#god im dying this took so long to write

[imustbenuts]

Fire Emblem Heroes - the quiet Buddhist cosmology beneath the Norse Facade

OKAY i've compiled my thoughts on what Kiran is and the whole buddhist lens ive been yammering on about, if you have the time and love Fire Emblem Heroes please give this a read!

let me know what you think, or not. If that link stinks, click the read more to unfurl the article here on tumblr.

In this post: what Kiran is, what they represent, and what some of the other Heroes characters mean in contrast (possibly)

Fire Emblem Heroes — the quiet Buddhist cosmology beneath the Norse facade.

Fire Emblem Heroes. It’s a gacha game dressed in a thick layer of Norse Mythology. Each year the game drip feeds its audience with a story building up to how an inevitable Ragnarok might occur as an excuse to have people direct its heroes to battle, gain experience, and strengthen the Order of Heroes in a manner akin to Valhalla and how it is depicted in Norse Mythology.

But I’m here to argue that this is not entirely the case today.

Before I begin, I’d like to stress a few things. I am not Buddhist and neither am I really interested in pushing or debate religion. I am merely here to point out my observation, analysis and thoughts I’ve compiled over time about Fire Emblem Heroes when seen through the lens of Buddhist cosmology.

With that said, here I go.

I’ll begin with our avatar this round in Fire Emblem Heroes. Kiran.

At first glance, this empty slate of a character doesn’t seem that interesting. They function as a avatar for the player and doesn’t have any spoken lines. Though it is clear that they do speak, by and large they lack any sort of tangible personality or motivation. Their ability to summon heroes is what helps Alfonse, the protagonist of Heroes, defend his Kingdom of Askr.

The only other character in the Fire Emblem series which is similar is Mark from The Blazing Blade, but even there they have an excuse to help the protagonists in the beginning: they are a traveling tactician interested in improving their skills.

Kiran, however, has no such motivation specified. They were summoned, and they’ve been fighting in this gacha game since 2017.

In fact, Kiran is a major anomaly. For one, they are a (initially) faceless, hooded entity who directs the heroes in battle, whom the game refers to as us, the player. This seems rather odd considering contemporary Fire Emblem’s avatars are given their own personality and goals, even if they are as quiet as Byleth or as chatty as Robin and Corrin.

But if we were to play this description straight, Kiran would then be any one of us with knowledge of the Fire Emblem universe, ranging from little to obsessively extensive. Also, more importantly, perhaps overly invasive to certain characters and their lives, as knowing would mean that we are keenly aware of how characters suffer in their arcs and go through their own respective journeys.

If we also assume that such a person, upon arrival in Askr, were to see a new set of faces, one of whom is a prince with blue hair with a sister and a kingdom facing a crisis — what’s to say that such a person wouldn’t immediately assume they were in a Fire Emblem universe? What’s to say they wouldn’t immediately be aware of cliches such as masked characters being suspiciously important, and how parents of FE lords would die? What’s to say they wouldn’t, like all Fire Emblem players, recognize that without their intervention, this Blue Haired protagonist would stand no chance?

Would they immediately recognize the need to follow Alfonse, the protagonist of this Fire Emblem, and see through his story, despite being a complete stranger to him? That this person would aid his Kingdom, which would be doomed otherwise without intervention?

The answer I’ve come to is absolutely, yes. A person who has played even a few Fire Emblem entries, no matter their actual name, would jump at the call.

Indeed, transplanting a person like this into the Fire Emblem universe immediately makes them supernatural, as these sort of awareness is only reserved for higher beings such as Angels and Heavenly Beings.

Which, interestingly, Kiran might be.

There are a myriad of deities in Buddhist cosmology, but I’ll be focusing on the Eight Legions for now. The above chart is pulled from this Wikipedia page, and I’d like to talk about the first two. First being the Tenbu/Devas, and also ask that you keep two, Ryu/Naga in the back of your mind for the time being.

I’ll also be referring to everything from this point by their Sanskrit names and come back to Japanese later. Also as a disclaimer, Buddhism has spread so far throughout Asia that there are bound to be nuances and different school of thoughts and interpretations. To talk about each variation in depth would be a whole other topic about geography and history, so please forgive me if I seem to touch and go at points. For those who wish to learn about Buddhism, here’s a 18 minute detour to Religion For Breakfast’s introductory video on the subject.

Deva

Source: https://www.onmarkproductions.com/html/hachi-bushu.shtml

Note that this depiction has a lens of Japanese Buddhism, which may differ from Buddhism found elsewhere outside of Japan. (Ie some regions do not actually worship Devas or even Buddhas.)

Devas are a class of beings which are born after accumulating an immense amount of good merit/karma in their previous life, and they reside in the heavenly realms, living immeasurably long yet comfortable lives. They are still on the path to break out of the cycle of death and rebirth, or samsara, and so therefore are not revered or worshiped as much as one would a Buddha. Devas can be further divided up into higher and lower groups, where the middle to lower ones may be able to look into the realms below out of interest, and communicate with each other in their same group. Devas almost never interact with the lower worlds, though they are said to maybe offer counsel indirectly.

Notably, however, Devas are mortal, and the lower ones even eat or drink as well. They are able to fall into vices, and in this sense, Devas of the lower group are no different from an average human.

In fact, there is a theory in Buddhism which postulates that all humans here on earth are Devas as well, but lost the supernatural abilities to glow and fly across the skies.

Applying this to Kiran, they curiously fit this to an astonishing degree if we assume they are indeed any one of us transported into the world of Heroes. It all fits — they would be a bit supernatural, yet killable as evidenced by Lif — an alternate Alfonse— ’s dead summoner. They would also be watching down from the heavens in any Fire Emblem games across different worlds and time. Our visual feedback of the battlefield is precisely that of being viewed from the skies.

Additionally, Devas also are said to shine, and Kiran’s name which also happens to be rooted in the same Sanskirt language, means to shine. On top of that, Kiran has been depicted in this official April Fools video, titled Fire Emblem Heroes — Lonely Puppeteer (Spring Remix), to be on top a lotus, which carries strong implications in Buddhism.

Lotuses signifies enlightenment, among many other good things such as fortune, purity, and the like. More importantly however, Buddhas are often depicted to be seated on their lotus thrones in Buddhist religious art. This depiction can be seen all over Asia, and it’s by no means an insignificant symbology.

While Lonely Puppeteer, the music video, is a visually fun treat, it raises the question of why the director specifically chose to have Kiran ripping on their tambourine on a floating lotus of all things. But, ah, those funny Japanese devs, right? ...Yes.

If at this point any of this sounds of crazy fan theory, I want to stress this again: Fire Emblem is a game made by Japanese people.

Fire Emblem has been a series of games telling a western story, made by Japanese people. Further examining FEH with this lens has merit, and the crack I’ve opened with Kiran will hopefully help illuminate the many other themes scattered throughout Heroes’ visual and textual design that ties into reinforcing this possible Buddhism cosmology. I hope everything still makes sense thus far.

Onward to the visual concepts.

So far I have spoken of Kiran in their faceless portrayal, but that was no longer the case as of patch 5.2. They now have 4 feminine and 4 masculine portraits, and adding their faceless version it totals 9 possible choices for the player to select. But out of all these, there are two darker skinned versions, one masculine and one feminine.

On a surface level these might seem like a move to welcome diversity, but personally I couldn’t help but feel their skin color and the the golden circlet reminds me more of India in a soft sense. It is not uncommon to find Indian brides dressed in traditional garments with lots of gold incorporated into their outfit. In fact, I’ve often seen Indian women dressed even casually wearing gold. Specifically, gold circlets, or head pieces, and gold bracelets are an especially common sight.

India is the birthplace of Buddhism and Hinduism. To sidetrack a bit as this will be important: these two religion share many similar Gods, but are actually very different. For one, Buddhist do not worship Gods, whereas Hindus do. Buddhist do not have rituals, but Hindus do.*

This may seem a bit confusing, because it may seem Buddhists worship Buddha, but in truth Buddhist venerate Buddha’s teachings. In fact, Buddha is a title for those who have broken out of samsara rather than a name of a specific deity. The depiction of Buddhas are therefore a reminder to practitioners to accumulate good karma for their next life.*

*Side note: As said before, current day Buddhism is varied and mixed into local culture and religion, resulting in rituals or worship in some parts. It’s a widespread religion with varied practices, interpretations and understanding.

Back on the topic of Kiran’s depiction: These two specific artwork helps tie them deeper to two characters who later appear in Book 6. For those wary of spoilers, this is your chance to turn back now.

In Heroes, there are two nations at war, one named Askr, the other Embla. These two nations are named after their patron deities who share the same name. Said deities also have their respective retainers, named Ash and Elm.

Askr and Ash

On the left is Askr and on the right is Ash. Sourced from https://fireemblem.fandom.com/wiki/

Askr and Ash both are somewhat dark skinned and have cow like attributes in their visual design. Going back once more to Kiran’s darker skinned variations, the visual theming is striking. They are all dressed in white and have golden accents decorating their entire body. On closer inspection, both Askr and Ash are accessorized in gold as well — both of them wear gold earrings, and Ash has golden armbands.

However, Askr and Ash oddly buckles the common trend of Gods being dragons in Fire Emblem. Their transformed forms are cows, which is a very odd design choice for those who are not familiar with eastern religion and mythologies.

Except, if I go back to the point of India and Hinduism, there is one lens where this visual design makes sense.

See, cows are protected and venerated creatures in Hinduism. It is prohibited to cull cows in India, and consuming beef is a serious taboo. Outside, the consumption of beef is an explicit taboo for some Buddhist sects (who may not commit to the same degree of strict vegetarian diet), as it is rooted in a similar view in their text how how cows represents all living being.

The Hindus associate cows with Mother Earth due to the nourishment they provide. Additionally, their Gods are said to have sometimes taken the form of cows, and as such they became sacred, venerated, adored creatures. There are other more in depth reasons but explaining them would be a detour, so please excuse me as I link this article which may explain the specifics more in depth in place.

In fact, refer to this above image and contrast it with Askr and Ash’s transformed forms. The similarity is uncanny. They are all white cows with golden accessories and similar looking horns, which is unlike the breeds commonly kept in farms for eventual consumption.

One final thing to note before moving on: Askr’s forehead has a blue glowing design highlighted by gold which forms an eye, a Third Eye. Third Eyes are said to let the user perceive things beyond normal sight. They symbolize enlightenment/awakening, and in Hinduism (Ajna) specifically lets the user receive messages from past and future both. Outside, there is a belief in Asia that the Third Eye grants the user to see beyond one’s reality and the world.

If this means Askr knew of our reality, of if there is some power associated with that eye remains to be seen, but the choice for him to be designed with it has interesting implications both in-lore and meta.

Thus from this lens, the choice seem to make some sense. The next two, however, seem less straightforward with their visual inspiration.

Embla and Elm

On the left is Embla and on the right is Elm. Sourced from https://fireemblem.fandom.com/wiki/

Embla is the patron deity of her nation, Embla. Her retainer, Elm, shares with her similar bat design elements with their ears and cape. Their spear, pale skin and lean body types are a clear shout out to Dracula, and overall it is very western rooted.

While bats do not have a deity representation or are worshiped in either religion, they are seen as a harbinger of death in Norse Mythology. Yet, even in Norse, there exists no deities associated with bats. These two seem very out of place then, because aside from being associated with the darkness, the theming is off. This link is too weak in comparison.

Except, there is a connection to Buddhism, albeit loose. It’s caves.

See, in many parts of Asia, Buddhists have turned caves into refuges and shrines. Indeed, it is not uncommon to see various Buddhist artwork carved into the stones, and even have some of them be turned into shrines and monasteries high up in the mountains. Especially along the silk road, there lies many such caves spreading from India to China, which is how the religion spread into the rest of Asia. There’s an article on it here.

And it wasn’t just Buddhas which were depicted. The Buddhist hell, a place where one goes to after death to burn off their bad karma, have caves completely dedicated to showing the pain and torture methods employed for the process. It is… gruesome to say the least, but there is one such cave named the Am Phu Cave, located in Vietnam which you may watch, linked here below.

So again, this is a loose theory, but with this lens the theming makes sense.

Other small things lending to this lens: The Heroes bits

Interestingly, there are rare points where Kiran is given characteristics in game. Starting in Book 1, where Kiran directly stops Alfonse from killing Zacharias. If you remember my point about masked characters being suspicious, this actions makes total sense.

Book 4

In book 4, they become Alfonse in the dream realm. Two strange things happens in this book, which is dismissed by many for resembling a filler.

First, Peony remarks how the World of Steel, the world which they come from, has its denizens give up their dreams in order to live a comfortable life. One of the descriptions for a Deva is that they live incredibly long yet comfortable lives. This is true in the sense that many of our modern day comforts outmatches what that of even Kings and Queens may attain in medieval eras.

Second, after realizing that Kiran has been dreaming of themselves being Alfonse, Freya ramps up her taunts, daring Kiran on how cutting her down would mean for them to wake up in a reality where Alfonse has been slain by Alfador. Despite not knowing she was bluffing, Kiran in response wordlessly ends her in order to wake up to reality, to continue fighting for Askr/Alfonse again.

This jumps out to me as this is the first time Alfador/Odin of the Norse Mythology has been mentioned directly to Kiran, yet we players immediately understand the implications, especially after taking down Surtr and knowing of Loki and Thor’s existence, all important deities in Norse Mythology. Additionally, I could tie this back to following the Blue Haired Lord rule of Fire Emblem.

Then, there is Book 5.

Eitri seems interested in summoning otherworldly people, but not just any otherworldly people. She wants Kiran, and later kidnaps them in an attempt to conduct research on, implying that their existence is special. This, despite her successfully summoned multiple people including Fafnir, who lost his memories and ended up King of Niðavellir after helping to stage a revolution, after its dynasty has been rendered corrupted enough to make life for its people difficult.

This is a straight up echo of the Mandate of Heaven idea. Note that this idea isn’t strictly Buddhist, but rather Confucius, though it has to be mentioned for the next part to make sense.

Fafnir is an interesting foil, because in his ambition to take the crown, he ends up losing his mind and himself, and turns into a dragon to be put down by the Heroes. Kiran never does any coup d’etat and seems loyal to Alfonse in contrast, does not lose their memories and is seemingly absent of any throne taking ambition. In short, in this theory, they recognize Alfonse to be the protagonist and is committed to guiding him.

Plus, if Kiran is a heavenly being, then they represent the Mandate of Heaven, which Alfonse has. Lif by contrast, would have lost his.

Other small things lending to this lens: Zenith

Curiously, the world of Heroes as our protagonists reside in are rarely, if ever, referred to as Midgard, the realm of mortals in Norse Mythology. Instead, it is referred to as Zenith, or 至天(shiten) in Japanese. These two words are interesting choices. Zenith in astrology terms refers to the point in the sky or celestial sphere directly above an observer. Shiten 至天 is not a proper Japanese term as far as I can tell, but it seems to be a play on the word, Solstice 至点 (shiten), replacing the kanji for point点 with 天skies. Solstice referring to the minimum or maximum declination of the sun.

In short, both Zenith and Shiten 至天 can be interpreted here as the land closest towards the skies/heavens.

Would this then add to the lens of Kiran being a heavenly being called down in the context of Fire Emblem Heroes? I think, yes, very heavily so.

And now let’s go back to a certain term that I’ve not explained yet. Let’s talk about the Eight Legions again, but now about Naga.

The outside of Heroes bits — Awakening.

Nagas are called Ryuu 龍 in Japanese, which are also known as dragons, an important mythical creature associated with Kings in China and Japan. Witnessing them means to have the Mandate of Heaven.

There is one specific character who appears multiple times in Fire Emblem named Naga as well. She is known as a Divine Dragon, is seen as a God and has been humanity’s benevolent guide, aiding the heroes over and over. She’s exclusive to the games taking place in Arcahnea, and there are other Divine Dragons of different names in other series.

As a bonus, all protagonist who are essentially blessed by her eventually become great rulers of their domain. Marth, Chrom, and probably a dozen other protagonist fit this.

Interestingly, she also shares similarity with Buddha, or rather, holding the title of Buddha. Naga is actually a title passed down, as seen in Fire Emblem Awakening’s Future Past DLC, where Tiki becomes the new Naga after she is slain.

She has beaten back the forces threatening the lives of mortals across 5000 years in Arcahnea time and time again. Naga bestows weapons to her chosen heroes, makes bloodline pacts and watches through their eyes. Unlike Kiran however, she is immensely powerful herself. It can also be argued that Kiran imbues weapons with additional power rather than grant them, and so the connection and comparison here is not as obvious at a glance.

Which then also ties into the next two Awakening characters I'd like to talk about.

Robin and Grima.

Or rather, Robin, Grima and Kiran.

In Awakening, Robin serves as our avatar. Robin is a blank slate initially, but as stated before, they speak and stick with the cast of that game as they have lost their memories and therefore has nowhere to go. In time, Grima appears and we learn that Robin has been bred into existence by the Grimleals, the cult worshiping Grima, to possess their body in order to plunge the world into despair.

At one point, Grima tries to take over Robin’s body, which if successful would mean that as the player, we would no longer be able to play as Robin. Therefore, I reasoned even back in 2013 that Grima seems to be an anti-player character, though as a fun thought.

But in this sense, Robin serves as an avatar for both the player — or rather — Kiran, and Grima.

To further connect this, in Japanese, their names are ルフレ(rufure), ギムレー(gimure), and エクラ(ekura). Translating these phonetically yields Reflet, Gimlé, and Eclat.

Reflet refers to metallic brilliance, such as on an object like metal or ceramics, i.e reflectivity of the surface. It means reflection in French.

Gimlé is said to be a place where the worthy survivors of Ragnarok are foretold to live, the most beautiful place in Asgard, a place more beautiful than the sun.

Eclat refers to luster, brilliance, glory etc. The clap of a thunder, something akin to a burst. It’s also a French word interestingly.

In a sense then, I could say when Grima is in control, the world teeters on the brink of annihilation due to how Grima in lore is seen by their cult to be the god of death and ruin. When we are in control instead, we beat Grima out of existence either temporarily or permanently, then leaving Robin to live their life.

This is fitting if you think of Eclat as something transient, and Gimlé as something more enduring.

If we approach this from the lens of Norse Mythology, there is also Breidablik, the name of Kiran’s divine weapon. Breidablik is a place said to belong to Baldr, and it is the cleanest hall in Asgard. By theme, it is barely linked to Gimlé unless we consider how the murder of Baldr is the trigger to Ragnarok.

The strength of this link really depends on how strongly one views the directness or indirectness of their theming, but this is interesting to note considering Awakening was conceived as a last hurrah, seemingly asking us, the audience, if the series was worth continuing and letting us decide both in-lore and meta. It is not too unreasonable to say that the concept of Kiran existed in some form during the development of Awakening.

Even on a visual level, it seems like Kiran’s design is an intentional copy of Robin/Grima’s outfit.

But connections run yet another a layer deeper between Grima and Kiran.

One is malevolent, the other benevolent. One is artificial (see: Shadows Of Valentia’s post game), the other natural. One is immortal, the other mortal. One watches (supposedly) with 6 eyes, the other watches with a myriad of eyes as there are a myriad of them. Both control a whole army of units which can be replenished and increased, only one is filled with the undead and the other is alive.

This aspect between them is too much of a coincidence to dismiss.

The hand of Gods

If I still haven’t convinced you, the reader, the validity of this silent Buddhist cosmology theory, then perhaps this will.

Enter Kouhei Maeda.

I unfortunately do not know too much about Kouhei Maeda and will probably need to read interviews to get a good grasp of what he has been doing specifically. But this guy has been with Intelligent Systems and the development of Fire Emblem since 2001. To be given the director role is to have the ultimate say in what goes and what doesn’t. He has been both(!) the director and (one of the many) writer of Fire Emblem: Awakening and Fire Emblem: Heroes, on top of being one of multiple scenario writers in other projects starting from The Binding Blade.

Kouhei Maeda has been a consistent presence throughout all these projects for this lens to work so well. At this point I find it difficult to shake off this feeling, with all my thoughts, that I’ve been played.

The non-Heroes entries I’ve mentioned here are The Blazing Blade and Awakening. From The Blazing Blade, Lyn often requests for Kiran to stay behind her, in the same fashion as she did with Mark, the avatar of that game. From Awakening, Robin mentions how Kiran feels familiar.

Lyn and Robin's voice lines respectively

There are also more lines from characters such as Kris, specifically the Plegian version, Thor, Loki, Naga herself, and many many more out there which calls into Kiran’s familiarity, uniqueness or peculiarity into question. Every units which are classified as Gods in their original games also treat Kiran as an equal, though many would play this off as a joke as it seems like shallow fan service on its own.

Outside of Heroes, there still remains many remnants that points towards this idea, such as Tharja/Rhajat's behavior towards the avatar of both Awakening and Fates, as if the writers have been coyly poking at the audience through this lens.

As of writing, the game has just only concluded Book 6. I suspect Kiran’s role is to mess with the prophecy of Ragnarok and kill Alfador/Odin, who is aware of this anomaly transplanted from Buddhism.

Regardless, this is about as much as I have gathered to speak on the underlying cosmology and Kiran’s function in Fire Emblem Heroes. To go on more would be to really squeeze water from a rock at this point. While half of this seems like insane fan theory, the occasional weirdness from Fire Emblem Heroes exists, and I suspect it will pop up again for as long as the game continues its service.

Thank you for reaching the end point, and I hope this was an interesting read!

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 3 ] || [ Chapter 5 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.6K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 4: John?

The lads sat in the common room of their floor at the base. Gaz and Soap had just finished a round of Gran Turismo on the PS4 they had set up, while Ghost sat at a table in the corner on his work laptop.

“Ye think the Captain’s married?” Soap mused aloud once he set down his controller on the coffee table.

“What kind of question-” Gaz quipped in confusion as he turned to look at Soap.

“He never talks about a missus Price...” Soap explained. “or second mister…” He added.

“That’s not a question you want the answer to.” Ghost said in a dismissive tone from his corner.

“Why not L.T.?” The Scot grumbled.

“People’s lives are private for a reason, Johnny.” Ghost said with a shrug and a tired look.

“Ye, but the Captain’s not like you, L.T.” Soap retorted with a chuckle.

“If anything, he’s worse, Johnny.” Gaz remarked as he looked at the two other men. “Simon’s reserved but Captain Price is pretty open.... except for that side of his.”

Soap went silent for a long moment, seeming to ponder what the other two were saying.

Then, the Scot shook his head. “If he was married, he’d be easier to deal with, I reckon.” He grumbled.  “And I think I’ve heard of him going out and getting laid before.” He added. “Last year, especially.”

“You’ve heard that too?” Gaz asked as he bounced a bit in his seat and straightened up, intrigued. “Fuckin’ hell, I thought it was just me. I’ve been dying trying to keep my mouth shut about it!” Gaz added.

“So d’ye think he hasn’t gotten laid lately, then?” Soap asked. “He’s been bloody moody since early last year with Shepherd and Graves…” He added.

“Oh, he definitely has a major case of blue balls.” Ghost remarked, drawing both the other men’s attention to him and causing their jaws to drop.

“L.T.!” Soap said with a surprised chuckle. “That’s bad of you! You’re not being the Captain’s good ol’ boy…” He joked.

“Oh, piss off. Just saying. It’s obvious the boss’ pent up.” Ghost remarked. 

