geto took the challenge with pleasure. His pierced tongue danced over your clit as if he was trying to tattoo his own name over the swollen bud between your folds. The mixture of his hot muscle and cold metal made you whine above him, squeezing his hair even harder, pushing his head even deeper. A low, deep purr that left his throat reverberated through your entire nervous system and sipping into the bloodstream, making the pleasure rush inside your veins instead of blood.

“Oh my god, Suguru-“, you breathed out, coming undone just underneath the skill he had in his mouth. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, like he would die if he won’t bring you over the edge just with his tongue, like he was born to pleasure you. A coil quickly began to form in your stomach, a string threatening to snap at any given moment if he’ll continue with the intensity of his actions. Your thighs trembled, squeezing around his head, but he held them apart with force. He wasn’t done with you yet.

You couldn’t control the way his name was leaving your mouth; it came out like a prayer that he’d love to listen on repeat for the rest of his life. A music that filled his ears with pleasure and that pleasure seeped down, creating a river of ecstasy running down straight to his straining cock. You really got him to the point he felt he’s going to cum in his pants, but then the hold on his hair loosened. He used that moment to catch a breath before going back to his work.

“Don’t hold back,” he purred, keeping your hand where it belonged over his head, getting rid of any guilt you felt regarding pulling at his hair. You came not long after and he happily slurped you through the bliss, licking away everything you gave him, devouring your pussy as if nothing better was ever going to happen to him. “So sweet,” he grinned, finally pulling away. His face covered with your slick and hair messed up from where you held it, and he looked so beautiful like that when you looked back at him. Surrounded by haze of your release, he looked nearly angelic when he got up, pushing back the stool and taking his rightful place between your still trembling thighs. Giving you a moment to collect yourself, Suguru used it to take off his t-shirt for no other reason that to feel your hands over his skin and you were quick to press your palms over his tattooed flesh.

Geto’s body was only one of things that were impressive about him, but unarguably one of the most breathtaking. Years of training martial arts made his shape resemble the stone statues of gods. A hard wall of muscles covered with a light layer of soft skin and adorned by black lines of ink. You never failed to trace your fingers along the dragon that curled around his entire arm and spreading onto his chest. He also had a line of letters underneath the side of his ribcage and two betta fishes swimming up along his spine, following a trace of abstract lines and dots. He had told you once about the meanings beside all of images that adorned his body, but you couldn’t recall them now as he was once more kissing you feverishly. You tasted yourself all over his mouth, you took in his purrs and low groans that vibrated in his throat when you pushed down the waistline of his sweatpants, palming him through his boxers.

Geto grabbed your thighs, repositioning you closer the edge.

“Shouldn’t I avoid any physical activities with that tattoo so fresh?” You asked him with the littlest teasing undertone and he grinned, kissing your lips and everywhere around them with fervor.

“I’ll go slow, babygirl,” he promised, but slow is hardly the word he’d use once he pushed his girth into you. If you were a drug, Suguru was addicted to the point of no return, he never had enough of you, always too little, always eager for more and more and more. You were a godsend to him, a gift he was certain he never deserved but he cherished it with all of his might. Just like with all of his might he began thrusting into you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking them above his pelvis as if you needed to make sure he’s not going anywhere. Soft pants and whimpers were leaving your mouth every time his hips collided with yours and the sounds you were making concocted an erotic symphony with the low grunts he let slip through his throat. The melodic line of mixed voices, quiet praises and heavy breaths accompanied the desperate squeaking of the bed below you and wet reminders of how he was fucking into your dripping pussy.

Every ruthless push and pull of his hips sent surges of pleasure through your body. Lust and heat erupted inside of you like a volcano and the searing lava of endorphins turned your brain into a flurry. The room around was lapsing, nothing else mattered and even the untrusty bed underneath you, that held there just barely underneath the force of Suguru’s relentless slams couldn’t bother you when he was fucking you that good.

