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Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 15

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

1.4k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings child emotional abuse, panic attack mentioned and described. The mentioned situation is based on my own personal experience with an abusive father and the resulting trauma I have dealt with because of it. I apologise if I trigger anyone.

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

I woke up in Dean’s bed, the sheets tangled around me. The room was still, bathed in the faint glow of the bedside lamp Dean must’ve left on. A glance at the clock told me it was barely 4 a.m. The bunker was silent, its usual hum somehow comforting.

The other side of the bed was empty, untouched, which wasn’t surprising. Memories of last night came flooding back, and I winced. I rubbed at my tired eyes and slid out of bed, pulling on a hoodie to chase off the chill in the air.

Wandering out into the hallway, I found myself in the lounge room. Dean was sprawled out on the couch, his head tilted at an awkward angle, his legs too long to fit comfortably. His hand, now wrapped in a haphazard bandage, rested on his chest. Even in sleep, his brow was furrowed, and he looked... exhausted.

My heart ached at the sight of him. I wanted to curl up beside him, let him hold me, but the fear from last night lingered. Instead, I backed away quietly and headed for the kitchen.

In the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and a granola bar. I leaned against the counter, nibbling at the snack while the weight of everything settled over me. The bunker felt so much bigger when it was this quiet, like the walls were pressing in on me.

Eventually, I wandered to the library. The familiar scent of old books calmed me as I browsed the shelves, running my fingers over the spines until I found a stack of hunters' journals. One caught my eye—its leather cover worn and cracked. I grabbed it, found a cozy armchair, and curled up with it.

Before I knew it, hours had passed. The journal had drawn me in, its pages filled with stories of hunts, danger, and survival. I hadn’t even noticed the time until Dean’s voice broke the silence.

“Y/N?”

I looked up to find him standing in the doorway, his expression cautious. He looked like he hadn’t slept much, his eyes heavy with guilt and worry.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “I don’t expect you to forgive me right now, but I need you to know... I hate that I hurt you. If I’d known—if I’d understood—I never would’ve snapped at you.”

I nodded slowly, not trusting my voice to respond. He seemed to take it as permission to leave, shoving his hands in his pockets as he turned to go.

When he left, I sat there for a while, staring at the journal without really reading it. His words echoed in my mind, mixing with the lingering memories of his anger and the pain I knew he was carrying.

Finally, I stood and made my way to the kitchen. Dean was at the sink, awkwardly trying to clean his bandaged hand. He cursed under his breath when the wrap started to unravel.

“Here,” I said softly, stepping up beside him.

He froze, turning to look at me, his green eyes wide with surprise.

“Let me,” I murmured, taking his hand gently in mine.

I unwrapped the poorly done bandage and winced at the angry red marks on his knuckles. Grabbing the first aid kit from the counter, I cleaned the cuts carefully, my touch as light as possible. Dean didn’t say a word, but I felt his gaze on me the entire time.

Once I had his hand rewrapped, I finally broke the silence. “Dean... I love you,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “And I want to forgive you. But first, I need to know... what did Cas say to you?”

Dean stiffened, his jaw tightening. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he sighed, looking down at his freshly bandaged hand.

“Cas told me that God’s furious with us,” he said quietly. “He thinks we’re ruining his plans. And now... he’s decided that if we don’t stop, he’ll find a way to keep us apart. Even if it means killing one of us.”

My stomach dropped, and I felt my knees go weak. “Killing one of us?” I whispered.

Dean nodded, his eyes dark with pain and determination. “I don’t care what it takes. I’m not letting him win. I’m not letting him take you from me.”

The conviction in his voice was enough to steady me, at least for now. I reached up, cupping his cheek with my hand. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Dean covered my hand with his, leaning into my touch. “Together,” he echoed.

After everything that had happened, I needed some air, some space to think without the weight of the bunker pressing down on me. I decided to head out to the local shops to grab groceries. It was a simple excuse to clear my head, but I needed it.

Dean had offered to come with me, his tone hesitant, almost pleading, but I shook my head. “I’ll be fine,” I’d said, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

He didn’t argue, just watched me leave with a look that made my chest ache.

The grocery store was quiet, the kind of stillness I usually found comforting. I wandered the aisles with a cart, tossing in staples: bread, milk, eggs. The normalcy of it was grounding, pulling me out of my own head, if only a little.

I was reaching for a can of soup when I heard it—the distinct flutter of wings that sent a chill down my spine.

Turning sharply, I found Castiel standing at the end of the aisle, his trench coat looking as rumpled as ever. His expression was serious, his blue eyes full of something I couldn’t quite place.

“Cas,” I said, my voice low but steady. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on mine. “I came to warn you, Y/N.”

“Warn me about what?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“You need to leave Dean,” he said, his tone urgent but firm.

The words hit me like a slap, and anger flared in my chest. “Excuse me?”

“It’s for his own good,” Cas insisted. “For both of you.”

“No,” I snapped, my voice louder now. A couple of shoppers glanced at me before hurrying away, sensing the tension. “You don’t get to waltz in here and tell me to leave him. Not after everything.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, his tone softening but still desperate. “God’s plan was never for you and Dean to be together.”

“Then what was his plan?” I demanded, my hands trembling with rage. “Why did he put me in Dean’s life if I’m just supposed to walk away?”

Cas hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly. “You were meant to be something Dean could never have. A reminder of what he’d lose if he strayed from his path. Your presence was intended to keep him focused on hunting, on defeating the darkness. The anger and frustration of not being able to have you... that was meant to drive him, to help him defeat the devil.”

The words left me stunned, my mind reeling. “So I’m just... what? A tool? A pawn in some divine chess game?”

“It wasn’t my decision,” Cas said, his voice almost apologetic. “It’s God’s plan. And now that you and Dean are together... you’re deviating from it. That deviation could have catastrophic consequences.”

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Catastrophic for who? For God? For his ego?”

“Y/N—”

“No, Cas,” I cut him off, my voice trembling with both anger and pain. “I don’t care what God’s plan was. Dean and I—what we have—it’s real. And I’m not walking away from it because some self-righteous deity thinks he knows what’s best.”

Cas’s shoulders slumped further, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes. “I hope you’re right,” he said quietly. “For both your sakes.”

With that, the sound of wings filled the air again, and he was gone.

