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alocon · 7 months

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Incredibly Irresistible [4] - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

written by alocon

Summary: Despite all hope, Lando never lost his feelings for his best friend's twin sister. However, he still hadn't acted on it. Well, that was until the party, which led you two into a long-term secret relationship

Warnings and Tropes: Fluff, part 4

[Part One Here] [Part Two Here] [Part Three Here] [Masterlist]

Irresistible - LN4 x Fem!Reader

After the night that Max found out, you realised that there wasn't really anyone else who you worried about finding out so you decided to be a lot less secret about it, especially in the family scene. Being invited to a family dinner was the perfect opportunity to tell people who you are dating, you decided. When you got the call from your mother, you asked.

“Oh wait I do have a question,” you had said when she asked if there was anything else you wanted to know. It was common knowledge that you could bring your partners to dinner, seeing as Max brought P often.

“Alright, sweetheart, what is it?” Your mother responded, curious as you never usually had any questions.

You looked at Lando who was sat on the bed with you, nervously playing with your hand. You had told him about your family dinners before, and he said that he would, of course, be interested in coming if the opportunity was there. “I've been in a relationship with someone for about a year and a half. Would I be able to bring him?”

“Absolutely, you can. A year and a half, darling, why didn't you say anything before?”

“You know what Max gets like, right? How he's very overprotective.” She hummed in agreement for you to continue. “Well, he'd get like that… but maybe a little worse than usual.”

Lando giggled, whispering under his breath “mhm, a little.”

You chuckled before hearing your mother excitedly say “is that Lando? Can I say hi to him?” You watched as Lando quickly leant over to take the phone from your hand as you passed it to him, beginning to talk to your mother.

“Yes, Mrs. Fewtrell. I'm great thank you, how are you?... I have met her boyfriend, he's very nice. Quite an attractive man too if I do say so myself.” You could only hear one side of the conversation but you rolled your eyes at the cockiness as he winked at you. “I'd like to think so, yes. From what I've seen, he really is in love with your daughter.” He grinned at you, blowing you a kiss. “Ah, I'm not sure if I'll be able to attend the dinner, I'll have to check, but I'm pretty sure I might be having dinner with my girlfriend's family that day. Yes ma'am. Well I'm sure you'll see me soon, don't worry. I miss you too. Goodbye.”

He passed the phone back to you, grinning ear to ear.

So that's how you ended up sat in your UK house, getting ready for family dinner with your boyfriend, who was definitely freaking out about making a good impression despite knowing that your entire family absolutely adored him.

“Yes but what if I mess up or they're disappointed that you're dating me or-” you cut him off with a kiss, getting slightly fed up with his waffling. He kissed back and you felt him relax slightly in your embrace.

Pulling away from the kiss, you placed your forehead to his. “Lan, try your best not to worry. You know they already like you.”

He nodded softly. “I know I know. I just don't want them to react how Max did.”

“Well, let's hope they don't. Ready to go?” He said yes, grabbing his phone and keys.

The drive was silent, Lando having been overthrowing quietly, which was evident by the way his index finger tapped against your knee as his hand ranted on your thigh whilst he drove. You placed your hand on top of his and he smiled gratefully as he finished parking.

Turning to you, he smiled softly, the nerves still very evident in his face. “I really hope this goes well.”

“Don't worry. They love you already.”

“Not as much as you do, I hope,” he said with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes as you both started walking up the driveway towards the door. “Who knows. Maybe that's why Max was so pissed.” You heard the oh so familiar giggle leave his lips as you knocked on the door.

It didn't take your mother long to open the door. “Hi sweetie, I've missed you!” She instantly hugged you and then pulled away, looking at Lando. “Lando? I thought you couldn't come. And Where's your boyfriend? Did you two split up?”

Lando spoke up before you could. “Actually, I remember saying that I was having dinner with my girlfriend's family…”

“Exactly. So why are you?” She paused mid sentence, looking between the two and gasping. “Oh my god. Wait. You two are together?” You nodded, Lando grabbing your hand nervously before a squeal could be heard and you were both pulled into a hug. “Come on in, you two.”

You walked into the house and to the dining room, seeing Lando look a lot calmer as people's eyes lit up once they saw him. Well, except Max. Max was avoiding your gaze for now. You greeted P with a hug and everyone except her and Max seemed a little surprised at the two of you being together. Your older brother, Sam, made a joke about not having to threaten your boyfriend, at least, because he had been around long enough to know the threats. That made Lando relax the most.

“So,” your dad said, looking between the two of you as you sat together on one side of the table together. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since July 2023.”

“A year and a half?” Your older brother said, looking at you. You nodded. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“Because I knew that if it got back to Max through someone who wasn't us, he wouldn't be happy. I mean he wasn't happy anyway but what can you do?”

“I would be happier if you weren't sleeping with my best friend.”

“I didn't complain that you started dating P.”

“Right, let's not. Max, remember what I said about being on your best behaviour, yes?” Max nodded in response to your mother as she turned her attention to another topic that wasn't Max's distaste. “Why did you decide to tell us now?”

“Max found out and we realised it was better to be honest. I'm sorry we didn't tell you guys. We hadn't even told my family until yesterday, to be honest. We had dinner with them and that's how they found out.”

“No problem. I think we're all just glad it finally happened. It took longer than me and your mother thought, that's for sure.”

You looked at your boyfriend, and then back to your parents. “What do you mean?”

“Oh please.” Your dad chuckled softly. “You two have been head over heels for one another since you were like 13. Especially Lando.”

Lando coughed slightly, looking away from your gaze which shot straight towards him. “13?”

“Yeah,” your mother was next to speak up. “It was like, you know how some girls have crushes on their best friend's older brothers? It was like that but Max's older sister instead.”

“She is barely older.” Max finally spoke up in the conversation.

“Still older. 3 hours is 3 hours.”

“Anyways. I'm pretty sure that boy fell in love with you the first time he met you. I remember overhearing him asking a bunch of questions about you when I walked past his door.”

You laughed. “I think I was the same about him, to be honest.”

Lando looked at you, seeing your eyes already on him. “Really?” You nodded, causing him to grin, almost slightly shyly as he squeezed your hand.

“I honestly never thought I'd see this day. Mum, Dad, Max, I believe you owe me £20.”

You looked at Sam, shock on your face. “You made a bet on us?”

“We did,” your dad responded. “Max's vote was never so I think he might be a little biassed.”

Your family ended up loving the fact that Lando and you were together, just as you had suspected. Once you both offered to wash up together, Lando had made a comment about you being right. You talked about how glad you were that Max didn't make any snarky comments about you two, as was expected when you first turned up. That didn't, by any means, mean that he had gotten over his anger, though. He actively avoided your gazes and was being a little petty, as always. You swore quietly at Lando as he flicked more water in your direction. You flicked some back. “Behave, you.”

He walked closer to you, playing his chin on your forehead, arms wrapping around you. “Where's the fun in that?”

You dried your hands, turning around to hug him back. You felt his hand playing with your hair. “I love you. I always will.”

You smiled into his chest at his words. Pulling away from the hug, you looked into his eyes. “I love you too. Always.” You leant up to press a kiss to his cheek before pushing a towel into his hand. “Get to drying, you're distracting me.”

“Yes ma'am. On it,” He responded, moving away and grabbing a plate to dry up.

From the doorway, your mum stepped away, leaning against the doorway for a moment whilst she watched you two act so domestically with one another - almost as if you had been together for years. Messing about, talking, actually getting stuff done, being sweet. She headed back to the living room, shutting the door as she sat down. The was quiet until your dad spoke up. “I'm happy they are together.”

“I'm not,” Max replied, rolling his eyes in frustration at them.

“Max. Why do you have such an issue with them?” Your dad asked, putting his drink back on the coffee table.

“Because he's my best friend and she's my sister. I know what he's like and he doesn't stay in relationships for longer than a year usually. Plus it's weird, he's meant to be my friend!” Max looked surprised that his mother and father seemed so happy with it.

“They've been in love for years, Max. Anyone can see it. Don't you think they would've been together a lot longer if they didn't worry what you would think?” Max stayed silent at the words of your mother. “Seriously. Despite being older than you, your sister looks up to you. She sees all three of you as some of the closest people in her lives. Plus, you met P through your sister anyway. So you really can't complain because it's kind of hypocritical, Max. She loves P and loves that you guys are together, as do all of us, so seriously, you need to realise that Lando will treat her well and you need to respect it.”

Max sighed. He looked at his family. “Do you all really like them together?” Everyone agreed, including P. “Really?” He asked his girlfriend.

“Yes, Max. You should've seen how worked up she got when you tried to make Lando choose between you and her.”

“You did what?” Sam asked, now looking at his younger brother with a sense of disappointment.

When the two of you left later that day, after spending some time with your family, you spent the evening watching films and talking about the past couple of days. Not only did your family really like Lando, his family also absolutely adored him. You had spent an hour sat talking with his sister about horse riding, you had spent some time with his mother whilst she taught you how to knit, you had spent some time throughout the previous day with each member of his family, including his niece.

The pair of you sat on the sofa, your head on his shoulder as you watched Cars together for what felt like the thousandth time over the past few years you had lived together. “Do you have any objection to us making our relationship public knowledge?” He asked as you watched.

“In what way?”

“In a sense of people knowing about us, but not knowing every detail or anything, just knowing that we're in a relationship. I want to be able to hold your hand when we are out in public and to be able to hug and kiss you and stuff after races, you know?” He looked at you, placing his forehead gently against yours and bringing his hand up to hold your face. “If you don't want to, we don't have to.”

“I'm happy to make it public knowledge. You don't understand how much I've had to hold back on kissing you whenever you've got a podium.”

He laughed, getting out his phone. “Maybe I should just hard launch us on my Instagram.”

“If you do, I will too.”

He grinned, opening his gallery to a whole album of photos just of you and the pair of you together. “Deal.”

----

landonorris

Hozier - Work Song

liked by youruser and others

landonorris: I'm only me when I'm with you ❤

tagged: youruser

-view all comments-

youruser: I love you ❤

landonorris: I love you more ❤❤

user: TO HOZIER?

user2: When I tell you I screamed!! youruser: user2 same-

oscarpiastri: 2nd cutest McLaren couple

landonorris: cutest McLaren couple**

alex_albon: I believe this is what the kids nowadays call a "hard launch"

landonorris: "kids nowadays" makes you sound old youruser: He is,, another double date soon?? lilymhe: Yes, message the group chat we will plan something! x

user2: Did not have "Lando in a relationship with his best friend's twin sister" on my bingo card.

carlossainz55: Finally done something about the massive crush you had on her since you were 13, I see?

landonorris: I told you that in confidence. charles_leclerc: Mate it was kind of obvious. maxverstappen1: You looked at her with heart eyes whenever you were in the same general vicinity as her

----

youruser

Taylor Swift - Lover

liked by landonorris and others

youruser: ❤❤

-view all comments-

-comments limited-

landonorris: I love you so much ❤

youruser: I love you❤

lilymhe: Cuteeeee

youruser: ❤

riabish: So unexpected but so cute

youruser: Thank you! x

pietra.pilao: Adorable 💕

youruser: xx

maxfewtrell: Message me please.

youruser: 👍

-The End-

-Word Count: 2,143 (not including social medias-

Hi all! Hope you're well, here's another part of the Lando series!! Hope you enjoyed, have a good day. There will likely only be one more part of this!! Alocon

266 notes · View notes

janeyseymour · 8 months

Note

hii!! im hoping you’re taking requests rn and if you aren’t it’s okay, but i really wanted to request this just incase you are taking them..

a melissa x reader where r takes mel home for a family reunion (they’ve been dating for a while and readers family is dying to meet mel). the readers mom has always been a bit uncertain about mel and a argument happens between the reader and their mom.. melissa (the overprotective amazing gf that she is) steps in to help the reader and stands up for her.

Hi! I took a few creative liberties here, I hope that's okay! Buckle up because this one is a lil angsty... oopsies!

Family Dynamics

WC: ~3.5k

“Amore,” Melissa sighs as she pulls on her signature leather jacket. “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

“There is everything to be worried about,” you huff as you grab the hors d’oeuvres that that the two of you were assigned to bring to this family dinner. “They might be excited to meet you, but my mother can be… a lot. And she’s pretty… judgmental.”

“It’s nothin’ I can’t handle,” she tries to assure you. “Take a deep breath. It’s all gonna be okay.”

You do as she says, and then you bite your lip. “They also don’t know that we… that we’re an age gap couple.”

“Oh,” she frowns slightly. “Didn’t want to tell them that you’re with an old lady?”

“You know it isn’t like that,” you sigh. “It’s that I knew if I told my mom before she met you, she would already have thoughts about you, and you wouldn’t get a chance. It would be game over.”

“For me or for you?”

“Both of us,” you sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”

You pull into the driveway of your childhood home, and Melissa looks over at you. “Hun, it’s going to be fine. I promise.”

“Can we just sit here for a few minutes? I need a couple of minutes to get my bearings.”

“You just tell me when you’re ready,” she tells you as you lean forward and put your head between your knees. She rubs your back soothingly. When you’ve given her the okay, she hops out of the car, opens the back seat to grab the appetizers, and then makes her way around to your side of the car. She opens the car door for you as she always does.

“It’s all going to be okay,” she tells you quietly. “And if you feel that we should leave, we can. But the longer we hold this off, the worse it’s going to be for us.”

“You’re right,” you mumble as you unbuckle your seatbelt and climb out of the car.

“It took you long enough,” your mother opens the door after you knock once. “I watched the two of you pull in ten minutes ago.”

“I needed a couple minutes, mom,” you sigh as you hug her.

“You act like I’m a monster,” your mother rolls her eyes before releasing you. She looks Melissa up and down. “And you are?”

“Mom,” you scold her.

“What?”

“This is my girlfriend, Melissa,” you introduce your girlfriend. “She’s a second grade teacher at the school with me.”

“I still can’t believe you became a school teacher,” your mother mumbles. Then she really looks at the redhead. “You didn’t tell me about…” she gestures between the two of you.

“Because it doesn’t matter?” you ask her. “Why should it matter? I love her, she loves me, and we’re-”

“You love her?” your mom raises a brow.

“I do,” you tell your mother. “And you’re going to play nice tonight, right?”

She nods, although she continues to look over Melissa.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kristen,” your girlfriend says cordially, and you can feel the way that she’s squeezing you hand. She’s silently telling you that it’s taking everything in her to be kind to your mother.

“It’s Mrs. Y/N,” your mother bites out. “Well, come in, I suppose. Do you want a glass of wine? I don’t have to worry about serving an underage like I usually do with Y/N’s girlfriends.”

“Where’s Dad?” you cut in before Melissa can say anything- you know the age gap is a bit of a sore subject for her.

“He’s in the garage fixing his car,” your mother tosses over her shoulder as she heads for the kitchen.

“We’re going to say hi to Dad,” you pull Melissa away from your mother and head for the garage.

As you enter the garage, your dad’s head pops out from under the hood of his car. “There’s my girl,” he grins as he wipes his hands on his jeans.

“Hi, Dad,” you grin right back. You hug him tightly.

He wipes his hands again on a towel before hugging you right back. As he releases you, he glances over at Melissa, staring at his car.

“You must be Melissa,” he chuckles. “Y/N mentioned that you would be gawking over my car.”

“I am,” the redhead takes her eyes off the car to give your father a firm handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Y/N.”

“Oh, none of that shit,” he laughs a hearty laugh. “You met my wife first, didn’t you?” he asks with a knowing look. “John.”

“Nice to meet you, John,” Melissa replies back, and you can tell that she’s a little less tense in the presence of your father. “That’s one nice car you got there.”

“It was my first,” he grins as he looks over his challenger. “I try to keep it in as nice a condition as possible, but right now it’s making a couple of funny noises. So I’m trying to figure out what’s going on and what parts I need to order to get it right again.”

“If you want, I know a guy,” Melissa offers with her signature smirk.

“I just might take you up on that offer,” your dad smiles. “You know anything about cars?”

“Enough,” she says with a shrug.

“You wanna help me look at it and have a beer?”

“You got Yuengling?” she asks.

You father practically beams. He nudges you with his elbow. “I like this one already.”

“I do too,” you grin. “While you two gawk over the car, I’m going to check if Mom needs any help in the kitchen… behave, you two.”

You kiss Melissa’s cheek softly before heading back inside, and you can already hear those two laughing about cars. You knew they would get along.

“Need any help with-” you start to ask, but your mother whips around.

“When the hell were you going to tell me that your girlfriend is practically my age?!”

“I didn’t think it mattered,” you shrug as you pick up a carrot and start shredding it for your mother. “She’s a great woman, and you would see that if you stopped judging people at a first glance.”

“It’s human instinct!” your mother argues. “That’s what we all do!”

“All I’m saying is,” you sigh. “Give her a chance. I love her. She’s a hell of a lot better than most of the girls I’ve brought home before.”

“When are you just going to admit that this whole ‘I like women’ thing is just a phase?”

“Mom,” you groan. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you: it isn’t a phase. I’m a lesbian. I’ve always been a lesbian, and I always will be.”

“We’ll see,” your mother sighs. “I’m holding out hope.”

“Dad’s fine with it,” you roll your eyes. “I wish you would come to terms with it too.”

The two of you finish prepping the meal in silence. You can hear your father and Melissa laughing loudly out in the garage as they try to fix the car. Then they’re quiet, and you get nervous. That’s never good- it definitely means they’re plotting something. Your dad’s head pokes into the house.

“Red and I are gonna take ol’ Bets for a spin,” he announces. “Smalls, you in?”

You look to your mom nervously, and she’s glaring at your girlfriend through the small crack in the door. “I really would rather you stay here. Dinner is almost ready.”

“Aw, c’mon Kris,” your dad sighs. “We’ll be back before dinner… we just want to see if we got it to stop humming!”

“You’re doing the dishes afterwards,” your mother tells him with a roll of her eyes. She pours herself another glass of wine.

“Yes, dear,” your dad says automatically.

“C-can I go?” you ask your mother hesitantly.

“C’mon, hun,” you hear Melissa’s voice.

You look at your mother again, who is giving you a warning look.

“Oh, Kris,” your father tries to get her to ease up. “She’s been working hard, she helped you, let her spend some time with her old man and her girlfriend.”

“If you all aren’t back by the time dinner is on the table, we’re going to have issues,” Kristen tells you all.

You practically bolt back out to the garage. “God, I don’t know how you do it, Dad,” you grumble once you close the door behind you.

“We make a good team for the most part,” your dad shrugs. “And all I have to say is: happy wife, happy life.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Melissa chuckles as she opens the car door for you.

“You take the front,” you tell her. “I ride in this all the time.”

“Thank you, hun,” the redhead kisses your cheek as she slides in. You climb into the back as your dad gets in on the driver’s side.

“So, how long do we have?” your father asks.

“About forty minutes,” you sigh. “Please use the whole time. Mom is getting on me again.”

“About?”

“Can we not talk about it?” you request softly. Melissa turns and gives you a concerned look. “It’s whatever. I’m fine, I promise.”

“If that’s what you want,” your dad tells you. “So… Y/N’s told us a bit about you, but what else is there to know?”

You half expect Melissa to not answer or be as short as possible. She hates talking about herself. But instead, she starts to tell your father about herself. About Abbott, about the things that she likes to cook, how the two of you met, what you two like to do together… and it’s refreshing to see her open up. You find yourself holding onto her every word, despite the fact that you already know all of it.

“Now,” your dad turns to look at the redhead once he hits a stoplight. “I have to ask…”

“Dad,” you groan. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“I’m a dad. It’s my job to embarrass you,” he quips. “Why my daughter?”

That gets Melissa going. Her favorite thing to talk about is you and why she chose you. By the time she’s finished rambling, your father is giving her a knowing smile. And that brings you back to the house.

“Well, that was a nice drive,” your father smiles. “And it even looks like we got the car to stop humming… well done, Schemmenti.” Your girlfriend just gives him a head nod and a smirk. He heads in a minute later, leaving you and the redhead to your own devices for a couple minutes.

“So?” you ask Melissa nervously as you get out of the car.

“Your dad and I get along great,” she tells you as she too climbs out of the car. “I can see a lot of him in you.”

“That’s what everyone says,” you chuckle. “I got my dad’s personality and my mom’s looks.”

“He was telling me how the two of you used to play catch or try to fix his car together… you sounded like a pretty cute kid.”

You shrug. “If I was with my dad, it meant I wasn’t with my mom.”

“Y/N! Melissa! Dinner!” your mom whips the door open, and she glares when she sees the two of you leaning against your father’s car- your head resting on Melissa’s shoulder.

Dinner is tense. Your dad makes it much less tense, but you can feel your mother’s eyes staring at the two of you as if you’re about to burst into flames at any second for being in love with each other. You hear the way she criticizes everything you’ve put your life into- your job, Melissa, even stupid stuff like the sweater you chose to wear to come to dinner tonight. Your mother gets her digs in about the two of you as an item while your father tries to soften the blow and get her to back down. She doesn’t and finally… you’ve had enough. She’s always been merciless when it comes to your partners, but she has the added fuel of Melissa being a significant amount of years older than you, and she’s just relentless.

