Izzy

Wanda was lucky to be an enhanced individual. She knows that now.  

It was hard to be ignorant of all the advantages when she suffered truly little downsides of pregnancy. A low chant here, a flick of the hand there, and any pain she had was gone.  

Regardless, she felt the luckiest when it came to using her magic for you and Natasha. 

The way she’d conjure exquisite toys to use on either of you, the times she’d synch her peaks with you, all the nights she’d fill you both with enough energy for another round, every time she could feel how close to that edge you were and stop it with a single thought, she loved it all.  

If she had to guess, Natasha’s favorite night in bed was the very evening she gave her something real. A night she could spill into Wanda. The night that resulted in her, sitting like this, pregnant. 

But you, their good girl, always went starry-eyed at the sight of her full breasts. It was adorable the way your mouth would water for her, the softness that would set in on your features, a mind that broke at the thought of milking her dry, a mind that prepared itself to kneel and beg and enter a perfect state of compliance.  

She missed it.  

As of late, the three of you were rushing to get things done around the home. The nesting and anxiety took over at the sight of Wanda growing rounder. Along with the task of planning a gender reveal party, none of you could think about sex when long days of building furniture and toys, shopping for clothing, picking the right shade for the nursery, and finding the decorations for your theme had you all winded. The end of one project always spurred thoughts on the next.  

But now she wanted it. It took little convincing from Natasha to spell her breasts full of magic-induced milk. It was all for you. And the show was all for them.  

You hadn’t noticed the difference at first. Your brain endlessly filled with ideas of where to install Tony’s specially made baby monitor. You were sure the crib would change places about four more times before Wanda’s water broke, and maybe three after, so there had to be a spot in the room that could capture most, if not all, angles. The other would latch right onto the edges of the crib, but as a family with enemies, every corner had to be covered.  

Wanda and Natasha took note of the distracted look in your eyes as Modern Family played on. Your favorite episode was streaming, and yet you laughed at none of the jokes and lip-synched none of the lines. For Wanda, you were too far away from her. She needed you—badly.  

The added weight on her chest had her soaked. But every time she looked your way, she could tell your mind was on everything but the way her tits spilled out her tank top. She didn’t need her powers to understand that.  

Natasha herself was getting impatient. Her fingers twitched at the thought of stretching you out and pounding inside of Wanda. Her desire for both of you was a bottomless pit. And most of all, she wanted to watch you in her wife’s arms, getting high off Wanda’s magic infused milk, your tummy getting oh so full of her.  

The worst part was how clueless you were. They couldn’t even count the number of times they’d let their hands linger on your body for longer than necessary. You didn’t mind how lewd the kisses had become before dinner or their short and thin loungewear. There was so much that’d went over your head tonight.  

Wanda just had to remind herself that the reward of turning off your brain would taste so much sweeter after all the failed initiations of foreplay.  

Her tone was deceptively innocent as she started. “Baby, why don’t you come over here for us? Mommy wants you to hold her, could you do that for me?”  

Your head snapped over to Wanda instantly. A shy smile rushed onto your face at her words. You nodded silently and got up from the armchair, making your way closer to the two women across from you.  

Wanda sat up from her relaxed position, allowing you the space to settle down behind her. The two of you now lay cuddled up on the L-shaped sectional, your legs on the outside of hers, your hands situating themselves, naturally, over her pregnant belly. Natasha sat beside you two, her hand immediately landing on your thigh, a gentle thumb rubbing over the skin there.  

The three of you continued your watch quietly. Your palms started to circle Wanda’s stomach softly, and you lay a sweet kiss to the back of her head. Your mind quiets and you start engaging with the show, your lips moving alongside the characters and your laughs falling after one-liners you’d heard a thousand times before.  

The skin beneath Natasha’s hand heated up considerably with her working over the area. Her motions got slightly wider, and your mind got increasingly quieter. This was working for them. Your wives exchange a private look before Wanda makes the first move.   

The witch in front of you snatches up the hands on her lower belly and drags them further upward. Closer to where she wanted you. Though she hoped you’d get there on your own, she knew her little girl was a bit too dumb to understand she needed you now. Still, she’d give you time.  

Or at least until the next episode begins.  

You pecked at her shoulder and grabbed Natasha’s hand, holding it loosely, and unknowingly stopping her right before she started creeping closer to your core.  

So maybe she’d have to force a commercial break. Nothing she hasn’t done before.  

You groaned as an advertisement started to blare from the TV, the increased sound worked your nerves instantly as it fell on the best part of the episode.  

“‘Tasha, I thought we subscribed to the ‘No Ads’ version of this.” You whined out.  

“I’ll check on it tonight, detka.” She replied, already knowing the exact source of the issue sat comfortably in your arms.  

Wanda huffed in front of you. Her irritation spiked within half a second. Worried, you begin to ask a series of questions, all of them she shook her head to. She didn’t need a snack, she wasn’t cold, nor did she want a glass of water, you couldn’t figure out what she needed.  

“Feeling sore?” You guessed. 

Finally, she saw a way for this to work. “I think so, could you keep rubbing me sweetheart? Only, here.” She plopped your hands atop her chest, stealing one from Natasha’s grip, and sighed in relief.  

As soon as your hands started moving, the show resumed. You continued your ministrations mindlessly, and Natasha’s hand returned to your leg, only higher this time.  

Wanda’s head fell back onto your shoulder as you worked her up. Her legs crossed between yours inconspicuously, and she sighed, clenching her thighs together as the fire in her stomach grew. Natasha would be lying if she said she wasn’t jealous. How couldn’t she be envious of either of you? One fell into the trap of the other, holding her wife just the way she wanted, and the other laid, completely relaxed, into the delicate hands of their best girl.  

She needed to find a way to speed this up. But Wanda was already on it.  

She reveled in the way you pawed her. Your touch had the perfect pressure, it landed in all the right places, massaged her so carefully. And you did it all without knowing just how much she craved you. It turned her on knowing how oblivious you were.  

Her head grew lighter as your hands struggled to hold all of her. You didn’t even know how full she was for you. Her nipples perked up beneath the fabric. The sensation of the tank top, and the lack of a bra, brought her pleasure to new heights.  

You felt her top grow slightly damp as your fingers splayed across her chest and slid across the peaks of her breasts. “Wanda?”  

You squeezed the fabric beneath your fingers and subsequently, the most sensitive area of her bust. In that moment, Wanda wasn’t sure whether or not you were playing dumb.   

Her voice came out strained, carrying a trace of annoyance. “Did I tell you to stop?”  

“No...” You were cautious.  

Wanda’s head turned towards you, and you met her eyes. Your lips were dangerously close to hers from the position she’d taken on your shoulder.  

Natasha was the one to remind you first. “No, what?” Now you’d caught up to them.  

“No, mommy. You didn’t tell me to stop.”  

“There’s my good girl.” She kisses your jaw and your hands get back to moving. One slides under your witch’s tank, ready to play with her properly.  

“Our good girl.” Natasha whispers as she takes the other and drags it between her legs.  

The woman was turned towards the both of you now, on display, and aching for something to fill her. She pulled her shorts to the side, her cunt weeping, skin there flushed and waiting for you to so much as graze her. Her own fingers spread her folds apart, baring herself to you entirely. She holds herself open and watches with parted lips as you let your forefinger draw around the lips swollen from arousal.  

You never got tired of this. Your fingers pull harshly at the nipple between them. Wanda’s breath hitches near your ear. Both you and her stare, fully entranced, by Natasha. The pad of your finger brushes over her clit, and you’re sure you hear her swallow back a whimper.  

“Go ahead sweetheart, give daddy what she wants.” Wanda orders you.  

While your eyes had turned away from her, one of Wanda’s hands occupied the space beside yours. It tugged at her peaks, a small bit of the area damp from the milk that’d leaked out. Her breath became labored as she watched you enter Natasha.  

A groan fell from both their lips, one at the sight, the other at the feeling.  

“That’s it detka.” She bit her lip as she looked down, chest heaving as you thrust inside her at a steady pace.  

The obscene sounds coming from your fingers being drawn in had you hooked. You pushed deeper and tried to find a balance between the women in front of you. One hand tweaked a hardened nipple, you grazed over the very tips of them, letting the lightness of the motion push Wanda closer to orgasm. The other hand stretched Natasha out, fingers scissoring, curling, twisting.  

You drove them insane.  

Natasha’s hand, previously keeping her steady on the couch, jumps just above your own.  

“Fuck! Yes, malysh. Faster.” Natasha groaned from her spot next to you.  

Your fingers began to piston out of her, her own rubbing tight circles around her clit as the heat built up. You could feel her clench around you, and you grew wetter at the feeling her dragging you in, not wanting to let go.  

Despite the awkward angle, you sped up even more, eager to see her spill onto your hand. You wanted to hear her praise, to hear her telling you how you “got daddy off so well”. You needed it.  

Your palmed Wanda’s breast at the mere thought, your rougher actions making her throb. Her mouth opened wider, a breathless moan escaping as you played with her. Her other hand drew lightly across a pebbled nipple; she couldn’t wait to have your mouth wrapped around them. She twisted it between her fingers and gasped as she began to leak more. Your mouth watered once you felt the warmth of it on your skin.  

Wanda watched you salivate. Her eyes glowed with satisfaction as they flitted over your features. You were ready for her. It was that realization alone that pushed her over the edge. She came with a cry and her magic sparked about the room.  

Natasha followed soon after. With her own fingers pinching at her swollen clit, and your fingers plunging in and out of her, she’d completely fell apart. You slowed your pace, allowing her the space to come down slowly.  

Her shirt had risen above her navel. You stared as she breathed heavily, the sweat glistening, drops of it soaking into the band of her shorts.  

You had yet to take your hand away from her when Wanda spoke. “Let mommy have a taste, draga.”  

Gently, you pull your hand away from Natasha. She blows a quiet breath out as she gets used to the feeling of being empty again. You hold your fingers to Wanda's lips, and she takes them eagerly. Her tongue swirls over your fingers, separates them inside her mouth, sucks them thoroughly before letting them go with a pop.  

She gestures for Natasha, and she moves with swiftness, getting up and hovering over you to kiss Wanda. One hand on the arm rest to your side, keeping her upright, the other at the base of Wanda’s neck. Wanda presses her tongue into Nat’s mouth, and you find yourself uncomfortably aware of the fact that you haven’t come yet. You whine, feeling left out, wanting to taste her just as much.  

“Daddy, me too.” You tug at the bottom of her shirt.  

Natasha separates from her wife, a string of spit connecting the two of them together. Your eyes follow it until it breaks.  

“Want you and mommy.” Then you remember. “Please?”  

“Oh malyshka, you don’t know how long we’ve been waiting to hear you say those words.”  

Natasha sits back down, facing you once more, and leans in. You attempt to meet her halfway, limited by Wanda resting against your chest, and her face lingers centimeters from yours. You hated it when she teased you like this. She inches forward, brushing her lips against yours.  

“I—” 

Finally, she gives in, cutting you off, unable to deny you and your pleading eyes any longer. You sigh into her mouth and relax back into the couch, her hand wraps around your throat possessively. She gives a light squeeze there and you gasp. The kiss was short. You could barely grasp the flavor of her, but you hold onto the hints of a salty, slightly sweet, and heady taste of her essence. She nibbles on your bottom lip before backing off and speaking.  

“Mommy has something special for you tonight. Have you noticed yet?” The smile that stretched across her face was tantalizing.  

You nod, excited again by what else this night entailed.  

There was a shift in the atmosphere, the two of them now ready to take care of you the way they’ve been craving. The three of you shuffle, get yourself together, and head to the primary suite.  