I stood there for a moment, my heart pounding and my hands gripping the cart so tightly my knuckles turned white. The fluorescent lights of the grocery store felt harsh, almost unreal.

After a long, shaky breath, I turned back to the shelves, tossing the can of soup into the cart. I wasn’t about to let God or Cas or anyone else decide my life for me. Dean and I would figure this out—together.

And if that meant defying God’s plan? So be it.

Can I be added to the tag list for your objection series? It's so good but I don't check Tumblr often

Most certainly. I'm far from being finished with it. I still have so much I want to put in it.

Heaven forbid my child have a normal birthday party. Nope no way, no how. She couldn't go with just fire fighters. She couldn't go with Paw Patrol or Bluey or anything normal. No it HAS to be Captain Bobby. My 3 year old has to have a Captain Bobby party or the world will end. So now I'm sitting here making custom Captain Bobby invites then I have to go write 118 on the Fire truck piñata we brought so it's Captain Bobby's fire truck or it's not good enough.

Anyway how's everyone else nights going?

The Dating Odyssey: Jonathan

Eddie Munson/Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Jim Hopper/Jonathan Byers x fem!reader

1.6k word count

fluff, idiot reader, reader who can't say no, choose your own adventure-ish

Part 1 / Steves Ending / Eddies Ending / Jims Ending / Billy's Ending

Authors note: And so we reach the final part. I hope you have all enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you waited for Jonathan. He called you a few days after your date his shyness amplified over the phone. "Would you like to go on another date? I'd love to, uh, capture you, I mean, take your picture, in different settings."

It was endearingly awkward, and you couldn't help but agree. Here he was, looking even more nervous than on your first date, clutching an old camera with a worn leather strap. "Hi," he mumbled, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"Hey, Jonathan," You smiled. "Ready to unleash your inner paparazzo?"

He chuckled, a dry, self-deprecating sound. "Something like that. But more... artistic, I hope."

You started at a nearby park. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, dappling the path with golden light. Jonathan fumbled a bit, muttering under his breath about focus and aperture, but when he finally looked up, his eyes held a quiet intensity. "There," he said, a shy smile gracing his lips. "You look... radiant."

There was something magical about seeing yourself through his lens. In the photos, the park wasn't just a park anymore; it was a scene from a dream, and you, the unexpected protagonist.

Next, you wandered through a quirky antique store. Jonathan captured you amidst dusty gramophones and chipped porcelain dolls, a playful glint in your eyes. He even snapped a candid shot of you trying on a feather boa, the laughter lines around your eyes crinkling joyously.

His shyness seemed to melt away with each click of the shutter. He talked about his passion for photography, the way light and shadow could tell a story, the fleeting beauty he found in the everyday. With the last of the photos taken Jonathan had spoken off heading home to his home-made photo processing lab to develop the photos. It didn’t take much pressing on your end to convince him to take you with him to see the photos develop. The drive out to his house was extremely quiet. Jonathan spared a few awkward glances to you during the drive, it was evident by the look on his face that he was nervous about having someone watch him develop his photographs.

The silence in the dimly lit photo lab was broken only by the sound of music playing in the background. Jonathan, his brow furrowed in concentration, meticulously hung the film canisters from a rack, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he caught you watching.

"You sure about this?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible above the music.

"Positive," You grinned, leaning against the counter. "I can't wait to see how they turned out."

He offered a shy smile back. "Me neither, to be honest. It's one thing taking the pictures, another entirely seeing them come to life."

The photo lab was a far cry from the bustling coffee shops and sun-drenched parks where your dates usually unfolded. But here, with the pungent smell of chemicals hanging in the air, a different kind of intimacy blossomed. You were sharing a secret, a peek into the process behind the magic of capturing a moment.

Jonathan, usually so reserved, transformed into a focused maestro. He explained the steps in hushed tones, a gentle pride radiating from him as he spoke about the dance of light and dark on the film. He described the anticipation of waiting for the image to appear in the developer bath, a baptism into reality for the fleeting moments he'd captured.

As the minutes ticked by, you watched in fascination. The nervous fumbling you'd witnessed the first time he held his camera had vanished, replaced by a quiet confidence. He moved with an almost ritualistic grace, his movements practiced yet imbued with a reverence for the process.

Finally, the first print emerged from the fixer bath, dripping with a clear, pearlescent sheen. Jonathan held it up to the dim light, his breath catching in his throat.

"There you are," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

It was the picture from the park, the one bathed in golden sunlight. But seeing it here, fresh from the developer, held a different kind of magic. The light seemed to glow from within, your smile radiating a newfound serenity.

He met your eyes, a shy smile gracing his lips. "Not bad, huh?"

"It's incredible," You breathed, reaching out to touch the wet paper. "It's like seeing myself through your eyes."

The next few minutes became a blur of anticipation and awe. Each photograph emerged from the chemical bath, a story revealed in silver and light. The playful chaos of the antique store, the quiet intimacy of the bookstore, the city skyline transformed into a canvas of dreams under the starlit night – each image brought back a flood of memories, enhanced by Jonathan's unique perspective.

When the last print emerged, shimmering wet in the dim light, a comfortable silence settled between you. You stood there for a moment, surrounded by the hum of music and the faint scent of chemicals, a connection forged in the shared experience of giving birth to these memories.

Finally, Jonathan turned to you, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity. "So," he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "What do you think?"

You smiled, your heart brimming with a warmth that had nothing to do with the chemical baths. "I think," You said, stepping closer, "we have a lot more stories to tell together."

Stepping out of the photo lab, the crisp night air felt like a welcome slap after the chemical haze inside. The streetlights cast a warm glow on Jonathan's face, his smile brighter than any neon sign. "Ready?" he asked, holding out the manila envelope filled with your memories.

You nodded, taking the envelope from him. Its weight felt significant now, a tangible record of the day. A day you didn’t want to end. You walked in comfortable silence to his car, a quiet understanding hanging between you. The drive to your apartment was filled with stolen glances. Each time your glances met, a shy smile would bloom on his face, mirrored by yours.

The radio played a slow ballad, the melody weaving itself into the comfortable silence. Jonathan seemed lost in his thoughts, a contemplative smile playing on his lips. You couldn't help but take a closer look at him in the soft glow of the dashboard lights. He looked different somehow – more confident, perhaps, with a spark of pride in his eyes.

