#and sadly work returns tomorrow

[baekuras]

it’s always fun being creative until you work on like 5 things at once so none of them get finished but you have made like half a step of progress on all of them in the past few days

[me-loving-woso]

Today. Tomorrow.

Author's note: Hi everyone! So I know I've been MIA for several months. But I'm back! This fic will be divided into 3 parts cause I've realized that I can't write a short one-shot. In no way am I an expert in medicine. The information is from Greys Anatomy and the internet. I apologise in advance if I offend anyone Summary: You never thought you'd find love under these circumstances, but sometimes, love works in mysterious ways. For you, it came in the form of Aitana Bonmatí.

TW: Illness, Cancer, Surgery, Happy Ending

You've just returned to Barcelona after being away due to your job. You were an art restorer and had established a small company with some friends from university. While you specialized in medieval and Renaissance art, your three partners specialized in Japanese art, antique jewelry, and ancient Egyptian art. Your company's diverse expertise made you wanted all around the world. 

Although managing such a company and traveling extensively at 26 was demanding, you wouldn't trade it for anything. You loved your job and your colleagues, who were also your best friends. Supporting each other through thick and thin made this life worthwhile for you.

That morning, you were driving to your next job. FC Barcelona, yes, the football club wanted you to restore and polish their trophies. They were meticulous about their trophies, and despite the unnecessary level of care, they requested your services every year to maintain them. It was lucrative work with minimal effort. Even though you weren't specialized in that type of restoration, you were willing to assist your colleague and friend with the task since you had little else to do.

As you parked near the Barcelona training grounds, about to pull up the parking brake, you heard an unpleasant sound, like glass breaking, from the back of your car. You hoped it wasn't what you feared. Taking a deep breath, you checked the other side of your car, hoping it was just your imagination. But as soon as you saw the damage and a small woman approaching you with a mortified expression, you knew the worst had happened. She had hit your car. This couldn't have happened at a worse time.

Walking up to the culprit, you were angry. She was about to speak, but you cut her off. "Sorry, miss. How many fingers am I holding up?" You politely showed her two fingers.

Looking baffled, she replied, "Two?"

"Oh, so you have eyes!" you retorted sarcastically. "I guess an SUV right in front of you was too small for you to see." Your anger was palpable.

"I'm so sorry. I-I was overthinking and didn't turn the handlebar all the way to the right," she stammered apologetically. You could see she was genuinely sorry, but in that moment, you didn't care.

"They should revoke your driver's license. You're a menace," you said, crossing your arms and returning to your car. Taking out the accident report, you said, "Let's fill out the accident report so I can be done with you." She nodded sadly and helped you complete the report.

You knew you were being unfair to her. Stuff happens, but this one was the final straw for you.

As you started filling out the report, you noticed her coming back towards you. Despite her being attractive and all, you were too mad to give a damn. Once you wrapped up your part, you handed her the report to fill out while you rang up your insurance company.

After a couple of minutes of you dialing your mechanic and finishing off the paperwork, you said goodbye to the lady and headed to the Barcelona training grounds.

While you were hanging around, you checked out all the team photos with the trophy. The left side had all the guys' photos, with Messi and the 2009 team, while the right side was all about Barcelona Femeni. Your father was a die-hard Barcelona fan; back in the day, you'd go to some games with him. But when you hit high school, you kinda lost interest in football.

As you spotted last year's Ballon d'Or picture, you suddenly recognized her, which made you laugh out loud. You had just had a small car accident with none other than the Ballon d'Or winner, Aitana Bonmatì.

You thought she looked familiar, but it didn’t really click at the time. Well, at least she's better with her feet than with a steering wheel.

When Eva finally showed up at the training grounds, you rushed over to her.

"Hey Y/n, how's it going?" she greeted.

"I'm good. Some car bumped into me about ten minutes ago, but I'm all right."

"Wait what?!" Eva exclaimed, shocked. Since she found out about your condition and all, she's been super protective. "Are you sure you're okay? Do I need to go all out on someone?"

"The damage ain't that bad. And you'll never guess who I had the run-in with."

You pointed at Aitana's photo on the wall. "Aitana Bonmatì?" Eva asked, puzzled.

"Yep."

"Well, at least she's better at kicking a ball than driving a car."

"That's what I was thinking!" you said, pumped. "Now let's get down to business."

A couple of guys from the club gave you the grand tour and hooked you up with a whole room to work in. You offered to take the trophies back to your lab, but they were set on leaving them there.

As you got everything set up, just as you were about to dive in, the bearded dude was heading out. "Just a heads up, the squad might swing by to check out your work. You know, for Instagram and stuff. Don't sweat it; it won't take too long." You gave a hesitant nod, gearing up for your first trophy. 

"Imagine if Aitana walks in here with all her teammates!" Eva quips jokingly as the two guys leave you alone. "I'd pay to see her face when she realizes it's you," she chuckles.

"I think it's the men's team. Otherwise, they would've said it," you comment, preparing your materials.

"How was meeting her?" Eva asks eagerly. She's a big fan of the women's side.

"I didn't even recognize her. I was kinda harsh, actually," you chuckle.

"Luck hasn't been on your side lately, with the car and all," she replies sadly.

"Yeah," you say, feeling a wave of emotions you'd rather not deal with. You shake it off and force a smile. "Let's focus on making some good money. I'd love to have jobs like this every day!"

You start working on Champions League and La Liga trophies. There's a lot, and as the hours pass, you feel even more exhausted.

After a couple of hours, the guy from earlier shows up. "So, the team's about to arrive. Is it okay if we film you?"

Eva looks at you, waiting for your response. "Only if I get some free advertising out of it."

He thumbs up. "I'll tag you in the story."

"You better!" you playfully retort, returning to polishing the 2005 men's Champions League trophy. You fake a smile and wait for the team to arrive.

As soon as you hear female voices, you glance at Eva and chuckle. She whispers a "I told you so" and gets back to work.

When they come in, you make eye contact with Aitana. Her smile turns to shock, then mortification. It takes all your willpower not to laugh. Out of all the people in Barcelona, she had to be the one to hit your car?

You quickly present your work, using fancy words you rarely use and explaining all the procedures. Aitana never comes near you, which makes you feel a bit sorry for her.

Once the cameras stop rolling, some of the players ask you both questions. As they're about to leave, Aitana walks up to you, apologizing awkwardly.

"I'm sorry again."

"Don't worry about it. Let's start fresh, okay?" You offer your hand, and she shakes it, smiling.

"I didn't know you worked with trophies," she adds quickly, not wanting the conversation to end.

Now that the anger has passed, you actually look at her. She's one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen, and you're a sucker for nose rings.

"I'm actually an art restorer for Renaissance art. I'm here to help my friend with this job."

"That's so cool!" She beams at you. "So, are you going to work on my Ballon d'Or trophy too?"

You glance at Eva, who nods slightly. "Yeah, but probably not until next week."

She looks at you hesitantly. "Can I be there? I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, but I'm just curious, that's all."

"Are you done rambling?" You chuckle lightly at her nervousness. She's probably still embarrassed about the accident.

"Yes, I am," she replies shyly, making you chuckle. There's something about her that draws you in, as if you were meant to be near each other.

"Of course, you can join us. It might be a bit dull for you though, since you're all about adrenaline during your football games."

"I'm just really curious, that's all. I won't bother you, I promise," she reassures you, still smiling.

"I don't think you could ever be a bother," you say before you can stop yourself, turning your head away.

"Well then, as a proper apology, can I bring you coffee tomorrow?" she offers.

"You don't have to, Aitana."

"I insist. How do you take your coffee?"

—

—

—

The next morning, you waited for Eva to pick you up for Barcelona's facilities. Since your car was at the mechanic's, she'd be giving you rides for at least a week. 

As soon as you arrived at the trophies, you got to work promptly.

"So, you think Aitana's actually gonna bring you coffee?" Eva smirks suggestively.

"I doubt it. She'll probably forget. And maybe she was just being polite," you reply, focusing on your task.

"Well, she was all smiles with you yesterday," Eva starts tentatively.

You turn to her, pausing your work. "What? What are you getting at?" you ask, eyebrows raised in exasperation.

"Maybe she wanted something more than your forgiveness. Like your attention, or an excuse to see you again," she smirks.

"You, Eva, have been reading too many romance novels lately," you chuckle, feeling defeated.

"Two is not too many!"

"We've only talked for fifteen minutes."

"Yet it was the first time I saw you smile in a month," she says, making you roll your eyes once again. You're certain Aitana was just being nice. But you can't deny she's cute. And kind. And nice.

"Eva, you know I can't," you say sadly.

"You deserve a shot at happiness too, you know."

"Yes, but I don't think a super hot football player is the answer."

"Well, maybe a super hot footballer isn't the solution, but I know one who promised you coffee," you turn your head towards the door. There she is, with three coffees on a tray, wearing a shy smile. You blush profusely, hoping she didn't overhear your conversation with Eva, but she seems unfazed, waiting for your acknowledgment.

You take a moment to compose yourself before removing your work gloves and standing up to greet her.

"Hi Aitana. Did you manage to park your car properly?" you tease.

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" She hands you your coffee and then turns to Eva. "Well, I didn't know what kind of coffee you preferred, so I just brought you the most basic and likable."

Eva looks at her baffled; neither of you expected her to bring Eva coffee or to see her again. "Oh, thank you!" Eva responds before turning back to you, the absurdity of the situation evident in your wide eyes.

She takes a sip of her own coffee, then looks at the trophy you were just working on. "Have you already worked on ours?"

"We wanted to finish the men's trophies first, then do yours next week," you explain. Eva's phone rings, and she excuses herself to take the call, as it was a work call, leaving you and Aitana alone.

“It’s El Prado, I’ll be right back.” 

You sit back down to work, and she curiously comes around the table to your side to see what you're doing. "Don't you have practice today?" you ask.

"We have a rest day," she replies. "Your colleague said El Prado called her, like the museum?"

"Yeah, I have to go touch up some paintings, maybe next month? My schedule's really busy right now."

"You do paintings too?" she asks, surprised.

"I usually only do that. I'm just helping Eva with this job. These trophies are already well taken care of; they don't really need this much attention. But I have to say, LaPorta pays really well," you joke, trying to ease the tension. She chuckles lightly. She has a cute laugh, you think.

"Well, now I'll definitely tell LaPorta!" she jokes back.

"Don't you dare!"

You joke and chat for at least another fifteen minutes. There's something about her that makes your stomach flip in ways you definitely don't want it to. She's attentive, curious, and sweet. She's confident but never boastful, which you find refreshing. 

As the minutes pass, she gradually moves closer to you, coaxing you into letting her help with your work. You gently push her away, chuckling, telling her they don't pay her to restore trophies. But she doesn't budge. She grabs a pair of gloves, picks up her chair, and places it next to yours. She sits down, and you turn to her, wide-eyed at the proximity, but soon focus back on the trophy.

She tucks a loose hair lock behind your ear, asking for your attention. You turn to her, cheeks slightly flushed. "You're distracting me, Aitana."

"Maybe that is my intention," she smirks teasingly.

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

"It's not my fault you're easily distracted. I haven't done anything. I just sat next to you and put on some gloves," she raises an eyebrow.

"And that's more than enough," you utter to yourself.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" You reply hastily, but she smiles knowingly, as if she caught you saying something you shouldn't have.

You two stare at each other, like strangers trying to solve a puzzle on each other's faces. You can't quite figure her out. She's the best footballer in the world, yet she's so much more. Still, you feel drawn to her, as if you're meant to be there with her, and she with you. 

You're probably imagining things and being delusional. You blame it on your period. The silence fills the room, becoming suffocating. It's too intense, too much.

Thankfully, Eva enters the room, and you jump back into action, focusing on the trophy again, while Aitana stares at the floor.

You look at Eva, who's already sending you a big smirk, making you roll your eyes.

Aitana stands up and walks to the door. "I really have to go now. How about tomorrow?"

"What-" 

"Okay. Bye!" And she was already out.

You turn to Eva. “Did I miss something?” She asks.

“I don’t know. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

—

—

—

"So, the blood work came back," your doctor says, settling into his chair and opening your file. "You have anemia. Until your hemoglobin levels increase, we can't proceed with the therapy. I advise you to adjust your diet to include more iron and vitamin B12-rich foods. Also, consider taking some vitamin supplements."

You nod lightly, already mentally noting a trip to the drugstore. After a final visit from the doctor, you head home.

This week has been relatively relaxed compared to your previous ones in Italy. You've been working on an undemanding job with your best friend, which couldn't have gone better. Well, maybe it did. Every day this week, she brought you coffee and lingered for at least 15 minutes to chat with you. Even with her busy training schedule, she always made time to talk. You wouldn't discuss deep topics or your condition, but you appreciated how she listened and remained interested in your life.

Occasionally, she'd flash you that beautiful smile, tempting you to throw caution to the wind and kiss away all her smirks and grins.

—

That same morning, Eva was alone at the Barcelona training grounds because you were at the doctor's office. Around 9 AM, Aitana arrived, searching for you.

"Hi, Eva. Is Y/n here?" she asks.

"Y/n isn't here today. She had a doctor's appointment. Did she forget to tell you?" Eva replies.

Aitana's face falls into a kicked puppy expression. "She did. Anyway, I wanted to give her this." She hands Eva a bag. "It's game tickets. She mentioned she's never been to a Barcelona Femení game, and I wanted to change that. Can you please give them to her?"

Eva studies her, trying to gauge her intentions. "You like her, don't you?"

"What?" Aitana's taken aback, clearly not expecting those words.

"I get it. She's a wonderful person. And stubborn. Just don't hurt her; she's already going through enough," Eva warns.

Aitana nods lightly. "I hope to see you at the stadium this weekend. Bye!" With that, she leaves.

—

Two hours later, you return to work. 

"Hey!" you greet Eva.

"Hey! How was the appointment?"

"I have anemia, among other things, so I have to wait for it to get better before starting treatment."

"That sucks. But on the bright side, your footballer came by."

Damn. You were so wrapped up in conversation with her, and also distracted by her presence the day before, that you forgot to tell her you wouldn't be at work the next day.

"I forgot to let her know I wouldn't be here today," you admit.

"I figured. I saw the disappointment on her face when she didn't see you," Eva says, overly dramatic.

"You're being dramatic," you lightly blush.

"Maybe, but she cares about you."

"She's a good friend. It's no wonder everyone likes her."

"She could be more than a friend. I think she's—"

"Again, Eva. You know I can't! Besides, do you really think a girl like her would go for a girl like me?" With every interaction, your feelings for Aitana have grown. You're ignoring them, but you know they're there. Acting on them wouldn't be fair to her. But there's an inexplicable pull that you can't control.

"Y/n, you have qualities not everyone has. If it's a worthiness issue, it's all in your head." Eva hands you the bag Aitana left.

"You know I can't be in a relationship right now."

"Why?"

"You know why. It wouldn't be fair to her."

"Then stop giving her heart eyes. It's annoying, especially when I'm trying to work," Eva chuckles.

"It's not you she's trying to distract," you admit, blushing lightly. "And I don't give her heart eyes." You pout.

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," she comments ironically. "But I get it. You've never dealt well with hot women anyway. You're just playing it cool because you're still denying your feelings."

"Stop getting inside my head! Let's get back to work."

That night, you finally open the bag. Inside is an envelope with two tickets to Saturday's game against Atletico Madrid, along with a note.

"I hope you enjoy the game! Since I know you don’t have a jersey, I thought I’d give you one of my old ones."

You pull out the jersey, from last year with the Liga F patch. You subtly smell it, convincing yourself it's not weird. Her perfume lingers, but there's also a scent that inexplicably feels like hers.

The next morning, you wake up an hour early for work. You want to finish an be earlier to surprise Aitana and apologize. Knowing she has a physio appointment ending at 10 AM, you plan to surprise her with a macha latte, just as she did for you all week.

Waiting outside the physio building feels like a terrible idea, making you regret everything. As time passes and she doesn't emerge from the building, you were about to give up. But then, after what feels like centuries, she appears. The look on her face makes it all worth it. She walks quickly to you, still wearing a cute smile.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asks.

"I wanted to apologize. I forgot to tell you about yesterday." You hand her the macha. "Plus, this week, it's my turn." You both sit on a bench.

"Is everything okay? Eva mentioned you had a doctor's appointment," she inquired, causing your brain to pause for a moment.

"Uhm, yeah! Just some anemia, but otherwise, I'm good," you fib.

"That must be tough. My mom also has anemia, but fortunately, it's not that serious," she says, switching to a more excited tone. "So, are you coming to the game on Saturday?"

"Of course," you reply, grinning at her excitement.

"You know, since I gave you the tickets, you have to wear my jersey, or they won't let you in," she teases.

"Too bad, I was planning to wear my Putellas jersey. She's the best player on the team. Plus, I love the number 11," you try to rile her up. Her smile fades, and she's about to stand up when you put down your coffee and wrap your arms around her waist to keep her on the bench. "I'm kidding!"

She sits back down, crossing her arms childishly. "I want my jersey back."

You scoot closer to her, attempting to uncross her arms, but she's surprisingly strong. "Oh no. It was a gift. Besides, I think I can get used to the number 14." Finally, you manage to uncross her arms, and she takes your hand, intertwining it with hers. Your heart begins to race as you stare at your hands together. Her voice brings you back to reality.

"I'll show you who's the best."

"I have no doubt." With your free hand, you tuck one of her locks of hair behind her ear. "And you, woman, are one of the most competitive people I know. It's concerning."

"If we win, we'll probably go out to celebrate. Do you want to come?" she asks shyly.

"I'm already going out. One of my friends wants to celebrate his birthday at a bar. Maybe next time?" you suggest.

"Definitely."

You check your watch. "I really have to go now; I need to get back to work. Same time tomorrow?"

"Bringing you coffee is my thing. Are you stealing my ideas, Y/Ln?" she hints.

"Well then, I won't have a reason to see you," you imply, stepping into unknown territory, but it feels right.

"Well, that's just your loss. Coffee's my thing. You'll just have to find another way to see me then."

"Is that a challenge? Because I can find some other excuses to see you before the match," you grin confidently.

"Like?" she asks, smiling back.

"Well, I was thinking of working on your Ballon d'Or tomorrow evening. You've been bugging me for a week, asking for my help. I'll let you work on your Ballon d'Or, if you still want to, of course."

"Oh, so you want to invite me over to do your job?" she smirks.

"Definitely. This was all planned. You didn't see that coming, did you?"

"You just broke my heart. And for a moment I thought what we had was genuine," she says dramatically, making you poke her side.

"I really have to go now. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

You walk to your car with a smile plastered on your face, feeling a tingling sensation in your hand from when she held it. You feel and sound like a horny teenager. Never in your life has a person made you feel this way, and that scares you.

—

—

The next morning, you arrived at work with a newfound excitement, which didn't escape Eva's notice.

"Why are you so happy?" she asked.

"Just the usual," you shrugged.

"Does it have something to do with your footballer?"

"She does have a name, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I've seen her more than my parents this past week. It's concerning. By the way, where is she?"

"She'll be here in the evening when we work on the Ballon d'Ors."

"Then I'll be out of your way."

"You don't have to. Nothing will happen between us, don't worry."

"Yeah, no. I've suffered enough this week. All the giggles, all the weird flirting. I'm done. Plus, you're making me feel extremely lonely."

—

Fast forward to the afternoon, you were waiting for Aitana while finishing touching up all the material. Even though the supplement for anemia gave you more energy, you had been working for six hours straight and couldn't wait to finish.

What was left was Aitana's Ballon d'Or. You hated working with gold, so you were glad this was the last thing for Barcelona. You would probably miss being here, but most importantly, you'd miss a person more.

As soon as she came in, you noticed she was still dressed in Barcelona sweats.

"Hey! Did you just finish training?" you asked.

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"Tiring. I didn't know you wore glasses." She put your glasses on herself.

"You are definitely blind. I remember you asking me if I was blind when we first met. I guess coming from you, it's even funnier," she teased, earning a poke to the side.

You rolled your eyes. "I had contacts on. What's your excuse?"

She showed you her tongue. "Do I look like an art restorer now?" she fake bragged.

"You are way too fit for anything to do with art," you chuckled, gently removing your glasses from her face.

"Hey! I do, in fact, love everything to do with art. I'm here; that should mean something."

"Being friends with an art restorer doesn't change the fact that you're for sports, while I'm for the visual arts."

"Maybe that's why we get along."

"Maybe." You handed her a pair of gloves, which she excitedly put on. "You're getting very excited for this. Working with gold is very boring."

She shrugged. "I'm working with Spain's best art restorer; it's a privilege," she teased.

"I'm far from being the best," you denied shyly.

"I looked you up, you know. Youngest woman to own an art restoring company, you travel the world because everyone wants you. What more can you do?" she insisted confidently.

"You're the best player in the world. Last year, you won everything. What more can you do?" you flipped the conversation.

"I'm far from being the best. I still have to improve," she repeated your words.

"To me, you are the best, if that means something," you admitted, making her turn to you with a big smile on her face.

"Well, I thought Alexia was your favorite player; you claimed that you love the number 11," she raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Well, I told you that I could get used to a 14 on my back. Plus, she didn't bring me coffee for an entire week just to see me. Lame, I might add," you teased her, making her blush.

"Shut up! You loved it," she said shyly, hiding her face away from you.

"Yeah, I really did... Now let's get started."

For the next half-hour, you taught Aitana a part of your work, filling your heart with joy at her curiosity. Whenever you guided her hands, Aitana would send you a look that you couldn't quite explain. It was intense and riveting, making you internally combust.

She was sitting so close to you; you could smell her perfume and shampoo. Your eyes focused on her, and she lightly stuck out her tongue, which you found extremely cute and distracting. As you gently took her hands, you could feel her calluses even with gloves on, you showed her a movement she had to do.

"Thank you for letting me help you," she said shyly, and you gently squeezed her hands.

"No problem. Plus, it's your Ballon d'Or," you shared a quick, soft look. "Actually, you're doing me a favor. Working with gold is my least favorite thing to do. You made it a little more tolerable."

"I'm glad to hear that," she chuckled. "I hope I didn't distract you too much from your work this week," she confessed insecurely. Insecurity didn't suit her well.

"Did you distract me? Yes," her face fell a little. “Do I care? No. We wouldn't be here now," you reassured her, and she lightly nodded in response. "So, on Saturday, I'll have to find ways to distract you from the game, so then we'll be even," you bumped her shoulder playfully.

"I never get distracted," she said confidently. You were glad to see her back to her confident self.

"Is that a challenge?" you raised your eyebrows.

"No challenge. It's a fact."

"Are we back to being all confident now?" you smirked playfully. "Well, now I'll definitely make it my main goal for Saturday to be able to distract you."

"And how do you plan to do that?" she turned to you defiantly.

"My master plan will be divided into plan A, which I still have to devise, and plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I kinda do?"

"Too bad," you chuckled playfully.

It was 6 PM when you decided to go home. You had stayed with Aitana for more than three hours, but strangely enough, it felt like thirty minutes. You had discovered a new side of her that you couldn't get enough of.

She was different in real life from when she was on the pitch—still driven and determined, but also funny, kind, and gentle. She cared about so many things and was so busy, yet she had time to be with you for more than three hours. 

She loved books and days spent at the beach. Her passion for football encompassed her whole life, and you admired how passionate she was about her work.

She reminded you of yourself and your love for art. When you asked her about her favorite books, you were surprised when she replied with nerdy titles. Looks could be deceiving; Aitana Bonmatí was a bit of a nerd, and you loved it.

She walked you back to your car with your bag on her shoulder, insisting that it was too heavy. As you reached your car door, you quickly turned to her. "So I'll see you on Saturday?"

"Definitely."

"Don't leave without saying goodbye, okay?" you couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, boss," this time, you received a poke on the ribs. "Ow!"

"Thank you for today. I really had fun. I thought working with gold was going to be more boring."

"It wasn't, thanks to you," you wanted to hug her. No, you felt the necessity to do so. Unceremoniously, you brought her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her neck and drawing her closer. After the initial shock, she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you tighter. The hug lasted longer than necessary, but neither of you wanted to let go.

There was a pull that made you not want to leave her embrace. It was comforting, and even if you didn't realize it at the time, you really needed it. After some time, you broke off the hug, said your final goodbye, and left for home.

—

Upon arriving home, you noticed a light emanating from the living room. Initially startled, you thought it might be an intruder. However, upon entering, you found your annoying brother standing there with his arms crossed.

"Jesus Christ! I thought you were a burglar! Idiot!" you exclaimed, smacking his arms in frustration.

"Hi to you too, sis," he responded with a smirk.

"Why didn't you call me?" you asked, placing your bag on the floor before embracing him.

"I needed to talk to you, and I knew you'd find an excuse not to see me," he explained.

"You live in Manchester!"

"I'm back. Got transferred back to Barcelona."

"For good?" you inquired eagerly. Ciro, your brother, was one of the best sports physiotherapists globally, having worked with Man City for almost two years.

"Yeah, got a call from Barcelona. You know I can't say no to that. Plus, I really wanted to be home," he replied.

He towered over you, twenty centimeters taller, with medium-length wavy hair that made heads turn. You both represented the opposite ends of two worlds—you loved art, he loved sports.

"I'm glad you're back," you said warmly, stepping back from the hug.

"Now, why did I have to hear from Mom that you were sick?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"Ciro, I wanted to tell you, but you were busy with work. I really didn't want to worry you."

"You should've told me," he said sadly. "I would've been there. Could've come sooner."

"And do what? I'll start my treatment next week. There's not much you can do."

"I can be there for you. We made a deal to always stick together. You're my older sister, you've always been there for me. The least I could do is to be there for you," he insisted. You sighed sadly, realizing he was right. You should've told him. Perhaps you wanted to protect him, or maybe you feared that acknowledging your illness would make it too real.

"Did you come home because of me?" you asked tentatively, hoping for a different answer.

"As much as Man City pays, Barcelona is my home. And I really missed my sister."

"You're such a suck-up! What do you need?" you teased.

"Well, now that you ask... I might need a place to stay."

Rolling your eyes, you replied, "You can take the guest room."

After settling his stuff in the guest room, you both decided on pizza for dinner. He insisted you make the call, but you refused, playfully tossing his phone back to him. As soon as he returned, you sat on the couch to catch up on each other's lives. It had been months since you'd seen each other, and despite your reluctance to admit it, you missed him.

"Are you also working with Barca Femeni, or only the men's side?" you asked.

"I still don't know. Definitely covering all the home games and the key players if they're injured. Unsure about the away games."

"I have tickets to Saturday's game for the women's side if you want to come," you offered.

"I'll probably have to cover that game, being the first one," he replied with a suggestive smirk. "Why do you have tickets for a football match? Weren't you against 'the sports'?" he teased, using air quotes.

Blushing lightly, you retorted, "I never said I was 'against the sports.' I just prefer books to football games."

"Then why the sudden interest in watching a football match?" His face lit up. "Is it for a girl?" he asked excitedly.

"No girl!" you insisted, though thoughts of Aitana flickered in your mind. "Just felt like it."

"Then why are you smiling?" he persisted, tossing a pillow your way.

"No particular reason," you lied.

"Okay. You'll tell me when you're ready," he said with a knowing smile.

—

—

Fast forward to Saturday, and Ciro settled into his new job quickly. He primarily worked with the men’s side, working on Gavi and Balde, the most serious injuries at the moment.

On Saturday, he was to finally meet the women’s side in preparation for the game. Patri was the first to arrive, followed by Pina and Bruna. Aitana was the last, there for additional ankle support.

Upon seeing Ciro, Aitana gave him a strange look, as if he reminded her of someone.

"Hello?" Ciro greeted, puzzled by her expression.

Quickly snapping out of it, Aitana apologized, "Oh, hi, sorry! You kinda looked like someone familiar. I apologize if I gave you a weird look." Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "I’m Aitana."

"Hi. I’m Ciro. I’m the new physio. What can I do for you?" he responded.

During their time together, Ciro realized that Aitana was very chatty about nerdy things like books and coffee places—things that reminded him of you and how well you two would get along.

"You said you just came back from Man City, right?" Aitana asked.

"Yes, I did," Ciro replied.

"Did you know that the first atom was split there?" she commented, making Ciro chuckle. She would really get along with you.

"I think you’d be friends with my sister. She said the same thing when I left to go there," Ciro remarked.

"I guess it’s common knowledge," Aitana stated confidently.

"No, it’s not. But I’ll reply the same way I replied to my sister: who cares about atoms, when Manchester is home to the annual World Pie Eating Championship," Ciro chuckled.

"You got a girlfriend there?" Aitana asked unexpectedly.

Blinking at the question, Ciro replied with a crooked smirk, "Why, are you interested?" It was playful banter, no ulterior motives.

Raising her hands defensively, Aitana replied, "Nope, you’re not really my type."

"Then I should really introduce you to my sister," Ciro teased.

"Nah, I’m already interested in someone else. I’m sorry," Aitana smiled brightly.

"Too bad," Ciro finished up her ankle. "You’re all set. I’m sorry if this conversation was unprofessional. Please don’t report it to the club," he added with a tense smile.

"Don’t worry. We were just talking. But I do have to say, the more I see you, the more you look like a person I know," Aitana observed.

"Well, I hope they are great. I don’t want to leave a bad impression," Ciro replied.

"She’s wonderful," Aitana said before heading to the pitch.

—

—

Meanwhile, you were getting ready with Eva to go to the Estadi Johan Cruyff.

"So your brother’s back in town for good?" Eva asked.

"Yeah, he’s currently crashing at my apartment until he gets a flat of his own. Feels like we’re back to being teenagers living together for Uni," you replied, putting on Aitana’s shirt and giving it a subtle sniff.

"How’s that going?" Eva raised her eyebrows.

"So far, so good. She’s my friend," you reassured her.

"So, you told her about your condition, right?" Eva asked sternly.

You fell silent. "I’ve been meaning to! I just haven’t found the time yet."

"You need to tell her," Eva urged.

"I know. Let me just ignore it for a little longer," you replied hesitantly.

"She won’t go away, you know that?" Eva reassured you.

"I don’t care about that. We’ve only met three weeks ago. I don’t have some sick attachment issues, okay? I... I just really care about her," you admitted.

"I know you do. Or else we wouldn’t be going to a football game just to see her," Eva said with a smile.

—

At the Estadi Johan Cruyff, Aitana had secured great seating spots for you. As they warmed up, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. When she spotted you in the crowd, her face lit up with a huge smile, and she excitedly waved at you.

The game started quickly, with Aitana making a significant impact on the field. Her passing was precise, and she dribbled past opponents effortlessly. 

In the first 15 minutes, she had already made an assist and nearly scored a goal. At the thirtieth minute, she scored a remarkable goal from outside the box, prompting you to cheer loudly.

However, the next action worried you. A harsh tackle left Aitana clutching her ankle in pain. Thankfully, your brother quickly tended to her, and she was able to continue playing, albeit with some discomfort. At halftime, Ciro was still with Aitana, leaving you concerned. But what concerned you more was that she didn’t return for the second half, replaced by another player.You quickly sent a text to Ciro, hoping he’d see it.

**You:** Where are you?

**Ciro:** I’m at work, idiot. You saw me.

**You:** I know, but right now? Is everything okay with Aitana?

**Ciro:** Yes, why? Why are you so concerned?

**You:** She’s my friend. Can I come and see her?

Aitana was perched on the physio bed, visibly annoyed that they’d taken her off at half-time.

“Hey, Aitana,” Ciro turned to her, puzzled by her behavior, away from his phone. “How do you know my sister?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Who’s your sister?”

“Y/n?” He stated, as if it were obvious.

“Like Y/n Y/ln? You’re his brother?”

“Yeah!”

“I didn’t know that! She never mentioned she had a brother. That’s why you looked like her!”

“She wants to come and see you. I can’t let her in, but you can if you want.”

Aitana blushed lightly, a fact Ciro noted but didn’t comment on. Internally, she thanked him for it.

“Yeah, of course she can come if she likes.”

He smirked knowingly, making her blush again. “I’ll go get her. Then we’ll have a small talk on how you have the hots for my sister,” he teased, leaving the room.

As soon as you saw Ciro in the hallway, you understood immediately that he had something in mind.

“Since when do you know Aitana Bonmatì?”

“Since I worked on her Ballon d’Or. We’ve become friends.”

“Only that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Ciro. Only that.”

“Doesn’t seem like it. You are way too worried.”

“Shut up,” you smacked his stomach hard, making him whine. “And not a word about this around her, understood?”

“Can I say one thing?”

“Then you’ll shush?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“She’s really nice and chatty. I get why you like her. Plus, she’s really hot, not to mention your type?”

“You really want me to get violent on you?” You hit him again.

“Ow!”

“You deserved it.”

“You didn’t deny it though…” You hit him again, this time harder. “This one was my fault. I take it back.”

You both reached the door to the physio room. “Now get back to work, Ciro.”

“So bossy! I hope Aitana likes this side of you!” He teased, and you replied with a glare that clearly said, "I’m going to hit you." Your patience was really getting tested. “Bye!” He quickly left to get back on the pitch, while you opened the door.

—

She was sitting still on the physio bed, with some ice on her ankle, still dressed for the match, and lightly pouting.

“Hey,” as soon as she turned to you, she brightened up.

“Hey!” You approached her. “How’s your ankle?”

You took her in, noticing she looked exhausted even though she only played for 45 minutes. Even though you saw her play, you were glad they let her rest.

“It’s good. They took me off for ‘precautionary measures,’” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re healthy,” you replied, turning around to show her you were wearing her jersey.

She grabbed both sides of the jersey and dragged you in between her legs. “You have it on!” she said excitedly.

“Of course! I only wear the best! Great game, by the way,” you lightly caressed her thigh, next to her knee, to give her some reassurance. “You scored a banger!”

“Thank you. I’d rather have played more, though,” she pouted, making you smile at her cuteness. “By the way, what was your secret plan to make me distracted?”

You chuckled lightly, completely forgetting. “Plan A was to distract you just by my presence,” you bragged jokingly, making her giggle and earning you a poke in the ribs.

“That’s not true. You just didn’t think of anything to distract me with,” she said confidently.

“Maybe.”

“What was plan B, then?”

“Becoming a pitch invader or just flashing you,” you said dramatically.

“I would’ve definitely loved to see that,” she gave you a playful smirk, lightly gripping your waist a little harder.

You chuckled, smacking the back of her head. Then, you looked at her properly, changing the mood of the conversation. Her eyes looked so tired. “You look exhausted. You still have the elastic band in your hair. Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“I’m just too lazy to take it off,” she confessed bluntly.

You rolled your eyes and then gently took it off her. “There you go. Do you want me to take out your ponytail too?” You looked into her eyes once again.

“You don’t have to. I can do it on my own,” she said shyly.

“I know you can, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to be near you.”

Her face softened, making you melt like chocolate under the sun. She nodded slowly, and you sprang into action. Taking a step closer, you gently took off the elastic band and looped it around your wrist. You scratched her scalp a little, making her release a relaxed sigh. Chuckling lightly, you took a step back to give her some space. As you were about to take another step, she quickly grabbed you, bringing you even closer to her. Swallowing some of the tension, you realized she was in control now and wanted you closer. You quickly looked at her lips, then back to her powerful gaze.

“You don’t have to find an excuse to be closer to me. I always want you near me all the time,” you tucked your head down to hide your blush, not wanting to show her how much those words had affected you. She gently grabbed your chin and raised it to her level.

“Don’t hide from me. I love it when you blush,” she teased.

“Stop doing that,” your face flushed again.

“Doing what?”

“Being all confident and so close to me. It’s distracting.”

She smirked in response. “Maybe that’s the effect I want you to feel. I’ll let you go if you feel uncomfortable,” she reassured you.

You replied by simply placing your hands on the sides of her face, playing lightly with her baby hair.

“We’ve been skirting around it for two weeks now. Don’t you feel the same pull towards me that I have with you? It’s consuming, and it feels so good,” she admitted.