Flaming hot waves of white covered your vision as you hid your face in the crook of Geto’s neck. Panting for air, you held onto his shoulders harshly, digging your nails into the flesh there and marking it in red with crescent moons and scratches. The stinging pain made him whine in excitement, the sound low and prolonged enough to make your walls clench and flex around him. The stretch of his cock was setting your mind ablaze along with your body, your heart was beating fast and threatening to jump out of your chest.

“Sugu-ru-ah~”, you were panting, whimpering shamelessly under the force of his pelvis slamming against yours and he grinned above you, his grip over your hips merciless and bruising.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, smearing wet kisses along the line that led from underneath your ear to your shoulder. Something incoherent left your mouth and you felt yourself close, the swollen walls of your pussy squeezing him repeatedly and he knew you were close but wasn’t ready to give it to you quite yet.

It’s like you blacked out for a moment because it felt like you barely blinked and then your position changed. You didn’t notice how swiftly Geto slid onto the bed himself, situating you over his lap.

“Hop on baby, work for it a little,” he mocked lovingly, giving your ass cheek an encouraging slap. There was barely enough place for the two of you, but you made it work anyway, sliding back down onto his dripping from your juices cock. A soft moan escaped your lips as his girth once again squeezed into your oversensitive insides, pushing against every sweet spot on the way and making you shiver as the tip kissed your cervix. Desperate to feel more of him, you began rolling your hips, working your way into the palace of pleasure that Suguru Geto was and making the most out of the current position. His exposed chest and neck begged to be devoured and you couldn’t leave them neglected, so your mouth was on his skin in no time.

Suguru kept bucking his hips upwards, gasping and growling underneath you. His hands left burning marks over your ass, each slap sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body and the little whines you were letting out against his skin fueled the intense fire that burned inside of him even more. Sometimes Geto couldn’t believe you really were with him. Sometimes he wondered if maybe he’s high on something, maybe he’s imagining you, but only thing he really was high on, was you. Nothing could compare to the way your tight pussy swallowed his cock, to the way your little hands were grasping his arms and shoulders just to steady yourself when his force was becoming too much and absolutely nothing could stand even close to the intoxicating feeling of your lips on top of his. You really were made just for him, it had to be fate that once you stumbled upon his studio. He still remembers the first time you let him in, spontaneously inviting him over and after that, every day seemed to be somehow better than the previous one. Every minute he spent with you managed to surprise him with how good it felt. Suguru was hooked on you. But how could he not, when you had the ability to strip him of everything that was cool about him, leaving him raw and sensitive just for you?

“Fuck, c’mon, cry for me,” he panted, forcing your hips to move even when you clearly were running low on power. Your entire body was tensing, the velvety walls of your pussy squelching over his length and he felt himself flexing inside the hot embrace of you. The rush of ecstasy sent him overboard, it filled his veins and neurons with blissful daze of desire, and he found himself chasing the high, bracing for the impact of upcoming climax.

You whined and melted into him, lost in the haze and diving head first into the puddle of pleasure. The feeling overtook you, you couldn’t think anymore when he was pulling you underneath the euphoric sea. You felt light from pleasure, the ferocity of his movements burning you inside out, sending seething waves throughout your entire form. With vision blurred, nothing felt real anymore and if not for the rough grip he had on your hip and ass, you’d probably fly away and never get back.

Lost in the stars and haze of orgasm, you pushed yourself up, encouraged by few more harsh slaps and Geto followed you to sit up for no other reason than to be able to still taste you. At this point you were sure he tattooed not only betta fishes onto your chest but also the imprint of his hands to your butt cheeks. Gathering every last bit of strength you had in your muscles, you rolled your hips against him few times more. All of the intensity that was building inside of you snapped suddenly. Your spine arched and head rolled back, exposing your neck and chest to his kisses as he pushed you over the edge of bliss and you fell off that cliff with nothing but acceptance. Tears of pleasure rolled down your face and Geto was quick to kiss them away as they gathered along your lashes and down your jawline.