Suddenly, he caught you staring. A blush crept up his neck as he quickly looked away, muttering something about taking a wrong turn. You let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking the tense silence.

"It's okay," You teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "I like this detour."

He chuckled, then finally stopped at a red light, turning to face you. "Me too," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper.

His eyes held a depth you hadn't seen before, an unspoken question lurking beneath the surface. You felt your cheeks burning, a delicious mix of anticipation and nerves swirling in your stomach. Leaning forward, you brushed a stray strand of hair off his forehead.

"You're amazing," You whispered, surprising even yourself with the boldness.

He stared at you for a moment, his gaze so intense it stole your breath away. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, a smile that spoke volumes more than any words could.

The light turned green, and Jonathan pulled back into traffic. But the quiet magic of the moment lingered. You talked in snippets, about the pictures, about your shared dreams, about anything and everything that came to mind. Yet, the silences felt comfortable, filled with a new understanding that transcended words.

Finally, you pulled up in front of your apartment building. The engine hummed softly, neither of you wanting the night to end. He looked at you, his eyes filled with a question he didn't dare voice.

You reached over, your fingers brushing against his as you turned off the radio. "Would you like to see the pictures again?" you asked, offering the envelope.

A grin spread across his face, chasing away the nervousness. "I thought you'd never ask."

We walked up to your apartment, hand in hand, the weight of the envelope feeling lighter now, replaced by the warmth of connection. Stepping inside, you flicked on the lights, casting the room in a soft glow. He pulled out the pictures, and you spent the next hour reliving your adventure through Jonathan's lens. The pictures weren't just photographs anymore; they were keys that unlocked a treasure trove of shared memories, each one etched not just on film, but on your hearts.

As you sat staring at the photographs in the comfort of your apartment, he confessed, "You inspire me, you know? You make me see the world differently."

"Your greatest muse, huh?" You teased, remembering the phone call.

His blush deepened. "Well," he stammered, "maybe it's a bit too soon to say that, but..." he trailed off, then took a deep breath. "There's something about you. You light up a room, even with just a smile."

Walking him back to his car, the weight of his camera a comforting reminder of the afternoon, you realized it wasn't just him who'd been inspired. Jonathan, with his quiet passion and shy observations, had opened your eyes to the beauty in the ordinary.

As you reached his car, he handed me a small, worn print – one from our first date of you trying to take a photo of a lone flower. "For your inspiration," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took the picture, the warmth of a blush echoing in your cheeks. "Thank you, Jonathan," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "You're my muse too." It felt true. In his own unique way, Jonathan had shown you the beauty of being seen, truly seen, and you couldn't wait to see where this shy photographer and his camera would take you next.

i'm having so much fun

I literally took a whole University Unit on fandom, about Rice, The X-Files and Star Wars fiascos and now how some companies will take peoples fanart and use it has free advertising for the movie/TV show/game or whatever else. When I first started making fan content I would only share it with my close friends. I had a folder I carried everywhere with my physically copies of fanart and fanfics in it. I never kept any digit copies of any of it. I had 12 stories, 3 poems and 7 drawings in my folder the day my school principle destroyed all of them. A fellow student took my folder and handed it to a teacher saying I had brought 'porn' to school. It was an X-Files fanfic and the porn was my badly described take on the scene where Moulder is directed to the warehouse of human clones or human/alien hybrids I don't quite remember. My principle gave me a huge lecture about how I was infringing on copyright and that because I printed the story off at school I had opened them up to a lawsuit too. I started a new folder that I kept hidden in a hole behind my bed. It took me like 5 years to even considering sharing my work again after that and even then I use to put massive disclaimers on everything.

So I’m on AO3 and I see a lot of people who put “I do not own [insert fandom here]” before their story.

Like, I came on this site to read FAN fiction. This is a FAN fiction site. I’m fully aware that you don’t own the fandom or the characters. That’s why it’s called FAN FICTION.

no one asked for this specifically but i’m in another mood so

18+

The sound of skin on skin filled the room, dimly lit by just one bedside lamp, everything cast in a tangerine flow. You were fisting the bedsheets, elbows on the mattress, bent over, hips hitched high, back arched real pretty.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Eddie praised. “Gonna fuck this bad mood right out of you, huh?” His hand pressed into the dip in your back as he kept up those slow thrust that he liked to tease you with, pushing your body down lower still, barely managing to keep yourself up. “You’re doin’ so good.”

You whined, happy at his words, happier with the attention. You were almost going slack, the pleasure too much but you knew what would happen if you let yourself fall. You’d been bratty all day, pushing buttons, toeing the line and the least you could do now was keep yourself in the position Eddie had told you to get into.

“Baby,” you cried out, pleading, needing Eddie to go faster. “C’mon, please.”

“Oh listen to her,” another voice said, breathing out a soft laugh. “All sweet and polite now, isn’t she?”

Eddie just chuckled, palming at your hips before he gave them an appreciative squeeze, sliding his cock back into you inch by inch. You could feel him throbbing, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself into you hard and fast, but he wasn’t allowed to.

Not yet.

Steve moved to the bottom of the bed, kneeling on the floor so he was level with your face. He was pouting, shirt unbuttoned with his sleeved rolled up, dress pants still on ‘cause you’d been a bitch the minute he’d gotten home from work. He cupped one side your face with a big hand, warm and calloused.

“Found your manners, have you?” He teased, all smiles now that you were speechless. His gaze roamed over your body, the way the other boy held you up and pinned you down all at once. “Is Eddie making you feel good?”

You nodded furiously, lips parting in a moan when Eddie rolled his hips, grinding against the plush of your ass. “So good,” you agreed. “Really wanna come, Steve, please.”

Steve tutted, soft and pouty and still watch you closely, loving the way your lashes would flutter shut, how he could see the way you swallowed thickly to hold back your cries. Your eyes were turning glassy, a tell tale sign.

“Think you deserve it?” He asked and Eddie slowed right back down again, keeping his cock seated inside you as Steve rubbed a thumb over your cheek, your bottom lip.

You whimpered, pouting. Steve tutted again, like he wasn’t the one in charge of what was happening. “I know, I know honey, we’re just awful, huh?”

You didn’t answer, knowing that you couldn’t agree when you’d been a downright horror to both boys after a bad day at work. It hadn’t been their faults, they just happened to be there when everything kicked off. It didn’t take long for you to be pushed onto the bed.