“I say we get him laid.” Soap remarked with an impish expression.

“And how do you suggest we do that? We hire him a prostitute?” Gaz asked with raised brows.

“No? Obviously not!” Soap said with a head shake. 

“Good, can’t imagine the Captain appreciating that very much.” Gaz added.

“No, but we’ve gotta think of something! He’s impossible to deal with.” Soap remarked.

“I’ve told ‘im to his face and he asn’t done shit to fix it yet.” Ghost remarked from the corner.

“You’re kiddin’? L.T. you told him to get laid?!” Soap gasped in surprise.

“No, I’ve told ‘im to get ‘is ‘ead on straight.” The Mancunian quipped and shrugged, turning his attention back to the laptop in front of him.

“What about a dating app profile?” Gaz suggested and the Mancunian and the Scot both turned to look at Gaz with intrigued eyes.

“I’m getting my spare phone!” Soap announced as he got up and rushed out of the room.

“He has a second phone?” Gaz asked Ghost who simply shrugged.

-

It took almost an hour and a half and a few beers in their systems (thank God they were on break for the evening), but eventually tey had set up a fake profile for Price.

Sure, the pictures were grainy at best, but they worked well-enough. Courtesy of Soap having a habit of taking covert pictures for his snapchat and sometimes catching Price in them... (and other times just taking pictures of the man directly).

It had been mostly Soap and Gaz doing the work, however when it came down to writing the bio, Ghost gave quite the helpful input… By the time they were done, it genuinely looked like it had been Price writing it.

The lads high-fived each other. Even Ghost joined in! He looked to be in a good mood… Maybe it was the beer, or maybe something he was doing on his phone. Gaz had spotted him texting someone and chuckling to himself.

As Soap began swiping mindlessly across all the pictures of people on the Swiping page, Gaz sat next to him, peeking over his shoulder.

“People are going to read the part on the bio that says we are not Price, right? Because I don’t want ‘em to feel like we’re catfishing.” Gaz remarked.

“Don’t worry! If they don’t, we’ll unmatch!” Soap announced as he kept moving his finger repeatedly and quickly to the right. He was liking everyone, in order to get a fairly good sample size for Price. They didn’t know what kind of person the Captain liked after all…

Just as Soap’s finger is slowing down due to the amounts of profiles he liked… He spots it. And then Gaz does.

“No way!” Soap interjects. “I know this person! I matched with them on my own account!” He remarks as he clicks on your profile.

“Bloody hell, me too.” Gaz remarks, causing Soap’s head to turn and his jaw to drop.

“Wait, ye’ve got a Tinder too?” Soap asks to which Gaz nods.

“Yeah, to get laid.” He says with a shrug and a mischievous smirk. “Our chat was bloody funny.”

“Mine too!” Soap quips and chuckles. “Had a right laugh with them earlier.”

“Let me see?” Ghost asks, curious, and he slides over, bending over the back of the couch to look over Soap’s other shoulder.

“Small world. They matched with me too.” He remarks dismissively.

Both Gaz and Soap turn to look at Ghost like they’ve seen, well, a ghost.

“YE’VE GOT AN ACCOUNT TOO, L.T.?!” Soap shrieks, louder and more high-pitched than a grown man with his natural timber should.

“I’ve got a life, MacTavish.” Ghost retorts.

“No, we know that, sir.” Gaz says softly. 

“Just didn’t think ye’d be on dating apps.” Soap nods.

Ghost simply shrugs and pulls back, walking back to his corner, in an armchair which he took as his own in the last hour.

“Was that who was makin’ you laugh earlier, Simon?” Gaz adds.

Ghost simply gives him a look that can be interpreted as a tired ‘Yes’, before he looks away to keep working on his laptop.

“Should we Like their profile, then?” Soap asks with a chuckle.

“Uh… yes?” Gaz adds, laughing along. “I can’t wait to see their reaction to it being us behind the screen.” He adds.

Soap clicks the green heart button to Like your profile and then immediately hops on DM once it presents a Match. Before he can write some nonsense, Gaz steals the phone from his hand and starts typing on the cracked screen.

John: well hello again you: hello? you: how can it be again though? you: never saw your 'captain' before in my life. John: no but uve seen US John: sorry! allow us to introduce ourselves formally

“Sir, does your profile have you listed as Simon?” Gaz asked as he raised his eyes from the screen. Once Simon nodded, he resumed typing.

John: our names are kyle john and simon

“Johnny, not John, mate.” Soap corrected Gaz right after he hit send.

John: johnny* sorry

They could only imagine the look on your pretty face as you realized who they were.

you: get out! you: no way!!!!! you: all three of you?! John: ye you: wait is this what simon meant when he called himself a traveling consultant? is he a soldier like you?

“L.T. they’re already accusing ye of lying to them.” Soap quips, causing Ghost’s eyes to shoot up from his laptop.

“Lying? Huh?!” He asks in confusion as he puts his laptop aside and rushes over to the couch. He sits on the armrest next to Gaz so he can look at the screen.

He then snatches the phone from Gaz’s hand, pulls off his right glove, and types a reply with now bare fingers on the cracked screen. 

John: I wasn’t lying. John: I just omitted the truth. I don’t go about bragging about my career. you: sure sure sure ‘John’. you: sooo you: is this some kind of weird joke? are you playing a prank on me all matching me individually and then using a fake account?

Gaz snatched the phone from Ghost again.

John: kyle here and no John: we really want our boss to get laid John: he’s miserable you: well im not the one night stand type really you: its why i didnt accept to get together with any of you.

“L.T. YOU TRIED TO SLEEP WITH THEM?!” Johnny asked with another gasp.

“So did you!” Ghost retorted.

“I never thought you were the type!” Soap said with a smug little smirk on his lips.

“Oh piss off, they rejected us all.” Ghost retorted. “So it shouldn’t matter.”

As they kept bickering, Gaz remained laser-focused on texting you and, just as they got heated, he spoke up: “They accepted.”

“Wait wha-” Soap said as he whipped his head down to look at the screen, just narrowly dodging Gaz’s nose and Ghost’s head.

“Bloody hell they did!” Soap yelped as he pulled his head back.

“They wanna go out with Price and ‘see where it goes because he seems like a nice man that needs a break from the three of you’?” Ghost read from the DMs on the screen.

“Ow.” Soap quipped in mock-injury.

The three men raised their eyes and met each other’s, before all their faces morphed into confusion.

“Did they… Did they just reject all three of us for a man that isn’t even aware of this account?” Soap asked aloud, undoubtedly voicing the thoughts in all their minds.

“It seems that way.” Simon said as he looked away.

They all went quiet, each of them quietly contemplating all their life’s choices that led them to the moment they got rejected for a person that isn’t even ‘real’.

After long minutes, Gaz spoke up. “How are we going to tell the Captain he has a date?”

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[stevie-petey]

episode six: the spy

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows.  “Shit…” “You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.” Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 

Summary: dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.

Rating: general, violence and swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence and swearing, blood mention and ptsd mention, weapons, fire, probably more

Words: 17.1k (i fear how much longer these next few chapters become)

Before you swing in: its here !!! god, this chapter was ROUGH. the conversations between bug and steve took many rewrites and editing. i wanted to get it just right, and finally i think im satisfied with where they landed. bug and steve aside, i absolutely loved writing this chapter with the kids. i sincerely hope you guys enjoy, this chapter took blood, sweat, n tears lmao

-

You’re the first to break the silence as you all stare at the hole Dart created in the wall in shock.

An obnoxiously loud yawn escapes your lips, and Dustin and Steve shoot you simultaneous weird glances. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry… It’s been a long day.”

Steve huffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Dustin clears his throat before standing up. He wipes off some dirt that got on his jeans and then offers you his hand so that he can pull you up as well. You accept it and stand, your bones a deep, weary type of heavy that only comes from pure exhaustion. 

“Okay,” Dustin begins, and you can already see a plan forming in his mind. “Steve, you’ll spend the night here so that way we can all get up bright and early to start our search for Dart.” 

Steve attempts to argue, but Dustin puts his hand up to shush him and continues with his speech. The older boy throws his hands up in the air and gives you a look of disbelief over your brother’s antics. You stifle a laugh, which he only rolls his eyes at. Steve, whether he likes it or not, will have to get used to Dustin’s… Dustin-ness.

“If he escaped through the tunnel, then we have to assume that there’s an opening somewhere above ground.” Dustin finishes. 

You nod your head slowly, still unconvinced. “Okay, but how do we find him? Better yet, what happens when we do? It took Nancy with a shotgun, my knives, Steve’s batting skills, a ton of fire, and almost dying a bunch of times to take down the Demogorgon.” 

Dustin lets out a tired sigh. “I’ll figure it all out, alright? For now, let’s just get some sleep. Maybe it’ll come to me in a dream or something.” 

“A dream? Seriously?” Steve looks at the two of you as if you guys will start laughing and tell him it’s all a giant joke. Unfortunately, it isn’t. 

Steve spent all last year and most of the summer getting to know you. He’s used to your quips and soft spoken teasing, but Dustin? He’s uncharted territory and you’re secretly relishing in seeing Steve fumble around him. You’ve never had anyone else interact with your brother before, only Jonathan, so this change is odd, but welcomed. 

Dustin pays no attention to you and Steve as he begins heading up the steps, back to your home. Once he disappears, you nudge your shoulder against Steve’s. “You know you don’t actually have to spend the night, right?”

“Ya know, I can’t quite tell if the kid will let me leave or not.”

You laugh. “He’s harmless… Mostly. I promise I won’t let him bite, but I also understand if you want to leave.”

Steve looks away, sensing the undertones of what you’re saying. You’re giving him another out, one last chance to leave and go back to pretending like everything's okay. You wouldn’t blame him, and you get a sense of deja-vu from that night at Jonathan’s. When you tried coaxing Steve to leave, to spare himself from everything he inevitably ended up suffering from. 

After a minute or so, Steve shakes his head. “I’ll stay. You need my help.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say need–”

“Shut up and let me help you, Y/N.”

You sigh. There’s no arguing with him, he’s made up his mind and your truce that you shook on ten minutes ago burns your hand. He’s staying. 

“A ‘please’ would’ve sufficed, but fine.” You link your arm around Steve’s and make your way up the cellar steps. “C’mon, Dustin is probably waiting for us with some new insane plan for where you’ll sleep.”

– 

You know that your mom is safe, off at the other side of town, searching for your dead cat, but it’s still lonely walking into your empty home. Dustin is standing in the living room waiting, but you can see that it makes him uneasy as well. 

Steve follows behind you and takes a look around. When he spots the lumpy, old, sagging couch in front of the window, he frowns. It’s barely bigger than he is, his feet would definitely hang over the edge. “This my bed for tonight?”

“It’ll have to be, unless you want to come snuggle with me in my bed.” Dustin says. 

“I wouldn’t, he kicks in his sleep,” you tell Steve, attempting to make light of the situation. 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he snorts. Then, as if he’s done this a million times before, Steve flings himself onto your couch and his feet do indeed hang over the edge. “Oh, yeah. This will definitely be cozy.”

You wince. “I’m sorry, you’re still free to go home. I completely understand and–”

“Unless…” Dustin begins to brighten up and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Pure horror washes over you; you know that look on his face. He’s scheming. 

“Dustin, whatever is about to come out of your mouth–”

“Y/N has this giant bean bag in her room. Practically takes up the whole space, and, luckily for you, my new friend, it’s Steve-sized.”

Steve whips his head to face you, a curious look on his face. “You don’t say, Little Henderson?”

Both boys look at you, a matching glint of evil in their eyes, and you realize you’re trapped. When did they manage to sync up to make you miserable?

You weigh your options against your morals. On one hand, it’s your room and you and Steve are still warming back up to each other. However, on the other hand, Jonathan has spent countless nights on that bean bag himself. 

Dustin’s right. Steve would fit perfectly. 

Damn him. 

You shuffle your feet, averting Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I guess you’d fit.” 

“You guess? Steve, she’s had Jonathan sleep on that thing like a bajillion times.” Dustin waves his arms out, gleeful that he’s won. “In fact, I think our mom specifically bought it just for him.”

He now steps closer to Steve and eyes him up and down. “I’d bet money that you two are about the same size, so as I stated earlier: it’s Steve-sized.”

“I’m actually taller than him, so…” Steve mumbles to no one in particular, but quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. “And I’d finally be able to see Y/N Henderson’s room? Count me in.”

You blush furiously. He’s getting a kick out of all of this and he’s such a little shit, honestly. You’re not sure why the thought of having Steve Harrington in your room, eager to be in your room, makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks burn painfully. 

Steve sees your blush and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“You’re far too pleased about all of this.”

“We can pretend to be back at Bookstrordinary. I’ll even stack some books that you definitely have in your room.”

Dustin stands between you and Steve, his face alight with joy and curiosity. “Can I please know when you two became best friends?”

“No, you hid Dart from me.”

“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Steve clears his throat, clearly amused by your banter with Dustin but still unsure about everything going on. “So… What do ya say, Y/N?”

You bite your lip and look at him. He’s pathetically too large for the couch, it wouldn’t be fair to just force him to sleep there because of the weird way he makes you feel as if you’re floating yet falling all at the same time. 

Exhaling, you give in. “Fine, but do not touch any of my books in the room.”

“Yes!” Steve high fives Dustin and you roll your eyes at them both. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It’s late, can we please just go to bed now?”

Dustin sends you a wink, which thankfully Steve doesn’t see. “Sure, sis. Have a good night.”

And with that, probably because he senses you’re about to throw a shoe at him, Dustin flees the living room and runs to his room. As soon as he’s gone, Steve bats his eyelashes at you and playfully teases, “Take me to bed, Y/N.”

You snort, despite how exhausted you are. “Never say those words to me again.”

He laughs and stands up, following behind you as you guide him towards your own room. A part of you feels like you should give him a house tour, but logistically it’d be useless. You can’t imagine that Steve would be over at your house again once the Dart situation is handled. 

You have to remind yourself that there are still roses for Nancy, currently wilting, in the backseat of Steve’s car. 

They’ll work things out eventually, or maybe they won’t, but Nancy Wheeler still has Steve Harrington’s heart. He is her’s entirely. 

Lost in thought, you almost miss the turn to your room and have to grab the back of Steve’s jacket and yank him towards your bedroom door. 

“Hey–” 

“Sorry, my room is here.” 

“You Hendersons are just a delightful bunch, ya know that?” 

“Be thankful you don’t have to meet our mother, honestly.” You fling your bedroom door open and gently push Steve inside. 

As soon as he’s in your room, you watch as he takes it all in. His eyes scan every corner of the room, and you hold your breath as you wait for them to land on the Spider-Man poster he gave you for Christmas last year. 

When Steve sees it, he smiles shyly at you. “I see you kept the gift.”

“Duh,” you walk over to your bed and sit down. “Still one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given.”

“One of?” He asks, tone light but curious. 

Unconsciously, your fingers go to your bee necklace from Jonathan. You play with the pendant and smile softly. “Sorry, Jonathan kinda beat you to it.”

“I figured,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable. “I noticed the necklace the day I gave you the poster. Didn’t want to, uh, assume. I guess. But the necklace was from him?”

“It was,” you clear your throat, talking about Jonathan with Steve has always been such a foreign feeling for you. 

Steve seems to be thinking the same thing and starts to wander around your room instead. You silently thank whatever god is up there for giving you the motivation to clean your room earlier that week. Normally you’re a neat person, but ever since Will started showing signs of post-traumatic stress, you’ve spent more time obsessively researching rather than tidying up.

Therefore, there’s still books strewn across your desk alongside some comics. Steve sees a Spidey one and holds it up with a laugh. “He’s everywhere.”

“He is.” You say proudly, now getting up to go into your closet to pull out the blankets and pillows usually reserved for Jonathan.

Steve wanders around some more as you dig through your closet. He lingers in front of your dresser, which holds photos of you, Dustin, and Jonathan. 

“Here,” you hand the bedding to Steve and motion to where the bean bag is. 

He looks up from a photo of you and Jonathan from last year. It’s your favorite of the two of you, he stands behind you in the picture with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. You’re both smiling widely at the camera, the moment captured by Will because he wanted to try out the camera Jonathan had gotten that summer. 

“You guys are really close, huh?” Steve asks.

You nod, although confused by his question. He spent half the summer with you and Jonathan at your job. You had conversations about your friendship together, but you suppose it’s different seeing the excess of love you have for the boy within your room. Jonathan is everywhere, if you look hard enough, you’ll find him. 

Steve pauses for a second, as if he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and turns towards the bean bag. He arranges the pillows so that they’re flush against the wall facing your bed, which you think is an odd choice, but say nothing. Once he’s arranged the pillows and blankets, Steve turns to you and clears his throat. 

“I hate to ask this, I really do, but I also don’t want to sleep in these jeans,” he waves his hands over his pants, which have always been a bit tighter than you thought was necessary. “Any chance I could wear something of Jonathan’s?”

You think for a moment and dig through your dresser. “I’m not sure, but if I can’t find anything of his then I think my old camp t-shirt can fit. As for pants, won’t your boxers work fine?”

Steve’s face turns red and he clears his throat once more, speaking in a slightly squeaky voice, “Y–yeah, I guess so.”

He’s stumbling over his words, which makes you pause. There’s no possible way that he’s nervous right now. He’s usually so confident and comfortable around you. Hell, last summer he offered to be your first kiss (by kissing his fingers and pressing them against your lips, but still). 

“Are you shy right now, Steve?”

“What? No!” He scrambles to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between the two of you as he can. 

You raise your eyebrows at him, but your cheeks are flushed as well. “Okay then, whatever you say.” 

It’s painfully quiet after that as you continue looking for something for Steve to wear. You swear that Jonathan has left behind some of his things, and right before you lose hope, you spot a pair of gray sweats and an old The Clash t-shirt of his. 

“Here,” you toss the clothes to Steve without even checking if he’s looking. You hear a crash and know that he, in fact, had not been looking. 

“Gee, thanks.” He says sarcastically, but you giggle. 

“No problem,” you begin to gather your own pajamas before pointing towards your door. “There’s a bathroom to the left, down the hall. You can change there.” 

“Then our sleepover can commence?”

You wave him off, but you smile anyway at his question. You missed his boyish charms. “Sure, buddy. Go change.”

Steve salutes you and then leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him. You change while he’s gone and tie your hair up. After a few minutes, you assume Steve has had enough time to change and make your way over to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’re so excited to go to bed. 

However, the door is closed when you approach, meaning Steve is still changing. You knock on the door, “Are you almost done in there?”

“I’m having… problems.” 

Your hand hovers over the door, mid knock. “Problems?”

There’s only silence for a moment, almost as if Steve is contemplating elaborating. Finally, after several seconds, he says “I’m definitely taller than Byers.” 

You roll your eyes and begin knocking again, just to annoy Steve, until he finally swings the door open. Before you can even stop it, a loud laugh escapes you. The sweats are at least five inches too short on him, while Jonathan’s shirt is a size too small. He looks absolutely ridiculous. 

“It’s not funny!” Steve whines, his face once again red. “I thought you gave me Jonathan’s clothes, Y/N!” 

More laughter escapes you, making your ribs begin to hurt. Every time you try to speak, you laugh even harder, and it’s impossible for you to get any words out. Steve watches, not amused in the slightest, and crosses his arms as if to appear more dignified. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, more laughs threatening to spill from you. “I guess they’re clothes from when he was fourteen.”

“I’m reconsidering our truce from earlier.” 

This gets you to stop laughing, and you gasp and smack Steve’s chest. “You wouldn’t dare!”

He sighs, hanging his head low. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Exactly,” his admission makes you giddy. “Now, either make yourself cozy in the bean bag or watch as I brush my teeth. Your choice.”

Steve shrugs and steps to the side so that there’s room for you to enter the bathroom. It’s a tight fit, but he ends up sitting on the edge of the tub and just watches as you begin the process of brushing your teeth. “I didn’t actually think you’d stay, ya know.”

“I know, but I’m bored and you’re here.”

You spit into the sink. “Fair, I guess.”

“Plus,” he picks at his nails, trying to look disinterested while wearing Jonathan’s too small clothes. “We still need to have that talk.”

You pause, toothbrush hanging from your lips as you stare at Steve, wide eyed, in the mirror. Honestly, you were hoping he would’ve forgotten about that. It’s not that you don’t want to know whatever he has to tell you, but you’re tired and still reeling over the fact that he’s spending the entire night in your room. 

“Oh, right.” Turning the faucet off, you finish brushing your teeth and awkwardly wipe your face. Steve watches quietly, and once you’re done, you motion for him to follow you back towards your room. 

As soon as you’re back in your room, Steve immediately curls himself upon the bean bag and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin. Dustin, as always, is right: the bean bag truly is Steve-sized. “Cozy.”

You laugh at him as you crawl into your own bed. “Yeah, I’d hope so. Jonathan has slept in it for years now.”

“Well, uh. Speaking of Jonathan…” Steve sits up a bit so that he can properly look at you. “I wanted to talk. Ya know… About you and him. Nancy, too.”

He pauses, furrows his brows, and then adds. “Actually, I want to talk about what really happened this summer. Everything. I want to know everything.”

“Everything is a lot,” you dodge, turning away from the boy. 

Steve sighs. “Y/N… I missed you.”

Missed.

“I want to be friends again, be how we were before, but… I don’t know. There was a lot unsaid between us. Even from the start. I mean, I understand. I do.” His eyes never leave yours, despite how much you try not to look back at him. “You’re, well–If we’re going to be friends again, I want to start from the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

Now Steve is the one who looks away. “I don’t know, it’s stupid, I guess–”

“It’s not stupid, Steve.” You reassure him. He’s trying, he’s inviting you in after everything you did to him, and it’s all you could’ve asked for. 

But you’re fucking terrified. 

You and Steve became close before, sure, but it was something more surface level. An act between the two of you. While Steve was able to read you over time, learning and asking and paying attention to you, there was still so much you never let him in on. What you haven’t let anyone in on, besides Jonathan. 

If you start from the beginning with Steve, someone you know has come to view you as this selfless and kind person, you’re scared that it’ll change the way he sees you. 

But Steve is looking at you from the bean bag, looking ridiculously cozy with the blanket wrapped around him and his usually carefully curated hair has fallen in his eyes; his gaze is open and trusting. There isn’t a pressure behind it, he would understand if you backed down, but you promised him you’d try. 

To try is to be human.

And you really, really missed Steve. 

“I moved here when I was twelve. My family and I had moved all the way from Virginia after the divorce. I remember being really mean, back then. An angry kid with all this hurt within her that she perpetually displaced upon everyone else.” 

“Angry?” Steve asks, his voice soft. 

You shift uncomfortably in bed, but you remind yourself that you agreed to this. If you’re going to begin again with Steve, then he deserves to know the true person he’s befriending. “Angry. I didn’t take the divorce well. At all. I acted out a lot, closed myself off, and was just a fucking awful person.”

Shifting again, you take a deep breath. “My anger got to the point where Dustin, who was nine, had to practically plead with me to be nicer to him. He was a kid.”

“So were you,” Steve gently chimes in, but you roll your eyes at him. 

“Being a kid didn’t give me an excuse to abandon my loved ones like I did. Like my father did. It wasn’t until Dustin called me out on my bullshit that I realized the irony of the situation. There I was, blaming everyone else for my own problems and running away, because I was so hurt by my father doing the same to me.”

