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lo1k-diamonds · 3 months

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Call You Mine💜 Chapter 1

PAIRING: idol!Yoongi x OC

SUMMARY: Freya despises everything soulmate-related, but one day her soulmate shows out of nowhere and turns everything upside down.

"Why didn’t you reach out to me?" Her eyes watered in response to his words and he was certain. "You knew who I was, how I was suffering." It pained him to say so, but he knew it was true. It had to be a conscious decision. And he had to know why.

A slowburn rejection soulmate story to make you fall in love with Min Yoongi (again).

WORD COUNT: 7.4k (Total: 297k)

GENRE: Rejection, Soulmate AU, s2l

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: angst, huge ass story that is an emotional rollercoaster, rejection (tho it has a happy ending), OC has a strong personality and flaws (all my characters do really), desperation, explicit sexual content, semipublic I guess?, riding, consensual but there's conflict, soulmate bond is inescapable and shit happens

(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted in December 2022)

A.N. I have this poll I've been meaning to do about my soulmate series and to do so, I thought I should probably introduce those stories first 😅😋Yoongi's story is the third of the Soul Palette Series (but the one that started it all). Again, it is a realistic rejection soulmate story because I wanted a story where the female character doesn't lose her backbone as soon as [insert soulmate] shows in the picture/has sex. Lots of angst and fighting until the stars align ;)

"Poetry, music, a painting, they don’t save the world. But they save the minute. And that is enough.” Matilde Campilho

What were the odds?

“Freya, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I am,” she answered nonchalantly, looking out through the car window.

Her mood soured with the conversation and the woman steering the wheel sighed. “Whenever the subject of soulmates gets brought up you just become…” Freya gave her an ice-cold look from the shotgun seat. That made the woman mad, “Insufferable.”

Freya smirked through her pain and looked away again.

The woman sighed again, “We’ve been friends for almost nine years. Don’t you think I know you by now?”

Freya placed her elbow on the car door, supporting her chin on her hand. Her fingers covered her mouth strategically. She knew the lecture that was about to happen, Lidia never missed a chance to try and change her mind about this topic. She didn’t have the heart or energy to fight it anymore.

“Soulmates are each other's halves,” she started and Freya just clenched her jaw. “You were born with one, two parts of a whole.” Freya couldn’t have heard it or learned it better if she was in primary school. Sarcastic thoughts like that would flood her every time Lidia pulled that sermon on her. “Just because barely half the population finds theirs, does not mean yours isn’t out there.”

“Sure, he might be out there, but I wish to be like the other half of the population. You know, the one that was able to live happily by being with the people they chose to be with,” Freya said with a hint of victory.

“Fair, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that their soulmates are still out there. They might have never met, but that doesn’t mean one should just ignore it or—”

“I’m not ignoring it,” Freya cut, annoyed. “I told you, I never met that person. Why would I lie!”

“I don’t know, maybe because you hate the idea of soulmates so much!” Lidia yelled back, fortunately without taking her eyes out of the traffic. Motorcycles were insane, trying to get in between the moving cars to get ahead. Freya was happy it was Lidia driving them to the venue. Lidia took a deep breath, “If something happened to him, you know you can tell me…”

Freya sighed, feeling stuck in the same loop, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met him.”

She hoped that would be the end of it, for now at least. Lidia seemed fixated on the idea that she was lying about her soulmate, that something tragic had happened, or that she was avoiding the person. Which didn’t make any sense according to her own rules, for fuck’s sake! Wouldn’t she be sick and whatnot if that was the case?

“Fine,” Lidia relented, as she always did when confronted with Freya's bitterness. “I would just like you to be open-minded when you do.”

Freya bit her tongue to hold back her remark and let the car fall into silence. She hated that topic and now it was stuck in her mind. She had never met that person and she never wanted to. She had no open-mindedness to offer because she would never be okay with it. And she wished she could just yell it out until it got through Lidia’s thick sand castles and baby cupids and stupid pink heartshaped butterflies: meeting your soulmate was terrible.

Sure they were supposed to be your other half, but they could literally be on the other side of the world. With different cultures and upbringings, you could be paired with a terrorist, misogynist, psychopath, the list went on. Who was it to say that person would actually fit your personality and values? Absolutely nothing, as history showed. Quite frankly, the fifty percent of the populace that never met them were the lucky ones. Never meeting them meant never experiencing withdrawals of absence. Never bending or nullifying your beliefs and values for the sake of someone else that, though unique, was probably not even the best match for you.

Because let’s face it: though science had proven its existence, who was to say the bond meant the same to everyone, or that it should be the same? For scientists, it was perceived more as an absolute physical attraction that would lead to the best procreation. That had nothing to do with love, with fated partners, or whatever else was mediatized. It all looked more like a romanticized publicity trope used to sell way more chocolates, flowers, and cards than Valentine’s Day. Or to make people feel misfitted and incomplete until they did find that person, instigating them to consume goods, programs, matchmaking events, anything that could speed that along. Why should anyone live with the unrelenting weight of not having met someone they never needed? That could ruin them, their lives? It was all terrible!

She would have known if she had met that person. Though she in general avoided physical contact, the mere presence of the other person was supposed to be enough for the both of them to know. She of course had no idea what it would feel like, soulbonds were also reported with different intensities for different people, but she was sure she’d know if that fateful moment ever occurred. Moreover, she would feel the withdrawal. Though tolerable to some, especially with medication, it would be impossible not to feel anything. She knew that’s how it would always play out: even if she avoided them and ran through the nearest exit as soon as she felt the bond, the need would hunt her, both of them, for as long as they lived. That was something she was willing to endure, though she honestly hoped she never had to. If she never met him, she’d never have to. So, she wished she never would. Simple.

Freya glanced at Lidia, who was now pulling over the security of the event and showing them her badge. Lidia couldn’t possibly understand her standpoint, and as much as they would fight about it, Freya wasn’t interested in shattering her dreams. If Lidia could one day live happily ever after with her fated mate and actually be happy, Freya would gladly support her. She just couldn’t be deluded by the idea like Lidia.

Their nine years of friendship were very precious to Freya. Though the focus on her career had led her astray from many of her friendships, Lidia always stuck by her. She was one of her dearest friends. She would always call and catch up on her, whether Freya was at a fashion runway, strike, or in a warzone. Maybe that was why Lidia was the only person she ever gave two cents to in regard to soulbonding. Everyone else was free to be their own idiot, but Lidia was her idiot. Freya didn’t want to see her get hurt. Lidia felt the exact same way, she knew that. It was the only reason they fought about it in the first place.

Lidia parked the car in the underground parking lot and Freya was forced to move. They were still by the entrance of the arena, the lights from the streets made their way to where they were. Lidia opened the trunk and Freya got her material ready. There was noise in the air and she kept trying to figure out what it was.

Lidia closed the trunk when Freya gave the nod and Freya’s blue eyes widened in shock. Beyond the entrance, behind the security barrier, there was a sea of people. People chanting, jumping, and screaming.

Lidia was smirking at the sight, “Not your typical warzone, is it?”

Freya pulled her camera that was hanging on her chest to her face, regulating the lens to focus on them. They were mostly girls shouting, around their twenties, some if that. They had colorful banners with letters stamped on them and sticks with a ball that seemed to shine.

Click.

She looked briefly at the photo on the view screen, then up again at them. She was surprised.

“No, but similar. What could it be that makes them act like that?”

Lidia was passing her her media badge to access the event.

“Boys.”

He woke up from his nap, dazed. He kept having the same dream. He had had it for a while and in the beginning, he couldn’t remember it properly. Now, he could. No faces or characteristics, but he knew it was always the same person he dreamt of. When he told it to the others, they thought it had to be his soulmate and he had found the idea hilarious at first, that was impossible. But then, with the years, he started wondering. Was it that far-fetched that there was a connection between them if they were two pieces of the same soul? Maybe their pieces had an incredible bond and that was why he could dream of her.

Her. He couldn’t remember much, but he did remember that, which brought more weight to the possibility of her being his soulmate since soulmates were always of the opposite sex. For him, love or a partner was always about the connection, the person, not about their appearance or gender. He never felt like he had a gender preference because he would always look at personality first, but his soulmate would be female and he was okay with it. Though honestly, despite dreaming of her occasionally, he couldn’t conceive a relationship — he hadn’t had a serious one in almost ten years.

Life made it that way, and he accepted it. His career had taken off in a way he had dreamed and actually achieved. He was surrounded by amazing people, professionals, friends, and family alike. He had his fans, who supported him and allowed him to live every single one of his dreams, from making music, to not worrying about money, to being able to support his family comfortably. Did he ever wonder if loneliness was a price to pay for it all? Yes. Did he think it was? No. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, or his soulmate. They would show in due time. He was living, bit by bit, in tranquility.

He of course thought about what would happen if he met her. Seokjin and Hoseok had found theirs and they were exceedingly happy. They gave all others the hope of a lifetime of happiness and fulfillment, though none were particularly searching for it. ARMYs didn't know about their discovery, they had decided it that way. Not even necessarily because of the fans, but because of the sasaengs and paparazzi. The lack of privacy would be overwhelming and the men didn't wish to ruin their soulmates' lives.

If anyone had to choose who appeared the least interested in the whole soulmate trope it would probably be him. Yoongi was known for many things, he was aware, and the top included being snarky, lazy, and perfectionist. Some probably saw him as the most cold, obsessed with his music, a workaholic. It was somewhat true, he shrugged. Ideas were constantly in his mind and he was the happiest if he was putting them to life. That meant spending a lot of time by himself in the comfort and safety of his studio, space, and mind. It also meant he slept a lot. None of those characteristics meant he actually was cold or uninterested in finding his soulmate. Quite on the contrary, sometimes it felt it was the exact piece that was missing. He lived with it, but he wouldn't deny it or reject it if it happened. He would welcome her wholeheartedly, he had been waiting for some time now.

There was pressure to perform in front of thousands of people that night, as it was BTS’s last tour date in Europe, in Berlin. He was very tired, exhausted really, as were the others, but they were persevering. They had to, the quiet that would come after would be both a soothing balm and a curse. They had to make the best of it while they could, no matter what.

He was reflecting on that, at the backstage lounge after having slept a nap. The others were getting ready for the concert in other ways, though they were all quiet as the stress was building up. He walked out to reach the stylist's room and get his makeup done, knowing he would be the last one to do so when he felt it. He stumbled against the door awkwardly, completely taken by surprise. He looked around in shock, meeting the makeup artists’, hairdressers’, and stylists' surprised looks.

She was there. She was there somewhere.

He was there somewhere. Freya was certain of it. She knew she would know when it happened and she knew. She was terrified, petrified in place, but she knew.

“Freya, what’s wrong?”

Lidia sounded worried and Freya blinked blankly for a second. She had fallen against the wall and was now leaning against it. People were passing in between them in that corridor in both directions, oblivious to them, most speaking a language she didn’t understand.

Freya immediately forced a smile, dismissing her question. “I’m fine, I just tripped.”

Lidia accepted it because, in the turmoil of people running around backstage, that wasn’t surprising. Little did she know what happened. Freya was nearly sweating from nervousness, her body too hot to handle the May warmth.

How could that be, she thought, while following Lidia. She had lived in Berlin her whole life, why would it have to happen at a boy band concert? It made no sense, at all. On one hand, she had been super lucky to never stumble on him her whole life. On the other, really, a boy band concert? What if it was one of the fanboys outside?