“We’re done,” you throw your napkin down on the table. “I’m done. C’mon, Mel.”

“Oh, here we go again,” your mother rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “The drama that comes with having you for a-”

“The drama that comes with having you for a mother!” you don’t bite your tongue. “You’re the one who asked me to bring around Melissa, and then you have nothing but an absolute shit attitude! I’m sick of you criticizing every fucking move I make! So, I’m done! We’re leaving, and don’t expect us to-”

“You’re the one who brought around a cradle robber!” your mother spits out.

“Kristen,” your dad tries to cut in.

“Oh my fuckin’ God, Mom!” you shoot out of your chair.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vein!” your mother scolds you. And you would usually back down, but not tonight. You’re at your breaking point, after all of these years.

“I’ll say whatever the hell I damn well please!” you snarl. “I am a grown ass woman, and I don’t have to take any more of this shit! I’m done!” You grab your bag. “C’mon, Mel.”

Your girlfriend has wide eyes, and she looks terrified. You’re usually a quiet, mellow, laid back woman… she’s never seen you with such a fire in your eyes. “Hun?”

“I said let’s go!” you bark. Before she can reply, you turn on your heel and head out, slamming the door as you go.

Almost instantly, your father is out of his chair and following you. “Y/N!” he calls after you. “Sweetheart!”

That leaves your mother and Melissa sitting at the dinner table together. Now it’s your girlfriend’s turn to have a fire grow in her eyes.

“I don’t know where the hell you think you get away speaking to your daughter like that,” the redhead growls out as she grabs her bag. “Y/N is a wonderful woman with a great head on her shoulders, she is one of the best teachers we have at Abbott, and she has a heart of gold. If you can’t get over the fact that she loves who she loves, then that’s your loss.”

“What the hell do you know?” your mother folds her arms over her chest.

“I’ve been around the block a time or two,” your girlfriend says lowly. “I know a good mother when I see one, and I know a mother who is about to lose her daughter when all she can do is criticize every aspect of her daughter’s life. You’re going to lose her, and she might not regret it, but you will.”

And with that, your girlfriend leaves your mother to sit at the dinner table alone and let her words sink in. Melissa comes outside to see your father embracing you as you cry gently into his shoulder.

“Hey,” your girlfriend whispers as she sets a gentle hand on your shoulder. Her and your father catch each others’ eyes for a few seconds, and they both silently convey how sad they are that this is how dinner ended up.

“I- I’m sorry,” you hiccup out as you turn to hug her. “I’m so sorry.”

“You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, hun,” she whispers as she takes you into her arms and strokes your hair. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

You nod shakily as you turn to face your father again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper to him as you practically fall into his arms. “I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I’m sorry she’s being like this again,” he whispers. “Get home, have a glass of wine, and let me try to talk to her, okay? I’ll see what I can do”

“Y-yeah,” you mumble. “Okay. Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” your dad kisses your temple and lets you go. He makes his way back into the house, and you can hear him telling your mother that they need to talk. Good lord. This was not how dinner was supposed to go at all. Although looking back on it, you suppose you don’t know how else it would go. Dinners with significant others usually go this way.

You had driven over, but with the emotional state you’re in now, Melissa guides you to the passenger side and helps you in before climbing into the driver’s seat and pulling off.

“I don’t know how your father ended up with her,” your girlfriend tries to joke. She can tell that you aren’t in the mood though, so she shuts her mouth. She has a gentle hand on your thigh, and she’s humming softly, knowing it calms you down. Once you can finally breathe again and the tears subside, she looks over at you.

“You wanna talk about it?” she offers.

“I- I’m sorry that ended in explosives,” you apologize.

“That was like a piece of cake compared to my family, she chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

“She’s always been like that,” you whisper. Melissa turns down the radio and gestures for you to continue if you want.

“From the start, I’ve been a failure in her eyes,” you tell her quietly. “I was too quiet, I was too weird or silly… basically anything I did that was appropriate for my age was wrong. As I got older, it got worse. She criticized the things I liked to do, telling me it was a waste of time. I was too fat, and then I was too thin. She didn’t like my hair, she didn’t like my clothes. Any thing that I did was just wrong. And then,” you sniffle. “I told my parents I thought I didn’t like men. Dad… he was fine with it. You met him- he’s about as easygoing as it gets. But Mom… she was furious.”

“Oh, honey,” Melissa sighs sadly.

“I got the ‘It’s just a phase’ talk about a hundred times. The first time I brought home a girlfriend in high school, she about flipped her shit. That was the last time I saw Anna. Because with Dad away for a conference, Mom took it upon herself to drive me to a conversion therapy place.” You shake your head, remembering what that had been like. “When Dad came home the next week, he was furious. He drove up and got me out of there as fast as he could, apologizing over and over again for not being able to stop her- that he had no idea she was going to do that. That was the last time my dad took a business trip until I had moved out of the house- he was terrified it was going to happen again.”

“Amore, I’m so sorry,” Melissa whispers.

“When senior year rolled around, I told them I didn’t want to go for engineering like Mom wanted… I wanted to be a teacher. That was like World War three broke out. My parents almost got divorced over that one… Dad supported me, saying that I was making a good choice doing something I loved while Mom told me that I couldn’t have been a bigger disappointment to her.”

“You’re a great teacher- one of the best Abbott has,” your girlfriend tells you gently as she pulls into her driveway. “Your dad and I were talking about that earlier in the garage.”

“And that’s great that you guys think that…” you sigh, and your eyes fill with tears as you turn to look at Melissa. “But I… All I want is my mother’s approval. I want her love and affection. Do you know how shitty it is that the one person who is supposed to love me the most, the person I grew inside of, can’t stand a single aspect about me?” A tear falls down your face, and Melissa is quick to wipe it away with the pad of her thumb.

It absolutely breaks the redhead’s heart to hear those words tumble out of your mouth.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” she whispers.

After a bit, the two of you make your way into her house, and you curl up on the couch together. You fall asleep to her heartbeat and her fingers delicately combing through your hair while the two of you watch your comfort movie. As she’s sitting there, your phone lights up on the coffee table in front of her. It’s a text from your father, and then a second text comes through from your mother.

I talked to Mom. I’m sorry for tonight. If it means anything at all, I already love Mel. She’s a good fit for you, the text from your dad reads.

We need to talk, is all your mom sends.

Deciding now is not the time for you to see that text, you had only just calmed down after a second round of tears, she flips your phone over with her foot. She shakes you gently.

“Amore?” she whispers. “I think maybe it’s time for us to head up to bed.”

You groan awake but nod. “Bed. Need you tonight.”

“I know,” Melissa whispers. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. Through it all.”

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic

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itsmebytch001 · 10 months

Text

Based Loolsy on a draft @xxoxobree Hope you like it.

After the incident Miles came to stay with you and Aaron, the house was not equipped to house a third person but you made do, Miles slept on the couch some nights and on the floor on others, most his stuff was still unpacked shuttled away in one corner of your room Sharpie scribbled on the fronts, he had only unpacked some changes of clothing to then stuff in your draws the whole house was so much more cramped everything felt like an overflow to you, but not to Miles he didn’t seem to feel much of anything just vacant looking off out the window most days or sleeping and when he was up and present he’d respond, or excuse himself to the bathroom to softly cry to himself.

But what can be expected of a boy who just lost both his parents?

It was to quick, unexpected like the rug had been pulled out from under you, you remember the look on your Dad’s face when he got the call from the hospital-

“Mr Davis? This is Brooklyn Hospital your registered as Jefferson Davis emergency contact Yes? And what’s your relationship to Jefferson Davis? Siblings? I’m very sorry to have to inform you but Jefferson Davis and his Wife, Rio Morales passed not long ago, their Son is still in the lobby, he’s gone into shock”

And once you arrived in the hospital half a hour later Miles was still sitting in the lobby silently crying to himself, it took him three days to finally speak to you, or to Aaron.

Moving him in was rough, it was Aaron or foster and Aaron was no fool, he knew if Mies were to go into foster he might as well be dead, so for the sake of his nephew he moved him in, and the moving process was rough, to say the least, Miles didn’t enter the house, he stood in the hallway while you and Aaron sifted though stuff, clothing, documents, dishes books anything at all deciding what would and would not be donated, while you were folding Miles clothing and carefully placing them into a large cardboard box you looked out the room to catch a glimpse of your Dad wiping his eyes while holding a NYPD shirt that he later would gift to Miles, along with all of Auntie Rio’s jewellery.

Aaron got real overprotective very quickly after wards taking to too and from places not letting you out by yourself ever, even to see friends you knew he was just afraid of the possibility of you being hurt rationally but really it just felt like he was trying to cage you, lovingly.

Y/n: “But Pa! I promised Misa I’d be there like a month ago I got her a present and everything i can’t just bounce now”

Aaron: “ I know baby, but the streets are hot right now it’s not safe”

Y/n:” she doesn’t even live an hour away this isn’t fair-“

Aaron: “ life is not fair Y/n”

Y/n: “but why?! Am I grounded?”

Aaron: “you will be you keeping raising your voice at me like that”

Y/n: “you know what? Screw this I’m heading out” you said you you approached the door Turing the door knob and pulling it towards you only to have a hand look up over you and press it shit from above.

Aaron: “ don’t be cute Y/n, you pull something like that again I’m going to have to take your keys”

Y/n:” you can’t take my keys I live here?”

Aaron: “ keep running your mouth see what you have left”

Y/n: “uuuuugggghhhhh” you groaned heading back to you room to mope.

Sometimes he would even come into your room at night, just to check you didn’t slip off, he’d know if you had the man can sense it, but just in case just peaking open to the door to see the rise and fall of your chest to confirm to himself you were home and safe, but tonight he didn’t check on you, as he was out on a ‘job’ but you could still hear the soft sound of the heavy breathing coming from the living room…it’s Miles.

You get out of bed causing it to creek, the crying immediately stops in a rushed hush as you hear him rummage in the blankets, you slowly push open the door.

Y/n:”…Miles?”

Nothing

Y/n: “ Miles?”

Miles: “ what?”

Y/n:” you okay?”

Miles:” yeah I’m fine” he said flatly

Y/n:” you sure?”

Miles: “ go back to sleep Y/n”

Y/n:” you are not my father, do not tell me what to do”

Miles: “ well if he were here right now he’d tell you get your ass back to bed”

Y/n: “ if he were here right now he’d tell you not to talk to me that way, jeez just trying to check up on you”

Miles:” I don’t need to be checked up on Y/n I’m not a child”

Y/n: “Oh my God you try and be nice and he spits in your face” you mummer as you shut the door on him and flip back into your bed drifting off for a time, only to hear the creek of your bed room door, you expect Aaron but instead a far smaller man is there in the door way.

Miles: “ Y/n?”

… you hear him but choose to ignore.

Miles: “Y/n” he says louder lightly tapping your shoulder.

Y/n:” what?” You groaned rolling over to face your blanket.

Miles: “move you will you?”

Y/n:” no? This is my bed go sleep on the couch,peasant”

Miles:” bitch move up before a shove you off, you try sleeping on that thing see how your back feels”

He said shoving you to the left as he layed himself next to your right.

Y/n: “ ugh, what ever”

Miles: “I’m sorry… about earlier”

Y/n:” huh?”

Miles:” I said I’m sorry, about earlier”

Y/n: “ it’s fine, just wanted to check on you no need to be so rude”

Miles: “ I know, I know it’s just…I can’t bare it, any of it I can’t keep…keep”

Y/n:” keep what?”

Miles: “ going, I guess”

Y/n: “ what do you mean by that?” You asked conceded.

Miles: “ it’s just so weird…I keep waking up and being confused why I’m at Uncle Aaron’s until I remember…those moments when I don’t know why I’m here are the only okay times…I just…I just”

Y/n:” I know Miles…I know I can’t imagine how I’d feel if my Dad died, I think I’d just collapse”

Miles: “ I don’t like being a burden on Uncle Aa-“

Y/n:” don’t say that Miles, you are not a burden we took you in because your family and we love you, Aaron was never gonna let you go into foster care because that place is just a trap”

Miles: “ I know but…it’s so cramped and I’m eating your food and-“

Y/n:” Miles, nobody gives a fuck that it’s camped and that you eat food like a normal human person, food and space isn’t a problem you deserve a decent place to live that’s all, okay?”

Miles:”…yeah okay”

Y/n:” since you hate the couch so much, I gotta air mattress you could use”

Miles:”…you’ve had a fucking air mattress this whole time and you let me sleep on the couch?”

Y/n:” I thought you liked the couch”

Miles:” it’s studded? You thought I liked sleeping on a metal stubbed couch for real?”

Y/n:” well…yeah”

Miles used his legs to swiftly push you off the bed, and into the floor.

Y/n:” what the fuck?!”

Miles:” YOU sleep on that damm thing Y/n, you tell me how much you like it, I’m having the nice bed for once” he grumbled pushing his face into your pillow.

Y/n: "I-I, well fine" You said exiting your room for the living room sitting on the hard leather studded couch.

#aaron davis #dad aaron davis #platonic yandere #yandere miles morales #jeff morales #rio morales x reader #uncle aaron #aaron davis x reader #yandere morales family #yandere spiderverse

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yanverse · 5 months

Note

I have to see my husband, show me Yuri. Please.

bbg i GOT chu husband incoming <33 i present to you my yuri magnum opus !!

"Mr. Maeda"

(cws: gn pronouns, work meet cute, office romance, a bit of petty theft, work-inappropriate kisses, obsessive & overprotective behavior, yuri's a lil secret creep)

wc: 3.3k

Here it is. The starting point of the rest of your life. You worried it might be some big, huge corporate building that you'd sooner get lost in than find your way to the office written on your little sheet of paper, but it was small enough to fit its two-story self smack dab on the corner of the avenue. Easy to access, walkable from where you just moved…and still terrifying. This was the only place that would hire you and the first job you'd had that was actually in your field, so to screw this up would ruin years of potential prospects if you ever decided to move upwards and onwards. There was a whole lot riding on this, but all you could do was swallow those doubts and keep your chin up as you pushed through the door and took your first step into the future.

Ting-ing. A bell chimed overhead to signal your arrival, all other noise from the street growing muffled as the door closed behind you. It was…elegant. Even for an interior decorating office, it seemed lavish. The floors were shiny with fresh wax and the furniture was all arranged so delicately you wouldn't even want to sit, the waiting room off to your left and a showroom to your right while a long hallway extended past the front desk on the far side of the wall. It was all decorated in deep red and white tones for the most part along with some other complementary hues, all save for the bored-looking young woman at the desk who wore a baby-blue top and torn jeans. If nothing else, at least the dress code seemed pleasantly loose.

"H..." You squeaked out your greeting like a shy mouse as you approached her, her eyes stuck to the pages of a book that laid open by her keyboard. “..H-Hello.”

"Yuri's by appointment only, please book online."

Her instructions came out as bland and monotone as you could ever imagine, a business card with the URL slapped down on the upper counter of her desk to stare right back at you. She hadn't peeled her eyes away from her reading for even a second, but when she did, it was because you'd cleared your throat and mustered up the courage to say that you were actually here for the job.

"Here for the–oh!" The mere sight of you had her flipping her novel shut and getting up from her seat, her hand stuck out to greet yours as a look of embarrassment overtook her features. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were–e-er, never mind. Welcome! I'm Angel."

Despite her relatively gentle appearance, the squeeze of her hand was strong–you had little space to dwell on those minor details though, as she briskly skirted around her desk to wave you towards the hall. "I'll take you back to meet Yuri, right this way."

Clack. Clack. Clack. It wasn't her flats but your polished shoes clicking loudly on the tile, echoing your nerves in the silence that was only peppered by the distant hum of computers and occasional chatter. You'd no idea exactly how many agents worked here, just that it was a small agency. Less people to impress, but more intense scrutiny if you happened to disappoint them with your skills….or lack thereof. God, please let your heart stop beating so loud. Angel reached for a door near the very end of the corridor and you took a deep breath, one that was probably noticeable since she reassured you with a look and a curt smile as it opened.

"Yuri! Your protégé is here," Her grin grew wider as you balked at her introduction, she patted your shoulder in parting and slipped away as you forced yourself through the doorway and into the brightly-lit office crammed with desks. Chairs had been tucked in tight to allow more room to manoeuvre since it was oddly cramped, but that was mostly because nobody sat in them; your coworkers either leaned against the desks or by the huge bay windows letting in the midday sun, and each and every one of their heads turned to face you once you took a step into their domain. Not one of them commanded your attention like he did, though.

"Oh, please, Angel. Try not to embarrass me, would you?" His voice, airy and smooth, reached you where you stood and nearly buckled your knees before you even got a glimpse of him. The assembly that loosely surrounded him made way for his lithe frame to step around the furniture and head towards you, smiles creeping across their faces and whispers exchanged between them–it almost distracted you long enough not to look up once he finally stood in front of you.

Oh no.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Ah…" His eyes darted down from your feet to roam their way back up to your eyes in a single pass, so brief you might've thought it never even happened. "...A real pleasure, my sweet." Yuri's cool, soft hands clamped around yours in a gentle handshake, though he barely moved it and rather just held you there like he needed an excuse to stare longer.

Oh, god. Your boss is too attractive to get anything done.

"Y-You too, sir. I've really been looking forward to this." You tried not to stutter out your answer, though Yuri seemed endeared nonetheless and urged you to forget the honours, his grip just barely brushing you once more as he finally managed to drop your hand.

"Let's…oh, what was I saying?" He blinked with an absent gaze, attention fixated on something over your shoulder before he came back down to earth. A quick glance in your peripheral betrayed nothing of note, aside from your own hair. But to think anything of that would be odd, and far be it from you to put your foot in your mouth in front of a boss that actually seemed to like you. "Oh! Right, right–why don't I show you around? We'll get you settled in a minute, but I'll give you a tour first."

He extended an arm out elegantly towards the office, your new coworkers clamouring to get their introductions in to the fresh meat in their presence–yet in all the time he spent showing you around, Yuri didn't seem to take his eyes off you for more than a moment or two.

Which was either a terrible omen of things to come, or a very, very good sign.

The first three days of a new job were usually the most difficult, but a week had passed now and you could swear the hard part just wasn't coming. Every task you'd been given had been a breeze, and with no real assignments yet since you were still in the learning phase, you were practically getting paid to sit around, experiment with your room designs in the decorator software, and chat with your coworkers in between group lunches and the occasional outing to visit potential clients.

The man that had now established himself as your boss was nothing at all like what you expected. Sure, your expectations were certainly lower after your last job plummeted you into financial hell and mental anguish, but you expected the top agent of the city's biggest interior design conglomerate to be somewhat prudish, egotistical, and impossible to please.

But Yuri Maeda was nearly the complete opposite of that. He was by no means lackadaisical, and he did carry a certain air of class about him in the way he walked and talked, but he was not at all like other bosses you'd worked for before. He remembered your name when you walked in the door, and he welcomed you with open arms. He was kind to you and spoke gently of your mistakes, and no matter what, he'd never raised his voice or talked down to anyone about anything.

And he was so, so easy on the eyes. His age showed in nothing but his white hair and even that was more of a fashion statement than anything else–you wouldn't assume a man that barely crested 30 would be so rife with grays under normal circumstances. He didn't even dress like a boss; he'd foregone a suit and tie in exchange for loose, flowing clothing, his shirt hung low to show off his pronounced collarbones while his pants hugged tight to his hips and accentuated those long legs that just kept on going. You'd once asked about his background, and the way his face lit up at the chance to talk about his infancy in Morocco and adolescence in Japan had been the highlight of your day, no doubt. You'd rarely seen such a professional and well-bred man talk so excitedly of his roots while brewing you some coffee and pulling out old photos of his home countries. It was an almost childlike interest, and it endeared him to you even more if that was even possible.

Yuri had a strange habit, however. At first you thought you were getting hazed by the frequency with which your office supplies was going missing, but soon you started noticing that whatever item you had lost would magically appear in Yuri's hands. You'd caught him with your pencil behind his ear, your colourful paperclips attached to his files, once you could've sworn that someone had taken a sip from the drink you'd left on your desk, though there was no way for you to prove that was even the case.

Whatever was going on with that, it took a backseat to the unbelievably good treatment you were getting at the office. You couldn't make yourself mess this up on purpose–you had to try as hard as you ever had to make this work and make it last. Where else were you going to get such a nice boss that called you cute nicknames and bought you lunch on a whim?

But soon came the day that you'd been scheduled to help your first client. You'd been excited leading up to it, eagerly absorbing every ounce of advice that Yuri provided as you prepared to flex your skills.

When you came back to the office in tears, however, that dream had clearly been shattered. Angel at the front desk could barely catch you before you dashed into the bathroom to hide, and even when she followed you in to see what was the matter she herself couldn't believe her ears.

“They hated it,” You sniffled from within the stall, your feet pulled up to press your knees to your chest as if the echoes of your sobs off the walls wasn't enough to tell that you were there.

“Hated what?”

“Everything! They hated the colours, and my d-designs, they said they were terrible–the worst they've ever seen! They made fun of me!” You sobbed, the events of the morning sending fresh pains into your heart as you heard your own voice repeating them. Angel heaved a sigh from the other side of the bathroom door.