Steve clenches his jaw, and you know he wants to say more, but you watch as he exhales deeply and decides against it. “Okay, so you were mean and then you became kind again after something traumatic… So what?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean,” the boy sighs. “I was a dick for like, ten consecutive years. It took losing a fight to Jonathan, embarrassing myself in front of Nancy at least five times, losing my bullshit ‘friends’ Tommy and Carol, and some blonde guy with a fucking mullet before I was even able to become a decent person.” 

You frown. “What’s your point?” 

“My point is that you came back.” Steve shrugs. “The second someone you loved asked you to, you came back to being the selfless angel that you are. Which, by the way, is an impressive feat in itself.” 

He says this as if it’s obvious and that the months you spent hurting everyone around you can be redeemed. As if you haven’t spent every waking hour tirelessly devoting every piece of yourself to those around you to make up for them. To repent for your anger. 

Steve takes your silence as more defiance, and he runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s merely a few feet from you, at the foot of your bed on the bean bag, and yet it feels as if he’s inches yet yards away. “I know I can’t change your mind, but… I think that’s what matters the most in the end, ya know? You became kind.” 

“So did you,” you finally say, not quite ready to accept what he’s saying. 

Now it’s Steve who looks away. “Still working on the whole ‘kind’ thing.”

“Isn’t that what matters in the end?” You tease, feeling yourself warm with pride when you get him to laugh. 

“Touche.” 

Silence falls over the two of you, letting the tension lazily slip away for now. Your body hums with energy; the only other person you’ve told about your father to is Jonathan. You both have long since bonded over shitty father figures. However, even when you had whispered these truths to Jonathan back when you were thirteen, you don’t remember feeling quite so raw and vulnerable as you do right now with Steve. 

“I meant it, you know,” you catch Steve’s eye. “Back when you first drove me home last year. You’re alright. Not too shabby, honestly.”

This time a full body laugh cascades through the boy, He clutches at his stomach as he doubles over, breathless with joy. “Thanks, Y/N.” 

Steve is still laughing and this is the happiest you think you’ve seen him in months. The realization makes all the warmth you’ve felt earlier, vanish. You remember the hurt on his face earlier this week on Halloween, the tears in his eyes when he confessed that Nancy didn’t love him. 

You know how plagued Steve is about never being good enough, and for the first time since you’ve truly gotten to know him: you understand him in that very moment. 

Your eye catches on Steve’s adam’s apple as he swallows. It’s a tragedy, really, how attractive he is. You suppose it’s what caused his downfall, in the end. A pretty boy, rich and popular yet easily able to be taken down; it must be a lonely life with all that vulnerability.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper, voice cutting through the darkness of your room as Steve seems to remember where he is, why and how the conversation started in the first place. 

“Always,”

“I’m scared of the compulsive need I feel to take care of everyone. It’s like… I don’t know, this debt that I feel I owe for existing, for the fear I feel because of my father leaving. I overcompensate for this fear now, terrified I’ll become mean again.”

Steve stares at your ceiling. “The whole ‘debt’ thing, I understand. Believe me. Rather than being a perfect angel, however, I just try my fucking hardest not to disappoint everyone around me and make them leave.”

Nancy, as she always seems to do, lingers between you and Steve now; you both can feel her presence without him having to say her name. He told you what she did to him, you tried to reassure him that it hadn’t been his fault, but Steve isn’t an idiot. 

Nancy never loved him. He knows this, now. 

You don’t say anything, you don’t think he’d want you to. Giving him some time, you allow Steve a few minutes to collect his thoughts, sensing he has more to say. Then, softly, he whispers back to you, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always,” you echo. 

“I just want to be loved.” 

With just one confession, a string of six words in succession, Steve Harrington crushes you. 

The words come crashing upon your chest and you wish you could tell him how easily you see yourself falling for him. How, even if you can’t admit it just yet, you’re already falling for him. You think you have been for some time now. 

Somewhere, in between him driving you home last year and the way the summer sun kissed his face months later, you began to fall in love with him. 

While you’re thinking this, Steve is laying in the bean bag, absolutely terrified of the words that have come out of his mouth. He’s always had the fear, deep down, that he was unlovable, but to admit the fear out loud… He’s never felt so weak before.

You’re silent and Steve thinks he’s finally done it. His pathetic need to be liked and loved by everyone around him has finally scared you away. How couldn’t it scare you away? You so naturally are loved by everyone while Steve compulsively demands it because he’s still that scared ten year old boy with a father who never showed him love. 

Then, because you’re an angel, you give Steve the response he hadn’t even known he needed to hear. “It’s natural to want to be loved. We all do. It’s human.”

He exhales at your words, still staring at the ceiling as if to somehow lessen the impact of what you’re telling him. There’s something there, hanging in the air after your words have disappeared, that Steve can’t quite understand. 

It almost sounded like you were trying to reassure yourself, as well.

“What’s the deal with you and Jonathan?” Though Steve’s voice is steady, you can tell that he’s trying not to sound too interested. 

The question is a simple one, but it’s the hardest question you’ve ever had to answer. Everyone asks you, sooner or later, if you and Jonathan are together. You never blame them for asking, because ultimately the two of you are  closer than the average friends, regardless of gender. 

It doesn’t make the question any less painful to answer, though. It doesn’t make hearing Jonathan’s laugh cut any less deeper.

As for Steve, he’s asked this question before, albeit with teasing and disbelief whenever you’ve told him there’s nothing there. Despite the numerous times you’ve corrected him, he’s never quite believed you.

This time, it feels different. There’s a weight behind Steve’s question, and your silence is all the answer that he needs. “You love him.”

The words aren’t a question, and they harbor no malice. He says them as if they are a fact; you suppose that it is. You don’t say anything, but you do nod your head at him. “I do… I think I’ve always loved him, honestly.”

You’ve never, ever said those words out loud. Not to anyone.

And now, you’re confessing them to Steve, who doesn’t have to ask you why your voice now holds melancholy within it. He knows, he’s always somehow known. Jonathan doesn’t love you, a fact in which Steve has never been able to wrap his head around. He’s watched the two of you for years, how easily you love one another, and yet somehow the love never blossomed into something more. 

Everything stills between you and Steve, allowing both your confessions to surround the two of you. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s apology only causes you to shrug. “He’s still mine, at least for now. Is that so bad?”

“I mean, I guess not, but… Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

“God,” you squeeze your eyes shut, finally able to voice all you’ve been feeling to someone who can understand. “It feels like this crushing weight upon me every time I see him smile, like it’s a burden, carrying all this love within me without being able to express it freely. I just… I never thought that love could be so exhausting. ”

As the words start to come out, you find that you’re unable to stop. “I grew up with Jonathan, I learned the way he breathes and the way his hands feel pressed against my skin, but so much has changed and…” Your breath hitches. “He’s not someone I reach out to first anymore. It almost feels like I can’t. I love him, I do, but I also miss how it used to be before I realized everything.”

The pressure of tears builds behind your eyes and forces you to stop talking. If you say anything else, you’re afraid you’ll start crying. While Steve has been so lovely tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to console you so pathetically. 

Steve seems to hear the tears lacing your voice and speaks for you, having finally pieced together everything he’s been unable to articulate since November of last year. “With Nance, it feels like I’m always somehow two steps behind her and her feelings. Constantly playing catch up while the rules keep changing on me… I get the whole ‘love is exhausting’ thing.”

Though you know Steve means well, his words fucking terrify you. If he feels the same way towards Nancy, a girl who never ended up loving him despite how much he poured his heart out for her, what does that mean for you and Jonathan?

For the first time, you question if the exhaustion you feel surrounding your love for the boy is really something else. Something different, disguised as exhaustion. 

You wonder, deep down, if you’ve started to fall out of love with Jonathan.

Who are you if you have?

The boy has become so intertwined within your life, the threads and strings and lines have tied you to him indefinitely. He’s the reason behind your everything. If you no longer love Jonathan, then who are you, really?

The realization washes over you like cold rain in the middle of winter. It spills over you and pricks at your skin and you suddenly want the conversation to end. While you’re so relieved to be talking to Steve again, the conversation has left you with more realizations than resolutions. 

“It’s late,” you fake a yawn, desperate to cut the conversation short. “We should go to bed. Knowing Dustin, he’ll have us up at the crack of dawn to start looking for Dart.”

Steve sees right through you, he knows he’s somehow crossed a line and that you’re once again retreating. You’re closing yourself off from him again, but he’ll take whatever he can get from you. You’ve told him more than he ever thought you would, so for now he’ll play along. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says, watching as you reach for your lamp and turn the light off. Then, as soon as you’ve rolled over and closed your eyes, you faintly hear his final words. “Don’t we make a pathetic pair?” 

You remember, before drifting off to sleep, feeling relief wash over you that Steve once again considers the two of you a pair.

– 

You wake up the next morning to the faint sounds of Dustin getting ready. His shower can be heard from your room, and through the years it's become your morning alarm. Yawning, you roll over and rub your eyes and take a few minutes to let your brain wake up. 

Bits of yesterday’s events come back to you. 

Dustin confessing about Dart. 

Locking the Demodog in your cellar. 

Radioing everyone in the party for help and getting no response. 

Going to the Wheelers for Mike and coming back with Steve. 

Dart going missing. 

And, most importantly, your bizarre conversation with Steve last night. 

The boy in question lets out a loud snore from the bean bag, blankets haphazardly twisted around his legs, and you stifle a laugh. Even in his sleep, Steve Harrington somehow catches all the attention in the room.  

You throw your blanket off and get out of bed, tiptoeing so as to not wake up the sleeping beauty, and head outside to your kitchen. If yesterday was any indication of how long today will be, then you need all the coffee in the world to get through it. 

The coffee has just finished brewing when you hear Steve stumble into the kitchen. His eyes are bleary and his hair is the worst it’s ever looked. “I guess even Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington can’t escape bed head, huh?”

Steve acknowledges your quip only by grunting, still stumbling around through your home. So he isn’t a morning person, you think with a smile while bringing your coffee mug to your lips and taking a careful sip. 

Eventually Steve makes it to your kitchen table and plops down, letting out a loud yawn and smacking his lips. He looks pathetically endearing, really, especially given his outfit that looks even worse after sleeping in it. The shirt has ridden further up, exposing a bit of his stomach (which you divert your gaze from, feeling yourself blush), and one of his too-short pant legs has ridden up to his knee. 

“You really are a natural beauty in the morning, Steve.” 

“Ha,” he says boredly, looking around the kitchen. “Do you guys have any food? I’m starving.” 

You toss him an apple from the fruit basket on the counter, and Steve only just manages to catch it in time to avoid it hitting his face.

“Christ!” He exclaims, glaring at you when you chuckle at his reaction. Maybe it was a little mean, but you see the small smile he tries to hide. 

“Is this all I get? An apple thrown at my face?”

You walk over to the table and set your mug down. “Were you expecting a home cooked meal?” 

“You’ll have to earn a Y/N Henderson breakfast,” Dustin says as he enters the kitchen and joins the two of you. His hair is still wet from his shower and he drips onto the counter, which makes you cringe. He’s such a boy, sometimes. 

He makes his way over to the fridge and rustles around, looking for something to eat. Truthfully, the reason you threw the apple at Steve is because there’s no food in your house at the moment. Your mom normally goes to the grocery store on Saturdays, and in her frantic rush to find Mews she hadn't left any money for you to go to the store. 

“There’s no food,” you inform your brother. 

He sighs dejectedly, grabbing a banana and then plopping himself next to Steve at the table. “All right, are you two awake enough to discuss the plan?” 

You nod immediately at Dustin’s question while Steve slumps further into his seat, groaning. You run a hand through his hair to try and settle down his theatrics. Dustin sees this and raises an eyebrow at you, but you shake your head and motion for him to keep quiet. 

“So,” he takes a bite from his banana and begins speaking with his mouth full, which you make a face at. “I was thinking we lure Dart with bait to a secure area that we can catch him in.” 

“Wait,” Steve sits up a bit in his seat, careful to not knock your hand off his head. “That’s all you got? That’s the entire plan?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” he begins eating as well, his mouth also full and disgusting to look at, “Do you know how we’ll lure him? Or where? Better yet, how will we even catch him?” 

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Okay, so it’s a working idea. You got anything better?”

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He pauses for a second before seemingly drawing a blank and closing his mouth; he sinks back into his seat in defeat.

“That’s what I thought.” Dustin says smugly.

You take another sip of coffee, enjoying the mug’s warmth around your fingers. “Well, we at least know what Dart likes to eat.”

“We do?” Steve questions, looking up at you.

“Oh, just wait until you hear this,” you motion over to Dustin. “Go on, tell Steve what you’ve been feeding Dart.”

Now it’s your brother’s turn to sink into his seat, embarrassed. He mumbles something that Steve can’t quite hear.

“What?”

He mumbles again, only a tiny bit louder this time.

“Little Henderson, I can’t understand you.” Steve says, smirking when he feels you laugh against him. 

“I said he eats Musketeers Bars!” Dustin shouts, now incredibly defensive. 

In sync, you and Steve share a look. While you have an exasperated fondness on your face, Steve looks like he’s questioning every choice he’s made in his life. It’s cute that he thinks this is the weirdest things will get.

“Okay…” Steve looks over at your brother. “Unless you plan on buying out an entire candy store, we need something else for bait.”

In the corner of your eye you see Mews’ cat bed laying against the window, and an idea pops into your head. “Dustin, did Dart only eat the candy bars before he killed our cat?”

“Yeah, why?” 

As you walk over to the kitchen sink to place your mug in it, you begin explaining. “Then clearly he’s outgrown his sugar needs and would probably eat just about anything with flesh on it.”

Steve wrinkles his face with displeasure, not enjoying the thought of going after this monster that craves meat. He’s already done that, and call him crazy, but he really doesn’t want to experience anything like that ever again. 

Dustin’s eyes light up, following along with what you’re saying. “Raw meat! You’re a genius, Y/N!” 

“And then we can follow the train tracks to that old junkyard, the one that El brought you guys to last year. It’s a straight shot, Dart won’t get lost, and then we catch him.”

Dustin squeals. “That’s perfect!”

He stands up to hug you, which you gladly accept. “Yeah, yeah. We Hendersons are known for our genius,” you gently push your brother away and start exiting the kitchen. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. Steve, you’ll take Dustin to the butcher and see if you can haggle some raw meat out of him.” 

“Uh… can I change first?” He asks, running a hand through his hair with displeasure. 

Only now does Dustin notice Steve’s appearance and he lets out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think you look great!”

You shoot your brother a warning look, not wanting to upset Steve too much. He’s the only one with a car, and the party still hasn’t responded to Dustin’s calls, so he’s all you have right now. Plus, after last night’s conversation, you’re sure he’s feeling just as wound up and tense as you are. 

“We can swing by your place on our way to the train tracks. Your house is right next to it, anyways, and Dustin and I can scout the parameters while you shower and get yourself all pretty. For now, just go to the butcher's shop, please.” 

“But–” 

“Please, Steve?” You pout, daring him to argue with you again. Steve is only able to stand his ground for about five seconds before he groans and nods his head.

“Fine–” You quickly hug him before running towards the bathroom to get ready. 

Once you’re gone, Steve searches for his keys while Dustin stands in the kitchen, shocked. “I so need to know when you two became such good pals.”

“Go wait by the car, Little Henderson.” Steve waves him off, though he’s secretly pleased with how the morning is turning out so far.

–

“C’mon, man. It’s just chunks of raw meat, it doesn’t even matter what, uh, body parts they are, I guess.” Steve argues with the butcher, having no idea why you’ve sent him on this journey with Dustin. Neither of them have any idea about butchers and meat, so they’ve been arguing back and forth for a solid ten minutes with the guy. 

“And I already told you, it’ll be $15. Take it or leave it, pretty boy.” Pat, the butcher, says. 

Steve scowles at the name, “That’s insane for five pounds, you realize that? It’s just a bunch of meat chunks from god knows where, it’s not like we want prime rib you dirty sack of–” 

Dustin cuts him off, snatching the boy’s wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a twenty. “Ignore him, please! Here, thank you so much for your lovely service, good sir.”

Pat narrows his eyes at the boy, and for a split second Dustin is afraid that he’s trying to figure out the best way to skin them alive, before he simply grunts and takes the money. 

Relief washes over Dustin and he scrambles to grab the bags of meat, tugging at Steve’s sleeve in urgence until he gives in and begins to help as well. Within a few seconds, they’ve gathered all they need and head towards the car. 

“Keep the change!” Dustin calls out behind him. 

As soon as they’re in the car, he yells at Steve to step on it. It’s already been twenty minutes since they left the house, and he knows from experience to never keep you waiting. 

“Okay, okay, god.” Steve complies, pushing down on the gas and speeding away from the butcher’s shop. 

The smell of raw meat immediately infiltrates the car, so Steve rolls down the windows and sighs. This is definitely not the weekend he had in mind. He thought he’d apologize to Nancy, kiss and hopefully make up, and maybe even swing by your place to tell you the good news. 

Instead, he has buckets of raw meat in his car and his head is swimming from his conversation with you from last night. While he’s happy it happened, there’s still so much Steve feels like you aren’t telling him. To top it all off, he hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed, but rather a bean bag that Jonathan apparently has slept in a million times before. 

As Steve is moping, he realizes that there actually wasn’t even a real need to spend the night. 

“Hey, Little Henderson,” Steve gently hits Dustin’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why did I have to spend the night at your place?” 

“Oh, you didn’t.” Dustin says as if it’s no big deal.

Steve turns his head towards him, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually spend the night if we’re being honest. I just thought it’d be funny to mess with you.” 

“I tried arguing with you, but you shushed me!” Steve exclaims, putting both hands back on the steering wheel aggressively. 

The younger boy shrugs, “What are you, seventeen? Eighteen? Why would you listen to a thirteen year old?” 

“Well, I–” As much as he wants to, Steve really can’t defend himself on this one. Shit. It’s not like he can tell Dustin that he mostly stayed because his sister is pretty and makes him feel safe.

Dustin smiles, happy to have won the conversation at hand, and decides to really rub it in as they pull up to the house. “I also thought it’d be hilarious to pair you up with my sister. Hope you two made smart choices last night.”

And with those words, Dustin springs out the car, leaving a speechless Steve behind. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, completely at a loss for words. He’s only spent a total of sixteen hours with the kid, and already he knows he’s in for a world more of trouble. 

If you’re Hawkins’ sweetheart, then Dustin is the town’s horribly terrifying weasel. 

Meanwhile, you’ve just finished lacing up your shoes when Dustin walks in.

“Where are the rubber gloves that mom likes?” He asks in lieu of greeting you. 

“In the closet, second shelf, next to her cat figurines. Where’s Steve?”

Dustin rustles around the closet and pulls out three sets of gloves, “In the car, moping.” 

There’s a crash and then he tosses two buckets onto the carpet. You crouch down and grab the buckets, placing them on the table. “Why is he moping?”

“Why is who moping?” The man in question walks in, throwing himself on the couch and narrowly dodging the third bucket that Dustin throws out. “Why do you guys keep throwing shit at me, jesus!” 

“Language! There’s kids around,” You snap your fingers at Steve, who quickly cowers in shame. “And if it makes any difference, the bucket wasn’t intentional. The rest were, though.” 

Just as Dustin is finishing up in the closet, you spot a can of gasoline and an idea sparks in your head. If you learned anything at Jonathan’s house last year, it’s that these Demogorgon things really hate fire. “Hey, grab the gasoline as well.”

He does as he’s told, no questions asked, and then hands it to you. You add it to the pile on the table, along with two backpacks from your brother and your beloved switchblade. 

Steve gets up from the couch to investigate your stash, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, guys. What are we going to put in the backpacks, though?” 

Dustin goes into the kitchen and begins grabbing the few items within it. The remaining fruits in the basket, a few pieces of bread, a bag of chips, and some water bottles. “One bag will have our food, the other will have our weapons.” 

And with that, you guys are all set to head out. While Dustin is distracted with grabbing his backpack, you run towards Steve’s car and throw yourself into the passenger seat. Every man for himself. 

“What– Y/N!” He calls after you, but he’s too late. You’ve already buckled yourself up by the time he and Steve get into the car themselves. 

“She beat ya, buddy.” Steve teases, flashing you a proud smile. 

Dustin grumbles in the backseat, unamused, and for a moment you think he’ll leave it at that. However, because he’s Dustin, you see from the rearview mirror as his eyes spark with revenge. “So, Steve.”

The tone in his voice terrifies you. 

You place your head in your hands and sigh, mentally preparing for whatever your brother is about to say. 

“Yes, Dustin?”

“How long have you been friendly with my sister?”

“Dustin!” You whip your head around, lunging towards the back seat to swat at the boy, but he quickly scoots over to Steve’s side and avoids your hands. 

Steve, however, surprises you by simply shrugging and taking the question in stride. There’s no embarrassment on his face, no ounce of hesitation in his voice. “About a year now.”

“A year?” Dustin exclaims, having completely not expected such a response. “Y/N, how could you keep this from me?”

“She didn’t hide anything from you, buddy.” Steve defends you, eyes focused on the road. “I convinced her to be my friend after I saved her life–”

“You saved her life?”

“And then bought you boys snacks at the hospital afterwards. Then, because I really wanted to be her friend, I basically stalked her at work every day and annoyed my way into her life. We’ve been pretty close ever since.”

Dustin’s jaw is practically on the ground after Steve’s quick explanation, left speechless for the first time in his life. As for you, you’re admiring the way the early morning sun causes Steve to glow. You’ll never be over how often his beauty distracts you; you wonder how Nancy, or really anyone, could deny him love.

If you didn’t know Steve, if you passed by him on the street one day as complete strangers, you’re sure that a part of you would fall in love with him. 

Even with pieces of his hair standing all over the place, his shirt still being too small, he was a delicate kind of handsome that made you feel a certain warmth.

“Did I forget anything, Y/N?” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, and you quickly divert your eyes away from the way his arms look while holding the steering wheel. 

“No, uh.” You clear your throat, still recovering. Steve seems to be in good spirits for once, it’s a breath of fresh air seeing him so content, and yet it also serves as a stark reminder that you made the right choice when you first distanced yourself from him. He’s just too easy to love. “I think you pretty much covered everything. Unless Dustin has any questions?”

“Give me three to five business days to process this, please.” Your brother mumbles from the backseat, which you and Steve laugh at. 

The rest of the ride is relatively peaceful after that, and a few minutes later you arrive at Steve’s house. It’s different in the daylight, only ever having seen it late one night driving the boy home from the Halloween party. 

It’s a beautiful home, the smell of chlorine fills your nose. The pool, you remember Nancy mentioning his pool when she explained what happened to Barb. You shiver, now aware that you’re in the same place that your friend took her last breaths at, just a year ago. 

“The tracks are just over on the other side of the street, and I shouldn’t be too long, so you Hendersons can start figuring out the plan in the meantime.” Steve instructs you and Dustin, getting out of the car and entering his house. 

Dustin begins getting out as well, so you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow. Thankfully you decided to wear jeans today with a simple tank top and cardigan with your knit socks; though it was late October, it’s unusually sunny outside and the walk from Steve’s to the junkyard was easily four to five miles. 

The two of you walk over to the tracks and you survey the area. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure it’s best to look focused in case Dustin yells at you. 

“We’ll need to go that way,” Dustin points in front of you, and you nod as you follow along. “We can drop the meat chunks every few sleepers so we don’t waste any of it.” 