You stand at the edge of the bed as they throw half the pillows to the ground and shed their clothes. You do the same, dropping them near the nightstand.  

“Come here, draga.”  

Wanda’s resting on her side, furthest away from you. She pats to the spot in the middle, gesturing for you to settle down. Natasha sits at the end of the bed, waiting for you to comply. You do so with ease.  

You lay on your back right beside Wanda. She narrows the space between you both 

“Natty’s gonna clean you right up, sweetheart. Then I’ll give you what we’ve all been waiting for, how does that sound?”   

You nod enthusiastically. “Good, mommy.”  

“Spread your legs for ‘Tasha. Yes, there we go.” She smooths your hair back and tucks it behind your ears.  

Natasha moves closer. She marks her way down your neck, scatters kisses across your clavicle, and down your abdomen, all before pausing where you needed her most. She doesn’t waste time teasing.  

You suck in a large breath as she dives in. Natasha thumbs at your clit and sucks puffy lips into her mouth. You tremble as she spreads you out further, tongue flicking rapidly over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips raise up off the bed. You’re not sure if they’re chasing her or pulling away.  

Wanda hushes you. “It’s okay draga, let daddy make you feel good.” 

Natasha wasn’t polite, she wasn’t neat either. She devoured you—sloppy. A combination of her saliva and your arousal covered her lips and chin. She continued, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked you in. Her tongue fucked into you at a brutal pace.  

You gasp out and nearly shoot up, but Wanda holds you down. She whispers words of praise, tells you to take it, that you should be grateful Natasha wasn’t making you beg for it.  

“Let go when you need to baby, we’re right here.” You were gushing for her before you even hit that peak, the comforter under you growing damp.  

Natasha slips two fingers into your wet heat, knowing how close you were to coming apart, wanting you to fall over that edge for her. Your moans increase as her rhythm gives you no time to take proper breaths. Still, you hold it in, your muscles tense up and your back arches as you feel the tension reach its breaking point. A hum over your swollen clit does you in, and you come undone. Your cunt clenches around her, fingers stilling as she helps you ride it out. But her jaw never stops working, lapping you up gently, avoiding overstimulation as you calm down. 

She cleans you up tenderly, placing a small kiss to your clit and thigh before she can bear to pull herself away. Truthfully, she wasn‘t done with you but decides on mercy for now, knowing the night wasn’t close to over. This was just a break in the program. She watches the way your lids start to fall shut, and a smug smile grows on her face. They were used to the exhaustion that came after they worked you up. They also knew it wouldn’t last more than an hour.  

They began to move quietly, pulling back covers to tuck you in under. They get you on your side and scoot you closer to Wanda’s chest, allowing you to latch onto her comfortably. It didn’t take long before you felt sweetness coat your tongue. You gulp it down greedily.  

Wanda always made it a special experience for you, using different enchantments to get you high, build your arousal, send you to sleep, or heighten your pleasure. Tonight’s milk was especially calming.  

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders as you suckled. Chasing a feeling of euphoria, you draw more of her into your mouth, letting the milk pool into it before gulping it down.  

You try to be careful, knowing how sensitive she’d be after earlier’s stimulation, but end up tugging on a nipple with your lips, pulling back with a smack. You squeeze around her and watch it leak, lapping it up before latching on again. You repeat the action, letting her watch as it dribbles into your mouth, tongue out and eyes soft. 

Natasha wraps an arm around your waist. “Slow down, detka. She’s not going anywhere.”  

Your face immediately lit up, leaning just a bit closer. “Stevie.”

You reached for his hand, but Steve instinctively pulled it back an inch, more confused than frightened. “…Do I know you?”

The room went silent, Robin who had been leaning against the wall with crossed arms let out a squeak. “Uh-oh.”

You stared at him for a second, before a laugh bubbled out of you. “Are you joking around with me?”

He frowned apologetically, everything in his mind just felt so fuzzy. “I’m sorry, I feel like I should know you.”

You shook your head, still smiling despite the slight concern sitting in your chest. “Obviously you know me, Stevie.”

He studied your face like he was trying to solve the worlds hardest puzzle. Your eyes that held something almost similar to affection, your contagious smile, the way you looked at him like you’ve known him forever.

Even after racking through his memories, the ones that still remained at least, nothing came up. Then his eyebrows slowly lifted. “Are you an angel?” He blurted.

You blinked, mouth agape. “What?”

“I mean,” his cheeks flushed, for a second he had thought he was dead, that was the only explanation as to why a beautiful girl like you was standing above him. “You’re really pretty.”

Robin groaned, this was a romantic movie she had not signed up for. “Oh god.”

Steve ignored her completely. “I think I’d remember someone as special as you.”

Your smile only grew, ducking your head shyly. “You think so?” You whispered.

“I know so.” He nodded seriously. “There’s absolutely no chance I’d forget a girl like you.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing, Robin snorted so hard she nearly doubled over. Steve looked between you two confused. “What?” He still didn’t understand what was so funny.

You tilted your head at him mischievously. “So, what do you think we’re doing here?” You randomly asked.

He glanced around the hospital bed before turning back to you. “Are we on a date?” He guessed.

You couldn’t hold it back anymore, losing your cool as laughter flowed out of you. “It’s a…pretty weird place for a date though,” he mentioned.

You wiped a tear from your eye. “They’re not exactly romantic.” You added.

Steve smiled sheepishly. “But did it work?”

“Did what work?” Your brows pulled together.

“The flirting.” He finished like it was obvious. Even while concussed, he still fell back into his player ways.

He really was putting on a show for you. “Yeah, Stevie. You’ve still got it.” You reassured.

He quietly celebrated with a tiny fist pump against the blanket. “Nice,” he praised himself. You finally reached over and gently took his hand, this time, he only stared at you with wide brown eyes.

His fingers immediately curled around yours before he looked down at them. “So,” you started, knowing the reveal would send him into an absolute frenzy. “I’m your girlfriend.”

His mouth actually fell open, features frozen with shock. “No way.”

“Mhm,” you hummed back, not bothering to hide the amusement from your face.

“You mean to tell me,” Steve backtracked. “That I’m—” he pointed at himself. “Dating you?”

“Last I checked, you’re my boyfriend.” You shrugged.

Steve’s gaze studied your face, looking for any hints that you were fooling him, then landed on your joined hands again, then back to your face. “I’m your boyfriend.” He repeated. “I asked you out?”

“And you were very nervous in doing so.” You stated. “But I accepted anyway.”

Steve looked at you with an astonished smile. “I must’ve been the luckiest guy alive.” He shook his head.

“You still are.” He smiled so brightly at your words, it made your heart ache.

A minute later, after the nurse finished checking his pupils and stepped out again, Steve quietly scooted over in the small hospital bed, wincing only a little.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Making room for you.” He pointed out, peeling back the blanket.

“It won’t fit the two of us.” You sighed, even though you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up to him.

He patted the mattress, still not convinced. “I might not remember you.” His voice softened. “But I know I feel better when you’re close.”

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his voice, only clear, honest certainty. You carefully climbed onto the edge of the bed beside him without another word, trying not to jostle his shoulder.

The second you settled, he made a happy noise of contentment. “Yup, this feels right.” He nodded.

You rested your head lightly against his shoulder. “It does?” You whispered.

Steve intertwined your hands again, the touch was more comforting this time than surprising. “I don’t remember loving you.” Your heart squeezed.

“But,” he murmured. “I remember what it feels like to love you.”

You looked up to find him smiling at you with the same hopelessly in love expression he’d always worn. Lifting yourself slightly, you press a gentle kiss against his forehead.

Steve gave them a polite smile and nodded at something one of them said, offering a distracted, barely audible response as his eyes drifted to you again. Your gaze briefly met his before turning away. But you could feel his eyes still lingering on you — slow, deliberate, without shame, making your skin prickle. Like he knew he could look as much as he wanted. That all that was only for his eyes. And you loved letting him do it. Being seen by him. Wanted by him. It was intoxicating. 

His grip tightened slightly on the counter as he traced the lines of your body, like he didn’t trust himself to linger too long in one place. You had just come from your fitness lesson, still wrapped in your fitted lycra set, the fabric clinging to every curve, leaving very little to the imagination. You knew exactly what you were doing when you chose not to change. And judging by the way Steve swallowed hard and the shift in his breathing, you knew it was working. 

A small, knowing smile tugged at your lips as you stepped up beside the girls, clearing your throat and leaning forward just enough to peer into the glass display. Your reflection blurred against rows of pastel-colored gelato as you pretended to study the flavors, tilting your head slightly, taking your time. Giving him a perfect view. The stretch of fabric, the curve of your body. 

The girls turned toward you, finally acknowledging your presence, their expressions flickering with mild annoyance as they took you in. You bit back a smile as they murmured something under their breath and walked away.

Steve didn’t even watch them leave, happy that they were finally gone. By the time you straightened, he was already in front of you, hands braced against the counter like he needed the support. “Can I help you, miss?” he asked, voice steady but lower than before, edged with something else. A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. 

You hummed softly, as if uncertain, eyes flicking lazily over the display again. “I don’t know… none of these are really… tempting.” You glanced up at him, feigning disappointment, innocence. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Don’t you have anything else?”

For a second, he just looked at you. Then his gaze darted briefly over your shoulder, scanning the shop, checking for lingering customers or Robin’s unmistakable presence. Finding neither, his attention snapped back to you — sharper now, darker. He cleared his throat. “There might be something in the back,” he said quietly. “Something… not on the menu. Some special flavors.”

The way he said it made heat coil low in your stomach. Your lips curved, just slightly. You were about to answer when voices approached behind you — new customers, loud and impatient. You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost closing time.

You could wait.

“I’ll take chocolate and strawberry for now,” you said, quickly, just loud enough for the others to hear. Then, leaning in slightly, your voice dropping for him alone. “But I might come back for that special flavor later. I’d like to taste it.”

Steve exhaled through his nose, a quick, controlled breath, and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, okay.”

He moved faster than necessary, scooping your order with more force than usual. You watched the flex of his forearm, the tension in his shoulders, the way he avoided looking at you as if he was afraid of what it could do to him. When he handed you the cone, your fingers brushed his, letting them linger a second longer. 

“Thanks,” you said, smiling. Then you turned and walked to one of the small tables, choosing a spot where you both had a perfect view of each other.

He was in the middle of serving a family now, crouched slightly to be at eye level with a kid who couldn’t decide between flavors. He smiled, patient and practiced, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Because they kept drifting back to you. You met his gaze the moment it did. Then, slowly, you lifted the cone, bringing the top closer to your lips. 

At first, it was nothing — just a casual, innocent lick along the edge, neat and controlled. You tilted your head slightly, like you were just savoring the flavor, taking your time, your movements unhurried. You didn’t look away from him, you eyes fixed on his. 

Steve froze for half a second before forcing himself to keep moving, blinking and nodding at whatever the child was saying.

You did it again. Once. Twice. Three times. Each faster than the last. 

Steve’s grip tightened around the scoop in his hand.

When his eyes flicked back to you again, you changed your approach. You parted your lips slightly, brushing the top of the cone before taking it into your mouth. You held it there for a beat too long before pulling away slowly. Steve’s mouth opened a fraction, caught between disbelief and something far more dangerous as you kept going.

He swallowed hard, the memory of the night before hitting him all at once — you could see it in his face. The way you had looked at him then, fully aware of what you were doing to him. The way you had taken your time sucking him off, teasing him. 

The kid in front of Steve said something, and Steve blinked quickly, once, twice, dragging himself back into the moment. “Yeah—yeah, sorry, what was that?” he asked, voice tight. You grabbed the cone with both hands, adjusting your grip. One held the cone steady, while the other slid along it, slow and deliberate. Your fingers tightened slightly as you imagined it was your boyfriend’s big cock instead. Too bad the cone wasn't even half the size you were used to. 