That was her worst nightmare coming to reality. She wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity, but for fuck’s sake she almost had it. She almost lived a life in ignorance, free of fated bullcrap and withdrawal symptoms. Now she was facing her options: to run away immediately, to finish the job and hopefully never stumble on him, or to search for him. The latter wasn’t an option, and to leave without finishing the job was unprofessional. Lidia had asked her to be there to photograph that piece, the last concert date of the boy band in Europe, and she felt obligated to carry it through. They had an exclusive interview for their culture magazine and those photographs would make the fans go insane. Her professional code was above all else, she had fought tooth and nail to achieve everything she had. She vowed to never let her soulmate change her and it would certainly not start now.

Avoiding the person would probably be impossible, she considered, still following Lidia. The stadium was packed with fans and crew, there was no avoiding whoever it was. Since people kept passing through her constantly, she thought their bond must be pretty strong. Otherwise, how could it be that the sensation wasn’t fading as the person walked past her? They probably weren’t even walking past her. They were just somewhere in the vicinity.

There was no photoshoot scheduled, just the interview. When they walked into the artists' backstage lounge it was relatively quiet. There were seven, distinctively sitting in the corner of the room that had been lit and specially prepared for the occasion. Freya was surprised the artist’s crew had prepared that small arrangement for the interview, as it would usually be up to the magazine to arrange it.

She stayed by the door and grabbed her camera, pulling it to her face.

Lidia walked ahead with a gorgeous smile, “Hello everyone! Are we late? I hope you didn't wait long.”

The question was rhetorical, they were well ahead of time. Freya was immediately immersed in seeing life through her lens. She would do what she did best, soulmate pull bothering her or not.

She did not pay attention to the conversation between Lidia and the publicists, managers, and whoever else. She was certain Lidia pointed at her because she saw it through her camera.

"Just ignore her," Lidia said with a smile, glancing back at the camera. Lidia knew she liked to work in peace.

She wasn't a photographer who would take a thousand pictures to be able to choose one. She would take ten to choose five. That meant being very conscious of every angle, light, positioning, and framing. Everything had to be perfect. She had won awards for pictures she barely had to edit precisely because of her attention to detail. In warzones, she was severely limited in time and supplies, she had to make due. It wasn't the same circumstance, but her work ethic applied.

She liked seeing the crew work around them tirelessly and she wasn't shy about snapping photos of them. She was certain then that the concert was only about 20% the actual musicians. Not to diminish their work, but the show itself was not of their making. They were just starring in it.

The interview was well underway when she turned to the artists themselves. That wasn't problematic, their smile wouldn't change between the first and last question. She actually believed they'd relax more as the questions progressed, making their photos portray their true nature better.

Those thirty minutes flew truly by. She quickly scanned the photos she took through the view screen to make sure she had all seven in perfect soul-capturing moments, but she frowned. There was one that was different. He was speaking in the photo she took, he had an honest expression, and a beautiful complexion, but she didn't feel like the photo was as good as the others. He wasn't captured as well.

She raised her eyes to look at him and her heart jumped a beat. He was looking down, hands over his crossed legs. His hair was beautifully styled over his forehead, he looked almost like a doll. He sure was frozen, but she knew he was listening. His bandmate was answering a question in English and Lidia laughed, not too loud but not fakely either. That man smiled, not out of politeness, but out of understanding. Out of deeper thoughts. Something more meaningful.

Click.

She hadn't even thought of it, she had to capture it. Her stomach was twisting, she wasn't feeling too well. Damned soulbond shenanigans. She usually did very well in crowds, but she suddenly felt claustrophobic. She slipped through the entrance door and left. She was fighting hard for what was happening so as not to ruin her day.

He was barely containing himself. He had an urge, an energy pulse that wanted to pull at him and take him somewhere. He was sitting as still as he could, respectfully listening to the interview and answering when appropriate. He felt his smile might give it away, so he kept looking down. Some of the others noticed and touched him soothingly in worry, patting his back or shoulder softly. He stayed quiet, he couldn’t tell them yet.

When the journalist left and the room emptied a bit in the last ten minutes before the final preparations, he was finally free.

"What's wrong, Yoongi?" Hoseok was worried.

"Yeah, why didn't you answer the next album question?" Namjoon’s tone wasn't of irritation, just curiosity. "It's your question."

"You were really stiff too," Jimim commented with a concerned pout. They were next to each other and Jimin had at one point patted his lower back.

"Guys, let him talk," Seokjin interfered, waving his hand in front of his face. Was he getting hot? Cause Yoongi was burning up, and sweating without the show even starting.

"Look at him, he's flustered," Taehyung commented, looking at him from real close. Yoongi scoffed and brushed him away.

"Here's water, hyung," Jungkook offered him a water bottle which he gladly took.

"Guys," his voice sounded weird even to him. Since when was it this emotional? "I feel it."

"What?"

"Are you sick?"

"Don't push yourself too hard."

"Guys!" He grabbed Taehyung by the shoulders, who was still close and personal. He would have been annoyed if the occasion was different, he really didn’t care now. "I feel it. Her. She's here somewhere tonight. I feel it right now."

Chaos ensued, with some congratulations and some worries echoing throughout the room. They barely had a minute to discuss it with their manager Sejin, the first to be informed.

They were rushed to the level underneath the stage and the manager just smacked Yoongi’s shoulder, "Focus on the show. We'll find her after."

He was nervous now, and not about the show. His mind was processing the facts now. The person wasn't in the crew, he would have felt it before. It had to be someone who entered the venue when he felt it. That could be anyone, from fans to workers, and little could be done to slim the number down from tens of thousands to one. That thought made him despair. How would he ever find her in so many people?

"Hey," Namjoon had his hand over his shoulder. His eyes had a glint of concern, but his expression exuded confidence. "She feels you too." Yoongi nodded, taking a deep breath. "She'll probably come forward after the concert."

"She's probably an ARMY," Hoseok winked. Yoongi just shrugged, he didn't care if she was. That was the least of his concerns right now.

"Just think this is for her, for all of them," Jimin added with a light smile.

Yoongi nodded and rushed to the stage, the same as them. He gave it his all. He was exhausted, but he wasn't giving up. He knew he shocked his brothers because he had probably never shown such a performance before. He couldn't explain it. He had newfound energy, and hope. Things would be different from now on, for the best. The thought that she was listening, and seeing him perform gave him an extra incentive. He teased the public way more than usual. He rarely displayed his English skills as openly, but the circumstances told him she couldn't be Korean. Whoever she was in that crowd, he wanted to make sure she knew they could communicate. Could she even tell it was him? She was probably as lost as he was.

The pull was hard. Freya was facing the whole crowd from that spot, near the stage. She could easily take pictures of the stage, as well as the fans. She was trying to focus on her job, but something kept interrupting her. Sometimes she would feel goosebumps all over her body, though she did not know why. Maybe if that guy stopped talking on the microphone all the time, she could actually hear herself think.

She rubbed her eyes with a sigh; the show was almost ending, it would be over soon. She was particularly snappy because of the bond-induced tension, she knew that. She would be able to leave as soon as it ended, just a little while longer.

Or so she thought. The venue started emptying and Lidia insisted for them to stay. She didn't complain at first, taking pictures of the heartbroken fans when the show ended. Most of them were emotional, tears staining their faces, but they were smiling. For them, it must have been a life experience to see BTS on stage. If only Freya could have appreciated it as much. She also wanted to cry. She wanted to run away so badly.

The venue was nearly empty when a publicist showed up to call for Lidia. Apparently, there were some matters left to discuss. Lidia nudged Freya, saying how nice it was of them to let them experience the concert for free before getting back to business. Freya knew it was nice, but she just shrugged. She wanted to leave.

But she couldn't, Lidia was her ride. She could always run away either way, but it wasn't professional.

"Do you want me to come with you?" She asked, willing.

"No, it's just a meeting. Footage of the fans leaving, the empty poststage and backstage, or even the tired artists are more important. Make it count," Lidia winked before leaving. She probably didn't notice Freya’s expression, as excited as if she was sucking on a sour lemon.

She needed to calm down, she thought. She had to be professional above all else. She could not, and would not, have that stupid occurrence ruin her photojournalist reputation. Over her dead body.

She exited the designated area, aimlessly taking shots whenever she felt it was worth it. She had her bag with other lenses that she would switch occasionally. She got lost.

Yoongi was despairing. He couldn't help it. He wasn't even listening to the argument anymore. He was focused on the feeling, on the internal drum. He was panicked that it was going to disappear in a heartbeat.

"There's nothing we can do! We can't prevent the fans from leaving the venue, we can't force them to leave one by one. Not to mention that just touching the subject would immediately destroy any option of privacy for Yoongi or his soulmate." Sejin was being reasonable, everyone knew that. But one glance at Yoongi's face said it all. It was not enough.

Namjoon kept arguing, but Yoongi turned around to face the mirror, closing his eyes. He felt someone behind him.

"Do you still feel it?" Jungkook’s kind voice asked.

He nodded with his heart tight in his chest. He did feel it, he felt it better now, if that made sense. It was called a pull for a reason. He felt pulled, compelled to move, to go somewhere. He didn't know where, he didn't know if it worked and it was probably not safe for him to leave that room. But he felt it as though he was a compass with an arrow juggling around. No one was going to find her but him. And he absolutely couldn't lose her.

He opened his eyes and confidently walked out, not paying attention to anyone. He didn't notice his brothers calling or manager Sejin telling them to let him go. The venue was nearly empty, maybe one-fourth of the fans were still around. He still felt her, so maybe they had a chance.

He walked to the higher levels completely on a gut feeling. He hadn't even changed outfits or showered yet, he was straight out of the stage with a gray hoodie and black tight pants. He had a black headband over his hairline that kept his short dark brown hair from falling down his eyes and the sweat from dripping. None of it mattered though, he didn’t have time to look presentable, he needed to find her.

When he reached the higher level, he wasn't even afraid to meet fans, the thought didn’t occur to him. He just stumbled, numb. He could barely feel it anymore, it was like a pulled elastic at the end. It was still there, and so was she. Yet, for a second his chest filled with anguish and it physically hurt. He had no sense of direction anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. He was failing and it was useless, he had no idea of what to do.

People were starting to mumble around him and he was brought back to reality. He needed an escape, to hide the repressed feelings that were starting to make his chest hurt. There was a door in front of him. He entered the room, slamming the door behind him.

Freya was walking aimlessly, completely lost. There weren't that many people around and she wasn't really interested in taking pictures anymore. The moment had passed. She hoped to catch the band leaving, knowing that was the kind of shot her magazine could appreciate for the online version of the article.

The more she kept going, the more sure she became that she was going the wrong way. She was effectively ignoring her surroundings and just going. The crew was going in the opposite direction, the fangirls and security too. She tried convincing herself that was totally normal. It was totally her own will taking her somewhere in order to snap more pictures. It was not that gut-wrenching pull telling her she had to be somewhere.

She was walking down a corridor when she suddenly froze. Her body was burning up, her heart racing out of control, but her gut clearly knew that was it. No need to go further. She was deaf at that point, the bond so strong it was a deafening physical energy current around her pushing her in only one direction: the door in front of her.

Everything else was muffled and unimportant. Yet from the outside of the door, she could already feel she shouldn’t open it. The force was so strong it was numbing. Her hand hovered over the door knob and she wondered how it wasn't vibrating with the resonance of such a powerful pull. She wanted to fight it with all of her strength, and her hand trembled. It would change her life forever if she opened that door. She didn't want that to happen.