“Sleepers?”

“These.” Dustin’s shoe scrapes against the bottom wooden planks. 

“You would know what they’re called.”

“Ha ha, any more quips or can I continue?”

You put your hands up in surrender and Dustin begins to speak again.

“Then once we get to the junkyard, we can dump whatever meat is left in a pile and put the gasoline on it. Once Dart is distracted and eating, we’ll light it on fire.” His words catch a bit at the end, and you suddenly feel bad for him. He clearly still cares about Dart, but you know your brother understands the risks of letting the Demodog live. 

Without saying anything, you reach over and pull Dustin in for a hug. He fights it at first, but after a couple seconds he gives in and hugs you back. You aren’t the most affectionate pair of siblings, but you love your younger brother fiercely. Not for the first time, you wish you could’ve done more to prevent him from discovering the Upside Down. 

You know it’s irrational to blame yourself and feel guilty, but maybe if you’d been more involved last year, then maybe he wouldn’t have so many nightmares. 

“I’m sorry about Dart,” you say softly against his hat. 

Dustin breaks away, shrugging his shoulders. “Gotta protect the party, right?”

“Right.” You flick his hat. “C’mon, let’s go back to the car and start putting the meat in the buckets.” 

True to his word, Steve is ready to go after about twenty minutes. He walks out of his house, freshly clean and put together, right as you and Dustin finish preparing the bait. He approaches from behind you, and you can smell his cologne. Memories from when he’d have his arms around you and you’d smell the familiar scent now wash over you. 

Clearing your throat, you turn to hand him gloves and a bucket, but almost drop it when you see him. 

He looks good. Like, frustratingly good. His hair is back in its usual style, but he’s wearing a dark blue polo and a gray jacket that fits him criminally well. You almost feel underdressed standing next to him with your ratty old cardigan, which you know is ridiculous to be concerned about. Plus, you’ve always known that Steve was attractive, so it’s stupid to be affected by it suddenly now. 

You guys had one emotional conversation. 

“Y/N?” 

Steve’s staring at you quizzically, and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and hand him the bucket full of bait and instruct him to put the gloves on. He listens, dutifully putting them on and placing the bucket on the ground and starts searching for one of the backpacks in the trunk. He’s seemingly in a much better mood now, which you’re thankful for. 

“Dustin! This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?” 

Lucas’ voice rings out from Dustin’s walkie, and you perk your head up, relieved that he’s okay. The radio silence from the party was something that unnerved you immensely. With Dart on the loose, Will’s increasing episodes, who knows what else is happening in Hawkins at the moment? 

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Dustin responds, placing his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. You chuckle at him and continue helping Steve unload the trunk. 

You hear Lucas sigh into the walkie. “Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.” 

“Tell Erica I say hi!” You call out, knowing Lucas will hear you. He always resented the fact that his sister is so nice to you. You’re the only living person who didn’t receive Erica’s insane insults, which is something you’re very proud of.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Lucas!” 

Dustin shoos you away and continues to speak. “Well, when you were having sister problems, which really aren’t that hard to handle–” 

“Says you,” you butt in. 

“Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” Your brother finishes. By this point, you and Steve have pretty much unpacked everything in the car. 

“Wait, what?” You’d kill to see the look on Lucas’ face right now. 

“I’ll explain later, just meet me, Y/N, and Steve at the old junkyard.” As Dustin wraps up the conversation, Steve shoves his bat into the bag and you watch him with disappointment. He’s trying really hard to make it fit, and you almost pity the boy. Bless him. 

There’s a pause before Lucas asks, “Steve?”

Dustin doesn’t elaborate, instead instructing his friend to bring his binoculars and wrist rocket. You suppose it’s a good idea to add more weapons to your arsenal. Better safe than sorry.

“Steve Harrington?” Lucas asks again, this time even more confused. 

“He’s a friend,” you say, shoving your own weapons into the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 

Steve closes the trunk and says, “Damn straight I am. Alright, let’s go.”

You follow after him, saying goodbye to Lucas as Dustin tells him to be at the junkyard stat. 

Dustin stashes his walkie in his own bag and then the three of you are off. Your brother and Steve walk a bit ahead of you as you all throw the meat chunks onto the ground, doing as Dustin instructed. It’s slow work, but you’re happy to have some time to yourself while the boys are distracted with each other. Their friendship wasn’t something you’d expect, but you’re incredibly happy about it.

You love the party, you’d do anything for them given all that you’ve been through together. However, as they grow older, you can’t help but notice how much they’re changing. Mike hasn’t been himself since El disappeared, Dustin is now hyper focused on science, Lucas is becoming his own person, and poor Will is just trying to recover from the trauma of last year. 

It’s been hard watching them grow apart, in a way. Nothing will ever be the same after the Upside Down, you know that, but watching the party slowly drift makes you sad for your brother. You’re glad he’s seemingly found someone like Steve to bounce jokes off of and feel appreciated by. You know that someday the kids will all come together again, it’d be impossible not to with how strong of a connection they all have, so you try not to worry too much.

You shove the thoughts down, you need to keep focused on Dart and contacting the rest of the party. So, you dutifully place the bait down and follow behind the boys and feel the time pass by. After about an hour of nonsensical conversation between Steve and Dustin, you hear the older boy finally ask the question of why your brother even hid Dart in the first place. 

“It’s complicated, okay?” Dustin defects, clearly uncomfortable with the change in conversation.

You keep your distance from them, but you keep an ear out just in case you need to intervene. 

“You claim you wanted to get famous off of it or whatever,” Steve drops meat onto the tracks and kicks his foot. “Call me crazy, but you don’t hide something that supposedly makes you famous.” 

He has a point, and Dustin scrunches his face up. He casts a glance your way and you do your best to appear distracted by the job at hand. You know Dustin’s guilty face well, so whatever he’s about to tell Steve will be good. When Dustin shuffles closer to Steve and lowers his voice, you get closer as well so you can listen.

You’re his older sister. It’s your damn job to be nosy.

“It was for this girl.” 

Simultaneously you and Steve react. He hums in approval, almost proud, while you scoff. “I knew it.”

Dustin turns around, horrified. “You knew?”

“Duh, you’re awful at hiding things from me. After Max was just conveniently outside the AV room when Dart originally escaped, I pieced it together immediately. Also, side note: you’re too young to be impressing girls. I told you to just be yourself, dummy.”

Steve lets out a snort. “Pretty ironic coming from you, Y/N.”

Suddenly you feel uncomfortable with his attention on you.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice is steady, but you can feel your hands shaking as you continue throwing the bait. 

“Ya know, your massive crush on Jonathan ever since you were twelve.” He laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke in the world. 

Dustin clears his throat aggressively, pointing to your hands. Steve sees the way that they shake, the tension you now carry in your shoulders, and he’s become familiar enough with you to know your anger cues. The teasing smile that had been on his face drops. He runs towards you so he’s now by your side, and Dustin sighs in disappointment. 

“I didn’t, like, mean anything by that, you know. I–uh, I was kidding, Y/N.” Steve tries to catch your gaze, but you pointedly stare straight ahead and clench your jaw. He’s stumbling over both his words and the tracks beneath his feet, trying desperately to appease you. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.” 

“Y/N, please, I said I was sorry–”

You finally face him, grabbing his elbow to ensure he doesn’t move. “I told you that stuff about Jonathan in confidence. You don’t get to throw it back in my face, joking or not.” 

It doesn’t help that you’re already confused enough as it is about the boy and your feelings towards him. To have Steve tease you about it, especially because he knows how painful jabs about Nancy are… It really fucking hurts. 

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows. 

“Shit…”

“You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.”

Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 

They walk in silence for a little while, Steve hanging his head in shame and Dustin leading the way, frustrated by being stuck with two overly emotional teens. 

After a while the silence eats at Steve, so he decides to continue the conversation from earlier. “So, this girl… is she someone you’ve known a while?” 

Dustin shakes his head, “No, she’s new at our school. She’s super cool, though.”

“I remember back when I based my attraction to girls on their coolness.” Steve mumbles. 

“And look where basing it off their hotness has gotten you.” 

“Ouch,” Steve rubs at his chest, wounded.

Dustin laughs and flings some bait at him. “I thought that if I showed her Dart, she’d think I was cool, too, and like me.”

Steve sidesteps the thrown bait and tries to comprehend what the younger boy is saying. “So, you kept something that you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who… you just met?”

“Alright, that’s grossly oversimplifying things. And anyways, who are you to give me girl advice? My sister is literally three hundred feet ahead of us because you pissed her off with one singular sentence.” Then, almost as if as an afterthought, Dustin adds, “congrats, by the way. I’ve never seen someone piss her off so quickly.” 

“Look, this isn’t about me, okay? Sure, I messed up with Y/N, but it isn’t like I was hitting on her to begin with,” Dustin makes a disgusted face as Steve quickly continues, panicked. “So she doesn’t count. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard, man.” 

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?” Dustin grumbles. 

Steve shakes his head, slightly amused by the boy’s antics. He’s so much like you, and yet so different, and Steve is realizing it’ll take a lot to keep up with the kid. “It’s not about the hair, dude. Chicks dig more than just a good hairstyle.” 

“You’re literally known as Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

“Hey, ‘King Steve’ is also there.” 

Dustin flings even more bait at Steve, now annoyed with him. “Whatever man, it’s not like you’d be any help anyways.” 

“Oh really? Well, Little Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind: the key to girls is just acting like you don’t care.”

“Even if you do?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Steve now brightens up, happy to finally be getting through to the boy. For Steve, he’s long since learned that the best way to avoid getting hurt is to pretend that he doesn’t care. “It drives them nuts.”

“Then what?” 

“You just wait,” Steve looks ahead, watching you and feeling like a complete dick. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you, hell the two of you were finally starting to get somewhere and yet… Steve fucked it up. As always. 

He can see that your shoulders are still tensed up, you’re walking faster than you need to be. He feels a heavy weight in his stomach, one that he’s never felt before; he doesn’t like it. “You wait… until you feel it.”

Dustin furrows his brows. “Feel what?”

Steve tears his gaze away from you and turns back to Dustin, beginning to explain the electricity between someone you’re interested in. Being the geek that he is, Dustin turns it into a scientific discussion and Steve does his best to steer the conversation back. 

“No, like sexual electricity.” He explains.

As soon as the words leave Steve’s lips, you whip around and shout, “Are you seriously talking to my little brother about sexual electricity?”

Both Dustin and Steve freeze in place, dumbfounded. You let out a loud groan and continue stomping away, now even more aggressively throwing the chunks at the train tracks. 

“How did she even hear me?” Steve whispers, terrified. 

“I don’t know,” Your brother whispers back, also equally frightened. “Sometimes I think she has powers like El.”

Once you’re a safe enough distance away from them, Dustin hesitantly brings the girl conversation back up. “Hypothetically, what do girls like?”

Steve takes a second to answer, carefully rolling the question around in his mind. “It depends on the girl. Some girls want you to be aggressive, ya know? Go in for the kiss, make them feel protected. Strong, hot and heavy. Like a lion.” 

Dustin hums to indicate he’s following along, but ‘like a lion’ has him a little worried about the reliability of the conversation. He knows that Steve is a lady’s man, but he’s also never seen him with any girl besides Nancy, and the one time he saw him with you, he had immediately pissed you off. 

So for all Dustin knows, it could be lies. 

Steve continues his confusing explanation. “But others? You gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy… like a ninja!”

“Okay, what type is Nancy?” Dustin asks, hoping to get the teen to stop making stupid analogies. Lions, ninjas… maybe it was all lies. 

The question catches Steve off guard and he stumbles a bit, feeling the familiar sense of protectiveness, insecurity, over the girl as well as a new sense of loss. What type is Nancy? If he had been asked this a week ago, Steve would’ve told Dustin that she’s a nice girl, a girl he could happily bring home to his parents and proudly wrap around his arms. Now? He’s not so sure. 

Not when he can still see the anger and disgust in Nancy’s eyes that night at the party. 

“Nancy’s different,” he recalls his conversation with you from last night, how he’d confessed to always feeling two steps behind the girl and how exhausting it all is. “She’s just different. Let’s move on to the next question.” 

Dustin notices Steve’s change in demeanor but doesn’t say anything. He supposes that you and him have a lot in common, then. “Okay, what type would you say Y/N is?”

Once again Steve isn’t expecting the question Dustin asks. “What–” he trips over a twig and just barely manages to catch himself. “Why would you ask me that? She’s your sister, and I don’t even like her–”

“Relax, Romeo. She’s just similar to Nancy and the girl I like, and I figured you’d know Y/N well enough by now considering you guys slept together–”

“I slept on her bean bag–”

“And have been friends for like, a year. Plus, she’s in love with Jonathan, you’re in love with Nancy, and coincidentally they’re in love with each other. Figures that there’s some type intermingling between the four of you.”

How the hell does everyone know about Nancy and Jonathan? Steve thinks bitterly. 

He’s silent for multiple seconds, absolutely at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t know where to begin or what to even deny. Technically the boy is right, as much as it hurts Steve to admit. He’s all but lost Nancy to Jonathan, and you’ve lost Jonathan to Nancy. 

In an extremely messed up way, you and Nancy do have the same type. On top of that, both you and Nancy are close to Jonathan, so it’s safe to assume there’s similarities to the both of you that Steve doesn’t even want to touch on right now.

Even more importantly, Steve has yet to really decipher why your presence alone can make or break his entire day. Why, after months of not talking, it now feels like he’s finally come home again with you back in his life. 

He looks at you again, still angrily throwing your bait, and he supposes that you’re a lot like Nancy in certain aspects, and yet completely different from her. “Y/N is also different, I guess. She’s incredibly intelligent both emotionally and academically. Isn’t she like the top of her class?”

Dustin nods, proud of the Henderson intelligence, and Steve continues. 

“Right. I’d say she’s like Nancy, except she’s softer?” Steve cringes at his own words, suddenly uncomfortable with comparing the two of you. In his mind, you’re both your own separate entities that infatuate him in different ways. 

You both burn Steve; Nancy is like a shot of whiskey, the thrill that follows the burn. But you? You’re a fireplace after hours of being out in the cold, the burn of it warming his bones.

“Y/N is just… she’s special, but everyone knows that. Your sister is the most caring person I’ve ever met, and I know I’m a lucky son of a bitch to be someone she trusts.” 

Dustin snorts. “Yeah you are.”

Up ahead, you finally slow down and face the boys, now waiting for them to catch up and call out, “C’mon, ladies! The sun sets soon, I don’t want Lucas waiting in the cold all alone.” 

“Looks like I’ve been forgiven.” Steve says, relief evident in his voice, something that your brother doesn’t miss.

Dustin lets out another loud snort, patting him on the chest, “Oh, my sister may be forgiving, but she never forgets.” With that, he walks away to catch up with you. 

“Well, isn’t that ominous.” 

You greet the boys with a tired smile, knowing there’s no use holding resentment towards Steve. He couldn’t have known about your mixed feelings towards Jonathan, you know he had only been trying to get along with Dustin. 

Things are still weird between you two, despite the conversation from last night, but it’s hard to stay mad at Steve and honestly, you don’t really want to be mad at him. It’s been so lovely having him around again, and your own confusing feelings can wait. 

Steve leans in close to you, gently grabbing at your hand so that you don’t walk away. “Hey, we okay?”

His eyes are full of concern and his voice is sickly sweet like honey. With the honey, the remaining bits of anger vanishes. “Of course we’re okay.”

Steve exhales deeply and you giggle at him before remembering that Dustin is quite literally a few feet away from you two. Coughing, you hold up your bucket to point out how it’s almost empty. “I guess in my rage, I flung more than I intended. How are your buckets holding up?” 

The two boys hold their buckets up, giving you a mock solute to indicate that all is good. You laugh, impressed by how synched they’ve become in such a short time. 

“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” As you all begin to walk in line again, you ask, “What were you guys even talking about, anyways?” 

The boys glance at each other in a conspiring way, which causes you to roll your eyes. They’re acting like you asked for their deepest and darkest secrets. They seem to have a silent conversation for a couple seconds before Steve finally speaks up. 

“I was just giving Little Henderson some girl advice. Nothing serious.” 

You raise your eyebrows, your heart swelling a bit at the idea of Steve giving your brother advice. It’s sweet, really. “Girl advice, huh?”

“Yeah, why do you sound so skeptical?” 

“Because you’re terrible with girls.” 

Dustin now butts in, “He told me to be aggressive.” 

“I did not!”

“He also said that you’re softer than Nancy.”

You make a face. “Thank you? I think?”

Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “You two are the worst people I’ve ever met. You know that, right?” 

In unison, you and Dustin reply, “We get that a lot.” 

Steve stares at the two of you with slight horror in his eyes. “Yeah, alright. I’m out.” 

You grab at his sleeve, gently stopping him from storming away. You give him an apologetic look and pull him close so that your chest bumps against his. “You’ve gotta get used to the Henderson humor, Steve.”

He looks surprised by your tugging at his sleeve before he lets a smile cross his face. He doesn’t do anything else, but he also doesn’t back away, either, and you find yourself blushing a bit under his gaze. 

You clear your throat and let go of his sleeve, stepping back a bit. “Anyways, why don’t you tell me what wise advice you have for my brother.” 

The smile that was just on Steve’s face vanishes as he looks away from you. “I was just telling the kid to not fall in love with his little crush. He’s too young for heartbreak and all that other shit.” 

“I’m not in love with her!” Dustin exclaims in disgust, but you’re too distracted by Steve’s words to assure your brother that you believe him. 

“Well, I believe that love is something beautiful.” You say, your words only meeting Steve’s turned back. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know his indifference holds no malice. He’s still hurting, still in love with Nancy Wheeler. “Dustin, you may be too young to be in love, but don’t listen to Steve. To love and be loved is the luckiest thing we can ever do, regardless of how it ends.” 

Dustin blanches at your words, grossed out now. “Okay, okay, stop! Love is gross. I get it.” 

You softly mumble sorry to him, now suddenly remembering that he’s only thirteen. When you were his age, the idea of love also grossed you out. Now, love is a concept that you’ve found a comforting warmth in, even if it's burned you a few times and has left you more exhausted than exhilarated. One day he’ll understand (in the far off future, hopefully). 

For now, you flick your brother’s hat and follow after Steve, finishing the rest of the bait journey in silence. 

– 

By the time the three of you get to the junkyard, it’s already about midday. 

It’s different from how you imagined it, filled with old cars and a giant school bus. It’s more open, too, not as “junkyard” as you assumed. 

You, Steve, and Dustin stand at the top of the hill, surveying the area. Your feet ache from the walk and the sun is hurting your eyes. Seeing you squinting, Steve wordlessly hands you his signature Raybans and motions for you to put them on. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. It’ll do just fine,” He says, satisfied as he begins to walk down the hill. Then, as an afterthought, he says to Dustin, “Good call, dude.”

Dustin beams with pride and you fill with so much happiness, seeing the boy getting along so well with Steve, that you almost regret not having them meet sooner. However, there’s no time to wallow in what-if’s and you put Steve’s sunglasses on to follow after the boys. 

Immediately you and Steve get to work, working seamlessly together side by side, months of him joining you in Bookstrordinary finally being put to use. While you and Steve silently scatter more meat and grab supplies, Dustin surveys the area.

Just as you’ve dumped the remaining meat in the middle of the field, you hear Lucas’ voice call from a few yards away, “I said medium well!”

The boy is with Max, who looks slightly displeased, yet curious, to be here. Despite her still obvious hesitation, you still feel excited seeing the girl. You’ve been meaning to talk more to her, she seems like such a lovely girl. 

“Who’s that?” Steve asks you.

“Max! She’s great, and–” You start gushing about the girl, eager to go and say hi, before you see the crestfallen look on Dustin’s face when he realizes why she’s with Lucas. You remember, then, the weird tug-of-war between the boys over her. Shit. 

You grab at Steve’s hand and pull him aside. “Actually, Steve, why don’t we start finding some panels to cover the bus?”

Steve gives you a questioning look, but when you silently motion towards Dustin and he sees his despair as well, he catches on and just nods, following along. Without having to tell him, he understands that you want to leave Dustin alone so he can talk to Lucas. 

As always, you’re forever thankful that he can read you so well. 

After guiding Steve away, you and him begin to prep the junkyard alongside Max. While the boys are talking, you take this as an opportunity to get to know the girl better. 

“So,” you begin, helping Max carry a large piece of wood over to the bus. “I see you’re back again.”

“Looks like it,” she shrugs, not really feeling like talking. Seems like she’s still mad at you for yesterday, taking Lucas’ side over hers. 

You sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“That’s a first.” Again she deflects, but you know she’s doing it out of hurt rather than maliciousness. 

“I know you don’t really like me right now, which I totally understand, I just wanted to let you know that while I don’t like that you’ve been dragged into this mess, I’m happy you’re here.”

Max frowns at you. “You guys act like I’m going to like, die or something.”

A scrap of metal that you’d been carrying slips from your hands. Steve hears this and comes rushing over to help, but you gently wave him away and focus on Max. “I don’t know what Lucas told you, but it’s all true. It’s dangerous, being here, and I just… If you ever get hurt, any of you kids, then it’d be on me and I’d never forgive myself.”

“Way to be a buzzkill, Y/N.” Steve nudges you, trying to get you to smile before your ever-present guilt bears down upon you. 

Max bites her lip, still disbelieving, but she recognizes the pained look of protectiveness on your face. It’s not something that someone can easily fake, and from what she’s heard about you, your kindness is one of the few genuine things in Hawkins. 

Before she can say anything else, Steve lets out a huff and grabs a chair to bang on the car that Lucas and Dustin are talking behind. “Hey! Dickheads! How come it’s only Y/N and some random girl helping me?”

“Language!” You chastise. 

Steve sends you a thumbs up, not really listening. “We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”

Dustin and Lucas reluctantly start helping, both calling Steve an asshole and throwing him dirty looks, which you can’t help but laugh at. 

Lucas sees you laughing and points at you. “Are you the reason Harrington is here?”

“Mhm,” you respond, nailing another piece of wood to the bus. “He’s done more to help than you have, so either pick up some metal and help or go sit in a corner and sulk. Up to you.”

Steve high fives you. “Yeah! What she said!”

Lucas’ shoulders sag, completely at a loss as to how any of this has happened. “This is so weird.”

“Dude, I’ve spent all day with them. Imagine how I feel,” Dustin groans. “I think I died a little when I found out they’ve been friends for like, a year.”

“A year?” Lucas gasps. 

“Guys!” You throw pebbles at the two boys to break up their little gossip session. “One, I’m incredibly hurt you two didn’t think I had any friends besides Jonathan. Two, start helping before I throw more rocks.”

“Yes ma’am,” both boys grumble in unison, which Max finds pretty impressive. 

After that, the five of you get to work. You guys use every item available in the junkyard to secure the bus, hoping that with enough stacked against it, you’ll be safe from Dart once he’s lured. Barrels are rolled, more sheets of metal are placed against the bus, and within the next hour or so you’ve successfully managed to build a decent base. 

All that’s left is to pour the gasoline trail, which you help Steve with as the kids watch from inside the bus. 

“I’m getting major deja-vu right now,” you mumble as Steve pours. 

“Gasoline at Jonathan’s?” 

“Mhm. God, he wouldn’t believe what we’re doing right now.” You know he would’ve loved this bizarre interaction. You, Steve, and the kids all in a junkyard trying to lure a baby Demogorgon. 

