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Breathless

Summary: In which Willow can't seem to catch her breath around Hunter. "You want to help with my research, right? You think I got these eyebags from only staying up till 2 am?”

WC: 8.5k

TW: Hunter x Willow Park, mostly post King’s Tide, minor post time-skip where squad returns to the Demon realm, portal works, and everyone is doing ok :D, mutual pining, cute and awkward teen romance???, teenagers amiright 💁‍♀️✨️, idiots in love, a 4 times+1 time fic bc 5+1 doesn’t make sense to me, he fell first but she fell harder, minor insecure Willow, minor Hunter having an identity crisis

AN: Inspired by the linked artwork of amazing Twitter artist @beaniewinnie96!!

⏤

Willow thinks she's getting sick.

They come and go, bouts of airless lungs and necessary deep inhales, attempts of her just trying to breathe, and you would think it should come easy. Something as basic and natural as breathing. At first, she pushes the matter aside. It’s probably just anxiety⏤mini panic attacks⏤subjects she’s familiar with. Those are a thing, right??

She eventually learns that is not the case, and she is completely out of her element.

The first time she has one of those “mini-panic attacks”, she deems them, it’s almost a week after they fell into the Human realm. It's been a hard couple of days. The transition is rough; they never thought they’d end up here, not under these circumstances. When Luz tells stories of her life in the Human realm, her eyes light up in a way the Demon realm never does for her, a kind of wistful gleam and wobbly smile that says, I miss home, though her friend doesn’t say it. But that look, it’s enough to make her dream what it’d be like, their little squad clad in human attire as Luz drags them around her hometown, showing them the wonders of her world. A world functioning without magic.

She got her wish in the worst way possible.

And Luz, ever attuned to the vibes of their team, thinks it’s a good idea to take them to the "mall". Whatever that is. Boost morale, she says. After all, Mrs. Noceda says they deserve to have something of their own while in the Human realm, and they can’t keep rotating between her and Luz’s wardrobe. They pointedly refuse to acknowledge the oversized clothes Hunter’s been borrowing since the rainy night they arrived.

But she's right. A trip to the "mall" is exactly what they need.

It’s strange yet fascinating. A structure as big as Hexside, only sleek and shinier, with store fronts lining the walls and center, reminding her of the local marketplaces at home. The thought alone makes her throat close up. But then Gus’s eyes blow wide and he squeals, practically vibrating as he tugs Mrs. Noceda to the nearest store⏤she assumes for human toys?⏤grinning the widest he’s been in what feels like centuries. Firing questions a mile a minute, he looks his age again, childlike wonder and all, and it’s enough to bring some light back into the children's tired eyes as they break off to explore, Mrs. Noceda shouting back at them to meet at that spot in an hour.

Luz and Amity are quick to pair up, and with no intention of third-wheeling, Willow saddles next to Hunter, an instinct that's quickly become second nature nowadays. They lag behind the couple as Luz directs them to the nearest clothing store (“You-knee-qui-low?” “Close enough.”). Weaving between the racks, she lets her hands brush over soft fabrics and stiff cloths, and it’s not long when she finds something for herself. Satisfied, she wanders into the next aisle to find Hunter frowning at a wall of neatly shelved clothes.

“Find anything you like?”

Hunter jolts, whirling to face her. “Captain! Um⏤” He flushes, tugging the hood over his ears tighter. Endearing, Willow thinks, unable to help the smile that automatically spreads across her face. “No, not yet.”

“Not a big fan of colors?” She asks, coming to stand next to him as she eyes the selection of shirts, all different colors and prints.

“Not necessarily. I mean, I’m used to the neutral colors from the coven, but I don’t mind a bit of color,” His voice comes hesitant, and she notes the way he fiddles with the cloth of a hanging shirt. One of his gloves, the exact pair Mrs. Noceda had to coax from him so she can dry them from the rain, is untucked from the sleeve of the sweatshirt. “But the texture…”

She hums in understanding. Hunter tilts his head curiously as she purses her lips, thoughtful and cute with the green bandana shifting over her ears. His face grows hotter, and as he bats the thought away, she turns wordlessly, scanning the store before walking off. She hears Hunter call out to her, and she gestures for him to follow, leading them a few aisles down, stopping a few times to touch clothes, only twice plucking them off its hanger or shelf.

When they come to halt by the changing rooms, Willow shoves the small stack into his arms. “Here, try these on.”

“O-oh, okay,” Hunter mumbles as she ushers him behind the curtain. The child soldier he was, he’s quick and efficient, stepping out minutes later. He smiles awkwardly, seconds passing as she stares at him, unblinking. He stands straighter, stiff arms outstretched. “So, what do you think?”

Think?

Right. Thoughts. She has those.

But not right now. Any trains of thought she has skids to a halt as her eyes trail over his figure. She knows she has a thing for fashion. Back home, her style is the one thing she feels like she has control over, the one thing she can do effortlessly before she transferred to the plant track, and she likes to think that she’s knowledgeable when it comes to aesthetics now, but she doesn’t realize that skill transcends realms.

She can’t explain it, but something about Hunter in human clothes just suits him. Almost naturally. He looks good. Like really good.

So good that she forgets breathing’s a thing.

Reminding herself that it is in fact a thing, Willow inhales deeply as she collects the first thought that comes to mind. "Perfect," she exhales, and something in her tone makes him flush redder than he already is. She chuckles, eyes crinkling as he gives her a dramatic spin, the warm, yellow flannel swishing along his lean frame, "How does it feel?"

He pauses, blinking at her. "Feel?"

"Yeah. You always seem to wear layers and the gloves would definitely clash with the shirts you were looking at earlier." Without thinking, she takes his hand, the little "meep" he lets out going over her head as she thumbs at the price tag. "This 'flan-nel' felt pretty thick and smooth. A-and both this and the beanie are soft. I thought you might like it?"

Willow looks up, meeting his eyes, and Hunter tries not to stare as her lips quirk, like she's trying to hide her hesitance and insecurity. It's a fraction compared to the first day they met, how he'd hurt her enough to make her doubt herself.

She genuinely hopes he likes what she picked out for him.

To be honest, he'd wear anything if she asked him to. Which is exactly what went through his mind the moment he entered the changing room, nearly bumping into the walls as he yanked the sweatshirt over his head. The captain picked these for you, Hunter! Make yourself presentable!! He threw on the flannel over the black t-shirt he borrowed from Mrs. Noceda, not even considering how smooth and heavy it felt on the exposed skin of his arms, and how soft the beanie felt over the tips of his ears.

The fact that she put that much thought into it, that she hadn't just snatched the first thing she came across as doable, that her decisions were calculated, warms his thundering heart.

Or galdorstone. He's still not sure what exactly beats in his chest.

Whichever one it is, it’s in his throat now as Hunter gathers the courage to take her hand, the one holding up his own. Ignoring the heat spreading to his face, he offers her a reassuring smile, not caring the brunt of his teeth are on display, “It’s perfect, Captain. Thank you.”

She beams up at him, and when she tells him to change so they can go pay with Luz and Amity, he hopes to smile as beautiful as her one day.

⏤

“We’re over budget.”

“...What?”

⏤

The second time she gets another mini-panic attack, they're coming on two weeks into their stay, it's late into the night, and Willow can’t sleep.

It's not weird; it's never easy for her to sleep anywhere that isn't home, except for Gus’s. Coupled with the disaster that was the Day of Unity and the fact she's in a new realm where everything is basically upside down to her, a decent night's rest seems far out of reach.

But she'd never admit that outloud. She doesn't need anyone fretting over her, she thinks, glancing at Luz as she snores softly in bed, and at Amity, still as the dead in her own sleeping bag. They're bigger things to worry about than her skewed sleep schedule. Like finding a way home.

So when she finds herself awake at the oddest hours again, unable to go back to sleep, she decides to head down to the kitchen. Get some more water, maybe make that warm honey milk Mrs. Noceda showed her before. It seemed to work wonders before, when everyone was too worried to sleep. Hopefully, it'll do the trick.

Careful as she shuts the bedroom door, she creeps down the stairs, flinching with every creek of the floorboards. Eventually, she reaches the first floor, only to blink back her surprise as a light from the living room seeps into the dark hallway.

She pokes her head around the corner, calling out softly, “Hunter?”

Just as she thought, there he is, settled on the couch with a thick, leather bound book and a steaming mug on the coffee table. The borrowed pajamas hang off him like a coat rack, but she ignores the burn in her ears as shadows contour his exposed sternum, sprinkled with faded scars trailing down to his chest.

Titan, calm yourself. It's just skin.

Yeah. Of a boy who is ho—

—not ugly.

“Captain?” Unaware of her turmoil, he looks at her, “What are you doing up?”

She shakes off her fluster. "Me? Why are you still awake? It's like 1 am.”

"Oh. Whoops. Sorry," He doesn't sound apologetic. Or surprised. He returns his somber gaze to the book, smoothing a gloved hand over the pages. "I'll try to sleep soon. I'm almost done anyway."

She takes a seat beside him and leans closer, scanning the text. "What's all this?"

"Just a little history, mostly of Gravesfield," Face warm, Hunter’s thankful for the dim light of the lamp as he tilts the book towards her, "Since I can't learn much about how magic works in this world, Vee's been helpful, but learning about the town might help find the root of all this. Or something."

She stares, waiting for him to continue, and he refuses to meet her eyes as he adds weakly, “And I figured, I might as well learn more about where I came from, who I was supposed to be.”

Ah.

“Caleb.” Not a question. Confirmation.

“... Yeah.”

When Hunter told them what he is, he wasn’t ready. The first week confined to their house, Mrs. Noceda and Luz agreed a tour of the town was a good idea. Then they all saw it. Placed at the center of town, a monument commemorating that tyrant, all of them frozen as carefully scuplted stone loomed over them like a taunt, reminding them there are people who don’t remember Belos as a murderer, a psychopath, a supremacist. It took a minute to register the figure beside him.

Hunter.

Or what might as well be the adult version of Hunter. With the slope of his nose, the sharp jaw—he even had the tuft of hair that refused to stay put.

She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry.

She’d only just realized who she wants to be. She didn’t have much of an identity to begin with anyway. But Hunter’s a perfect counterpart to her; for the longest time, he thought he knew who he was, what he was meant to do. To have that ripped out from under him…

The conversation following was difficult for everyone, but she can’t imagine what Hunter’s been going through since.

Before anxiety gets the best of her, she pipes up, “That’s a good idea.”

He turns to her, “Really?”

“Yeah,” She gently takes the book from him, weighing it in her hands. It’s heavier than she thought. She flips through it, browsing the paragraphs and pictures, “Studying history, going back to your ‘roots’. I’m not much of a history buff, but there’s a lot we can learn from the past.” She hands the book back to him, gesturing to the spread.

He looks down, confused.

On his lap, a lone, black and white image of Caleb Wittebane stares back at him.

"Good and bad."

Silence stretches between them, and she fidgets in her seat as Hunter mulls over her words. Everyone already said what needed to be said last time. She’s not sure what he wants—needs—to hear right now, not yet anyway, but she hopes her words are enough to bring some relief.

And if they aren’t, if he needs more, she’ll do everything in her power to give it to him.

—Comfort, that is!

It–it’s what friends are for.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Hunter says after a pause, though the smile he gives her is halfhearted.

“Here,” His mind blanks as she scoots closer, “Why don’t you tell me what you've read so far? Maybe we can bounce ideas off each other.”

“Y-yeah! Good idea…” Ignoring the burn in his ears, he starts blabbing about how weird human history is. At first, he stutters, his voice cracking at one point, and he wishes the couch would swallow him whole, like the ones back in the Demon realm. Willow only urges him to go on, about oceans that don’t boil and plants that don’t try to kill you. Slowly but surely, he regains his usual confidence, the kind that only comes from a good student, and they find themselves in a deep discussion, mostly Willow asking questions while Hunter flips back and forth between pages, trying to provide as many answers as he can.

"Hey," He pauses mid rant, "Why are you up? I don't think you told me."

She stifles a yawn, "Oh, don't worry about it. Anyway, you were saying about witch hunts?"

But as she fights to keep her eyes open, he gives her a look that makes her want to bury her face into the couch cushions. It's the same look he gives her when he thinks she's not paying attention, like he can see right through her. Not like she's invisible but transparent, as if he can see her everything. Her stomach flutters.

"You know, Captain, I'm no stranger to sleepless nights," She stiffens as he fully turns to her. His eyes gleam in the lamp light, hesitant yet earnest. "Wanna talk about it?”

She sits criss-crossed on the couch. “It's nothing, really.”

“It can't be nothing if it’s bothering you.”

“We've already gone through this.”

“Then run it by me again,” Hunter offers, the book forgotten on his lap.

She thinks it over. How they've slowly begun to trust him completely. And while he wasn't ready at the time, when the truth was forced out of him, he'd given them as much as he could, about the Golden Guards, about grimwalkers, about Philip.

He deserves to have that same honesty and trust returned.

“It's just—” She takes a deep breath, tugging at her hair. “Hard to fall asleep, new, unfamiliar place and all. Don’t get me wrong, Luz and Mrs. Noceda have been so accommodating and wonderful! But…” She trails off as her heart clenches.

“It’s not home,” He finishes for her.

“Yeah,” She clears her throat, “So can I stay up with you for a little bit? If you want to work alone, I can just—hey!” She sputters as Hunter tosses the throw blanket over her. Then a throw pillow. Then another. She raises an eyebrow, lips twitching as she tries not to laugh, “Hunter, what’re you doing?”

He stands, lips pursed as he arranges the blanket over her and fluffs the pillows. "You want to help with my research, right? You think I got these eyebags from only staying up till 2 am?” She gawks at him and he flushes, “Exactly, so buckle up and get comfortable, Captain, because it’s gonna be a long night.” He turns his back to her, and after a rhythmic clinking, he faces her again, his mug outstretched to her.

She stares at it. “Isn’t this yours?”

“It’s fine,” His lips wobble like he’s struggling to maintain a straight face, his face red like it's about to explode.

It’s adorable, enough to convince her to take the mug from him with a quiet “Thank you”.

As he plops down next to her, a pillow and blanket away, thumbing through the book because he lost his place, she brings the mug to her nose, inhaling.

Honey milk.

Hunter’s a really bad liar, she smiles, taking a sip. Her stomach flutters anyway.

She’s right, however, because she only lasts an hour at best, knocking out before she could head back to Luz’s room. And when she wakes up later that morning with Hunter’s chest as her pillow, the morning light gleaming gold against his bed hair as he snores softly, suddenly she can’t breathe.

But she endures.

⏤

“Hey, how’d you sleep?”

“Fine!” Willow squeaks, gripping her newly done pigtails over her face before running off to the kitchen for breakfast.

Hunter scratches his scar, an eyebrow raised. He has a lot to learn about friendship, doesn’t he?

⏤

The next time she gets another mini panic attack, it happens so fast she chokes on her cereal.

“Captain, are you okay!?” Hunter’s at her side in an instant. Not as fast as his magical phasing but it’s close.

“I’m fine,” She coughs, chugging down her glass of juice. Gasping for breath, she wipes her mouth and gapes at him, “C-could you repeat the question?”