But she wasn't strong enough, it was just so much stronger than her. She succumbed to it, fatefully so. She grabbed the doorknob and tried to rationalize it. It couldn’t hurt to see him at least once, or at least to tell him she wasn't and wasn't ever going to be interested. Yeah, that's it. That was why she had to get in there. It wasn't that person's fault and she should at least tell him that.

She entered the room quickly, a small meeting room, and closed the door without turning. Inside, the pull became like a magnetic field, all around them like walls, instead of a single string. She turned slowly around and saw a man standing behind the center table, having risen from his chair, staring at her in shock. He was different than she expected, though she expected nothing. He looked tired, that was her first thought. Why was he so tired? His dark brown hair was wet with sweat and falling over his headband. His eyes were smaller than she would expect, and darker. His skin was so pale she wondered if it was porcelain; was that makeup? He was her height it would seem, though bulkier than her. That hoodie did not give much away, but he looked comfortable. She was somewhat happy he was comfortable, despite his tiredness.

Her eyes were glued to him like nothing else existed because nothing else did. She was walking slowly in his direction, completely unaware. She had heard of the trance but she never thought it would be that strong. Her body moved on its own, her mind clouded as if she was high on drugs. She was such a strong-willed person, and yet it seemed all her convictions evaporated. Her legs were jello and would only move in his direction. She argued that it was only physical, her mind was still alert. Yet they were a step away from each other when she recognized her own lie. Her mind was as interested as her body, especially because she recognized him. But from where?

They shouldn't have touched, she thought. As soon as their hands did there was no denying it. There was no reasoning that could explain what was happening, except soulmating. Her chest filled with cheer bliss while her whole body warmed up like crazy as if she was a firework ready to pop in a million colors. And it was strange to recognize the same sort of emotion in such foreign eyes, in a stranger's face. She felt endeared by that face, propelled to care for that person with the clear consciousness that she did not know him. And her heart, or should she say soul, was at peace with it.

She struggled with that thought. First, because she thought they would instantly love each other blindly or something, and she didn’t want that to happen. Second, because it confirmed her own theories that soulbonding would erase her sense of self, her autonomy, and her individuality. She would be damned if she’d ever let any of that happen.

She knew nothing would ever feel the same or compare to him. However, knowing it in theory or feeling it in practice were very different things. Every particle of her body and soul agreed that was it, her other half, and no other person, relationship or bond would ever replace it. She looked at her hands in his and she had to close her eyes for a second to control her emotions. The urge to hug him was making her toes curl.

“What’s your name?”

Her eyes jumped to him and widened. She knew him, she heard his voice a lot tonight. She pictured him without the headband in a pretty black suit and she gasped. He was one of the guys from the band! She was completely shaken to her core; how was that possible?! Weren’t they from the other side of the world?

Then she shook her head, but of course he was. He didn’t live in Berlin, or else they’d have met before. He only happened to come to Berlin, and she only happened to be invited to work that piece last minute. Lidia would call it fate.

“What’s your name?”

His voice gave her goosebumps. He was saying it in English, not German, but she was totally fine with it. Despite the slight demand from his voice, he was using a loving tone. A soft caress to her ears meant to not trouble her. But she was troubled, deeply. She fought to keep her mouth shut, clenching her teeth and looking away. She saw his chest heave to take in a breath before insisting on knowing her name and she panicked. She couldn’t deny him if he kept asking, her soul wouldn’t allow it. So she kissed him.

She censored herself for a millisecond before their lips touched. Kissing him went against everything she stood for. First and foremost, because she was invading his privacy, his personal space. She was attacking him, sexually assaulting him for fuck’s sake. Soulmate or not, that couldn’t be taken lightly. Second, because it was disrespectful as a whole to kiss someone without knowing if they consented. What if he had a girlfriend or was married? Third, because she wanted to keep her distance from her soulmate. They were never supposed to have met, let alone touch or kiss. She wanted to leave, run away, and never look back. No matter the pain it would cause them both. That was too selfish of her and the more they dove in, the more she would hurt him, wound him. His soul, the other part of her. He was an unlucky bastard to be fated to be her other half.

Despite the flawless logic in all of those thoughts, she couldn’t stop her lips and he didn’t seem to mind. He was surprised for a second, before supporting her waist with his hands carefully while she grabbed his head in place. For someone who wanted to run away as soon as possible, she sure was keeping him firmly in her grip.

She forced him to walk back until he was against the wall. She did so because now he had nowhere to go, she could press her body against him. She felt absolute ecstasy running through her blood. She could not stop kissing him. She could not be stopped. She vaguely thought the only way would be for him to ask it, and she doubted he ever would.

His hands stayed respectfully at her waist, frustratingly so. It was infuriating in a way how he seemed to be more in control than she was when she was the one who didn’t want this to happen. She should be outraged that they were kissing without her consent. She didn’t have the mind space to think about that though, she would reflect on being a hypocrite later.

For now, his lips tasted like heaven. She was going into all the corny tropes because they fit exactly how she felt. She was riding the wave of a rush and it was divine. She had never been high on LSD or cocaine, but she imagined it came close to that. Her tongue had no problems invading his mouth, provoking hot waves of pleasure to reverberate through her whole body. The way he just accepted it, as if giving her the full reins of it, stupidly turned her on, egged her on. He was the only one who could stop her, why didn’t he?

She fought hard to stop their makeout session and pulled away, panting uncontrollably. She was eating him alive. So much for saying ‘goodbye, let’s never see each other again’.

“You… What's your name?”

Their faces were still glued together, his arms around her. She pushed herself away and turned to the side, covering her mouth with her right hand. Somehow, pulling away from him exhausted her. She felt like even gravity was against her. She stayed like that, panting at a short but safe distance, looking at him.

After a moment of silence, he walked to a chair and sat down. The corners of his lips were raised in a small smile, he looked calm. He had all the time in the world, it seemed. Well, she didn't, she had other things to do. Like running away and never look back. Stupid soulbond was too heavy, her legs were stomped.

He pointed at the chair across from him, on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."

She wanted to scream. He was being so gentle, so condescending. Was she an idiot that couldn't keep herself away? Y- No. She wasn't a fangirl. She was a hard-working adult. An award-winning photojournalist. She was in control. Mostly. She couldn't even look away from him, that empty chair had nothing on him.

She tried calming herself down. She took her camera strip out of her neck, letting the camera sit on the table, and then she also dropped her lens bag on the floor next to it. Her breathing was stabilizing and she swallowed dryly. He was patiently waiting for her. He looked like a mythological God observing her, a mere mortal, to cope with his presence. And she had all the intentions of kneeling and begging for whatever mercy he could give.

She scoffed and pulled her copper hair back, out of her face. It was good. That soulmate thing… It was strong. She never thought it would get to that point. She knew when to admit defeat. And that was certainly, still, not the time to.

She took a step forward, convinced that she was in control. She was going to put her hand on his shoulder and say, ‘I’m sorry it had to be me. I’m not interested. Let’s forget this ever happened.'

Her hand actually hovered over his shoulder for a moment, when her blue eyes deviated to the exposed skin of his neck. Her hand trembled while she struggled between her wills, visceral thoughts opposing one another. He must have seen her inner battle because he extended his hand and guided hers to his shoulder calmingly. It tipped the scales.

Her hormones, body, whatever it was took control. What she wanted beyond him didn’t matter, no one beyond him mattered. She felt like everything in life was secondary, a faded background, dim against his brightness. There was only one thing she wanted.

Her leg heaved to the other side of him and she sat on top of his legs. He seemed to be expecting her lips when she leaned forward to greet him. His hands went to rest carefully by her waist while hers kept by his neck. He was taking her kisses fully, meeting her passion without ever imposing. But she was hungry. She started grinding herself against him and as soon as she could feel his hard-on clearly through his pants and her shorts, she just couldn’t stop anymore.

Her mind became foggy and nothing else but their pleasure meant anything. There was something at the end of the rainbow and she wanted it. Not want, want. Like the need to breathe. He grunted and parted their lips, trying to look around, at them, at her.

She got up with a weird sense of ease. She unbuttoned her shorts without ever dropping her eyes from him. His, however, accompanied the fabric’s descent down her naked legs. She pulled her panties down in the same motion and he seemed to understand. His expression was now serious, as she imagined hers. She wanted it, like oxygen. Like daylight. He could stop it though. One word and her world would crumble.

He extended his right hand for her to take. She took it and got closer. He meant to get up, but she stopped him. She unbuttoned his pants herself while her heart drummed in her chest. It wasn’t even about what he was going to look like or anything of the sort. She just had to feel him.

She got on his lap and immediately pulled his erection out. It was hard and shiny, extending proudly upwards. Their eyes met and no words were spoken. His hands were on her hips and she just did what she was supposed to. She sat down.

It had never felt that way before. She was never the most sexual person, but it was not supposed to feel like that. If she had a will, it vanished then. Her completeness could not be described. It was like an explosion of color, like a gust of wind, like the stars on the black pane of the universe. She was a boat looking to anchor, he was the nest she came to sleep in.

Once the cosmic waves were done resonating in her nerves, she opened her eyes, aware. It was like seeing everything blurry and then putting on glasses. She understood. She could barely think, but she knew she understood. And looking at his eyes, she knew he did too. His arms raised around her in a tight embrace to keep her close while her hips started rolling. She felt embraced, and accepted, like a promise was being made. Their bodies were giving something to each other because that was the only way their souls could be one again. That pleasure making her skin stretch was the extent their souls would ever touch each other. That was sad in a way, making her feel anguish. Yet he kissed her chest, right over her heart, making her come to an almost full stop. He was promising. She started moving again. That promise would only be real if they committed. If their souls actually touched and joined.

She had never felt pleasure like that. She thought she would reach her orgasm very soon, but somehow there was more. Like an endless staircase to heaven. He grew impatient with kissing her shirt and forced it out. She gladly helped. His lips on her skin were everything, and she moaned through clenched teeth at the shock. His tongue darted out to feel her breasts, contouring her bra edges and sneaking in as much as he could. She was still going, jumping as low as possible so he could do it. She grew impatient and her hands reached her back to release the bra when he stopped her.

He grabbed her hands, “No, don’t stop.”

It was a catalyst, if there could be one. His hands groped her firmly everywhere while she got lost in the feeling of riding him. She was now moaning with every motion, so ready to reach him whenever he was.

He grunted from the back of his throat, “Fuck.”

She nodded approvingly and felt the instant he was ready. She forced his hands on her breasts to squeeze hard while she sat down strongly a few times, making him go so deep it nearly hurt.

Only it was pure bliss. She closed her eyes and all she could see was golden. Golden waves with particles of light. Her body trembled in spasms, her voice muted without breath. Her body felt like it was hovering in a breeze, floating. She could feel his hands, his body, inside and out. She felt warm and safe. Home.

It lasted maybe fifteen seconds. Then, the golden waves receded, the lights disappeared like stars in the morning sky, her body floated softly to the ground, and it was done. Her head fell over his shoulder and his hand came to rest on her hair. They were both panting. They promised, it was done. She was hugging him as tightly as she could. She was scared to open her eyes.