It was intense, obliterating in a sense, yet you couldn’t resist it. You hated not feeling in control. Acting upon these feelings wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I feel it too,” you removed your hands from her and took a step back, seeing her expression change. You could feel her disappointment. “So much. But I can’t,” you sighed defeatedly. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Why?” she asked vulnerably. “Do you have a secret boyfriend or something?”

You took a deep breath and decided to tell her. She deserved to know. You couldn’t continue like this.

“Aitana, I have ca—”

The door opened, and the entire team barged in. You subconsciously took another step back and let the team swarm Aitana. They were checking up on her, but her eyes never left yours.

“Hey, you’re the art restorer!” Patri pointed out.

You quickly changed your demeanor to something more cheerful. “Yes, I just came in to say hi to Aitana. I was just about to leave. I’ll see you.”

You quickly left to reunite with Eva and then headed home.

—

Later that night, you were going to a club to celebrate your colleague Pablo’s birthday, but for you, it was also the last party before you had to start your treatment.

The whole thing with Aitana earlier that day had left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like an asshole and couldn’t shake the feeling that things could have gone better between the two of you.

Realising that you never asked for her phone number and that you had finished your work for the club, you concluded that you probably wouldn’t see her again.

So when you left for the beach bar with your friends, you decided to indulge in some vodka. Eva didn’t question it. She knew that sometimes, when you were out with your friends, you stopped being the responsible one and drank more than usual to have some fun. Pablo and Eva always made fun of you because you never had filters and would always create chaos, but you never went overboard.

You were in the middle of the night, two drinks in, and you started telling your friends that you loved them. They only chuckled in response. You alternated between depressing states and euphoric ones, making Eva, who was also intoxicated, extremely confused.

The whole night shifted again when you saw a group of girls entering the bar, including the one girl you thought you’d never see again. As soon as she saw you, she tried to approach you. She wanted to talk about the conversation you had earlier that day, but you tried to drunkenly escape the conversation. It did not work.

A few moments later, you were met with her standing in front of you while you were sitting down at the bar stools. She saw that you were drunk, and her serious appearance faded for a moment. 

“Can we—Are you drunk?” she asked.

“Yep,” you confessed without even trying to hide it. “What are you doing here?”

“We are out celebrating the win. What are you doing here?”

“The birthday party,” you slurred. She had her nose ring on. You loved it when she wore it. “You have your nose ring on. I really like it,” you tried to raise your hand to touch it, but she quickly stopped you.

“How much did you drink?” she asked, concerned.

“Not that much. Why are you so serious? I don’t like it when your face scrunches up.”

She chuckled at your drunkenness. “You are so drunk. I’ll take you home.”

“Nooo. You just got here, plus my friends are about to leave,” you protested.

“It’s no biggie. You need to get home to sleep it off.”

“I think I should. On Monday, I have my first treatment. I shouldn’t feel hungover,” you blurted out.

“You have your first what?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“What?”

“A kiss. You know, the ones you give to a person with the lips,” you explained, while she slowly took your hand and led you out of the bar.

“I know what a kiss is. I don’t think I should give you a kiss, given your current state. And the fact that a few hours ago you rejected me.” You were out now.

“Wait. Why are we outside?”

“I’m taking you home.” She states.

“You tricked me. You are one little sneaky son of a bitch.” You pout, making her laugh.

“You drunk, is the highlight of my day.”

“That’s so sad.” You cover your mouth with your hand childishly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She giggles in response. “I still want a kiss from you. And I want to you to know that I didn’t in fact reject you. I just told you that I can’t.” You specify.

She leads you to her car without you realizing it. “I hope you are not one of those people who takes me to their car and then try to kill me.” She opens the car door and helps you inside.

She buckles your seatbelt, and due to the closeness, you blurt out. “You are very beautiful. The most perfect face.”

She chuckles, lightly shaking her head. “You are very beautiful too.” She gives you a quick kiss on the temple and round the car to get to the driving seat.

“Was it that difficult to give me a kiss?” You ask her rhetorically, making her roll her eyes at you.

“Can you tell me your address?” She sat down on the driver’s seat and gently turned your head towards her to get some attention.

“I don’t wanna go home. My brother is there.” You whine. “Let’s go to the beach.” You say excitedly. 

“Y/n you are drunk. If you don’t tell me your address I’ll bring you to my home.” Aitana tells you seriously. 

“Is that an invite?” You smirk suggestively.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Y/n.” 

“Calm down. I was just joking!” You grinned.

“I should probably text Eva.” You sober up and sent her, very slowly, a text.

**You** I’m going hmoe with hot footballer. See you on mnoday. I’m drukn but I love you.

The drive pretty much sobered you up. You were still blabbering nonsense to Aitana, talking to her about the most random things. When you arrived, you quickly noticed that you weren’t in your apartment complex.

“I knew it. You brought me here to kill me,” you said, fed up.

“We are at my home.”

You opened the car door and got out before she could help you. “This whole building is your house?!” you said, shocked, while she quickly walked up to you.

“No, you idiot. I have an apartment,” she giggled lightly.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you? Getting to see me like this.”

“I am definitely enjoying this. Too bad I can’t make any videos of you like this,” she said, placing a hand behind your back to stabilize you until you got to her apartment.

You curiously wandered around her living room, taking in her home. It was just like her. Every decoration, every piece of furniture reflected her in some way, only something was missing.

“You should get some artwork to fill up the walls. Your house is beautiful, Aitana.”

“Thank you. I guess you can definitely help with that, don’t you think?”

“Not in this condition.” You sat on the couch, while you waited for her to join you.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Not with you like this, tomorrow morning?” she offered, but you weren’t on board with that.

So, with a swift movement, you sat on her lap, taking Aitana by surprise. You placed her hands on your waist and blurted out. “I’ll talk then. I really like you, but I can’t be with you right now. The connection you feel between us is so real and intense that it scares me. You have been one of my biggest blessings in disguise since you came into my life.”

“I’d rather talk about this when you’ll remember it, but I really like you, and I would like to know why we can’t be together.”

You were sober enough to stop yourself from telling her the truth. “I’ll tell you tomorrow morning, I promise.”

You gently rubbed her shoulders, feeling all her muscles, making you giggle.

“What?” she asked, tickling you for a second or two. She was back to being her unserious self, and her crinkle disappeared. Probably it was because she knew that you were safe now.

“You are so muscular.” You squeezed her biceps. “If we were in a zombie apocalypse, would you protect me from all the zombies? You go fend off our enemies while I do the housewife and part-time art restorer. Maybe zombies make art, who knows?”

“Okay, I will,” she indulged you.

“You promise?” You asked her seriously.

“Yes.”

“Pinky promise?” You raised your pinky, and she laced it with hers. “Now it’s sealed.”

“Let’s go to bed,” she spurred you to stand up and walked you to her bedroom. She quickly gave you some spare clothes to change, leaving the room for you to have some privacy. She gave you some Barcelona shorts and one of her old t-shirts.

Somehow, every item had her typical perfume, and that special something that was characteristically hers. You were now a little more sobered up, which made you less chatty and with some inhibitions.

As you opened the door of her bedroom to see where she was, you saw that she was getting the couch ready to sleep.

“Aitana, come to bed. I can take the couch. You already did more than enough for me today.”

“It’s no biggie,” she shrugged.

“No, it’s a big biggie.” You walked up to her and literally dragged her into her own bedroom. “You take the bed.”

“Then we’ll both take it.”

“We can do that.” You waited for her to take her usual side, then you climbed on the other side. She turned off the light, and you moved to your side to face her. “Thank you for tonight. You didn’t have to, but you still took care of me. You are truly one of the most amazing people I know.”

She kissed your forehead. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

She laid on her back, making you subconsciously go near her as much as possible, until you looped your arm around her waist and cuddled into her. In response, she gave you another kiss on the temple and nuzzled into you.

—

—

The next morning, you woke up with a headache. An arm was keeping you down, and as you opened your eyes, confusion swept over you.

Aitana was still softly sleeping on your side. Memories of last night flooded back into your mind. You guessed that she felt you stir awake because not even a minute after you had woken up, she woke up too.

“Good morning,” she said gently, moving away from you and sitting up, quickly stretching herself. You basically mimicked her movements on the other side of the bed and followed her to the living room.

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Definitely,” you replied, sitting down at her kitchen table. “Can I have a glass of water? My head is killing me.” She quickly retrieved it for you and got back to preparing the coffee. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable last night.”

“You didn’t. I’ve thought about what you told me yesterday: that you can’t be with me because it wouldn’t be fair to me. I think… no, I’m certain, that we can work it out together,” she said hopefully. She was still standing when you chuckled sadly.

“Aitana, you don’t know how much I’d want that. But being with me right now isn’t worth it, and I won’t ask you to wait for me because that wouldn’t be fair to you,” you admitted sadly.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Whatever it is, we can—”

“Aitana, I have cancer.”

Now she sat down. “You told me you had anemia,” she said defensively, not really believing you.

“I do also have anemia. That’s why I’ll start chemo so late from the diagnosis,” you released a sigh.

“Is—is it curable?” she almost whispered, almost not knowing how to take the news.

“Thankfully, I found out early about the tumor. The doctors said a 70% success rate.”

“Where is it?”

“Thyroid cancer. It’s a little bump next to my vocal cords.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she pleaded, almost offended.

“Because...I didn’t want you to see me in a different way,” you confessed as your voice cracked vulnerably.

“I could never see you in a bad light. You are a fighter, Y/n, remember it.”

“Do you understand why I can’t be with you?”

“Yes, and I call it bullshit,” she remarked determinedly.

“What—”

“You know, statistics say that only 30% of relationships last the first year. You literally have more hope to live than us being together.”

“And so?”

“And so, why are you denying us to yourself?”

“Maybe because in the next month, all my hair will fall off, I’ll be as weak as I’ll ever be, and I won’t be able to work anymore?” you said sarcastically. “Do you really want a girlfriend like that?”

“I want you, Y/n. We’ll just have to go through the bad times first before the good parts.”

“You know, Aitana Bonmatì, you are one stubborn woman. You never stop until you get what you want, huh?”

She nodded confidently.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to give you an out? For God’s sake, I have cancer! I might die, and I don’t want you to ruin your life to take care of me. I can’t be that selfish. I care about you way too much!” you replied exasperated, still with your head pounding.

She rounded the table and knelt down next to your legs, taking your hands. “It’s not a decision you can make for me. If you won’t let me be there for you as your girlfriend, then I’ll be there for you as a friend. For the record, I care about you too. And even if you already have Eva and Ciro, I won’t let you go through this alone.”

“We could never be friends, you know that?” you gently caressed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch.

“I know. But you are in control, okay? Let me just be there for you, please,” she practically begged you in the last part. You made her stand up while you thought for a moment.

“You won’t surrender, will you?” Your face adorned with a sad smile, while she shook her head. “I’m just a stranger, Aitana.”

“You are way more than that, and you know it,” she paused for a second. “You would do the same for me.” You nodded. You’d probably do worse if you found out that she had cancer.

"Let's take things slow, okay?" you concede, rising from your seat and placing your coffee cup on the table. "I should probably go home. Tomorrow I start chemotherapy, and I should probably rest," you say with a tinge of sadness. Making your way to Aitana's room, you change back into your clothes. After about five minutes, there's a knock on the door.

She slowly opens it. "Do you need me to drive you home? It's no biggie," she offers.

You nod slowly. "Can I come with you for your chemo?" she asks, her voice tentative, not wanting to overstep.

"I don't want you to see me like that," you explain, seeing her disappointment. "But maybe you could come and pick me up afterwards? We can go to lunch somewhere," you suggest.

"I'd love that," she replies with a small smile. "By the way! I think it's time for you to give me your phone number! I still can't believe we haven't exchanged numbers," she chuckles, and you hand her your phone.

She bursts into a giggle, sending you a knowing smirk. "I'm glad to hear that Eva is happy you went home with a hot ass footballer. The next part of the text, it's better that I don't say," she teases, causing you to blush profusely.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, covering your face with your hands.

"Oh no. I love it," she counters, smirking confidently as she tosses your phone back to you. As you unlock it to read Eva's texts, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

**Eva** Fucking finally!

Now go and sex up that hot ass footballer!

"Damn it!" you exclaim, exasperated, prompting a chuckle from Aitana.

The drive back home is mostly silent. As she stops right next to your door, you're unsure how to bid her goodbye. It's been a heavy morning for both of you, and you need time to process everything. You had intended to push her away, give her an out. But she refused to give up, surprising you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right? You'll text me?" she asks, her voice tinged with insecurity.

You reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tani. Thank you for everything." With that, you exit the car and wave one last time before entering your home.

Sitting on the couch with a sad expression, you stare at the turned-off TV. You feel awful, like you've made Aitana feel awful. Groaning loudly, you bury your face in your pillow.

Ciro emerges from the guest room, eyeing you. "Rough night?" he asks.

"I told her," you confess.

He sits next to you and pulls you into a hug. "Did it go badly?"

"No, I guess. Is it bad if I wish she had just told me to get out of her life?"

"No," he replies, rubbing your back soothingly. "But I'm glad she'll stick around."

—

Meanwhile, Aitana returns home and collapses on the couch, her face turned toward the wall. She lets out a light but painful sob.

"Damn it."

In the afternoon of the same day she found out of your cancer, she had a recovery session at Barcelona. For the first time ever, she just wanted to stay home.

Despite being off during all her training, her teammates didn’t ask what was going on, as she's not one to let her emotions affect her play. But that day, she was anything but focused. Ciro noticed and approaches her during a water break.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi, Ciro," she greets him, trying to hide her emotions.

"You good?"

"I'm good. Just tired."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" Aitana nods and rejoins her teammates.

"When did you become friends with the physio? Are you over the Art Restorer?" Keira asks.

"Her name is Y/n, and that's her brother," Aitana replied emotionless.

"The hot gene really does run in their family," Patri remarks, earning a smack from Keira.

—

—

Your first chemo treatment isn't as bad as you feared. Your energy isn't drained at all; in fact, you're super alert, probably because of the steroids.

Aitana arrives half an hour early and joins you in the hospital treatment room.

You're nearly finished; you just have to complete the saline shot.

"Hey, how are you?" Aitana enters the room and gives you a quick hug before sitting beside you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't happy to see her. Her smile melts away your worries in an instant. She's here, and that's enough to lift your spirits.

"I'm nearly done. How's training?" you ask.

"It's good. We worked on free kicks and rondos, so some light stuff. I brought you some snacks," she says, handing you dried fruits and nuts. "I read that the first chemo might make you feel drowsy, and since you also have anemia, I brought you some food with iron."

You smile softly, thanking her with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Tani." Opening the bag, you search for some almonds. "I hate raisins," you remark.

"Just give them to me," she offers, and you quickly pass all the raisins to her as you eat the rest. "I don't know how you like raisins," you say, giving her a disgusted look.

"They're just fruit," she chuckles.

"How was the treatment? Do you feel sick?" she asks, worry evident in her voice.

"For now, no, probably because of the steroids. I should bring something to do next time," you say, your gaze softening. "About yesterday, we're good, right? I felt like we left each other on a bitter note.”

"It's okay. It was a pretty intense day. Let's just move forward, okay? So, I'm thinking... Let's go get some food, then we'll start our DreamWorks/Disney marathon. What do you say?"

For the past two weeks, the two of you had been discussing doing a movie marathon, and since you both liked kids' movies, you settled on that. However, there was one point of contention: she argued that Disney movies were better, while you favored DreamWorks. So the two of you had started arguing about which was best, and the winner was yet to be decided.

"I'm feeling great! We don't have to barricade ourselves in one of our homes. We can go to the beach and maybe take a walk," you offer, not wanting to confine her to spending the entire day indoors with you, knowing she's a very active person.

"Oh no! We have to finally settle this debate! It's been going on for too long now! Plus, you're going to need all the rest you can get, and I don't mind keeping you company," she insists.

"Are you sure?" You check once again.

"Yes, I'm sure," she reassures you.

—

Her idea proves to be right because as soon as you get home, you feel the steroids wearing off, with a sudden tiredness enveloping your body. As you drive to your home to start the movie marathon, Aitana notices almost immediately, quickly taking your hand and gently squeezing it, not letting go until you arrive.

"Your home is so full of books! I love it," she says excitedly as she steps inside your house.

"I love reading, and I have a college degree and currently doing my second specialization. I guess I have been the culprit of the death of some trees," you joke.

You fetch your grandma's blankets that she knitted for you, then return to the living room.

Aitana is already sitting on the couch with her arms open, waiting for you. Despite wanting to be held by her, you fear she might feel uncomfortable, so you sit on the opposite side.

She looks at you quizzically and then drags you to lay on top of her. You release a content sigh and proceed to hug her sides, fully taking in her body against yours. "Didn't you get the memo? From now on, I'll be your designated cuddle buddy," she giggles.

"Oh my god! How stupid! I completely forgot!" you joke.

She holds you tighter as you search for a movie to watch together, settling on "The Little Mermaid." You start to drift off, only remembering a faded kiss on the temple and a whispered, "You rest. I'll be here when you wake up, mi sirenita."

Approximately an hour later, Ciro returns home after spending the day with the men's team. He's really worried about you and how the treatment went, but he doesn't expect what he sees. You're lightly sleeping on top of Aitana, while she watches a movie on TV.

"Hey," he whispers.

Aitana's head shoots up to look at him. "Hey. She just fell asleep; the drugs wore off, and she got tired."

He smiles softly at the sight of his sister with someone who cares enough to be with her, even while she's sleeping. "How are you feeling?" he asks her.

"Oh, I'm good. She let me come inside while she finished up her treatment, and we had lunch at that place she always talks about."

"I'm glad she lets you be with her. She's stubborn, but don't give up. She'll come around," he reassures her.

She looks at you. "I really hope so," then turns back to Ciro. "Oh, you should text Eva! Y/n told me that she would text her, but I guess she forgot; she might be worried." Hearing all of this chatter, you stir awake, still drowsy.

"Tani, where is all this sound coming from?" you asked her groggily, still keeping your eyes closed.

"Ciro is here," she informed you.

"Hi Ciro," you lightly waved at him, then cuddled up against Aitana once again.

"Hey, how was chemo?"

"Tiring," you replied.

"I can see," he chuckled.

You raised your arm to show him the middle finger. "Okay! I'll wake you up later; you have to call mom."

You grunted at the thought. "Okay, okay. But now let me sleep."

"Do you want to go to bed?" Aitana asked you.

"You are too comfortable!" you replied.

"Why don't we go to bed? We'll be even more comfortable," she giggled.

"Okay," you slowly removed yourself from her and walked with her to your bedroom.

As soon as Aitana laid down on the bed, you resumed the same position as before. You indeed were more comfortable.

"You are the best cuddle buddy, Tani. Thank you." You gave her a kiss on the corner of her lips and fell back into a deep slumber.

—

Approximately an hour later, you woke up. You patted your bed to find Aitana, but she wasn't there. You quickly got out of bed, feeling a little better, and went to the living room to get a cup of water. In the kitchen, you found Ciro.

"Where's—"

"She left about five minutes ago; she had to do some media stuff with Barcelona, and she didn't want to wake you," he explained.

—

—

For the next two weeks, you had fallen into a routine. Whenever you had chemotherapy, Aitana would take you back for lunch away from the hospital, and sometimes you would take small walks together or watch movies if you were extra tired. In those two weeks, you had gotten a chance to know her better. The more you talked to her, the more you couldn't picture yourself without her. 

She was incredible. But most importantly, you loved how she made you feel. She was always so supportive, never failing to make you smile, but most importantly, she was ever-present.

Eva and Ciro would tease you so much because whenever she was around, you became a completely different person: nicer and more compliant. However, the mood from the first two weeks changed when you started losing hair.

You never really gave much thought to your hair; it was long and wavy, and honestly, you never thought about how being bald would actually make you feel. When single locks of hair started falling out, it was really a punch into reality. You had cancer, and your hair was falling out. Still, you didn't tell Ciro or Eva about it, and especially not to Aitana.

You were currently cuddling up next to her while she gently caressed your back. You had just finished your treatment for the week, and you were more exhausted than usual. Your throat was hurting, and your legs were aching as if you had just run a marathon. Aitana was rambling on about a book she started reading that you suggested.

"It's actually so good, no wonder you have great tastes in books," she lightly praised you, giving you a kiss on the scalp. She then tucked your hair behind your ear, but the lock remained in her hand.

"Since when have you been losing hair, Y/n?" she asked softly.

You moved away from her and sat on the couch, realizing that you had just lost another lock of hair. "It's been a week now," you uttered sadly. "Let's just not think about it, okay? I don't want to talk about it," you got defensive.

One thing that you didn't want was for Aitana to see you actually sick or suffering the consequences of cancer. One thing was tiredness, but another thing was losing hair.

"Do you maybe want to shave it all off?" she tried.

"Aitana, I don't want to talk about it, please."

"Okay, okay. I'll stop talking." You felt ashamed and embarrassed that she saw you like this, weak. So you completely closed off from her.

"It's getting late," you looked at your watch. "Tomorrow you have practice, and I have to study. I think that you should leave."

"Wha—"

"Aitana, please," you pleaded, with a vulnerability in your voice that you really didn't want to show.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped." With that, she left.

—

You took a loud sigh and went to the bathroom. Your brother's electric razor sat on the counter, and you just looked at it, unable to bring yourself to use it. You tried to convince yourself that you weren't actually losing her, but that didn't quite work.

Whenever you touched your hair, a lock would fall off. It was time to shave it off. Sitting down on the bathroom floor, you sighed deeply. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice when your brother came back home.

He appeared in the bathroom after a couple of minutes. "There you are! I thought you left. Where is Aitana?"

"I told her to leave," you said absently, still looking at the razor. He looked confused, both by your state and how you had kicked out Aitana. "My hair started to fall off. I've been trying to shave it off all afternoon, but I can't." You broke down crying at the last sentence.

"Gosh, I feel so stupid! I never bothered until now about my hair, and now all of a sudden, I can't get rid of it!" Frustrated, you punched your leg.

He sat down next to you and grabbed the razor from you. "But it's not just hair, isn't it?" he stated simply. "Losing hair is a physical reminder of what you are going through. It's scary, especially because you are someone who deals with problems by ignoring them."

You released a choked-out chuckle. "It's scary. You have cancer, you can die. Just like dad. And losing your hair may feel like you are out of control, like your body isn't responding to you anymore like before. But it's just hair." He turned on the razor. "Hair will grow again eventually." He moved the razor next to his scalp, making you react almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" You tried to move his hand away from his hair, but he wouldn't budge.

"I'm showing you that you are not alone, and for as long as you are in this fight, we are in this together." He quickly shaved a whole strip of his hair.

"Are you an idiot! Why did you do that?!" You said angrily, knowing that he would most probably pull off something like this, and even if you begged him not to do it on multiple occasions, he still did it. He didn't bother with your angry tone as he kept shaving off his hair until he was nearly all bald.

"See! It's just hair. Losing your hair is tough, but you know what? It's just another step until you get better. You are a fighter, and you are stronger than this." You were at a loss for words, so you just hugged him.

"Did you search on Google how to talk with your family member who has cancer?" You chuckled lightly, trying to break a little tension.

"I did," he said honestly, earning a small giggle.

You stayed a while inside his embrace, but then you soon remembered why you were in the bathroom. "I think I'm ready to shave it off.”-

—

—

After a very intense and emotionally charged afternoon, you found yourself sitting on the couch wearing one of your old Adidas beanies. You realized that one drawback of being bald was the constant feeling of coldness. Touching your head without any hair on it was something you had to get used to. It felt strange yet oddly cathartic, signaling your readiness to continue with the treatment.

"So, are you going to tell me why you kicked out that poor girl who's been following you like a lost puppy since you met her?" Ciro jumped on the couch to sit next to you.

"She's not a lost puppy."

"Well, she's been ever-present, bringing you food and always taking naps with you even when she could be doing other stuff."

"Don't make me feel guilty," you said defensively.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do. You haven't fully given her a chance, and I believe she wouldn't want anything more than for you to give her a chance. You are all she talks about." His confession made your cheeks redden, trying to hide away the stupid smile forming on your face.

"I don't want to hurt her," you uttered sadly.

"By pushing her away, you are doing just that."

"I know, but what if I give her a chance and it goes wrong? What if she decides it's too much, or I don't make it? I can't deal with that."

"What if it works? You're simply denying yourself some happiness, which I think you fully deserve."

"Why are you being so wise today?" You tried to change the subject.

"I'm just trying to help out my sister, plus I really hope that if the two of you get together, she'll stop talking about you during the physio sessions. That girl is chatty," he chuckled.

"I should probably go and talk to her," you said.

"She should be home; she told me she needed to rest for tomorrow's practice."

You put on your coat and left for Aitana's apartment with newfound determination. 

[22ayla19]

Jiyan x Pregnant! reader PART I

As the wife of a general, you rarely saw your husband at home, but even so, in those rare moments when you spend time together, you try to enjoy so as not to forget them. After all, no one knows whether tomorrow or the day after tomorrow your husband will be alive.

Once again you accompany your husband to the gate and sadly look back at his departing figure. The next time you see him, you're not sure. Maybe in a month, maybe in two or three. No matter how many months pass, you will still be waiting for Jiyan.

However, a week after your husband left, you began to feel sick in the morning. Without being stupid and remembering that about a week ago you had sex with Jiyan, this could mean that you are pregnant. Of course, you bought a pregnancy test and checked your guesses, which in the end turned out to be correct.

Not knowing what to do in such a situation, you went to the hospital where your mother-in-law works. She, as a doctor and as a woman who has gone through pregnancy, will be able to tell you what to do, because in the early stages there is a possibility of miscarriage, and given your position as the wife of a general, who often puts her life on the line on the battlefield, there may be a high probability of miscarriage. How are you worried about him?

- Hello, mom. How are you doing? - you asked after knocking in your mother-in-law’s office. You didn’t even call her mother-in-law or her name, because she became a real mother to you. You grew up without a mother who died during childbirth. She was in the care of her father. You didn’t complain about life, because others could have had it worse, but your father didn’t stay with you for long, he died a couple of years ago. And when you first met Jiyan’s mother, you cried because of how much you missed your mother. The woman warmed to you and accepted you as her daughter.

- (Y/N), dear! Come in, come in! I haven’t seen you like that for a long time,- the woman hugged you, to which you happily responded.

- Sorry for not visiting, it’s work,- you answered the woman guiltily.

- Don’t worry, you have your own life, that’s why it’s understandable that you’re busy, sit down.

After chatting a bit about Jiyan's return and the latest news, you gathered your strength to share the good news.

- Mom, I really came to you with good news, - rummaging in your bag, you pulled out a pregnancy test and handed it to your mother-in-law. At first the woman did not understand why you wanted to please her. Taking the pregnancy test into her own hands, the woman’s smile became even wider.

- Will I become a grandmother? - the mother-in-law asked, not believing the test.

- You will become a grandmother, - you answered calmly, but just as happily.

- My congratulations, dear! How happy I am for you! Does Jiyan even know?

- No, I just found out that I’m pregnant a couple of days ago, and he’s been gone for almost two weeks, - you explained. You were already about to say something, like advice for pregnant women, when your father-in-law came into the office.

- Why are you happy here without me? Did something good happen? - asked the man.

- Rejoice, old brat. You will become a grandfather! - the wife shouted joyfully.

- Come on! (Y/N), dear, are you really pregnant? - The man asked you, not believing his wife’s words.

- Yes, father. I am pregnant.

The man smiled with all his teeth and joyfully said that now his colleagues would envy him that he became a grandfather before them. We laughed a lot at the man’s words, but the uncertainty immediately disappeared when we saw their loving glances.

Over the next months, while Jiyan was away, his parents helped you in any way they could. The main thing was that they supported you morally, because you were still worried about your husband. Another point where they helped you was with a medical examination, you underwent it on their advice once or twice a month. You decided not to find out the sex of the child ahead of time, let it be a surprise for everyone, no matter who it is, a boy or a girl.

Soon it was announced that the general would return, which means he will soon find out that he will become a father. The belly has already become more noticeable, although this is not surprising considering that I am already 4 months pregnant.

It was evening outside, you were in the living room with your mother-in-law and were talking about different topics. She often came and helped around the house more than once, saying: “You’re in a position, so it’s better to rest and walk more. I’ll cook you delicious, but healthy food at the same time.”

While you were chatting, the front door opened.

- I’ll go check who’s there, - said the future grandmother.

You remained in the living room, sitting on the sofa. Expecting to hear at least some voices, but somehow everything was suspiciously quiet.

Meanwhile, in the corridor, the woman met her son, who had returned from the border zone. Jiyan wanted to ask what his mother was doing in his house, but she told him to remain silent and quietly, so that you wouldn’t hear, told him to go to the living room, where you had prepared a surprise for him.

Jiyan was confused, what have you prepared that even his mother is participating in your idea? Quietly entering the living room, he greeted you, thereby frightening you.

- I’m sorry, dear, that I scared you, - the general said guiltily.

- It’s okay, I’m glad you returned safe and sound,- you replied. Jiyan didn’t immediately realize that you were pregnant, because you covered your stomach with a blanket.

- Mom, she said that you had prepared a surprise for me. Curious to know what it is?

- Well, the surprise itself is not ready yet. It will be ready only after another 5 months, - you answered your husband with a mischievous smile.

- That is?

You didn’t leave your husband thinking for long and took off the blanket. Jiyan's eyes widened in surprise. He remembered leaving and leaving you for a couple of months, but he didn’t know you were pregnant.

-Are you pregnant? - A lot of emotions were reflected on the general’s face. And joy, and fear, and surprise. He did not expect that he would soon become a father, he was very happy to realize this, but with this comes fear. Fear of losing you and your unborn child.

- Yes darling. I am pregnant.

These words echoed in his mind. He cried, cried with happiness.

- Darling, you can’t imagine how happy I am. You made me the happiest person in the world, - hugging you and also crying, he thanked you for such wonderful news.

Maybe someday he will have to die on the battlefield, but until then, he will fight. To fight so that I can return home to Jinzhou and see you and your baby growing up every day.

[stevie-petey]

episode three: the monster and the superhero

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.” You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?” Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?” “You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Summary: you and steve can never have a normal conversation, dustin threatens nasa, eddie sadly eats his cereal because youre mean to him, youre once again nancys biggest fan, dustin and steve have an awkward heart to heart, and you and max become felons together and trauma bond (again) !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k

Before you swing in: hi hi hi !! so so so sorry for the wait. this chapter was a pain to write and i was so busy with school and work :( promise updates will become more regular soon. i was just simply in the trenches for a hot few weeks. things in the story are heatin up, so get ready gamers. anyways, enjoy !!

–

It’s quiet in Steve’s car. 

Streetlights glow faintly, lighting the way home. The windows are down; the thick late spring air fills the car with the bittersweet scent of honeysuckles in bloom. In the dim of the car lies Steve’s faint outline as he drives. His hands rest against the steering wheel, his chest rises slowly as he inhales all the fear that settles inside the car. 

No one speaks. The tension is suffocating you. 

In the backseat resides Robin with Dustin and Max. The oldest sits in the middle, her fingers drum nervously against the head of your seat. Dustin stares out the window, he hasn’t looked at you ever since promising Eddie you’d be back for him tomorrow. He hadn’t wanted to leave him, he begged you to let him stay in the boathouse, but you wouldn’t let him. 

Max stares out the other window. Her eyes are closed, she’s pretending to be asleep. You’ve come to learn what she looks like when she pretends. Her nose pinches slightly, her eyes can never stay still enough to convince you she’s asleep. It’s what she does whenever she doesn’t want to face your questions, your concerns and your fears. 

Tension builds in the back of your skull, a dull throb rings within your ears. Exhaustion washes over you, fear pierces her nails into your skin. You can’t get Eddie’s terrified eyes out of your head. The way his voice trembled, the sticky blood on his fingernails from the skin he picked at. 

If they’re back again, we need to know.

Vecna’s curse.

The static Eddie felt, Chrissy’s trance-like state. Her bones, the morbid angles they snapped. Barbara Holland, daughter and best friend. Bob Newby, superhero. Billy Hargrove, dearly missed son. Jim Hopper, renown chief and beloved father. 

You’re the best of them, kid.

If the gate really has opened once again… Thick molasses grief coats your tongue and fills your mouth with remorse. There has been so much loss, so many funerals you’ve had to attend. Too many bodies buried without answers, without closure. 

Over and over again. 

“We’re here, Robin.” The gravel of Steve’s voice cuts through the endless dread. He parks the car in front of her driveway, the lights are off inside and you know that Robin is afraid of the dark.

“Need me to walk you in?” You ask her, quiet, but unyielding with all the love you have for her. 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m brave, aren't I always brave?”

“The bravest,” Steve smiles at her, soft and unbroken. “Get some sleep, yeah?”

“I’ll… I’ll try.” Her facade slips, the fear that grips everyone tightens its hold. How could anyone sleep at a time like this? She shakes her head again, her smile returns, albeit forced, tired. Then she messily crawls over Dustin to exit the car, ignoring his cries of annoyance and pain when her elbow catches his ribs. “Sorry, little Henderson!”

“I don’t even let Steve call me that–”

“Too late, I’ve already decided to call you little Henderson,” Robin climbs out the car, lands with a soft thud on the pavement. She shuts the door with a glint in her eyes before poking her head through your passenger window. “Hey, uh. Y/N?” Her voice drops low, her eyes skirt to Steve, whose cool gaze meets her weary one. Robin clears her throat, you nod your head at her with slight concern. You know that she knows about your argument with Steve. He adores her, what he doesn’t confide in you, he confides in her. Knowing that Robin means well, you soften your voice. “Yeah?”

Robin hesitates, caught between her two favorite people in the entire world. Steve sees her hesitancy and sighs, turning away to provide some semblance of privacy. Relieved, Robin ducks her head down and whispers into your ear, “Talk to him.”

She’s gone before you can exhale. 

Steve starts the car again after Robin has safely made it inside her home. Max and Dustin are quiet in the backseat. As Steve drives, his fingers absentmindedly play with the frayed edges of his leather bracelet. It had been a gift from you, the word constants etched into the material. 

Constants. You were Steve’s constant, he was yours. Through everything you’ve been through together, all the heartbreak suffered in order to fall into one another, he’s the constant within your life. 

Now you’re afraid that you’re losing him. 

There’s still so much Steve doesn’t know. There are stories about your father that you still need to tell him about. Words Jonathan told you last night, the dangerous what if he brought into your life. You’re terrified of how Steve will react, he’s always been so trusting of you and Jonathan even after knowing the history you share. 

And yet Steve also doesn’t know that the future you see involves him, that he’s in it with as much certainty as the sky is blue; you just don’t know how to tell him this, how to articulate the abandonment that sits heavy within your chest that prohibits you from getting what you want in the end.

You have to talk to him. Steve deserves to know everything, all he’s ever asked of you is to be honest with him. 

The broken lamppost in front of Max’s trailer greets you. Steve slows the car, puts it into park. His eyes find hers in the rearview mirror. “This is you, Mayfield.”

“Thanks,” Max responds quietly. She goes to open the car door, but you turn in your seat and stop her. 

“Hey, look at me.” Your tone leaves no room for arguments. She listens, her blue eyes meeting your gaze. For a moment you see Billy’s eyes reflecting within hers. It’s only for a brief second, it ends before you can even realize what’s happened. Startled, you momentarily choke on your words. “I–”

Max raises an eyebrow at you. You’ve been acting strange all night, she doesn’t understand why. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Her words couldn’t be more ironic, more painful to hear. “I-I’m sorry.” Billy is dead, he’s gone. You shake your head, try to get his eyes out of your head. “Just… promise me you’ll call if anything happens, please?”

You know that Max isn’t in any danger, she’s safe at home with her mother, but across the street resides yellow caution tape and boarded up windows. Eddie’s trailer is across from Max’s, the proximity makes you uncomfortable. It’s an eerie feeling, Chrissy died here last night. 

Max seems to understand your concern, and she allows herself to nod. She doesn’t want to fight you, not tonight. “I will, promise.”

Squeezing her hand, you leave Max with a soft reminder to get some sleep. She smiles, a hidden joke between the two of you. Both of you know that there will be no sleeping tonight. 