The metal scoop slipped from Steve’s fingers, hitting the floor with a sharp clang. Steve muttered a quick apology and bent down to pick it up, disappearing from view for a moment too long. You imagined him adjusting his pants, trying to release the tension that had built up, seeking some relief. When he stood again, your expression had reset — calm, composed, as if you had been doing nothing more than enjoying your dessert. Your eyes met his and you could see how visibly in difficult he was. His breathing was uneven, chest rising a little too fast, his lips parted like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. There was a flush creeping up his neck, disappearing under the sailor collar of his uniform. His hands gripped the edge of the counter so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. You gave him a small, innocent smile. Pride flickered through you, warm and electric, settling low in your stomach. You had him exactly where you wanted him—tense, distracted, completely consumed. Without even touching him. And judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t going to last much longer. Steve swallowed hard, his gaze dragging over you again before he forced himself to look away. He glanced at the clock behind him, impatient, restless. Counting down the minutes until he could close the shop. 

You took your time finishing your cone.

Twenty minutes later, the lights in the front had been dimmed, the door locked and the last of the noise gone. The only sound left was the faint hum of the freezers and Steve’s irregular breathing. 

“Do you have any idea what you just did to me out there?” he muttered, voice low, strained, like he’d been holding it in for too long.

You were in the back room, on your knees, standing in front of Steve. His hair was already a mess, like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His shorts and boxers had been pushed down just enough to set his hard cock free, his body tense. You licked your lips at the sight of him, still tasting the faint sweetness of chocolate. 

You didn’t answer. You wrapped your hand around his cock instead, your fingers tightening slightly around him, stroking a few times, at first slowly, then faster. You could feel how worked up he was already, how little control he had left, and it sent a sharp, satisfied thrill through you.

Steve went still. “Jesus,” he breathed, barely audible. He exhaled sharply, his head tipping back for a second, his hands coming up to your shoulders before he forced himself to look at you again.

Your lips brushed against him — light at first, almost teasing, closing the distance between you. You licked the sensitive tip, tasting the pre-cum already licking out. The effect was immediate. Steve’s grip tightened, one hand sliding up into your hair without thinking, not forcing, just lingering there, like he needed something to hold onto.

"Please. Stop teasing, sweetheart." When you finally took him into your mouth, ready to taste that special flavor he had promised you earlier, he lost his composure completely. His head fell back again, eyes squeezing shut before opening, like he didn’t want to miss a second of it.

“God —” he exhaled, the word slipping out before he could stop it.

You moved slowly, taking your time, trying to take him in your mouth as much as possible, your hand stroking him up and down where you couldn’t reach him. When you found a rhythm, you started moving faster. His fingers tightened in your hair, while his other hand braced against the table behind him, like he needed the support. His breathing turned uneven, broken.

“Babe —” he started, voice strained. “Please. I'm — I'm not gonna last.”

You kept moving, dragging the moment out until he was completely undone — until every breath, every small sound, every shift of his body told you just how far gone he was.

“Shit — Babe, I’m gonna c—“

His words cut off into a sharp exhale, his head dropping forward as his grip tightened instinctively, coming entirely into your mouth. When he finished, you pulled away from him, letting his cock go with a bop before swallowing everything without hesitation.

For a moment, the room went quiet, just the sound of his breathing lingering in. Slowly, he exhaled, his hand sliding down from your hair to your shoulder, grounding himself again. You wiped your mouth lightly, licking your fingers. Then, you adjusted his shorts and boxers back into place. “Yeah,” he muttered, almost to himself, a breathless laugh following. “That was… yeah. Definitely special.”

You smiled faintly, rising back up, close enough to him again to feel the warmth still radiating off his skin. His hands found your hips instantly. “Yeah,” you said softly, a smirk playing on your lips. “Worth the wait.”

Steve huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he looked at you — still a little stunned, still completely wrecked. And very clearly not done with you yet.

“Next time, though…” he said again, pulling you closer. “I’m not waiting that long.”

Your hands slid up his chest, slow, deliberate, fingertips brushing over the fabric of his uniform before curling lightly at his collar.

Then he kissed you, tasting himself on you. 

-

“You’re not going to find me. Like I said I’m in your head. I’ve been here a lot longer than you realize.” 

Your brain is a clusterfuck of emotions right now– scared, angry, upset, overwhelmed. You don’t know what the hell is going on or why you keep getting these visions that seem to come to life. And now this guy wants to play even more mind tricks with you. 

“Just leave me alone please.” You plead out into the open air. 

“You know I can’t do that. We still have things we need to accomplish.” 

Things to accomplish– yeah like killing more of your classmates. 

The road that you find yourself standing in the middle of, the one that Fred is standing on twitching like crazy, there hasn’t been a single car that you’ve seen come down it or even a hint of headlights in the distance. You’ve been out here for some time now and there should have been at least one car that has passed– it’s Saturday night.

It’s then that you realize that this isn’t reality and that you’re re-living what had actually happened. Just like last night the man had made you re-live Chrissy’s death, made it seem like you were there for it, but you were just plopped into a memory. 

“He’s already dead isn’t he.” You mutter, the dread setting in. Not that you think you could have saved him, but it’s the fact that you didn’t get the chance to try. 

“Yes.” 

“Then why are you making me re-live it? You’ve already been fucking with me for months, using me for something you won’t tell me about. You are clearly getting what you want! Why are you torturing me even more?” You yell out, angry tears starting to form in your eyes. 

“Your suffering has not been done in vain. You’ve been ever so helpful, aiding me in picking out the ones that need help the most. We’re taking away their pain Y/N.”

“Why me? I never asked for this!” 

“Oh but you did all those months ago when you asked for the pain to stop. For your suffering to end. Those times where you’d thought it’d be better if you’d taken your own life than have to live another moment in pain.” 

Your heart skips a beat at his words that bounce around in your head like a pingpong ball. He was clearly trying to break you even more than you already were, trying to make it seem like he was helping you when all he’d ever done was hurt you. “I– you put those thoughts in my head!” 

“I’ve only enhanced what was already there darling.” 

“That’s not true.” You argue back– your voice cracking because you truly don’t know what the truth is. It made sense to blame all your dark thoughts on him, nothing had seemed to be the same since you’d first dreamt of him, but what if what he was saying was true? What if he was just exploiting what was already rotten inside you? 

“I think once you see that what we are trying to do together is for the better then you’ll stop being so defiant. All you have to do is exist and I’ll do the rest.” 

You didn’t want to be his puppet and you think that maybe the only way to end this is to do the one thing he’d targeted you for. “And if I decide to just go ahead and listen to my darkest thoughts and kill myself? What then? You won’t have your precious helper.” 

“You can try, but I won’t let it happen. You should have already figured out that I’m always with you. How was I supposed to pick out our candidates without your eyes and ears for me to use?” 

The feeling of being trapped starts to settle in, like you’re a dog in a cage, except your cage is your head and your cruel owner is a mysterious man who only visits you in that cage. “Just get out of my fucking head!” You scream as you crumble down onto the pavement beneath you. Hot wet tears flow down your cheeks as you run your fingers through your hair, yanking at the roots, hoping the pain would snap you back into reality and out of this mental prison. 

It doesn’t. 

“Not until our work is done.” 

You don’t say anything back, you just tuck your knees into your chest and hide your face in your arms as the tears continue to stream down your face. 

“We are halfway there darling. This will all be over soon and when we help the last person, when my plan has succeeded, then I can end your suffering too if you want.”

“Just do it now.” You reply without missing a beat. 

“Now Y/N, you know I can’t do that. Stop being such a brat and be grateful that I’ve chosen you to help me.” 

“I don’t want to help you murder my classmates!” Your voice cuts through the open air like a whip and the man must have finally had enough because a much deeper voice infiltrates your brain, one you’ve never heard before, and you wonder if it’s even the same man. 

“Enough! You’re going to help me and you’re going to see what we’ve accomplished so far whether you like it or not!” 

You tuck your face back into your arms, refusing to watch the scene unfold in front of you, but the man has different plans. It happens before you even realize it– your head automatically snapping up to stare straight ahead at Fred. You couldn’t even close your eyes if you tried, he had complete control over you and it scared the absolute shit out of you. 

“It didn’t have to come to this, but if you’re going to be so defiant then I’m going to have to show my hand. Just know I can do whatever I want to you and while I need you just know I can make your life much worse than it already is. So you’re going to sit here and watch what we’ve done and then I will see you again very soon.” 

It’s like your face is paralyzed as you’re forced to watch Fred’s body slowly float into the air and you know what’s about to happen and you try your hardest to close your eyes, move your head away, but you can’t and so you sit there and watch as his limbs snap and twist like a human pretzel. How his jaw dislocates so far it’s practically protruding out of the side of his face and then finally his eyes get sucked out of their sockets and the blood pools out and down his face. 

Fred’s body falls to the ground with a sickening splat and in a flash your vision goes black again. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open as you slowly regain your vision. You can hear muffled but panicked voices surrounding you and the feeling of someone’s arms holding you. Another slow blink clears your vision some more and you come to realize that you’re staring up at the ceiling of the boat house, the exposed wooden beams and sheet metal letting you know that you’re back to reality. 

But wait… you were standing with Steve before you’d had another one of your dreams or visions or whatever the hell they were and now you were clearly not standing, but laying on the dusty wooden floor. 

“Y/N, baby. Can you hear me?” Steve’s voice fills your ears and you quickly realize he’s the one that’s holding you. You turn your head slightly to see Steve’s doe eyes staring down at you, worry written all over his face. 

“Why am I on the floor?” You ask as you try to sit up, but Steve’s got such an iron grip on you it’s damn near impossible. 

“Whoa slow down. You passed out, scared the shit out of me feeling your body just slump over onto mine. Thank god I already had a hold of you earlier.” Steve states, his hands finally loosening their grip and aiding you in sitting up. 

You glance around at the small circle that’s formed around you and take in everyone’s worried expressions– including Eddie. Who was hovering nearly as close as Steve. 

“You okay?” Julie asks as she steps away from Dustin’s side to yours, hands reaching out for you to hold on to. 

“Yeah…” You say slowly, like you weren’t entirely sure if you were or not. “With all the chaos I haven’t really had anything to eat today.” Your hands squeeze Julie’s in a reassuring way as you force a smile. “I’m sure that’s just what it was. I’m fine guys.” 

Steve helps you up off the floor and wraps his arm around your waist like at any minute your body might go limp again and frankly it might. You’d watched another one of your classmates get brutally murdered and no one knew about it. Hell the police probably didn’t even know about it yet.

But what’s freaking you out the most is the fact that this guy doesn’t just visit you in your dreams anymore– he clearly has access to you whenever he wants. He’d made that abundantly clear and you worry that you might not be able to keep this a secret for much longer. 

There’s still that familiar heavy feeling in your chest as you get your bearings, come to terms with the fact that this is apparently something you’re going to have to deal with again soon, and you try not to spiral as your brain starts to replay Fred’s limbs snapping like twigs. But there’s no panic attack or tears like last night and maybe that’s because he hadn’t visited you in your sleep and not because you were already becoming desensitized to it all– right? 

Everyone starts to talk again once they deem you fine and at first you don’t listen, not on purpose necessarily, but there were certainly more pressing matters you were trying to work through. Ones that you knew you shouldn’t be going through on your own, but you didn’t quite understand the implications of what being attached to this man meant and if getting the ones you loved involved meant harm could come their way then this secret was staying with you.