You can go here to keep reading [ao3] (this story is finished) 💜

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heyiwrotesomethings · 9 months

Note

🐉 anon here! I hope you're doing alright! I hope these request won't be too much! Would it be okay if you wrote about Shinobu with a s/o, she/her, who has that dragon tattoo? Possibly a criminal syndicate but wants to leave her family because of how bad they have gotten! The family found her at a younge age and took her in, becoming the imitating woman she is. But what her boss asks of her is too much and not what she wants to do. So she tries to leave and stagger away from the family, meeting Shinobu in the process! She would be seen as a monster, but she really does have a good heart. Maybe even a slow burn with Shinobu? Those are my favorites! While she stays or keeps meeting Shinobu, the family finds her and roughs her up, she kicks thier ass but ends up being taking down. The boss would come in and try to cut her pinkie off, but Shinobu comes in being the badass queen that she is and deals with him herself, and saves her s/o, with a happy ending! Again, I hope this isn't too much to ask! I love your work!

What Is Right

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Here you go, sorry it took so long! I hope it’s alright, I am having trouble with the December requests that are left. 😫 Word Count: 5,640

“Aniki, are you sure about this? Is there really no other way?”

“Of course not,” Akira scrutinized his adopted younger sister, put off by her reluctance, “That cowardly man’s betrayal killed my father, our father.” He hissed, crushing the remains of his cigarette in his hand, ignoring the burn.

“Then, if it’s absolutely necessary, shouldn’t it just be him who has to pay?” (Y/n) risked speaking out against him yet again, “Why kill his family, but leave him be?”

“It sends a message!” Akira shouted, “He’ll know not to fuck with us again. He’ll be forced to confront what he took from me, us. Don’t you understand, (Y/n)? That’s why I’m telling you this.” He grasped her shoulder a little to tightly to be friendly or comforting. “I’m trusting you to bring honor back to this family. That dragon tattoo on your back isn’t just for show, its supposed to mean something. It’s what unites all of us. Otosan loved you like you were his own flesh and blood. If you want this band of misfits, your family, to continue to have a legacy, you will do this.”

“But, they’re only little kids. Not even his wife knows the shady shit he’s dealing in. And it’s not just that… we’ve been pushing away our allies with the decisions you’ve been making in Otosan’s stead—“

“Do you think this is easy?!” Akira shouted again, getting in (Y/n)’s face, she stayed remarkably calm despite this, “I was chosen to make the choices that no one else has the guts to make! This is what has to be done!”

“I just can’t do it, Aniki.” (Y/n) shook her head, “It’s more than and eye for an eye to me. I think you’re asking for too much.”

“You either do this, or you will be marked as a scourge on this family. The family that gave you everything when you had nothing. You think you repaid us for that debt yet?” He asked coldly.

“I doubt I ever could.” (Y/n) murmured, focusing on her breathing to keep a calm appearance, “I’ll… prepare then.”

Akira searched her eyes for a long moment before straightening up again, “Good. Go on, then. I expect results. You have a week.”

“Very well.” (Y/n) bowed before the young man who had used to be so carefree, then got up and took her leave.

***

It had been a couple days since (Y/n) had that meeting with Akira, and she had yet to carry out her mission. She had shadowed the happily unaware family in that time, and it only made the reality of what she had to do even harder.

She was running out of time, only a few more days before her once beloved Aniki would call her back and put her through god knows what for disobeying him. So she decided to do what any decent person tasked with killing a burgeoning family would do, and got wasted. If she couldn’t do it sober, perhaps she could do it drunk.

But of course that plan went south quickly. Instead of gearing herself up for a bloodbath she was drunkenly sobbing in the izakaya. She had never had to kill anyone before, hustle and intimidate, rough-up, sure, but never with the intent to irreversibly maim or kill. The very public moral dilemma (Y/n) was having was finally brought outside when the owner of the establishment cut her off and sent on her way, leaving her to drunkenly stumble down the road alone.

She barely knew where she was, but that didn’t stop her from picking a direction and lumbering away. She didn’t really care where she’d end up. She wasn’t going to be welcomed back to the family unless she had carried out her job, and she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She knew she’d never be able to go through with it.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Her foot rolled over a pebble as she said this and unable to correct herself, she fell sideways, half in the path, half in the woods. Instead of attempting to get up, she just laid there. Not long after her tumble, she heard the crunch of gravel from the main path, the sound eventually coming to a stop right where she had fallen.

“Oh dear, have we had a little too much to drink tonight?”

(Y/n) managed to sit up on her elbows a bit so she could peer back into the path and her breath caught in her throat. Standing over her was a downright ethereal woman. Oh no, had she hit her head on a jagged rock on the way down? Had she died? Well, that put an end to one dilemma at least.

“Woah,” She said, oh so eloquently, “beautiful.”

“Oh my, thank you.” She chuckled, causing (Y/n)’s heart to stutter. “Here, give me your hands, let me help you up.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to be asked twice, she took hold of the strangers hands, a little more calloused than she would have imagined, and clumsily rose to her feet, almost falling back down a few times in the process.

“You can hardly even stand up. We had better get you home so you can sleep this off. I hope you will have learned your lesson about such heavy drinking when you wake up with a hangover tomorrow.”

Home… (Y/n) sobered just a bit.

“I, I can’t go home!” (Y/n)’s shoulders drooped and the buzz she had going fell flat, “I have no home to go back to anymore.”

The woman gave her a sympathetic look then seemed to be contemplating something before finally speaking again.

“Then I suppose you can stay with me for the night. It’s too dangerous to be out alone at night sober, much less drunk.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me, I’ll manage.”

“Don’t be difficult,” the woman sighed, “either walk with me, or I’ll drag you along. Your choice.”

(Y/n) laughed half-heartedly. “The way my feet keep tripping up you’ll probably have to drag me anyway.”

“I can see that.” She smirked, putting one of (Y/n)’s arms over her shoulders to help her keep her balance.

“My name is (Y/n) by the way.”

“And mine is Shinobu.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Shinobu.”

Shinobu hummed, but did not outwardly share the sentiment and somewhere in (Y/n)’s drunk brain she had the sense to be a bit embarrassed. What a wonderful first impression she had made, laying on the side of the road, drunk off her ass.

“I swear this is not normal behavior for me, you just caught me at a really bad time.”

“I’m not judging you, we all deal with grief in our own ways.” Shinobu told her.

“Grief?”

“Based on the puffiness around your eyes and the way the moon catches on your cheeks, how sore your voice sounds, you have been crying a lot, haven’t you?” She clinically deduced.

Grief… that would be an apt way to describe what (Y/n) had been feeling since her adoptive father had been killed, since everything she thought she knew about her family had crumbled in his absence. How Akira was spiraling in the name of revenge. How heavy and constricting the ink engraved upon her back felt as the days dragged on. How quickly things had changed.

Shinobu led her to an incredible mansion that she couldn’t help but gawk at. The inside was just as impressive. She had half the mind to ask Shinobu if she was a noblewoman, but by the time she had recovered enough to ask, she had already been led to a guest room.

“Drink this water and then rest. I will see you in the morning.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Shinobu gave a short nod and smiled before closing the door.

(Y/n) staggered into the cot and fell into a sleep like death mere moments later.

***

The next morning, almost afternoon, actually, (Y/n) awoke with a brain splitting pain. She could hear whispering around her, but they might as well have been screaming. She groaned pitifully and weakly attempted to shield her eyes from the sun.

“Oh! She’s waking up.”

“Is Shinobu-sama’s medicine ready?”

“I have it right here. Excuse me… Can you sit up please? We have medicine for your headache.”

(Y/n) grunted, slowly sitting up and then putting her head in her hands. Her head was swimming and she immediately wanted to lay back down, but a cup of sludgy looking medicine was soon put under her nose.

“Make sure to drink it all.”

“The smell may be off-putting, but it works really well.”

“Once you get some food and water in you, you’ll feel a lot better.”

Beyond the smelly hangover cure, (Y/n) could smell something good enough to make her mouth water. With great resolve, she downed the medicine and suppressed a gag, finally looking up at the three young girls working around her.

“Thanks,” she sighed, “sorry, I’m normally not such a mess.”

“Shinobu-sama said you were going through a difficult time. We aren’t judging.” The girl with pink butterfly clips promised.

“Here,” the girl with pigtails offered her a generous tray of food, “eat up.”

“You’ll feel better in no time.” The girl with braided hair smiled.

“Thank you all so much, really. This is fantastic.” (Y/n) said between bites.

“We will be sure to let Aoi-san know you enjoyed her cooking.” The girls beamed.

As (Y/n) ate, she chatted with the girls, learning all about the Butterfly Estate and all of its inhabitants. She also learned about the mansion’s purpose, to provide shelter and care to the injured. After her meal had settled, (Y/n) felt almost normal. There was still a bit of a dull throbbing in her skull every once in awhile, but given how much she drank the night before, it was amazing how much good that medicine did for her. She didn’t want to go back to her reality. She wished she didn’t have to leave this oasis.

“So, where is Shinobu now? I wanted to thank her before I left.” (Y/n) asked once she helped the girls clean and prepare the room for any new guests that may need it.

“Oh, she had something come up earlier this morning so she couldn’t come by to check on you herself.” Kiyo explained.

“She probably won’t be back until much later in the evening.” Sumi nodded.

“But we will make sure to let her know when she comes back.” Naho promised.

(Y/n)’s shoulders slumped slightly with disappointment. She had made such a poor first impression, she was hoping to end on a good note at least. There was also the fact that every moment (Y/n) was here, was another moment away from facing her reality. Maybe she could stall just a little bit longer.

“I’d really like to tell her myself… ah! What if I helped you guys with your work until she gets back? Would that be alright? Then I could really show my gratitude to you all.”

The girls gave it a little thought, but saw no harm in getting a little extra help for the day, so they happily agreed. (Y/n) spent the rest of the day sweeping, dusting and washing bedding. She was a little clumsy, and bit too rough and almost ripped the sheets she was scrubbing, but she got the hang of it. It was a lot different from the work her adoptive father would give her.

As she worked, she found out there was more to this infirmary than met the eye. She learned about demon slayers and was fascinated by their cause. It all seemed so noble to her, risking their lives to save unaware people like her from demons who roamed the night. She owed Shinobu more than she knew for last night.

When Shinobu came home around dinner time, she was surprised to see her guest was still there and even more surprised when said guest fell to her knees before her, thanking her so thoroughly for her good deed. Stunned, she blinked slowly then worked her mildly surprised expression back into a kind, yet reserved smile.

“Oh my, you are much more chipper than you were last night. Thank you very much, but please stand, there is no need for any of that.”

(Y/n) stood, but let it be known how much Shinobu deserved every second of praise and appreciation. She bowed again, but only at the waist. It was at that point the younger girls decided to chime in, telling Shinobu about all the tasks (Y/n) had helped them with during the day, so of course Shinobu offered to let her stay for dinner as well, and since the sky was darkening, she invited her to stay another night. Before they knew it, an extra night became two, then three, then—

(Y/n) was running out of time. Her week was almost up, just one more day. She had a decision to make, and she wasn’t sure why it had taken her so long to get to this point, as there was only one correct course of action.

Early that morning, she leapt out of bed to make the treck back to the city. She would come back, of course. She promised Shinobu she would fix all of the clunky sliding doors around the mansion today. She silently thanked the stars for the millionth time that she crossed paths, er, fell into the path of such an extraordinary woman. She was going to follow Shinobu’s example and live a life she could be proud of, a life her adoptive father would have been proud of.

“You’re up early.”