Once she’s gone, it’s just you, Steve, and Dustin remaining in the car. Tension creeps slowly upon the three of you. Dustin’s never ending annoyance towards you clashes with all the unspoken words left floating between you and Steve. 

Dustin coughs awkwardly. Steve’s fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel. You keep your head down, your fingers pick at the skin between your nails. The ten minute drive from Max’s house to yours is unbearably long. Stuck at one of Hawkins’ only stop lights, Dustin can’t take the silence any longer.

“Well, this is awkward.” He says to no one in particular. “Lots of tension tonight, huh?”

Neither you nor Steve laugh, and Dustin rests his head against the seat in defeat. He understands why you and him aren’t talking, he’s still angry with you for holding a knife to Eddie’s neck. What he doesn’t understand, however, is why there seems to be so much distance between you and Steve tonight.

Normally you’d be all over one another by now. The two of you can never keep your hands off of each other. As much as Dustin hates it, he’s grown used to the way your hands are always intertwined with Steve’s. Whenever he’s in the car with you guys, your hand always rests against Steve’s arm as he drives. At red lights Steve will always turn to you, pulled in by your smile. 

Except tonight Dustin doesn’t think he’s seen Steve look at you once during the drive home. Your hand rests softly at your side, balled into a small fist. There’s a coldness between the two of you, one Dustin is ashamed to admit that he hadn’t noticed before. 

Then he remembers last night. He’d been too lost in his anger towards you to recognize the tears in your voice. He hadn’t even stopped to consider that you wanted a code blue for any other reason besides lecturing him. His stomach twists with guilt at his own selfish actions. 

Something happened between you and Steve, and you had needed your brother last night. But he had abandoned you, denied the code blue you’d needed so desperately. 

When Steve’s car pulls into your driveway, Dustin runs out as soon as the vehicle stops. He’s frantic to escape his guilt, to escape the chasm that surrounds you and Steve. Slamming the door, he shouts, “Talk to each other!” Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Good luck, Steve!”

The slam of the door echoes into the night. 

It’s just you and Steve, now. 

The air stills between you, reminiscent of the night you drove him home from the Halloween party. A year has passed since then, it’s been so long since Steve’s presence made you feel anything other than peace. The strings that have always followed you constrict against your throat. 

“We need to talk,” Steve says, but at the same time you say, “We need to talk about Jonathan.”

The words come tumbling out of your mouth, slipping through the grooves of your teeth before you can stop them. They’d been building within you all day, fizzling to the surface. And now they spill out into the silence of Steve’s car. 

His head turns to you, the street lights illuminate the shock and confusion on his handsome face. It pinches with bewilderment, he doesn’t understand. He had been ready to apologize to you, despite still not being able to comprehend how you don’t see a future with him. Steve doesn’t want to fight with you anymore, he was ready to just forgive and forget and hold your hand without the weight of guilt behind it.

Steve had been ready to salvage your relationship, and now you want to talk about Jonathan?

“Jonathan?” Shamefully, his voice cracks. He feels like a helpless little kid again, his stomach twists with the foreboding nausea that something bad is about to happen. “Why… why do you want to talk about him?”

The raw frailty on Steve’s face almost kills you. He’s drawing into himself again, preparing for the final blow that will decimate him and everything he knows.

You take a deep breath. This won’t be easy, nothing you’ve ever had to do has been easy. But Steve deserves to know. To hide something from him feels foreign, to lie to him feels like a betrayal. 

“Jonathan, he–” Your voice shakes almost as violently as your hands do. Steve is looking at you but you can’t bear to face him just yet. “He called me last night, after our… after our fight.”

“What did he say, Y/N?” Steve knows, even before you tell him, where this is going. The light in your eyes whenever you talk about Jonathan is gone. His name doesn’t grace your face with a smile. Instead, the grimace of guilt replaces it. Steve’s stomach twists into tighter knots. It’s happening again.

Inhaling, you close your eyes and try to commit to memory the before. How Steve looked at you with such adoration before tonight. How his soft hands, laced with trust, felt against your skin before tonight. His open gaze, one filled with vulnerability, stared into you before tonight. 

Opening your eyes, you exhale. Nothing will ever be the same again. “Jonathan asked me if I ever wondered if… if we made a mistake. Him and I.”

“A mistake?” Steve’s jaw tightens. 

“I think-I think he was asking me if I ever… thought about what could’ve happened between us. If somehow,” you swallow, the words cement in your mouth. “If-if somehow we made a mistake, choosing you and Nancy.”

Steve is quiet. The muscles in his body pull tightly together. He fills with venom, anger and jealousy and hurt; so much hurt. “And you think he’s right.”

It isn’t phrased as a question. 

Immediately your body turns to his. “No! God, no,” your hands search for any expanse of his skin you can find. Steve doesn’t lean into you, he doesn’t react to your touch. Panic overwhelms you, suddenly all you can do is talk and plead and beg. “Steve, I don’t think Jonathan even knew what he was saying, okay? H-he was high, and he’s been so lonely and-and he kept saying things were easy between me and him but-but that’s not how love is supposed to work and I know he’s just scared. He’s scared and he’s never been so alone before and I think-he’s just lost, okay? He’s lost and–” 

“Why are you telling me this, Y/N?” The hardness in Steve’s voice cuts into you, stings your skin. He isn’t screaming, not like he did last night, but you almost wish he were. The way his voice is leveled, cold and hard, scares you even more. 

“Would you rather I didn’t?” You’re helpless against his anger, you know he has every right to be, but you don’t know how to fix this.

Steve laughs bitterly. “I’d rather you not make shitty excuses for the asshole.”

“I’m not making excuses for him, I just wanted you to understand–”

“You are!” His voice raises slightly, almost imperceptibly so, but you hear it anyways. Steve’s chest rises and falls quickly. His hands fly wildly everywhere, he doesn’t know what to do, either. Then, almost as quickly as the anger surfaced, insecurity replaces it. “Is… Jonathan why you don’t see a future with me?”

Your fingers tighten around his wrist, almost as if you’re afraid he’ll slip between your fingers any second now. “I do see a future with you–”

“Pretty fucking hard to believe when you’re wearing the goddamn necklace he got you.” The words drip with acid. They’re hissed out with a jaw clenched so tightly you’re afraid he’ll somehow hurt himself.

The words startle you, catch you off guard. Your hand slips from Steve’s wrist. He’s never once insinuated any jealousy regarding you and Jonathan. He’s always been so trusting of you two together, he’s always been kind towards him. He always knew that he could never touch what you guys have, and yet his gaze now flickers cruelly to the bee pendant that rests against your neck. 

What Steve has said hurts you, deeper than he ever intended to. He knows how you love, how deeply you care for others. It’s who you are. Regardless of the hurt he may be feeling right now, it doesn’t give him the right to throw this crucial part of you back in your face. 

“I’m made of pieces of everyone I’ve ever loved, Steve. You know this.” The bee pendant rests against your skin as heavily as the charm bracelet does. 

And Steve does know that you’re made of pieces of everyone in your life. It’s what he loves the most about you. His eyes follow where your fingers reside, skimming the silver chain that encases your wrist. He hadn’t meant to say what he did, the words had slipped out before he could stop them. 

“Y/N…” Your name is spoken as an apology, it’s all Steve can manage in his shame. 

But the moment is ruined, you’re exhausted and all you want to do is go home. 

You shake your head at Steve, try to hide the tears in your eyes. He sees them anyways. “Can I leave, please?”

The way you ask so delicately to escape breaks Steve. Something in his chest shatters, his mouth fills with the taste of a broken promise. You don’t need his permission, he hates that you feel that you do. 

“Yeah,” his voice is softer than it’s been all night, but it’s too late. He knows this. Swallowing, all Steve can do is be gentle with you. “Yeah, of course you can leave, angel.”

Angel.

You nod at him; if you try to speak you’re afraid you’ll break before him. 

No other words are spoken between you. Steve watches as you leave. 

– 

The next morning you sit hunched over a mug of coffee, more exhausted than ever before. You haven’t slept properly in days now. Dustin finds you with dark circles under your eyes and a pathetic bowl of cereal before you. From the dazed look in your eyes, he knows you haven’t noticed his arrival, and he awkwardly clears his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh.” He scratches the back of his neck, your eyes are slow to look up at him. Pointing to your coffee, Dustin raises his eyebrows. “Rough night, I take it?”

You nod, too tired to say anything else. The cereal goes uneaten. Dustin doesn’t think your coffee is even warm anymore, he hadn’t heard you wake up this morning. He’s worried that you never even went to bed last night. You’re pale, sickly so, and Dustin hates that he hadn’t noticed the signs sooner. 

“Hey,” he pulls a chair beside you, sits down with a playful shove to your shoulder. He’s your brother, it’s his job to take care of you just as much as it’s yours to take care of him. It’s how the two of you have always been. 

For Dustin’s entire life you’ve looked after him, kissing his scraped knees and warding off monsters hidden underneath his bed. When your father left, the depression your mother fell into afterwards left Dustin clinging onto you. You were all he had left. 

Dustin leans against you, he used to do this when he was a little kid and could still fit between your arms. Resting his head against yours, shoulders pressed together, the angle is awkward and uncomfortable, but it’s safe. “Is it too late to have that code blue?”

It’s a peace offering, an extension of an apology, and you can’t help but smile at your brother. Hand finding his mess of curls, you ruffle his hair and laugh softly. “Yeah, guess we can have a code blue now.”

“Good, you know I always love to shit talk Steve.” Dustin says with humor. You both know he admires the boy.

“Language,” you remind him as you always do. Dustin knocks his head against yours in response and the two of you break into laughter; laughing with your brother again feels good.

In between sips of cold coffee and bites of soggy cereal, you tell Dustin about Steve. You explain the original argument a few nights ago, how he didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want him to follow you to New York. 

“It’s what mom did with dad,” Dustin says, looking down at the table. 

You nod at him, you knew he’d understand better than anyone. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Does he know what happened with dad?”

“No, and I know I should explain what he did, but there’s–” You cut yourself off. Dustin would kill Jonathan with his bare hands if he found out about the phone call. Even though it technically goes against the rules of a code blue, you can’t tell Dustin about Jonathan. Not yet, at least. Clearing your throat, you continue. “There’s… other things that have prevented me from explaining dad to Steve.”

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Other things?”

“Other things,” you look pointedly at him, standing your ground about not elaborating. He denied your original code blue. You’re allowed to lie this one time. “And now Steve thinks that I don’t see a future with him.”

“Well then he’s an idiot.” Your brother scoffs. Anyone with eyes can see how much you fawn over Steve. Dustin has watched you fall for him for years now. “You’re practically ready to marry the guy.”

Taking a bite of cereal, you grimace slightly. “Okay, marriage is a little much–”

“Tell that to mom, she’s already started planning the wedding.” 

Of course she has. She wouldn’t be Claudia Henderson if she wasn’t already planning the names of her grandchildren from Steve. 

The bite of cereal turns into cement, your heartbeat pounds against your throat. With everything going on with Steve, the hurt the two of you have brought down upon the other, you’re not even sure there will be a wedding at the rate things are going. 

As the days go on, you can feel Steve slipping away from you more and more.

Dustin must sense that the subject is hurting you, so he stands from his seat and claps his hands together. “Alright, I feel like we’ve covered our bases for a code blue. Checked all the boxes, felt the feelings needed to be felt.”

“I don’t like the feelings being felt,” you mumble, shoving your bowl away. You’re still drawn into yourself, pale and frail and unlike the lively girl your brother has come to miss. He knows things have been difficult between the two of you, a strain that can’t quite be loosened. 

Dustin falters, his bravado fades. He sighs again and his hand settles against your shoulder. He looks at you with sincerity, his expression softens. “Look, you and Steve will figure things out. You guys always do.”

And he truly believes this. Steve loves you with such a ferocity that rivals your love for him. Dustin can’t imagine a world in which you’re no longer with Steve, where he’s let go of you and allowed you to walk away. 

Except Dustin doesn’t know how to express this to you, but you can understand him anyways. Placing your hand over his, you squeeze it. “Thanks, Dustin.”

He smiles back at you and the code blue is over. The moment lingers for only a second longer before he frowns and sits back down next to you. “Do you think Eddie will be okay?”

And there it is. Eddie fucking Munson again. 

Shoving down your annoyance, you force yourself to focus on the situation from last night. As hurt as you are that Dustin wants to talk about Eddie right now, you can understand why he would. Chrissy died in front of him, he’s being accused of murder. 

You’re just being childish, easily irritated from lack of sleep and the stress of it all. 

“I don’t know, I mean…the cops will be looking for him.” With ease you fall back into strategizing, putting the situation above your own thoughts and feelings. Your mind spins with everything you need to do, trying to come up with whatever you can do to help. “If we have any shot of protecting him, we need to figure out what they know.”

Dustin nods, following along. “Cerebro can tap into the Hawkins PD system, we can easily get intel from there.”

“It terrifies me that Cerebro can hack into our town’s police system.”

“Be grateful I stopped there, Suzie wouldn’t let me use it to tap into NASA.”

You learn two things after using Cerebro to gather information. 

One, the radio is far too powerful to reside in your fourteen year old brother’s hands. He’s able to access the PD system with incredible ease, almost as if he’s done so before. It’d be impressive if you didn’t know the horrors that went on inside the kid’s head.

Two, Eddie is well and truly fucked. 

He’s the main suspect. They think he’s killed Chrissy and have every man in the force scouring Hawkins to find him. Her death was gruesome, you understand the manhunt that unfolds. Dustin, however, nearly loses his mind when he hears chief Powell instructing his men to search Eddie’s neighborhood for the teen. 

“We have to go warn him,” Dustin scrambles to his feet, the chair almost toppling over in his haste. “We need to leave, now.”

There isn’t time to argue, Dustin is already ringing Steve’s number. Either he’s already forgotten about your argument with the teen, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Regardless, the thought of seeing Steve again so soon after last night makes your stomach churn. You want to stop Dustin, make up some excuse to him about why you can’t help Eddie, but you know it wouldn’t matter. Your brother would only beg you to come, your worry for him would force you to listen. 

All you can do is drop your head into your hands and sigh.

– 

It was your idea to stop and get Eddie food. 

Steve had arrived at your house within minutes. Dustin immediately went for the passenger seat, which was more than okay with you, and Steve had mumbled a soft “hello” to the two of you. His greeting went ignored by you, still trying to find your breath around him, and Dustin, who promptly demanded that Steve pick up Robin and Max before returning to the boathouse. 

Halfway to Max’s, the silence in the car was thickening rapidly, so you offhandedly suggested stopping at the local grocery store to get Eddie some food and water. You figured he would appreciate the small act of kindness, especially considering the grime news you’d be delivering to him soon. That, and it’d give you an excuse to leave Steve’s car for a few moments and steady your breathing. 

The boathouse isn’t nearly as creepy in the daylight, but still you make sure your knives are in your pocket before approaching it. Robin walks beside you, helping you and Dustin carry the groceries, while Max and Steve walk silently behind. 

“Think we got him enough?” Robin asks, holding up one of the grocery bags. “I mean, don’t stoners eat a lot? Munchies or whatever?”

Rolling your eyes, you undo one of the buttons on your sweater, allowing the crisp spring air to soak your body. The sun is too warm to be worrying about whatever stoners eat. “If he complains, then he can starve.” 

“Cat’s got claws today,” Robin nudges you with her arm. Turning to make sure Steve is far enough away so he doesn’t overhear, she lowers her voice. “Guessing the talk didn’t go well last night?”

“Oh, it was just peachy,” you grit out through a forced smile. “But we have to focus on harboring a murder suspect right now.” Because nothing in your life can ever be simple. If you aren’t hunting monsters, you’re protecting the town. If you aren’t protecting the town, you’re fighting alternate dimensions.

Robin opens her mouth to say something, but Dustin shoulders past her and bursts through the boathouse doors, ending your conversation. “Delivery service!” 

Eddie nearly has a heart attack at the abrupt entrance. He jumps out of his skin and clutches at his chest after letting out a very unmanly yelp. The reaction is almost enough to brighten your foul mood, momentarily forgetting that Steve stands behind you. 

“Someone’s jumpy,” you sidestep your brother and walk over towards the table. Setting the groceries down, you begin to unload them. “We got you some food, but please don’t eat it all at once. I really don’t want to spend any more money on you.”

“Thanks…?” Eddie slowly approaches you, both relieved for the food and offended you seem so begrudged to have gotten it for him in the first place. From his few interactions with you since last night, he’s coming to learn that you’re far from the girl who showed him such selfless kindness all those years ago.

Eddie doesn’t think you even remember what you did for him. He had been at such a low point in his life, one failed exam away from dropping out of high school and disappointing his uncle, until you appeared. It’d been your sophomore year, Eddie’s failed one, and you had given him your pencil.

The action had been small, meniscal, yet it saved Eddie’s life. He hadn’t brought his own pencil for some stupid English exam. He’d been too nervous for it that he had forgotten his, and Mrs. Greer, the teacher who couldn���t have cared less whether or not Eddie died, threatened to fail him. 

The threat sank deep into his bones, freezing his intestines with dread. Eddie had promised his uncle he’d try harder in school, that he’d graduate, and yet he couldn't do something as simple as bringing a pencil to an exam. Close to tears, embarrassed and overwhelmed, Eddie almost hadn’t registered your softly whispered voice.

“Here,” you tapped his shoulder. Eddie remembers turning around, surprised you were even talking to him, and he remembers the immediate relief that sagged his bones when he saw the pencil extended in offering. He had nodded curtly at you before frantically rushing to begin the exam. He’d already wasted five minutes, he couldn’t afford any more. 

It would only be later that Eddie learned you willingly failed the exam because you’d given him your only pencil, just so he wouldn’t fail. In the end, he passed. It was the first exam Eddie had passed in a long, long time; his uncle had been so proud of him that he bought him his electric guitar.

Eddie never thanked you for that. 

And now you stand in front of him, once again extending your arm out to him with yet another offering, but your eyes are cold. Your body is tense around Eddie’s, he doesn’t miss the wide berth you seem to always give him. 

“Thanks,” he says to you again, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He accepts the box of cereal you offer him and he wills himself to smile. “I, uh. Appreciate it. I’d offer to pay you back, but…”

“You’re wanted for murder.” You finish for Eddie. 

He drops his head. “Yeah, it kinda ruins a person’s life, ya know?”

“I don’t, actually. Never been accused of killing someone.”

Eddie blinks at you. He doesn’t know what to do with the disdain you display towards him. “Right.” He looks at Dustin for help, silently begging the kid to step in before you gut him with your knives.

“Okay, why don’t you crack open that box of honey combs while we all gather around for a fun story time!” Dustin sets down the remaining groceries and ushers everyone to spread around the boathouse. 

“‘Storytime’?” Eddie asks him, looking around in confusion. 

“Y/N and Dustin did some detective work,” Robin offers him, trying to make her voice sound as cheery as possible. “They-uh. Well they found-I mean,” she doesn’t know how to break the news to Eddie, she feels awful for the guy. Deflating, she mumbles, “They’re definitely good detectives.”

Eddie only looks more confused by this, and Dustin sits down awkwardly on a stool next to you. “So, we got, uh. Some good news and some bad news.”

You snort at your brother. Steve stands next to you, his body angled away from you so that your skin doesn’t touch. The distance is small enough to go unnoticed by anyone, yet it’s a chasm that your stomach drops into. “That’s really how you’re gonna break it to him?” 

“What are you guys breaking to me?” Eddie asks, eyes wide.

Dustin hits your leg and gets the teen’s attention. “Ignore her, look at me, alright? Now, how do you prefer it? Good or bad first?”

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie doesn’t even think about his answer, he responds immediately while shoving cereal into his mouth. 

“The bad news is that you’re pretty fucked.” You inform him, arms crossed over your chest. There’s no easy way to lessen the blow of what you overhead from Hawkins PD. The news is bad, it’s all bad. 

Dustin snaps his head towards you, “Y/N!”

“I’m not going to lie to the guy or sugarcoat things!” 

“Would you just let me handle it–”

“Dustin,” Eddie hasn’t moved from his seat. His hand remains in the cereal box, his voice jagged and defeated. He’s tired. He just wants to go home. “Just say it.”

Your brother’s shoulders drop, the anger in his eyes extinguished. “We… We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you.”

“Chief Powell thinks you killed Chrissy.” Unable to look at Eddie, your eyes trace the ground. As much as you hate him, you can’t help but feel awful for the hand he’s been dealt. No one will possibly believe he’s innocent. “He ordered all his men to track you down before word gets out that you’re the prime suspect.”

“Which leads us to the good news: your name hasn’t gone public yet.” Robin continues for you, her own expression pitying. “But if Y/N and Dustin could find out about you during breakfast, then it’s a matter of time before others do, too.”

“And once that gets out,” you shake your head, you know how cruel a small town like Hawkins can be. “There’s going to be a lot of angry people who know your name.”

Eddie clenches his jaw. You can see tears forming in his eyes; you’re not sure if they’re from frustration or fear. He inhales sharply, licks his lips in disdain. “Hunt the freak, right?”

It’s the way he says it, with so much despair and venom in his voice. The look of resignation on Eddie’s face breaks your heart. He knows his odds, he’s been tormented and abused his entire life by the people in Hawkins. You’ve heard all the stories. The exile he faced because of how he looked, who he would hang out with, the music he listened to and the drugs he smoked. 

Eddie Munson, the freak. The moment the town finds out he’s wanted for murder, you’re afraid he’ll never come out of it alive. 

The ice-hot contempt you feel for him begins to melt. He’s only a year or two older than you, still just a scared kid with no place to call home anymore. Despite the protests of your body, you step towards Eddie and place a hand on his shoulder. Your hand is tense, your fingers scratch on the rough material of his denim jacket, but he seems to calm at the touch. 

“Hey, we’ll protect the freak, alright?” You mean what you tell him, your hand warms his skin. Whatever history you have with Eddie, good or bad, it doesn’t matter right now. He needs you, he’s lost and alone. 

Eddie looks up at you, your kindness startles him slightly, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his eyes find yours. They’re brown, almost doe-eyed, with a vulnerability within them so intense that it leaves a lump in your throat. 

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Eddie.” Dustin’s voice cuts through, reminding you of where you are. Stumbling slightly, you remove your hand and walk back over to Steve, who gives you an odd, confused look. You ignore him. “We have to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.” 

“That’s all, Dustin?” Eddie mocks, he doesn’t stand a chance and he knows it.

Dustin draws into himself, uncertain, before letting out a feeble response. You allow yourself to smile, enjoying his wallowing. You understand where Eddie is coming from. “It is a lot that we have to do in order to clear his name.”

“Okay, I know that everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this before.” Robin tries to reassure him. She’s leaning against a doorframe, she’s trying her best not to let her own uncertainty show. 

“We’ve been here before,” you say with slight bitterness. “You’d be surprised how many times we’ve almost died.”

Robin laughs nervously. “Well, mine was more human-flesh-based, theirs was more smoke-related. I didn’t necessarily almost die, but Y/N has some pretty sick scars on her body and Steve has been concussed more times than he’s had girlfriends–”

“Get to the point, Robin.” Steve finally speaks up, no hint of amusement in his voice. His hand rests besides yours, his fingers ache to curl against your skin. You’re wearing a soft blue sweater, tucked into your skirt, and your eyes shine against the spring cold. He doesn’t want to be here right now.

“Right. The bottom line is, collectively, I really feel we got this.”

Unable to bear the itch in his skin to touch you, Steve brings his hand to his face and rubs at his jaw to distract himself. “Except we usually rely on this girl who has superpowers, but-uh. Those went bye-bye, so–”

“And she’s in California, hundreds of miles from here.” You add on, picking at your nails. The topic makes you uncomfortable. With California comes the reminder of Jonathan.

Robin points at you and Steve. “Both good points, so I guess you could say we’re more in the-in the…?”

“Brainstorming phase.” Max supplies, which Steve snaps his fingers in agreement and Dustin hums thoughtfully. 

“There’s-uh. There’s nothing to worry about!” Your brother says unconvincingly, voice high pitched and full of lies. 

Eddie stares at everyone around him, studying the collective mess that he somehow must place all his trust in. None of you can give him a straight answer about what will happen next, and as you listen to Steve and Dustin try again to make sense of what’s going on, you recognize how hopeless it all sounds. 

“We may not sound like much,” you interrupt the boys, trying again to ease the hopelessness Eddie must be feeling. “But we’re kind of your only option right now–”

The distant wailing of sirens drown out your words, loud and piercing. The sound sets everyone into a panic. Robin instructs Dustin to cover Eddie with a tarp while you, Max, and Steve run towards the window. Squished together, you watch as multiple cop cars fly down the street with an ambulance following them; your breath catches. 

The last time you saw this many cop cars speeding through Hawkins, they had been a dead body in the quarry. It had been Will’s body, lifeless and pale. You had watched as his body was pulled from the water, you held Lucas and Dustin as they cried.

Only this time Will is in California, far away from danger. The onslaught of cars can only mean one thing. 

“I think…” Your mouth fills with syrupy dread, coating your tongue with grief. Breathing becomes difficult. You hope, more than anything, that you’re wrong. “I think someone else died.”

The moment the words leave your lips, Steve grabs his keys and instructs everyone to get into his car. He doesn't ask any questions, he doesn’t question how you know. Dustin quickly tells Eddie to stay in the boathouse while you leave. 

Your eyes squeeze shut as Steve drives, your hand clutches the seat in terror. Every second that passes, your body becomes heavier and heavier from dread. Steve’s knuckles are white against the steering wheel. Robin can’t look at you, Max and Dustin don’t say a word.

The white blanket draped over a body is what you see first. A horde of police surround it, there are lights flashing everywhere. People crowd behind a barricade, necks straining to get a look at the body on the ground. 

Then you see who the cops are talking to, and your heart drops. 

“Nancy,” you breathe out, already opening Steve’s door before he can even park the car. Something terrible has happened. Nancy stands in front of the officers, her arms crossed against her chest as if to calm herself down. She’s never looked so weak, she needs you.

Standing outside the car, the others join you. Steve has parked as close as he can to the crime scene, no one moves. Nancy releases a shaky breath when her eyes find yours. Raising her hand, she waves at you, unsure, and you wave back. She smiles, timid but genuine, and a pit forms in your stomach.

You haven’t told Nancy about Jonathan. 

Steve looks away from her, gaze turning towards you, and he’s thinking the same thing. 

– 

Nancy guides everyone to a park bench at the trailer park. She doesn’t say anything as you all walk, her eyes are exhausted. The police hadn’t wanted her to leave just yet, they had more questions for her, but you’d quickly spoke with the men to let her go. 

Sitting around the table, a bitter cold creeps into the air. The sun is out yet winter still lingers. Nancy sits across from you with Robin and Max next to her. You’re with the boys, Steve pushes his weight against you while Dustin sits stiffly beside you. 

Seeing Nancy’s sunken cheeks and glass eyes, you reach across the table and grab her hand. “What happened, Nance?”

Tears well in her eyes and for once she doesn’t wipe them away. Nancy’s hand twitches in yours, she doesn’t hold onto you like you do her. She’s grieving, you’ve come to learn all the signs of someone who has lost a friend. “It-it’s Fred.”

She explains what they’d been doing, investigating Chrissy’s death at the trailer park. Guilt laces her words, she didn’t think anything would happen to Fred. He’s always been sweet to her, his crush obvious to you but unknown to her. A shiver runs through you; Fred was smart, he was nice to you whenever you spent your days in the yearbook room. 

He didn’t deserve to die. Neither did Chrissy. 

“That makes two deaths in two days,” you say out loud, voicing what everyone else is thinking. Death is common in Hawkins, an inevitability of what lies underneath it, but there’s never been such gruesome deaths so close together. “It’s happening again.”

“What’s happening again?” Nancy shakes her head. “I-I don’t understand, you guys already know what’s causing all of this?”

“We have a working theory, but it’s… not great.” Dustin slouches down, he isn’t sure how much he can explain to the girl with all that he still doesn’t know. “We think it’s connected to Chrissy’s death, something killed her in Eddie’s trailer. He told us she had gone into some sort of trance before her bones snapped and her eyes exploded..”

Nancy grimaces at the gory imagery and you squeeze her hand again. “I’m sorry about Fred.”

She gives you a tight smile before turning to your brother. “A trance? Like El? You aren’t… do you really think this has something to do with–”

“The Upside Down.” You and Max say at the same time.

“‘It’s happening again’,” Nancy echoes your words from moments ago. She understands, now. “So this-this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy is from the Upside Down?”

Steve nods at her and Dustin sighs heavily. “We think he attacks with a spell, or maybe even a curse.”

“But we don’t know if he’s under the Mind Flayer’s control,” you point out. “For all we know, he could just be someone with El’s powers. We know the lab tested on other kids, right?”

Max looks up at you and her face twists with apprehension. “I don’t know, something feels different about this, it’s almost like it’s something new. I don’t think it’s anyone like El.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Nancy mumbles.

“No, I think Max is right. Something feels off about all of this.” Your arms draw together, it’s impossibly cold for late March. The chill has set into your bones. 

Nancy nods at you, but there’s something else on her mind. “But Fred and Chrissy also don’t make sense. I mean, why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place? They were both at the game.” Dustin offers, and you shiver again.

Billy had been in the wrong place, too. It’s how the Mind Flayer got him. He’d just been unlucky and alone.

“And the trailer park,” Max adds.

Steve’s eyes widen slightly, he shifts against you and unconsciously moves you closer to him. “We’re at the trailer park, should we… maybe not be here?”

The wind picks up and a crow cries overhead. The barren grass rustles as shadows fall against it. Your spine prickles with nerves. Steve is right to be worried. There’s something eerie about the trailer park, the caution tape that guards Eddie’s door is still too fresh. 

You wrap your sweater tighter to your body, cold with unease. Nancy’s eyes flicker around the park as the wind rustles the leaves. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

Robin asks what she means, and when Nancy begins to explain how scared and on edge Fred had been, a dull throb slowly creeps up the base of your neck. The sensation builds until it’s a roar of nerve endings exploding against your temple, and you wince in pain.

Steve’s fingers skim the crest of your wrist. “Hey,” he’s lowered his voice so the others can’t hear, he knows you never like to worry others. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” the concern in Steve’s eyes burns you. He hasn’t spoken to you all day, but still his skin warms yours and he wants to make sure you’re safe. Comfortable. Okay. Even with the anger between you and all the unspoken half-truths, he still cares about you. 

You want to tell him that you haven’t slept in days, that the nightmares are back and that they’re worse than ever before. You want to rest your head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. It’s the only way you’ve been able to keep the migraines at bay. 

But you don’t tell Steve any of this. Instead, you lie through your teeth. “I’m fine,” you reassure him again. There isn’t time for you not to be okay. Two people have died already, your migraines can wait. 

Steve doesn’t look convinced. He knows you, he knows how you are and how much you push down for the sake of others, but before he can press you further, Robin interrupts. “Hey, lovebirds, we’re trying to solve a murder case here.”

“I’m listening,” you roll your eyes at her, skin flushing a bit with embarrassment. “Anyways, what if Fred and Chrissy saw something that made them go catatonic? I think we should be focusing on the trace-like state more, it’s a trauma response.”

“What, so they’re insane asylum patients?” Dustin asks with slight displeasure. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. But Vecna can cast spells, at least in DnD. I don’t think they just ‘saw’ something.” 

Steve scratches his nose. “If I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.”

“Would you, though?” You don’t mean for the question to come off as condescending, and you quickly try to alleviate the offended look on the teen’s face. “What I mean is, who would you go to about something like that?”

“I… I think I know who they’d go to.” Max stares down at the table, her eyebrows furrowed together. She’s deep in thought, remembering something. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelly’s office. If you saw a monster, you wouldn’t go to the police.”

“They’d never believe you,” you bear your weight against the table. Nostalgia wraps around you at the memory of how scared you’d been to tell Hopper about El, the years it took for you to trust him. “That’s why I never went to Hopper when I first found El.”

Max nods, she’s relieved you get where she’s going with this. “Exactly, but you might go to your–”

“Shrink.” Robin finishes, sending you an apologetic smile for the offensive language against the profession you hope to one day go into. “No offense, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, feeling defensive. “Again with calling Ms. Kelly a shrink. She’s not a shrink, she’s actually really nice.”

“You sound like you know her personally.” Dustin narrows his eyes at you. Nothing goes unnoticed by him. 

All eyes turn to you, and you sink down in embarrassment. “I’ve… had a few meetings with her.”

Simultaneously both Steve and Dustin widen their eyes. They hadn’t known you were seeing Ms. Kelly. Nancy looks at you curiously, Robin bites her lip, and Max nods solemnly. It’s a large range of reactions, one that makes you anxious to deal with. “Can everyone stop staring at me, please?”

Steve lets out a quick breath and runs a hand through his hair. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing the school’s guidance counselor, Y/N.”

“She didn’t tell me, either.” Dustin mumbles bitterly. You’ve never hidden anything from him before. He wonders, distantly, when you started to.

“I didn’t want to worry you guys, it really isn’t a big deal.” When both boys bristle at this, you hold your hand up to silence them. “No, I don’t want to hear it. It’s not like I was seeing Ms. Kelly for anything serious, okay? She’s the guidance counselor, so I just. You know. Needed some guidance.”

It’s a horrible lie, you know that no one believes you, but they take pity on you and move on. Originally you really were seeing Ms. Kelly for college admissions help, but after a few sessions you slowly started opening up to her about the sleepless nights. The image of Billy’s lifeless body. Max’s screams. 

Nancy clears her throat and changes the topic. She comes up with what to do next, creating a plan to ask Ms. Kelly what she knows, and you sit silently. You’re relieved the attention is finally off of you. Within minutes a plan is formed: you and Max will talk to Ms. Kelly to try and get more information.

Steve agrees to drive to the house. As you’re walking to his passenger side door, he notices that Nancy isn’t following. Instead, she’s going to her own car. “Hey, Nance. Where’re you going?”

Nancy turns around, a guilty but determined look on her face. Her eyes land on you, knowing you’ll be the hardest to convince of her plan. “There’s just-there’s something I want to check on first.”

Predictably, your shoulders tense and your eyes ignite with worry. “Please don’t make me remind you that there are people dying right now. You can’t seriously think it’s safe to be on your own.”

“I can protect myself, Y/N.” Nancy reminds you gently, understanding your concern but knowing it isn’t needed.

“You care to share with the rest of us?” Dustin calls over to the two of you.

“I don’t want to waste your time,” Nancy shoves her hands into her jean jacket. “It’s… a real shot in the dark.”

You frown at this. “If it’s something you think is worth looking into, then it isn’t a shot in the dark. You’ve always been right.”

Nancy blushes at your words, but Steve silently fumes beside you. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you guys out of your mind? No way is Nancy flying solo with Vecna on the loose.”

“I never said that she should fly solo,” you say slowly, not at all liking how he’s twisting your words. You had been complimenting Nancy’s intelligence, restoring her faith back into her work. You don’t understand where this protectiveness from Steve is coming from. “I know it’s too dangerous, that’s why I was going to suggest–”

“You’re right. It’s too dangerous. Bottom line. She needs someone to-Christ.” Steve isn’t listening. He’s too caught up in his head as tosses his keys to Robin, who only barely manages to catch them. “Here, Y/N and I will stick with Nance.”

You cross your arms and glare at him. “I’m sorry?”

Steve doesn’t look at you, he’s too busy staring at Nancy, and for a brief second you truly believe that there’s something soft in his gaze when he looks at her. They’re friends, you know this. There’s a history between them that rivals your history with Jonathan. Nancy was Steve’s first love, and now he loves you, and you try desperately to shake the insecurity that you feel. 

If you’re being completely honest, you’re not even sure why you’re suddenly thinking all of this. You’ve never been insecure, at least not in your relationship with Steve. During the almost year you’ve been with him, there’ve been times girls have flirted with him or old flings that have tried to vie for his attention. But through it all your trust in him never wavered, you knew that at the end of the day it was your bed he was crawling into. 