“I'm getting Yuri. Hold on.”

“No, please, I–I can't let him see me like this, I-” Despite your pleas, the sounds of Angel's shoes pattering away left you feeling defeated, and you slumped your head between your knees. The shame and embarrassment of having such confidence, only to have it ruined in one fell swoop, felt like too much to bear. You wanted to run and hide forever, dig a hole deep enough and jump in.

You wanted to quit, but you couldn't bear it if Yuri fired you–and after several minutes, hearing a sudden barrage of shouting that sounded like his voice outside the bathroom, you had a feeling that was exactly what was coming. You knew it was too good to be true. Deep down Yuri desired perfection, and you were not that–not even close enough to have tried.

Just when you started to consider slipping out of the bathroom and facing the music rather than stay inside and keep sobbing pathetically, the door creaked open. Taut footsteps hesitantly stepped inside, and by the soft breathing, you knew exactly who it was. He rapped gently on the stall door with his knuckles. It took you a moment to slide off the closed lid of the toilet seat, the lock jiggling loudly in the eerie quiet as you slowly opened the door.

At first glance, he looked flushed and out of sorts. His hair was mussed, and his breathing was uneven. He had his inhaler in the hand at his side, but whether he had taken a puff or not already, you couldn't tell. The silence, save for that, was painful.

Unsure of what to say, you looked back at him as he did the same to you. Your eyes were puffy and your cheeks tearstained and still wet, while his chest heaved hard enough that the quiet was finally broken decidedly by a click, and then a deep inhale of breath as he pressed his inhaler to his mouth.

“Mr. Maeda? Are you…okay?”

“How many times…” He trailed off, only to cough slightly into his arm, and take another deep puff of his medicine. With that, his lungs finally seemed to clear, and he could take deeper, longer breaths while slipping the inhaler into his pocket. “...I told you, don't have to call me that.”

“You're my boss.”

“I'm also your friend.”

“...Am I fired?” Your question twisted itself out, because it was inevitable to come off your lips, but it was so soft and meek you felt shameful yourself just asking it. Yuri shook his head.

“No, no you're not–you’re not fired, sweetheart. You're invaluable to my team. You're not going anywhere.” He seemed convinced beyond belief, but you weren't quite there yet. Despite his earnestness, despite his friendliness and charm that was distinctly Yuri, you couldn't quite bring yourself to trust that you were really that special in his eyes.

“Th-They hated my designs,” You sniffled, and brought your fingers up to smudge the tears that ran fresh down your cheek. You couldn't yet bring yourself to meet his eyes. “All of them. They said they were worthless, Yuri. They didn't like them.”

“I know.” He shook his head again, a twinge of something fierce coming over his expression. “They were wrong. Just so you know, I told them so over the phone.” He looked a bit sheepish, quietly rubbing the back of his neck. So that must have been the yelling you heard…

“Wh-What? Yuri, they were part of a big account, their main client-”

“Listen, sweetheart.” He leaned in suddenly, using his height to his advantage as he loomed over you. Not in a menacing way, but more…almost protective, in a sense. “They were worthless. Don't think about them anymore. They weren't worth your designs, nor your time.”

It shocked you to hear him speak so callously of a client, when he had always shown nothing but utmost professionalism in dealing with even the most snobbish of customers. It seemed like there was almost a shift inside him, like something had snapped to make him shout those people down over the phone, and now had him nearly cornering you in the stall as he got closer and closer to you. Only your wide, nervous eyes managed to snap him out of his trance, and at your trembling he stepped back and brushed some hair out of his face as he cleared his throat.

“You…value my professional opinion, don't you?”

You nodded with little hesitation, yet a lump in your throat forced you to swallow. “Yes, of–of course, Yuri.”

“Then believe me when I say that you are far better than you think. You're smart, and very talented, and…kind, and…very, very lovely. You're a treasure to work with. I…” Even though he trailed off, his true intentions glimmered in those clear, pale eyes. “...I want you to forget everything they said to you, everything that made you cry today. They are but a speck on your life–not worth the slightest mention.”

You opened your mouth to protest on instinct; why did you deserve to feel better about it at all? Surely you must've done something wrong. You can't imagine your meager skills being worth such praise. But something was telling you that this was far deeper than the surface level of work, and Yuri just about confirmed it as he cut you off before you could get down on yourself further.

“Believe me,” He took your cheeks into his soft, sweet-smelling hands, and brushed a stray tear away with his thumb. The gesture, as gentle as it was, almost brought you to more tears with how touching it was. “People that behave in such an…uncouth way don't deserve your attention. They don't deserve your love. Your affection. Your…”

Only then did you realize how close Yuri's lips had drifted to yours. Your mouths were nearly closing in on each other, and but for any resistance on your part he would make no move to stop what was happening. This was not in your job description.

But would you really stop him from kissing you when that's all you had fantasized of until now? A small, shy smile slowly made its way across your lips, and Yuri's followed soon after as he smoothly leaned in to claim a warm, firm kiss, with a more eager introduction to his tongue than you anticipated.

A moment passed, then another, and in what seemed like ages but at the same time only a second he broke it off, his expression aghast–perhaps at realizing what he'd just done. Probably realizing that it was a terrible, terrible mistake. You stood meekly and on the cusp of a panicked fit as he brought the back of his hand to his lips, but soon the warmth in his cheeks tipped you off to what was truly stirring in his heart.

“That was…unprofessional. I didn't mean to-”

“I-It's okay, Yuri-”

“-Not in the bathroom, gods.” He seemed preoccupied, your words barely registering. He ran his fingers back through his soft, white strands of hair and took on a look of sheepish delight. “You deserve better than that. Come, let's–to my office, let's go.” He ushered you out of the stall, his grip firm on your wrist like he was too nervous to try and hold your hand.

“Yuri?” You called out, but he seemed in a daze. His breath was catching on every inhale like he was drowning in excitement, yet he was holding himself together just barely in your presence. He wouldn't make much eye contact with you, but when you did spot that look in his eyes…it seemed like he was in the midst of a calm frenzy, his exterior composed but his mind and heart all stirred up, roused, jumbled into a mess of feelings that he was trying desperately not to get lost in. He tilted his body away from you too, as if trying not to let you see him front-facing as if he had something he was nervously hiding.

“T-Take these,” He suddenly piped up, and thrusted a set of delicate keys into your palm while he turned completely away from you. It was all he could not to just hide his flushed face completely in his hands. “Go wait in my office, I'll–I just need a moment to compose myself. Please.” Yuri whined, and at his behest you agreed and stepped out of the bathroom to give him some privacy. Hearing the lock click behind you made you a bit nervous, but as you made your way out and down the hall you fiddled with the keys and thought about all that Yuri had said.

…What a strange, alluring boss he was indeed. But even so, even now, you wouldn't know even half of what Yuri was really capable of, nor what he had been planning for you since the day you walked into the office and captured his heart in your soft, beautiful hands.

#yuri maeda #yuri maeda x reader #yandereverse #yandere ocs #male yandere #3k #ellie writes #chenkari #anons

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 1 year

Text

A Supernatural Meeting at 221c Baker Street

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Sherlock and John x reader (platonic)

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you go to university in London, and make some interesting friends.

“So, this is the place,” Dean glanced around your small apartment with an appraising look.

“Yes, and it’s perfectly safe,” you scoffed. “No mold, no holes, no-“

The sudden crack of gunfire had both your brothers on high alert, but you just rolled your eyes.

“Excuse me,” you huffed, heading out your door and towards your neighbors, 221B Baker Street. Your brothers followed close on your heels.

“What the heck was that?” Sam demanded, and you waved him off.

��Nothing, I’ll take care of it,” you knocked on the door, and within seconds Mrs. Hudson was at the door, waving her hands frantically.

“Oh he’s shooting again, and John is out doing the shopping, will you please talk to him?”

“Of course Mrs. Hudson. These are my brothers, Sam and Dean, they’re going to stay down here with you while I talk to Sherlock, if that’s ok.”

Mrs. Hudson opened her mouth to reply, but Dean beat her to it.

“Like crap we are. You’re not confronting some crazy shooter alone.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you sighed. “Sherlock’s not dangerous, he’s just an imbecile.” You headed up the stairs towards Sherlock’s door, and despite your protests, your brothers followed.

You didn’t bother knocking as you shoved the door open, and Sherlock’s head jerked up in surprise, his gun hanging loosely from his hand.

“What are you-“

“Sherlock Holmes,” you glared at the man, marching up to him and holding out your hand for the gun. When he didn’t move, you snatched it out of his hands, despite his whining protests. “You’ve given poor Mrs. Hudson a heart attack, and you’re going to destroy the wall!”

“The wall is fine,” Sherlock growled.

“You’re behaving like a petulant two-year-old. You don’t have a case, so you vandalize things? That isn’t ok.”

Sherlock was about to retort, when he finally caught sight of your brothers behind you.

“Ah, Sam and Dean have come to visit.”

Sam and Dean shared a look, and you sighed.

“Sherlock, please don’t.”

“Tell Dean he can relax, the various weapons he’s itching to reach for will undoubtedly bring unwanted attention upon him.”

You glanced at Dean, and sure enough you saw his hand twitching at his side, right next to where you knew a blade was hidden.

“Dean, chill. I told you he’s not dangerous.”

“You think so?” Sherlock looked offended.

“How’d you-“

“Don’t,” you cut off Dean’s question. “Don’t ask, it just encourages him.”

“What’s going on in here?” You turned, a relieved sigh escaping you when you saw John enter the apartment. If anyone could diffuse this awkward situation between your sociopath neighbor and your overprotective brothers, it was John.

“This psychopath is shooting up the apartment,” Dean grumbled.

“High functioning sociopath,” Sherlock retorted.

“And…who are you?” John glanced back and forth between the two intimidatingly tall men in his living room, before he finally spotted you between them. “Ah, Y/N. Wait, are these…” he took another look at the boys, and you smiled.

“Yeah, this is Sam and Dean.”

“Great to meet you,” John stepped forward and shook hands with both of your brothers, who seemed hesitantly pleased at having a normal person in this conversation.

“You seem to know us,” Sam began. “But…who are you?”

“John Watson, and yeah your sister talks about you all the time. Being neighbors, we’ve gotten to know her quiet well,” John smiled at the newcomers, and they finally began to relax—slightly.

“And that guy?” Dean gestured at Sherlock.

“Ah, yes. He lives here too, he’s…different.” John seemed to piece together the last few minutes as he laid eyes on the wall. “Sherlock, the wall, again?”

“It was bothering me,” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry about him,” John sighed, turning his attention once again to the brothers.

“We’re just worried about her,” you cringed at Dean’s words, and John cut in reassuringly.

“He wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s just a big baby.”

“Yeah I told him that, it just takes a while to sink in,” you glared at Dean when he shoved your shoulder.

“John, the case,” Sherlock suddenly bolted up, and John stared at him.

“How-“

“You’re still out of breath, you rushed up the stairs, and you have the newspaper gripped much too tightly in your hand. Something’s there, something important.”

“It’s…strange,” John admitted, and you didn’t miss the way that Dean straightened.

As John laid the paper out and Sherlock poured over it, Dean and Sam slowly came up behind him, intent on the strange and grisly crime that had just occurred. You felt a smile creep up on your face.

Maybe your crazy new friends and your strange family would get along after all.

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year

Text

Midnight | Chapter 10 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - Luke becomes suspicious and starts his own investigation in your whereabouts.

A/N - this chapter is entirely about Luke and the BAU. We resume our regularly scheduled programming soon. Also Luke’s birthday isn’t mentioned in canon so I used Adam Rodriguez’s birthday for the sake of this chapter.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - overprotective Luke, swearing.

WC - 4.4k

Chapter 10 - Why Worry?

Luke Alvez was not a naturally suspicious person. Despite his years in a job in which he was trained to be apprehensive, to keep his guards up and not take things at face value, he was on the whole an exceptionally trusting guy.

It wasn’t like him to jump to conclusions, but the current situation was an exception to his rule. Maybe it was because it pertained to you, one of the few people in this world that Luke would go to the ends of the earth to protect. He had real sister’s he’d never felt he needed to look after the way he did you, possibly because they were older and always made it clear they could handle themselves.

But you could most certainly take care of yourself. You were one of the toughest people Luke had ever met in his life. You were fearless, he’d always admired that about you. But it had also never stopped him from wanting to shield you from harm since the day he met you.

It sometimes felt his job was just as much an FBI agent as it was your very own personal protector. If he allowed himself to dig deeper into that he would probably realise it was because he had feelings for you that went way beyond simple found family. But he would never admit that even to himself.

After receiving the vague phone call from you three days ago, and then the strange text, he’d thought of nothing but while the team had been away on a case. Everything was adding up in his mind, all the odd little details of your leaving the BAU and the new cell phone and he didn’t like the answers he was getting. It was like constantly trying to calculate two plus two but somehow making five. Nothing made sense to him.

He wasn’t proud of his decision to call your father but he needed answers. He’d met your parents several times over the years and he knew your dad was quite fond of him, so he hoped he wasn’t completely overstepping any boundaries.

You dad answered on the third ring as Luke was pacing his apartment a few hours after wrapping up the BAU’s latest case. Roxy watched him from the couch, clearly perturbed by her owner’s inability to stand still. He answered in a chipper voice that Luke had grown used to from your father.

“Oh hey, Mr Y/L/N, it's Luke. Alvez.” Luke scratched the back of his head, feeling a little foolish for this.

“Luke, hi. How are you?” Your father sounded surprised but not disturbed to hear from him.

“Yeah, I’m not too bad, thanks.” Luke continued his pacing. “Say, I was trying to get hold of Y/N but her cell phone keeps going to voicemail. Could I speak to her, please?”

The outcome he desired was that your father would hand the phone over to you and you would rip him a new one for his paranoia. But he was almost positive it was not what would happen.

“Uh,” your dad’s confusion was evident. “Y/N isn’t here, Luke. She hasn’t been home in months.”

And just like that, Luke’s heart fell into the pit that had formed in his stomach. He wasn’t exactly surprised, but it didn’t make the news any easier to swallow.

“What’s going on? Is everything ok, Luke?” Your dad sounded suddenly concerned and Luke scalded himself for worrying the older man like this.

“Yeah, uh…I’m sorry to have bothered you. I must have gotten my wires crossed somewhere.” Luke pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Is my daughter ok?”

“Yes, yes she’s fine. I just…I must have misheard her. I thought she said she was taking a few days off to come out to visit you but now that I think about it I think she was visiting some college friend.” Luke tried desperately to cover his tracks.

“Do you want me to call her for you?” The older man still sounded concerned.

“No, honestly it’s fine. Please don’t worry about it.” What the fuck am I doing?

“You’re sure? Do I need to be concerned, Luke?”

“No! No, of course not. Clearly I’m just a really bad listener.” He forced himself to laugh. “I’ll get hold of her. Please don’t worry about it.”

It took a few more minutes but he managed to talk your father down from the ledge in which Luke had led him to in the first place. He mentally berated himself once he was off of the phone for bothering your father like that. But it did confirm that you were not in fact in Philly like you’d said.

And before Luke could think much of it, he was leaving his apartment again after giving Roxy a little pat on the head and promising the dog he would be home soon. His investigation wasn’t over yet.

***

After getting off the phone to your dad, Luke tried to contact you on the cell number you’d called him from but found it was switched off. Then he decided to drive over to your apartment.

He let himself in with the spare key you’d given him several years ago. He was tentative as he opened the door, not sure what he expected to find.

It wasn’t entirely surprising that upon first glance, the place looked completely normal. You weren’t the tidiest person in the world so the half empty coffee mug on the kitchen counter, or the jacket over the arm of the chair weren’t out of place. Neither was the pile of washing up in the sink or the towel he found thrown on your unmade bed.

On further inspection he found some empty hangers in the closet and a couple of items of clothing he knew you loved were missing. Your favourite pair of jeans which you always told him made your ass look incredible, something he never admitted he agreed wholeheartedly with, your college hoodie which you almost always wore when you were home and a few t-shirts you wore frequently were gone. Your toothbrush was missing from the bathroom, as well as your hairbrush. A few other items seemed to have been taken too so you’d definitely gone somewhere.

He found your cell phone on the nightstand, its battery flat. He located your charger and plugged the device in, sitting on your bed while he waited for it to charge enough that he could switch it on. A few minutes passed before the little white Apple logo appeared on the screen and then he was being promoted to enter the passcode.

Your passcode had originally been your birth month and day because you were useless at remembering any other dates. He remembered telling you how easy it would be for someone to hack if you lost your phone and you’d rolled your eyes and huffed as you set a new one at his insistence.

You’d changed it to the only other date you could think of at the time: Luke’s birthday. It wasn’t exactly the most secure four numbers, but he’d been mildly flattered that you remember his birthday in the first place and so he didn’t argue it. He quickly tapped in the code, 0402, and the screen sprung to life.

He admittedly didn’t feel good about this but he was desperate. Again he didn’t know what he expected to find but he had to check. He went through your recent text messages and calls and found nothing out of the ordinary, most of which in fact were to and from him. He supposed you could have deleted something if you didn’t want it to be found, but he didn’t think you’d have a need to do that.

Nothing was out of the blue, nothing that would suggest where you might have gone and why you’d gone there in such a hurry.

He unplugged the device and left it where he found it in case you came home, before he was heading out as quickly as he arrived. His last stop before he went home was to check the parking garage around the back of the building because if you’d gone somewhere, wouldn’t you have taken your car?

He didn’t know what to think when he found your vehicle sat in its usual spot in the garage. Of course you could have flown somewhere, but it still felt strange that your car should be here. He didn’t have a good feeling about this.

***

The following morning when he got to Quantico, the first stop he made was in Penelope Garcia’s bat cave. She was sipping from her unicorn mug when he entered and she glanced at him with a roll of her eyes.

“May I help you?” She grumbled like helping him was the last thing in the world she wanted to do.

“If I gave you a phone number,” he spoke quietly, like he was imparting a secret. “A pay phone number to be specific, can you find where it is?”

Garcia pulled a face and set her mug on the desk, shaking her head in frustration at Luke.

“Newbie, when will you learn that I can find just about anything regarding anything. My superpowers are so much more advanced than your macho fugitive hunting brain can handle.” She scoffed, turning to the computer screen and hovering her fingers over the keys. “Give me the number.”

He opened his phone and found the number you’d called him from a few days ago and ignoring Garcia’s slight against him, read it out to her. Her fingers flew across the keyboard and soon enough a map popped up on the screen along with a loading bar which quickly finished its search and zoomed to a point on the map.

“Looks like that particular payphone is located on the corner of Troy Road and Oak Hill Manor in Edwardsville, Illinois.” She looked up at him to see him frowning at the screen. “Why am I looking at this? This isn’t part of any case.”

“One more favour,” he pulled up another number on his phone. “Could you look this up?”

Penelope rolled her eyes again and with a sigh that told Luke she wasn’t happy about this, she tapped the number into the computer.

“It’s unregistered. Probably a burner.” She shrugged. “What’s going on, Alvez?”

“Thanks, Garcia.” He ignored her question and turned on his heels towards the door.

“Newbie, don’t you dare walk away from me!” She called after him.

“Gotta go, thanks, really.” He flung open the door and before Garcia could scald him further he was gone.

***

Luke felt stupid when he’d explained to Emily in great detail about how he’d completely invaded your privacy. Saying it out loud made him feel like a jealous and overprotective boyfriend and punctuated most of his sentences with “I know I shouldn’t have” and “I didn’t mean to”.

By the time he was finished he was slightly out of breath and Emily was staring at him with her mouth slightly ajar in a combination of confusion and mild amusement.

“So yeah,” he exhaled. “She was in this little Podunk town in Illinois and I have no idea why but I just feel like something isn’t right, you know?”

Emily closed her mouth and rolled her lip between her teeth while she mulled over Luke’s words.

“So, what are you asking me here, Alvez?” Her brows furrowed. “Do you want to go out there?”

“Would it be a huge inconvenience if I said yes?”

“It certainly wouldn’t be ideal.” She rubbed one eye. “But I agree this all sounds a little suspicious and I don’t think you’re going to be fully here with the team until you check it out.”

“You mean…” His face started to light up.

“I can give you a day. Twenty four hours. But that’s all I can offer you Luke. I need you back here. And you’ll have to make your own way there, I can’t let you take the jet.” She laid out her orders but Luke was already grinning, bouncing up and down a little on his feet.

“Thank you Emily, thank you so much!”

“I mean it, Alvez. Twenty four hours.” She told him sternly.

“That’s all I need.” He nodded.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“I promise.” He continued to nod as he backed towards the door, wanting to get out before she changed her mind.

He would book the next available flight down to Illinois and with any luck he would be able to get hold of you and find out what was going on. He needed to see you, until he did he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking the worst.

Little did he know the worst that he could think of didn’t even come close to the reality you’d found yourself in.

***

Luke arrived in Edwardsville, Illinois that afternoon after a 2 hour flight from Washington National Airport to St Louis and then a thirty mile drive back to the small town.

He found the pay phone with relative ease thanks to Garcia’s impeccably detailed directions. It was located almost directly opposite a quaint looking B & B and figured if you were staying here then calling him from that specific pay phone made sense.

