#steve gets high and gets quiet yall

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Just a cute little thing about Robin, Steve, and Eddie getting high and having a nice time. And hints at future Steddie. 💛 The conversation in this is nearly verbatim a conversation that me and @friendly-jester had not an hour or so ago, and they suggested we sounded like Robin and Eddie getting high.. and i had to agree... So ... take that as you will 🤣 ( thanks for the inspiration love!!! 💚)

"They just make me uncomfortable." Eddie says, taking a long drag from the blunt pinched between his fingers before passing it back to Robin.

"Oh I get that. For sure." She nods sagely, hair shaking, before taking a long drag herself. She passes it to Steve, his eyes are foggy, but he takes it, takes a drag, passes it back to Eddie and let's his head fall back against the couch.

"Did you know they lure people into swamps and drown them?" Eddie supplies, stretching his legs out in front of him on the floor. They make a wide V, one leg resting between Robin's own, spread just the same.

"Kangaroos!?" Robin gasps, staring at Eddie. Blinking rapidly.

"Yes!!" Eddie nods aggressive, his hair shaking wildly.

"Demons." Robin says, stoic.

"I always knew it." She shakes her head, takes another drag, tries to hand it to Steve, he doesn't respond, his eyes are squinted, he's staring at the wall. She bumps his knee with her hand, he eventually waves her away, so she passes it back to Eddie.

"They pretend to be stuck and when people go to help them. They shove them underwater! They are evil beings!" Eddie continues, takes the last drag and stubs the tiny end out in the ashtray, next to their last one.

"I bet it's a defense mechanism." Robin says, blinking rapidly again, her head resting on Steve's knee before rolling to rest against the couch.

"Drowning people!?" Eddie says, incredulous.

"I bet it is!!" Robin says, lifting her head to look at him. Eyes bloodshot and darting around the room before coming back to Eddie again and again.

"Jesus christ. They're evil. Creepy, little handed, fucks." Eddie breathes, shaking his head. He scratches at his head for a second.

"I do like Wallabies though. I think that's what they are. Like, tiny Kangaroos that just stay small." Eddie says, making a little motion with his hands, indicating how they are in fact small. His hand hovering a few feet off the ground. Robin's head is nodding slowly, like she'd started nodding to agree but then just... kept nodding.

"Yes! The small Kangaroos that animated ones are based off of! Those are Wallabies... I think. Not 100% sure on that though." She shakes her head, looks up at Steve and smiles, he's staring at the wall, before looking back to Eddie, a sad look on her face. He frowns to match her as she says,

"I was so heartbroken when I found out how terrifying actual Kangaroos are." Her voice is quiet. Eddie bumps his leg into hers and then reaches over, curls his hand around her ankle in comfort.

"They're horrific. Like..." he takes a deep breathe, gathering his thoughts as they seem to float away from him.

"Like, solid muscle bouncing around. With a weapon at the back and the bottom. AND THEY DROWN PEOPLE WITH THEIR TINY..." his yell, that has made all three of them flinch, trails off, his thoughts stalling.

"Their... um... shit. What are they?" He raises his hands, Robin looks at him, eyes wide, and he makes a grabbing motion with both hands.

"Boobs!" She shouts, pointing at him and snapping her fingers. Steve snorts but doesn't take his eyes off the wall, his hand reaching out toward it now.

"Hehe! Wait what? No! No! This!" And shakes one hand in the air, using the other to point at it.

"Oh! Oh! HANDS!" Her own hands splayed wide in front of her, flailing in excitement.

"HANDS!" Eddie yells back, pounding his hand against the carpet between his legs, nodding as he points at Robin.

"HANDS! THEY HAVE EVIL TINY HANDS FOR THEIR EVIL DEEDS!" Eddie shouts. Robin nodding enthusiastically across from him, patting at his knee.

"They're TERRIBLE. JUST THE WORST!!!" She cries, falling back against the couch dramatically, the motion doesn't even draw Steve's attention. He's sitting very still on the couch, his finger moving over and over a small scratch in the paint on the wall of the trailer.

"Steve." Eddie says. No response. Robin cranes her neck and looks up at him.

"Steve." Nothing.

"Steve." Eddie narrows his eyes.

"Steve." Robin looks to Eddie and smirks.

"Steve Steve Steve Steve Steve!" Both of them calling his name over and over seems to do the trick. He drops his hand slowly and lets his head fall to the side so he can see them both.

"Mmm? What?" The little grumpy groan makes Eddie smile, his chest feeling warm and full.

"What are your opinions on Kangaroos?" Eddie asks, leaning foward impossibly far, his elbows hitting the carpet as he rests his chin in his hand, looking up at Steve. Steve smiles at him for a moment, slow, and sweet, and hazy. Then a frown crawls onto his face and he moves his eyes to Robin, then back to Eddie.

"What... what the fucks a Kangaroo?" He breathes, sounding confused and slightly concerned. Eddie's eyes widen, he looks at Robin, her eyes are wide open as well, and when they meet Eddie's it's all over.

Robin laughs until she snorts, and then just laughs harder. Eddie's laughs have gone silent, his face red as he slaps his hand against the carpet. Steve's on the couch, a small, satisfied smile on his face.

His friends are here. Laughing. Because of something funny he said. He doesn't remember what he said. Or what they'd been talking about. But he watches Robin and Eddie laugh and laugh and feels lighter than he has in years.

He slides down until his butt hits the floor, both of them reaching for him as they laugh, like they're trying to pull him into the laughter too. Eddie's hand is warm on his knee, his eyes bright as he smiles at Steve, laughter echoing through the trailer, beckoning Steve to laugh with him.

Steve grabs Eddie's hand, tangles their fingers, almost says something too much for the moment, but Robin snorts again and sets Eddie off, his eyes linger on Steve for the briefest moment before Steve lets himself be pulled in.

He lets laughter bubble up in his chest and fall past his lips as Robin and Eddie cling to him, and he clings to them, and their joy fills Eddie's trailer on a random Saturday night.

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the mind flayer

Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?” “Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh. “Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”

Summary: jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).

Rating: general, cursing

Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, talk of death and grief, violence and blood

Words: 12.1k

Before you swing in: long time no see ! lots has happened, and this chapter was a pain for so many reasons, but shes here and i love her and i so sincerely hope yall enjoy :)

-

Stumbling blindly through dark woods while holding your bloodied ribcage has never been your favorite activity. Neither is following after a bunch of Demodogs to probably once again sacrifice your life to save others, yet here you are.

Steve has a gentle hand resting on the small of your back as he helps you navigate the woods. Dustin is to your left, scanning for anything that could possibly trip you as the three of you walk in a line. Lucas and Max follow, both of whom watch you with weary eyes.

Sure, you probably don’t look too good, but honestly. You’ve been objectively worse.

“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Dustin sighs next to you, kicking at a twig in your way. “He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

“Why do you have his butt memorized?” You mumble under your breath, which Steve chuckles at.

Max shakes her head. “But he was tiny two days ago.”

“Well, he’s molted three times already.” Dustin kicks at another twig, this time with more anger behind it. He’s on edge, and you know he’s worried that somehow Lucas will figure out that he kept Dart all this time.

You’d help the kid, but he dug his own grave.

“Malted?” Steve asks, looking over to you to see if you’re hearing what he’s hearing.

“No, buddy.” You shake your head at him, slightly endeared by the confusion on his face.

“Molted,” your brother clarifies. “Shed his skin to make room for growth, like hornworms.”

“I don’t think Steve knows what hornworms are, Dustin.”

The boy sighs, knowing you’re right, and continues to walk.

Max, however, won’t let the topic go. “When’s he gonna molt again?”

“It's gotta be soon.” Dustin responds, now looking around tiredly. He doesn’t have to tell you, but you saw how quickly Dart grew overnight; he’s grown at an alarming rate. “When he does he’ll be fully grown, or close to it.”

“And so will his friends,” you say grimly.

It’s quiet for a moment after that, your words unnerving the group. Everyone but Max had to deal with a fully grown Demogorgon last year, and none of you have forgotten how terrifying it had been. You all still have scars from it, both metaphorically and physically.

After a minute or so, Steve tries to lighten up the situation. “Well, at least there isn’t another cat for them to eat–”

“Steve–” But you’re too late, Lucas has already picked up on what the teen is saying.

The boy shoves past you and whips around to face Dustin, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “Wait, a cat? Dart ate a cat?”

“No, what? No!” Your brother is a terrible liar.

“What are you talking about? He ate Mews–” Your elbow digs into Steve’s side, causing him to hunch over and wheeze. “Shit.”

You force Steve’s head up so that he looks at you while you forcefully whisper, “Stop. Talking.”

“Mews? Who’s Mews?”

You turn to Max. “It’s nothing–”

“It’s their cat,” Steve wheezes out, still not at all understanding the situation.

“Steve!” You and Dustin screech at the same time. God, maybe it does make sense that he’s barely graduating high school.

“I knew it! You kept him!” Lucas shouts at Dustin, before turning to you with hurt in his eyes. “And you let him hide it from the party?”

You wince. “I had a suspicion, but by the time I found out it had already been too late and–”

“He missed me. He wanted to come home… and Y/N just happened to not know about it for a while.” Dustin interrupts, trying to appease his friend, but it doesn’t work.

“Bullshit!”

“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?”

“Oh, so now you admit it?”

You try to intervene, you’ve always hated when the boys fight. “Listen, what’s done is done and it’s too late to be angry now.”

Lucas scoffs. “I crawled into a dumpster to find Dart!”

“And that was a conscious decision that you made–”

“Guys!” Max steps in. “Who cares? We have to go.”

“I care!” Lucas faces Dustin again. “You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!”

“So did you!” You’ve never heard anger like this come out from Dustin. It isn’t an anger that spills over from a regular argument. Your eyes flicker to Max and you know that the anger is one that stems from hurt.

You remember how excited Dustin had been to tell you about his crush on the girl. Now, after she came here with Lucas, you fear you may have to have a code blue soon with your brother about young love and heartbreak. Unrequited crushes suck.

The kids all begin to scream at one another and you’re too tired to try and intervene again. Technically, they’re all right. Lucas shouldn’t have told Max everything, Dustin shouldn’t have hid Dart, and both boys shouldn’t continuously treat Max like some weird outsider.

As they argue, Steve rubs small circles in your back, sensing how exhausted you are. While your bleeding may have stopped, you still feel woozy from the blood loss and could really go for some water and food right now.

“They’ll figure it out,” he assures you, breath warm against your ear, and all you can do is sigh.

You’re about to tell Steve that maybe you should all walk back home, it’s late and the kids are all too mad at one another to be of any help, but then you hear screeching coming from the distance.

You both freeze.

Slowly, the two of you step away from the kids to follow after the sound. They’re too busy arguing to notice, but the screeching continues to grow louder and you share a look with Steve. This isn’t good.

“Hey guys?” Steve calls towards the kids, hand never leaving your back.

The kids continue to argue, ignoring him, and you bring your fingers to your lips and let out a high pitched whistle. “Idiots!” Lucas, Dustin, and Max all go quiet, looking over at you. More screeches fill the silence, and you tilt your head towards the sound. “Hear that? Shall we continue to fight or are we done here?”

Steve flashes his light towards the source of the sound and beckons for the kids to follow. You stay behind, both of you silently agreeing that he’ll lead and you’ll make sure everyone is safe. Lucas and Dustin immediately follow, but Max lingers.

“Hey, you comin’?” You ask, motioning towards where the boys have all gone.

“Why are we headed towards the sound?”

“Because it’s what we do,” you shrug. “Welcome to the party.”

Max blinks at you, in disbelief, and it breaks your heart that she has to come to terms with all of this. Taking the risk, you reach towards her hand, offering her time to pull away, but she doesn’t. She lets you grab her hand and you squeeze it, giving her a soft smile. “I’m right here.”

The girl exhales, still guarded, yet she finally nods at your words. She seems to believe you, which you’re thankful for, and together the two of you follow after the others. The five of you approach the overlook, all of Hawkins visible. There’s a layer of thick fog covering the town, the screeches ominous as the town is blanketed.

“I don’t see him,” Dustin mumbles next to you, though he slowly links his fingers through yours, quietly confessing to you that he’s scared.

You squeeze his hand. “Lucas, do you think your binoculars can see that far?”

The boy brings them up to his eyes, and within a few seconds he seems to have spotted the source. He swallows, lowers the binoculars, and says, “It’s the lab.”

“They’re going back home.” You whisper, feeling defeated more than anything else. It somehow always comes back to that fucking lab. Will’s episodes, Mike’s silence, Nancy and Jonathan taking the burden of bringing the entire lab down themselves.

You now understand the immense anger Nancy felt that day during lunch, when you had all been at Jonathan’s car and she created her genius plan. How badly she wanted to make the assholes pay for what they did to Hawkins. To Will. To Barb. To sweet El.

“We have to follow.” You say, an edge to your voice. Your side sears with pain, your ankle sending phantom pains up your leg. Dustin clings onto your hand like his life depends on it. You’re sick of suffering the consequences that Hawkin’s Lab has brought upon itself.

You begin to walk down the overlook, steps slow and careful, and while the kids glance uncertainly at one another, Steve doesn’t hesitate to follow after you. –

As you approach the gate to the lab, you see a car with headlights parked in front of it. Two figures stand at the edge of the forest line, watching.

Other people are here.

You bring your knives out and flick the handle so that the blades extend. Steve stands next to you, his own bat raised after seeing your fear, and you nod at one another to slowly begin approaching.

“Hello?” One of the figures shouts, their voice oddly familiar.

You stop.

“Who’s there?” The voice shouts again, and this time you recognize it.

It’s Jonathan.

Immediately you start to run, damning the pain in your side, and when you break through the treeline and see Jonathan standing there with Nancy, both of them safe and sound, you start to run even faster.

When Jonathan sees that it’s you, he starts to run as well and within seconds the two of you are a tangle of arms and limbs. He hugs you fiercely, his cologne familiar and you hadn’t known how homesick you were until you felt his arms around you.

“Bug,” Jonathan exhales with relief, squeezing you even tighter. He brings a hand to your hair and cradles your head, his fingers sure and strong and familiar as always. You bury your face in his neck, feeling all the pain and exhaustion from today begin to dissipate.

Nancy walks over and lays a hand on your arm as you’re still wrapped around Jonathan. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you guys are okay,” you sniff, you’re not sure why you’re crying. “God, I’ve had the weirdest two days of my life–”

“Steve?” Jonathan and Nancy suddenly say at the same time.

You pull away from your friend and let out a chuckle. Steve and the kids have now joined, confusion on all of their faces. “Like I said, it’s been a weird few days.”

“Nancy?” Steve walks over, his eyes going back and forth between you and the girl. He feels an overwhelming mixture of emotions overtake him. He notices the way Jonathan’s arm is still wrapped around you as you stand close to his side, and he notices the way Nancy avoids his eyes. Something burns within his chest.

“Jonathan?” Dustin narrows his eyes at the boy, and you can’t help but laugh.

Jonathan and Nancy approach the others and you slowly follow, taking your time. Nancy reaches Steve first. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Steve retorts.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will.”

You grab Nancy’s jacket. “Are they okay? Did something happen?”

“They’re not in there, are they?” Dustin motions towards the lab, fear in his voice.

Nancy lowers her voice. “We’re not sure.”

Jonathan senses there’s something else going on. “Why?”

Right on cue, the Demodogs begin to screech from the lab. Next to you, you feel Jonathan stiffen with fear. You know, without having to ask, that his family is stuck inside the lab. Suddenly the gash in your side stings in pain and you clutch at it and let out a wince. Hearing this, Jonathan finally realizes that you’re covered in blood.

“Oh my god,” his hands fall to your side as he scans for any other injuries. “You’re bleeding, oh my god.”

“I’m okay–”

“Fuck, bug. It looks bad–”

“Had a minor setback, we’re all good now though.”

Jonathan shakes his head at you, his eyes dripping with guilt; you know he’s already placed the blame upon himself long before he speaks. “I should’ve been there. I knew something was wrong when you didn’t call, and then Nance and I came back to my home being wrecked and you weren’t at your place and I was worried sick and thought you were dead–”

You grab his hands, forcing him to slow down and breathe. “Hey, look at me.” Slowly, his eyes meet yours. “I’m okay, bee. I had to protect the kids, and I had Steve. I’m right here.”

Jonathan looks over at Steve, who is stuck in some argument between Nancy and the kids, and he lets out a tired laugh. He can’t believe that he’s here right now, tired and delirious from a long trip with Nancy as you hold his hands, your own blood covering them, while Steve spares you worried glances. “Friends with him again, then?”

“It was inevitable.” You sigh, knowing how heavy your words are. Truly, it was inevitable. He’s too much like you, your wounds a matching pair, and you never stood a chance against the inevitability. He’s an extension of you now, you can no longer deny this.

“Are you really okay, though?” Jonathan asks you, still concerned about how much blood is on you. He feels this tug within him, pulling at his chest to encase you within his arms and to never, ever let you out of his sight again.

There’s still a slight limp in your step that Jonathan sees when he thinks you aren’t looking, the scar on your upper arm is harsh against the smooth skin he’s come to memorize, disrupting the topography of your body. Now, you’ve once again gotten hurt because of him. Your favorite cardigan is ripped and bloodied and Jonathan knows it’s one more scar he’s inexplicably given you.

The scars may fade, but he knows he’ll never be able to forgive himself. It’s the same heavy weight you feel within yourself over Will’s disappearance.

You notice that Jonathan’s eyes have glazed over in despair and you kiss his knuckles, bringing him back to you. “I promise I am.”

He nods, though he still looks unsure, but he pulls you in again for another hug. For a moment, everything is still. It reminds you of when you had been in Jonathan’s car last Christmas as he drove you home, the memories between you had gone still. You close your eyes, like you had last year, and for a moment nothing has changed.

“The power’s back!” Nancy exclaims, effectively shutting everyone up about who has seen what when.

You pull away from Jonathan. The urgence in her voice reminds you that everything has changed. There’s a scar on your upper arm that now has a matching scar on your ribcage. Jonathan has bags underneath his eyes that seem like they'll never go away.

You look away from him and look over at the kids and see, in Dustin’s and Lucas’ faces, the familiar fear and acceptance that they’re inevitably in danger. Steve catches your eye and he nods, indicating that whatever happens next, he’s ready whenever you are.

The seven of you quickly make your way back towards the lab’s gate, and Jonathan is the first to get there with you following close behind. The two of you stand in the patrol panel, Jonathan aggressively hitting the button designated for opening the gate, but nothing seems to be happening.

Suddenly Dustin barges in, roughly shoving past Jonathan and mumbling a soft sorry to you.

“Let me try.” Jonathan doesn’t move, which only aggravates your brother further and he flings the teen back. “Let me try, Jonathan!”

Jonathan looks at you incredulously, still having no idea why Dustin seems to suddenly hate him, and you stifle a laugh as you watch the boy repeatedly hit the button while nothing happens.

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin groans, still trying and failing to open the gate.

“Move over,” you shoulder past the kid and start pressing the button yourself. “It probably just doesn’t like you guys.”

Dustin and Jonathan both scoff at you, but you ignore them as you continue to press the button. You were mostly doing it to distract yourself, give your anxious mind something to do, but after a simple few taps, the gates unlock.

You cheer, immensely happy with yourself. “I did it! You guys just really do just suck!”

Jonathan shakes his head at you but offers his hand for you to high five, which you gladly do. As for your brother, he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation. You ignore the kid and follow Jonathan outside to join the others.

Once the gates have fully opened, you, Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve all begin speaking at once.

“I’ll go,” you all say in unison.

The kids all stare at one another, wondering how this will go. It didn’t escape their notice that Jonathan and Nancy were alone together, and that Steve’s worry over you has strings attached to unspoken truths.

They may be young, but they can sense the tension between you and the teens pretty easily.

“No, someone has to stay with the kids.” Nancy reasons, looking over at Jonathan to back her up, and his eyes draw to hers naturally.

You see this, and you wonder when they became such a cohesive team.

“Bug, what are you thinking?” He asks, knowing that ultimately it’s your call. When it comes to the kids, you’re the one to turn to.

You bite your lip, unsure. Max, Lucas, and Dustin all stare at you, and you know the two boys want you to stay with them. They’ve been through hell tonight, so have you, but then you think about whatever has happened in the lab to Will and Mike.

Sighing, you walk over to Jonathan. “Nance is right. I’ll stay behind with Steve while you and her drive to the lab. They’ll need all the help they can get, and I’m currently in no condition to fight.”

Jonathan’s eyes once again fall to your wrapped side, uncertain if you’ll be safe enough out here. “You sure?”

“I’m sure, bee.” You kiss his cheek, fucking terrified something will go wrong. The lab is crawling with Demodogs. “Promise you’ll be careful?”

“Always,” he cups your face and brings his forehead to yours. “I’ll come back.”

You relish in the warmth and let out a shaky exhale. “Go get Will.”

The moment between you two is intimate; everyone around you looks away. Nancy stares down at her feet while Steve clenches his jaw.

After a few more seconds, you finally release yourself from Jonathan’s hold and turn towards Nancy. “That goes for you as well, Wheeler. Stay safe.”

She nods at you, spares Steve one last glance, and then follows after Jonathan into the car. Within seconds, they speed off down the road, towards Hawkin’s Lab as more Demodogs screech in the distance.

“Well that was awkward.” Max breaks the silence. “Sensing there’s a lot of history there.”

You snort, admiring the girl’s wit, and tiredly lean against the gate’s post. “Still have a lot to catch up on, Max.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, he just gently leans next to you against his own post and flips his flashlight in his hand.

Dustin starts to pace while Lucas stares at the sky, as if willing away every problem from the day, which you want to do yourself. However, your best friend is currently very close to a death lab that Will and Mike are inexplicably trapped in.

You try to calm your breathing, knowing it’s no use getting yourself worked up, but you’re terrified. Steve sees your unease and does his best to comfort you. “Hey, they’ll be okay. Jonathan is a smart guy and Nancy is tough as hell.”

Hearing Nancy’s name coming out of his mouth makes you realize that you haven’t asked him how he’s feeling about all of this, which makes you feel even shittier. He confessed to you last night how he still loves her, and here you are, worried about your friend who the guy’s ex girlfriend showed up with.

“Are you okay?” You ask him softly, worried you’ll scare him away.

Steve doesn’t ask what you mean; he knows and lets out a dry laugh. “Not the most ideal situation.”

You’re about to say more, but something seems to catch Max’s attention. “Guys?”

You look towards where she’s pointing and you hear the faint sounds of tires squealing against concrete. The same sound Billy’s car had made in the school parking lot days ago. As you piece this together, headlights light up the gate and the honking starts.

Immediately you and Steve rush over to the kids and push them away, narrowly avoiding being hit. As soon as the road is cleared, Hopper’s familiar truck brakes in front of you.

“Let’s go,” the man gruffs out, and you’ve never been happier to see that obnoxious cop’s face.

Steve runs over to the passenger door and holds it open while you usher the kids to go inside. “Come on, let’s go! Go, go, go!”

One by one you get the kids seated in the truck, and once you and Steve make sure they’re in safely, he motions for you to go next before he climbs inside and slams the door shut. You end up squished up front, in between Hopper and Steve.

“Drive!” You scream, and Hopper doesn’t need to be told twice before he stomps on the gas and follows after Jonathan’s car.

It’s silent for a few minutes as everyone steadies their breathing, processing what’s just happened. You rub at your side, the rough movements from earlier having upset the wound. Hopper notices this and raises an eyebrow at you. “Lose a fight?”

“Mhm,” you see that he’s dressed in hospital scrubs and raise your own eyebrows. “Got checked into a psych ward?”

Hopper lets out a short laugh and you can see the exhaustion behind his eyes, but he plays along and you’re grateful for it. “Yeah, figured it was time.”

–

The Byers’ home is a disaster when you walk in. The walls are covered with pictures drawn by Will, a map that he somehow came to piece together, of an entire underground tunnel system that the Demodogs now reside in.

You sit on the ground next to Will, who has been placed on the couch while he’s still unconscious, and you hold his cold, limp hand as Jonathan kneels next to the boy and strokes his hair.

“I’m sorry, bud.” He whispers, voice breaking. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there.”

You grab Jonathan’s own hand. “He wouldn’t blame you. You couldn’t have known.”

Nancy places a hand on his shoulder as she watches over him, a certain concern in her eyes that you’ve never quite seen before. She’s always been the most guarded out of the three of you, but now she’s rubbing comforting circles into Jonathan’s back; you’ve never seen her so open before, so affectionate with someone.

You noticed how much closer they seemed earlier at the lab, how the tension between them now appears to be gone. You know that something happened on their spy adventure, you know they’d been alone together, probably gotten a motel room, even. Your stomach twists at the thought, but Will’s cold hand is a reminder that none of that matters right now. Like last year, he comes first.

“We’ll figure it out, bee. We always do.” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek, not knowing how many more times you’ll be able to do so, and you try to memorize how his face feels pressed against yours, the way your nose buries into his skin and the way he leans into the kiss each and every time.

Jonathan sniffles and thanks you, pulling you into his side as he continues to stroke Will’s hair. Nancy remains standing, and when you look up to offer her to sit next to you, you finally notice Steve standing in the corner, watching.

He’s holding himself as he watches the three of you and, despite how he tries to hide it, you see Steve wipe at his nose and blink away tears; he’s never looked so small before, and your heart breaks for him as he walks out of the room.

You excuse yourself to follow after him, bypassing Hopper who is angrily trying to contact some government people to alert them about Hawkin’s Lab.

Steve walks into the kitchen and faces the drawings on the wall, his back turned away from everyone in a pathetic attempt to gain some privacy. Slowly, you approach him and stand to his left. You know he senses your presence, but he continues to stare straight ahead.

“You want to talk about it?” You ask, voice low so no one else in the kitchen can hear.

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head, it’s all of a response he can give you right now. He’s worried that if he tries to speak, he’ll start crying. His worst fear has come true. He’s been replaced.

Tentatively, you grab his hand and bring your lips to his ear. “Can I?”

You feel Steve shiver, his breath is shaky, and though he isn’t quite sure what you’re asking him, he nods anyways.

He will always say yes to you.

The moment Steve nods, you tug at the hand you’re holding and bring his arms around you; he practically melts in your arms. Releasing another shaky breath, he buries his face in your hair and inhales your perfume as if gasping for air. He brings a hand to your hair as he cradles the back of your head, bringing you even closer together.

For the first time in Steve’s life, his mind goes quiet.

You’re aware of everyone else in the room, you know you’ll have to deal with the kids’ nosy questions later, but you don’t care. Steve needs you, and the way he’s clinging onto you as you hug tells you everything you need to know.

He’s barely holding it together, so you discretely shift so that the others can’t see as you attempt to piece him back together with your arms tightening around him and your fingers intertwining through his hair as well.

Your ribs scream in protest as you lean against the boy, but the pain reassures you that you are alive and sharing this pain with someone you’ve come to care deeply about.

“I’m here,” you whisper, feeling Steve’s body shake at the reassurance. “It’s just you and me right now, okay?”

He nods, still too scared to speak. The two of you remain interlocked in the kitchen you grew up in, surrounded by Will’s drawings and memories of early morning breakfasts with Jonathan, and Dustin watches from the kitchen table.

Lucas watches as well and shares a glance with your brother, who can only shake his head and sigh. He knows, sooner or later, that he’ll have to ask you about Steve, he’s never seen you like this before, not even with Jonathan, but for now he leaves you both alone.

When Hopper angrily hangs up the phone, Dustin uses it as an opportunity to distract himself. “They didn’t believe you, did they?”

“We’ll see,” Hopper sighs, tired.

“‘We’ll see’? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!” Mike exclaims, his foot tapping nervously underneath the table.

The chief sighs again, now spotting you and Steve still holding each other in the corner. “Hey, Henderson and pretty boy, get a room. Mike, we stay here and we wait for help.”

Hearing your name, you finally break apart from Steve and send Hopper an embarrassed glare, clearing your throat. Steve clears his throat as well and takes several steps away from you. His cheeks flaming red.

“Did he call me pretty boy?” Steve whispers to you, but you shush him, instead walking over to Mike, who has now started to tap his foot even more aggressively.

Standing behind the boy, you rub his shoulder, unsure how to help the boy. You know he’s worried about Will and he’s always hated waiting almost as much as you do. At your touch, Mike turns his head to look up at you, and the fire that’s always been in his eyes has died.

You look around the table, it’s quiet. Max is playing with her fingernails, Lucas is staring at the table with tears in his eyes, and Dustin is watching as you try to comfort Mike. All the kids are in their own state of shock and grief. They’re too young for all of this.

Meanwhile, Steve hangs back by the corner, knowing that this is what you do best: you take care of people. He watches as you furrow your brows for a second, a slight quirk he’s picked up about you, and slowly he sees you piece together how to help the kids you love so dearly.

You start with leaning against the table, wedged between Dustin and Mike, and somehow–Steve has always wondered how you do this–you light up the cold room with warmth.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of this by yourself,” you stroke Mike’s hair, it’s rare that you get to do this, but he remains numb to your touch. “Had I known any of this would happen, I would’ve made you more fudge brownies.”

Though it’s small, almost imperceptible, Mike lets out a tiny huff, a placeholder of a laugh.

At least it’s a start.

You whisper more words to him as Dustin leans against your back, grounded by your presence, and Max watches this with interested yet envious eyes. She still has yet to grow used to your kindness, to the love you share with the boys: a sibling relationship she’s never had before.

As you’re comforting Mike, his eyes wander towards the living room and suddenly he gets up. You watch, curious as to what he’s doing, as he grabs a cube and delicately rolls it around in his hand.

“Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?”

At the mention of Bob’s name, you bring Dustin closer to you. With everything that’s happened tonight, the reminder of the man’s death fills you with raw, unfiltered grief. When you arrived at the Byers home and found a distraught Joyce, you knew.

Bob is dead, and he has taken all the kindness he shared with you. He was a sweet man, one who took you in without any question as soon as he started dating Joyce, a man who offered you rides to work and encouraged you to stop by his own job any time. The same man who brought the woman who is like a second mother to you, back to life.

Your heart breaks for Joyce, for Will and Jonathan and all the other kids.

Bob Newby truly was a superhero, everyone he ever interacted with came out a better person because of it. He never left anyone without a smile on their face, and now he’s gone.

Once you’ve managed to swallow down your grief, you voice from the kitchen, “I didn’t know that.”