And yet there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you that the way Steve is looking at Nancy right now is different; it’s how he looks at you. The voice is darker, more cruel. It’s one you don’t recognize, and yet you do. 

Steve seems to come back to himself and turns to you. “Robin can go with the kids to the shrink. Max can talk to her alone, it’s no big deal.”

Robin holds the keys away from her as if they’re poisoned. “I don’t think you want me driving your car.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have a license.”

Steve shakes his head with impatience. “Why don’t you have a license?”

“I’m poor,” Robin shrugs, and you laugh slightly. 

Max raises her hand. “I can drive.”

“No!” You and Steve exclaim at the same time, both of you getting war flashbacks to when Max had driven you after Billy had knocked you guys unconscious. It’d been a rough night and waking up to a thirteen year old driving a sports car definitely hadn't helped. 

“Please,” you look at Max with genuine longing. “Never, ever drive me ever again.”

“Literally anyone but you–” Steve sees Dustin make a face, offering himself to drive, and the older teen snaps his fingers at him in annoyance. “No chance.”

You shake your head as well. No way in hell are you allowing the kid to drive either. “Absolutely not, Dustin. You couldn’t even drive a golf cart properly.”

“I did a decent job!”

“I still think you’re the one who gave Steve his third concussion with your horrible braking.”

“We were being chased by evil Russians!” 

Robin steps between you and your brother, holding her hands up. “Alright, this is stupid.” She grabs Dustin’s walkie from his backpack and marches to Nancy while handing Steve his keys. “Us ladies, sans Y/N, will stick together. Unless Steve thinks we need him to protect us?”

She raises her eyebrows, challenging the teen, and you watch him. He shuffles nervously, ducks his head down. Steve is guilty and ashamed and embarrassed. Your stomach clenches. 

“He knows better than to doubt you guys,” you step in for him, saving him. “Right, Steve?”

Nancy laughs at the look of fear on his face and Robin smirks. Satisfied, they turn around and start to head towards Nancy’s car. You wish them luck as they leave, tell them to be safe. They wave back at you, and although you wish you could join them, you know that Max will want you by her side while she talks to Ms. Kelly. 

Once the girls are gone, you hit Steve’s chest. “Nice one, buddy.”

He lets out a pained huff, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows he had it coming. With a sigh he follows you back to his car and gets into the driver’s seat. Dustin stares at him through the rearview mirror with a shit eating grin on his face. Tired, Steve glares at him. “Not a word.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Dustin defends himself.

“No, but you were going to, and-hey,” Steve turns in his seat and glares even more at your brother. “Did you make sure to wipe your feet?”

“Yes,” Dustin says at the same time as you and Max say, “No.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and starts the car angrily. His movements are jerky and uncontrolled. “Always the goddamn babysitter!” He exclaims, resentment marring his face.

You jump slightly at his raised voice. He hates being sidelined, you know this. Similar to you, all Steve ever wants to do is help. He does whatever he can, he tries harder than anyone. It’s what you first fell for, back when Steve originally crashed into your life. 

It’s because of his kindness and devotion to others that you reach for Steve’s hand. His skin is cold, goosebumps raise at your touch, but you interlock your fingers through his and slowly, piece by piece, Steve relaxes. 

He’s missed your touch. You’ve missed his, too.

– 

Ms. Kelly, to her credit, tries to mask her surprise when she sees you and Max standing at her door. “Oh, hello, girls.”

“Hi,” you smile kindly at the woman. “We really hate to bother you over spring break, but do you possibly have a minute to talk?”

“With the two of you?” Ms. Kelly knew that you and Max were both grieving Billy, but she hadn’t known that you knew each other. “Y/N, I’m sure you’re aware that this is highly unusual to request.”

You wince. “Yeah, I’m definitely aware that this is a pretty strange thing to ask. It’s just that I was the one who convinced Max to start seeing you in the first place, and now that I’m also seeing you, we figured we could… talk to you together?”

It’s a horrible excuse. The lie is vague and too transparent to believe. Neither you or Max had a lot of time to come up with a convincing cover story during the drive here. 

“I don’t know,” Ms. Kelly’s face strains with contemplation. 

Max softens her eyes and does her best to look small, pleading. “Please?”

You try to appear troubled as well, though it isn’t hard. Your headache hasn’t left. The pounding in your head has only intensified since leaving the trailer park. Ms. Kelly’s gaze flits between you and Max, reading for any signs of lying or ill-will, before her resolve crumbles.

“Oh, alright.” She opens her door wider, ushers the two of you inside. “Come in.”

Steve and Dustin watch as you disappear inside the house. They’ve parked across the street, opting to be the lookout in case anything happens. You spare one last glance over your shoulder, eyes meeting Steve’s, before Ms. Kelly closes the door. 

“Okay, they’re in.” Steve states the obvious, slightly unsettled to be stuck in the car while you’re inside.

“I’m missing collarbones, not eyes.” Dustin snorts. He expects Steve to say something snarky in response, but then he notices that the teen is still staring longly out the window, tracing Ms. Kelly’s door. He looks pathetic, waiting for you, and Dustin sighs. “So… we gonna talk about it?”

Steve’s eyes linger on the doorway, a far off look on his face. When he realizes that Dustin has spoken, he turns to him slowly. “Huh? Sorry, talk about what?”

“Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance? In front of my sister?” 

“Okay, first of all, that’s not what happened.”

Dustin glares at Steve, defensive over you. “Oh, really? I’m pretty sure it did, there were a lot of witnesses. Y/N included.”

“What are you implying, little Henderson?” Steve rubs his face, too tired for the kid’s mind games. He knows he was being weird earlier with Nancy, but he would never do that to you. Ever. He had simply been overwhelmed and confused and feeling a multitude of things that he still isn’t ready to face.

“I’m not implying anything,” Dustin puts his hands up. “All I’m saying is that I know you and Y/N have been fighting lately and that for some stupid reason, you’re doubting your relationship.”

Steve throws his head back against the seat. Of course you told Dustin about last night. “Look, I’m not-I’m not doubting our relationship, alright? I mean, I love her, man. So, so much. We just… things have been hard, lately. Really fucking hard.”

He isn’t sure how much you’ve told your brother. He doesn’t think you’d tell him about Jonathan, at least not until you know yourself whatever the hell he’d been trying to tell you the other night. 

Dustin doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He stares past Steve, his eyes almost seem to glaze over. “It’s because she’s leaving, isn’t it?”

All the air in Steve’s lungs gets knocked out of him. “Yes,” he breathes out. His mouth is dry. He swallows, his tongue feels too thick for his mouth. “Sometimes it feels like she’s, I don’t know, like she’s outgrown me? I-I know it’s stupid, but she’s going so far for college and I’m stuck in Hawkins like some fucking moron and she-she didn’t want me going with her.” 

“Did you know that I cried when she got into NYU?” Dustin asks him, a hurt smile on his face. When Steve shakes his head, the boy inhales deeply. “Yeah, cried like a baby the whole night. I mean, I knew she applied, I knew she’d get in, but… you’re right. She is going pretty far. I’ve never,” he wipes at his eyes quickly, embarrassed that he’s crying. “I’ve never had to spend a single day without my sister.”

Steve stares at your brother, finally beginning to understand the distance between the two of you. For weeks now it’s all you’ve complained about to Steve. How much you resented Eddie for being Dustin’s new favorite person, how much you miss singing with him in the kitchen while you baked. But now here Dustin is, teary eyed, explaining to Steve just how scared he is to be without his sister. “It feels like she’s leaving you, too.”

“Yeah,” Dustin wipes his eyes again, nodding. “Yeah, sometimes it feels like she can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Even though we’ll still be here,” Steve says solemnly. 

It’s quiet again. A few birds sing in the tree above them. You and Max haven’t returned, yet. After a while, Dustin turns to Steve. “She doesn’t mean it, you know.”

“Who?”

“Y/N,” the boy clarifies, and Steve’s heart skips a beat. “She doesn’t mean it when she says she doesn’t want you going with her to New York. She’s just… she’s scared, and she knows that it isn’t what you really want. Nothing gets past her, it’s really annoying.”

Steve scoffs a bit, fondness running through him. Dustin’s right. Nothing ever gets past you, you notice and see everything. But then he thinks about what your brother has said, the fear he hadn’t known about. “Why would she be scared?” 

Dustin stiffens in his seat, his gaze once again blurs. He twists his hands anxiously, fixes his hat. The atmosphere shifts, Steve can see that he’s uncomfortable now. He’s about to tell Dustin that he doesn’t have to answer, but the kid does anyways. “Our parents, they-um. Met in college.”

Steve sits up as well. You and Dustin never talk about your parents, at least not about your father. Steve can’t remember the last time you’ve even mentioned him. He thinks maybe the man had called you once, during Christmas. 

“They got married right before graduation. Our mom had been pregnant with Y/N, they got hitched and in their marital bliss, our dad somehow convinced our mom to leave Indiana. She grew up here, but our dad was from Virginia and he insisted that she move there.”

Bitter. Dustin is bitter.

“Everything was fine, I guess. I liked Virginia. Y/N did, too. But our mom was lonely, anyone could see that. We lived in a pretty small town, our dad was basically a goddamn Kennedy there. Everyone adored him, but our mom… things were different for her. She was always in his shadow, but Y/N and I were too young to notice for a long time.”

Steve swallows. “And then… the divorce?” 

“The stupid fucking divorce.” Dustin spits out. “It wasn’t a surprise, but somehow we still felt blindsided. One day our dad was charming, cracking jokes with everyone and playing the guitar with us, then the next he just-he snapped. Became bitter, mean. Y/N idolized him, but when our parents started fighting every night and our mom cried over some woman named Carry… I lost my sister, for a while.”

“She told me,” Steve whispers, remembering the rawness in your voice the night you confessed to him that you were once cruel. “I had to remind her that she came back, in the end.”

The corners of Dustin’s mouth turn upwards slightly. “Yeah, she came back.” But then his expression darkens, his mood sours. “Our mother almost didn’t, though. After having to move back to Hawkins with barely any money to support us, it basically destroyed her. She had lost all her friends by that point, her own parents died while we lived in Virginia.” 

“I’m sorry,” Steve’s throat constricts. He hadn’t known any of this. He feels like such an asshole now for assuming the worst in you. For allowing his own insecurities to blind him. “I-I didn’t know about any of that.” 

“Yeah, well.” Dustin shrugs. “Now you do. And you need to know that Y/N is being her usual selfless self because of our mom and what happened to her. She doesn't want that happening to you, dipshit.”

Steve exhales through his nose, his head is swimming with so many more questions, so many apologies he wishes he could say. Instead, he stares out the window, waiting for you to return. 

–

“So, what would you girls like to discuss with me?” The clock on Ms. Kelly’s walk ticks ominously behind her. She’s seated you and Max in her basement den. You can tell by the stack of books and messy desk that she uses the area as her makeshift office. 

Max slouches against her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing too serious, we were just–”

“I’m worried about Max.” You interrupt the girl, not daring to look at her.

Ms. Kelly raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I think with all the murders happening, it might be affecting her.” It isn’t necessarily a lie. You have been worried about Max and her behavior. Especially these last few weeks. “It might be resurfacing some… memories.”

Max tries to argue, but Ms. Kelly holds her hand up. “You’ve both experienced trauma, Y/N. She lost her brother while you held his dying body.”

A lump forms in your throat, your lungs feel cold. 

The woman turns to Max, now. “And when you keep your feelings in, your pain, bottled up the way you do, it doesn’t take much to trigger them again. I can see why Y/N may be worried.”

Max doesn’t meet Ms. Kelly’s eyes. She swallows heavily and looks down at her hands. “Yeah, I know.”

“You know you can always talk to me, Max.” You say softly, wanting desperately to reach out to her. But you’re afraid it’ll only drive her further away.

She frowns at you. “Like how you talk to Dustin, or even to Steve?”

Her accusation cuts deeply. You hadn’t known that she was paying attention to you. That your disguised “I’m fine’s” weren’t convincing her. Max must know this, because she lowers her eyes again and mumbles a quiet apology. 

Ms. Kelly notices the tension and leans between the two of you. “Do you think you’re ready to talk more about that night?”

Max’s eyes gloss over briefly, her face distorts with discomfort. An onslaught of memories overtakes her, just as they overtake you. The echoes of her screams for her brother replay in your mind over and over again. The squelch of Billy’s blood trickles down your spine. You were right next to her when it happened. The blood still stains your clothes from that night at Starcourt. 

“I live next door to where it happened.” Max changes the subject, her voice returning. When Ms. Kelly asks for more clarification, she continues. “Next to where Chrissy was murdered. The cops asked me a bunch of questions. Did they talk to you?”

The woman sits up, apprehensive. She hadn’t been expecting to talk about this. You sit there quietly, head still pounding from earlier as Max takes over. She interrogates Ms. Kelly, who does her best to dodge every question, and suddenly the warmth in the room becomes unbearable. 

“Excuse me,” you stand up, hand clutching your stomach. Nausea swirls within you. You feel faint, the pounding has increased and sweat trickles down your neck. Both Max and Ms. Kelly look at you in concern, but you ignore them.

Blindly you stumble towards the kitchen you remember seeing when you arrived. Too nauseous and overwhelmed to care about niceties, you dig through Ms. Kelly’s cupboards until you find a cup. After filling it with water, the icey coolness of the liquid settles uneasily in your stomach. You lean over the sink, hands clutching the edge. Everything in your body feels unsteady.

Max comes up the stairs and finds you breathing heavily. “You’re not going to hurl, are you?”

“Trying really hard not to right now,” you breathe through your nose, out through your mouth. “Thanks for the concern.”

No response comes. Instead, footsteps walk up behind you. You hear metal clanking against glass, and when you turn around, you find Max holding up a pair of keys. She smirks, flashing you the white keyring attached to them labeled, “office”.

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “No, we are not stealing–” 

Except Max grabs your arm and practically flings you out the front door. She shoves you, urging you to start running towards Steve’s car, and all you can do is stumble over your feet and follow after her. When you make it back to the car, panting from the exertion and thrill, Steve and Dustin turn to you with wide eyes. 

“What’d she say?” Your brother asks, noting your frazzled appearance. 

“Nothing, just drive.” Max dismisses. 

“I just became a felon.”

The girl rolls her eyes at you. “Personal property theft isn’t a felony.”

“Jesus,” Steve does a double take, baffled by this entire conversation. “What the hell did you guys do in there?”

“Steve, drive!” Max shouts at him. 

The tires of the car squeal against the pavement as Steve steps on the gas. He steadies the car, a wild look in his eyes. “Where are we even going?”

“The school,” Max holds up the keys she stole.

Dustin looks at her incredulously. “Are those–”

“The keys to Ms. Kelly’s office? Yeah.” You nod grimly. “I told you, I’m now a felon.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic–”

A voice comes through Cerebro, cutting Max off. “Dustin? It’s Lucas. Do you copy?”

Relief washes over you hearing Lucas’ voice. Between tracking down Eddie and dealing with interrogating school guidance counselors, you’d also been slowly worrying yourself to death over the boy. It’s unusual for him to be quiet for so long, and with all the murders now occurring… You’d been terrified. 

“Lucas? Where the hell have you been?” Demands Dustin.

“Just listen, are you guys looking for Eddie?”

You and Steve share an uncertain look. Why would Lucas be radioing about him? How much does he know?

Your brother tells Lucas that you’ve found Eddie and tells him where he is, that he’s safe. Immediately, the boy responds, “You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?”

Predictably, Dustin doesn’t take this very well. “That’s bullshit, Eddie tried to save Chrissy.”

Lucas presses further, not believing what he’s hearing. Max snatches the radio from Dustin, tired of all the vague responses. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay?”

“Technically we still haven’t elaborated on the whole Eddie thing,” you point out, which she glares at you for. 

“Y/N?” Lucas asks, surprised to hear you’re with them.

You grab the walkie. “Hey, how’s your day been?”

“Awful,” he responds bluntly while Steve snorts at your question. “Why are you guys so sure Eddie didn’t–”

“Just meet us at school. We’ll explain later.” Max instructs, leaning over the car’s console. 

“I can’t,” fear leaks through Lucas’ voice. You sit up now, looking at Steve again. He hears it, too. “I think some real bad shit’s about to go down.”

You feel your heartbeat pick up. “Lucas, what does that mean? Are you okay, where are you?”

“Sinclair!” A voice shouts, before the radio cuts into static. 

“Lucas? Lucas!” Max shouts into the walkie, but he doesn’t respond. She sounds scared, it’s the most emotion you’ve heard in her voice in months.

You’re no better. You sit in the passenger seat, numb. The voice, you recognized it. You’d know Jason Carver’s voice anywhere. Everything clicks; you remember how Lucas was supposed to go to the party after the basketball game. Chrissy had been Jason’s girlfriend before she was brutally killed. The cops would’ve questioned him, they would’ve told him how her body had been found in Eddie’s trailer. 

Eddie Munson, the town freak everyone hates. 

“What shit could Lucas get into?” Dustin questions, annoyance twinged with worry for his friend. 

You try to steady your breathing, nausea returning. You almost don’t recognize the sound of your own voice. “It’s Jason. He’s-he’s angry.”

The words settle in the car, linger in the air, before they crash heavily upon the four of you. The realization dawns on everyone, the inevitability of what will happen next is an unbearable weight.

Steve steps even harder on the gas. He knows the basketball team, how cruel teen boys can be. 

– 

Every time you’ve snuck into one of Hawkins’ schools, it’s never led to anything good. The first two times had been in the middle school for Will. Neither time involved very pleasant memories. This year you’re sneaking into the high school in order to violate your classmates’ privacy and read their deepest, darkest secrets.

“This feels wrong,” you huff under your breath, barely keeping up with Steve and the others as they run through the hallway. “I’d hate it if anyone read my file.”

“Would you rather risk anyone else dying?” Max responds, giving you a pointed look.

You frown but don’t say anything, figuring she’s right. As much as you hate to do this, it’s objectively the lesser of two evils. You’ll apologize to the students after this is done. If they question why you’ve baked them brownies, you’ll simply lie and say you had extra laying around. 

“Dustin, do you copy?” Robin’s voice carries over the radio. Your heart skips a beat hearing her, you’ve missed her today. After your brother responds, she starts to explain what she and Nancy found. “So, Nancy’s a genius.”

“What else is new?” You say, and Robin laughs.

“My thoughts exactly, pretty girl.” She clears her throat. “Anyways, Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bull’s-eye.”

The new information startles you. Vecna first started killing in 1959? Why didn’t you hear anything about it until now, and why didn’t El sense him before?

Dustin looks equally unsettled by the news. “Okay, that’s totally bonkers, but we can’t really talk right now.”

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.”

You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?”

Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Meanwhile, Dustin urges Robin and Nancy to meet you guys at the school. By the time their conversation wraps up, Max has unlocked the office door. She heads straight towards the drawers, long familiar with the layout; you follow after her.

Steve and Dustin look around while you and Max dig through the files. They mumble something about Watergate, but you can barely hear them over the rush of blood in your eardrums. Max’s fingers rest on a specific file. The name printed on it makes you feel sick.

Fred Benson.

“Holy shit,” she exhales, grabbing it.

“Found it?” Dustin stands next to you now, neck peering down. 

You struggle to breathe. “We didn’t just find Chrissy’s file.”

Dustin tilts his head, he doesn’t understand, and Max holds the file up. “Fred was seeing Ms. Kelly too.”

Steve and Dustin freeze. You can practically see their heartbeats still. The air in the room goes stale. Their eyes linger on you, they wish they couldn’t piece it together. Chrissy and Fred were seeing Ms. Kelly up until their deaths. You and Max have been seeing her, too. It’s one hell of a coincidence. 

But that’s all this is. A horrible, awful coincidence. 

“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, but you shake your head at him.

“Please,” your lip trembles. Not here, not now. He can’t look away from you, but you can’t bear to look at him. Instead, you grab the remaining files and hand them to Max. “We need to go through them. All of them.”

Dustin sits at the desk, Steve’s hand rests on the small of your back as you lean over Max to read the files. He shines a flashlight for the two of you, Chrissy’s file is the first one you read. The image of her once vibrant and alive smile stares back at you. There’s a column of writing to the left of her photo, the handwriting is neat, orderly, and it catches your attention.

“Are those…?”

“Symptoms.” Max softly answers, eyes skimming down the list.

Past trauma.

Terrible migraines.

Difficulty sleeping.

Headaches.

Max’s entire body tenses, her muscles pull taut against you. Your own body shakes, the tremors misalign your bones. Slowly, she looks up at you. Her eyes silently beg you to tell her that you’ve gotten it all wrong. Max’s blue eyes plead with you to tell her that none of this is real.

“Steve,” your voice catches, unable to inhale. “Can we see Fred’s file?”

He softly agrees, handing you the file immediately. You take it from him. The paper trembles in your unsteady grasp. Laying them down, you open the file and Fred’s photo burns you. Next to it is a list of symptoms.

They’re the same as Chrissy’s. 

They’re the same as yours. 

The headaches. Sleepless nights. The trauma you’ve been through, the nightmares that will never truly go away. Everything you’ve experienced within the last week. 

Nosebleeds is starred, and for a moment your heartbeat settles. You haven’t had a nosebleed since you were five. It isn’t one of your symptoms; it can all still be a coincidence.

“This-this can’t be right.” You don’t know if you say this to reassure Max or yourself, but when you look down at her, you know. She has a far off look in her eyes. She doesn’t react to what you’ve just said. 

It’s only then that you remember her nosebleed from earlier this week; it hadn’t been a coincidence. 

“Max?” You shake her shoulders, tears already in your eyes. You know better than to be so naive, so blindly ignorant. You should’ve known better. You should’ve known that something was wrong.

Dustin and Steve try to wake Max, but she’s already left her body. She’s unresponsive, lost in whatever trance she’s in. 

“Y/N, what’s happening?” Steve demands, fear in his own voice.

You’re hysterical, screaming and sobbing for Max to wake up. Her body is so small against yours, she’s frail and weak and her skin has never looked so translucent. Over and over you shake her, your palms rest against her cheeks and you cry.

You’ve come to know what fear is. How it can blind a person, leave them stricken with such raw anguish. Fear takes whatever air is left inside you and it poisons it with sulfur and leaves you choking. 

The day Will went missing, the only air left in your body had been blood. 

When inside the tunnels defending your little brother from monsters, the air in your body had been carbon. 

Starcourt mall and the fireworks that exploded over Billy’s dangling and bloodied body left only just enough air in your lungs to scream.

But this fear, seeing Max unresponsive to your pleas, this fear doesn’t spare you any air. 

Gasping and choking, you’re a wreck. “Max!”

Faintly you can feel Steve’s hands on you, or maybe they’re Dustin’s. Someone grabs you, pulls you away, but all you can do is scream.

It all makes sense now, Nancy’s question from earlier rings in your ears. You know why Chrissy and Fred were targeted. Why Ms. Kelly was somehow the center of it all.

The symptoms they experienced prior, the same ones that plague you and Max. You know what it is.

Venca’s curse.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[azulock]

this has been sitting in my drafts for sooooo loooong, it's mostly born from how mean people can be in this fandom about poor Oli looking the way he does. I love his messy 'I don't have my life together' look, it's very relatable, but today we putting him under tha razor!

summary. when Oliver finds himself forced to get a clean shave for some important club event he tries to rope you into doing the work for him. and you do it, cause he is too charming and you can't resist spoiling this man

pairing. Oliver Aiku x reader

wordcount. 2,6k

warnings. some slight mention of nsfw stuff but veeeery slight, it's mostly domestic fluff, just pure distilled domesticity shot straight into your veins, you've been warned

helping hand.

"Really Oliver, you pestering me during work hours to do that for you?"

Giving one last hard stare at your screen, you groaned and swiveled you chair around to face the man currently breaking the peace in your office. With hair still damp from his shower, Oliver stood bare foot before you - a trail of wet footsteps clear behind him. God, you'd lost count of how many times you'd told him he'd end up sick if he kept doing that.

"Oh come on, it's not that big of a deal," he insisted, cutting off your thoughts, pouting as you fitted him with a steely gaze. "I neeeeed you."

You roll your eyes at his whiny antics - and complete disregard for your work life. It was almost funny to see a grown man pout like this, especially when you contrasted the silly expression with this statuesque of a man. You couldn't help but let your eyes roam free for a moment, taking in the sight of him. Water droplets still rolled down his strong torso, taking your gaze to the short hair trailing down his lower abs, to the point where his sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips. Shit, he was diverting your attention.

"Oliver," you sigh, rubbing your eyes to try and exorcise the images stealing your focus, "you've been doing that by yourself your entire adult life, you don't need me."

"That's not true, it goes way better when you do it for me," Oliver whined again, and even in his husky tone, you could hear it, the begging, so shameless.

At this moment he looked every bit like a dog, a ragged mutt pleading for attention at his owner's feet. Hell, he was even trying to shoot you the best puppy eyes he could muster, pout returning to those pretty lips. You'd say it was ridiculous, but maybe it was the smell of soap or maybe the warmth emanating from his skin, but something was making you want to give in.

"That's nonsense," you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to convince yourself to not let him sway you. "I'm not a barber, and you've been shaving your own damn self for years. I'm pretty sure you can keep your eternal stubble under control on your own."

"Well, I could," Oliver shrugged, remaining unfazed by the exasperation in your voice. "Though, this time I'm gonna have to shave it clean."

"What?" Suddenly, you were fully immersed in the topic, even though you felt like you'd fallen into a trap.

Oliver had to contain his smile when you suddenly went from nonchalant to interested. It was really cute. He knew you liked feeling the scruff around his face, which he always thought was absolutely endearing. Now, sadly, he'd have to part ways with it, albeit temporarily.

"You remember tomorrow's party? Well, the team's president is an old school kinda guy. He's gonna get pissed if he sees the team's captain shows up looking so unclean for an important event," he answers with a full body sigh, eyebrows arching high as he raises his shoulders.

"That's ridiculous," your words cut so dry that Oliver can't help but laugh at the barely contained disgust in your tone.

"Well, I think so too. But I like my position right now, if the old man wants me clean for the party, I can make the sacrifice," he answered with a wave of his hand, stepping closer to your chair before leaning in, using his hands to prop his body onto your armrests. "But it could be less painful if you helped me."

You sat in silence, staring him down for a long minute as he leaned in close, that charming smile never faltering. From this close, you could smell the conditioner on his hair and feel his breath on your skin. Shit, you could feel yourself falling for it. Rubbing a hand over your face, you slumped further down the chair, sighing as you went.

"Fine," you groaned, looking back up to his beaming face. "Go soak the soap and the brush, I'll be right there."

Closing the distance between you, Oliver met your lips with his in a short kiss before pulling back in a breath, his skin still damp and warm from the shower. "Already done that, I'll go get myself a chair."

You hummed as he got up, lifting your body heavily off of the chair after he'd disappeared into the hallway. You spoiled him too much, you were sure of it, but you guessed he had the same type of charm as a big dog who still believes they are lap sized. It was hard to say no to that.

Following the wet footsteps, you found yourself in your en suite bathroom, Oliver sitting on a high chair he'd taken from the kitchen counter. At least he'd left everything ready, so all you had left to do was commit the dismal crime of doing away with his stubble. A pity, you'd miss the feeling of it on your skin. For however many days the shave would last, that is.

Picking the plastic bowl of shaving soap, you started moving the barber brush in circular motions to begin lathering it up. Taking a step forward, you approached Oliver as your hands worked, shaking your head as he snaked an arm around your waist.

"You are spoiled," you mumbled, feeling him laugh as he looked at you both in the mirror, your gaze following his.

"Maybe," he hummed, "but I spoil you plenty too."

"Well, here we go I guess," you said with a chuckle, making him straighten to give you a better access to his face and neck.

When the soft brush touches his face Oliver hums, closing his eyes as you begin spreading the soap over his jaw. It felt nice, both the gentle smell of lemon grass and the feeling of having you taking care of him. Yeah, he was spoiled, he knew it, but could he really be blamed for liking being pampered?

Oliver was only human after all, and having to unwillingly part ways with his facial hair was not his favorite thing. So it only made sense that he'd try to squeeze whichever little joy he could from this situation. And having you do that for him was joy enough on his book. Between feeling the warmth coming from your body and the comfortable silence that had settled, he could almost forget he was being forced to do this.

Opening his eyes he found your face close to his, gaze set in concentration as you moved the brush around his neck, finishing lathering it up. It was beautiful, really, sometimes you'd focus on something so much you wouldn't even see the things around you. Cute, and he couldn't resist the urge to take advantage of that, lowering his lips to meet yours in a quick peck.

"Oliver," you exclaimed as he laughed, "you gotta cooperate, you bastard. Now I got soap on my face," you grunted, looking at the mirror and then back to him.

"Just a little bit," he chuckled, reaching out to clean your face with his hand as you sneered at him.

You shook your head and turned to put the brush back, watching from the mirror as he still chuckled at you. Pestering you when you were focused never seemed to stop amusing him. And to boot, you couldn't deny there was something infuriatingly endearing about it. Or maybe you were just blinded by the casual charm of his smile - again.

Picking up the safety razor, you turn back to him again. "Now, you better behave if you don't wanna have to clean your blood off of the white floor."

"So mean," Oliver pouts before smiling that heart shattering smile again. "Alright, I'm in your hands then."

You roll your eyes as he straightens up, hands gripping the sides of the chair. When the blade first meets his face you feel Oliver shiver at the cold touch of the metal, but as quick as it happens, it's gone. You move your wrist and the blade glides down his warm skin in short strokes, following the grain of the hair on his stubble. Oh, it's gonna be so sad to see it gone. Especially knowing how a good part of Oliver's appeal came from how he looked at least a little like a mess. You couldn't even recall the face of his club's president, but you now hated the old man.

There is ease in the silence that settles as you carefully work the sharp blade along his face and neck. Only the rough sound of metal scraping against the hair and skin fills the bathroom as an oddly well-behaved Oliver sits in stillness. It feels almost suspicious, even, but you guessed he had no interest in showing up to the party with a cut on his face. Not that you believed even that could do much harm to his good looks.

When that first pass is done you turn to the sink and wash the razor before picking up the brush start the cycle and lather his face again. Though, just as you turn back he catches you off guard, forward and capturing your lips in a quick kiss - but he almost topples his chair over in the process. Desperately you steady him up, pushing his large frame back by his shoulders.

For a moment there the scare takes the best of you, brows furrowing in a scowl, ready to chastise Oliver for the stupidy. But then he starts laughing, the warm and husky sound enveloping you as they echo off the walls, breaking your defenses. You laugh along, slapping his shoulder but leaning against him for a short moment. Sometimes he could be an idiot, but that too was part of the appeal.

Once you both recover you go back to your work, lathering his face, putting the brush back in place, picking up the razor, and bringing it to touch his face. This time you move it cross grain, once more enjoying the sound of the metal moving over his skin. It's all peaceful, for at least half of the process until Oliver grows bored, his large hand finding your bare leg, fingers traveling over the back of your thigh until they reach the hem of your shorts.

You grunt in warning and he only hums quietly in what sounded like a mocking acknowledgment. Oliver disregards your death glare completely, his palm touching your thigh, rough fingers massaging your skin as they move. Even then he doesn't stay put, hand traveling up and groping your ass, kneading the flesh under your shorts just as your reach his neck. For a moment you consider giving into the desire to leave just a little gash on his skin, but you manage to resist.

Just as you try to turn back again he he uses the hand on your ass to pull you closer in. You don't even have time to protest as his lips crash against yours - and you can already notice the strangeness of not feeling his stubble. Still, he doesn't give you much time to think on it, tongue slipping past your lips and exploring the wet insides of your mouth. He tastes like coffee, and you can't help but let the taste lure you in, the sensations enveloping you, warmth rising in your face until then it's gone.

His lips part from yours with a quick peck and you are already missing the kiss - what a bastard, teasing you like that. You huff and shake your head when Oliver winks at you, slapping your ass as you turn around and repeat your previous motions of washing the razor and grabbing the brush again.

You lather his face, then throw the brush in the sink before picking up the razor and letting it touch his skin for a final pass, this time against the grain. Oliver hums when you lean in and it sends shivers down your spine, his hand finding your leg again but this time he just let it dance over your thigh absentmindedly. You find comfort in the warmth of his palm and in the ritualistic nature of this whole thing - it's a soothing type of repetitive task.

This time the blade hugs close to his skin, and when you get to his neck you can feel his steady pulse. Sitting so still, so calm, the beating of his heart feels strangely slow, yet heavy and powerful. You know it's the telltale sign of that athletic resistance and ungodly endurance, but the slow rhythm never ceases to seem almost eerie.

When you finish you run a hand over his face, feeling the smooth, still damp skin. It's strange, but you take solace in knowing it's temporary. Soon enough it'll be gone, though not without leaving Oliver itchy for at least a day, and you always found it funny how bothered he was by that. He smiles at you and you can feel it go straight between your legs - fuck, you are sure he did that on purpose.

But you don't give the pleasure of attention, instead turning around to rest the razor on the stone sink. You hear Oliver yawn from behind you, and watch from the mirror as he stretches as you pick a towel from the rack. Turning back to him you pat his face dry, and as if he wasn't already being spoiled enough, you rub the aftershave lotion on his skin. When it's all done Oliver climbs down from the chair and pulls you in by the waist, placing a soft kiss on your lips before you both turn to the mirror.

"There you go," you say, resting your hip against the sink as Oliver leans in, "how you feeling?"

"Like I'm seven years younger," he responds, touching his face with his free hand. "Which is a nightmare, actually," he pouts.

"Oh, come on, it's only temporary. You gonna be back to having the stubble and looking great again in just a few days."

"Hey," he grunts, squinting his eyes at you, "what do you mean by that? You talk like I'm not handsome anymore," he almost growls in a joking threat, a smile playing at his lips as he cages you against the stone counter, hands on each side of your body. "What's up with that, huh?"

You chuckle as Oliver says the question low in your ear right before assaulting your face with soft kisses. You laugh, grabbing at his shoulders as he snakes a hand around your waist. He's rubbing his face against yours and you can't help but notice how odd it is not to feel the stubble you'd grown so used to.

"Oliver," you laugh, dual colored eyes looking up at you as he peppers kisses over your neck, "this is so strange, your face is so smooth."

"Ah, but you gonna have to deal with it," you laugh as he rubs his face against yours almost like a cat before taking his lips to yours and placing a quick peck. "You gotta make up to me for saying something so mean."

"I've just done your shaving for you, ain't that enough?"

"Nah, I can think of something better."

He pulls you in closer, rubbing his pelvis against yours, letting you feel the large bulge under the the fabric of his sweatpants. Of course, he was like that, it didn't surprise you at all. But you guessed you could spoil him just a little bit more, as a reward for behaving so well even under such difficult circumstances. Yeah, he deserved a bit more pampering, why not?

now for a word from our sponsors: @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife

[katyawriteswhump]

Livin’ the dream (steddielovemonth day 3)

After High School, Eddie and Steve’s lives don’t exactly go as planned… For @steddielovemonth day 3 prompt: Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking a leap (@unclewaynemunson) Thank you <3

Rating: M. CW: Unhealthy/abusive relationship (NOT steddie!) Tags: No Upside Down AU, angst. WC: 2,225

…

“I’d never have dreamed,” said Eddie one morning, during his daily stop at Dave’s Diner, “that Steve Harrington pouring my coffee would become the highlight of my day.”

Steve smirked. “Wasn’t exactly how I saw my future either, Munson.”

While Steve poured, Eddie left his hand on his coffee cup. He always did—even if the cup got too hot. Even if it scalded him. He’d not miss a chance to have Steve that close. Nor to enjoy staring at those lickable arms, today exposed to the shoulders by a snug-fitting vest top.

“I guess you really dig lousy weak coffee, man,” said Steve.

“Sets me up for a busy day fulfilling my childhood ambition of hauling bricks, darlin’.” He’d gotten away with ‘darlin’’ last week. Steve didn’t chew his head off today, either, so… “Living the dream, huh?”

Steve sighed hard, started wiping the counter near Eddie, over and over, as he always did. “How’s your pay?” asked Steve quietly.

