#happy early hanukkah and christmas

[eggst]

i know this is a camp camp blog but please i cant keep suppressing all my other hardcore interests psease

[chernobog13]

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

[asjjohnson]

Ta-da—I've finished the first part of this holiday Danny Phantom ghost story. Which I'd thought of the idea for last year just after Christmas.

---

Phantom stepped into his lair and the glowing green portal vanished behind him.

It had been a good day—tiring, but good. For him, that was.

With a practiced ease, he turned and flopped onto a large melted stump of a stalagmite, as though flopping onto a couch, and put his arms comfortably behind his head.

Valerie may have erected that shield of hers, but he had other methods of getting his fun.

Today he'd blasted an impassable trench all along the circumference of Amity Park. A canyon surrounded by jagged metal.

No one would be able to enter or leave.

It might've been too late to stop Amity Park from having their food and gifts, but their celebrations would be tainted by foreboding. The knowledge of his blockade, of their days of plenty soon transitioning into dwindling supplies and starvation.

A different type of ruin and destruction.

A grin stretched across his face as he imagined it.

But the thought was cut short. An uncomfortable tickle of vapor brushed through his nose and triggered a gasp.

He tensed, and pushed himself up on one elbow, eyes narrowing as he scanned his shadowed surroundings.

His lair was a large cavern, dimly lit by a sourceless glow. The floors were littered with chunks of broken cave formations that he’d left lying after having blasted them apart.

Nothing looked out of place. He saw no movement, and heard only a slow drip of water from the cave ceiling.

No one could enter his lair. He knew this. There were no entrances or exits other than through his own portals.

It must not have been his Ghost Sense after all, but instead a thread of cold air passing by to tickle his nose, or else indigestion.

He shouldn’t have eaten that blob ghost earlier.

He rubbed his nose in annoyance and laid back down.

But he still felt uneasy. A feeling of paranoia, of an imagined something watching.

Simply the idea of someone else being in his personal lair bothered him. It was a place formed from his inner essence. Even he didn’t understand what a cave could mean to him. But, whatever it did mean, it was something deeply personal that he didn’t want to share. A look into his core.

It was a long several minutes before the subject faded from his mind. He began to doze, insubstantial wisps of pleasant dreams pulling him toward sleep and energy recovery. His own laughter. Valerie's face. Jagged metal.

His ear twitched and he started awake before the dreams fully took hold.

There was a noise—very faint, but unnatural to his lair.

It echoed along his walls and ceilings, making it hard to pinpoint the direction.

He stood. And waited. Ectoplasm pumped through his limbs, preparing for a possible confrontation.

The noise grew steadily louder. It was now possible to make out two distinct sounds: the high clinging of chains, and a grating noise of something scrapping against rock.

Then—it was to his left. He spun around.

There, nearly invisible, with glimmering chains draped over his shoulders, was the ghostly form of Vlad Plasmius.

His chest constricted with the shock. "You're gone!" He pushed off of the floor and away from the figure, firing a Ghost Ray straight through its middle. The ray slammed into the far wall. Not even a chain link shifted. An intangiblility that somehow felt unnatural, even for a ghost. He fired again. "You no longer exist!" Another Ghost Ray. "You're a hallucination! You aren't real!"

The figure remained unmoving, hovering with his hands clasped behind his back—visible through his translucent torso. He raised one eyebrow. "Are you quite done, Daniel?"

"What are you?!" Phantom shouted.

"You already know."

It didn't make sense. Plasmius couldn't exist, Phantom had destroyed him a long time ago, the ghost had been completely absorbed.

This figure couldn't be real. It had to be his mind playing tricks on him, or a dream, or a ghost who had followed him through his portal—maybe Amorpho.

But the fear coursing through him said otherwise—said this was the spirit of Plasmius back from oblivion, somehow pulled from his own core. A face he had been certain he would never see again. It couldn't be true. Instinctively, the repercussions of such a thing terrified him. Absolutely and completely.

"You couldn't have at least decorated the place?" the figure asked. "Perhaps some Packers memorabilia? A few pennant banners along the ceiling goes a long way."

Phantom sneered, pushing the fear to the side. "You have no say concerning my lair."

The figure somehow seemed amused by the words.

Phantom glanced at the long chains trailing down to and across the floor. "As though your taste in decoration is any better. What did you do, decide to carry the ruins of your mansion with you?" Broken pieces of gray brick and assorted other objects hung from the chain links like a giant charm bracelet.

The figure looked down at himself. He unclasped his hands and lifted his arms to either side, chains and objects clanking noisily and grinding across the cave floor with the movement.

The figure remained with his arms stretched wide, gazing at Phantom, as though inviting Phantom to examine the chains he wore.

The objects on the chains continued to sway. Broken pieces of gray brick. Books—one with a stylized ghost on the cover, and one with the year 1981 printed across it, but also other books. Cracked picture frames and photos. Quarters—a lot of dangling quarters. Test tubes stained with dried ectoplasm. Small bones, as though from animals. Broken machinery—computer monitors, an incomplete ring of metal that resembled a small Fenton Portal. A red fabric mask. A shredded white t-shirt. A pair of metal gauntlets. And so much more.

"These are the failings I'd gathered in life," Plasmius said. "I carry these burdens with me. My guilt."

Phantom snorted in disbelief. "How is the money a failing?" The coins still looked perfectly usable. He continued to idly run his eyes across the chains. There were also papers and folders—business contracts and deeds. And his eye caught the gleam of a small, familiar ring.

Plasmius's face twisted in hate, his eyes glowing a brighter red.

Phantom unconsciously drifted backward, the fear again coming to the forefront.

Plasmius loudly rattled the chains and screamed, "I wish I had never deceitfully gained one cent! I was a fool! I had traded away everything that mattered!"

The horrible sound of the rattling chains gradually died down and Phantom uncovered his ears, not remembering having covered them.

Plasmius still wore a glare, but he now talked at a normal volume. "You have done much more than I have. Your chains are ten times this long, not counting the ones you have inherited."

For a moment, Phantom imagined he could feel the invisible weight. Imaginary heaviness across his shoulders, and pushing him down toward the floor. Chains from Vlad Masters, Danny Fenton, and from the years of his current existence.

All of the steel beams and other debris surrounding Amity Park, trailing behind him like a king's long coronation robe.

Phantom crossed his arms. "That's ridiculous."

"You say that, but you worry for your fate. Your soul is uneasy. A child realizing there are consequences to his actions, fearing his Father's punishment—"

"I am not a child!" Phantom shouted.

"You will be visited by three spirits—"

"No! You aren't real! None of this is real!"

"Daniel!"

The name was said so firmly, so whiplike, the equivalent of a grounding slap, that Phantom snapped his mouth shut.

"You will be visited by three spirits tonight," Plasmius said. "Your participation is not optional. You will listen to them, go anywhere they want you to go, and observe whatever they want you to observe."

"Do you count as one of the three?" Phantom grumbled.

"You know how the story goes. Three visitors in addition to myself."

"So I'm basically in one of those Scrooge movies."

Plasmius slowly grew more transparent. "You know that isn't the title of the story." His voice grew quieter, fading.

"How would you know whether I do or not," Phantom said to himself. He could never remember the official title.

Plasmius was gone.

Phantom hovered alone in the empty cave chamber.

He whispered, "Bah. Humbug."

[moxie-girl]

happy holidays everyone

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello ❤️

Can you please write something about Jason x Danny? Maybe something about Jason having a crush on this new guy (maybe Danny works in a library or helping people as a nurse) and just falling cause Danny is sincerely nice and isn't afraid of his Lazarus's rage

Jason first notices the new face volunteering at the soup kitchen when the guy hand-makes flour tortillas for the beans. Just like his mom used to make, alongside Mrs. Huerea before she got into drugs.

It's been years since he last had some, not because Alfred refuses to make it but because the butler never has the time.

It's usually a treat for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, or his birthday. Sometimes if Jason is lucky, there is another important holiday for the many members of Wayne Manor, and there is time for Alfred to get them done. He can have them more.

But mostly, Alfred had them store-bought.

That's why he wanders to the other man's line, mouth already watering as the volunteer piles smashed beans with cheese and tortillas onto plates. A name tag has a simple "Danny" on top of a white NASA shirt coupled with slightly baggy pants is the whole outfit of the stranger - odd in Gotham's winter time.

He offers Jason a smile, then, with a wink, places two more fresh tortillas on his plate.

Before he can say anything, Danny pushes the plate toward him. "I can tell you're a man who appreciates fine food. Take them. I can always make more. "

He jerks a thumb to the back, where a press awaits use. It looks just like Mrs. Huerea's iron-clad tool that, for a second, he's six again, early happy the women preparing for Christmas.

When his mother was sober, the Huereas had always opened their home to them. The elderly couple had always felt like grandparents to him.

"Thanks," He says around a forming grin. It matches Danny's.

Jason accepts the food with an excited thrill; for once, the memories of his mother are not so bitter and ruined. He moves out of the way for the next person, making a mental note to tell his men to ensure Danny gets home safely after his shift. It would be in his employee's way.

He does this often, assigning some Red Hood boys to make sure no one bothers any of the volunteers. Jason knows he can't get rid of all crime, not like Bruce believes, but he can at least protect those trying to make this place less of a shit hole.

He sits, savoring the flavor with great appreciation. He's got time to relax a little.

One of his Lieutenant is in the back, speaking to the director of the Soup Kitchen. This is one of Jason's protected areas, but to make sure people know it's not to be taken lightly, the Red Hood gang does require protection money.

He doesn't ask a lot but Jason knows that any place that doesn't have protection money is a bigger target. Of course he also here pretending to be hungry just to make sure the place is actually doing what they promised to do and feed people.

When Jason first took over, this particular place had been known to only give out half of the money they donated in food. The rest was going into the old director's pocket. When he caught wind of the senior director often refusing kids just to save money to steal, Jason quickly fed him to the fish.

His Lieutenant, Rogers, would not be able to recognize him. Jason was eating without a mask. What better disguise than his own dead face? Much less the other people in the soup kitchen.

Although he was meant to observe his surroundings for any funny business, Jason glued his eyes on Danny the entire time. It seemed the man had an easy smile for everyone and a calming personality that seemed to put even the most hostile at ease.

Snow. Jason thinks while watching Danny make more tortillas while chatting with a street kid until the young girl feels she could make one. He lets her round the table easily, showing her how to press down on the metal lever with the same soft ease. He's like pure white snow.

He would not last long in Crime Alley. Nothing pure ever does.

Jason fishes his food, unable to look away from what he knows would be a broken man in only a few weeks.

He leaves just as Rogers returns to the front clutching a brown bag. It looks like he didn't need to worry about the upkeeping of this place. He needs to check on the other kitchens in his territory before the day is out.

After three other Kitchens, Jason is satisfied that he's secured two. He must send Rogers to the last one because a few girls seemed uncomfortable with the leering crew. He'll have the creeps removed by this Friday.

He's swinging around as Red Hood on his normal patrol when he catches sight of Danny again. It's close to two in the morning, so he's surprised to see the other man cheerfully strolling about without any signs of exhaust.

He's also not wearing warm clothing despite the snow slowly falling around them. The only difference between what he was wearing earlier is the large black backpack. Jason half wonders if Danny only has nothing else to wear until the man pauses at an alley entry.

He crouches down, unzipping his bag, before pulling out a plastic-wrapped package. Jason watches him cautiously walk into the alley, following on the roofs out of curiosity.

His eyes widen when he spots a young boy hiding behind a trash bin, squishing himself against the wall as Danny carefully approaches him.

Jason hadn't seen the kid when he had passed by earlier, likely due to the boy knowing how to hide himself in the shadows. How had Danny seen him?

"Go away!" The boy yells when Danny gets too close for comfort. Jason's hackles rise, pulling out his gun in case he needs to intervene. He remembers the days when the sound of approaching footsteps to his hiding places in the streets meant.

Danny stops just on the other side of the trash bin. He places the package on top of it and backs away quickly. "I don't mean to bother you. But I thought you could use these. Stay warm, and if you need to escape the snowstorm, go to the address in the right pocket."

The boy doesn't answer, and Danny doesn't seem to wait for one. He leaves with quick strides. Jason watches him from the roof, noticing he returns to a slow stroll once he's back on the main street.

Below, the street kid carefully pulls the plastic bag towards him once he knows Danny is gone. He unwraps the bag only to gasp in delight at the jacket, gloves, hat, scarf, and socks inside. He quickly slips them on, burying himself in the small amounts of warmth they offer him.

Jason watches the boy for a few minutes before jumping down. The kid scrambles away until he realizes it's Rood Hood. Everyone knows that he won't harm street kids.

"Hey," He says, noting that the boy's new clothes seem to be made from expensive material, all in black and neon green. "Do you have somewhere warm to sleep tonight? Snowstorm is coming."

"I can handle it." The boy scoffs despite the shivers that wrack his body.

"I know you can. But it's not safe out here" He kneels at the boy's eye level. He seems about twelve, likely new to the streets since he has yet to find proper shelter. Dirty blond hair and dark, weary brown eyes stare back at him as Jason offers. "Let me get you somewhere safe."

"I won't go back to the stupid system."

"Nah, that shit's broken. I got a safe house for you to crash in."

The boy thinks it over. "Just us?"

Jason isn't a mind reader to know what the kid fears. "No. It's full of other people."

It takes a few more minutes, but eventually, he convinces Max to follow him. They travel across Crime Alley to one of the empty warehouses he had turned into an illegal shelter. Inside are various Red Hood gangsters passing out blankets and setting up cots for people from the streets to sleep.

The heaters are on, but a few still refuse to remove their warm clothing- likely in fear of theft or that it proves an extra layer of comfort- as they settle down.

Max thanks him as the boy rushes to a corner that seems to be taken over by children. He doesn't approach the others to speak to, but he looks more comfortable picking a cot close to them. Jason's eyes widen slightly when he realizes that all seven children are wearing some form of the Black and Neon Green outfits Danny had given Max.

Rogers strolls up next to him, nodding his chin at the children. "Some street kids have been saying a man is offering them free supplies. He doesn't ask for anything in return and leaves them alone with they tell him to. His calling card is the little neon green ghost he places on each item. Want me to take a few of our boys and check him out?"

Jason grunts. "No need. I already know who it is. He seems like a non-threat."

Rogers appears flabbergasted for only a few seconds before pulling himself together. "If you say so, boss."

Jason turns to stare at the man, and Rogers raises his hands. "All I'm saying is that it's a little odd how good the guy is at spotting street kids."

"How good is he?"

"It's like he can see in the dark. He might be a meta."

Jason thinks back to Danny walking around in his light clothes like it's the middle of summer instead of winter and finds some weight in the meta-theory. "I'll pay him a visit soon."

Rogers lets the matter drop, even if he is confused by Jason's involvement. Usually, he has some of the newest members of the youngest ones who reckon a personable target- or new recruits.

But something about Danny called out to Jason. He couldn't say it, but the man's snow-like personality eased the Pit Rage in him. Strangely it felt like Danny was the calm winter promising rest to the wounded parts of Jason's soul.

He didn't want to see Danny's pure heart ruined by this city.

Jason wonders if he could keep it safe and if Danny will even give him the chance to try.

He hopes so. Danny has such a lovely smile.

[maximoffhimbo]

Happy Hanukkah, Tiny

Summary: Wanda’s first time celebrating Hanukkah without Pietro. gn!masc!reader

Warnings: very sad emo Wanda

Slightly late to post - whoops !

-

It was a time of year for families, big or small, close or distant. This was the time of year to celebrate the people around you. Unless of course you were Wanda Maximoff.

Her life up until this point had been purely about survival and now, well, it was consumed by loneliness. Thankfully there was one other avenger that happened to be alone this holiday season, you. You were taken by hydra hours after you were born. You didn’t know where, who or what you came from. All you knew was that hydra picked you. The holidays approached quickly and whilst Wanda was dreading it, you were falling into your yearly traditions. Thanks to the avengers you were liberated from hydra when you were 17, now, being the same age as Wanda meant that you’d had enough time to create your own little rules, traditions and customs.

With Hanukkah and Christmas quickly approaching you set out to make this year even better than the last. Forgetting about a single little witch. With all the excitement you’d forgotten the newest member on the team, Wanda. Carrying a small Christmas tree and lights down the corridor you heard gentle, muffled sobs. The closer you got to your room the closer the sobs became. You racked your brain quickly, until you realised the noises were coming from the room opposite yours: Wanda’s. Placing the tree and decorations down you slowly moved towards her door, raising your fist to knock before you paused. You didn’t know what to say, what could you say? You’d never had a real family. You’d never know the loss, how on earth could you sympathise with a grieving woman? Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the door creaking open and the small fragile girl holding an empty glass. Her eyes were puffy, as were her lips. She’d adopted an oversized hoodie and pyjama bottoms that were way too big for her. She looked up, seeing you there with your fist raised; she paused, looking towards her glass and nodding. Water, right. She needed some water.

“I just need some water.” She whispered, tears threatening to fall again. Her head bowed like a wounded animal, like the weight of every galaxy was on her back. “I can get it for you if you like.” Your voice was hushed yet still cheery, hoping that your voice would provide any comfort, you continued. “I could make you some hot chocolate if you like.” Wanda sniffled, using the ridiculously long hoodie sleeve to wipe her nose. “Come on.” You began to walk gently to the kitchen, allowing Wanda to follow behind you like a small shadow.

Luckily for both of you, most of the avengers had already gone home for the holidays meaning you had the entire tower to yourself. It was early, definitely, but it always soothed you knowing you could spend Christmas the way you wanted. Sadly, you couldn’t say the same for Wanda. The emptiness began to remove her very essence; her entire being consumed by the silence. “Jarvis, play my Christmas playlist, please? Oh, and make it quiet.” Wanda watched you. She watched the way you were seemingly trying to comfort her whilst giving her the necessary space. You weren’t babying her, you weren’t forcing her to think of her brother or parents, or even sokovia. You were just allowing her to feel your presence. A comfort Wanda was grateful for. “You know, I need to get some new lights for my tree. The ones I have are so bad.” You chuckled to yourself. “It’d be nice to have some company, maybe I can get some Hanukkah stuff, to make this place equally your home as it is mine.” Smiling you turned to Wanda, she looked at you for a moment before nodding gently, as you turned away from her to continue making the hot chocolate you heard a faint whisper: “I’d like that y/n.”