The weak sound of his name slipping down your tongue was enough for Suguru to let go. White hot ribbons of cum sprayed deep inside you as you rode him through both of your orgasms, the movements of your hips now slower and sloppier, bearing no more strength in them and yet, time after time you pulled them back and forth, desperate to feel him a little longer, to take more from him.

“My little crybaby,” he cooed, when you finally run out of battery, settling down on him and leaning against his broad chest, hiding there to catch your breath. You were sore, still overwhelmed by the avalanche of feelings that just fell over your head but satisfied to the point of delirium – so much so that you let the little honey-covered taunt slip. Suguru smoothed your back softly, relaxing in your proximity, once again stunned how somehow, you managed to make all of it feel better than the last time you slept together. Highs with you were unforgettable. Nonreplaceable. Incomparable to anything else he ever felt with anyone.

“Thanks god you’re strong,” you muttered against his skin, planting there few kisses while you’re at it. “I don’t think my legs will work after that.”

Geto chuckled. Yeah, he was going to marry you one day.

“No worries, sweet thing, your place in my arms is secured for lifetime.”

“Good.”

“But first, let me get you cleaned up.”

Your legs were weak when you got off of him, but surprisingly carried you enough to allow you to slowly pull yourself together. Suguru cleaned the space a little while you got dressed and made sure the protective film over your fresh tattoo was unharmed during the activities before you buttoned up your cardigan.

* * *

“Suguru, you still here?” Gojo stormed in, even though the studio was locked, but truth was, nothing could really be locked when it came to Satoru.

“Don’t tell me you copied the keys to my studio.” Geto chuckled, finishing the final wipe of the bed. There was no force that could stop his friend from invading his spaces, he dropped the effort years ago.

“I won’t tell you, you got this.” Satoru shrugged and looked at you. Then at Suguru and back at you, repeating that at least few times. “Were you two fucking here?”

“And why would you ask that?”

“No, the real question is, did that thing endure it?” White haired man pointed at the leathery bed. “What a champ, I thought it’ll collapse.”

“Fair,” you admitted at the same time as Suguru, and handed your man the hair elastic that you snatched from him earlier.

“So, what were you doing here? Besides contaminating the area of course.”

“I got a tattoo,” you replied to him and Satoru grinned.

“For real? That chest piece he told me month ago that you’ll for sure chicken out for?”

“Yeah, that one.” This time it was you who laughed and Geto just shrugged, tying up his hair.

Satoru wasted no time, it’s like he teleported to you and before you registered what was happening, he was already unbuttoning your blouse and truly, you couldn’t really be bothered. It’s been only a little less than a month since you really got to know Gojo, but it was very quickly presented to you that him and your boyfriend have a thing for sharing. It was as natural for them as breathing and whenever you saw them together, you wondered how it happened that they weren’t brothers by blood.

“It’s so cool, Suguru. Who knows, maybe I’ll let you tattoo something on me too.” Snow white grinned, examining the concoction of lines over your sternum. He had to bend in half almost, to be in line with the pattern on your skin so you brushed through his hair, messing them more than they were already.

“Not that it’s my life mission to do so, Satoru.” Geto stretched his body and glanced over the room once more, making sure he can close the studio for that day without leaving any visible remnants of what happened just moments ago.

“Doesn’t it kinda look like us?” Gojo asked, stopping you before you covered yourself back. “The black and white contrast… am I the only one who think so?”

It wasn’t your intention, but as he said it, you began seeing it. It really made sense, especially considering that Geto mixed the tiniest bit of lavender ink to the white, to prevent it from yellowing over time. That lavender coincidentally being the exact shade as the undertone of Gojo’s hair.

“Well, not anymore,” the black haired one sighed and once you managed to button up your blouse, he swooped you up into his arms. “You’re gonna lock the doors, Satoru. Turn off the lights.”

“Sooo…” Gojo nearly sang, flicking off the switches and turning the keys in the locks, making sure everything is well secured before he joined you two, already walking slowly towards your home. “Are you ours now?”

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