Mike turns to you. “He petitioned the school to start it and everything, and then he had a fund-raiser for equipment. Mr. Clark learned everything from him.” There’s light in his voice as he approaches the table again, a spark as if the fire is trying to relight itself. “Pretty awesome, right?”

Dustin and Lucas nod, faint smiles on their own faces. “Yeah.”

Mike sets the cube down. “We can’t let him die in vain.”

You agree with him, but how could you possibly accomplish something like that>

“What do you want to do, Mike?” Dustin lifts his head up, frustrated. “The Chief’s right on this. We can’t stop those Demodogs on our own.”

“Demodogs?” Max finally speaks up.

You sigh, tired of hearing your brother’s explanation of his made up name. “Please don’t ask–”

“Demogorgon, dog. Demodog.” Your brother explains, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Demodogs. It’s like a compound… It’s like a play on words–”

“Okay!” You and Max say at once, cutting off his spiel.

“I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe…”

You snort at Dustin. “Tell that to my ribcage.”

The boy glares at you and Lucas takes over, reigning you both back in. “But there’s an army now.”

“Precisely,” Dustin sighs in defeat.

Mike, who has been quiet the entire conversation, realizes something. “His army.”

Steve looks around, confused. “What do you mean?”

“His army!” Mike faces everyone, and the fire behind his eyes now fully alive, and you know he’s come up with some genius plan like his sister always does. “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army too.”

Dustin and Lucas share a glance and seem to be understanding what Mike is saying, but you look to Steve, equally as lost as he is, before Mike runs out the room while the others follow.

“Any idea what that kid is saying?” The teen asks you, but you shake your head.

“On a good day, I understand maybe a quarter of what Mike says. However, with significant blood loss and no real meals in me, I’m afraid I have no fucking idea what’s happening.”

“Cool,” Steve steps closer to you and motions for you to guide the way. “Let’s follow, then.”

You find the kids in Will’s room, all standing over a picture that the boy drew. In it is a looming figure with four long limbs, its figure thin and haunting as it stalks over the picture. Seeing the drawing, you get an uneasy feeling.

“The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.” Mike is explaining, speaking so fast you can barely keep up as you and Steve stand in the doorway.

“What virus?” You ask, now standing next to the kids.

Mike hands you the picture. “The shadow monster, it got Will that day at the field.”

“And this virus… It’s connecting him to the tunnels?” Max seems to be following along better than you are, which is quite depressing.

“The tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything.”

Something within your stomach drops, the familiar weight of guilt follows it. “Will is still connected to the Upside Down?”

“Whoa, slow down,” Steve steps in now, sensing your panic, and tries to rectify the situation. “Let’s all just slow down.”

Mike groans. “The shadow monster is inside everything, and if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will.”

Again, guilt throws itself against you with all its weight, and you feel each thud against your body like a hammer feels a nail.

Lucas nods. “And so does Dart.”

“Like what Mr. Clark taught us. The hive mind.” Mike follows.

You’re silent, staring at the picture still in your hands.

Steve crosses his arms. “Hive mind?”

“A collective consciousness, a super organism.” You hear Dustin clarify, but it’s all beginning to blur together for you.

All you can think is that you’re the reason Will has become entangled in all of this, in alternate dimensions, infected with a monster so powerful that it can create vast tunnels underneath your feet and monsters bred to kill.

Mike is on a roll now, it’s all clicking together. “And this is the thing that controls everything. It’s the brain–”

“Like the mind flayer,” Dustin realizes, which causes both Lucas and Mike to stop in their tracks.

It seems the boys have figured it all out, then.

And it seems to you that old scars will never fade, not in the way that they should.

Swallowing down your nausea and tears and guilt, you finally speak. “Explain everything to me.”

–

Dustin throws the DnD book onto the Byers’ kitchen table, beginning to explain everything as everyone gathers around.

You stand next to him, Steve to your right, and watch as your brother commands the room as if he was born to do so. As he explains, you look around and everyone. Jonathan stands next to Lucas, facing across from you, and Nancy finds herself standing to your left, worried.

“Oh my god, none of this is real,” Hopper is already over the entire situation, which annoys you. “This is a kid’s game.”

“I’m sorry, but those Demodogs that just attacked us are logical to you?” You snap at the cop, completely baffled that he for some reason decided to draw the line at a DnD reference rather than literal demons from another dimension.

Hopper narrows his eyes at you, but before he can say anything, Jonathan shrugs his shoulders. “Y/N has a point, you know.”

“Okay, before we all start fighting, I just want to point out that this,” Dustin points to the book on the table. “Is a manuel, and it’s not for kids. Unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor–”

“Analogy.” Lucas interrupts.

“Analogy, that’s what you’re worried about?” You grab at Dustin’s jacket to try and settle him down, but he’s angry and annoyed and you know it’s been a long day for everyone. “Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is!”

Nancy sees you struggling with the boy and tries to step in. “Okay, so this mind flamer thing–”

“Flayer,” you gently correct.

“What does it want?”

Dustin bites his lip. “To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?”

“Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh.

“Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”

Steve tries to say more but you hold your finger up, indicating that you won’t listen to whatever he’s about to say, and he rolls his eyes at you but rests his free hand against the one you have on his arm.

However, when Lucas announces that you could all be dealing with the end of the world, Steve lets out a dry laugh and tries to pull away from you, freaking out. “That’s great! That’s really great, jesus!”

You pull him back by the arm, forcing him to stand next to you and calm down, and he doesn’t try to fight it. Though he’s scared out of his fucking mind and in over his head, he listens to your silent command and comes back to you. Once he’s still, you unwrap your arm from his and bring that hand to the back of his neck, playing with the baby hairs there to try and soothe him.

Steve leans into your touch, his shoulders start to relax, and you know he’s slowly calming down.

Jonathan sees this interaction and catches your eye, and when he has your attention, he flashes you a knowing smirk as he mouths, friendly, aren’t we?

You narrow your eyes and subtly point between him and Nancy, mouthing back, you’re one to talk, which effectively shuts Jonathan up and he diverts his eyes again, going back to focusing on what Dustin and the others are saying.

“No, no fireballs,” Dustin is explaining to Hopper. “Instead, you–uh. You summon an undead army and… Uh, because… Zombies, ya know? They don’t–uh, have brains and the–the mind flayer, it, uh, likes brains.”

When your brother sees you shaking your head in disappointment and Hopper’s barely controlled anger, he quickly finishes with, “It’s just a game.”

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “You did well explaining, buddy.”

Dustin gives you a weak thumbs up as Hopper angrily throws the book down. “What the hell are we doing here?”

“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.” Dustin retorts, and you quickly raise your hand for a high five, which he gladly accepts.

Hopper sees this and rolls his eyes. “We are!”

“But even if they come, how are they gonna stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns!” Mike quips, and you give him a high five as well.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!” Hopper roars, and it takes everything within you not to flinch at his raised voice.

“We do know, actually.” You say, voice quiet but stern as you try to steady your heartbeat. You’ve never, ever been able to hear a man yelling at you without some form of panic clawing at your chest. “Ask Nancy about the guns. We fought a fully grown Demodog last year, you seem to conveniently forget that.”

Hopper clenches his jaw. “Every time I start to like you, you piss me off again.”

“It’s a skill.”

Everyone begins to argue again, Hopper with you while Dustin, Lucas, and Mike take your side to try and reason with the cop, before a frail, broken voice silences you all.

“They’re right.” Joyce stumbles from her room, her face still wet with tears as grief overtakes her.

“Mrs. Byers,” you breathe out, immediately walking over to the woman to stand by her side, but she gently pushes you away.

“We have to kill it.” Anger slowly spills into her voice. “I want to kill it.”

Hopper joins your side now, the two of you surrounding the woman. “Me too, Joyce. Okay? But how do we do that? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”

“We don’t know what could happen to Will,” you urge, understanding Joyce’s anger but terrified of how it may affect her son.

“If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will.” Mike begins to walk over to the boy, who is still knocked out cold on the couch. “He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.”

Everyone stands in the living room now, and dread encases its hand around your throat. You don’t want to make Will any more involved in this than he needs to be, he’s been through too much.

Max cocks her head. “I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore. That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.”

“We can always trust Will.” There’s an edge to your voice, and Jonathan has to grab your hand to steady you.

Mike nods, understanding what you’re trying to voice. “I know, Y/N. We can always trust him, and he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

–

Somehow, Steve gets paired up with Nancy to cover the inside of the Byers’ shed with tarps.

One minute Steve had been standing behind you in the living room as Mike explained his plan, and the next minute he was being auctioned off to join his ex in a small shed while you got to happily team up with Jonathan and his mom.

It was unfair, really.

While he’s moping about his luck, Nancy hesitantly looks at Steve, clearly also as equally uncomfortable in the silence. She lingers as Steve begins to hang up another tarp and she tears a piece of tape for him, waiting.

She watches as Steve’s body stretches the length of the wall and realizes that this is the first time they’ve been alone together since their conversation at school, and that his languid movements are foreign to her.

Nancy hasn’t seen him so at ease in a long, long time.

She thinks about how you’d been with him these last few days while she had been with Jonathan, and she wonders what else may have possibly changed in such a short amount of time.

“Hey,” she finally says, the silence clawing at her. “What you did, um… Helping the kids, that was really cool.”

Steve still looks at Nancy with such sincerity and warmth, something that makes her stomach twist with guilt. He doesn’t know what she’s done just yet, and she doesn’t know if he has a right to even care at all.

“Yeah,” he exhales, breaking the eye contact first. “Those little shits are real trouble, ya know?”

Nancy finds herself laughing, grateful he seems open to talking to her. “Believe me, I know.”

“It’s a miracle that Y/N survived so long on her own.” Steve says absentmindedly, returning to hanging up the tarp.

Hearing your name causes Nancy’s stomach to twist again. Steve may not have pieced everything together just yet, but she knows that you have. You’ve always been able to read people well, too well, even.

Jonathan wasn’t yours and she wasn’t Steve’s, yet Nancy feels an overwhelming sense of guilt for the two of you.

“It’s nice that you were there for her,” Nancy avoids looking at Steve again.

“Y/N has been there for everyone else, so I figured it was time that someone was finally there for her?” He shakes his head, unsure what he’s even saying. “I just… I wanted to help her.”

Nancy doesn’t say anything, she only nods and continues tearing off more pieces of tape.

You’re too good, everyone knows this, and sometimes Nancy finds herself resenting you for it, even though none of it is your fault.

–

Jonathan tears down another bedsheet from the clothing line and tosses it into the growing pile of sheets and bedding in your arms; he yanks them down, you catch, and then he cuts the lines with the knives you loaned him.

“You sure this is gonna work?” Jonathan asks his mom, who has joined the two of you to collect her own pile of sheets to cover the shed.

Joyce nods, the familiar frantic look in her eyes from last year is now back. “He knew who I was. He’s still in there. It’s gonna work, it has to.”

You peek from behind the pile of cloth you’re holding. “Who knows, maybe we can finally prove whether or not Freud’s theory of consciousness is correct.”

Jonathan doesn’t understand what you mean, but Joyce sends you a grateful smile, appreciative that you’re trying to remain optimistic despite the situation, and then leaves before her son can question the plan once more.

As soon as the two of you are alone, Jonathan puts your switchblade in his pocket and then faces you, not wasting a second to finally have you to himself. “Okay, tell me everything I missed while I was gone.”

His eager curiosity makes you smile. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but aren’t we on a time limit?”

“I think we can spare a few minutes, bug.”

“Fine, but at least grab some of these sheets so I can actually look at you while I talk.”

Jonathan laughs and does as he’s told, grabbing some of the cloth you’re holding and lessening the weight of it for you. Once he’s able to see your face, he smiles warmly at you. “Hi,”

“Hi, bee.” The greeting drips from your mouth like pure honey, and with two simple words, Jonathan can feel himself finally begin to relax.

“So,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Go on.”

You take a deep breath, knowing that what you’re about to tell Jonathan will remove the carefree smile on his face. He’ll only blame himself, and you hate the responsibility he seems to feel for you.

“The only major thing, well… Besides the Demodogs, is that I spilled milk all over Billy, the guy you punched at the Halloween party.”

Jonathan gapes at you. “What?”

“Yeah, it was kinda awesome, honestly. He was being a bitch, accusing me and Steve of getting together to piss you and Nance off, and he was just being an overall creep, so… I spilled milk on him to get him to shut up so that Steve wouldn’t end up knocking the guy out.”

“Wait, Steve was there?” He tries to keep his voice level, but even Jonathan can hear the underlying hurt within his voice.

He’s not sure why the hurt is there, or why the thought of Steve being the one now protecting you sends a punch to his throat.

“Yeah,” you frown at him, confused by his sudden shift in mood. “He was with me in the lunchroom, wanted to know where you and Nance had run off to.”

Jonathan swallows. “I’m glad he was there, bug.”

And he is, he knows he is, but he also knows that it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the shift that has come between the two of you. How it was only thirty minutes ago that you had wrapped your arm around Steve’s, not Jonathan’s.

He clears his throat. “So, about Steve…”

“What about him?” You feign ignorance, but Jonathan sees the blush that has started to spread across your face.

“You’re blushing, bug.” It hurts him to tease, but he knows he has to. Jonathan has to play the role he had been given when he was twelve and had met you that day on Nancy’s front porch.

The same girl he slept with last night, who he has come to love with such devotion that he still struggles to accept within himself.

They haven’t talked about it, at least not yet, but all the unsaid truths between you and Jonathan hang over him. He can feel the lines and threads and strings all closing in on you two, and he knows you can also sense it as well.

“It’s nothing, bee.” You start walking towards the shed, uncomfortable now. You don’t want Jonathan’s teasing, not when it comes to Steve; it’s too painful, you still haven’t quite come to terms with your newfound feelings for the boy.

Not when you haven’t laid your feelings for Jonathan to rest, yet.

It wouldn’t be fair to Steve.

Jonathan steps in front of you, blocking your path. He feels as if he’s about to lose you, and for the first time since he’s met you, he doesn’t know how to make you stay. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just… I know you.”

His words burn.

“Let’s just get back to the shed–”

“Bug,” he blocks your path again. He’s not ready to lose you just yet, but he knows he will soon. It’s inevitable. “I know you, and when you’re around Steve, you just… You’re different, a–a good different, and–”

“Jonathan, I really don’t want to talk about this,” you plead, but he hears the at least not with you that goes unsaid. “Why don’t you focus on your newly formed relationship with Nancy, okay?”

Jonathan stumbles over his feet. “You–you know?”

“I know you,” you echo his words from moments ago, with its melancholy and all.

He sighs, steps to the side, and lets you go.

It’s quiet after that.

–

In the shed, everyone busies themselves with their tasks.

You, Steve, and Lucas run around with nail guns and tape for those who need it. The rest of the kids work as a unit, helping one another with covering every inch of wall they can find. Meanwhile, Nancy wraps newspaper around the poles while Jonathan carries Will through the door.

Seeing Will, limp within Jonathan’s arms, only reminds you of the dead body that had been pulled from the quarry last year.

Only this time it really is Will.

Together, you and Jonathan gently place the boy in the chair and tie him. You ignore the way your heart clenches as you knot the cords together; you’re doing this to save him. Joyce prepares the medicine needed to knock Will out, in case anything happens, and as you watch, Lucas and Mike switch on the overhead lamps, blinding you.

“Christ,” you mumble, holding your hand up to shield your eyes from the light.

“It works,” Mike looks at you, hopeful. “It’s gonna work.”

Hopper steps forward, facing everyone. “If you aren’t related to the Byers family, get out.” While everyone begins to leave, you and Mike remain where you are. When Hopper sees this, he frowns. “What did I just say?”

Dustin and Steve linger in the doorway, both silently asking you what the plan is, and you give them a slight nod to indicate that it’s okay. You’ll join them later, right now Will needs you and you sure as hell aren’t leaving Mike and Jonathan alone to deal with this.

“Y/N is family, Hop.” Joyce stands next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You smile at her before facing the chief. “I’m staying.”

“Me, too.” Mike echos, standing his own ground against the man, and you refrain from giving him another high five for his bravery.

Better not to upset Hopper too much more.

The man in question groans, too tired to argue. “Fine, you two can stay, but only because I know that if I don’t let Henderson stay then Jonathan will probably have a panic attack or something.”

Jonathan shrugs. “Probably.”

Dustin rushes over to you and gives you a tight hug. “Be careful.”

“I will,” you kiss the top of his hat, catching Steve’s eye in the process. “Take care of him, please?”

Steve nods, without any hesitation to do as you’ve asked. “Of course.”

And with that, the door to the shed closes as the last of the group leaves.

It’s silent after that, and you take a second to admire the work everyone did. The shed is completely unrecognizable, and the lights will only further limit Will’s vision. A part of you truly believes that this plan could work, but you’ve long since stopped letting your hope get the better of you.

“Alright, you ready?” Hopper looks over at Joyce, holding the ammonia needed to wake Will up.

“Yeah,” the woman crosses her arms, and you want to reach out and hold her.

Everyone is quiet as Hopper crouches in front of Will and dabs some ammonia onto a cotton ball. Then, slowly, he brings it up to the boy’s face and waits for him to inhale. When he does, Will’s eyes snap open and he inhales so sharply that you’re worried he’s hurt himself.

You stand in between Mike and Jonathan, and seeing the pure fear on Will’s face brings tears to your eyes. He reminds you of a deer, small and frail, with eyes so full of fear that it makes you ache.

Will’s eyes dart around the room, and when he notices that he’s tied to the chair, he begins to tug at the cords. “What–what is this? Why am I tied up?”

“Will, we just wanna talk to you,” Joyce softly tells him, now eye level with the boy as she does her best to calm him down. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“Where am I?” The fear that had once been in Will’s voice is gone, now replaced with an anger that seems so foreign to associate with the boy.

Hopper joins now, showing him the picture of the mind flayer that he drew. “You recognize this?”

Will shakes his head and looks over at you, now realizing that you’re there, and you force yourself to look away. He’s always been the sweetest boy, but he killed so many innocent people today, even if he hadn’t meant to.

You trust Will, you do, but you remind yourself that the boy in front of you isn’t really him.

“We wanna help you,” Joyce tries to reassure him again. “But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it.”

At the mention of killing, Will’s eyes widen as more anger seeps through him, now shouting at his mother, “Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up?”

He begins to thrash around, throwing his head back against the wall as he repeatedly screams and begs to be let go. The lights are now flickering and immediately you draw Mike into your chest, trying to mask your own tears as you comfort him.

Jonathan clings behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he buries his face into your shoulder, and blindly you reach behind yourself so you can hold him as well. When you feel his tears spill against your skin, you wrap your arms tighter around Mike and cry.

Will continues to scream, becoming more and more violent, and something demonic seems to crawl into his vocal chords as he screams.

You hold Mike and Jonathan tighter against you, doing everything you can to be there for the boys. You knew this would be difficult, but as the lights continue to flicker and Will’s pale face quickly becomes paler with every plea, you feel weak.

With Jonathan behind you and Mike in front of you, both boys clinging onto you as sobs wrack your own body, it becomes unclear who is being held up and who is the one holding.

Hopper has his own arms wrapped around Will, and slowly, miraculously, his pleas begin to fade off. Exhaustion seems to overtake the boy, as he starts to mumble more than scream, and with every exhaled breath, the light’s flickering settles down.

Finally, silence.

The only sound in the shed is Will’s labored breaths, alongside your own.

Joyce sits in the chair placed in front of Will, takes a moment to find her words, and then asks the boy, “Do you know what March 22nd is?”

You do, it’s Will’s birthday, and you listen as Joyce talks about his eighth birthday and how she had gotten him a giant box of crayons and he had used all the colors to draw a rainbow ship. With every word, more despair and love fills the woman’s voice as she reflects on how proud she is of him, how much she loves him, and you have to turn away for a moment to wipe at your eyes.

After Joyce has finished her story, you all see something within Will. As if he’s coming back to himself, his eyes no longer holding the malic from earlier.

Jonathan detangles himself from you and wipes his eyes as well, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Do you remember the day dad left?”

You turn around, already knowing the story that he’s about to tell, and you press a soft kiss to Mike’s forehead before joining Jonathan at Will’s side. He can’t be alone when he retells this story, because he hadn’t been alone when it happened.

“We stayed up all night building Castle Byers,” Jonathan reflects, nudging you as you crouch down in front of Will as well. “It was Y/N’s idea to build it just the way you drew it.”

“You loved the idea,” your voice cracks, but you try to hide it so that you don’t scare the boy.

You remember how Will’s face lit up when you surprised him with the idea. He hadn’t left his room in hours, blaming himself for Lonnie leaving, and Jonathan had shown up at your window, in tears as he confessed that he didn’t know how to help Will.

After yanking the teen into your room and sitting him down on your bed, you had told him that Will simply needed someone there for him, to remind him that he was good and lovely and that everything that Lonnie had ever said was wrong.

Later that day, the two of you showed up to the hardware store; two young teens with only pocket change as currency, and you’d bought all the supplies needed for Castle Byers.

“And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering.” The fondness of the memory causes Jonathan to laugh, and you do so as well as you remember just how many times Will had accidentally hit his fingers rather than the nail. “You missed the nail every time.”

“I thought you’d lose a finger, honestly.” You add, which Joyce laughs at.

Jonathan continues. “And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway. All of us were sick for like a week after that… But we just had to finish it, didn’t we? We just had to.”

You squeeze the teen’s hand and lean in closer to Will, sensing that it’s now your turn to speak. “Do you know what my nickname is for you?”

Will slowly nods, his eyes going to Jonathan and then back to you, indicating that he understands he’s your little bee.

“Little bee, that’s right.” It isn’t difficult to reminisce on your favorite memory with the boy, it comes to you immediately. “After we all had gotten the cold, do you remember the awful flu that Jonathan and Dustin somehow got like a week afterwards?”

Jonathan snorts, remembering how annoyed he had been for being so sick for so long. He had missed two whole weeks of school, and you were the one who had to bring his assignments to him and help with his homework.

“That weekend, our moms decided that it made more sense to send Jonathan to my house so he and Dustin could quarantine together, so I stayed at your house and we spent the entire weekend alone. Just you and me.”

You smile softly, the memory fresh and warm like an early spring day. You love Jonathan and Dustin endlessly, but being alone with Will was special. A rare occasion that the two of you always relished in. “That weekend, we watched all your favorite movies and I taught you how to bake the cookies you love so much… You taught me how to draw, and together we were happy.”

Your voice breaks again, the warmth of the memory slightly stings as you gaze into Will’s sunken eyes. Two years ago you had all of Will, his happiness genuine and his heart kind, and now you’re terrified you’ll never have that version of him back ever again.

Jonathan notices your hesitancy and strokes your face gently. “Go on,”

You grab the hand on your face and kiss it, grateful for the strength he’s loaning you. “We–we were almost sad when Dustin and Jonathan got better, because we had enjoyed our little weekend getaway.”

Joyce lets out a shaky breath as she reaches for you as well, her hand landing against your shoulder, a place she has long since inhabited for herself whenever she wants to express her love for you. She knows how fiercely you love her sons, and she remembers all the laughter and joy she heard that weekend within her home, a home that had long since stopped being warm for her.

“That weekend…” You force down the sobs that threaten to spill over. You have to finish the story, to remind Will of who he is again. He has to come back to you. “That weekend, you became my little bee.”

As soon as you say Will’s nickname, you lean away from the boy and try to collect yourself. You’ve said all that you physically can for now, and you hope it was enough. You hope, more than anything, that it will be enough to bring Will home again.

Mike steps forward now, and Will turns his head to him. “Do you remember the first day that we met?”

You notice the tear that falls down the boy’s face, and you lean your head against Jonathan’s shoulder in exhaustion as you listen to his story. It’s one you’ve never heard before, and it’s rare to see Mike so vulnerable with his feelings.

“It was… It was the first day of kindergarten. I knew nobody. I had no friends, and–and I just felt so alone and so scared but–” More tears come. “I saw you on the swings and you were alone, too. You were just swinging by yourself.”

Jonathan’s hand finds your hair as you both listen, and you know he’s thinking the same as you. How finding your person in a world so vast and lonely can bring you to life.

“I just walked up to you and… I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend, and you said yes.” Mike swallows, now diverting his eyes away from everyone. “You said yes, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Mike finishes with more tears, and you walk over to him so that he can hide his face against you. You know he wants to be alone right now, that he hates how exposed his emotions are, and as soon as you’ve wrapped your arms around the boy he buries his face in your chest and softly cries.

You do your best to shield him from the world.

Meanwhile, Joyce tries again to reach Will. “Will, baby. If you’re in there, just please… Please talk to us. Please, honey, can you do that for me? I love you so much.”

Something seems to collapse within Will, he fights back tears as his breathing becomes labored again. For a moment, you think it’s worked, that he’ll finally come back and you’ll have your little bee again.

“Let me go.” Will demands again, and you feel everyone’s heart in the room drop.

It’s quiet for several moments, but there’s a faint tapping that you hear. You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you’re sure that it hadn’t been there moments ago. You look around the room and see Hopper doing the same.

When your eyes meet his, he tilts his head at you as if to ask if you hear it too. You nod, and Hopper looks around once more before he freezes.

“Out,” Hopper suddenly orders, leaving no time for anyone to argue as he flings the shed door open and marches towards the Byers home.

–

“What happened?” Dustin immediately asks as soon as you enter the house.

“We think we found something,” you inform him, pointing to Hopper, who has now sat down at the kitchen table with a pen and paper.

Everyone gathers around him as he starts to scribble a series of lines and dots. “I think he’s talking, just not with words.

“What is that?” Steve asks, lost as to how lines and dots are so important.

“Morse code,” all the boys answer in unison.

Steve leans over you and whispers, “Why do they always do that?”

“You get used to it. Now shush.”

Hopper spells out the letters he remembers Will tapping. “H-E-R-E.”

“Here.” Everyone says out loud.

“Will is still in there. He’s talking to us.” The chief says, looking at Joyce.

Your eyes meet Jonathan’s and an idea comes to you. “If the memories we’re telling him are working, then what about music?”

Hopper thinks for a moment, but Jonathan has already run to his room to grab his stereo and cassette tapes, understanding exactly what you’re thinking.

A plan forms from there.

You, Jonathan, Mike, and Joyce all take turns telling Will stories while his favorite song plays. Should I Stay or Should I Go? Plays within the shed as memories fill it with warmth and Hopper taps out on a walkie everything that Will taps.

Inside the house, the kids, Nancy, and Steve all listen to the walkie and write down the morse code to decipher what Will is saying.

Jonathan tells him about real music, Mike recounts the time Will saved the party during one of their campaigns, Joyce talks about a kind moment from his childhood, and you tell him about the wonderful drawing he made for your birthday. The one of you, Jonathan, and the party fighting a dragon.

“You drew me as a princess and Jonathan laughed when he saw it. Said it was very fitting.” You say, nervously watching as Will frantically taps against his chair. “When you gave me the picture, I think I almost squeezed you to death when I hugged you. It’s still the best birthday gift I’ve ever been given–”

The sound of a telephone ringing cuts you off, and Will snaps his head up, no longer paying any attention to you.

You freeze, now realizing that the music has shut off. Will has to have heard it, and you know he’ll figure out where you guys are. His eyes droop shut and you slowly back away into Jonathan, who grabs you and pulls you even further away. He’s tense, you both are.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Joyce tries to draw Will back in, but he’s starting to pant as his eyes flutter rapidly underneath his eyelids.

“It knows. It knows where we are.” Hopper says as Joyce reaches for the sedative.

With one fluid movement, she injects Will and immediately he knocks out. His head falls forward, his breathing now back to normal. You pull at Joyce so that she faces you. “Did we knock him out in time?”

She doesn’t say anything, and Hopper runs outside while Jonathan and Mike join. The two of you stand in the shed alone, silent, both filled with dread.

Jonathan comes running back in. “They’re coming!”

“Shit!” You scramble to help him untie Will and you and Hopper use your knives to speed up the process. Your hands are shaking, but there’s no time to steady them.

Once Will is untied, Jonathan throws him over his shoulder and runs to the house. Joyce and Hopper follow and you grab Mike’s hand to make sure you don’t lose him. As you run, you hear the familiar screeches of the Demodogs and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

They’re close.

Inside, you take the lead and shove everyone out of the kitchen. “Get to the living room. Now!”

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Steve is at your side now, his voice soft with fear.

You’re about to reassure him that it’ll be okay, to lie through your teeth, but then you see the kids by the windows and groan. “Get away from the windows!”

They scurry away and Hopper steps in, holding a shotgun that he offers to Jonathan. “Do you know how to use this?”

Jonathan looks around as if Hopper has asked someone else. “What?”

“Can you use this?”

While Jonathan stumbles over his words, Nancy confidently walks over. “I can.”

Hopper nods and tosses her the gun before turning to you, “I saw the switchblade earlier. Use it.”

You flick your wrist and extend the blades, doing as you’re told.

Everyone gathers around, with an assortment of weapons, and you get the insane urge to laugh. Of course you’re back here a year later, standing in Jonathan’s living room as monsters from another dimension threaten your loved ones.

Jonathan stands in front of Joyce while you stand in front of Dustin, knives raised to your face. Steve stands in front of you, his back facing you as he wields his bat, ready to defend you and your brother.

You make sure to keep an eye on Lucas and Max, who are to your left, trusting that Nancy has Mike as she and Hopper raise their guns.

All eyes are on the windows, no one says anything as you all wait. With every passing second, the howls and screeches outside get louder. Then, a loud screech comes from your right, and everyone turns around.

“What are they doing?” Nancy asks no one in particular, her voice shaky but her aim firm and strong.

You see the bushes rustling through the windows, and another snarl comes from the other side that causes you all to scream. There’s commotion outside, a series of screeches and thuds, and your body tenses, preparing itself to fight.

Suddenly, the screeching stops, and through the window a giant body gets thrown.

You scream and Steve shoves you and Dustin further behind him, but your brother realizes before you do what’s happened. “Holy shit.”

The Demodog lays motionless on the floor, its body limp, and you realize with a relieved sigh that it’s dead.

“Is it dead?” Max asks, as you all begin to approach its corpse.

“It is,” you confirm, too scared to ask the question of what the fuck killed it.

As Hopper pokes at the Demodog with his shoe, the front door creaks open, and everyone turns in alarm with weapons at the ready. The lock turns, and you feel a familiar sense of static. It’s been a year since you’ve felt the sensation, a year since the girl who could control things with her mind disappeared and left her memory behind.