-

“Hey, Wanda? Which colour?” You held up two small panda ornaments, one black and one pink one. Throughout the day Wanda had slowly come out of her shell, she was speaking a little more yet you were still desperately trying to make her laugh, to see her smile. She chuckled lightly, “I’ve never seen a pink panda.” You stared intently at the ornaments before holding one up over the over, “pink one it is then.”

-

“That’ll be $17.99,” you handed the crumpled $20 note over, looking frantically over your shoulder; Wanda had gone to the bathroom and you were desperately trying to purchase a gift for her without her catching you. The young (clearly new) cashier began to slowly count quarters, seemingly restarting his counting every few seconds. “Actually, just keep the change,” you grabbed Wanda’s gift and frantically shoved it into your backpack. “Y/N? Ready to go?” Just in the nick of time you thought.

-

“I had a nice time today y/n, thank you.” You looked up from your matzoh ball soup, smiling dopily. “Well, I actually have something else for you, just a small Hanukkah present.” Wanda’s ears perked up, a present? For her? Her lips lifted into a small embarrassed smile, “r-really?” She asked, barely above a whisper. Smiling, you opened your bag and pulled out a small pink panda plush and placed it on the table. “It’s not much, I just thought, since you said you’d never seen a pink panda before-“ your rambling was interrupted by a small sniffle, looking up from where you were playing with your hands you saw Wanda hugging her new plush. “Are you okay?” You asked gently, not wanting to upset her further. “I’m fine, I just- I haven’t felt this cared for in a long time.” Her large green orbs looked at you innocently, almost childlike. “You deserve this feeling, Wands.” Wanda said nothing, instead she stood up and moved to sit beside you, praise whatever higher power allowed you to be sat in a booth, she climbed in next to you and leant her head on your shoulder, clutching her new panda close. “You make me feel safe y/n.” Her hushed voice sent a wave of butterflies to your stomach. The desire to protect and love Wanda almost unbearable. You smiled wrapping your arms around her small frame before kissing the top of her head: “Happy Hanukkah, tiny.”

[sugoi-and-spice]

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

Chapter Twenty-Four - At Last

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Slow Burn, Misogyny

Notes: Ho(s) Ho(s) Ho(s)! Happy Holidays my lovelies. Here is an early Christmas present (or late Hanukkah present) to get you through the holidays. Thank you all for always having so much patience for my slow updates and I look forward to finishing this fic with you all in the New Year!

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

Door-slamming was not particularly common in the Shigaraki household. It was a fact that would be surprising to many, considering how much anger and resentment was harbored just under the surface of this “perfect” luxury, penthouse apartment. Nonetheless, it was a rarity. Perhaps due to the very fact that they were under this roof, that any weakness that led to such an outburst was kept so under wraps. The head of the household was too poised and the young successor too self-destructive to ever show the hand of their emotions like that.

So, it went without saying that when Kurogiri heard the front door slam open, hours after Tomura Shigaraki was due home, it gave him enough concern to pause his dish washing.

“Tomura Shigaraki?” he called out to the entrance.

A thunk responded. And then a twin thunk soon after. They were his shoes, hitting whatever wall or plank of floor was unlucky enough to be in Shigaraki’s way, Kurogiri realized as he left the kitchen and saw the young ward storming through the living room in bare feet.

“Is everything alright?”

He didn’t respond. Just continued to storm straight for the staircase.

Ignoring Kurogiri when he was pissed off was practically the norm for Shigaraki. That wasn’t enough to worry his ever-attentive and unphased carer. It was the dazed sway and stumble in his step. The way that he walked straight into the decorative end table, clearly hitting his foot hard enough to hurt, but not slowing down. Only throwing the offending furniture aside hard enough to splinter. Violently, but wordlessly.

Now, that behavior worried Kurogiri.

“Tomura Shigaraki, what’s wrong?”

The clear, unsettling mix of numbness and pain practically frothing at the surface, just waiting to bubble over and tear him apart.

“ Tenko .”

A forbidden word in this house, but one that was serious enough to finally stop Shigaraki in his tracks. But not for long. He tried to climb up the stairs just a second later, but it gave Kurogiri enough time to actually catch him by the shoulders and turn him around to look at him.

His expression was ragged, broken. Not unlike the way he looked when he first came into the Boss’s care. But there was a burning hatred in his eyes as well, one much more raging and self-loathing than Kurogiri had ever seen. And that was saying something.

There were no polite words Kurogiri could use to describe this expression. Frankly, it worried the shit out of him.

“Tomura, son,” Kurogiri breathed, letting himself show a sentimentality and worry that his boss would certainly fire him for if he knew of it, “What’s happened?”

Everything about him — his body movement, tense posture, the fresh blood on his neck — it all conveyed a furiousness that Kurogiri was quite used to, a tantrum-like anger that was no cause for concern. But his face read something different. A blankness, a sickness, an exhaustion.

Devastation.

Tomura Shigaraki was breaking before his very eyes.

“Nothing,” he lied through grit teeth.

Kurogiri reached into his vest pocket, pulling out a spare handkerchief he kept exactly for these purposes. He reached it forward, padding Shigaraki’s neck gently, “ This is not nothing, Tomura.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he spat, looking away and tilting his head back so that Kurogiri could get a better angle at his neck.

Now that had to be the greatest lie he’d ever heard the boy spout.

Realizing that this current path was getting him no closer to a clear answer, Kurogiri decided to try a different approach. To dig a little deeper.

“You went to see your friend today, didn’t you?” he asked, “How did that go—”

Shigaraki snapped to him, furious and frantic. He smacked Kurogiri’s hand away from him, might’ve even hit the family caretaker if he hadn’t had the quick instinct to step away.

“Don’t mention her! Don’t you ever mention that stupid bitch to me again!” 

Ah, so that was it.

“It’s alright, Tomura Shigaraki. You can tell me what happened,” Kurogiri assured gently, trying to figure out the best way to get close to him now that he’d started tearing into his neck again. He was like a cornered animal right now, a captive wolf trying to chew its own leg off and ready to bite and kill anything that got near him, “Just calm down—”

“Calm down— I don’t need to fucking calm down!” he practically screamed, “You think I give a shit what she does with her life? What she does with him ?! It doesn’t mean anything! She’s worthless! Just another whore Sensei bought me to keep me from getting bored! I hope she fucking die—!”

Shigaraki froze suddenly, unable to get that last word out of his mouth. Because it wasn’t true. 

None of it was true of course, but that especially — the idea of not only him never seeing her again, but her not existing at all? He couldn’t even pretend to think that. Just the idea of it made him sick.

 He slapped a hand over his mouth suddenly, a distress that Kurogiri knew all too well filling the young boy’s bloodshot eyes.

No more words or time was needed. Kurogiri grabbed Shigaraki by the shoulders and rushed him to the bathroom where he promptly and violently emptied the contents of his stomach.

Continue on AO3

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

❄️Welcome everyone!❄️

If you love the winter holidays as much as I do, then this challenge is for you! It’s pretty simple:

The calendar below has a prompt for every day of the month of December. No matter what holiday you celebrate or even if you don’t celebrate one at all, I hope you find one or more that you like! You can submit as many as you'd like (I plan to do one everyday) or as few as you'd like.

All drabbles should be between 300-1000 words. I will be using wordcounter.net to check them all before reblogging!

Please tag this blog @steddieholidaydrabbles when you post. You can also follow the tag steddieholidaydrabbles to keep up with posts.

All submissions should include a rating and any CW or tags that you feel are necessary. Please put the prompt you are fulfilling as well. It’s not required, but please consider putting Explicit material under a read more. A sample of this may look like: optional title rating: G/T/M/E cw: violence, blood, etc. tags: established relationship, first time, etc.

Because there will be SO many prompts, please try to only post your submission for a prompt ON that day by 11:59 pm EST. Really early or late submissions won’t be ignored, but could easily get missed in the mix of a different prompt on a different day. A reminder of the daily prompt will be posted at 12:01 am EST on the day of the prompt.

Any of the prompts could be holiday related if you wanted them to be, but it's not required!

1st - Open mic night

2nd - Came back wrong

3rd - Mutual pining

4th - Meet-cute at work

5th - FREE SPACE (Domestic fluff)

6th - Cooking together

7th - Hanukkah

8th - Idiots to Lovers

9th - No Upside Down AU

10th - First kiss/First time

11th - Royalty AU

12th - Only one bed

13th - Roadtrip/Vacation

14th - FREE SPACE (Angst with a happy ending)

15th - Time travel

16th - Modern AU

17th - Platonic Stobin

18th - FREE SPACE (Hurt/comfort)

19th - Enemies to lovers

20th - Magic AU

21st - Snow

22nd - Sports AU (players or fans)

23rd - Uncle Wayne adopts Steve

24th - Birthday

25th - Christmas

26th - "Who did this to you?"

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Same rules apply (300-1000 words each, must have rating and cw/tags, and tag this blog if you want it reblogged)

August 19th-21st: High School or College AU September 18th-22nd: Fall October 28th-31st: Halloween November 18th-22nd: Bakery AU Warm Up Rounds AO3 Collection

Steddie Holiday Drabbles AO3 Collection  

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[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

“I have lov-liked you since eighth grade”

pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Byers!Reader

WC: 16.6K (a biggie, happy early Christmas / Hanukkah / Kwanza / or whatever you celebrate)

warnings: cursing, the billy/steve fight (reader gets involved), my terrible writing at times. should be it.

summary: The day is saved! But what happens when you tell the one you lov-like something at the wrong time?

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-

lets say the snowball dance takes place the day before winter break cause they don’t give a specific date, but i always thought that. AND THIS IS MY FIC!! oh baby, NOW I CAN FULLY DO BOYFRIEND STEVE FUCK YEAH!!!!

gonna go on a little hiatus after this chapter. wanna try and stock up my inbetweens for season 2-3. hopefully i’ll be back sometime during the last week on december

series masterlist

@alecmores thank you for all the input when proof reading this season!

previous chapter  next chapter

Once again, everyone was split into groups.

Hopper and Eleven drove back to the lab to close the gate. Jonathan, Nancy, and Joyce drove to Hopper’s cabin to hopefully drive the mind flayer out of Will. While those two groups drove off into the unsettling night, your group stayed in your home, the kids were fully against their part of the plan. Dustin headed inside, calling Steve behind him for something. Just as you were following behind, Mike’s exasperated tone stopped you short.

“This is bullshit.”

“Language.”

“(Y/n), you know this is bullshit. We should be helping them!” Mike’s arms were thrown to the empty driveway, Bob’s car stationed.

“Mike, they don’t need us. Right now the best we can do is just not get into unwanted trouble, which I’m sure is already a challenge for you.” You left the boy behind on the porch, too tired to fully fight back.

Instead of being greeted by silence or hushed whispers when you reentered your home, you heard the sound of things falling and crashing into the ground. The crashing stopped and was followed up with talking, all of this coming from your kitchen. Muted footsteps carried you to the entrance of the kitchen, your side leaning against the opening as you watched the scene before you.

Dustin stood in front of the open refrigerator with all the contents spilled onto the floor at his feet. Steve stood across from him, a wrapped dead demo dog secured in a blanket resting in a bridal hold. No words came to mind at the scene, only a brow raised to the boys.

“You’re explaining this to Ms. Byers, all right?” Was the first thing you heard from Steve’s mouth.

He walked to the fridge and tried throwing the dead creature inside, its head and limbs too long and big to automatically fit the small box. You hold a hand over your mouth to muffle any chuckles.

“Christ. Help me out.” Steve demanded from Dustin.

“What am I supposed to do?” “Get the door, man,” Steve huffed at the kid.

Dustin sauntered over to the fridge door, Steve finally finding his way around the fridge and the demo dog.

“Ew. Jesus-”

“God-” Both of them voiced their disgust.

Steve leaned away from the fridge, Dustin pushing the door in. The two of them shut the door closed with a loud thud, panting at all the effort needed for the task. Steve rested a hand atop Dustin’s hat, a brotherly gesture that warmed your heart at the mindless action.

The moment was over when you heard the front door open and saw Lucas, Max, and Mike finally come back inside. You left your hidden spot and walked into the kitchen. Grabbing your broom and dustpan, you walked back to the living room and held the broom to Lucas and the dustpan to Max, “clean,” you pointed to the broken glass on the floor. They sighed but didn’t argue.

You turned back towards the kitchen, Dustin leaving first with a guilty smile thrown your way. You knew the reason but didn’t acknowledge it right away, not until you met Steve in the kitchen. He was squatting near the floor, resting his body on the toes of his feet, heels resting in the open air. A dish towel rested over his shoulder as he threw items into a grocery bag.

You walked forward two steps before you spoke, “why is my fridge on the kitchen floor, Harrington?”

He got startled at the sound of your voice, almost falling to the ground.

“Jesus,” a hand over his heart, “could ya’ warn a guy first?”

“I could, but you and Dustin put a dead demo dog inside my fridge.”

He cringed at your words, “you saw that?”

“Yeah, I did. That boy already has you wrapped around his finger,” you cheekily reply.

He stood to his full height, warming food forgotten at his feet, “Woah, woah. No, that- that’s not-“

“Oh, just say you like being an older brother.” You twisted your upper half to glance towards the living room then turned back to Steve, “besides…it’s a good look. This whole…” your hands waved around Steve, “paternal instinct. Didn’t know you had this side.”

You leaned your body against the side of your fridge, arms crossed over your chest, one hand toying with your right earlobe. Steve stood directly in front of you, blocking most of your view of everything but him. His hands rested on his hips, a hand quickly sweeping through his thick brown hair. His eyes couldn’t stay put, moving from your face towards the living room where you could hear the kids bickering, and landing back on you. He took a step closer, the space between the two of you closing, just a touch away from the other.

“Hey, um…I just…I just wanted…” Steve was fumbling trying to find his words, his hand that ran through his hair was held in the open space between your bodies.

“I just wanted to apologize, again. For the millionth time.”

Your brows creased, “are you apologizing for the food?” A finger pointed at the floor.

“No, yes, yes it’s one of the things I’m apologizing about. I’ll pay your mom for new food when she gets back or I can go grocery shopping with her or- or you if you wanted-“

“Steve!” You raised your voice to stop his rambling.

Your hands gripped his biceps, the space now gone, only an inch or two between your chest. Your head tilts back, enough to make eye contact with Steve, whose head is tilted forward, chin almost touching his clavicle.

“Steve,” a whisper for the two of you, “what’s going on? Why are you apologizing?”

He worried his teeth into his bottom lip, eyes at your feet. He then grasped your forearms, pulling your hands off his body, but sliding his fingers down until his hands connected with yours. He squeezed your clasped hands, a replacement for slotting your hands together.

“I…I heard some of your conversation…with Jonathan.” He trailed off quietly, nervousness in his tone.

“Oh. Um, I- I’m sorry you had to-“

“No, no. It’s- It’s okay, (Y/n). He’s right…you know, to be hesitant about me. He's a good older brother.” Steve released the hold on your hands, you had to restrain yourself from pulling him back.

Instead, you scratched your head with one hand, “Steve, Jonathan may be right…about things from the past, but he’s not trying to hear your side. He’s being a dick right now.”

Steve took a step back, a crack in your space, “yeah, well, I was a dumbass for all of high school. Friends with Carol and Tommy, feeding into their stupid games, constantly sleeping with girls, then finally settling that down when Nancy came along until that turned into flames.”

“Nancy wasn’t your fault-“

“But it kinda was. I wanted things to be normal, to pretend the past year didn’t happen.”

You wanted to reach a hand out, to touch him, console him, but you held back, choosing to nudge your shoe against his instead. “The past year has been hard on all of us. You can’t blame yourself ‘cause Nancy couldn’t voice her thoughts without liquor. And it’s not her fault either, she lost her friend. She wants justice for Barbara, and that’s understandable.”

“Maybe that’s why she couldn’t love me,” his voice was wet, choking back any tears.

You were quick to quiet those doubts, “no, no. Steve, I’m sure-“

You were cut off from your sentence when a loud commotion from the living room needed your attention, the kids were bickering loudly at each other. Steve left right away, not giving you a chance to give any final statement for your conversation, that’s gonna have to wait for another time.

You walked behind Steve as he pulled the dish towel off his shoulder and held it in his grasp, toying with it. From what you heard as you joined their group, Mike was arguing a bit with Lucas and Max about El and Hopper going back to the lab, worried for their safety- well, El’s safety. Dustin stood off to the side, not butting in with his opinion for once.

“Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. All right?” Steve tried to use his basketball logic in this situation.

It wasn’t the best metaphor. Mike immediately bites back, “Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game. And second, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”

“Right. So- so my point is…” Steve stammered then trailed off, all of you waiting for the point, “right, yeah, we’re on the bench. So, uh, there’s nothing we can do.” He threw the towel back over his shoulder in defeat.

“That’s not entirely true.” Dustin rebutted. “I mean, these demo-dogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

Lucas started to understand Dustin’s thinking, “so if we can get their attention…”

“Maybe we can draw them from the lab,” Max finished the train of thought.

“Clear a path to the gate,” Mike muttered.

“Yeah, and we all die,” Steve threw his hands out, not liking the idea. You were also a bit against their little plan.

“Look, I know you guys want to help, but I think it’ll be best if we stay here.” You stepped from behind Steve, standing in the clear space between him and Mike.

Lucas and Max looked at each other, Dustin and Steve bickered for a moment, and Mike in his own world stomped off to the kitchen, clearly not hearing you.

“This is where Hopper dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So…” he walked off, even one falling a step behind. “Here, right here. This is like a hub. So you got all the tunnel feeding in here.” He stood over a giant spot in the middle of the hallway then fell to his knees on top, “maybe if we set this on fire…”

“Oh, yeah? That’s a no,” Steve immediately cuts Mike off.

Dustin added to Mike’s idea, “the mind flayer would call away his army.”

“They’d all come to stop us,” Lucas finished.

“Guys-“ You were cut off by Mike.

“We circle back to the exit.”

“Guys.” Steve tried his hand, but no dice.