“It’s so good though, right?” Steve was still talking in that maddeningly soft way, tone dripping with sticky sweetness, complete adoration even when he swept his thumb over your parted lips and into your mouth. He rubbed the pad of it over your tongue and waited for you to suck. He kissed at your cheek, your nose, your jaw when you did. “Show me what that mouth does and I’ll let Eddie make you come, honey.”

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited) Part 2

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

4.5k word count

Summary After completely ignoring Deans warning you find yourself reunited with the Winchesters after a perplexing case brings them back down under.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

Warnings mention and description of death

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

It's been a year since I met the Winchesters. I tried to return to my old life, but the knowledge that there were creatures out there that could kill me at any moment made it impossible to concentrate. So, I decided to hit the road. I packed my most important belongings into my car and left everything else at my mom's. I dropped out of university and began searching for other hunters. The Winchesters didn’t leave me a how-to guide on hunting monsters, so I had to figure it out on my own. I traveled far and wide, leaving messages for hunters wherever I could—monster books in libraries, notice boards, online chat rooms, you name it. After two months of relentless searching, I was finally contacted by a guy named Johnny. Johnny owned a roadhouse near Broken Hill, one of the few hubs for hunters. He gave me a list of known hunters' hubs, a list of essential tools, and a job to get me started. "An easy find and burn," he said. He advised me to call him for jobs for now and assured me that I would gradually learn how to find my own hunts. And that's how I ended up on the job I'm working today.

I had driven through the night to get back to Sydney, to the suburb of Blacktown where my story began. It was the first time I'd been back since everything that happened with the boys. This time, a similar case had brought me back: a ghost causing accidents at the local pool, leading to 11 deaths so far. Something needed to be done soon. The latest incident occurred just a week before. A paraplegic kid had seemingly stood up from her wheelchair, climbed onto a diving board, and dove headfirst onto the cement below. The ghost was escalating its attacks, putting this case at the top of my list. Before tackling the case, though, I needed to rest. I decided to book into a hotel, take a hot shower, eat, and sleep. I had only enough money for one night, so I found a cheap hotel close to the pool with vacancies and pulled in. As I parked and hopped out of my car, a certain vehicle caught my eye. Everything else was quickly forgotten as I ran to the room the car was parked in front of. I stopped to catch my breath before knocking on the door.

"Well, well, look who we have here," Dean said, crossing his arms with a smirk as he opened the door.

"Hey, Dean," I smiled.

"Y/N, is that you?" Sam asked, appearing behind Dean.

"In the flesh," I replied. "What brings you two back to town?"

"We're working this case," Dean explained. "A friend of ours called after getting a tip from a hunter here—some ghost killing a bunch of people at a pool."

"What a coincidence. I'm working that case too. It's been on my radar for the last three months, but it's really ramped up in the last month, so I figured I should probably get my ass back here and take care of it."

"I thought I told you to stay away from all this," Dean suddenly snapped, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"I tried, Dean. I really did. But I couldn't shake it. I was second-guessing everything and everyone, and I felt like I needed to do this to feel safe," I said, recoiling at his words.

"I told you there were other people like us doing this job so you could be safe. Trust me, this isn't the life you want."

"You packed up and went back to the States. You left me here where there are barely any hunters. What did you expect me to do?" I snapped back.

"I expected you to listen to me!" Dean yelled, jabbing a finger toward the ground.

I flinched away from Dean, and he immediately noticed. The regret on his face was clear. He tried reaching out to touch my arm, but I moved back. Sighing, he stepped aside, allowing me into the room. Sam motioned for me to come over to the sole table where he was working on his laptop. Dean, meanwhile, moved to sit on his bed on the opposite side of the room. Sam ran me through everything they had found so far. He mentioned a friend of theirs named Bobby, who had been contacted by a local hunter overwhelmed by the case. It was something I had noticed too, and it had only motivated me more to become a hunter. Over the past year, I had been taking on the harder cases that other hunters struggled with. I had made contacts at all the hunters’ roadhouses in Australia and had hardly had a day to myself since. I told Sam about Johnny, a name he instantly recognized. Apparently, Johnny had been the one to call Bobby, requesting the boys' help after many other hunters had come up short.

"What have you found so far?" I asked Sam.

"Well, the earliest accident recorded at the pool was two months after it opened," Sam replied.

"I found that too during my initial research. She was running, slipped on the wet floor, and got impaled on a sign pole. Not a nice way to go, but it doesn't seem like something to create a vengeful spirit," I said.

"My thoughts exactly," Sam sighed. "But I can't find anything about the place being built on a burial ground or sacred site or anything."

"So, what you're saying is there's no reason for these deaths to be ramping up at this joint?" Dean finally joined the conversation.

"Well, none we can find," I said. "This is why I've avoided the case for so long. Every time I've looked into it, I haven't been able to find a reason. Nothing I know of could be causing this, nothing Johnny knows of could be causing this. Maybe Bobby might know something?"

"I'll call him," Sam sighed.

Sam grabbed his phone and left the room. I looked at Dean in confusion. We were working this case together, so why would Sam leave? Dean mumbled something about Sam thinking best when he was walking around. I just shrugged and stayed at the table, waiting for Sam to come back. Dean and I fell into an uncomfortable silence. I knew he wasn't happy with me being here and giving everything up to become a hunter, but I didn’t see any other choice. I understood the dangers; I knew a hunter's life was often short. But if it meant making a difference while I was still here, then so be it. Dean needed to understand this.

"Dean..."

"Save it. I know I won't be able to change your mind, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you leave my side," Dean said, looking over at me. "I wanted to save you from this life. I wanted you to walk away and never look back. I don't want you to end up broken like me."

"It's not like I have anything to lose. My father abandoned me, my mother and I barely talk, and I don’t exactly have any other family. Just friends, and as far as they know, I came into a small fortune and I'm off traveling the world," I sighed.

"Sounds like every hunter origin story I've heard before," Dean chuckled coldly.

"Why? What's your story?" I asked.

"Mum died, Dad abandoned us, then he died. I'm one of the lucky ones, though, because I got Sammy. And I guess now I have your dumbass to look out for too," Dean smiled at me.

"You make that sound like a bad thing," I laughed.