You’ve definitely had better babysitting days, and Jonathan would have a field day with this one. 

Once you’re done with the gasoline, you and Steve return to the bus. He waits behind you, making sure you’re securely in the car, before he heaves the old bus door closed. As soon as the door is closed, you and Steve exhale together.

You share a look, both in silent agreement to keep the kids safe no matter what. It’s your guys’ job to keep them safe, to fight for and protect them. 

Deja-vu again. You’re back in Jonathan’s house, holding a switchblade while Steve wields his bat. 

“Ready?” He asks you, extending his hand out for you to grab. 

You interlock your fingers through his. “When am I ever?”

Steve laughs, dispelling away any remaining uncertainty and fear. You know, that no matter what, that he’ll be by your side to help. With this in mind, you join the kids further into the bus. 

Lucas climbs the ladder up to the top, something you’re not fully okay with, but he’s the one with the binoculars and you the switchblade, so it makes the most sense. As the boy climbs, you sit down next to Steve as he flicks his lighter on and off. You’re pressed shoulder to shoulder, his presence grounding you.

Dustin paces, and all you can do is watch him as you try to settle your own nerves. Max has seated herself at the other end of the bus, her arms crossed as usual. 

After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “So, you really fought one of these things before?”

Steve nods and you hum in agreement. “Unfortunately.”

“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”

“I mean, to be fair I also had that same thought last year–”

Dustin cuts you off. “Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.”

You roughly grab at your brother, yanking him towards you to shut him up. “Dustin–”

“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” He sneers at Max, something you’ve never, ever seen your sweet brother do. “Just go home.”

Max clenches her jaw and you send her an apologetic look, but she rolls her eyes at you. “Geesh, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” 

“Max, wait–” She ignores you and climbs up the ladder to join Lucas. You groan once she’s gone, now more than ever wanting to strangle your brother. “Dustin, what the hell was that?”

“That was good, Y/N!” Steve says, a proud smirk on his face. “He showed her he didn’t care, just like I told him to.”

“Oh, so it’s your fault my sweet, innocent baby brother is now some woman hating misogynistic piece of–”

“I don’t hate women, Y/N.” Dustin tiredly says, before directing his next words to Steve. “And I don’t care.”

Steve winks at the boy, but immediately flinches back when you raise your hand to smack him. “Yeah, cower away, you idiotic and moronic–”

“Y/N, stop overreacting and Steve, stop winking at me.”

You raise your eyebrows at Dustin’s tone and he quickly clears his throat and steps away from you. Steve puts some distance between you two as well, scooting away a bit so that he’s out of hitting range. 

It’s quiet again, both boys now scared of your anger, and you anxiously wait for Dart to show up. 

Steve goes back to flicking the lighter, Dustin paces again, and you tap your foot nervously. The silence is killing you, it’s always been your least favorite part of the Upside Down. The waiting, hoping you’re prepared for when all hell inevitably breaks loose. 

You flick your own blades out, admiring the way the blades catch in the moonlight, when you hear a loud growl come from outside. Instinctively you raise your blades to your face while Steve and Dusin scramble to peek through the metal sheets to look out the window. 

“You guys see him?” Dustin asks as he crouches next to you. 

You shake your head. “No,”

There’s nothing outside, only a thick haze of fog that has settled over the junkyard. 

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Your brother calls up to his friend.

“Hold on!” The boy responds. 

Your heart begins to beat faster, your blades never straying away from your face, poised for a fight. Steve sees the way your knuckles whiten over your weapon and he grabs your spare hand, gently coaxing you to calm down. 

Your fingers tighten around Steve’s and you remember his words from last night, promising you that he’ll be there, and you believe him. 

From the bus’ roof, you hear Lucas call down, “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock–ten o’clock!”

There, in the haze of fog, you see a hunched figure stalk its way towards the bus. Seeing Dart, you’re filled with complete dread. He’s grown again, much bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

He’s practically the size of the Demogorgon from last year, the same one that almost killed you and Steve. 

“What’s he doing?” Dustin asks, as if anyone else would have any more information than he does. 

“I don’t know,” Steve sighs, his eyes never leaving Dart. 

You squeeze his hand again and hold your breath as you watch the Demodog. He slowly approaches the bait, inspects the area, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in it. You send a silent prayer to whatever god is above that your plan will work. 

It has to work. 

However, Dart starts to back away from the bait and Steve leans even closer to the window. “He’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?”

“I don’t know,” you want to cry from exhaustion and fear and defeat. 

Dustin looks over at you. “Maybe he’s not hungry?”

Something seems to click, then, for Steve. His eyes light up with an idea, and before he can even get his words out, you grasp at Steve’s arm and try to talk him out of it. “No, absolutely not. You’re not going out there.”

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve tries to make you let go of him, but you quickly tighten your hold on him and fight back. “Y/N, let me go, I can run fast and–”

“You can’t just use yourself as bait!” You plead, but Steve has always been stronger than you and he drags you behind him as he makes his way towards the bus door. “Steve, listen to me!”

“Steve? Steve!” Dustin finally catches on to what’s happening and he grabs at the teen as well. “What are you doing?”

Steve ignores you both and with a quick jerk of his arm, he frees himself from you. As soon as you’ve let go, he runs towards the door and snatches his bat from the ground. You curse, knowing there’s no way in hell he’s going out there alone, so you follow after him. 

Dustin sees this and panics. “Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re going–”

“Stay put!” You command, scrambling after Steve, who has now begun to open the door. He tosses you the lighter, which you toss to your brother. “Just get ready, Dustin!”

“Y/N!”

“I love you!”

Dustin continues to shout, his pleas laced with more fear than you’ve ever heard from him, but you force yourself to leave. Just as you’ve stepped outside and re-closed the bus door, Dustin pounds against the glass that you’ve locked, tears in his eyes.

You look away, despite how fucking hard it is, and it takes everythin within you to leave. 

Steve saved your life last year. 

Now it’s your turn. 

It’s tense outside as you and Steve walk back to back, weapons out. He twirls his bat a few times, a move that you find yourself smiling at due to its familiarity. With your back against his, you whisper to Steve, “You look for Dart, I keep an eye for anything else?”

He nods, and together the two of you slowly follow the sound of Dart’s chittering. 

“C’mon buddy,” Steve taunts, beginning to whistle. 

“I know we named it a Demodog, but I don’t think whistling will help.”

“We could be about to die, and you’re seriously questioning what I’m doing?”

You shrug, eyes now on the skyline as the fog slowly thickens. “Habit.”

Steve chuckles, which brings some comfort to the fucking awful situation at hand. He whistles some more, continuing to taunt Dart. “C’mon. Dinner time.”

“Again with offering Dart meals while we’re near him,” you shake your head, not at all liking where any of this is going.

“What? At least human tastes better than cat.” Steve responds, now at the pile of raw meat.

You both stop here, Steve facing the bait and you facing the bus, still scanning for literally anything else that could possibly go wrong. Because you’re Y/N Henderson and nothing can ever, ever go right for you. 

Dart lets out another growl, now having spotted Steve, and the teen swings his bat around. You spare a quick glance behind you and see Dart, who has placed all his focus on you and Steve. 

Well, at least the live bait plan is working. 

You turn away again, and as soon as you do, you see the other Demodogs now suddenly appear. Your blood runs cold when you see the two up ahead, one directly in front of you and one on top of the cars. 

For a moment, your words seem to fail you and no sound comes out when you try to speak. All you can do is stare at them, overcome with fear. You’re back in Jonathan’s once more, the fear strangling you as the memories paralyze you. 

From the top of the bus, Lucas yells, “Steve! Y/N! Watch out!”

“We’re a little busy here!” Steve yells back, eyes still on Dart. 

The Demodog in front of you starts to approach, which finally seems to break you from your spell. Shakily, you tell Steve, “There’s more.”

“What?” He tries to turn around, but you shove at him to not lose sight of Dart. You can’t distract him now. Another Demodog has joined.

“Three o’clock! Right in front of Y/N!” Lucas screams, his voice cracking with fear. 

“Y/N?” Steve fully turns around now when he realizes that you’re also in danger, and when he sees the three other Demodogs, he lets out a curse. “Shit.”

Suddenly, you and Steve are surrounded by Demodogs, more than you ever could’ve imagined. More than the two of you can even fight on your own. 

Back at Jonathan’s, it had taken guns, fire, knives, and bats to kill a grown Demogorgon. 

You don’t think your knives and Steve’s bat will be enough for Demodogs. 

“Steve! Y/N! Abort!” Dustin has flung the bus door open, screeching for the two of you to get out of there. 

It’s too late. Dart has opened his mouth and is running towards you two, his friends joining as well. 

“I go left, you go right!” Steve has just enough time to direct you before Dart lunges. 

You dodge, going right as instructed while Steve flings himself on top of a car to avoid the monsters. As Steve hits Dart with his bat, crouched against the car, you narrowly avoid the other Demodog and drop to the ground as it jumps over your head. “Shit!”

Steve swings his bat again and tries to make his way over to you, but you’re off the ground in a heartbeat and run to him instead. Two of the Demodogs are on him now, and there’s only so much damage his bat can do. Breathless, you run over and stab at their backs, doing everything you can to give Steve an opening to run. 

Faintly, you hear the kids in the background cheering you guys on, urging you two to come home.

One of the Demodogs lets out a harsh screech as your blade pierces its skin. It crumbles to the ground, giving Steve just enough of an opening to begin running towards the bus. When he goes to run, you notice one of the Demodogs eying him, and before you can even process what’s happening, you’re throwing yourself in front of him and you feel nails tear at your ribs.

You scream, clutching at your side in agony, feeling blood quickly beginning to spill from your wound. “Fuck!”

“Y/N!” Steve starts to run toward you, pale with fear. 

“No!” You shove him back towards the bus; you can’t let him get hurt because of you. “Go, I’ll be fine!” 

He tries to argue, but you take a deep breath and grip his jacket tightly, practically flinging him inside the bus just before Dart lunges again. Together, the two of you stumble up the steps and barricade the door. 

As soon as it’s closed, Dart begins slamming against it with his entire body. 

Steve uses his legs to hold the door closed while you lay sprawled on the ground, trying to steady your breathing as more blood spills from you. The room is spinning and you’re pretty sure you can taste blood in your mouth. 

Awesome. Cool. 

The kids are screaming and Dart’s body causes the entire bus to rock as his friends now join, throwing their own bodies against the bus as well.

“Are they rabid or something?” Max screams, but everyone ignores her. 

Steve, quick as ever, finds a spare piece of metal and wedges it against the door and uses his legs again to hold it in place. He looks over at you on the ground and feels his heart jump to his throat. You’re pale, a sheen of sweat now dotted across your forehead, and there’s now a concerningly large pool of blood where you lay. “Dustin, go help your sister!”

Dustin looks up and finally notices your injury and almost faints at the sight. In a daze, he runs over to you and kneels down, terrified of how much blood there is. “Oh my god.”

“I’m fine,” you wince, trying to clench your teeth and bear through the pain. “Honestly, this is like a paper cut.”

“Y/N–” The sound of glass shattering cuts Dustin off as a Demodog breaks through the window. Everyone screams, and your brother grabs your arms and drags you further towards the back of the bus to avoid any glass getting on you. 

Wearily, you watch as Steve does whatever he can with his bat, and a part of you wants to laugh. He looks like he’s playing the hardest game of wack-a-mole ever. 

Meanwhile, Lucas and Max have joined you and Dustin. When they see you, Lucas lets out a choked scream while Max covers her eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Lucas kneels over you as well, and you find his sincerity endearing. He’s always been the sweetest in the group, the most comforting. 

“Never been better,” you wheeze out. 

Dustin instructs Lucas to stay with you while he tries to radio for help. “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God? Anyone!”

“God would be pretty nice to have.” You remark, pain making you even more delirious than usual. 

Max looks at Lucas. “She’s losing it.”

“I think I’m doing great, all things considered.”

Dustin continues to scream into his walkie for help while Lucas tries to stop your bleeding. Max is running around, looking for anything to help, and Steve is still stuck at the front of the bus playing wack-a-mole with Demodogs. 

The situation is so fucking grim, and you’ve never wanted to laugh more. 

Then, to make matters even worse, the ceiling of the bus starts to creak. You see the faint outlines of what suspiciously looks like Demodog footprints on the roof. In slow, agonizing footsteps, Dart makes his way over to the emergency exit on top.

He leers over, and Max, who is at the bottom of the ladder, screams. 

Steve shoves the kids back and you try to get up, but Lucas pushes you down and shakes his head at you. 

“You want some? Come get this!” Steve places himself between Dart and you and the kids, screaming at the thing and waving his bat around, and you’ve never been more attracted to him.

Dart lets out a blood curdling screech, his mouth full of rows of razor sharp teeth that killed your cat just the other day, and you cling onto Lucas’ hand. Another screech, and just before Dart strikes at Steve, it jumps off the bus and runs away. 

Everyone freezes, unsure what to do, as more distant growls and howls can be heard from outside. Steve and the rest stand up, and you notice Lucas holding Max’s hand, and at least something good came out of this hellhole of a day. 

“Any help here?” You finally ask after a minute or so, still lying helplessly on the ground as you bleed.

“Shit!” Steve drops his bat. “Where did it get you, where’s the bleeding? Dustin, did we pack any bandages, or–or an EMT stretcher or–”

“Steve,” you grab his hand, urging him to calm down. “It scratched the fuck out of my ribcage, but I’m not dying. I promise.”

“You’re not?” Dustin asks, tears in his eyes. 

“I’m not. I just…” you shift, wincing at the pain. “I just really need a bandage and I’ll be good as new.”

Steve swallows, a frenzied look in his eyes, and nods. Without thinking, he tears a piece of your bloodied cardigan off and gently lifts your body up so that he can wrap the shred of cloth around you. He weaves it tight, his movements slow and delicate, his eyes never leave yours. 

You can feel his hands shaking as he tends to your wound and ties the cloth with a knot. When he’s done, even though you’re aware of the kids’ eyes on you two, you bring his hands to your lips and kiss them. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” He whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Dustin coughs, which seems to make Steve remember where he is, and he clears his throat. “Right, well. Try not to lose any more blood, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” 

Steve nods and stands back up, knowing Dustin and Lucas will want a moment with you, and makes his way back outside. He knows that they’re all still in danger, even if for some reason the Demdogs seem to have left. 

Once Steve is gone, Dustin and Lucas help you stand, and as soon as you’re up, both boys try their best to give you a hug without hurting you. 

“Don’t do that ever again,” Dustin sniffs, squeezing your uninjured side tightly.

“What he said,” Lucas sniffs as well, though he tries to hide his tears from you. 

You laugh, your own tears evident as you hold the boys tight. “I promise.” 

“You saved Steve,” Max notes, though her tone is neutral, you can see she’s impressed.

“I had to even out a debt.” 

“Guys,” Steve calls from outside. “The coast is clear.”

Slowly, you and the kids make your way out of the bus. It takes some help from both Dustin and Lucas, but eventually you’re able to walk on your own, holding your side, and walk down the steps. 

“You okay?” Steve is by your side as soon as you’ve stepped down, holding you so that he’s not touching your cut. You’re thankful for his support, the pain still making you feel woozy. 

“We’ll talk later,” you motion towards the kids, not wanting to worry them any further. 

He nods, although he hates that you feel like you can’t focus on your own safety. 

“What happened?” Lucas asks the group. 

“I don’t know.” Max looks around, and you think she’s finally starting to understand what she’s gotten herself into. 

Dustin points to you and Steve. “Maybe they scared ‘em off?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head. It couldn’t have been that easy. “No way.”

“They’re going somewhere.” You finish for him, confirming your worst fears. Suddenly, more pain shoots through you and you wince again, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Steve bends his head down, guiding you a bit away from the kids so that they won’t hear. “Hey, we don’t have to follow them. We can go home, you know.”

“We can’t.” You clench your jaw as pain rings throughout your body. The goddamn Demodog got you good. “We have to follow. It’s all connected, Will and his episodes, Nancy and Jonathan with the detective, and I’ll be damned if I back down now.”

“So we follow?” Steve asks, trusting whatever call you make.

You nod, knowing you have to do this. While you guys are safe for now, you know that everyone else has to be in danger; you have to protect them. “Unfortunately.” 

-

⌑ series masterlist

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[un-lawliet]

hii !! i just read your sick gojo getting taken of by reader fic (it was amazing btw <33) and i was wondering if u could write it in reverse? like gojo taking care of sick reader yk

love ur writing and i hope u have a great day 🫶

(THANK YOUUUUU FOR THR REQUEST I LOVE SICK FICS SO MUCH IM SORRY FOR HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS !!!! TY AGAIN)

“Impartial”

— you’re sick, you hate being sick but at least he’s there.

( taking care of Gojo while he’s sick here <3 )

When you woke up this morning you thought you were dying.

Your entire body was flushed, your temperature fluctuating, your breath coming out ragged and raspy against your raw throat.

It took you about thirty seconds of enduring this torture before you rolled over and groaned into your pillow, the action making you dizzy.

Helpless to your symptoms you wiped the sweat off your forehead, throwing the covers off of your clammy body and sighed.

Fuck sakes, you were sick.

Gojo and you were supposed to go to the little cafe just around the corner of your apartment for breakfast this morning, you frown as you recall how excited he was when you asked him to join you.

The thought of food made you cringe, your eyes clamping shut in an attempt to retain you composure.

Nope, you were going to have to cancel.

With a bitter expression you sent him a quick text, telling him of your, in your opinion, life threatening cold, and apologising with a promise that you’ll join him later in the week for waffles.

You were just going to have to sleep it off- you could surely just do that. There was no way you could do anything in this pathetic state.

You close your eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in your head and how you could hear the blood rushing in your ears, and the feeling of your nose being tapped…By what felt like a finger?

…Huh?

You cracked and eye open and almost shrieked when you saw your idiot boyfriend grinning at you through his lashes, his finger delicately placed of the tip of your nose.

“Satoru! What the fuck!” You exclaimed, your heart pounding, glaring at him.

“Hi baby.” He winked, standing up to place a hand on your forehead “Man you’re burning up, how long have you felt sick hm?”

You gape at him, unable to fully register his words.

“How the hell did you get in..? Oh my God did you fucking teleport into my room?” You sat up, pushing his hand away.

The room swayed and you winced as your body protested the sudden movement.

A gentle hand was placed on your shoulder, “Hey, hey take it easy ‘kay?” Gojo raised a hand to brush away the stray hair stuck to your forehead, a soft smile on his face, “I couldn’t just leave my poor sick princess alone when she so desperately needs my help no?”

You frown at him, your hand reaching up to grasp his, “‘M not desperate at all you jerk.”

And Gojo giggles, leaning down to kiss your forehead, “Sure you are! Look at your cute little flushed cheeks.” He coos.

Your grip on his hand tightens, and he beams at how you roll your eyes at him.

“Lemme take care of you yea?”

“You’ll get sick.”

And Gojos mouth twitches, as if holding himself back from reminding you that he is the strongest.

And you hold yourself back from throwing your pillow at his stupid face.

Despite everything however, you found yourself leaning towards him, resigning yourself to his care, ignoring the way his face lights up.

With another quick kiss to your forehead he jumps up, a look of domestic determination on his features.

“Have you ate?”

You shake your head.

And then you’re in the air, well, in his arms, heading towards the kitchen.

“Satoru put me down!”

“No baby, ehe~”

You groan against his neck, and he shivers ever so slightly, gently rocking you in his embrace.

“You need to eat sweet pea! Otherwise you’ll never get better.”

“Yes I know that.” You hiss, “But I can walk to the kitchen without your help.”

Gojo gasps, and you pull yourself from his neck to look at him.

“But baby what if something terrible happened and I wasn’t there to help?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

And you do, he knows you do, they way you whisper a small “thank you” and kiss his neck is telling, and he loves how you let him care for you, loves that you, despite everything, rely on him to help.

“Say ‘Ah.” And you just stare at Gojo, who wiggled a spoon in your face, “Come on baby, say ‘Ah.’-”

“I’m not going to say “Ah” Gojo.” You deadpan.

You’re sat on the counter of your kitchen, the one beside the sink, Gojo claiming it was the easiest place for him to feed you for you to eat.

He had made your favourite comfort meal, the one you told him about months ago, that you were sure he had forgot about.

“I’m really not hungry Toru.” You mumble, feeling a wave of nausea crash over your body.

Gojo deflates, thinking.

When he raises his head his eyes are shining, and you lift a hand to cover his mouth, knowing a ridiculous idea was going to be presented to you.

You’re fast, but he’s faster, the gentle grip on your hand is proof of that, and he smirks.

“If you eat it, I’ll give you a kiss.”

You’re staring at him again, and he only smiles back, his dimples taunting you.

“Fucking fine.” You sigh, Gojo aways gets his way, there’s no point arguing. And although you’d never admit it, out-loud, ever, you kind of wanted a kiss.

And Gojo feels his heart swell with pride as you open your mouth and eat, there’s probably stars in his eyes and he dotes upon you.

One spoonful, then another, and then he’s kissing you all over.

You protest but don’t pull away, and when he finally reaches your lips, you finally smile, the giggle you let out matching his.

You’re on the sofa, on his lap, cradled in his arms as the TV plays a rerun of some shitty movie from the 90’s.

And you let yourself cuddle him, feeling exhausted but safe in his arms, your head doesn’t seem quite as sore as it once was.

He traces little patterns on your back, humming a quiet song meant for your ears only.

“Love you Toru.” You whisper, and he doesn’t reply, just tightens his hold on you, a silent gesture that reassures you that you don’t need to thank him, that he would care about you always, regardless of what you think, or say.

the end.

masterlist here <3

THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST I HOPE THIS WAS OK !!!! IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO WRITE IT ! i love you and i hope you’re well anon :))

(A/N: My sister and I are like alone in our hotel cause our parents went on a cruise this morning.. ANYWAY she like turned to me crying and i was like help are you ok BECAUSE RN IM SO TOTALLY HUNGOVER and then she threw up on me. IT WAS LITERALLY LIKE BIG SISTER MODE WAS ACTIVATED i feel like a fucking doctor, i stole a mop and a spray from one of the cleaning ladies cart SO if you’re a cleaner and you can’t find your mop i’m so sorry that was me i panicked.)