(Y/n) nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Shinobu call to her from the engawa, a cup of tea in hand.

“When I told you the doors could wait until the morning, I didn’t mean dawn.” She teased.

“Ah, right, but I’m actually heading to the city. I have some affairs to get in order, but I promise I’ll take care of those doors as soon as I get back.”

“Is that so? Well then, safe travels. Be back before nightfall and stay away from any alcohol while you’re out.”

“I’m telling you that was a one time thing!” (Y/n) said in an exasperated tone.

Shinobu chuckled and (Y/n) smiled despite the jab.

“I’ll be back later in the afternoon, try not to work too hard!” (Y/n) sent Shinobu a wave, then bounded off of the engawa and left the estate grounds.

When she made it to the city, she kept a low profile, staking out a certain home as she had earlier in the week. At this time, the man who had killed her adoptive father with his cowardice and big mouth was busy at his day job while his wife took care of the children at home.

She took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. When the wife answered, (Y/n) asked to come inside and explained all that her shady husband had been up to and why it was important for her to take her kids and leave the city as soon as possible.

(Y/n) expected to have to persuade the woman further, force her out the door if necessary, but it seemed she already had her suspicions about her husband’s strange behavior. Hearing gossip about people seeing him in the Red Light District, and him claiming they had barely enough money to make ends meet despite the large amount of money she had found hidden away in the back of one of his drawers. She had been waiting for answers before doing anything rash, but (Y/n) provided her the last bit of incentive she needed to skip town with her kids and take her unfaithful husband’s money with her. Her parents still lived in a little known mountain village a couple weeks journey from the city, they would go there.

(Y/n) helped the woman and her children pack up their most precious belongings and got them a ride that would take them to the city limits where a carriage would be awaiting them next. When (Y/n) saw their car disappear around the corner, she left the crowded city herself, finally allowing herself to really breathe for the first time all week. There was no turning back, but that was fine. She felt so much lighter.

She couldn’t risk showing her face around town any more than she already had today. It wouldn’t take long before her betrayal was discovered and Akira would send the clan after her. What her punishment would be, she was not sure. However, under Akira’s harsh leadership, she was sure it would not be pleasant.

She stomped down the anxiety fluttering within her. She was on a better path now. No more shady shit, she wanted to put her strength to good use. She was going to ask Shinobu about becoming a demon slayer once she returned to the mansion. When she got back and took care of the doors like she promised she would, she did just that and asked Shinobu about becoming a demon slayer. Shinobu didn’t seem surprised by (Y/n)’s interest, but she did try to dissuade her from taking that path. However, with passion and persistence, she did finally manage to get Shinobu to give in and introduce her to a cultivator.

“But… I thought you were going to teach me.” (Y/n) had sheepishly admitted when Shinobu dropped her off on the first day.

“To start all the way at the beginning with the fundamentals of proper swordsmanship and Water Breathing would be… how can I say this kindly… tedious and not worth my time.” She answered with a mischievous smile.

“That didn’t sound kind at all!”

“I’ll tell you what, you do well, and I’ll give you a supplemental lesson here and there.”

“I’ll hold you to it!”

And in the next few months, (Y/n) learned a lot. When the time for the next Final Selection came around, she would be well prepared. Between what the Water Breathing cultivator taught her and what Shinobu refined with her own expertise, she felt confident in what she could accomplish. Maybe a little too confident.

“Can I come with you this time?” (Y/n) asked hopefully as Shinobu packed a light bag of supplies for her mission.

“I will tell you what I always have. You haven’t passed Final Selection yet. It would be unwise to bring you along.” Shinobu said, snapping her small medical kit shut. “I mean no offense when I say this, but I don’t want to have to worry about you while I have to focus on doing my job.”

“Please?”

Shinobu gave (Y/n) a smile that was paired with a look she knew all too well at this point. The ‘I’ll leave you in charge of all the most annoying chores while I’m gone if you keep this up’ look. (Y/n) pouted.

“I don’t get it! Why can’t we have supervised missions? Don’t you think it’s a little extreme to go from training without seeing a single demon, to a several nights of fighting them alone in the woods? I trust that everyone is doing their best to prepare me, but it would still be helpful to see what I’ll be up against in the future.”

Shinobu considered this as she checked over the experiments scattered around her lab one last time. It was a fair point. People tended to either go in with too much confidence or went in terrified over what to expect. Many fledglings had been killed by getting stuck in their heads and forgetting all they had been taught.

She would hate for (Y/n) to meet the same fate.

“Very well,” she sighed, “you may come, but,” she pointed her finger towards (Y/n) in warning, “you are only to observe from a distance. Do not attempt to engage unless absolutely necessary. If you go against me, I will make sure that you will never be cleared for final selection. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes! I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise!” (Y/n) eagerly held out her pinky and Shinobu sighed again inwardly before hooking their pinkies together.

Hopefully she wouldn’t regret this decision. It was getting harder and harder for her to deny (Y/n) anything. Despite the undesirable first impression and how rough she appeared around the edges, (Y/n) was a true sweetheart. She had a very abrupt introduction to the mansion, but quickly became another familiar friendly face within its walls. It would be devastating to see her life cut short.

“So, where are we going?” (Y/n) grinned excitedly and Shinobu couldn’t help but smile as well.

“A village to the southeast.”

***

Everything had gone smoothly until it hadn’t.

Shinobu had left a small trail of poisoned demons in her wake, (Y/n) safely observing and cheering her on at a distance, until two other demons had snuck up on them both. While Shinobu was busy taking care of one demon, (Y/n) had to defend herself against the other. Shinobu had lent her a Nichirin Sword for just such an occasion, but (Y/n) was having a hard time reading the demon’s erratic movements and had been slashed half a dozen times across her arms, legs and back before she finally managed to behead the thing. It hadn’t been very clean, but she gave a triumphant, albeit breathless shout of victory.

She had then turned to Shinobu, excited to she her reaction to her hard fought kill, but that fire died immediately when she saw how angry Shinobu looked as she strode towards her, the last demon melting into a pile of goo behind her.

Instantly (Y/n) felt the need to be defensive. “You- you said I could defend myself if I absolutely had to! Everything’s fine, right?”

“Everything is not fine!” Shinobu dropped to her knees beside her and opened her medkit, “You are covered in wounds! If you had a uniform, you wouldn’t be hurt half as badly. You might even get an infection on top of all of this. I shouldn’t have let you come.”

“Hey, none of this is your fault. That demon scratched me all up, not you.“

“You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if I had left you at home.” She restated stubbornly. “Now show me your wounds, the sooner I clean and wrap them, the sooner we can get home so I can give you proper aid.”

(Y/n) let Shinobu clean and wrap her calves and arms, but when Shinobu began peeling back her clothes to try to work on her back, (Y/n) froze.

She had been rather vague with Shinobu about her past. How could she tell Shinobu she had been raised in a criminal syndicate that took a turn from admittedly kind of in a grey area, to definitely irreprehensible? That the night Shinobu met her, she was trying to gear herself up to kill an innocent woman and her children? No, she couldn’t. She could only imagine the disgust Shinobu would feel, the betrayal. (Y/n) suddenly felt ill.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Shinobu asked. She tried to peel (Y/n)’s clothes from her back quicker, worried she was having some kind of reaction to the demon’s attack.

(Y/n) tried to pull her clothes back up over her shoulders, but Shinobu was faster, a quiet gasp that felt deafening in (Y/n)’s ears left Shinobu’s lips as the spiraling dragon tattoo was revealed. The blood seeping from the gashes across (Y/n)’s back making it look even more ferocious.

“When did you get this done?” Shinobu lightly poked her shoulder blade, the dragon’s snoot.

“A few years ago.” (Y/n) mumbled, pressing her palms together.

“Why haven’t you told me about this before?”

A weak hum and a shrug of the shoulders.

“You know,” Shinobu traced the coils, making (Y/n) shiver, “I have heard about a group of criminals that bear similar tattoos…”

(Y/n) broke down and told Shinobu everything about her up-brining from when her parents had gone out on a routine fishing trip and didn’t come back, up until the night they met, now months in the past.

“I understand if you don’t want me around anymore. I’ll—ah!”

Apparently Shinobu had been treating her back throughout her tale, as made evident by the sudden tightness of the bandages around her torso.

“That’s just foolish. Do you think I’m afraid of a little ink? Do you think I would ever be afraid of you, (Y/n)? Let’s think logically here.”

Shinobu proceeded to verbally beat some sense into (Y/n)’s brain. Reminding her of all the good she had done in the last few months.

“There is no better place for you than the Butterfly Estate. It’s a much better fit. Isn’t that right?”

Before (Y/n) could collect herself enough to respond, she felt Shinobu pinch her skin lower on her shoulder blade.

“Yes, you are so very wise Shinobu.”

“Why thank you.“

(Y/n) blinked, turmoil somewhat pushed aside for the moment. “Are you… pinching my skin to make it look like my tattoo is talking?”

“I’ve patched you up as best I can here. Get dressed, it’s time to go home.”

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” (Y/n) fumbled with her clothes then stumbled to her feet to catch up with Shinobu.

It was a little awkward on (Y/n)’s part as they walked back to the mansion, but once the fact that Shinobu still liked her caught up to her, the conversation became more natural and by the time they returned to the mansion and Shinobu completed the finishing touches to (Y/n)’s care, (Y/n) felt a familiar weightlessness and with Shinobu’s teasing pokes, the tattoo on her back didn’t feel as heavy and constricting anymore.

***

In the following weeks of recovery, (Y/n) and Shinobu grew quite a bit closer and many residents of the mansion took notice. The touches that were a couple beats too long when they passed the other something, the lingering looks, and most damning was how Shinobu would put off some of her work to join (Y/n) for a meal or a chat and a walk around the garden, knuckles brushing as they went. (Y/n) couldn’t help but feel hopeful that Shinobu might want to change the nature of their relationship as well.

On this lovely summer day, she was prepared to share her feelings, for better or for worse. She had already planned a little outing that Shinobu agreed to join her on. Nothing too grand, just a sweet little picnic in the woods near the mansion. It was pretty much a date already. She had woken extra early that morning with the intent of getting everything in order before they left, but when she walked past her window, something on the sill outside caught her eye. A letter.

She opened the window and took the letter and wasted no time in opening it. The curiosity she had felt chilled into a heavy feeling of dread.

Traitorous coward, the letter read, If you have any ounce of honor within you, you will come to the cemetery and accept your punishment for deserting the family, or we will burn this mansion and everyone in it to ash.

There was no sign off, but (Y/n) didn’t need one to know it was Akira. She let the letter flutter to the ground and jumped out of the window so as not to be caught running down the halls. This was her mess to deal with. She would not allow anyone to be hurt because of her.

Part of her was hopeful she and Akira could talk it out, but she knew that wasn’t going to be very likely. Whatever happened today would be the final wedge between them.

She went to the cemetery and walked to the very last row. Though it was not specified, she had a feeling she’d find him near his father’s grave.

“There you are.” Though she expected it, (Y/n) stiffened at Akira’s icy tone. “Look who left her comfy new castle to finally face the consequences.”

“Aniki—“

“No, you are no sibling of mine. Not by blood nor bond.” Akira sneered, “I trusted you to do the right thing for this family. You’d think after taking you in, you’d have a sense of duty to avenge the man who took you off the streets and put food in your mouth.”