His ears turn red as scarred fingers tug at his fingerless gloves. He swallows slowly, “I asked if you would help me run errands today?”

“Oh. That’s what I thought you said.”

For a second, I thought he asked me on a date, She chuckles to herself. He raises an eyebrow. “Of course I’ll help you.”

She shields her eyes as his curious expression morphs into the brightest grin, so wide it almost doesn't fit on his face. “Great! We can leave in an hour.”

With that, Hunter scurries off, leaving her to finish her late breakfast. She raises another spoonful to her lips, humming in delight.

“So, going on a date with Hunter, huh?”

For the second time that morning, she chokes on her cereal. Gus laughs at her as he enters the dining room.

"It is not, and keep your voice down," She sputters as her cheeks flush, lowering her voice, "He might hear you."

He rolls his eyes. "I doubt it. Ya know, because he's so excited for your date," He smirks, whispering "date" as if it's forbidden. "He specifically asked for you. It's a date."

Her blush deepens, "Stop it. It's not—he wouldn't—"

"Okay~" His eyes soften, "Date or not—which it is by the way—just have fun, alright? You've been working hard lately; you deserve to take a break and enjoy the Human realm too."

"Thanks, Gus," She finishes her cereal, moving to the kitchen sink to clean up. "I'm sure I will, but we're just running errands. How much fun can we possibly have?" She asks rhetorically.

Turns out, a lot. They can have a lot of fun.

The funny thing is, they've barely done anything, and Willow's never enjoyed the Human realm like this before.

An hour on the dot, they bundle up, Willow doing a last minute check and asking if they need anything. With Mrs. Noceda at work and Vee at school, she fights to keep a straight face as the rest of the squad exchange suggestive eyes and knowing grins (because of course they got the wrong idea), allowing Hunter to take the lead as they walk into town. One of Mrs. Noceda’s tote bags is slung over his shoulder, stuffed to the brim with books, and she can’t help but laugh as he adjusts the strap with a huff.

("Do you want me to—"

"I got it!")

The trek into town is fairly quiet but not awkward. She never took him for idle chat but as they stroll down the street, Hunter slowing down enough to keep pace with her, he points out the weird yet fascinating human contraptions, putting in more effort to make conversation than usual. He stammers and rambles, but she can't say she minds it, enjoying his voice as she makes her own comments about what little she's seen of Luz’s world.

It's peaceful, and she relishes in the cool, autumn air brushing the pink apples of her cheeks.

But as the day goes on, she wonders, is this a date???

Since the day they met, Hunter—while he can go on tangents—seems like a goal-oriented person, at least that’s her first assumption. It’s further confirmed when Luz showed them the wonders of human realm video games, and (after hours of practicing the controls) during his turn he refused to explore the digital, free-roam world or take side-quests until he completed every main mission. Whatever’s endgame, he’d see it through before anything else. No distractions.

But as they round the corner, instead of making a beeline for the Gravesfield Public Library just down the street like she thought he would, he makes a sharp turn and ushers her into a quaint, little coffee shop, asking what she’d like to try. Too startled to question him, she picks a pretty green colored drink, something called a “mat-cha” latte. Hunter orders himself what he calls “brown bean blood”.

(“Sir, do you mean coffee?”

“No, I said brown bean blood.”)

Once he hands the cashier neatly folded human money (how did he get human money??), they leave with their drinks warming their hands as they amble towards the library.

As soon as he returns the books, he asks her if they can browse. Of course she says yes; she has literally no where else to be, and she figures he needs to find new research material for the week, so they find a table to set their things down. He’s so kind, she thinks, appreciating how he points out a few sections she might enjoy like the decorated rows of YA books. They split off, and she wanders around until she takes his suggestion, pulling books from the YA shelves to glance their synopsis.

At some point in her literary endeavors, she happens upon Hunter in the plant section, flipping through a thick book with an expression she’s only seen when they’re slaving over history books and (stolen) old texts from the Gravesfield Historical Society. His brow is furrowed and lips pursed, as if deep in concentration. He must be because he only notices her once she whispers his name, squeaking as her voice brushes his neck. He fumbles to catch the textbook.

On human realm plants.

Why?

Before she can ask, he slams the book shut, tucking it under his arm and asking if she found anything she wants to check out.

She perks up; she did, holding out a book thicker than her forearm, a hardcover of beautiful human art and design. Based on the summary in the sleeve, it sounds romantic while chock full of adventure. Her favorite.

He guides her to the self-checkout counter, and she giggles as he makes a big show of whisking out a rectangular piece of plastic. Human realm magic, she awes as Hunter scan’s their books, a line of light roaming over the book’s barcode with a small beep. This isn’t his first time at the library. She’s impressed.

Done with the library, they head outside, books tucked away in the bag, but instead of walking back, Hunter steers her to sit at the nearby bus stop, saying he wants to show her something. The bench is cool under her and her half finished matcha latte is lukewarm in her palm now. She doesn’t mind though, waiting for this “bus”. It’s nice just being around Hunter, who buzzes in his seat next to her even after they board the human contraption, his knee jumping with what she assumes to be excitement and anticipation. But as the bus starts, she notices they’re heading away from the Noceda house.

“Ummm, Hunter?” She frowns as the library shrinks in the distance.

He watches the digital clock of the bus. “Yeah?”

“Is this supposed to take us home?”

“What? Oh,” He whirls to her, face burning as he realizes he should have been more specific. “Sorry, the bus isn’t what I wanted to show you. Not that it’s not fascinating—I’ll definitely ask Luz more about it later—but this is a bit further from the library. I promise it’ll worth your while though.”

She gives him a reassuring smile, “Ahhh, I understand.” She doesn’t. As the library disappears into the horizon, the sun high and the sky less cloudier than that morning, her head spins as her mind runs a mile a minute because is this a date????

She sips at her latte, mulling over it. No, it can’t be. Right?

He did specifically ask for her.

Boy’s been sheltered almost his entire life. She’s not sure if he even knows what a date is.

Then again, he bought her a drink and introduced her to human realm fiction.

But this is Hunter, she’s talking about! He wouldn’t be into her, not like that. He’s the former Golden Guard, a prince, a—

“Captain, we’re here.”

Startled, she scrambles to follow as he weaves between the few boarded passengers with a certain level of grace that she could only assume comes from years of military training. They hop off the last step, her boots meeting cobblestone, and she straightens her clothes.

“Tada!” He gestures in front of them, beaming wide enough she can see his tooth gap. A low building stretches not too far up the road, vines snaking up its old marble walls and lovely flower bushes of all kinds lining the cobblestone walkway leading up to the entrance. On display out front, similar to the Historical Society, a simple but polished sign reads—

Gravesfield Botanical Gardens.

“I… Wha—”

“I know you’ve been homesick for a while now so, I asked Luz and Mrs. Noceda if there were any public gardens around and they told me about this place. It was hard to figure out the bus system and scheduling the best time—luckily it’s a weekday so they close late—but I thought this might cheer you up,” Hunter explains, pulling out the plant encyclopedia to show her, “I even studied a bit to try and keep up with you,” he adds with a weak chuckle. His heart hammers in his chest, and he worries it’s about to hop out and flop to the ground if Willow keeps gawking at him. He bites his lip; not in front of his captain.

She blinks as her lips close and part like a fish out of water.

Since they arrived in the human realm, all she thought about was how her dads are—how everyone is really; if Gus’s doing okay, reassuring Luz, supporting Amity and Vee if needed. And when they no longer needed her reassurance, she focused her energy into researching a way to get back home. Outside of studying human realm plants in her spare time, her research skills are abysmal by comparison, but Hunter seemed to appreciate her support nonetheless, letting her (try to) stay up late with him, always her own mug of warm honey milk ready by the time she came down to the living room.

If he noticed her self-avoidance, he said nothing, and a part of her appreciated that.

But more so, rather than making a huge deal out of it, forcing an emotionally charged conversation out of her, he tried to lift her spirits.

She recalls Gus’s talk that morning, ‘Date or not—which it is by the way—just have fun, alright? You've been working hard lately; you deserve to take a break and enjoy the Human realm too.’

You’re wrong, Gus. It’s not a date.

Mistaking her silence, the hopeful glint in his eyes fizzles out and she nearly screams when he deflates, “Sorry. I’m sure it’s nothing compared to your garden back home—oof!” He looks down, blinking as she burrows her face into his shoulder, “Captain?”

“It’s perfect,” She hugs him a little tighter and he grunts. As if trying not to scare away a stray cat, he slowly wraps his arms around her, his hands feather light as he pats her back.

She wants to cry. For a boy who’s been deprived of physical affection most of his life, something so simple and small shouldn’t feel this nice.

Before she sinks into him further, she pulls back and gives him a wobbly smile. “Thank you, I just—” She clears her throat. Get it together, Willow. “I really needed this.”

He nods, dazed and tomato-faced, “O-oh, yeah, of course.”

“Come on,” Her smile stretches into a grin as she loops her arm with his, leading the way. He clutches the book to his chest. “Let’s see how much you’ve learned!”

Yes, he’s the former Golden Guard. Yes, he’s a prince.

But he’s also her friend.

And as she drags him through the gardens, flipping through the textbook between them like a catalog, that is more than enough.

(For now.)

⏤

“So how was your date?”

“Not a date!!”

⏤

The last, most notable time it happens, they’re back in the Demon realm, or at least, what's left of it. If she thought the Human realm was upside down, this place is both upside down and backwards, remnants of the Boiling Isles scattered about like debris. The relief of their return quickly passes.

Now, they have to find The Collector.

And they do.

What was once a home welcoming outcasts and weirdos now stands a twisted rendition of the Owl House. It levitates midair, chunks of its towers and the surrounding land orbiting like planets to a sun, nestled between lightning spitting clouds as water rises from the ground.

With the help of their palismens, it’s easier breaking into the floating fortress than it is navigating within, a labyrinth of moving walls, stairs leading to nowhere, and doors going into places that shouldn't be there. Not to mention beasts birthed from what she thinks are children’s drawings, colorful, disfigured ink creatures worse than any abomination she made when she was in the track. Hunter barely snagged the back of her shirt before she could fall into a pool of paint, and her eyes burned green as she used a barrage of vines to decimate a monster, before it could consume Hunter.

Willow hopes the others are fairing better than them as they leave a trail of vines and scorch marks in their wake.

The idea is to meet at the top of the tower, clustered by squirming wooden Hooties like a rat’s nest, where The Collector most likely is keeping King and Eda. Slowly, they climb the tower floor by floor, slaying doodled beasts while keeping an eye out for the other. The Collector might try to separate them. That's the last thing they want.

They’re in the midst of battle, stuck in a long, dark hallway with seemingly no end as monsters bubble up from the floor like water. In a mess of green vines and gold flashes, they’re not sure what floor they’re on now—they lost count what feels like ages ago—but the walls groan and vibrate harder, louder, and Willow meets Hunter’s eyes, exhausted but hopeful, thinking the same thing.

They’re close.

She struggles to catch her breath. Her muscles ache, her eyes burn, and her heart hurts. Her magic is draining quick, and at the rate they’re going she’s not sure if she’ll have any left by the time they reach the top.

If they get to the top, a small, darker part of her hisses.

She shakes her head. They have to. For King. For Eda. For everyone.

Once again, with a wave of her hands she conjures two fist-sized spell circles, trying to conserve what little magic she has left. She feels the seeds buried within the walls and the floorboards, old but ripe for the picking.

Another monster lunges for her, and she does what she does best. Thin but thorny vines burst from below.

It’s as she turns another beast to puddles when she glances back at Hunter. And at the monster coming up from behind, unhinging its jaw to the floor, ready to swallow him whole.

Up until this point, Hunter’s held his own, masterfully spinning Flapjack’s staff in his hands as they plowed through monster after monster. But he’s breathing hard, his skin gleaning with sweat. There’s even blood dripping from a gash on his shoulder, probably from losing speed. He’s slowing down. Phasing must’ve took a lot of him if he’s resorted to other, more common forms of magic.

Which is how she knows he won’t dodge in time.

Her feet move faster than her mouth as she shouts his name. He meets her eyes for a split second before looking up, too late as the roof of the monster’s mouth looms over him.

Gritting her teeth, she casts a spell circle as wide as the narrow corridor, using as much magic as she can in the seconds it takes for her to barrel into Hunter’s side. Wood splinters, thick vines shoot through the cracks, and her vision grows dark as they clasp under and around them like a fist.

A beat of silence.

Then a sickening squelch and splash, and after a moment, the vines—fatal and thorny and dripping with monster goop—unfurl. Hunter squints as his eyes adjust to the light. “What—?”

She groans.

“Captain,” Hunter gasps, scrambling to his knees as he gently rests her head in his lap.

“I’m fine. Just-just give me minute,” She pants, sweat beading her forehead. She opens her eyes, wanting to reassure him, only to hiss and press her face into his stomach at the bright light.

Hunter grimaces, glancing at Willow, to the puddles of monster goo scattered on the floor and walls, and to the exit door as her breathes come ragged. He’s got that expression, she realizes, peaking up at his side profile. His brow is furrowed, and his scar shifts as his jaw clenches. She can practically see the dozens of calculations running through his mind.

As she opens her mouth, ready as she’ll ever be, he gathers her in his arms.

She blinks, “Hunter, what’re you—” She squeaks as she’s easily lifted off the floor, her face bright red.

Before she can wallow in her embarrassment, he's already kneeling down, careful as he rests her against the least messiest wall. “Stay here.”

She jerks back. “What?”

“You’re staying here. I’ll go ahead without you,” He grinds out, expression pained like it physically hurts.

“No, you’re not. I can still fight.”

“You’re almost out of magic.”

“You’re not fairing any better—”

“Willow.”

She looks at him incredulously, and he gazes back. The dark circles under his eyes improved immensely while they were in the Human realm, but in the short time they’ve been in the Demon realm, they’ve returned with a vengeance.

“I don’t get it. Why–wha–” She stutters, hurt and confused, unsure of what to ask. How to argue.

His mouth parts and closes as tired eyes shift from one place to another, like he’s trying to find an answer in the woodwork. He lets out a shaky breath, “If this fight is going the way I think it’s going, I’d rather The Collector kill me than you. Any of you.”

Before she can interrupt, he shakes his head. “And no, this has nothing to do with an identity crisis or whatever—I’ve come to terms with who I was and who I am now—this is just facts…” He meets her eyes, and she’s taken aback as they gleam with conviction.

Down the hall, the door leading to the next room thrums awake.

As if it’s their last, he hugs her, his chin resting on her shoulder as arms wrap around her, gentle and firm. It’s the best hug he’s ever given her.

“They can make another me, but they can’t make another you.”

Her breath hitches.

“Willow, if this is the last time we see each other, I just want you to know,“ He pulls back, not noticing the way his words knock the wind out of her. Exhausted as he is, his eyes crinkle as he smiles, wide enough to show off his tooth gap. “It was an honor to be in your life.”

Just like that, he stands, turning his back to her. Her mind freezes as she hears the clack of his boots grow distant as if in slow motion.

How—how dare he! She wants to scream, cry, throw a tantrum—maybe that’ll stop him—but her body refuses to move, her head a jumble of thoughts as anger and sorrow rises within her all at once.