[choccy-milky]

hey! They already asked you but I don't know if you forgot hehe, what are the mbti of Clora and Sebastian? 😸

OK, I FINALLY HAVE AN ANSWER!! took me a hot minute to figure out sebs, but after reading all the pages and comparing, i do think entp fits him the best. also i saw this picture on pinterest about a relationship between isfj and entp and its so true, esp the "do not listen to each other's advice, still get each other out of trouble" LMFAO. also the 'protecting isfj at all costs' 🥺🥺🥺im soft. (ALSO DONT COME AT ME I KNOW I SPELLED KNOWLEDGEABLE WRONG IM TOO LAZY TO FIX IT😭) OKAY!! and its been a while so i'll be using this ask to reply to a buncha others🙏🙏

my fanfic does follow the plot of the game, but with sebastian added to every sidequest/story mission. and then from around the third (niamh's) trial, it starts to branch more into (mostly all) original stuff!^^

yes actually LMAO, clora's lawley-slap wasn't even planned. but as i was writing it i started to get so offended on her behalf i was like GIRL, SLAP THIS BITCH🤬 so she did😇😇 id say its normal, yeah! even tho i stick to my outlines, a lot of what happens just kinda happens without my prior planning as i begin to write bahaha, especially dialogue scenes.

aw, im glad u like my blog so much and that it can help u even in the smallest of ways 😭thank u!!💖💖

BAHAHA AWW TYY IM GLAD U LIKE IT SO MUCH!! i saw u re-reading it recently on wattpad and ur comments always have me dying. also im just gonna address your other ask here in this one, but as u know seb has now met mr.clemons, and you 10000% nailed the dynamic between seb and clora's dad LMFAOO, they will absolutely bond over disagreeing with how careless she is and wanting to protect her/stressing over her LOOL. ty again for all ur messages, i love seeing how much u love my art/fic😭💖

OMG u are so right i need to draw this

also god idk....following the sebinis example, i guess they'd be...sebora?? reminds me of sephora LMAO. ive also had someone call them "alliteration shipping" which i think is so cute BAHAHA. HONESTLY PPL CAN JUST SAY WHATEVER THEY WANT, i aint picky.

oh god its been too long since ive read the books (tho i do really wanna re-read them esp in the winter) but my fav movie is half blood prince, just because i love all the ron/hermione moments and the highschool drama BAHAHA. what do u mean harry potter isnt a romcom??? ok and last but DEFS not least

THE UNHINGED ENERGY OF THIS ASK CRACKED ME UP SO MUCH WHEN U SENT IT BAHAHAH, couldnt even fit the whole thing in my screenshot. IM GLAD U LIKED/HATED THE CHAP, and also your pfp just makes everything you say funnier, i love it LMAOOO. ty🙏🙏

[seivsite]

hi miru!! can i request prompt 5 from ur milestone event with nagi hehe hope u enjoy writing it ><

DEALING WITH SICK NAGI.

prompt: peppering kisses all over their face nonstop, making the other laugh out a plea for mercy.

includes: nagi seishiro x fem!reader. hinted college au, sick nagi, he’s a clingy boy, unedited — wc: 434

Nagi had fallen sick. (Name) found out from Reo after he messaged her about Nagi’s condition. Reo had asked her to check up on Nagi since he couldn’t do so at the moment. After finishing university, she hurriedly went to Nagi’s home. Upon arrival, she swiftly unlocked the door using the spare keys Nagi had given her some time ago. As she stepped inside, she called out his name.

“Sei?” (Name) called, removing her shoes and heading towards his bedroom. “Is that you, (Name)?” a hoarse voice replied, and there she saw Nagi, bundled up in blankets. His usually neat hair was now tousled, and his nose appeared reddened.

“Loveeee, where are you?” he whined, struggling to free himself from the clutches of the blankets to search for (Name). Sensing his predicament, she took it upon herself to help him unravel, and Nagi’s head finally emerged, instantly brightening as he caught sight of her face.

“(Nameee)!” He pulled her onto the bed, enveloping her in a tight embrace, showering her face with peppering kisses. (Name) surrendered to the warmth of Nagi’s affection, delicately grasping his shoulders.

“S-Sei! Please, stop—Hey!” (Name) protested, attempting to thwart his kisses. Yet, his strength surpassed hers, resulting in a gentle peck on her lips. Finally, exhausted, he collapsed onto the bed, pulling (Name) into an intimate embrace, cradling her against his chest like a cherished teddy bear.

“Well, aren’t you clingy,” she muttered, surrendering to Nagi’s embrace. He whined and tightened his grip around her waist, while (Name) responded by gently stroking his hair. Suddenly, she remembered her purpose and made a move to leave the bed, realising she could search for some medicine.

“What are you doing? Stay with me,” he pouted.

“For the love of God, Sei, you need your medicine. I can’t let you stay sick for too long,” she replied, continuing to pat his head as it rested on her lap.

He grumbled in annoyance, then chose to hug the pillow beside him. (Name) sighed at his playful antics and swiftly went to fetch the medicine and a glass of water.

Returning, (Name) found Nagi still asleep, his chest rising and falling gently as soft snores escaped his lips. Shaking her head, she decided to lie down beside him, planning to administer the medicine once he woke up.

Nagi instinctively clung to her waist, finding comfort with his head resting against her collarbone. In (Name)’s eyes, he resembled a contented, oversized cat. She placed a tender kiss on his head, gently running her fingers through his hair before succumbing to a peaceful slumber herself.

NOTES. i made it fem reader bc there was no stated gender and ive been dying to write a fem!reader drabble im sorry to my non fems Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) very long overdue my laziness stopped me from finishing this hours ago LOL sorry

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

[sabh0]

What's your opinion on the anime? I find it pretty funny, but I can't say that I am not disappointed to see so many scenes missing.

For exemple, I wanted to see Dazai cry laugh at Chuuya's young mistress act, show that it was a joke shared by both of them, rather than one made to us at the expense of Chuuya. They took a genuinely funny moment and made me cringe SO hard for no reason T^T

God i could go on for hours about how Bones ruined this series. I'm obviously thankful we have an anime adaptation but. Well just compare bsd anime to jjk one or smth and yeah.

I will be complaining more under the cut,,

First the overall writing choices:

-Deleting or changing skk scenes to the point im not even shocked when ppl think these two actually somehow hate each other.

-The way they portrayed Sigma. They deleted half of his personality and backstory. And just speedrunned the Sky Casino arc like if seeing that place was giving them nightmares. No wonder he gets mischaracterized now.

-Tachihara's internal conflict about belonging to either Port Mafia or The Hunting Dogs? Bones never heard about it. It's not like IT'S A VERY IMPORTANT PLOT POINT.

-Akutagawa's whole character in the anime is just 'edgy and angry and bad grr'. In the manga he had some 'kind' or even seelf-reflection moments that were ommited in the anime. Like where he realizes defeating Atsushi didn't satisfy him (ship fight, season 1). Or when he gives files about the orphanage Director to Atsushi and says he won't fight him today because he lost someone impirtant to him. Sskk vs Fukuchi fight?? No scene where Sskk r helping each other walk. Instead we get Akutagwa just pushing Atsushi away. Won't even start on that last smile that looked more like another angry expression.

-THE WAY THEY CHANGED "DAZAI'S ENTRANCE EXAM" INTO SOME CURRENT TIMELINE EPISODES. IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY LIKE. THIS NOVEL WAS SO GOOD. Showing both Dazai and Kunikida's characters and partnership so well. But no. Let's just??? Put Atsushi there. Let's delete the fact this thing happened 2 years ago. And let's delete everything that was actually important about it, too.

-also some changes in the Dark Era arc. Like. Lord. Dazai is so much more emotional in the novel. His expressions r described so well. But the anime either shows him from the back at those moments (him finding out Oda was almost killed by a sniper in Ango's room) or just deletes/changes the thing (Oda dying. This scene is so emotional in the novel. From the description u can tell Dazai was crying/on the verge of it as Odasaku died. But in the anime he looks calm and then we get a far aeay frame and he just. Gets up and that's it yeah.) They also deleted the scene of him visiting Oda's grave.

-The way they rushed seasons 4 and 5. Just to give us an episode that goes further than the manga and has the shittiest writing ever when it comes to skk's plan revelation (im so angry about this u guys have no idea. I sincerely believe that if this episode never came out, the manga would go differently bc there's no way that Asagiri who wrote things like Stormbringer suddenly thought that some dollar store vampire make up will fool a guy who's centuries old and literally lived next to vampires. But well!! Seems like these two speeches Dazai gave weren't important at all and now we can just forget about them yippiee)

I could definitely mention WAYY more examples of that but this is already long af. Like guys. I know u cant fit everything in an animated show. It takes time to make it and all but. Bro. The character's in the anime r so shallow compared to their original versions.

.

Now onto the artstyle of the anime.

Lord. U know? It was actually pretty in the first 2 seasons. The official arts at the time were also really nice to look at.

No idea what happened later. Why did Bones suddenly decide that those ugly turtle smiles r gonna become the main thing in the character design. Why so many fisheyes. Atp sometimes i look at the official art and i go oh lord even i could fix it. It really feels like they draw some characters ugly on purpose now (Chuuya being the main victim for unknown reasons).

Tho i must say they have their moments even now. Some last episodes of season 5 weren't really bad, especially the Meursault part (love them for animating Dazai and Sigma dancing so well. And for that 101 animation. And maybe for the heartattack they gave me with 109 and Chuuya shooting Dazai so many times.)

.

On some other things, i really like the music! Bsd openings and endings never miss,,,

[atlasofthestaars]

Can you write something where the reader is sick, and their love interest Smoke helps take care of them? Thank you!

NOTE: IM SO SORRY HOW LONG THIS TOOK ANON </3 ITS FINALLY HERE

Tried to make this lighthearted and funny!

Sorry this is really short (or short for how long you waited for this) </3 I wanted to finally get this out and I couldn’t think of much to extend this

SICK DAYS [SMOKE X READER]

Colds were perhaps the worst thing ever.

Okay, you were being dramatic. You’d never admit that outloud, and especially in this state, but you were. They definitely weren’t the worst thing ever, but you loathe being sick. It sucked the life out of you, it made you miserable, and everyone wanted to avoid you. Not to mention, even after the worst is over, you’d be left with sniffles and coughs for an unreasonable amount of time.

Why couldn’t being sick just be a one day deal? It was all too easy to get sick anyways, one tiny mistake then you were suddenly down on your luck and getting sick. It didn’t help that you were staying in possibly the worst place right now to deal with a cold. The Lin Kuei temple was not the best place with its freezing temperatures to recover from a cold. 

Haha, cold. Cruel irony.

Grumbling, you sighed as you pulled the covers over yourself, curling into a tight ball as you closed your eyes. This way, you’d be warmer. And then maybe, just maybe, you could sleep and wake up and suddenly be better. It was definitely wishful thinking, but it was better than nothing.

Sadly, your plan was thwarted in a matter of minutes.

The door of your room opened, shining the light leaking in from the hallway directly on your face. You flinched at the sudden change in light, a frown tugging harder at your lips. It was as if the elder gods were mocking you. They enjoyed your pain, surely. 

You squinted open your eyes, nearly hissing at the light. Your grumpiness was somewhat quelled as you noticed just who was the figure who had decided to disrupt your attempt to hibernate your way into wellness. 

Tomas, the light of your life. Not that he knew it, nor did you ever mention it to him.

You blinked, focusing on his form which was being outlined by the light outside. By the elder gods, it was making him look like an angel. Not that you didn’t think he wasn’t an angel already, but now he especially looked like one. Especially when you spotted the things he was carrying in his hands.

Water and soup. 

Nevermind, maybe the elder gods were blessing you today. Maybe they pitied your sickly state, so they sent an angel to nurse you back to health. Surely that must be it.

“Are you feeling better?” Tomas asked as he set down the bowl of soup and water on the nightstand. He then knelt next to your bed. You tried to take a sniff of the soup, before remembering sorrowfully that your nostrils were clogged. You mourned the loss of smell, suddenly. 

“I think I’m dying.” You croaked out, using your status as a sick person to be even more dramatic than usual. It was a treat to yourself, to help you cope with your status. You groaned as you shifted in bed, wanting the pain of being sick to end already. You glanced at the soup and water, before glancing back at Smoke to see his reaction.

“You wouldn’t be dying if you didn’t go out in the snow like I warned you not to.” Tomas chided you, yet at the same time he had a smile on his face, and a playful note to his voice. You stared at his face, making sure to commit it to memory. It was going to be one of the few things that was going to get you through this sickness.

Or the last thing you remembered before you passed away from this illness like a sickly Victorian child.

“Well I’m not a coward.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you recalled how you had brazenly rushed out into the snow. You were too overjoyed by the snowfall to bundle up. Plus, you weren’t out there for too long, you assumed nothing was going to happen to you.

Maybe pride was your downfall. 

“But you are sick now.” Tomas quipped back, raising his eyebrows to emphasize his point. You grumbled, not thinking of a proper comeback to his statement. You blinked in surprise as you felt his hand brush over your forehead. You were glad your face was already flushed from sickness so your blush didn’t stick out. “Seems you don’t have a fever.” 

“Yeah.” You said, stunned for a moment as you recalled his gentle touch as he retracted his hand. You didn’t care how warm your sickness was making you feel, you missed the soft warmth from his hand. You cleared your throat as you glanced at the bowl. “So, what type of soup did you bring?” You asked, all too curious.

You were shocked to hear it was your favorite soup. He had brought you your favorite soup when you were sick to make you feel better. You closed your eyes for a second, to thank the elder gods above that you had met this man.

If it weren’t for your sickness, you’d kiss the man.

That, and well, you were too much of a coward to tell him your feelings. 

“Did you hear me?” You were taken out of your stupor, looking at the man as you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to recall if you had processed what he said. You were thankful he was patient as he repeated himself. “Are you well enough to feed yourself?”

“What.”

“Come on, sit up.” He urged you. Confused, you sat up. You reached out to grab the stack of tissues on your nightstand and blew into it. While you didn’t find it dignified to blow your stuffy nose in front of your crush, you found it was far less embarrassing than to drip snot in front of him. You grimaced as you tossed the tissue into the trash can. As you looked up, you were surprised to see a spoon of your favorite soup hovering in front of your face. “Here.”

“Huh.” You said, dumbfounded. Maybe the sickness was taking your intelligence too, because it felt like right now all you could muster were confused sounds and words. You blinked as you watched Tomas nod towards you, gently lifting the spoon closer to your mouth. Panicking, you leaned forward and ate the soup.

How is it that him being here made your favorite soup just a bit better?

“Good.” Tomas praised, and you felt yourself flush at the simple word. Does he know how much you adored him? No, and you doubted how much even these simple actions meant to you. Happily, he seemed to urge you to eat more, and you complied. You were not going to pass up on this opportunity to bask in his attention. “You know, I worry for you, sometimes. No one in their right mind would normally run into the snow like that.”

“I’m not a fragile baby.” You huffed stubbornly, sniffing. Yet on the inside you were fawning. He worried for you. Maybe it’s because he thought you were insane, but he worried for you! That had to mean something, right? The gray clad man shot you a look, and you pouted. “Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean anything.”

“Uh huh.” Smoke replied, sass in his tone. Still, he gave you a radiant smile as he continued to feed you soup. You felt on top of the world. If only you didn’t feel miserable otherwise, you’d consider getting sick more often so you could bask in his attention.

You glanced at Smoke’s face.

Nevermind, you would gladly trade your health if you could continue to be pampered by this man.

You had several blissful minutes of Smoke feeding you soup. As you finished the bowl, he let out a satisfied hum as he set the emptied bowl on the nightstand next to you. You also drank more from the glass of water he brought.

You were feeling a bit better already! Or maybe that was just the effect Smoke had on you. You weren’t certain which one it was. Maybe it was both.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” Tomas said, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You were so, so lucky to know this man. You inhaled, holding your breath as he pressed his hand to your forehead again. His touch lingered longer this time. And you weren’t sure if you were being delusional or not when you swore his thumb brushed your cheek. “Good, no fever.” He murmured, though you weren’t sure why he checked again.

Still, with the way he was looking at you, you had no room to question or complain about that. Certainly he just wanted to make sure you were feeling better. 

You sat there, taking in the sight of Tomas. His warm, gray eyes. His nice, fluffy hair that you always had to hold yourself back from playing with. Your eyes traced over his cheekbones down to his chin, and for the most briefest of seconds, you gazed at his lips.

Why did you have to be sick!?

“Did you take any medicine yet?” He asked, peering at you curiously. You froze, completely forgetting that medicine was a thing. You had just been planning on honestly sleeping this stupid sickness off. Medicine would have definitely helped.

“Uh, no.” You admit, sheepishly. You watched as Smoke playfully rolled his eyes before pulling out a small bottle from his pocket. 

“Good thing I brought some for you.” Smoke said, an almost smug tone in his voice. He poured out two pills, and glanced at you. “I know you too well.” He shook the bottle in his hand as if to emphasize the point.

There was something all too sweet in his voice that made you want to swoon and fall into his arms.

He held out his hand, the two small pills in his palms. Quickly, you reached for them. You ignored the rising heat to your face as your hand brushed his. You really, really wanted to hold his hand. They felt warm and soft.

You felt his expectant eyes on you as you reached for the last of your water. You popped the two pills in your mouth, and you quickly tilted your head back as you took a mouthful of water. You swiftly swallowed, and you let out a sigh as the pills disappeared into your stomach.

“Thank you, Tomas.” You croaked out, and immediately wanted to slap yourself for. Why did your voice have to give out on you on what was supposed to be such a heartfelt moment? Your worries all melted away as he shot you the most beautiful grin you’ve seen in your life.

“Anything for you.” Tomas said, his voice gentle and soft. He said your name with reverence, as if you were the most important thing. He grabbed your hand. And held it carefully between his own. Your eyes dropped to his hand holding, and it felt like the wind was knocked out of you. You weren’t sure if you could pass off the heat on your cheeks as you simply being sick.

“Did you hear what I said?”

Snapping out of your daze, you looked up to see Smoke’s intent gaze on you. You opened your mouth, trying to come up with the correct answer. You certainly couldn’t say that you were too busy swooning over the man to hear what he said. But you couldn’t just say anything because then it’d be obvious you hadn’t been paying attention.

And yet, it didn’t matter.

“You’re too cute.” Tomas said softly, and you suddenly wondered if you had been dreaming all this all this time. Getting up, he leaned over and gently pressed a featherlight kiss onto your forehead. He then drew back with a soft smile. “Get some rest, okay?” He murmured, cupping your cheek gently, rubbing his thumb against it before letting go.

You watched wordlessly as he gathered the bowl and water glass. He turned around and sent you another sweet smile. And you swore in his eyes he had the hint of the smuggest attitude you’ve ever seen on him as he looked you up and down.

He must know how much you adored him. That bastard.

As the door closed, you sat in silence as your face continued to burn. Your heart was beating far too fast for what was healthy for a sick person. You lifted your hand to brush against where his lips had met your forehead, and you felt like you were falling in love all over.

Maybe being sick wasn’t so bad.

“Look who’s the reckless one, now?”

You grinned as you entered Tomas’ room, a bowl of soup and a glass of water in your hands. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the eye roll he sent you as he blew his nose. Still, he sent you a weak smile as he laid in his bed. He didn’t catch your sickness as bad as you, but he was still sick regardless. Bumping into the door, you closed it as you approached him.

“Maybe it was reckless, but the look on your face was worth it.” Smoke said, a hint of smugness in his voice as he smiled at you. You scoffed, but you knew you couldn’t even fake being mad at this man. Setting down the bowl of soup and the water, you sat on his bed beside him.

“Was it worth it?” 

“Anything is worth it if it involves you.”

Sighing dreamily, you cupped his cheek as you leaned forward to press a soft kiss on his lips. You marveled as his face bloomed into a soft pink. He held your hand in place, leaning into your soft touch. Your heart skipped a beat.

“I don’t think you should be kissing sick people.” Smoke teased, his eyes squinting at you as his eyebrows raised. You rolled your eyes. Raising your hand, you pinched his other cheek, eliciting an exaggerated ‘ouch’ from the man.

“Says you.” You huffed, pouting. 

“My bad.” Tomas chuckled. “I really couldn’t resist though.” He admitted as he looked up at you. Why did he have to have the dreamiest eyes in all of Earthrealm? You returned his smile, rubbing his cheek gently with your thumb. 

Yeah, getting sick wasn’t so bad after all.

[thenbecauseggoes]

A/N: I think im lowkey back??? guys this took soooo long to finish and im ngl i kinda love it. but i also have lost like a tonnnn of motivation to write for Evan, im in a bit of a 1975 era... so if u guys like them feel free to send in some recs lololol. kk love uuuuu

warnings: panic attack (kinda), oral (f receiving), pnv, unprotected sex (plsss use protection lolz), lmk any i missed

WC: 1288

based on this request

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All I Need To Hear

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It wasn’t that you were entirely insecure, it was just a crazy party. A crazy party that Evan brought you as his girlfriend to. In front of paparazzi and other actors. To make things even worse, you were his first girlfriend since he split with Emma Roberts. You loved Emma, had nothing against her, but people certainly didn’t like you because of her. You could practically already see the comments on Twitter saying stuff like you were a knockoff Emma or just a rebound. You could even see the comments saying that Evan was a creep for dating someone so young. It wasn’t like you were terribly young. You were 22 and could make your own decisions, and you didn’t find Evan weird for loving you, but people are crazy. 

An arm sneaking around your waist grounds you back to reality, Evan was engaging in conversation with some other actor. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes and your breath started to shorten. To stop yourself from embarrassing yourself or Evan you excuse yourself from the conversation and walk to the restroom. Upon walking in you realize it’s just a little room so you lock the door and look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was so nicely done for the event, you realize you have a bit of mascara smudged around your eye. ‘Oh god, was that there when they were taking photos?’ you think. Brushing it off as just a silly thought. You just let the tears freely fall from your face and into the sink. Eventually opting to grab a paper towel in an attempt to not ruin your makeup. 

Suddenly the door to the bathroom rattles, startling you. “I’m in here” you choke out, trying to sound as confident as possible. 

“Baby, are you alright?” the other voice said. Oh god it was Evan. 

“I’m fine” you attempt to say without your voice cracking despite tears continuing to well up in your eyes at an alarming rate. 

“Let me in,” Evan says again, worried clearly in his voice. You timidly open the door and let him in when he turns around and locks it again. He notices your tear stained face and immediately rushes to grab a paper towel and dry your face. “Can I hug you?” you nod again and he throws his arms around you, holding you tight to his chest. 

“They hate me Evan” you choke out finally after what felt like forever. 

“Who does?” Evan pulls you back to look in his eyes, he's worried someone hurt you clearly.

“All those people, I'm too much. They all hate me because of Emma and like my age and I just know they do,” you speak through a sob. 

“Oh honey,” Evan coos, rubbing small circles onto your back, “nobody hates you. I was just talking to people and they agree you’re so great.” His words help to settle you down and you stop crying. “Come on baby, let's go home” He says, grabbing your hand. 

“I don’t wanna ruin your time at the party though,” you really don’t want to make him leave, these things are important.

“I wanna leave anyways, come on, please, can we go home,” you nod feebly and follow him out of the party. 

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You walk into your shared apartment and immediately make a beeline for the bedroom, dying to take off your dress. You’re halfway done getting undressed before you feel arms snake around your waist and open mouth kisses being placed to your throat. “Evan,” you trail off, leaning into his touch.

“Let me take care of you baby,” he moans against you, “please.” You nod to give him permission and he drags you to the bed, laying you down gently on the bed. He's working down your body with kisses that ignite your skin. Goosebumps rise on every spot he touches, taking off your dress leaving you in just your bra and panties. “Been dying to do that ever since you showed me that dress baby,” he speaks softly against your skin. You whimper under him as he removes his dress shirt, casting it onto the floor beside your dress. He crawls up onto the bed and mouths at your breasts, sneaking his hand around you to undo the clasp on your bra. He throws it onto the floor as soon as it’s off, letting out a groan at the sight before leaning down and taking one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking. 

He waits until you’re practically begging him to just do something until he’s kissing down the valley of your breasts and down the rest of your body. Once he gets to your panties he's pulling them down your legs to join the pile of clothes on the ground. He looks up at you for a sort of silent permission to let him in and you give a nod. He wastes no time in licking a broad stripe up your cunt and attaching his lips to your clit, making you moan out in pleasure. You’re practically screaming his name already and he's barely done anything. He brings one of his fingers up to your entrance and slowly pushes it in, leaving you to squirm and writhe under him. He groans into your pussy, the vibrations sending you over the edge. 

