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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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contains adult themes such as sex and sexuality, drug use, violence/assault, and misogyny; other things to be prepared for include complete irrelevance to the canon of stranger things, 17-year-old jason is trying to bang 15-year-old elle which makes me wanna peel my face off (but it's accurate to the film), reader is adopted and has some issues with her bio parents, mileven and lumax with background robin/vickie, and dad!hopper being MVP as per usual

note: significant sections of dialogue were lifted directly from the film, because why mess with perfection? I still took liberties with it, but for some of those really iconic scenes, please know that I'm not the reason those lines are so hilarious. credit for the scenes I transcribed go to Karen McCullah & Kirsten Smith, the screenwriters of 10 Things I Hate About You, who of course themselves based the work on The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare.

length: 20k words

for @get-your-fics midsummer night's writing challenge!! thank you for hosting rosie!

As his hand slid up her creamy white thighs, she could feel his huge member pulsating with desire…

Mike was looking down at his hands, interlaced in his lap, until Ms. Kelley shut her laptop. She smiled at him politely, and he smiled back. “So!” she began, checking his file again. “Michael—”

“Just Mike,” he nodded.

“Right. Well, we’re glad to have you at Hawkins High— it shouldn’t be too different from your last high school! You were well-behaved your freshman year, correct?”

“Uh, mostly… one or two tardies, that’s it,” he assured.

“Great! That means if you see me again, something’s gone horribly wrong.”

“Huh?”

“This is where kids with behavior problems get sent. Deviants, misfits, sluts, weirdos, creeps— they all have to come in and chat with me to get their shit straightened out.”

“Their what?” Mike repeated. “Are you— am I in the right office?”

“Not anymore, my novel isn’t gonna finish itself,” she announced. “So scoot.”

He didn’t, at first, too stunned.

“Scoot!”

He jumped up, trying to process what conversation just occurred, only to bump into someone as he backed out of the doorway. “Watch it!” a firm voice warned him, and he spun to look up in ill-suppressed terror at the guy he’d just collided with.

Mike was too intimidated to even choke out an apology; it’s hard to say where to start with what scared him most. Maybe the chains, maybe the leather jacket and denim vest, maybe the glare? Yeah, it was definitely the glare— that was what made Mike cower and dart away before it could get any worse.

“Ah, Mister Munson!” Ms. Kelley greeted with faux sweetness. “I see we're making our visits a weekly ritual.”

As her smile fell, Eddie’s grew. “Only so we can have these moments together,” he cooed, taking another step inside. “Should I hit the lights?”

“Oh, very clever, trailer park boy,” she offered flatly as she examined the incident report already in his file. “Apparently you exposed yourself in the cafeteria?”

“I was just joking around with my bandmates,” he promised. “It was a bratwurst.”

“Bratwurst,” she repeated, raising an eyebrow and glancing down— ostensibly at his handcuff belt buckle. “Aren’t we the optimist?”

A hint of Eddie’s resolve faded as she tilted her head and smiled at him cheerily again.

“Next time, keep your dangler in your Wranglers, mkay?” she suggested, chipper yet hollow.

Eddie shook his head as he left, leaving Ms. Kelley to return to her desk and re-open her computer. Examining her screen, she erased one word and replaced it.

…she could feel his huge bratwurst pulsating with desire…

“Hey! Mike, right?”

Mike turned, seeing another sophomore standing in front of him with a high top on his head and hightops on his feet. “Yeah!” Mike answered.

“I’m Lucas,” the other student offered with an extended hand for a shake.

Mike sighed with relief as he returned the handshake energetically, noticing Lucas’ basketball uniform. “You know, normally they send down one of those audio/video geeks.”

Lucas nodded; “Yeah, I know— I know what you mean.”

Right on cue, Dustin Henderson rolled by with the A/V cart. “Hey, Lucas,” Dustin nodded, “where should I put the radio equipment?”

Lucas coughed and brushed Dustin away. “Lucas?” he shook his head, pretending he had no idea who that could be, as he ditched a bewildered Dustin and guided Mike along down the hall.

As they walked past a crowd of popular seniors, Lucas motioned towards them.

“So, over here, you’ve got your basic beautiful people,” he explained, “unless they talk to you first, don’t talk to them.”

“Is that your rule or theirs?”