“By the time they realized we’re gone-“

“El would be at the gate.” Max and Mike conspired.

Just as you were about to step in and put an end to this whole plan, Steve clapped loudly and shouted to be heard over their lack of hearing, “Hey. Hey! Hey! This is not happening,” he wagged a finger at the four kids.

“But-“

“No, no, no, no. No buts. I promised I’d- we” a finger between the both of you, “keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what we plan on doing. We’re staying here. On the bench.” The kids rolled their eyes or crossed their arms as Steve continued, “And we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?”

A bite of your bottom lip held back a smile, a grin wanting to stretch like a feline. ‘Steve was really attractive when he was authoritative’ but now wasn’t the time to let your horny thoughts roam free. You cleared your throat and shook your head free of any inappropriate ideas creeping into your mind.

“This isn’t some stupid sports game.” Mike fought back.

Steve pointed a finger then grabbed the towel off his shoulder, using it to get his point across, “I said does everybody understand that? I need a yes.”

The kids didn’t reply and before they could give a verbal yes to Steve, a loud engine outside stole the show. Everyone’s heads turned at the noise, Max ran away from the group and jumped onto the couch, peering out the living room window with Lucas at her side. You rushed behind the two, leaning down to get a peek at this new development, all you saw were headlights and the faint tune of a rock song presumably blasting through the car speakers. A chill snaked up your spine.

“It’s my brother,” Max whispered. “He can’t know I’m here,” She turned to look at you, fear swimming in her eyes, “He’ll kill me,” a glance at Lucas, “he’ll kill us.”

“Ah, okay. Well, first, get away from the window,” you grabbed their shoulders and shoved them away from the open window, hoping Billy didn’t spot them.

You ushered them away, along with Dustin and Mike, and ordered them to stay near the hallway close to the kitchen. Wanting all the kids to be hidden from any wrath Billy would rain down upon them, especially on Max and Lucas. You looked at Steve who was staring at the front door, and you could already hear the gears turning in his brain, a bad idea was about to be born. You rushed to stand before him, blocking the view of the door and having his eyes drawn to you instead.

“Steve,” you whispered as you crept closer, “whatever you’re thinking of doing, please don’t.”

He kept his eyes on you as he rubbed his lips together, mulling your words over, then looked at the door again, “just keep the kids safe.”

He started to walk away and you boldly reached out and held his left wrist in your clammy grasp, heart racing while your eyes glued to the floor, watching the two pairs of shoes. You licked your lips, not sure what you were going to say or why you outright jumped over your boundaries.

“Steve…” your fingers rubbed over the bone and skin, “just- just…”

“Hey,” you watched as his feet turned towards you, an inch of space between the tips. The gentle press of a finger crooked under your chin lifted your head from the floor before making hesitant eye contact with Steve. His brows pinched in the middle, he stared with empathy dripping from the warm brown of his eyes. “It’s gonna be fine. I promise,” hushed whispers only for the two of you to hear and remember.

You weren’t brave enough to say anything back so you only nodded your head in reply before releasing Steve’s wrist and letting him free, heading into the night to hopefully scare off this beast.

The front door closing sounded almost like a gong, a noise reverberating and ringing within your eardrums.

“What…What was that?” Dustin inquired.

You kept your focus on the door, “nothing. Just a friend worried for a friend.”

“Really, cause it looked like-” Whatever Dustin was gonna say next, it was cut off by an abrupt oof, someone shutting him up.

You were fixed to your spot, hands flexing into fists then expanding, a repeated motion to try and calm your heart. You wanted to be beside Steve, wanting to keep him safe from Billy and his fucked up brain. Billy was crazy, you’ve been fortunate to only encounter the gross teen twice, once at the community pool on the last day of summer, a forgotten face, and a second time at school when he tried asking you out. You saw how he was aggressive when he didn’t get his way, how he would start spitting venom into your face, and with just a few mentions of Billy to Max, you knew how she felt about him.

“What are they talking about?” A mutter spread through the living room.

You snapped your attention away from the closed door and turned to the kids who were peering out the living room window, not even trying to keep hidden from curious eyes.

You rushed over and yanked the back of their shirts, dragging them away, “what the hell is wrong with y’all? Do you want to be seen?” “You think they saw?” Lucas asked, a touch of worry seeping his words.

His question was answered by the front door swinging open, Billy making himself present. You stood in front of the four kids, arms stretched across them, a weak cage to protect them from a wild animal. Billy’s wild eyes and crazy smirk made you want to shed your skin, a ghost feeling of his hands wandering over your body, fingers pressing deep into your flesh and leaving bruises in the shape of his hands.

“Well, if it isn’t bitch Byers.” he stepped further into the house, footsteps bouncing off the walls.

“Where’s Steve?”

“Oh, your pussy of a boyfriend…he’s taking a nap. But I’ll happily show you a great time.” He stepped forward, you stepped back.

“Get the fuck out of my house, Billy.”

“Ah, well, I can’t do that, Byers. See, I’ve got to have a conversation with Lucas Sinclair.” His deadly stare slid over your shoulder, presumably where Lucas stood behind you.

“I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max.”  His eyes went from Lucas to Max, his voice low.

“Billy, go away,” Max uttered, no waiver to her words

“You disobeyed me. And you know what happens when you disobey me.” He started to get closer with each word, “I break things.”

Billy started to rush forward, a bull in a china shop, and you knew you couldn’t hold him off at this moment. So you tried to push the kids away from him for just a moment, Billy’s hands shoving you off to the side, the force sliding you onto the kitchen floor, shoulder ramming into the legs of one of the chairs.

Only the yells of the kids told you Billy got Lucas, then you saw the hurried steps of Billy’s boots in your field of vision. He shoved Lucas into a cabinet in the corner, his face blocking Lucas, his scuffed shoes an inch from the ground. The low mutters of Billy spitting words directly into Lucas’ stock face, he uselessly shoved at his shoulders to try and free himself.

Quietly, you started to push yourself up, your body twisting so your knees dug into the wood flooring as you were preparing to run into Billy, but you were stopped when arms wrapped around your waist and yanked you away. You were stunned, but it also told you Steve was okay, which was one less thing to worry about tonight. He dragged you away from Billy and set you on your feet in front of the kids, his arms leaving your waist and his hands flying to caress your cheeks, fingers tucking hair behind your ears.

“Watch the kids,” his quiet command.

You didn’t have time to process Steve’s gentle touch, Lucas freed himself from Billy’s grimey grasp and ran back to your group, and you pushed him behind you. Billy was bent at the waist, hands resting on his thighs or over his crotch, you smirked at the karma Lucas handed Billy.

“You are so dead, Sinclair!” Billy roared.

Steve stomped up behind Billy, turning him by the shoulder, “No. You are!”

And he punched Billy square in the jaw.

Billy’s head flew with the force of the swing, his torso twisting and a hand flying to the red spot. Steve stayed in his spot, fanning out his right hand, and watching as Billy crazily cackled before you all. A crazed smile was stretched over his face and a trickle of blood stained a nostril. He was whooping and hollering like this was some stupid, fratboy game to him.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh?” Steve ran a quick hand through his hair, “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about!”

You kept watch of the boys, eyes trained mostly on Billy, waiting to see his next move. He walked closer to Steve, getting close to his face trying to intimate him or some shit, you wanted to move closer but held back. Steve stood his ground, not saying a word. It was like a western showdown, the three of you waiting with bated breath to see who would make the first shot.

You would, “get the fuck out of here, Billy,” with a stern voice. You shocked yourself with how stable it came out, you knew your body was giving a light tremble, and one of the kids' hands settled on your forearm.

Billy’s blue eyes slid off Steve and wormed themselves onto you, his tongue darted out and licked over his bottom lip, you wanted to cut it off.

“You should teach your bitch when to keep her mouth shut. Learn to speak when spoken to.” His eyes never leave yours for a second.

Steve didn’t turn to face you, but you notice the slight turn of his head, knowing he paid attention. His focus was still on Billy, the hand he punched with pushing into the blonde's chest making him lean back an inch, “get out,” you heard the low hiss of Steve’s command.

The air was now charged, you knew the feeling very well, it was charged with anticipation. Everyone waiting for the incoming bomb to explode and destroy everything in its path. You held your breath, hoping it could help in some way even though you knew it never changed the charging bull’s path. In the blink of an eye, everything happened.

Billy swung with his right arm, but Steve ducked in time to save his face and threw a solid hit with his left fist. Billy’s body swung with the force brought to his head, his body falling onto the kitchen table, paper and dishes falling to the floor.

“Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!” “Get him!” The kids were chanting behind you.

You couldn’t speak, only watch the sight before you. Billy started laughing again, but Steve cut him off with another punch to his face, body twisting and slamming into the kitchen counter. “Murder the son of a bitch!” Someone, probably Dustin shouted. Steve landed another blow, and Billy flew into the sink. “Now! Now!” “Get that shithead!” More chanting seemed to only be from Dustin and Mike, Max and Lucas haven’t said a word yet.

There was a pause in the punches, Steve only watching Billy who was grinning like a maniac, Dustin once again yelling in your ear, “Kill the son of a bitch!”

And within those quick seconds, Billy got the upper hand. Grabbing a plate next to the sink and smashing it over Steve’s head, throwing him off balance.

“Steve!” You and Lucas screamed just as Max shouted, “Billy!”

Steve started to stumble away, his back to Billy who was rearing up behind him, “Steve!” You cried out just as Billy grabbed his shoulder and landed a hard punch to his cheek. The force sent Steve stumbling into the living room, Billy throwing things off shelves in his anger field rampage. Billy gripped Steve’s jacket in a tight hold as Steve pushed against his shoulders, trying to create a bit of space between them, but it was useless. Billy pulled Steve a bit closer and growled into his face, “No one tells me what to do!” And he rammed his head into Steve’s, his body sliding on the floor, sending the papers askew. The only noises within the house were the loud and harsh breathing of everyone and the animalistic cries and grunts Billy released, “Woo! Get up!”

He stormed over to Steve, and the sounds of his steps echoed loudly within your ears. All you could do was watch Billy as he twisted Steve to lie on his back as Billy knelt and started throwing punch after punch. Not giving Steve a second to breathe, both fists were flying into his cheeks and jaw, Steve not even making a move to push Billy off. It felt like everything was happening in slow motion, Billy’s fist not stopping at any moment, the kids’ shouts and screams telling Steve to get up or yelling at Billy to stop or leave Steve alone, until you couldn’t stand seeing Billy beat Steve for a second longer, even your feet moved sluggishly.

You didn’t fully think it through, but you’ve been in certain situations like this before, with your dad beating Jonathan or stopping him before he could lay a finger on Will or Joyce, your first instinct was to stop the fists. So, when your mind caught up to speed, your feet moved into action and you rushed forward and jumped into Billy’s back, arms tight around his throat. You even used a hand to scratch at his face or pull his tangled knots so he would focus on you instead of Steve, who was laying still as a corpse on the floor, blood and broken skin littering his face.

You tighten your legs around his waist, acting like a koala. Billy stood up and away from Steve, his body twisting and thrashing to throw you off like a mechanical bull, but you’ve done this enough times that you know how to stay on. His claws would grip at your hands or legs, trying to pull you apart, but you would fight back, you even bit his ear hard and yanked at his hair forcing his body to lean back.

“You bitch!” He cried.

“Takes one to know one,” you taunted.

He sneered then suddenly slammed you into a wall, your breath left your lungs at the force. You could hear the kids' yells, but they were silenced with the force of the wall slamming against your spine, your head making hard contact causing stars and dots to spot your vision. Your grip loosened and Billy took that opportunity to flip you off his back and slam you into the flooring, only a foot away from Steve. You gasped, trying to collect any air into your lungs, but nothing was entering.

Billy, doing the same thing he did to Steve earlier, walked over to you and knelt, almost straddling you. A hand was fisted into the cotton material of your shirt, half your body off the floor and leaning towards Billy’s twisted face.

“Should leave the fighting to the men, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face,” a finger caresses your cheek and you flinch away.

“Didn’t know…you were such…a gentleman.” Your words came in breathless increments. “But…you see…I’ve already had… a man put his hands on me. And I… know how… to fight back.”

The feeling came back in one hand so you took the opportunity to fist it into his hair and tug, hard. You pushed yourself up and with both hands on Billy’s head, you slammed your skulls together, knocking Billy to the floor and giving you the upper hand. You scurried over his lap and quickly landed punch after punch, giving him the same treatment he handed to Steve.

The cheers of the kids were white noise, you couldn’t take your eyes off Billy, knowing he’ll get back at you any second. And once his face started to bleed, his cheeks and jaw redding, and your knuckles aching you had to let up a little. Your breathing came in pants and seeing that Billy wasn’t moving at the moment, you looked to the kids. Their eyes were wide, mouths gaped open. Dustin even threw a thumbs-up at you, but the peace didn’t last long.

Billy’s hands shot up and squeezed themselves around your throat. You tried to dig your nails under his fingers, and wiggle your way out, but he had a death grip on you and you’re pretty sure he was gonna kill you. Billy flipped the two of you around, you on the floor and his looming figure crowded around you. A hand reached out around you, trying to find something to knock over his head, but there wasn’t anything and you were terrified.

You could feel the tears welling up along your lash line, scared this is how you die. At the hands of some creep, Billy is probably gonna pounce on Lucas once life drains from your eyes. Your legs were kicking and thrashing, hands once again trying to pry him off.

“Should have let me take you out,” he got closer to your face, “I would have shown you an amazing night, make you forget all about Harrington.” And he stuck his tongue out and licked a stripe on the side of your face, you wanted to throw up.

“Fuck…you,” you choked out while you smushed your hands against his face.

That only spurred him to squeeze harder, your vision going fuzzy with the lack of oxygen reaching your brain. Your legs stopped kicking, hands slipping from Billy’s face, your knuckles thud against the wood. And just as you feel ready to pass out, an angel peeks over Billy’s shoulder, green jacket, fiery red hair swaying with the motions, and something small held in a hand diving sharp into Billy’s neck. 

His hands left your neck to touch the syringe sticking out his neck and relief floods you. Your mind was dizzy, but at least you weren’t passed out, although you were probably a second away. You turned on your side, one forearm holding your upper body off the floor and a hand was lightly touching your throat, a bruise sure to last about a month, your throat felt like sandpaper, the saliva alleviating a bit of the burn.

You dragged yourself to Steve, he was still lying unconscious on the floor, but his chest was moving up and down, very slowly. You could hear Billy talking to Max, but knew it was safe now, the morphine was dragging him down, and then the loud thud of Billy’s limp body crashed to the floor two steps away from you. Everyone just watched, not saying a word, only Billy laughing again for the fifth time tonight. You watched as Max grabbed Steve’s bat and held it before Billy.

“Max…”

“From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”

“Screw you,” was Billy’s response.

Max didn’t like the answer, so she swung the bat between Billy’s legs, and you honestly wish it hit a different target. Billy’s head looked at the bat then Max held it back over her shoulder, yelling at him, “Say you understand! Say it! Say it!”

“I understand,” Billy spoke quietly.

“What?” “I understand,” much louder this time. Then he passed out.

You could finally breathe properly, both mentally and physically. With Billy down, you allowed all your focus to be on Steve, your knees rested beside his shoulder, and you gently caressed his face, tilting it to see all the bruises and cuts displayed on it. “Oh, Stevie,” you cooed to no one but yourself. Thumbs and index fingers smoothing over the bumps and dried blood, a finger sliding down his nose trying to find any broken cartilage. You felt brave at this moment, so you leaned forward until your lips met his forehead, it wasn’t anything crazy, just a phantom touch for you to remember.

When you pulled back and away from Steve, you switched your attention to the kids as they were in a group huddle, whispers, and hushed voices scheming together. You walked to the group and that’s when they stopped talking, forced smiles, and bugged-eyed looks.

“What’s going on?” You huffed out, hands flying to your hips.

No one answered, only glanced at each other, “guys, just tell me. I’m not in the mood for games.”

Dustin stepped forward, “We’re going to the tunnels.” A statement.

“No.”

“(Y/n), either you come with us, or we’re going without you and comatose.” Max held a pair of keys between her fingers.

“Where’d you get those?”

“Billy.”

You thought it over. You knew they were going to do their plan no matter what you chose and if you were there you could keep them safe, but you didn’t want to leave Steve behind. Also, you weren’t sure about Billy, but you would rather be gone when he eventually wakes up.

“Fine, we’ll go,” you relented, “but, we’re taking Steve. So help me carry him to the car.”

…

“Max, for the love of god, please drive straight!”

“Well if Lucas could give me the directions a few minutes earlier that would be great!”

“I’m trying here, okay!”

For the last fifteen minutes, Max had been swerving and going probably thirty over the speed limit, rushing to get to the tunnels, but also giving you a heart attack in the process. You could have driven, you should have driven, but you couldn’t make yourself. Not when Steve had still been unconscious the entire car ride so far, you were starting to become heavily worried for him, especially since he should have been rushed to a hospital, but you didn’t want to split up. So you slipped into the cramped backseat of the Camaro with Dustin and Mike squished to one side with Steve’s feet resting in their laps and you were on the other side with his head resting in yours, hands keeping a firm hold to stop him from getting whiplash. Your eyes switch from frazzled at the state of Max driving to glancing at your lap and being frazzled with Steve’s eye’s not opening for almost an hour. Hands nonstop running through his wind-swept hair to delicate touches over the colorful band-aids Dustin grabbed from his backpack and taped over a cut on his brow and one near his chin. The ice pack you grabbed from the freezer on the way out was slowly defrosting, water droplets trailing down Steve’s forehead and running down the side of his face, landing with a quiet splat on his jacket shoulder.

You turned away from Steve and back to Lucas and Max in the front, Max looking ahead of her, only turning to Lucas for a couple of seconds when he was quiet. Lucas had his head buried in the giant map that was splayed across his lap, a finger trailed along a marked path, hopefully, the one leading to the tunnel. Your attention was dragged away when you felt movement against your thighs and it made your heart race.

Looking down at the head on your thighs, Steve was barely turning his head to the sides. You moved the ice pack to the floor and placed your hands on both sides of his face, not wanting him to hurt his neck or worsen the state he was already in. As you peered down you took notice of Steve’s eyes opened slowly, his lashes sticking together before peeling enough for him to see Mike, or at least someone else with the name that leaves his chapped lips.