"Oh, it is. You're a pain in my ass," Dean laughed too.

"Who, me? Nah, I'm delightful."

Sam walked back into the room, greeted by the sight of Dean and me laughing our asses off, a stark contrast to how he had left us. He looked between us before awkwardly starting to explain that Bobby would investigate the situation, contact some other hunters in the area, and call Sam back if he found anything. Until then, Dean decided it would be best if we grabbed some food and called it a night. Dean left Sam and me to clean up the table while he went to get what he called the world’s smallest McDonald’s burgers. Sam and I just shook our heads at him and continued to tidy up. We talked about what the guys had been up to since they were last here and everything I had done. Sam was quite impressed at how quickly I had learned to spot signs of the supernatural and my ability to research and handle problems. It turned out they had heard from Bobby about a badass new hunter on the scene out here, but they had no clue it was me. It didn’t take us long to clean off the table, and soon Dean returned with the food. He dumped the bags on the table and began tossing burgers at each of us, cursing when he reached for the fries and found they had all fallen out in the bag. Sam and I shook our heads at Dean and started on our burgers while he fixed the fries. After we had eaten, we all agreed to get some sleep while waiting for Bobby to get back to us. Sam went off to shower first while Dean kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed. I, on the other hand, moved toward the door, planning to book my room for the night.

"Where are you staying?" Dean suddenly asked, stopping me in my tracks.

"Going to book a room for tonight, then probably sleep in my car until this is over. Why?" I turned back towards Dean.

"You can't be serious."

"Well, normally I'd loo or a free campground, but we're in the middle of a city. Luckily, I recently found this really cool inflatable bed thing. You move the seats forward, put it in the back seat, and it acts like a real bed. It's actually pretty comfortable," I rambled.

"Like hell you're sleeping in your car. Take my bed, and I'll take the couch," Dean grumbled, getting up from his bed. "Besides, it saves you the money you'd spend on a room for a single night."

"Dean, I can't kick you to the lounge again," I sighed.

"Nonsense. Hunters need a safe place to sleep."

"We don’t exactly get paid, Dean. I do odd jobs in the towns I’m in between or sometimes even during hunts, just to get enough to eat and to put fuel in my car. I can’t afford a hotel room."

"And that’s where credit card scams come in," Dean smirked.

"How? I mean, you’d need fake IDs and birth certificates, not to mention the limits. Eventually, they’d cut the card off."

"Bobby hooks us up with a whole host of fake IDs—cops, FBI, CIA, you name it. The trick with credit cards is to get the card with the highest limit. For instance, a card with a $10,000 limit before repayments are needed. Use it for the case, and before you get out of dodge, withdraw the remaining amount. That way, when they come looking for Mr. Hector Rodriguez, it looks like he never left town."

"Jesus, Dean, that’s insane."

"That’s the life," Dean shrugged, making himself comfy on the lounge.

I took off my shoes and made myself comfortable on the bed while waiting for Sam to finish with the shower. I had planned to use the bathroom to change, but I must have been more tired than I realized because I nodded off. I woke up the next morning to an empty room and noticed that Dean’s Impala was gone too. They must have heard back from Bobby and headed off to chase a lead. It kind of sucked that they didn’t wake me up first, but there was nothing I could do about it now. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, mostly for background noise, before heading to my car to grab a change of clothes. With clothes in hand, I went to the bathroom for a shower. I always found that the shower was the best place to organize my day. I turned the water on, cranking up the heat until it was almost unbearable. As the shower screen fogged up, I began to write out my plan for the day. First, I needed to find some breakfast, then I needed to locate the guys. The problem was, I didn’t have either of their numbers and wasn’t keen on driving aimlessly around the city to find them. After washing up, I begrudgingly turned off the water. As I reached for a towel, I was horrified to realize there were only two towels in the bathroom. I rummaged through the room but found no additional towels. I returned to the bathroom, eyeing the two towels on the rack. At this point, I was almost dry, so I grabbed the obviously unused towel and quickly dried myself off, hanging the towel back as neatly as possible when I was done. Once I was dressed and dry, I grabbed my phone and keys before heading out to my car. I was honestly surprised that Dean had managed to pick out which car was his and which was mine. The engine roared to life as I settled into the driver's seat. I drove to McDonald's to grab a breakfast deal. After I got my food, I figured I might as well continue investigating the case on my own. As I waited in the drive-through, I pulled out my phone to continue my research. It was then that I noticed a text message from Dean, which caught me off guard since I hadn’t saved his number.

Hey sleeping beauty, when you get this, give me a call. If I don’t answer, I put Sammy’s number in your phone too.

I chuckled to myself before dialing the number. After a few rings, Dean picked up.

"Hey, enjoy your sleep?" Dean laughed.

"It was great, thank you. Your bed is very comfy."

"At least someone’s enjoying my bed," Dean chuckled.

"Yeah, you should really try it sometime. It's so comfy and warm, it would put you straight to sleep," I taunted.

"Pfft, who needs an awesome bed when they have a perfect lounge to sleep on?"

"Where are you anyway?" I laughed on the phone.

"About to head to the pool," Dean sighed. "We’ve exhausted the library. They have nothing on the pool that we didn’t already know, so the only place left is the pool."

"Have fun with that. I’m just getting breakfast. Oh, and here it comes!" I squealed, winding down the window.

"Yeah, yeah, stuff your face then get your ass over here," Dean chuckled, hanging up.

I took my food with a thank you before pulling into the parking lot. After parking my car, I started on my breakfast. It didn’t take me long to finish, and I tossed my rubbish into a nearby bin before heading to the pool. When I arrived, I parked towards the back of the lot and went inside. It annoyed me more than it should have that I had to pay to enter the pool, even though I had no intention of swimming. It felt weird paying just to watch, but being on my own, it seemed the only option. I walked down the ramp into the main pool area, which featured a wave pool, a splash pool, and two 25-meter pools. It wasn’t overly busy, so it didn’t take more than a quick glance to spot Sam and Dean. It also helped that they were the only people in the building in suits. They were standing near the wave pool controls, talking to a lifeguard. As I started making my way towards them, I was suddenly halted by the sound of a giggle. It was a giggle I would recognize anywhere, sending an ice-cold shiver down my spine. I almost turned around and fled back to my car, intending to wait for Sam and Dean to finish. The only thing that stopped me was Dean spotting me and giving me a wink, which caused the lifeguard to look over her shoulder towards me. I squared my shoulders, held my head high, and walked over to them. Upon reaching them, however, my mouth started spilling out words before my brain could catch up.