He can’t bench me! Who does he think he is?

I’m in no condition to fight.

She thinks about every time she was ready to throw down, he was there. He had her back no matter to circumstances. Now, as her shoulders slump in defeat, watching Hunter come to a halt, eyeing the glowing door suspiciously, she can’t even follow after him.

An “honor”? What a joke. More like disgrace.

Her head aches as every memory runs through her mind like a film reel on fast-forward, remembering how much she’s learned to lean on him. How much she’s learned about him. From his little quirks to his odd hobbies. He’s considerate, intuitive, and passionate about learning.

He gazed steadily, as if he truly believed his words.

'They can make another me.’

Her throat closes. She swallows.

Another him?

“No!” Before he can grab the doorknob, with a strangled cry, her eyes burn as she conjures a small spell circle, using up the last of her magic to summon.

A vine grapples him to the floor and he grunts, turning on his back. Willow looms over him, green eyes aglow, tears welling like dewdrops as she falls to her knees beside him. “I don’t care that you’re a-a copy. I don’t care who you were made after. I care about you,” Her eyes dim, though they don’t lose their shine as she sobs, voice cracking, “So don’t ever say that. Don’t you ever say that because you’re wrong.”

Hunter blinks up at her, taken aback; in the brief months he’s known her, she’s never raised her voice at him. Not like this.

“There can never be another you. And if there was, I wouldn’t want another one.”

She misses the look Hunter gives her as she weeps and hiccups, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, no longer holding back the tears. They trail down her cheeks, drip down her chin, and her nose is getting stuffed. She's too drained to care.

She hears Hunter shift as he sits up. When she opens her eyes, he’s tugging off his gloves—scuffed and worn from battle, stained with the goo of their enemies—only for him to reach out and wipe her tear-stained cheeks with scarred, calloused hands. She lets him.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” He reassures her, his voice thick and raspy. He doesn’t even have the sense to feel embarrassed of the intimacy behind the action. His captain’s crying. He just wants to make her feel better.

She sniffles, giving him a pointed look through the tears, “Don’t apologize. Just promise you’ll never say anything like that again.”

“Okay, I promise,” He nods hurriedly, a little scared.

A little more in love.

In front of them, the door glows, pulsating with a magic that makes the hair on her neck stand on end, and once they recover, side by side they step forward as Hunter pushes the door open.

⏤

“Are you ready?”

“I’m right behind you.”

⏤

Willow’s not sick. Unless you count lovesickness as an illness.

(The human version. Not the Demon realm’s lovesickness. Because that would be a bad thing.)

But there's still work to be done, so she sets it aside.

Until now.

Months after teaching the child god a lesson, most of the Demon realm goes back to their daily lives, witches and demons going back to work, school resuming its normal schedule. Even students are relieved to be back in class as life goes back to normal.

Except for the coven system.

It’s undergone huge changes with the help of the new council, consisting of some of the previous coven heads like Raine and Darius.

And Hunter, she smiles, cheeks warming.

He’s been busy lately, going to school with them during the day, all the while taking part in council meetings as an unofficial member. Proposing new laws, rewriting old ones, advocating for “wild” magic, a term that eventually loses its meaning. Darius complains he doesn’t need “Little Prince” backseat-delegating for him.

“I know it’s not my fault, but the least I can do is try,” he told her once, still feeling somewhat responsible for the mess Belos left behind. He intends to fix the monster’s mistakes one by one, and he has.

It’s slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

With so much going on in everyone’s lives, they haven’t seen each other outside of school and flyer derby practice to her dismay. But for the first time in what feels like forever they’ll be hanging out together as a squad, somewhere that’s not on school grounds or video-chatting. She's excited. She should be excited.

So why is she sweating bullets?

With pursed lips, she smooths out the white skirt of her dress. She’s the first to arrive, her boots clacking against the cobblestone bridge connecting the outer and inner rings of Bonesburough—a halfway point between where everyone lives—the clear water below calm with no bubbles in sight. Around this time of year, the waters within the city limits cool enough to a comfortable, lukewarm temperature, allowing the rare winter flora to bloom.

She can’t explain it, but she thinks winter’s her new favorite season.

Minutes pass, and she perks up every time a figure draws near, only to deflate when she sees another stranger pass by. She frowns; she’s not that early, is she…

As she’s about to check the time on her scroll, it pings several times at once and she pulls up the message notification. All from Amity, Gus, and Luz, all the same variation of:

Hey—

Something came up—

Sorry, can’t make it—

Disheartening as it is, plans fall through, so she’s not too broken up about it, but her eyes bug out of her head when she reads:

Good luck ;)

She blinks once, twice. If they’re not coming, that means…

“Hey!” With a small “eek!”, she spins on her heel as Hunter bends over, his tooth gap whistling as he tries to catch his breath. He offers her a small smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Oh, it’s fine. It’s only been a few minutes,” She waves him off.

He sighs in relief, glancing around, “Great, so—um—where’s the others?”

“Apparently, Matt needed Gus for an emergency, and Luz and Amity had to go see Mrs. Noceda for something,” she explains as her scroll dissipates. She tugs at the cuff of her sleeve. “But they said to have fun without them.”

“Oh, okay,” He bites his lip, withholding his excitement. He motions towards the inner city, and with a polite tone, “After you, Captain.”

She giggles, thanking him as they head to the shopping district.

They don’t have a plan as they keep in step with each other. Conversation ebbs and flows like water; sometimes they’re enjoying each other's presence, other times they're loudly debating on flyer derby strategies or the color beige. They talk about anything, really, about important updates in their lives to stupid small things like Flapjack making a nest out of Hunter’s old notes.

They find themselves in the market district at some point, and Hunter offers to pay when they stop at an iscream stall. She refuses, he insists, and contrary to the cool, shrieking dessert she bites the head off of, it's a warm reminder of the day he took her to the Gravesfield Botanical Gardens, the first of their many hangouts. Slow to finish her latte then. Slow to finish her iscream now.

Time passes quick, and before she realizes, they’ve come full circle back to the meet up spot as they sit on the short, stone walls of the bridge, finishing off their cups.

“This was nice,” She says before taking another scoop. The iscream has since stopped its tortured cries.

“Yeah, I missed hanging out with you,” Hunter tenses, tips of his ears pink as if they’ll blow off, “—guys! You guys. Too bad they couldn’t come. Not that I don’t enjoy being alone with you! You’re—um—”

“Thanks, Hunter.”

“You’re welcome, Captain.”

They settle into a comfortable silence as they enjoy their snack, but as Willow continues, she can feel Hunter glancing at her every ten seconds, his knee jumping.

She sighs, “Hunter?”

“Y-yes?”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No? What makes you think that?”

“You’re staring. And your iscream’s melted.”

He looks at the paper cup, “Oh…”

She sets her cup beside her. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know! I know,” His eyes soften at her, and she wants to shout, yell that she'd literally give her eyes and ears if he asked. “It’s just—there’s something I need to tell you.”

She turns her attention to him. “Okay…”

Taking a deep breath, he starts, “You know I’ve been busy with the council and fixing the coven system and going to school,” She nods, “Darius has been talking about traveling to other islands, and I've never been outside the Boiling Isles so…" He trails off, scratching his scar. "He offered to take me with him."

Her heart stops. "Oh."

"Yeah," His brow scrunches at her lack of response.

"I mean oooh! That-that's great!" Shaking her stupor, she tries to smile, "Is it just for fun or…?"

"Sort of. We'll be acting as some sort of ambassadors, studying other kingdoms and republics and sending reports back to Raine and the others. Not much different from what we've been doing now to be honest, but Darius says there's a lot we can learn from them."

“Cool, cool.” Not cool. Not cool at all!! In her head, she screaming, rolling on the floor in a panic. “So when do you leave?”

He thinks about it, “Once I finish this semester, but that’s if I—”

“What?” Her heart picks up speed, her voice rising as she argues, “He can't wait till you finish the school year? Or maybe even after graduation?”

He shrugs, her panic flying over his head. “I’ve had private tutors for most of my life. Technically, I don’t need school.”

She sputters, “But what about the Entrails? What am I supposed to do without my best flyer?”

“You guys were fine without me before—”

“That’s not the point!” Hunter’s brow shoots up as she stands, “What about your friends and family? You just made friends your own age and your family’s here: the team, Gus and Amity, Luz and Eda—”

“Well, yeah—”

“And me!”

His ears perk up. Heat crawls up her neck and across her face, and realizing what she's doing, she sits back down with a groan, "I'm sorry, this isn't how I wanted to do this. I shouldn't be trying to change your mind."

"I just really like you," She babbles without thinking, her face completely on fire now as stares at the ground, unable to look at him, “And it's hard to imagine my life without you, but if that’s what you really want then you have my full support—”

“Wait, say that again.”

She picks her head up, just wanting to curl up in bed. “You have my full support?”

“No, the other thing,” Hunter shakes his head, his forelock swishing.

“It’s hard to imagine my life without you?”

“No, before that.”

Her cheeks puff up and she’s blushing all over again. “I really like you?”

Her dress wrinkles in her fists as she squirms under his gaze. He’s so close, his eyes—more pink than wine as the sun begins to set—blinking owlishly. She’s not sure if he’s breathing, to be frank. And just when she thinks he’s about to reject her—

“I’m not going.”

She tilts her head as if she heard him wrong. “Huh?”

“I never accepted the offer,” He says. “I’ve got a pretty good thing going here. Be a shame to just leave all that now.

“…Right.”

“Eda and Raine would miss me around the house. Can’t have Luz and King turning my room into a play room either.”

“Of course, of course.”

“And I definitely can’t leave the Emerald Entrails. How else are we supposed to get to nationals, right?”

She snorts, “Okay, now hold on—”

“I still have to tell the captain how I feel too,” She pauses, and his red face reflects her own. “Also I’m pretty sure she’d drag me underground if I tried to leave.”

He gives her a loopy grin as she guffaws.

“So, I’m not leaving any time soon,” he finishes.

Once her laughter dies down, she looks at him, uncertain. “And you’re not just saying that because I confessed to you?”

“I made my decision long before this conversation. You just happen to beat me to the punch,” He pouts.

“Don’t worry, we’ll work on your timing later,” she teases as she nudges him with her shoulder.

He shoves her back, their shoulders brushing as they smile shyly at one another. She’s not sure who moves first, but they lean forward, eyes closing and lips parting. Heart doing jumping jacks, she can feel the warm puff of his breath against her lips just as they—

“Omg finally!”

They jump back, and before either can register the joyous shrieks of their friends, they tip back and yelp, arms waving frantically.

And crash into river below.

But it’s okay, Willow thinks, her dress bellowing in the water like a blooming flower. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust.

The collar of Hunter’s white shirt unfolds as he hovers in front of her. He meets her gaze, and an air bubble escapes his tooth gap as he smiles at her.

Laughing, cupping a hand over her mouth before she loses any more air, bubbles floating around them like underwater stars, she doesn’t mind how he takes her breath away.

Because Hunter’s there to give it back.

#huntlow #winter toh #hunter x willow park #hunter wittebane x willow park #hunter clawthorne x willow park #hunter toh #hunter the owl house #toh hunter #the owl house hunter #willow park #willow park toh #willow park the owl house #the owl house willow park #toh willow park #this first time ive written anything in months and its the longest oneshot ive ever done AND for my new otp?? whoops :p #had a vivid image of hunter being a self-sacrificing little shit after Hollow Mind and this popped out #also i noticed an autistic hunter tag on ao3 and idk if thats based on canon or not BUT #i like to imagine if his hands arent terribly scarred he wears gloves bc he has a thing with textures or maybe hypersensitive to touch #bc ik i do and i. must project onto my comfort character :D #this is my first time writing for huntlow hopefully theyre not ooc

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jitteryjive · 1 year

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are sure you don’t want to give up on me? / you’re a moron!

#this is the longest alt text ive ever written holy shit #GODDD THIS IS THE MOST JULIUS SONG EVER #the denial. the projection. the fucking. BECAUSE YOU— WHAT??? part is so him #i love you julius and i love you your stupid face song #also this was good dimple practice he’s so cute #crime express spoilers #my art #oc stuff #artwork #julius cuccumb #mason margarine #tulip delacroix #margacroixcumb #<- sure. as a treat ^_^#inspired by music

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godheadjones · 1 year

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Three Times Tabitha Tate Went on a Fake Date (And One Time She Went on a Real One)

She pats his hand, just slightly, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, as Jughead raises his eyebrows at her. Another moment passes, the jukebox playing softly. “Sounds great, Tabitha. Get ready for my Jones charm.”

“You mean for me to be completely repulsed by it?” she jokes. “We’ve been friends for some time now. I’m pretty sure I’m immune to anything you could possibly bring to the table.”

She’s lying, of course, but not that Jughead’s aware. He only itches the space between his lips and his nose, with a teasing smirk plastered on his face. “That is an absolutely brutal way to turn a guy down, Tabs.”

---

read on ao3

fandom: riverdale

ship: jughead x tabitha (jabitha)

taglist: @jabithajates @jabitha-endgame @sapphicserpentqueen @imreallytryinghelp (ask to be added or removed)

#layla writes #tabitha tate #jughead jones #jabitha #jabitha fic #this is probably my fav fic that ive written so far for jabitha #its so tropey but oh holy shit. its funny (to me) its got banter and fake dating and !! its for valentines day!!#anyway if you havent read any of my jabitha fics (or you;ve read all of them) read this one!!#its a bit long heads up the main plot i had in mind doesnt start until around 2000 words #also yes it is a [blank number] + 1 fic!! im giving jabitha this because they havent gotten it yet so ill be the first #jabithacentral #this is my longest 1 chapter ever and it took me forever to write. also barely any filler. pls read i slaved over this #a little late for valetines and thats all on my stupid writers block and bad time managment but happy belated valentines

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shoheiakagi · 10 months

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ohh anon, i had to screenshot your ask just so this post wont pop up when anyone searches the mentioned characters lolll. gonna put my thoughts under the cut and just a fyi im gonna be censoring the names here

send me your unpopular opinions

okay but i 100% agree with you. idk how you feel about him, but fus/himi is my least favorite character in this entire franchise (and this is coming from someone who usually loves dark haired assholes). He is one of the few characters i actually have a few things in common with (i.e. fucked up family dynamics, introvert who has trouble opening up to ppl, struggle in group settings, etc.), but im always ranging from strongly disliking or being neutral to him at best.

i think what i really cant stand about his character is that he is extremely woobified (by fans and within the show itself), and gets away with a lot of shit. like i love complicated and fucked up characters as much as the next guy, but shit man, i get why those stan twitter girlies pull the whole “but if this was a woman” card cause I seriously dont believe he would be as popular if he was a female character. fans would hate on him being a cold hearted bitch who’s obsessed with ya/ta and all that bullshit

and honestly take this part with a grain of salt cause my memory is shitty (and i literally rewatch bits of the anime to see the abc boys), but didnt he say some offensive comments about mik/oto and tot/suka’s death to troll ya/ta? like at ep 1 of s2? if he didnt, then ignore me. if he did, then idc idc theres nothing you can tell me that can justify that crap. i also hate how he’s an asshole to most, if not all, characters but yet everyones all like weirdly obsessed with him and shrugs it off and just adores him?? and that they somehow get that he’s actually this softie who doesnt mean it and went through sooo much even tho they dont know shit about him?? again, if this was a female character

ngl i think s1 having him being a borderline creep is what made me dislike him lol. like if he was like how he was portrayed in most of s2, then i think i’d be a little more neutral towards him. and this is unrelated, but i dont think hes hot at all and looks like a fish (but he did look good in dob. everyone looks good in mor/dob)

tl;dr I strongly agree with your opinion and think that fush/imi was forgiven too easily

#oh anon you open a can of worms i thought no longer existed lol #but yea maybe its bc im on my period but im super passionate today #and i think this is the longest ive ever written about how i feel about he who shall not be named #i think he’s popular cause a lot of ppl project into him #no shame to that cause im literally a y/n for a minor character #but shit man hes just a glorified canon gary stu #cant believe i actually used that term tho #ugh i noticed a typo in the first tag #i hate how you cant edit tags #but yea the way i would roll my eyes when i would see him bunched in a lot of hmr content #like not even the pre s1 hmr cause that makes sense since he was part of the group then #im talking about mor/current hmr #like no keep him in s4 #ask #anonymous #anon

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orcelito · 11 months

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LKJDFLKSDJFSLD

HOW DID IT BECOME 9.2K WORDS....................