“Nancy?”

Mike turned his head at Steve and pulled a face, one you would have chuckled at if your heart didn’t give a squeeze. Choosing to ignore the pang, you cleared your throat and leaned your head into Steve’s field of vision. Loose strands hung free and tickled his face, he tried to reach out but grunted in pain at the small stretch. You pushed his arm to rest on his stomach, hands staying on his face, wanting to soothe any pain he might have.

“Stevie, how are you feeling?” You let the old nickname slip, but he didn’t comment.

“Hurt,” was his only response.

“You put up a good fight.” Dustin stealing the attention, “He kicked your ass, but you put up a fight. (Y/n) made sure he didn’t kill you, pretty badass of her.”

“Jumped on his back, threw punches, and kicked him in the dick. She’s my new role model,” Max piped up from the front, turning to look back at you for a second.

“Eyes on the road, please,” you pleaded.

“What?” Steve moaned. He tried moving his arms again, a new target in mind.

His clammy touch reached your knuckles, pads on fingers tracing over the broken and red skin.

“(Y/n)...” He trailed off, another voice stepping in before he formed his thoughts.

“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for a half mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai.” Lucas directed Max, a steady grip on the wheel and going at a slower speed.

Steve became more conscious, he directed his attention to the front seat, probably noting the two tweens then looking back at you, “what’s going on?” He was confused, understandably confused.

He tried sitting up, but you kept a firm pressure on his shoulders holding him down. Dustin tried calming him down, “Steve, it’s alright. She’s driven before,” but that was followed by Mike’s sarcastic, “yeah, in a parking lot. (Y/n)‘s the one who insisted on her.”

“I can’t see things at night. I need glasses,” you defended yourself.

Steve started to panic, he was mumbling to himself, cries of “oh god” repeated over and over. His hands trying to grasp at something, trying to pull his body forward, but you could see the flicker of pain over his face at the actions. You took it upon yourself to hold him down or against you, both giving the same result in this predicament.

“Stevie…” 

“They wanted to leave you behind, but (Y/n) and I were insistent.”

“Oh my god.”

“Dude, you have to calm down,” Dustin was of no help.

“Dustin, how about you stop talking!” You quipped back.

Your back and forth with Dustin didn’t help calm Steve down, and when Max decided to get a lead foot with the gas causing the car to shoot up in speed, it only caused him to freak out even more.

“Oh god! Oh god! Stop the car! Stop the car!” He repeated.

“Max! Slow down!” You cried to the redhead, still keeping a firm grip on Steve’s thrashing body.

“I told you he’d freak out,” Mike’s annoying voice piped up.

“Everybody shut up!” Max yelled, “I’m trying to focus!” Everyone but Steve shut their mouths, he continued his cry of “oh god”.

“Oh, wait, that’s Mount Sinai. Make a left!” Lucas stated.

“What?”

“Make a left!” He repeated.

His late directions caused Max to swerve into a mailbox before she hit the gas and hit a hard left, everyone shifting in their seats and screaming bloody murder. You would have laughed at the high pitch scream from Lucas, but you were too focused on Steve who was grasping at your knees while you kept a hand to the window for support.

“Max, if we want to save Will, you have to drive straight and slower!”

…

Max’s driving only got worse once she hit the giant pumpkin sign home to Mr. Merrill's farm, stopping hard before swan-diving directly into the giant hole where the tunnels lead beneath. You swear you almost slid off the leather bench and face-planted into the headrest of the passenger's seat at the harsh braking.

Once she turned the engine off, all the kids tumbled their way out of the car, leaving you and Steve alone.

“You okay?” You whispered, even if it was just the two of you.

Steve started to sit up away from your body, the grunts and quiet whimpers giving you the real answer before Steve lied and said, “I’m fine,” and then he toppled out the side door. You huffed at his stubbornness before following behind. You took notice of the kids collecting all the items they stuffed into the trunk, goggles, scarves, rope, gasoline, it was like they were military men who’d been through this before.

“Guys,” Steve called to them.

You just watched as they continued with their task, ignoring Steve as he called for their attention.

“Steve,” you stood in front of him, his back against the car holding him up.

Your hands rested against his cheeks, fingers once again tracing over his battle scars. Someone within you tonight chose to fully run from the lines you drew in the sand, maybe it was seeing how close Jonathan was acting with Nancy, maybe because you and Steve seemed a bit closer, or maybe because you saw Billy beat the crap out of Steve and you were scared out of your mind. Or you just wanted to make sure he was safe and comforted, who knows really?

“He did a number on you, Stevie,” the nickname slipped again.

Steve huffed, you stopped your motions, thumbs pressing into the clean skin of his cheeks while your pinkies sat under his ears.

“What?”

“I just…I haven’t heard that name for so long.” The kids were long forgotten between the both of you.

“Oh, uh, sorry. It- It just slipped.” You dropped your hands.

Steve caught your wrist, pulling your hands to his face, thumbs grazing over the dried blood, “you shouldn’t have fought Billy, he’s a psycho.”

He dropped your hands between your bodies, eyes focusing on you and only you. You wanted to tell him, wanted to get it through his thick skull that you would do anything to make sure he was safe. That you would go through hell and back if it kept him from getting bruises on his face or a broken nose. You wished you could show him what you want to say, wish you could smother his bruised face in delicate kisses, hoping every press of your lips could soothe any of the aches bothering him at this moment.

But you couldn’t do any of those, so you chose a simpler option, “Steve, I’ve dealt with worse before. I know how to handle shitty people.” Your voice tapered off, and a flash of your dad hitting you crossed your eyes.

“Hey,” a pull of your hands.

Steve was staring at you with deep intensity, it made you release a quiet gasp and it caused your heart to pick up speed, “I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever again. Not if I can help it.”

You tried to keep your face calm, not wanting to show him how much that statement, that promise, meant to you, “And I promise to keep you from harm and to always clean your wounds.”

“Are you two saying your vows? Kinda early, isn’t it?” A high-pitched voice broke the bubble.

You immediately stepped away from Steve, missing the warmth on your wrist already. You cleared your throat and looked at the tween before you, snorkeling goggles snug over his eyes and nose, a thanksgiving table napkin tied around his throat, and finally, a pair of old garden gloves covering his hands and his backpack straps sat on his shoulders.

“We are not going down there right now. I made myself clear.” Steve turned away from you and faced the boy, with a stern tone of voice.

Dustin just rolled his eyes, “yeah that was before you passed out, then (Y/n) was in charge and she’s fine with it.”

“Okay, I didn’t say I was fine with it. I just know you four idiots were gonna do this either way and it would be safer if I came with you.”

“(Y/n), we’re doing this for Will.” Dustin reminded you.

Your harsh demeanor slipped when he reminded you, “yeah, I know. I just don’t like heading directly into danger. I did that last year and it wasn’t fun.”

“I also did that last year and I kicked ass with a bat,” Steve reminded the two of you.

“Yeah, but you didn’t know beforehand. I made the concise choice days in advance, which means I’m an idiot.”

“That doesn’t make you-”

“Guys!” Dustin shouted, “I don’t care about whatever you’re talking about. Right now we are about to jump into an underground tunnel to save Will. And the both of you promised to keep us safe,” he shoved the backpack out to Steve, the bat’s handle sticking out, “so keep up safe.”

…

It’s like you fell down Alice’s rabbit hole into Wonderland, but a darker, much more twisted version.

All the kids headed down before you and Steve, Dustin the last of them to join. You and Steve shared a look, both of you having goggles protecting your eyes and a bandana tied around your neck. You hated this, you wish you were back home right now, but you tried to push the anxiety away. Right now Will needs you, and you need to burn this out of him so El could permanently close the gate.

“I’ll head down first,” Steve decided for the both of you.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.” He tugged the red bandana to cover his nose and mouth before heading down below.

‘It’ll be fine’ ‘Everything is going to work out’ You had to repeat to yourself like a mantra.

“(Y/n)!” You peered below and saw Steve looking up at you, his arms stretched up.

With a few quick shakes to your hands and head, you slipped your scarf over your nose and gripped the rope tightly. When it was only your head above the tunnel, you felt hands gripping your waist, your shirt lifting a bit at the touch. You loosened your death grip on the rope when you knew Steve had a secure grasp on you, your back slightly sliding down his front.

‘Of course, when some shit goes down Steve and I manage to get more touchy’ ‘It’s not fair’

“You okay?” A breathy whisper in your ear.

You hope the shiver that ran through your body wasn’t visible, “yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” You looked around at the environment surrounding you, it’s like you were inside the digestive system, which didn’t help with your thinking much, “holy shit.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s this way.” Mike was on the right side of the tunnel.

“You’re pretty sure, or certain?” Dustin argued.

“I’m one hundred percent sure. Just follow me and you’ll know.”

Steve stopped him before he could leave, “whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, I don’t think so.”

Mike turned to him, “what?”

Steve stood in front of him, a flashlight shining in his eyes, “any of you shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?”

“Well, what about (Y/n)?”

“She’s more responsible than me, so all blame is going to be pointed my way. From here on out, I’m leading the way, and (Y/n) will be at the back.” You didn’t want to be at the back but didn’t protest. “Come on, let’s go.” Steve took the makeshift map and led the way.

…

‘I hate this I hate this I hate this I’

“(Y/n)?”

You almost tripped over one of the many roots that were sticking out of the ground, Dustin’s hands helping keep you upright. You allowed yourself a second to stop and just breathe, even though that wasn’t the best option with the spores floating through the air.

“Are you okay?” Dustin stuck to your side.

You wanted to lie, say you were fine and hoped it comforted the boy in any way, but you couldn’t. “Not really, but once we’re out of here, I’ll be better.” You continued your speed walking.

Steve kept a quick stride, his longer legs helping while you and the kids struggled a bit, your legs got tired quickly but you just pushed through. The sooner this is done, you can all haul ass out of here and be free from demo dogs. Soon you were brought to a new area, a giant open area where multiple tunnels snaked out from and a light fog settled at the floor.

“What is this place?” You could hear Max's question.

“Guys, come on. Keep moving,” Steve commanded.

The other three followed behind like baby ducks following their mother. You stepped around Dustin as he was looking around the place and you didn’t want to fall behind and get lost, but when he stopped completely you turned around and took notice that he was looking at something above him.

“Dustin!”

Then something sprayed directly into his face causing him to scream and wave his arms about, “Shit! Shit!” He fell to the ground before you rushed over to him to assess any damage done to him.

“Dustin! Dustin!” You could hear the others making their way back toward the two of you.

“Dustin, tell me if you’re hurt,” but he was just spasming on the ground.

“What happened?” Steve knelt beside you, looking between you and Dustin.

“I don’t-”

“It’s in my mouth! Some got in my mouth! Shit!” He pulled the napkin away and was coughing.

Five pairs of torches were pointed at Dustin, his heaving slowing down before he stopped and looked at your group, “I’m okay.”

“Are you serious?” “Very funny, man” “Nice. Very nice.” “Jesus, what an idiot.” They all grumbled before leaving you and Dustin.

“Dustin, you sure you’re okay?” A hand rubbed over his shoulder.

He huffed a few times, “yeah, yeah. I’m okay.”

You nodded your head, stood up, and held a hand out for him to take.

“Byers, Henderson, let’s go!” Steve shouted from ahead.

…

“All right, Wheeler. I think we found your hub.”

“Drench it.”

The kids got to work on soaking as many square inches of the space, top to bottom, every side, and tunnel opening. Lucas had an old weed sprayer, filled with gasoline and covered the walls and ceiling. Max, Mike, and Dustin spread their containers of fluid on the ground and the nest that was resting in the middle of the space. You and Steve stood back and kept watch for any movement that could be a demo dog.

Once they were out of fluid and the room smelled like twenty gas stations, the kids ran behind you and Steve. Steve held the lighter in his hand and looked over his shoulder at the four of you.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.” “Ready.” “Ready.” “Let’s get this over with,” you muttered.

“Light her up,” Dustin confirmed to Steve.

“I’m in such deep shit.” Steve panted before flicking the lighter and throwing it.

Roots and vines started to thrash in the flames. You threw your arms over your face to ward off any heat, but it was no use. You started to push the kids to start running back to the rope, Steve grasping your hand in turn as he pulled the both of you away.

“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” You muttered, or Dustin, or Steve, or everyone was thinking the same thing at this moment.

Steve had to release his hold on you to look back at the map to guide everyone, you stayed near the back as he went to the front, light slicing through the muddy dark. In everyone’s hast to leave, you almost didn’t register the noise of Mike tripping or screaming for help. You turned back to him and tried to use your hands, hoping it might loosen enough for him to slip free.

“Steve! Help!” You cried for the boy.

“Hold on!”

“Steve, pull him out!” Dustin demanded as he grabbed Mike’s arms.

“Move! Move!” You heard him shouting as he rushed over.

You jumped away from the root wrapped around Mike’s ankle and watched as Steve threw the bat down, hard. Then again, and one more time before it slithered away and Mike scrambled away. Steve held the bat low, his chest huffing with the energy he just used, a hand running through the wild strands.

‘I think I’m in love’ You stared with your mouth agape.

“(Y/n), come on.” Steve pulled you up with your hands intertwined.

When you turned around to continue your hasty leave, a low growling stopped everyone, and blocking your trail, a demo dog snarled at your group. Steve pushed you behind him and held the bat high, ready to swing at any moment. You grasp the back of Steve’s jacket lightly, both in fear and not wanting him to walk toward it.

But it was Dustin who started forward, a hand reached out for him but missed, “Dustin!” You hissed at the boy.

Everyone else joined in low mutters and hisses, trying to stop Dustin in his tracks. He just shushed everyone and continued his slow steps, the demo dog copying his movements and getting closer to him.

You could hear the quiet words he spoke to the creature, “Hey. It’s me, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin.” He knelt to level with it, like an adult talking with a child. He continued to talk to it with hushed whispers, then it flared its mouth, its floured head and rows of teeth on display. Everyone jumped, and you clutched Steve’s jacket a bit tighter.

“Dustin! Please!” You once again try to reason with him.

He just held a hand out, a stopping gesture. He resumed talking, then took his backpack off and pulled something out, holding it up. It might have been a candy bar, he always carried some type of food in his backpack. He dropped it to the floor then he waved behind him at your group to walk through the tunnel. One by one everyone tiptoed past the demo dog, it seemed consumed with the candy which you were thankful for. As you were the last one past, Dustin gathered his bag and then joined your group, saying goodbye to the beast.

…

An earthquake threw everyone off their feet.

“What was that?”

“Just go! Go!” Pushing the kids forward, then you hear it.

The loud thundering of growling and feet of a stamped. 

“Run! Run!” Mike cried.

One more tunnel straight then a final left turn brought you back to the hanging rope, ready to bring you to safety above ground. Steve stood under the rope and helped Max up first. Then, once she was above ground, it was Lucas’ turn. Once Lucas was free, Mike was next and you could hear the growls getting louder, closer.

“Dustin, come on,” you made a hand basket for a foot to boost him higher.

With your extra boost along with Steve’s help, Dustin was safely above the tunnels when you heard the thundering paws heading in your direction.

“(Y/n)! Come on, go!”

“Steve, I barely passed gym, I can’t do pull-ups!”

You ignored the exasperated huff that escaped Steve’s throat, instead mentally preparing yourself for death. But the tugging of Steve’s arm wrapping around your waist and pushing you behind him as he raised the bat, took over instead. The roars and growls were getting louder by the second, almost drowning out the kid's cries for the two of you, but you could still hear their desperate pleas.

“Steve…” you pressed your front directly against his toned back, arms looping tight around his waist.

You felt him stiffen, but held your position, “Steve…if we don’t-”

“We’re gonna be alright, (Y/n),” one hand dropped to caress your forearms.

You absorbed his words, deciding to not continue your mindless ramble. You just held him tight and shoved your face just below his shoulder blades, the sounds of the demo dogs running towards you sounded like a waterfall directly in your ears. You waited for the screams, the blinding hot white pain, the trickles of blood seeping from your wounds, or having your bones bend and snap, but none of that happened.

You didn’t dare move your face or open your eyes until the noise died down, and all you could hear and feel was you and Steve, your chests heaving and gasping in loud pants. Your tight grasp slipped, Steve twisting to face you, his free hands jumping to your cheek.

“You okay?” You could almost feel his breath on your face from how close he stood before you.

You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded your head as confirmation.

“Love birds!” You jerked your head up, the kids all staring down, “let’s go!”

…

“Steve, I don’t think you should be driving.”

“I’m not letting Max behind the wheel of a car until she has a permit.”

“We were in a rush!”

Once you and Steve were out of the tunnels, finally a moment of peace for the day, the headlights of Billy’s Camaro blazed to life, blinding everyone. You thought nothing of it at the moment, but once when dimmed back to normal, you realized it was Eleven. She had closed the gate, Will was freed from the mind flayer, and you could use a nap right now. So everyone tumbled into the small car, you and Steve now in the front with the kids in the back, their grumbles falling on deaf ears.

“Do y’all want to stay at my house? Honestly, it would be so much easier.” You twisted to face the four tired kids.

They just nodded and mumbled their acceptance of the invitation before dozing off. Max leaning on Lucas’ shoulder, Dustin and Mike knocked their heads against each other, neither making a move to change to a more comfortable position.

“You think Billy’s still there?” Steve whispered.

“For his sake, I hope not,” you grumbled as you slumped in the passenger seat.

…

The house was quiet, but the lights were still on. You and Steve gently shook the kids awake, the heels of their palms digging into their eyes or running the back of their hands against their mouths to wipe away drool from the thirty-minute ride back. You didn’t lock the door on your way out, so Dustin was the first to enter with kids in tow, then you, then Steve.

“Where’s Billy?” Max muttered, hands rubbing at her eyes.

“I don’t know, nor do I care right now,” was your answer, which she took perfectly fine. “Boys why don’t you sleep in Will’s room, you can maybe all fit on his bed. Max, you can sleep in my room with me, if you want.”