He made his way over to the farmhouse style building and followed the hand painted signs to the lobby. A blast of air conditioning hit him in the face as he entered and a shiver ran down his spine thinking it was not quite hot enough to warrant AC. But oh well, it wasn’t his electric bill.

He strolled over to the counter where a plump older woman greeted him with an amiable smile.

“Good afternoon, sir, can I get you a room?” She beamed.

“Uh, no.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out his credentials which he flashed at the woman. “I’m SSA Alvez with the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit. I’m looking for someone.”

“FBI?” She gasped. “Oh wow, we don’t see much of you around these parts. We’re just a quiet, small town.”

“I’m investigating a potential missing person.” He knew Emily would have his head for treating this like a proper investigation but he also knew he was more likely to get answers this way.

“Ok.” The woman toyed with the sleeve of her cardigan.

Luke got out his phone and pulled up a photo of you he’d taken about a year ago but you hadn’t changed much since, and turned the screen to show her.

“Have you seen this woman? We have reason to believe she used the pay phone out front a few days ago.”

The woman scrutinised your picture for a few seconds before shaking her head.

“No, sorry. I don’t recognise her.”

“Do you have security cameras?”

“Sorry, no. Like I said, we're a small town. We don’t get much trouble. No need for cameras.” She shrugged sadly.

“Can I see your guest log?”

She nodded and reached under the desk for a battered old notebook which she handed to Luke. He flicked back to Tuesday, the day you’d called him and saw only a handful names down as checking in on that day. Martin Collins paid cash and stayed one night. Laura and Hugo Perez paid by credit card and stayed for two nights. Andrew and Rose Burnett also paid cash and stayed one night.

He sighed and handed the book back to the woman with a half-smile of thanks.

“Is there anything to do around here? Somewhere someone out of town might hang out?”

“We’ve got a couple of bars around here but if you’re looking at Tuesday night, your best bet is the Corner Tavern, it does two for one shots on a Tuesday. It's about 4 miles north of here. Take Troy Road up about a mile and take a left onto Illini Drive, which will turn into Plum Street which will turn into Main Street. Keep going for about three miles and take a left on Union.” She spoke quite fast and Luke made a mental note of the directions even though his car had GPS.

“Thanks.” He nodded, pulling a business card out of his pocket and sliding it across the desk. “If you happen to see anyone who looks like her, call me, please.”

“I will.” She nodded, taking the card.

Luke trudged back outside to his car, praying to god he would get a better lead at the Corner Tavern and that he hadn’t completely wasted his time coming out here.

***

The Corner Tavern appeared to be closed and if the sign on the saloon door was to be believed, it didn’t open until six pm. Luke was most certainly not waiting that long. He nudged the door with his hip and found it open and saw a light on inside.

He tentatively walked inside, quickly spotting a long haired man behind the bar cleaning glasses. He glanced up when he heard footsteps on the floor and waved a hand at Luke.

“Sorry pal, not open. Read the sign.” He called over flippantly.

“You open for FBI?” Luke retrieved his creds and flashed them at the slightly greasy young man who pulled a face and put the glass down on the counter.

“We ain’t doing nothin’ illegal here. We’re a legit business.” He smiled a crooked smile across the bar top.

“I often find, legit businesses don’t have to proclaim their legitimacy.” Luke glared at him. “What’s your name, kid?”

Kid? Jeez I sound like Rossi. But this kid is at least twenty years younger than me.

“Connor. Connor Danvers.”

“You have any kind of seniority here, Danvers?”

“I’m the duty manager.” He looked pleased with his title. “So what does the FBI want with the legit Corner Tavern?”

Luke pulled out his phone and showed Connor the same photo of you he’d shown the woman at the Heartland but Connor barely glanced at it before shrugging.

“She may have been here Tuesday night.” Luke tried to jog his memory.

“Lotta people come through here. ‘Specially on a Tuesday. It’s our busiest night, what with the two for one shots and all.” He grinned that smarmy smile was rubbing Luke the wrong way.

“Look closer.” Luke spat, moving the phone closer to Danvers face.

“I don’t recognise her man! Sorry.” He pushed the phone away.

Luke clenched his jaw and huffed out a breath. One of many things that hadn’t been sitting right with him was the close proximity in time in which you and Spencer left the BAU. Was there more to it than simple coincidence? On a whim he found a photo of Spencer and turned the screen back to Connor.

“What about him?”

This time, Connor took a closer look, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he scrutinised the photo. After a few long seconds he shrugged.

“He kinda looks familiar.” Connor agreed. “There was a guy in here on Tuesday that looked a little like him. Definitely an out of towner, I’d never seen him before. But that’s not usual on a Tuesday. He was making out with some blonde but then another girl came in, maybe the one you showed me, and they started having it out. Assumed it was his girlfriend or his wife or something. Anyway they started arguing and she stormed out. He followed her and that’s the last time I saw him.”

Luke pocketed his phone and took in the information as he glanced around the bar.

“I suppose it would be stupid of me to ask if this place has security cameras?”

“We do not.” Connor chuckled. “Owner forked out thousands on redoing this place like a year ago but never sprung for cameras. Truth be told, we don't get a lot of trouble. Tourists are usually on their best behaviour and locals know better. Sure we get the occasional scuffle out in the parking lot but once they walk through those doors, ain’t our concern anymore, you know?”

“Of course.” Luke spoke sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. “You’ve been a great help.”

Luke turned on his heels and headed to the door, not feeling much lighter than when he walked in. He got back in the hire car and called Emily. She put him on speaker with Garcia and he filled them both in what he’d found. Or more accurately he supposed, what he hadn’t found.

“You think she’s with boy wonder?” Garcia gasped.

“I mean the timeline fits.” He shrugged. “And they were good friends.”

“I tracked Y/N’s credit card and it hasn’t been used since last Saturday night at McCleary's.” Garcia told him a little sadly.

“Yeah I was with her.” Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. “What about her passport, has it been used lately? Her car was at her apartment, but she must have gotten to Illinois somehow.”

“Checking, checking.” Garcia tapped away on her keyboard for a moment or two. “Nada on her personal or department issued passports.”

“How about Reid’s?”

“On it.” Garcia started typing away rapidly.

“Y/N doesn’t need a credit card. In the FTF agents usually have certain provisions set aside, you know if we need to suddenly disappear. Weapons, money, cell phones. They’re virtually untraceable. She could have gotten her hands on a fake passport pretty easily too, I just don’t know why she’d need to.” He filled Emily in while Garcia continued her research.

“Ok, Spencer has not used his credit card in weeks. His last purchase was for a worrying amount of scotch at a liquor store near his apartment. His cell phone is off, no surprise there it has been for a while, and it last pinged off a cell phone tower near his home. No activity on his passports either.” Garcia sounded downtrodden.

“What about his car? Has anyone seen it at his apartment? I can’t remember if it was there or not when I went.” Emily asked them both.

“I don’t remember.” Garcia agreed. “I think Jayje is going over there this weekend to check on him, I can ask her to look.”

“Thanks Garcia.” Emily spoke and then she sighed and was taking him off speaker and he heard footsteps. She didn’t speak until she was in her office with the door closed.

“Luke, I know you care about her but just take a second here.” She sounded mildly frustrated.

“What do you mean?” Luke frowned at the device in his hand.

“I know in our line of work it's hard not to jump to the worst possible conclusion but did you consider she just wanted to get away? You’re hearing hoofbeats and jumping to zebras.”

“No,” Luke was quick to counter. “She tells me everything. Something is wrong here, Emily. I know her. She wouldn’t do this.”

“The evidence is not pointing to anything suspicious, Alvez.” Emily exhaled loudly.

“Not suspicious?” He scoffed. “She lied about where she was going, she’s using a burner phone. She got down to Illinois without her car or the use of her passport. My gut is telling me something isn’t right, Emily.”

“I’m sorry but I need you home, we’re swamped as it is. I’ve given you leeway on this, but it’s time to come home.”

“Yeah, I know.” He agreed sadly. “I’ll catch a flight later today. I’m gonna keep trying to call her on the off chance I can get hold of her before I leave.”

“Good idea. Stay safe.” Emily agreed.

“Bye.” He disconnected the call, feeling thoroughly downtrodden.

Something really didn’t feel right in his gut. And Luke Alvez always trusted his gut. As the sinking feeling really started to set in, feeling like a gaping hole in the pit of his stomach, he stared at his cell phone and begged it to ring.

Tell me not to worry, Y/N, just call and tell me not to worry.

But of course the phone didn’t magically start ringing. This worry wasn’t helping anyone, it was only causing him to feel sick. But he wouldn’t stop until he’d gotten to the bottom of this.

This sinking feeling sets,

It feels just like a hole inside your chest.

I know you're thinking,

No, no, no, no, it is easier said than done.

But please let me attest,

I know it's hard.

You're feeling like you're trapped,

But that's how you react,

When you cannot see the light.

But try and see the light,

I'm tellin' you,

No, no, no, no.

You're the only one,

Standing in your way.

Just take a breath,

Relax, and tell me,

Why?

Please tell me why do we worry?

Why?

Why do we worry at all?

Why?

Just tell me, why do we worry?

When worry is never helping,

Tell me why, why worry at all?

Why do we insist,

On crossing bridges that do not exist?

Let's take these issues,

Step by step by step, to work it out.

Day by day by day we're falling down,

But life goes on.

I've got some questions,

Are you sick of feelin' sorry? (Uh huh)

And people sayin' not to worry? (Uh huh)

Sick of hearing this hakuna matata motto,

From people who won the lotto,

We're not that lucky.

Have you noticed that you're breathing? (Uh huh)

Look around and count your blessings (Uh huh).

So when you're sick of all this stressin' and guessin' I'm,

Suggestin' you turn this up and let them hear you sing it.

Why?

Please tell me why do we worry?

Why?

Why do we worry at all?

Why?

Just tell me, why do we worry?

When worry is never helping,

Tell me why, why worry at all?

Chin up, quit actin' like you're half dead,

Tears can only half tell how you're feelin',

Don't worry, be happy baby.

Stand up, life is too damn short,

That clock is ticking.

Man up, if ya feel me,

Everybody sing it,

Why?

Please tell me why do we worry?

Why?

Why do we worry at all?

Why?

Just tell me, why do we worry?

When worry is never helping,

Tell me why, why worry at all?

Why?

Please tell me why do we worry?

Why?

Why do we worry at all?

Why?

Just tell me, why do we worry?

When worry is never helping,

I'm not buying what they're selling.

So if worry is never helping,

Tell me why, why worry at all?

@andiebeaword @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom

#spencer reid #unsub! spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

93 notes · View notes

amphitriteswife · 7 months

Text

‘Kiss me, don’t leave me’

🔱x🦈

Disclaimer:reader is dark skinned and Amphy ofcourse. And my title got recommended to me by @miss-seanymph-pani

Genre: a pinch of Spice i think or maybe a pinch angst too?

Pairing: Poseidon x Amphitrite reader.

Setting: Academia Au

Tag list: @miss-seanymph-pani @monstertreden @tinyy-tea-cup @vilereign @nicasdreamer

Characters: Poseidon, Amphitrite Reader and some mentions of oceanus.

Language: English

Summary: You were sent to an elite school made for rich young adults. This was all thanks to your father overprotectiveness as he thought that sending you here would intervene with you marrying Poseidon. Unfortunately the man he wanted to protect you from had hust started his career as a teacher on this elite school

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

You were walking in the halls of the academia. Despite it being elite, it had many members. Most of them were royals or had parents who held a lot of power. The academia specialized in helping students with finding what kind of job they wanted, for example if they wanted to to a different thing from what they studied in high school. Yet no one payed attention to the lessons. Why? Because most of them would simply take over jobs from their parents. That’s why the school had hired a new teacher in hopes that the students would behave since the former teacher quit.

You were stopped in front of the door of the classroom you were supposed to be in 6 minutes ago. You internally debated since now that you were late you could just skip it anyway. But, the principal of the school was a family friend of your father, and he would surely snitch you. Besides you didn’t even have a good reason to be late…and you even went off campus…so that would surely get you into trouble with your father. You sighed and sipped on a coffee you bought of campus. You decided that you’ll rather take that detention than to see ‘Mr.snitch’. You opened the door and were greeted with a quiet class. That was weird, very weird. Everyone was always chaotic and did whatever they pleased, they got away with it soo since they just usually bribed the teacher. You looked a bit confused and wanted to ask, that was when a cold monotone voice asked ‘You look lost.’ A man with blonde hair and blue half lidded eyes asked you, he wore a dark blue velvet suit and it looked great on him…but you didn’t recognize him. His back was turned to the class as he wrote on the white board, from his accent you immediately knew he was Greek….That mean he was new since most teachers were Atlantean. And lucky for you, you were known to challenge the newbies. ‘I think you’re the lost one, Mr...?’ You looked him up and down. This was going to be a though one. But you’ll manage it. You were sure of it. ‘That’s professor for you, Miss Amphitrite.’ You smiled at him response. You were known to have charming yet unreadable smile with dimples, something you inherited from your father. Poseidon’s eyes were still focused on the board before he put the cap on the whiteboard marker before he turned to you, his eyes still cold and extended his hand. You looked at him with one raised eyebrow, confused by his gesture. ‘Your drink.’ Poseidon said, noticing your violations of the rules no one kept to. Just this time you decided to behave and hand over your drink. ‘Careful, that one was a wait time of 13 minutes’ You said to him as you walked past him to your seat. Poseidon ignored your remark and placed the drink on his desk. He gave you a look before he got back to his boring lecture.

Your eyes watched his moves. He was confident and well reserved. Which would make him harder to crack, but you were no loser. You knew the moment he confiscated your drink that you’ll break him even more. You paid no attention to his lecture and instead pulled out your phone and did whatever you wanted. You opened your group chat, it was filled with lots of other’s who each were in their own lecture at the moment. Some of them were chatting about how they actually skipped theirs, while others talked about meeting after school off campus. You were typing something about maybe going to the convenience store. That was until the phone was snatched out of your hands. You looked up to Poseidon reading the messages on your phone. He even went as far to scroll up. You leaned back in your seat and waited for him to speak, which bothered Poseidon. How could you still be so care free about all of this? It infuriated him. ‘You can say goodbye about going to the convenience store, as well as this phone.’ This raised your attention, he was confiscating your phone. Something that had never happend before. You laughed at him in response. ‘You think this is funny?’ Poseidon asked you. He put the phone in his pocket and placed his hands on your desk. His eyes were narrowed and it was clear he was holding his tongue…which only made you laugh more. In his eyes you were just a privileged brat who had no respect for others. Your phone proved his statement, it was the newest in the collection and the case had an expensive brand on it too. ‘Be careful with that, professor. It costs more than your life.’ You joked to him. Even now with your phone in his hands you were still not even showing the fraction of respect. Poseidon clenched his jaw. He wanted to break your phone if it meant you’d showed the least of respect..but he had to remain calm. ‘If you have a problem with the way i handle things, you know where the door is.’ Poseidon said. He was expecting you to behave now and not disrupt his class unfortunately for him you were known to never listen. So you rose from your seat and walked towards the door, you grabbed the door clink and turned to him ‘I’m back after class.’ And with that you left the class. Poseidon looked at the door with his usual cold eyes, yet he was stunned. His eyes not leaving the door. He turned back to the white board with gritted teeth.

✰ ✰ ✰

You returned to the classroom after school had ended, you stepped into the classroom and was greeted with Poseidon sitting on by his desk. ‘After class, you said. You missed the next 4 periods you were supposed to follow.’ Poseidon said pinching the bridge of his nose. You acknowledged what he said, but you didn’t care for it at all. He noticed this which just infuriated him even more. How could you be so foolish?! He was at his limit with you and he has only been teaching you for one day, hell one period since you missed the rest. ‘You care for an Americano?’ You asked him holding the drink extended to him. ‘What did you put in it?’ Poseidon asked you suspiciously. He did not trust you at all. ‘Nothing, if you open the lid its a real pain to put it back on, so even if i wanted to, i can’t.’ You told him as you put the drink on his desk, you got him a Americano yes, but that didn’t explain why you missed 4 periods. ‘What were you doing off campus.’ Poseidon asked you as he signaled you so sit down in the front row, which you of course refused to do and instead sat on his desk. ‘I got my nails done and grabbed a drink…then i saw a store with some expensive clothes so of course i had to buy that-’ Poseidon interrupted you with a sigh. ‘Young lady, you do not miss 4 periods, especially without a good reason.’ Poseidon told you as he stood up. He stood in front of you, his hands on either side of the desk with you in the middle. He was kind of invading your personal space but you let it slide. ‘What do i have to do to make you behave respectful and not as an entitled brat.’ Poseidon spat at you, he was angry, very angry. But anger doesn’t get far with you, you laughed at him in response and tugged his tie which made him come even closer to you. ‘What are you willing to do?..’ You asked him, the same charming smile, your dark skin close to his pale skin, your eyes were seductive yet mysterious. Everything about you was so…beautiful and perfect. His breath was caught in his throat as he stared at you, you noticed the way he looked at you, he wants you. He was falling for your bait. You smiled and got even closer to him. He wanted to kiss you so bad, but he can’t. You’re a brat and you don’t deserve it…is what he thought. Yet he couldn’t help but feel the opposite. You gave him a smile before your hands reached for your button up shirt. Poseidon saw this and choked on air ‘D-don’t-’ He was a but too late as you had already unbuttoned the button. Your dark skinned breast were heard to miss. His eyes drifted even lower which made him let out a raspy and shocked grunt. He could see the darker skin of your nipples. He can’t take his eyes of it. It was so beautiful, so perfect. His mouth went dry as he felt you press your breast push on his chest. You were being too seductive, it was getting too much to bear. Way too much. His mouth was dry as he looked down at your breast.

‘My eyes are up here.’ You teased him. Poseidon tore his eyes off your cleavage and looked you in the eyes. He took a step back and turned his head to the side before he cleared his throat. ‘I think you should leave…’ he said, not daring to look at you. You got off of his desk and gave him a kiss on the cheek, this made his eyes widen even more as he refused to be anywhere near you. You only laughed at him which made him frown but he didn’t say anything. You walked to the door and spoke. ‘You should wear corsets, they will make your tiny waist even more visible.’ You winked back at him before heading out the door. Leaving a frozen and embarrassed Poseidon in his class room.

~Time skip~

Poseidon had his back to the students, the class was a little loud but he didn’t seem to mind, his mind was somewhere else…that was until the door to his classroom cracked again. He stopped writing and turned his head to the door, a little irritated to see who interrupted his lesson. Upon seeing you in the door way he let out a sigh of frustration. ‘Young lady, we talked about this. Now Go to your seat.’ Poseidon said as he turned back to the board. The class seemed to regain it’s chaotic nature as you sat down. Nobody paid attention to the things poseidon wrote on the board. Many of the students tried to mess with him, that included making comments on his appearance. Yet none of them got to him. Poseidon paid no attention to them and remained with his back to the class. ‘You have a nice waist.’ Poseidon froze upon hearing the comment Poseidon thought back to the little commotion the two of you had. He didn’t know why, but that comment pissed him off. He didn’t care who it was, he was way too angry to care anyway. ‘Get out.’ Poseidon said sternly to you. This confused you. You hadn’t said one word to him at all. ‘That wasn’t m- I. Said. Get. Out.’ You were interrupted by his stern voice. This was ridiculous. You hadn’t done anything besides being late. But it was better than going to the principals office, thats for sure…so for once you actually listened to him. When you rose from your seat and walked to the door poseidon spoke up again. ‘After class i expect you to be here. And not a moment later.’ Poseidon said, referring to yesterday when you were 4 periods later. You smiled at him again and grabbed the doorknob, twisting it and stepping out but just before that…there was a little smirk plastered onto his face. You narrowed your eyes but still stepped outside the classroom, choosing to ignore it for now.