(Y/n) stood a bit taller, holding her head high, “I don’t regret letting them go. They did nothing wrong. I heard all about how you got your man in the end. That was all that needed to be done. It’s over.”

“Not until they’re all dead.” He growled, then sighed. “Here is how this is going to work. You tell me where they ran off to, or you will pay dearly.”

“I won’t tell you anything.” She declared almost talking over him with how quickly she replied.

“Oh, trust me,” he glared, “you will.”

People (Y/n) once considered family and friends had quietly surrounded them as they talked. And now were charging at her with the intent to harm. She managed to hold them off for a time, even incapacitated some after all the training she had done to become a demon slayer thus far, but between being outnumbered and her wounds still relatively fresh, she was beaten to the ground and held there at knifepoint barely able to breathe with the combined weight on top of her back.

“Start with the fingers.” Akira ordered cooly. “If she manages to hold out, we’ll move on to the toes. But before all of this is done we also have to take that tattoo back as well. Try to be as delicate as possible. I want to dry it out and hang it on my wall. My father always said it was one of his favorite works.”

“Stop!” (Y/n) squirmed beneath the weight, struggling to pry her wrist out of one of the many grabby hands. She closed her eyes and grit her teeth tightly, anticipating the first slice, but then she felt some of the weight get yanked away and her eyes shot open, craning her head back, she was surprised to see that the Calvary had arrived.

Inosuke cackled and crowed as he swiftly kicked outward like a hurricane, Kanao weaved behind thugs and struck them in their weak points, toppling them. Tanjirou delivered a few swift headbutts and even Zenitsu, though screaming, came through as well. Last but not least, Shinobu floated gracefully to the ground behind (Y/n), her smile too sharp and her eyes to dark to be considered kind. Her gaze was trained on Akira, challenging him.

“My home is filled with an array of trained fighters at all hours of the day, and our allies are many. You had best cut your loses and move on with your miserable life.”

Akira ground his teeth together and his eyes flickered all around him to see just how overpowered he was despite how small the opposing group was in comparison. He determined his clan was no match and called back his gang to retreat, but not before giving (Y/n) one last hateful glare.

While Inosuke cheered and cackled wildly around them, Shinobu dropped to the ground beside (Y/n) to check her over.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Show me.”

“I’m alright, you guys got here just in time. How did you know where to find me?”

“I believe we had a date planned for today.” Shinobu reminded with just the tiniest hint of attitude. “I went to your room, saw the letter on the floor and rallied the troops. If something like this ever happens again, you better tell me instead of running off by yourself. We are stronger together.”

Now, Shinobu had a lot to say just then, but (Y/n) was still fixated on the first line. A date. She saw the outing to ask if she wanted to date as a date in and of itself!

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Shinobu asked, tilting (Y/n)’s head in her hands, “Are you concussed?”

“No! I mean, I don’t think I am, I just, you just—“

“Yes?” Shinobu coaxed with just a touch of impatience. If there was something wrong, she wanted to know about it as soon as possible.

“You-me-we-us— date?!”

Shinobu laughed, it was a little more unrestrained than her usual chuckles and it made (Y/n)’s heart palpitate.

“Yes, is that not what this outings was supposed to be?”

“Well,” she flustered, “technically no. It was supposed to be like a pre-date to ask if you would like to date… it sounds kinda silly when I say it out loud but—“

Shinobu then sighed and rested her forehead against (Y/n)’s. “I think it’s cute. But we can just start dating now. I think we’ve beaten around the bush for long enough.”

“Y-yeah? Okay.” A smile spread across (Y/n)’s face. “Awesome.”

Shinobu took (Y/n)’s hands in her own and placed a quick kiss on her cheek before helping her to her feet.

“Why are you stumbling around like you’re drunk?” Shinobu asked, finding it difficult to keep (Y/n) upright. “Perhaps I should check your pupils again.”

“No, no, I’m good! Great, even! A goddess just kissed my cheek!” (Y/n) beamed, hooking her arms around Shinobu’s shoulders.

“Don’t make me change my mind.” Shinobu warned, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

On the tail end of the sweetness of the moment, Inosuke butted between them to tell Shinobu how hungry he was despite Tanjirou, Kanao and Zenitsu’s best efforts to keep him back. Shinobu chuckled and nodded in understanding. They all marched back to the mansion and enjoyed a hearty breakfast together with the rest of the Butterfly girls, (Y/n) and Shinobu sitting hip to hip during the whole lively affair.

#demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #shinobu x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #requests #🐉 anon

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onceuponapuffin · 3 months

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My Good Omens Season 3 Predictions

Based on the Amazon Playlist and Established Patterns in S1 and S2

I’ve been listening to the songs on the official playlist that Amazon released in December, and I’ve been thinking about it non-stop. It’s been long enough, and now I feel like I have a solid enough footing to have ideas about season 3 based on the information given to us by the playlist (especially the songs Neil provided). Keep in mind that this is my speculation only. I may be entirely wrong, this post may age poorly, but I am okay with that. At the end of the day, I know for absolute fact that I will be THRILLED with whatever season 3 actually brings (But please – for my sanity – let there be a happy ending for Crowley and Aziraphale).

First of all, we know the season was outlined back in 2005, and I would assume (for the sake of this post if nothing else) that by the time the s3 announcement came, Prime had the general outline. And so, in the spirit of how this show does things, the playlist is full of Clues.

GIF by fuckyeahgoodomens

I’ll put the songs in parenthesis as I go.

Between “Before the Beginning” and “In the Beginning,” i.e. Flashback 1:

We’re going to start the season with Crowley’s Fall (Midnight Rain). Neil has said that he’s not going to ever tell us Starmaker’s name, so I’m not expecting that. But we know that each season starts with a prologue, and we also know that these flashback mirror the current events. Crowley’s Fall makes a lot of sense to start with because it is the first thing that pulls him and Aziraphale apart. And where are we starting from in present day? The Divorce.

How Are Crowley and Aziraphale Doing?

Bad (I’m a Mess). Crowley presents fine to the world, but we, who know him, can see he is struggling. I don’t know if he’ll actually go to therapy, but I would adore it if we got a glimpse of Crowley trying it and being like “NOPE” when it got too hard. He keeps expecting Aziraphale to walk around every corner, and keeps replaying the divorce in his mind (Just My Imagination).

Aziraphale isn’t doing well either. The Kiss, and by extension his last conversation with Crowley plays on his mind all the time (Could’ve Been).

Very soon after the playlist was released, one of my Good Omens friends on Discord (I forget who it was, I am so sorry), suggested that maybe Aziraphale is communicating with Crowley through his dreams. Honestly, I am so on board with this. With the number of songs that mention dreams and daydreams in this playlist, there is no way that Crowley’s dreams and/or imagination won’t play some kind of role in this season (In Dreams, Just My Imagination).

Minisodes

The Titanic

I think the most interesting thing is that we’re going to have at least one minisode about them alone through time. It’s something that we haven’t seen before, and it parallels their current journey.

That being said, I think one of these will be the Titanic (My Heart Will Go On). Here’s how I see it happening:

Crowley is the one on the ship. He’s not there to sink it, he’s just there to enjoy himself. Maybe he plays around with the kids a bit, maybe he makes friends. Point is, the humans have built this supposedly-unsinkable ship of dreams and he just has to see it. He’s there when it sinks. Maybe he even tries to save people or get the other ships to come faster, but he can’t save everyone.

Heartbroken, he returns home to his dark flat. He doesn’t turn on any lights. There are two envelopes waiting for him. He sits at the table to read them in the dark. The first is a commendation from Hell:

“Great job sinking the Titanic! Downstairs are Very Impressed with your work, as always!” He scoffs and tosses it aside. The second one is from Aziraphale.

Oh great, he thinks, Just what I need, a little ‘oh how dare you drown all those people you evil demon you.’ when I’m already feeling like shit. He opens it anyway. The first lines read:

“My Dear Crowley,

I heard that you were aboard the Titanic when it sank. Are you alright?”

Crowley breaks down and cries. ~End Scene~

1941

The playlist has Heart and Soul on it, but not a recent version – it’s specifically one that was recorded in 1939. So we’re almost definitely getting 1941 Part 3.

GIF by mimisempai

We’re going to find out what happened to cause their huge shift in dynamics from Date Night to 1967, and I think it’s a kiss. Maybe a kiss on the cheek? I’m not entirely sure. I do hope they get to slow dance to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square though.

The Reunion

My friends, it will not go well. This is one of the songs that Neil chose – Cry Me a River. It just reeks of Aziraphale coming back and Crowley being (understandably, and rightly) being bitter towards him. Aziraphale will, eventually, I’m sure, get back in his good books, but he’s gonna need more than an I Was Wrong Dance to do it.

(Actually?) Saving the World

Okay so being perfectly honest, the only reason either of them are the lead characters in this series is because they’re so freaking loveable. They are very bad at their jobs. Anathema, Newt, and Adam saved the world in S1, and although the Husbands gave Adam a little pep-talk, I think he’s smart enough that he could have managed it on his own if he had to.

So, this time they actually need to save the world and have an actual plan. This is where I think a second body swap will happen – hear me out! First of all, remember that no one aside from Gabriel (who is Someone Knows Where), none of the angels or demons have figured out their trick from the first time. So I don’t think it is the plan, but I do think it will be part of the plan. Where am I pulling this idea from? The Show Must Go On, another one of Neil’s choices. It sounds like it’s from Aziraphale’s perspective, but Queen songs are usually associated with Crowley. Seems odd, right? Maybe because it is. Maybe because they swap.

The Book of Life

I think we’re going to see The Book of Life, and I think it’s going to basically be The Book of Love. I think this is where we’re going to get the Main Thesis. The Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything, if you will. Love. It’s supposed to be Love.

The Book of Love – another of Neil’s choices.

Epilogue

I predict they get their South Downs cottage (Neil said “not yet,” which implies it’s coming). And there’s also a wedding, though I’m not sure whose it will be (The Book of Love). I REALLY hope that it’s Crowley and Aziraphale, because they deserve that kind of happy ending, and Neil is too much of an Ally not to realize how important it is that they get to Live Happily Ever After.

One Last Thought

I still have no idea what to make of I’d Rather Go Blind. That’s it. That’s the last thought I wanted to share that doesn’t really fit in anywhere else.

Thanks for going on this journey with me. Let’s make our Bingo cards and see if I managed to get anything right in 3-4 years.

#good omens #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens season 3 #season 3 predictions #season 3 speculation #aziraphale x crowley #good omens fandom #i'll be fine as long as they get their south downs cottage ending #season 3 playlist #playlist analysis

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pinksatinsashes · 5 months

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The end of the year is the best time of year for us self improvement obsessed girlies because the planners are out, everyone's making vision boards and its finally time to write a nice long list of New Years Resolutions and achieve precisely nothing! Nothing!

Then the end of that year comes and we start the cycle again, making lists, checking them twice, achieving absolutely nothing, staying exactly the same and sometimes worse! How exciting! :)

When I was 16 I thought I'd have my life together at 18...lol! When I was 18 I figured I'd be totally together when I was 20. I'm 20 now...I think I've genuinely gotten worse.

But this year I am determined! I have said absolutely no more, absolutely no way is another year going to pass me by and I'm going to be stuck here in the exact same place. I NEED change.

Your 20's are meant to be the 'best years of your life'!

This is probably the easiest I'm ever going to have it! I have no children, no husband and I don't pay rent yet, if I don't do it now I will never do it..I don't want this to be my life forever.