That is until you remember there is one person who’s already experienced the horrors you have and they’re standing right in front of you. There’s just one issue– trying to figure out how you could get Eddie alone to talk to him. 

Your opportunity comes sooner than you ever would have thought, but it’s a little unconventional and certainly going to make Steve mad. 

“I think it might not be a bad idea if someone stays here with Eddie overnight– ya know to keep an eye on him.” Robin suggests. 

Everyone looks over to Dustin, expecting him to be the one to volunteer, but you’re the only one looking at Eddie. Before Dustin can even open his mouth you’re speaking words that surely have everyone thinking you’d hit your head when you passed out. 

“I’ll stay.” 

“What?!” Steve chokes out, his fingers digging into your side, trying to anchor you to him. Surely he’d heard you wrong, surely you weren’t volunteering to stay here overnight by yourself with Eddie Munson. The guy who a couple hours ago Steve was sure had murdered Chrissy and honestly still isn’t 100% convinced it wasn’t him. 

“I can stay with Eddie. It’s no big deal.” You state like Steve isn’t damn near losing his mind next to you. 

Everyone else seems to be giving you strange looks too– like you were the last person they’d suspect to volunteer for something like this. 

Eddie stands there stunned and he can see the array of emotions Steve seems to be going through right now. Never in a million years did he think Harrington’s girl would be offering up to keep him company while he’s on the run from the law. Eddie has always had a little bit of a soft spot for you, but you’d always been Steve’s girl, even when you weren’t. It had been made abundantly clear as soon as Hawkins High was blessed with King Steve’s presence that you were his in an unspoken way and so Eddie had admired you from a far. Knowing that if he ever did try anything Steve would have his ass just like all the other guys he’d made an example of without you knowing. 

Then that party happened your sophomore year and he knew he shouldn’t have made a move on you, but you sat there with him and just talked and didn’t look at him like he was some freak, and he knew it would never turn into anything, but he’d enjoyed it while he could. But even after you two went your separate ways you’d still smile at him in the halls and give him a pencil in math class and Eddie likes to think that maybe in another world you two would have been good friends. 

Dustin can see the storm raging behind Steve’s eyes and he really doesn’t care to see the two guys who he admires getting into a fight, so he tries to make peace before there becomes an actual issue. 

“It would make more sense if I just stayed with Eddie.” Dustin offers.

But you’re not giving up about staying and that results in Steve dragging you outside to talk to you in private.

“I’m not trying to be controlling here, but why the hell are you so adamant about staying here with him?” Steve asks with a huffed breath, his hands quickly running through his hair like it might help him calm down. 

“Because I feel bad for him and he needs a friend right now.” You reply casually, like this was sitting next to him at lunch and not in a boat house twenty minutes outside of town while he was a wanted fugitive. 

“That’s what Henderson is for!” Steve leans against the metal siding and he can feel the coolness of it seeping through his jacket, but it does nothing to smother the fire within him. “I’m not leaving you here with him Y/N. You just passed out and you have no car to get away if you needed to. What kind of boyfriend would I be leaving you here?” 

The word slips out so easily like he didn’t even think twice about it and it makes you wonder why he couldn’t admit to Dustin earlier that the two of you were together, but now that he feels threatened he’s alright with claiming you. 

“For all we know he made all that shit up in there!” Steve quietly exclaims, hands thrown up into the air as he talks. 

“He didn't Steve.” You finally reply. 

“How do you know?” He questions in a sippy tone. 

Things would just be so much easier if you told Steve about everything, but you’ve never been one to make things easier for yourself, and so you egg on the conversation that is bubbling on the edge of a fight. “I just know.” 

Steve just wants to take you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you. What the hell was wrong with you? What kind of connection did you have with Eddie to just blindly trust him like this? Steve had never known you to associate with him, but maybe Steve didn’t know you like he thought he did, and it wedges a very ugly feeling of doubt square in his chest. “Well if you’re staying then I’m staying.” 

This is where this conversation is going to blow up and maybe you’ll come to regret it and maybe you’re ruining things between Steve and you, but if this is what breaks the two of you, well then you weren’t that strong to begin with. 

“You can’t.” 

Steve laughs, like audibly laughs, and it throws you for a loop. 

“I’m not accusing you of anything but you do realize what this sounds like right? I mean is there something I need to be worried about? Do you have a thing for loser super seniors who play board games with kids?” 

He’s totally accusing you and mean Steve is peaking his ugly head out of his hole for you to see. You honestly get how this looks from Steve’s perspective, but he didn’t have to be such a condescending ass about it.  

“You don’t trust me? Is that it?” You throw back at him, stirring the pot even more. 

Steve groans as he rubs his hands across his face, trying to pull himself back from the edge of saying something he might regret. He trusts you, he does, but who on god’s green earth would be okay with their partner wanting to stay the night with a fugitive by themselves? Hell, he was a little worried about Dustin staying, let alone you. 

“Don’t play that card with me right now. You know I trust you– it’s just hard for me to understand why you’re so adamant about staying here with him. Don’t you want to come back home with me?” 

Steve is sure that everyone is hovering near the door listening to every single word the two of you say, but he couldn’t care less right now. He was damn near about ready to get down on his knees and beg for you to just get in the car with him and the two of you head to Chicago early, leave all this shit behind, but he can tell by the look in your eye that he’s on the verge of losing this fight and that your trip to Chicago isn’t going to happen. 

Your eyes soften at the brown haired boy in front of you. All he wants is you to be with him and you aren’t even really sure if this is all about Eddie or the fact that Steve depends on you more than you realize. The two of you hadn’t spent a night away from each other in probably close to a month and if you stayed here with Eddie then that meant he’d probably go back to his house for the night. Which you knew would only make things worse. But even knowing that you pushed the guilt down and stuck to your guns. You needed to talk to Eddie and you were going to stay here tonight no matter how much Steve begged you not to. 

“You know I’d rather be back at home and next to you in our–my bed.” You quickly correct your slip up and you see a flash of something in Steve’s eyes, but as soon as it’s there it’s gone. Truth be told, as frequently as he was staying over it was his bed as much as it was yours, but to refer to it as ours was something you didn’t know you two were at the level yet to use. You know things seemed to be moving fast between the two of you, but when you actually force yourself to think about it– Steve and you had been ‘together’ a lot longer than you’d ever realize. 

“But I think Eddie can really help us with all of this shit that’s going on and maybe I can get him to open up a little more. Tell me more about what happened last night without an audience.” You continue, hoping Steve can see a possible good outcome from this, but you can still see the doubt in his eyes. The jealousy, the worry, all the bad thoughts that he’s conjured up in his mind about you staying here without him.

He’s got his arms crossed against his chest, closing himself off to you, wanting to be more mad about this than he should be. But the second your hands come up and gently cradle his face– he’s putty in your hands. “I love you Steve Harrington. Not Eddie. You. So if you love me as much as I think you do, I need you to trust me and let me do this. Let me try and talk to him, get him to see if he knows anything else, and if it ends up being a waste of time then I’ll radio for you to come and get me. I need to do this because if this has to do with the Upside Down again then we need all the information we can get.” 

Steve reaches for your hands and gently takes them in his, tugging you a little closer to him. Whatever tension had risen between the two of you had started to fade the second you held his face and told him you loved him. Steve never meant for him to get so worked up, for him to bring out the person he once was, but he can’t help it when it comes to you. He wants you all to himself, hell he’d found himself getting jealous of the kids if they wanted to spend time with just you last summer.

Steve won’t ever be normal about you and that means he sure as hell isn’t alright with this idea you’ve come up with, but Steve also loves you and even though it doesn’t seem like it– he does trust you. He knows you like the back of his hand and he knows how fiercely protective you are over the ones you love and if something from the Upside Down was back again you’d do anything to try and stop it. You’d already lost your best friend to it, almost lost Julie, and he fears that if something like that happened again you wouldn’t be able to come back from it. 

Steve knows there is no talking you out of this. 

But he can also tell that there’s something else underlying all of this, something he can’t quite put his finger on. It nags at him and he doesn’t want to go back to square one with this conversation because he’s sure you’ll think he’s insinuating that you’re cheating on him, but it’s not that. It’s something he’s noticed for some time now, but tonight it’s like he can see it glowing around you. 

The floodlight above the door gives off a slight buzzing sound and it’s all that fills the silence that falls between the two of you. You try to search Steve’s eyes for any inclination towards what he might be thinking, if this conversation is going to continue to go in circles or if he’s going to finally give in and put his jealousy and worry aside and let you do this. 

Steve takes a deep breath and finally asks the question. “Is there something you aren’t telling me about?” 

It’s a loaded question and he could be referring to just about anything, like if you have feelings for Eddie, but he’s not. You know exactly what he’d meant when he asked that and it puts a nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach. There’s a lot you haven’t told him about and you want to tell him, but here you were about to tell Eddie Munson before him. 

“I’ll tell you everything later okay? I promise.” 

It’s a lie and you know Steve noticed how your breath caught in your throat when you spoke, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls you into a bruising kiss, like it might be the last time he kissed you, and the thought puts a horrible feeling in your gut. He was acting like you were being sent off to war, but he didn’t know you were already at war with your mind. 

He pulls away just enough to take a breath, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes searching for any sign that you might back out of doing this.

His search is futile. 

“This is absolutely killing me and I can’t believe I’m letting you do this. But I trust you and if you think you can get him to open up then I’m willing to let you try. But I want a radio check in every half hour and like you said if he clearly isn’t going to talk then you radio me and I will be here before you know it to come and get you.” 

He presses his lips to yours again and then brings your right hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to the silver band on your finger. The simple action makes your stomach flip and you find yourself reaching for his ring clad hand and repeating his actions. No other words are spoken, your promises to always come back to each other were made a long time ago, and the rings had become something stronger than spoken words. 

Moments later a walkie is pressed into your hand from Dustin and everyone else tells you goodbye before clambering off towards Steve’s car. Julie lingers behind with Steve, but she doesn’t take as much convincing, a hug and kiss on the top of the head with a promise of seeing her in the morning sets her on her way, but Steve still hovers. 

“Every half hour. I promise.” You try to reassure him and he smiles half heartedly at you, like he knows how overbearing he’s being. 

“Maybe I should make it every fifteen minutes.” He mutters as he pulls you back into him, his lips ghosting over yours. “Please be careful, if he even blinks at you weirdly, radio me alright?” 

“I promise.” You kiss him again, not caring about the audience in the car. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Another quick peck is exchanged because you two can’t help yourselves and then you watch as Steve’s beamer backs out of the gravel drive and back onto the main road. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

In the boathouse Eddie sits on an old milk crate waiting for you. He’d heard the sound of Steve’s car leaving probably five minutes ago and yet the door he’d had his eyes trained on ever since hasn’t opened. The idea that you’d gone back on your word and left with everyone else hurts him more than he’d like to admit. He should have known better than to think that anyone would want to actually help him– that someone like you would want to help him. It was one thing to give him a pencil in class, but he was a wanted man, and really he doesn’t blame you for changing your mind, but it still hurts. 

Before he can really start to feel sorry for himself the door creaks open and you walk into the dimly lit shack. He can tell you’re slightly on edge, like you’d been out there wracking your brain until you realized you had to face what you’d signed yourself up for. 

“Thought you’d changed your mind there for a minute.” Eddie says half joking. 

You can’t lie, once everyone left the realization of what you were about to do, what you were about to tell Eddie had finally hit you, and it scared you. That man was clearly in your head and what if you telling Eddie about everything would make things even worse. You’d been debating if you should really do it, but in the end you knew you’d eventually have to tell someone and well the one person who’d experienced the wrath of this man already was probably the only good candidate. 

“Nah, I’m a woman of my word Munson.” You reply, sitting down on a worn plastic cooler next to him with a sigh. 