#speculation nation #itnl shit #FOR PPL WHO DONT WRITE FANFIC & CONCEPTUALIZE BY PAGES BETTER THAN WORD COUNT #23 PAGES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that is how much i have written #i mean no it is not NEARLY the most ive done #Sol was. sol was something. oh god was it something.#that was like nearly 3 times this length lmfao. still the longest single fanfic chapter ive ever done #anyways. ive gotten used to the short chapters so im just like. God Damn #aka why im pulling out the serious editing music so i dont stay up all night for this lksdjflsdjfksldjf

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milkovski · 2 years

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MICKEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY 😭😭😭😭🤕🤕🤕🤕💗💗💗💗😭😭😭💕💕💕💕

#another intelligent thoughtful insightful post from Me #i did in fact just write like 600 words of sad mickey so im thinking about him and wailing and throwing myself against the walls about him #and whatnot #this 'write without thinking and not caring that each sentence is a masterpiece' shit straight up works #we have hit 10k 👍#i think this is actually the longest thing ive ever written now #for school i never had to write a .. thesis (???) idk what that is and i know people (?) have to write one to get their degree ...?#i didnt have to do that ...?#i also have never written a research paper despite doing research lol #for work i have to write documents but i doubt that any one of them is over 10k by itself #wait jk i just checked my ff dot net account and i have a wip from 2010 thats 19k #wow 2010 me how the fuck #this is a feat im no longer capable of #10 chapters #just looked at the first chapter and am kind of shocked that i didnt understand commas #its quite terrible #2010 me you little idiot (fond)#me clicking post with my overly bejeweled manicured hand a la that g/wen s/tefani (...?) gif #edit i searched it up its c/hristina a/guilera

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atthebell-moved · 2 years

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new chapter of a heart's a heavy burden!!!

chapter 7 is out folks! sorry for my four month long hiatus on this fic i was um finishing grad school (and starting four new wips ahaha) but we're back!

a heart's a heavy burden is my crimeboys/sbi howl's moving castle au with lots of soft magic, domestic fluff, and fun goofy vibes + magic plot stuff

this chapter's summary:

He catches his breath after a moment and hides under the gaze of his friends. What can he even say? “I had a nightmare, guys, don’t worry, just horrifically traumatized by everything I’ve been through! Wanna play tag?” He gets up the courage to glance up at Techno, looking into scarlet eyes that he never thought he’d find comforting, and then he glances up at the sky for a moment and his heart freezes in his chest. He sees a crow soaring overhead, in tight, rapid circles, and for a moment his heart is in his throat and the magic down his spine sharpens and his voice cuts out after letting out a gasp. By the time Techno glances over his own shoulder to where he'd been staring, the crow is gone, but Techno’s eyes tighten and his other hand squeezes Tommy’s shoulder. “Let’s go have lunch, why don’t we?” Wilbur suggests. His voice is tense.

#also btw this is like. by far the longest fic ive ever posted or consistently worked on #ive never really posted fics for a fandom before so its really cool to have this much inspo and be able to get shit written #anyway #my writing #bell.doc #sbi fic #dsmp fic #idk what tags to use ever do people actually browse these IDK IDK

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catmaidetho · 2 years

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today on "crow gets distracted by another writing project idea" we have: something inspired by this

#khaos.txt #inspiration #ok. i dont WANT to make it a multichapter but it might be #hopefully not tho #maybe just like. a 20k oneshot. thats reasonable right?#the longest oneshot ive ever written is about 7k iirc. so this would be setting the bar High #i mean we'll see how it goes?#but RUBBING MY HANDS TOGETHER. i wanna write grian being an absolute asshole #a real piece of shit who obviously does not belong where he has ended up #hehehehee

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hanniejji · 2 years

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i am slowly fearing the phoenix fic, i think it's time i knock myself out to sleep oh my god

#it's getting a lil too chonky at 3k #and im barely halfway the plotline #i shouldn't have brainrotted too much while writing the rough draft holy shit #also im literally word vomiting the narratives on this one #this may be my longer fic ever #ive never written anything pass 3k oh my god #I SUDDENLY REMEMBERED THE M.A.PLE FIC IN THE DRAFTS #WHICH ALSO HAS MULTIPLE ACTS #AND I'M INCREDIBLY TALKATIVE IF ITS A ZUHA FIC #i am concerned #in another episode of: sprouttsse writing shit #longest oh my god that typo kinda hurts my heart

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stevie-petey · 7 months

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episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them.

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways.

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good.

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds.

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her.

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit.

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.”

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her.

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence.

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation.

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed.

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.”

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure.

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.”

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts.

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.”

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her.

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow.

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.”

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touche.”

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside.

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open.

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot.

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does.

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end.

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.”

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know.

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow.

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you.

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan.

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him.

—

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in.

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity.

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing.

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will.

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down.

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.”

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are.

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation.

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it.

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up.

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.”

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.”

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities.

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.”

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her.

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay.

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions.

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks.

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes.

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?”

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours.

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.”

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred.

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off.

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare.

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him.

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world.

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house.

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief.

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.”

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you.

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.”

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you.

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over).

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made.

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam.

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.”

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.”

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone.

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you.

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit.

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.”

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.”

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then.

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding.

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.”

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.”

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions.

Just peachy.

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well.

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.”

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices.

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…”

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys.

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone.

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole.

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him.

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks.

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.”

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh.

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him.

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now.

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty.

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation.

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused.

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.”

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen.

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.”

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns.

“Sorry.”

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.”

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?”

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.”

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son.

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class.

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that.

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor.

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will.

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.”

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.”

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either.

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind.

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out.

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door.

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.”

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now.

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?”

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed.

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl.

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down.

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive.

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?”

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose.

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you.

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess.

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay.

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying.

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.”

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once.

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks.

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up.

You all face her now. “You can?”

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide.

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table.

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face.

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?”

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that.

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.”

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool.

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down.

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given.

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El.

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head.

“Will is hiding?”

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

–

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions.

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find.

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet…

You fear he’s done something stupid.

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you.

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused.

“Mrs. Byers-”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you.

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.”

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her.

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.”

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her.

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonthan’s room.

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you.

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised.

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal.

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.”

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!”

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.”

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!”

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days.

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.”

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance.

–

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight.

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes.

You’ve never felt so alone before.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #the thought of steve just taking will's missing poster and then being like oh shit was so funny to me i had to add it #also sad ending #sorry #but also not

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sokkadora · 5 months

Text

vanishing grace — mizu x fem!spider!reader

summary: breaking into to fowler’s castle wasn’t as easy as you’d originally thought, neither was the idea of being able to come out unscathed.

a/n: girl help! i cannot stop drawing my spidersona with mizu!!! also i think this is the longest fic ive ever written for a oneshot 💀 also this is not proofread so if there are mistakes forgive me 😭

wc: 3.9k

warning(s): guns, gunshot wound, being stabbed, slight angst if you squint, FOWLERS HEADASS, mizu being sad

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

You followed silently behind Mizu as she carefully counted the paces to the far entrance to Fowler’s Castle, making sure to place your feet in the dents in the snow where her feet had stepped.

The silence surrounding you two since everything that happened at Madame Kaji’s was tense. You were upset with her. Of course you were. She let Akemi get taken back into captivity and Ringo had left because of her actions.

You could understand where she was coming from, in a way. You can’t save everyone. It’s a hard truth you’d learned in your years as Spider-Woman, but you can’t help but feel like you could’ve done something.

Right before your face could make contact with Mizu’s back, your steps abruptly stopped thanks to your sixth sense. She used her naginata to brush the snow off the covered grate in the ground.

Mizu silently handed you your mask after slicing it open, and you took it from her hand softly. Could she tell you were upset with her? And if she could, did she even care? You shook it off, tugging on your mask.

She dropped down into the tunnel, water splashing beneath her feet softly upon impact. She glanced around quickly before turning back to you, holding up her arms to help you down.

You let her, trying to get ahold of yourself as her hands gripped your waist and gently set you down before she closed the grate with her weapon.

The tunnel darkened significantly and Mizu made a sudden move to keep your hand in hers as you made your way further in. She eventually found a dry enough piece of wood, wrapping a cloth around the top, lighting the cloth on fire to make a torch.

There was loud squeaking coming from your feet, and the two of you looked down to find around 5 rats staring up at you. Mizu killed one, and the rest scattered.

The two of you continued until you came across dozens of skeletons, children’s skeletons, and that was the only other pause you took in the tunnels.

“Oh my god,” You whispered, placing a hand over your mouth at the sight of a woman’s skeleton with her arms wrapped around the child’s far smaller one. You gripped Mizu’s hand tighter as she seethed, dragging you down through the tunnels.

She stopped just before the two of you could run into a door, and let go of your hand. She tried opening it with no luck. Then she leaned her weapon against the doorframe to take off her pack. She handed you the torch, and you glanced around the tunnel nervously.

“What’s the plan, Mizu?” You asked, your hands beginning to shake. Was it fear? Adrenaline? You didn’t know. But every fiber of your body was screaming at you like this was a bad idea, and you couldn’t help but agree.

“Don’t really have one,” She shrugged, picking up her lock picking equipment and kneeling in front of the lock. Your heart pounded at her dry and casual admission that she didn’t have a plan to get through this death house, but you took a deep breath to compose yourself. It was already tense enough. “You’re kind of my secret weapon if everything goes to shit.”

“We should’ve talked about this on the way here,” You grumbled as the lock finally clicked. You took it as good news for a moment before the tunnels behind you began rumbling.

They burst full with water, and you pushed the torch back into her hands. You rushed to the door handle, and began to yank on it with all your strength. It was heavy. You could easily throw a shipping container, and this was hard and rusted for you to open.

It squeezed open a crack, but it was too late. Mizu and you were quickly knocked out as the rushing water slammed you both against the door harshly, and everything went black.

You recovered a bit quicker than Mizu did, but quickly swam back over to the door to continue your work while praying that you wouldn’t drown. It already felt as if your mask was waterboarding you, even though you chose that fabric that wouldn’t do that when you made it (if you got back home to your time, you were contacting the seller). You broke the lock after a brief moment of suffocation, pulling the door open and pushing Mizu through before following after her.

There was finally a place for you both to surface, right under a grate in what you guessed was a supply room. The both of you hacked water out your lungs, catching your breath.

You pushed the grate off, pulling yourself up with aching limbs before holding out your hand and pulling Mizu up with ease. The two of you panted for another minute before she turned to you, her usually cold, narrow eyes more round and almost puppy like.

“You okay?” She asked softly as you tugged off your mask and rung it out.

“Besides being practically waterboarded in this mask?” You coughed up some more water, and she patted your back. “Just peachy.”

She didn’t respond, opting to take off her roll and check what supplies she’d lost in the process of the water slammed into her. She’d lost a lot, still panting before she wiped the water off her face with the back of her hand. She rolled her pack back up and helped you to your feet.

Making your way up the floors of the castle proved to be more physically taxing than you’d originally expected. Although, Mizu could firmly admit now that she was jealous of your acrobatic skills after you flipped and dodged through the corridor after getting stabbed through the ankle at the last second.

Finally, the dust from that flower had worn off for you and you heard grunting coming from a cell farther back in the dungeon. You quickly made your way over with Mizu behind you, gasping at the sight of Taigen. He was beaten to a pulp, a heavily swollen eye, and skin pale. The most frail you’ve ever seen him.

You stayed on your feet to keep watch as Mizu kneeled down to check on him.

“Taigen.” She sighed in relief, a small smile on her face.

He grunts, bringing his hand up to brush against the wrapping on her neck. “That's...” He groans, “That's my scarf.”

“Are you real?”She asks quietly, and he raises a brow to the best of his ability.

“I think so.”

You kneel on the other side of Taigen, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Can you walk?” Taigen grunts as you help him sit up.

“Might be slow.”He grumbles, allowing you to sling his arm around your shoulders and haul him up. He was far lighter than the last time you’d seen him after leaving him in the forest, and the hero part of you couldn’t help but worry.

“Better than you being dead,” You huffed, shaking your head at Mizu when she tried to help. She had to focus. You could handle taking care of Taigen.

You help him hobble out of the cell, turning left to follow Mizu further down the corridor to the next door and flight of stairs.

The large man that had sought Mizu out for Heiji Shindo was looming in before the door at the other end of the hall at the top of the stairs, and you could only sit with Taigen and watch as she fought the man. You webbed up Taigen’s wounds as some form of pressure as Mizu launched herself back after stabbed the explosive into the man’s neck.

She landed a few feet away from you before the explosive activated, killing the man and knocking all of you out.

When you came to, you were acutely aware of the fact you were slowly sliding off the remaining rubble hanging over the edge of where a wall once was.

Coughing, you propped yourself up on your elbow as Mizu began to stir awake and took in your new surroundings. A sharp pain on the left side of your torso hit you, and you hissed in pain before looking down to see a large scrape that managed to tear some of your suit.

You attention quickly turned to your right when a groan rang out, you turned your head to see Taigen slowly falling off the ledge.

Before you could lunge for him yourself, she grabbed his wrist and slid off with him, not having the strength to keep them both on the ground.

“Mizu!” You shouted, more than ready to dive off the side to catch both of them. When you peered over the ledge, you almost let out a sob from the relief at the sight of Mizu dangling from her sword that was stabbed into the side of the building, holding Taigen in her other hand before pulling him onto her back.

You rolled off the ledge, crawling down the wall to them as Mizu gained her footing and gripped onto the crevices in the stone and yanked her sword out.

“Give me your hand,” She seemed reluctant, not wanting to put more physical stress onto you. Your eyes seemed rounded, almost puppy like as you asked again. “Please, Mizu. I can carry the both of you.”

She reluctantly placed her tired hand into your own, surprised by your strength as you easily lifted both of them onto your back the same way Mizu had done to Taigen. You gingerly took her sword, biting the dull end to hold it in your mouth, almost snarling as you scaled up the side of the castle.