Everyone accepted the sleeping arrangements, the boys decided to get the sleeping bags that they keep when they stay over. Their feet drag on the floor, high-pitched noises following until the two doors close, leaving you and Steve in the living room.

“Is it…Can I-”

“Steve, I will tie you to a bed so you can get some rest. But first, I have to clean you up.” You tugged him behind you with a grasp on his wrist.

The harsh yellow lighting of the small bathroom caused your eyes to squint, needing a moment for the light throbbing against your temple to dim. You dragged Steve to sit on the toilet, hands dropping to his lap as you moved to the sink storage, pulling out the dusting first-aid kit. There hasn’t been a need to use it in serious emergencies for about three years, it was still well stocked from the last time Joyce refilled it.

You grabbed some cotton balls and the bottle of hydrogen peroxide, saturating them enough before standing before him, “this is gonna sting, so…you can hold me if you need to.” You leaned in, left hand sitting at the juncture of his jaw and neck while your right hand with the cotton balls dapped quickly and gently at a wound on his brow.

Steve’s hands shot up and gripped your hips, tight. His hissing filled the quiet night along with your soft mumbled apologies, one right after another, he would hiss and you would apologize. You made quick work of the many bruises, the one on his eyebrow, his forehead, and a bit of his cheek. And you’ve already gone through four cotton balls that have dyed red.

“Steve…can you- can you open your legs?” You flushed at the sentence. Even Steve threw an arched eyebrow at you, “I- I need to get closer.”

He chuckled at your stutters, spread his legs wider, and with the help of the hands at your hips, he tugged you closer. Stomach close to his face, he could press himself into you, or dig his chin into the doughy flesh and stare up at you, which would cause the butterflies to erupt. You had to ignore the thunder of your heartbeats, hand moving to hold his cheek as you started on his nose bridge.

His eyes were closed tight, brows creasing in the middle from the pain the liquid was causing him. His fingers dug into your jeans, but his pointer and thumb found their way under your shirt and pressed into your flesh. As you changed out the dirty cotton ball for a new one, Steve’s eyes opened and peered up at you, while your hands moved from his cheek to a firm grip on his chin.

“I’m pretty sure Billy was a boxer in a past life.” Thumb tugging his bottom lip.

“Eh well-” you pulled away for Steve to speak, “I haven’t been brushing up my fighting skills.”

You scuffed, “you should cause no offense, but Jonathan whooped your ass last time,” you chuckled a bit at the distant memory.

“Hey, come on!” His hands kneaded at your hips.

The bathroom was filled with your gentle laughs, a moment in time when everything is good. You finished cleaning Steve’s wounds and placing bandaids over them. The trash was filled with dirty cotton balls and the plastic paper from the bandaids. You didn’t step away from Steve’s hold, hands continued to caress his scraped face, thumbs running over the beige coverings. Fingers ran through the sides of his hair, his eyes closing at the scraping of your short nails over his scalp, he looked like he could purr at any moment.

“Our knight is Levi jeans,” you muttered.

The moment broke a minute later, having to pull yourself away from Steve before you allowed yourself to be consumed by him. You shuffled around the space, doing some quick cleaning before you headed to bed, also wanting to distance yourself from Steve. He felt like a magnet to you, something that you couldn’t help but be drawn towards.

“(Y/n)...” the air shifted.

You kept your eyes on the first-aid kit, fingers toying with the bandaids. It wasn’t until Steve’s hand grasped your chin and turned your head to face him you forced yourself to make eye contact, even for a second. His hands changed positions, and his palms cradled your cheeks, holding you as if you were a piece of priceless china in his mother’s cabinet. You saw his eyes glance to your neck, you couldn’t see it, but your throat did feel tight and sore. A dark bruise in the shape of Billy’s hands, something to last for almost a month, a constant reminder.

But you didn’t want Steve to focus on that right now, it was over anyway. With your pointer finger on his chin you tilted his head up, eyes moving away from your scarred throat to now gaze into your piercing eyes. And it was like you almost saw something click in his mind, eyes lighting up.

“(Y/n)...I-” Steve licked his lips, eyes darting over your face, “I- You are…fuck it.”

His hands pulled your face in, lips crashing into each other. It wasn’t anything crazy, just the hard pressing of your lips against the others, maybe one of you waiting to see who would make the next move. Steve took the leap, but would you continue this bliss or pull away before it could go further? You had this split-second choice to make and you made the selfish one.

Arms moving on their own accord, they copied Steve’s position, hands caressing his cheeks with rings and pinkie fingers resting along his jaw. A tilt of your head allows for the kiss to move further, lips moving into a rhyme. It was intoxicating, the feel of Steve’s lips, the strong smell of him mixed with his fading cologne, the strands of hair parting through the fingers that sneaked their way up, the nose that left Steve’s mouth at the firm tug on his hair. He drove you crazy, his tongue snaking into your mouth fully caused your mind to shut down, all your thoughts were of Steve.

‘Steve Steve Steve Ste-’

The abrupt shove of your hands against his shoulders cut the mood. Steve stumbled back with a step or two, your own body moving to the door, needing as much space between your bodies. A hand danced to your lips, tingling with the sensation of Steve, your cheeks aflame with his lingering touch. 

“(Y/n), I’m sorry,” Steve took a step closer, but you put a hand out to stop him, “I thought…I just thought that-” “Steve, I’m gonna say this once, so please don’t talk.”

You waited for a confirmation he understood, a quick nod of his head and you shakily released a breath, “Steve. I have lov-liked you since eighth grade.” You caught yourself before you actually said it.

You paused, wanting to see if he’ll react to this statement. The only visible sign was his eyes widening.

You looked at your twisting hands, not brave for this conversation, “Well, actually I liked you in fifth grade, but I didn’t understand what I was feeling at the time. Not until I noticed kids our age kissing, holding hands, and sharing smiles did I realize. I wanted to do all that with you, I wanted to make you laugh so I could see you smile, and not one of those fake smiles you threw to your friend group or the teachers. The one that pulled your lips wide, laugh lines creasing in ecstasy. And when I was able to do that one time during Mrs. Smith’s English class, I knew for sure.”

You glanced at Steve, he sat on the toilet lid, face in his hands with his elbows digging into his thighs. You wished to walk over to him, but both of you need the space to breathe and think clearly in this situation.

Steve lifted his head, eyes boring into yours. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” His voice was a whisper.

A scuff escaped, “Steve, we weren’t even in the same orbit until last year. And mind you, you and Nancy were dating. I wasn’t going to embarrass myself just so you could reject me.” Arms crossed over your chest.

Steve immediately stood up, “Nancy and I broke up.”

“Yeah, official, like today. I don’t see where you’re getting at.”

A step forward, “I had a crush on you,” another step, “But I never did anything ‘cause I knew my parents would reprimand me if they found out I was hanging out with you and the other kids were being dicks when they noticed I looked your way for too long.”

You just stared, “when I got to high school I tried to get those feelings to go away. I would go out with girls, sleep with them, or dance with them at parties. Anything to get you off my mind, the glimpses of you in the hall, your tired face wanting to fall asleep during one of Mr. Jones’ lectures, or the quick turning of your head before I looked your way. You lived inside my brain for the longest time and I thought it was gonna stay that way forever until Nancy came along.”

“Okay, ouch.”

His hands stretched out, “just- just listen, please.” You stayed quiet.

“Nancy and I had this thing going for a while after she started to tutor me. Notes in lockers, meetups from prying eyes, sly looks, and comments in the halls. She was the first girl who started to pull my attention away from you, and fuck, it made me a bit happy.”

That quick exhale stabbed your heart, but you tried to show no reaction, you probably failed.

“When I saw you in the halls, my heart didn’t race as much, my gaze wouldn’t stray your way as often. I thought I was finally moving on, leaving my childhood crush behind and going for a girl who was within reach and reciprocating the feelings I was showing, but then Will disappeared. When Will disappeared you reappeared in my mind, and the dull thudding of my heart sped up when you were around, my eyes wandered to you if you were in the same room. But I was still happy with Nancy, I liked being with Nancy.”

He got closer during his ramble, the wide gap was now only a few steps separating the both of you.

“Steve…”

“But as the year went on, she was distancing herself. Got lost in her head, upset when I suggested being dumb teenagers for Halloween night. And Halloween, that night in itself is a mess.”

“Steve, please, just stop.”

He got closer, “(Y/n) I’m trying to tell you I’ve always had feelings for you, it’s just now that I’m acting on them.”

“Steve, you're being mean. Stop it.” “What?” “Stop it.”

The sting in your eyes alerted you of the incoming tears, “Steve, I’ve been seen as some type of freak almost my whole life, by some of the town folk, fellow students, and my dad. I knew I could never have you and it hurt every time I reminded myself, but I accepted it. But you telling me that Nancy, Nancy Wheeler, one of the most perfect girls in this town, helped you move on from me, it’s the worst pain imaginable. I didn’t want to know that, I’m already criticizing myself against Nancy in my mind. You’re making me feel like a replacement for her.” “But I do want you, I’ve always wanted you.” He pleaded, hands reaching for your hands.

“Steve-” you let him take your hands, hoping they’ll help him understand the words coming from your mouth, “Steve, I want to be with you, I’ve been dreaming, waiting for this moment. But if you’re choosing to finally do this just ‘cause you’re free from Nancy, I don’t want it.” You slipped your hands-free.

“I know you’re still in love with Nancy, who wouldn’t be, she’s the girl next door. And I heard you the day after Halloween, I heard you begging her to say it back. Just cause you officially broke up today doesn’t mean shit. The both of you need proper closure, she left with Jonathan for two days and comes back close with him. And we’ve been crossing lines as well, and I hold myself accountable for some of it. But what I’m trying to say is,” hands grasping his cheeks to hold his attention, “I will not be your second choice.”

“But you’ve always been my first,” his hands circled your wrist.

“Not in my eyes.” You slipped free, “When you have your shit together, Steve, we’ll see.”

You rushed out of the bathroom when the final word slipped from your lips, not wanting Steve to see you crying over him.

…

November was once again, shitty. Well, it was peaceful with the Upside Down sealed off for good, but it was personally shitty for you.

Work felt suffocating, knowing Bob won’t be coming anytime soon. The lab faked Bob’s death, some bullshit about a car accident just outside the city limits. It made your blood boil, you wanted to scream and point your finger directly at them, yell at the top of your lungs and tell all of Hawkins, “Bob died because of this stupid fucking lab! He saved my family and friends from being eaten alive! He didn’t die in some fucking accident!” But you couldn't, no one outside your circle would believe you and you knew the lab could make you disappear one day, gone off the face of the earth.

There was a small funeral for him, not many people showed up, and you were a bit disappointed at the turnout. You and Joyce were at the front, both of you stone-faced and flushed from the cold wind biting your cheeks and noses. Jonathan didn’t join and neither did Will. You understood with Will, he was still recovering from the scare Nancy gave him to push the mind flayer out of him, but Jonathan…you were just peeved at his absence. Hopper was there, giving comfort to the both of you, squeezing your shoulders or pulling you into hugs when your body shook with tears.

You hated funerals.

…

You couldn’t wait for Thanksgiving break.

School days felt like they lasted a decade, moving too slowly for your liking. You kept your head down in the halls and during class, not wanting to meet Steve’s eyes or even Nancy’s. Running the other way if you saw even a glimpse of Billy or his ratty hair walking through the halls. He knew you could handle yourself, but you didn’t want to be around him either way, wanting to be as distant as humanly possible.

Eddie and Robin were worried about you, your behavior was a bit more abnormal than usual, but you couldn’t tell them everything so you picked certain details, including…

“Steve told you what?!”

You flinched at the loud cries of Robin and Eddie, both of them sharing baffled expressions. You peeked around the library, catching the turning of heads at the noise, and cringing inward at the look Mrs. Gray was throwing at you. Eddie and Robin didn’t seem to care that they broke the one rule of the library, too busy exchanging looks with each other.

“Can you please not draw attention our way?” You pleaded.

Robin shook her head with her hands hovering in front of her, “whatever. Steve told you-” “That he’s always liked you?” Eddie cut her off, a furrow on his brow.

Just a shrug was your reply. You changed the story a bit when you recounted your weekend.

“Steve came to my house Saturday night, bruised to hell, telling me he wanted to talk. So I let him in and helped clean his face since it seemed he wasn’t in a rush to see a doctor, insistent on whatever he had to tell me. As I cleaned his cuts, I got closer, standing between his legs and holding his face and in turn, he held my hips and squeezed when the pain hit.”

“Hot,” Eddie voiced, all you gave was a deadpan glare.

“Anyway, when I was done, we just stood there. Barely space between us, hands touching each other and just gazing into the other's eyes, and then…it happened. Steve pulled me forward and we kissed, and it lasted for maybe two minutes before I pushed him away.”

“Why? Aren’t you happy he kissed you?” Robin interrogated.

“I’m getting to that.” You just wanted to get this over with, “He started on this ramble, well, actually I told him I liked him, but then he went on his ramble. How he liked me in middle school as well, but he held back because of his parents and the kids making fun of him. Said he started hooking up with girls just to get me off his mind, and then he said Nancy was the first girl to get me off his mind.” A crack broke the sentence.

“Oh, (Y/n),” Robin rubbed a hand along your upper arm.

“Uh, and then it just got a bit messy with our conversation from there, but that’s pretty much the gist of it. But at the end he said…”

You haven’t spoken to Steve for about two weeks now. Anytime you saw him in the halls, either walking your way or you leaning against the lockers near yours, you would turn on your heel and run the other way. If you were in his presence for even a second, you would break. You so badly wanted to hear him out, finally get the boy you’ve always dreamed about, but you needed more time. You told him to get his shit together and get closure between him and Nancy before he made a proper decision, but honestly, you need to talk with Nancy as well. Seeing her with Jonathan, the two being happy, it messed with you a bit.

“I hate people in love,”  you grumbled.

“Me too,” Robin and Eddie spoke, voices intertwining

…

“What are you doing here?”

“Here to talk with Nancy, dingbat.”

You ignored the eye roll from Mike and made your way to Nancy’s room, stopping to say hello to Mrs. Wheeler and Holly. You were nervous but knew this was closure you also needed. Needed to hear the words directly from Nancy’s mouth, and see the sincerity on her face, it would make you feel better about the idea of being with Steve.

With gentle knuckles knocking on her door, you heard her faint voice call for you. You peeked your head in before stepping all the way in and closing the door behind you, slow steps towards her bed. You haven’t been up here since last year, after the woods incident, and you felt a bit uneasy.

Nancy looked up from the homework that was spread around her, tangled curls pinned back by clips and her shining face was on full display. The pang was back in your heart, “She was the first girl who started to pull my attention away from you, and fuck, it made me a bit happy” the sting hit your eyes and you could feel the clog forming in your throat.

“You okay?” Nancy’s sweet voice stopped the sentence from repeating.

You wrung your hands together, eyes falling to the floor and watching your sneakers toe into the carpet, “uh, not really,” you spoke honestly.

You heard the shuffling of the bed, “what’s wrong?” Then you heard her backtrack a bit, “did- did you have Bob’s funeral yet?”

“Yeah, a week and a half ago.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence, “when’s Barb’s?”

“First Saturday of December.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. You knew you were the one to ask Nancy if you could talk, but you fully want to run back home at this moment.

“(Y/n)...why are you really here?” Her voice was gentle.

You chewed at your bottom lip for a moment, “I…I wanted to talk…about Steve.” You whispered his name like a curse.

“Ah.” That was all she said in response, you snapped your head up.

“Ah? Why ah?”

The smirk toying at her lips nerved you a bit, it suddenly felt like a setup, “Steve wanted to talk a few days ago.”

Your eyes widen, “he did?”

She nodded her head with a closed-lipped smile, you eyed her with curiosity as she patted the space beside her, an invitation to you. The mattress sunk with your added weight, one leg bent in front of you while the other rested on the floor. You and Nancy faced each other, homework and textbooks being the only border.

“Steve likes you, you know that, right?”

A simple nod, “He told me. And I told him I liked him.”

You saw the shrug of her shoulders, “okay, that’s good. But why do both of you seem so mopey?”

You just gave her a look, hoping you didn’t have to say it aloud verbally. You knew she was smart enough to get the reason why both you and Steve wanted to talk with her. You just stared at her a little harder, and you saw the moment it clicked in her mind, a lightbulb going off.

“Oh. Well…what- what do I have-” “Nancy, Steve loved you. He cared for you, and you…” you trailed off, not wanting to accuse Nancy of anything from their relationship.

“I wasn’t very fair in our relationship, I understand that now. And I did like Steve, so much, but I don’t think I ever loved him, or at least not the way he loved me. For a while it was fine, but slowly, I- I just… something changed. And I wanted to get justice for Barb and her parents, Steve wanted to pretend last year didn’t exist and I just couldn’t do that.” You could see the hurt within her eyes, “And when Jonathan was helping me, it felt right. It felt like that missing piece was finally found and completed the picture I was looking for.” A smile.

“Don’t you feel a little… I don’t know, guilty? Or something? You just fled Hawkins, gone for two days then came back, you and Jonathan seemingly closer. Were you and Steve even broken up when you left?” You hated to burst her bubble, but you had to know.

“No, I don’t. Cause I did something to stop the lab, but yes, I do feel a bit guilty about Steve. We got into that fight before I left, I should have at least talked with him or something. But, (Y/n)-” Nancy reached for your hands and held them, “I saw the passing glances, some from you and some from Steve. I saw the wanting in your eyes, the longing for him. And I’m telling you as a friend, Steve is a good guy, he’s grown since last year.”

“I know.” And you do, you’ve seen it first hand, the personal growth Steve’s gone through in the past year.

“So I hope you think about it when I tell you to go for it. When Steve goes to you, hear him out, process his words, and if you want, accept him with open arms and a giant smile. I want to see you happy, you deserve it, both of you.”

…

The Snowball dance didn’t start until eight, so by five is when everyone started to get ready. Will hopped into the shower while Jonathan and Joyce made a quick dinner for everyone since there was only gonna be punch and snacks at the dance. When Will was out of the shower and Jonathan ate half his meal, he took his turn in the bathroom and cleaned up.

Around six-thirty, there was a loud knocking on the front door and you already knew who it was. With sock-covered feet, you shuffled across the wood flooring and opened the door with a welcoming smile.