“Never thought you would be holed up in my supplier’s boathouse with me while I’m on the run from the law. Could have been a great love story if you weren’t already taken.” 

He’s deflecting, trying to make light of the absolute shit situation he’s found himself in, but for the first time since you set foot in this nasty building Eddie had cracked a smile and it’s got you doing the same. “Always the flirt.” 

“Only for you sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes at him and the playfulness of the conversation quickly wears off as silence falls between the two of you. The elephant in the room, the reason he’s here, the reason you’re here, it seems to suck all the air out of the room. 

“You gonna tell me why it was so important for you to talk to me alone that you got into an argument with Harrington about it?” Eddie finally asks. 

“You heard that?” You mutter, looking down at your dirty sneakers. 

He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and looks anywhere but at you. “Kinda hard not to.” 

The tightening feeling in your chest that’s been there since you woke up on the floor earlier only seems to worsen and you know you’ve got to tell him. You hadn’t gotten into the argument with Steve for nothing, but now that you’re faced with the task at hand you’re not sure if you can. 

“I’ve been having these really bad nightmares for the last couple months.” You start, eyes still trained to the floor. 

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion, not sure what your nightmares have to do with all of this, but he doesn’t question it, just sits there and listens. 

“They are horrible, like I’m talking about the people I love being brutally murdered over and over again. Having to relive some of the most traumatic moments of my life.” Your eyes flicker up to your arm that rests on your thighs, the one that still has the jagged scar hidden underneath your jacket sleeve. “It started after I dreamt about some man and he had this arm that transformed into something that wasn’t human and he’d said that he had picked me to help him– that I was his now. I didn’t think much about it then, but then the nightmares started and the headaches and the nosebleeds and I genuinely felt like I was going insane.” You pause and then, “I still feel insane.” 

Eddie’s doe eyes hyper focus on you. Chrissy hadn’t necessarily told him all about what was going on with her, but she’d told him enough, and it sounded a lot like what you were experiencing. And look how she ended up. The idea of you ending up like her has panic spreading through him like a hot fire, but he doesn’t know what to do, hell he can’t do anything if he wanted to. Everyone thought he’d killed Chrissy and knowing his luck you were going to start floating in the air any second. 

A shaky sigh emits from you and it has Eddie reaching out, taking his hand in yours, because honestly that’s all he can offer right now. You finally look up at him and you wish you hadn’t because he’s looking at you with so much concern that it makes you just want to cry. Eddie has always been sweet to you and it kills you that he’s been put in the middle of all of this. It all feels like your fault. 

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat that you’d been trying to ignore only growing bigger by the second. “I’m still not sure how, but I’m connected to all of this somehow. To Chrissy’s death.” 

“What?” Eddie whispers, more to himself than to you. 

“I know you didn’t kill Chrissy because I was there last night. Well now I know I wasn’t really there, but I saw it happen. That man that I’d dreamt about last month, he visited me in my dreams again last night and he told me that I was helping him with his mission or something. That he’d picked me out practically becuase I was so fucked up in the head. Then the next thing I know I’m in your trailer watching Chrissy’s body snap and twist in ways it shouldn’t. I tried to call out to you, but you couldn’t see me, he’d put me in the memory of what he’d done. Wanted me to watch what I’d helped him do.” 

“Y/N…” Eddie’s voice is soft and timid, like he’s afraid any sudden movement or loud noise will make you run. 

“The worst part is that he’s been in my head for so long without me knowing. I unknowingly helped him pick his victims. I’m the reason Chrissy and Fred are dead.” Your chest burns and you couldn’t even take a deep breath if you wanted to. It’s all starting to crash down around you and when Eddie asks about Fred the only response you can give him is a broken sob. 

Eddie can’t seem to wrap his brain around all of this, he was still trying to process what had happened back in his trailer and now you’re telling him you were somehow a part of this, unwillingly of course. He knew Hawkins was a shit hole, but damn it was worse than he’d thought. 

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, like that might fix everything. 

“Fred is dead and I’m the only one who probably knows about it.” You cry out into Eddie’s chest. “When I passed out earlier it was that man in my head again and he killed Fred out on a road somewhere. He’s in my head and I can’t get him out Eddie. I don’t know what to do, I asked him to take me instead, but he just keeps torturing me and using me for his sick plans.” 

Eddie gently cradles your head in his hands, pulling you back from his chest. “Listen, I honestly don’t know what’s going on. This is all so fucked up, but this isn’t your fault. That guy or wizard or whatever the hell he is, he’s taking advantage of you, and to see you this upset goes to show that you’d never do this knowingly. Their deaths are not your fault.” 

He’s trying his best to make you feel better, to try and reassure you, but he wasn’t good with stuff like this normally let alone when there wasn’t some immortal creature trying to kill them all. 

His reassuring words don’t do much to help you though because in it’s own fucked up way it is your fault and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. That man had made it abundantly clear. So, you try to pull yourself together and ask the one thing you’d started this conversation to get to. 

“Last night at your trailer. Do you remember anything else happening? Anything that you didn’t tell us earlier? Anything that might help me figure out what the hell is going on with me?” You ask with a sniffle. 

Your eyes search Eddie’s face for any sign of hope, but when those big brown eyes of his widen with sympathy and he shakes his head no you feel the air escape your lungs once more. 

“I’m sorry Y/N. It all happened so fast and before that I was focused on finding the ket for Chrissy. Everything I remember I told you guys earlier.” 

You brace your elbows on your knees and hold your head in your hands, your tears falling onto the dusty floor as you come to the realization that nothing is going to save you from this horrible fate you’ve been dealt. 

“Fuck!” 

Eddie frowns at you, he really wished he could have thought of something, but he’s surprised he remembers what he does. He offers a comforting hand on your back and silence settles back between the two of you save for your sniffles and occasional sob. 

He thinks back to earlier when he couldn’t help but join everyone else in listening in on your argument with Steve. The question Steve had thrown at you– is there something you aren’t telling me about? It bothers Eddie more than it should and as he looks over at you, how shaken you look, broken. It hits him that what you’re dealing with, you’ve been dealing with it on your own. 

“Does Steve know about all of this?” Eddie can hear you suck in a breath, like the question had startled you, but that simple action had answered it already for him. “Y/N you gotta tell him. This isn’t something you keep from him.” 

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop, but the idea of telling Steve all this just keeps them flowing. “He knows about the nightmares.” 

“But not about the man in your head?” 

“I know I need to tell him, but Steve’s already been through so much. This would destroy him.” You state, lifting your head to look over at Eddie. 

“So you’re just gonna let it destroy you instead?” Eddie asks in a disapproving tone and when you don’t answer he scoffs in disbelief. “I tended to keep my distance from Harrington through high school, but Y/N if there is one thing I know about him it’s that you mean a hell of a lot to him. This isn’t something you keep from him because you’re afraid it will destroy him. God forbid something happens to you and he finds out afterwards. That would destroy him more than you confiding your troubles in him now, letting him be there for you like he wants to be.” 

“I told you.” You whisper, like it actually meant something, like at least you told someone. 

Eddie sighs and leans back against the wooden wall, the weight of everything finally settling in. “I can’t help you through this like he can Y/N.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The whole drive back into town is completely silent. It’s awkward and everyone tries to act like they hadn’t heard the whole argument Steve and you had moments ago. Steve’s gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white and everyone knows better than to make a single peep. At one point Dustin clears his throat and Julie nearly jumps out of her seat to try and smother the sound, especially when she sees Steve glare back at them from through the rearview mirror. Robin even considers offering her not so helpful words of wisdom at one point, but for once in her life she knows when to bite her tongue. 

Steve drops everyone off one by one starting with Robin until eventually all that’s left is Julie. He puts the car in park in the driveway, but doesn’t turn the ignition off and that has Julie pausing her movements. 

“Are you not coming in?” She asks from the passenger seat. 

Steve shrugs, his fingers gliding over the steering wheel to try and act like it wasn’t a big deal, like he wanted nothing more than to not have to go sleep at his house. “Doesn’t feel right if Y/N’s not here.” 

“Steve, you practically live here. My Mom literally asks you what you want for dinner more than she asks me.” 

That ugly green feeling has still taken root in his chest and he knows he said he trusted you and he does, but he can’t help but let that monster still plague his mind. Let him think the worst about what your real intentions might have been to stay there with Eddie. That everything you two had been through, what you’d done, what you’d said– it was all a lie. He wishes he wasn’t like this, but he can’t help it. 

“Do you think she has feelings for Eddie?” He blurts out.

Julie gives him a look like she was questioning if he is being serious and when she realizes he is she laughs in his face. Steve shoots her a dirty look and it makes that feeling in his chest twist even more, was he that much of an idiot that he hadn’t seen it sooner? 

“Stop asking stupid questions.” Julie says breathless from the laughter. 

“I’m being serious Julie. Why else would she not want me to stay with her? If she really did want to talk to him about what happened why would it be such a big deal if I stayed to?” 

Julie leans over slightly on the middle console and wraps her hand around Steve’s. “I’m saying this to you because I love you like a brother and I feel like we can be honest with each other. She’s been through some shit Steve and Eddie has clearly gone through some shit. She probably just wants to talk to him about it.” 

“I’ve been through shit! You’ve been through shit! Why isn’t she talking to us?” Steve thinks that’s the dumbest reasoning anyone could give. In what world would Steve not understand what you’d been through? 

“You act like you don’t know my sister at all. What I’m trying to say is that she doesn’t like burdening us with her issues if you haven’t noticed. Even if we make it clear that we want to be there for her it’s probably easier for her to open up to someone like Eddie who doesn’t really know her, than someone who’s gonna take her hurt and wear it on their sleeve.” 

Steve throws his head back against the headrest with a frustrated sigh. All he ever wanted to do was be there for you, to protect you, and from what Julie was saying it sounded like you were going to Eddie for that instead of him. 

“Steve, she loves you, like so much it makes me sick, but because she loves you she doesn’t want to hurt you with what she’s been going through. She thinks she can handle it all on her own, but you know her better than anyone and she needs you more than she lets on. So stop spiraling because there is no way in hell I’d let Eddie Munson be my brother in law.” 

That gets a breathy laugh from Steve and he finds himself fidgeting with the keys in the ignition, testing if he really can go inside and sleep in your bed without you. 

Julie rolls her eyes and is already halfway out of the car before she speaks. “Just come inside. She’ll be fine and if something happens she’ll radio us.” 

He turns the keys and the reflection from the headlights against the garage door disappears as the car turns off. The walkie feels like it weighs a ton as he carries it inside, the weight of it much more metaphorical than literal. It was his only lifeline to you throughout the night and that weighed heavy in his chest. 

The ascent up the stairs and to your room is slow, like he’s delaying the inevitable, not wanting to spend a night without you. But eventually he slowly pushes open your door and flips the light switch. Everything is exactly the same as you two had left it this morning, your clothes still strewn on the floor from the previous night's activities, your comforter still a bunched up mess, and the glass of water that Steve had gotten for you after your panic attack still sits on your nightstand. 

You should already be comfy under the covers waiting for him like you are when he has to work the closing shift, but you aren’t. You’re clear across town alone with a guy that isn’t Steve and it makes his chest burn with something deeper than jealousy. 

Steve sets the walkie down on your desk and starts to head towards your dresser for a clean pair of boxers to change into, but something catches his eye. 

Your diary. 

It’s a simple leather bound journal, something he’s seen you write in a handful of times, and really he’s never had any desire to look at it. That’s your personal thoughts and everyone deserves privacy, but that little devil on his shoulder and that green feeling in his chest has his finger ghosting over the spine. The leather is cool to the touch and he spends a lot of time just touching the outside of it, knowing that he shouldn’t open it, shouldn’t invade your privacy like this, but he can’t help himself. 