"Hey, babe," I said, leaning against Dean's side. "I thought I’d come for a swim while you take care of things, but I don’t have any swimwear." I winced inwardly at the cringe-worthy line.

"Oh, hi Rachel! Haven’t seen you since graduation. Still lifeguarding, I see?" I greeted, trying to mask my awkwardness.

"Y/N, yes, I am. It pays quite well. How did you end up with such a handsome man?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms and giving me a disapproving look.

"Well, as you probably heard, I’ve been traveling the world, and during a trip through America, I found this handsome man," I said, smiling up at Dean.

"Lucky you," Rachel scoffed.

"Yeah, lucky me," I replied, still smiling at Dean.

"Anyway, baby, here’s my card. Go get yourself some swimwear and have a good time," Dean said, handing me a card.

"Thank you," I said, taking the card and giving Dean a quick peck on the cheek before darting off.

As I was leaving, I heard Dean say, "Now, if you don’t mind, we’d like to ask all the staff about the incident."

I went to the main counter and bought a swimsuit—one of the things I had left behind when I packed up and left, thinking I’d never use it again. With the swimsuit in hand, I headed back to find Sam and Dean to return Dean's card, thank him for his help, and apologize for putting him on the spot. As I wandered back into the main pool area, I quickly spotted Dean standing at the edge of the splash pool, talking to a lifeguard. Just as I was about to approach him, a hand suddenly came down on my shoulder. I jumped and spun around, ready to punch whoever had touched me.

"Wow, easy there," Sam chuckled.

"Sam, why would you do that?" I slapped him on the chest.

"I didn’t mean to scare you. Just figured I should fill you in before you blow our cover story any further."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I muttered, dropping my head.

"Oh, it’s fine. No harm done," Sam smiled. "Anyway, we were researching the deaths this morning, and one of the victims was a young girl on holiday from America. So Dean and I decided to come in and ask some questions, posing as representatives from the American Embassy investigating on behalf of the parents."

"That’s actually pretty smart. I’ll go change into these swimmers and stay out of your way. Also, can you give Dean back his card?" I handed it to Sam. "I feel kinda bad for taking it."

"Well, it’s not our money anyway, so nothing to feel bad about," Sam smirked.

I laughed at Sam's comment and walked away with a wave towards the female changing room. Only two other people were in the changing room when I walked in—two young girls, probably no older than 18. It seemed they had just finished their swim and were getting ready to shower and change. I ducked into an empty changing booth on the opposite side of the room from them. They were giggling and whispering between themselves as I walked by. If only they knew what was happening here, what was happening in the world. I quickly slipped into the swimsuit—no easy feat when both you and the suit are as dry as the Sahara Desert. Just as I bundled my clothes in my arms and was about to open the door, the room was suddenly filled with a blood-curdling scream. I dropped my clothes and threw open the door. One of the girls from earlier was now pressed up against the wall on the opposite side of the room, while the other lay motionless on the floor.

I ran over to the girl on the floor and dropped down by her side, assessing her for any signs of life. She was gone; her neck was clearly broken. Standing up, I walked over to the other girl as more people began pushing their way into the bathroom. Sam and Dean were among them. Seeing the scene, they began pushing people back and asking for someone to call emergency services. I took the other girl into my arms, shielding her face from the horrific sight and encouraging her to look away. I nodded to Sam and Dean, knowing they would need to leave the building quickly but quietly while I stayed behind to answer questions. I tried to ask the girl what had happened, but all I could get was the word "why," spoken in a whisper between sobs. I just held her, rubbing circles into her back while waiting for help to arrive.

It felt like forever, but it was probably no more than 15 minutes before the police and ambulance arrived. The police stood back, allowing the paramedics to do their work. Once the paramedics confirmed there was nothing they could do for the girl on the floor, they turned their attention to her friend. They checked her over and then escorted her to a waiting ambulance. The police followed, making sure I stayed put in the room. Returning to where I had discarded my clothes, I gathered them up and sat on the bench running the length of the room. Holding my clothes to my chest, I suddenly felt naked in the now-empty room. It wasn’t the first time I had seen a dead body, and living the life I chose, I knew it wouldn’t be the last. But that didn’t make it any less jarring. The absolute stillness of her body, the lack of the normal rise and fall of her chest, the absence of any movement, the fading pink hue of her skin—it was all so stark, so sudden. I closed my eyes and prayed she went quickly.

The quiet of the room was soon broken by the arrival of crime scene techs and coroners. They completely ignored my presence and went about their tasks, examining the deceased girl and the room. The only interaction I had was with a woman who came over and asked for my clothes. Confused, I asked why, since they hadn't been near the girl. She insisted it was needed just in case and that they would get them back to me as soon as possible. Reluctantly, I handed over my clothes and filled out the paperwork she provided. With no other address to use, I gave her my mother's address for the return of my clothes.

I watched as the coroner bagged the girl's body and removed it from the room while the techs continued to take pictures and discuss their theories about what had happened. Eventually, after what must have been 30 minutes, the police returned to the room to speak with me. They asked a flurry of questions that blurred together: Did you know the victim? No. Did you see what happened? No. Do you know Samantha? Was that the other girl? No. What were you doing here? Changing to swim. On and on, question after question. They questioned me for over an hour. It felt like a waste of their time, as I had nothing to offer—they were asking a witness who hadn’t witnessed anything. Before they let me go, I asked what Samantha had said about the incident. They gave me the usual response: they couldn’t divulge much but assured me that the investigation would reveal the truth.

I thanked the officers and left the room. I fell into a sort of autopilot. Before I knew it, I was out of the pool, in my car, and back at the hotel, with no recollection of the drive. I parked next to Dean’s Impala. As soon as I shut off the engine, I began to shake uncontrollably. I took a few shaky breaths, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I climbed out of the car and walked to the room door, knocking and waiting for someone to answer. When the door finally opened, it was Dean standing there.