Want to know how I'm going to make this year my year? Keep reading.

About two weeks ago I coined 2024 as the year of the Glow Up and started to meticulously plan out exactly what I wanted out of it.

My main goals for 2024 are:

To Hit My Goal Weight.

To Save Up Enough Money to Move to London.

To Be 75% of my Dream Girl

There are tons of other things I want to achieve of course, but If I don't achieve those three 2024 would genuinely have been a waste of time for me.

Now a couple years ago I would've just written those two goals down, put them on a vision board and went about my business...but Oh No, not this time.

I had a nice long think about the person I wanted to be at the end of 2024, financially stable, clear skin, goal weight, ready to move in spring 2025, closer to God, found her signature scent.

Each of these goals had a wider theme:

Routine

Fitness and Body

Food

Skincare and Hygiene

Beauty & Makeup

Hair

Clothes

God

Books & Brains

Music

Budget

I fired up Notion, created a home page that had a sub page for every month and then finally I created the Overall page, which has a sub page for every Goal Category and then I broke down each goal into lots of SMART goals. (Specific Measurable Achievable Realistic Time-Based)

So my 'get down to my goal weight' goal became:

Fitness and Body:

[ ] Size 10 clothes or under and 140 lbs (I'm 5'9 with naturally big boobs so this is my ideal weight)

[ ] Hour Glass Figure, building up glutes and upper body

[ ] Maintain Goal Weight for at least 3 months

[ ] Able to Stair Machine for 10 minutes

[ ] Able to go on a full Run

[ ] Do at least one form of Excerise a day

[ ] At least one form of Excerise a day

[ ] Take the Dog on Daily Walks

Food:

[ ] Try 12 New Recipes

[ ] Learn How To Cook 4 Different Nigerian Recipes

[ ] Form Consistent Eating Routines

[ ] Eat out twice a month or less

[ ] Stay in a Caloric deficit until I reach my Goal Weight

See how much more specific this is?

Having my goals listed like this makes everything so much easier because I'm tackling multiple things at once. First I'm changing the majority of my goals to habits or tasks (things I can control) from outcomes (things I may not be able to control).

Now I know that if I do all of these things written out, staying in a caloric deficit and excising daily there's a 90% chance I'll reach my goal.

This is much more effective than writing an outcome with no plan on how to achieve it.

From here, I'll break the Goal Down Even Further, into monthly goals.

For example, to reach the goal weight Goal by the end of December, January may look like this:

Eat at 1500 calories a day or 10,500 calories a week (to allow for the high calorie company lunches I often attend as part of my work, I'll simply eat less on the other days

Go to the gym 4 times week,

Complete X Fitness plan

Go on one Dog walk a week

Meal Prep ever week.

Lose 10lbs

To Save enough Money to Move to London by the end of the year, January might look like this:

Prep for no Spend Months in Feb and March (stock up on skincare, budywash etc)

Meal plan every week

Sell £200 worth of clothes on Vinted to spend on Spring Wardrobe (I'm not buying any clothes unless I use the money I get from selling my current clothes)

Stick to Budget

My Goal to get Smarter and Stop Mindless Scrolling may look like this in January:

Read at least 1 book

Listen to 4 Podcast Episodes

Limit Social Media use to 1 hour a day

Write 6 Blog Posts

Watch one Documentary

Setting the tasks in this way also allows me to feel a sense of achievement, every month I'm able to tick off my goals which can increase my motivation, instead of writing down a list of things to do and forgetting about it until the end of the year. It also allows me to recognise when I'm going off track faster and adjust for the next month.

You see how this is better?

I was strategic in using notion because I knew that I could then use it not only to set out my goals, but as a home base, a setting point to house all the things I could use to achieve them.

Under each section I've also included a bunch of things to help me, the Food section for example has a list of my go to recipes, so that when I can't think of anything to eat and want to run over to the closest KFC I have something to choose from. The Hair section has a list of hairstyles I've done and the Pro's and Cons, the Skincare section has a list of the products I've tried, if I liked them and If they worked for me.

Each month has its own page with a section for each wider goal and a spot for me to have a monthly write up, detailing what works and what didn't work so I can change and approve the following month and prevent falling behind.

I'm determined to make this year my year so let me know if you'd like me to keep you updated, feel free to ask any questions or send them to my asks. Also let me know if you want my notion template, here's a little peak-

Till we speak again!

-hannah🤍

#level up mindset #hannahlovesyou #level up #hypergamy #black femininity #black hypergamy #hypergamous #black women in luxury #glow up #new year #new years resolution #new year new me #dreamgirl #dream girl #lovehannah

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sorenphelps · 4 months

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All the artwork I made for the fanfic Crazy Ex-Boyfriend by @amethystheart2421 for this year's @rsbigbang!

It was a wild run, we got paired up quite late due to our original pairs dropping out of the Bang, and even though it was already December and time was running thin, I decided to make this whole deal a way bigger challenge than it supposed to be... So I ended up drawing all 7 fantasy sequences, trying to mimic a different style for all of them, and finishing both versions of the banners I had in mind. I know, I know, but I swear even I wasn't aware that I am such an overachiever either!

Also, I usually like to hide little details as easter eggs on all of my artwork, so naturally this was the case with these too. I'm gonna list them one by one, also share a little story about each piece, sort of like a "directors cut werk", just so we stick to the screenplay motif. The numbers in brackets lists the order in which I drew the pictures.

The banners (1.,9.): I haven't watched Crazy Ex-Girlfriend the show, so I really had no idea about this whole thing, hence my initial idea of re-drawing one of the official promo posters of the show as the banner. But then Nicole shared the first scene with me when we got paired up, and also told me that her original artist wanted to draw the stargazing scene, which I also really liked. I sketched out both versions to see which one would look better, and also to warm up a bit for this version of the characters. (Nicole also shared some faceclaims, so except Sirius' and Lily's design, I tried to stick to her vision as much as I could.) The Netflix poster was considered the final one for quite a while. The stargazing banner was the last piece of artwork I finished, which I also edited to be used as Chapter dividers. I liked the idea so much I actually referenced the starry sky on the other pictures too. On the Netflix banner, Remus' socks and Sirius' suit handkerchief (how do you call those things in English, gahh) both have the starry pattern.

The western (3.): By this time it was decided that I'd do all fantasy sequences in a different art style, but I couldn't really come up with any specific style which could have fit the western vibes, so the characters are drawn in my own usual style, only the colouring is different. I tried to go for a sepia effect, without using a filter, I think I could pull it off well enough. I was considering to draw Sirius as a Native American for this, because I just don't see him as Caucasian in general, and also, Black Dog sounds like a badly translated indigenous name... But I discarded this idea for the sake of "historical accuracy" (and to save time, haha), as I think they wouldn't visit a saloon this way. I added the starry sky pattern to Sirius' handkerchief and... scarf? (I really should learn how certain textil items are called in English...) There is a wanted poster in the background with Voldy. And I swear I didn't mean to draw Remus looking this horny, it just kinda happened by accident! He is sure VERY fascinated by Sirius'... pistol.😜

The Star Trek (6.): My original idea was to draw like usual and just add so many lensflares to the picture that it's not visible if I copied another style or not. But in the meantime I started to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds with my bf and also found out that there is a new cartoon too, so it was then settled. This style is very different from my own, but it was so much fun! It was weird not to draw every single strand of hair in excruciating detail, actually that was the hardest part, haha! I struggled a bit with the placement of the lensflares too, the first version had too many and too bright, it had a disco vibe rather than a spaceship. I wanted to add easter eggs to the background screen, but I was running out of time, so there's only one light blue star similar on the screen! Also now I know that the uniform colors are not really consistent in Star Trek, and Remus’ might have had to be gold as Captain…🤷🏻‍♀️

The Disney (2.): This one sparked the first idea in my head after I read all fantasy scenes Nicole kindly shared with me. When I first sketched this, I still had no idea that I will end up drawing for every chapter and the style copying was not settled either. It started with this piece, I had the vision of the wolf chasing scene from Beauty and the Beast, and we were discussing whether it's plausible to collect berries during the winter or not... I've tried to make the final piece look as classic Disney as I can, and since I could pull it off, it was not a question anymore whether I'd try to do this with other styles for the other scenes. Retrospectively, this one was the easiest to make, apparently my usual style is not that far from Disney (I grew up watching those movies, so it's not a surprise), but I had to really focus on drawing the animals, it's been ages since I last drew any! (The trick is to give them eyebrows, and bam, it's Disney style!) Sirius' armour, clothes and sword has the star, and I also designed his own "crest" with the black dog and a star on his shoulder plate. The whole concept of the picture is Sirius' side being very bright coloured, while Remus' with the scary wolves in the background being very dark. This might have worked better if it was not set in the winter, but I wanted to stick to the Beauty and the Beast vision I had.

The Comicbook (4.): I was very excited for this one, I really like the looks of the old Batman the animated series, and the way some of his comics are drawn. It's such a unique style, I really like the simple shapes and bold contrasts. Well, it turned out I am very bad at this! I struggled quite a bit trying to capture what I had in mind, but I couldn't even come close to it... So I kinda cheated a bit because I just traced the lineart directly from the reference pictures of Batman comic books I found online. I tried to make Remus less buff, but it looked very weird, so I let him keep his muscular Batman body instead. I drew the wolf mask and the whole Sirius panel, and the coloring went smoothly after I finalized the lineart, even though I only realized that I switched the colour schemes of Remus' superhero outfit when I looked up the quotes for the comic panels, oops. Overall I like how it looks, but I am not that proud of it as I had to "cheat".

The Hobbit (5.): I've probably spent the most time with this one! I actually really like Martin Freeman as an older Remus FC, so I was quite excited to do this piece. My original idea was to mimic John Howe's style, as he is the Tolkien illustrator god, but his level of skill and mine are very very far from each other... and as I struggled a lot with the Batman piece, I felt like going for a smaller challenge. That's why I decided to have a go at Alphonse Mucha's art nouveau style. Turned out it was the worst possible idea! 🤣 The whole point of art nouveau is depicting attractive ladies in an ethereal way... But if you switch the ladies with a fat hobbit, the vibe def won't be the same! The first version just looks so extremely absurd, it's both awful and hilarious. By the time I could fix the pose so it wouldn't look as ridiculous, the final style looked nothing like art nouveau... I still have no idea what style it is now, not my own or any of the ones I tried to capture, that's for sure. I considered adding the star pattern to that tablecloth, but I decided that the lupin flowers in the foreground and the whomping willow-like tree are enough reference for this pic! I like how it turned out in the end tho, I think I could do justice for the watercolor-looking coloring technique, and the end result looks a bit like a fancier version of old children's book illustrations... Which is essentially what The Hobbit is, so it all sorted itself out by the end.

The Anime (7.): I like anime (I'm a little picky about them tho), so it was not a question that I would give this style a try! I am a huge fan of cyberpunk (the genre), so initially wanted to do that, I'm such a slut for Ghost in the Shell and I really like the aesthetics of the Akira posters, but after reading the actual scene, it was not really fitting. So I saved the cyberpunk AU for later, and went for the post-apocalyptic vibe instead. Obviously anime had a great influence on my art style, so similar to the Disney one, it was not that much of a challenge to mimic it. However I'm not that good at drawing backgrounds, and oh boy, I really made myself get over this obstacle with this series of pictures! Also as I was more comfortable with this piece, I actually added the starry sky pattern from the beginning to the scarf/blanket Remus has on this picture!