Mizu watched in admiration, and almost adoringly at how tenacious and adamant you were. You were easily scaling the building with two bodies dangling from your shoulders, and you were doing all of it just to help her. No one had ever been there for her the way you have (besides sword father), in just a few months as well.

You had found a small, wider ledge to pull yourself onto. You placed your elbow on the ledge and pulled yourself up, panting softly as you gazed in through the window. A small army of guards was grouped behind a door, waiting for the three of you, you guessed. Your spider sense rang in your ears and you grunted, turning your head back to Mizu.

“Hold on,” You grunted, shooting a hand out to spray a web to the top of the window. You yanked yourself up the web, internally thinking about how easily you did this back home. But you made it over the window just as a guard looked back, seeming to have heard you, but not seeing anything.

After finally reaching the room that Fowler resided in, the both of you watched from below a window as one of the lords stood in front of it. Mizu gingerly removed her sword from her mouth, raising her arm to throw it.

“After he starts to drop, throw Taigen in.” She rasped in your ear, and you nodded, not being able to stop the goosebumps that quickly covered your body from the warm breath on your neck.

It all happened quicker than you could really comprehend; Mizu stabbing the lord, throwing Taigen into the room, and launching her from your shoulders into the room. You followed after quickly, the sight of your spider-suit earning strange glares from the lords.

“Abijah Fowler!” Mizu shouted, holding her sword out and ready. “Where is he?” She wandered over to the table with you right behind her, gazing down at a sheet of paper with what seemed to be a war plan and a map of Edo.

Mizu quickly turned as one of the lords struck his sword at her, backing up into you to make sure you weren’t hit. When she struck back, the dull edge of her blade resting against the fat of his neck before lifting her leg up and kicking him back. He landed on the wooden floor with a harsh thud, making you wince.

The click of a gun cocking and the trigger being pulled registered in your head before she could notice it.

You launched yourself over the table at the much larger body; Fowler. Shooting a web on either side of him, you yanked yourself at him as he fired. You let out a shout as your foot made solid contact with his cheek, knocking him back as Mizu’s blade broke, the bullet tearing through her shoulder.

You scrambled onto your feet to sprint back to Mizu as Fowler lifted his head, rubbing his jaw with an unnerving smile.

“Now, what are you?”

Mizu whimpered as she held the shoulder where the bullet entered before looking at her broken blade mournfully. You quickly moved her hands, checking the other side of her shoulder to see if the bullet went through; you really didn’t want to dig one out of her. Thankfully it did, and you quickly webbed up the injury as Abijah stood, grabbed a brush to shove down the barrel of his gun.

“You see?” He states to Heiji, using his gun to push the man’s sword down as they watched you and Mizu. “No one murders so well as the British. It’s our number one export.”

Mizu growled at the man before lunging at him with her broken blade, but he quickly raises his gun and wacks her back, throwing her into the wall. Your breath hitched before you raised your eyes to face him, a rage bubbling in your stomach that hadn’t ever been before. It was new, and foreign, and dark.

But Mizu said you shouldn’t run from the dark.

“Look at you..” Abijah mocked, “No ones ever made it up half this far before.”

You let out a cry as you sprinted forward. He tried to pull the same move on you but you ducked under, kicking him square in the chest and sending him a few feet back. He kept his footing as he rose again, looking square into your eyes. Your nose scrunched under the mask.

“And you,” He squinted, watching as your shoulders rose and fell heavily with your pants. “I’ve never seen one like you…what are you?” He noticed the spider emblem on your suit and smiled in amusement. “Little spider?”

You remained silent before charging again as Mizu regained herself, and you were too caught up in your anger and attacking the man to notice his large hand coming up to grip your neck.

He dangled you off the ground, watching with a smile as you became more panic. It quickly stilled your movements, your hands beginning to shake as you clawed at his hand. His hand squeezed your throat tighter and you wheezed in his grip.

He wriggled a thumb under your mask and ripped it off, scoffing in amusement.

“Strong little thing, aren’t ya?” He commented, running his thumb over your jawline.

You spit in his face, mustering up the harshest glare you could must as his expression turned to anger.

“Fuck you,”

“Oh, darling,” He laughed, and before you could really process, his gun raised to your stomach and he shot you in the side.

Mizu watched in terror as you screamed. It was nightmarish. The most gut wrenching scream she’d ever heard, and she was sure it was just tattooed onto the inner most parts of her brain. She had been told of your past injuries when she helped you bind your chest, her hand gently running all your scars, but she never imagined that she’d be responsible for another one. Even if it wasn’t by her hands.

He tossed you over near Taigen like you were a rag doll, making your vision spotty as Mizu shouted again, but it barely registered in your head as a fight broke out and he began pummeling Mizu. Taigen had jumped in what you heard, and Fowler was beating him to a pulp above you.

Before you knew it, the three of you were soaring — no… falling, out of the window you’d arrived in, into the freezing water dozens of stories below.

——————

You felt warm.

Were you home?

No… the bedding beneath you was too stiff.

Groaning, you attempted to come to a sitting position before the familiar touch of a stub came to rest on your chest.

“Stay down,”

You opened your eyes softly, letting a smile rest on your lips at the sight of Ringo hovering above you with a wet rag. When he turned back to place the rag on your stomach, he noticed your smile, and returned it with a brighter one.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” You smiled up at him, wincing at the sharp pain as the ragged soaked the water through your wound. “Did you get the bullet out?”

“Mizu did,” He replied, his smile dropping at the topic of your mutual friend. Well, once mutual friend. “It was hard for her though. Almost made me feel bad.”

You raised an eyebrow before sighing, “Let’s not talk about that right now, ‘kay?” You raised a hand and pinched the bridge of your nose. Their beef was not yours, and while you did want them to talk it out and at least make up, you weren’t going to stick your nose where it didn’t belong. He nodded hesitantly, helping you sit up and tie on a haori over your chest bindings. “Where are we?” You asked, looking around the room.

“Master Eiji’s.”

“This is the place?” You glanced around more attentively now, after finding out you were in the house of the man that had taken Mizu under his wing. You had a weird urge to hug him, but you knew that was probably inappropriate. “Huh..”

“I made you medicine,” He interrupted your thoughts and handed you a warm bowl and rose to his feet. “I’ll be just outside. Call if you need me.”

You nodded, not bothering to watch him leave before digging in. You were starving. You probably ate it faster than you were supposed to, but it tasted good and helped you feel good. You crawled over to where the other dirty dishes were stacked, placing your bowl on top. You figured you’d ask Ringo to help wash them once you found Mizu.

It was nearing the middle of the day when you stepped outside, squinting at the sudden bright light before you began wandering into the forest. If she wasn’t at Eiji’s, she was probably doing something out there. You were surprised to see her stacking rocks atop each other from the edge of the clearing, but didn’t hesitate to keep approaching.

“What are you making?”

Mizu jumped at the sound of your voice, clearly too in the zone to notice that your footsteps were loud enough for her to hear for once. At the sight of you, she dropped the rock she gripped tightly in her hands in favor of running over to you and engulfing you in a hug.

You were stunned. Sure, skinship had become a common occurrence in your relationship with Mizu, but it’d never gotten to hugging. 'Figures. Only I’d have a situationship where we’ve kissed each other before hugging,’ You thought to yourself as you gripped onto the back of Mizu’s haori while she silently cried into your hair, holding the back of your head and shoulders like you could slip away at any second.

“Don’t ever do that again,” She scolded while pulling away, placing her hands on either side of your face. She squished your face, causing you to chuckle softly before looking up at her.

Her eyes were soft, round… she’d never looked at you this softly. At least, not while you were looking according to Taigen and Ringo. She almost looked like a kicked puppy from the amount of guilt in her eyes.

“I never should have brought you with,” She whispered, letting one hand fall to your shoulder while the other rested over the gunshot wound on your stomach with a featherlight touch. She was almost scared that she’d break you if she was any more rough. “Then you would’ve been safe with Ringo and…” She sighed shakily, dropping to her knees and resting her forehead against your navel.

Your breath hitched as her hands slid down your sides to grip the tops of your hips with shaky hands.

“and you wouldn’t have almost died because of me. You wouldn’t have another scar because of me.” She almost whimpered it out, hands gripping your hips tighter as she looked up at you. “I can’t lose you.”

Her stunning eyes held the words she couldn’t muster up the courage to say herself, and your cheeks heated up immensely before you kneeled with her, your hands coming to rest on her arms. As you gently caressed the taut muscles, you swallowed the lump in your throat as your hands came to rest on either side of her face.

“You won’t,” You whisper surely, thumbs coming up to catch her tears before they could trail down her cheeks. “I won’t let that happen, and neither will you. We’re too stubborn to die.” You smile, watching her mouth as she does the same. “And I’m too stubborn to let you push me away when I know you feel the same now.”

Mizu huffs out a soft laugh, “Was I that obvious?”

“Eh,” You shrugged, doing a so-so hand motion. “I heard it all the time from Ringo and the bozo, but never really believed it until now. Your eyes are very expressive.”

Mizu chuckles, but it’s cut off when you pull her lips down to yours. Her eyes widen before she lets herself melt into you and your sweet lips, a smile tugging on her lips as her hands grip your haori and pull her closer. You gasped at the sudden gentle yank, and she took her opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Reluctantly, after a few more moments you pulled away with a grin, running a thumb over her now swollen lower lip. Your attention turned behind you to what seemed to be a firepit.

“What are you making?”

Mizu turns her head to see where you’re looking before standing, helping you up to your feet again. Her hand doesn’t leave yours as she begins explaining, and you’re glad. You don’t want to let go of her.

She explains that she’s going to attempt to melt and reforge her sword, since sword father had no steel for her. You listen attentively, barely willing to let her go as she goes over to pick up the rock she dropped and place it in the right spot on the growing wall. She seems optimistic, in a sense as you cross your arms over your chest and watch her work.

“It’ll work,” She grumbles, mostly to herself, as if she’s trying to convince herself – to will it into existence, but there’s still doubt there. You catch it, frowning before taking a stone off the cart to help her. When you place it down, she looks up at you with a surprised expression.

“It’ll work,” You smile, “And I’ll be here to help with whatever you need.”

#mizu x reader #reader x mizu #mizu x you #you x mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai imagines #blue eye samurai fanfiction #mizu blue eye samurai #zoe's works #my works

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algea · 1 month

Text

Ghoul School (pt 2)

prompt: when you get out of the hospital, Lars has put it onto himself to take care of you until you're healed. I can confirm that there is a big chuck of text where you're really pissed off at him before he gets his shit together!

warnings: tbh i literally dont even know. umm yeah your shin is broken and you're concussed so. things may or may not get a little steamy...cussing duh

a/n: im super mega surprised all my Lars stuff has gotten popular; i think it’s very insanely unhealthy how much i love James Acaster.

~ there are a LOT of little secret references to James in here, comment what you picked out ;)

~ also this is probably longer than the first part idk, but its officially the longest post ive written @jesssuperwholock03

~requested by @thestralluvr

Lars visited you everyday. Every morning, every evening after work, sometimes even over his lunch breaks, like clockwork. You were beginning to think it was seriously unhealthy. You were lying in the hospital bed, 4 days after the incident, with your eyes closed. You heard a soft click of the door and you cracked your eyes slightly. You, being oh-so-surprised, were met with the tired face of your crush colleague and work partner. He wore his jumper tied around his waist, a dark colored button up adorning his body. His hair looked disheveled, which could only mean he had just finished a job. He looked so tired, more tired than you've ever seen him be. It was annoying, honestly. Annoying how attractive he was without even trying. 'Why can't I look like that' you thought to yourself, mentally frowning. You decided to acknowledge his presence, seeing how he took time, again, out of his day to come and visit you.

"Lars." You stated, turning your head look over at him. Lars froze, gazing down at your solemn face. You started to reach out to him, but thought otherwise and rested your hand back on the crisp sheets. You watched as he pushed his glasses up and pulled a chair to sit beside you. Lars rested his forearms on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped.

"I was told that you'll be able to get out of here today." He whispered, his tired eyes searching your face. He was desperate for you to come back, back to how things used to be, where he would tease you, and you would always find witty comeback. But he knew you couldn't, not for a while at least. Lars was so scared you weren't going to be able to work for Ghost Corps anymore, especially since the concussion you got really fucked up your head. Not to mention your shin, which was a huge impact on you.

Lars let out a shaky breath. He unclasped his hands and ran one through his hair. You reached out, more confidently this time, and rested your hand on his. He didn't move his hand; he was scared if you let go, you'd disappear.

"Lars." You said again, your face flashing with worry. Your other hand softly touched his chin, holding his face so delicately.

"I'm scared that you're not going to come back." Lars stated, grimacing at the words that flew out of his mouth.

"Why wouldn't I come back? What made you think this?" You asked, your eyebrows drawing together in a sad furrow.

"I want things to be the same, I don't want things to change." He whispered quietly, his eyes cast down.

"I think you and I both know that it won't be the same, neither of us want to admit it. Normally, you don't go around kissing people and pretend like you hate each other for the rest of your life." You explained, searching his eyes for an answer. His eyes glanced back at you as his cheeks burned with pink. You tipped his head to the side ever so slightly, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

"That's unfair, Lars. You can't expect me to leave you alone after that." You pleaded.

"Can we just drop it? It really doesn't fucking matter right now.” Lars snapped. You drew your hand away from his face, hurt flashing across your face.

“What I meant was that we should focus on getting you out of here.” He frantically explained. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away again. Lars had never felt an emotion like this. His ears were ringing and his brain was hazy. It could’ve only been described as embarrassment. He wouldn't cry, no, that's not what he wanted to do. He wanted to apologize over and over again until you'd forget he ever did anything or said anything.

“I think it's maybe time for you to go. When I get out, do me a favor and send Lucky and Pheebs to get me.” You muttered, looking down at your hands. Lars sat there for a few moments, his jaw clenched. He wanted to say something, anything, to make you understand how he felt. Instead, he got up and, with a longing gaze down at you, left.

You felt hot tears sting your eyes, which you allowed to fall down your cheeks. If he wanted to play that dumbass game again, you could do it, just not like you used to. You didn't realize that you were holding your breath until he walked out of the door, not looking back. You slammed your hand down on the bed in a fit of rage, which turned into a soft cry. You wished that you could make better sense of it all, but your wishes never came true.

It was only 2 hours after that you were discharged. Lucky and Phoebe, just as you had requested, rushed in to see you as soon as they could.

"Y/N!" Phoebe exclaimed, running to you and giving you a big hug. You smiled and hugged her back, or at least as much as you could with your crutches. Lucky joined in on the hug before you parted and started making your way to the car.

"Everyone is so happy you're coming home! We've all been super worried." Phoebe smiled, giving you a big smile.

"I'm so happy I get to see you guys again, Pheebs." You grinned back, ruffling her hair. Your mind wandered to Lars as you crutched your way to the car.

"Has um..." You started, realizing that the words were harder to get out of your mouth than you thought.

"He's not here. I haven't seen him since we went out this morning." Lucky explained, catching on to what you were about to ask. You looked down and nodded. 'Of course, how could I be so goddamn stupid.' You thought. Phoebe helped you into the car while Lucky set your crutches next to you. Trevor was driving, which was a whole other risk to be taking.