“They took my clothes,” was all I managed to say before the weight of the day hit me. In the year I had been working cases, I had never seen a dead body or witnessed someone die. I had only read about it, keeping a safe distance from the true horrors. The only dead body I had seen before this was my grandmother’s, and I had hoped she would be the only person I would have to see die in my lifetime. Today’s events had dredged up all those memories and emotions I had tried so hard to bury.

As I broke down, Dean pulled me into the room and shut the door. He wrapped his arms around me, offering a safe, warm refuge where I could finally let my emotions flow.

The Dating Odyssey: Steve

Eddie Munson/Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Jim Hopper/Jonathan Byers x fem!reader

2.8k word count

fluff, idiot reader, reader who can't say no, choose your own adventure-ish

Part 1 / Eddie's Ending / Jim's Ending / Billy's Ending / Jonathan's Ending

 Sleep that night was a stranger to you. You tossed and turned nodding off only to be jerked back awake by the consequences of your actions. Before long the first light of day was breaking through your window. You decided to abandon sleep and instead start getting ready for work. You showered, dressed and collected the large pile of assignments before loading them into your car and driving to the school. You made it through the day by drinking copious amounts of coffee and plastering on the best fake smile you could manage. Making it home that night you abandoned all thoughts of food and went straight to bed. Yet once again in your quite apartment you were meet with the thoughts of the decision looming over you. Maybe the best solution was to leave Hawkins. Move somewhere new and try again after all isn’t that why you moved here in the first place, for a fresh start. You quickly abandoned that idea, you didn’t have the money and it was hard enough landing the teaching job in Hawkins let alone looking elsewhere.

And so you went another night with very little sleep. Your week went by at a snail’s pace. You thought you were doing a good job hiding your inner turmoil but apparently one particular student had noticed something was a miss with you and decided he needed to check in.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N I was just wondering if your okay you seem very distracted this week, I mean normally you laugh at all my jokes but you haven’t even laughed at one, I’ll admit some weren’t that funny, but I thought a few were pretty good” Dustin rambled standing in the doorway of your classroom

“I’m fine Dustin just some adult drama you don’t need to worry about” You smiled at the curly haired boy

“Is it to do with Steve?” Dustin pushed “Cause his like my best friend I can talk to him if you like”

“No it’s not Steve, but thank you Dustin”

“Well the offers there, see you next week Miss” Dustin smiled walking away

“See you next week” You smiled

You finished packing up your desk glad it was Friday and walk out to your car. In the parking lot you found Dustin, Lucas, Will and Mike goofing around with Eddie who looked like he was picking the boys up from school probably to go play Dungeons and Dragons. You wanted to hurry to your car to avoid being spotted by him. But you stared in the boys direction just a little too long. Eddie looked up from loading the boys into the back of his van just long enough to see you watching. He said something to the boys that you were too far away to hear before jogging over to you. You froze in place, wanting to run but your feet not allowing you to.

“Hi” Eddie smiled coming to a stop in front of you

“Hi Eddie” You gave a small smile back

“Uh oh someones not happy, kids give you hell?” Eddie chuckled

“Eddie” You looked to the ground “I…”

“Y/n whats the matter?” Eddie became serious

“I’m so sorry” You whispered

“What was that?” Eddie asked placing a hand on your elbow “I didn’t quite catch that”

“I’m sorry” You looked up at him

“Sorry? For what?” Eddies face was filled with worry and concern

“Last weekend…I loved our date I really did but I also went on a few other dates and now I don’t know what to do, I messed up and I don’t know what I’m suppose to do, I’m so sorry Eddie” You rambled a few tears escaping to run down your face

“Jesus H. Christ” Eddie turned away from you running a hand through his hair “How many other dates?” Eddie asked still facing away from you eyes closed

“4”

“4!” Eddie shouted turning to face you as he did “4 fucking dates and you didn’t think to at least have the decency to tell me”

“I wanted to but I was scared of this” You said

“Look I’m sorry” Eddie tried to calm down “I just thought a girl finally might give Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson a chance, I guess not”

Eddie stormed off back to his van while you stood in the parking lot and sobbed. You really had fucked up. You needed someone to comfort you right in that moment but at the same time you didn’t really know anyone here. You hoped into your car and decided to go find the one person you had been honest with right from the start. You drove the busy after school streets all the way to Family Video knowing today being Friday that Steve would be working. You walked in the doors looking immediately to the counter for Steve. But he wasn’t there. You began looking down the aisles hoping Steve was just out the back and would be back out soon. A woman you knew to be Robin soon came from out the back having heard the door chime.

“If your looking for Steve his not here” Robin walked over placing a few DVDs on the shelf.

“Is he home sick?” You asked

“I honestly have no clue. Mr Perfect called to take the week off for family reasons” Robin scoffed “Like we all don’t know his parents are rarely ever home and his never mentioned any other family”

“Oh okay well thank you Robin I guess I’ll be going” You managed a smile heading for the door

“If you see the dingus tell him he owes me for working all his shifts” Robin said

“I will” you chuckled

You made your way back to your car and began driving mindlessly around town. You had no clue what to do, no idea where to go. A small piece of you wanted to drive to Steves but you didn’t want to be a burden on him. You drove and debated with yourself on if you should go to Steves or not. It would seem that your unconscious mind made that decision for you because before you could process where you were driving you found yourself in front of Steves. You would have kept driving if it wasn’t for the fact that Steve was sitting on the front step having a smoke. He stood up and waved at you. You silently cursed as you pulled up in front of Steves house. You braced yourself and climbed out of your car and walked towards Steve. At some point between your car and Steve you had begun to shake. By the time you got to Steve you were completely sobbing. Steve pulled you into his arms, gently shushing you and rubbing small circles into your back.

You stayed like that for quite a while before you were able to compose yourself enough to move away from Steve. He guided you into his house, leading you to his lounge room where he had you sit on the lounge while he fetched you something to drink. Part of him was glad you had come to him, yet part of him was scared you where only here to tell him you had picked someone else over him. He came back into the lounge room carrying a glass of water which he handed off to you. Steve sat silently by your side as you sipped at your glass of water waiting for you to speak when you were ready.

“I think I really fucked up” You said after a short but comfortable silence

“Well you don’t say” Steve gave a small smile “What happened?”