After class you were standing outside the classroom, the halls were filled with students who were going to their dorm or hanging off campus, some of them even greeted you and gave you their best wishes since you had to he alone with Poseidon in his classroom. After everyone in your class had left you stepped into the classroom. Poseidon was sitting by his desk. His eyes locked onto yours. You waled closer to him and leaned against his desk. ‘So…what do you want?’ You asked him, slightly smirking at him. Poseidon stood up from his desk and and trapped you in between his arms, both of them by each of your sides. His face quite close to yours. his eyes half lidded and lips slightly parted. There was a certain look in his eyes as he stared at your big glossy lips for a few moments. ‘You gonna apologize or what?’ You asked him as you stared into his eyes. He scoffed, though his smirk remained. ‘Apologize for what?’ He asked you, still invading your personal space. Poseidon softly brushed his lips against yours. He closed his eyes, his hands grazing the wood of the desk until they reached your hips. Poseidon pressed his forehead against yours his lips parting even more before he spoke in a barely audible whisper. ‘I’m failing you and getting you expelled…only then could you become fully mine.’ His hands had reached your back by the time he was done speaking. His lips were millimeters away from yours. You could feel his breath on your face. He was totally crazy about you. And this made you smirk. You gently pushed him to let him sit in his seat. Poseidon still held onto your hips and looked up at you, his eyes filled with different emotions all at once. His breathing got heavy as you leaned into him. What was he feeling? Love? Passion? Desire? Anticipation? He couldn’t pin point it but he didn’t mind. His mind was way too focused on you and your lips. You leaned in even more while Poseidon brought one hand to your cheek. He looked at you as if you were his only purpose in life, as if you were the reason why he even put up with this school at all. He couldn’t help but desire you in a way he never felt towards anyone. Not even past lovers…His lips got closer to you, way closer than before….And thats when you pulled away. His eyes snapped open, his eyes held a confused expression, perhaps even a pained one. He was so stunned that he couldn’t say anything for a few moments. He watched you as you pulled back with a smirk and walked towards the door. You were smirking as if you had won. ‘Kiss me, don’t leave me…’ Poseidon said in a soft voice. His eyes never leaving your figure who now stood at the door way. ‘A kiss from me will costs you a lot.’ You replies with a flirty voice. Poseidon’s parted lips closed and he clenched his jaw. ‘Fine…you win’ Poseidon said, yet his voice didn’t sound angry at all…it was more in a lovable way. He watched you walk out of his classroom in silence with only the fast beating of his heart being audible. He didn’t care that you pushed him away. Because he the moment you decided you pulled away him was the moment he knew he would be yours instead…

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #snv poseidon #ror poseidon #snv amphitrite #ror amphitrite #amphitrite #poseidon #snv #ror #ror poseidon x reader #snv poseidon x reader #poseidon🌊🔱

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funnylittlelad · 2 years

Text

Rules Made To Be Broken - Steve Harrington x gn!reader

Thank you for (over) 200 followers!!

Masterlist - AO3

Rule One >>

summary: As you and Steve grow closer, things seem to be going perfectly. That is until your police chief father steps in. The more you lie the deeper a hole you dig, but what else can you do? No matter what your dad says, you're not staying away from Steve Harrington.

wordcount: 12k

notes/tags: Hopper!reader, secret dating, sneaking around, fluff, friends to lovers, almost teenage car shenanigans, events of season three do not take place (canon divergent), Hopper is a bit of an overprotective helicopter parent, mentions of/talks about: abusive parents, tumultuous relationships, divorce, death, and family trauma., Steve's dad is his own warning, We Love Callahan In This House.

Prologue: Accidents Happen

It happens by accident. At least, that's what you tell yourself. You’d had the odd relationship here and there, but it’s never been serious. It's never been allowed to be serious. Your dad made sure of that. He scared anyone off before they got too comfortable. Usually, you're fine with that. It saves you a lot of trouble in the long run. You like that you don't have to commit. That's why Steve Harrington coming out of nowhere scares the living shit out of you.

Over the past year, you’d gotten closer to him. Not a lot, but enough for him to get a foothold. Then he started working at the ice cream shop next to your job at the mall arcade. You’d pop in every so often to say hi to Robin. She was one of the few friends your dad approved of. He never stopped you from being friends with people, but there would always be a telltale hmph. After a few weeks, you started visiting more, only it wasn't for Robin. It was for Steve Harrington and his little sailor shorts.

“You’re gonna get me fired with all these free samples,” Steve pretends to complain with crossed arms.

You finish polishing off the most recent little spoon with a smile.

“You’re the one that keeps giving them to me, Mr. One-Per-Customer,” you tease.

“Don't you have snot to clean off of some video game?” he jabs, leaning forward on the counter.

“I got off and you seemed like you needed company,” you shrug.

“Well, I get off in fifteen. What d’you say to keeping me company through a movie?” Steve asks in a rare show of bashfulness, picking at an invisible spot on the counter.

You grow a dazzling grin.

“I say that sounds fun.”

It was fun. Until Steve drove you home. Your driveway is lit only by the last reaches of sunlight, an orange fading to purple over the trees. On the front porch, leaning with his forearms against the railing, and a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth is your dad. He watches Steve’s car with narrowed eyes, taking a slow drag. The half-unbuttoned uniform tells you he just got off duty.

“Should I say hi?” Steve asks unsure.

“No,” you sigh, “We’re about to fight.”

Steve looks at you startled.

“What?”

“Jonathan isn't home, which means I was supposed to come back right after work to watch Will and El. Except Will and El don't need a babysitter, but I need a life. So, we’re about to fight,” you explain like it's a simple equation.

“Right, I forgot Hopper and Joyce shacked up,” Steve nods.

“Don't talk about my dad shacking up,” you scrunch your face in disgust.

“Sorry,” Steve laughs and stretches an arm over the back of your seat around the headrest, “When can I see you again?”

A spiced apple scent surrounds you, rolling off of him. A smell that's Steve’s and Steve’s alone.

“You see me almost every time you work,” you point out with a light blush.

“I know, but I mean like this,” he gestures between you with his free hand.

The smile that crawls onto your face is impossible to fight off. You glance back at your dad. He’s stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray on the railing. Then he pulls out the pack of Camels that's always in his breast pocket and takes out another. His eyes stay glued on Steve as he lights it, settling back into his position on the railing to make it clear he isn't going anywhere.

“I’m free tomorrow after four,” you look back at Steve who is still watching you.

Your heart races under his scrutiny.

“Pick you up at four-thirty?” He raises his eyebrows hopefully.

“See you then.”

You slip out of Steve’s beemer with one last smile. Your back stays to your father as you gently wave at Steve while he pulls out. Once he’s driving away you sigh. There’s no more putting this off. You turn around slowly to find your dad standing upright with his arms crossed. The newest cigarette hangs from the side of his mouth.

“You’re late,” he states.

“And the house is still standing,” you gesture behind him.

“Why was Harrington bringing you home?” he questions, jerking his chin toward the now-empty space in the driveway.

“Because we’re friends and we hung out after work,” you shrug.

“Friends, huh?”

“Yes, dad, friends. Y’know, those things I have every now and then until you scare them off,” you cross your own arms.

“That's all you are?” he checks suspiciously.

“Yes, that's all we are,” you confirm.

“Alright,” he nods in understanding, “You’re grounded.”

“What? You can't ground me! I’m nineteen years old!” You argue.

“My roof,” he shoots back.

“This is bullshit,” you scoff.

Your dad’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks around like there are people around to witness your audacity.

“You were supposed to come home after work. What if something happened?” He reminds you sternly.

Your arms flail angrily in the air toward the house.

“Nothing happened! Will and El are fourteen; they don't need me to watch them!”

“You’re grounded for a week,” he deadpans.

You let out a humorless laugh. Frustration bubbles in your chest until you can feel it pressing against your eyes. You hold the tears in. They’ll do you no good here.

“Dad, you have to accept that I’m not a child at some point,” you snap.

“Good to know,” he drawls, “Check back at the end of the week and see where I’m at.”

“You're ridiculous,” you grumble as you storm past him, slamming the front door behind you.

Will and El sit wide-eyed on the couch totally not listening. You ignore them as you storm down the hall to the room you share with Jonathan, slamming that door too. With a groan, you flop face-first on your bed and let out a half scream into your pillow. There’s a soft knock on the door.

“What,” you call out, face still in the pillow so your voice is muffled.

The door creaks, just like all the doors in this house.

“Are you okay?” El’s voice asks from the doorway.

You sigh and turn your head to look at her. The grown-out hair looks good on her. The confidence it brings her looks even better. El has been your sister since the moment you met her, no question about it. Even if it hurts like hell to look at her sometimes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry I wasn't home,” you answer softly.

“It is okay. Will has been helping me get ready for school,” she says.

You smile and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“You excited to start?”

She shrugs with a small smile.

“Nervous,” she decides.

You nod.

“That's normal. Don’t worry. You’ll have Will with you and I’ll be here when you get home,” you promise.

She nods, shoulders relaxing.

“Is dad upset?”

“Yeah, he is,” you sigh.

“Joyce will fix it,” she assures you.

“You’re probably right,” you agree.

Joyce likely will fix it. She seems to be the only person who can really get through to your dad. It's something you're endlessly grateful for. You love your new family members. You really do. You just wish there was more room. You wish you had your own space. You wish there wasn't a battle every day for the shower before all the hot water is gone. You wish the food containers were always full and never put back empty, always causing a fight.

“I miss the cabin too,” El admits quietly as if she read your mind.

A small, sad smile crawls onto your lips.

“Dad and Joyce have been trying to find somewhere bigger. We won't be so cramped soon,” you tell her, mostly trying to convince yourself.

“Good,” she nods.

Later that night Joyce does indeed fix everything. At the very least, she got you ungrounded. She manages to make your dad realize that grounding you is not only a little extreme but a bit childish. He even begrudgingly agrees to Will and El being home without supervision more. Not a lot more, but more nonetheless.

The next day Steve picks you up at four-thirty sharp. Your skin buzzes as you slide into his car. He’s smiling before you even get in. It's lovely, like a sunset over a meadow. Soft, light, and calming. You end up getting milkshakes and sitting on the hood of his car in the back parking lot of the diner. It's a nice evening, warm and breezy. Golden hour transforms Steve into something otherworldly. Every blond highlight becomes so much more, his skin looks like it's glowing, and his eyes are sweet glimmering butterscotch candies on you.

“I hope I didn't get you in too much trouble last night,” he says with a smirk.

“You didn't. I'm pretty sure he likes you anyways. Y’know, after you helped save the world and his kid. He was mad at me, but I think he’s over it,” you answer.

“It must’ve been hard having the police chief as your dad growing up,” Steve comments thoughtfully.

“It was,” you smile wryly, “It didn't get me invited to any parties, that's for sure.”

Steve cringes as red blooms across his cheeks. He sips on his milkshake, avoiding your amused eyes. The two of you weren't friends in school by a long shot. When he finds them again, his own are far more apologetic than they need to be.

“I’m sorry if I was a jerk to you at all.”

Your wry smile turns soft and genuine.

“You weren't, but you're right. My dad’s job definitely didn't make me popular. Everyone assumed I was a narc. Even the people on the track team with me.”

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles, “I remember that being said.”

“Can I ask you a dumb question without you laughing at how dumb it is?” You nudge his sneaker with your own.

He puts on a serious face and gives you a dutiful nod.

“Ask away.”

“Is this a date?”

Steve immediately starts to laugh. You hit him in the chest.

“You said you wouldn't laugh,” you whine.

“I said I wouldn't laugh at how dumb it is. I’m laughing at how cute it is,” he informs you with a smile.

You can feel the flames lick across your skin as his words heat you up. You take a sip of your own chocolate milkshake to cool down.

“So, what’s the verdict, Harrington?” You cut right to the chase.

Steve chuckles some more.

“I’m really seeing the Hopper genes,” he teases.

“Shut up.”

“No, no, really, I do. I can see them riiight,” Steve reaches across and brushes his cold thumb over your lips, “here.”

His hand cradles your jaw as his thumb continues brushing the cool soft skin of your lips. His fingers are so icy from holding his milkshake that you shiver.

“You stare at my dad’s mouth a lot?” You breathe teasingly.

Both of you regard each other with hooded eyelids.

“He smokes a lot of cigarettes,” Steve shrugs, “It draws the eye.”

You’re in the middle of laughing when his lips capture yours. The kiss is sweet, tender, and chaste. Steve’s hand slides to tangle his thick fingers in your hair. He puts his milkshake down next to him to free his other hand. His newly liberated hand cups your jaw as he deepens the kiss. Your heart races in your stomach as you get a taste of Steve Harrington on the hood of his beemer. When you pull back you're both breathing heavier than before. Wide smiles spread across both of your flushed faces.

“So, is it a date or not?” You jokingly ask with furrowed brows.

Steve laughs and you can't help but laugh along. It feels good to laugh with Steve. It feels right. Your laughs mingle like they were always meant to be heard together. When you finish your milkshakes Steve brings you home. Once again, your dad is on the porch smoking. No doubt he’s waiting to see if you abide by your promise to be home before dinner.

“Is it just me or is he trying to melt me with his eyes?” Steve smiles and waves at your dad through the windshield as he asks.

Your dad gives him a nod of acknowledgment. You roll your eyes at your dad’s standoffishness.

“Don't take it personally, he does it to everyone.”

“Noted.”

“I had a lot of fun with you today,” you smile.

Steve grins at you, so tempted to kiss you but conscious of your father’s eyes on him.

“Me too. Y’know- uh- Robin and I do these movie nights every week. Would you maybe wanna crash the next one? I know she wouldn't mind and I wouldn't mind spending more time with you,” Steve’s hand subtly moves to brush your thigh under the cover of the dashboard.

“You’re positive Robin won't mind me being there?”

“Absolutely.”

You find yourself smiling and nodding before putting much more thought into it. All your little pleasure-seeking rat brain heard was more time with Steve.

“Then I’d love to.”

“Great, I’ll give you a call tomorrow with the details.”

“Lookin’ forward to it,” You say, wishing you could kiss him.

Then you slide out of the car. Steve doesn't pull out until you hit the two porch stairs. Your dad watches him leave before turning to you.

“You and Harrington normally hang out alone?” He asks.

“What's the big deal?”

“Just didn't realize you two were that close.”

“Yeah, well, fighting otherworldly creatures of the night with someone tends to strengthen a friendship,” you drawl sarcastically.

“Isn't he friends with your friend with the tuba?”

“I know you know who Robin is and what instrument she plays,” you roll your eyes playfully, “and yes he is.”

“What about them, there something going on there?”

“No,” you snort, “definitely not. Why are you so interested in Steve’s dating life?”

“I’m your father. I’m just looking out for you. I've caught Harrington in the back of that beemer enough times to know what his dating life is like,” he explains gruffly and takes a drag of his cigarette.

The thought of your dad tapping on the steamed-up window of Steve’s car with the butt of his flashlight puts a bad taste in your mouth. It makes you miss the sweet taste of Steve.

“You don't think it's possible for people to change?” you question, trying not to sound too defensive.

Your dad huffs a laugh and puts out his cigarette.

“Guys like him don't change, trust me,” he tells you.

Anger starts to prick at your skin. You can't fight him, though. It wouldn't change his mind anyways.

“Well, I’m going to his house for a movie night with Robin this week,” you inform him.

He seems to physically relax when he hears Robin will be with you. It fills you with a strange sense of dread. You thought your dad liked Steve. You didn't think he’d have an issue with Steve or his dating life. Anxiety starts to creep in. What if your dad chases Steve away? For once, you care if the person you're seeing is scared off.

“Look,” your dad rubs his jaw as he collects his thoughts, “Steve is a decent guy. I know he’s good looking and I’m sure there are rumors about- about- his virility-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you cut him off sharply, “What’s the point you're even trying to make?”

“Just stay away from him like that. It's fine you're friends, but keep it there. You’ll only end up hurt,” he tells you.

Well, that certainly isn't what you expected. A dense ball of anger, sadness, hurt, and defensiveness sits in your gut. If you don't get away soon you’re sure you’ll blow one way or another.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll stay away from Steve,” you lie.

There's no chance in Hell.

Robin’s eyes are wide as saucers as you tell her about your dad’s Anti-Steve sentiments. You lay across her bed as she sways herself to and fro on her desk chair. Her room is as scattered and cluttered as her mind is, but that’s what you love about it. It’s like living in one of Robin’s thoughts. “He seriously told you to stay away from him?” She questions incredulously.

“Sure did. God, he’s so dramatic. I don't get why he's so against it. I mean, sure Steve has been known to… get around, but that was high school. He hasn't even been able to score a date in like a year,” you vent.

“What are you going to do?” Robin's eyebrows knit.

She was admittedly ecstatic when Steve told her he wanted to ask you out. She was even more ecstatic when you told her you may have a tiny crush on Steve. You swore up and down it was the sailor shorts that did it, but you both know better. It's clear when you and Steve are around each other. You gravitate toward one another without thought, slowly growing closer and talking more until it's like you're the only two in existence.

“I’m not going to stop seeing Steve,” you shake your head, “I mean we've only been on one date and he hasn't even asked me on a second one yet-”

“Nope, don't even go there,” Robin cuts you off.

“What? I’m just saying-”

“You’re about to convince yourself that Steve doesn't really like you. I’m not letting it happen.”

You pout dramatically at her. There's no time to try to argue or push back playfully. Steve honks from the driveway three times to signal his arrival. A grin spreads across your face as you shoot up and start heading down. Robin shakes her head as she breathes a laugh.

Steve is standing with his arm propped on the top of the open driver-side door. He smiles wide at you as you emerge from the house. You stroll right up to him allowing the door to act as a physical barrier. Before you can say anything, Steve ducks down and plants a quick kiss on your lips. You’re suddenly boiling. He smiles sweetly when he pulls away.

“Hey, there,” he murmurs.

“Hey,” you murmur back.

“Okay, if this is how it's going to be all night, I change my mind,” Robin complains from behind you.

You poke your tongue out at her teasingly causing her to chuckle. Instinctively, you start going for the backseat because Robin is here. The moment you start in that direction you’re stopped.

“Ah-Ah-Ah- Since you and Steve are officially sucking face now it only seems right you take shotgun,” Robin puts her hands up to insist.

The smile that starts to spread on your face dies.

“Thanks, Rob, but I probably shouldn't. My dad is on duty today and if he sees that I’m suddenly the one sitting in the front…,” you trail off with a sigh.

“What's the big deal if he sees you sitting in the front?” Steve asks with furrowed brows.

You glance at Steve anxiously and then at Robin. Both of you look back at Steve.

“My dad may be against the idea of us dating and he might have told me to stay away from you in any romantic sense,” you tell him.

Steve frowns with searching eyes. He reminds you of a cartoon puppy.

“I thought he liked me,” he says.

“He does! He just…,” you start, but struggle.

“He thinks you're a whore,” Robin chimes in.

“Robin,” you hiss and shoot her a glare.

She mouths a sheepish sorry. You sigh and look at Steve’s hurt expression once more.

“He just doesn't want me to get hurt. It doesn't change anything. All this means is we have to keep it down low until we can change his mind,” you assure him.

He nods but doesn't look convinced.

“Guess that means a sleepover tonight is off the table?” he checks half hopeful.

“My curfew is graciously at eleven,” you smile sadly.

“Curfew? You’re an adult,” Robin scoffs.

“An adult who doesn't have a key for the new house yet. My dad said if I’m not home by then the door will be locked.”

“What's the big deal if the door is locked if you have somewhere to stay?” Robin pushes.

“Look- I don't have an explanation for everything, okay? I know my dad is really strict and it’s kind of pathetic because I’m too old for it. It’s more complicated than it looks. If that's something you don't want to deal with o-or-” you start a slightly panicked ramble.

“Whoa- no one is saying that,” Steve reaches out and places warm hands on your upper arms.

The contact grounds you. You nod, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I upset you. My mouth gets ahead of my brain sometimes and I-” Robin starts an anxious apology.

“It’s okay, Rob. I know,” you offer a small smile.

You all clamber into Steve’s car after that. You place yourself in the middle of the backseat. Steve’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror every few minutes. Each time you felt the corners of your lips twitch and your cheeks warm. Something about Steve makes you feel like you're in middle school again trying to figure out how to act around the person you like-like.

In the end, you're glad you chose the back. Around half way to Steve’s house, you see the truck. Your dad is camped out on a pull-off, normal for a cop scouting for speeding tickets. Not normal for the Hawkins Police Chief, though. You groan when you realize he planted himself where he knew Steve would likely drive by. His eyes scan the car as Steve drives by. Steve very pointedly drives the speed limit. You avoid his eyes entirely.

“You said your curfew is at eleven?” Steve double-checks, meeting your eyes once more in the mirror.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a nod.

“Got it,” he nods resolutely.

It's safe to say he’s determined to get you home on time after the look Hopper just gave him. Steve kind of wishes he didn't look over in the first place. The moment he noticed the chief’s truck he should have kept his eyes forward like he didn't see a thing. Likely the worst part about the whole thing is how blatant it was. Hopper wanted Steve to know that he was watching, to be careful, and tread lightly. It’s a message he heard loud and clear. Steve won’t give Hopper any more reasons not to like him.

They make it to Steve’s without incident. Hopper thankfully doesn't follow them, but Steve makes sure to abide by every traffic law anyways. He wouldn't doubt Hopper has eyes everywhere. Plus, he’s seen the man in action and he'd like to not be on the other end of that.

“Steve,” Robin groans when she sees the VHS on his coffee table, “Why did you have to pick that one?”

“What? I like that movie,” he defends, face beginning to glow.

Your own face catches fire when you read the cover. A couple of months ago you and Steve had a break at the same time. You spent the entire thirty minutes at a food court table talking about movies. At some point you let it slip that your favorite has recently become The NeverEnding Story. The very film that sits on the coffee table now. You send Steve a shy smile that he catches.

“Fine, it’s your week to pick,” Robin sighs with a dramatic eye roll.

It doesn't surprise anyone but you when Steve takes your hand to lead you to the end of his plush couch. He sits and pulls you down with him so his arm is automatically over your shoulder. Robin shakes her head playfully with a smirk. She sits on the other end of the couch so she can stretch out like a cat. Her feet and yours barely miss each other as you curl into Steve.

A quarter of the way through Robin is knocked out cold. The way her arms flop over her face makes you chuckle. Steve breathes a laugh and shakes his head at her.