“You excited?” You questioned the young girl.

She had a beaming smile, cheeks pushing into her eyes. Curly hair waiting to be tamed by water and gel, her dress and shoes in her hands.

“She’s been bouncing ‘round the cabin for the past hour,” Hopper sounded both happy for her and exhausted for himself.

You ushered them in, Hopper heading to the kitchen as you walked Eleven to your room. The both of you passed the boy's rooms, both wearing their pants for the night and a simple tank over their chest. Each gave a wave in greeting to El, her returning the gesture before you pulled her along.

“Okay, just place your dress on the bed and shoes on the floor. I’m gonna do your hair first so we gotta head to the bathroom.”

“Okay.”

She giggled every time water would splash back on her or you, in awe at the change caused to her hair, “I’m going for that slicked-back look you had when you came back.”

“Bitchin’.” It’s her new favorite word to show excitement.

With her new hairstyle, and only an hour until everyone needs to leave, you started on the simple makeup she wanted. You knew Hopper might have a fit if he saw her wearing heavy makeup and also you knew she didn’t need full coverage, just some eyeshadow and blush.

“I’ve always wanted a sister,” you murmured as you swept the light purple shadow over El’s closed lids.

Her eyes opened and they were shining, filled with joy and love. You wanted to wrap her up and keep her away from all the bad in the world, already having been through so much at a young age. But she was safe now, everyone was safe now, no need to worry about the worst anymore.

Eleven reached her smaller hand for your larger one, pinkie wrapping around yours. You were a bit confused but she flashed a smile and said in her quiet voice, “sisters.”

…

Eleven and Hopper left about thirty minutes ago, wanting to have their own time with each other and giving your family private time as well. Hopper hugged you and whispered a thank you into your messy hair, and you dropped a kiss on El’s forehead. You and Joyce sat in the living room waiting for Jonathan and Will, giving the boys their brother time.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Joyce asked for the third time that night.

“Mom, you’re just gonna drop them off then come home. I’m fine with staying behind.” A hand rested on her knee.

It looked like she was preparing to say something, maybe convince you to just go on the short ride, but was stopped and looked over your shoulder. You followed her eye line and saw Jonathan and Will, both dressed nicely and standing awkwardly.

“Well, don’t you both look handsome.” Joyce beamed at her boys.

“Didn’t know you could clean up,” you teased them, Jonathan just rolled his eyes.

Joyce fused with Will’s sweater vest a bit, pinching and lightly tugging. Making sure his tie was neat and straight, fingers toying with his bowl cut.

“Oh! (Y/n), can you get the camera thing, the one that records.”

“It’s called a video camera, mom. It’s right in the name,” you reminded her as you left the living room.

You kept Bob’s video camera that he gave you to use on Halloween. He trusted you with it and it felt wrong to just bring it to the store or give it away, so this small piece of him is kept in your room on your desk. You made sure it was charged and there was a tape then trudged back to the living room, Joyce and Jonathan swaying to an invisible tune. You immediately started to record, wanting to get evidence of this blissful moment between your family. Once Jonathan got tired, Will stepped in, his arms stretched to reach Joyce’s shoulders, which wasn’t far; there were only a few inches between their heights.

Jonathan started to tug the giant camera from your grasp, “what are yo-”

“Go dance with Will. He could use some practice.” And he rested the viewfinder against his right eye.

You just rolled your eyes but stepped up to the dancing pair. With a quick tap to Will’s shoulder, he turned his head towards you. And wanting to add more to this little display, you rested an arm behind your back with the other stretched before you, waist bent at a small angle.

“William Byers, may I have this dance?”

…

It had been about two hours since everyone left for the dance, you staying behind in your fuzzy pajama pants and an oversized hoodie. A Charlie Brown Christmas was playing on the TV, the volume faint as you threw some cookie dough into the oven and heated some hot chocolate on the stove. You were planning to stay up until everyone came home, school dances usually end around ten or eleven.

There was a sudden knocking against the front door just as you shut the stove off. You tensed at the abrupt noise, not expecting anyone to show up, but also worried it might be someone who’s been on your mind for the past week. You tip-toed to the door, wanting to be as quiet as possible to see if there will be another knock or if the person would just leave.

Another round of knocks made you jump a bit and as you trekked closer you heard the person speak, very faint, “(Y/n)! It’s Steve!”

Your eyes widen involuntarily, feet stopping you just behind the door. Your fingers twisted the sleeves of your hoodie into their tight grasp, you were holding back from opening the door. You knew Steve was gonna eventually talk to you again, you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. Maybe another month or two before this confrontation.

“(Y/n), please! I need to talk to you…also, I think I’m getting frostbite.”

Not even a second later you swing the door open, eyes staring him down before ushering him inside the warm home. He was only wearing a red sweater and his Levi’s, ‘he looks so handsome, so cozy’, but you could see the shake of his shoulders, his hands furiously rubbing together as if he was twisting a stick to start a campfire.

“I thought you ran hot, Steve.” You stayed near the door.

He huffed, “I do, but I was out there for five minutes before I knocked.”

You ignored the quick thump of your heart, “why are you here, Steve?”

“You know why.” He took two steps closer.

“Steve…”

“Please,” he reached for your hands, “please, just hear me out. You can throw me out when I’m done, okay? Just…please.” He sounded like a little kid, it broke your heart.

Your fingers squeezed his hand as a physical ‘okay’ before you said the actual word aloud. You pulled Steve with you as you headed back to the kitchen, cookies smelling like they were done and your hot chocolate was slowly cooling already. A turn of the oven knob allowed for the cookies to rest in the dying heat.

“I made some hot chocolate, you want some?” You were stalling.

“Uh, sure, that sounds good.” Steve stood by the small kitchen table.

You had to push up on your toes to reach further into the cupboard, a hand pushed to the counter for extra leverage. As you were getting nowhere and ready to just climb for your mugs, a hand pressed against your lower back, a leg lightly nudging into yours.

“I got it,” his voice was low, and a shiver ran across your body.

You moved out of the way so he could use both hands when he dragged two matching mugs from the back, both covered in a floral print. You made quick work of filling the cups, dropping some marshmallows into yours, none for Steve and topping them with some whipped cream.

“(Y/n)-”

“I heard you drove Dustin to the dance tonight.”

“Yeah- yeah, he’s a… he’s a good kid.” He let a smile peek. You indulged in the sight. 

“Okay, I’m ready.” You sounded like you just told Steve to slap you. And by the look on his face, showed how confused he became.

“What?” “Tell me why you’re here.”

He sat straighter when you clarified the topic change, hand pushing his mug away before twining them together and resting on the table. His fingers rubbed together, specifically his thumbs. His eyes weren’t on you, focused on the table or his hands, anything that wasn’t you it seemed. You understood the need to look away when talking about something like this. He licked his lips and then spoke, just one sentence.

“I like you.”

You wanted to state the obvious, ‘you already told me’ but you settled with a simple, “I- I like you too.” Well, not simple to you, but you felt that Steve needed to hear you say it again after this past month.

He instantly lifted his head, puppy dog eyes pulling you in along with the dazzled smile showing off his dimples. The urge to lunge forward and pull him into your arms grew in strength, so you sipped your drink, eyes away from Steve.

“I know the last time we talked wasn't great. Well, it was great for about two minutes before it went to hell.”

“Steve…” You did also enjoy those two minutes.

“And for good reason, I fully know that. So, I’ve been getting my shit together, your words. I’ve talked with Nancy and told her how I felt about our relationship and how she hurt me as well as how I hurt her. I even talked with Jonathan.”

You raised your brows at that, he didn’t mention anything to you about Steve. Tomorrow you’ll have to question him about it. You nodded for Steve to continue, choosing to leave your input until he was done talking.

“I told him I liked you, wanted to be in a relationship with you. He was against it, completely understanding him, but I made sure to tell him how much you meant to me. I wasn’t- I’m not trying to use you as a rebound or replacement for Nancy.” He moved to the seat beside you, hands reaching for you across the table, but you didn’t take them, not yet.

“Nancy and I had a good time in our relationship, it might’ve been short-lived, but it was nice. She helped me mature and leave King Steve behind, realizing I could be more than a high school douchebag. And when you slowly became a part of my life, I wanted to be the best version of myself. You deserve the best, (Y/n), and I showed you my affections at a low point.” You had to interrupt him, “Steve, just from the past year alone, I’ve seen you grow so much. And every day, I so badly wanted to tell you how much I liked you, wishing I could be with you. But I would see you smiling with Nancy, the two of you whispering in each other's ears, giggling at whatever. Your arm draped over her shoulder, her hand holding yours. It killed me, piece by piece, every time I saw the two of you together. I wanted to walk into the shadows and disappear. But the two of you were my friends, so I stuck it out, and sometimes when it was too much I would cry. And I hated that I was crying over you, I should never cry over a stupid boy.”

“Ouch,” you sent a glare, “sorry, continue.”

“But I wasn’t just crying over you, I was crying cause of the way you looked at Nancy when she wasn’t paying attention, the way you were constantly touching her in some way, the smiles she pulled from you. I was crying 'cause I knew I could never be Nancy Wheeler.”

You were getting a bit choked up, telling Steve these personal things that no one else has heard, only the loud voices screaming in your mind. The voices telling you no one wants you, the yells of your dad screaming at you as a child, spitting in your face about how worthless you are. The snarky comments heard from the hall and during class from students who gossip because they want to make others feel bad to uplift their self-esteem.

“Hey, hey,” Steve’s warm hands cupped your cheeks, fingers cradling your jaw.

He moved his chair closer, knees almost touching, “I don’t want you to be Nancy, I like you 'cause you’re (Y/n) Byers. I like how tough you are, how you stick up for your family and don’t take shit from people.” His fingers swiped along your cheeks, “I love how you treat those kids as if they were your own family, how smart you are whether it’s school smart or comic smart, even if I don’t get half the references you make.” A wet chuckle slipped through, “you are the most beautiful girl I’ve had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.”

“I bet you say that to every girl,” you teased, but he didn’t exactly deny it, only countered with, “but I mean it, every syllable.”

You moved your hands off your lap to circle his wrist, not wanting him to move away. Thumbs rubbing against skin, yours against his wrist and his along your cheeks, wiping any fallen tears. The air felt thick, a tension growing, waiting for the time to come before it snapped. Both of you aired things out, not everything, but it at least helped both of you see where the other was coming from. But you knew that if you were to get in a relationship, there was gonna be more talks like this in the future, and that was something you were okay with.

“I really like you, and I want to show you the love you deserve every single day that we’re together. I want to see the good and the ugly, the beautiful and monstrous sides of you, and I’ll show you mine. I want to kiss your face at every chance I get, I want to wake up next to you when we spend the night together. I want all of you, (Y/n) Byers.”

Your lips were twitching at the corners the whole time Steve was talking, letting each word seep into your skin and brain, wanting to remember this moment. The crease between his brows to the intense look that’s peering into your heart, the feeling of his palm, how the pads of his fingers rub against your skin and peach fuzz. Counting every freckle dotting his face and neck, holding back from kissing every single one in your line of sight. How he’s rubbing his pink lips together, tongue darting out and wetting them like he’s preparing for a kiss.

“Steve,” your hands left his wrist and held his jaw, pulling him in closer to you, “I just wanna be yours. And I want you to be mine.”

You saw the smile, “I’ve been yours since you pushed Sharon Halloway, baby.”

You crushed your lips together, not wanting to wait for another second. It was just a pressing of your lips, finally satisfying the craving you’ve been having for weeks. When Steve tilted his head, it allowed for the kiss to become more, what started as a ruff push became a slow dance between waiting lovers. Your lips getting used to the feeling of each other, learning a new dance that will become muscle memory in due time, tongues toying together. Hands holding the others face close, tight, scared they might vanish into thin air, a dream so realistic that the very scent of Steve’s cologne will linger. Fingers move to thick strands of hair, nails scraping at the scalp pulling a purr from Steve’s throat that you happily drink up.

When you started to feel dizzy, your head going fuzzy, you pulled again. You stayed close, noses touching, breathing mingling, eyelashes kissing. When you leaned further back, wanting to fully take in Steve, he chased you, lips seeking for more, needing more.

“Baby,” the word made your stomach flip.

“Oh, I’m baby now.” You squealed when Steve wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his lap, both of you sharing one chair.

He nuzzled his face into your neck, sloppy kisses lining from where your ear meets your jaw to the edge of your hoodie. With just a tilt you gave him all the access he wanted, hands happily playing in his hair, giving light tugs, ones you’ve been dreaming of.

“Stevie,” you all but sighed, his kisses leaving you even dizzier.

“Oh, I’m Stevie now,” he pulled away to tilt his chin up at you.

A hand tucked some hair behind his ear, the ends curling in, “you can call me all the pet names you want, and I’ll call you Stevie all I want.”

“Might need to negotiate that one.” His eyes squinted.

“Steven.”

“Nope, Stevie is fine. Love Stevie, especially from you.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before going in for seconds, thirds, and fourths. Steve Harrington was finally yours, and you can kiss him freely until the day you die. Now that’s not a bad way to go out.

You were so wrapped up in kissing Steve you didn’t check the time, or even hear the car pulling up outside, not even the front door opening. None of that registered in your lavender-hazed brain, not until a very loud voice caused you to jump away from Steve.

“Mom! (Y/n)’s making out with Steve!”

Will faced you and Steve, both of you flushed and lips kiss bitten. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“I need to bleach my eyes.” Will groaned.

----------------------------

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*striked out means tumblr can’t find your username, sorry*

[snailsdraw]

[Start ID:

3 doodles of HLVRAI characters celebrating the holidays.

Gordon Freeman and his son, Joshua, smiling down at a christmas tree star they've scribbled the word "SHERIFF" on with a sharpie marker. Joshua is wearing a cowboy hat headband with reindeer ears and nose taped on.

Bubby, who wears a kippah, giving gelt to Joshua, who holds up a chocolate coin in awe. Benrey, upon seeing this, goes "brooo, sweet" and attempts to grab a few coins before he is kept at a distance by Bubby's hand and is told a stern "These are for my grandson ONLY".

The aftermath of not having gotten any coins, with Benrey tugging his chullo low over his eyes and looking very upset. Tommy comforts him, saying "Don't- don't worry, Benrey. We can have- we can work out something similar when Chinese New Year comes around. It's coming earl- early next year too!"

End ID.]

Obligatory holiday drawing. Happy whichever holiday you celebrate, be it Hanukkah, Christmas, something else, or neither! (hope I got the gelt-giving right, I didn't have many picture references for that :"l)

Also, my, uh, brain got stuck on HLVRAI. I'll have to post my Moominvalley stuff next time around when I get back to that, sorry yall :(

[jewbeloved]

Christmas Day with the boys + Craig and Tweek🎄🎄🎄🎁🎁🎁🎁🎅🎅

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!🥳🥳🥳

If you don't celebrate it, that's alright then. But also happy Hanukkah (for the people who are Jewish)

Warnings: None, why would there be warnings on a Christmas day? 😂

Gender: Neutral

💚💙 The Main Four ❤️🧡

The second you woke up out of your bed and checked your calendar, you were excited to see that it was Christmas Day.

You ran out of your room after putting on your (favorite color Christmas) outfit. And went to the phone to call your boyfriends letting them know it's Christmas day!

"Guys! It's Christmas day!!"

"Merry Christmas (nickname), we'll be over there in a min :3"

"Merry Christmas (Name), but are you sure we should bring Kahl since he doesn't celebrate Christmas because he's Jewish?"

"Shut the Fuck up fatass!"

*muffles* (It's Christmas day, but I didn't manage to get you a present...I could only afford to get my little sister one...)

"Oh! That's alright Kenny, don't have to get me a present, we can just celebrate Christmas together. You can bring your sister along!"

You hung up the phone and knew that they would be over quickly then just a min.

You used this time wisely and planted all of their gifts under the Christmas tree, while your mom was preparing Christmas treats for you and the boys.

When everything was completely you heard a knock on your door and opened it up to see your 4 lovable boyfriends and Karen standing there with gifts in their hands with a sweet smile on their faces.

"Merry Christmas (Name)!" They all sang at the same time making you flustered.

You allowed them to come inside and went to place their presents for you under the tree. But Karen wanted to hand you your present early.

"It's a thank you gift for always being so nice to me and my big brother Kenny, it really means a lot to both of us.." You pulled Karen into a hug and she hugged back.

Bro Kenny wanted to cry at this adorable moment between you and his sister. 🥹

"Don't worry about me, I already talked to my parents and they allowed me to come over and celebrate Christmas with you ONLY even though I'm jewish"

"Hehe alright then, let's get this party started then!"

Bro, you're so damn lucky you get to spend the great holiday with the boys. They have spent Christmas a lot of times by themselves or with their family. But this time they wanna spend it all day long with you.

Gathering around the Christmas tree and singing the Holiday song like it's a ritual, but Kyle just listened to all of you singing it though. You don't mind that because it is understandable and obvious.

Eating the snacks that your mom has made, they immediately all want another! The snacks tasted so good! By the time you finished yours the other ones are already gone 🥲

And finally, opening presents. Your place is going to be kinda a mess with all of the present wrappers around the floor. But everyone cleans it up after tearing off the paper.

All of the presents the boys and Karen gave you each contained (the item that you always wanted) inside of the box, and you got them theirs and they were really grateful to you for that.

And last but not least, the sleepover and watching a Christmas movie. You put on your (favorite movie) on the TV and everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and joined you on watching the movie.

It took them a few hours to sleep because they wanted to stay up and watch it longer with you.

You obviously cuddled with the boys on your bed, because there's not a lot of room on the couch. Kenny had one arm wrapped around Karen while the other was wrapped around you in the cuddle pile.

When it was time for them to go home, you got a goodbye kiss from each and every one of them. You gave Karen a kiss on the forehead and a hug before she left as well.

Best Christmas and Hanukkah day ever❤️🧡💙💚

💙 Craig and Tweek 💛

Spending Christmas with these 2 sweethearts is clearly heaven for you😭😭🥹

You made sure everything on your schedule was cleared so you wouldn't have any plans going on at the moment, this is a special day for you and your boyfriends.