“I told Eddie everything” You sighed

“Only Eddie?” Steve questioned

“Yep and given how he reacted I’m not sure I could tell anyone else”

“How did he reacted?” Steve asked

“He snapped at me, he screamed at me, he was very angry”

“Honestly knowing Eddie I’m not at all surprised that that’s how he choose to act”

“What am I suppose to do Steve?” You asked

“I can’t answer that I’m afraid, it’s your choice” Steve sighed running a hand through his hair

“I can’t make a choice Steve, I don’t know even know what I want but it certainly wasn’t this”

You began to sob, dropping your head into your hands. Steve pulled you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest while he rested his chin gently on top of your head. He began to rock the both of you slowly. He truly felt bad for you but at the same time he wanted to be selfish and tell you not to worry about the others and just choose him. But he knew he couldn’t do that, it wasn’t his choice to make. During Steve’s inner turmoil he missed the slowing and evening out of your breathing and the occasional hiccups you made. It wasn’t until he went to ask you if you wanted him to cook you both some dinner that he realised you had fallen asleep. The stress and panic had finally worn you down and you had passed out in the safety of Steves arms. Not wanting to wake you Steve pulled you onto his lap and stood up. He carried you upstairs to his room and place you on his bed. As he went to stand up you clung to his shirt as if he was your life line, your safety net to the situation you found yourself in. Steve tried several times albeit not very hard to get away from you. When he realised he wasn’t getting away from you he moved you further across his bed before joining you. He made a silent prayer to whatever possessed him to wear sweatpants instead of his normal tight jeans before pulling you close to him and falling asleep himself.

The next morning you woke up when sunlight filtered though a nearby window hitting you in your face. You blinked taking in the plaid walls and matching plaid curtains. You started to internally panic, how had you ended up in Steves bed? If you fell asleep why didn’t he just wake you? Better yet why was Steve holding you in his arms. You tried to keep your breathing calm as you attempted to free yourself from Steves arms. You placed a hand on Steves wrist that was currently draped over your waist and tried to slowly lift his arm up. You managed to successfully move his arm from your waist but as you went to move his arm to the bed you lost your grip. Steves arm came down on the bed with a thump startling the man awake. He groaned and you froze. Steve brought his arm up to his face and rubbed his eyes before looking at you. He gave you a half awake smile. In that moment something happened you weren’t quite expecting. Your heart started to race and you couldn’t help but smiled back.

“Morning” Steve yawned

“Good morning, uh, why am I in your bed?”

“Well I didn’t want to wake you up or risk you trying to drive home with how upset you were” Steve shrugged

“Okay and why are you in your bed with me?”

“That would be your fault” Steve smirked poking your nose “You refused to let me go so I had no choice but to stay, I was going to be a gentle man sleep on the floor again”

You started laughing at the absurdity of it all and pulled Steve’s blankets over your face. Steve quickly pulled the entire blanket away from you wrapping himself up like a burrito in the process. He gave you a big goofy grin from inside his burrito causing you to laugh even harder at the man.

“And this is for being the worlds worst blanket hog” Steve got out between his own laughter

Steve unwrapped himself before holding out a hand to you. You gladly accepted it. Steve pulled you from his bed and guided you down stairs to the kitchen where you took a seat at the kitchen island. Steve began running around the kitchen making you both a simple breakfast of bacon and eggs. He poured you a glass of orange juice which you took with a thank you. You sat in relative silence and watched the man work hard on making you both what your sure from previous experience would be an excellent breakfast. At one point Steve spilt some oil on the floor, waved it off and then almost immediately slipped on it. He landed with a thud directly on his butt. You couldn’t help but laugh at him even if he did seem a little mean. Steve quickly stood up and gave you the most over exaggerated look of betrayal. You tried to apologise between laughs but Steve just waved his arm around while saying he would never be able to forgive you. All in good fun of course no actual feelings where hurt. You found yourself deep in thought as Steve finished cooking the bacon and plating breakfast. Steve placed the plate of now ready bacon eggs in front of you. He took a seat beside you and began eating his breakfast. This seemed to bring you out of your head and cause you to start eating for your own food in response.

“So I feel like we need to talk about this situation” Steve said after taking a bite of a piece of bacon and swinging it around in the air

“Uh we’re two adults eating breakfast what is there to discuss?” You tried to avoid what you knew was coming “No y/n I mean this situation you’ve found yourself in” Steve sighed

“I really don’t know what to do” You sighed

“You can’t just avoid everyone forever”

“I’m not avoiding you”

“Y/n no that’s” Steve groaned in frustration

“What do you expected me to do Steve I screwed myself over is that what you want to hear?” You sighed

“You can say that again” Steve sighed “Look I can’t tell you what to do or who to choose and yes I know its hard and it would be easier if I made the decision for you but it doesn’t work that way I’m afraid”

 “Can I just have today and then I’ll make my decision tomorrow?” You asked

“Sure but I’m going to subject you to the worst romantic comedies I can find” Steve smirked moving to put his plate in the sink

After breakfast was finished the two of you moved to the lounge room where Steve quickly picked out Grease as the first of your movies. You settled down on the lounge while Steve went to get snacks and drinks. By the time he came back Danny and Sandy where in the middle of singing about summer love. You had left some space between you and Steve so as not to create any awkward situations. As the movie played on you could feel Steve looking at you. You turned to look at him and he quickly looked away. You shrugged it off and went back to the movie. Several more times during the movie you could feel Steves eyes on you but anytime you looked to him he would be back looking at the movie. Steve even started singing along to the movie at some point. Then as the final number started Steve stood to dance around.

“Come on y/n join me” Steve smiled grabbing your hand pulling you up from the lounge

Steve spun you around while you laughed your way through the song. As the song and the movie came to its close you found yourself in Steves arms smiling from ear to ear and trying to catch your breath. This was the man you wanted to began with. The guy you had basically been crushing on since you got to Hawkins. Would you really be happy with someone else knowing you never gave him the chance? You didn’t want him to be the one who got away.

“Steve I made my choice” You said

“Really? I thought you were going to wait until tomorrow?” He said getting nervous

“I was but I changed my mind” You shrugged

“Okay well what have you decided”

Rather then giving Steve an answer you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. He was shocked at first but soon settled into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Your arms wrapped around his neck. You smiled into the kiss. He stole your breath away just like the first time you’d kissed. You pulled apart for air resting your forehead against his. This felt right. Steve felt right.

“So this mean your choosing me?” Steve asked

“No doy” you giggled