It’s El.

She walks in, and you drop your knife in shock when you see that it’s her.

She’s grown so much since you last saw her, her hair is longer and she’s gotten taller. Her clothes are all black, her eyes smudged with makeup. Mike steps forward, you see the way his eyes fill with adoration.

You let out a soft cry, all the guilt and grief you’ve felt over the girl finally lifts, and you can breathe again.

She’s back.

El is alive.

-

⌑ series masterlist

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[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

ok like my last ask but opposite

f!greaser who looks all pretty, haunted and scared and the gang + Tim and Curly being attracted to her. She has big doll eyes, low haunting voice- you have fun

Heck yeah I’m thinking like pretty dead girl aesthetic kinda vibes

Ponyboy Curtis

-thinks you’re super intriguing

-liked just watching you and seeing what you do

-he draws and paints you fr

-he just finds you hauntingly beautiful and fascinating

-you immediately stood out to him as a person

-you have super deep conversations with him at night

-looking at the stars with him while he softly kisses your cheek

-has written poetry about you and never showed you

Johnny Cade

-you both met at the lot

-he saw you sitting there, just looking at the fire you’d created

-he saw something in your eyes… sad and beautiful

-you reminded him of himself

-he tentatively walked over to you, and got the strongest urge to hold your hand

-which he resisted, silently sitting next to you as you turned your attention towards him

-with your big doll eyes

-they reminded him of Two Bits sisters only doll growing up, an antique porcelain one, a bit creepy

-you both have a silent understanding of each other that no one else quite understands

Sodapop Curtis

-sun and moon istg

-you were in the gas station, stopping by to grab something quick to drink

-as soon as he laid eyes on you he was pretty much in love

-he loved the way you looked

-people often told him his eyes were something you could get lost in

-but man, they didn’t meet you

-he immediately started hitting on you

-and when you reacted a bit startled and unsure of what to do

-he was like okayyyyy won’t do that again

-but over time his comments made you smile more and more

-until you somehow managed to say yes to a date with him

Darry Curtis

-he was walking to the store to pick up things for breakfast

-when you walked past

-no one else was out this early in the morning, everyone was inside having breakfast or sleeping in late

-but you were strolling through for whatever reason

-and you turned his head

-he noticed the subtle way you flinched

-when he tried calling you for your attention

-and when he finally looked at you he thought you were surely one of the most pretty broads he had ever seen

-something so mysterious yet beautiful, scared yet brave

-he does most of the talking for you, and yall are very cute together

-he’s so overprotective

Dallas Winston

-he was smoking in an alleyway when he saw you

-he whistled at you, and you flinched as he continued with some remarks

-“Well that’s a damn fine broad if I ever saw one”

-you seem uncomfortable

-“C-can you please stop?”

-you say, not much louder than a mouse, flashing him those big, scared, haunting eyes of yours

-it hit him like a bus

-and he did stop

-less out of respect and more out of shock but whatever

-later he approached you still with a cocky grin, but a less… asshole attitude

-you didn’t like him at first

-but he learned to have a soft spot for you just like Johnny

-you guys are so cute, and he’s super protective over you like Darry and Tim

Two Bit Mathews

-when he first met you

-he made a shit ton of jokes what do you expect

-“Damn, Dolly, how do you fit those eyes on your face?”

-“I bet you have some 20/20 vision with those telescopes.”

-“My sister has a porcelain doll just like you.”

-and at first you were a bit uncomfortable

-but shyly started cracking a small grin at his quips

-which boosted his fucking ego my guy

-made it skyscraper high

-you guys are cute together tho

-you always be there to silently giggle at his jokes

Steve Randle

-it was his shift at the gas station instead of sodapops

-and when he saw you he was like whoa

-he would pretend not to care and secretly memorized lots of things about you

-he notices the small behaviors everyone misses

-your flinching, your quiet nature, the way you always paid in only coins for everything

-your pretty brown bag you carry everywhere with you

-one day he asks you out, and you say yes

-you liked Steve quite a bit

-such an awesome couple

Tim Shepard

-ok so yk how you and soda are opposites like sun and moon?

-well you and Tim are opposites like fire and ice

-he saw you whenever he was in the middle of jumping a Soc

-you looked terrified and ran away at the mere sight

-he dropped the soc and instantly ran after you

-which you noticed and silently picked up your pace

-eventually he caught up and asked you to slow down

-you hesitantly did

-you looked up at him with those big doll eyes and he knew he was in love

-you flinched when he tried to grab your hand and he instantly felt bad

-he explained that was only someone who didn’t pay him back for something and he’d never hurt you

-you’re quite wary of him

-but the moment you kinda realized you liked him back was whenever he defended you

-from some creeps saying vulgar things

-you help ground him and calm him and he helps you be a bit braver

Curly Shepard

-you met in detention

-you were getting in trouble for something that wasn’t your fault because you couldn’t speak up for yourself

-and he was in there for lord knows what

-he’s never seen you around before or noticed you

-but now that he does…. Wow

-you look like you belong in a poem

-one of those fancy worded ones he’ll never understand

-you start playing with the paper on your desk, folding it as he kicks your chair you jump up

-“Sorry. Didn’t know you were so… uh- jumpy.”

-“Please don’t do that again.” You say softly, giving him earnest eyes

-he nods, not really paying too much attention to what you said and more focused on your eyes

-when you sit back down, he realizes how much he’s intrigued by you

-he moved to sit next to you, smirking

-over a bit of him trying to get to know you and you ignoring him

-you finally tell him your name

-“Y/n.”

-“Y/n, huh? I like that. It fits you”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

The Bite

pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader

WC: 5K

warning: cursing, vomit mention, steve being hard on himself. yall im terrible at these.

summary: are we out of the woods?

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

ONE MORE CHAPTER THIS SEASON!!!!!!

@alecmores​ i threaten them sometimes ( dont worry)

series masterlist / steve harrington

previous chapter  next chapter

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Realizing that your group wouldn’t be able to outrun the Russians, Dustin snagged one of their transport cars. And with you being a little inebriated, you were thrown in the back with Robin and Steve giggling their asses off while Dustin drove shakily with Erica in the passenger seat.

“Jesus, slow down!” Steve yelled as he bumped into the paneling, a hand keeping him upright. You leaned your head against his shoulder with your eyes closed trying to quell the hurricane storming your head.

“Yeah, what is this, like, the Indy 500?” Robin slurred. “It’s the Indy 300,” Steve corrected. Though Robin was insisting she was correct, “No dingus, it’s 500!” “It’s 300!”

“Shut up!” A harsh snap of your mouth. They were quiet for a moment and you were ready to apologize when Robin said, “Let’s say a million.” And they were back to laughing as idiots.

You weren’t sure how fast Dustin was driving this tiny truck or what its top speed could hit, but you heard Erica yell his name and suddenly the car lurched forward flinging you into Steve and some of the car. Everyone groaned from the sudden impact. “You guys alright back there?” Dustin turned in his seat as he asked. More groaning was his answer.

The door opened with Erica and Dustin waving their arms. “Come on. We gotta go, now.” “Come on! Get out!” “Let’s go!”

“Geez! Can we stop yelling?” Pushing yourself up and grabbing at Steve and Robin to pull them forward. “A little help would be nice.” Irritated that they were yelling but not helping with dragging them out.

You stumbled on your feet, Steve tripping to the ground after you and Robin leaning against the truck. You pulled Steve up and threw one arm over your shoulder to help carry some of his weight. “This sucks,” He whined. “I know, baby. I know.” Arm wrapped behind his waist and moved into the elevator.

Once everyone was in, Dustin swiped the keycard and pressed the buttons. The door closed and hummed to life as it hit speed going up. Steve and Robin were acting like unsupervised children, whooping and hollering giddy. Steve standing on a red moving cart with Robin pushing it side to side. “Hey! You look like you’re surfing!” “Surfing! Yeah!”

You stood beside Erica as both of you plus Dustin just watched them. “They seem drunk?” Erica noted. “Why would they be drunk? (Y/n)’s not drunk and she was in the same room as them.” You stayed quiet. You didn’t feel drunk, you were feeling high and you can tell it was slowly wearing off. 

You stepped forward when Robin jerked the cart the wrong way and Steve fell off causing him to roll into some boxes. She laughed and yelled, “Wipeout!” And giggled like a maniac.

Both you and Dustin rush to Steve’s aid. You check over his head for any bumps, smoothing his hair back and Dustin rests his palm on his sweaty skin. “He’s burning up.” “You’re burning up,” Steve mimics.

“Hold him down.” “What?” Confused by Dustin’s request. “Hold him down!” He repeated as his fingers moved to Steve’s eye. “One sec, one sec, one sec. Steve, Steve.” You held his wrist down, but he still was a lot stronger than you, trying to push away your grip. “God, no.” 

“Stevie, it’s- it’s okay.” Hoping to calm him down. He still wiggled against your hold as Dustin peeled his lids apart and you saw how blow his pupil was. “His pupil is super dilated,” Reporting the issue to Erica. “Maybe he’s drugged.”

You released his wrist to hold his cheeks. “Stevie-” He booped the tip of your nose with a finger, lips pulled into a wide smile. He did the same to Dustin as he snapped his finger at attention. “Steve, are you drugged?” Steve scoffed, “How many times, dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Poking a finger at Dustin’s cheek.

“This isn’t funny, okay? I need to know what they did to you.” Dustin continued trying to get a straight answer. Steve only chuckled and booped his nose again, head rolling around in your hold. His red eyes stared at you before mumbling, “Pretty.”

“(Y/n), what did they give to them? To you?” Seeing as your coherent understanding of the severity of the situation. The pad of your thumb rubbed delicately at the swollen skin of Steve’s eye, “They- They injected us with- with something. All the same thing, but I- I feel different.”

“Are they gonna die on us?”

“We all die, my strange little child friend.” You looked over your shoulder to Robin who sat down and twirled her hair. Her bleary bloodshot eyes and dazed smile, followed by her ominous words brought shivers up your spine. “It’s just a matter of how… and when.”

Furrowed brows pointed to Dustin. “They’re gonna be looking for us up there, so I need you to tell me where you parked your car.” He turned to Steve looking for an answer.

“Oh, can we make a pit stop at the food court?” “I would kill for a hot dog on the stick.” Robin leaned her head back with her statement. Steve just whistled in agreement.

“Once we are safe, all the hot dogs on the sticks you want. Just tell us where the car is parked, Stevie.” Hoping his brain would start functioning correctly instead of shorting out. His puppy dog eyes rounded on you, and you knew that was a sign he did something bad.

“Uh-oh.” He sounded like a child. “Uh-oh?” Dustin leaned in.

“The car’s off the board. They took the keys. The Russians, they took the keys.” Hands grabbing at his empty short pockets. “Like, forever ago.” His bad news was punctuated with more squeaky laughter. “That’s a bummer, right?”

You closed your eyes and dropped your head just a bit. Of course, they took his keys. Clammy fingers tingle your cheeks and brows, sweeping to your ears. Heading tilting up just a bit to look through your lashes and see Steve pouting at you. His long fingers played with the loose, sweaty front pieces of your hair while you tucked some of his light parts behind his ear.

“Are you mad?” A deep and quiet inquiry. You were quiet, thinking over which answer is best for this moment. Your thumb scratched over the growing stubble from his last shave as you looked back to his swollen and bloodshot eye. It made you sting with the knowing sign of tears, you were mad, you had a right to be mad when no one wanted to listen to any of your thoughts about this whole thing. But right now, wasn’t the time to blow up in his face again, you were mad and will wait to have a collected conversation when the both of you are home.

So you tucked your bottom lip under your top teeth as you shook your head, “No, no.” Stroking more of his hair, “I’m not mad, just tired.” Steve stared at you, his hands had slipped to sit on your thighs and he squeezed just a bit. He didn’t look too convinced, but it didn’t matter.

“Come on,” Letting go of his face to grab his hands, “Let’s get up. Almost there.” You had to tug most of his heavyweight forward. He was more stable on his feet now, swaying for just a moment but then signing a thumbs up with a dopey smile.

“Okay, when we get out there we need to figure out a plan home.” Dustin stood in front of the door and he had his hands sitting on his hips. “(Y/n), why don’t you call your house and see if anyone’s there? Since no one was answering my transmission…”

“We were underground, there was no signal where the elevator was. Besides you nerds always have those things on, it gets annoying.” Erica stated to Dustin. He just rolled his eyes.

The elevator came to a stop with a jolt then the doors opened. You felt like a giant weight leaving your shoulders knowing you were back in a public space, out in the open air. Dustin and Erica walked forward and they were quiet, as were you. Robin and Steve were the last to exit and their voices filled the night.

“Holy shit!” Steve exclaimed. “Oh, my God, that tastes so good. Ah!” You turned around just as Robin stuck her tongue out. “Steve, can you taste the air?” They were behaving like children experiencing their first winter snowfall. “I taste it! I taste it!”

You ignored their antics when you heard the gate opening and you saw two guards, dressed black grabbing their guns. Dustin and Erica backtracked for Steve and Robin while you ran to open the door. “Okay, okay, okay! Woo!” Robin is still high off her ass while she and Erica run into the service tunnel. “Why are we running?” Steve asked Dustin as they passed you. You yanked the door shut as you followed behind, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum flooring.

“Where are we going?” Huffing breaths hoping Dustin had a plan since he knew this space better than you.

You didn’t get an answer until Dustin stopped at one door and slowly opened it. Robin and Steve swayed on their feet and giggled quietly. You saw Dustin look left to right before calling the all-clear. One by one in a line. Dustin, Erica, Robin, and Steve with you last sticking close to the dark purple walls, rushing over the patterned carpet. Rounding a corner and seeing the Back to the Future poster, you knew now. Dustin led you to the movies, a crowded spot to hide in.

“Steve- Steve, no that’s! Ugh!” Trying to push your boyfriend along as he scrambled to grab a trashed bag of popcorn. He just hummed pleasantly.

Dustin threw the double doors open wide and you were greeted by the voices of Doc and Marty. “Oh! What did I tell you?! Eighty-eight miles per hour!” Dustin led your group to the front row where there were a few open spots.

He pointed a stern finger at Robin and Steve, “You two sit here.” They complained as they slumped down. “Dude, these seats blow,” Steve spoke around his trash food. “Then don’t watch the movie.” You could tell he was getting tired of babysitting them, a taste of his own medicine.

“We wanna watch it,” Robin argued. “Then watch it!” Dustin raised his voice loudly causing a man in the row behind to shush them, Robin and Steve shushing back.

“Whatever you do, don’t…go…anywhere.” Making sure they got the message. Steve teased back, “Fine, dad.” And Robin snickered at the joke. Dustin didn’t say another word as he and Erica crouched passed people to the other end of the row.

Not thinking anyone was planning to leave during the movie, you sat on the last step and then leaned against Steve’s chair. You winced while wrapping your left arm over your stomach, your adrenaline wearing off causing the aching from your beatings. The booming film score pounded in your head with the bright screen hurting your eyes. Your limbs felt so heavy, that feeling when your body is naturally shutting down for sleep or accidentally taking a big hit of weed.

So before you could force yourself to stay awake and alert, you were knocked out.

-

Loud commotion and flashing lights behind your lids were your greetings as you were being rudely shaken awake. You were groaning and ready to complain towards Steve, thinking you were home and in bed. But instead of home it was the movie theater and instead of it being Steve shaking you, it was Dustin with Erica just over his shoulder. They both shared frantic expressions and when you took note of the two empty chairs you already knew what his question was gonna be. “Where are they?”

You could only open and close your mouth like a goldfish before you abruptly stood from the step and rushed out of the room with the kids behind you. “Okay, let’s split up. There aren’t many options in and out of the closed mall.”

Your sweep of the theater was quick, they weren’t anywhere. And you should be able to spot them easily, they’re wearing sailor outfits in a sea of normal attire. You walked through the exit and into the mall, hands on hips as you scanned possible hiding spots. A hearty sigh while leaning your head back to stare at the ceiling.

Little white dots and artificial stars in the brick building beamed down. “Wow…” The longer you stare the brighter they get, starting to twirl into a cyclone of heavenly light that was making you queasy and dizzy. “Oh, wow…”

Feet sprinted you to the nearest women’s restroom. You were too preoccupied with not throwing up on the floor that you missed the shocked then concerned looks of Robin and Steve. You made it to the third stall and hurled small chunks into the toilet, barely any food in your system at this time it was practically only liquid and dry heaving. Small shakes set into your shoulders as tiny tears stuck to your lashes, abdomen doing mini crunches with your heavy huffing. A helping hand held your hair away from potential damage and their warmth set into your back as they rubbed up and down, side to side, or just in an endless circle.

“Oh, baby.” Your Steve came to your rescue. “It’s okay, just get it out.”

A whimper from your slick lips, “Stevie…” You weren’t sure why you were calling out to him or what you had to say to him. Maybe just wanting to say his name and have him respond, which he did easily. “I’m right here, baby. Right here.” And he continued to rub your back until you were sure everything was gone and you flushed it away.

Steve’s arms wrapped over your stomach and with a gentle tug pulled you against his chest. His chin sat on your shoulder and he tucked his face into your neck, lashes fluttering your pulse point. Your eyes closed in contentment with a pinch to the front of your brow, hands seeking Steve’s on your body, holding onto them like your life depends on it. A clownish frown downturned your lips as you tried your hardest to keep crying at bay, okay with the baby drops falling here and there on your oily skin. 

“Is she okay?” Robin’s rough voice filled the space. Steve moved his head and you copied the action so you could see eye to eye. His eyes swam with such sorrow and pain it made you feel sick again. He reached a tentative hand out, hesitating before brushing the pad of his thumb over your jaw and cheeks. You assumed dark bruises were slowly blooming on your skin after this past hour or two. He then took his pointer finger and softly ran it on the bridge of your nose, flinching at the feather touch.

“No… she’s not.” A delayed reply for Robin and almost a defeated sigh from him. “Baby, oh my baby. I’m sorry.” His mouth twisted into a grimace. He saw them earlier in the night, he was still sober when you reentered the room, but looking at them with just a few inches of space apart…

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Voice cracked on the third sorry, his hands couldn’t keep still. Going to your cheeks then shifting to your shoulders then finding their new spot on your cracked hands. Steve’s fingers slotted through the in-betweens, waffling your hands tight as he pressed kiss after kiss to the tops.

“I couldn’t protect you. I’m a shitty boyfriend.” His eyes are hidden from view by his diary hair. You gasped at his words, “Steven Harrington, don’t ever call yourself a shitty boyfriend. Especially in front of me.”

You shook his hands off and cupped his cheeks to push his head up. He looked tired, defeated and you couldn’t stand the sight of the boy in front of you. You leaned in as you moved his head forward just a bit, a firm kiss pressed to his forehead. Trying to convey too many words into a simple action.

You pulled back and gazed intently into his heavy eyes, “Steve, it was a terrible situation that we were able to get out safely. The kids are unharmed and the drug is out of our system, it’s fine now.”

He circled your wrist, “If we just-” You stopped him with a kiss, not caring that both of you would have a vomiting mouth, just need him to pour your love into him.  A kiss that was nothing like the one from earlier in the day or your first. It was one where either or both of you are tired from the day, your body giving out the second it hits the mattress, contemplating if sleeping in your day clothes is worth the discomfort and if you’re okay with a pimple popping up in a day from not doing your skincare. How your hands still seek each other out in your drunk-sleepy state, Steve still managing to cage you into his chest with his nose in your hair and hand at your hip. Having a mumbled pillow talk about your day if the two of you weren’t attached to the hip that day, puffs of air from noses in exchange for belly laughs. It was a kiss that was being done blind, both eyes closed and searching out the bullseye in the dark even though the map was memorized. Slow, simple, something grounding and normal; just a firm pressing of lips that followed up with a tiny rhythm before it was enough to satiate you for the night.

You ignore the dull throb from your nose, taking care of Steve was more important. “Let’s just wait until we’re home, clean and in bed, before sorting everything out. It can wait a little longer.” Reassuring him, letting him know that you’re not as mad as earlier, but you have more words to speak. He nodded his head and whispered, “Okay,” Then pressed kisses to both of your palms.

The neutral bubble popped with the banging sound of the door. You both turned to see Dustin and Erica at the threshold, Robin behind them, must have slipped out sometime after she spoke. You could tell Dustin was completely exasperated with all three of you for running off and it was confirmed with his firm, “What the hell, guys?”

-

With everyone sober and coherent Dustin worked on a plan to get out unnoticed. Trying to find different modes of transportation to leave the mall behind since Steve was the only one with a car, and he was against the idea of breaking into his own BMW.

“Well, the movie should be over by now. We just blend into the crowd, leave the mall, and… I don’t know, hitchhike home.” Robin scratched her head as she paced.

Erica caught an attitude, “You want to walk…home? Yeah, I’m not doing that.” Arms crossed as she popped a hip.

“Well the buses don’t run this late and Robin has a bike, but Steve always drives her or us home when it’s this late. And he isn’t willing to sacrifice a window-“ Steve cut you off at your claim. “I don’t have the money to fix a window.” “I could talk to Eddie-“ He scoffs, “Munson, yeah, I'm good.” You weren’t sure why this was a sudden fight and it was making you sad and angry again.

“Guys!” Dustin yelled before your argument could be blown out of proportion. “We’re gonna get out of the mall with the crowd and hit the road. End of discussion.”

A sigh was all you gave as Dustin went to the door and took peeks into the lobby. You caught Robin’s eye and she scrunched her brows with a meek jerk of her chin, a silent ‘What the hell was that?’ and you just shook your head, pushing it away as if it wasn’t important.

With everyone walking to the door, Steve tugged at your belt loops to keep you back. You were prepared to brush Steve off, but he spoke first with a mumbled, “I’m sorry. I don’t want a fight.” You thought about just brushing him off, but you didn’t want a fight either and both of you are just cranky at this point. “I know, Stevie. We’re just tired.” Flashing him a simple smile as he squeezed your left hand.

“Lovebirds, come on.” Robin called. Dustin’s head was poking through the opening and he held a hand up, “And…blend.” They moved forward, Steve linking your hands and pulling you behind him.

Your group keeps pace with the people chatting about the movie, Steve keeping his head down and your hands clasped. “Well, shit, that worked,” Erica commented to Dustin. “Of course, it worked. Now we just have to get out of this place  and home sweet home, here we come.”

“Uh, Dustin?” “What?” Steve groaned a bit, “Yeah, we might not wanna go to your house.” “Why?”

Steve licked his lips, “Well, I might’ve told them your full name.” Dustin looked over his shoulder, shocked. “What is wrong with you?”

You came to Steve's defense, “He was drugged. He has loose lips when intoxicated.” You could tell Steve was gonna say something when Dustin just asked, “So?” That made Steve stutter, “So?”

“So, you resist. You tough it out. You tough it out like a man.” Dustin acting like he was the one in that scary room with unhinged Russians ready to kill him, instead of the vents snooping around. Steve scoffed, “Oh, yeah, it’s easy for you to say.”

“Guys?” A single word from Robin. All your eyes clocked on the two men from outside asking and checking IDs. You all stopped and everyone parted to the sides, Steve pulling you closer. “Abort,” Dustin declared. The men spotted your group and started forward. “Abort. Abort.” Dustin enforced as he made sure everyone turned around and pushed through the crowd.

With your hand still in Steve’s, he made sure you didn’t get lost. Feet were halted at the escalators with ropes closing off the stairs. You looked over your shoulder and saw how they were getting closer, so just told Robin to slide down the middle. One by one you each went down, Robin, Dustin, Erica, you then Steve following up the rear.

There was enough time to find a hiding spot the top level filtered out and the Russians took a long way down to the bottom level. Dustin pointed all of you in the direction of the food court and he jumped over the Great Cookie counter. You gave Erica a boost over as Robin crawled on the red countertop, Steve held your hips as he pushed you forward, and you dropped to the floor with him beside you. 

“What do we do?” Erica whispered. Her small chest panting. You weren’t sure if there was a way out, you could hear movement, but it sounded like more than the two you saw so they brought backup and you knew they had guns. If you could go through the back maybe, but still, you were easily outnumbered and overpowered.

As your safety blanket, you intertwined your hand with Steve’s and held it close to your racing heart while holding your breath. Eyes closed and speaking to the angels in your head, wishing for any sign of help coming to your aid.

A car alarm starts wailing and it brings all of you to gasp quietly. You didn’t dare look over the counter suspecting it was a trap. The alarm kept blaring and then you heard a loud crash combined with people groaning. When the alarm stopped and felt like the mall was silent all of you slowly pushed off the floor and over the counter. Russians lay on the floor with blood bleeding from wounds and a promotional car was damaged on its side where it was pressed into the Hot Dog on a Stick counter.

Hearing squeaking footsteps all of you looked to the upper level and hidden in the neon glow of store lights, the kids with Jonathan and Nancy stared from above. A wet hiccup of happiness at seeing your brothers safe and alive, as everyone headed to the closed escalator and climbed down. You were the first to rush over the counter and meet them halfway.

Mike had one of El’s arms over his shoulder as she limped with him towards Dustin who shouted as he laughed, “You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!”

Jonathan and Will both rushed at you and it made you stumble back from their fast impact. It still shocked you that Will was practically the same height as Jonathan, both their chins digging into your shoulders with one arm behind your back. Your arms were thrown over their shoulders and your palms held the back of their heads, tears splashing your cheeks and shuddery breaths as you composed yourself.

“Oh, I’m so happy you're safe. I was so worried.” Petting the back of their heads to calm your shakes. “Where have you been? I just assumed you were at Steve’s.” Jonathan pulled his head away causing your hand to fall to his shoulder. His mouth dropped a bit, his eyes taking notice of your blood and bruises, “What happened?”

“Russians.” Jonathan and Will shared confused and worried expressions at your word. “I’m guessing something equally as bad has been happening above the surface since El’s limping.”

“Yeah, it’s bad. As in bad bad.” Will widened his eyes, not going into detail on what the bad bad was. You didn’t care, you were just happy your brothers were safe and within arms reach. Jonathan looked over your shoulder and his expression hardened, “Hey, Harrington. Wanna tell me why my sister looks to be in a similar state as you? Huh?”

Turning around you saw a sheepish Steve standing close, his hands messing with the bottom of his shirt. He licked his lip and looked at his shoes before backing up, “It’s- It’s my fault. I- I couldn’t…I didn’t listen. Shit, I brought a freaking ten-year-old into this when she didn’t even know. I’m- I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Damn right, Harrington.” “Jonathan, stop!” Automatic backhand to his head, once again mad that Steve and someone were calling him names. They needed relationship therapy at this point.

“Yeah, sorry to interrupt the sweet reunions. But I don’t understand what happened to that car.” Robin, along with Erica were the only ones out of the loop on El and her powers. Not wanting Robin mixed into this has finally crossed its line, there’s no going back after tonight. “El has powers,” Dustin threw a thumb at the quiet girl. 

Robin stuttered, “I’m- I’m sorry?”

“Superpowers. She threw it with her mind. C’mon, catch up.” Steve acting like this wouldn’t be mind-blowing news to Robin who knew nothing about the dangers of Hawkins. Erica pointed at her with new clarity, “That’s El?” Never actually met her, but possibly heard about her from Lucas.

“Who’s El?” Poor Robin. You were gonna point her out when Nancy spoke, in a tone you took a bit harshly. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Again you were gonna introduce her, but Jonathan easily said, “Robin. (Y/n)’s friend.” “And a coworker at Scoops with us.” Connecting her to Steve.

“She cracked the top secret code.” Dustin awarded her. “Yeah, which is how we found out about the Russians. And why we look like shit by the way.” Steve’s sarcasm winning out.

“Wait, seriously? Those were Russians?” Max blurted in confusion. “Some of them,” Erica looked back at them with indifference on her face. “What are you talking about?” Lucas persisted.

“Didn’t you hear our code red?” Dustin questioned. “Yeah. Couldn’t understand what you were saying,” Mike noted. Dustin groaned, “Goddam low battery.”

“How many times do I have to tell you with the low battery?” And you couldn’t help but to bite back the little grin at Steve acting like such a big brother towards Dustin. “Well, everything worked out, didn’t it?” It reminded you of times when Will was just a baby, you and Jonathan little toddlers.

“Worked out? We almost died.” Erica was not happy about Dustin’s look at the situation. “Yeah, but we didn’t, did we?” He sees the glass half-full side. “It was pretty damn close,” Steve added his two cents.

Everyone was busy arguing about the Russians and the gate. You took the time to look at each kid to check them over for any damage done, everyone looking to be in perfect condition. When you didn’t spot El beside Mike you leaned past Steve to see her in front of the next store, her steps slow and body hunched in. You walked away from the group and reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, “El? Sweetie?” Her hands reached up to hold her ears and she turned slowly for you to see the dark red blood sliding down her nostrils, hitting her top lip. Her knees buckled and she fell like a sack of flour.

“El! El? El!” Grabbing her waist quickly to stop her fall. You placed her gently on the ground as everyone crowded around. “What’s wrong with her?” Erica quietly asked.

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked El. Needing to find the root of her problem. She cried, “My leg. My leg.”

Nancy pulled her pants up and Jonathan unwrapped a bloody bandage around her calf. Her skin was stained red, almost orange in the fluorescent glow, with a swollen spot on the top. You held a hand to your mouth, the injury making you feel queasy just looking at it. And to top it off, something was crawling beneath the skin.

“Oh, God.” Muffled into your palm.

El continued to wail and groan, some tears slipping from the corners of her eyes and falling into her hair. “El! El, are you okay?” Mike shook her shoulders as he leaned over her. Everyone was worried and getting emotional, not knowing what was happening and the next course of action to take.

El screamed at the top of her lungs.

-

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*STRIKED MEANS TUMBLR CANT FIND YOU*

[magniloquent-raven]

i wrote this for me but yall can read it too if u want 💖it's just 2k of piercing kink lmfao

(so. cw needles)

"What's this?" Billy flicks a balled up grocery bag aside, plastic clips and crumpled receipts rustling as he shifts the mess around. He's pretty sure Steve hasn't cleaned this shitty little table out since...ever, probably. If he digs far enough he'll probably find whatever crap the previous renters left behind.

Steve flops on his side, wriggling over a cushion to join him, and propping his chin on the arm of the couch. It doesn't get him far enough to see into the drawer. Billy rolls his eyes and pinches the baggie, lifting it high enough to sarcastically wave it in Steve's face.