His fingers grip the edge and he’s flipped it open without even a second thought, his eyes scanning the page until they land on the date at the top. 

October 20th, 1985

It was meant to be a drunken, one time thing. A stupid mistake fuelled by alcohol where the lines between hatred and lust had blurred. You had run into each other at a party and, after a stupid argument that had begun over who would be doing the opening shift at Family Video the next morning, Steve had asked you to dance. Told you to loosen up. You had bristled but said yes.

What came next was a blur. You remember an innocent dance between coworkers had turned into you grinding on him. How Steve’s hands—large and firm against your skin—had pulled you closer. How you had felt his hardened cock through his jeans against your ass. You remember the feeling you got—starting as a fluttering feeling in your stomach before it had swooped down, straight to your cunt which throbbed in sudden excitement. How your heart had started to beat a little quicker. How you had felt the heat build in your gut, your panties dampening as you moved with him.

You don’t remember who kissed who first. All you knew was that it didn’t stop at a kiss.

You both had stumbled into a nearby bathroom, unable to pull away from each other. Lips locked in a kiss that was all tongue, teeth and a burning in your veins that couldn’t be put out. The world around you blurring as Steve’s tongue slid against yours, kissing you like he meant it. You kissed him back like he didn’t think you were the most annoying person in the world. His long fingers dipping beneath your skirt and slipping your panties to the side before sliding through your wetness. He had been so smug about how wet you were and you didn’t even have time to tell him to fuck off before he was plunging two fingers inside of you.

Steve Harrington had made you come in under five minutes with just his fingers alone and then—he had fucked you mericlessly against the bahtroom countertop. And it was safe to say that you had been borderline addicted to him ever since. You met up after work a lot to fuck. It was mostly you coming over to his house while his parents were away (which happened a lot). Sometimes it happened in his car in the parking lot. Once or two it happened in your house, his hand covering your mouth as he fucked you at a tortuously slow pace, reminding you in hushed whispers of how your parents were just downstairs while he angled your hips so his cock would kiss your cervix in a way that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

But despite the fact you and Steve were fucking on a regular basis, he still annoyed you. In fact, you would consider him your least favourite person in the world. The fact he had made you come more times than you could count made no difference.

At least that was what you had told yourself.

Steve was looking at you as you continued to rewind tapes. He wasn’t subtle about it—he never was. In fact, it was a downright miracle that Robin had not worked out what you and Steve had been doing for the past few weeks. His hazel eyes tracked your every moment while Robin ranted to him about Keith putting her on Saturday shifts for the next four weeks.

“—I mean, I have a life, you know? Like Vickie actually wanted to hang out with me this weekend! Do you know how much of a big deal that is? Sure I wasn’t going to make a move on her or anything, it was just shopping but now I’m going to have to tell her I’m working and—”

The bell above the door sounded and you briefly glanced up and when you did, your heart sunk. Just a little bit.

Penny Baker had just walked in. A regular customer and former captain of the cheer squad at Hawkins High. The one Steve always flirted with just to piss you off. At least, that was what you suspected he was doing when his eyes flickered over to yours with amusement in them. 

Today was no different. Penny twirled her dark hair around her finger and laughed brightly as Steve gave nonsensical film suggestions.

You felt something dark twist in your gut the way it always did when Steve flirted with someone else. 

You had convinced yourself it wasn’t jealousy. That the feeling in your gut was something else entirely. And so, you ignored it. You acted as though it didn’t bother you. Though, it clearly did and Steve could tell. Hence why his eyes kept flickering over to you every time he made Penny laugh.

“You know,” Steve mused after Penny had left with a Valley Girl tape tucked under her arm. “It’s cute when you’re jealous.”

You let out something close to a laugh, slamming the most recently rewound tape onto the counter. “It’s cute that you think I’m jealous.”

“Oh sweet girl,” Steve murmurs, stepping a little closer to you to whisper in your ear, revelling in the way your breath hitches. That damned nickname he always used. The one that made your cunt clench around nothing. “You were jealous. Don’t bother denying it. Could see it all over your face.”

You say nothing, turning your head to glare at him before grabbing the box of returns on top of the counter. You make sure that your arm collides with his and he laughs openly as you walk towards the stock room.

You know he’ll follow and he does.

Robin was too busy distracted with a customer to notice.

You feel his presence behind you in the stock room as the door closes softly shut behind the two of you.

“You gonna start harassing me at work now?” You ask him as you place the box of tapes onto a nearby shelf, mindlessly organising them as Steve stands directly behind you. You try to ignore the way your heart hammers in your chest.

“Harassing you?” Steve asks, amused as he lifts a hand to brush your hair away from your neck. The action was so tender and intimate it made you drop the tape that was in your hand. “You gonna pick that up?”

You swallow, eyes flicker down to the tape on the floor. “Maybe. You gonna stop accusing me of being jealous?”

“Depends,” Steve murmurs, fingers tracing over the skin on your neck—over the mark he had left a few days prior that hadn’t yet faded—and smiling when you shudder. “You gonna stop being jealous, sweet girl?”

You huff, face warming at the pet name. “Go to hell, Harrington.” You tell him, turning around to glare at him some more but your breath catches when you realise just how close he was.

“You don’t mean that baby,” Steve says, his hand trailing from your neck, over your heaving breasts before his fingers splay across your stomach. “You want me right here, ain’t that right?”

You don’t say anything which was enough of an answer. Steve smiles at you as he begins to kneel down in front of you.

“Steve—what are you—we’re at work—”

“I’m just getting the tape,” Steve tells you innocently, despite the fact his hands were roaming over your jean-clad thighs. Despite the way his pupils were dilated as he looked up at you. Had that look on his face as though he wanted to devour you. “That okay, sweet girl?”

He asks the question casually but the way his nose nudges your cunt over your jeans tells you that Steve Harrington was not just on his knees to help you retrieve a tape.

“If we get caught—”

“We won’t,” Steve tells you before he leans in—unzipping your jeans with his damn teeth in a move that makes heat pool between your legs while simultaneously making you want to strangle him for being so effortlessly smooth.

Steve helped you shimmy out of your jeans, his breath hot against your skin as he left wet kisses along your inner thigh.

“Can smell how much you want me,” Steve tells you, his nose pressing against the damp patch that had collected in your panties. “So fucking sweet as always, baby.”

“Shut up,” you gasp out, your fingers curling in his hair as you lean back against the shelving unit behind you.

Steve smiles, inhaling the sweet scent of your arousal through the cotton of your panties before his lips press against where he knew your clit to be. It was over the material but it still made a small whimper leave your lips. Still had your back arching as he moaned against you.

“Steve—”

“Patience, baby,” he tells you, pulling away enough to look up at you as his hands begin to gently pull your panties down your legs—his cock twitching beneath his jeans when he sees how your pussy glistened in the low lights of the stock room. “Let me take care of her for a minute. She’s crying for me.”

And then, his mouth is on you. His tongue hot and eager as it glides between your folds, coating the tip with your arousal and groaning as he tastes you properly.

“So fucking sweet,” his murmurs against you, his hand wrapping around one of your thighs and helping you lift it over his shoulder. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted. You think I want someone else's when I have yours, sweet girl?”

You bite back a moan, knowing that if you didn’t it would be loud and wanton, knowing Robin would hear it. Steve liked to say things like this during sex—liked to tell you that you were the only one he needed. You were sure it was just pillow talk. You didn’t really know if he truly meant it. But it made your heart race all the same.

“You don’t mean that,” you manage to say as his tongue continues to glide through your folds, a slow torture that had your fingers tightening in his hair.

“I do,” he murmurs against you—dark eyes flickering up to meet yours. “No one else.”

There’s a moment where you just look at each other—a quiet understanding there before his lips wrap around your clit and then? You were gone.

Steve Harrington took no mercy on you, sucking on your sensitive bud enough to make you whimper before he dips down to fuck you with his tongue. It was nothing short of torture, his tounge licking in and out of you and his nose—that fucking beautiful nose of his—nudging against your swollen clit. You felt your hips moving without permission. The wet sounds of his mouth on you filling the quiet store room. His muffled moans against your soaked cunt as your hips chased his mouth, his fingers digging into the plush flesh of your thighs.

You could have come from his tongue alone. But Steve wanted you to see stars.

When two of his long, thick fingers slid into you—you were so close to crying out that you had to stuff your fist into your mouth to prevent yourself from doing so. You could feel Steve smile against you, his fingers curling and finding that spot inside of you with ease. A whimper manages to escape and Steve groans, curling his fingers again and again until your thighs were trembling.

“Stevie,” you gasp out—the nickname that you only ever used in these moments, when you were right on the edge and Steve was the only one you trusted to catch you. “I’m so close—I’m going to—”

“I got you, baby,” he tells you, still moving his fingers inside of you. “Don’t you worry. I got you.”

If you weren’t so close, you may have thought more about the look in his eyes. Would have thought more about the way he was gripping onto you like he never wanted to let you go. But the feeling building in your gut was too intense, too all consuming to think of anything else but his fingers and his tongue and—

“Stevie, oh god—Stevie—”

Your orgasm hits you hard. Had Steve not been holding you so tightly, you may have collapsed entirely. But he held you—steady and firm as your walls fluttered around his fingers, your release coating his tongue and Steve lapping up every damn drop as though it was liquid gold.

Your fingers curl into his hair for a brief moment before you let go. Your breathing erratic as you come back down to earth from the intensity of your orgasm, your eyes wide when they meet his hazel ones.

His lips were wet, soaked from your release and god—he looked so beautiful that it took your breath away for a few moments. You blink, softer now in the aftermath of your bliss. You didn’t argue as Steve helped you step into your panties, as he pulled them up your legs. You didn’t make a comment as he also helped you into your jeans.

“You know I mean it, right?” Steve asks you quietly as he gently pulls up your jeans, his eyes meeting yours as he stands up straight.

“Mean what?” You ask him quietly, your eyes flickering between his as you try to understand what he meant. Though, deep down, you think you already know.

“That I don’t need anyone else,” he says. “Not when I have you.”

You swallow, the admission hanging between the two of you. You’re not quite sure what to say and you’re certainly not sure how to feel about what he had just said. But your traitorous heart hammers against your chest and your cheeks burn.

“Careful Harrington,” you murmur back quietly. “Keep talking like that and I’ll think you actually like me.”

Steve smiles—he actually smiles at that—and looks away from you, down at the forgotten tape still on the floor between you.

“Something like that,” he says quietly before he bends down to actually retrieve the tape.

You want to say something more, want to tell him how seeing him with Penny and the other giggling customers made you feel. But you didn’t.

You just watch as he returns the tape to the box of returns. You watch as he adjusts himself in his jeans, shooting you a wink.

“You can help me out later,” Steve tells you and you fight back a smile.

“If you’re lucky,” you say, knowing that you would inevitably have his cock in your mouth a few hours later.

Steve smiles, leaning in to press a kiss that was almost sweet to your forehead.

“Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

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Sadie Sink, Dacre, Sean Austin and you.

You remember it like it was yesterday. Sean Austin was sat with David Harbour across the table from you, Sadie was down a row next to Millie, Dacre on her other side. You were placed next to Joe Keery.

That's how it began. Since that day you hadn't gone a year, hardly a month without seeing him. Every day texts were exchanged, a bond deep in your bones settling there.