“She's unbelievable. She does this every week,” he tries to sound exasperated but fails.

“Sounds pretty believable if it happens every week,” you say.

“At least now that you’re going to be here I won't be left to finish the movies alone,” he comments somewhat absentmindedly.

Your eyes widen.

“Now that I’m going to be here?” You echo.

Steve’s bright brown eyes quickly move away. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Yeah,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “Y’know, if- if you'd want to. We could make this a regular thing.”

Your face breaks into a large toothy grin. Steve’s face starts to mirror yours as he registers your reaction.

“That sounds like fun. As long as you’re sure my dad hasn't spooked you,” you joke half-heartedly.

“You kidding? After I took a bat to a Demogorgon right in front of you, you don't think I can handle your dad being a little protective?” Steve scoffs playfully.

“A little?” You question with a smirk.

“Okay, a lot protective,” He concedes with a dramatic little shake of his head.

You watch the front of his soft-looking hair bounce with the movement. It strikes you how pretty he is in the dull glow of the television. You find it a little unfair how pretty he is in every setting. As nerves settle in you look back to the television.

“Are you sure you don't mind?” You ask more seriously, “I know it’s a lot to deal with. I get it if you'd rather just stay friends.”

Steve brings his hand up. His finger crooks and finds the underneath of your chin. He uses it to guide your face to look at him. When your wide eyes meet his intense ones he doesn't stop guiding you. He meets you halfway, stealing a sweet gentle kiss. Butterflies flutter around your gut as his tender lips move against yours. It’s over far too soon, but he keeps his forehead on yours.

“I like you too much to just stay friends. I’m okay doing whatever it takes to be with you,” he states firmly like it's a fact.

Another smile crawls onto your face.

“I’m really glad you said that because I like you too much to just stay friends too,” you tell him softly.

He grins as his hooded eyes look into yours. This close in the dark they look so deep, his pupil and irises still fully distinguishable but the color is clearly rich. Rich in a way that gets lost in the low lighting.

“When can I take you out again?” he asks quietly.

“We probably can't do anything romantic too publicly, but it wouldn't be too hard for me to sneak out at night,” you say innocently.

“Won't your dad kill you if he finds out?” Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

From this close, you only know that because you can feel him do it.

“Well- yeah, but I have the benefit of something you, unfortunately, don't, my dear Steve,” you tease.

“And what’s that?”

“Siblings.”

“How does that help?”

You chuckle.

“They’ll cover for me if I need it in a pinch,” you explain.

Steve’s smile returns.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” he asks, trying to make it sound enough like a joke to pass it off as one if need be.

He’s terrified of coming on too strong. It’s just that when Steve likes someone he does it with his whole chest. He loves emphatically and that's not for everyone. Although, no one is talking about love right now. Definitely not, that would be far too soon. Steve fancies himself a pretty intuitive guy, though. He can feel the potential there. A seed in need of watering and tending until it blooms into something beautiful.

“Tomorrow’s not soon enough,” you answer, “but it’ll have to do.”

You wake Robin up when the credits roll on the screen. She’s a little moody about it but gets over it quickly. It’s half past ten so Steve brings Robin home first. With her out of the car you move to the front. The entire way back to your house Steve’s hand rests on your thigh, heavy and warm. When the house comes into view it slinks away leaving your skin to miss it.

It doesn't surprise you in the slightest to see your dad on the porch smoking. You roll your eyes at the sight, not caring if he can see. The clock in Steve's car reads a quarter to eleven. Steve got you home with fifteen minutes to spare.

“Is ten too late for tomorrow?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy.

What if he wasn't being serious about tomorrow? The insecurity gets you talking again.

“My dad has night duty, but he’ll think I’m in bed so there's no reason for him to leave the station,” you explain quickly.

Steve is nodding before you finish.

“Ten sounds perfect. Should I park down the street?”

“Yeah, near the end by the sign,” you confirm.

“It’s a date,” he grins.

Your face catches fire for the millionth time tonight. You're grateful it's too dark for your dad to tell from the porch.

“Have a good night,” you tell him softly.

You resist the urge to kiss him. You resist the urge to even just hug him knowing you have an audience.

“Have a good night.”

When you slip from the beemer a sigh escapes your lips. You wish your dad wasn't so… Well, your dad. The thing is, you also know him. It’s hard and takes time, but you can change his mind. Maybe you can even recruit Joyce in the effort, speed up the process. You'll have to ask Jonathan and Will if they think she’d help or just tell your dad about you and Steve.

“You have a good night?” Your dad asks as he puts out his cigarette.

“Yeah, it was fun. Actually, they invited me to do it every week,” you answer happily.

He nods as you two head inside.

“And Harrington will be driving you every week?” He asks.

“Yes, unless you’re going to magically pull a car from somewhere,” you answer.

He shoots you a deadpan look.

“Alright. Don't forget, I have night duty tomorrow,” he reminds you.

“I know, dad. Don't worry, I plan on coming home right after work anyways. I don't have anything to do tomorrow,” you tell him.

You ignore the tiny seed of guilt that drops in your stomach. You don't like lying to your dad, but he doesn't leave you much choice. A sturdy hand finds the back of your head. He pulls your head forward and plants a slightly too-rough kiss on your forehead. It's gruff, prickly, and warm just like him. For a second you feel like a kid again, before everything went to shit.

“Sleep tight,” he tells you.

“Sleep tight,” you smile tightly.

Jonathan is awake reading and listening to music on his walkman. The movement of you coming in draws his attention. He pulls down his headphones until they rest around his neck. Slow rock leaks from the speakers.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hey, I’m glad you're up. I actually have a pretty big favor to ask,” you say.

He regards you suspiciously. The two of you aren't close by any means. It took weeks to have a civil conversation when you're in the bedroom together. There was a territorial showdown that nearly tore the house apart.

“What is it?” He questions slowly.

“I’m going to sneak out tomorrow night after my dad goes to work. I just need you to leave the window cracked so I can get back in and to make sure no one knows I’m gone,” you say.

“Oh, is that all?” He scoffs, “No way. I’m not getting murdered when your dad finds out you snuck out.”

“He won't find out. Please, Jonathan, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't really important to me,” you all but beg.

His eyes narrow on you as you sit on your bed.

“What are you sneaking out for?”

“I’m seeing Steve.”

He snorts humorlessly.

“So, you want to die,” he says mostly to himself.

Realizing this isn't going your way, you set your jaw and straighten out your shoulders. You sigh and click your tongue.

“Y’know, it's a shame…,” you begin absently.

“What is?” He takes the bait.

“How long you're going to be grounded when I tell my dad and Joyce about the stash under your bed,” you shrug.

If looks could kill, you’d most definitely be dead.

“How do you-”

“You’re really not as subtle as you think,” you laugh.

He exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Fine,” he snaps.

The headphones are back over his ears in a second.

“Thank you,” you sing.

That night you curl into bed buzzing with anticipation. Steve doesn't care if it's a little hard to be with you. He doesn't care if your dad is difficult and overprotective. He likes you enough to try anyway. You only hope you can change your dad’s mind about him before his patience runs out.

Jonathan is bitter about you sneaking out, but you don't care. Everyone is home for dinner, making it a raucous affair of arms reaching over the table to fight for food even though there's more than enough to go around. You swear Jonathan starts fighting with you over the last drumstick just to get back at you for your blackmail.

“You’ve already had three,” he protests.

“So have you!” you shout back incredulously, gesturing wildly.

“Yeah, but I eat more.”

“Really? Why is that?” You challenge him cruelly.

He glares at you, seething from across the table.

“You’re such a-” he starts.

“Alright,” your dad loudly interrupts and snatches the drumstick off the plate, “Now it’s mine. Problem solved.”

Both of you grumble and sink back into your seats like a couple of children. Will and El, the actual children at the table, exchange amused looks as they fight off laughter.

“How has work been?” Joyce asks you pleasantly.

She’s completely unphased by your dad’s tantrum in response to your own. You suppose she's probably used to the Hopper family antics at this point.

“It’s been fine,” you shrug, “there's a supervisor position opening up. I was thinking of going for it.”

“That’s great!” Joyce beams.

It makes you feel warm in your chest.

“Supervisor? Won't that put you full-time? What about college? I thought you were starting next semester,” your dad grills.

It’s a struggle not to roll your eyes, but you succeed.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of extending my gap year,” you shrug like it isn't a big deal.

Joyce cringes a little but attempts to maintain her smile. Jonathan, Will, and El all look between you and your dad.

“Really? When did you decide that?” Your dad questions.

“Does it really matter? It’s what I want to do,” you defend.

“Is this because Steve isn't going to college?” He’s outright interrogating you at the dinner table now.

“Jim,” Joyce warns softly.

He looks at her with an incredulous smile.

“What?”

She tucks her chin in a tad and gives him a look.

“For your information, no it's not because of Steve,” you snap, “I don't even know his plans for the fall. What’s your issue with him?”

“Nothing!”

“No, clearly there's something! You have such a weird thing about me and Steve. Why are you so afraid of me being friends or getting into a relationship with him?” You demand.

“Because I've seen what it looks like when a Harrington loves someone,” he shouts, “It’s usually black and blue!”

Anger rises hot and red to your cheeks. Your heart pounds in your chest. The air around the table is so tense it's hard to move.

“You’re unbelievable,” you shout back and shove away from the table.

“Where are you going?” he calls after you.

“To bed. Have a good night at work,” you slam your bedroom door shut behind you.

“Jim,” Joyce sighs.

“What?” He asks defensively.

“Steve really isn't that bad,” Will comments gently, “He’s friends with Dustin.”

“I think Steve is a fine guy,” Hopper states, “But I've seen the kind of relationships he grew up around.”

“That doesn't mean Steve is anything like John,” Joyce reasons.

Hopper’s jaw flexes as he clenches.

“Yeah, well, I’m not willing to take the chance,” he answers gruffly.

Jonathan is the one that gets the conversation moving forward. They try to enjoy the rest of their dinner while Hopper seeths and you blast music from your bedroom. Thirty minutes later Jonathan comes in and shuts off your stereo.

“Hopper and mom went to work,” he informs you.

“Thanks,” you sigh.

You can feel Jonathan’s eyes on you as you collect your things.

“What?” you ask shortly, not stopping.

“Nothing,” he quickly snaps before relaxing a little, “Mom tried talking to him after.”

“Yeah?” You snort humorlessly, “What’d she say?”

“She was on your side. Told him you don't have to go to college if you don't want to.”

You reply with a simple hm.

“When will you be back?” he sighs.

“Around midnight.”

“Okay- just… be safe.”

You turn with everything you need in your pockets. Your eyebrows are nearly in your hairline as you take in Jonathan. He sits on his bed, hands in his lap. His hair has gotten long and shaggy in a way that makes you want to cut it.

“Careful, I might think you care about me,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes.

“You might be annoying, but you’re family,” he says.

A small smile creeps onto your lips. You give him a playful punch in the upper arm. He rubs it and makes a disgruntled face at you.

“Love you too, bro.”

You nearly eat dirt on your way out of the window, but you make it unscathed. With a wide smile, you trot down the street where you see Steve’s beemer waiting beneath a streetlamp. The door is unlocked when you get there allowing you to slip in easily. Steve’s lips are on yours before you can say hi. His hand cups your face as he presses his lips urgently to yours.

You’re downright giggling when he pulls away. It's embarrassing.

“Hello to you too,” you murmur.

“Hello,” he murmurs back with a sweet smile.

Steve takes off after that. His hand is on your thigh again. This time you find the courage to intertwine your hand with his. He flashes a smile at you when you do so. Hawkins has never felt so perfect. It's like a scene from a movie as you steal glances at Steve as often as you can.

“Where are you taking me, Harrington?” You ask with teasing suspicion.

“I know this spot by Lovers Lake. Figured we could just hang out,” he shrugs, attempting to hide his insecurity.

“Not enough room for the two of us in that big house of yours?” you chuckle.

His eyes shift uncomfortably.

“My parents are home right now. I’m sorry if you thought-”

“No, no, Steve, it's fine. I was just teasing. As long as we get to spend time together, I don't care where we end up,” you promise.

His soft eyes fall on you as he stops at a sign. Before he could allow himself to fall in too deep too fast, he clears his throat.

“Speaking of parents,” he says and starts driving again, “How’d it go with yours?”

You groan and roll your eyes dramatically.

“I told him I don't plan on going to college. You can imagine how that went,” you tell him.

Steve grimaces as he pulls off onto a dirt road. It’s bumpy, but Steve isn't driving for long. You end up parked on a little overlook of the lake. Moonlight ripples across the surface giving the water the appearance of a night sky below you. Steve’s seat belt is off so he can angle himself to look at you fully. You mirror him. Gentle music trickles from the radio too low for you to really make out what it is.

“I take it he wasn’t too happy with that then?” Steve raises his eyebrows in sympathetic curiosity.

“He doesn’t seem too happy with me in general lately,” you sigh and begin picking at your fingers in your lap.

His hand takes yours to stop the anxious movement. The action draws your gaze. Steve is half frowning, thumb rubbing circles into the skin of your hand.

“He’s just worried. I kinda get it, y’know? You’re his kid and he isn’t ready for you to grow up,” he reasons.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s ready,” you frown, “He was so annoying tonight. I actually left dinner and locked myself in my room.”

Steve leans over and gives your temple a quick comforting kiss.

“My mom asked me how school was today,” Steve huffs a laugh.

You wrinkle your nose.

“How old does she think you are?” You ask.

“Seventeen apparently.”

“Is she always so detached?”

There’s something sad in his puppy dog eyes when they find you. The corners of his lips twitch in a sardonic little gesture.

“Yeah, she’s pretty spaced most of the time,” he answers quietly.

“And here I am complaining that my dad pays too much attention,” you joke.

It earns you a soft chuckle from him.

“At least my mom doesn’t stake out side roads she knows I’ll be driving on,” he teases back.

You throw your head back as you laugh. Steve grins as he watches, drinking in every last detail. His eyes drag over the silhouette of your nose and jawline in the moonlight. You’re so soft, yet there’s a bite about you. It draws him in and leaves him always wanting more, more, more. It leaves him reaching out to brush the hair from your face. Then the hair is tucked away, but he continues to skirt the backs of his fingers over your cheek. He can feel the warmth rise to them. Your face moves into his touch as you turn to look at him.

“Steve?” You probe so quietly that you aren’t sure he hears you.

“Yeah?”

“My dad said something tonight and… I think it might take more than we thought to win him over,” you admit.

Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes searches yours.

“What did he say?”

You take an even breath.

“He’s afraid, because of y-your dad, that you’ll-”

“Stop,” Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head, “Don’t say it.”

You don’t. Instead, you lean over the center console and throw your arms around his shoulders. Steve immediately melts into your embrace, circling his own arms around you and burying his face in your neck.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shakes his head the best he can in his current position. Then he’s pulling back, hands holding either side of your head. His eyes bore into you.

“I’m not like my dad. I wouldn't ever do what he does,” he promises.

There's no need to ask what it is Steve’s dad does. You've gathered enough context clues tonight to piece it together. Your hands come up to cover Steve’s.

“I know,” you tell him, “I trust you. You’re a good person, Steve Harrington.”

Steve can feel how lovesick his smile is. Your voice and words are a salve on wounds rubbed raw. You worry your lip between your teeth for a moment before continuing to speak.

“Does your dad ever do that to you?” You inquire softly.

“Not since I started fighting back,” he answers with a sad smile.

“I’m so sorry,” you say because you don't know what else there is to say.

You hate that Steve has had to go through so much and always has it overlooked. You hate that your dad thinks Steve could be anything like this father. All he’s ever been is kind and gentle with you.

“Let’s just forget about everything else tonight,” he suggests with a voice like silk, “There’s just us.”

It's a request you're more than willing to oblige. Especially when Steve’s lips find yours in a fury. It's more heated than anything the two of you have done until now, but it feels so fucking good. Steve’s hands are wide and thick as they tangle in your hair and hold the base of your neck. Your own hands explore Steve’s firm chest and shoulders over his shirt. The two of you together are the flame of a candle, flickering hot and quick.

Steve moans when you nip at his lip, allowing you to become acquainted with his tongue. It’s all so much and not enough. Everything around you is all Steve. There's nothing but Steve. He leans over the console more, hands moving to find your sides and running down them until they meet the hem of your shirt. His hands skirt around the thin layer of skin exposed by your shirt riding up. A shiver of want runs through you. You nod as his mouth continues to devour yours. Steve’s hands leave trails of heat licking up your skin as they commit every inch to memory.

You’re ready to take it further. You want Steve in every way. You want him until he’s all there is. It doesn't matter if you’re in his car out by the lake. All that matters is it's you and Steve and Steve seems to want you just as much. You muster up the courage and start to palm where his pants have grown noticeably tighter.

Just as Steve is moaning into your mouth there’s a clink clink clink on the driver's side window. The two of you fly apart, snapping to see the source of the noise, and then looking back at each other completely panicked.

“C’mon, Steve, the windows aren't that steamed up. I know it's you,” a familiar voice drones.

You groan and drop your face in your hands. The voice itself brings relief, but not a lot. Steve rolls down the window and a flashlight clicks on, blinding both of you.

“Christ- Uncle Phil, can you quit it with that?” Steve complains and shoves the flashlight away.

The light clicks off revealing a curly head of brown hair and a pair of glasses you know all too well.

“Hey, Callahan,” you greet meekly with a small wave.

“No- no,” he groans, briefly throwing his head back with his hands covering his face, “Not Little Hopper! Steve, do you have a death wish?”

“Please, don't tell my dad,” you beg quickly.

Callahan’s eyes slide between the two of you. His tongue is firmly in his cheek as he takes in the sight of his nephew moments away from having sex with his boss’s kid.

“You two are putting me in a real tough position here,” he sighs, shaking his head.

“We know. That’s why we would be super grateful if you didn’t tell Hopper anything,” Steve says.

Callahan levels Steve with a stare for a moment before his eyes move to you. Your heart is thumping at the speed of sound in your chest. It wouldn't be surprising if you dropped dead of a heart attack right now. This man who you’ve known for years, who has watched you at the station and played Uno with you, who has been like family in a lot of ways has your life in his hands. It’s unfair for everyone involved.

“I’ve been fearing the day I find you in someone’s car like this,” he tells you with a wry smile, “If it had to happen, I’m happy it's with Steve. At least I know you’re safe.”

A timid smile tugs at your lips.

“Does that mean you won't tell?” You ask quietly.

He lets out a deep heavy breath and shakes his head.

“I won't say anything,” he points sternly at you, “but it better not get back to your dad that I knew about this.”

You and Steve nod. Steve even gives his uncle a salute.

“So, are you gonna…,” Steve trails off, gesturing with his eyes for his uncle to leave.

“Yeah, right,” Callahan snorts, “You two are going home and brainstorming ways to be more discreet. Separately, no sneaking each other into anyone’s houses.”

Steve rolls his eyes but agrees. He’s in no position to argue with his uncle right now. Callahan pulls out enough for Steve to get you guys out of there. He flashes his lights once as a goodbye. The silence of the car threatens to suffocate you. Steve stops the car the turn before your street. You can feel his eyes on you as you squeeze your hands together in your lap.

“You okay?” He asks softly.

“I’m okay. Are we?” You risk a glance.

The knit of his brow tells you he’s confused, maybe even a little worried.

“Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?”

“I guess I was afraid that might have spooked you,” you shrug sheepishly.

“It’ll take more than my Uncle Phil to spook me,” he smirks.

You chuckle and lean in to steal a quick kiss. He does it back like it's a competition he’s determined to win. You scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out at him. He returns the favor. The two of you break into giggles. Thoughts that bubbled to the surface this morning, and kept bubbling up every hour after that, make their grand reappearance. Does Steve want to take this to a more serious level like you do? Has he already decided to stop seeing other people like you have?

“I like you, like a lot,” you tell him with all the eloquence of a rock.

“I like you, like a lot, too,” he smiles.

“I have a crazy question that I just thought of right this moment,” you segue with an innocent smile.

“Oh, is that right? What's this totally not premeditated question?” He teases.

“What are we doing here exactly?” It comes out far timider than you’d like.

“What do you want to be doing here exactly?” he smirks knowing you're melting inside as he dances around an answer.

You give him an unimpressed frown that's fighting to be a smile.

“Personally, I think I'd like to call you my boyfriend,” you go for it and try not to hold your breath too much.

Steve’s smile becomes something dazzling. Mischief appears in the background of it, though.

“You think, huh? I dunno,” he sighs dramatically, “I only date people who are enthusiastic about dating me.”

You roll your eyes as the smile wins.

“Oh, is that why you kept striking out at Scoops?” you tease.

He throws a pout your way.

“Maybe.”

“Well, Steve Harrington, I would be pretty enthused to call you my boyfriend,” you tell him with a sweet smile and even sweeter eyes.

“I’d be pretty enthused too,” he grins as he leans toward you.

He kisses you with almost as much passion as before. Pre-Callahan rudely interrupting. The two of you giggle into the kiss, causing you to pull apart but stay close.

“When will I see you again, boyfriend?” you hum.