“It’s a day rate. Not stellar, not the pits. Why? You looking for other work?” Panic rocked through Eddie. “You’re not leaving this place?” Though it would be awesome if we worked together. Eddie was already fantasising about those hot summer days on the construction site, when Steve might strip his shirt off.

“Nah, not really,” said Steve, “I’m kinda tied to this job.” He ran his free hand distractedly across his eyes. Tied to this job—what the heck did that mean? Steve often seemed world-weary and withdrawn. Incongruously so, given the confident guy he used to be. But that was adult life, so it seemed. It sucked.

All the same, Eddie experienced an uneasy urge to probe deeper. Steve got in first: “Hey, how’s the band?”

Eddie beamed. Yeah, there was one other thing, other than coffee with Steve, that he lived for: “We got a gig Saturday night.”

“Let me guess—the super bowl came begging?”

“Haha, just you wait, big guy. It’s at that new bar in town. You wanna come?”

Steve paused his scrubbing. Something sparked in the depths of those big, beguiling eyes that made Eddie’s throat tighten, and his pulse beat faster. “I’m working,” said Steve. I’ll try and get away aft—”

“Hey, kid! You gone blind or you really this lazy?” That was Steve’s boss, Dave, who’d gotten the biggest arms Eddie had ever seen. “There’s more than one punter in this place. If you can count that high?”

“Jesus, he can be such an a-hole,” mumbled Steve. He shot off, even as Eddie bleated: 

“See you tomorrow?”

…

Only seven people turn up for Corroded Coffin’s gig. It was a total dud, and Eddie didn’t give a shit. 

Among the seven, was Steve. 

The crappy too-bright venue lighting revealed Steve undressing Eddie with his eyes, as surely as Eddie undressed Steve. Eddie was so blown away, he almost messed up the finger work on his most bodacious solo.

After the final number, Eddie placed down his guitar and made a beeline for Steve: “Hey, you made it.”

“Figured I might as well. Jon Bon Jovi wasn’t returning my calls.” Steve snickered, and Eddie literally drooled. Metal thrummed through his every vein, and his blood rushed madly—most of it heading south. Steve Harrington CAME TO MY GIG AND STAYED FOR THE NON-EXISTENT AFTER-PARTY. Steve’s vest top was sadly missed, but his tight t-shirt still afforded Eddie a glimpse of that tasty chest hair, and the skin-tight jeans were… Gnnng! And as for the touch of eyeliner? 

Slayed Eddie dead.

“You wanna come backstage?” Eddie’s voice came out embarrassingly high-pitched.

“I’d like a drink. Preferably something stronger than coffee, and that I don’t have to pour.”

After his sixth shot, Eddie went in for the kill: “You are literally the hottest fucking thing I have ever goddamn seen.”

“Not exactly slick.” Steve leaned close, and Eddie inhaled his fast, bourbon-spiced breaths. “But I guess it’s a step up on ‘do you come here often.’” 

Eddie silenced him with a blockbuster kiss, which Steve returned instantly. Within moments, Eddie was up off his barstool, hands roving wildly over Steve’s delicious torso. Okay, also wandering around to pry under his tight t-shirt, and to grope that mega-hot denim-clad ass. Steve pawed Eddie with equal enthusiasm, setting his barstool rocking till it toppled back. 

He jumped off, straight into Eddie’s arms. Wow! There was nothing better than kissing somebody roughly your own height. Back at school, he’d figured Steve was a lot taller than him—like most jocks, he’d had that early spurt of growth, Eddie guessed. Then Eddie had more of less caught up, and now..? Yeah, everything had changed, all his preconceptions thrown to the winds. Best of all, Steve had turned out to be a good dude.

Also, the best kisser ever.

They made out like their lives depended on it, tongues sliding together, slickly and keenly. Meanwhile, despite the hotness, all those sweet moments over coffee crammed together in Eddie’s head.

You are the highlight of my life… The light of my goddamn life! How come this took so long?

Then, as abruptly as it started, Steve broke the kiss. He staggered back into his stool, setting it rocking again. “Shit!”

“Oooookay.” Eddie felt like he’d been punched. “Used to that in gig write-ups, but—”

“Oh God, no… It’s not you. It’s so not about you. This was a terrible idea.” He knocked Eddie’s fingers from where they lingered on his hip, and sidestepped, placing the barstool between them.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s about me, Munson, so you can quit the goddamn kicked-puppy-dog eyes.” Erm, back at ya, Harrington. “I’m with another guy, okay?” He laughed, and somehow, it was one of the most miserable sounds Eddie had ever heard. “I didn’t think we’d… Look, I really shouldn’t have come.” 

With that, he bolted.

…

Eddie got to the diner super-early on Monday morning. He’d barely thought of anything other than Steve, who was no longer simply his secret crush. Or even the light of his life. 

Without exactly knowing why, Eddie was pretty much dying with worry for him.

Steve didn’t pour Eddie’s coffee. He dumped the pot on the counter, emoted unwelcomingly with hard-set features, and hurried off to take a table order. Which he then headed out back to prepare.

Eddie waited. He was gonna be late for work, and his boss would give him an earful, and he really couldn’t give a crap.

The diner emptied out, and eventually, Steve emerged from the back, mouthing:

“What the Hell?”

“I needed to see you, Steve.” Steve glared at him, and Eddie did a double take. Steve looked more exhausted than ever, shadows stark as bruises around his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Saturday was a big mistake. Huge. Had an argument with my boyfriend about it, that’s all. Scram, will you?”

Steve’s boss came out from the back. Steve emoted wildly again, shooed Eddie, and the truth dawned. And was slammed home when Dave slapped Steve’s butt—scowling at Eddie, as he did so—then grabbed Steve’s shoulders, spiralled him about, and shoved him off in the direction of another table awaiting service.

“Either you place another order, or get lost,” said Dave to Eddie.

Eddie ordered pancakes and waited.

“Dave? Seriously?” hissed Eddie, when he finally got Steve’s attention again. He begrudgingly admitted Dave was okay looking. All the same: “He’s a dick! And he’s gotta be old enough to be your dad.”

Steve edged close, talking so fast and hushed Eddie strained to follow. “My parents threw me out. I was on the streets! Dave was… good to me, took me in, and now… I’m kinda stuck. He takes my rent out of my wages, and there’s never anything left, and—”

“You need to get away from him, man.” Eddie felt sick. Somehow, he burbled it out: “Leave the son-of-a-bitch. Right now. You can crash with me.”

“You live in your uncle’s trailer! He’d be beyond thrilled, I’m sure, and Dave would…” Steve’s mouth hung open a moment. He’d what? Come after you? “Look, I’m okay. Dave’s all right, really. Gets grouchy sometimes, that’s all.”

Eddie spouts the next question before he can stop himself. “Do you love him?”

Steve tossed his arms up in despair: “What kinda dumbass question is that?” Yeah, Eddie wants to facepalm. In retrospect, it was truly dumb! “Look, he doesn’t know who I saw on Saturday, but he’s already bitching about you hanging around too much. Just fucking go already!”

Eddie didn’t drive on to the construction site. Instead, as his brain screamed, You’re batshit crazy, he pawned all his meagre possessions, even his beloved Warlock. His plan only faltered when Wayne caught wind of him going to a loan shark. His uncle literally dragged him from their office and insisted on lending Eddie all his scant savings.

Eddie refused. Wayne refused harder. They headed to the second-hand dealership and purchased the cheapest RV in the yard.

Next morning, Eddie trundled his rusty 1960s Volkswagen into the forecourt of Dave’s Diner. He gritted his teeth, squared his shoulders, and moseyed through the door like a gunslinger and about to unleash hell. One that was also trembling like jello, packing zero heat, and practically pissing himself.

“Got my own place now,” he said to Steve.

Steve looked mad, refused him even a coffee cup, though Dave didn’t seem to be around. Yet. “This isn’t happening, Eddie.”

“My place has got wheels, darlin’.” Eddie motioned to the RV outside, dropped his voice to an undertone. “It’s a big country. We can go anywhere. I’ll park up half-a-mile along the road. Wait all day. All night, if you need.”

Steve eked tight words from between gritted teeth: “Look, I don’t wanna sound ungrateful. It’s still a ‘no,’ man. You must have gone cuckoo. I mean, what about your band?”

Yeah, that brought a pang to Eddie’s chest: “Honestly? The rest of the guys are losing interest fast. I can fly solo. As long as you’ll fly with me?”

Dave strode out from the back. The flash of fear in Steve’s eyes cut Eddie to the quick, because it also hollered, You’re making things worse!

Oh God, what’ve I done?

“You’re barred,” yelled Dave at Eddie. “I see your long-haired loony mug one more time, you can kiss my fist.”

“Subtle you ain’t, asshat.”  Eddie retreated, literally a mangy, kicked dog. He drove the RV that half-a-mile along the road and waited. And waited. By midnight, he felt like his heart had been wrung dry, and eventually, he fell asleep.

A loud thudding roused him. He sat up, blinked at his unfamiliar surroundings and then… Shiiiit! He dashed to the door.

Steve perched on the step, his wide eyes glowing with something… unfamiliar. Some sparkle that might just be hope. He’d gotten a very small bundle slung over his shoulder.

“I hope you were serious?” asked Steve.

“Deadly serious, darlin’.”

Steve took Eddie’s face in his hands, and kissed him, briefly, almost chastely. Totally mind blowing. “So good to do that without feeling guilty,” he murmured, smoothing kiss-wetted lips together.

Eddie grinned; he wasn’t even quite sure if this was real: “Let’s get the Hell out of Dodge,” he said.

They hit the road, and they never looked back.

…

Three months later

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” cooed Eddie, as the Hawkins pawn shop owner handed his Warlock back across the counter. “I missed you soooo much.”

“Ugh, seriously?” bitched Steve, as soon as they exited the store. He blocked Eddie’s path along the sidewalk, planted his hands on his hips: “Should I be jealous?”

“Nah. We’re a proper family now.” With his guitar safely stowed in its case, he slung an arm around Steve, and they walked on toward where they’d parked the RV. “Tho’ when we get to Wayne’s, I might have a moment with my long-lost beloved. While you two watch the game.”

“No funny business, Sweetcheeks, or I’m absconding with a second-hand Yamaha keyboard.”

Eddie beamed broadly. It felt so weird, being back in Hawkins, and with hope, at least, for a better future. Not even having to worry about… “You know, I kinda want to thank Chief Hopper in person for arresting your douchebag ex.”

“Yeah, well, he put a guy in the hospital.” Steve shuddered. “They’ve charged him with attempted homicide.”

God, I’m so relieved it wasn’t you, thinks Eddie.

Steve rattled out a joyless laugh that Eddie hadn’t heard for some time, and said, “Jesus, I’m so happy it wasn’t you.”

Suddenly, Eddie’s eyes brimmed with tears. It’s too much. He can’t bear to think of what might have been. “Love you so much,” he blurted, fumbling for the keys for the RV. He couldn’t get up the steps and inside with Steve fast enough

“Love you too,” whispered Steve, once the door was closed, and sounding slightly choked, also. Which isn’t like him.

They clasped each other tighter than ever, and did their darndest to kiss the bad memories away.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

heyyy girlie can u plz write a Miguel x femreader where reader is drunk? Thxxxx

hii bby!! love it!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

one too many

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

wc 572

✧.┊MASTERLIST

"All right, that's it," Miguel sweetly instructs, helping your drunken state out of the car. "Right leg first... that's it, now put it down,"

"It's too heavy," you groan, head falling back to rest against the seat.

"What's too heavy, mama?"

"My head," you mumble, rubbing your temples. "It's too... big," 

"That's what happens when you order a bottle of tequila," he lowly chuckles, slipping his arms underneath you and bringing you to his chest. "If you think it hurts now, wait ‘til tomorrow." he grins, kissing your forehead as he carries you towards the house.

Since Miguel had been working more than usual this last week, he knew it was only fair to take you out on a date to make up for lost time, to apologise even. Work was important to Miguel, but you're much more. He never wanted to take you for granted, so dates were imperative to show you how much he appreciated you.

So this evening, after a week of missed dinners and late nights, he took you out for dinner and drinks at one of your favourite bars. You didn't drink often, but that didn't mean you weren't partial to the occasional beverage. Since you weren't a regular drinker, your alcohol intolerance was low- extremely low compared to your towering and muscular boyfriend.

"Okay, you think you can sit here and wait for me?" Miguel rhetorically asks, gently placing you at the edge of the bed. "I'll only be a minute," he says softly, trying to slip out of your grip. 

"I don't want you to leave me again," you sadly smile, loosening your hold around his forearm.

"Cariño... baby,” he sighs, crouching to the floor between your knees. "I'm sorry. I should've been here, it's just—"

"I know," you interrupt, looking down at him as you play with the framing strands of hair around his face. "I just miss you, that's all... I miss having you around,"

"I know, mama. And I'm sorry," he says, his lips lining in a soft smile. "I haven't been here,"

"It's okay," you nod, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. "You're here now," you say, speaking as though your goal was to comfort him. 

Miguel doesn't say anything. He smiles, looking up at you. "What would I do without you?" he whispers, pushing the hair away from your eyes, tucking the rogue strands behind your ears. "Hermosa," he adds, kissing the tip of your nose as he stands. "Let's get you ready for bed, hm? How does that sound?"

"Good... very good," you laugh, kicking off your heels. "This dress has been killing me,"

Chuckling. "I’m sure,"

Miguel helps undress you, working gently to remove the uncomfortable fabric from your sleepy form, giving you moments of privacy between- even though it was nothing he hadn't seen before. 

He cautiously removes your makeup, delicately swiping the cloth over your face, being extra careful around your eyes. He adds a thin layer of your favourite moisturiser, then dresses you in one of his t-shirts before carrying you to the top of the bed, tucking you under the covers.

Miguel returns a few minutes later with sweatpants draping from his hips, two glasses of water and a pack of paracetamol. He sets the glass and medicine on your nightstand before sliding into bed beside you, immediately pulling you to his chest. 

He kisses your forehead, adjusting you in his arms. "Goodnight, querida."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

artwork is by shuploc

[justalost4girl]

Two

One Word Count: 2752 taglist: @langedelalune @esposadejoyhuerta @scarlettbitchx

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

Luke's POV

✧ ˚ 　· 　　

One year earlier

Our sources alert that a certain spider has cast its webs. We count on your presence at our annual arachnid meeting, which will exceptionally take place today at 2 PM for exclusive details about this new species that attacks under the light. More information about the location is attached in the email. We await you there.”

Luke took his eyes off the screen and looked around the room. A spacious, elegantly decorated office, with a panoramic view of the sky through the floor-to-ceiling windows. An Italian leather sofa set rested in the center of the room, surrounded by handcrafted chairs with intricate details he imagined had been designed by hand. His own desk was cluttered with luxurious items of uncertain origin, extravagant gifts from the Hydra Corp’s head of data. Damn Hydra, with its dark history of human experiments, deep-rooted prejudices, and flawless marketing that made them appear as the good guys.

He reread the email, feeling a chill down his spine. The code might pass unnoticed by inexperienced eyes, but he knew what it meant. "Spider" referred to the legendary SHIELD spy who worked tirelessly to dismantle Hydra. Luke was in her crosshairs for his association with the organization.

The idea of Hydra being dismantled wasn’t entirely unpleasant to him. Deep down, Luke bitterly regretted every contract he had ever signed with them. But he would do anything not to return to the life of poverty he had before. He typed a response confirming his presence at the meeting when two knocks on the door caught his attention. He ran his hands over his face, trying to hide his worries.

A young woman appeared at the door, shy.

Always shy.

"Come in, Newton. What do you need?" He asked, picking up the stress ball his analyst threw at him.

"Stop with all this formality, I just came to ask for your feedback on my code. I want to leave on time today to have our coffee." You said, smiling excitedly. Newton's presence always brought a sense of normalcy to your chaotic life, and he wouldn't trade those coffee afternoons with you for almost anything in the world, but he needed to. Now he was about to be dragged even further into the web of intrigue involving Hydra and SHIELD and he would never forgive himself if he put you, who reminded him of himself, at risk.

Luke almost felt guilty seeing your face light up with expectation. "No coffee today, I'm afraid. There's a last-minute meeting." He said, watching your expression fall.

You sighed and nodded resignedly. "Alright, but tomorrow it's on you." And he tossed the stress ball back to you.

"See you tomorrow, Newton." You smiled sadly and left the room towards the café. He sighed and grabbed his keys, making his way to the address from the email that was about to change his life.

Luke arrived at the building early, his heart beating faster than usual. The building was extravagant and discreet at the same time, as if every detail of the décor had been meticulously planned not to reveal the kind of people who frequented the place. He walked through the luxurious lobby, his eyes capturing the Persian rugs, the impressionist paintings on the walls, and the strategically positioned designer furniture to impress without being ostentatious.

Entering the conference room, Luke sat down and was handed a tablet with several photographs. One in particular caught his attention: a red-haired woman with a piercing gaze. Before he could ask who she was, a severe-looking man sat down in front of him and began to speak.

"Her name is Natasha Romanoff," the man said, pointing to the photo. "She's known as the Black Widow. We have information that she's been frequenting the café where you usually go, observing our movements for weeks."

Luke felt a chill run down his spine. Natasha Romanoff was the name behind the codename that terrified any Hydra collaborator, and now she was closer than he had imagined.

"Our advice is that you avoid that café from now on. She's extremely dangerous, and we're certain she's plotting something big," the counter-spy continued. "We also want to discuss another matter. We have an ongoing plan, and we'll need your cooperation when the time comes. You'll be rewarded."

Luke nodded, absorbing the information. The idea of being targeted by one of the world's most notorious spies unsettled him, but he knew he had no choice but to cooperate. He took notes on Hydra's new project and once again felt the weight of his choices that day, but Luke could handle it, he always does.

Or so he thought.

The next day, while talking to you, Luke returned to his office with his hands on his chest, unable to breathe. "Nat…" He muttered to himself. The association was immediate and disturbing. Natasha Romanoff, the spy he had been warned about just the day before… Every detail matched the enthusiastic description of yours "soul mate". The red hair, the penetrating green eyes, the captivating presence.

He bit his tongue so hard not to scream that he tasted metal, yet he didn't care. What was supposed to be just a data sale had put you in danger, and you had no idea.

With his mind racing, he knew he needed to act quickly. Luke picked up the phone and dialed a number he hoped he'd never have to use. "We need to meet. It's urgent," he said, his voice tense. "The spider has spun its web around my analyst. We need to protect her."

☆。*。☆。

Six months earlier

"A bait," Alex's low voice referring to you was etched in Luke's brain. "The girl will be bait. Let Natasha think she's in control, let her go in the direction we want. If everything goes well, we can get rid of two problems at once and If she really falls in love, it will be easier."

Those words echoed in Luke's mind as he walked alongside you towards the café. He saw your happiness on display and deeply wished he could tell the truth with every step they took together. But he couldn't risk putting you in danger, not when everything was so delicately planned.

Sitting at the table with Natasha, Luke watched each interaction with a mix of admiration and apprehension. He admired how well you and Natasha got along, but knew that behind that smile, a much more dangerous game was unfolding, and deep down he hoped her feelings were genuine because Luke would always root for your happiness.

When the call interrupted their brief moment of normalcy, Luke returned to reality with a heavy heart. He needed to maintain control of the situation, protect you, and ensure the Hydra plan moved forward as planned.

Luke answered the call with a growing sense of urgency in his chest. It was Alex on the other end, his contact/mentor, and the words he heard made him tense.

"A trip," Alex began, using a calculated tone. "It's time to put the plan into action. I need you three in Seattle in a week, I've taken care of everything."

Luke felt a chill run down his spine. The trip to Seattle wasn't just a routine work task; it was a crucial part of the plan to neutralize Natasha's operations. He took a deep breath, focusing on keeping calm as he absorbed the gravity of the situation—he would be responsible for ending the girlfriend of his favorite person.

"Understood," Luke replied, his voice firm. "We'll prepare. Natasha will be with us?" He asked to confirm, praying he would say no. Neutralizing Natasha was bad enough, doing it in front of you was worse.

"Yes, and your Newton too," Alex confirmed. "She needs to be there. Make sure she's fully involved, but keep it discreet."

Luke nodded, even though Alex couldn't see him. He knew there was a lot at stake, and every step needed to be carefully planned to avoid any complications.

"Understood," Luke repeated, ending the call and returning to his seat at the table. Coming back near you and Natasha, he tried to disguise the tension as he shared the news of the trip. Natasha's reaction wasn't surprising to him; he knew she would see this as an opportunity to investigate him further.

Her suggestion of wanting to participate wasn't unexpected, but he couldn't let her suspect, so he pretended to oppose the idea. Luke left a brief pause hanging in the air, waiting for Natasha's response. He knew that if she agreed to go, it would make his task of keeping her close and under control easier. And when you asked for his permission with that loving look, he knew he had a lot to apologize to you for.

End of Luke's POV

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

☆。*。☆。

Five months earlier…

It was the last day of the trip, and Natasha was elated. She had managed to plant listening devices in Luke's meeting room after catching him off guard. Thanks to you, she knew the client would come that afternoon to sign Luthor Corp's final security agreement. With access to the cameras and audio, she could prove it was all a front for selling data to Hydra, and she was there to serve justice. Surely, you shouldn't hate her. Fury would be pleased too, of course. It would be good for her reputation.

Obviously, the gorgeous woman sitting across from her, with Star Wars boots contrasting perfectly with a form-fitting jumpsuit, wasn't the only reason to celebrate the likely success of the plan. You noticed her scrutiny and smiled at the woman who had stolen your heart and left you marked from the previous night, requiring almost a ton of makeup on your neck.

Ten minutes late, Luke arrives dressed in a luxurious black suit and makes his way over to hug you gently, conveying a mix of excitement and unease you had never seen in him before. "Newton, you look stunning, but I'm afraid you won't be joining the meeting today. And since we have a free schedule tomorrow, you're free to enjoy the rest of the day with Nat."

You furrow your brow and look at him, surprised. "Really? Luke, this is unexpected. I've prepared for this meeting."

He smiled, a melancholic gesture that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I know, but it's our last night here. I want you two to have a good time, really soak in what the city has to offer."

Natasha felt a slight discomfort, her trained agent instincts alerting her to the sudden change in plans. "Luke, are you sure? It doesn't sound good for the clients not to follow through with the…"

Luke cut her off with a serious look. "I know, Nat. But I trust you both to enjoy the city on my behalf. Trust me on this."

Natasha smiled and glanced at you, pondering for a moment. Some time alone, carefree, was a rare thing. "Alright. A night to unwind wouldn't be bad. Let's find something to do and a nice place to dinner. Thank you, Luke."

Luke nodded, hiding his concerns beneath a mask of determination. "You deserve this night. Enjoy it." He shook Natasha's hand for the first time. “Take care of her,” she nods , finding everything very suspicious.

Luke turned to you, holding your face. “You're brilliant, Newton, and the best friend I've ever had. Never forget that.”

You don't notice, but Luke holds you a little tighter.

✧♬•¨•.｡

The city pulsed with life as Natasha took you to explore lively bars and clubs in the area. The atmosphere of the business trip now felt distant, replaced by the excitement of a promising night

. Natasha chose a bustling bar where the sound of live music filled the space. She led you to a strategic spot near the dance floor, where the vibrant rhythm seemed inviting.

"Shall we dance a bit?" Natasha suggested, with a playful smile on her lips.

Dancing wasn’t exactly your thing, but you liked pleasing Natasha. "Sure, for you, Natasha."

You join the crowd moving to the rhythm of the music. Natasha completely let loose, dancing gracefully and energetically, attracting curious looks and occasional admirers.

She becomes the center of the party within minutes.

You, being a bit more reserved, let yourself be carried away by the engaging rhythm, following Natasha's steps with concentrated effort. Natasha, noticing your hesitation, smiles and adjusts her rhythm to something more accessible.

Between songs, Natasha leads you to a quieter corner of the bar where you can talk without shouting over the loud music.

"You did really well on the dance floor," Natasha praised, a sparkle of admiration in her eyes.

You laugh, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thanks, but I definitely need more practice, I still haven't learned…"

She cuts you off with a kiss because your Nat has this habit of interrupting you before you can say something negative about yourself.

Nat tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, studying you with curiosity. "Are you having fun?"

Nodding with a genuine smile, you kiss her and whisper, "Yes, I am. Thank you for bringing me here, Nat.”

And your lips meet as your bodies sway to the music.

You decide to end the night at a restaurant near the hotel, which Luke had recommended that morning. After dinner and two bottles of wine, you leave the restaurant together and notice the rain falling softly, painting the pavement with silvery reflections.

Natasha, noticing that you were starting to shiver slightly, took off her coat and placed it on your shoulders with a gentle smile.

"I don't want you catching a cold," the redhead said tenderly, adjusting the coat around you and placing her hands in her pockets.

A bit more relaxed after the wine, you laughed and agreed, feeling cozy under Natasha's coat. You hugged her tighter, savoring the scent of the woman you love.

As you walked back to the hotel, both of your phones vibrated simultaneously. You stopped and pulled out your phone, noticing an email from Luke. Opening it, you were confused and slightly disturbed by his words: an apology for getting you involved with Natasha because of him, and an attachment. You looked up and saw Natasha's eyes gleaming at her phone.

Something didn’t feel right, and it was as if the alcohol evaporated from your body at exactly 1:58 AM.

The rain began to fall harder, forming a translucent veil around you both. Natasha looked at you with a soft, sincere expression. She seemed incredibly happy. You didn’t understand. In an impulse, Natasha gently cupped your face in her hands and kissed you deeply and softly. The rain fell around you while the moment seemed to freeze in time.

You placed your hands on Natasha's shoulders, gently caressing for a minute as you gave in to the moment, still dazed. Natasha broke the kiss for a moment, smiling tenderly as she looked into Newton's eyes.

"I love you, Newton," Natasha whispered, letting the words float between you in the night rain. You told her you loved her too, and she hugged you, her heartbeat loud in your ears. The email could be opened later; all you wanted now was the eternal company of your Nat.

The moment of intimacy was abruptly interrupted by the screeching sound of tires skidding and metal crashing violently against a nearby pole. A car, speeding, veered towards you, swerving at the last second and skidding across the wet pavement before colliding violently.

Dazed by the shock and the deafening noise, you saw the car shatter against the pole.

A familiar car.

Instinctively, you moved towards the accident site, your heart pounding wildly. Then, a scream of horror escaped your lips.

Natasha, driven by Newton's scream, ran to her, her own feelings of shock and fear mirrored on her face. She knelt beside Newton, her eyes widening at the terrible scene before them. The sight of Luke's and a Hydra spy's lifeless bodies in the twisted wreckage terrified her, and Natasha didn’t know what to do other than hold you tighter.

---

Part 3 Let me know what you think :)

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 0.2

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin returns home from the band meeting with some exciting information about his future while you also receive some news regarding your own.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

It was nearing eight when Anakin finally returned home. You look up at him from your place on the new couch when he enters the living room, a small smile on your lips when he meets your eye. “Y/n,” he rasped as he braced his hands on either side of the doorframe. “That was a lot longer than I expected it to be. I’m sorry.”

Shrugging, you place your phone next to you on the couch and gesture for him to come over. “It’s alright, I figured it must be something important if your manager was keeping you,”

He walks further into the room and eyes the dark velvet couch. “When did this come?”

“A few hours after you left,” you answer as he sits next to you. “It came with a coffee and side table, but the delivery guys couldn’t put them together for me. I told them my boyfriend would.” You give him a teasing grin and he shakes his head. 

“Yeah, alright,” he mumbles and leans back. “I’ll have one of the guys come over tomorrow or something and we’ll put together all the new furniture.”

You nod and move closer to him. “Okay,” you trace your fingers up and down his arm that didn’t have any tattoos at all and debate on whether or not you should tell him that you ended up sending in an application to that school in London. If you told him now then didn’t get in, you’d be embarrassed, but then again, you knew he would never let you feel embarrassed about anything, so what the hell. “I sent an application in for that program.”

Anakin lifts his head and looks over at you. “For the one in London?” He asks and you nod. He gives you a somewhat forced smile and reaches over to lace his fingers with yours. “That’s great, baby. You’ll get accepted, you’re too smart not to.”

You grin and press a kiss to the back of his hand. “Still down for coming with me?” He stiffened a bit then tried to play it off, but you caught onto it. “What? Did you change your mind?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. London would be so fucking fun to go to with you, but I’m not sure I’d actually be able to,”

You furrow your brows. “Why not?”

He looks conflicted for a second before finally meeting your eyes as he sits up straight. “Helena says we’ve been given a few extra locations to perform at. They’ve been added to the tour, basically,”

You give him a confused look. “But the tour is over. It has been for months,” 

“I know, but it’s been extended as of the end of this month,” he says and you break eye contact in order to stare at the floor in slight shock.

“They can do that?” 

“I guess so,” he mumbled. “She also wants us to record more songs as soon as we’ve got a draft ready. Something about needing to keep the hype alive and to get people excited for the new tour locations.”

You nod slowly and turn back to face him, giving him a weary expression. “So, what does that mean? You’re going back on tour?”

Anakin shrugs sadly. “Yeah, in a few weeks,” he confirms and runs his thumb over your knuckles. “But I don’t want this to affect your decision of going to that school, okay? I want to go with you, and I want you to come with me, but I also want you to do this for yourself. You’ve worked too hard to not give it a try.”

A silence passes over the two of you for a few seconds as you try to process everything. 

Anakin was going on tour again, and you had just applied for the writing program. He wanted you to go with him, but he also wanted you to go to London. The course would only be a few months, so you wouldn’t be away from him for too long, but it still didn’t make it any easier. 

“I might not even get in,” you remind him and move so you’re pressed against his side. “And I want to go with you. Who else will silently cheer you on from backstage?”

He pulls you tight against him and kisses the side of your head. “Hopefully no one,” he says. “Your spot backstage is just that, yours. It’s no one else’s….even if you can’t come with me this time.”

You hum and fist his shirt in your hand. “We’ll just have to see what happens,”

-

After you and Anakin spend the rest of the night on the couch and in each other’s arms, you end up heading to bed at one in the morning. It was nearing ten when you pulled yourself out of the empty bed and made your way down the hall, pausing as you passed by the living room. 

Anakin is busy hooking up the TV as you lean against the doorframe, eyeing his shirtless torso. “Wow, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” you tease and watch as he turns to look over at you.

“Wow, look who got up after me for once,” he teased back as he hooked up the HDMI cord. 

“I know, I’m surprised, too,” you say and push off the frame. “Why are you up so early, anyway?”

Anakin plugs the TV cord into the wall before pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Vin called me a while ago,” he answered. “I answered it before it woke you up, too, and I couldn’t fall asleep after that. Figured I’d get a start on hooking this up.”

He gestured to the TV and you nodded, nuzzling closer to him. “Is he coming over later?”

“Yeah, him and Theo,” he said. “We’re going to write a bit after putting together the coffee table and your shelf, that was the deal I made with them.”

You shake your head and laugh. “Now that is not surprising,” 

He laughs and sets the cord down to give you his full attention. “Hey, have you heard back from that program yet? Did you check your email for any follow ups?”

Your smile drops a bit as you shake your head. “No,” you answer.

Anakin gives you a small grin as he presses a kiss to your temple. “I bet you had the best application that school has ever seen,” he hypes you up and it helps more than he probably knew. You were smiling by the time he added, “You’ll hear back soon, I’m sure, and with good news.”

You grin and he kisses you again, much deeper than the last one. It made it hard to pull away from, but you somehow managed to so you could go make something to eat. 

As you wait for the stove to heat up so you can make pancakes, you go on Instagram and immediately let out a scream at the first post that showed up in your feed. At the sound of your scream, Anakin practically sprints into the kitchen and looks around as if scanning the room for any sign of immediate danger. “What? What’s wrong?”

You look up at him and meet his eye as you say, “You, you’re what’s wrong,”

Anakin gives you a confused look as he takes your phone from you when you shoved it into his hand. He hesitantly takes his eyes off you in order to find out what made you scream like that, and almost immediately felt his face heat up at what he was met with on your phone. “I…oh,”

“When the fuck did you get those taken? And why the fuck didn’t you give me a warning so I could’ve mentally prepared myself to see that?”

Anakin’s lips sport an embarrassed smile as he hands your phone back to you. “I didn’t realize that they were posting those today,” he says, referring to the photos from the shoot he did during his last week on tour. He was called in for a quick interview with SLACKERS Magazine and had a couple pictures taken to go with the interview, but he completely forgot about it until now. 

It was done on the day you were stuck in the bus with food poisoning, so you really had no idea he had even done this, and he probably should have given you a heads up, but he genuinely just forgot. The photo that was on the cover was one of him shirtless and covered in mud, and he was surprised that he actually had a lot of fun taking those pictures. That was his first time on a photoshoot set, and he knew it wouldn’t be his last. 

“You didn’t realize? What the fuck, Ani! You look hot,” you gushed over him as you scrolled through the pictures again. “You really need to make an Instagram account so you can post these. Imagine all the likes you’d get.”

He instantly shot that idea down. “Not a chance,”

“Oh, come on, Ani, it’s fun! You can read all the sappy captions I’ve written about you over the past four years,” you teased and he just laughed. 

“That’s tempting,” he shook his head with a smile and pressed a quick kiss to your mouth. “I’ll think about it.”

You playfully roll your eyes and push on his chest. “Don’t be such an old man and get Instagram,” 

He softly glared at you. “I said I’d think about it,” he called out as he left the kitchen in order to get the TV working before the guys came over. 

-

“Quit being such an old man and make an account,” Vinny mumbled as he scribbled down a potential lyric onto a page of the notebook in front of him. 

Anakin sits up straight, pausing the flicking of his pencil as he looks over at his friend. “You’re the second person that called me an old man today,” he says and ignores the quiet laugh that leaves Theo from his spot on the ottoman. “Y/n called me that, too.”

Vinny shrugged, looking up from the notebook. “She’s not wrong, man,” he replied and tossed the book aside so he could lean back on the couch. “You’re missing out, that’s all. Our band’s account has over three million followers now, and I bet you had no idea.”

Anakin’s eyes widen in shock as he sets his own notebook down. “Seriously? Three million?” He asks and both Vinny and Theo nod at him. “Y/n updates me sometimes, but we were barely at two million the last time she told me.”

Vinny shrugged again and leaned over to sip on his beer. “That was probably before we released Sugar,” he thought out loud. “That song did really well and gave us a lot of exposure on TikTok.”

Smirking, Anakin looks away before he slipped up and told the guys what inspired him to write that song - as if the lyrics weren’t enough of a giveaway. A month before moving to this apartment, Anakin went down on you in the middle of packing and was instantly hit with a song idea after he got you off. He even postponed your offer of a round two in order to scribble out a draft of the song.

He refined it a week later and got the guys to add whatever they wanted to it, and a few weeks after that it was released. 

The song was very obviously about going down on a girl, more specifically, you, and he supposed that was enough to get them trending on that dumb app once again. 

“We should add Sugar to the setlist,” Theo suggested as he strummed the strings on his bass. 

Anakin perked up at that as he dropped the book onto the coffee table he and Vinny put together an hour or so ago and pulled out his phone. “That’s a great idea,” he agreed and knew that would probably be his new favorite song to perform live. He scrolled through the app store and muttered something under his breath before installing Instagram.

After messing around with the app for a bit, he had made his username ‘anakin_skywalker’ and uploaded a photo you took of him when he was looking out the window of the tour bus a few months back as his profile picture. He browsed through his gallery before settling on a selfie of the two of you he took on the last day of tour. You were both smiling and squinting at the camera as you tried to block the sun from your eyes, and it was probably one of his favorite photos of you and him. 

He made that picture his first post with the caption being a simple red heart. 

Anakin was still shocked to see that the band’s account did, in fact, have over three million followers when he followed it himself, as well as Vinny, Theo and you. Once he’s done stalking your account and scrolling through all the photos of you he had never seen before, he sets his phone down and that is when he hears the door to the bedroom open and the sound of fast paced footsteps coming down the hall.