GQ magazine - Joe Keery ten things he can't live without

"This ring-" he took it off his index finger, the one he always wore it on and showed it to the camera. To anyone else it was simple design, a silver band that really didn't hold much to it. "A co-star of mine got it for me, whilst filming season five- actually on our last day of shooting. Um, yeah it means a lot to me, I don't take it off ever- except to show the camera-"

The camera didn't focus on the ring and it was for sure the thing nobody was focusing on when they watched the video. They watched Joe's face as he spoke about the ring, holding it tenderly.

"Yeah, she got it for me. We have matching rings, she has one. And um, inside there's an inscription but you don't need to know what it says," he laughed, making a display in sliding it back onto his finger.

He carried on like the rest of the video would go normally.

Everyone knew in the comments, there was only one who he could be talking about. They all named and shamed you, each other wondering what the inscription could have been.

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Y/n: throwback Thursday or whatever

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Finnwolfhardoffical: it’s Wednesday

Gatenmatarazzo: it’s Wednesday

Milliebobbybrown: it’s Wednesday

Y/n: I hope my character fucking dies in the next season

You remembered third season, when other cast members joined but one night, you and Joe had steeled away to a bar down Atlanta. A September night together, nothing un-common.

Yet, the unspoken feelings in your soul, that knowing of him in your bones rose with the vodka. The two of you were sat at the bar, drinks in hand- drinks number whatever you'd gotten up to. He was looking at you. You were looking at him, messing with your hair just to put your hands somewhere on yourself, not him.

And Joe was looking at you with a thousand things to say.

"You know, this is good," he'd said that night.

"What?"

He looked at you like you knew the obvious, head tilting. "C'mon."

You chuckled. "Joe-"

"Is it awkward, I've made it awkward?"

"No, no-"

It was drunken slurs with sober thoughts, a desperation to get words on papers. To see if the wavelength was shared.

"You know," he said, peering close at you, his knee pumping yours with his entire attention on you. "You know, right?"

Of course you knew. That not every touch should've lingered like it did, that every glance got slightly longer and longer. That being one of the first to hear the music he was working on wasn't something he did sparingly. That nights out when (as much as you loved them) the rest of the cast were not invited.

You nodded, a sly smile on your lips. "I know."

You knew there were a thousand things Joe did that could've invited you into him, but they weren't invitations. They were just him and you falling helplessly.

Joe looked to his glass, chuckling to himself and rubbing at his eye. "Okay. So we... we both know that this-" he gestured between the two of you, dropping his hand on your knee.

You took a second, sipping your drink.

"I know that this could be bad," you said.

"Bad? What?"

You lifted your shoulders in a shrug, clasping his hand that was slightly higher on your 'knee' then you realised. "What if things went badly? I mean- one thing co-stars should never do is date, and on a franchise."

Joe was listening to you as he always did tipsy or otherwise.

Maybe you were making the greatest mistake of your life. Admitting your feelings to him, your closest friend only to tell him that you didn't want to date. You did. But it was scary. Scarier even the fact you'd see him every day, work with him, getting lost in movements and characters.

"If things went badly, if we weren't sure we'd have to carry on like it didn't.... hurt," you rambled. "And you are love, you a love personified in a human. I don't want to lose that ever in my life."

It went back and forth a little more, hashing it the feelings you both felt, the draw whether it being sexual or not. Hashing out the fears you both had and finding them similar. In the end, you carried on with a couple more drinks, got different cars to take you back to your apartments and it went on as always. A respect and understanding that lasted almost three years.

But when it was announced Stranger Things, season five, the end... well, rules went out the window.

Capital FM interview

You and Charlie sat, gently kicking yourself side to side on your spiny chairs, careful not to get the wires of your headphones tangled.

"So, y/n," they addressed you.

Your eyes went wide, your heels stopping on the chair.

"How annoyed were you when you found out Joe had written a song about Charlie?" they asked.

Charlie laughed, pulling away from the mic.

You chuckled but quickly feigned a serious hurt. "I don't speak to Joe anymore."

They all laughed.

You broke out into a smile as Charlie hit the back of your chair. You laid your hands out on the table, a certain ring kept on your index finger catching the light. "No, I actually heard Charlie's Garden before Charlie so there's that. If I didn't want that song out it would not have been out-"

"You have that much of a say in the process of the album?" they asked, eager to do their jobs at get the dirt with what fans loved to speculate about. Were you and Joe in a relationship or not? It was on every fans of yours and his mind.

"Yeah," you said. "But I love that song- I mean, I love every song on the album and we lived- while filming season five- right across from Charlie and Natalia and they got the best garden so we would always be over there, hanging out and yeah, it deserves a song."

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Djotime: whatever man

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User1: THELAST PICTURE OMG

User2: is that y/n in the last picture?!?!?

Y/n: ❤️

↪️ Djotime: ❤️

Joe picked you up from your place, his role as the designated driver of you and maybe another when they needed it had been going since season two. There was a reason he was known as the best driver in the cast.

There was no reason for him to get out the car and greet you as he did. He saw you yesterday at a read through before filming began but he wrapped his arms around you like he hadn't seen you in weeks. Months. His arms were tight around you, squeezing you into him as his hand swept up and down your back.

You got into his car, talking, only slightly watching him drive from the corner of your eye. A hand on the wheel, his eyes on the road but his attention all on you as your body turned to him in the passenger seat. You knew it in the way he played with his bottom lip, pinching it between his finger and thumb.

By the time you guys got to set there was scripts ready to hand out for the day, a camera crew filming for the documentary you knew was being done.

Joe got out first, hurrying around to get your door for you.

He was smiling as you got out.

"Morning guys," she greeted as she handed you guys the scripts.

Joe already had an arm around your shoulder, drawing you in as you took the scripts on account of him also having his bag slung over his shoulder and yours in his other hand. "Good morning."

"Last first day," said the camera man.

It was like that every morning of the filming for season five, a compilation created of you and Joe walking onto set, arm around your shoulder, yours going around your waist.

Everyone noticed. Everyone had been rooting for you since they saw the way you looked at each other when filming your 'platonic' scenes together. Everyone rejoiced when you always sat next to him at readings, your head going to the crook of his shoulder like it was made to fit there.

As the months went on it just got better.

Your friendship hanging on a thread. With the early morning drives no matter if you had an early start and Joe didn't. He was there like clockwork. The touches got longer, the glances lingering more. The dinners became more frequent, a hand falling on your thigh or his knee nudging yours every time.

The park dates were an almost every time thing when you both had days off.

Nobody saw you or Joe without the other.

Noah, Gaten, Caleb and Finn interview,

"Do you guys have any crazy rumours you've heard about yourselves, or anyone on the cast?" asked the interviewer, holding her cards to her chest as she looked at each other.

They were silent while they thought.

"I've seen some crazy ones," said Gaten. "It's like when I look myself up and they have those options up top, I go straight to news."

There was a confusion and silence.

"I'm too scared to look myself up, I don't do that anymore-" said Noah.

"Sorry, I thought you said nudes-"

"I thought you said nudes," said Caleb, agreeing with the interview.

Gaten straightened. "Oh, no, Jesus Christ- news."

"That's a rumour we don't want to start," said the interviewer.

"I dunno, I think I've seen some crazy rumours," said Noah, looking around at them.

"Noah-"

"Noah-"

They all warned in chorus, knowing his reputation as the spoiler, even if he did it by accident half the time.

Noah blushed, chuckling. "No I was just gonna say I don't get how people don't think Joe and Y/N are dating, remember there was that rumour they hated each other."

Caleb smirked. "Oh yeah."

It was well known between all the cast, especially the kids that you and Joe were practically dating and, as of filming that interview, were official to their delight. But not everybody knew that.

"Yeah, that's true," said Finn stretching out.

Gaten and Caleb shared a small look at the prospect of the secret being out.

Liked by…. Milliebobbybrown, Y/N, and 1m more

Djotime: that’s a wrap baby

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User1: djotime being a fan account to y/n is so real

User2: y’all can’t tell me they’re not in love that you seen their interviews?!

Y/N: ❤️

The wrap party was huge, large, held in a warehouse in a secret location that had been hard enough to find. There were people you were sure you'd never even seen on set there. Crew and cast, families and trusted friends of both adding to the number.

The bar was large and free for the night and where you went first.

It was manic, crazy, a tacky disco ball somewhere ahead of you shining down.

It had been five minutes, a personal best for you before you started searching the crowd for Joe. Maybe he wasn't there yet or maybe he'd brought his sisters and they'd all got lost in the crowd. It was possible.

You integrated yourself into the party, sipping your drink and chatting, laughing. Tears that had shed on the last day of set turning to smiles as you all remembered times together.

It must have been an hour in when you got away to the bar.

You'd just ordered a drink when an arm, strong and warm wrapped around your waist and squeezed, spinning you.

Joe. "I've been looking for you all night," he said, half yelling over the 50-cent song playing.

"And you didn't think to check the bar?" you laughed, hugging him back.

You felt his smile against your skin as his head dipped. He sighed like he was in relief at having you in his arms.

"You look beautiful," he said into your skin, the words tattooing there.

The two of you forgot about the bar, forgot about your friends begging for attention as you bathed in each others presence. You leant on the bar without ordering, leaning in to each other to hear, his hand steady at your elbow as he dipped his head.

You had no idea how long you guys were standing there, talking about everything and nothing with the heavy knowing sitting with you that Stranger Things was over. It would come out in less than a year and then you'd be free to... well, too ruin a friendship with your favourite person.

"I got you something," you said over the music, reaching into your purse while Joe waited, admiring you.

The box you pulled out was small, big enough for a ring only.

Joe took it, keeping a hold on your wrist with one hand and opening it with the other.

A band of silver sat there, polished and glorious. It seemed pretty simple at first, an easy statement.

"It's beautiful," he said, taking it out the box and looking at it in the low light.

"It has my name inside," you told him, breath fanning his ear.

He looked to you and then grabbed out his phone, not to take a picture- he'd never need a picture as every picture of him from that day forward had him and had the ring featured- he used the torch to shine inside of it.

In his hand writing there was your name engraved in the curve of the band.

Joe was speechless, only moving to look at you.

You were sliding off a gold bond that you hadn't worn till today and showing him. It was just the same as his, gold and in your handwriting his name followed the curve.

He only stared at you.

"If it doesn't fit or it's not your style don't worry. You don't have to wear it, it was just sentiment and-"

Joe had the ring slipped onto his thumb were it sat snug but it was the first place he thought to place it as he grabbed your neck and kissed you.

It was desperate and slow, eager to get the taste of you on his lips but knowing, finally, you had all the time in the world to enjoy the feeling. His lips were soft and your lipstick was smearing over him as his hands cupped at your jaw and worked your mouth open, the cool band of his ring slicing the burning heat on your face.

Your arms went up to his back, pulling him in closer.

Some Taylor Swift song started playing but you could hardly feel the rhythm over the feel of Joe and the pounding of your own heart.

It could have been another hour, or maybe the party was over when you pulled away. But finally you did to catch your breath.

"I got all of that on camera by the way!"

The two of you turned, realising almost half the cast had gathered, witnessing your make out.

Millie was grinning wide looking like she might shed a tear with her phone out, recording the two of you.

At her side Noah was making kissy noises.

Gaten and Finn had their arms around each other, jumping up and down like children.

"Shit, has this turned into an engagement party?" asked Finn when he caught sight of the bands.

No, it wasn't but it turned into a celebration of the ending of almost a decade of story telling and seven years of yearning turning into you and Joe entwined with each other.

Interview,

"So after ten years of all of you guys," said the interview as Maya, Charlie, Natalia, you and Joe all sat together, slightly cramped on a small sofa.

"Most of us," joked Maya with a grin.

You laughed with her, reaching over a hand and holding it up for a high five. "Late comers, baby!"

She did so, laughing, hand catching the gold band you wore on the opposite hand of Joe's own.