"Since when did they let you drive?" You asked, grinning at Trevor.

"Since Lars bailed at the last minute. I'm a great driver, so I have no idea what you're even talking about." Trevor bragged. 'He bailed at last minute? He never does that...' You thought sadly. He could've just been working really hard on whatever science thing he was studying. You really didn't know, but it did cut a little.

You didn't know you were carsick until you let Trevor drive you home. You thought Lars was a bad driver, but you quickly realized that Trevor was on the list of 'Never-Ever Drive Me Again,' along with Gary and Ray. You made a mental note of that as you struggled to stand to get out of the car. Trevor quickly rushed to your side to help you, easily pulling you up. You casted your gaze up, which fell on the Firehouse. 'Oh good, he won't be here.' You thought, as a feeling of relief washed over you. You hobbled in next to Phoebe and Trevor with Lucky trailing in not far behind. Callie and Gary stood right after the door, waiting for your arrival. As soon as you entered the Firehouse they were by your side, giving you warm 'hello's' and 'I'm so happy you're back and ok.' You were quick to hug them, hoping to talk to them about your situation with Lars.

"Alright kiddos, time to let the adults talk." Gary clapped, shooing away the smaller kids.

"Hey but I'm not-!" Trevor started, but was dragged away by Lucky. You three sat down around a table. It was silent for a moment as you tried to say what was on your mind.

"Did he come see you?" Callie asked, leaning in close.

"He came and saw me everyday. Sometimes up to three times." You whispered, your hands clasped together. Callie and Gary looked at each other.

"But when he came and saw me this morning, he was different. He was super moody, and got upset when I tried to confront him about kissing me like you said for me to do. I don't know if he doesn't like confrontation or if he, yknow, might be seeing someone else." You went on, nervously biting your nails.

"Y/N, I seriously doubt that there's many women who actually like Lars, much less want to even date him." Gary said, using his left hand to talk. 'Is he right? But I'm sure women think Lars is attractive.' You thought, scrunching your eyebrows together.

"I'm pretty certain that you're like the only woman he's ever talked to in a romantic way, probably even the only woman he’s ever even talked to." Callie confirmed.

"Either way, he likes you. We all know that." Gary finished. You were really hoping he was right, otherwise you were a fool being played.

You chatted for a little while longer, mostly about anything and everything that came to mind. After a while, you told them that you were ready to head home.

"I'll drive you home." Callie said, standing up and grabbing the keys. The ride home was filled with you and Callie singing awful 80's songs, the vast majority of them by Tears for Fears. That was something that cleaned your soul and freed your mind a while. Callie helped you into your apartment before she left with a hug and a warm 'see you soon.' You were seriously hoping that your torture would end.

After a day, you got restless. So restless that you decided to go back to the lab and start working again. Yes, it was idiotically stupid. No, you weren't going to listen to anyone and take a break. Honestly it was going to happen anyways. You walked into the lab the first day, partially hoping that Lars was going to be there, but alas he wasn't. You felt disappointment but you were hopeful that you'd see him tomorrow. Except you didn't. More days past by and you hadn't seen any sign of Lars in the lab at all. You were starting to get more and more worried.

It had been more than a week and you hadn’t seen Lars since. Concern was growing and you were growing weary waiting for him to return. It was extremely hard taking care of yourself, especially since you had to trek a long ways to get yourself to your car outside of your apartment. Finally, you decided it was time to go see Lars. It pissed you off so much that you were running to him, instead of him coming to you. You knew his place, mostly because you, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lucky would sometimes prank him by doing something so absurd he would tremble with anger. That was back when you had your little schoolgirl crush on him, before you realized that you loved him.

You decided to walk, opting for the fact that he knows your car all too well. You weren’t even sure if he was there, you really didn’t even bother checking to see in your group FindMy. You didn’t even bother use your crutches because they were stupid anyways, you could walk just find even though you had a little limp. God you just wanted to fucking punch his stupidly handsome face. He made your blood boil so much.

You were only a few blocks from from his house when it started to rain. Not just a light rain, but a pour. You grew a little worried for your cast, but continued on. You were completely drenched by the time you were on his doorstep. Even worse, it was cold out. You stood on his doorstep for a minute before you started to knock on his door. You breathed out, seeing your own breath in the air. You were so cold. No one answered, which was pretty typical for Lars. He was probably standing in the kitchen, not going to open the door.

"Lars!!" You yelled, knocking on the door some more. Water dripped from your face and you shivered again. The door still didn't open. You sighed and started walking away, the pouring rain drenching you again. You started to tread back to your apartment when you heard a loud bang and turned your head. There Lars was, standing in the doorway, eyes wide as he stared at you.

"Y/N!" Lars yelled back, meeting you in the rain. He craned his head to look down at you, his hands flying to meet your face.

"What are you doing here?" He said, his thumb swiping at your cheek.

"I came to see you. Where the fuck have you been, Lars Pinfield?!" You boomed, your right hand gripping the front of his shirt. His head dropped and he closed his eyes.

"I...I couldn't face you after that dumb shit I pulled. I wanted to apologize, really I did, but I couldn't bring myself to face you." Lars explained, his breath creating a misty cloud. All that either of you could do was stare at each other incredulously.

“Are you fucking stupid? I’ve wanted to see you all week, but your dumbass wouldn’t show up. Jesus Christ Lars, do you have any clue how much I’ve missed you? You’re so goddamn unfair you know that?!” You screamed, pounding on his chest. Lars’ hands moved from your face to your waist, holding you steady while you angrily punched him. He could only see you through his hair, which now stuck to his forehead, and his rain covered glasses which were fogging up. He was freezing, but all he could ever think about was you. How cold were you? Why would you sacrifice your time, hell, your health to come see him. He really couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend why someone would ever do that for someone. You would think with him being such a genius he would figure it out, however some people can be dense. But he realized that you were giving up all your time to invest in him. So, he decided that he needed to do the same.

"Do you think, maybe, that you'd want to spend the rest of your life, with me, maybe not just hating each other. And maybe not while hating each other, you'd like to be with me, y'know, for a long while?" Lars whispered, causing you to stop throwing punches. You looked up at him, in all his rain drenched glory. God, he looked so beautiful. You began to tremble, your hands lifting to capture his face with them. Lars breath quickened, his large hands gripping your waist. His hazy blue eyes captured yours, holding you in his everlasting gaze.

"Lars..." You murmured, swiping your thumb across his bottom lip. It was soft, softer than you thought it would've been. You found yourself daydreaming again about kissing him, though you'd never let him know how many times you've done it. You realized how close you were after you felt his breath against your cheek. You leaned in closer, pressing your chest against his. It was like something out of a movie, the way time stopped then. When your lips pressed against his, your body shuddered. It was like fireworks went off inside of you, making you all jittery and excited. Lars' hands slipped from your waist to your ass, softly gripping the flesh there. You slipped your fingers into his blond locks, tugging lightly. You heard a light groan rumble from his chest as he pressed into you further.

You weren't sure if the rain mixed with the cold had made you delirious, but after Lars had pulled away, it made him look even hotter. His tousled, wet hair, his lips that were red after the kiss, the ruby flush that adorned his cheeks and ears, and his half-lidded eyes made him even more beautiful. You found yourself feeling heat creep up through your neck to your cheeks as he stared down at you.

“Shit, right, you need to get inside, now.” Lars commanded, dragging you towards the door.

“Lars—!” You exclaimed, eyes widening as he basically picked you up. Your hands fly to grip the shirt on his back as you hoists you over his shoulder. He muttered a few things under his breath as he strolled to the door, obviously not caring that the rain was coming down harder. Lars opened the door, set you down, and shut the door with the heel of his shoe.

“Give me a second.” He commanded, leaving you standing in the foyer. You shivered and looked around, noticing some things that seemed quite out of place. Lars had multiple different band posters framed and hung up around the house, most of them signed. You could pick out a few like Pindrop, Temps, and the Timewasters. You also found multiple different movie titles like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and other things. ‘Interesting’ You thought as you took in your surroundings. Lars appeared again with a towel and some sort of clothes he had found for you to wear.

“If you fuck up my good clothes, I’m kicking your ass to the curb again.” Lars sighed, throwing the towel at you.

“Whatever, brainiac.” You bit back, trying to hold back your grin as you shoved past him. That earned a scoff and an eye roll from Lars.

“Washroom is down the right hall, second door to the left.” He called, peaking down at you as you went to change.

Lars had never had a girl in his house before. Other than the times his mother and sister had come over from Britain, obviously. His “outside” friends insisted that he bring a girl home, but he couldn’t ever bring himself to when he could only think of you. It made him a little giddy knowing that you were here with him. It was like a fever dream, if he woke up it all would be gone. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure that there was a way to prove that this was real. Lars found himself wondering if you liked how his house was decorated, the clothes he brought you, even the way the house smelt. At the thought of these, he began to worry that you didn’t like it here. Those thoughts were denied when you waddled back from the bathroom, furiously rubbing at your hair to dry it. It was silly, really. Lars thought you looked a little too good in his clothes. His Temps T-shirt was too big for you, and his plaid pj pants were rolled a few times to even try and fit you.

“You look stupid in that.” Lars scoffed once more, looking anywhere but your face.

“Hey man, you picked this out. Don’t blame me for your shit style.” You tried back. A hint of a smile could be found dawning his face. You smirked and poked his cheek.

“Is that a smile I see? Is the Lars Pinfield smiling in my presence?” You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand to fake gasp.

“No, it isn’t.” He replied, the smile growing wider on his face.

“It so totally is!!! Lars Pinfield is literally smiling right in front of me!” You exclaimed. He shook his head.

“Shut up. Anyways, I’m getting changed, don’t fucking break anything.” Lars sighed, sliding past you.

“You can put on anything, just as long as it’s not some stupid BritCom.” He added, shutting the door to his room.

“Who even watches BritComs…” You muttered to yourself. Walking back into the main foyer, you sat down on the sofa, which was surprisingly nice compared to how you thought your scientist boyfriend colleague lived. You sat down and flicked through the channels, stopping on whatever stupid romcom movie was on. You sighed and put your chin in your hand, anticipating the snappy response of ‘this is the shittiest movie I’ve ever seen.’

“Hey.” You heard from above you. Looking up, you saw Lars resting his elbows on the top of the sofa next to you.

“Hi.” You peeped back. Secretly, you were gawking at him. Lars wore a pair of white sweatpants and a black shirt. You’ve never seen him in casual wear, but you were absolutely loving it right now. His glasses weren’t pushed up, loosely sitting below the bridge of his nose, and his hair was still damp. If this wasn’t heaven, you didn’t know what was.

“What’re we watching?” He asked, glancing down at you. You shivered when his eyes locked on to yours.

“Some stupid romcom, you probably won’t like it anyways.” You answered.

“You’re right, I’ll probably think it’s super shitty, but I’ll watch it anyways.” He sighed, tipping his head towards you. You reached up and placed a kiss on his lips. Lars scrunched his eyebrows and sighed. After you pulled away, you patted the seat beside you, beckoning him to sit down. He all but scrambled to get next to you, plopping down with another big sigh.

“How’s your leg?” Lars asked once more, motioning to it with his eyes.

“It has definitely seen better days.” You replied earnestly. He nodded in sincerity, then turned his attention back to whatever you were watching. You looked over at him again before reaching over and slipping your hand into his. He didn't move, so you considered it a win. Taking matters into your hands again, you slid closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. Lars' head rested on top of yours immediately and you smiled as he snuggled in closer. You could smell whatever cologne he was wearing, a citrusy, vanilla smell.

"You smell good." You muttered, looking up at him through your lashes. Lars didn't reply, but you could definitely imagine the look on his face. That little embarrassed smile with a scarlet blush dusting his cheeks. You found yourself becoming a little sleepy as you settled in. Blinking a few times, you tried to wake yourself up, but that only made you even more sleepy. Unintentionally, you started to fall asleep. As you drifted off to sleep, you could hear Lars mutter something to you, but you didn't respond.

Somehow, in the middle of the night, you had moved from the sofa, to Lars' bed. Now you only had 2 options as to how you got there. 1. You sleep walked to the bed and magically laid down, or 2. Lars had carried you there. You groaned and opened your eyes, lifting a hand to rub them. You blinked a couple times and sat up. No, Lars wasn't in here. So then, where was he? You slipped out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen, finding that he wasn't there either. A cup of coffee and some breakfast was left on the counter, along with a note saying,

'I'll be back later, got a couple things I need to work on at the lab. I left you some breakfast and I'm sure you can fend for yourself for lunch. Please don't burn the house down. - Lars' You smiled and picked up the coffee, finding that it was still steaming. You noticed that Lars had made the coffee the way you liked it, which meant he definitely paid attention whenever you ordered it.

After basically spending the whole day exploring Lars' house, you settled into the sofa once more with a random book you had picked out of his bookcase. Hearing keys jingle, you lifted your head from the book and saw Lars venture in. You slowly got up, minding both your head and leg, and made your way over to him.

"Hi handsome, how did work go?" You smiled at him, leaning against the doorway.

"It was...eventful. I got thrown up on by pukey." Lars sighed. You laughed and patted his shoulder.

"That was probably hilarious. I'll make dinner while you take a shower." You said, pushing him along to the bathroom.

"Mmmm, fine. But..." He started before he swooped down and kissed you. Your hand flew to his hair, giving it a nice tug. With that came a loud groan. Lars' gripped your waist and pushed you against the wall. His tongue swiped at your lips, which you gladly accepted. You snatched his glasses and tossed them away, squirming slightly as his nails dug your waist. When he pulled away he grinned,

"Looks like I'm not getting my shower in tonight."

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield x you #lars pinfield x reader #ghostbusters #ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters x reader #james acaster #james acaster x reader

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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year

Note

May i ask for a female! reader x Johnny MacTavish tooth rutting fluff after some hurt with smut if you're comfortable enough?. They're sickeningly in love with eachother , and between his job that needs his complete and full commitment and her being a busy woman who has a lot in her plate as well ; they barely can get any time for each other but God Knows how much they crave one another's love and touch, how it's painfully hard for them to open Their eyes from the faint memory of eachother, until one day, their stars aligned and got lucky enough to finally meet at the same time, same day after a long time.🤎

I love this!!! I love your brain!!! This is the longest thing I’ve written so far, I was so inspired 😭

warnings: mentions of injuries, nsfw, this is really long holy shit lmao

You were a nurse on base when you first met Soap, you were elbow deep in his blood doing everything you could to stem the bleeding and in his delirious pain-killer infused haze, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The way the light above you framed your head in a halo, he was convinced that if you were the last thing he saw before he died he’d be fine.

And when he came to after a successful surgery, he told you as much. Needless to say, you were beet red at his confession. You laughed it off and attributed it to the cocktail of various pain meds churning through his system. Your laugh was the most gorgeous sound he’d ever heard, he decided that everything in the world would pale in comparison to you. Nothing could possibly be more beautiful than your radiant smile, your enchanting laugh, nothing.