“Anakin! You made an account!” You cheer as you throw yourself onto his lap. “I knew you’d give in.”

He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Not really, I just wanted to see if we really did hit three million followers. Thanks for telling me, by the way,” 

“Oh, whatever,” you scoffed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Your first post is us! I love that picture.”

Anakin grinned down at you. “Me too, princess,” he kissed you quickly. “But I’m a bit annoyed that I had to put a stupid underscore in my username. Seriously, who the fuck took ‘anakinskywalker’ when that’s literally the most unique name ever?”

“Fan account, probably,” Vinny answered before waving at you. “Hey, Y/n. Will we be blessed to have you join us on tour again?”

You tense a bit in Anakin’s arms, something you’re sure he noticed but didn’t say anything about, thankfully. “Maybe. I applied for this program thing that is set around the same time the tour starts,”

“Ah,” Vinny nods and smiles at you. “That’s cool.”

“It’s very cool,” Anakin corrects him as he slides one hand up to caress the back of your head. “My girl’s the smartest one out of all of us combined.”

Theo tilts the neck of his beer bottle in your direction. “Now that’s very true,” he smiled at you and you shook your head, wrapping one arm around your boyfriend’s shoulders. 

“You think too highly of me, all of you,” you brush off their words and stand up. Anakin reluctantly lets you go and leans back against the couch, eyeing the small tattoo on the side of your wrist as you look at your phone. “Wow, Ani, you’ve already got nineteen thousand followers.” 

“Fuck,” he laughed and looked at your screen when you showed him. “Is it too late to delete it now?”

“Yes,” you confirm and lean down to place a chaste kiss to his mouth. “So don’t bother.”

Anakin tries to pull you back onto his lap, but you just grin at him before pulling away completely and shoving your phone in your pocket. 

“I’ll leave you guys to continue writing and go get dinner,” you say and begin to back out of the room “Any requests?” 

“Get Chinese food,” Theo suggests, adding a quick “Please” once he saw the glare Anakin gave him at his demanding words to you. 

You laugh and lightly slap Anakin’s shoulder, instantly making his glare soften. “Be nice, it’s okay,” you murmur. “Chinese food it is. I’ll be back soon.”

Anakin watched your retreating form until you disappeared around the corner and left through the door. When he turned back to the guys, he found them smirking at him. “Dude, you are so whipped,” Vinny laughed as he picked up his notebook. 

Anakin rolled his eyes. “As if I wasn’t already aware of that,”

“How will you make it without her if she does this program thing?” Theo asks, making Anakin look over at the blond.

He really hadn’t thought about it, simply because he didn’t want to imagine going on tour without you there to cheer him on from backstage. He wanted you to do this program and wanted you to make a career out of it, but he also wanted you with him every day. 

For nearly five years he hadn’t spent longer than a week away from you, and that was including all the times he had to sneak you into his parents house back when you were both seventeen.

He couldn’t imagine spending more than a couple months without you. In fact, he was sure he physically couldn’t be away from you for that long. “I don’t know,” he answered as honestly as he could, not wanting to come off as even more whipped for you. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

The guys just nod and go back to writing lyrics and notes, leaving Anakin to get lost inside his own head as he thought about the very real possibility of having to be without you in a few weeks. 

-

A week goes by and Anakin has yet to see what the hype about Instagram is. 

He had over five hundred thousand followers now and still only one post, and even that had over three hundred thousand likes. He really only went on it to do exactly what you knew he would, which is to read your sappy but very romantic captions about him. 

Your latest one was probably his favorite so far, and it was a harsh dig at him. 

Y/nY/l/n: my 21 year old bf finally got ig and already has more followers than me and i’ve been here for seven years. seven. years. let that sink in, show off. you can delete it now.

The picture was one of you and him on the couch, both your tongues sticking out and hazy looks in your eyes. 

He had to laugh because you both looked high, despite neither of you ever touching a drug a day in your lives. Alcohol, on the other hand…well that’s a different story. 

“Maybe making an Instagram account was a bad idea,” Vinny commented as he looked over at Anakin from his place on the chair. “The dude won’t stop stalking his girlfriend’s account even though he lives with her.”

“What did you expect? More than half our songs are about Y/n,” Theo added and Anakin just shook his head and pocketed his phone.

“You’d be the same way if you landed yourselves a girl like her,” was all he said as he sat up in his own chair. 

“Hey, Clara is amazing, too,” Vinny defended his girlfriend, but there was no doubting that yours and Anakin’s relationship is a lot stronger than his and Clara’s. “And Theo is just a lost cause.”

Theo stuck his middle finger up as the two other guys laughed. “Thanks, asshole,” he mumbled as he looked back down at his phone. 

Vinny narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been looking at that all morning, man,” he points out. “Is everything okay?”

Anakin, too, noticed Theo’s recent phone obsession, but isn’t as vocal as Vinny is about that kind of thing, clearly. Vinny had no problem calling people out, and Anakin had to appreciate it to an extent, because he had been called out by him more times than he could count on one hand. It saved his ass many times when he got into disagreements with you and Vinny was the one who told him he needed to apologize.

Theo sighed and placed his phone on the coffee table. “It’s my mom,” he said as he crossed his arms. “She’s been feeling really sick lately and my sister and I are getting pretty worried about her.”

“Damn,” Vinny said under his breath, suddenly feeling bad about calling out his friend now.

“Is she okay? Should you be going back on tour right now with her feeling sick?” Anakin asked as he leaned over and braced his elbows on his knees. 

“She’s just not well, man,” Theo shrugged. “I told her about the tour and she said that I should go have fun and that Mary can look after her while I’m gone.”

Anakin nods and shares a look with Vinny. “We can ask Helena if we can push the tour back a few more months,” Vinny offers, but Theo just shook his head.

“No, it’s alright,” he waved his bandmates off. “I want to go back on tour. It’ll take my mind off it.”

“Okay,” Anakin said and leaned back in the chair. “Just keep us updated.”

Theo nodded as he asked, “Where is Helena, anyway?” 

Vinny shrugged and leaned back. “She’s usually on time, so whatever is keeping her must be important,” 

As if on cue, the door to the lounge opens and in walks their manager, done up in dress pants and a blouse. Her heels are loud against the floor as she makes her way over to them, a smile on her painted red lips and a folder in her hand. “Sorry, boys,” she apologizes as she sits next to Theo around the coffee table. “Traffic is no joke in this part of the city.”

Anakin laughs in agreement as he, too, got held up earlier this morning but still managed to make it to the studio by ten in the morning. “No worries, we get it,”

She gives him a grateful smile as she places her papers onto the table and leans over to scatter them around. “Okay, so you all know that you’re the first band I’ve ever managed, so we’re really learning how to do this together,” she starts, looking up at the three of them. “I was thinking that we need to do something to promote the shows that have been added. The tour ended a couple months ago, and I’m sorry to say this, but Sugar can only get us so far. It was a hit, yeah, but the fans need more. I’m really going to need you guys in the studio and making more music than you have so far. If you want to keep doing this for many years to come, we need more songs out by the time the next tour comes around.”

The thought of not singing or making music in the future was one Anakin didn’t want to think about, so he quickly pushed back his witty remarks and sat up even straighter, giving Helena his full attention as she began to go over a possible option for promo. 

-

You were at home alone and bored as Anakin had been whisked away to yet another band meeting. 

You were organizing your books when your phone went off from its place on the desk. Standing up from your crouched position and pushing away the box of hard covers, you grab your phone and click on the notification. It brought you to your email and your eyes widened a bit when you read the subject. 

Y/n, Congratulations!

Your hand was shaking a bit as you clicked on the email and read the first sentence.

Dear Y/n, 

We are thrilled to congratulate you on your acceptance into the Writing Program here at the Dun-Walsh Academy. 

You nearly dropped your phone as you read through the email about ten times before it really hit you. 

You did it. You got accepted. You did it.

You squeal a bit and jump up and down on the spot while hugging your phone to your chest, wishing that Anakin would hurry up and come home so you could share the news with him. 

Anakin.

You stopped jumping instantly as you remembered that he is going on tour again in a couple of weeks and wouldn’t be able to go with you to London like he wanted to.

“Shit,” you curse to yourself as you read the email again. 

You wanted to attend this school a lot more than you initially thought, but you also didn’t want to go without Anakin. You wanted to go on tour with him again and be his quiet cheerleader backstage. 

“Fuck,” you curse again and walk out of the shared office and into the living room. Sitting down on the couch and picking at your nails, you debate your options.

One; go to London, take the program and miss out on Anakin’s tour.

Or,

Two; bail on the program and go on tour with him. 

You were missing out on something either way. 

There will be other writing opportunities, right?

As awful as it sounds, you would rather choose Anakin over your own future, and that was a scary thought, but it was true. 

You were sitting there for about fifteen minutes before the door swung open and the sound of footsteps was heard. “Baby?” Anakin called out and you sat up a bit and set your phone aside.

“In the living room,” you called back and watched as your boyfriend entered the room not even a second later. “Hi.”

“Hey, pretty girl,” he said back as he leaned down to place a deep kiss to your mouth. He caressed your face as he pulled you back in for another quick peck before grinning down at you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” 

He smiled again and moved to sit next to you. “What’d you get up to today?”

You shrugged and picked up your phone again. “Nothing too exciting,” you answer. “Just sorted through a few more boxes.”

Anakin nodded and ran the tips of his fingers along the skin of your bare thigh. Your shorts did nothing to cover your legs from his intense gaze, and you swallow harshly as he mumbles a “That’s good,” in his deep, raspy voice. He leaned in to kiss you again, a much deeper one than before, and you moan quietly against his mouth. He hummed as he pulled away, “I love that sound.”

“Some would say you love it so much that you would put it in a song,” you teased, referring to the fact that he did include a recording of your moan in a song. 

He shrugged, smirking at you as he said, “The world needed to hear how hot you sound in bed,”

“Mhm, sure,” 

Anakin shrugged again before dropping the smirk a bit and moving to hold your hand in his. “Something’s on your mind,” he commented, lacing your fingers together and resting your joined hands on his thigh. “What is it?”

You knew he would be able to read you like an open book as soon as he returned home, so you didn’t bother hiding how you were feeling from him. “I heard back from that school,” you say and watch as he nods, urging you to continue. “I got accepted.”

Anakin stays still as his eyes flicker all over your face. His hand tightened around yours just slightly as he exhaled through his nose before smiling over at you. “I knew you would,” he brought your hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I’m so proud of you.”

Unable to stop yourself, you move so you’re straddling him and his hands are on your hips instantly. “But you’re going back on tour,” you point out. “You can’t come with me to London.”

Anakin gives you a forced smile. “We’ll figure it out,” he assured you, but it didn’t help much. “Yeah, I’m going on tour, but that’s my future. This is yours.”

You bite down on your lip as you process his words. “But we’ve never been away from each other for that long,” you nearly whisper. “Not since we were in high school.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he promised, kissing your forehead. “We’ll be fine, we always are. It’s only a few months, and I think Helena said that one of the new tour locations is in London, so you can come see that one. I’ll need my biggest fan at one of the shows, at least.”

You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I’ll give it up for you,” you murmured. “You know that.”

“I know you would,” he responds and pulls you against his chest. “And I love you for that, but I can’t hold you back from making a potential career out of this. I couldn’t, not after you’ve been so supportive of me and the band.”

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “We have two weeks until the tour,” you inform him. “Two weeks until I need to be in London.”

Anakin pulled you even closer, inhaling your sweet vanilla scent he knew he would be missing for months. “Then we better start making up for lost time now,” 

And that was how you found yourself completely exposed to his lust filled eyes as you break in the new couch by fucking him on it. 

Your clothing was strewn around the room and some of it hung off the couch as you sunk down on him at a fast pace. You were both pent up and anxious about having to spend three months away from one another, and you were putting that frustration into the way you fucked yourself onto him. “I love you, Ani,” you promised as you grind your hips against his. 

Anakin tilted his head so it was against the backrest of the couch, his firm grip on your waist helping you move on him. “I love you, too,” he said under his breath, sliding one hand to the front of your body so his thumb can rub harsh circles onto your clit. “I’m so fucking proud of you, princess. I always am.”

You sigh as you lean down to connect your lips in a kiss. “You feel so good, Ani,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his as you spoke. “Gonna make me come.”

“I want you to, baby,” he rasped, pinching your clit in a way that left you shaking against him. “I want it all over me.”

Your body shook a bit as your orgasm ripped through you, the rolling of your hips stalling as you cried out against his mouth. “Fuck, Ani, fuck,” you whine as he grips your waist to be able to thrust up into you. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he kissed all over your neck, the relentless clench of your walls making his vision blur a bit. “My good girl.”

His sweet praises make you whimper and cling to him tightly. “Anakin, please,” you begged. You were so sensitive, but you also needed to feel him fill you up because you would be missing out on the feeling of him for months. 

You seriously couldn’t believe you were considering leaving him for three months. That’s a whole quarter of a year. Your five year anniversary is coming up next month, are you really willing to spend your half a decade milestone away from him?

“Please…what?” He teased, but his voice wasn’t mocking at all. “What, pretty girl? What do you need?”

Your body shook as you tried your best to hold yourself up. “I need you,” you whispered and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body right up against yours. “Need it.”

“Yeah? You need it?” He asked, sliding his hands up your back and pulling you roughly down against him. His lips press against yours with every fuck of his hips and he filled you so well, you didn’t think you could ever get enough of him. “Need me to fill you up? Keep you nice and full for when those London boys think they have a chance with you?”

“God, Anakin,” you moan, rarely ever getting to see his jealous side come out. He never had a reason to get jealous as yours and his relationship was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes, so no one ever tried anything with either of you. Sure, people looked, but that was as far as it went. “Do it.”

And Anakin was never one to deny your wishes. 

With a couple more thrusts he was spilling himself deep within your wet walls and painting you white. “There you go, princess,” he grunts. “Take it.”

You moan breathlessly and release your tight grip on him, softly running your hands through his hair. “Fuck,”

Anakin laughs quietly, wrapping his arms around you and gently rubbing your hips in his large hands. “We’re going to have to do that non-stop until we’re both satisfied enough to be able to not have sex for three months,”

You smile at him, brushing your nose against his as you say, “I’ll come visit whenever I can. Honestly, I don’t think I can go that long without you,”

“Me either,” he agreed. “Please, come visit me whenever you can. I’ll buy the plane ticket or whatever you’ll use to come back to me, but please, come visit me.”

You nod and nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. “You know I will, Ani,”

While you were both reassured for now, doubts and worries were beginning to linger in the backs of both yours and Anakin’s heads, but neither of you would ever admit it.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: the mysterious blonde (PART 2)

pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: you are gigi’s best friend and you’re working on a project together… but her mysterious brother grayson hawthorne seems to be around every corner lately, it’s like you can’t avoid him… not that you’re complaining because maybe, just maybe you have a little thing for him…

parts: PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

warnings:

a/n: there is a first part to this story, so if I were you I’d check that one out first… and there is also a third part when you finish this one… this part is also very long, so apologies. thank you for reading :)

tag list: there is not tag list but let me know if you want to be on it :)

Gigi and I work on the project for a couple more hours after dinner but when it was getting a little too late I knew I needed to go.

“You know you can just sleep over,” Gigi says.

“I know but I need to get home tonight, maybe another time,” I reply, gathering my things.

“I have a spare toothbrush if that’s what you’re worried about,” she reassured me, “and it’s not been used at all.”

I laugh, she knows me too well, “no it’s not just that but thanks for letting me know. I promise I’ll stay another night just not tonight.”

“Okay,” she pouts, “but I’ll miss you.”

“I’m literally going to see you tomorrow,” I say.

Gigi gasps holding her heart, “no! Not tomorrow! That’s so long away!”

She falls backwards into her bed and plays dead.

I laugh, “you’ll survive.”

She sits up, her wide eyes looking almost impossible to say no to, “It’ll be difficult.”

“You’ll manage,” I chuckle as together we walk down the stairs.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” she asks one last time.

I nod sadly, then notice Savannah in the living room.

I poke my head in, “bye Savannah, see you soon.”

“Bye Y/N,” she winks at me, blowing me a kiss. I pretend to catch in the air and touch my cheek. She grins widely at me and sends me off with a quick wave. I make my way back towards the door, pulling my shoes on. I’m tying my laces when a voice comes from behind me.

“Are you leaving?”

I turn around and there he is. Grayson.

I nod, standing up straight, “gotta get some sleep.”

“Are you going to be okay on your own? It’s dark out,” he says, sounding almost concerned. It makes me want to kiss him even more.

“Oh yeah I’ll be find don’t worry,” I curse the words leaving my lips and curse myself for saying them

“I don’t mind taking you back, I’m going back to my home anyway,” he offers again.

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” I smiled shyly, tucking the loose strands of hair out of the way.

“You wouldn’t be,” he murmurs quietly, softly. I almost melt right there and then on the spot but pull myself together quickly to give an appropriate reply.

“It’s okay, I’ve done the journey a thousand times, I’m sure I’ll survive,” I assure him.

Now why the hell did I say that? I mentally kick myself for giving up time with that beautiful thing and make sure I have everything, that’s when I realise what I’m missing.

“Oh shoot, I forgot my jumper,” I groan aloud, knowing I’ll have to take my shoes off and put them back on all over again.

“I’ll go and grab it,” Grayson offers.

“It’s okay I can-“

“No I’ve got it, the grey one right?” he makes sure.

My face flushes, he remebers what I wore, “yeah that one.”

I want to jump up and down and do a happy dance but I manage to stop myself. Feeding into my delusions I convince myself that he definitely memorised the colour of my jumper because he’s madly in love with me not just because he’s a regular person who’s seen me in the last two hours who can recollect the colour of jumper. Grayson returns within a few moments holding my jumper. He walks towards me. It’s probably the closest I’ve been to him all night. It’s only now I notice how nice he smells. Not that I was sniffing him but he was naturally giving off the smell of his cologne, how I hoped to be giving off my perfume.

“Thank you so much,” I smile bashfully as he hands he the jumper. Our hands brush for a fraction of a second and I think my heart stops beating. I know this moment will replay non stop in my mind until there is twelve fanfiction and several movies made about the slightest of contact.

“You’re most welcome,” he says, “it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah you too,” I reply, “… well goodbye, for now.”

“Goodbye for now,” he repeats, retreating to wherever he came.

I wipe the idiotic grin off of my face and turn back to Gigi, who’d I forgotten was standing there the whole time. And I suddenly felt guilty for that but brushed it off to say my goodbyes. It was then she asked me a question.

“So what did you think of my brother?”

“He seemed nice,” I say, except he was a bit more than nice to me. He was a gentleman who was sweet and really hot and irresistibly poetic. I wanted nothing more than to run my fingers through his golden hair and kiss him with the much passion his lips would burn and his eyes would water… but of course I couldn’t tell Gigi that.

“I think he liked you,” she says,

“What?” I exclaim a little too loudly, my eyes wide, my heart racing in anticipation and excitement and maybe even fear,

“I think he thought you were really nice too and he definitely approves of you as my friend,” she adds.

I’d clearly gotten the wrong end of the stick. Now I felt entirely stupid for believing for a second that someone like him could ever like someone like me.

“Oh,” I say trying to stop my sinking heart and to not sound too disappointed, “that’s good then.”

Gigi nods, “same again tomorrow?”

“You got it girl,” I nod.

She hugs me tightly and kisses my forehead, before softly booping my nose, “see you later alligator.”

I do the same to her, replying with, “in a while crocodile.”

***

That night I lay in my bed and I couldn’t stop thinking about Grayson Hawthorne. Everything about him was on my mind. And oh his voice. It replayed over and over like a broken record but I didn’t care. It actually soothed me, made me feel calmer. I could see in my mind every inch of his perfect face. The exact few flecks of blue in his stormcloud eyes when the light hits them right, the way his eyelashes are darker than his golden hair and the fact that he wore a single silver band on his middle finger.

The next few days I’d go to Gigi’s hoping Grayson would be there too. But the next day he wasn’t, much to my disappointment. Gigi and I worked on the project all through the afternoon and evening and yet he failed to make an appearance. I left feeling somewhat unfulfilled and disappointed. Even though I didn’t see him in person though, I did see him that night. I never dreamed vividly but that night I had the most spectacular dream I’ve ever had. It was like I had some obsessive disorder over the guy, I cared so much he was not infecting my sleep. I’d dreamed of us sitting on a sunset beach in each other’s arms, discussing a future that revolved around our love for one another.

When I wake up suddenly and sit up straight in my bed. I come to a realisation. I just might be in love with Grayson Hawthorne.

***

On Friday, I sleep over, just as I had promised Gigi. After finishing the project and then possibly having a dance party in celebration, we feel straight to sleep in her bed. I am awoken by nothing in particular and roll over. Gigi is still asleep, her limbs spread across the entirety of the bed, even my side, snoring in the most adorable way. I smile and then lay back into my back staring up at the plain, empty ceiling. I decide that I need a cup of tea. I’m comfortable enough with everyone in this house to know that I shouldn’t be shy to make myself a cup of tea in the morning. I was often over at Gigi’s house and everyone living here was constantly reminding me to just grab whatever I wanted when I wanted it. I crawl over Gigi’s body, careful not to land on her or wake her. Not that it would be possible, she was such a deep sleeper, I doubted an earthquake could wake her.

Once I’d made my way out of the bed, I pulled a pair of socks on and left the room. I didn’t bother to brush my hair or wash my face, presuming I’d just walk back up after my tea was ready. I yawn, walking down the stairs lazily, in attempts to get to the kitchen. I slowly grab a mug from the cupboard and put the kettle on to boil.

“Good morning.”

The voice is so surprising that I jump out my skin, screaming aloud. I spin around, clutching my chest, breathing heavily to recover from the initial shock. None other than Grayson Hawthorne is standing behind me shirtless… fucking shirtless. It was 6am in the morning and this man looks like some sort of glowing Greek god in contrast to me who has raccoon eyes and a rat’s nest for hair.

“Sorry if I startled you,” he says soothingly.

I let a breath out, “oh, no worries. Just didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

I run my finger through in attempt to tame the knotted mess and quickly brush the sleep from my eyes, suddenly realising I was standing there in my pyjamas. I try and not let my face heat up as I lean on the kitchen side.

“I thought you were only Wednesdays?” I say, tilting my head slightly.

“I wanted to stay for the weekend, my brothers are all off elsewhere and it’s nice to spend some time with my sisters,” he explains.

Suddenly I feel guilty… was I stealing him away from his sisters?

“Sorry if I’m getting in the way,” I say.

“Oh no no no, not like that,” he says quickly, “it’s nice to spend time with you too, I’ve missed so much of their lives so even the little things like getting to know who my sisters friends are, are important moments for me.”

“Oh… thanks…” I reply awkwardly as the kettle finishes boiling, “okay so I’m going to make some tea, care for any?”

“Yes, actually,” he nods, smiling slightly, “I was just going to do that.”

“Do you drink tea a lot?” I ask, trying not to cringe at my own horrible small talk skills.

“A cup every morning,” Grayson replies, “you?”

“Exactly the same,” I smile.

I make the two mugs of tea in silence, feeling his eyes pinned to my every move. It made me nervous that he was staring so intently. I discover that he too only takes a splash of milk in his tea and no sugar. We stand together, leaning on the counters, drinking our cups of tea.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night at dinner,” he says.

“Last night?” I ask, trying to recall the dinner, “oh I’d literally forgotten, it’s okay”

He nods and takes a delicate sip of tea, then begins to say, “Y/N-“

“Morning.”

I turn to see Savannah waking through the door in full sports gear, holding her training bag. Her hair was in a dutch plait the went into a ponytail. She freezes when she sees both me, in my pyjamas, and a shirtless Grayson, standing together drinking tea in her kitchen. Savannah gaze flicks between me and Grayson a few time before narrows her eyes at me. I subtly shake my head, knowing what she was presuming. Her eyebrow quivers upwards but I ignore it.

“Morning,” Grayson replies, “did you sleep okay?”

“Fine,” she says quickly, “I see you two are getting acquainted.”

She stares me down accusingly and I sigh, “yes, well it’s nice to meet my best friends’ brother.”

“Maybe a bit more than nice,” she murmurs under her breath so I can hear but Grayson can’t.

“Not true,” I whisper.

“How long have you been up anyway?” she asks, directing the question at Grayson.

“About half an hour,” he says.

“I’m off to train, see you guys later,” she says, grabbing some food and water before heading out of the door.

Neither me nor Grayson dare to say anything else. Empty space hangs in the air and there’s something we both want to say but are too cowardly to do so.

“She doesn’t like me talking to you,” he says, being the brave one of the two of us.

“Oh?” I question, playing dumb.

“I don’t know why but she doesn’t,” he shrugs.

“Oh that’s a shame,” I say, “does that mean you’re going to stop talking to me?”

“Well I never said that,” Grayson replies, “I’m not someone who does something based on others likes or dislikes and I don’t intend to start today.”

“That’s good then,” I smile, taking another swig of my now lukewarm tea.

He smiles back softly and I hear my heart thumping in my ears. In this moment words aren’t needed, conversation is unnecessary, talking seems silly. Because everything is carried in our eyes and our smiles that we can’t seem to shake. I take in his beauty again and enjoy this silent moment. His eyes and glued to mine and neither of us can seem to physically turn away at this point in time.

Interrupting the moment was a small voice attached to a sleepy face and oversized teddy-bear slippers, “am I the last up?”

Gigi trudged into the kitchen also in her pyjamas, one sleeve falling off of her shoulder. Her loose braids had nearly completely falling out, baby hairs flying everywhere. She looked the most tired out of all of us despite getting the most sleep. Grayson and I immediately turn our eyes away from one another.

“Of course,” I tease her, poking my tongue out.

“Where’s Savannah then?” she counters, arms folded, eyebrows raised.

“At training,” I reply, “you just missed her.”

“Gray? I didn’t realise you were coming so early,” she remarks, finally noticing his presence.

“Savannah let me in,” he says, “I’m going to go and get ready now.”

“Okay, see you later,” she replies, with a lopsided grin.

I watch as he walks out and as he turns back and makes eye contact with me, sending my heart fluttering. Gigi sighs and then picks up a cookbook on the side, “do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Chocolate chip pancakes?”

“You know me so well,” she says, her face breaking out into a wide smile.

“Let’s get cooking,” I say, grabbing the spatula sitting on the side.

***

Gigi and I would like to think of ourselves as somewhat pro chefs when in reality we’d make a mess, have a laugh and produce something somewhat edible. It may not always look edible but it always seemed to taste delicious. This morning our chocolate chip pancakes came out in questionable shapes and sizes but were fluffy and delicious.

“I swear we should enter a cooking show,” Gigi tells me, looking like she’d entered heaven at the first bite.

“And make chocolate chip pancakes?” I chuckle.

“What’s wrong with that? Who doesn’t love choclate chip pancakes,” she replies.

“Judges on cooking shows,” I reply, “besides look how dilapidated they look.”

“But the taste is so good,” she says, her eyes wide, almost bursting with enjoyment.

“That is one thing I can agree with,” I nod, shovelling another forkful of goodness into my mouth.

At that moment Grayson walks in and we pause conversation. He is now dressed in a suit that compliments just about any and every angle of the man. The suit had clearly tailored just to his body type. How could he be so overdressed yet act so casual? As if this were the norm. Maybe it was for him. It certainly was making me and Gigi look very uncouth still in our pyjamas.

“We made pancakes,” Gigi tells him proudly, “you should try them, they’re like eating liquid gold.”

“Liquid gold doesn’t sound all that appetising,” he replies.

Gigi groans, “just try this.”

She stands up and puts a bit of pancake into her brother’s mouth. He has no choice but to try it now. He chews thoughtfully and swallows. And suddenly I’m nervous and I don’t even know why because it’s just a pancake. Just a chocolate chip pancake that I’d baked with my best friend and I was absolutely petrified of what Grayson would think.

“They’re actually really good,” he nods.

I take a breath of relief and feel stupid for feeling so worried over a damn pancake.

“See?” she says.

“I’m going out for a walk,” Grayson tells her, “I’ll be back in in an hour, alright?”

“Okay,” Gigi nods.

“Anyone need anything,” he asks.

“No,” she replies.

“Y/N?”

I startle at my own name and startle even more when I realise he cared enough to ask me.

I look up and smile, praying my blush wasn’t as bold as I felt it was, “no thank you.”

He nods and leaves. I listen as the door shuts and his footsteps fade. When I turn back to Gigi she’s grinning widely and staring right at me.

“What?” I ask her, my tone flat and bored.

“You like him!” she exclaims.

“No I don’t,” I lie.

“How did you know who I was talking about?” she grins, backing me into a corner.

“Because the only ‘him’ around just walked out of this house,” I say, keeping my cool. She could not find out.

“Okay but you like him,” she presses on.

“I don’t Gigi,” I state, more harshly than I’d intended.

“Yes you do!” she tells me.

“Yes I do,” I groan, giving up on keeping this pathetic lie going on any longer.

“Oh my sparkling rainbow gumdrops you like him, you like him, you like him,” she yells, disguarding her beloved pancakes.

“Scream it even louder Gigi I don’t think the aliens Jupiter quite heard you,” I hiss.

“Sorry but this is the biggest piece of news in my life,” she squeals practically bouncing up and down, “my best friend likes my brother.”

“He cannot know,” I warn, my tone sincere and dangerous.

“My lips are sealed,” she grins, miming locking her lips and throwing away the key.

“I mean it Gigi,” I say.

“I know you do,” she says sincerely before she breaks out into a large smile, “you two would actually look so cute together! Oh my flying sea-lions and leprechauns when you guys get married we’ll be sisters!”

“Woah woah woah, slow down,” I say with a nervous laugh. Leave it to Gigi to start envisaging a whole lifetime of us together.

“Can’t,” she tells me, “I’m already picturing the wedding.”

“Gigi!” I exclaim.

“And your children,” she cries, clutching the left side of her chest melodramatically, “oh they’d be so cute,”

“Oh my-“

“I think we should get some coffee and discuss your future,” she says, a bit too seriously for my liking

“You are not going anywhere near coffee espeically not now and there is no future,” I reply, “I like him sure, but nothing will come of it I’m sure. He’s probably got his eye on some pretty, smart, rich girl.”

“I ship you too hard for him to fall for a pretty, smart, rich girl,” she says, “besides why would he rather that than a drop-dead gorgeous, kind and funny girl, he’s really missing out if you ask me.”

“Thanks Gigi, but I don’t think it’s happening,” I sigh

“That’s a shame because I already had so many dress options to show you,” Gigi explains, “there’s literally a whole catalogue upstairs.”

“You are mental,” I laugh.

“But you love me,” she smile sweetly.

“But I love you,” I reply.

a/n: I promise there is way more grayson x reader action in PART 3 but I hope you enjoyed this anyways :)

more fics like this on my TIG masterlist

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Dreaming Of You

PAIRING | Husband!Dad!Robert Downey Jr. x Wife!Mom!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.9K

SUMMARY | Life with your husband, Robert, and your three-month-old son, Joseph, has been nothing short of a dream, and you are grateful you get to live this life with him. When you find out you're having another baby after almost a year and a half later, you get a surprise of a lifetime, and the love between you and your husband only grows stronger because of it.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | RPF, established relationship, age gap, use of nicknames (Gorgeous, Bubba), referenced pregnancy, breastfeeding.

SMUT | Dirty talk, hair pulling, praising, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), cream pie.

A/N | @ccbsrmsf1 gifted me this idea after she had a fantastic dream, and it is an honor to turn it into a full story for you! This idea kept melting my heart while at the same time making it beat faster with every passing second, and I am incredibly proud of the result. I hope you love it as much as I did when writing it, and I thank you so much for sharing this! I love you 3000 💙

A/N 2.0 | This one-shot is proofread by @late-to-the-party-81, for which I'm very grateful! Thank you for all your support on my blog and your feedback because it took this story to a whole different level! 💙

EVENTS Masterlist | @anyfandomaubingo | Author!Reader Masterlist | @anyfandomfluffbingo | Secret twin Masterlist | @anyfandomkinkbingo | Cupping Masterlist | @sweetspicybingo Winter | The Nightmare Before Christmas

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist

You have heard many stories about having a baby—many good, some not. However,  despite all that, you've been living on a blue cloud since your little boy, Joseph, was born a just over three months ago. Ever since he came into your life, he has brightened every second, and seeing the expressions softening on your husband's face is priceless. Every time he steps through your front door, you can see him visibly relax at the sight of his precious son, which warms your heart.

Robert has been under quite a bit of stress lately due to his busier-than-normal work schedule, but he will always make time for you two, for which you'll always be grateful. Family has always been very important to Robert, and since your son was born, he's been trying to be home more and more, much to your delight.

Right now, you're sitting on the couch breastfeeding Joseph—or Joe, for short—while watching The Nightmare Before Christmas, one of your favorite movies to watch all year round. While Joe happily suckles away, you hear Robert's keys turn the lock on the front door, notifying you that your husband is home again.

"Daddy's home, Bubba. Are you excited to see him again?" you ask Joe. He smiles with your nipple still in his mouth, which makes your heart melt a little bit.

"Oh, look at the two of you! Are my two favorite people having fun on the couch together without me?!" Robert asks with faux surprise, and it makes you chuckle. You look at him with a love-filled look, and he gives one in return as he sits beside you.

Before you got pregnant, you two were already very close and very in love, but your love has only increased tenfold since the birth of your son. He leans in to give you a soft peck on your lips, and the small gesture makes you feel very loved.

"We are. He got hungry a little sooner than usual, so I figured I'd feed him now so he wouldn't have to wait too long. How was your day today?" you ask with a soft smile, but his soft expression gives way to one filled with worry.

"I have to go to New York for two weeks tomorrow. I tried to get out of it, but sadly, I cannot, for which I'm very sorry, Gorgeous," Robert sighs, his brows knitted together as he looks at you with a regret-filled expression.

"Hey, it's okay. Maybe we can join you in the second week. I have to finish my manuscript for my new book this week, but once I send it to my editor, I have all the time to visit you with him. I'm sure he wouldn't mind seeing his Daddy again either," you say as you reposition him slightly to be more comfortable.

"That would be amazing, Gorgeous, but only if you're sure. If you'd rather stay home-" is all he can say before you cut him off with another kiss. You can feel him melt a little into your gesture, his shoulders losing some of the tension he held onto this entire time.

"I'm sure, Robert. I want to be by your side, and I cannot stay away from you for too long; you should know that by now," you say with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. He lets himself be comfortable by your side while looking at his son. He looks exactly like you, from the facial features to the hair and skin color, although you both suspect he will end up with Robert’s eye color. It's abundantly clear he combines your shared love, and Robert couldn't be happier.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" you whisper, and Robert nods softly before letting his finger glide over Joe's cheek, feeling its softness against his skin. He already looked forward to coming home to you every day, but now that you have a baby, he definitely can’t stay away anymore.

"I love you both so much," Robert whispers in turn, and you give him a soft kiss on the top of his head. All three of you stay like that until Joe is done feeding; Robert takes him out of your arms to get burped and gives him a clean diaper. You decide to take a much-needed shower and take care of yourself for a bit.

"Thank you so much for taking over; I'll go take a shower and start dinner so you can have some much-needed baby time," you tell him, and Robert nods with a big smile. He wants to soak up every second he can now that his son is still small, especially since he's often gone due to his hectic schedule.

"I'd love nothing more, Gorgeous," he tells you, and you retreat to the shower for some personal time. Taking care of a baby and finishing your manuscript for your latest book is a challenge, and even though you love doing both with all your heart, you also know you wouldn't have been able to do it without his help.

When you walk down the stairs 30 minutes later, feeling refreshed and wearing a nice set of comfortable PJs—which consist of not much more than a pair of booty shorts and one of his shirts -Robert is sitting on the couch with his knees pulled up and Joe on his lap while playing peek-a-boo. Your heart skips a beat or two at the sight of your son's laughter.

As you listen to them bonding, you start on dinner, and it doesn't take long to finish cooking, seeing how you opted for a simple pasta dish today. As you do that, Joe is starting to get sleepy, so Robert decides to put him down for a nap.