The Sitcom (8.): The original idea was to copy Hanna Barbera's old family cartoons' style, but as my deadline was very close and after reading the scene I realized that it will have a shitton of characters, I quickly abandoned my original plan. So this one is drawn in my own style, sort of, the designs of the characters are more aligned with Nicole's vision (sans Sirius, Lily, and partly Peter). The hardest part was definitely to figure out how I could fit 10 characters into one picture, let alone sitting in a living room! Also, I had to actually draw the living room too, considering perspective and scaling... Something I am not that good at. In the end the coffee table is maybe a little too big, but I needed that to hide the legs of the characters sitting on the sofa, haha! Also, the sofa is the Millennial Dark Green Velvet Sofa, because I also want to have one and it really emphasizes the general existential dread! (Just kidding.) Also also, I just realized that I have no idea how to eat tacos without making a mess (they are not that popular where I live). I added the starry sky pattern to Sirius' shirt, and gave a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles T-shirt to Peter, as he is talking about that in the scene. I wanted to squeeze in further references to the newspaper Remus is holding, but it was too tiny. The star from Knight Sirius' armour is in the background on the bookshelf. Also that globe just makes no sense but I had no better idea how to fill the empty space 😅. Molly is holding a mug with "BEST MOM" written on it, and I intentionally made Marlene's eye colour the same as Remus', who btw should have worn a bathrobe according to the original scene, but it was too late to fix that by the time I realized it. All in all, I am quite satisfied with how it turned out, it has the necessary sitcom vibes. And it is kinda a record for me in terms of number of characters drawn (the most was 12, but that one has no background, so I'd call it a tie!)!! I am very proud of myself for pulling this piece off, it really is the achievement of the year!

TLDR; (I mean really, my rambling is just too long!) I am happy that I was paired up with Nicole, working with her was such a creative process! My absolute favourite thing to do is work on AUs, and she has provided me with the opportunity to do so, I am grateful! It was truly a pleasure to participate in this (even if it's not that clear from all the complaining I just had above, haha)! If you ask me nicely I might show you the cursed first version of the hobbit picture!

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stormwaker · 7 months

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Help with surgery funds

Shwmae pawb; I've never done this before and I probably won't do it again, because the embarrassment might eat me alive, but I don't have much choice right now. For those of you who don't know me, I'm a 23-year-old intersex guy who, as of last year, escaped two decades of horrific domestic abuse. I was 92 lbs (5'9") when I left and my health was in terrible condition, but I've put in non-stop effort to get on my feet, and I've managed to get my GED, a place of my own and a stable job after starting from nothing. My finances have been extremely tight due to saving up for one of my sex assignment surgeries this December, which was the only available timeslot for the next 2-3 years. I am able to cover the cost of half of it (4000-4500/9000$), but the rest is due in full by Dec. 1st, and I have no idea how I'm going to get enough money in time. I was expecting the cost to average between 3000-5000$ but was quoted at 9k by two different surgeons. I've been living at subsistence level, usually only spending 12$ on groceries every two weeks, and I work 60+ hours a week at 16/hr to try and build as much savings for this as possible. I'm committed to taking back the life that was stolen from me. I just don't know if I can do it all on my own. If there is anything anyone can do to help, please support me here (or share the link with others): https://www.gofundme.com/f/vvptu9 Also, please don't give anything if you're hurting financially. The last thing I want to do is ask for help from people who already need it.

#I don't know what to tag this as #support #I guess?#intersex #lgbt

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zombspidey · 22 days

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intro ⋆ READ B4 INTERACTING ⌁

my name is ajax/reo (you can call me either of those names) my pronouns are he/xe i am a minor (i'm 4teen) and i used to be @spinnspidey, @radiospidey, @knifespidey, and @razorspidey (that was the more known one) but i got t worded (again…) to whoever got me t worded, block dnt report. thanks!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა yeah so heres my intro. i'm a little bit of a weirdo if i do say so myself and i'm heavily tumblr obsessed so yeah i'll be on here nd i'll probably post a lot ^^ i'll post whatever goes through my mind which might be bad so warning on that. i might show symptoms of mental illnesses and if i do then mb idk not really my problem… but heads up i WILL say shit that shows that im not doing great. please do not try to save me or smth. also im looking for friends so bmf i promise im nice. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT PROMOTE ANYTHING THAT I POST. I AM POSTING AS A WAY TO VENT.

more info + stats under the cut!!! (tw for talking about sh + ed. don't like, don't read.)

sh﹐tw . . . ⋆ i have been cvtting since 2022 ⋆ i have hit styro ⋆ only styro on my thighs ⋆ i am not allowed to cvt anymore (unfortunately) ⋆ i have cvt my thighs, arms, stomach, and neck ⋆ most scars on thighs + arms ⋆ mostly cat scratches ⋆ all scars have healed (or are almost done in the process of healing) ⋆ my parents found out so i can't do it for now… (⇀‸↼‶)

ed﹐tw . . . ⋆ i have always hated my body ⋆ started trying to lose weight january 2023 ⋆ started around december 2023 (probably before, like over the summer but idk…) ⋆ 160 cm (last time i measured myself at least..) ⋆ sw 57.6 kg (bmi 22.5) ⋆ hw 60 kg (bmi 23.4) ⋆ lw 49.8 kg (bmi 19.5) ⋆ cw 49.8 kg (bmi 19.5) [have not updated recently] ⋆ gw 1 50 kg (bmi 19.5) ⋆ gw 2 45 kg (bmi 17.6) ⋆ gw 3 40 kg (bmi 15.6) ⋆ ugw <38 kg (bmi <14.8)

dni . . . ⋆ basic dni (idrc ngl, do what you want but don't report me thanks) ⋆ judgmental people ⋆ people who have mdni in their bio (i am a minor so??) ⋆ nsfw accounts (this means people who post/reblog nudes. if it's just text, it's fine) ⋆ overly sensitive people ⋆ people who aren't ok w dark topics/get uncomfortable by stuff like that (this is more for you than for me, i dont wanna make anyone upset) ⋆ people who get triggered by talking about sh, ⭐️ving, alcohol, etc… (yes i am aware that it's bad, no don't come to my dms with a savior complex telling me to get help. i'm trying to get help) ⋆ i block freely btw cuz ik a lot of ppl dont respect dni lists + theres people who are unavoidable at times…

byi . . . ⋆ if you interact with me, i might seem excited n stuff ⋆ i might sound like i'm flirting but i'm not (i have a partner and i love them) ⋆ i can make a lot of sex jokes ⋆ i am very immature ⋆ dnt try to "fix" me, i'll probably block you or ignore you ⋆ i'm a little unusual so yeah ⋆ dnt be scared to interact w me i luv talking to peopleヾ(≧∇≦)ゞ ⋆ i am not pro €d or $h i just post about it and my experience…

fandoms . . . ⋆ hypmic (hypnosis mic) ⋆ genshin impact ⋆ paralive (paradox live) ⋆ servamp ⋆ tougen anki ⋆ karneval ⋆ bsd (bungou stray dogs) ⋆ seraph of the end ⋆ litc (lost in the cloud) ⋆ kagerou daze ⋆ the case study of vanitas ⋆ pandora hearts ⋆ enstars (ensemble stars) (i am KIND OF a part of it because my ex filled me up on a lot of lore when we were together…) ⋆ pjsk (project sekai) ⋆ theres probably some others but i forgot…

interests . . . ⋆ vkei ⋆ scene ⋆ anything bloody ⋆ cannibalism (ooh edgy) ⋆ tortures ⋆ psychology ⋆ music (i listen to vkei, scene, metal, etc…) ⋆ vampires ⋆ fanfiction (mostly genshin but other stuff occassionally) ⋆ true crime (im not tcc) ⋆ rarepairs (mostly genshin) ⋆ bats ⋆ writing ⋆ books ⋆ etc… ⋆ btw if youre interested in any of these or are interested becoming friends PLEASEEE message me 🙏🙏😓 im looking for friends pleaseplwaseplease

tags . . . ⋆ i tag all my posts with #zombspidey ⋆ i tag my normal posts with #zombspideys normal posts, meaning they are unrelated to $h and/or €d related things ⋆ i don't have a specific tag for $h/€d/vent related things so beware. i usually put a warning on all my posts like that at the end of the post tho ⋆ i tag my moodboard with #zombspideys moodboards ⋆ i tag stuff about me/my life as #zombspidey diary ⋆ i tag my rants/more serious posts with #zombspidey rants ⋆ block any of the tags or my blog if you do not wish to see it!!!

other links . . . ⋆ fanfic/dead dove: do not eat blog ⋆ poem blog ⋆ carrd

remember!!! block DONT report this blog if you need to ^^ this blog is meant as a way to vent my feelings/talk about my feelings so please don't dm me about how its bad. i am aware.

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 years

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“I have lov-liked you since eighth grade”

pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Byers!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

series masterlist

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

previous chapter next chapter

Once again, everyone was split into groups.

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

“This is bullshit.”

“Language.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ew. Jesus-”

“God-” Both of them voiced their disgust.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Um, I- I’m sorry you had to-“

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

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

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

“Nancy wasn’t your fault-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guys-“ You were cut off by Mike.

“We circle back to the exit.”

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

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

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

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

“But-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What…What was that?” Dustin inquired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s Steve?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watch the kids,” his quiet command.

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

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

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

And he punched Billy square in the jaw.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You bitch!” He cried.

“Takes one to know one,” you taunted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Max…”

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

“Screw you,” was Billy’s response.

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

“I understand,” Billy spoke quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“Where’d you get those?”

“Billy.”

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

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

…

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

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

“I’m trying here, okay!”

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

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

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

“Nancy?”

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

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

“Hurt,” was his only response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stevie…”

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

“Oh my god.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Make a left!” He repeated.

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

“Guys,” Steve called to them.

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” a pull of your hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That doesn’t make you-”

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

…

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

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

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

“You sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mike turned to him, “what?”

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

“Well, what about (Y/n)?”

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

…

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

“(Y/n)?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dustin!”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

“Drench it.”

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

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

“You ready?”

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

“Light her up,” Dustin confirmed to Steve.

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

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

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

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

“Steve! Help!” You cried for the boy.

“Hold on!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

An earthquake threw everyone off their feet.

“What was that?”

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

The loud thundering of growling and feet of a stamped.

“Run! Run!” Mike cried.

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

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

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

“(Y/n)! Come on, go!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

“We were in a rush!”

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

“Is it…Can I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Our knight is Levi jeans,” you muttered.

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

“(Y/n)...” the air shifted.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Steve Steve Steve Ste-’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, ouch.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve…”

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

“Steve, please, just stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

You hated funerals.

…

You couldn’t wait for Thanksgiving break.

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

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

“Steve told you what?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate people in love,” you grumbled.

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

…

“What are you doing here?”

“Here to talk with Nancy, dingbat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, a week and a half ago.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence, “when’s Barb’s?”

“First Saturday of December.”

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

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

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

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

“Ah? Why ah?”

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

Your eyes widen, “he did?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

“You excited?” You questioned the young girl.

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“William Byers, may I have this dance?”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/n)-”

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

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

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

“What?” “Tell me why you’re here.”

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

“I like you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby,” the word made your stomach flip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steven.”

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

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

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

“Mom! (Y/n)’s making out with Steve!”

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

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

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

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