It wasn’t until later on that you realized you forgot to set a flow on the IV infusion pump and he was on the minimum dose of pain meds. You sprinted back to his room and fixed it while he was asleep. You refused to admit you were distracted by his beautiful blue eyes.

Checking in on him was your favorite part of the day, he’d always greet you with a beaming smile and you’d find yourself sticking around longer and longer every time you’d check on him. Eventually you found yourself eating your lunch in his room, laughing at his ridiculous jokes, hanging off every word of his stories, exchanging a few of your own. Soon enough, he was occupying your every thought. You found yourself thinking of him as you filled out the discharge paperwork for some of the other patients, wondering what kind of man he is in the comfort of his home, curious as to how he takes his coffee and if he’d ever teach you.

And then he was cleared to return to active duty. The news sat in your stomach like a ball of lead but you were still happy for him, thrilled that he was healed (enough to go back to the field).

“I know you’re cleared to get back to it, but try to limit your activity for the next two weeks or so. Your wounds have healed for the most part but, as much as I loved having you here, I don’t want to see you back here again.” You teased as you handed him his discharge paperwork,

“What if I came back under different circumstance?” He asked, you bit your lower lip in an attempt to stifle the girlish smile that threatened to split your face in two,

“Then I’d be happy to see you again.”

And so it would be. You’d see him pop into your office every now and again, cup of coffee and a protein bar in his hands, it never failed to bring a glowing smile to your face. You’d sip your coffee and eat your bar and exchange a few laughs but one of you always had to run, you loved those small moments but they never felt like enough. When your hands and arms were covered in the blood of a critical case, you’d cling to the idea of seeing him again, the thought was the only peace you’d have amidst the chaos. When Soap was pinned down behind cover with Ghost doing everything possible to assist, he’d think back to the time he brought you coffee and bumped into you leaving your office, spilling it all over himself. He chuckled at the memory of your mortified face as you ran back inside and grabbed as many paper towels as you could, patting him down and apologizing profusely. He could do this for you. He holds on to the next time he’ll see you.

The moments became fewer and farther in between, he used to be able to catch you in your office but you never seemed to be there anymore. He ignored the pain in his chest when he left the styrofoam cup on your desk with a sticky note and your name on it. When you’d chat with Captain Price about the task force, you’d swallow the lump in your throat that would come up when he’d tell you Soap and Ghost were out on a mission at the moment. But everyone is fine for the most part. You smiled at him but it never reached your eyes, you were grateful for everyone’s well-being of course! But maybe you cared about one of them more than the others.

Your rotation was up and it was your turn to head home for a few weeks until you were due back again. It’s been months since you’ve seen anything having to do with Johnny. You didn’t want to go home, not without seeing him, not without knowing he’s alright, not without hearing his voice. Swallowing your tears you wrote a note for him, you jotted down your number and where you lived and how best to reach you and you left the note in his room.

You were a week into your time home and you hadn’t heard anything, you feared the worst. Your friends caught onto your blues and invited you out for drinks. The promise of the burn was tempting so you opted to go with them. You weren’t really in the mood to get all dressed up but still you opted for a nice blouse, well fitting jeans, and some ankle boots with a modest heel on them. You were nursing a mojito and tuned out of your friend’s conversations when you heard your name being called, you looked up at them and noticed none of them were referring to you. Your head perked up and looked around the room and you were met with a striking pair of blue eyes and a ridiculous mohawk, you didn’t even hesitate to get up and walk over to him.

As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you into the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your perfume,

“I’m so sorry, bonnie, I got your note but I lost the damn thing as soon as I got back.” His voice was muffled on account of him being buried in your hair,

“I’m so glad you’re safe, Johnny.” You breathed, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder. “I was so worried.”

“I’ll always come back to you.”

He turned his head to look at you, his heart pounding in his chest, your eyes flicked between his lips and the beautiful blue orbs burning a hole in your skin.

“Care to make that a promise?” You felt short of breath and could barely get the words out, head swimming, blood thrumming, the alcohol you drank was nowhere near enough to have this effect on you.

“Your place, I take it?”

You couldn’t even speak so you opted for nodding instead. You jogged back over to your friends, said goodbye, grabbed your things, and bolted back into Johnny��s arms. Your mojito and your blues long forgotten. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought you in close to his chest, tucked under his arm, his thumb stroked your shoulder through the the fabric of your shirt.

“You look god damn beautiful.”

Your heart was pounding, you couldn’t believe this was real. You were half expecting to wake up in your room alone, but the misstep and small tumble on your part told you otherwise. You laughed as he effortlessly caught you and set you right,

“Careful, bonnie, didn’t realize I’d get you trippin’ over yourself.” He teased, you bumped your hip against his with a giggle. Feeling brave you bit your lip you leaned up to him, mouth dangerously close to his ear,

“You can get me to do a lot more than that, Johnny.” You kissed his jaw with a slow press of your lips,

“Steamin’ Jesus, hen, keep talkin’ like that and we won’t make it to yours.”

Thankfully you didn’t live too far but that didn’t stop the ache in your feet from your heels, you shakily put your keys in the lock, stepping aside once you opened the door to your apartment. When you watched him walk in, you realized it was the only sight you wanted to see for the rest of your life. You stepped in and flipped the light switch, leaning against the wall to take off your shoes.

“You too, Johnny, no exceptions.” You nodded at him with a playful seriousness,

“Yes ma’am.” He sat on the small bench by your front door and unlaced his shoes,

You could get used to hearing that from him.

Now that he was here, you almost were unsure what to do with yourself. Your veins thrumming with anticipation, your hands clenching into fists and unclenching at your sides, he watched you with a chuckle before getting up and walking over to you. He stood in front of you, warm hand on your hip, the other cupping your jaw and tilting your head up to look at him,

“Allow me.”

It was like nothing else. His lips were so god damn soft, they fit against yours like they were meant to be there. You couldn’t help the moan that slipped as you clung to him, your hands coming up to wrap around his neck and bring yourself ever closer. Fuck, he kissed like he meant it. Like you’ve been together for years and this is the first time he’s seen you in while (it’s not that far from the truth). He kisses like his life depended on it, and he really felt like it did.

He walked you backwards until your back hit the wall, he ground his hips against yours when you bit his lower lip and gave it a tug. His hands ventured downward, tracing your curves until they stopped and the soft flesh of your ass, pulling you that much closer.

“Where?”

“Down the hall on the left.” You squealed when he leaned down and grabbed you by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips as he walked you both to your bedroom. His tongue prodded your lower lip and you gladly let him in, he groaned at the taste of you and the residual mojito on your tongue. He pushed the door to your room open with his foot and almost stumbled with you in his arms, you couldn’t help the breathless giggle that turned into a whine when he started kissing your jaw, the spot behind your ear, stopping when he reached the pulse point that drove you crazy. He’s never touched you like this and already he had a sense for what made you squeeze him a little tighter.

He set you down gently on the bed, he looked down at you, your flushed and kiss swollen lips, the heaving of your chest, your blown pupils watching his every move.

“Never seen a prettier thing in all my life.” His hands ran over the curves of your hips, pulling your shirt out from your jeans, tugging it higher until you sat up and he was able to take it off completely. His eyes wandered over your breasts, his fingers tracing the patterns his blue eyes tracked in your skin until the stopped at the hem of your jeans,

“Please, Johnny.” He wasted no time in undoing the button on your jeans and sliding them down your legs, he sat back on his haunches and looked at you. The length of your legs, the swell of your hips, the smooth skin of your stomach, the soft flesh of your breasts, god you’re breathtaking. You leaned up and tugged on his shirt, but he was so in awe of you that it didn’t click. So when your colder hands slid under the fabric and pulled it up and off of him, it shocked him back to the moment. Johnny gently pushed you back down onto your back, barely giving you time to admire the chiseled figure leaning down over you.

“Relax, sweet girl, I’ve got you.” He kissed the edge of your lips, slowly making his way down the expanse of your body. Mouthing at the soft skin on your breasts, biting and sucking and going lower and lower, stopping at the apex of your thighs.

“Keep your eyes on me, look away and I’ll stop. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fuck, don’t know what you do to me.” Your silky legs found their way onto his shoulders, his fingers digging in and bruising the meat of your thighs. Your legs trembled as he started licking and kissing, absolutely devouring you, fingers pushing your underwear aside and diving into the warmth of your cunt,

“Johnny…” Your hands moved to his head, threading your fingers through his surprisingly soft hair, unintentionally messing up the carefully styled hair but the thought didn’t even cross his mind.

“Could eat you all fuckin’ night, Princess. ‘Specially when you say my name like that.” He groaned against you, encouraged by the noises spilling from your parted lips. You rolled your hips in time with him pumping his fingers,

“Yeah? Want me to devour you ‘till there’s nothin’ left?” You were a writhing, moaning, mess and he’d barely gotten started, the noises coming from him were pornographic as he groaned against your heat, his tongue gliding between your folds and swirling around your clit. Your eyes threatened to flutter closed as it was too much to take in, but Johnny’s gaze held you firmly, daring you to look away, knowing you wouldn’t. Knowing you were clay in his hands, knowing he could mold you however he felt and that you’d let him. The thought went straight to the throbbing erection straining against his jeans.

“Johnny- so close- please.” Your voice kept hitching, knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, you shamelessly ground your hips against his mouth and he ate you like a man starved, savoring the taste of you, flicking his tongue and causing your legs to tighten around his head. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling at the spot that had you seeing stars, “Fuck Johnny ple-ease.” Higher and higher you climbed that peak until your head was thrown back against the bed, the wind getting knocked out of your lungs, so god damn close to tipping over that edge.

Then he stopped. He withdrew his fingers and straightened up and as soon as he did your eyes fluttered back open and you looked up at him, confusion evident. He brought his fingers to his mouth, and your mind went blank. Your hands went to undo his belt and unfasten the button of his jeans, pulling them down his muscular thighs.

“Taste so goddamn good, bonnie.” He wiped mouth with the back of his hand, standing up and kicking off his jeans, sliding his boxer briefs off and away from him while you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra and toss it aside.

“Unreal how gorgeous you are, hen.” He kneeled back on the bed, kissing his way up from your soft ankles, teasing your clit with a flick of his tongue, nipping and sucking at your pebbled nipples, biting the sweet spot on your neck until finally, finally, he kissed you again. You moaned into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue, grinding your hips against his,

“Please, Johnny, please fuck me.” You begged between breathless kisses.

“One more time, bonnie, please.” He was every bit out of breath as you are, your sweet moans knocking the air out of him. He gently tugged your lower lip between his teeth, “Need ta hear it one more time.”

“Fuck me, Johnny. I need you.” He pressed his forehead against yours, looking down at where he rubbed his dick against your slick heat. He shuddered at the warmth of you as he lined himself up with your entrance, groaning when he finally plunged into your throbbing cunt. You threw your head back with a moan and he dropped his against your shoulder,

“Sweet fuck bonnie, so fuckin’ good.” He panted, heart thundering in his chest when he dared to start moving his hips, starting off his thrusts slowly, meticulously, watching your every move, every twitch of your muscles, the way your mouth hung open as a string of moans and pleas spilled out of your pretty kiss-swollen lips.

“Faster, Johnny, please.” He could never resist you, not before when you were just having micro coffee dates, and certainly not now when he’s balls deep in the warmth of your pussy. He leaned back, hands on your hips as his thrusts started picking up speed, he was hypnotized by the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, bringing you with him each time he drove into you.

“Fuckin’ Christ, bonnie, the state of you.” He panted, one hand moving to rub your clit and it made you clench even harder around him. He groaned your name as his thrusts picked up in intensity and speed, your small hands clutched at his wrists, your legs wrapping around his hips to bring him that much closer to you. It created a new angle that had you arching your back off the bed, chanting his name in between moans, begging him not to stop,

“Don’t think I can stop, hen.” He felt the sweat rolling down his temples, his entire body feeling like an exposed nerve ending, every inch of him on fire,

“Please don’t. ’M- fuck- on the pill. Dont. Fucking. Stop.” You could barely get the words out, the last part coming out through gritted teeth,

“Fuck don’t say tha’.” He chuckled breathlessly, you pulled him down towards you, wrapping your arms around his neck,

“Come with me, Johnny.” You bit the edge of his jaw, laving it with your tongue, sucking a colorful spot under his ear, his hips stuttered as he started thrusting harder into you. He turned his head and kissed you roughly, teeth tugging at your lips, you clenched around him as your orgasm washed over you. Your back arched off the bed, tits pressed against him, one of his arms snaked around your back and held you against him as he came with a groan, coaxed over the edge by your fluttering walls milking him for all he’s worth. He nearly collapsed on top of you if it wasn’t for him bracing himself with his arms on either side of your head, you wrapped your legs around his hips, keeping him close for just a moment longer. He kissed the side of your head and gently tapped your thigh, you untangled yourself from him and he pulled out and flopped onto his side, chest heaving, ears ringing just a little but in the best way.

“I’ll have you know, I’m not usually a ‘first date’ kind of girl.” You panted, a playful smile pulling your lips as you turned onto your side to look at him. He chuckled and mimicked your movements,

“Wha’re you on about? Had plenty of dates, unless you’re saying you don’t count us having breakfast together as a date.” He quirked a brow, reaching across the both of you and taking a strand of your hair between his fingers,

“Well, uh, I mean, I-” Your cheeks went hot at the realization that he’s not wrong, and that maybe you sounded kind of rude, even if it was playful banter,

“I’m only teasin’, hen, course I’ll take you to dinner.” You shoved him jokingly as he pulled you close, his legs tangling with yours, arms wrapping around you and holding you against him,

“Or… you could stick around… indefinitely?” You suggested meekly, fingers tracing patterns in the dusting of hair on his chest, your head was tucked under his chin so you couldn’t see the blinding grin on his face. He buried his nose in your hair and kissed the crown of your hair,

“I like your idea better.”

#soap mactavish x reader #soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap smut #soap mactavish smut #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod one shot

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bri-in-ur-attic · 1 year

Text

One should keep their Promises

Yandere?Ayato x gn!reader (sfw)

Skipped the Irodori event from a long ass time ago now so there’s prob inaccurate info abt it here

I tried to make Ayato as little of a yandere as possible while also being one lol, he’s just mostly obsessed and delusional

yall this fic took me forever to do, its the longest one ive ever written too over 3k sheesh (started this bitch back in April of last year holy shit)

warnings: minor yan themes??, very little spoilers for Ayato’s past, smiiiiidge angst

remember behavior like this irl is shitty behavior that should never be condoned. this is PURELY FICTION I wrote this for fun and to improve my writing

Back when times were simple, back when Ayato’s beloved parents were still alive and when he could enjoy his childhood, a young teen Ayato snuck out of the estate just for the fun of it, he wanted to feel the rebellious energy of breaking the rules, he was just going to be out for an hour or two. Ayato took a kitsune mask with him to conceal his identity and made it to Chinju Forest, then that was when he heard it, the sound of an Shamisen playing along with a sweet humming to harmonize with

He almost mistakes you for an beautiful spirit, Ayato took off the mask for a second to witness your performance with his own eyes

Putting the mask back on, he carefully strolls towards you and taps your shoulder

You flinched and turn around to see someone your age with a kitsune mask, he waved at you and you give a small nervous wave back

“I apologize if I had startled you, but I like how you play your instrument! Could you perhaps continue?”