Needles glint in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Straight, silver, hollow-point needles, individually wrapped in neat little conjoined packages. There's other shit in the bag too, antiseptic wipes in packets stamped with green lettering, weird looking tongs, latex gloves rolled into a nearly unrecognizable blue mass.

Maybe the better question would've been why does Steve goddamn Harrington have a piercing kit?

Steve blinks at it, recognition dawning at a snail's pace. "Oh, that." He folds his arms under his chin, resting on his forearms. His cheek squishes a little and Billy wants to do something stupid. Like. Grab his face. Or kiss the dumb little wrinkle between his brows. "That's Robin's fault."

"What."

"She wanted her nose pierced. And it's, like. Cheaper to just buy the stuff for it, I guess." He blows a strand of hair out of his eyes, and Billy's fingers twitch. "I told her it was a dumbass idea. But it turns out, not for the reasons I thought. She freaked out when I put the needle through. So. Yeah. It was a whole thing."

"Hm."

Billy eyes the kit. Imagines Buckley flailing and teary with a needle stuck in her face. Expects to be amused by her being a giant baby but instead the thought...changes. Shifts. To Steve and his careful fingers, gently preparing the spot, guiding her head to the right angle...

A surge of jealousy hits him in the chest, and the scene blurs, getting less coherent, until—

Cold needle and warm hands, the sharp rush of it, pain and heat and an indefinable feeling prickling up his spine.

Billy fiddles with the silver hoops in his ear.

There's something simmering in his gut. Nerves, maybe, partly. But it's more than that. Deeper. He bites his lip.

"You should do me too."

Steve sputters, a pink flush blooming on his cheeks.

Billy grins at him, all canine and confidence he doesn't feel. "Piercing, Harrington."

"But—"

"Nah, c'mon, we're doing this." He tosses the baggie at Steve—who fumbles, but catches it—and with his newly freed hands, strips off his shirt. He drops it on the floor, not bothered about where it might land.

Steve is doing his best impression of a fish out of water, shallow, quiet breaths the only sound escaping his gaping mouth. His entire face has gone splotchy. It's kind of adorable.

"I don't have all day," Billy prods. He does, and even if he didn't, he'd make time. But Steve doesn't need to know that. "I'm not gonna freak out, if that makes you feel any better. Cross my heart." He draws an x on his bare chest. Steve's eyes follow the motion, and linger even after he's dropped his hand.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Lingering. Looking. It's...interesting. Exhilarating.

"This is a stupid idea," Steve says faintly.

"When has that ever stopped you?"

That gets a laugh out of Steve, the corner of his eyes crinkled as he scoffs and acts offended. "Whatever, man, just don't blame me if it gets infected."

They're doing this. They're fucking doing this. Billy's stomach swoops like a bird in flight.

This is such a dumb idea.

Billy doesn't care.

He sits on the coffee table, across from Steve, who's still half-lounging on the couch. Their knees brush, and Billy feels it everywhere. He's a live wire, tense and jittery as a current runs through him, tingling in his extremities and coiling in his guts. It takes more than a little effort just to keep still and appear unaffected.

Steve eyes him, his gaze wandering up and down. "So. I'm guessing you don't want it in your nose..."

Billy snickers at that, he can't help it. "Do you say that to all the girls?"

"Good idea, mock the guy who's about to poke holes in you."

"No, no, I'm being serious," Billy dissolves into further giggles, "If you haven't figured out where to stick it yet I'd like to know."

"Har har."

"I could give you some pointers."

"Are you done?" The question is punctuated by the elastic snap of Steve pulling on a latex glove. He's trying to keep his expression neutral, unimpressed and unamused, one eyebrow raised and his lips flat, but there's a hint of mirth glittering in his eye and the corner of his mouth keeps twitching. Overall the way he's watching Billy fall all over himself laughing is too fond, too warm to be convincingly annoyed.

That shuts Billy up faster than genuine annoyance would have. He rubs the back of his neck, like he can wipe away the hot flush with his hands, and he ducks his head to hide a dopey grin.

"Alright." There's a rustling noise as Steve digs through the bag. "Um. I gotta." He waves the wipe he retrieved, vaguely gesturing at Billy's chest with it. The kit is clutched in his other hand, wrinkled between his tense fingers.

"What are you waiting for."

Steve inspects him. Silently. Eyes skimming over his chest again, flicking up to his face nervously. "You're sure about this, right?"

"Yes."

"You're really—"

"Steve. I really want you to do it."

Steve lets out a slow, quiet breath. "Okay." He nods, his expression hardening into something more determined. Something that makes Billy want to kiss his stupid face even more than usual.

It doesn't help that the next thing Steve does is put his hands on Billy's chest. He only needed one. Two fingers separated from Billy's skin by cold, damp antiseptic. Two fingers circling the hard nub of his nipple while his thumb brushes sensitive skin underneath. That would have been overwhelming enough. But Steve shifts closer to him, perched on the edge of the couch, positioning himself between Billy's thighs, and skims his palm up Billy's side, over his ribs, for no goddamn reason.

He's not keeping Billy in place, his touch is too soft for that, he's just...holding him.

Billy's insides are mush. Hot syrupy goop.

And his dick is a hard line in his jeans, straining against his zipper.

He bites his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth to keep quiet. It feels wrong somehow, to look at Steve right now, while he's getting off on something that's...it's not the same for Steve. They're not on the same page, and he knows it. But he can't tear his eyes away. He's so close. And so pretty. Even more so when he's concentrating. Dark eyes focused only on Billy. Lips parted just a little.

"Okay, I gotta use the...this thing. Now." Steve tosses the wipe aside and picks up the clamp, clicking it a couple times and staring at it like it's a note written in a foreign language.

"Mhm." Billy does his best not to squirm.

See, the thing is, Billy's the only person who's ever done anything to his nipples. Like it's never occurred to the people he's slept with that he'd enjoy it. Maybe they just didn't care to ask. And maybe he was too embarrassed to bring it up. Chicks like getting their nipples played with, okay. It's...it's stupid that he can't get himself off without one pinched between his fingers. It's weird that sometimes he neglects his cock because he's got both hands up his shirt.

Turns out being touched by someone else is on a whole different level. Touched without a flimsy barrier between them. Touched firmly, with intention. 

He sways forward, jolting a little when Steve pinches, tugs, sending a bolt of heat right through him. He grips the edge of coffee table hard enough to hear it creak.

The clamp is colder than the wipe. Or maybe he's just warmer now. He can feel his pulse pounding, and he can almost hear the blood rushing south. 

"You're being really quiet," Steve says carefully. The clamp is securely in place, but Steve hasn't taken his hand off Billy's chest yet. His palm is a little sweaty, cupped under Billy's pec, his thumb moving absently in circles that make Billy shiver. 

"Is there something you'd like me to say?" Jesus, he didn't expect to sound so hoarse. 

Steve opens his mouth. Closes it again. "Um." He busies himself with rooting through the kit to fish out a needle. "Nope. Just. Usually I can't get you to shut up, so." 

He doesn't have a witty reply. Or even a fucking stupid one. There's nothing in his head but static and a silver gleam. 

"Last chance to back out."

Billy lets out an annoyed huff. 

"Okay. Well. Here we go." 

Here they go. 

Billy's breath catches when Steve unwraps the needle, his imagination already three steps ahead. The phantom sensation is enough to make his dick throb. 

He's as patient as he can be with Steve's hesitation. His lingering a hair's breadth from Billy with the needle's point. His shaky little breath to steel himself. Billy's about ready to crawl out of his own skin by the time Steve finally thrusts in and pierces him. 

As much as he was waiting and waiting and waiting for it, he wasn't fully expecting it when it happened, and it knocks the air from his lungs. One small point of contact is his whole world for the seconds it takes to pass through, one crystalized moment, sharp and shining. And then the rush. The blanket of warmth that settles over him afterwards. 

He doesn't realize his eyes have fallen shut until he opens them again, blinking until Steve's wide-eyed stare comes into focus. 

"I've got the, uh. Barbell. Gonna put that in now."

It's a tricky part. Billy wonders vaguely if Steve actually knows what he's doing, and he finds he doesn't care. He cares even less when he feels the needle move again, tugging, rubbing against sensitive skin. His gaze drops to the little bit of tongue poking out the corner of Steve's mouth, and everything else seems a little blurry. He shifts his hips, just a little, he can't help it. It's not a conscious thought, it's just friction; Steve's clever fingers and the warm scent of honey shampoo are making him dizzy. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, letting himself sink a little deeper into the haze of sensations. 

"There! Done," Steve says it, but he doesn't pull away. "Did you want the other one—"

"Yes."

Steve blinks at him. "You seem kinda…" His gaze wanders. Downward. A little more. And then his eyes widen. "Oh."

He doesn't sound as freaked out as Billy might've expected. He mostly sounds…curious. Which. Is very interesting. 

"Well. I guess I'll do you again then."

Holy shit. 

Okay.

It's different the second time. Steve's different. He teases, wiping Billy clean for much longer than he needs to, circling and circling 'til Billy's squirming, aching, wanting more but unwilling to beg. Every time he shifts his hips a shudder jitters up his spine. His briefs are wet and sticking to the tip of his dick, still uncomfortably trapped by denim.

It's also harder to keep track of Steve's individual movements. Getting the clamp, unwrapping the needle, putting the bag down, throwing the ripped packaging aside. The first time he was hyperaware of everything, anticipation clawing at his patience. Now, he's sinking into a warm bath, he's floating on a cloud, he's loose-limbed and more focused on the hot flush on his chest and the darkness of Steve's blown pupils than anything else.

There's just…moments. The surprised part of Steve's lips when Billy accidentally lets a whimper slip. The needle point piercing his skin. The sudden wave of heat that slams him in the gut when Steve brushes his knuckle over Billy's swollen nipple, the way his vision whites out and he trembles and he fucking cums in his jeans, while sitting on Steve's goddamn coffee table.

He's not sure when exactly Steve finished up, but suddenly he's all too aware that his chest hurts and his underwear is sticky and Steve is looking uncertain again, despite his hand resting on Billy's thigh.

"So…that was…" Steve flounders. Pauses. Opens his mouth to keep floundering.

Billy kisses him. It's one little peck on the mouth. Just one. It's two seconds of contact, and Billy's heart is only racing because he just had an orgasm, okay.

"Thanks," he says, his voice embarrassingly soft. Like that's gonna make everything less weird. 

But Steve smiles at him. Cracks a grin, and then snickers. Because, yeah, sure, it's weird, it was all weird, but…maybe that's fine.

tag list @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you 💕

[f4eism]

you send me swingin'

lucas sinclair x fem!cheerleader reader

warnings/tw: none!

note: i luv lucas <333

watching lucas score the point for his team to win the game was nothing short of magical— you were so proud of him and all of the chants and praise he was receiving. you had the biggest grin on your face as you danced the end of your cheer routine, your heart squeezing at the sight of robin, nancy and steve cheering lucas on too.

lucas was talking to jason as he looked over at you, smiling. making his way towards you, you told your teammates that you were about to leave and that they all did great.

speed walking to lucas with your arms outstretched, you jumped into his arms and gave him a quick peck on the lips. lucas laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist.

"lucas! you did so good, im so proud of you" you put both of of your hands on lucas cheeks and did a kissy face, kissing him again on the lips and giggling. lucas swatted you away and shook his head.

"thanks y/n, you know i shot that for you right? i feel like im on top of the world right now "

lucas started flexing his arms and striking silly poses, wiggling his eyebrows and shooting finger guns. you rolled your eyes with a very unladylike snicker.

"babe you're so stupid its adorable, come on lets go get burgers! im starving."

"alright im hungry too, but let me tell the guys im going with you instead okay? be right back!"

"wai-" lucas kissed you on your cheek and ran towards his teammates, quickly telling them something and giving a small smile and a wave as a goodbye as he started to make his way back towards you again.

"so what was that all about babe?" you raised one eyebrow up and then narrowed your eyes, hands on your hips.

"nothing, y/n. they just wanted me to come with them and hangout after the game ya know?" you nodded your head and walked beside him, grabbing his hand.

"mmm okay, you better not choose them over me. you know my feelings get hurt easily."

"yeah y/n/n i know, geez. you ready to eat?" lucas gripped your hand tight and started to walk outside to the parking lot, spotting robin and steve.

you started to smile as you saw them walk towards you guys, while swinging you and lucas' hand back and forth.

"god job lucas! you did amazing" steve held his hand up for a high five and lucas high fived him at record speed, a cute blush coating his cheeks.

"hi y/n, you did great too" you smiled wide and put your fist out for a fist bump, watching steve bump it back.

"thanks stevie, hey robin you're awfully quiet." robin smirked and held her hand up for lucas to give her a high five, patting him on the back while moving forward to do a handshake you two came up with a while ago.

"performing is tiring, anyways do you two need a ride home?" you looked at robin then at lucas, nodding your head.

lucas spoke up "actually we need a ride to the diner, can you guys drop us off?" you gave robin and steve the best puppy dog eyes you could muster and poked your bottom lip out. they gave in with eye rolls, it worked like a charm every single time.

"thanks yall, i owe you both one!" you exclaimed, giving lucas a kiss and leading lucas to steve's car with your hands still intertwined.

you guys arrived at the diner in 15 minutes, stomachs growling loudly.

walking into the diner into you two's favorite booth, you ordered two burgers, fries and y/f/f (your favorite flavor) milkshake with two straws so you and lucas could share.

sitting down in front of lucas waiting on the waitress to come back with your orders was getting boring, you both were starving.

"im so hungry lucas even your arm looks like a thousand dollar steak right now."

lucas laughed.

"woah y/n dont go eating me now! i need my arms to shoot hoops. among many other things." you rolled your eyes and slumped in your seat a little, throwing a salt packet at his head.

"ow! what was that for?" lucas rubbed the spot the salt packed landed on his face.

"im just sooo bored, im sorry." you weren't sorry, not entirely. your laughs were becoming louder until you spotted the waitress with you guy's food.

"finally!" you exclaimed, bouncing up and down in your seat while clapping your hands with a smile on your face.

"you sure know what to say y/n, thanks ma'am" lucas grabbed a fry and put the milkshake in the middle of the table, taking a sip.

"thank you... lucy!" you read the woman's name tag and looked back up at her with a smile, hoping she would leave soon.

lucy smiled, turning around on her heel and going back to wherever she was in the first place.

"so, how are you feeling right now babe?" you grabbed your burger and took a bite out of it, grabbing a napkin to wipe your hands and mouth.

"like im on cloud nine. did you hear the crowd and how happy people were? god, i would do anything to relive that y/n." you smiled at lucas and grabbed his hand from across the table.

"you were fucking on fire on that court lucas, this was honestly just the beginning. you're gonna win for hawkins way more in the future." your thumb started to rub circles on lucas hand.

"thank you y/n. that means a lot to me. im so glad you were there to watch me. you're the best." you gave a soft "awww" while lucas grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

"i love you, you know that?" you asked while lucas bit another bite out of his burger. you laughed.

"and i love you more. do you wanna share the milkshake or wait a while?" you grabbed your straw and stirred up the milkshake a little bit.

"let's save the milkshake and then take the food to go. im getting tired. do you wanna come to my house and watch movies babe?"

"you know it, let me call steve and see if he can come pick us up okay?" you nodded as lucas went to the payphone and began to dial steve's number.

"yeah okay, waiter! can we get to go boxes and a cup to go please?"

the waitress came over to you and put two white styrofoam containers on your table. you put you and lucas's food in both containers and your milkshake in the cup while grabbing two straws.

"y/n, steve said he's on his way!". lucas began walking towards you, grabbing both containers and kissing you on the cheek.

"today was amazing. you'll always be my number one star baby." lucas smiled at your words and wrapped his free arm around your shoulder.

"always."

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L | F O U R T E E N

You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

masterlist here | final girl playlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader   word count: 6.4 (whoops v sorry) warnings: S M U T (18+!!!) unhinged!reader, tw: gross pervy men, unwanted advances from said pervy men, feral reader, we getting down to it. 

A/N: read the warnings pleaseeeeee. this one is a juicy one I can’t wait to hear what yall think! also just a heads up - a lot of your tags don't work so sorry if you dont get the notification when she’s outtttt x

p a r t   f o u r t e e n  |  f e r a l

The sun was warm on your bare skin as you, Tatum and Sidney squinted up at the bright blue skies above you. It had been a few hours since you’d all scarfed down as much grease as humanly possible from the burger joint in town and now that you were all on the tail end of a tequila-induced hangover, some sun was exactly what you needed.

It warmer today than it had been in a while and as the boys dispersed to throw around a football they’d found buried in Billy’s old things, the three of you decided to bask in the sun on the back porch. Between your chat with Randy and everything else crushing down on you with being at the cabin with all of your friends, you’d barely slept a wink last night - so this, being between Tatum and Sidney with nothing but the wind gently swaying through the branches in the trees and the distant sound of the boys fumbling around in the background, it was enough to lull you to sleep.

Of course, Billy fingerfucking you in the car a few hours prior didn’t hurt. It managed to create just enough melatonin to make your eyes a little droopier than before and your brain silent enough to make the idea of a nap almost possible.

Almost being the key word.

“Y/N,” Tatum’s quiet voice sliced through the gentle breeze and yanked you out of your solitude. “How do you feel about Steve Jameson?”

You blinked beneath your sunglasses as you tried to make sense of her question. Slowly, you sat up on your elbows and glanced down at your friend. “Huh?”

“Steve Jameson,” she rhymed off, popping one of her eyes open to squint up at you. “He’s on the football team. You know, tall, dark hair, green eyes. I think he used to date Jenna Wescott.”

“Yeah, I know who he is,” you frowned. “But why are you asking how I feel about him?”

She gave you a small, guilty smile. “I don’t know, just going over our options.”

You blinked stupidly. Had you fallen asleep and missed out on something? “Options?” You echoed in confusion. “What options?”

She mimicked you and sat up on her elbows. “Yeah, you know, options. As in, you’re way too hot not to be having these boys eating out of your hands, you know? It’s slim pickings back home, but might as well have your fun with them, right?”

It was almost impressive how fast you were able to go from relatively relaxed to internally panicking in a matter of seconds. Nothing about the topic of your love life made you comfortable, not when you were so intricately spun into this web of lies with Billy Loomis.

“You said it best,” you muttered, laying back down. “Slim pickings at Woodsboro High.”

“Oh, come on,” Tatum laughed, reaching over to punch your arm. “They’re not all bad.”

You glanced up at Randy, Stu and Billy briefly before shrugging. “The only three tolerable men at Woodsboro are twenty feet away from us and I’m not about to date Randy. He’s like my brother.”

Tatum grinned mischievously. “Wait, would you have dated Stu or Billy?”

“No.” You answered that way too fast; you knew you did. Sucking in a subtle breath, you shrugged and adjusted your sunglasses. “I’ve known them too long, is all.”

Sid considered your words briefly before pushing herself up into a seated position as she overlooked the boys. Crossing her legs, she leaned back on her palms and cocked her head to the side as she watched them play in silence. “You and Billy are close; you think you guys would have dated at all if him and I hadn’t started dating?”

You were doing your best to remain as blasé as possible but beneath it all, you were shitting bricks. Your heartbeat felt like it was in your throat as you mulled over your answer. Could you trust your voice not to sound panicked? Was it going to sound too high-pitched? Too low? You swallowed back your nerves and lulled your head towards her.

“I don’t think so,” you answered quietly. “Why?”

Sid was quiet for a few seconds as she watched the boys but then her brown eyes sauntered down to you as she gave you a small smile. “I always felt like there was something between you two when we were younger.”

“I think they call those hormones, Sid,” Tatum simply said. “They’re horny men who were once horny little pre-teen boys. I’m sure they wanted to hump anything with a set of tits back then.”

“Yeah,” you pushed out, feeling guilty as sin for lying straight to her face. “Besides, when we were younger, I was convinced I was going to marry Patrick Swayze, so Billy never really stood a chance by comparison alone.”

That was seemingly enough to break whatever tension Sid’s curiosity might have caused as the three of you fell into another contemplative silence before Tatum spoke again.

“So, what you’re saying, is that I need to find a young Patrick Swayze in Woodsboro for you?” She teased. “Because if I find one, I can’t promise I won’t have some fun with him first.”

Sitting up, you gave them a small smile and reached for some water. “If you find a young Swayze back home, I expect all three of us to have a go at him for scientific reasons.”

“I like that plan,” Sidney declared with a gentle laugh. “For science, of course.”

“What about Steve Orth?” Tatum asked with a quiet yawn as she focused on the guys. “He’s kind of brawny in a Swayze kind of way, no?”

You visibly cringed. “Pass.”

“What?” Tatum laughed. “He’s broad and he’s tall and I’ve heard through the grapevine that he’s been sniffing you out for a little while now.”

“That is not the compliment you think it is,” you muttered. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’d rather die.”

“Why are you dying?” Stu asked breathlessly as he, Randy and Billy joined you on the porch. He was flipping the football around in his hands with a shit-eating grin on his face as his eyes swept over the three of you. “What did we miss?”

“We’re digging around for Y/N’s type,” Tatum remarked, grabbing the football out of Stu’s hands to toss back on the grass. “She’s too hot to be on the market.”

“So, you were talking about me, then?” Randy teased, taking a seat on the lounger with a tiny smirk on his face. “I’m touched, Y/N.”

You grinned across at Randy and rolled your eyes. “Shut-up.”

“Your type, hmm?” Billy asked, leaning against the railing of the porch. His eyes, those weighty brown eyes, were scraping across your face in dark amusement. It made every small hair on your body stand on edge. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

Cocky son of a bitch.

“Not Steve Orth, as it turns out,” Tatum frowned.

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned.

“Steve Orth?” That smirk was gone now as he furled his brow. “That guy’s a dick.”

His shoulders were noticeably squared at the mention of Steve and the clip in his tone was not lost on you for a second. Ever since that day where he’d punched him after seeing him flirt with you in class, Steve Orth was the one guy at the top of Billy’s shit list.

Desperate to intervene on the potentially awkward discussion and have Sidney notice her dumbass boyfriend’s lack of decorum, you quietly cleared your throat and pushed yourself up to stand up to your full height.

“How about instead of talking about my sad little love life,” you reasoned, walking past the group to grab the empty bottle of tequila out of the recycling bin. You waved it around with a small smile on your face. “We get drunk, instead?”

“Hear, hear,” Stu stood up and slung his arm around your shoulders. “We’ve got one more night up here, might as well make the most of it.” He looked around the small group and grinned as an idea popped into his head. “I think we passed a bar on the way here, let’s give that a shot tonight.”

“Did you forget we’re underage or did you get hit in the head with the football?” Tatum asked in confusion.

“Had to have been hit in the head,” you teased, slinking out from beneath his arm to take a seat beside Sid.

“Oh, come on,” he clapped his hands together in excitement. “We’re in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere - you really think these guys are going to check for ID?”

“And if they do?” Sid asked.

“Then we leave,” Stu merely shrugged. “No harm, no foul, right?”

“Why can’t we just get drunk here?” Tatum groused. “I don’t feel like getting murdered by some backwoods hillbilly.”

“Yeah, I’m with Tatum and Sid,” you shrugged. “I have no intention of starring in Deliverance 2.”

Randy grinned and snorted like a pig a few times before shrugging. “I’m with Stu on this one,” he kicked his feet out and crossed them at the ankle. “Let’s see some local flavour, shall we?”

“Come onnnnnnnnnn,” Stu drawled out, dropping to his knees in front of Tatum. “It’ll be fun, baby.”

Tatum was evidently not convinced at first, but when Stu leaned in to whisper something in her ear, the small smirk he managed to get out of her was enough to seal your fate. You didn’t quite catch what he was saying, but you heard the word tits and mouth and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, we’ve lost her, Sid.” You stood up to your full height and leaned against the railing beside Billy. “Looks like we’re going to the bar.”

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

It had been an hour and half since the six of you had arrived and of that hour and a half, thirty-eight minutes of it were spent regretting ever listening to Stu Macher.  

He’d been right, of course. The makeshift bouncer didn’t so much as bat an eye at the age of any of you as you walked into the bar, but the attention you’d all managed to acquire the second you’d walked through the threshold was not lost on you, Sid and Tatum for a second.

At first, it was manageable. It wasn’t as though either of you hadn’t dealt with pervy men in the past, but when you’d denied the three shots of vodka offered to you by a middle-aged man with the name Mike stitched into the breast pocket of his work shirt, there was an obvious shift from manageable to intolerable.

Heavy glances followed the three of you everywhere and the feeling of their eyes sweeping across your body was enough to make your skin crawl. The three of you were gathered at the bar, watching the boys play pool from a slight distance in an attempt to distract yourselves from the stares of the others. It was impossible, though.

Everywhere you looked, their eyes were on the three of you. You could tell they were curious, at first, some even looked almost impressed that three young women had wandered into their bar only to sit alone, but the moment you’d turned the vodka down, the tension was overwhelming.

You felt like fresh meat and you fucking hated it.

The one man, Mike, with the yellowed teeth and deep crows-feet, was persistent. After being shot down, he was doing his best to make your stay at the bar as uncomfortable as possible with his ugly leering and every single time he’d walk by the three of you, he made sure to walk as close as possible to the point that you had to squeeze into the worn mahogany of the bar to avoid feeling him brush up against you.

It had become a game to him and his friends and with every passing moment your own anger only grew.

“The next time Stu tries to sweet talk his way into getting me to do anything for him, remind me of this exact moment.” Tatum practically growled as she glowered across at the boys and their stupid fucking game of pool.

Sid gave her a small, uneasy smile but it was obvious she felt as uncomfortable as you did as she looked over her shoulder towards the group of scowling, smirky men. “I’ll kill Stu myself for this.”

With an annoyed sigh, you took a small sip of your beer and managed to catch Billy’s cynical stare eyeing the men. Unlike Stu, who was far too immersed in kicking Randy’s ass in pool, you could tell Billy was at least aware that the three of you had managed to catch the attention of every unsavoury man in that building. And as his dark eyes danced across the room to catch your annoyed stare, you subtly gestured to the door and widened your eyes in hopes that he’d catch onto your desperation.

Your attempt was cut short, however, when Mike appeared beside you.

He smelt like stale beer and body odour and the scratchy material of his work shirt rubbed against your bare arm in a way that sent shivers up and down your spine. He was standing too fucking close and he knew it.

You kept your stare dead ahead as his eyes raked along your profile.

“I can tell you girls aren’t from around here,” he spat out. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek, taste the smell of it on your tongue as you buried your grimace into another glug of beer.

“How?” Tatum grumbled, dropping her voice so only you and Sid could hear her. “Because we’re not related to him?”

You heard his table erupt in mocking laughter from just behind you and felt your anger grow. He was making your skin crawl and your blood boil. He knew he was making you uncomfortable and he was fucking thriving on account of it.

“I think it’s best if you go back to your buddies,” you kept your voice firm, barely glancing across at him.

“You do, huh?” He swooped his head a little closer to your ear and your entire body froze as you felt him reach around to brush his dirty hands against your ass. “I think I’m fine right here, darlin’.”

You were practically seeing red.

“Get your hands off my ass and leave us alone,” you growled, gripping your beer so hard you were sure it was going to splinter off into a million tiny pieces into your palm.

“Hey, asshole,” Tatum nearly yelled. “Don’t touch her.”

He held his hands out in mock surrender but the sickly smirk on his face was revolting. “What are you going to about it?”

For the first time, you looked at him in sheer disgust just as Sid grabbed for your arm. “Come on,” she pleaded gently, “let’s go.”

You huffed out a terse breath and turned to follow Sid only to watch him reach past you in an attempt to reach for Sid’s ass. You could taste blood in your mouth from how hard you were biting down on your cheek but the second you watched him try and manhandle your friend was the moment you saw blood. Felt it boiling beneath your skin like a fever.

Snapping around, you barely had time to register the fact that you’d swung your good arm out to punch the dirtbag square in the jaw. He moved to grab onto the bar to catch himself, but that only resulted in him knocking down a few bottles of beer and tripping over the stool as he tumbled to the sticky floor beneath his feet.

But you weren’t done.

Something inside of you, that red hot anger, was all encompassing. It gripped you and guided you from all angles as you watched him fall back on his rear. You felt like a wild animal. Your heart was beating so ridiculously fast in your chest that you felt as though you weren’t in control of your own body as you lunged on top of him, straddling him as you reached for a broken piece of glass that had been shattered at some point in the commotion.

With your teeth bared, you held it against his throat as he squirmed and bucked his hips against you in an attempt to get you off of him.

But you weren’t budging.

Not with all of that anger, all of that adrenaline, still coursing through your body.

“I told you to leave us alone,” you snarled, applying enough pressure to the shard of glass to cause a few rivulets of blood to seep out of his neck. “What part of that did you not understand you short-dicked hillbilly?”

“Get off of me, you crazy bitch!” He cried out. “Get her off of me!”

You could feel yourself getting pulled off of the man as you continued to grip the shard of glass in your palm and it was only when you were standing on your own two feet that you realized it was Tatum and Billy standing on either side of you with wide eyes.

You knew people were yelling in the background, but you barely heard it over the sound of the blood rushing to your ears. It wasn’t until you were outside of the bar, surrounded by Sid and Tatum, both watching you with concern marring their faces.

“Holy shit,” Tatum’s was the first voice to slice through the adrenaline as your anger began to wane long enough to focus on your friends. “You’re like a fucking superhero, did you see that shit, Sid?”

You blinked and managed to catch sight of Randy and Stu yelling at a few patrons lining up outside of the bar just as Billy was making a beeline towards the three of you.

Sid’s quiet gasp stole your attention as she grabbed your wrist. “Shit, look at your hand,” she sputtered. In confusion, you followed her gaze only to notice that you were still grasping onto the glass hard enough for it to be buried into your palm. It wasn’t deep, by any means, but the blood was enough to make you unclench your hand.

The glass fell between you and shattered on the ground.

“Are you okay?” Billy asked with Stu and Randy on his heel.

“Does it hurt?” Sid asked, concern laced in her tone. Her eyes were glued to your hand.

“No,” you muttered honestly. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine. No, it doesn’t hurt.” You were being ushered towards the car as a few of Mike’s angry friends filtered out, following you towards Randy’s mom’s minivan.