You returned back into you seat, shuffling between and settling in, Joe's leg almost on top of yours. He'd leant as far back into the corner as he could, stretching out his arm over the back of it just so he could un-knowing to the camera mess with your hair, taking a strand between his fingers.

Well, the both of you thought it was discreet but the fans wondered why you're hair was moving like that and where Joe's hands were disappearing to.

"Was there a party to celebrate?" asked the interviewer. "Or a get together."

Unknowingly all heads turned to you and Joe.

"Oh, there was a party," Maya chuckled.

"There was a party," agreed Charlie, looking down to where his hands clasped at his knee with a sly smirk.

"Yeah, it was crazy," said Natalia.

"There was a massive party in a warehouse, in a very secret location," Joe described. "We were all there." He looked down the sofa, giving a small nod to you. You nodded back.

"A lot of memories made," you agreed, leaning back into the sofa, un-consciously leaning in closer to your boyfriend.

"A lot," he agreed, with a wide grin on his face as he playfully tugged at your hair.

Maya laughed at the two of you. "But there was a strict no phones allowed to avoid, like, spoilers, I guess."

Charlie looked aghast. He laughed. "Was there?"

You all knew full well they had plenty of pictures of you all and you and Joe more so. After the rings were put on both of your fingers you each took turns in snapping shots every second: shaking hands stupidly with the bands on show, fingers wrapped around a glass or in each others hair.

They spoke of the party but Joe got your attention, splaying out his hand and you knew he was indicating for you to do the same. It was a little game the two of you played, putting hands next to each other to keep tabs on the rings.

Fans had noticed, of course they had and the next day after the interview was published, it was almost everyone's knowledge what had gone down at that party.

G!PNat x reader

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Natasha did actually get you a ring, a promise ring at that. The Russian spoke of how it was just a place holder for the time being as you two settle properly into your relationship of being girlfriends.

Natasha showed her... protective (more like possessive) side as she continued to go to your bakery. You, knowing your girlfriends order by this time, automatically have her black coffee and pastry ready for her to take. The Widow would sit at the back of the bakery, silently eating her baked good while she drank her black coffee, her green eyes trail over your frame as you work the counter and greet regular customers with your welcoming smile.

You two fell into a small routine, you working your bakery as she watched from the far corner, making sure no one dared to touch you, or even show a tad bit of disrespect to you. It was her way of showing her... love?

Although, she would never say it aloud- not yet at least.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It was late afternoon in the comfort of your own home when Natasha had you pinned to the couch as her mouth worked wonders on the skin of your neck. Her pristine teeth grazing the flesh as she left small marks of her possession all over you in the colours of a blue mixed purple.

You thread your fingers through Natasha's red hair, softly moaning into her mouth as you tug her closer to your body, her bulge grinding on your sex.

"Natasha-" you whimper into her mouth through the kiss. "Yeah, detka?"

"I need you, daddy, please." You beg your girlfriend, your hips grind up to meet her bulge.

"How badly do you need me, sweetheart?" Natasha teased, her fingers squeeze at your nipple through your thin tank top. "So badly, daddy, please." You moan as your fingers tug at her red hair. "So fucking badly you decided not to wear a bra today? Naughty move, sweetheart."

Her raspy voice sent shivers down your spine causing your skin to heat up in embarrassment of getting caught.

Your eyes met hers in defense, "We stayed at home today, so I just thought..." you trail off. "You just thought what?" Her nose nudged against yours as her red lips held a small smirk on them, "you thought you'd tease me today? Drive me fucking insane every time I saw your nipples harden in the cold, just waiting for my mouth. To worship you."

Natasha's voice dropped to a low husk, her hand squeezed at your left boob through the thin material of your top before roughly tearing the material open from your collar to the hem.

"Natasha!" You gasp in surprise. "Relax, sweetheart," Natasha started moving her waiting lips down the valley of your breasts until she got to the lace underwear you were wearing, an underwear you knew Natasha is obssessed with.

Also the first pair she saw you in when she peeked through your window and stalked into your room whilst you showered. It became almost as if it were a... game, wearing it whenever you could just to spur the Russian on and get her worked up.

Natasha's hand squeezed your hip, her rough thumb tracing over the lace as she grinned, placing a kiss over your clothed labia. Her teeth tugged at the material as her green eyes look up at yours from between your legs, seeing through you to your neediness.

Your underwear was the next to go, followed by Natasha removing her own clothing. She kept her shirt on though, no matter how much you begged to see her, to feel her. Her jeans were shuffled down to her mid thigh, her boxers pulled down enough to free her member. Natasha leaned over your body, a hand planted beside your head as her other hand guided her length to your entrance.

"Natasha-" you gasp aloud, hips bucking up to meet her thrust, the Russian groaned as she moved her forehead to lean against yours. "There we go, baby," Natasha smirked against your lips as she buried herself deep inside of you.

The coarse fabric of Natasha's jeans pressed against your skin as she pressed her hips against yours. Your fingers moved to grasp the shirt over Natasha's chest, begging to feel her skin against yours.

Natasha kissed you passionately, her other hand moved to grope your breast with her callous skinned hand, you whimper due to the rough texture on your sensitive skin.

"Take your top off." You moan into Natasha's mouth, gripping the material as your eyes roll back when her cock hits a sensitive spot inside of you. "What was that?" Natasha cocked her head to the side. "Please." Your hips buck up to meet your thrust, "it's unfair, daddy."

"Oh, yeah?" Her lips make work of your warm skin of your chest, her fingers squeezed at your nipple, "how so, sweetheart?"

Your head is thrown back against the couch cushion when her cock moved deeply, hitting the spongy spot inside of you. "Oh, daddy," you pant out, your thighs tremble, "I wanna t-touch you. Please." You beg your girlfriend. "You are touching me, sweetheart," Natasha pecked your lips gently with a cocky smirk, she continued her thrusts against your body, her cock repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot inside of you.

"N-no, your skin, daddy," you whimper, gasping when she hits that delicious spot inside of you again, "fuck- daddy, please. Please take your top off." You beg, you need to feel her skin beneath your fingertips.

Natasha deeply pecked your lips again, "All you had to say, baby. The magic word." Her voice held a mocking tone as she pushed herself up onto her knees. The redhead pulled her top off before tossing it loosely on the floor. "Better?" She rhetorically asked. You nod dumbly as your hands immediately go to rub over her heated skin, tracing the ab lines before your index finger lingered on an old gunshot wound scar.

"So much better, thank you, daddy," your fingers dig into her abs, you release a loud moan. Natasha swapped hands she moved to grope your other boob, Natasha lays sweet kisses over your cheek as she thrusted deep inside of you.

"Daddy, I'm close," you moan into her neck. "That's it, baby," the Russian groaned, "come for me." Her face fell into your neck.

What you both failed to do... was to hear the door knob turning. An elderly woman stepped into the threshold, "What in Heaven's name is going on here!"

The sound of your mother's voice rang through the adrenaline. Immediately cutting your through your sense and ending the close of your release.

"Mother!" You pushed Natasha off of you in fear, instantly grabbing a throwaway blanket to pull over your naked body. Natasha pulled out quickly and tucked herself back into her boxers and fastened the button of her jeans again.

"Mom-" you start. "Don't." The elder woman seethes, she eyed the panting Russian that seemed to hover over you.

Natasha eyed the older woman, her fingers twitch against her thigh as her green eyes assess the woman who stood with a rigid structure, her hand clutched tightly over a silver chain, holding the cross tightly.

"Get dressed," She spoke smoothly. "Mother, please," you beg, your eyes trying to find a single shred of emotion behind her cold eyes. Her eyes wouldn't even look at you. You swallow as you glance at your girlfriend who's already looking between you two. "Can you look at me please? I- I can explain, mother. Please, I can- can you look at me, please?" you begged, your heart raced in fear, her ignorance of your pleads only made your heart sink further.

"I cannot even think to look at you right now!" She spoke calmly even though angered simmered in her voice, "I mean look at you. Pathetic. Fornicating? With another woman at that. A disgrace you are. I raised you to be a good Christian woman."

Her cold words struck deep bringing cloudy tears to your eyes.

Your mother turned to leave, storming out.

"Mother, wait," you scrambled off the couch, the blanket clutched tightly to your body, shrugging Natasha's hold on your forearm, "stop, I need to get to her." Natasha let you go with a sigh, she followed, tugging her jeans up properly.

"Mother," you call after the poised woman. She quickly spun around, finger in your face, "don't you dare call me that. Not after what you did."

"I love her, she's my girlfriend," you defend yourself. "She is a sin you are allowing to corrupt you and your soul." Her wrinkly finger shook in your face. "No, mother it's not like that, please. We love each other."

"Then you'll go to Hell with each other." She stormed off without another word.

You felt your world spin as you saw your mother storm away from you. "Don't listen to her, baby." You felt strong arms wrap around your body followed by lips pressed against your temple.

You felt her textured thumb rub under your eye of any tear that fell.

Without realising it, Natasha lead you back to the couch, her fingers worked her jean's button and tugged the material down her thighs again before releasing herself free from the constraints of her boxers.

"You have me," her hand cupped your cheek gently as her length pushed back inside you where it was prior minutes before the rude disturbance of your mother.

Your eyes track Natasha's greens, releasing a sound of pleasure as she hit the tender spot of before. "You have me," Natasha spoke in final, you'll only ever need her.

Your mother was a disturbance meant to be dealt with, and she will... once she's finished with you.

"Oh, Nat-" your mind is erased of the pain and quickly replaced by the pleasure of having your girlfriend's cock deeply embedded inside you.

"That's it, focus on me." her voice is deep, possessive, "Only me." Her hand held your hip, her other arm she rested on her forearm beside your head. "Only you, daddy." You can't help but agree, feeling warmth build in your stomach again, you clench around Natasha desperately. The Russian laughed, "Already?" Her lips left a soft press against your cheek before she increased her pace.

You loudly came, moaning into Natasha's mouth as you felt her deepen her thrust, your internal walls flooding with her warm come, filling you up completely without a doubt, marking you as hers.

Natasha internally smirked, a dark glint covered her eyes. You're now forever hers... never mind that wretched mother of yours.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Natasha made true to her promise. That was certain when you woke up every morning sick for a week straight.

You did not want to get your hopes up just yet so you bought three pregnancy tests and Natasha is the most supportive girlfriend she has ever been.

Natasha would wait outside the bathroom as you urinate on all three pregnancy sticks.

"Now we wait, five minutes," you sigh as you step out the bathroom. "Five minutes until we find out if we become a little family," Natasha smiled as her hand moved to rub over your stomach, hoping.

Five minutes have never felt longer in your entire life. Natasha held you tightly on the bed as you two waited, the redhead left kisses on your temple and forehead every now and then to soothe your nerves and hers as well.

The sudden ring of the alarm immediately brought you and Natasha out of a trance of the thoughts of having a baby.

Natasha is the one to stand up and collect the white sticks with blue caps...

Her green eyes glossed over, "You're pregnant." Her soft eyes look up at you, "You're pregnant, detka." She sighed almost in disbelief before hugging you tightly.

"I'm pregnant, Nat," you confirm, you lean up to give her soft lips a reassuring kiss that deepened to passion. "You're carrying my baby," Natasha let a hint of her possession flow through, her hand pressed against your stomach where your baby will be growing. Her plan worked. "You know what this means, detka?" Natasha kissed your cheek then went to whisper in your ear, "You're mine. This baby is mine. We're a family now."

And you couldn't help but nod along, you love her, "All yours, Natasha."

You're officially hers.

And you're not going anywhere.

You would be happy staying right here in her possessive embrace.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Uhm... yeah...

I really dunno, so 🤷‍♀️