“I have family stuff tomorrow after work, but my parents will be gone again Thursday. We could hang out at my place. Then movie night is Friday. It’s Rob’s turn to pick,” he answers.

“Five dollars says she picks Fast Times,” you smirk.

“Are you kidding?” he snorts, “I’m not taking a bet I know I’ll lose.”

You laugh, resting your forehead on his shoulder. When the giggles subside you bring your head up once more and find Steve’s impossibly warm gaze. He looks at you like you just invented laughter before his very eyes. It’s almost too much for you to handle. It makes you more afraid of losing this, of losing him, to your dad’s strictness.

“My dad will be home Thursday, but I don’t think Robin would mind covering for me for a few hours,” you say.

“Should I get you from Rob’s?”

“That’ll probably be for the best.”

The two of you get stuck, trapped in a trance of gooey gazes and lovesick smiles. Anyone watching would gag at the sight. No one else matters to the two of you right now, though.

“You should get inside before Uncle Phil finds us again,” Steve sighs.

You nod.

Both of you surge forward to steal one last kiss. You don't think you’ll ever tire of the way Steve’s kisses make you feel. It’s like you’re static clinging to a freshly dried sweater, warm and buzzing with energy. Your foreheads stay together when you part. Your lips hover so close you could kiss again by accident.

“Goodnight, baby,” he murmurs

The pet name brings heat to your cheeks as if there are hot coals beneath your skin. There’s a fluttering in your stomach that makes you shy.

“Goodnight,” you answer just as softly.

You steal the last peck before slipping from his beemer, winning the game for tonight. It's simple enough to get back inside. You round the side of the house to your window. It’s still cracked. You peek in first. Jonathan is listening to music on his walkman as he writes in his notebook.

The window slides up easily. As you climb in, Jonathan shoots up pin-straight, breath noticeably heavier. Once it registers it's you he relaxes and slumps back down. He takes off his headphones.

“I thought you wouldn't be back until midnight,” he says, a hint of annoyance creeping in.

“Callahan caught us and sent us home,” you explain as you shut the window behind you.

“Callahan caught you? Why aren't you more freaked out by this?” He questions, furrowing his brows.

“Because I’ve known him like half my life and he’s Steve’s uncle. He promised not to tell,” you shrug.

“He’s Steve’s uncle?”

“Yeah, on his mom’s side. I saw them around the station a few times,” as you say it you suddenly wonder if they were at the station for another reason that went over your head until now.

“How are you so lucky?” He scoffs and shakes his head.

“I dunno, nepotism?”

Jonathan actually laughs. You ignore the skunky smell and take the win.

“So, when are you doing this again?” he jerks his chin up at you and crosses his arms.

“Thursday, but don't worry. Your services shouldn't be required then,” you answer jovially as you pick out pajamas to change into.

“Wow, four whole days? How will you ever manage?” He drawls.

“Shut up. Steve’s parents are home. He has to do something with them.”

“Oh, that mayor thing probably.”

You pause and turn to look at Jonathan.

“Mayor thing?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “there’s some town award ceremony thing this week. Aren’t you going with your dad?”

“I am,” you nod slowly, “but why would Steve be there?”

Jonathan looks at you like you're stupid. Right now you're inclined to think maybe you are.

“Because his dad owns like half the town and wins at least two things a year,” he answers.

You inhale deeply and slowly, trying not to get too angry at yourself for forgetting. This stupid event that you always try to get out of, but couldn't this year. Your dad is winning something big apparently. That's not to say you're not proud of him, you are. This thing is just dreadfully boring. Steve being there makes things more interesting. More terrifying, sure, but more interesting nonetheless.

“How do you even know all this, weirdo?” You question.

“The school newspaper,” he sneers, “We cover it in the first issue.”

“Whatever, I’m going to get changed,” you grumble and leave the room.

The bathroom gives you the first moment alone to process everything tonight. When you catch your reflection in the mirror it's a little flushed, a little frazzled, but happy. Built-up energy comes out in the form of a little squeak and dance. Steve Harrington is your boyfriend. Steve Harrington is your boyfriend! Now, all you have to do is find a way to guarantee your dad won't kill him for it.

You and your dad fuss uncomfortably with the fancy clothes you've been out in. Joyce worries about all the finer details around you, swatting away your hands when one of you goes to pull on your collar or loosen a button. You have to admit, the Hoppers clean up well. They just hate getting cleaned up. It’s like giving a cat a bath.

“Oh, look at the two of you,” Joyce gushes, “We need to get pictures!”

Both you and your dad start to protest, but it's to no avail. She's already calling for Jonathan and his camera. He wears a smug smirk at your clear irritation. You shoot him daggers in return.

“At least try to smile,” he tells you and your dad.

You look at each other. You have to look upward to meet his eyes. One thing you didn't inherit from your dad is his height. A look of resigned agreement passes between you before you’re smiling at the camera. Jonathan takes a quick succession of photos and you're allowed to leave.

It feels funny being all dressed up in the chief's truck. This is the first time you've felt out of place in it.

“So,” your dad starts awkwardly, “About college…”

“Dad,” you sigh and rub your eyes with one hand, “Can we please not do this tonight?”

“I’m not- I’m just-” he pauses and takes a breath to calm down before trying again, “What I’m trying to say is, if this supervisor thing is what you wanna do… Then do it.”

You watch him drive with wide eyes.

“Really?”

He nods.

“Yeah, really.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your hazard to ask.

“Don't get me wrong,” he waves a hand around, “I still want you to go to school and get an education, but… I want you to be happy more.”

His words cause a bright light of hope to flicker on in your chest. A small smile sprouts on your face. With a steadying breath to muster up the courage you take the dive.

“I’m really glad you said that beca-” You start.

“God damn it,” your dad’s frustration cuts you off, “Harrington is already here.”

Your eyes snap forward. Sure enough, ahead of you in a rounded driveway is a shiny sleek black car. The apex of the driveway meets the front of a local event hall that’s been decorated to the nines. No doubt thanks to all that Harrington money. There are valets waiting to take everyone’s cars.

Out of the car comes a well-groomed polished man in a suit. His hair is a short chestnut coif and he has dangerously green eyes that feel perpetually sharp. From the other side appears a woman with an elegant red dress. Her own dark hair is up in a fashionably loose bun. They don't smile at each other. In fact, they barely regard each other at all. They immediately jump into talking to those around them.

Then he climbs out of the back. Steve is in a sharp black suit of his own and his brown hair has been perfectly blown out. His smile is unnaturally tight. It takes a massive amount of restraint to not fling your door open and run to him.

“Can you just be civil for tonight?” You sigh.

“I’m civil,” your dad argues lightly.

“Is that so? Then you won't mind me hanging out with Steve tonight,” you say knowingly.

Your dad’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. A ball of disappointment drops in your stomach. Any hope has been extinguished. Clearly, him caring about your happiness the most doesn't extend to Steve.

“Probably best to stay away while his old man is around,” he advises cryptically.

“Why? Steve isn't his dad,” you snap without meaning to.

“Maybe not, but he’s always worse when he’s around. Callahan caught him with someone last night, y’know. I told you, guys like him don't change,” he half lectures.

You look out your window as your face catches fire.

“Whatever, Steve is my friend and I don't want to argue about it tonight,” you state.

Your dad sighs but doesn't carry it any further. He doesn't want to argue about it tonight either apparently. Steve disappears into the venue leaving you to watch after him. After a short wait, you finally get to the top of the curve and climb out of the car.

“Hey, Chief,” the kid working valet greets.

The chief truck stays in front of the building, but off to the side. Just in case some world-ending call comes in. Half the town is here and the other half wants to be. It's a nice excuse to dress up, have a few drinks, and eat a free meal. You’re most excited to steal looks at Steve.

When you enter it's a grand room with circular tables arranged around a stage at the front. The back of the room has an extravagant bar where most people are mingling right now. The decorations are simple yet tasteful. The mayor, a young man the town elected to save them from all the crazy shit Hawkins seems to attract, shakes hands with his constituents around the room.

Some councilman starts talking to your dad. You’re introduced briefly then you’re just stuck standing there. This is the part you hate about these things. Just waiting around as your dad falls in and out of conversations. Bored, your eyes scan the room searching before you know it.

Sticky sweet eyes, molten light brown that you know has green hidden near the middle like caramel apples, catch you from near the bar. Steve’s entire being brightens when he realizes you’re there. He smiles and sends you a discreet little wave. He’s so pretty it makes your teeth ache. You return both the smile and wave, already calculating how you can sneak off to say hello.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you say.

Your dad nods as the councilman continues talking his ear off. Whatever they're talking about, your dad doesn't seem especially interested. With him distracted, you easily make your way to the bar. You take care to stick to the opposite end as the Harringtons, but Steve’s eyes have already found you. He excuses himself and waves through all of Hawkins’ finest residents. The bartender comes up to where you're leaning on the bar with your forearms.

“What can I get for you?” he asks.

“Just a sprite, thanks,” you smile.

“Make that two,” Steve’s voice comes from behind you.

A wide grin spreads across your face as you turn around. You’re met with an expression similar to your own.

“Why, Mr. Harrington, funny running into you here,” you muse.

“Mm, I’m considering it lucky. You look amazing,” he tells you as his eyes trail up and down your form.

“You look exceptionally handsome yourself.”

“I didn't know you’d be here,” he comments, still drinking you in.

Your face warms under his eyes.

“Normally I wouldn't, but I didn't have anything to get me out of it this year. What table are you guys at? We’re over at four,” you point at a round table near the front.

“We’re at one,” he points to a few tables away.

“Good, I think my dad would burst a blood vessel if he had to sit near yours tonight,” you attempt to keep it light, but the weight is still present.

“He won't burst one when he sees you over here talking to me?” he teases, helping to carry the load.

“Eh, he’ll survive,” you wave him off.

“Sprites,” the bartender announces as he places the two glasses on the bar top.

You reach for your wallet, but Steve’s hand catches your wrist.

“Put it on the Harrington tab, thanks,” he says.

The bartender nods and walks off. Steve’s hand stays on your wrist.

“So, there’s a coat check over in the entrance hall…,” you trail off suggestively, glancing to the doorway to the entrance hall.

Steve’s eyes follow yours and a smirk grows on his lips. His lips you wish you could kiss right in the middle of this stupid event.

“Meet you in twenty-” he begins to plan.

“Steve, there you are,” a deep voice sighs.

Steve goes stiff, straightening until he’s ramrod straight. Your eyes widen as they move to the man over Steve’s shoulder. Steve turns around, clenching his Sprite a little tighter than before.

“Sorry, sir, I came to grab a drink and ran into a friend,” he says, but his voice is different.

He’s different. His hands move less, barely at all. The inflection of his voice is more proper, professional almost. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the back of his head.

“Who is this friend?” His father asks, sounding tired.

“We work at the mall together,” Steve explains.

“Right, the mall,” his father states disdainfully.

“Steve is a really good worker,” you pipe in, attempting to back Steve up.

Both men’s eyes turn to you. Steve’s are soft and tender, but the gentleness of them is cut through by the sharpness of his father’s. His father sizes you up, but it's unlike anything you've experienced. You don't feel like he's looking at you, but all the price tags attached to the things you own and wear. It's as if his eyes are calculating your value. You feel like a burger from Benny’s compared to Steve’s fine dining at Enzo’s.

“And who is it you belong to?” he questions with narrowed eyes.

“Oh- uh-” you stutter.

“John,” your dad’s curt voice saves you.

All eyes go to your dad.

“Jim.”

He stands taller than John Harrington and thicker. His eyes are stony and his mouth is set. The two men hold each other’s gaze like dogs readying for the other to launch. Your dad’s eyes soften when they land on you behind the Harrington men. They create a wall between you. A wall you desperately want your dad to break through. This situation has gotten itchy and uncomfortable very fast.

“You okay?” he checks.

“Yeah, I just ran into Steve while getting my drink,” you answer with a small smile, holding up the drink in question.

Your dad nods, resetting his jaw. His eyes fall on Steve. Steve who, to his credit, is trying to convey as apologetic a look as he can get away with in front of his own father. He tries to communicate that he doesn't want you around John Harrington anymore than your dad does. You aren't sure it works.

“It’s good to see you, Chief,” Steve smiles tightly.

“Yeah, you too,” your dad replies unconvincingly.

“So, how've you been, Jim? How’s- uh- Diane, is it?” John inquires.

Now it’s your turn to go completely stiff. The mention of your mother sends your heart racing and your stomach plummeting. You look at your dad, panicked and worried. Steve catches the shift. Your dad has gone completely cold. He glares at John, jaw flexing as he restrains himself. There’s no way John doesn't know… right? It feels like everyone in Hawkins knows the tragedy of the Hoppers. A tragedy that split them up and sent half of them back home to Hawkins.

“Fine,” your dad answers short and hot before looking at you, “Let’s go find our table.”

You don't argue. You don't even speak. You simply nod and shoot Steve a shy smile as you shuffle past him. John Harrington’s eyes are heavy on you, but you don't acknowledge them. Your dad casts a solid arm over your shoulder, sheltering you from the Harrington men. Then he’s ushering you away. The only noise comes from the people around you blissfully unaware of the tension stretching between the Hoppers and the Harringtons. Little cards on the table with your names on them aren't hard to find. The two of you take your seats.

“Dad,” you start quietly, “I’m really sorry.”

Your dad fixes you with a tired smile.

“Nothing to be sorry for. You were just saying hi to a friend, right?” He raises his eyebrows slightly.

You have to swallow the lump of guilt in your throat before responding.

“Right,” you nod, “His dad came over right when we got our drinks.”

He sighs and runs a hand down his face. The gesture skews some of his mustache hair.

“Look, if you’re going to be friends with Steve, fine,” he says evenly, “But I don't want you anywhere near John Harrington.”

“Okay,” you agree without hesitation.

Your dad smiles warmly at you. The trust he casts over you only makes your skin crawl. Are you the worst kid in the world? It’s starting to feel that way.

“I’m sorry he mentioned mom,” you attempt to assuage some of your guilt.

“Don't be,” he sighs, “He knew what he was doing.”

A beat of silence passes over you. Anxiously, you sip your drink.

“I… I haven't talked to her, y’know. Since she…,” you can't finish the thought.

“You should,” he tells you, “You should call her soon.”

You furrow your brows at him. That wasn't what you had been expecting from him.

“Why?”

“Because she’s your mother. I’m sure she would like to hear from you.”

A short puff of air exits your nose as you cross your arms.

“She’s someone else’s mother too now. I’m sure she’s busy,” you answer bitterly.

Your dad sighs once more, running a hand down his face again.

“You can't stay mad at her forever,” he reasons.

“But you can?”

“That's different we’re- She’s your mother. It’s different.”

“She was my mother. You two aren't the only ones who lost someone. You aren't the only ones that get to be mad at each other for everything. I was there too, I experienced it too,” you snap quietly enough to only be heard by him.

His features soften at that. He nods solemnly. His heavy hand clamps comfortingly on your shoulder with a squeeze before retreating back to the table.

“Are you doing that movie night thing with Steve and your tuba friend?” he asks.

You chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Robin and I will be going to Steve’s on Friday, yes. His parents will be gone again by then. He wouldn't have us over otherwise,” you reply.

“Good.”

“He was trying to keep me from him,” you tell him, picking at a spot on the white tablecloth.

“Good,” he echoes.

“Does that mean you’re going to stop being so crazy about me and him?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

His mouth flattens into a line.

“I’m okay with you being friends, but there are rules,” he lifts a finger to start listing, “One, no hanging out alone unless it's in public. Two, you don’t go there if his parents are home. Three, he only comes over when I’m home.”

“Anything else?” You half-joke.

He levels you with a serious look.

“Just… Be honest with me. I just want to know you're safe.”

If you didn't know any better you’d think the whole world is crashing around you. Fuck, you feel god awful. Your dad’s voice mixes with the ghost of Callahan’s in your head. At least I know you’re safe, Callahan had said when finding you with Steve. I just want to know you’re safe. You force a smile that you hope is convincing.

“Yeah, of course,” you say, “There aren't any secrets between us.”

He smiles, the corners of his mustache lifting up in the way they do when it's really genuine. He gives you a loving shoulder squeeze. You struggle to hold back your nausea. There aren't any secrets between us. Maybe at one time that was true, but certainly not anymore.

Rule One >>

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #hopper!reader #stranger things fic

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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 8 months

Note

WIR Everlark are hot-hot-hot. But I wonder could we have a little something about finding out Katniss pregnant. First or second time. I love parents-storyline of that fic just as much as Peeta being horny.

How about a little of both? Lol. No graphic smut here, but there are some very adult themes and language in this piece. Fair warning: sometimes, being pregnant is not fun.

Also, I have one more request for pregnant Wrapped in Red Katniss, and that piece will feature much later down the pregnancy road.

A refresher on ages before we get started. For this piece: Karina - 19 Avery - 15 Olive - 13 Cole - 7

** Karina **

“So is Katniss preggers yet?” Meaghan asks as she half hangs off my bed, painting her nails a deep shade of purple. I watch as several drops of polish land on the towel I laid out on the floor under Meaghan’s hands when she got started on the impromptu manicure.

“Not yet. At least, they haven’t said anything,” I tell her and reach for the polish but retract my hand. “Can’t you do that sitting at my desk like a normal person?”

“No, I really cannot,” Meaghan says happily. “I need some childish insanity like this. I spend too much time at school, stressing over my grades and making sure my dad doesn’t find out too much about my life there because he’d never let me leave the house again if he knew about Jack.”

“And Bryan… and Trevor… Drew,” I tease. “Really half the Zeta Psi house.”

“What?! I’m only nineteen. It’s not like I’m gonna repeat my parents’ mistakes. I’m not settling down to have a kid with The One anytime soon… I’m just… enjoying myself before I get around to finding him. And the Zetas are easy practice for making myself irresistibly charming to the future Mr. Hawthorne.”

I purse my lips and look away. I know she doesn’t mean anything by it. Talking like this. Meaghan’s mom was nineteen when she was born, just like mine when I was born. And my dad, too. But unlike mine, Meaghan’s parents stayed together. Not that I would have wanted my parents to stay together. Exactly. I mean, from where I sit now, it’d be stupid to wish that. Especially since we have Katniss now.

“But my dad is…” Meaghan makes a face and I can’t help but laugh.

“Overprotective?”

“To say the least,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Oh my god, I didn’t tell you about this one,” she starts, finally screwing the cap back on the polish and handing it to me. I shake it a little and peel off my socks, starting in on painting my toes the same shade.

“What?” I prompt.

“I forgot I was doing my laundry earlier today, and I guess Dad decided to move it for me. Not sure if he was trying to be helpful or impatient, but whatever. And he started yelling for my mom like he was on fire or something. She came to me with my basket of dry clothes and told me that I should probably make sure to keep track of my laundry if I’m going to be washing my thongs at home…so my father doesn’t get traumatized.”

We stare at each other with matching, wide eyed, shocked expressions until we can’t hold it in anymore. Then we explode with laughter and screeches of mingled horror, embarrassment, and amusement.

We’re still screeching when someone knocks on the door, and before I can say a word, Dad pokes his head in. “Kare-Bear, we have really loved having you at home for the summer but--”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, Dad. We’ll try not to wake Cole again,” I say. He sighs softly and runs his hand through his hair.

“Or Katniss.”

“Mom’s already out for the night?” I ask and Dad nods. “Again?”

“Yep,” he says. “So please keep it down just a little.”

We agree and I sigh too as my dad closes the door. “I’m worried about her,” I admit to Meaghan, only half paying attention to my toes as I swipe on the polish. “I can’t remember her ever sleeping this much before.”

Meaghan snorts and snatches up the bottle of clear top coat. “And your dad sounds frustrated as hell.”

It takes Meaghan waggling her eyebrows at me for it to sink in what she’s saying. I grab the nearest pillow and whack her with it as she laughs.

“What? It’s the truth. He’s a total horn dog for Katniss, and you know it!”

“Ugh!”

“You wanted to set them up!”

My cheeks are burning and I shake my head. “That doesn’t mean I want to think about them having sex, let alone talk about it!”

“And you wanted siblings! How do you expect to get those siblings if there isn’t some bow-chicka-bow-wow between your parents?”

“I was fine with adopting them,” I insist and Meaghan guffaws.

“I think they’re cute. It’s obvious how in love they still are. I figured you’d appreciate that and all given…”

She trails off and I fight the urge to snap at her. She’s not being mean. We’ve talked a lot over the years about how awful the last few years were before my dad and Glimmer finally realized they just needed to get a divorce already.

“Maybe,” I counter, “but unless you wanna talk about your parents getting frisky with each other--”

“Pffft, old news,” Meaghan says with a roll of her eyes. And she really does sound so blasé about it. It truly doesn’t bother her at all, and I wonder what that must be like.

“God I hate you sometimes,” I mutter with false venom and she shakes her head.

“No, you don’t. You--” She stops talking abruptly and her eyes round out, saucer wide. “Holy shit.”

“What?”

“Holy shit!” she practically squeals, but she does it under her breath.

“What?!” I ask again and she motions me closer.

“Okay, you cannot freak out about this, but when I was downstairs, getting snacks and things, they were in the laundry room, and your dad was pawing at Katniss--”

“Really, Meaghan?” I ask, wishing I wasn’t blushing this much.