“Is no one going to talk about how fucking bad ass that was?” Tatum asked as you all climbed into the van. You were in the backseat beside Tatum, Sid and Billy were in front of you with Randy and Stu in the front. “She really just said pow don’t touch me! Smacked the shit out of him and the fucker went down! And that thing with the glass?” Tatum was grinning as she replayed the entire thing in her head. “Very femme fatale.”

“You don’t think they’ll follow us, do you?” Randy asked from the front seat. “I mean, this is my mom’s car. If they run us off the road—”

“They’re not going to do shit,” Stu said before sticking his head out of the van as they tore off down the road. “Because they’re pussies!” He screamed.

“Are you kidding me?” Tatum laughed. “Did you see Y/N? That dipshit almost pissed himself, they’re not going to follow us.”

“Randy, do you have any napkins, or something?” Sid asked, still staring at your hand with all of the concern in the world. “Are you sure you’re not in pain?”

“I’m sure,” you affirmed with a small smile. You really couldn’t feel a damned thing.

“It’s the adrenaline,” Billy explained, grabbing the bundle of napkins. Leaning back to grab a hold of your hand, you watched him gently pad the wad of napkins on your palm before mimicking a fist “Make a fist.”

You did as you were told, but your eyes never left his. Even as Tatum continued to talk about what happened, even as Sid continued to ensure you weren’t in pain. There was something in Billy’s eyes that held your focus. It was an odd mix of anger, concern and desire but it was the latter that stole your breath. Maybe it was the adrenaline, like he said, or maybe it was the thrill of feeling that in control over a situation that almost got away from you. You’d taken back what Mike had tried stealing from you and you’d done so in a way that left the man trembling and scared.

You’d never felt more powerful in your life.

“What if they follow us?” Sid asked after Tatum had gone into heavy detail about what had happened after Randy had asked just what went down to incite such a reaction from you.

“They won’t,” Billy assured her.

“But what if they do?” She asked again.

“She’s right,” you muttered quietly. “I rattled him, and his friends seemed pissed. They might, we don’t know.”

The car was quiet for a few seconds before Billy spoke up again. “Would you rather we go home?” He was asking you. Not a single other soul in that car mattered in that moment as his dark eyes found yours. Only you.

“I sure as fuck do,” Randy’s voice was slightly nervous. “Don’t get me wrong, Y/N, that shit was hot, but I don’t want to get bludgeoned by a group of hillbillies because you shattered their ego.”

The truth was, you didn’t feel scared and you knew that was probably stupid. It was stupid. And reckless. And if those fuckers did come looking for a little revenge and stumbled across Randy’s mom’s bright blue minivan, you didn’t want to be the reason your friends potentially got hurt.

“Yeah,” you agreed with a small nod. “We probably should, just to be safe.”

Billy dipped his head once. “We’ll go to the cabin, pack up quick, then we’ll head home.”

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

Billy was on fire.

From the moment he’d seen that creep slide up close to you at the bar to watching you lunge across at him, Billy felt as though he’d been lit aflame. Anger was what fuelled him towards you and that creep, but it was pure an utter amazement that kept him grounded there, watching you hold that shard of glass to his throat.

Your eyes were wild as you held him there, not once breaking contact despite the bastards relentless flailing. You were a feral animal caging in on her prey and Billy was transfixed by it.

The anger that fuelled you in those few seconds, that rage, drew him in like a moth to a flame. There was no side of you, no part of you that had gone untouched or unseen by Billy until that moment. The moment that you unleashed that fire inside of you and let the carnage of it splay through your every finger until that pervert paid for what he’d done. You were a fucking machine, this gorgeous powerhouse of a woman and, while he’d seen little glimmers of it here and there throughout your relationship, tonight was the night that cemented what he’d seen in you from the beginning.

You had a darkness in you. The same kind of darkness that swam beneath the surface of his every pore. He knew that darkness, fuck, did he know it well, so to see it seep out of you as you held that shard of glass to the sick fuck’s throat?

It was almost euphoric.

It took everything inside of him to peel you off of the man with the help of Tatum. The shithead might have deserved to die, but to die by your hand would have been an honour. To have an angel the likes of you deliver the final blow in a room full of witnesses would have been irresponsible.

He was glad, if he was being honest, that you’d wanted to go home. He needed you tonight, needed you more than his lungs needed air, and he knew he couldn’t have you the way he wanted you if you were to stay in that cabin with all of your friends.

He needed you solely to himself tonight, selfishly so.

And by the look on your face as the two of you locked eyes in the back of that fucking minivan, you needed him, too.

You’d all packed and thrown your shit inside of the van relatively fast and within an hour, the cabin was locked up and you were all on your way back to Woodsboro. Every other time he’d left the cabin with you by his side, he’d felt a pang of regret – but not tonight.

Tonight, getting home meant getting you alone and there was nothing he needed more.

Stu and Tatum were the first to be dropped off, then it was his turn. Next would be yours and then Sid’s as she lived closest to Randy. By the time he’d dropped his bag inside of his room, it was just after midnight and by the time he’d keyed the ignition of his car and zipped out of his driveway, it was 12:05. He was wasting no fucking time tonight.

Each and every single time he thought of you punching and throttling that piece of shit, he was rock hard. You had looked otherworldly standing there under the shitty lighting of that bar, but seeing you snap to it – seeing that feral side of you spark to life – it nearly killed him.

He made it to your house in no time having blown through a few stop signs on the quiet side streets and as he parked down the street and walked amongst the shadows that would take him to your house, he couldn’t help but grin to himself when he realized you were home alone.

Wasting no time at all, he walked up your familiar driveway and along the jasmine trees that framed the familiar footpath that lead to your front door. It was a scent he’d never thought twice about before you, but now one whiff of those fucking trees could transport him. He’d bathe in that scent, if he could; sweet and sensual and a little musky. Every breeze that carried jasmine within it, brought him right back to you each and every night.

Raising his hand, he knocked a few times and stepped back.

You answered within seconds and as your eyes swept across his lean frame, the smile he got out of you was enough to make him weak in the knees.

“I’d half-expected you to climb through the window tonight,” you teased, moving over to allow him inside the house. “The first thing I did was unlock it when Randy dropped me off.”

Billy grinned across at you as he closed the door behind him, locking the two deadbolts with ease as he watched your every move. “Pretty girl like you leaving her bedroom window unlocked?” Slinking his arms around your waist, he backed you into the nearest wall and smirked. “Don’t you know what kind of creeps are out there?”

Your response came in the form of a hum as you reached your hand up to give his hair a quick tug. “What if I like the company?”

Your hand fell from his hair down to his shoulder and he caught sight of the gash along your palm through his periphery. It wasn’t too deep, not deep enough to require any stiches, but the reddened area made his cock twitch as images of you wielding that shard of glass resounded in his mind. “Does it hurt?” He whispered, ghosting his lips across your outstretched palm.

You were watching him through half-lidded eyes as you slowly shook your head. “No,” you told him honestly. “Every other part of my body feels like its vibrating, though.”

“Vibrating,” he raised an eyebrow, “I like the sounds of that.”

You smacked his chest and stole a brief kiss. “Is that fucked up?”

“No,” he traced a thumb along your face. And then he leaned in so that his lips just barely touched yours before whispering, “It feels fucking good, doesn’t it?”

He kissed you then. Hard and bruising, with desperation clinging to his every move. He was kissing you with everything he had tonight, every ounce of love and admiration and awe went into that fucking kiss as he pinned you against the wall, desperate to feel you so much closer than this. Desperate to have you feel just how fucking much he needed you.

He kissed your lips, your cheeks, your neck, any inch of you he could, as his hands slithered down the sides of your body. With hungry hands, he gathered the hem of your shirt in his fists, pushing it up your body until he peeled it off of you, leaving you in nothing but a pair of jeans. Your nipples were hardened peaks as he cupped them in his hands, massaging them roughly as his thumbs teased your nipples.

“How did it feel?” He whispered, ducking his head down to capture one of your tits in his mouth. His dept tongue swirled along your nipple, gently at first, inciting a quiet moan out of those perfect lips, but as he bit down, his cock twitched in agony at the guttural sound that slipped out of your mouth. “Tell me, baby.”

“So fucking good,” you moaned out, closing your eyes as your head fell back against the wall. “I was so angry; he wouldn’t leave us alone. He knew what he was doing, he wanted us scared.” Billy bit down again and nearly came as you moaned out his name. “It felt so fucking good to make him feel scared, Billy.”

Your voice was hoarse as his teeth scraped along your nipple. Your body moulded against his own so fucking perfectly, it was a form of comfort unlike anything he’d ever known.

“I needed to make him feel that kind of terror.” You said, pushing him towards the couch as you tore his shirt off. Your hands began to fumble with the button of his jeans and as you managed to yank them down his thighs, Billy kicked them off as he fell back onto the couch.

His dark eyes were on yours instantly as he watched you slink out of your own jeans and thong. God, you were so fucking perfect, standing there in the dimly lit living room stark naked. With desperate hands, he reached for your hands and gently guided you onto his lap so that you were straddling him. He could feel the heat of your cunt, feel your sopping folds, slide against his bare cock as you raked the fingernails of your good hand through his hair.

“I wanted to make him pay, Billy.” You whispered, catching his bottom lip between your teeth. “I didn’t even hesitate. I didn’t realize what I was doing until I was on top of him.”

His hands skimmed down your arms and waist and hips before giving your ass a long, firm squeeze. “That’s my girl.”

Billy craned his neck up to capture your lips as you slowly rocked back and forth on his awaiting cock. You were so wet and feeling you like this, unhinged and longing for him, was doing his head in.

He was about to grab your hips and position himself to slice into you when you began to crawl off of his body. The sudden coolness of not having you on top of him was enough to kill him but as he watched you position yourself between his thighs, looking up at him through those pretty eyes of yours, Billy could barely breathe.  

Your eyes were darker than he’d ever seen them as you settled between his thighs, your lips puffy from all of the kissing. And as your chest heaved with each shallow breath you took, your already pert nipples only hardened more so. Scraping your fingernails up his thighs, you wasted no time in licking your way up from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue around his head as your hand gently massaged his balls.

You never once looked away from him. You were watching him like he was your prey now. With hungry, half-lidded eyes, Billy watched that pretty mouth of yours take him. Slowly at first, but soon you fell into an easy rhythm as you continued to suck him off.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath as his head fell back against the couch. For just a second, he squeezed his eyes shut as you fucked him with your mouth. The hiss that rattled from his lips was loud as it echoed out around your living room. His cock twitched and the precum that slipped down your throat as you swirled your tongue around the head of it made his entire body writhe.

He said your name like a thousand tiny prayers in the hush of your empty house. With long, nimble fingers, Billy tangled his fingers through your hair and squeezed. He knew he was going to come but he couldn’t. Not yet.

Not until he tasted you on his tongue.

His hands dropped from your hair to crawl down the sides of your neck where he cradled your head in his hands. Without a word, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a bruising kiss as he pulled you back onto the couch. Only rather than join you, rather than slice into you like he so desperately needed to, he took his position between your thighs.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this all weekend.” He simply said before burying his face in that sweet cunt.

He was a man unhinged as he tasted every inch of you and, as he looked up at you from between your thighs, that hunger, that wanton need, splayed out across every inch of your face, was a high for him. Giving your cunt one long, slow lick with the flat of his tongue, he smirked as your entire body trembled for him.

You tasted so fucking sweet as he lapped and sucked at your clit. Your moans were whiny and desperate and every inch of your skin felt like fire beneath his as he watched you squirm and cry out for him as you bucked into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around your clit, he alternated between long hard sucks to gentler laps, knowing how fucking crazy that made you.

“Billy,” you rasped out, squeezing your eyes shut. You were close, so fucking close. He could feel it. “Fuck, baby, I’m going to come.”

One more long suck was what did it. He felt your entire body ride out an orgasm that tasted so fucking good on his tongue. You needed this release tonight and he needed to be the one to deliver it, needed to feel you, see you tremble and shake.

He didn’t ease up at first, he never could. He wanted to hear you scream out for him until your voice was hoarse and your body was writhing. But, knowing this night was far from over, Billy slowly released your clit with a tender kiss before leaning up to capture your lips once more.

Again, he joined you on the couch, but you wasted no time in crawling across his lap again, straddling him just like you did to that fucker at the bar. Your eyes were dark, and your smile was dangerous as you gently bumped your nose against his. Reaching down, you gave his dick a firm tug as you lined him up between your folds.

“Fuck me.” You merely said, finally lowering yourself onto him.

You were so fucking warm and so fucking wet, Billy had no hope in hell in lasting a long time. You felt so fucking good, looked so fucking beautiful as you fucked him. Your tits heaved and bounced with every bound, mesmerizing him in a way only you could.

Leaning forward, he caught your lips in a hungry kiss.

His hands trailed from your breasts and down your sides before squeezing your hips. With every bounce, he met you halfway, steering his hips up to thrust into you, slamming into your pussy as you yelped and moaned against his lips.

Slowly, your forehead fell against his. “You feel so good, Billy.” You groaned. “You fill me up so fucking good, baby.”

Something inside of Billy snapped to life in that instance. An almost primordial need bubbled to the surface as he held you there against him. That tension he’d been feeling for the better part of the weekend eased with every primitive thrust.

His mouth buried your moans as he felt that familiar knot in the pit of his stomach begin to tighten. You were both breathless and desperate to be as close to the other as humanly possible as you fucked each other on that couch.  

His hips bucked into yours one final time before he came undone inside of you. He moaned your name out, quiet and desperate, as he bit down on your shoulder. With one last shaky pump, Billy held you there, unmoving. He kissed your lips, your cheek, down your neck, and along the teeth marks now marring your shoulder blade before his eyes found yours through the darkness.

There was a shift in the air, the same one he’d felt the night he’d fucked you covered in your blood, the same one that hung over the two of you when you’d told him you wanted to act out the dream you had about the knife.

It was as though there had been a tarp shielding the ugly bits away from one another, hiding the parts that few people had truly ever seen. But, over time, little slices, here and there, began to show face, eating away at the canvas, little by little, until that darkness, the one that dwelled just beneath the surface, began to take over.

It was an opening, of sorts, tiny little tears that opened up new doors each and every single time the two of you were together. It was dangerous and reckless and now that it was out there, neither of you could get enough.

IM SO SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG BUT HOW ARE WE LIKING IT HEHE

taglist: @wilsonsbuck @mephistopheloser @vacayanon @undcrthcmoon @carlywhomever @vivifruit @iamsherlocki-wholocked @would-not-recommend @marisughh @popcornpoppin @ambria @bubblebuttwade @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ @blackundertaker @knoxdallas​ @marauderssub​ @halloweenscream​ @padf00ts-l0ver​ @jettia​ @lalisala​ @racyreverie​ @onfiretakemehigher​ @rileyloomis​ @twistedinbliss @i-love-scott-mccall​ @viennasolace​ @imrubio03 

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

hear me out [if its not too uncomfy for u]: zora n fem reader convo after she had a failed suicide attempt (angst to comfort)

ofc! i would absolutely do this for you - ive actually been thinking of making a bigger fanfic that's based around the concept of a heavily bitter and depressed reader and basing it around their slow recovery-

and if any of yall wanna know i was listening to dark red - steve lacey and homage - mile high club while writing this

Masterlist<3

warning: mentions of suicide, depression...

Zora x Reader - The Fall

"Why?..."

You sit in your room in the Black Bulls Hideout in the dark. It's night, and your curtains are drawn shut to block out the moonlight, the brightness of it giving you a headache.

You completely ignore the redhead standing at the door, who had just burst in unannounced and unwelcome. You wanted to be left alone and this is what they give you?

He had just gotten back from a mission, tired and irritated, only to be met with the news that you had made an attempt on your life. Apparently you'd spent the last day and a half in your room, not coming out and not bothering to socialise of even get up and eat something. You had told Henry that you needed time to think, and to recover, so he had to make sure that noone could find you with the assurance that he would check on you every few hours to make sure you were okay.

So you have no clue as to how Zora had found you. Maybe Henry was getting worried and lead him to you.

"Tell me, what you were thinking!?"

His eyes are filled with something you can't recognise for a second, a deep sinking feeling clutching at his heavy heart as he looks at you, layed down on your bed and staring at the wall, long matted hair draping over your body and falling off the bed.

You don't respond to him for a few seconds, simply staring at the cold, bleak, grey wall on the other side of the room as you try to think of something to say.

"... 'm sorry..."

"...Is that really all you have to say about it?"

His voice is pained, and you've never heard him with this much emotion in his voice before, yet you show no outward reaction other than the slow tears that well up in your waterline, building up and collecting in the inner corner of your eye to be blinked away, the warm trails running over the bridge of your nose and soaking into the bed beneath you. It's so quiet in here you can practically hear the tears hitting the pillow in a soft patter.

The way you are right now, Zora only sees a shell of the person he used to know.

"Come on... Talk to me! What the hell were you thinking?!..."

Your soft sniffle is what interrupts him. You just feel so defeated and deflated. Like all purpose and meaning in your life had just been pried from your fingertips when you were so close to getting better. And, God, you were so close...

"He doesn't remember me."

That catches the redhead off guard. What the hell were you talking about? Oh. No. He knows now. And he instantly lets out a melancholy sound, like a grieved moan. There's a heavy weight in his chest and he felt how his heart dropped into his stomach at your words, gutted for you, and genuinely mournful. There's so much understanding in just that sound alone, so much empathy.

"He doesn't even remember me. Everything i did for him. To get to him. To catch up with him... And all this time- I was nothing to him. I wasn't even a stranger to him. I devoted everything i had to revenge - getting back at him for leaving me behind... What a fucking joke."

"..."

Zora has absolutely no clue what to say in response. You're a ticking time bom right now, ready for all of that heartache and crushing hopelessness to bubble into anger and hatred, and he needed to say the exact right thing to make sure that that didn't happen.

"You can kill that asshole another time. You'll have your chance to give him a reminder. I promise you that... But he was never worth your life. And you gotta be smart enough to realise that none of us are willing to lose you, you idiot.

Plus, if you die now, all you'll ever be is one of his failures. You'll be forever immortalised as his mistake. But you can do so much better than that. And you can bet your ass we'll be backing you every step of the way. So come on and get up out of bed already, enough pouting."

He knows that a little motivational speech fuelled by spite will get you going, he only hopes that it'll be enough after what happened. You were so lost in despair, he almost doesn't know if he brought you back out or not, and whether you're willing to keep on.

But his worries are eased as he sees a little bit of life spark in those eyes when you look at him, and he's gives you a delighted, shark-toothed grin as the corner of your lips twitches into a small and delicate smile, vulnerable and open.

"We're right here with you, and we'll stay that way for every step you take."

His expression softens as he looks at you, ruffling your hair slightly and ignoring the pang of his heart when you lean into his touch.

"Come on, gremlin, time to speak with the family..."

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

You Were There || Nancy Wheeler

FANDOM: Stranger Things

PAIRINGS: Nancy Wheeler x Fem!Harrington!Reader - [as always, reader is adopted!]

REQUESTED: Can I get a Nancy Wheeler x Reader in which the reader is Steve's sister and comforts her after Nancy and Steve break up? Thanks!!

A.N: As always, yall are related through adoption cause inclusion <3 also this started as a fictober from LAST year and I picked it up again and just put in a different prompt and already this ask was old. So this request is like at least 3 years old oml im sorry. Lmao i mean,, hey that's my thing. I may usually take an ungodly amount of time but unless I specifically seek you out and tell you I've given up your request, I get it done eventually💀💀💀💀

FICTOBER PROMPT 22: "No promises"

WARNINGS: implied smut but not really since I'm a terrified ace 🤙

SEQUEL: You Weren't There

Being the sister of King Steve Harrington was in no way boring, he made sure of that. Ever since you were welcomed home in diapers, you clashed at every turn. Everything was a competition, every meal at the dinner table was a fight to the death for the last plate of food, and fridge space was sacred territory to earn. It was neither your fault or his of course, but your father's; Mr. Harrington. A rather cold man, with unflinchingly rigid rules and standards for his children.

And yet, despite this and against all odds, you and your brother were shockingly close. The universe seemed to push you two together no matter how much you tried to stretch apart, and by the time you guys reached high school, you both stopped trying.

You were there when Steve attracted the attention of Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins and the rest of Hawkins High with his basketball skills. Girls started noticing him, the scummiest of guys would try to saddle up with you to get closer to him, or vice versa. Not that you let it go anywhere.

You were there, watching hopelessly as your brother's new craptactular choice in friends sucked him into this weird douchey bubble of popularity. This dragged you in by association but you never gave the nauseating duo the time of day or anyone else for that matter.

And you were there when Nancy Wheeler, an admittedly adorable and frustratingly sweet sophomore came into the picture. She had taken to your brother quite quickly as he had her, much to your frustration. You didn't quite understand it at first. Why it infuriated you so. Every time she became a blushing, giggling mess around Steve and not you.

And it wasn't until that fateful November night on your back porch that things began to change in many different ways. The unforgiving autumn air clashed with the tepid temperature of your pool creating an eery blanket of steam that floated across your backyard. The air wreaked of chlorine and cheap beer, and breaking through were the echoes of Carol Perkins's shrill laugh and your mother's stereo blasting Modern English's I'll Melt With You.

Your parents were out of town for all the wrong reasons and instead of getting a nice quiet night in you were stuck as a sixth wheel at Steve's little party. You sensed Nancy's friend Barbara Holland was having just as much fun as you were, so you tried to make nice but it didn't take. She seemed much too sour from how Nancy was acting and you suspected she didn't quite trust you yet given your status and affiliation with the boy who was stealing away her best friend. So you stopped trying. And much to your surprise, your eyes found Nancy more and more as the night stretched on.

And your heart sank into your stomach when she disappeared upstairs with your brother.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

You were there once more when Steve began to doubt Nancy's loyalty. When Tommy and Carol began to feed your brother's head with lies that turned him into someone you didn't recognize.

You were there to smack some sense into him when you found what he and his 'friends' had graffitied on the Hawk Theater.

You were not there when Steve reflected on your words, recalling how miserable he had been since he had welcomed these people into his life. And you weren't there when he told Tommy and Carol off, ditching them to apologize to Nancy and Jonathan.

When he rushed to the Byers house, still bruised and bloodied as he pounded his still raw and bleeding knuckles on the front door, the person he least expected to answer the door was Nancy.

"Wait-- Nancy? W-what are you doing here?"

His eyes flew past her shoulder, doing a double-take, and then bulged when he saw the boy he had come to apologize to, was handing a giant knife to his sister.

"Hey-- Woah, woah-- wha...?"

"Steve, get out." Nancy seethed. Her voice was low and demanding, a fierce expression on her face that hid the fear in her eyes. "Now."

Steve shook away whatever idea was burrowing into his head, knowing he didn't have any room to mess up with her again.

"You know what? I don't care, I just-"

"Steve--"

"I just, I messed --" he hit the doorframe repeatedly in frustration with himself. "I messed up! I messed up!"

Had it been any other day, you would have been proud of what your brother was doing here and now. Just as much as you'd be a little bit crushed when you saw Nancy visibly softening, only a little given the circumstance, at his apology.

"I just, I wanna make things right,"

Unfortunately, Steve had a knack for poor timing these days. He only picked the very moment you and your new friends had just summoned an inter-dimensional monster to wise up and do the right thing.

Better late than never, you supposed, given he turned out to be a huge help in the long run. Pretty damn decent with a bat though, and you turned out to wield some pretty mean kitchen knives.

You'd think monster hunting with your new gang would be a one-time deal. Nope. Cause guess what?

Yet again, you were there when the monsters returned with a vengeance. It didn't start all at once, not as much it had the first time around.

It had been smooth sailing for months. At least, for Steve and the girl you feared you had fallen in love with. They had reconciled, and while you were happy Steve was back to his old self, and that the two were happy, well... Is it so mean to say they were maybe a little too happy? You definitely could have done without the late-night visits. It always involved last-minute walks around the block on your part when things got a little too fun and it only shattered your heart when it happened.

You were there -- unfortunately-- when their activities ran a little longer and it was too cold to go for a walk. You'd have the TV blasted at full volume, the only indication they had finished was when Nancy came down in your brother's tee-shirt and boxers to get a glass of water or a little snack.

Her cheeks would flush an adorable pink, and she'd do that stupid cute thing where she grinned bashfully at the floor. And despite her shyness, and your discomfort with everything going on you two would almost always end up talking long into the night about anything and everything.

She'd go on about some teacher she had been trying to please at school, and you'd laugh from where you sat next to her at the breakfast bar, and say to her something about how to survive whatever hellish class she was in. Then you'd go on about college applications and how much pressure your dad was putting on you and Steve to be the best, and in turn, she'd smile and jump at the chance to help. She'd then confide in you about her growing guilt with Barb's death, and you'd cup her trembling hand and tell her you'd be happy to help in any way.

Cause you were, just as much as she was to help you. Nights like these became more and more common, and as they did, you allowed yourself to notice she was spending less and less time with Steve. You became the rock — her rock and it tore you up how happy you were to have that privilege.

She was there. She was there when you realized you had completely fallen for Nancy Wheeler.

And you were there when she fell out of love with your brother.

As the anniversary of Barb's death crept closer, you could see the toll it was taking on her. Any mention of Barb or even anything her mind could connect to her late best friend sent her into a panic attack. Poor Steve wanted to do anything and everything to help her, but he just didn't know how. You tried to convince yourself you were doing this for Nancy's sake, and you weren't being a selfish girlfriend stealer but you just knew. You just knew how to make Nancy better — how to help her.

You were there.

You were there when it happened. Nancy came to you, stiff as a board and eyes drifting out into the distance as she tried to collect herself. And when you asked her what was wrong, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder she burst into tears and swallowed you in a hug.

She and Steve had gotten into another fight, and by the sounds of things, they were over. You hated to say you had seen this coming, maybe because you knew on some level you had secretly, selfishly been hoping for it. Or maybe because the more time marched on from that horrible night, the less they saw eye to eye. The guilt of Barb's death was something you feared would eventually destroy her.

You were there to pick up the pieces.

"Nance, you're being too hard on yourself,"

"But I'm not, Y/n!" She wept, picking her tear-stained face up from her palms to look at you. She swayed slightly under your touch, your arm tucked over her back and rubbing circles across her shoulder blades. "That night, she told me — she asked me to leave with her and I didn't. I could have been there, I could have stopped-"

Another heavy and sudden sob escaped, interrupting her own words and you sternly shook your head.

"No, Nance, you just don't know that. You don't know that, okay? Listen to me," surprised by your sudden shift in tone, she quieted, her wide eyes peering up at you and making your heart skip a beat. "Yeah, alright. She asked you to leave with her. She even told you told she didn't want to go, right? But you didn't, and you did. And you can't change what happened but, was it your fault that monster was loose?"

"...no, but--"

"Did you know it was out there when you told her to leave? Or that it even existed?"

"Of course not, but--"

"But nothing, Nance," you plead, your tone begging and hand laid delicately on her forearm. Begging her to see the Nancy you saw, hoping by some chance to pull her out of the pit you were beginning to fear you'd lose her to. "You never intended-- you never could have predicted what could have happened. Fight or not. And, you should have your best friend here with you today. But you don't, and that is something I can't make better, no matter how much I want to,"

Nancy sniffled. She hastily swiped at her nose and leaned into your embrace, dropping her head on your shoulder as you two sat together on a bench in the park.

"What happened sucks. But you know what? As terrible as it sounds, some good things came out of that night too,"

She gave you a pathetic scoff and peered up at you with puffy blue eyes. "Like what?"

"Well," you began, your eyes drawing out of the park. Autumn was quickly settling in, the very trees around you set ablaze in color. The wind picked up and carried a breeze that swept over the two of you, prompting you to draw her in closer to your side which she eagerly accepted. Keeping an eye out for any prying ears, you kept your voice low as you continued. "For one thing, if you hadn't gone looking for her you probably would have never found out about the Demogorgon. At least, not in time to learn about it and warn the others. We wouldn't have been able to team up with Jonathan and it might have been there waiting for the chief and Joyce when they went for Will. And,"

"-they might not have made it back,"

"And Jonathan might not have his little brother. Or his mom..."

There was a beat of silence. One carried away with the sound of a child laughing not too far in the distance as his older sister chased him into a pile of leaves.

"But we don't know that. That's all... speculation."

"Maybe. But it's something to think about." You say, gently prodding her knee with your own to grab her attention. "You know what else might not have happened?"

Nancy took a deep inhale, welcoming every prick of sensation the cold air brought to her lungs as she propped her chin up on your shoulder. You considered it a victory when you realized she had stopped crying. "What?"

"We might not have become so close,"

To your surprise, a tiny chuckle broke loose. "Yeah right,"

"I'm serious," you smirk, giving her knee a gentle and playful nudge with your own. "Saving the world tends to bring people together,"

"I would have found my way to you one way or another," she says mindlessly, eyes lost in the trees as she hugs your arm for warmth. But you were looking at her now, your heart skipping a beat. It seemed only now to have hit her, and she can barely look you in the eye before erupting into a blush and shaking her head. "I mean- you know..." her smile fell at what she said next, taking yours with it. "with Steve and I..."

"Right,"

Just like that, everything changed. The spark of playfulness that had just begun to kindle was snuffed out and left in you both in the cold. Her relationship with Steve had just ended. She didn't need you swarming around her dead relationship like some vulture, and neither did your brother. You loved them both. And you couldn't ever bring yourself to force anything.

The thought to leave was tempting. And the beginnings of an "It's getting late" were jumping off your tongue when Nancy Wheeler changed everything a second time.

"You're right though,"

Her eyes were wide and glassy but a firey force of determination burned bright within them as she clung to you like a life preserver. Her voice was tight and rushed like she was ripping the bandaid off before she could even register any more potential heartbreak that might follow. But she knew she had your permission to continue when you relaxed back into the bench, your concerned gaze fixed intently on her. A very vulnerable, two-inches tall Nancy who was summoning all her courage into getting through the next few minutes unscathed. A Nancy who was only just now fully embracing a side of herself she had been pushing back, a confession not only to you but to herself.

"It wouldn't have mattered," she mutters in realization. Another sniffle tore through the silence left in hesitation, neither of you sure if it was due to her crying or the crisp weather. "I still would have spent my days with Steve. I still would have... thrown myself into his world. Blindly. And it would have been fun — it would have been... exciting," she smiles bitterly at herself and shakes her head, unable to meet your eyes.