"I'll be right back, Gorgeous. He just let out the biggest yawn I've ever seen him do, so I have a feeling he might benefit from a little nap. You were also feeding him early, so I think he's just being a sleepy little boy today," you look over at your husband and son, a warmth flooding through you at the sight and a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"He didn't sleep much during his afternoon nap, so I am not surprised he's this sleepy already," you say, and Robert nods in understanding. Even though Joe usually sleeps like a champ, he's having an off day today and will benefit from having another nap now.

"Sleep well, Bubba," you whisper to Joe before giving a soft peck on his cheek, to which he gives a sleepy smile in return. While Robert puts him down for his nap, you finish dinner, and both finish eating soon after. The conversation flows naturally and is light, but it's the perfect way to destress for a little while.

"What do you think of having a cuddle session on the couch? He'll be out like a light for the foreseeable future, and I have missed you way too much today," Robert says as you put the last plate away after the dishes, his chest plastered against your back.

"Depends on the kind of cuddle session you're thinking of," you say as you turn in his hold, giving him a raised brow as you look up at him. He's quite a bit taller than you are, so you have to crane your neck a little, making Robert chuckle.

"I think you know exactly what kind I'm talking about, Gorgeous," Robert says, his voice dropping slightly as he does. He leads the two of you to the couch before sitting down and pulling you with him, and you cannot suppress a little shriek that comes out.

As he gets comfortable on the couch, you move to straddle his lap, and your mouths quickly find each other in a heated, passionate kiss. His fingers are digging into your hips as he grinds you over his growing erection, and soft whimpers are swallowed in your kisses.

"Missed you so fucking much, Gorgeous, you make me so happy, and I want another baby with you," he tells you, and your eyes go wide at his confession. Did he say what you think he did? You take a short moment to let it sink in, and your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth as you do so.

"I would love nothing more, Robert; I want at least three babies with you!" you tell him, and the smile on his face is indescribable. Lust quickly seems to take over his body as he pulls you closer, your hips grinding over his clothed member again while more soft whimpers escape, leaving you needing more, needing him.

"Robert, please," you say, and he knows exactly what you want. You scoot back far enough to free his cock; the tip flushed red as a bead of pre-cum is gathered at the slit. The veins running along have your mouth watering as you desire to run your tongue over them, and your pussy clenches around nothing.

Your shorts are pulled to the side quickly, allowing you to sink onto his cock as you take it inch by inch. Your walls envelop him completely and deliciously, making both of you moan in unison.

"You're so sexy when you sit on my cock, Gorgeous," he whispers with a lopsided grin as his fingers softly squeeze your hips, and you look into his deep, dark brown eyes when you bottom out. Your lip is pulled between your teeth to suppress a groan, being mindful that you won't wake up your sleeping son.

Once you've adjusted to his cock inside you, you lift yourself before bottoming out again, setting a slow pace for the two of you to enjoy while your fingers tangle into his hair, messing it up as you catch his mouth with yours in a slow, passionate kiss.

Robert's fingers are digging into the soft flesh of your hips to ground himself, not wanting to shoot his load right away. Even though you two had a lazy session of morning sex that very same day, you two will never get enough of each other, and this moment is evidence of just that.

"G-Gorgeous, please," Robert stammers out as his gaze locks onto yours, your eyes half-lidded as the pleasure courses through your body, his plea settling into the butterflies going wild in your body.

"Please, let me fuck a baby into you. You know I love it when you ride me, but for the love of God, let me fuck a baby into you," he begs, and the words are slowly sinking in as the pleasure builds rapidly.

As soon as you give him the go-ahead, your back hits the soft fabric of the couch, and your thighs spread of their own accord to welcome him back. Before he lines up with your entrance, he teases your clit a little with the tip of his cock, making your back arch as he does.

"That's it, Gorgeous, doin' so well for me right now. 'M gonna give you all the babies you want when you're this good for me," he says as he nuzzles into your neck, the scent of your apple-scented shower gel still lingering on your skin.

He stays still for a moment after bottoming out, reveling in the pleasure of your warm, tight pussy wrapped around his cock before he starts moving slowly, taking his time before sliding back in as if he's savoring every stroke of his cock inside you. It's as if he's committing every inch of you to memory.

"So tight, so perfect, Gorgeous. I'm so lucky you want to give me all your babies. Allowing me to stuff you full with my cum until it drips out and you're pregnant," he groans as he keeps thrusting in and out of you slowly, taking his sweet time as he makes love to you.

"You're so beautiful, and I truly got lucky when I met you," he says as he looks into your eyes, and you can see his love grow with every passing second. Your arms are slung loosely around his neck, your fingers softly gripping the hair on the nape of his neck as he speeds up his thrusts every so often, the pleasure in both your bodies building quickly.

"R-Robert, 'm close," you moan softly, and he lets you know he's close too, based on the soft groans tumbling from his lips. Your legs wrap around his hips to pull him even closer - his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust has your eyes rolling back as the pleasure comes to a high.

"M almost there, Gorgeous, I'm close too," he pants out as he picks up the pace even more, his moans muffled by your shoulder as he cums. You both fall over the edge at the same time, and Robert takes his time to ride out both your orgasms before slipping out and pulling you on top of him on the couch.

When Robert takes a deep breath before saying something, you can hear little Joe over the baby monitor, and with a satisfied smile, you look at your husband.

"You go get cleaned up, and I'll go take care of him, okay?" you say, and he nods. You climb off of him, readjusting your shorts and shirt while he gets off the couch, carefully tucking himself away before going to get himself cleaned up, too.

"You're the best wife and mother we could have asked for, you know that? And I cannot wait to add another baby to our family to make your dreams come true," he says as he cups your cheeks and leans in to capture your lips with a sweet, soft kiss. Another flood of warmth and love swoops through your stomach.

"I love you, Robert, and I cannot wait either!" you tell him as you walk to the nursery, leaving Robert with a content smile. You're lucky to have met him, and building a life with him is the cherry on top of it all.

It has been almost a year since you and Robert decided to try and conceive again, and it took about six months before you got a positive test result. A few weeks later, you discover your baby is healthy and growing rapidly. But today is the day you will find out the gender of the little Nugget growing in your belly.

"Everything is looking good,” the sonographer says. “Are you excited to find out-" she cuts off suddenly and turns completely silent, except for the whirring of machines. A sense of dread fills you, and you squeeze Robert's hand. As you look at the baby monitor, your brows knit together, trying to understand what the sonographer sees. Your heart feels like it's sinking through the floor.

"Is everything okay with the baby?" Robert is the first to speak up, and you can feel a lump forming in your throat. For a moment, you're afraid your worst nightmare is becoming reality, but the sonographers next words confirm that nothing could be further from the truth.

"Well, yes. Everything is okay with the baby, but we read the ultrasound wrong the last time because you are pregnant with twins!" she says before profusely apologizing. All this time, you were growing two babies, and one of them is quite a lot smaller, so they have been hiding. You were growing a 'secret twin' of sorts.

"Can you tell their gender?" you ask, the relief evident in your voice. Your eyes are again trained on the monitor when she tells you the fantastic news, a flutter of excitement going through your chest and stomach as the words slowly sink in.

"You'll be having two wonderful, identical baby girls!" she says, and a huge relief washes over you. With these words, every ounce of worry washes away, and you look at Robert with tears. Not only will you have two more babies with him, but to have two girls at once is truly the cherry on top.

"I can't believe we'll be having twins! And two little girls; I think Joe will be happy to have two baby sisters to play with when they're older," you tell your husband, who has a huge smile. He's thrilled now, and you're happily sitting on a large, pink cloud.

Life couldn't be more perfect if you'd tried. With Robert getting another major movie role, your new book being published in a few weeks, and two babies on the way, you're going to have a busy life, but one you're looking forward to more and more every day.

"This is better than I could have ever dreamed of, Gorgeous," Robert tells you as you walk out of the doctor's office, your fingers interlaced with his as you do. Your free hand rubs your round belly, and a smile is stretched wide on your face.

"It's everything I ever dreamed of and more. Life finally feels perfect with an amazing husband like you, a beautiful son, and two more miracles on the way. Like I am exactly where I am supposed to be," you tell him as you're standing outside the doctor's office, the rays of sun shining down on both of you.

"I almost forgot how sappy you get when you're pregnant, but by God, do I love it. I'm lucky to have an amazing wife like you," he says with a broad smile before leaning in and capturing your lips with his. The rest of your life starts here, and you're looking forward to the day you'll be bringing your daughters home because that will be the day your lifelong dream has officially come true.

[ladykailitha]

The Magic of Christmas Part 4/8

Hello! How are you guys enjoying so far?

In this Steve realizes his feelings, Dustin and Robin decide Steve needs to live forever, and Steve gets roped into something he swore he'd never do.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

***

August was fucking miserable. Like the worst month of the year. After February. And January. And September...

That’s besides the point. The point was that AC had kicked the bucket in the middle of the biggest heatwave.

He was going to cry. The wizard piece turned out really well. Steve had loved all the little details that he had put in it.

But the rogue was giving him trouble. It was horrific. Because rogues were silent and mysterious, but the way Steve talked about Will, he was quiet kid, a bitchy teen, and a wild adult. Trying to figure his place in the world he kinda went punk. Dyed his hair bright green. Piercings and tattoos. Ripped clothes and combat boots.

Eddie slowly sat up. Well that’s a thought. He blinked for a moment. That could actually work.

Suddenly his phone rang. He frowned at the device. No one called anymore. It was all texts and DMs and Face Time. The name that came up because there was one, another surprising thing, was Steve.

He dived for the phone and managed to answer it before it went to voicemail.

“‘Ello?” he breathed.

“Hi, Eds,” Steve greeted cheerfully.

Eds.

Fuck.

The things that little nickname did to the butterflies in his stomach.

“Hey, Stevie!” he said back. “What can I do you for?”

“That article Nancy did is making some serious headway,” Steve explained. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet me for lunch to go over the details.”

Eddie laughed. “I was about to text you, darlin’. I have an idea for the rogue I wanted to float by you. So where to, my liege?”

“Monte Cruz, the Mexican place on 7th?” Steve asked.

It was a bit pricey, but it had the best fajitas Eddie had ever had. “Sure thing. 1pm okay?”

“Let me check,” Steve replied.

Eddie could hear him call Robin and while he couldn’t hear her response, Steve’s warm ‘thank you’ meant he was free.

“That’s perfect,” Steve said. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah.”

They hung up and Eddie laid on the floor staring up at the ceiling, holding his phone over his chest.

Fuck!

He got up and dashed to the bathroom to shower. He felt like he was covered in slime.

*

Steve was waiting for him on the terrace, a nice cool breeze rustling his hair. And Eddie couldn’t help but fall a little bit more.

Eddie waved and was far too pleased to get Steve’s little finger wave in return.

He sat down and grinned at Steve. “How is it cooler outside then in my loft?”

“Heat rises?” Steve suggested. cocking his head to the side.

Eddie laughed. “Well it’s the only thing that rising at this point. It’s so fucking hot.”

“I thought you’re loft had air conditioning,” Steve said with a frown.

“Apparently we worked it to extinction,” Eddie said mournfully.

Steve pulled out his phone. “Are you renting or paying a mortgage? I don’t remember what all we’re paying for.”

“Sadly, we own it,” Eddie said with a heavy sigh. “Otherwise I would have harassed a landlord to get it fixed.”

Steve hummed. “All right, I’ve messaged Robin. She’ll call around and get a technician come over tomorrow. It’ll go on my card if can be fixed or if it needs to be replaced.”

Eddie leaned back in his chair. “You don’t have to do that, man.”

Steve smiled at him. “Will the excess heat hurt your paintings?”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he threw his arms in the air. “Yes! Of course it will.”

“Then it’s a business expense and I’ll cover it.”

“I hate you,” Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You really, really don’t,” Steve murmured. “Now show me your idea for Will’s rogue.”

Eddie pulled out his drawing pad and flipped to the right page. He slid it over to Steve for him to see.

“Oh Eds,” Steve breathed. “It’s beautiful. He’ll love it.”

Eddie tried not to preen, but he couldn’t help it. “So I can go ahead and start painting?”

“Absolutely,” he replied. “Though maybe wait until after your cooler is fixed.”

Eddie threw his head back laughed. “I think you’re probably right.” He gently took the pad from Steve’s grip. “So what’s going on with the charity?”

Steve lit up. He started explaining about all the people interested opening would basically be franchises but that Eddie would still have full control of each branch.

“This is amazing, Stevie,” Eddie breathed. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I’m happy to help,” Steve said with a grin. “It means that I get drive Dustin absolutely nuts with this whole charity thing. He’s been begging me forever to meet you.”

“I mean, you can invite him to one of our reeducation of Steve Harrington movie nights,” Eddie said, shoving his hair in his face bashfully. “If you wanted to.”

Steve smiled fondly. “That’s sweet of you. But I was thinking something that would absolutely flip their collective shit even more than a movie night. A Halloween one-shot.”

Eddie’s lips formed an O. His eyes sparkled and he grinned. “I know just the thing. It’s something my friends and I used to do in high school. You have these little half–not even half character sheets that have just the most basic of stats. The point is to die in the most epic way possible. There are rewards for stupidest death, most epic death, TPK. It’s lots of fun.”

“That sounds amazing!” Steve said. “Would you be willing to do it?”

Eddie leaned forward on the table. “On one condition.”

“Oh?”

“You join us,” he said with a grin. “You read the stats, you roll the dice, you die like a bitch, just like everyone else. You’d be on equal footing with the rest of the Party.”

“Can I think about it?” Steve asked shyly, ducking his head.

“Sure thing, big boy,” Eddie replied. “But let’s order lunch. I’m starving!”

Steve laughed. “Of course.”

*

Robin poked her head into his office and held up a leather folio. “Do you want to tell me what the hell this is?”

“Sorry,” Steve said, “I’m not Spider-man. I don’t have x-ray vision.”

“That’s Superman,” Robin replied with a huff, “and you’re dodging the question. You know full well what I’m talking about.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I really, really don’t. I haven’t done any even remotely outrageous in months.”

She walked up to his desk and slammed the folio on the desk. “Steven Kevin Harrington...”

“Not my middle name,” he sneered. “You know what it is. You have seen my birth certificate way more times than I have.”

Robin laughed. “But it’s so lame, so I make up ones that sound better.”

“Whatever, Robs,” he said with a huff of his own. “What has got you so twisted this time?”

She opened the folio and turned it around to face him. “You booked the Newfield for New Year’s eve.”

Steve smiled widely at her. “I told you I was going to. It’s hardly my fault you were making goo-goo eyes at Eddie’s agent at the time.”

Robin gasped. “I was not!” He raised a single eyebrow and she folded. “Yeah, all right, maybe.”

Steve sat up in his chair and scooted closer to her. “Look, before you start throwing accusations around about feelings and thinking with my dick, it’s for the charity. You know, the one we’re working on right now.”

Robin glared at him. “So it has nothing to do with him making goo-goo eyes at you?”

“He’s not!” he protested. “There’s no way. He can have anyone he wants, he’s not going to go for a stuffed shirt like me.”

Robin raised both her eyebrows. “You can’t actually believe that.”

“You saw his most recent video right?” Steve snapped. “The one where he ranted about how greedy businessmen destroying the environment?”

“Uh...” she said, “you mean the one where he especially called out billionaire businessmen and how smaller companies can change the face of the industry and then went on to list ten things that CEOs can do to change the world and all of them were things you did with Starcourt Ltd. That one?”

Steve blushed. “I guess I didn’t realize.”

“Look,” Robin said sitting down in one of the chairs, “I was wrong about a lot of things when you first hired Eddie for this job. About him, about you and your motives. So I get why you can’t take my advice on this, but he likes you. And more than just a friend.”

He ducked his head as the blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears down the column of the throat. “Don’t go there, please.”

Robin held her hands up in surrender. “I won’t if you don’t want me to. All I’m saying is that if you think you’re falling for him, too…just know he probably feels the same.”

Steve licked his lips. “Yeah, okay.” Then he suddenly buried his head in his hands. “Fuck, I have to make a phone call.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He lifted his head and sighed heavily. “Looks like I’m going to be playing D&D after all.”

She laughed and laughed as Steve buried his head again.

The kids were never going to let him live this down.

*

“You’re sending my off for my last year as undergrad,” Dustin whined, “and you’re making me come back for fall break? Why?”

Steve was getting tired of this question. The only people who knew about Eddie DMing for them was Steve, Robin, and Eddie. And probably Chrissy. Oh and Claudia Henderson, Dustin’s mom. Which meant that all the other moms knew too.

All right, the conspiracy was bigger than Steve thought.

“Because it is your last year,” he said with a sigh. “You’ll be heading off to MIT next year and it’ll be harder for you to come home for the holidays.”

Dustin deflated. “Yeah, okay. So everyone will be home for Halloween?”

Steve brightened up. “Yep! I’m throwing a costume party with pizza and if you guys aren’t shitheads about it, I might even front for a wet bar.”

Dustin frowned. “What the fuck is a wet bar?”

Robin who had just come home, smacked him on the back of his head, knocking off his hat. “It means there will be booze, doofus.”

Dustin who had been about to yell at her for knocking off his hat, turned to Steve instead. “Seriously?”

“Yup! I’ve okay’ed it with all the parental units,” he said, “and I keep an eye on your intake to make sure you don’t get sick, they’re fine with it.”

Dustin launched himself at him and hugged him tight. “You’re the best, Steve!”

“There won’t be beer,” Steve warned. “It’s not the best drink to get started drinking on and bottles tend to hide how much you’ve been drinking.”

“Are they going to be spooky themed drinks?” Dustin asked.

Steve laughed. “Hell yeah, they are.” He ruffled Dustin’s hair. “Now go finish packing. I’m not going to let your mom do it for you this year. You’re an adult. Act like it.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “God, you’re more mom like then my actual mom.”

Steve laughed. “If I got insulted every time one of you called me mom, I would’ve died of a heart attack years ago.”

Dustin hit him on the arm. “No talks of dying. You aren’t allowed. You have to live forever.”

Robin laughed. “Sure, just got to find that elixir of life somewhere.”

“Or the fountain of youth,” Dustin helpfully supplied.

“You could always invent something,” Steve suggested.

Dustin’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea!” He dashed off excitedly.

“Pack first!”

Robin laughed.

***

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

[gejo333]

An Unexpected Match VI

DILF/DBF Miguel O’Hara x Female Reader

Pt. 1 Pt. 7

Summary: You’ve been living with the O’Hara’s for a month and it’s been the perfect life. But your nerves of your secret relationship begin to worsen when it was Miguel’s turn to host the barbecue which would be the last one before it became too cold, meaning everyone would be there, causing drama to stir…

Hey guys, sorry for another late update. I’ve just had so much writing assignments that it’s caused some writers block. Sadly no smut in this chapter, I had writers block with that and I really wanted to get a chapter to you guys, cause I feel so bad for not updating as much, cause I know what it feels like to be on the reader’s side.

Haven’t looked this over yet so I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

Wc: 4.1k

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A long sigh escapes from you as you exit the lecture hall of your last class of the day, as you couldn't  wait to enjoy a nice three day weekend. You almost lost your balance as Stephanie side tackled you with a hug. 

"Hey! What you doing for the rest of the day?"

"Miguel's going to pick me up for work in a few minutes and we're driving to Gabi's soccer match. Then nothing else." You walk across the street and stop at the pickup spot.

"Cute. You know I totally support and love that you moved in with Miguel almost a month ago. But we haven't gone out clubbing since. I miss dancing with my bestie." Stephanie pouts which makes you roll your eyes and chuckle. You look ahead and see a familiar black Aston Martin drive up which puts a giddy smile on your face.

"Damn girl. You've got it bad." Stephanie chuckled as she lightly elbowed you in the shoulder. The car pulled up right in front of the both of you.

"See you tomorrow Steph." You open the car door.

"For barbecue or clubbing?"

"Both." You say before saying goodbye and getting into the car.

"Hola, mi amor. How was your day?" Miguel smiled as he leaned over and gently took your chin, placing a sweet kiss to your lips.

"Hi Miggy. It was good. Glad the weeks over. How was work?" You happily return the kiss not before hearing a light tap on your car window as you see Stephanie smirking at you and mouthing the word, "love birds," before waving goodbye.

You chuckled from your best friends lack of maturity as Miguel drives off, headings towards the soccer fields.

"It wasn't bad. A bit stressful. Guess I shouldn't complain about it too much since you want to work there. The thought of that sounds like a dream come true." Miguel smirked as he squeezed your thigh that his hand was resting on.

"Get your dirty mind out of the gutter O'Hara." You lightly pinch his face from his comment, knowing exactly the thoughts circling his mind at the moment.

"No promises, hermosa." Miguel chuckled as his hand slipped higher up your thigh. Wearing a skirt today you knew his hand was only going to go further up your leg. Knowing it wasn't the right time you intertwined your hand in his.

After driving in a comfortable silence, saying something every once in a while about each others day, the car pulled into the soccer field parking lot. Miguel found a spot and turned off the car as he checked the time.

"Perfect. Got here a few minutes before it starts."

Before you got out of the car you noticed certain parents from the neighborhood sitting at the bleachers.

"Amor?" Miguel looked at you in concern from your sudden hesitation. His gaze followed the direction of your gaze finding the answer to your hesitation from exiting the car.

"I know the truth has to come out sooner than later. I just don't want to deal with the backlash. I don't care if my parents or the neighborhood might not approve. But I love you and Gabi. It's been so peaceful lately. I just don't want to disrupt it. I don't want this perfect bubble to pop." You look at Miguel as you still hold his hand. He smiles at you lovingly as he gently caresses you face before lifting your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles.

"I understand. I don't want it to end either. But we both know no matter the reaction we'll both feel better to be public about our relationship. Plus it's better to do it sooner than later. Your parents will be less upset. Hopefully." Miguel sighed as he got out of the car you following right after as you both walk over to the bleachers.

You both find a seat right as the whistle from the ref went off, initiating the the first half of the game. After a few minutes into the game Gabi noticed the two of you in the crowd as she happily waved before paying attention to the game.

As the game continued the entire time both you and Miguel were the biggest fans as you both loudly cheered for Gabi when she had the ball.

"Run Gabi run!! You got this!"

"Vamos Gabriella! ¡Eres mejor que todos los demás jugadores! ¡Esto es fácil para ti!" (Let's go Gabriella! you are better than all the other players! This is easy for you!)

Both you and Miguel cheered louder as Gabi neared the goal and scored the final point in the game before ref blew the final whistle.

"Great job Gabi!" You cheered as you watch Gabi and her teammates jump and run around in excitement. After the team settled down you and Miguel along with other parents left the bleachers to join the kids. The coach had brought cupcakes for the team. When Gabi noticed you and Miguel walking over she ran over, face covered in chocolate frosting from the cupcake she devoured.

"Y/n! Papa! Did you see my goal?!"

"We did princesa. It was amazing. Now come here my little messy soccer player." Miguel kneeled down as he grabbed a small pack of tissues and used one to wipe her face.

"Thank you, Papa!" Gabi gave him a toothy grin, with one tooth missing. You smiled at the sight. She really was the cutest thing on earth.

"Are you ready to go home Gabi?" You extend your hand to her, which she happily took as she skipped while the three of you walked back to the car.

"Yeah! Can I get a Happy Meal?" Gabi looked up at you with her puppy eyes which made your heart melt.

"Only if Papa says it's ok." You smiled down at her to which she turns towards Miguel. Miguel scratches the back of his neck as he smiles back at his daughter.

"Since you scored such an awesome goal and you've been good with eating your vegetables this week, we can get you one."

"Yay!"

After arriving home, preparing for the barbecue tomorrow, and eating dinner it was time for everyone to go to bed.

You sat, in your pj shorts and tank top, on your shared bed in the master bedroom with your textbooks and notes sprawled out on the bed.

"It looks like my work desk in here." Miguel chuckled as he walked in and closed the door. He walked over to the walk in closest to grab a pair of sweats. He then walked back over to the bed as he picked you up and sat you on his lap after he sat on the bed.

"Sorry, I'll clean it up soon. I have a biochem midterm in two weeks and I'm a little nervous about it." You grab some of your notes as you rest your back against Miguel's chest.

"I don't mind, hermosa. I was in the same exact boat when I was in college." Miguel brushed your hair to one side as he gently placed his lips against your neck, leaving small kisses up and down your neck.

"Even though it's been two years since our time in Miami. You still look like you're in your twenties." You chuckle as you switch out your notes for another pile on the bed.

"Keep talking like that and you won't be studying for that chem exam." Miguel chuckled as he continued to place his lips against your neck and shoulder as one of his hands went under your shirt and began to caress your breasts making a small moan escape your lips.

"Miggy nooo....I have to study. Maybe tomorrow night." You lean into his touch as he continues to caress you.

"I thought you were going dancing tomorrow night, hmm?" Miguel's tone showed a hint of annoyance. Not for you going out but the thought of other men seeing you all dressed up and trying to win their luck with you made his blood boil. Hearing the hint of jealousy, you turn your body to face him, now straddling his lap. Most definitely not the smartest idea when it comes to your perverted boyfriend.

"Stephanie really misses going out dancing. And I haven't been spending enough time with her lately. So I definitely owe her this one." You brush some of his curls back before leaving a sweet kiss on his lips. "But I'll give this night to you."

"Well I'll make sure it's worth your while." Miguel smirked as he grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up from his lap and pushing you down on the bed as he hovered over you.

....

The sweet kiss pressed to your forehead happily woke you from your slumber as your eyes met the reddish-brown hues that makes your heart swoon.

"Buenos días, cariño. I made you coffee." Miguel smiled lovingly as he places a cup of coffee on your bedside table.

"Thank you Miggy. What time is it? You're already up and dressed." You sat up as you happily took the coffee as the scent of caffeine was beginning to wake you up.

"It's only 8:30. You slept through your normal alarm but I thought you needed the rest since I kept you up really late last night. I'll be downstairs beginning to prep the food. See you downstairs." Miguel left you with a sweet kiss before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

After taking another sip you decided to get out of bed. You winced from feeling sore. Damn, Miguel really was rough last night. Not that your complaining but it probably wasn't the best day to hide a slight limp. And ugh, you were suppose to go out tonight with Stephanie. You got dressed and ready before heading downstairs to the kitchen where you saw sweet Gabi eating her colorful cereal while Miguel began preparing food for the barbecue

"Good Morning my Baby Bug." You gently comb your fingers through Gabi's hair as she gives you a big hug which you happily return. Moving to the other side of the kitchen with Miguel you give him a side hug and a kiss on the cheek before you begin helping with food preparations.

"Thank you for the help Amor." Miguel returned the kiss to your cheek as he continued to chop up vegetables.

The sound of the doorbell rang followed by a  deep voice yelling out for Miguel. If you didn't physically see Miguel standing right next to you, you almost would have thought it was him at the door.

"Dios mío ¿por qué está aquí a esta hora?"

(My god, why is he here at this hour?) Miguel groaned in frustration as he stopped his task, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Tío Gabi! Papa! Tío Gabi is here!" Gabi jumped in her seat excited before getting down and running to the front door.

"Gabi, no running." Miguel said but his words fell deaf to his daughter's ears as she went to open the door.

"Your brother?" you can't help but smile from your boyfriend's frustration which also annoyed him. He playfully sent you a glare before giving you a sweet kiss to the lips, as a loving warning to not go along with the antics.

You heard Gabi talking away in excitement about her past week to her uncle as they made it in to the kitchen. Following after a happy five year old was a tall man (not as tall as Miguel.) with the iconic O'Hara hair, eyes, and smile.

"So this is the famous Y/n, I've heard so much about. Mig is always talking about you. It's nice to put name to face." Gabriel gave you a hug before trying to give one to his brother which, Miguel only gave him a half-assed one in return.

"It's nice to meet you too Gabriel." You lightly glared at Miguel to give a proper hug to which he rolled his eyes and then gave his younger brother a hug.

"You can call me Gabe, you're family! Wish my brother would pop the question though and make it official." Gabe said happily as he took an apple from the bowl on the island. His comment made you blush, you understand now where Gabi gets her bright personality from.

"It's not even 9am yet. Why are you here so early?" Miguel said as he went back to prepping food, which you continued to help with. In between the two of you came Gabe as he quickly stole an empanada before Miguel could react. However, when he tried to steal another one Miguel snatched his wrist and sent him a glare to which he held his hand up in surrender.

"Can I have one?" You dramatically fluttered your eyes at Miguel to which he happily offered you one. "Thank you, honey." You kissed his cheek before taking a bite out of it.

"Hey, why the warmth for her and not me too?" Gabe whined. His smile returned when you snuck him another empanada. As he happily ate it. "Never mind. Mig she's a keeper."

Miguel looked back at the tray and to Gabe eating what seemed like a second empanada before lightly glaring out you. "Cariño, I thought you were on my side." He pouted to which you caressed his cheek.

"I'm always on your side Miguel. But he gave me the puppy eyes. I couldn't resist not giving him another one."

Gabi walked up and tugged on Miguel's pants to get his attention. "Papa can I have one?"

"Of course princesa. Here." Miguel gave her one and within seconds she handed it to her uncle.

"I can't trust anyone in this household anymore." Miguel huffed as he put tin foil over the food and put it on a shelf only he could reach.

"Aw, we all still love you. Right Gabi?" You wrap your arms around Miguel's waist. Gabi ran back and hugged both your and Miguel's legs before Miguel picked her up in one arm as you both give him a hug, placing a huge smile on his face. His happy family.

"The reason why I came early was to meet Y/n before you two have to pretend you aren't together at the barbecue." Gabe said as he finished is third empanada.

"What does Tío mean papa?" Asked Gabi, confused by his words.

"Do you remember when Papa and I told you to keep a secret about our relationship until we told you it was time?"

"Yeah. I don't like it."

"I know you don't like it princesa. We don't either. But we have to keep the secret at the barbecue too." Said Miguel as he continued to hold her in his arms.

"But why can't we tell people?"

"Well, some people might not be happy about your papa and I being together. And it's been such a happy and peaceful bubble that it's scary to pop that." Your heart started to crack from seeing Gabi's lips pout. You brushed some of her brown curls behind her ear. "Oh sweetie, it breaks my heart to see you sad. But I promise it won't be a secret for long."

Your words made her smile appear again as she lifted her tiny hand and tossed her pinky. "Pinky promise?"

You smiled as you hooked your pinky around hers. "Pinky promise."

After getting the rest of the food prepared and the backyard all set up, with the help of Gabe and a little bit from Gabi it was time from people to arrive for the barbecue. While setting up you and Miguel made sure nothing of yours in the main space was hidden away, you've done it a few times every time your father came over to hangout with Miguel.

As people from the neighborhood began to flood in, the background was filled with local gossip and music. It was hard not to gravitate to Miguel, but luckily you had many neighbors who were eager to catch up with you, most likely trying to hear the gossip about your argument with your parents.

"Hey! This barbecue is great! So many people are here. Best one this season." Stephanie hugged you when she spotted you.

"Hey! Probably because majority of the people here are the single mothers or wives who are flirts trying to get Miguel's attention." You rolled your eyes as your crossed your arms.

"Ooo someone's jealous. But no need to worry, cause that man is heads over heels in love with you." Whispered Stephanie which made your smile widen as you took a quick glance to see where Miguel was, talking to a random dad from Gabi's class. As if noticing your gaze he looked back at you, eyes and smile soften.

"Aww your so in love too. I've never seen you like this. It's so cute." Stephanie gave you another hug in excitement. You then heard a familiar female voice. As you turned in that direction you noticed your parents, walking straight in your direction.

"Hi sweetie." Said your mom. She stood by your father, but you knew she wanted to give you a hug.

"Hi."

"Honey, we've missed you so much these past few months. We feel so guilty for how we needed things. We... I mean I should have been supportive instead of taking Tyler's side and trying to keep you together. I just thought your were so happy together, but I realized I was wrong." Your mother said as she tried not to tear up.

"Its been a few months so I'm over it now. But I'm glad that you realized your mistake. And I'm admit I missed you both too." You hugged both your parents which made them both happy.

"We know you are living with Stephanie these passed few months. We can talk about you moving back later." Said your mom.

"Actually, Stephanie and I decided that we are going to be roommates. She has extra room so." You said, though you were living currently in the house your were in right now you weren't technically lying. You had lived with Stephanie.

"Oh, ok. Well, your mother and I hope to see you for dinner tomorrow?" Said your father. Though you wanted to, you and Miguel made plans with Gabi to go to the beach and spend the night up there since it was a three day weekend.

"I already have plans for the rest of the weekend but how about this coming Thursday for dinner?"

You suggested, which put a smile to your parents' faces.

"That works for us. Now where are those famous empanadas." Your dad said as he made his way to where Miguel was at the barbecue.

As you caught up with your mom and Stephanie, Gabi ran up to you.

"Hi Gabi, is everything alright?"

"Yeah! My friends and I  are playing tag, but my ponytail fell out. Can you braid my hair?" Asked Gabi as she helped up her green pony tail with a plastic flower on it.

"Of course I can. Do you want one or two braids?" You smile happily as you take the hair tie.

"Can I have two please?" Gabi held Theo fingers up as she answered you.

"Perfect. Without running can you go grab another ponytail for me?"

"Yep!" Gabi smiled up at you before speed walking inside the house followed by two of her friends.

"Your going to be a great mom, when the time comes. You're so good with Gabi. She loves you." Said your mom as she watched Gabi go inside the house.

"Yeah. When the time comes." You smile softly as you also watch her go inside. Little did your mom know that you unofficially adopted Gabi. You couldn't bare to have her or Miguel not in your life. It would break your heart.

Two minutes later Gabi came back outside and walked back to you, handing you the same style hair tie but in pink.

"Thank you." You began to braid her hair while talking with Gabi, Stephanie and your mom. After a few minutes you finished the braids. "All done." You smile as Gabi gently lift her braids, looking at them before smiling up at you.

"Thank you! It's perfect!" Gabi gave you a big hug which you happily returned.

"Of course." Your attention was turned towards someone calling out your name, loudly. Your eyes widen when you saw that voice came from Tyler, who was angrily walking towards you. "Gabi please go to your father." Out of instinct you gently move her behind you, to protect her from the angry man walking your way. As if she understood your words she quietly nodded before making her way to her dad.

"What are you doing here Tyler?"

"You're a fucking liar, bitch!" Tyler pointed a finger in your face as he yelled at you, spit flying everywhere his face red.

"Watch your language Tyler. There's children here." You argue back. "And can we please do this not in the middle of a neighborhood backyard?"

"Fuck no! You are a fucking whore and a cheating cunt!" Your eyes widen from his crude words.

"What's going on over here?" Miguel said as he walked over to your side.

"You! You're the asshole whose this slut is fucking!" Accused Tyler which made your eyes widen and a few people in the crowd gasp.

"For the last time Tyler, I'm his daughter's babysitter. He's a full time single father. He needs the help. Coming here and calling me names and false accusations is really low. You cheated on my Tyler. We're done. Let it go."

"You fucking liar." Tyler was about to hit you when Miguel stepped in front of you as he grabbed Tyler and went to throw him out of the house.

"The audacity of that man."

"He must have been drunk."

"How dare he make such accusations."

Whispers from the crowd echoed through the backyard until Miguel walked back in the backyard. "Sorry about that everyone. Go back to enjoying the food and drinks." After his words everyone listened, as the music came back on quieting the gossipy neighbors.

Your eyes widen you noticed Miguel's lip was split. Both your gazed made contact as you direct him to meet you inside in a few minutes. You leave to go inside, upstairs to the master bathroom as you get the first aid kit.

A few minutes later, Miguel walked in as he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you against him as he leans down to kiss your neck. A hiss came from him, obviously from his split lip. You turn around, still in his arms.

"I've been dying to hold you all day, amor. It's so hard not to be near you."