“Evan- I- fuck- i’m gonna,” you whimper out again.

“Come for me baby,” Evan groans as you come undone and come all over his face. He groans, coming up to kiss your lips, letting you taste yourself on him. You moan at the taste and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. “Can I fuck you now?” He asks, sheepishly almost. 

“Please,” you smile onto his lips as he undoes his belt buckle. He unbuttons his pants and takes his cock out of his boxers. He's rock hard, leaning down to your ear he whispers.

“See what you do to me baby?” He kisses the shell of your ear, you’re not above begging but you certainly don’t want to let up so easily, luckily he makes an easy decision for you by suddenly pushing into you. “So wet,” he breathes out.

“Only for you baby” you whimper

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers before thrusting into you, he connects your lips together, swallowing any moans or whimpers you have left. He disconnects your lips to leave marks on your neck, you squirm your hips and whimper loudly. “Shhh, it’s okay baby, I got you” he says gently. Holding you even closer he thrusts harder, snaking two fingers down to rub at your clit. You cry out and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Evan I can’t-” you trail off

“It’s okay baby, i’m right there with you” he smiles as he kisses you. You both come undone with moans filling up the room. You stay like that for a moment, just basking in it. A dusty blush covers Evan’s face and you swear he’s never looked so beautiful. “Can I pull out honey?” he asks as you nod, wincing at the emptiness that follows. Evan comes back into the room with a damp washcloth and uses it to wipe your legs, apologizing profusely when he has to clean your ruined cunt. He kisses your legs and throws the dirty cloth in the hamper, he hands you a large t-shirt and picks you up to put it on you. 

“Love you Evan” you say, exhausted and letting your head fall onto the pillows. 

“Love you too baby” he plants a kiss on your lips and throws an arm across your waist to hold you in place before you both drift off to sleep

✮ my recs are open

✮ masterlist

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[eggsnbac0n]

Hello, excuse me.

can you please do a Carlos x reader where the reader is hopeless romantic that has fallen victim to Carlos’ devilish charm. is going through a very serious case of love at first sight and is dying to get more of his attention while he’s working.

*hair twirling*

who would be a victim to his charm? definitely one of my interesting requests!

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Love At Work

CARLOS OLIVEIRA X READER

so uh been gone for a long time ahaha.. i dont have the motivation to write sorry yall but im always grateful for the support ❤️

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Working for Umbrella hasn't been always easy. Death here and there... yeah pretty tiring, especially since you're a rookie.

BUT death wasn't always lurking around.

Carlos Oliveira. Dangerously good at his job and dangerously good looking

Pictures of him on your locker made your day. This was your way to find some hope around this job.

You left hearts around his face. Even kiss marks on his face.

Sigh... ❤️

As you left the locker room, you looked across and saw the men's locker room.

And just at an angle, you could see Carlos' chest covered in water. His roughed but soft hands gliding and sliding down his chest to his abs. Trying to dry up his perfect mascular body.

"Move along, Rookie," said you're fellow colleague, Serena.

As you arrived at your desk, a yellow sticky note saying, "Like what you saw at the locker room?" and next to it was a winky face, signed by Carlos himself.

"What the..."

"Hey Y/N! Wanna talk to you real quick, sweet cheeks..." Carlos smirks.

"Yeah? What's up?" you walked up to him. Carefully making sure you didn't trip due to nervousness.

Did he saw you? No way, you only took a quick glance, right? Oh god hes getting closer.

"Just wanna ask: you hiding somethin? You know since you're face shows that you are," he chuckles, smirking at you.

God...

"I...okay fine...I couldnt help it," you shyly respond.

He chuckles, "I'm just that irresistible! I don't blame ya, honey." Not the cute nicknames... "I've heard from a birdie that you have pictures of me and put kiss marks on this beautiful face," he smiles.

"How did you..."

Carlos grabbed your wrist and guides you to the break room.

Surprisedly, there was no one there.

Carlos leans closer, whispering to your ear, "I know everything, you having a thing for me, I know everything, angel."

He looks at your face, already drenched in embarrassment.

"Carlos, I like you a lot, no, love! Sorry, if this confession is cheesy, but you give me hope. This job is so miserable, but god you... you're everything..." If only he saw the hearts in your eyes.

Carlos softens his face.

"Oh, sweetheart...I love you too," He smiles.

You both hugged.

"I can show something else that can you make you feel very hopeful," He kisses your cheek.

"Make me sweat, make me hotter

Make me lose my breath, make me water."

Water, Tyla

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Got any requests go right ahead! But i cant assure you ill answer it asap :p

[venicebitch00]

Hey! Wondering if you would write a Roy Kent x reader established relationship fic

Something angsty with a nice fluffy ending ??

Thanks! X

stay, stay, stay

roy kent x reader

a/n: apologies in advance im awful at writing angst but i loveee writing for roy <3 thank you for requesting!

Roy Kent was a grouchy old man. Or at least that’s how he saw himself. He was moody and short temped, he fucking hated talking about his feelings and could barely walk up a fucking flight of stairs. And after that fucking Man City match and Jamie fucking Tartt he wasn’t even a footballer anymore. 

You were a heaven-sent fucking angel. Or at least that’s how Roy Kent saw you. You were smart and caring and funny and so fucking gorgeous. Roy knew how lucky he got with you, he heard it all the time, from tabloids to in the locker room, even from his own sister. How did someone as sweet and sickenly fucking perfect as you end up with a jaded man like himself. 

“C’mon love I wish you would talk to me” You took a seat by your boyfriend on his cold leather couch and handed him a cup of tea just how he liked it. 

Roy only grumbled in response, to which you shot him a pointed glare back, ‘Don’t know what there is to talk about, I’m a old fucking man who fucked his knee and now can’t play fucking football anymore. That’s fucking that.” 

“No that’s not ‘that fucking that’, Roy” you set your tea down to face Roy, “This is a big fucking deal and you are allowed to be sad or upset or just fucking angry.” your voice began to raise in frustration, “I just wish-I wish you would talk to me, or someone about this, Roy” your angered turn into desperation and your glossy eyes and furrowed brows made Roy’s heart feel like it was being squeezed dry. 

“I don’t need to talk to someone” he spat. 

“Roy-” 

“God you always fucking do this. You treat people like little fucking broken toys and are just dying to fix them all, aren’t you? Well I'm not going to be one of your toys to mend back together, alright? So why don’t you just leave me the fuck alone” 

The second Roy saw your trembling lips and the pool of tears that welled up in your eyes, he immediately regretted what he had said. He didn’t even know why he said it in the first place. It wasn’t even true, he knew that. But in the moment Roy would of said anything to avoid admitting how much the prospect of retiring from the only thing he felt good was killing him. 

You stared at him blankly for a moment, stunned at what just happened. Roy, your Roy, your beautiful and loving Roy had just practically cussed you out. A simple “Fuck you, Roy” was all he heard as you grabbed your purse  and marched out of his house making sure to slam his door. 

The sound of your car starting up in his driveway was enough to snap Roy out of his trance, and immediately a feeling of disgust washed over him. “Fuck.”

You woke up the next morning with puffy eyes and a throbbing headache. A sore reminder of last night's events. After storming out of Roy’s house you contemplated calling Keeley and Rebecca and asking for an emergency girl’s night. Instead you opted for weeping in your bed and getting sloshed in the comfort of your own home. 

Since usually your Sundays consisted of lounging around the house with Roy, you didn’t have any plans for the day, you refused, however to sit around a mope in bed all day long so you sent a text to Rebecca and Keeley 

“Brunch this morning? In desperate need of a mimosa x”  

To which Keeley instantly replied

“Course babe! I can pick you up at your place around 11? xx”

“Perfect.”

Rebecca just liked your original message, which you knew was her way of agreeing. So you dragged yourself out of bed and put on your favourite sundress (which also happened to be Roy’s favourite as well, but you didn’t want to think too much about that) and started to head out the door, but before you could get your keys, the doorbell rang. Expecting it to be Keeley you scurried to the door, only to find your boyfriend looking like a sad puppy. 

“Roy” was all you could manage to say. 

“What the fuck you look beautiful” he breathed. This made you notice how truly disheveled Roy looked, which admittedly made you feel slightly better. 

Your silence pushed Roy to keep talking “Fuck listen I don’t think I’m ready to talk about football or my knee or Jamie fucking Tartt but I want you to know that I’m so fucking sorry and I was the biggest prick last night” 

“You’re right, you were” you scoffed “but I get it, you’re going through a lot of shit right now and you deserve to be a little prick sometimes. I just want you to know that you can talk to me about whatever you’re feeling, I mean come on I’ve seen you cry over the List Conquers All finale, I don’t think it can get much worse than that” you both laughed. 

“I fucking love you, you know that” Roy reached forward grabbing your waist, shutting the door behind him and attacking your neck, making you sigh into his embrace. 

“Mmm no I don’t think I do” you teased.

“Well I do. I love you.” he kissed your neck “you’re so sweet” next your jaw “and brilliant” then your temple “and so fucking sexy in that goddamn dress” he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist prompting a loud giggle from you. 

“Fuck what time is it?” you pulled back from his dizzying kiss. 

“Why, you’re gonna time me?” he smirked suggestively. 

You swatted his chest, “no I'm going to brunch with Keeley and Rebecca” 

“Fuck no, you can’t leave me here when you’re looking like that”

“Consider it your punishment for last night” you hopped down from Roy, already missing the feeling of his body against yours. 

“I could think of a few much more fun ways to punish me” 

“I’ll see you in a couple hours” you dismissed, trying to hide the blush behind your cheeks. 

“I’ll be waiting” and he shot you one of his dizzying and incredibly rare Roy Kent smiles leaving you with one thought. 

You just might have to cut this brunch a little shorter than expected. 

[squidthesquidd]

masked au!!!! ok so i may actually turn this into a fic and a few comics because im a lil obsessed with it :DDD

heres some sketches of my Emmet design for it!

explaination in the readmore!!

So!! Basically, after Ingos disappearance, Emmet started to hate his reflection cus it reminded him of ingo, so he took to wearing a mask. Over time, that mask became a sort of comfort item for him so now he rarely ever takes it off, and can become very distressed when not wearing it.

Eventually, Emmet gets sent to hisui cus he fought god and arceus was like "This guy is so silly i'll send him to hisui too :)"

So then he falls from the sky in the middle of nowhere

he has no pokemon, no materials, but he still has his mask

after wandering for a very long time he straight up passes out from exhaustion, and later wakes up in a dark cave

turns out, a crap ton of previously undiscovered hisui joltiks and galvantula found him, and because of being shot out of a portal and weird magic, he is absolutely full of weird energy, so the bugs took a liking to him and brought him back to their cave :]

Hisui joltiks/galvantula are fire and ground types! joltiks are like little blocks of coal with legs and leave charcoal EVERYWHERE

Anyway, guess what is relatively close to this hidden cave full of spiders? haha yeah its the diamond clan

So basically, Emmet is just chilling with his new spider besties, recovering from almost dying, and some diamond clan discover the cave!! and they see Emmet and they're like "ah yes this guy is this massive spider’s warden. definitely" and Emmet just goes with it cus why not? they're the first people he sees so he wants to get on their good side

so stuff happens and Emmet is now kinda an "unofficial" member of the diamond clan. he gets a diamond tunic cus hes kinda another diamond warden, but also he kinda just chills in his cave most of the time and will only leave if he absolutely has to. he's still searching for Ingo, but everything is just wayyyyy to much so he's gonna hang out with his spiders

The whole “being sent to an ancient time” thing and just being so very mentally ill caused Emmet to become very reluctant to speak, so communication was a bit difficult since no one in the diamond clan knew modern sign language. There was also a language barrier, but Emmet is a quick learner and manage to learn the language pretty fast :D he mostly communicates in writing since there's still no sign language option

When first meeting people, they asked Emmet to take off his mask, which kinda made a bad first impression on him so he doesn't really like being around people now :/ but his annoyance with everyone around him kind of accidentally made him befriend melli, cus their both petty lil shits that don't like people much

Melli comes over to his cave and they shit talk people together, and Melli is actually one of the first people Emmet become comfortable talking to verbally because of this! they both think the other is annoying but they bond over it :]

literally this is the strangest relationship to ever come out of one of my aus. these two have never interacted ever. Why did I decide Melli was the one that Emmet should interact with?

these twinks are hanging out in a spider infested cave gossiping about people

Also!! Hisui joltiks absorb thermal energy instead of static energy, so Emmet is often very cold to the touch cus his bugs are stealing his body heat. This also makes him very tired a lot so you can often find him passed out in a pile of soot.

pls ask me questions about my au I want to talk about it so much

[ghostphobic]

 ╼ born to die

abby anderson x reader

cw - heavy angst , talks of death , actual death / implications of suicide , implications of anxiety , mention of hyperventilating , not a happy ending in the slightest.

a/n - got hit with another wave of inspiration. most of my writing is heavily influenced by songs im listening to. my favorite type of fics to read are angst with a happy ending, but i’ve always liked writing angst with no happy ending. i’ve just never ventured this far into it, so it’s a little bit experimental on my part. enjoy ! 

(disclaimer) : this has not been proofread 

You were an optimist. Well, as optimistic as one could be living in a world where infection and death lurked at every corner. 

Abby was a pessimist. She looked at things realistically and logically, but negatively. 

The two of you were different, but the balance worked well. She kept you in check, and you kept her in check. Rarely did it ever cause one of you to upset the other, but there was one night when your optimistic outlook struck a nerve in Abby. 

"Sometimes I feel like dying wouldn't be so bad." You had said one night while the two of you were lying next to each other. Her hand, that had been aimlessly playing with your hair, halted its movements. You feel her lean up and then her face comes into view. 

"Where the fuck did that come from?" She asked. Her tone sounded... annoyed? Maybe a little bit angry? You couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly, you just knew she wasn't happy. 

"It's nothing, Abs. I was just thinking out loud. I didn't even really mean to say it." 

"No, no." She said, leaning up further to create more distance between the two of you. "It came from somewhere. I want to know what you mean." 

You decided to sit up, realizing this conversation had taken a more serious turn. "I guess I just... God, Abby. I don't know. I wouldn't even know how to describe it. It was just a thought. That's all. 

"Do you feel like you don't have anything to live for?" She asked.

You could tell where she was going with this, and you were quick to try to repair it. "No. Not at all. I have plenty to live for. I have you, and that alone is enough." You sigh, trying to figure out how to word this so you don't hurt or scare her any further. "Me thinking that is just my own way of coping. We face death every day, so if and when my moment comes, I don't want to feel scared. That's all it is. It's just my way of thinking positively, even if it sounds dark. Even if it doesn't make sense." 

She still seems uneasy, so you reach for her and guide her to lay her head on your chest. "I have no plans to leave you, nor do I want to. I love you more than I can put into words. You will have me as long as I'm alive, and you'll have me long after that if I have anything to say about it. It's you and me, Abs. Always." 

Abby had gotten over it quickly, having not thought about it in the several weeks after. But she's thinking about it now. It's playing over and over again in her head, as her eyes flit from your face to the bite mark on your shoulder. It had happened so quickly. Regular patrol had the two of you venturing into a seemingly harmless abandoned building, and briefly separating. You had screamed, Abby had ran towards the noise and shot the infected on top of you. It all happened in the span of, maybe, 10 minutes. All it took was 10 minutes for her worst nightmare to come true. 

"No." She says. "You're fine. You're fine, and we're going to leave here and everything is going to be okay." 

It's irrational and desperate. She knows it. You know it. 

"Abby we're not going anywhere." You say. Your voice is calm and steady, because you're also thinking about that conversation. You realize you feel exactly the way you want to feel. You feel calm. You feel a sense of peace. You also feel a sense of overwhelming sadness, but you're not scared. 

"This can't be happening." 

"Say goodbye to me, Abby." 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She says. Her tone is angry, but you don't miss the way her eyes shine from unshed tears. "You're just gonna give up? You're telling me this is it?" 

"I love you. I'm asking you to make this easy on the both of us." 

She lets out a sharp exhale of breath and presses her hands to her knees in an attempt to calm herself down. You know you have to initiate the goodbye, so you tilt your head up towards the sky and let a few tears slip out. 

"Loving you has been a privilege." You say. "It's been the only thing that's kept me going, and I wouldn't trade that feeling for the world. Say goodbye and leave me. If it were you, you'd be telling me to do the same thing." 

She looks at you, takes a deep breath, then steps towards you. Her hand comes up to you cheek, and you feel how much she's shaking. She presses a kiss to the top of your hairline. "You will never know how much I love you. It's me and you." She says, echoing the words you had said to her in that previous conversation. "Always." 

She steps away from you, making her way out of the abandoned building with her fists clenched tight. 

Once she's out she leans against the building, and harsh breathing turns into hyperventilating. She can't leave you. She won't leave you. She'll stay until she knows you've done it, because she can't leave you alone while you do this. Even if you don't know that she's just outside. 

She's not sure how long it is before she hears it. The gunshot. Her ears ring. Her body goes numb. Bile rises in her throat. She can't move. 

She stays there until morning turns to afternoon, until afternoon turns to night, then until a few of the others come find her. 

She can't speak, the only thing she can think about is you. How much she loved you. How much she misses you. How you took a piece of her with you, and how she'll never get it back.

[collapsedglasshouses]

AN ANGEL FOR NOAH || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 11]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules [she/her]

MASTERPOST

SUMMARY: Actions are followed by consequences... Noah and Jules will learn that the hard way.

WARNINGS: angst, mentions of death and mental health issues, swearing, more angst, have i mentioned angst?, angst

A/N: Oh my f-ing god, I can't do this anymore. In honor of the BMTH tour starting today, I thought updating this story was fitting. This is the second to last part of An Angel For Noah... I'm too cruel to my characters, what am I doing... I hope you like the new part. If so, consider reblogging it! Thank you! Also, this isn't fully proofread, i'm sorry :c (im not, my head was too full to notice any errors)

TAGLIST: @trvshdxddy @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @measuredingold @cncohshit @signs-of-ill-portent @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @ada-clarence @wild-child-7747 @thebadchic @thescarlettvvitch @cookiesupplier

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

When Jules awoke, the light burned in her eyes. She barely managed to keep them open. It was a severe contrast to the warmth of Noah’s embrace that she was able to feel for an entire night. It took her a couple of seconds to notice where she was. But when she did, the realization hit her like a brick wall. She knew what was about to come and immediately felt nauseous. She wanted to go back. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and find herself back in Noah’s arms.

As she sat there in the white nothingness, she felt like she was dying over and over again. This was the end. Jules felt a lot of different feelings. There was a heaviness in the air, and everything around her looked too clean and empty. She couldn't shake off the mix of emotions inside her.

She thought about the night she spent with Noah, and it made her feel sad and happy at the same time. Sad because she knew they weren't supposed to get close like that, and happy because those moments were special.

Thinking about what happened, she felt a bit sorry for breaking the rules. She wished she could go back and change things, but it was too late now.

Missing Noah hit her hard. She wanted to be close to him, share more laughs, and just be with him. Even the bad moments were now everything she craved as long as she could see him again. The memory of his touch stayed with her, and she wanted more of those stolen moments.

In the midst of all these emotions, there was a warmth inside her that was hard to explain. It was more than just doing her guardian job; it was a deep connection that went beyond the rules. Noah had become a big part of her story, sometimes even reminding her of her living self.

As she sat there, she knew their connection was special but also risky. It made her feel love for a human, guilt for breaking the rules, and a deep sadness for what might not happen.

While waiting for her punishment to arrive, she couldn't ignore the feeling Noah left in her. It was a mix of love, guilt, and loss—a strong and special connection that painted the white room with the colors of a love that went beyond what was supposed to happen.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and immediately knew who it was.

“Jules.” Keaton spoke softly “We need to talk.”

Jules sighed as Keaton walked around her and sat down in front of her. He was still calm, as usual, but his eyes, usually filled with gentle reassurance, held a weight that mirrored the weight on Jules' heart.

Jules nodded, her eyes brimming with uncertainty. She had a feeling what was about to happen.

Keaton’s presence, normally a very welcomed feeling for Jules, now felt bittersweet. It took him a second to find the right words. “I know this is hard.”

Jules just looked at him with a plain expression. She knew he wanted to comfort her, but she couldn’t quite believe he actually knew how hard this was.

“I hate to be the one to do this to you, but-…” Keaton began but Jules was quick to interrupt him: “But you’re still doing it, Keaton.”

Keaton blinked for a couple of seconds. She was testing his patience with that sentence. “You know, you can’t really blame me for the consequences you have to face now, sweetheart.”

She noticed his slightly angered undertone, but she was to numb to properly correct herself. She knew it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t face her own mistakes. She couldn’t face her own bad decisions.

“I didn’t think you would go this far, Jules.” Keaton than claimed, causing Jules to raise her eyebrows. “You knew what was going on?”

“Not really… But I had a feeling when we last saw each other.” He explained, his tone becoming calmer again. Jules just nodded, waiting for her punishment with pure anxiety creeping up her veins.

“I know you formed this deep connection with Noah, but I wouldn’t have guessed how deep it really got.” Keaton explained, while Jules swallowed hard. It had in fact got so deep, she craved him with every cell of her body, holding on to bit of life she felt when she was near him.

On the other hand, the weight of guilt settled on Jules’ shoulders. Everything was about to slip from her grip.

“Keaton…” She finally cried out and let her head fall into her hands. “I just can’t.”

“I know, Jules. But you have no other choice.” – “I… I can’t let him go, Keaton. I can’t pretend those feelings do not exist.”

Keaton sighed, his gaze softening, while he took Jules’ hands into his, revealing her red eyes. "I understand, Jules. Emotions are powerful, even for us. But we have a duty, a purpose. The connection you formed with Noah is extraordinary, but it has consequences. This cannot continue. As you may know, there are no guardian angels happily together with their persons."

“Did it ever happen?” – “Of course, it did. It happens all the time, but it always leads to the same things.”

Jules felt a lump forming in her throat. "What are the consequences?"

Keaton hesitated before explaining, “You have little to no options, but we can give you these… One, you cut all ties to Noah. You will never see him again, nor be his guardian angel.” Jules’ eyes widened as she listened to her former guardian angel.

“Or…” Keaton sighed, already having this gut feeling Jules would choose to make her existence a living hell, “You can continue to be his guardian angel… But with strict restrictions. You won’t be able to make yourself attach to the physical world ever again… You won’t be able to make yourself visible nor move anything. You can’t just jump in front of cars or whatever.”

“And?” Jules asked when she noticed Keaton hesitated to continue.

“Noah’s memories are going to be wiped in each case. He won’t be able to remember a single bit of what happened between you two. He won’t remember anything.”

Jules felt a surge of panic at the ultimatum. The prospect of losing Noah was unbearable, yet the alternative was equally painful.

"I can't lose him," she pleaded, her eyes pleading for an alternative.

Keaton's expression saddened, and he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I understand, Jules. I truly do. Take your time making your decision… You're allowed one last meeting with him. Make it count."

Gratitude and desperation filled Jules' eyes. "Thank you."

With that, Keaton stood up from his place and walked away, leaving Jules alone with her emotions. Jules couldn’t shake the heaviness in her heart. A profound sense of sadness and brokenness washing over her. The weight of the consequences for breaking the rules weighed heavily on her shoulders, casting a shadow over the warmth she had felt with Noah. Keaton's comforting words didn't fully erase the ache in her heart.