Tears spill from her eyelids, racing down her pinkened cheeks and this time she doesn't wipe them away. It isn't until she regathers the courage to return your gaze that she clears the path for more with the quick swipe of her hand.

"but I still would have been lonely. I still would have been living this perfect, hallow life. I still would have been left feeling..." her eyes wander in a haze, lost for words until she notices your breath twirling in the air as it turned to steam. "cold."

You looked down at your hand when you feel her own reaching sadly for yours. You let her take it, watching as her fingers entwined themselves with yours; searching out your warmth and giving you what little she had.

"And I still would h- I still would have found myself awake most nights. Wondering when I'd get the excitement back. Wondering if I'd get that warmth. And I still would have found my way downstairs and," the corners of her lips hooked into a small smiled at your intertwined hands. "and I still would have found it. I still would have kept coming back. Every night. Cause you were there. Cause those late nights in the kitchen with you were more exciting, more thrilling, more warm than anything I had with Steve. And I was... terrified. Terrified to admit that--"

Another laugh broke loose faster than the last, cutting off her own words. It was bitter and victorious all at once; like she had finally triumphed over something heavy inside her. And she had.

"that all this time I had been with the wrong Harrington."

Her eyes were on your lips in the seconds it took you to entangle your hand in the back of her hair and guide her forward into a long-awaited kiss. You could feel her shock at first, but your heart melted and exploded all at once when you felt her kiss you back. Her first instinct was to pull you close; her hand reaching for the nape of your neck only to pull back along with you at the sudden contact of her cold hand meeting your skin.

Her forehead rested against yours as you both broke apart, allowing the lingering heat of the kiss to fill your hearts. No, not heat. It was warmth.

"I-I'm sorry," she says, pulling herself - even her icy hands - away from yours and glancing up at your neck.

You quickly shook your head.

"No, no. Don't be sorry, I'm the one who--" it was your turn to scoff at yourself, and you did so shaking your head. "who just kissed you. Hours after your relationship fell apart. With my brother." You closed you eyes and let out a harsh sigh.

"Hey," Nancy eased, gently pulling you away from planting your face in your hands. "It wasn't like that and you know it. I'm..." despite the pain lingering in her heart for Steve she couldn't deny what she felt with you. "I'm glad you did."

You felt it again. Her fingers traced the back of your hand, asking permission to lace within yours and you gladly gave it. The two of you held onto one another like a lifeline, and when she looked deep into your eyes it was only confirmation every word she had spoken was true. And your heart soared.

"I'm willing to see where this goes if you are," she said, and again you felt your heart shatter and melt all at once with guilt and pure joy. For so long this was all you had wanted. This was all some twisted wish fulfilling itself at the cost of Steve's happiness. At her's. The thought of her having second thoughts down the road was a whole other door you didn't dare open. You opened your mouth to speak your concerns but she had already beat you to it. "But I think we should take things slow. I don't want to risk whatever this could be. And... I need to focus on other things right now. But I don't want to do any of it without you."

A single streak of that warmth was now leaking through and racing down your cheek and reaching your smiling lips. All you could do was nod.

"I'd really like that,"

It was the first time all day she had shown you a real, genuine, toothy smile. And it was her turn to pull you in for a kiss. It was soft and sweet and reminded you of her.

Pulling away, you took the opportunity to rest your head on her open shoulder. Not moments after, you felt her head rest over yours in turn and you drew in on long, shaky, blissful breath,

"You know eventually he will find out," and released an uneasy sigh. "I don't know what I'll tell him."

"We can tell him together. When we're ready."

"And if he doesn't take it well?"

"It will definitely take him some time," she says, and you feel her head shift on yours. She was looking back down at your intertwined hands. Not in doubt but reassurance. "I mean, hell, I'm gonna need some time... But it's Steve. I can see him staying mad at me, but never you. You're too important to him." You smiled at that. "But I have a feeling we're all gonna be just fine, we'll figure it out,"

You gave her hand a thankful squeeze as you sat in comfortable silence. It was always common between you two. Even on the nights you two had sought each other out. And like your brother, your horrible sense of Harrington humor and timing kicked in.

"As long as there are no late-night talks between the two of you," you quipped without thinking. You winced, hoping she had detected the total playfulness in your tone, directed only at the complicated history the two of you were currently weaving.

The split-second silence would have frightened you had it not been for the slight movement of her laughing. "No promises,"

Biting back your smirk, you softly elbowed her and she laughed at your soft, 'ah hush,'.

And as your laughter slowly faded away to wistful simpers, both your eyes simultaneously fell to your intertwined hands. Releasing your hand, she opened her palm to reveal a long jagged scar, and watched as you mirrored her actions to reveal your own. They were the scars left from the night you, Nancy, and Jonathan had summoned the Demogorgon. The day Will Byers was found — the day Will Byers came back to life.

The first night Nancy truly realized. You were there.

[sunflowersoldat]

All is Fair~ In Love & Luck

Chapter 5: All is Fair in Love & Luck

Previous Chapter

Main Master List

Series Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under pressure?

Series Warnings: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.

Chapter warnings: 18+ Only! Bad language words, angst, plans of assassination, blood, light smut (on top of the clothes stuff).

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

Word count: approx. 5.8K (sorry this one is a doozy)

A/N: This took me way too long to write lol. I really hope yall enjoy it! feedback is always welcome, let me know your favorite part. Things are about to get really dicey really quickly, so enjoy the semi-calm we have.

You formally met the rest of his ragtag family at dinner, it was odd to see how everyone interacted. They were genuinely a big family, unlike how your father and brother ran their business. Only Nat, Pepper and Happy were considered anything more than foot soldiers, or even allowed at the family table.

After dinner you and Steve went out on a small walk around the estate, hand-in-hand as the sun was setting over the forest, its light casting a peachy glow over the sky, giving way to the deep navy of the night sky flecked with glistening stars. 

The two of you walked in a comfortable silence, as he led you around the front of the mansion, the circle-drive came into view, sitting in the glow of the sunset was a beautiful black motorcycle. As the two of you approached, Steve released your hand, “Have you ever ridden?”

Glancing up at him, you smiled wickedly, “A motorcycle? Yes.” getting closer, you admired the old bike, tracing your hand over the genuine leather seat and the gleaming body. “A 1942 Harley-Davidson liberator? She’s beautiful.” you looked up at him again, his sapphire eyes sparkling as they watched your every move. “Is she yours?”

He nodded slowly, “She is. She was a gift from my mother when the mantle was handed down to me. She and my father collected vintage cars, most of which I didn’t keep after they passed. I didn’t really have a need for them, but this one…” he took a deep breath, “It’s special.”

Walking closer, he swung one leg over, settling on the leather seat, offering you his hand, “Care for a ride?”

You placed your hand in his, gently straddling the seat behind him, he gazed back at you, as the engine rumbled to life. The low grumble sending vibrations through your body, he pulled your hand around his waist, settling it there he tapped it, “Hold on tight Angel.”

The ride was peaceful, with the brisk Autumn breeze nipping at your skin and through your hair. Burying your face into his neck, arms tightening around his waist as he drifted around a curve a little too fast, before pulling into a quiet lakeside grove. “What do you think?” his soft, timbre voice cut through your thoughts, 

“It’s beautiful.” Your eyes are glued to the serene landscape around you. A small dock leading out over the lake, a small secluded cabin on the other side.

He chuckled, swinging off the seat, “I was talking about the chaos at the mansion.”

“Oh, right…” you felt your cheeks heat, “They’re great! They treat me as if I've always been here. I see why you are so protective of them. They truly love you. It’s not just respect, you’re their family.” 

He sighed, “They’d follow me to hell and back, shit a couple of them have…” he stepped closer to you, lifting your chin with his knuckle, “If any of them make you feel bad or–”

You shook your head, “Steve. You are their family, they are just as protective over you as you are of them. Anything they do is just to keep you safe…” you sigh, grabbing his hand, “Trust me I more than understand.”

He brushed his nose against yours, “They love you, if they don’t already, they will. I have no doubt about it.”

You weren't too sure about that, Bucky seemed to have a vendetta against you, and you weren't sure how to fix it. Your stomach churned, a slow realization dawning on you. After the mission was over, it wasn’t just killing Steve, or creating chaos. You were destroying a family. They would surely attempt to seek revenge… What a waste of potential. 

You looked at him curiously, you couldn’t quite figure him out, this man who was supposed to be terrifying, was anything but. He was soft, kind hearted, you couldn't imagine him hurting even a fly, but there was something there. Lying just beneath the surface, it set your instincts on fire. The alarms in your mind told you not to trust him, not to push him, yet you wanted to. Something about this man made you feel calm, but at the same time made fire erupt under your skin. 

He turned to you as he rummaged through the saddle bag, pulling out a bottle of wine with two glasses, and a small container of strawberries. He lifted them, “Courtesy of Wanda.” giving you a small smile, he began to walk towards a nearby tree. 

Rolling your eyes you followed, he wasn’t the spontaneous type, every part of his day meticulously planned, “Do you always plan everything?”

Giving you a lopsided smile, he shook his head, “Not everything. Some things are spontaneous.” he lifted the full glass of wine to you, taking it you raised a brow, “Oh, so you didn’t plan on coming out here?” you teased, settling down on the grass next to him.

He chuckled, “Okay tonight was planned. But I have made spontaneous decisions.”

You lifted your wine, taking a sip, “Like what?” You challenged, not believing him.

He looked out over the calm water, thinking, “You.”

You scrunch your brows, “Me?”

He pursed his lips, eyes glued to the glassy lake, “When I saw you at the casino and jumped into the elevator, I didn't have a plan. I just hoped.” he placed his empty glass onto the grass, his calm eyes finding yours, you took a long drink of your wine, “I saw you, and all logical thought left my mind.” a sad smile pulled at his lips, “I’m a very strategic man, Angel, there isn't much I do without a reason, much like your brother…” your eyes snapped to him, “But, you.” he grabbed your wrist, guiding you to straddle his hips, placing a soft kiss to your wrist, before plucking the almost empty glass from your hands.

Cradling your face in his hand, he lightly traced his thumb over your cheek, “You… You were the wildcard, I wasn't expecting anyone to play. You materialized out of thin air…” his forehead met yours, “You’re heaven sent, Angel. Something I’ve been searching for…” his thumb softly traced your wrist, “for a long time.” 

Your heart raced in your chest, squeezing your eyes shut before gently pulling away, you took in the scenery around you. The sun was gone now, the soft light from the moon above illuminated the silent grove, the occasional twinkle of fireflies flickered around you. 

This. This is what you had wanted, the whole reason you wanted out of the business. You had given your resignation, you were ready to find your place in the world, to settle down. That was before the accident, before the gala, before the new assignment, and before him. 

He was the wrench thrown into all your plans. The real wildcard, a card that wasn't meant to be played. Family heads were off limits, placing a bounty on their head was against the rules. For the dealer to accept one was unheard of, the offered amount must have been ludicrous. Something wasn't right, and you knew it, but it wasn’t your business, your assignment was to gain intel, and kill him when the word was given. Nothing more, nothing less. You had to finish your mission.

He pulled you back down to him, lips capturing yours, the kiss building, the passion implying he wanted so much more from this, not just this date. He wanted more than you were able to give him. And it hurt deep inside, beneath it all, beneath your pride and insistence this was only a mission.

You could feel him holding back, the corded muscle under his skin, taught, ready to snap. You smirked to yourself, the beast within, the one you’d heard so much about. you'd like to see it, this calm, composed man, to lose control in front of you, to see what he was hiding, what he was capable of. It would make a good distraction to the swirl of thoughts fogging up your brain.

You needed it. 

You ground against him, causing a feral growl to erupt from him as he pulled away, breaking the kiss, the two of you breathless, his pupils lust blown. “Steve…” his name leaving your mouth in a breathy whine as his hands slipped under the fabric of your shirt. Burying his head in your neck, his lips leaving soft kisses against your raging pulse. “Not here, Angel.”

Rising to his feet, he loaded you and the wine with the berries onto the bike, bringing it roaring to life. You looped your arms around his waist, casually slipping your hands under his shirt, dipping lower, past the waistband of his pants and boxers. Brushing against his hardened member, his body tensed, your name leaving his lips in a low voice, a strained warning, that had you smiling wickedly. 

—

You arrived back at the mansion in record timing. He stepped off the bike first, you moved to follow, but were hastily scooped into his arms. He wrapped your legs around his waist, lips crashing with yours, so consumed by you he didn’t notice the black vehicle parked farther up the drive.

His hands roamed your body burning you into his mind, your hands in his hair and clutching to his back. Shutting off the alarms blaring in your mind. His hand left your body only momentarily to open the front door, toeing it the rest of the way open.

Only to kick it shut behind him, the sound echoing through the foyer. The two of you were heading for what you assumed was his room, but a throat cleared behind you. Steve broke the kiss, a brow raised, irritation ignited in his eyes as he glanced around you. “Evening Rogers, and Little Stark.” You recognized the gravely disembodied voice, a sneer splitting your lips as you watched Steve’s jaw clench. The man you had come to recognize disappearing before your eyes.

You turned your head to see both Thor and Loki standing there, waiting, watching. You glared back, as Steve released you, another door opening then slamming shut. Bucky emerged, fuming, his weapon holsters strapped to his chest, Peter following close behind attempting to soothe him.

Bucky turned from Peter, his eyes landing on you and Steve, “Where the hell have you been!? Phone turned off, what if something-“ 

“Barnes.” Steve’s voice cut through Bucky’s worried scolding. 

You turned your gaze back to Steve, his eyes cold, body tensed, power rolled off him. A shiver ran up your spine as Bucky cleared his throat, the headstrong man almost submitting, but you could feel the apology in the air. 

“Odinson, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening.” Steve’s tone was cold, cordial, but cold. 

Your gaze met Loki’s, his green eyes followed the conversation, until they locked with yours they softened, calm, but his body language telling a different story. He was next to his brother, yes, but just out of reach. His arms folded securely across his chest. Face void of any expression aside from boredom. 

“Business Rogers, it’s always businesses.” A small smirk lifted one side of Thor’s mouth.

“Regular business hours are over Thor. Make an appointment with Wanda or one of the men and we can talk then.” Steve moved towards the staircase, hand grasping your wrist to follow.

Something flashed across Thor's eyes, his jaw clenching, “This really shouldn’t wait. Rogers.”

Steve stopped, turning to Peter, “Queens, accompany Angel to my room or wherever she would like you to take her.” He then turned to Thor, “My office is upstairs.” 

Peter joined you at the bottom of the stairs as Steve caressed your face, his eyes softening, “This won’t take long. I promise.” 

You nodded, giving him a small smile as he ascended the stairs, Thor, Loki and Bucky following behind. Thor gave you a knowing smile, “Shouldn’t take long young Stark then he will be yours again.” He winked as he passed by.

The continuous use of your brother’s link to you began to grate on your nerves as you stared daggers into Thor’s back, both Loki and Bucky turned to give you an apologetic look before disappearing along with Steve and Thor upstairs.

Peter cleared his throat next to you, “What would you like to do, Ms. Carbonell?”

You sighed leaning against the baister, “Honestly? A bowl of ice cream and a bath sound amazing.”

You turn your gaze to Peter, a smile breaking onto his face and his eyes light up at the mention of the sweet snack, “Ice cream? Yeah, I can get you some, follow me.” quietly he leads you into the kitchen, he motions for you to take a seat at the bar. Alpine hopping onto the counter in front of you, making her way under your hand, encouraging you to scratch her back as Peter rummages through the freezer and cabinets.

You watch as he places two bowls onto the counter and begins making you and him a bowl. “Steve calls you Queens, why?” you ask casually, Alpine taking up most of your attention.

His head pops up from the ice cream, “Oh, that's just where I’m from, my Aunt lives there… It’s nothing special.”

You nodded slowly as he placed your bowl in front of you, before moving to the seat next to you, softly scratching Alpine’s head as he passed, getting comfortable on the bar stool. 

“Don’t you have a nickname? Like from your brother or any friends?” he asks around a spoonful of ice cream.

You take a bite of your own, contemplating a good answer. You couldn't really tell him most people call you death, or some other form of the word in whatever language they speak. Jake gave you the nickname first, as the Ace of Spades, you were usually dealt as the last resort. Or by request of the client, you were never requested by name of course, only by title. “Well, no, but Tony calls me Squirt…” 

—

Steve led Thor and Loki to his office, Bucky following close behind, as he opened the door to allow everyone in, Thor stopped him.

“I’d like to speak with you alone Steve.”

Steve glanced at Thor, then nodded to both Bucky and Loki before closing the door and leaving them in the hall. Steve walked to his desk, taking a seat, clasping his hands in front of his face, “You have my undivided attention Thor, what can I do for you?”

Thor smiled faintly, “No, no, no, Steve, it's what I can do for you.” Thor leaned back in his chair, caressing his beard, “You see, the turmoil between the families has been brought to my attention.”

Steve’s eye narrowed at Thor’s words, “If you are speaking of my relationship with Stark’s sister, this conversation will be over before it begins-”

“No, I care little about who you keep between your legs and sheets, Rogers.” Steves jaw clenches, the not so subtle jab about his you being a mere fling doesn't escape him. “No, I am referring to the havoc Stark is wreaking on your businesses.” Thor continues, rising from his seat, “You see, it isn't just affecting you and your businesses, it's affecting all of us and it must end.”

Making his way to the bar cart, Thor pours himself a glass, taking a long swig before speaking again, “Stark is a lost mut, chomping at the bit since his parents died. He is looking for someone to blame, we all know that now you have his pretty little sister, his eyes are on you.” 

“I’m failing to see where you are going with this Odinson, and I'm losing my patience,” Steve ground out through grit teeth.

Swirling the glass, Thor sighed, “Your businesses need protection–”

“They have protection. Are you suggesting I can’t protect my own–”

A dark chuckle escaped Thor’s throat, “Not at all Steve, I am merely suggesting we crack the whip with Stark. My father, gods rest his soul, would never have let any of this get so far out of hand…” he poured himself another glass as Steve’s cold stare followed his movements, “We need a Don, Steve, someone who can keep the peace. I could help quell with useless squabble between the two of you. So you can continue to play with his sister, and we can get back to making money. Because we all make more money when we work together, all I ask is for your vote.” he moved towards the bar again, “help me, to help you.”

Throwing back the rest of his drink, he walked towards the door, turning back one last time he met Steves icy gaze, “I wonder how she would feel, knowing she is the reason your empire is crumbling.” he turned the knob, opening the door “Think about it Stevie.” he quipped as he disappeared outside the office door.

Standing from his desk, Steve took a deep breath, his blood boiling. If it would have been anyone else aside from Thor, he would have the men cleaning their brains off his bookshelves. He ran his hand through his hair, the door to his office opening again as he slammed his fist down on the desk, “Fuck!”

He looked up to find Bucky standing quietly, his weapons still buckled to his body, Steve cocked his head, maybe Thor was right, he had let Tony get away with too much, it was time to fight fire with fire. He had tried to stay neutral, let Tony have his tantrums, for your sake, but enough was enough. Now Steve’s leadership was being questioned, and he couldn't have that.

“Bucky, gather the men, meet me in the garage. We are going to hit a few of Stark’s warehouses, make sure we send a message. He fucks with us we fuck with him. I want him to hear it loud and clear.”

Bucky blinked at him, yesterday Steve had yelled at them and told them not to retaliate, and now he wanted them to send a message. “Steve–”

“Just do as you're told Buck and get outta my office.” Steve saw the hurt flash across Bucky’s face when the words reached his ears. He knew he was being an ass, but he just couldn’t deal with it right now. All the men knew better than to talk back, or raise their voices, especially in front of other families. Bucky had done both, on the same day. So when he straightened, nodding his head before leaving the room Steve ignored the pang in his stomach when he remembered you were waiting on him.

—

You were asleep in bed when Steve returned to the mansion and entered the room, your hair still damp from your bath he assumed you had taken. You were on top of the covers, no doubt waiting for him to come and join you. Placing a kiss to your forehead, he tucked you under the covers, whispering promises to make it up to you tomorrow. But for now, he needed a shower, to rinse the blood, and grime off himself. 

After showering, he lowered himself into bed, curling himself around you as you turned over, tucking your head between his neck and shoulder.

“Where did you go?” your sleepy voice rising in the darkness.

“I had some unexpected business, baby, it took longer than expected. I'm here now though. Just get some rest. We can talk about it in the morning.” he breathed into your hair, placing a gentle kiss upon your temple.

 He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent, a sense of calm washed over him, chasing away all the screams and horrific acts of violence from the past twelve hours. You were his peace. His lighthouse in a storm. And he would spend every day showing you what you meant to him.

—

You woke first, the early light of sunrise bleeding through the curtains. Steve lay asleep next to you, for the first time since the two of you have been together, you got a good long look at the tattoos that painted his skin. Most of the ink remained on his chest, across one pectoral, a medusa head, blindfolded, her snakes tangling around his shoulder and other pec, intertwining with a broken clock. You followed the inked details down one of his arms, lady justice stood on one forearm, her sword in one hand and scales in the other, balanced. On his other arm, a pair of wings. Not a stitch of color, just the stark black against his tanned skin. You wondered about the story they told, and made a mental note to ask him later. For now you need to get dressed and head into the city.

—

“I’m telling you, I can beat you with a rematch. Just you and I kid, I guarantee I can win.” Bucky pressed, sitting next to you in the vehicle, Scott and Sam in the front seats.

You squeezed Steve’s hand as you rolled your eyes, laughing lightly, “Listen Boinky, if you really want me to kick your ass, all you have to do is ask.”

He rolled his eyes as the car came to a stop in front of the small cafe you were set to have lunch in, Bucky exiting the vehicle first, offering you his hand as Steve exited on the other side. You took his hand, looking around on your own, unable to shut off your instincts. As your head cleared the door, you were able to see through the sea of people walking, a familiar blonde head catching your eye. The sun momentarily glinting off the gun in her hand as she raised it, hurrying out of the vehicle, you tried to shove Bucky out of the line of fire only to stumble on the curb, falling into Bucky. 

The gunshot rang in the air, the crowd swarming in panic, screaming as they tried to get to safety.

Bucky caught you as you fell, the two of you tumbling to the ground, his body cushioning your fall, only to flip you under him to shield you.

You heard Steve yelling, as well as Scott, the thunderous sounds of footsteps making it hard for you to focus. Your head pounding, Bucky pushed off you, reaching down to help you up, as his hand wrapped around your arm, a scream clawed its way out of your throat. Searing pain radiating on the left side of your chest and shoulder, reaching up, you could feel the blood seeping through your shirt. Steve rounded the back of the car as you lifted your crimson painted hand to your face, vision blurring as you watched Bucky’s face blanched. 

Steve’s muffled order to get you back in the car is the last thing you heard before losing consciousness. 

—

The sterile smell of medical supplies pulled you from your blackout, a dull pain throbbed right below your left collarbone. You tried to push yourself up, but the dull pain turned volatile. Groaning you dropped back down-

“Woah, easy Ace, easy.” 

Your eyes snapped open at the nickname, next to you sat Bucky, shirtless, pushing at the woman in the lab coat so he could reach for you, concern lacing his features.

“Oh, good morning Ms. Carbonell.” the woman turned to you, her ID tag reading Dr. Helen Cho. you met her eyes as she walked over to the side of your bed, moving a pillow behind you, helping you to sit up. You glanced around the room, in the chair to your right sat Steve, head propped on his hand, leaning towards you, asleep, the early morning light dancing through his blond hair painting it gold. 

You turned back to Bucky as Dr. Cho finished patching his wound, your brows scrunching had he called you Ace? Did he know? If so, you couldn't imagine you would still be breathing. “New nickname?” you asked quietly. He gave you a soft smile, thanking the doctor, “Yeah, it seems fitting. You happen to be really good at poker as well as almost anything you try, and you’re probably the luckiest person I've ever met.”

You shook your head, “I wouldn't consider being shot lucky…”

“Neither would most people, but you are lucky to be alive.” Dr. Cho pointed to your injury, “The bullet pierced right under your collar bone, yet right above your shoulder blade, a clean entry and exit wound.” she gestured to Bucky, “clean enough to graze it's more likely target.”

You nodded, giving Bucky an apologetic look, “Don’t give me that look, Ace, it’s me that should be sorry, you took a bullet for me, one that could have easily killed you–”

“Yeah but it didn't.”

“In all reality it should have–” Dr. Cho interrupted, giving you a serious look, before checking your IV and beginning to check your vitals, “If it would have been an inch lower, it would have punctured a lung, another inch maybe a little more, you wouldn't have made it off the pavement.”

In all your years, you had been beaten, stabbed, shot, but never this close to any damage being anything but superficial. “It is just a flesh wound now, it's been cleaned and dressed. You are also on heavy medication, I recommend bed rest for a few days. Other than that you should be fine.” she began to leave, “I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours, when everyone is awake. Rest.”

Once the door closed, you turned your gaze back to Bucky, you could feel his eyes burning into you, “Binky. I’m fine.”

He chewed his lip, furrowing his brow, “You can call me Bucky you know…” his icy eyes locking with yours.

You raised a brow, a smug smirk pulled at your lips, “Does this mean we are friends Barnes? I distinctly remember you telling me–” 

“You took a bullet for me kid, the least I can do is allow you to call me by my name.” he smiled sadly, standing from his seat, rummaging through the closet of the room you were in. Pulling a t-shirt from its hanger, he began putting it on.

The serious topic began making you uncomfortable, you needed to lighten the mood, “Well, looks like I’m not good at everything I try. I wouldn't exactly get high marks as a human shield–” you pointed to his bandaged wound.

He huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes, looking at the sleeping mob boss next to you, “Don’t let him hear you joke about it…”

Your head rolled to the side, giving you an unobstructed view of Steve, “how long was I out?”

“Not long, 24 hours give or take.”

“Has he moved?” you gently brushed the hair from his forehead, hovering there.

“No.”

You turned back to Bucky, eyebrows scrunched, “Why? What about business or–”

“You are all that matters.” Steve's husky voice cut you off, “The rest can wait.”

Your gaze snapping to him, you met his ocean eyes, red tinged, from the lack of sleep, the light bags under his eyes letting you know that the hours of sleep he got were few and far between. His hand coming up to intertwine with yours, he pressed the back of your hand to his cheek, “Hello Angel.”

You gave him a small smile, your tumb caressing his hand, as he placed a kiss to your knuckles—

“You can take your appointment and Shove it where the–” a familiar voice thundered down the hall.

Your head snapped toward the door, Bucky’s and Steve’s gazes following.

Bucky began walking towards the door, “Stay here, I’ll check it out.” As he reached the door, he was shoved backward as the door opened inward, nearly knocking him on his ass. Your brother stormed through the door, chest heaving, face a deep shade of red, you were surprised he didn't have smoke pouring from his ears. 

When his eyes met yours, you could swear his knees gave out, his features softening, shoulders slumping, he stumbled toward you, stopping just short of the bed, his gaze landing on Steve next to you. “Is this what you wanted, Rogers?”

Steve’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent, “First my warehouses, now my sister?! You almost got her killed!”

“Tony, that's not fair! You can't blame him for this, he had no control over the situation.” you argued, pulling yourself from Steve’s grip to face your brother fully.

“This. This isn’t staying out of the business. You were fine at the museum, before him. And now you're a target because of his recklessness!”

Steve rose from his seat, his voice raised, “My recklessness?! If you would just let your sister make her own decisions and not throw tantrums when she picks someone you don't agree with, we wouldn't be in this situation. I can’t control hired assassins Tony!”

Your head began to pound again.

“That’s the problem isn't it Rogers, control. You don't have much of it.” 

“What is that supposed to–” 

“Enough!” you interrupted, “that's enough, both of you.”

Steve’s head fell, but Tony just glared at him, “Look at me, Tony.” he slowly tore his gaze from Steve. You looked to Bucky who had stationed himself close to the door, then looked at Steve’s back, “Can the two of you give me a moment with my brother.”

Both the men nodded, heading for the door, as Steve left, he glanced back at you, he looked defeated, his eyes pleading you to understand. You didn't blame him, you stepped in front of that bullet. You weren't sure why, it was obviously meant for Bucky. You just hoped you had done a well enough job of pretending to fall into him, and not purposefully becoming his human shield.

“This is not the time nor the place for this conversation Tony.” you met his gaze, your eyes hard, you appreciated his concern, but all he was doing was making matters worse and making an ass out of himself. 

“Squirt, if you would have just listening to me from the beginning, we wouldn't be here, all I wanted was for you to be–”

“Tony, stop. I made my decision. I knew the risks of being seen with him. I accepted that.”

“Well I don't! You are leaving here with me, I am taking you home, Dr. Banner can help you recover…” he continued to ramble, making his way to the bed, he began unplugging monitors and cords attached to you, making his way to a duffle back, he began throwing your clothes in.

“Tony, Tony stop!”

He froze, swallowing.

“I am not going anywhere.” 

Turning he opened his mouth to retaliate.

“No. You don't talk, you listen. I am staying here with Steve. If you wish to have this discussion we can meet at a different time after I've recovered and we can talk.” 

His brown eyes glassy as he held your gaze, “I can't lose you too…” his voice breaking.

“You won't. I am fine, it is only a flesh wound. But Tony, you can't control my decisions. If you do, you will lose me by choice.”

He took a deep breath, swallowing hard, “You promise we can talk after?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to come to you, embracing him, “I promise, for now just trust me. Okay?”

You felt him hesitate, squeezing you, before nodding in agreement, “Okay.”

“Now go, stop making an ass out of yourself. I’ll see you soon.”

Releasing you he moved to the door, hesitating he looked back, “Pinky swear you’ll be alright?”

You lifted your little finger, “Pinky swear.”

He nodded, opening the door, allowing Steve to enter as he exited, “Rogers…” Steve turned back looking at Tony, “Keep her safe. Or you will take her place in that bed.” 

“With my life Tony.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Tony brushed past Bucky who in turn glared at him as he left. Bucky stepped in the door, but Steve turned to him, “Could you give us a few Buck?” nodding Bucky left the room, the soft click of the door filling the uncomfortable silence.

Steve knelt in front of you, his head resting in your lap momentarily, you gently run your hands through his hair. 

Lifting his head, his eyes met yours, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. His eyes were so full of emotion, it knocked the wind from your lungs,  “I thought I was going to lose you Angel.”