"I know. It's been hard for me too. But I need to fix that up. I can’t believe that asshole hit you. If I ever see him again, I will-“ You were interrupted by another sweet kiss to your lips. You pulled away as you lightly hit his chest. “Miguel…”

“I know I know. But I just can’t keep my self off of you.” He was about to kiss you again but instead you put your hand in-front of his lips before gesturing for him to sit on the bed. As he sat on the bed he grabbed you by surprise and had you straddle his lap.

“Miguel…”

“What? It will help you fix me up.” Miguel smirked as he kept you in a strong hold as you took some ointment and gently spread it on his lower lip before it dissolved. You kissed the top of his nose. “There all done. But I don’t think you should use those lips for a day, maybe two.”

“Amor, that’s torture. I’ll wait till everyone leaves. But not before I do this.”

Miguel was about to kiss you again but you easily blocked him with your finger, earning a frown from him. You then got off his lap.

“I’ll see you downstairs.” You wink at him before making your way down.

After sometime the barbecue began to die down and practically everyone was gone except for your older brother and Stephanie who helped clean up.

“You know what y/n. I’m going to have to reschedule our clubbing night, I’m exhausted from this evening. But I’ll snatch you away next Saturday.” Said Stephanie as she hugged you goodbye before walking out. Your older brother came up to you and gave you a hug which he rarely does.

“I think you two are great together. I’ll be there for you when you tell mom and dad.” He whispered with a smile before leaving and closing the door. Miguel walked up to you as he warped his arms around you in a loving embrace.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I think I’m getting closer to telling my parents about us.”

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Tag List

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[howlingday]

jaune is spiderman au) in which jaune is everyone's favorite webslinger, going by the name Huntsman (after the huntsman spider) downside he lacks the tech other spidermen have, upside he's already got tons of superstength and durability before he unlocks his aura! however his story is a little different than most spidermen, since everyone around him is a bad ass his grandpa (who's this story's uncle ben) doesn't die. instead when a white fang operative tries to rob him grandpa arc draws a revolver shoots his enemy dead and holsters without breaking stride. people at the scene describe him saying to himself "it's a hell of a thing killing a man" while walking away. take us through the life of a spiderman that the universe doesn't hate

A universe that DOESN'T hate Spider-Man? Oof... Tall order there, friend. But, sure, I'll see what I can do. Before we begin, might I regale you with my research? If not, skip to the read more. When I was playing Shattered Dimension for the PlayStation, there was a bumper in the loading screen explaining that there was a Parker of York Spider-Man who was a knight cursed with the blessings of a spider. I thought to look into this for inspiration, but I came up with bupkis on that. Instead, I found three different inspirations that used the name of Spider Knight. The first is Spyder-Knight from Disney's Ultimate Spider-Man. Not really anything too interesting. Just a knight in Spider-Man armor. Then there's the Prince of Arachne, who was a Peter Parker who worked for the noble Osborn family. He left after Princess Gwendolyn died in his place when Norman Osborn tried to kill him with a chandelier. Peter became knight and served as the Prince of the kingdom, sadly leaving a heartbroken Mary Jane to weep for his return. Then there's the SpiderKnight, who is a fusion of Spider-Man and Moon Knight, which is Peter Parker with D.I.D., including him, the witty voice of The Spider, the serious voice of The Knight, the confident voice of The CEO, and the techy voice of The Science. And then there's SpideyMoon, which... is a thing, apparently? A CANON THING, TOO! Like, apparently, they dated, but it's never brought up again after one mention in one panel? Actually, now that I think about it, I think that was just a joke Spider-Man made. But, yeah, that's what I found. Anyway, here's your Huntsman Spider AU~!

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Chapter 1 - Somethin' Sensational~!

There is an old saying, often told to those who begin questioning their lot in life...

"There are those who are born great. There are those who achieve greatness. And there are those who have greatness thrust upon them."

For one such young man, named Jaune Arc, he wasn't quite sure where he fit into these categories. One could argue he was born great as his ancestors were all heroes and imbued upon him the genetics of a great warrior. However, it could also be argued that greatness was thrust upon him when he awoke one morning with unusual abilities that allowed him to sense danger and climb up walls.

The third category, however, Jaune was certain he wouldn't fit into. His chances of "achieving greatness" were slim to none. Even if he'd somehow managed to stumble his way into Beacon Academy, a school for Huntsmen and Huntresses from all over Remnant, he still a poor fit as both a leader and a hero.

That said, he still did what he could to help out anyone he could. Like his grandfather taught him. "If you can do it, then just do it." His work schedule as a midnight superhero was a bit of a mess, but it's not like he could just stand by and do nothing. Especially not when his world was tearing itself apart.

"I'm screwed..." Jaune groaned into his textbook.

"Is that so?" Ren, his roommate, asked as he read from his own book.

"Doctor Oobleck is going to eat me alive tomorrow. I've been so busy dealing with the Torchwick gang that I wasn't paying attention to anything he's said this past week."

"You could always ask for a remedial class." Ren turned the page.

"And when would I have time for that? When you've already graduated while I'm still trying to figure out what color underwear Gura Belladonna wore when the White Fang disbanded?"

"Ghira Belladonna." Ren corrected. "And you don't have to worry about the underwear color. Just the cloak color. Which was..."

"Red?"

"No."

"White?"

"No."

"Green?"

"No."

"I'm screwed, aren't I?"

"Yes."

As Jaune slammed his face into his book again, he scroll suddenly buzzed. It was an emergency alert from the school...

"All students are required to remain away from Vale downtown due to a robbery in progress."

"Ren?" Jaune shut his textbook and ran to the closet. He snagged his backpack, complete with his superhero suit, and ran for the window.

"I'll tell any girls asking about you that you just missed them." Not looking up from his own studying. Jaune's leaving had become something of a routine at this point.

"Yeah, right." Jaune opened the window. "Like any girl would ever ask about me." Leaping out, he ran up the wall to the roof. Easier to change from there.

"3... 2..." A knock came from the door. Ren stood and opened it, finding his best friend and her roommate standing with their own textbooks. "Hello, girls."

"Hi, Ren~!" Nora cheerfully greeted.

"Hello, Ren," Pyrrha also greeted, albeit more demurely, "is Jaune here?"

"You just missed him." Ren said with a smirk.

--------------------------------------------------

"There's trouble downtown."

"Mhm."

"Do you think it's the White Fang?"

"Could be."

"This used to be such a nice city."

"Mhm."

"If only the police would do their jobs."

"..."

--------------------------------------------------

Jaune made his way from the school to downtown as fast as his legs could carry him. It was times like these, which happened every time there was a crime to be stopped, that he wished he'd brought his bike with him to Beacon. At the time, he didn't think he'd leave the academy very often, and even now he argued that it would only make it more obvious who this masked vigilante stepping in to stop crimes that huntsmen were either too busy, or too corrupt, to stop was.

Thankfully, he'd developed a routine by now and figured out the fastest way to downtown was by train. He didn't have a ticket, so he'd have to hitch a ride. Last time he tried to jump on it while the train was still in the station, the conductor's refused to move until he jumped off. For some reason, people didn't trust masked vigilantes when they said, "I'm trying to stop a crime from happening!"

Jaune was now downtown-bound with his eyes on The Gilded Crown, the biggest bank in Vale. Keeping low to the roof he quietly prayed that whoever was tough enough to make such an attempt was also nice enough to give up without a fight. Sadly, they were more the former and less the latter.

The train began to slow and Jaune leapt off the train and made a running start for the building closest to the station; the Vale CCTV News station where Lisa Lavender gave her unbiased view on him. And when Jaune says unbiased, he means that he doesn't like what she says but replies, "to be fair to her", to each of her arguments. After all, The Huntsman Spider is, was, and, for the foreseeable future, will always be a vigilante, not a huntsman or a police officer who work by codes, regulations, rules, laws, and everything else that stops a person from doing the right thing.

An extensive and drawn-out hop, skip, and a jump later, Jaune was watching the scene play out. Police, huntsmen, and huntresses were engaged in a firefight with bank robbers wearing black fedoras, black suits, red ties and red glasses. The Torchwick Gang. Jaune was weighing his options when he spotted someone breaking into the side of the building, through a top floor window.

"Hm," Jaune hummed, "either this vigilante thing is catching on, or there's something else going on here." Looking down to the brave boys and girls in blue and green, he decided they had enough on their plate without him 'getting in their way', as they like to say. "Think it's time I give them a break."

--------------------------------------------------

"So, Ren~?" Nora leaned in, cooing with a sweetness in her voice. "Any idea when Jaune will be back~?"

"I don't think he'll be back until late." Ren answered, not looking up from his textbook.

"Seriously?" Nora gave a long sigh and fell back onto his bed. "Isn't he failing history?"

"He's been studying. I'm sure he'll be fine on tomorrow's exam."

"Well, that may be so," Nora jumped from her back to her knees, "but there's a lot more important things to worry about than studying!" She glanced over to Pyrrha. "Like maybe getting closer to your friends~?" She waggled her brows.

"Nora..." Pyrrha gave a small pout. It was true she held an affection for Jaune, but it wasn't something she needed to focus on. She was attending Beacon to become a huntress, not to find a boyfriend. Getting a date for the weekend wasn't important right now, even if it's something she really wanted.

"Jaune and I are plenty close, Nora." Ren replied, not looking up from his book.

The two girls shared a look.

--------------------------------------------------

The inside of the bank was dark. Torchwick's gang must have shut off the power to make this heist a little easier for them. Jaune looked down from the rafters above as the black-cloaked goons of Vale's most dangerous criminal continued to unload bullet after bullet against the "protectors of the innocent".

Jaune understood it was a hard job to be a police officer and a huntsman. That's what his grandpa used to do, after all. However, according to the man himself, things have gotten way to lax and hard in the wrong places. When he threatened to go to the council, couple of dirty cops pinned Jaune's grandpa with a crime he didn't commit. No charges were pressed, but he was stripped of his badge and had his good name muddied.

From what Jaune had seen, this wasn't the case for all of the police, but still too many to just blindly trust all of them with everything. So he decided to let things play out down below while chasing the shadowy figure moving ahead of him. He kept his distance, following the obvious trail they left. Open doors and open windows practically screamed-

"This way!' Jaune looked down and watched as the goons started running deeper into the bank. Huntsmen and police wouldn't be too far behind. Jaune had to work fast.

Jaune's head throbbed, and his back slammed against the wall by a doorway on instinct. Bullets sprayed from the other side, meaning stealth was no longer an option. Holding up his arms, keeping his target in view, he charged forward as bullets ricocheted off his armor plating. When he got close enough, he ducked low and pushed himself forward into the figure.

That didn't work, though, and he what he jumped into fell away like solid smoke. His head throbbed and he rolled away as soon as he hit the ground, narrowly avoiding the swipe of a blade. As his rolling came to a stop, he watched the figure flee around a corner, beginning the chase again. He was about to indulge when he heard shouting from the other direction.

Following this noise, he found another large room, though this one wasn't riddled with bullets like before. Instead, there a group of hostages, all tied up and gagged, with the largest of them being yanked to his feet by Torchwick's thugs. Jaune could play cat and mouse with his lead, but not when there was somebody in trouble. Jumping down from the second floor, he landed on the balls of his feet and hopped forward. The gang members gave shouts as they aimed their weapons at him. He ran to the side, keeping clear of the hostages, and chased after the running gang members.

They dragged the large hostage down the corridor leading to the back exit. Jaune barreled through and knocked aside any criminal that got in his way. When they got up to try and chase down their assailant, they were captured by the pursuing huntsmen. Jaune made it to the back alley where the hostage was being shoved into a long car. Jaune made for a running jump and landed just as the car was peeling out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Jaune shouted as the car swerved around, trying to shake him off. For better or worse, Jaune wasn't flying off with his hands sticking to the roof of the car. His head throbbed and he rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a blade stabbing through the roof. His head throbbed again, instigating him to roll aside once more. By the time the third stab came, he rolled himself into position over the window. Giving a little hop, he smashed through the window, and everything started to slow down around Jaune.

The guy with the blade, shocked at the sudden intrusion, fumbled with his weapon before trying to stab Jaune with it. The thrust was avoided as Jaune slid into the vehicle with both hands now removed from the roof. Curling into himself, Jaune punched one goon while grabbing hold of the blade from the not sharp side. He then kicked the blade goon as Jaune tugged on the blade. One goon pulled his gun on Jaune, but the hostage jumped into him, giving Jaune the chance to avoid being shot and knocking the goon out.

"You okay?" Jaune asked, untying the hostage. "You usually hear about these kinds of things happening on trains."

"Aside from the glass in my suit," the man grumbled, scowling at Jaune as he removed the gag from his mouth, "I'll live." He took the gun and made his way to the front, where he tapped on the glass. The window opened and he shoved the gun through. "Pull over!"

"Whoa, whoa! Careful!" Jaune shouted. "No need to get violent!"

"Really?" The man asked sarcastically. "After kicking the hell out three asses, shoving a gun into a fourth is where you draw the line?" The car slowed to a stop.

"Wouldn't you?" Jaune asked, trying to ease the tension.

Without looking at his savior, the man replied. "You sound just like him." His arm twitched. "And you. Try anything funny and you'll wish you killed me back there."

Jaune, not sensing any danger, exited the limo with the large man. The man took the lead and brought Jaune into an alley where he could escape. Before he left, Jaune and the man had a talk.

"Look, kid, I get that your heart's in the right place," the man said, "but a lot of people got hurt today. If you want to help people, be a huntsman, or a cop. Don't make things worse by putting on a mask and being a hero."

"I have to, though." Jaune said. "If something bad happens and I could have stopped it, then it's no different than if I did the bad thing." Jaune's voice was a bit shaky, since this was a much larger man he was speaking to, but it was the honest truth.

"You really are just like Ghira." The man chuckled.

"You know Ghira Bellafauna?"

"Belladonna, and yeah. I used to work for him before..." Sirens wailing in the distance started getting louder. "You better go kid."

"Sure." Jaune jumped onto the wall and was about to climb up. "Oh, uh, one more question, if you don't mind..."

--------------------------------------------------

"Well done, Mr. Arc!" Doctor Oobleck called as he handed Jaune his test. "...is what I would say if your score were just a little higher. You may have passed the exam, but I expect much better from you in the future. Keep studying and you just might get an actual 'Well done'."

"Er, thanks, Doctor Oobleck." Jaune said, sheepishly taking the exam into his hands.

"Guess you were studying without us, huh, Jaune?" Nora remarked.

"Well, something like that." Jaune chuckled. "Ren and I have been really hitting the books this past week."

"Yeah, well, some things are a lot more important than studying, you know." Nora rolled her eyes.

"Nora..." Pyrrha grumbled.

As Jaune ignored Nora, he felt like someone was staring at him. He looked around, his eyes passing over the classroom until he caught someone looking right at him a few desks away. The girl looked away, keeping her eyes glued to her exam paper. He recognized her, but more as a friend of a friend than an actual friend. Blake, wasn't it?

[kiiwiigii]

The Red-Eyed Boy pt. iii

Pt. One | Two | Outtake

Alec x Swan!Fem!Reader

Summary: Alec returns and shows you how sorry he is. *wink, wink*

Warnings:

Smidge of angst

Smidge of bondage

Straight up smut

Word Count: 3,130

A/N: Today I learned that suck at writing smut, but please enjoy anyways. As with all my Alec fics, he is aged up. Also, I am fucking obsessed with this gif.

Tags: @rosedpetal, @lack-lust-3r, @badass-daisy-22

Alice and Bella eyed me warily from their spot on the kitchen table as I padded around the kitchen. It was my turn for dinner tonight and I was working on a new recipe.  

"Please stop looking at me like that. I'm not about to keel over dead and I'm definitely not about to poison Bella right before she gets married." 

I grinned when Bella scrunched up her nose in annoyance. 

"You're not gonna die because you're tied to Edward through a piece of paper, Bells." 

"Says you." She grumbled. 

"Have you heard from him?" Alice asked softly. 

"No." I pursed my lips. 

It had been nearly two weeks, and I hadn't heard a damn thing from Alec. I had called and texted only to be ignored and left on read. I knew he'd be mad, but for the love of God, he was taking this too far. I just wanted to strangle him. I had spent the first week moping before trying to shake myself out of it. I refused to let myself fall into the state that Bella had after Edward left. 

Although it was really hard not to. I still had my moments, usually in the evenings when I was alone. 

I paused in the middle of chopping an onion, looking over my shoulder at Alice. Her visions were the only thing I could really count on right now, unless I had a vision of my own. Unfortunately, sleep had been avoiding me, and when I did sleep nothing came to me. 

She shook her head sadly, indicating that she hadn't seen anything. Yet. However, she also hadn't seen anything different from her previous visions, so nothing had really changed, and that gave me hope. 

"So, Y/N, we have your first dress fitting tomorrow." Alice, thankfully, changed the subject.  

"Ooh yay! Do I get to see Bella's dress?" 

Bella groaned before plonking her head onto the table. She was so easy to tease. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't want to marry me." Edward entered the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket. 

I smiled watching them all together, happy to watch the little scene from afar. Eventually I had to turn back around, doing my best to hum a tune in my head, both to distract myself from the situation with Alec and so Edward wouldn't pick up on my depressing thoughts. This should be a happy time. 

Somehow, I don't think I was fooling anyone. 

It was official. I hated weddings and anything to do with them. I was almost positive that had I not been in a house full of vampires, Rosalie would have stuck a few pins in me on purpose.  

It was dark by the time I finally arrived home, and all I really wanted to do was shower and pass out on my bed. Keeping up a relatively happy façade almost 24/7 was exhausting. 

The house was dark, and I suddenly remembered that dad was out on one of his camping trips with a friend. Well, at least I would have the house to myself, and I could be as depressed as I wanted. 

I went straight to my room to gather some pajamas and a towel. I almost felt too tired to even shower, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to make sure I do some basic self-care. Throwing my bag onto the bed, I began to strip. 

"You should keep your window locked." 

I jumped and let out a scream, quickly covering myself, dress already hanging half off. 

It was Alec, propped up on my bed, another book in hand. How had I not seen him?? I even threw my bag in his direction. 

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I wheezed at him, trying my best to get my racing heart back under control. 

"Not particularly." His eyes roamed over me, from head to toe, his eyes lingering on my neck, where my pomegranate seed necklace hung. And then the dangling straps of my dress. "You look beautiful, tesoro." 

I blinked rapidly, trying my best to figure out what the hell was happening. I hadn't heard from Alec in nearly a month and here he was, just sitting here. In my room. On my bed. As if nothing had ever happened.  

"Where have you been? Why have you been ignoring me?"  

He simply eyed me before closing the book with a thump.  

"I was extremely… angry. There was a while where I did not really have control of myself. I even scared Jane." He admitted. "I didn't want to take it out on you. Or for you to see that side of me." 

I glared at him. 

"So, you just disappear without a word? Didn't bother telling me that you were okay and that you just needed space? You're aware that I've had visions of you since I was like, six years old, right? I've seen you angry." 

"Not like this, you haven't." He said quietly. 

"Do you know what I thought? I thought you had left me. Despite whatever Alice's visions tell her, I know that they can change at the drop of a hat. I was just sitting here waiting, praying that you wouldn't change your mind." 

Fuck, here come the tears. 

He was next to me in a heartbeat, hands cupping my face. I tried to back away, but he kept his grip firm. 

"I would never leave you, Y/N." He said softly, wiping the tears away. "Ever. I have never been good at relationships. I have always kept myself at arm's length, but you, you are different. And when I saw you on that field, after the battle, I had never been so scared and angry in my life." 

He paused for a minute, searching. "Had I lost you, I would have burned the world down." 

My breath hitched in surprise, and I could feel my heart skip a beat. He kissed me then, and I allowed it, wrapping my arms around his neck as he reached for my waist. His kiss was soft and controlled, while mine was bordering on desperation. 

"Don't you ever do that to me again." He whispered against my lips, a warning. 

Why did that turn me on and piss me off at the same time? 

"I'm sorry, what was that? Because it sure didn't sound like an apology, Alec." 

He pulled me flush against him, nipping at my collarbone in reproach. I hissed in pain, but he quickly soothed it over with his tongue. 

"Then let me show you how sorry I am." He whispered. 

He pulled me in for a heated kiss and I couldn't help but gasp. Alec took the opportunity to dip his tongue into my mouth again, and the moan that worked its way up my throat had him growling possessively. 

I could already feel my nipples tightening and the wet heat between my legs. 

I grabbed him by the collar to pull him closer. He gladly obliged and before long, he had me pressed into the bed, right underneath him, his lips giving slow languid kisses anywhere he could reach. 

"Alec." My voice was caught in my throat. 

Goddammit. He hadn't even gotten me out of my clothes before he had me begging. Hell, he had barely even touched me.  

And I was supposed to be mad at him, dammit! 

He paused, lips at the swell of my breast. Finally, he lifted himself up so he could look me in the eye, searching my face. 

"Do you trust me?" 

I nodded my head furiously. 

"I need to hear you say it, Y/N." 

"I trust you." 

I was practically panting. 

Alec produced a long strip of gauzy fabric and slowly tied my hands together, gauging my reaction, before putting them above my head. 

"Did you come prepared with that?" I gaped at him. 

"No. I took it from your bag." He smirked. 

My bag? Since when did he have the time to go through my bag? I looked at my tied wrists again, trying to wrack my brain as to why I had a long ass strip of- 

'Oh my god.' 

It was the sash to my bridesmaid's dress. I know I hadn't put it in there. The last time I had seen it- Alice. She fucking knew. She had to. She had a vision and didn't even tell me. Granted, if this was a part of her vision, I would be highly embarrassed to hear her explain exactly what she saw. 

"Now." Alec put my hands above my head again, and then trailed his own hands down my arms to my collarbone, thumbing over the mark he had placed on it earlier. "Your hands stay put above your head until I say otherwise. If they do not, I stop. No matter what I am in the middle of." He warned, pausing to make sure that I understood. "Are you okay with this? If not, we can stop." 

I shook my head back and forth frantically. 

"Y/N, I need you need to say it out loud." 

"Yes." I breathed. 

"Good. If you become uncomfortable at any point you are to tell me." 

"Yes sir." It was out of my mouth before I even realized it and I blushed furiously. 

"Are you sure you're a virgin?" He teased. 

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" I teased back, a little breathless. 

Alec's brows raised before he smirked, leaning in closer, mouth right next to my cheek. 

"I think I am going to enjoy this very much." His hands began to make their way past my collar bone to cup my breasts through the fabric of my dress, his thumbs flicking slowly back and forth over my nipples.  

My back arched in a gasp, and he let out a hum, pleased with my reaction. Soon I felt more and more skin being exposed to the cool night air, his cold lips and tongue following right behind it, licking and nipping his way until, aside from my bra, I was fully exposed from the waist up. I blushed as he sat back, admiring the view. 

"You are truly beautiful, mio cara." He breathed.  

His cold hands caressed every inch of exposed skin, purposely avoiding the spots that I wanted him to touch the most. I pouted up at him and he swiped a thumb across my lip. 

"I must admit Y/N, I like seeing you like this. And I think you like it too." 

Slowly, I gave his thumb a long lick before sucking it into mouth. His eyes darkened even further, and I could practically feel the rumble of possessiveness in his chest. 

"Careful, amore." His voice was now husky and strained. 

I released his thumb, edging my teeth along the sides and cocked an eyebrow at him. "I thought you were supposed to be apologizing." 

His eyes were now pitch black. 

"I think you forget who's in control here." 

I let out a squeak as he moved aside and ripped my dress the rest of the way down, leaving me in just my bra and panties. He settled himself between my legs, to nip and kiss his way along the inside of my thighs. 

I sucked in a sharp breath when he placed a kiss right over my covered mound, and then nuzzled into it. My hands jerked and he looked up at me, remaining still. 

"Hands, amore." He chided. 

I immediately put them back in place, wriggling my hips in anticipation. Finally, he slid my panties down, revealing my inner most self, glistening and wet just for him. 

"Perfect." 

It was the only thing I heard before his mouth was on me and my back arched off the bed yet again.  

Keeping perfect eye contact with me, he gave me long slow licks, delving into me with his tongue. And then he found my clit. I couldn't help it, I cried out, my hands immediately coming down to lace themselves through his hair. 

This wasn't an apology; this was fucking torture.  

He paused with a growl. 

"Hands, amore." 

"But- but-" 

He lifted himself up slightly, a warning look in his dark eyes. "Hands." 

"Alec." I whined, wriggling my hips again and trying push him back down. "Please." 

"You know the rules, principessa." 

"Did you just call me princess?" 

He just smirked. "You're learning. Now, hands. If I have to tell you again, I will tie you to the bed." 

'You just may have to do that.' I thought. 

He watched me for a moment more before slowly lowering himself back down, wrapping his arms around my thighs to keep my hips level. He began his slow assault on me yet again and I did my absolute best to keep my arms above my head. It was working so far... barely. 

Before long I could feel a warm heat beginning to build low in my stomach.  

"Oh god, please don't stop." I chanted. "Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." 

I wasn't entirely sure what was happening, all I knew what that it felt good, and he absolutely had to keep going. Otherwise, I was sure I was going to die right then and there. 

And then the bastard stopped. 

"Alec." I let out a low whine. 

He crawled back up to me, placing a kiss on my lips and I groaned at the taste of my arousal on him.  

"No cumming just yet, amore." He swept his tongue along my lips. "The only cumming you will be doing is on my cock." 

I almost choked. "Have- have you always been this dirty?" 

"You have no idea." He bit my earlobe and I squirmed at his words. “And this is only just the beginning.” 

"Well, it looks like won't be doing much of anything, since you're still dressed." 

"That can easily be remedied." 

My eyes widened as he slipped off his shirt. I had always known he was muscular but there was a big difference between feeling it and seeing it. Next came his pants and underwear, and I’m pretty sure my brain stopped working. 

How was that going to fit?? 

"Like what you see?” 

I simply nodded my head, my mind still trying to process the situation I was in... and the fact that his cock was rather... large. 

He leaned over and began untying my hands. I raised a brow at him. 

"I want you clinging to me when you cum." 

Oh fuck. 

My hands immediately went to explore his naked chest when he caught my hand and kissed my fingertips. 

"Are you still okay?"  

"Alec, I swear to God if you don't fuck me-" 

He cut me off, crushing his lips to mine and I suddenly felt him nudging at my entrance. He sat back briefly, rubbing himself in my juices, preparing. 

"Eyes on me, amore." 

I swiftly looked back up at him. I don't think I could have taken my eyes off him in that moment. 

Finally, finally, I felt him enter me ever so slowly. I let out a hiss of pain, my hands clutching desperately at the sheets, and he stopped, letting me adjust for a minute, all the while never breaking eye contact. This, this was something else. I had never felt so full.  

"Fuck, you're tight." 

I let out a whimper. 

"It's okay, mio cara." He kissed away the tears from my face, I hadn't even realized that I was crying. "I'm going to move now." 

And boy did he move. It took a few thrusts before the pain subsided and then I felt as if I was flying. He kept his thrusts steady and deep, his hands roaming my sides before cupping my breasts and placing gently kisses along the edges. And then proceeded to close his mouth on one of my nipples through the lace.  

"Alec." 

He didn't reply, deciding to suck harder and scrape against the sensitive buds with his teeth instead. If he kept this up, I wasn't going to last long, and I think he knew it. He sat up again, but this time he angled my hips up and I was suddenly seeing stars. He was hitting my sweet spot now and I couldn't contain my moans any longer. I could feel it building, and building, and building.  

"Don't you dare stop." I panted. 

"Eyes on me, darling." He ordered, grabbing my face, and making me look him in the eyes. "I want to see the look in your eyes when I make you come on my cock." 

Oh, God. He was speaking to me in Italian, and I didn't have the slightest clue as to what he was saying, but it was hot. 

"Alec, please. Make me cum. I want to come." 

"Fuck, so tight for me." He thrust harder and I could feel the walls of my pussy starting to tighten up. "I want to see you come undone around me." 

"A-Alec!" 

He forced me to look up at him again as I came hard, legs wrapping around his waist as he nearly collapsed on top of me. If I was seeing stars before, now I was suddenly seeing a whole fucking galaxy. 

"Fuck." He kissed me deeply as I felt him spasming inside me, cool liquid coating the walls of my pussy. 

He hovered like that for a long moment, his kisses turning into soft, languid ones, his hands roaming in even softer caresses. Finally, he pulled out of me, and let his eyes wonder over me. I'm sure I looked a mess, but he seemed to like what he saw, judging by the smirk on his face. 

"Come, amore. Let's get you cleaned up." 

"I don't think I can walk." I closed my eyes, doing my best to breathe and not die from great sex. 

"I can definitely help you there." 

I nearly yelped as he lifted me from the bed bridal style. 

"Is this your way of saying you want shower sex?" I wriggled my eyebrows at him. 

"I had not really thought of it, but if you insist." 

I laughed and snuggled into his chest. 

He paused a moment, really looking me over now. "I am truly sorry, Y/N. For everything." 

I placed a hand on his cheek. "Apology accepted." 

NEXT - (Outtake)

{Masterlist}

Translation (Done via Google): Tesoro: Darling/Treasure  Mio Cara: My darling.  Principessa: Princess 

Wanna be notified when I post a new story? Ask to join my taglist!

[mrskreideprinz]

| Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby |

Pairings: Dottore x Gn!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Selfship Coded, Reader has Medical Trauma, Reader has PTSD, Reader goes by no pronouns, Dottore goes by He/Him pronouns, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Reader is mentally ill, Mental Health themes, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Dottore is bad at comfort, Dottore might be ooc and for that I apologize, Mentioned Medical Tests/Medical Treatment, Implied Medical Abuse (it’s not explicitly said, but yeah), Flashbacks, 1.4k words. 

A/n: I wanted to write out a little something like this for a while with Dottore, and so here we are. I kinda left this one with a sorta open ending, because I might want to do a continuation of it at some point. So, yeah! I hope you like this <3

Also title name is from this song.

Summary: You’ve avoided going to Dottore’s lab for over a year now and Dottore is set on finding out why you have the aversion in the first place. 

Tagging: @auphelia @fleur-de-leap @tighnarly

It had been a long time coming. You always did hate going to Dottore’s lab, avoiding it at all costs, and for a whole year you were successful in that. He never asked much of you and you did the same with him, but after a while things started to crack and crumble. It was around the time that work had started to pile up for him. He was always busying himself in the lab and you were always hell bent on avoiding him there. You didn’t mind the work he did, even when he talked about it you were fairly calm, but something about entering the heart of it all always made you anxious. 

This time of year he was normally occupied in the lab. Usually he’d leave you be, not press you further on the matter, but something seemed particularly off about you this time around. Sure, you were always on edge and fidgety whenever he talked about his experiments or anything having to do with his time in the lab, but he always figured you were just especially squeamish about that sort of thing. Not everyone could stomach that topic, after all. Although after some time and a little bit of reflection he realized that wasn’t and couldn’t logically be the case, at least not to that extent. 

He’d approached you about it beforehand but you brushed him off, remarked how it was nothing important and he needn’t waste his time with something such as that. Sadly that only furthered his concern and suspicions. Realistically if it were any other person he wouldn’t have cared half as much as he did with you, but he truly was stuck on the subject, and he was sure he could fix that problem of yours somehow. 

It was early morning, around two in the morning when Dottore managed to slip back into your shared room. He’d barely acknowledged your presence until he’d heard you slowly sitting upright in the bed to look at him.

“Long night?” You asked gently, a smile curving the corners of your mouth.

“Mmnh.” He replied. 

You made a spot for him on the bed as you watched him with half-lidded eyes. He slowly dragged his feet over to his side of the bed and climbed in, laying back and putting his arms behind his head with a groan of relief. He closed his eyes to rest his eyes before the inevitable happened, but of course, you were quite the chatterbox anytime he returned to you. 

“So..”  You trailed off. “How was it?”

His eyes remained close but his brows furrowed. “It was fine.” He paused, debating whether he should ask now or until after he’d had some rest. Ultimately deciding to ask anyway. “And you?” 

You snuggled underneath the covers and let a hand rest on his chest slightly. “It was okay, nothin’ special.” 

There was a comfortable silence hanging in the air before Dottore promptly decided to destroy it.

“I’d like you to come by the lab tomorrow.” He said firmly, his voice confident enough that it worried you.

Your hands trembled.

“Why?” Your voice shook as you turned to look at Dottore.

He sighed. “You’ve yet to have an exam since your arrival here and it’s about that time anyway.” 

Your fear was palpable, nearly making his own heart race. He could feel the way your body locked up upon hearing his request, or rather his demand. For, there was no way he was going to allow you to back out of it this time. It wasn’t a total lie, you did need a proper exam, especially considering the behavior you’d been exhibiting since joining the Fatui. You’d been unusually skittish around the subject of his work, a fact that Dottore used to methodically put the pieces together. He knew before he even asked the question what your aversion to his lab truly meant. 

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “I’ll send two segments to escort you in the afternoon, that should give you more than enough time to prepare.”

Silence.

“I understand this is quite uncomfortable but–” You quickly cut him off, something you’d never done. 

“No, Dottore, you don’t understand and quite frankly I don’t think you ever will.” You spat back.

Silence. This time the tension was thick, the atmosphere filled with uneasiness. Granted if he’d know you’d get so heated about it he would’ve never brought it up moments before the two of you were supposed to sleep. Neither of you were going to bed anytime soon. Oh how he regretted his decision. Perhaps the segment was right, but he’d never admit to that. Not a chance in hell. Although in hindsight he wished he’d thought this through a bit more before running headfirst into whatever happened at that moment. Upon first instinct he wanted to prove you wrong, state how it was something he could in time learn to understand, but he stopped himself. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but something made him stop and think about his next words carefully. 

“Well, enlighten me.” He replied, sitting upright to look you in the eyes. 

Usually he’d grin as he’d said those words but this time it was absent, and instead he looked like someone who wanted to learn. It was odd and unnerving to see him like that, but I guess it was his way of trying to comfort you. 

“I just…” You averted your eyes and looked at your hands before returning your gaze back to Dottore. “I.. don’t like doctors. I don’t.. trust them.” You admitted. Now, too anxious to look at him at all. 

Oh. How awkward, Dottore thought. 

“Hmm, I see.” He replied.

Another agonizing moment of silence. 

You fidgeted with your fingers, cracking your knuckles nervously. Your breathing gradually grew rapid as the memories and thoughts poisoned your mind like a dangerous disease. Fuck, how you hated it when you got like this. You remembered the words they said, the actions they took, the insane amount of times you endured the same fucking test. You remembered… everything, and you hated that the most. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to will those thoughts and images away as tears rolled down your cheeks, but alas it was useless. 

Dottore placed a hand over your own, pausing for a second before rubbing circles against your skin with his thumb. It seemed to rip you from your turmoil momentarily, but it did not erase it. The sensation was comforting, more so than the other things he pushed himself to do in order to comfort you. Neither of you said anything, especially not Dottore. He didn’t want to risk saying something rude or offensive, or putting you in an even worse state, which was very likely. The silence consoled you in a way, rocking you into a peaceful sleepy state. So much so, that you let your guard down long enough to wipe away your tears and curl up in a ball beside Dottore. 

He was hesitant at first but ultimately chose to wrap a single arm around you. Dottore held you as if you were the most fragile of glass. It was as if he was terrified of shattering you and in a way he definitely was. Finally, you let your guard down long enough to hide, rest your head against Dottore’s chest and allow the tears to flow freely. Had it been anyone else he would’ve been incredibly uncomfortable, wouldn’t even consider doing what he did, but you were.. different. He wondered if he should say something, if a reassuring word would be beneficial in a moment like that, research would back that idea but he chose against it. Dottore couldn’t possibly risk ruining what little peace you could experience at that time. At the very least he owed you that small moment of relief, no matter how brief it was. 

He waited until you were fast asleep, curled up nice and close in his arms, then he brushed away a stray strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear. Dottore glanced up at the door then back to you, smiling at you adoringly before kissing your forehead. He’d have to talk more about this with you tomorrow, and thoroughly, too. Dottore had planned on getting you to the lab whether you wanted to or not, but for some reason he had a change of heart. Maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to give you a day or two more to prepare, that was more than feasible, he thought.