“Shut up and listen,” she retorts and I snap my mouth shut. “He couldn’t keep his hands off her, and I swear to god, I heard him tell her that the shirt she was wearing made her tits looks amazing and that he wanted to--”

“Does this have a point?” I try not to screech. Don’t get me wrong, I really do love that Dad and Katniss are so in love with each other. So happy together. And that their romance still seems to be going strong, chemistry still sizzling, all those are good things. But that doesn’t mean I want my friend witnessing or sharing graphic details.

“Yes, this has a point. Because he’s right. I noticed it, too. Haven’t you?”

I open my mouth to protest but then I stop. Because I did think the other day that the shirt Katniss was wearing stretched a little tighter, dipped a little lower than anything I remember her wearing before.

“Oh my god,” I whisper as Meahghan starts nodding.

“And she’s tired all the time now…”

“Oh my freaking god!” I squeal again. “I’m gonna be a big sister again!”

We dissolve basically into excited chaos. It’s only when someone knocks on the door again a few minutes later that I realize how loud and squeally we’ve gotten. We silence ourselves immediately, and I call out a timid, “Come in!”

It’s Katniss this time and I have to purse my lips the whole time she’s standing there, with her arms crossed over her chest, only making it more obvious.

“Really, girls? I know you’re enjoying your newfound independence at college, but please. There are people trying to sleep here.”

“Sorry, Mom.”

Katniss smiles softly at us then and notices the nail polish. “Alright. Just try to be considerate while you enjoy your girl talk. I think Dad is planning to make his spinach and feta croissants for breakfast, Karina.”

“Yes! We’ll be awake for it,” I promise and Katniss looks askance at us.

“Uh-huh. Sure.” She slips out the door, closing it behind her.

** Katniss **

“See?!?!” I hear Meaghan hiss through the door and I pause for a moment. “Either your mom got a boob job recently or she’s totally preggers.”

“Do you think they know? And why haven’t they told me yet?” Karina asks and I’m thrown back to years ago, when Meaghan knew that her own mother was pregnant when Madge had only told Gale and myself.

Maybe I should’ve put on Peeta’s sweatshirt before I went in to see them, I think with a sigh. Although it sounds like they already suspected.

“I dunno. But there’s all kinds of reasons why they might not be ready to say anything yet. My parents kept it to themselves after Mom had a few miscarriages.”

“I guess. They were trying for a really long time.”

“Yep. Exactly. But it’s so obvious now. No wonder your dad wants to slide his dick between her tits.”

“Meaghan!” Karina squeals and I almost join her. I can’t believe Meaghan witnessed Peeta saying that to me without my knowing. I can’t believe she’s talking about it. As the girls dissolve into more chatter and laughter, I make my way back downstairs to where Peeta is taking care of a few last cleanup tasks before bed.

“Hey,” he says, clearly surprised to see me. “Thought you were asleep.”

“I am. I think I’m sleepwalking. That or college girls gossiping while on break woke me up,” I tell him and he sighs.

“I warned them to keep it down.”

“Hmmm but how can they with such juicy material like Gale having heart attacks over discovering that Meaghan wears thongs and—“

“What the fuck?” Peeta freezes and stares at me in shock. I blink and bite my lip, trying to hold back his clearly smoking brain as he makes the next logical leap. “You don’t think Karina is wearing thongs too, do you?”

“Love. I would never betray her trust in me and tell you what sort of undergarments we’ve gotten for her. But do I have to remind you that you used to be okay with this sort of thing?”

“I know, I know,” he says and I sit gingerly in one of the barstools at the kitchen island and he moves to stand next to me. “I guess I just… she’s nineteen and I know we’ve taught her to be careful but I still worry she’s gonna get caught up in the moment with someone and—“

“And what?” I prod and his shoulders slump.

“Maybe I should be grateful that the daughter I had at nineteen turned out to prefer girls,” he says and I snort.

“We still could wind up dealing with broken hearts.”

“I just wish she felt like she could tell us,” he murmurs and I set one hand on his cheek to reassure him.

“She will. In her own time.”

“I know, I just… I guess I worry that we’ve done something to make her doubt how supportive we’d try to be, or to make her not trust us.”

“All we can do is keep being there for her, and be there for her as much as we can when she does tell us. And then we’ll definitely be dealing with a whole other host of issues,” I remind him.

“I’ll take them. I like my chance of intimidating a girl better than I do the meatheaded frat boys Meaghan’s been supposedly chasing.”

“Poor Gale,” I say and can barely contain my chuckle. Or my feeling of vindication, knowing what I do about his tendencies before he started seeing Madge. “Too many to count,” he’d once told me.

“But really, Peeta,” I soothe and slide my hand up his arm. “I think you'd be much better at intimidating horny college boys. I mean, you know exactly how they think.”

“Or don’t think,” he offers. “That’s half the problem. Most of them are too young, dumb, and full of cum to be afraid enough of Daddy to do us any good. I was, at least,” he pouts, and I laugh slightly.

“Except you have an advantage.”

“Oh?” He perks up at this and ever so subtly flexes his arm muscles.

“You’ve been acting like one of them lately, according to Meaghan. Wanting to slide your dick between my tits and all.”

He stares at me for a moment and then groans, hanging his head in embarrassment. “She heard that?”

“Yep. And apparently, my amazing new boobs are what clued Meaghan in about our new little one.”

“So the girls know?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“So much for keeping it low key.” Peeta’s laughter softens as he pulls me to my feet and slides his hand soothingly over my belly. I’m still nowhere near showing, but I still love the way he touches me even now. Almost reverent.

“God I can’t wait to meet them,” he whispers and we share a meaningful look. We’d almost given up. We’d been trying for over a year with no luck. Then we stopped trying specifically to get me pregnant and decided that we’d just set it aside, revisit the conversation six months later and decide if we wanted to give fertility treatments a go or if we’d just accept that it wasn’t meant to be.

But four months after we stopped actively trying, I missed a period. Then two. And my boobs started to feel heavy and the thought of drinking milk turned my stomach and then Peeta made a comment about my shirts looking a little tight as things got heated one night. He peeled my shirt off and stared at my breasts, gaping at me and then suggesting I take a pregnancy test.

It came back positive. But it had taken us so long to conceive that I wanted to see a doctor before we told anyone. And then, shortly before our appointment, the nightmares started. Horrifying, violent images that make me question my sanity and drive me to a near paralyzing fear of losing our child. Peeta’s child.

Of course, Peeta has been a rock through the whole thing, waking me from the terrible visions and holding me while I sob. Going to the appointment with me, and when the doctor confirmed what we already knew, Peeta went into what I have dubbed his nesting phase. He’s constantly cleaning the house and reevaluating the safety of it. He’s constantly touching me as though he can’t believe I’m still real, and he’s always checking on me, verbally demanding reassurance that I’m okay. He pampers me like nothing else, too. Back rubs, foot rubs, fragrant baths. All the smallest of tasks that he’s suddenly taking care of so I don’t have to. He brushes and braids my hair for me almost every day. Cooks almost all the meals unless I chase him out of the kitchen with a spatula.

But my food has become a battleground over what’s the most nutritious and has the least empty calories versus whatever the fuck I want to eat without feeling like I’m gonna vomit. But even that, I know, stems from his love for me and our child.

And there’s this, the way he so effortlessly reassures me that everything is going to be okay. We’ll have each other, and our already formidable brood of kids. And it’s okay that Karina still hasn’t technically come out to us. She’ll do that in her own time as well.

“You’re already an amazing mother. I can’t wait to witness you slay at this form of motherhood too. Can’t wait to parent our baby with you from day one,” he tells me.

I smile as he whispers words of love and loop my arms around his shoulders. I’m still smiling and stifling my own girlish giggles when he carries me upstairs and lays me out naked on our bed.

** Peeta **

I’m already awake when I feel Katniss stirring beside me. I couldn’t go to sleep, even after. Wrestling with my own fears and unable to articulate them to Katniss just yet. Maybe I shouldn’t at all, given that it looks like her nightmares might persist awhile longer. She’s dealing with enough. When the whimpering starts, I roll over and shake her awake.

“Katniss. Katniss, honey wake up,” I murmur. It takes twice more before she flies upright with a huge, gasping breath. Her eyes wildly roam the room and her chest heaves before her gaze lands on me and her shoulders sag. There’s a faint sheen of perspiration on her face and chest. I reach out for her and she’s already crying quietly when she buries her face in my shirt.

I fucking hate this. I hate that she lives in terror during the night. I hate that it’s my fault, for wanting another child. With Katniss. I hate that there’s nothing I can do but hold her after the nightmares.

I hold her, rocking our bodies ever so slightly as her breathing comes under control. I reach out and snag a tissue from the box on my nightstand and barely pull back from her, lifting her chin to wipe away the remaining tears.

Katniss takes the whole tissue from my hand and blows her nose rather loudly. I smile slightly and hand her a second tissue when it’s clear one won’t be enough.

“Better?” I ask, tossing the used tissues aside to deal with later.

“Not really.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I ask and press a kiss to her forehead.

“Not really,” she repeats, but her words are less certain than before. “Peeta… am I going crazy?”

I almost miss the question, she whispers it so quietly. But I hold her face in my palms, dragging my thumbs over her cheeks.

“No more than anyone else,” I whisper back. She bites her lip and in the faint light from our phone docking station, I can see her eyes welling up with fresh tears.

“It’s just… I’m afraid of my own thoughts,” she whispers. “The things I see… they’re horrible.”

“I’m scared too. Scared I’m too old, that I won’t have the energy or patience I need anymore. Won’t be enough—“

“Not like that,” she cuts me off, and something in her voice chills me.

“My nightmares… they’re not about the baby. They’re … they’re about people I love. Hurting other people I love and…” she pauses to swallow, her eyes closing as she murmurs the rest. “And enjoying it. Everyone I love becomes a psychopath in my nightmares and I… see what they do to each other, in graphic, horrifying detail.”

I open my mouth to comfort her but no words come out. She manages to speak first.

“Did Glimmer have dreams like this? With Karina?”

The question startles me. We don’t talk about Glimmer very often. Not because we’re avoiding the topic, but because there’s rarely something that needs to be said about her anymore.

“Not that I know of,” I say. Katniss looks stricken for a moment and I rush to reassure her. “But that doesn’t mean she didn’t. She just might not have told me about them. I looked it up, though, right after the nightmares started. It is sometimes a pregnancy side effect. To have night terrors.”

At this, Katniss snorts. “Great. As if becoming a parent isn’t terrifying enough already.”

I can’t help but chuckle and pull her into my arms again. We lay back down and settle in, although I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep.

“You’re already a parent, Katniss. Karina hasn’t called you anything but ‘Mom’ in years. Avery, Olive, Cole… you are their mother, Katniss. maybe the girls have memories of their biological parents, but a person can have more than one mother.”

She nods against my chest, her fingers clenching to grip my shirt then relaxing, again and again.

“Maybe I should talk to Madge,” Katniss says, just as I think she’s about to fall back asleep.

“I think that’s a great idea,” I tell her. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a slight pang of jealousy. But a few deep breaths and reminders, and it passes. Katniss needs and deserves friends who can truly understand what she’s going through. And while I’ve been a parent longer than Katniss, I’ve never been pregnant. I’m not a Mom.

Her breathing starts to even out and it takes me a while to join her in sleep, but in the morning, I wake up and realize she’s still cocooned peacefully in my arms. No more nightmares after that first round.

Thankfully, we already had plans with the Hawthorne’s, so Katniss won’t have to wait long to talk to Madge about it, although I don’t bring it up. I worry that if I do bring it up during the daylight, it’ll only make Katniss shy away from the idea.

We meet up with the Hawthornes downtown, with plans to eat lunch together and then let the younger kids play in the park while the older ones roam the shops along the main street of the town. After lunch, I engineer a reason to talk to Gale, and we wind up focused on the younger kids in the park while Katniss and Madge sit on a nearby bench, talking quietly, with their heads bent together.

It’s not much of a conversation between me and Gale. Mainly, I listen while he vents about whatever shenanigans his twins have gotten up to lately. Growing up hasn’t stopped Hunter and Archer from being absolute terrors. And they’re both planning on studying engineering, which means Gale is worried that now their shenanigans will only grow more complex and dangerous, and further reaching.

“At least their hearts are in the right spot,” I try to remind him and he snorts.

“Sometimes, I’m not sure.”

His phone chimes in his pocket and I take a second to make sure Cole hasn’t gotten bored and wandered off. He’s actually made his way over to the bench where Madge and Katniss are sitting. I’m about to call him back over, to give Katniss space to talk to Madge, when Gale curses under his breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“The fuck is this shit?” he says instead of answering and walks with purpose towards Madge. “Margaret Denise Hawthorne, what the fuck is your daughter doing with her life?”

“Pardon?” Madge asks, her pretty face already folding into a scowl. And I can’t blame her, based on Gale’s tone.

“First the thongs in the laundry, which you assured me are no big deal. Now Meaghan is using her credit card to buy something from a store called…” he looks at his phone and grinds the name out through his teeth, “Baby Bundles and Booties?”

Madge lifts one eyebrow at him and then coughs. “You really think she’d be buying baby clothes for herself right now if she were pregnant? Especially on her card, which you have access to the statements for?”

“Fuck if I know,” he says. I notice Cole’s eyes going super wide, and Katniss is starting to blush. She leans forward, like she’s going to speak, but Madge holds her arm protectively across Katniss’s chest.

“Come on, Gale, she’s smarter than that. And why are you getting notifications about every purchase she makes? I thought we talked about trusting her more?”

“One of us has to make sure she doesn’t destroy her life over some asshole boy,” he says and Madge stands up to square off with him.

“You mean like I did?”

Gale sputters and Madge snatches the phone out of his hands.

“Here’s an idea. Instead of spying on your daughter, try talking to her about these things. It’s what I’ve done, and you’ll notice that I’m not making an idiot of myself in the park.”

“All I know is our daughter has been wearing skimpy underwear and now she’s buying--”

“It’s probably for me!” Katniss blurts out and everyone goes silent.

“Katniss, you don’t have to--”

“But I want to,” Katniss cuts Madge off and looks up at me. I hold my hand out to her and give her a slight nod. She places her hand in mine and rises to stand next to me. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her temple, letting her know that whatever she decides to tell him right now, I’m behind her. “We wanted to wait a little longer, because I was afraid, but Gale you’re one of my oldest friends. I know you’d never be intentionally cruel if things don’t… don’t go well.”

Her voice catches and Gale looks down at his phone screen. I can see him trying to make sense of it, so I go ahead and step in.

“The girls figured it out already. They were talking about it last night, but they don’t know Katniss and I know they know.”

Gale can’t help but laugh a little at my ridiculous sounding sentence. Katniss rises up and kisses my jaw. I hope she and Madge at least got in a decent conversation about the nightmares.

“So this is probably them buying something for you two,” Gale says, waving his phone around. “And your… your baby.”

“Yep,” Madge says, and Gale’s growing smile fades as he gives her an apologetic look.

“Wait, so we’re gonna have a baby?” Cole asks and I wince. I really would have preferred we had the chance to sit down and talk to him and Avery and Olive about this in private. They knew we were trying, because we talked about it with all of our kids when we first made that decision, and they seemed fine with it at the time, but maybe something has changed.

“We are,” I tell him as gently as I can.

“Awesome. As long as I get a brother and not another sister.” For a second, his face remains intensely serious and I can feel Katniss gearing up to explain to him when his face breaks out in a grin. “Hello, Baby Brother!”

He hugs Katniss tightly and she holds onto him for a minute or two.

“Can we go out for dinner tonight? To celebrate?” I open my mouth to say maybe not, since we ate out for lunch, but Cole isn’t done. “Babies are a lot of hard work. So Momma needs to rest… so do you, Dad.”

“We’ll think about it,” I say but I can already tell from the look on Katniss’s face that she’s not only going to insist on giving Cole what he wants, she’s probably going to let him pick the restaurant.

From there, whatever conversation we were going to have turns into expressions of happiness and excitement. Madge hugs Katniss last, and I just barely hear her whispering.

“I know they’re awful. You can always talk to me about them, but it’ll be so much easier to deal with them if you tell Peeta, too.”

I try not to feel insulted that Katniss obviously told Madge that she felt like she couldn’t talk to me about her nightmares. Because it’s not really about my ego or my feelings. I’m just glad that she’s felt comfortable talking to someone about them, even if she never does talk about them with me.

The rest of the day is almost a blur. For now, all of our kids seem excited about the news. Only time will tell if that excitement holds. As we’re getting ourselves ready for bed, three of our four children already asleep, Karina knocks lightly on our door.

“Hey,” she says shyly after Katniss tells her to come on in. “With all the excitement today, I didn’t get a chance to give this to you.”

She presents us with a gift bag, pale yellow tissue paper poking up out of it. Katniss hugs her and I watch happily as Karina melts into her embrace.

“Okay, well good night!” Karina says when she steps out of Katniss’s embrace and flings herself briefly into mine.

“Don’t you wanna stay for us to open it?” Katniss asks and Karina shakes her head.

“It’s been a crazy day. I figure you two want some alone time,” she says and scoots out of the room before either of us can say anything.

“Should I bring her back?” I ask as Katniss sits on the bed with a smile. She shakes her head.

“No. We can thank her for the gift in the morning. Besides, if I had to guess, knowing Karina, she’s trying to do something for us, to show us her excitement, without it having any kind of effect on her siblings.”

“Fair enough,” I say and sit next to Katniss as she pulls the tissues from the bag and pulls out a soft, pale green set of footie pajamas, patterned with frogs leaping between lily pads, and a matching cap for an infant.

“Oh,” Katniss says and I have to bite back my laughter when two seconds later, she’s crying on my shoulder and using a thousand phrases of profanity to curse her hormones. “I feel like I owe so many apologies to Madge right now.”

I fail at holding back my laughter when she says that, but I don’t ask her to explain. I think I can imagine pretty well how frustrated Katniss might have once gotten with Madge and her pregnancy hormones, and how Madge would’ve pushed back instead of taking it.

“Can I see the gift?” I eventually ask and Katniss sits back, wiping her nose with her sleeve before gently handing the pajamas to me. I hold them for a second and then Katniss curses again, right before tackling me and flinging aside the pajamas.

We’re a frenzy of movement and my head is spinning by the time she’s got us both naked.

“They’re just pajamas. How am I supposed to control myself when there’s a baby in your arms wearing the pajamas?” she asks, and my laughter at her fury is cut short when she slides down onto me, taking me inside her. I wrap my arms around her and nuzzle under her ear as she starts to move.

“Hopefully, you won’t have to control yourself. I don’t want you to control yourself.”

It’s only much later, when we’re breathless and spent and our bed is a fucking mess, that Katniss rises up on her elbow to gaze down at my face. Her movements are languid as she kiss my pectoral and then sets her cheek over my heart.

“The nightmare last night… it featured what I can only describe as erotic cannibalism.”

“Erotic… okay,” I say carefully. “That explains the way you phrased it. People you love hurting other people you love and enjoying it.”

“It was…terrifying. And I…” She trails off and I wait, but when she doesn't go on, I try to comfort her.

“It sounds terrifying,” I agree and she hums quietly.

“My brain has to be so fucked up to come up with something like that.”

“Not really,” I say. “Dreams are already fucked up without the pregnancy hormones and all the worries you’re working through. These night terrors… they aren’t something you should blame yourself for, Katniss. They’re just nightmares on steroids. Or pregoids… since you’re pregnant.”

I hear her release one reluctant snort and figure I’m safe to try and get her to laugh a little more. Not because it’ll make the night terrors go away, not because it’s funny that she has them, but because maybe it’s better if she doesn’t dwell on them too much.

“So um… who did I roast and eat? Or was I the banquet?”

“What?” she asks and gives me an odd look.

“I mean, not to make light of things, but I think I’d look pretty damn sexy wearing nothing but an apple in my mouth. Perfect feast for a bunch of erotic cannibals. Did I at least get to partake in the orgy before you feasted on me?”

“Oh my god,” she says and covers her face with one hand. Her shoulders are shaking and it's only when she moves her hand that I see she’s laughing. “You were definitely the main course.”

“Come on now. Did I get to partake in the orgy first? Was I at least delicious?” I ask and she smacks me with a pillow before I can wrench it from her hands. “Oh now you’ve done it.”

By the time we manage to stop playing around, she’s smiling and then holding me close to her. I kiss her temple and wrap my arms tight around her.

“Thank you. Sometimes, I just need you to hold me and I know it’ll be okay,” she whispers as we settle back in to hopefully sleep.

“Joke’s on you,” I say. “This is me pinning you in place to make sure I at least get to take part in the orgy before the feast.”

She laughs again and when she finally slips into sleep, I notice that her expression is relaxed. Maybe, I hope, it’ll help her subconscious stay away from such horrifying images. But if it doesn’t, at least now I know just how terrifying her fears are to her.

#words are peetas thing not mine #ten years of fanfiction mania #wrapped in red nonsense #no seriously pregnancy nightmares are a whole other level #they do not come to play #a-catgirl-universe #look at that ask

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