He rose, picking you up from the bed, placing you into his lap as he sat down. His forehead resting against yours, his breath fanned over you, his lips tantalizingly close, you allowed your eyes to slip shut, tilting your head so your lips met in a soft kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, keeping you as close as he could. His hands never leave your body too afraid to leave you, as if you would disappear if they did. “You are the best thing that has happened to me, in a long long time.” he breathed against your lips, “You are my guardian angel, my everything.” the pit opened in your stomach again, an icy hand gripped your heart. 

He pulled away, just enough to look you in the eyes, the blue becoming glassy, “Can you make me a promise?”

The grip on your heart tightened, stomach flipping, “Anything.” you wanted to be sick.

His hand came to caress your face, thumb softly tracing your cheekbone, “Promise me you wont leave… I won't lose–” he broke off taking a deep shaky breath, “I can’t lose you. You mean more to me than anything. More than my entire empire, if you wanted me to leave it all behind all you would have to do is ask.”

“Promise me. Promise me I won’t lose you, please Angel.”

He kissed you again, filled with so much emotion, it felt like your heart was being squeezed into dust, you were breathless when he pulled away again, your name a faint whisper on his lips, “I love you.”

The grip on your heart tightened further, you shouldn’t have accepted this mission, an icy chill ran up your spine.

“I love you too.” 

Your chest physically constricted as the words left your mouth. The pain radiating through your body, you gasped, only for his mouth to close around yours. Tears stung at your eyes, but you shoved them down, this was just a mission.

Just a mission.

Except it wasn't.

@dontbescaredtosingalong @texan-tazzy@tianamontag@daiseychaindisaster@silently-killing-you@buckyfan12 @leyannrae @justlovelifeblog@austynparksandpizza @captainson-of-coul@betareader7@vicmc624

[kaz11283]

ok ok idk if ur still taking request but can i have a drabble or a one shot or anything of loki dealing with/ taking care/ drinking with drunk y/n??? i’m drunk rn and that’s allll i need in life

Babysitter

The party at Starks compound was going off without a hitch, celebrating the man himselfs birthday. The music was to loud, lights flickering everywhere, and laughter bouncing off the walls.

"Come drink with us y/n!" Thor bellowed to you across the bar montioning you to follow him to the group that was sitting around one of the back tables. You flopped down next to Loki and let out a sigh.

"How are you this evening y/n?" He asked moving his leg over slightly so that he wouldnt have to touch you. That was your power, being able to read people minds with a simple touch, nights like tonight all ways set you on edge with to many people bumping, shoving, touching. The whole atmosphere drove you mad most of the time.

"Handling it." You forced a smile looking over at him. "Alcohol helps repress it." You said picking up your drink and giving a silent cheers to the handsome man that had decided to dress in a black dress shirt and dark colored jeans. You threw your head back and took the shot.

"Starting the party stong this evening y/n?" Tony asked raising his eyebrow at you.

"Putting everyone elses thoughts on the back burner for tonight Tony." You said smiling sweetly at him before taking another shot.

"So whos on babysitting duty tonight then?" Bucky laughed looking around the table.

"I'm not that bad-"

"Thor had to pull you off the bar last time before you started stripping." Your face turned bright red as you glanced over to Thor whos face was the same color mounthing out sorry.

"Dont worry I've got her this time." Loki laughted taking a sip of his wine.

"Babysitter." You rolled your eyes again taking a sip of the mixed drink that Nat had put in front of you making sure her hand grazed your.

Loki seems quite excited to be on babysotting duty tonight, you might be in for another private stripping session tonight.

You shot her a look that sent her into a fit of laughs.

"Another round then!" Thor yelled at the bar tender. "We are celebrating the Man of Iron tonight." You sighed slouching back in your chair.

"Relax, darling, I've got you tonight." Loki whispered leaning over to you. "I won't let you make a complete fool of your self."

As the night grew so did your buzz, your cheeks were getting warmer, and the dress you had on now started feeling constricting. You started pulling at the bottom and then neck.

"Your fidgeting darling." Loki said placing his hand on your leg causing you to jump.

"My dress is to tight. I just need to get up for a second." You said standing to walk over to the bar.

"Dress to tight?" Steve asked looking over at Loki.

"She had to get up for a moment." At that moment there was whistling coming from the dance floor.

"Umm, babysitter." Tony said pointing behind Loki. As he turned around he noticed that you had already started to pull the dress up more than you should have. Loki jumped up running toward you.

"Y/n, what are you doing?" He said grabbing your hands causing your dress to fall back down.

"Lok, I'm hot. So freaking hot. This dress, its to tight. I need it off." You said trying to shake him off.

"Come on then, lets get you out of here." He said pulling you out the door. You bumped into a man standing near the door.

Wish she would have finished. He doesnt deserve to be able to see all that undressed.

You stopped suddenly looking at the man before raring back and punching him in the face. "I dont think its any of your concern who sees me like that." Loki stopped and stared at you before escourting you out of the crowed room.

"Asshole." You huffed behind him. He was able to lead you to the floor where his room was. "You could have just taken me back to my room so that you could go back." You sighed flopping down on his bed. The buzz had slowly started wearing off but the room was still spinning.

"Its ok y/n. Besides if I'm taking care of you then I cant go back to that overrated party then can I?" He laughed sitting next to you.

"I get so tired of being able to hear what people are thinking. It is literally exhausting. Trying to find somewhere to sit thats not to close to someone. Especially one of the guys, all of yall are perverts. Course the girls are just as bad most of the time." You put your head in your hands tearing up. Nope, the drunk still wasnt over.

"The power that you have makes you you y/n. If you didnt have that power you wouldnt be here with your friends."

"Yeah friends that I can hug because im afraid that I might hear something that I shouldn't. I made that mistake once. I hugged Steve not even thinking and he was thinking about Nat. Like thinking about something that no one but those two should know about. After that I just stopped touching everyone. Do you know how bad that sucks?"

"Ah, touch starved." He said laughing. "May I try something?"

"Its no use, everyone tells me they can shut it all off but theres always something on their minds." You shrug.

"Give me your hand." He saod placing his hand out palm up. You begrudgingly put your hand in his causing him to smile. "Well?"

"I think im about to be sick." You said jumping up and running to his bathroom silently thanking Tony for sticking with one layout for every room.

"Oh dear." Loki said following you in there and grabbing ahold of your hair that had fallen. "I think you will live." He helped you sit on the side of the bathtub as he got a clean rag for you to whip your face.

"I'm sorry you got stuck with me tonight." You whispered closing your eyes.

"Stop that nonsense. I volunteered for it. I knew what was coming." He laughed as he walked out to his room to get you a clean shirt. "Now tell me. Did you hear anything when I touched you?"

"Actually no, I didnt even realize it when you was pulling me from the party." You said putting the shirt next to you. "How?"

"I can 'turn it off' if that makes any sense. Telepathic people drive me insane. Always trying to figure out what your thinking. I learned at a young age how to block stuff like that out. Wanda tends to be the worlds worst."

"Its nice. The quiet. I havent had that, ever." You leand your head aginst the cool wall closing your eyes.

"Hey, no no no. Lets get you changed and laid down in bed before you pass out." He pulled you to your feet and looked at you. "Do you need assistance?"

You laughted as him. "No. Its fine ive got this." You pulled your dress off and pulled his on before walking out and flopping down on his bed.

"Do you mind holding my hand? Its nice not having to worry about what i might hear." Loki laid down beside you and placed his hand in yours.

"If you ever need some quiet time you are more than welcome to come find me." He sais placing a kiss to your temple before you fell asleep.

Thank you so MUCH for the request! I hope you like it. I had one, erased it and restarted so thats what took took me so long to write this one. If you have any more please feel free to send them in!

Tag List:

@high-functioning-lokipath

@serpentargo

@drbaureid

@poetic-fiasco

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@rosaline-black

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@natandersonnla

@delightfulheartdream

[samwilsonsbabymama]

Indifference

18+

Pairing: Gray!Sam Wilson x Black Reader (18+)

Summary: You're tired of Sam's indifference towards you, so you decide to leave.

Warnings: emotional indifference/manipulation, implied forced pregnancy, angst

Word Count: > 1,000

A/N: This fic is based on Sam from @angrythingstarlight 's fic Trust Me, Honey yall should read it if you haven't and tell Star how wonderful she is!!!

💖 Please let me know what you think by leaving feedback 💖

You sat across from Sam and watched as the frown on his face deepens. You'd spent all day cooking and cleaning. Making sure everything was perfect for him when he got home. All you wanted was for him to react somehow. To show that he cared.

But you got nothing.

As usual.

Sam pushed his plate away before he stood and grumbled something about not going to be home for a couple of days.

You were crushed, but you wouldn't let him see it. Part of you knew this was going to happen, but you just had to try.

Sam wasn't always this indifferent towards you. When you initially met, he was all smiles and light touches. He made you feel wanted, something you'd never experienced before. Before you knew it, he had you hooked.

Initially, you didn't notice the change in his behavior. Be began spending more time away from home, away from you. His once lively conversations slowly dwindled to unintelligible grunts or complete silence.

He rarely touched you anymore. No kiss on the top of your head or hand at the small of your back. Nothing.

When he did touch you, he was harsh. He used your body to get himself off without a care for you or how you felt. You knew he cared nothing for how you truly felt, and it made you feel awful, and you wanted out.

You couldn't imagine Sam caring that you left, he'd demonstrated no interest in you for years. You often wondered why you stayed so long, why you allowed him to treat you this way. The only thing you could come up with was how he made you feel when you first met.

Sam was like a drug and you were chasing that first high. You wanted to feel like you did when you first got together. Like you mattered to him. But since he clearly didn't desire you any longer, you weren't going to stick around any longer.

You waited a few hours before you started packing knowing that Sam could double back any time and you didn't want to take any chances. You wanted this to be an easy break from him.

When you had finally packed your last item, you took one last look around Sam's home and walked out.

You were glad that it was dark out; it made it easier for you to hide from oncoming cars as you made your way down the road. You doubted that Sam would come after you but you didn't want to take any chances. You knew it would take you a while to walk to the next town. You planned on buying a burner phone with the money that you had saved.

As you walked, you gave yourself a pep talk reminding yourself of why leaving was a good thing and that you deserved better. When your legs got tired, you pushed yourself to keep going and before you knew it, you reached your destination.

You made your way to the nearest hotel and paid for one night and headed to your room. All you needed was a few hours of rest before you resumed your journey. After your shower, you plopped right into the bed and you were asleep before your head hit the pillow.

You had no idea how long you had been asleep before the sound of clicking woke you up. You rubbed your eyes and listened closely to the sound. When your eyes focused on the door, you spotted a shadow on the other side of your door.

You crept over to the door as quietly as you could and peeped through the hole. You held your breath as you looked out into the seemingly empty hallway wishing that whoever was at your door went away.

You could hear them still tinkering with the lock as you willed for them to go away. You hated that you couldn't see who was trying to break into your room.

You looked around the room for something to arm yourself with when you spotted the large chair a few feet away. You slowly walked over to it and as quiet as you could, you pushed it up against the door before you turned to put your shoes back on. You were thankful that you hadn't unpacked anything from your bag before you fell asleep.

You took one last look through the peephole and your breath caught in your throat. You spotted Steve leaning against the wall across from your room. His eyes were downcast, and he watched what you assumed was Sam attempting to break into your room.

You slowly backed away from the door and headed towards the window and raised it. When it got about halfway up, it let out a soft squeak and you froze. So did Sam. Your breath quickened a second later when he started yanking on the door. You yelped when he called out your name just as you climbed out the window and closed it shut.

You tightened the straps on your backpack and jogged to the parking lot and peeked around the corner. You were just about to step into the light when a flash of movement caught your eye causing you to back up.

Bucky had come with Sam and was waiting by his car. You shivered because Bucky frightened you. He always had. Something about him made you uncomfortable, but you could never put your finger on it. You refused to be caught by him. By any of them.

You had to make a hasty decision; run across the parking lot or creep back past your room. You knew you wouldn't be able to run fast enough, so you chose the latter.

You turned and walked back towards your hotel room, ducking down the windows. Your heart thundered in your chest as you got closer to your room. You couldn't let him catch you because you couldn't go back. Once you reached your window, you took one last breath and ducked underneath it. It was silent inside but you didn't dwell on it any longer.

You willed your feet to move faster as you ran. You could see your destination a few feet in front of you but just as you reached it, Sam stepped out into your path and you ran right into his arms.

You sat silently beside Sam as you rode back to his house. His grip on your thigh never let up. You kept your chin tucked down, and you refused to speak. You wondered where you had gone wrong, and why he had come after you but you didn't dare say anything just yet.

When Bucky's car pulled into Sam's driveway, you hesitated a bit too long which caused Sam to yank you out. You didn't resist him as he dragged you into the house and shoved you through the open door. You stumbled over your feet as Sam towed you through the house and into his office, the one room you weren't allowed to go in.

You looked around at each monitor and gulped.

"I've been watching you for months," he said, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "Just waiting for you to make your move. I thought you had given up, but you surprised me tonight."

You backed yourself against the wall as he stalked toward you.

"I want you to dead all those thoughts of leaving me, sweetheart," he said as he stroked your cheek with his knuckle. "You are mine."

You shook your head 'no' at his words, and he chuckled.

"Try running away from me again after I fuck this baby into you," he said just moments before his lips were on yours.

💖 Please let me know what you think by leaving feedback 💖

[buckys-black-dress]

stargazing (bucky barnes x fem!reader)

a/n: so this idea totally just came to me because this trope is honestly so cute and i love these and i need to get this out of my system. i listened to stargazing by the neighborhood while writing this and i LOVE this song, so i’d recommend listening while reading! (just listen to the whole album).

also-- happy new year! 2020 quite literally fucked us up but im so grateful this year was the one where i decided to come on here and share my work with yall. i love every single one of my readers, so THANK YOU! anyways, without further ado...

enjoy my dearies!!! -ali

wc: 2.8k

- 

When you first became best friends with Rebecca Barnes in preschool, the last place you’d expected to end up was with a massive crush on her older brother.

James, or Bucky, as he likes to be called my his close friends, was basically the perfect guy for you. He was kind, witty, and didn’t treat you like a child. (Anymore). 

Now that you had graduated high school and were in you first year of college, Bucky was in his second year. And things were getting rough. 

You were a Cognitive Psychology major, and your main interest was in becoming an occupational therapist. You were attending Columbia University. 

And of course, so was Bucky, studying English Literature. Rebecca was studying at FIT, her main interest being in fashion design. All three of you couldn’t bear to leave New York City, so you all decided to stay nearby. 

Since all three of you were in the same area, more or less, you three remained close and tight-knit. Since you were still a freshman, you decided to dorm on campus, while Rebecca and Bucky did the same. Bucky was in a fraternity, so he had a place in the house, and you often found yourself hanging out in his room, having been introduced to most of his brothers.

Like today, it was Thursday night, and your classes were cancelled for tomorrow. You were in no rush to get back to your room, and your roommate was also out at her boyfriend’s. Rebecca thought you were finishing up an essay, though. 

“Y/N, you’re crashing here tonight?” Bucky’s voice caused his chest to rumble under your place on it. 

“Yeah, is that alright?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course, Y/N/N.” He smiled back down at you, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest at your doe eyes. 

She’s your sister’s best friend. Becca would hate you.

“I’m gonna wash up before I fall asleep, Buck.” You said with a yawn, lifting yourself off of Bucky’s warm, comfortable bed. 

Bucky watched your form disappear out of his room to the bathroom next door, his chest deflating with a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

I’m so fucked.

-

Making your short walk to the bathroom, your mind was filled with thoughts, and you really didn’t know what to do in this current situation. 

You and Becca had been best friends since you were both in preschool.

And now you were pretty certain that you had the biggest crush known to humankind on her older brother. 

Staring at your reflection in the mirror as you pat your face dry, you wondered what would happen if this went further. 

What would happen if you told Bucky that you liked him?

What would Becca do if she knew you liked her brother?

Shaking your head at yourself, you knew you couldn’t do that to Becca. She’s been there for you through everything that’s happened to you. To just turn around and tell her that you’ve fallen for her brother- you don’t know if that would be the right thing to do.

But how could you just outwardly deny your feelings for Bucky?

A knock on the bathroom door drew you out of your thoughts, letting whoever was knocking know that they could come in. 

“Hey, Y/N, how ya been?” It was one of Bucky’s closest friends whom you also knew growing up, Steve Rogers. 

“Hey Steve, I’m good. How ‘bout you?” You asked, getting ready to head back to Bucky’s room. 

“Good, good, y’know, Peg’s keepin’ me on my toes.” He flashed you a smile, a blush creeping up on his face at the mention of his girlfriend. 

“Aw, Stevie’s in loooove,” You sing-songed, pinching his cheek.

“Well, I think I could say the same for you, Y/N/N.” Steve scoffed back in retort, but your breath hitched at the words.

“Shut up, Steve...” You mumbled, twiddling your fingers. 

“Y/N, I’m serious... You and Buck ‘ve been spending a lot of time together and I can tell. He’s my best friend, and I know when my best friend is taken for someone. Trust me, Y/N, your feelings aren’t one-sided.” And with that, he steps into the bathroom, leaving you reeling at his words.

Lost in your thought again, you walked back to Bucky’s room. You tucked yourself under his warm duvet, as you fell into a deep slumber with his arm wrapped around your waist, thinking about the weight of it around you as you fell asleep.

- 

The next morning was... quiet... to say the least. After your encounter with Steve in the bathroom, you really didn’t know how to feel about your feelings towards Bucky. He felt the tenseness that was rolling off of you in waves, making him wonder if he did something to make you upset. 

Bucky wondered if he was doing too much, wondering if he had caused you to be uncomfortable with him for some reason.

So naturally, he pulled back.

As the days went on and got colder, you found yourself spending more time in your dorm, or places that weren’t associated with Bucky in your mind. 

And it was safe to say the both of you were losing it.

Bucky was slowly losing his composure, where he would participate the most in his seminar classes, he was quiet and folded in on himself, losing his confidence. 

Where you were the most outspoken on certain topics in your classes, you became a bit of a hermit. 

And almost everyone noticed.

Most notably, Becca and Steve.

When you returned from class at the end of a long week without Bucky, you invited Becca over to have take out in your room.

“So, how’s your week been?” She asks, reaching into your takeout box and grabbing a piece of garlic honey chicken.

Rolling your eyes, you say “Fine, same old. You? How’d that design project go?” 

“It was awesome! My professor really loved my piece, she said it was one of the ‘most original takes’ on this project she’s seen!” Becca was ecstatic and you were so proud of her.

“That’s so awesome, Bec! One day you’re gonna have to make me something that I can wear, and when someone asks me where I got it, I’ll just say, ‘oh, sorry my best friend made it, you’ll have to wait ‘til it hits the runways to buy it.’” You laugh, pointing your chopsticks at her.

“Y/N, stop, you flatterer.” She smirked, looking back down at her food. “Hey, I’ve also been meaning to ask... have you noticed Bucky acting weird as of late, or anything? Is it just me or is he like... way more quiet than usual?” Becca asked inquisitively. 

“Oh- uh, I actually have no idea. I haven’t really seen him that much this week. Just around campus here and there.” You shrug your shoulders, the pit in your stomach nagging at you.

“Really? You guys usually hang out more often...” She responds, and your face burns in embarrassment. 

“Wh- How do you know how often your brother and I hang out?” Your voice didn’t even feel like your own as you spoke, quickly occupying it with food.

“Well, he does live with Steve... Apparently you’re around there pretty often.” Rebecca eyes you, seeing your body language and how uncomfortable you seem. “Y/N... If you like my brother, that’s okay. I think you guys would be cute together. And I can tell you like him, so don’t try to deny it.” Becca smiles, reaching to rest a hand on yours in comfort. 

“Wh- You don’t care?” You ask in confusion, expecting a bit of a more dramatic reaction. 

“Of course I care, I care about my two favorite people being happy. And if they’re happy together, then that’s even better!” She explains, and your head spins.

“I- I’m telling you this in confidence, Becca. You can’t tell anyone, not Steve, not Peggy, and absolutely not Bucky...” She nods, moving closer to you. “I...I do like Bucky. A lot. But I don’t think he likes me that way. I mean, just look at his exes. I’m not like Natasha, or those gorgeous girls. And what if he just sees me as his friend. Like a little sister?” You finish, your hands flailing around and out of breath. 

“Y/N... I know my brother, but I can’t read his mind. If I had to take a wild guess... I’d say he likes you too. Based on what Steve tells me, based on how Bucky acts when you come up in conversation... his eyes light up, dude. I think you need to talk to him, face to face.” Rebecca explains, giving her best advice. “You both deserve to be happy, and I think you could both give that to each other.” She softly smiles. 

“Thanks, Becca. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You laugh, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’ll talk to him.”

- 

In the frat house across the campus, Steve and Bucky were sitting in the living room amongst some of their other brothers. 

“Buck, what’s been up with you this week?” Tony, a senior and president of the frat asks from the kitchen.

“Hm?” Bucky looks up, confused at the question.

“You’ve been... off all week long.” Sam chimes in from next to him on the couch, eyes leaving the football match on the TV.

“I’m fine, why?” Bucky deflects, taking a sip of his drink in hand.

“Whatever you say, but I have a feeling this has to do with Y/N... haven’t seen her around here at all this week.” Tony points out, plopping down on a futon. 

Steve’s eyes widened, looking down at his phone that he’s been on all night.

Little did Bucky know, Rebecca was feeding him information about you to him directly, trying to make sense of his friend’s odd behavior this week.

His eyes shot to Bucky’s, trying to gauge his reaction to Tony’s mention of you.

“Yeah, she’s been.... busy, I guess. Haven’t really talked to her.” Bucky says nonchalantly. 

“Why not? You two are basically attached at the hip... like, Friday nights are usually your thing together. I thought you’d man up and ask her out already.” Sam’s response caused a stillness in the room, everyone looking at Bucky for his next move. 

But it was quiet. 

“She’s... she’s my sister’s best friend... I don’t think Becca would appreciate me taking her best friend out to dinner.” Bucky said in a low voice, clearing his throat. 

“Have you asked her how she feels about it?” Thor asks from his spot on the other couch. “Maybe she’s fine with it, she doesn’t seem to be too stuck up...” He suggests.

“My sister isn’t stuck up, man. Watch it.” He responds defensively. 

“I wasn’t saying that! But you should talk to her about it, that’s all I’m saying!” Thor fights back. 

“I just- I don’t know, last week when Y/N was here, she went to the bathroom to wash up at night, and when she came back she was acting totally different. She’s usually comfortable around me, but she was acting like... like she was uncomfortable around me. I thought I did something to make her feel that way, so I kinda backed off this week.” Bucky explains, trying to understand what went wrong.

“Well, did she say anything? Did she try to reach out this week?” Tony asks. 

“I mean, she texted me a few times, but it was casual conversation. I can’t tell how she’s feeling. I like her, but I don’t want to make things weird for her and Becca, or Becca and I.” 

And this is where Steve chimes in. 

“I mean, come on Buck, it’s obvious she likes you too. I think you need to talk to her, because Becca wants you two to be happy. I don’t think she’d care that much, y’know?”

“But what if I make things awkward? Like, what if I read the signals wrong this whole time, and she doesn’t even really like me?” Bucky was now going into a deep spiral, and Steve needed to pull him out, fast. 

“Buck, I don’t think so. You should talk to her, face to face.” Steve encouraged.

“You think so?” Bucky wasn’t so convinced.

“Yes!” A chorus of voices echoed in the house, causing Bucky to jump to his feet, ready to confront this head-on.

“Okay, yeah, yes, I’m gonna tell her how I feel. I got this, I’ll be fine-” But his pumping-up session was cut short from the doorbell ringing through the house.

Steve got up, “I got it.” He simply said, smirking mischievously as he turned to face the door and twisted the knob.

And of course, it was none other than you.

“Hey Buck? I think it’s for you!” Steve yells from the doorway, stepping out of the way and directing everyone in the living room to hide out of sight. Of course, they were all still eavesdropping and lurking about.

“Doll, what’re ya doin’ here?” Bucky was beyond confused, you timing was impeccable. 

“I-I have some things I wanna talk about. I just, I think we need to talk.” You say, looking up at him.

“Y-Yeah, come inside, it’s freezing out. What’s up, doll?” He asks, pulling you into the house and into the living room, sitting down next to you on a couch, making sure to face you. 

“Everything’s alright... but I need to get this off my chest before I go crazy-” You stop yourself from rambling further. “I was having dinner with Becca earlier, and we... talked... about some things. And apparently, someone was telling her about all the time we spend together.” Bucky was listening, but cursing Steve in his head, knowing he was behind it. 

“And I know last week I was acting weird, but I promise, it wasn’t because of something you did. Well, it kinda was, b-but not something bad, y’know?” You explain, trying to get Bucky to understand how you feel.

“Whaddaya mean, doll? If I did something, tell me, because I would never want to hurt you-” He started, trying to pinpoint his actions. 

“You made me like you! There, you happy?” You exclaim, hands covering your cherry red face. “I said it! I like you. And I totally understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m just your little sister’s annoying friend, I get it-” 

But instead of the feeling of rejection, you were met with Bucky’s lips on yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.

Bucky was kissing you.

Bucky was kissing you!

Holy fuck!

What. The. Fuck. 

But before you could overthink anything, you heard loud whoops and cheers coming from all around you.

“What the hell? Steve?” You asked, looking around, trying to process the last minute.

“Finally! Took ya two idiots long enough! God, Becca and I didn’t know how much longer we’d have to be your freakin’ puppet masters.” He laughed from his spot in the kitchen. 

“Come on doll, let’s go upstairs to talk, where we could have some privacy...” Bucky said pointedly, looking at his brothers as they kept cheering as you two made your way up the stairs. 

- 

Once the door closed behind you two, you were quite literally speechless.

“You kissed me.” You pointed out the obvious, since your mind was still reeling.

“I did.” Bucky simply answers.

“...Why?” You ask, like an idiot. 

“Because, for the past three years I’ve had the biggest crush known to man on you... and I knew if I didn’t kiss you then, I never would. Kind of a life or death situation here, doll.” He jokes trying to gauge your mood.

“Bucky...” You sighed, walking closer to him, holding his face, “you can kiss me whenever you want.” And punctuated your sentence with a kiss. 

“Well... then... can I call you my girlfriend?” He asks, looking into your twinkling eyes. Bucky’s large hands cover your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“Yeah... I think you can.” You answer, the sparkle never leaving your eyes.

“Hmmm... finally.” Bucky hums, closing the gap between your lips over and over again. 

Your loud giggle fills the room as Bucky peppers kisses all over your face, trying to make up for lost time. 

“Hey, make sure to use protection, kids!” someone’s voice comes from down the hall from’s Bucky’s room.

“Shut up, Sam!” You both yell in unison, resuming your previous activities.

And in this moment, there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be. 

[stanknotstark]

Odinson M.D. (Loki x reader) Pt. 1

I’m excited for this series honestly. I’m doing a lot of research so I write this medically correct tho, if yall see anything wrong don’t be afraid to tell me ^^

Summary: Y’all wanted a House AU so here it is. Loki is a doctor who keeps most people at bay with his sharp wit and sarcasm. He doesn’t understand the need for romantic ploys and casual human discussion. He thrives in the hospital, trying to figure out the unknown, even if his methods turn a bit morally ambiguous at times. That’s why he has Thor and Frigga to keep him in line although he would argue he has no need for it. You just happen to be a doctor on tenure under Loki’s tutelage along with Steve Rogers and Peter Parker. Can you convince the jaded doctor you’re just what he needs to keep him on his toes? 

Loki feels the, what had started as pin pricks now, full blown boredom eating away at his overactive mind. He folds sticky notes, from his rolling chair, into small balls and flicks them over to his brother, Thor, who stands fiddling with a broken, plastic Santa sitting on the desk they hang around. Thor proudly wears his white lab coat on top of a nice plaid button down and brown, pressed slacks. Loki prefers to stick to his more casual clothes, if not a bit fashionable for casual, for a doctor. He wears a black cashmere sweater with gray, pressed slacks, a nice pair of oxfords to finish his style. It’s enough to keep him warm during the winter season.

Christmas, such a mainstream holiday. Loki abhors this season what with all the festive cheer and decorations that litter NYC. You can’t walk two feet without being guilted into giving money to the people who stand on corners with bells for the Salvation Army. You can’t buy something nice without a cashier smiling at you, as if all knowing, and asking who you’re giving this gift to with cheerfulness in their high pitched voices. What he especially hates is that Odin expects him to show up to the family dinner every Christmas, seeing as Thor has a wife and has to spend half his time with her family. Loki is the black sheep that’s expected to pick up where his brother has neglected. All in all, Loki would demolish this one holiday from existence if he had the even the slightest chance.

The only good thing about being a doctor was that meant he could get away from most of the holiday by working through it. He couldn’t always escape the dinners seeing as his mother, Frigga, was of administration and Dean of Medicine on his floor. Not only did that hinder him but his father owned the hospital, so he was at a disadvantage, if only by a bit. 

“We are condemned to useless labor.” Loki sighs out, his fingers playing with another yellow sticky note, crushing it into a ball. 

“Fourth circle of hell,” Thor replies with a roll of his eyes as a paper ball launches towards him, hitting him in the cheek before falling to the ground. “Charting goes a lot faster when you eliminate all classic poetry, brother.” Thor says lightly. A suggestive twitch of his lips all Thor gives to a bored Loki.

Loki takes time from making paper balls to look over at the pile of charts next to him, sitting on the clinic’s lobby desk, waiting for his attention. He’s sure if the charts came to life they would resemble a dog, desperate for attention, wagging its tail with excitement when he finally looks at it. “Writing down what we already know to be read by nobody,” Loki brings his attention back to making another paper ball, completely ignoring the fact that Thor had rolled his eyes so hard he probably has a headache. “Pretty sure Dante would qualify that as useless,” Loki says lightly, a frown on his lips.

“You’re two weeks behind on your charting!” Thor says with exasperation, stopping his fiddling with the Santa to look at Loki as if he had offended Thor personally. 

Loki flicks another ball at Thor, however he misses his target and, it sails past Thor, hits Frigga on the chest whom had just walked into the clinic. She watches the paper fall to the ground, giving Loki a look of disappointment. The man gives his mother an innocent smile from his seat. “Oops! I missed.” 