This time you went a little overboard with prepping everything for this holiday, you literally had a bouncy house in your backyard 😳

The time Craig and Tweek arrived at your house, was the time for Christmas to start. No questions.

You did notice that Tweek didn't seem to be anxious at the moment, but you didn't question him about that. He didn't want to be anxious on Christmas since it was with you.

Craig having his usual everyday expression, but you know deep down that he has a big smile on his face ready to start celebrating Christmas with you.

All 3 of you guys wore matching Christmas couple outfits for the time being.

Eating snacks. Eating snacks with them was normal as eating any other kinds of food. They didn't make a mess, they didn't ask for another, and they happily cleaned up their mess if they did.

Christmas games. Bro they didn't expect you to have games laying around, you really went overboard with prepping everything 😂😊🥹 they still enjoyed playing the games with you though, and they ABSOLUTELY loved playing inside the bouncy house! They stayed in there for like 3 hours 🤯🤯🤯

Opening presents. They got you a bunch of gifts tbh 😳 you obviously got them a bunch back in return. Opening presents this time isn't messy since you guys were opening them over a wrapper bin.

Cuddling sessions. You're literally stuck in their embrace for a longggggg time. They ain't letting you go anytime soon, you're their little/big sweet teddy bear (Depending on your height)

Sleep time. They're also staying over for the night to sleep with you until Christmas is over. Enjoy this time sleeping with them specially.😊😊🥹🥹

Same as the boys, you also get goodbye kisses and hugs from Craig and Tweek. But this time they promised to come back later.💛💛💙💙

I was listening to this music while writing this- also Merry Christmas again to everyone!!!

[heartgirl2020]

Happy Holidays!

“Merry Christmas, Penny!”

“Alberto! What in the name of the Derpy Onion are you doing? And how long have you been sitting like that?”

“Well, you did say I was one of the greatest gifts you got this year… but on second thought, I’m starting to think a necklace would’ve been easier and not so uncomfortable. Could you please help me out of this?”

***

You know, I don’t think I would’ve ever thought to wrap myself as a Christmas present to someone, but from the looks of it, I think I’ll stick to drawings and gift cards. 😅 Alberto managed to pull it off pretty well, though, so I guess you could call that dedication.

If I’m gonna be honest, I’m still baffled that we’re already celebrating Christmas and wrapping up 2023. Time really does fly when you’re having fun. Through all the hardships and wonders of this year, though, I’d say that my Papa Louie hyperfixation was the best thing to happen to me this year. I made new friends who also like the franchise, found new artists and art pieces that I adore, was able to finally enjoy the game that one of my favorite YouTubers, Poofesure, was becoming well-known for, and, best of all, got out of art block because of all the art ideas the game’s lore had to offer. That’s why I chose one of its ships to be my final piece of the year (unless I’m not too distracted by my new Lego sets); of all the fandoms I’ve gotten into this year, this one’s had such a significant impact on my journey as an artist.

I should also mention that this is my very first piece of Penny x Alberto content because it’s not just Quinn x Timm that I love to pieces. So, for those who ship Penny x Alberto content, I hope you enjoy seeing this as much as I did working on it.

With that said, Merry Christmas, Happy belated Hanukkah, Happy early Kwanzaa, and Happy, well, whatever other holiday I didn’t mention here. I wish you all a Happy Holidays!

[numinousmysteries]

B'Sha'ah Tovah

@eightnightsofmulder

@today-in-fic

Eight Nights of Mulder Day Eight: Light

[on Ao3]

Note: I had so much fun participating in this challenge and reading everyone else's wonderful work. Thank you @welsharcher, @agent-troi, and @randomfoggytiger for organizing!

December 2000

The crowds in the Hoover building thin out as the holidays approach. Hanukkah starts tomorrow and Christmas is next week, but for Scully time stopped months ago when Mulder disappeared in the woods of Oregon. 

The life growing within her is the only bittersweet reminder that the days march on. It doesn’t feel right for anything to flourish while she’s enveloped in darkness.

She wants it all to pause until Mulder returns. But life perseveres. Her hair grows faster and thicker, her heart beats harder as it works to pump more blood through her body, and her belly is starting to protrude. Her stubborn, miraculous baby keeps growing and making its presence known against all odds. Just like its father.

He’s missed so much already. She’s nearly halfway through her pregnancy and it doesn’t make sense that Mulder isn’t here to experience it alongside her. As an investigator, she knows the more time goes by, the less likely it is he’ll be found alive. But as his partner, his best friend, and his lover, she also knows the widely accepted figures and statistics do not apply to Fox Mulder.

She spends more and more time in the office. Only here does she feel like she’s upholding her unspoken promises—to never stop looking for him and to never give up on his work. The more time passes since his abduction, though, the more it feels like she’s spinning her wheels. She’s in constant contact with the Lone Gunmen but they’ve all but admitted the chatter on abductees in rural Oregon has dried up. There have been no reports of a man who fits his description wandering into a hospital or turning up at a morgue in months.

So she crisscrosses the country with her new partner hunting down humanoid bats and parasitic slugs, telling herself it’s what Mulder would have wanted. Ironically, if he were here, he’d tell her to go home, to rest, to take care of the baby and herself, but he isn’t here. 

Now that it’s winter, she comes in before sunrise and stays long after sunset. Surrounded by his yellowing news clippings, file cabinets of notes written in his indecipherable (to all but her) scrawl, and array of trinkets and memorabilia, this is where she feels closest to him. Holed up in the basement, she lives in darkness.

Doggett is out for the week and she cherishes the time she can spend in the office on her own. He’s been a good partner, but sharing this space with anyone else but Mulder feels like a betrayal. Even Skinner left early for the day. He came down to the basement to tell her he’d be out until late next week and wished her a happy holiday. He does things like that now–checks in on her. She just nodded, gave him a tight-lipped smile, and wished him well. 

She declined her mother’s invitation to join her at Bill’s in San Diego for Christmas this year, and when Maggie offered to stay back in DC with her, she begged her not to. If she can’t be with him, she only wants to be alone. 

It’s getting late, even for her, but she isn’t ready to go home. Her apartment is too quiet and empty.

To bide the time before she can sleep, she walks around the downtown shopping district. She likes the anonymity it provides. Here, she can be just another woman doing last-minute Christmas shopping. 

There’s an upscale baby and children’s clothes boutique that she often walks past but doesn’t dare go inside. It’s full of beautiful but expensive and impractical items like dry-clean only cashmere sweaters that will inevitably be covered in spit up, drool, and mashed up food. There’s nothing she would ever buy but she knows Mulder wouldn’t be able to resist the impossibly small pieces. She imagines rolling her eyes, but smiling, as he drapes tiny onesies over her belly and insists on spending hundreds of dollars on clothing their baby will outgrow in a matter of months.

She hasn’t bought anything useful or necessary for the baby, either. It wouldn’t be right to do it without him. Her mother keeps asking if she wants help cleaning out her second bedroom for the nursery, but she still imagines that there will be time to do it with Mulder once he’s back. “Once,” she repeats to herself. Never “if.”

Down the block from the children’s shop is a small Judaica store she hadn’t noticed before. A warm glow of light emanates from inside and she’s drawn to pull the door open. 

She’s the only customer inside. The store is full of merchandise—intricately carved mezuzahs, Kiddush cups, servingware, and a wall of books in Hebrew and English—but it feels cozy, not crowded.

An older woman with wiry gray hair and black-frame glasses stands at the register near a glass case of jewelry. “Let me know if you need help with anything,” she says as Scully surveys the shelves. 

She finds a small selection of menorahs and examines them one by one. There’s one made from shiny silver with inlaid blue stones, and another angular, more modern style. Then her eyes land on a small brass menorah. It’s tarnished in spots but still catches the light. Tiny olive leaves are sculpted along the branches.

“We’re a little picked over,” the woman calls over to her. “Last minute and all, you know?”

Scully smiles and nods at her. “This one is beautiful,” she says, picking up the brass menorah. It feels solid, heavier than she expected. 

“It is, right? I found it at an estate sale. I wish I knew more about it but I can tell it’s old, possibly from the mid-1800s, and it’s similar to ones I’ve seen from the Netherlands.” 

“I’ll take it,” Scully says. She’s never known Mulder to own a menorah, but it feels like something she needs to do to honor him.

At the register, the woman carefully wraps the menorah in tissue paper before placing it in a shopping bag.

“I’ll throw in some candles for you, too,” she says. “Happy Hanukkah.” “Thank you.”

“And, I don’t mean to assume,” the woman says, her eyes dropping to toward Scully’s belly, “but b'sha'ah tovah.”

“Excuse me?”

“May your baby be born at a favorable time,” she says. “It’s a traditional Jewish blessing. We tend to be a little superstitious around pregnancy so we don’t say mazel tov until after the baby is born.” 

“I appreciate that, thank you,” Scully says, bringing her hand to her stomach.

The shopkeeper’s words echo in her mind on the drive home. It feels like the only appropriate thing anyone has said to her about her pregnancy. She’s given hollow smiles and nods to ultrasound technicians who’ve congratulated her and asked how happy she was to be having a baby. Her mother has been a little more sensitive, but Maggie still insists on trying to cheer her up and look on the bright side even though her blessing is tinged with darkness. But: b’sha’ah tovah, at a favorable time. It gives her comfort—the hope that the right time will come, that Mulder will return to her and their child. 

Back at her apartment, she gently unwraps the menorah and sets it in the center of her kitchen table. Looking closely at it, she sees there’s even more detail to each individual olive leaf, lines and shading etched into the brass, than she noticed in the store. 

The next night, she comes straight home from work and digs a box of matches from her kitchen drawer to light the menorah. She and Mulder once celebrated an improvised Hanukkah with battery-powered candles in an airport bar, so she knows to light the center candle, the shamash, first. Then she places a candle in the far right branch and uses the shamash to light that one, too. 

She grins at the improbability of it all: Dana Katherine Scully, star Sunday school pupil and lapsed Catholic, lighting a menorah. She doesn’t know the Hebrew prayer that Mulder recited to her once so she silently says her own. She prays for her baby and for Mulder, prays they’ll be together again soon. 

More than two millennia ago, a group of Jews kept a menorah, just like this one, lit for eight nights through the power of their beliefs alone. Like the Maccabees, she’s exhausted nearly all of her resources. To the FBI, Mulder’s disappearance is essentially a cold case with no leads left to track. There’s no evidence for her to analyze or put under a microscope hoping it will guide her to him. All she has left to go on is faith. 

The warm glow of the candles reflecting on the brass cuts through the darkness surrounding her. She feels the tiniest flutter within her and it nearly takes her breath away. She brings a palm to her belly and feels it again. Life perseveres. 

“Happy Hanukkah, little one,” she whispers. “Next year we’ll light the candles with your dad. I promise.” 

[purple-compromise]

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, MY FRIENDS!

Thank you all so very, very much for an incredible year! Please accept this Interlude as my gift to you: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743155/chapters/132701053

I wish a late Happy Hanukkah and early Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and a magnificent New Year!

[readyforthegarden]

Merry Christmas Darling - J.T.K.

Synopsis: A classic, family-filled Christmas with the Kiszkas and Wagners. Good food, strong drinks, and tons of holiday cheer, kisses and snuggles and a special heartfelt gift.

WC: 2616

Warnings: Slight inference to dirty talk, but it's a brief moment! Just more holiday fluff with our favorite guitarist!

A/N: This was my favorite holiday fic to write, so I saved it for last. I hope you all have enjoyed our little festive times together and I wish all my friends and followers a Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah! Another special thank you to @lunaindigoraven for always being a sounding board for the ideas and just being the best bestie in general ilysm!!!!! 💖💖💖 Happy Holiday’s yall!

Taglist

Josh’s Holiday Fic // Sam’s Holiday Fic // Danny’s Holiday Fic

🎄🎄🎄

"Can I please come in?" Jake whined from outside the bedroom door. He'd been antsy all day, knowing that you were wrapping presents and his was included in the pile. You took a sip of wine from your glass as your cheesy holiday romance movie played on your laptop at the foot of the bed, raising an eyebrow at the door. "Come on, I really need to grab something!"

"Like what?" you slid off the edge of the bed, making sure to cover the unwrapped presents with a throw blanket before opening the bedroom door just enough to see his face. He hesitated, and you could tell by his blank stare he was trying to think of an object he desperately needed from the bedroom.

"Uh....um..." Jake stammered, floundering in front of you. You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

"Your spare guitar strings are down in the studio, your charger is where you left it last night, plugged in by the recliner, and you don't even use a hairbrush so don't even ask for one." you watched his mouth fall open, and you reached out and gently tapped his chin upwards to close it for him.

"That's rude." he mumbled.

"You're not seeing your gifts until everyone is here and opening presents. Together." you shot him a look. Jake smirked.

"Oh, so there's more than one?" you sighed irritatedly and reached your arm out, shoving him lightly and away from the door as he tried to peek over your shoulders.

"You'll never find out if you keep being naughty." you chided. Jake's smirk grew even wider as he closed the space between you.

"I don't mind missing out on presents if we're talking about being naughty, darlin'." Jake's warm breath cascaded over your lips as his arms wound around your waist.

"Mm, but I think Santa has a really, really nice gift for me this year, I'd hate to do anything so close to Christmas that he won't come." you pouted, twisting a small lock of his hair around your index finger.

"Oh Santa's gonna come alright." Jake's voice was low and you laughed, pulling yourself from his arms and nudging him back in the hallway.

"Not if his little helper doesn't leave me alone!" and with that you closed the bedroom door, leaving him pouting on the other side. After a few moments, you heard him mutter as he walked away.

"'m not little." you giggled to yourself as he shuffled away, dragging his feet on the carpeting of the hallway floors while he retreated. When you were absolutely sure he was gone, you moved the throw blanket from the pile and dig through gently, finding the small bag with Jake’s present inside. It was something you’d found by chance one day during the summer, scouring an old bookstore on a girls trip to the east coast. You reached into the bag and gingerly lifted the old book from it, your hand running over the weathered cover with a soft smile.

It wasn’t quite a first edition by any means, but it was an early 1900s edition of the novel Treasure Island. Everyone knew Jake had a fascination with pirates. One of your first date nights, well, weekends, was marathoning all of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. You thought it was cute, and even enjoyed when he’d slip into a rough, pirate voice every so often when tipsy. You hadn’t planned on his gift being pirate themed. In fact you were honestly puzzled on what to possibly get a man who has traveled the world over again. But when you came across this novel, your heart leapt into your throat and his name fell from your lips as you reached for it on the shelf. It was meant to be his.

You gently wrapped a few protective layers of tissue paper around it before wrapping it in festive paper, taking your time to make sure the creases and folds were perfect and tidy. You wrote his name on the tag and tied it to the velvet red ribbon you encased the gift in, smiling at your handiwork. Now that his gift was taken care of, you set to work finishing the rest of the families gifts, making sure to put just as much love and care into wrapping theirs as you did Jake’s. You didn't realize how much time had passed as you were busy making holiday magic, but the smell of garlic and onion wafted up the stairs into the bedroom and surrounded you, making your mouth water. You piled the wrapped gifts into the laundry basket next to the bed and lifted it onto your hip, excitedly opening up the door and bounding down the stairs. Your dropped the basket in the living room next to the large, ornate Christmas tree before skidding into the kitchen, where Jake was working away at the stove and counter.

"Something smells so good!" you praised as you came up behind him, peeking over his shoulder as he gently bubbling butter in a pan. "Onions?"

"Shallots, love, please." Jake chuckled, feigning offense. "We're not animals." you giggled under your breath, pressing a kiss to his cheek and looking at the puff pastry lining a baking sheet in a triangle. “Gonna make it look like a Christmas tree, and cut the sides and twist it.”

“That’ll be really cute!” you hopped up onto the counter. "Need any help?" Jake glanced over to you as you gently kicked your feet agains the cupboard beneath you.

"Mm, just your company is all I need for now." he smiled softly before adding spinach and cream cheese to the mixture on a lower heat, stirring in small bits of artichoke hearts and letting it all meld and cook together. "I'm excited for everyone to get here."

"Me too!" you grinned. "Last year with my family was fun, but I won't lie, I really missed your family party." Jake grinned wider at your admission.

"Your family was fun, too...but everyone was in bed by ten-thirty." he grimaced. You bit your lip nodded in slight shame.

"Everyone is older." you shrugged. "I'm the oopsie-baby, they didn't plan on having me near their forties."

"Hey, you're the best oops to ever have happened." Jake gave you a pointed look. He knew sometimes you felt insecure and sensitive about how old your family was compared to his, and that your parents, while making well-meaning jokes, reminded you that you were never planned. Jake shut off the burner and moved the pan to a cool one before coming and standing between your legs, resting his hands on your thighs. "You're the best thing to ever happen in my life."

"Not the band and the fame and money and screaming fans?" you joked, toying with the cord strand of his necklace as you tried to hide your face and the teasing smile upon it. Jake brushed the stray pieces of hair back from your cheeks and held your face gently, making you hold eye contact with him.

"Not even any of that comes close." he murmured. You felt your heart swell as his deep brown eyes studied your face, a soft smile tugging at the left corner of his lips. “I love you.”

“And I you.” you responded in a whisper, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on his waiting lips. Jake could be a quiet man, but his kiss always expressed to you everything he felt inside, and this was pure love and adoration. You were perfectly happy to sit there, enjoying the affection and adoration shared between the two of you, but unfortunately you were interrupted by the oven beeping that it was done preheating. Jake pulled away from you, giving you a quick peck before moving back to the stove, grabbing the pan and heating the mixture back up a bit, sprinkling his freshly grated parmesan cheese into it too. 

You watched him work, happily taking the small offering of a taste test of the mixture from his index finger and complimenting his work as he washed his hands and started putting together the appetizer. He asked you to start putting together the next one, and you hopped from the countertop, setting to work. 

By the time the doorbell rang, the counter was cleaned off and covered with various appetizers and crudités, ranging from a simple veggie platter to the baked brie with fig jam you’d made. The crisply wrapped presents were piled perfectly beneath the tree and you had your smart speakers playing your carefully curated holiday playlist. You smoothed out your sweater, skidding over to the door, yanking it open excitedly.