“O-oh uhm, s-sure!..”

Little you was still flustered but still managed to play your Shamisen skillfully.

Even with a bit of a awkward first meeting, the two of you got along well with together, so much so that you two would continue to meet up for the next three months, although Ayato would continue to wear his kitsune mask, not that he didn’t trust you, he put it on as precaution if scummy people were to encounter the heir of the Kamisato clan out in the open vulnerable, it would endanger not only himself, but you as well.

You seemed to enjoy Ayato’s company and vice versa

Though Ayato might’ve enjoyed yours a little much as even at a young age he wanted to marry you already, he knew it had to be love at first sight!

The two of you experienced what Ayato couldn’t have back at home, companionship of another his age

Then at the third month of meeting up with each other, he dropped the proposition

“Y/n, marry me.”

You obviously were taken aback by his sudden proposal, not only did you just reach your teens, the two of you knew each other for only three months!

“What?? Isn't it too early to even think about that?”

“I mean when we’re grown up, when we’re adults, let's marry!”

You still seemed hesitant as you met each other only three months ago! The kitsune-masked boy didn't even tell you his name for crying out loud!

“I still don’t know, I mean, you haven’t even told me your name yet and I don’t even know what you look like.” you say with a little pout

Ayato thought your expression was very cute but his heart clenches a little, he wants to badly reveal his identity, but he can’t risk it, and he didn’t want you change your view of him if you found out that he was from a high noble clan, just not now

He then reached for your hands

“I promise I will tell and show you who I am one day, please just trust me Y/n.”

The expression on your face doesn’t change, Ayato was getting worried

With sigh, you suddenly lean your forehead on his mask-covered forehead

Ayato was shocked by your immediate move of intimacy and he was thankful for the mask covering up his blushing cheeks which were now red as beets, but he had no complaints as he wraps his arms around you

Now it was your turn to be shocked, but you slowly lean into his body, you inhaled the scent of his clothing through your nose a bit, he definitely had a scent that implied he was from a noble clan, but you didn’t care, you loved him for him

“Promise me that you’ll marry me Y/n.”

“I promise.”

But the kitsune-masked boy never returned after that day

You came back every day for him hoping he would return, but he never did. This was the first time you’ve experienced heartbreak, you felt betrayed, abandoned, maybe that boy was just toying with you for his own amusement, maybe you were just a plaything that he got bored of and forgot about after playing with your feelings. And so you decide to stop showing up and move on with life.

Over the years you still continued to play your Shamisen despite the lingering sad memories you’ve had because of it. Of course, you managed to move on and not be a slave of the heartbreak and putting all your passion on music, and then that was how you received an Anemo Vision

While you moved on and lived a carefree and fun life, Ayato was in misery

He desperately wanted to visit you again, but his parents had fallen ill and soon passed away leaving the burden of growing up too fast and becoming the Clan leader at an age too early

But Ayato’s duties came first and he had a sister to look after too but he still would remember and keep the promise the two of you made that day, he will meet you again one day and marry you, he would tear this island apart to see you again

—--------------------

Many years later, you were now an adult, sometimes you would recall the kitsune-masked boy and laugh at how silly the Romeo-Juliet love story you had with him was, teenage hormones really took over you that day, as naive you were, younger you’s feelings for him back in the day were real

Oh well, no need to dwell on the past anymore

You had a group of pals you joined with who were also musically talented, the group would travel around Narukami Island and perform and even managed to earn a bit of income as well!

Now with the Irodori Festival, this was the perfect opportunity to gain a large crowd since many more were arriving from around Teyvat thanks to Inazuma’s borders opening again

—--------------------

Your group decided to make a short play about a cheesy love story of two lovers who were forbidden to be together, you were against the idea at first but your other groupmates voted for the cheesy play, with reluctance, you gave a thumbs up

The time had come for the play, a crowd started to form excited for what band had planned for this time

Ayato and the Traveler with their floating companion were visiting and touring around the festival’s spoils

From time to time, you always appeared on his mind, to say he still wasn’t over you would be an understatement to an extent. He never forgot how younger him impulsively proposed to you without even revealing his true identity, but despite that, you loved him, you accepted his proposal to marry him one day

So imagine how much it pained Ayato having no choice but to leave you and only to finally be able to come back and not see you

Of course, he couldn’t blame you, it took him about six years to finally come back, but you didn’t forget your promise, right?

He missed you dearly after all, he missed the friendliness of your nature, your kindness, your music, and of course, your love. On days where stress overtook him, Ayato couldn’t indulge in you physically, and so he gets lost in memories of the past feeling the love of those memories over and over again

“Come on Y/n! Join the dance!!!”

Lavender eyes widen at the mention of the name and slowly turns his head towards the direction where the name was yelled

“Uh hey Ayato, are you ok?” the floating child asked concerned while waving her short arms towards him

“Y-yes, please excuse me for a second.”

And with that Ayato speed walked towards the way where Y/n was mentioned. He could see a crowd around a group of performers who were singing and dancing and then..

There you were, his beloved Y/n

His mouth agape as he laid eyes on you as he admires how much you’ve grown since then, you were somehow more beautiful. Ayato noticed that you too had earned a vision, then his eyes started to dart towards how your hips were swaying with the beat of music, he blushed deeply and mentally slapped himself for eyeing you inappropriately after not seeing you in years

Even after all these years, you were still playing the Shamisen, the same instrument you had played that attracted him towards you all those years ago. During the rest of the play, Ayato wasn't paying attention to the your fellow group members, his full attention was on you as he ignored the shocked faces of some people who couldn't believe the Yashiro Commissioner was there

You truly were still enchanting

After the play, the crowd claps and soon departs, only for the high and mighty Lord Ayato to remain as he was hiding behind an alley after the play was over to not attract unwanted attention towards him

"Good job crew! We had quite a crowd today! Think it's the biggest one we've had!"

"You too Y/n! I didn't really think you could dance, sing and play at the same time!"

"Hmph, I'm still not really happy with you pulling me in the front, Kenshi."

"Oh hush, you never perform in the front, you just needed a gentle push."

You roll your eyes as you and Kenichi pack up the equipment with the rest of the group going out to get some snacks

"Besides, I think you did a wonderful performance Y/n "

"I agree, for I think that was the best Shamisen solo I've ever heard."

A man in high noble attire with sharp sapphire eyes suddenly engages in the conversation

Something about him was

Awfully familiar

Kenshi then nudges you

“G-greetings Lord Ayato!�� Kenshi says as she bows elbowing you to do the same

Ah so that’s why he felt familiar, but there’s something more about this man that you couldn't quite put your finger on

You give a small bow of simply tilting your head downwards

“Good afternoon, I just came by to compliment on how well your group has done on the play. The singing, dancing and the composition.”

Lord Ayato for some reason kept his eyes mostly directed at you, it made you a bit uncomfortable

“T-thanks- I mean- thank you my Lord.”

Screw all this fancy talking, you just wanted to hurry up leave and enjoy your sweet Dango milk

“Say, considering how talented you are Y/n, would you perhaps grant me the honor of performing in the Kamisato Estate personally for my sister and I? She would love to witness your talents.”

Both you and Kenshi were flabbergasted on the Lord’s sudden proposition

‘Marry me, Y/n.’

The memory suddenly rewinded in your head, why did that happen?....

“Y/n? You good? You have to accept this offer!!” Kenshi said as she gently placed her hand on your shoulder

“OH! Oh uhm, yes! I will be honored to perform for your family and you, my Lord..”

“That’s splendid, tomorrow morning then, see you until then Y/n, don’t keep us waiting too long.”

And with that, the Kamisato Lord elegantly walks off, with a grin obsessively love-sick that you didn’t see

With his presence finally gone, you lean on Kenshi’s shoulder a bit, exhausted

“Hey Y/n, are you ok?”

“I..don’t know…”

—--------------------

Morning had arrived too soon

With each step that took you closer to the grand Kamisato Estate, anticipation dreads over you

Meanwhile Ayato woke up more early than usual, he was already ready as soon as the sun had rose

“Dear brother, why have you waken so early in the morning?”

“Ah, well we have a special guest coming in soon, Ayaka.”

Foolish Ayato, he had forgotten to inform his sister that you were arriving

Maybe he shouldn’t had woken up so early, hours what felt like eternity were actually 30 minutes

With a scoff, Ayato began to write down witty lines he could say to you, wedding locations and even went as far as listing some names for your possible future kids

After about half an hour of scribbling, he accidently dozes off and falls asleep

In Ayato’s dreams, there was a vision of a past memory of when he proposed to you in your teens, and then he sweetly dreamed of the inevitable future with you snuggling up with him in bed, greeting him with kisses after a long day of work. What Ayato saw next in his dreams was the cherry on top of his fantasies, you and him on the field that he too went to with his family as a child, and suddenly two kids come running up to the both of you, this was what all that he ever wanted, a family. Of course, he had his dear sister, but a loving spouse and 2 beautiful children maybe even more was perfect. A family he could build with the love of his life

But the dream ends before he could indulge in them further as a knock awakens him

“Lord Kamisato, a musician has arrived proclaiming that you invited them in the estate.”

Perfect

“Ah yes I did, do let them in.”

It’s ok, his dreams would become a reality soon after all

—--------------------

“Good morning musician, I pray you have had a good night’s rest?”

“Quite milord.”

In reality, you haven’t. You had barely gotten sleep due to the fact of how uncomfortably familiar Kamisato Ayato was, you were dreading the morning as you wanted to stay away from him, besides, politicians are always bad news, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to accept his proposition. But with Ayato being a very high official ranking nobleman, he could probably send good word across Inazuma for not only your band but yourself as well

“Oh hello! You must be the musician the Lord as invited!”

A blonde man walks in waving towards you, his aura was nice to be around compared to Ayato’s

Sending a shy wave back towards the blonde man, a beautiful lady in armor approached

“Good morning everyone, I see that the musician has arrived shall we head inside the estate?”

—--------------------

During your solo performance, you mostly focused your eye contact with Lady Ayaka and Thoma as they were more pleasant to be around in contrast to Ayato’s authoritive self

He was,, strange around you

His gaze towards you were as if he’s analyzing you to find your weak points, even when he was walking beside you when heading inside the estate you caught him eyeing you, but you can’t deny that he sure does a pretty face, a really pretty one in fact

And with the final chord strung to conclude your show, you accidently come in eye contact with him

Piercing blue eyes meets the e/c briefly

“What a beautiful performance Mx. Y/n! I never heard anyone play the Shamisen played in that style!”

“I agree with Lady Ayaka Y/n! Quite the solo you did.”

With their compliments, you slightly blushed and lowered your head in respect and gratitude

“Hm, couldn’t had said it better myself, you certainly are talented y/n.”

“Thank you milord.”

You only offered him a side glance in which you cursed to yourself as that rude action might get you in trouble, thankfully Ayato didn’t seem to mind as he only chuckled

“I would actually like to have a few private words with y/n here, I personally have some curious questions to ask them.”

Both Ayaka and Thoma widened their eyes towards Ayato’s request, but granted it as they both got up and went out

“Dear brother, do make it quick for Mx. Y/n”

Letting out an airy laugh, Ayaka and Thoma leaves you alone with Ayato with Thoma giving a small smile towards you

‘Please don’t leave me with him...’

“Musician, please, may you direct your attention towards me?” Ayato says while placing a hand on your shoulder

With a sigh, you turn your head and to be met with something that you desperately tried to repress from your memories

The mask of the boy you met all those years ago

“Y-you..no-no way..”

“Hehe, Y/n my dear, it has been way too long.” he says while stroking your cheek

Due to the mask being too small for Ayato to wear, he simply placed it in front of his face, but regardless, you feel as if you were back in that forest with him all those years ago

You stare at mask, memories of your teen years flashing before your eyes

Shock turns into despair and finally into anger

No way you were going to let this man try to crawl back into your life after he ditched from yours

With all professionalism and manners thrown the window, you slap his hand that was cupping on your cheek away harshly, unintentionally enhancing the slap with anemo

“I see you also gained a Vision over the years.” Ayato says while grabbing his hand

“No thanks to you for breaking younger me’s heart, gaining my Vision from moving on from how you discarded my feelings is the only positive thing I’ll ever view from ever meeting you.”

For a brief second, Ayato’s expression was laced with heartbreak, this was all a simple misunderstanding

“My dea-”

“Don’t. Call. Me. That. I no longer wish to be part of your life, you clearly didn’t want to be part of mine back then anyway.”

Turning your heels and ready to bust down the door, you suddenly felt a harsh grip on your arm

“NO! I wanted to return to you that day! I wanted to marry you one day! I was forced to be away from your life!”

Stopping on your tracks and your back still facing Ayato, your anger melted away and turned into empathy and your heart was beating fast at the reminder of him purposing to you that day

Taking your silence as a sign to continue, Ayato trails his hand down your arm to grab your hand

“My flower, my mother and father had fallen terribly ill at the worst of times and their conditions only worsened until they eventually passed and I had to take over as Clan leader..” Ayato slightly chocked on his words upon talking about his parents

“I can’t express on how much I am truly sorry for leaving you without a word, but I wish you can forgive me and let us start over.”

Despite being inside the estate, it felt as if the wind was blowing

“No.”

Finally looking up to meet with Ayato’s piercing gaze, you would be lying if you said that it didn’t send shiver down your spine

“And, why would that be if I may ask?” His eyes darkened, from pleading to menacing

“Look, I can forgive you because you provided an very understandable explanation, but I have moved on a long time ago, you should too Ayato.”

“But, you promised.”

“Correction, teen me promised, I don’t pledge you jack shit.”

Silence was what was left, you were left in limbo of what to do next, you contemplated running away

Ayato then removes his glove, the one that was on the hand you hit earlier

“Do you see this? You seem to have left a nasty bruise on me, this can be considered physical assault towards me, a Yashiro Commissioner.”

‘Curses, I didn’t even mean to use my elemental powers on him...’

“Now Y/n dear, if you want no criminal charges against you, I suggest you to give away to me.”

Your mind had shut down, this was it, your life was completely butchered up thanks to this dangerous and deluded man you met years ago, regret of stepping foot in that damned forest in the first place washes over you

But, you have nothing to lose at this point minus your dignity, and you conclude that your bandmates will be ok without you

Clenching your fist, you close your eyes

‘I must make it to the docks, I’m sorry guys.’

“Well? What is your move, dea-”

With a powerful gust of wind, the ceiling collapses and causes Ayato to stumble back a few feet, the person of Ayato’s affections was gone in a puff

While covering his face with his arm, Ayato’s face hardens with shock and frustration

Fine, if it’s a game of the cat chasing the mouse, he’ll give you a game

Guards come bursting in, taken aback by the debris

“My Lord, what has happen-”

“Look for a figure that carries a Shamisen with h/c hair, I want them alive and well.”

“Understood sir.” And with that, the guards left to prepare for the search

With a sinister smile and low chuckle, Ayato covers his face with his bruised hand, brushing his lips over the marked part

“You can run my dear, but you won’t be able to hide for long.”

A/n: The y/n rizz is so strong that Ayato simped for over a decade

#genshin impact x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #genshin x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #yandere kamisato ayato

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