“Are you eight years old?” The poised woman asks with a squint in her eyes as she walks over to the side of the desk Loki and Thor reside at. She picks up one of Loki’s charts and reads it with flickering eyes.

“Could an eight year old do this?” Loki asks, catching Frigga’s eyes, and sticks his tongue out at his mother who rolls her eyes. What is it about Loki that causes everyone to roll their eyes? Something he’ll never get the answer to, not because he can’t but because he doesn’t care enough to find the answer when it’s so painfully obvious. 

Loki’s mother lifts Loki’s chart, she had picked up, a little higher as if trying to garner Loki’s attention, after she had finished reading through it, and looks at him with frustration. “You have a patient in exam one, Loki.” 

Loki settles further into the rolling chair, throwing the pad of sticky notes on the desk, bringing his hands together over his stomach and lacing his fingers. Loki embodies the epitome of comfort and relaxation. He shrugs. “Yes but see I’m off at twelve and it’s already five off...” He shakes his head minutely with a look that says ‘Not much I can do’. He’s rather hoping his mother will let him off the hook this one time. He knows she has a soft spot for him and takes full advantage of that. Thor remains quiet on the matter, playing with the plastic Santa that’s supposed to sing when you press its button.

“She’s been waiting for you since eleven.” Frigga says with finality. Setting his chart down, Loki swears he could hear a gravel slamming down, and then she leaves but not without a pointed look at Loki. This meant Loki isn’t getting away this time. He sits there with his lips pursed and a frown etched into his eyebrows as he watches her retreating form.

“Melancholy without hope, which circle is that?” Loki pointedly asks Thor who looks at him with a sympathetic look only causing Loki to scoff and rolls his eyes as he stands, grabs his cane, and makes his way towards exam room one. 

Loki limps into the room, already conscientious about his gold and green cane, making sure it doesn’t hit the wall as he slips into the exam room. 

Looking back Loki doesn’t regret the choices his made on the cane. The man liked attention from the right people. He hates most casual people seeing as he usually finds them boring, predictable, and the need for small talk not something he takes much joy from. The cane definitely stood out and was the starter of conversation for common man that passed him by, unfortunately. This wasn’t enough to make Loki regret his ostentatious picks on his cane though.

The cane itself is light but durable. The stabilizer at the bottom had four anti-slip feet, covered by a wide quad base, all black and shiny. The cane, in all its glory, was emerald green, specifically requested by Loki, and had snakes engraved in the metal base. The snake outline, repeated around the entire cane, were then dusted in gold and, shined pretty and proper when in the sun. The snakes that run from the bottom to the top, run up the cane with open mouths as if devouring the brethren that followed up the last snake. When they reach the top of the cane, the handle’s edge, they stopped. The handle itself was covered in pure gold. The inside of it was carbon so it was lighter to carry but still very durable. The handle was fashioned after the head of a Black Mamba. Sleek and slim but one of the deadliest, most venomous snakes in the world. A symbol of Loki’s true power, or at least that’s what he told anyone that asks. In all honesty, Loki had picked the Black Mamba head because he thought it looked cute. He had a reputation to uphold, however.

Loki pushes his way into the exam room to find three nuns, one on the medical bed with two nuns on each side. As he closes the door he turns his head so he may let his eyes go wide without the women seeing his exasperated look. He turns his head back after the door is closed and he reins in his emotions.

“Hi, I’m doctor Odinson,” Loki supplies the three women, setting his cane aside in the room and looking up at the women with a small tilt of his lips. “What seems to be the problem?” He asks the woman sitting on the bed. 

“Show him your hands, Augustine,” One of the sisters demands of Augustine, the woman on the bed Loki tabs in his head. 

As the woman shifts the cloth covering her hands Loki takes the time to pop a pain pill into his mouth, swallowing without water if only because he’s been taking them for years for his disability. The use of the word disability is new, seeing how he didn’t take to the word too kindly in the beginning. As of now, he has accepted it for what it is and calls it as it should be, a disability. Something that may hinder him but does not define who he is or ever shall be. 

Sister Augustine lifts her hands in front of her and they shake a bit as she holds them out for Loki to examine. They look raw, red, and as if they’re wet but in reality it’s because they’re covered in an ointment and severe rash. They’re pruned as if they spent too much time in water. When she turns over her hands to show him the palms he notes that they’re also raw and red, but more so and bleeding probably from scratching.

“It looks like stigmata.” The sister on the right of Augustine needlessly announces to Loki, or possibly to no one in particular. The other sister on the left shushes at her. Loki has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at her remark. Of course this ignorant nun would condemn her sister for something as simple as an allergic reaction. She finds the rash to be a form of disgrace on her sister. Typical. 

Loki steps forwards, his eyes on her hands, “Must be all the talk around the holy water cooler.” He lightly supplies the three sisters with a joke to break the tension that had risen from the sister’s remark of stigmata. His eyes come to rest on her hands and as he reaches up to hold them in his own says, “You been washing a lot of dishes lately?” Loki glances up at sister Augustine’s aloof face.

“I help out in the kitchen.” Augustine replies. 

“Anything new in the kitchen?” Loki asks, trying to pinpoint what’s causing the rash.

“We just got a donation of pots and pans this week.” The nameless nun tells Loki which supplies Loki with an answer for her reaction. Dish soap, pots and pans wouldn’t have caused such a reaction. 

“I unpacked and washed them.” Augustin gives Loki, trying to help him out.

“Should have spent your time saving souls,” Loki says, his natural sarcasm coming over him, “It’s easier on the hands.” He says with a face that could be taken as contrite but is actually irony. “This is contact dermatitis. You’re allergic to dish soap.” Loki tells the nuns, his mind bored with how easy this diagnoses is. 

As Loki turns to write down his report in the chart one of the nameless nuns speaks up. “Nonsense! We’ve always used that soap, why would it be a problem now?” She asks Loki.

Loki lets his head tilt back as he looks at the ceiling with a playful look on his face. “I’ve been a doctor for years,” He looks at the nun who spoke up, “Why do I have to keep assuring people I know what I’m doing?” He asks rhetorically. Not only talking about the nuns, Loki thinks of the many times where he has had to convince his own mother, and brother, that he knew what he was doing, going so far as to proving it. 

“A person can become allergic to substances they’ve had repeated and prolonged exposure to.” Loki explains, his eyebrow raising perfectly, as if asking if the sisters had any other remarks to make before he looks down at the chart for Augustine to write his report real quick. 

Loki then makes his way to the cabinet and picks out a small box inside of it. “Good news is, free samples!” He gives a fake smile, and excited tone, to the nuns. “I’m giving you an antihistamine to stop the allergic reaction,” He explains his process. “Take one every eight hours, might make you sleepy, and get some over the counter Cortisone cream, for the itchiness.” Loki looks at sister Augustine to make sure she understood his words, nodding at her when she gives an understanding nod, then handing her two pills from the box he had pulled from the cabinet. 

“Thank you, doctor.” Augustine says with a small smile and nod.

“Want me to get some water?” Loki asks the women. 

“I have some tea!” A nameless nun says, grabbing her thermos and giving it to Augustine.

Loki nods at the nun and backs up to pick up the chart. “Relax for a minute, the pills work pretty fast.” Then he leaves the room thinking he is done for the day in the clinic, thank god. 

Loki throws the chart on top of his other charts he had left on the desk with Thor, in the lobby, and sighs as he limps around the desk and to Thor’s side.

“Still out by twelve.” Thor says, more so to grate on Loki’s nerves than anything. 

Loki lets it go but replies, “How do you solve the problem of dermatitis.” 

“Doctor? I want to thank you for your patience.” A sister says interrupting the conversation Loki was about to have with Thor. One of the sisters from Augustine’s side now stands in the clinic’s lobby with Loki and Thor. Her face showing she genuinely means it.

Loki manages to give Thor a disparaging look when he asks, “She talking to you?” As if shocked Loki was getting any kind of compliment. Loki can’t fault him there, he isn’t used to getting compliments either. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t bask in it but it is a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t know, she’s certainly looking at me...” Loki says back to Thor, shifting his weight from foot to foot in discomfort. He turns, watches, as the sister makes her way over to him, standing a little over a foot away. Enough distance to be comfortable since she is a stranger but a little too close for Loki’s comfort anyways. He hates people, so physical, so sentimental. 

“It’s so good to get a secular diagnosis.” The nun offers Loki with a gratified look on her face, her body swaying with her words like she really means them. 

Loki feels the frown come over his face and he tilts his head down at the sister. 

“The sisters tend to interpret their diagnosis as divine intervention.” The nun explains to a bewildered Loki. 

“And you don’t?” Loki asks, his voice not betraying his confusion but it’s definitely there. This sister is very...different from regular nuns, he can already tell. Her ideologies being promulgated so plainly are leaving Loki in an almost disoriented state. “Then you’re wearing an awfully funny hat.” Loki says, his sarcasm coming out to hide his true feelings on this whole conversation. The sister merely tilts her head with a look that says ‘Very funny’. 

“Oh boy.” Thor whispers behind Loki. Loki can feel him shifting as if he wants to escape this situation just as much as Loki. “Excuse me.” Thor says grabbing all his charts and reports so he may make a swift exit. Loki glances back at Thor, his face now shifting from its usual neutrality to a look of perplexity and a hint of longing as he wants to leave too. Loki looks back to the sister, hiding his emotions again as she speaks.

“If I break my leg I believe it happened for a reason. I believe God wanted me to break my leg,” The sister says, her face showing nothing short than utter earnestness that almost makes Loki gag. “I also believe he wants me to put a cast on it.” The sister finishes causing Loki’s lips to twitch upwards and forget his brief nausea. He likes her, something no one that truly knew him would take lightly. 

“Doctor! Something’s wrong!” The other sister says loudly as she races into the lobby. This breaks the little moment the sister was having with Loki and he stands at attention. 

They all make their way back to exam room one with hast in their steps and Loki’s limp. 

When Loki enters the room he finds Augustine to be hunched over, rapidly breathing but the air is filled with wheezes as if she can’t get breath into her lungs. Loki quickly tabs this as an asthmatic attack but grabs his stethoscope and brings it up to her chest. “Lift up your chin.” He demands softly, letting the stethoscope land on her chest when she does and moves it from the left to the right side listening to her lungs and heart as she panically breathes in faster. 

“Sister you’re having an asthma attack, I need you to relax,” Loki drops the stethoscope from her chest, taking it from his ears, and turns to the drawers in the room, “Roll up her sleeve, please.” He demands of the sister next to him. He quickly picks up an syringe from the drawer he opened and turns back to sister Augustine. “I’m going to give you epinephrine,” He explains. “It will open your lungs and help you breathe.” 

Loki uncaps the shot, by mouth, and quickly sticks the sister’s arm, injecting the liquid components of the epinephrine into her upper arm with fluid movements as if he’s done this a thousand times before, because he has. 

Loki looks up at sister Augustine to assess the situation. The cap of the needle still in his mouth which he lightly grinds around with his teeth, almost nervous but not quite.

Everything is quiet for a moment. Loki takes this time to remove the needle from the sister’s arm and replace it with a cotton ball which he presses to her skin with moderate strength to stop any blood flow that may have followed the intrusion. 

“What happened?” One of the sisters ask. 

Loki foregoes the answer to that question to ask his own, “Did she take the pill?” He looks at the sister next to him, the one that had warned him of the situation and had stayed behind with sister Augustine. The one that had called it stigmata.

“Yes.” She says in a tone that betrays confusion and defensiveness.

“It’s an allergic reaction.” Loki explains ignoring the sister’s emotions at his question. 

“She’s allergic to an anti-allergy medicine?” The same sister asks in an incredulous tone now. 

Sister Augustine sits there taking in small mouthfuls of air, as if she now understands breathing is a commodity. Her body is still hunched over as she grabs at the medical bed with a white knuckled grip. Loki looks at her sympathetically. “How are you feeling?” He asks thinking about what variations he can use to treat her allergic reaction on her hands now that the blood rushing experience is over. “I’ll put you on some steroids instead.” He decides out loud, capping the syringe he used and throwing it away in the designated red safety box.

“Is my heart supposed to be feeling so funny?” Sister Augustine asks breathlessly, Loki watching as she brings a hand up to grab at her chest. 

“It’s called adrenaline, makes the heart beat fast.” Loki says flippantly but puts two fingers on her pulse point on her wrist just to check if it’s something worth looking into. Loki looks at Augustine with concern, his eyes flitting around the room in thought, “But not this fast.” 

Sister Augustine takes in a deep breath, wheezing again.

“Get a nurse, please.” He tells one of the sisters in a calm but pressing tone.

Sister Augustine leans into Loki’s body with a whimper and he grabs her so he may lightly rest her on the bed in a supine position. He leans over her watching her and trying to figure out what’s wrong, what could possibly be causing this, and how to fix it, fast. 

“Somebody help!” Loki hears the nun call outside the room. 

His attention is diverted when sister Augustine passes out. He quickly puts the stethoscope in his ears and puts the diaphragm on her chest, checking for her heart beat first, then her lungs. There is no comforting beat to be heard and her breathing has completely stopped as if it never existed, pulling this situation from a simple allergic reaction to something far, far more serious than Loki had anticipated. 

“Somebody get in here!” Loki yells out frustrated no one has answered their calls for help. Finally a nurse in blue scrubs comes in, realizing the situation is of immediate emergency and looks at Loki so she may help. 

“Call a code and charge up the defibrillator, she’s got no pulse.” He says speedily, starting to perform CPR on sister Augustine. The nurse flees from the room in record time to grab a defibrillator and yell at someone to call a code blue. 

Loki manages CPR for a few minutes until the defib team comes in and takes over. They only barely manage to bring sister Augustine back to life. 

Loki stands at the doorway, the two other sister next to him praying, he bites at his thumb. His mind is racing with the need for an answer. What caused this? What was he missing? It’s an allergic reaction, there’s no doubt about that, nonetheless he can’t figure out why everything he tried sent her into further shock. She couldn’t possibly have been allergic to everything he gave her, antihistamine and epinephrine. There is a factor here that he doesn’t know about, something is missing, and he would figure it out if it was the last thing he did. 

Loki barely glances at one of the sisters as they take a drink from a thermos before going back to saying their Hail Mary’s. 

Tagging (because they showed interest for this series): @rosaline-black​ @blueberrynonnie​ 

I won’t tag yall in any other posts unless you specify you’d like that! i just wanted you both to know i started it and if you’d still be interested 😊

[bloodorangesoup]

Oh, Don't Mind Me | B.B.

Summary: Reader is having a very good day, including a damn good sandwich and an adorable dance session in the kitchen. Bucky observes with heart eyes. Slow dancing ensues.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: None, complete fluff

My Masterlist

Notes: This is my first writing on here, let me know what yall think! Hopefully, as I continue writing I’ll get better, but for now, I liked this. Also, I do not and will not respect the rules of grammar surrounding punctuation and quotation marks because they do not, as Marie Kondo says, spark joy. Happy reading!

Spring had finally settled in Upstate New York leaving the air fresh and the flowers bright. It was one of those days that just flowed. Gliding by breakfast, you had already turned in a mission report that was supposed to be completed a few days prior, took a shower, tidied up your room, and started lunch. There was a steady buzz of contentment in your head, a result of the day’s effortless productivity and quiet atmosphere.

Putting together the last pieces of the sandwich you made for yourself, you chose to ride the high of your productive buzz and wash the dishes you used before eating. Never had you felt so happy washing dishes. The water was just a little hotter than warm and felt relaxing. Even after the knife and cutting mat were clean you let the water run over your hands, taking in the steam rising to your face causing goosebumps to appear on the area of your arms that the water didn’t cover. Everything just felt like it was in place, it just felt good. When you finished, you dried off your hands and poured yourself some water, admiring how pretty the droplets of condensation looked on the glass.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., play my favorite playlist, please,” you chimed into the empty kitchen.

“Playing your most played playlist on Spotify,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoed through the room. You silently thanked Tony for his genius idea of connecting all the team’s Spotify accounts to F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s system. With that silent thank you, When A Man Loves a Woman by Percy Sledge began softly drifting through the speakers in the kitchen and adjacent living room.

You felt like you were floating. The floor to ceiling windows in the hall let in the sunlight and you closed your eyes as it touched your face and spread warmth all over you. Leaning against the counter, you opened your eyes and turned for a moment to pick up the first half of your sandwich. Closing them again, you took a slow bite and slowly chewed, letting your shoulders drop and letting out a hum of pleasure. Maybe it was the perfection of the moment, but it was a damn good sandwich.

With a small smile lifting up the corners of your lips, you began softly rocking your head side to side with the slow rhythm of the song. The smile on your face grew as you felt the music course through your ears, down your neck, into your chest, and through the rest of your body down to the tips of your toes. Taking another bite of your sandwich, you pushed off from your spot leaning against the counter and stood in the space between the counter and kitchen island for a few seconds before letting your whole body rock side to side just like your head had before. With the combination of the lack of duties to worry about, the satisfaction of such an excellent sandwich, the sun glowing across your skin, and the music coursing through your veins, you felt completely and utterly at peace.

About fifteen minutes prior, Bucky had just finished a workout session. Once his hair was literally dripping with sweat he decided it was about time to get cleaned up and see what you were up to. He happily got to his room, showered, and changed into fresh clothes with nothing but you on his mind. He checked your room to find it empty and assumed that, without a text telling him otherwise, you were probably in one of the living rooms or the kitchen.

Not wanting to disrupt the quiet that settled over the compound on this day, he didn’t call out for you and figured he would see you eventually. He padded through the hall and heard the distant drone of music playing from the kitchen area. Smiling to himself, he remembered how excited you were when Tony had sent out the text telling the team he added Spotify to F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s system.

He recognized the song as one you had put on a playlist you had made for him at the beginning of your relationship. He had worked up the courage to ask you out, after a few months of intense pining and a lot of pep talks from Steve, and later that night received a goodnight text from you including a link to a playlist titled “For Bucky”. The song was about two decades after “his time”, but after seeing how much you melted at it, it quickly became one of his favorites to listen to.

Once he finally reached the source of the sound, he halted to a stop at the doorway of the kitchen. To his delight, you were exactly where he thought you would be. However instead of simply making something to eat, you were dancing in the middle of the kitchen. Eyes closed, grooving to the sounds of the speakers, the light hit you in a way that made his breath hitch and a lump form in his throat. You looked adorable, gorgeous, absolutely beautiful. The song playing also brought right to his attention that, in addition to adorable, gorgeous, and absolutely beautiful, you were also all his. All of that, your soft humming to the music, your unabashed smile, your hips swaying back and forth, was all his. The sight of it alone made his mouth gape open a little and the back of his eyes sting with tears that hadn’t yet formed.

But before he could get completely swept away with his overwhelming adoration for you, you turned around and opened your eyes for a second to take another bite of your, once again, amazing sandwich and came face to face with Bucky. It startled you enough to make you jump and look away in exasperation of the small scare. Bucky chuckled to himself at how cute you could be and leaned against the doorway. You looked up at him with a face that clearly said “how long have you been standing there and how much did you see?” Ignoring the silent question, Bucky decided the opportunity was just too good to pass up teasing you a little.

“Oh, don’t mind me, doll, keep going.” He couldn’t help the little grin that crept up his face.

At this point the song had faded out and transitioned into another song. Bucky identified it as one that was also on the playlist you made for him and it made his grin a little wider realizing that it was in fact “For Bucky” that you were playing.

You rolled your eyes, leaned your hip on the side of the island, and decided to verbally repeat your question.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Oh hey, Bucky! It’s nice to see you, I missed you, how was your day?” Bucky mocked, pretending to be you. “Oh hey, y/n! I missed you too, my day’s been good,’” Bucky replied back to himself, making you groan and roll your eyes again.

“Hey Buck, how was your day?” You asked him in the most monotone voice you could use, making sure to exaggerate the annoyed expression you wore.

His grin turned into a smirk as he opted to answer your initial question rather than answer the one he mocked you into.

“I’ve been standing here long enough to see you dancing to our song, angel. Very cute, really.” He teased.

“Oh, shut up and come here” You pouted while lifting your arms, inviting him to take up the open space. He smiled at your change in tone and pushed off the doorframe to meet you with arms wide open. You slipped your arms around his neck, resting them on his shoulders, while he snaked his around your waist. He turned you both so that your back was to the island and he caged you against it. You let your head fall against his chest while he leaned down and buried his head in your hair. You could smell him on his clothes, the subtle musk of his skin that lingered anytime you slept in his bed or cuddled him.

Inhaling and exhaling with a sigh, you ran a hand through the hair at the back of his head, returning to that state of absolute peace, now having with you another reason to feel it.

From inside your hair, a grumbled voice came through, “You know that song you were playing when I first came in, I listen to it all the time, always makes me think of you.”

You couldn’t control the giddy feeling that hearing that left you with. You looked up at him, prompting him to lift his head and peer down back at you. Your eyes met and you smiled wide at him, loving the feeling of being wrapped up in him. He grinned back at you and you couldn’t avoid seeing the look of bliss that graced his face, if you could have it your way you would keep him in this moment forever.

“You said that song was our song?” You asked.

“It’s the song I think of when I think of you, and it’s the first one on the playlist you made for me,” he blushed but then quickly followed up, “it doesn’t have to be our song if you don’t want it to or if you want a different one or someth-”

You moved forward away from the island, pushing him backwards with your hips until you were both standing, still embraced, in the middle of the kitchen.

Shaking your head you hummed, “I love it. Dance with me?” Bucky simply nodded his head, staring at you like you put the stars in the sky.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., play the first song on this playlist again, please.” The sound of the old 60s love song started tuning into the room. You didn’t think your smile could get any wider than when Bucky started rocking the both of you side to side, his eyes never leaving your own other than the occasional glance at your lips.

“You’re so amazing, angel, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk, you’re absolutely perfect yourself, Mr. Barnes.”

This made Bucky completely smile down at you. In that moment neither of you needed words to express the loved and adoration you two shared for each other.

~

Steve walked through the compound looking for Bucky, on a mission to give him back his watch that he’d left in the gym. Hearing your and Bucky’s voices in the living area, he smiled to himself and made his way there. Arguably one of the things in the world that made Steve the happiest was Bucky’s relationship with you. He knew as soon as he had introduced you to the team and could see the way Bucky blushed and got nervous around you that he was a goner. After months of waiting for Bucky to feel okay with dating and feelings and the whole shabang that came with those, he made it his main goal to set you two up. He knew how much you genuinely cared for Bucky and knew how undoubtedly happy you made him, when he saw you two together it served to him a reminder that the world could be good, that things could be bat shit crazy but there was always a silver lining.

Making his way to the kitchen, he ironically stopped at the door frame just as Bucky had, hearing you two together.

“You’re so amazing, angel, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk, you’re absolutely perfect yourself, Mr. Barnes.”

He saw his friend smile down at you and felt the pang of happiness that hit him whenever he listened to Bucky talk about you. He could feel the love from where he stood, rooted in place.

~

Bucky looked down at your lips once more, you copied him. He leaned in while tightening his hold around your waist, bringing your whole body closer to him, and kissed you softly. The kiss sucked the breath from your lungs. No longer swaying to the music, you let yourself lean into him and kissed him back with passion, making him feel how much you loved him. When your body couldn’t supply you with any more air, you were forced to pull back and look up at him. He looked totally smitten. He peered down at you with red cheeks and a relaxed grin, taking you in.

“God, I love you so much, y/n.”

“I love you more, Buck”

“Impossible.”

You gave him a soft peck in response and dropped your head back on his chest as you continued swaying to your song. Finally tearing his eyes away from you, he noticed Steve standing where he had minutes before, with a satisfied smile, nodding his head in approval.

Bucky just smiled and nodded back, closing his eyes and resting his chin on your head. You were his reminder that the world could be good. Things could be bat shit crazy, but you were always his silver lining.

[honestlyfrance]

first lines

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

thank you so much @buckyrhodey for the tag!! miss youu 💕

idk what were my last stories so i went deep for these hehe, mostly a mix of published and wips

1. A Better Starry Night (sam/bucky ; horror)

The sky was silent. There’s a thundering crack from down the horizon, heads turning down by the mountainside. It seems to be approaching — faster now.

2. the sweetest tragedy (sam/bucky; mcd) - def a fave of mine!

It's a goddamn tragedy, it's what it is. You love him but he's leaving, high on euphoria with a rank under his name, you're going to lose him in every universe and there's nothing you could do about it.

3. to cease intimacy (sam/bucky ; first date) - this makes me yearn till this day

It's that moment when your heart hitched in your throat and you're unable to breathe freely, feeling asphyxiation nipping at your veins, it’s like you know that your heart was too full of emotion to function right, too much love that sends your heart running a marathon. It was a good feeling, a blissful moment, yet there was that betrayal within it that makes you question your feelings over and over again because there’s that one question running through your head: “Why is it him?” but it’s all good, everything’s peachy-keen because you don’t have to hide it anymore — you had to show it now, however, and that was a wave of dread coming all at once.

4. hug infinitely (sam/bucky ; protective!bucky)

It’s only a fact that you can’t protect who you love from every little inconvenient thing. You can’t fix every crack in the world just so you could breathe easy thinking your love wouldn’t trip. You also can’t make the sun go away so your love can’t get a sunburn on your nice little beach date. It’s miserable thinking that the world just has it’s ways to hurt your love, but that’s reality, and to have it bother you so much, it’s only a tragedy in three acts.

5. falling in love against gravity (sam/bucky ; sam centric) - i loved exploring sam’s experience with flying in this one

Falling was a violent act. You’ll trust the fall with intent so dangerous it’s almost like a kiss with death, and you’ll love it. You’ll love how you can fall backward and have a night with death. You’ll love how you could close your eyes and never open them again. Yet, you fly instead somehow. You fall then you fly, defying the law of gravity.

6. pine (wip name) (sam/bucky/steve ; thirst tweet acc)

The thing is, it didn't happen suddenly at all. They had mulled it all over, understood the risks and consequences. It's dangerous work, and there's no assurance that they'll make it out with their dignity, but what the hell. The 21st century needed more of Captain America and the Winter Soldier pining over the Falcon; let them be.

7. (wip name after mutual heh) (sam/bucky)

Little boys growing up in grand houses and ocean views are the kind of boys who would like adventure, the kind of boys who would yearn for the woods, and cozy little cabins in farms. Instead, December comes and they grow up smoking like chimneys in winter. Yes, little boys grow up and move into cities with blinking white lights, but they always come back seeking adventure.

8. death speaks (they called it kindness) (sam/bucky ; sam centric ; wip)

They say death aches like a motherfucker. Sam Wilson presses on it like a bruise, wanting to feel something before the sensation leaves his senses. He’ll ache for it, flawlessly manipulating it, and sooner or later, he’ll resurface and regret every single bruise he’d made. They say death licks all the wounds of the forgotten faces away, but to Sam, it’s just unforgivable.

9. milkshakes in two (sam/steve/bucky ; stucky fight for sams luv ; wip)

Truth is, love comes in many forms, but the form of a fist fight at a parking lot in three in the goddamn morning, like a modern-day Achilles versus Hector except they both leave with a cut under the eye and a broken nose instead of, you know, a bloody corpse, is just as romantic as leaving cute sticky notes around the house for them to see. It’s even more romantic if they noticed it, but sometimes a romantic gesture such as a fist fight between two supersoldiers need to tilt towards the murder part of Troy before a certain Falcon could notice.

10. field of flowers (sam/bucky fatws drabble 1x03)

When you look into Sam Wilson’s eyes, maybe you might see something surreal. Maybe something you shouldn’t have seen in the first place. After all, the eyes are the window to the soul, wouldn’t it be quite intrusive to look at him so bare?

(yall know my damn first lines are chunky paragraphs long so more below 🥰 )

11. love sweeter than candy, cavities to the heart (sam/bucky) 

It’s not that Sam despised the idea of it, in fact, he breathes it in like cocaine, feeling the rush and instant fall of his senses, and maybe it’s not actually drugs to him but maybe something milder, like, a kiss, one that is so slow and soft that it makes him scream at the deprivation, making himself aware of how desperate he just was about touch, literally any sort of touch, but then again, it’s Sam we’re talking about; suppressed and no-nonsense, he couldn’t possibly want something so good like some cliche grand romantic gesture that is too cheesy for its own good, and maybe it’s for the best that he keeps quiet about this want because it’s not like he gets it every day.

12. Partners (sam/bucky)

It was in the bathroom of a safe house that Sam Wilson finds himself bandaging himself up. There was a small gash on his forearm from the afternoon before; it ran down from below his shoulder blade to above his elbow, but it wasn’t as deep as it should be, just looking quite raw but wouldn’t need any serious stitching.  He’s been washing the same spot with clean water from the faucet for the past solid half hour, the sound of water gushing echoing in the tiny bathroom.

13.  oranges in october (sam/bucky) - this one!! this!!

You’d think that just because he had wings and he flies, that makes him an Icarus. Icarus fell to his death. He did not resurface, he did not live beyond that power. Sam Wilson soared high into the missiles of war and came back battered and red, dripping love and death as he stands in the aftermath of it all. You think he was an Icarus when he was actually Apollo. Anyone who gets close to him falls to the ocean waves, then sooner than later, he’s left singing eulogies as his heart rattles in a cage.

14.  It Rains Every April 10th (sam/bucky; mcd) - this too! ive been told by someone that this was the most accurate desc of depression theyve seen

Depression hits like a wave on a cliffside — sometimes you see it coming, sometimes you didn’t see it, and sometimes you just let it happen. It sometimes gnaws at your skin, always there, but more of a ghostly hand hovering over you; there’s that presence but you think you don’t have enough proof to prove it existed. Times like these you try your best to move but you become unmotivated, absolutely immobile except for the moments your body decides to exhaust itself for unrelated things you shouldn’t be doing. It takes a toll on you you wouldn’t even realize, and even then, who else realized it? You’re just tired. You don’t cry. You’re just tired.

15. to hold dear (sam/bucky)

Bucky Barnes didn’t want a lot of things. He’s got a really low bar of standards now, even just waking up without a threat on his life counts as a win. He doesn’t even mind if there wasn’t any more soap in the bathroom; he’s just glad he’s got a shower in the first place. Breakfast? God, he’s just glad that he could walk around a house with his guard let down.

i have no more (:

tagging: @enchanted-lightning-aes @siancore @pianistwriter80 @glittercake @lesbians-love-samwilson @mariahthelioness29 @rhodeslabs @lovelyirony :)