The realization that their connection had to end, or at least be severely restricted, left her feeling a deep sense of loss. The warmth and happiness she had experienced with Noah now seemed like distant memories, clouded by the unchangeable future.

Her heart ached with the knowledge that she couldn't be with him the way she wanted. The thought of not being able to see him, share moments, or guide him as freely was like a painful knot in her chest. The love that had blossomed within her felt like it was slipping away, leaving a void that echoed with the sadness of an inevitable goodbye.

Despite Keaton's comforting presence still lingering on her, Jules couldn't shake off the feeling of being broken. The once vibrant connection between her and Noah was now at risk of being severed, and the prospect of living with the consequences of their actions haunted her. She felt a deep sorrow, not just for herself but also for Noah, who would lose the memories of their time together.

In the white room, surrounded by the aftermath of their choices, Jules couldn't escape the overwhelming sadness that settled over her, like a storm cloud ready to unleash its tears. And then she made her decision…

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of Noah's room, eventually woke him up. With his eyes still closed, he reached to his left side but was met with emptiness.

His eyes immediately shot to his side where Jules had been laying the whole night. She was gone. He wasn’t surprised. He knew this was coming but he tricked himself into thinking it wouldn’t happen so soon.

For a moment, he laid there, grappling with the absence.

He couldn’t just let this go. He needed to see something to do so. So, when Noah stood up from his bed, he had a clear plan in mind.

The next couple of hours where filled with research. He hadn’t even had clear key words to search. All he knew was her first name and where it happened. Jules and New York City.

Noah was determined to find the answers he was looking for. He needed to know where her body was. He needed to see her grave to close this chapter.

He sifted through articles until he stumbled upon the one detailing the tragic incident that had taken her life. The life of his Jules. The weight on his chest intensified as he read about the accident, the pain evident in the words of the article.

Unable to contain the swirl of emotions, Noah ran a hand over his face. This became realer and realer with each passing second. She was dead, he was very much alive.

Suddenly, there was a knock on Noah’s door, causing him to flinch slightly. Quickly, he tried to close his tabs as he answered.

Nicholas entered his room and saw how Noah closed the last tab.

"Did I interrupt your private time or what is going on?" Nick joked while Noah noticed his own weird behavior.

"Uh… Believe me… It would be easier to explain if I said yes, so… Yes." He weakly smiled at his best friend.

Nick on the other hand just blinked. "I just wanted to ask if I should bring you a coffee."

Noah looked as his best friend for a second, trying to read him. He had known him for years. And right now he realized how much he had stressed him over the last couple of weeks. Nick had no idea what was going on, he was worried to his core about Noah. He knew Noah wasn’t doing well lately but he had never acted so sporadic as he did at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Nick." Noah exclaimed without answering his best friend's question.

Nick's eyebrows rose for a second, surprised at Noah’s statement. "For what?"

"For dragging you into something you weren’t supposed to be part of." Noah explained. Nick sighed and closed the door behind him, before sitting down on Noah's bed for a second.

“You know… The last couple of weeks kinda scared me, Noah.” Nick confessed to him with a worried expression.

Noah looked to the floor and started to think. Guilt began to creep up his veins. He knew, he could be difficult to handle but the last couple of weeks had been slightly too rough, even for him. He had been acting so out of character. All he wanted to do right now was telling Nick the truth, but he knew that it would make him sound even more insane than he already looked like. So, he said nothing…

Nick, in the meantime, tried to make Noah look at him. He knew something was going on in Noah’s head that he just didn’t want to tell and as much as Nick wanted to know what was going on, he didn’t try to ask.

“Can I do anything to help you?” Nick still asked his best friend, who seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

Noah swallowed hard. He had something he dearly wanted to do, but he wasn’t sure if he should ask is friend for such a weird request. It took him a minute to sort his thoughts. He knew, he needed to get closure as soon as possible, but was worried Nick would snap if he continued to be this way.

“I actually have a request.” Noah quietly breathed out, causing Nick to lean forward.

“I wanna go to New York City.” Noah than said. Nick blinked for a couple of seconds.

“Are you serious?” Nick asked, his eyes slightly widened, not knowing how to process Noah’s request.

“Dead serious.” – “You know, its like… On the other side of the country and we’ve just played their like… a month ago.”

Noah nodded.

For a second, Nick just looked at Noah. He didn’t even know what to expect anymore. Feeling the urge to rise from his seat and leave, he wanted to distance himself from the situation. However, a subtle tone in Noah's request managed to get through, planting a seed of responsibility within Nick. He knew he had to reconsider and acknowledge the significance that this matter held for Noah.

“Okay.” Nick exclaimed.

“Okay?” – “Yeah… Let’s look for the flights… Just the two of us.”

There was a subtle hope in Nick's heart that Noah's sudden desire to do something meant a positive change. He decided in that moment, if Noah wasn’t going to get better, he would take matters in his own hands. He needed to get Noah back.

For now, he just wanted to spend time with him, getting to know the situation that was going on better, even without Noah telling him.

They didn’t know exactly how they managed to do it but about ten hours later the two found themselves in the middle of New York City. It had been stressful and they had had little to no time to pack things, but right now they stood in their hotel room, both with a filled backpack and no clear plan in mind where to go.

At least, Nick didn’t know where to go.

“And now?” The bassist asked his best friend, who looked from left to right to find a good way to start their journey. It was already getting dark.

“Maybe… We can search for a restaurant after getting settled into our hotel room?” Noah requested, sounding as aimless as his best friend.

The small New York City restaurant they found themselves in, about an hour later, gave off a cozy ambiance. The lights were slightly dimmed, there were a lot of plants and a rustical brick wall with a lot of band pictures on it. The ambience was rounded off by the soft sound of 80s rock music. Noah and Nick sat across from each other at a corner table, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow on the wooden surface.

For at least fifteen minutes, both of the boys just straight up stared at the menu. Noah was sure if another five minutes would pass without a dialogue, he would be able to memorize the dishes fully. They would be able to hire him at this point.

So, Noah decided to change that.

“You remember the last time we ate here?” He asked his best friend, whose eyebrows rose at his question. Nick wasn’t sure why Noah began to small talk with him. He knew Noah hated small talk more than anything.

“Sure… It’s been a year or two.” Nick quietly answered, before putting down the menu card. Noah followed his example and swallowed hard. The boys stared at each other for a second, before they silently agreed to just forget about the weird situation for a second. They both needed an evening of normality before the chaos would start again.

So, as they chose from the menu, they started sharing light banter about their favorite foods and recalling memories from past visits to New York. There was a fleeting sense that everything was returning to normal—the friendship, the shared laughter, the simple joy of enjoying a meal together.

Soon, the waiter approached, and they placed their orders. A basket of warm, crusty bread was set before them, accompanied by a trio of flavored butters. The clinking of porcelain and glasses blended seamlessly with the music in the background.

But the later it got, the less Nick could ignore the fact that they were in a city, on the other side of the country, for no apparent reason. In the midst of this apparent normalcy, Nick looked across the table at Noah, concern etched in his features. He could sense that something weighed heavily on his friend's mind. The subtle shift in the air hinted at the unspoken tension.

"So, Noah," Nick began, his tone gentle yet firm, "what's really going on with you lately?"

Noah's eyes momentarily flickered, caught off guard by the directness of his best friend’s question. He hesitated, his fork pausing mid-air above the salad. The comfortable illusion of normalcy shattered, revealing the underlying tension of unresolved emotions.

The restaurant seemed to hush for a moment, as if holding its breath, awaiting Noah's response. The ambient noise dimmed, leaving only the distant hum of the city beyond the window. Noah almost started to panic. He just couldn’t tell Nick. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t.

Nick's gaze remained steady, filled with genuine concern and a readiness to listen. The question lingered, inviting Noah to share the burden he carried.

“Nick… I can’t.” He breathed out, noticing how he wasn’t hungry anymore. For the last two hours he had just let go of his concerns, but now he was thrown right back into the chaos that was his life at the moment.

Nick held his gaze, hoping he would change his mind, but when he realized Noah was more silent than ever, he began to nod. “Okay.”

“It’s not like I don’t want to tell you… But so many things happened over the last weeks. I got to know so much about me. I need to get through this alone, Nick.”

“I hope you know, I’m here for you. Always, Noah.” – “Always.”

The next morning, Noah woke up at 6:17 am. He just couldn’t sleep anymore. Rolling from one side to the other. His thoughts were racing. He needed to get this done. He couldn’t wait any longer. So, not even an hour later, Noah quietly stood up, went to the bathroom and changed into his jeans and a simple black sweater, trying not to wake Nick. He didn’t need him to know where he was going.

But his plan failed, when he came out of the bathroom again.

“Where are you going?” Nick asked Noah, his eyes still laced with sleep.

Noah’s heart began to race. He didn’t really know what to say to his best friend, so he simply tried a random excuse. “I wanna go for a walk.”

Nick's eyebrow twitched upwards. He didn't believe him. “Where are you really going?”

Noah sighed. He didn’t answer, just staring at the floor.

“I’ll come with you.” – “No!”

Nick flinched at Noah’s tone. It got more and more confusing with each passing second. Noah looked broken, only a shell of what he used to be. Nick knew something was destroying him internally, so he wouldn't let go of this.

“I’ll can wait in the distance, but I’m not letting you go alone, Noah.” Nick answered his best friend, while slipping out of the bed to get dressed. Noah pressed his fingernails into his hands with such a force, he was scared he would bleed. He was starting to panic. He didn’t want Nick to worry anymore but in fact everything he was saying, caused Nick to be concerned even more.

“Why won’t you just let me go alone?” Noah asked carefully, a slight stutter in his voice. He sounded nothing like himself anymore. All he could think about was his mission to convince his mind that he couldn’t have Jules.

Nick stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Noah. It took him everything to not shout at Noah. He was getting frustrated. Noah had never acted like this. He knew he got worse. Noah had told him what made him go back into therapy, even though he left out the detail about Jules.

“I’m scared you will hurt yourself.” Nick almost whispered and blinked away the tears that started to form in his eyes.

Noah finally looked at his best friend with guilt. He wished he could tell Nick, but he knew he wouldn’t have believed him. So, he stayed quiet.

“Okay.” Noah whispered out “You can go with me, but you have to wait.”

Nick nodded, not really sure what he was agreeing to. But soon they had packed their stuff and took off.

They took a cab to a more remote area. Nick had no idea where they were and couldn't remember ever having been in this area of New York. After exiting the car, Noah walked with determination while Nick just trotted behind him, confusion in his eyes.

Soon they reached an area surrounded by a wall. Nick quickly realized it was a graveyard. Even though he was even more confused, he kept quiet while Noah handed him his backpack with the request to wait for him at that exact spot. Nick nodded and gave Noah a last confused but reassuring look before his best friend took off.

The graveyard had an eerie calmness, with the rustling leaves and the distant sounds of traffic being the only disruptions to the silence. The air was heavy with a mix of sorrow and nostalgia. As Noah entered the quiet space, the atmosphere changed, and Noah could feel the weight of memories settling on his shoulders.

His steps echoed softly on the gravel path. The gravestones stood like silent monuments, bearing countless untold stories of the people buried there. Goosebumps formed on Noah's skin as he walked among the rows. Graveyards always made him uneasy; they were a stark reminder of the fragility of life.

As Noah ventured deeper into the graveyard, the air seemed to thicken with an invisible heaviness.

The gravestones varied in size and design, telling stories of different lives. Noah's gaze shifted, and then, in a clearing, he saw it – a fresh grave adorned with vibrant flowers. The colors contrasted sharply against the muted tones of the graveyard. It looked so new, and reality hit him like a wave.

Jules. It was her grave.

Noah felt a knot tighten in his chest. He had buried too many people in his short life, but this was different. This was someone he hadn’t known in her lifetime, but someone he had connected with in ways he couldn't explain. When he got closer, he saw her full name, her birthday and the day she died. There even was a photo of her, leaning against the gravestone. The realization that Jules had left this world not even a year ago hit him with a profound sadness. She had simply slipped from his fingers.

He stood there, silent, taking in the scene. The brightness of the flowers seemed to mock the sadness radiating of the grave. Noah's mind swirled with conflicting emotions, and he couldn't shake the heaviness that settled over him. This was a painful reminder that Jules, his mysterious guardian angel, was not just a figment of his imagination but a person who had lived, loved, and left way to soon.

A profound sense of loss settled over him. It wasn't just about the person he had known briefly; it was about the life that had ended, the dreams that had ceased to unfold. He felt an ache in his chest, a pain that echoed with the weight of missed opportunities and the cruel randomness of fate. In this exact moment he realized something really important. He didn’t want to die. There was so much to live for. There was still so much to do for him.

As his tears started streaming down his face, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Without turning he instantly recognized the soft touch on his shoulder.

“Jules.”

“Noah, we need to talk.”

LAST PART

[stormborngod]

hii !!! I have read your two aelin fanfics and I have to say that they are the best in the world, I was wondering if you could write something nsfw about aelin x reader (?) no hurry 💗

Authors Note: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I legitimately forgot about it because life things got in the way and im so so so sorry!!

Writing this made me realize that I kinda abandoned this account lmao.

Heres Aelin smut (i tried my best I home it’s not terrible) and feel free to send in more asks!

Burn Me Inside And Out (I Need The Burn)

Tags: fxf, female!reader, post-canon, confident!reader, teasing, semi-public??? She fingers you in a hallway dude idk, fingering, Aelin being downbad for reader, reader teases Aelin during a party and reaps the benefits

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t brag often.

Mostly because your wife bragged enough about you, and because you didn’t feel the need to. You knew that you were quite the catch and you didn’t feel the need to flaunt what was already obvious.

But, Hellas, you looked good.

You knew it from the stares you could feel piercing you, from the moment you walked in the room till you stood against the wall, your back pressed against cool wood. Your bare back.

The black dress you were wearing was backless, proudly showing off the golden backdrop necklace that rested in between your shoulder blades and trailed down to your lower back. You hide a smug smile as you take another sip of your wine. You had already counted at least three guests at this party that had nearly choked on their wine when they saw the necklace, their eyes roving over you.

While their gazes were amusing, if not a bit of a ego boost, it wasn’t them you wanted to impress.

It was your wife’s.

Aelin.

You felt her gaze on you the moment you stepped into the party, piercing you like a blade from across the room.

You had watched as she ended her conversation as quickly as she could without enacting a national incident, making her way through the crowd towards you. Her fiery blond hair was bright against the crowd, making her a lighthouse in the endless ocean of the people spreading the two of you.

You had felt a bit bad when you moved away just as she was close enough that you could make out her dark dress, it’s gold lining complimenting the golden shards that danced in her turquoise eyes.

You would have been perfectly fine to allow her to touch you, her arm wrapping around your waist as she pulled you closer to her. She would have run her hand over your bare back, her fingers idly playing with the necklace draped down your back as the two of you made your rounds around the room, charming anyone around you.

You certainly didn’t mind the idea, you loved it if you were being honest, but you liked the idea of teasing her more.

You have been ignoring her the entire night, moving out of reach before she could reach for you or leading her into guests that were dying to talk to their queen. You watched her from your position against the wall, smirking when she caught your eyes over the shoulder of whatever lord she was talking with.

She look thoroughly uninterested in whatever he was saying, her eyes only for you. Her eyes narrowed as she took in your smug expression, momentarily turning back to the lord to excuse herself as she began to make her way towards you.

You rolled your shoulders as you reached out towards one of the servants next to you, replacing your now empty drink with a full one as you began to make your way back into the crowd. You looked over your shoulder, biting your lip to hold in your laugh as you made yourself further into the crowd, blending into the people around you almost seamlessly.

Almost.

Honestly, sometimes you forgot your wife used to be an assassin.

An arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a warm body behind you. You went willingly, almost purring as a hand ran up your throat to tilt your head until red lips pressed against yours. Gods, with how good Aelin felt pressed against you, kissing you, you were beginning to question why you were teasing her in the first place.

The answer came a moment later when Aelin turned you to face her, her eyes blazing with desire and need. She bent her head, her lips brushing over your pulse.

“You're trying to kill me.” She says, her breath warm against the skin of your neck. You hum and trail your fingertips over her sides, “Maybe.” You tease, tightening your grip as you pulled her closer to you.

She can't hold back a chuckle at your pleased tone, pressing a kiss against your neck before she pulls away to face you. You know there's no point in hiding the blush rising to your cheeks. You can feel her red lipstick lingering on your skin and you don't doubt that she's left a bright red mark on you for all to see.

Her eyes glance over you, her hunger for you growing as she takes in the way your dress hugs your body. One of her hands trails down your side until she reaches your thigh, rubbing her thumb over the fabric there.

You wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her closer to you so you can press your lips together. Gods, she's not even fully touching you and you can already feel the heat rising from between your thighs, making you agonizingly focused on her touch.

The two of you part, breathless.

“I think we’re going to have to miss this dance, love.” Aelin asks, her voice light despite the hunger in her eyes. You chuckle, moving towards her neck to press your lips against her throat, leaving your own lipstick mark on your skin.

“Really? May I ask why, dearest?” You tease before gasping as she began to read you out of the room. She dodges between people before she's able to pull you into one of the large halls leading into the party.

She presses you against a wall, kissing you fiercely as she grips your hips. Her nails dig into your skin, even through the fabric of your dress. Her grip stings, setting your blood aflame as you buck your hips against her.

“Gods,” Aelin groans, “how attached are you to this dress?” You furrow your brows, pulling away to glare at her.

“Don’t even think about it.” You warn, still gasping for air. She huffs, bending her head to nip your throat. She chuckles when you arch your neck, exposing more of yourself to her. Her fangs trace over your pulse and you bunch the fabric of her dress in your hands as you groan.

One of her hands moves from your hips to rub over your thigh, pulling your dress up until it haphazardly bunches over your hips. Her other hand moves to brush over your underwear, lacy fabric covering her prize.

You chuckle breathlessly at her growl of frustration before gasping as she tugs your panties to the side, her fingers immediately finding your wet heat. She groans as your wetness coats her fingers. She glides her fingers over your clit, rubbing firmly against it. You bit your lip to hold in your moans, bucking your hips against her hand.

She purrs at your desperation, head ducking down to nip and kiss at your throat, “That’s it, sweetheart.” Her husky voice seems to echo in your ears as your hips pick up their pace. Aelin allows you to grind to your hearts content, waiting until your gasping out as your almost reach your peak. She drags her fingers away suddenly, laughing at your growl as you try to pull her hand back to you.

“Patience sweetheart. I’ll give you what you need.” Aelin coos, voice mocking and sickly sweet as she traced her fingers over you. She rubs over your clit firmly one more time before she moves lower, entering you. Your gasp as she pushes one, two fingers inside you.

Aelin doesn’t bother going slow, her fingers driving into your fiercely as you gasp and moan. You can barely bring yourself to care about your voice echoing back to the party, hips bucking. You can only focus on Aelin, on her fingers inside you and her lips at your neck.

She snarls at your moans, almost as desperate as you as she begins to hammer into you. Her voice is strained as she speaks, hunger clouding her eyes, “Come on sweetheart, give it to me. Soak my hand and let everyone know how good I make you feel.”

And you do, gods you do. Your body shakes as your cum, your wet heat tightening around Aelin’s fingers. Aelin curses, her fingers still thrusting into you. She eventually slows her pace as your breathing and shaking slows, pulling her fingers from you with a wet noise that leaves you flushed.

She holds your gaze as she rubs her tongue over her fingers, cleaning your wetness from them. You bite you lip, fighting against your suddenly desperate to pull her back to you despite your recent orgasm.

She smirks, pulling her fingers from her mouth as her free hand begins to smooth out your dress. At your confused look she chuckled, gold-flecked eyes sparking in amusement.

“We don’t want you to walk back into the party looking freshly fucked, do we? Imagine the scandal.” She laughs when your hand pushed at her shoulder, ignoring your glare as she offers you a hand.

“Shall we?”

[vivaladicamillo]

RYAN DUNN WITH A GOTH AND METALHEAD GN READER

heyy yalll im backkk, took a little break for a bit but IM BACK BABYYYY, ive been getting into goth culture a lot as of recent and have been changing my style to fit around it more so this is js a silly little thing to fuel my brain ☺️☺️ enjoyyy

WARNINGS: none

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GOTH

ok so really i think ryan would LOVEE a goth s/o

but it depends on the era of him

if we r talking BEGINNING of cky days i feel like he would be into it but NEVERRR let yk abt it

if we r taking 1999 ryan oh my god hed fall in love with u then and there

we all know back then he had a little thing for more hardcore women (COUGH COUGH YALL EVER SEEN GLOREN BRO, the leather jacket RYAN WE KNOW WHO U RR)

i feel like he would be curious about it

just with how intricate the style is

i feel like hed be into all the styles of goth ngl, hes js so curious on how it all works

the closet thing hes really seen of goth is bam fanboying over ville

soo not much to compare it too

i feel like he would ask so many questions

just like “where do u find clothes like that??” “how long does it take u to get ready?” js air headed questions

if u started dating him tho oh my god hes a sweetheart

anything halloween related that looks edgy in the slightest he will buy and say it reminded him of u

will help tie up corsets, clip on necklaces, and always have a spare pair of flat shoes on him just incase ur heels start to kill ur feet

obsessed with the make up, he thinks its so cool (and so hot)

oh bam is lowkey so jealous

especially if u are a fan of ville

ryan would try and color match his shirts to ur outfits

u wearing red? his shirt is gonna be red

purple? he has a purple button up somewhere

hes js so in love w u he doesnt care

will be the type of guy to run to the store last minute to get accessories for an outfit for u

also will buy u those overly expensive edgy ass heels from the store bc he know u will rock them

probably has tried on some of ur platformed shoes or heels and busted his ass

bam would probably be there dying laughing bc of it

or he would casually put on a hair piece or some necklaces and imitate you (he swears it out of love)

honestly would let u give him a gothic makeover, js dont show bam

he doesnt reallyy get whats going on but he loves it anyways bc he loves u

METALHEAD

oh he thinks ur so cool

depending on what metal genre u prefer he would listen to so many songs from it

i feel like he’d be a little intimidated at first bc mf thinks HIM and CKY is hardcore

he will buy patches for ur battle vest

love hearing u go on about the bands

WILL GO TO CONCERTS WITH U

warning tho hes gonna try and fucking stage dive into the mosh pit

hes gonna get his ass KICKED

loves ur accessories

the gauntlet cuffs, the bullet belts he thinks its so edgy and cool

hes a little scared of the corpse paint tho

hes seen bam do it but never fully going out with it

when he walks into the room and see u just with two massive black holes for eyes a white face and a frown drawn on it kinda scares him for a second

but he thinks its so cool after he realized

wants u to do it on him

literally if u do he will js be staring in the mirror of a good 20 lins is awe

will go to bar shows with u

cant fight for shit tho so if someone starts shit goodluck LMAOOO

lowkey would grow his hair out bc one of ur fav bands fav members has long hair

hes wayy more into this probably then the gothic vibe but tbh ryans such a sweetheart if he liked u, HE LOVEDDD u

—————————————-

hey yall so hope u enjoyed, ive been really into both these scenes recently and broo the goth metal style is my favvv, its hella cool. i need to start writing on here again lmk if i should do other cky/jackass members with different styles and genre loving readers!! byeeee :))