“Merry Christmas!!” you cheered, ushering the Kiszka family into your and Jake’s home. You were bombarded with hugs and squeezes, a few cheek pecks here and there. You squatted down to give Rosie, Sam’s dog a few pets, and cooed over her and her sparkly red bow. The Wagner’s were right behind, Danny bounding into the door jut as you started to shut it and scooping you up in a large bear hug as his parents and sister entered behind him.

“Something smells delicious!” Karen said after hugging Jake. His cheeks reddened at the compliment a bit and he nodded towards the kitchen.

“Been slaving away all day in there. Come on, we’ve got a lot of food.” he chuckled, leading the way to the kitchen as you finished hanging coats, Danny and Josh helping you before you all went to join in the chaos of the kitchen. Wine had already been pouring, a glass being handed to you as you passed by. Everyone happily dug in to the appetizers, stories about the ride over to your home, and stories of Christmases past were bubbling up as the alcohol set in. 

Throughout dinner, you all kept playing “Pass the Pea”, a game that originated at your first family holiday party with the Kiszka-Wagner clan. Danny scooped up the largest pea he could find on his fork, and placed it onto the lip of your plate. You scooped it up onto your own fork, and placed it back on his plate, thus beginning the back and forth war between the two of you. At some point Sam got involved, placing an extra pea from his plate on both yours and Danny’s and at that point, it turned into chaos, everyone trying to sneak a pea on someone else’s plate when they weren’t looking. The game ended when Lori ended up with peas in her wine glass, and soon it was time to open presents. 

Piles of different colored wrapping papers littered your living room floor. Ribbons everywhere, and a few stick-on present bows attached to various family members. The game of White Elephant was afoot, and you were adamant about keeping the haphazardly knit pair of mittens Josie had worked so hard on. So far, between a box of tissues that had been emptied and filled with quarters, and mini cheese sampler, it was the best gift from the pile.

“Mmm, I think I want the mittens.” Jake grimaced at you, holding out a roll of toilet paper to exchange. You gasped, clutching the mittens to you chest, resting them next to the Italian gold chain with a single saltwater pearl pendant Jake had adorned you with half an hour earlier, while surprising you with a romantic getaway to Lake Como, included a few winery tours.

“No!” you laughed, holding them away from him. “I love them, they’re from the heart.” Josie’s laugh peeled like bells as you fought Jake over her mittens.

“They’re not that great!” she giggled. 

“If I keep them, you can still have them, darlin’.” Jake whispered to you. Understanding flashed through your eyes and you, still slightly begrudgingly handed him the mittens in exchange for the toilet paper. You turned it over in your hands, feeling the indents from everyone’s fingerprints who’d had the good luck of getting the roll before. The game carried on until all the presents were accounted for, and you finally ended up with Josh’s insanely ornate box, that was filled with throat lozenges, Jake holding tight to the mittens. As the night wore down, you sneakily slid your hand under the tree skirt, pulling out Jake’s present. The fireplace crackled behind you as you turned and presented it to him, and he set his glass of whiskey down on the hearth next to him.

“Ah, I nearly forgot!” he accepted the bundle you gave him, and suddenly you felt like your gift was too small for someone like him.

“I’m sorry it’s nothing huge.” you whispered, watching his hands trace the edges of the paper. Jake shook his head, giving you a smile.

“I don’t need anything huge.” Jake assured you. “I’m sure whatever you got me is perfect.”

“I hope so.” you bit your lip and he grinned at you, opening his present slowly, teasing you almost. As the paper fell away, Jake’s grin widened, and he let his fingers run against the weathered, leathery spine. He gently thumbed through the aged, yellowed pages, before looking at you, thoughtfully.

“Darlin’, this is amazing.” he held the edition of Treasure Island in his hands tightly, grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a kiss. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten. How did you even find this?”

“It was on that girls trip, back in the summer.” you explained. “I just saw it and knew it was yours.” Jake wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly. 

“This is absolutely perfect. Have you ever read it?” you shook your head, admitting you’d only ever seen the Muppet movie version. “We’ll start it tonight, before bed.” you smiled softly up at Jake, excited to share this story with him. Josh had sidled over, asking what he got and Jake excitedly began showing Josh the old novel. 

Soon, your guests had found themselves in their rooms or sleeping arrangements. Jake and yourself, with the help of his parents, cleaned up the kitchen, putting away the remnants of the various desserts and scraps from dinner, and prepared tomorrow’s sweet breakfast pastries. Within an hour, you’d found yourself cuddled up in your bed, Jake sitting up beside you as you rested your head on his shoulder, listening to his soft, low voice as he read out to you. 

“For thirty years,” he said, "I've sailed the seas and seen good and bad, better and worse, fair weather and foul, provisions running out, knives going, and what not. Well, now I tell you, I never seen good come o' goodness yet. Him as strikes first is my fancy; dead men don't bite; them's my views—amen, so be it.’” after a few more lines, the chapter ended, and he placed a thin ribbon from his present into the pages to save his place. He placed it gently on his nightstand before looking down at you. “You look sleepy.”

“I am sleepy.” you replied. “It’s been a long day. Fun, but long.” Jake smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“It’s been a perfect day.” Jake adjusted his position, sliding down so you both were laying down and you snuggled into his chest. You felt your eyes start to feel heavy,  the events of the day hitting you all at once, including the many glasses of wine.

“Merry Christmas, Jakey.” you murmured into his chest. 

“Merry Christmas, darling.” he whispered back, and with those few words, the two of you were out, fast asleep and regaining your strength to do it all again with extended family tomorrow.

Taglist: @lunaindigoraven @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvf @gretavanfleetposts @gardenofgreta @streamsofstardust @joshkiszkas @jakewhorecore / @tlexx @fictional-duchess @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @josiee-gvf @ascendingtostardust @joshkiszkatoothgap @andeejoness @gardensgatedaisy @kkdarling @demonrat444 @teddiie @writingcold

[cassiartblog]

Moon Boys X fem! Reader Chrismas special

Characters: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley

Warnings: just fluff, not proof read

About 900 words per character

Christmas was a very special holiday to you. Of course, it was difficult with three men in one body. But you always did the best. The three body changes a lot, because everyone wanted to spend time with you. But there were always arguments between the moon boys. So you had an idea. You made three Christmas holidays. Everyone could have a whole day with you. You said there were countries where they celebrate Christmas from the 24th December to the 26th December. The boys thought of it. It wasn't what they know like but they liked the idea of ​​having a whole day with you alone without the others.

Steven Grant

The first day was for Steven. Jake wasn't that happy to not have you on the first holiday but he accepted it. Marc didn't complain anyway. Steven was the sweetest of them. Steven woke you up quite early in the morning. It was the first time he'd voluntarily got up early, but he'd been so excited he couldn't sleep any longer. Excitedly he jumped around next to you on the bed. "Get up. It's Christmas. At least in some countries." He laughed and pulled the covers off you. You sat up, still completely sleepy, and looked your boyfriend in the eye. They sparkled with joy and love. But before you could say anything, he was already hopping off the bed and getting a bag of Christmas decorations. From the looks of it, he'd been awake for a while doing some extra shopping.

A small Christmas tree stood in the corner. You were amazed about it. You had learned that Marc celebrated Hanukkah, which involved slightly different traditions, but Steven loved the Christmas traditions he saw on TV. Apart from the roast, of course. You got up and were pulled into a tight hug by Steven. "It's going to be a great party, especially with you, Y/N." He said happily, pulling you towards the little tree. With the brightest smile he unpacked the bag with the decorations and pressed a few balls into your hand. You smile and together you trim the tree. You put the tip on the tree together. You examine contentedly the tree, which now shone with colored lights. "So what do we do now?" you ask. Steven looked just as clueless. Then something occurred to him. "We can watch a nice Christmas movie and build a nest."

You nod enthusiastically and you both build a nest of blankets and pillows. Steven adjusted the TV while you prepare hot chocolate and hot tea for your vegan friend. Then you lie down together and you snuggle up to Steven. Especially in the cold weather, cuddling was the best medicine to prevent a cold. You watched a total of three Christmas movies in a row while eating the cookies you baked a few days ago along with the hot chocolate and tea. After the films you decided to cook something delicious. Neither Steven nor you were the best cooks and it almost ended in a disaster. The sauce was burnt and the water for the dumplings boiled over. Despite all the disasters, you still sat at the small dining table and burned your mouths on the hot red cabbage. The food was a failure, but that couldn't spoil the mood for you.

"When are we going to give presents?" Steven asked excitedly. He finally wanted to give you your gift. You looked on the clock. It was already 7 p.m. and you nodded to Steven with a smile. "We can make presents." You all agreed to give the gifts at the end of the day to make the day more exciting. Steven walked briefly through the apartment and came running to you with a box wrapped in beautiful, colorfully decorated wrapping paper. You had also brought his present here at the same time. Steven insisted on giving you his first, so the gift was in your hands and he gave you a curious look as you carefully removed the wrapping paper. A box with a glass ball appeared. You open it carefully and look at it. Your eyes started to sparkle. "Yeah, I know, it's nothing expensive, unfortunately I haven't had that much since I was fired." Steven said a little sadly, but when he saw your look, he was relieved.

You carefully took the ball out of the packaging. There was a 3D engraving of you and Steven with 'Merry Christmas' written above it and 'I love you' below the image. It was wonderful. Steven looked at you hopefully as you carefully put the ball back and then hugged him tightly. He was over the moon that you liked it. "It's beautiful. Thank you Steve, thank you!" You say, kissing his cheek countless times. He laughed sheepishly and returned your hug. "My gift to you doesn't compare so well," you say a little sadly, but Steven knew you always gave great gifts. You break the hug, give him a quick kiss on the mouth, and hand his gift to him. He was an excited mess but tried to open the gift as carefully as possible. A small stature and a certificate appeared. He looked at you in astonishment.

The small statue showed the tomb of Alexander the Great and the certificate read: "This award is for Steven Grant, the finder of the long lost tomb of Alexander the Great". He was overjoyed. "How did you do that?" he asked. You looked at him with a smile and replied, "I needed some help, but since you were the rightful finder, Marc and I made sure you got a credit for it." Steven could have cried with joy. He also put the gift carefully on the table to be able to fall into your arms. You caught him laughing and you lay grateful to have the other to cuddle you.

Marc Spector

Marc and you lay in bed until late morning. You lay snuggled up in bed and told each other Christmas stories that you had overheard somewhere. Marc was happy to celebrate the celebration of love with someone. Since the death of his brother, it has only been celebrated at home as a trist holiday. Although he was Jewish, apart from a few small traditions, he celebrated it as did his other alters. He hadn't believed in an almighty one for a long time after everything that had happened to him. But he liked to celebrate the festival of love. Especially with you. He loved listening to you tell him Christmas stories while he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

After a while he got up, gave you a kiss and asked you to rest a bit. You had actually rested enough already, but you understood that he wanted to surprise you and so you took your headphones and leafed through a book. After half an hour, Marc came back to you on the bed, took the book from your hand, put the headphones aside and lifted you into his arms. You laugh and cling to him as he carries you to the dining nook. He had baked rolls and ceremoniously set the table.

The nine-armed stand stood in the middle of the table and gave off a warm light. He had exchanged the top of the Christmas tree for the Star of David and Marc was happy to be able to come to an agreement so that he could celebrate December 25th, Kislew, with you. Arrived at the table, he put you on the chair and pushed it a little towards the table. Unlike Steven, there was bacon and ham with the other cold cuts. Marc sat down opposite you and handed you a roll. "That's beautiful," you say happily. He smiled and you ate breakfast together. Then Marc put your coat on. "What are we going to do next?" you ask curiously. Marc smiled. "Now we're going to take a nice walk through the Christmas market and you choose something nice." You jump happily in front of him.

You walked through the streets of London holding hands and looked at the shop windows of the different shops on your way to the market. Marc always observed exactly in such moments. He liked being someone who would surprise you with gifts that he saw you liked as you walked by. When you arrived at the Christmas market, your mouth dropped open in amazement. You hadn't made it to the market this year and were all the happier that Marc brought you here.

The different lights were shining everywhere and the smell of almonds and crêpes was in the air. You loved the Christmas market and moved Marc from one stall to the next. It was really nice for him to see you enjoying the trip. You ate crepes together, looked at the different Christmas decorations, drank a mulled wine together and then you dragged Marc to the ice rink, which stretched across a large square. "Can we please ride together?" You ask, looking at him pleadingly. The person you spoke to smiled and went to the cash register with you in tow, where he got two tickets and skates to borrow.

It took you a while to squeeze into those things, then you pulled Marc onto the ice and you drove off. Marc wasn't the best skater and although he could keep his balance well in many situations, he struggled on the ice. It was even funnier for you. You eventually grabbed his arm and pulled him with you so he could hold on to you. He had to admit he enjoyed it. After a bit of time it got the hang of it and ran almost perfectly. Now you looked a bit awkward next to it, but that didn't bother you. You guys had a lot of fun. Since not too many were out at Christmas, you even had a large part of the area to yourself. But the vendors at the Christmas market also slowly wanted to go to their families, so you made your way back home. Halfway down, Marc stopped and looked at you for a moment. You return the look questioningly. He smiled and said, "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen, Y/N." Immediately, a big smile crept onto your lips and you walked the few steps to him. "I can only give you that back in the same way." You said, standing on tiptoe and kissing him sweetly on the lips. He smiled and returned the kiss. Then he said: “Now you haven't chosen anything.” “I don't have to choose anything. I spent a wonderful day with you. That was a great gift.”

Marc was always amazed that you weren't so superficial and he loved that about you. But of course you got him something. When you were back in your apartment and sat exhausted on the bed you gave him a carefully wrapped box. He looked at you in astonishment. He had said he didn't need any presents, but of course you hadn't listened to that. His gaze softened and he took the gift from you. "You shouldn't get me anything," he said, almost reproachfully. You just shrug and say, "Come on, open it." The man smiled and carefully opened it.

A beautifully decorated pocket knife was well packed in the box. He had lost his some time ago and had been very sad about it and here you sat with an expectant look and gave him the most beautiful present ever. Your happy face when you see how happy he was about the knife. Two birds with one stone, he thought. The knife was decorated with beautiful patterns and it fit perfectly in his hand. "It's the most beautiful knife I've ever seen. Thanks, Y/N,” he said happily, pulling you into a tight hug.

Jake Lockley

Jake woke you up right at 7 a.m. You were completely tired when he carried you to the car and drove off. You had no idea where to go, especially since today was a holiday anyway. And he didn't like Christmas markets. The drive took two hours and that also explained why he had thrown you out of bed so early. You fell asleep in the car long ago. Jake loved watching you sleep. The flat road turned into a dirt road that woke you up instantly. You looked around. There was snow everywhere and a large forest stretched along the edge of the path. Jake pulled the car to the side and said you guys would walk the last bit. He put your coat on you and took you in his arms. Although he had provisions with him, he had brought a small trolley with him, in which there was now a large bag that he could pull behind him. He also had a backpack with him. When he said you were going to walk the last bit, you didn't expect him to carry you the bit, which also turned out to be a little further. But Jake seemed tireless.

After 10 minutes, a large lake stretched across your field of vision. Jake headed for a small cabin with a glass wall facing the lake. He put you on your feet and opened the door. "Walk in, princesa," he said, showing you the way inside. You sayd thank you and then looked around. It was wonderful. The cabin was relatively modern for its small size. It had a large main room overlooking the lake, a small bathroom, and a kitchenette. Jake carried the bags in and asked you to take a seat on the large bed in the main room.

"It's so beautiful here," you say in amazement. Jake smiled and sat down next to you when he was done. "They say you can also see deer here." You were excited and happy about this trip. Jake had already prepared everything and made sure that you could spend a lot of time together without him having to leave to bring something over again and again. He had cooked and frozen the food days ago, now all he had to do was heat it up. He did. He still found a hot winter soup for breakfast to be the best breakfast, even if this is perhaps rather unusual. But you don't mind. You were lounging on the bed and admiring the lake and the few birds that could be seen flying at this time of year when Jake came over to you with two steaming bowls of soup and sat down next to you again. He looked out for a moment too. Then he hands you your bowl, pulls you back onto the mattress, and leans you against him. Now he put a blanket over you . "It's nice here, but not nearly as nice as you.", he said and looked at you. You blushed slightly and smiled in embarrassment. After all this time you still got embarrassed when he complimented you and he loved it. He loved it when you blushed and shy.

After the meal, which tasted very good, you went for a walk through the snowy forest. It was quiet and you could only hear your footsteps in the snow. At least for now, because it wasn't long before you were singing Christmas carols together. You slip every few steps, but every time Jake catches you, laughing. At least until he fell himself. You laugh together and lie down in the snow. Your laughter echoed around the area. You had startled a deer that you could now hear running away. Then you became quieter, but you couldn't stop laughing. Only when the snow got through your clothes and you got cold you went back into the hut. Once there, Jake wrapped you in warm blankets and you drank a hot chocolate.

You leaned against him, completely frozen, and he pulled you closer to warm you. It was a sweet gesture. Jake always looked brutal on the outside, but he could also be very gentle and caring. He proved this to you over and over again. "I have a little something for you," you say, taking a package out of your pocket. You could just grab it in time when Jake brought you to the car in the morning. He looked at you reproachfully. But then he smiled and took the package from you. He shook it slightly while holding it to his ear. "What is it?" he asked, but you just laugh. He placed it on his thighs and began unwrapping it. A thin scarf with embroidered crescent moons appeared. "Did... did you do it yourself?" he asked in astonishment. You nodded and tried to read his expression. "Me encanta!" he called and immediately put the scarf on. You were over the moon that he liked it, but before you could say anything, he handed you a box. "Of course I also have something for you.", he said excitedly. You took the box, gave Jake a quick look, and then opened it. You put a hand over your mouth. You expected everything, even toys, but not a necklace. It was beautiful with entwined moons. The full moon in the center had framed a stone. You could hardly get a word out. It was just wonderful. Jake could see from your face that you liked it and he took it carefully and indicated that he wanted to put it on you. You let it happen and admire the jewel. "It is so beautiful. Thank you.” You said speechless. Jake smiled. "A beautiful necklace for a beautiful woman." Then he pulled you close and kissed you.