“Watch,” Lucas offered, nodding in their direction. “Hey there,” he greeted.

“Who are you talking to?” Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington asked with a sneer.

“See?” Lucas smiled at Mike, who shook his head as they moved along. “Anyways, you’ve got your Diet Coke drinkers,” he explained as he motioned toward a crowd of students all holding red cans. “Very edgy, don’t make any sudden movements around them.”

Mike nodded in understanding, trying to keep up— literally, since Lucas kept walking quickly, but also in terms of the explanation of Hawkins High’s social dynamics.

“You’ve got your basic stoners—”

A senior with long black hair and bloodshot eyes caught Mike’s attention. “Hey, nice threads, man,” the stoner complimented with a smile, “Ocean Pacific?”

“And your surfers—”

Mike gawked at the muscular, tan guy with a blonde mullet and, for some reason, no shirt on. “Does he walk around like that at school?” he wondered aloud, but Lucas didn’t notice.

“— even though the closest they’ve been to the ocean is when they drink Ocean Spray cranberry juice.”

As Lucas laughed at his own joke, they walked through the courtyard.

“And this is our fearless Hawkins High basketball team!” Lucas explained, setting his hands on one of the player’s shoulders as they passed their lunch table. “Go Tigers, huh?”

The players scowled at him as Lucas’ hand was shrugged off; he crossed his arms.

“Yesterday I was their up-and-coming star,” Lucas recalled with a roll of his eyes.

“What happened?” Mike asked.

“Patrick McKinney started a rumor that my Converse were fake,” Lucas explained with a sigh.

“So they’re freezing you out?” Mike realized, offended on his behalf and concerned that everyone here was that superficial.

“I’ll get back in, don’t worry,” Lucas assured, but Mike wasn’t really worried about him so much as himself.

It was right then that Elle Hopper walked by, carrying with her the essence of youthful beauty and ingenue-ity. Her busy patterned jumpsuit was every bit as colorful as her spirit; she laughed lightly with the redhead at her side, a few words of a conversation about a trip to the mall floating through the air.

As time seemed to slow just for her, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, sending a wave of the scent of candy-sweet perfume right in Mike’s direction.

“Oh— wow,” Mike sighed like the wind had been knocked out of him. “Who’s she?”

“She’s out of your league is who she is,” Lucas warned.

“And?”

“And she’s got this super scary dad— won’t let her or her sister date. Ever,” Lucas announced firmly.

“How bad could he be, is he a hardened criminal or something?”

“Worse,” Lucas shook his head, “he’s the sheriff.”

“That’s worse?” Mike frowned.

“A criminal will just kill you. The sheriff will actually get away with it.”

“So,” Ms. O’Donnell began, “what did everyone think of The Sun Also Rises?”

Bethany Walters raised her hand instantly, and you rolled your eyes— because of course she would. “I loved it,” she cooed when she was called on. “I was soooo romantic!”

You grimaced, unable to stop yourself from commenting (a habit of yours). “Romantic? Hemingway?! Please— he was an abusive alcoholic misogynist—”

The rest of the class was already groaning and rolling their eyes, a few mutters of not this again here and there, but you kept going.

“— who squandered half his life hanging around Picasso trying to nail his leftovers.”

Yes, it was just like you to say something like that when Bethany was just trying to express a perfectly harmless opinion, but it was just like Jason to take it further. “As opposed to an unlikeable, self-righteous loser with no friends?” he quipped.

You weren’t planning on saying anything, but thankfully Ms. O’Donnell stood up for you anyway. “Quiet, Jason,” she scolded lightly— she was never that hard on him, because he was the star of the basketball team, but she also didn’t let him bully you that openly in class.

“I guess in this society, being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time,” you concluded, shooting Jason a look over your shoulder, who simply smirked back at you.

And if it was just like you to say something snarky and politically-charged, and just like Jason to use it to insult you, then it was just like Eddie to show up late as if it were no trouble at all. “What did I miss?” he asked with a smile as he burst in.

You answered instantly, without looking back: “The oppressive patriarchal values that dictate our education.”

“Great,” Eddie nodded, spinning on his heel and walking right back out again.

“W-wait!” Ms. O’Donnell called out, but Jason spoke again and took her attention away.

“How about we make a new rule— don’t come to class if you can’t handle your PMS,” he suggested jokingly.

“Jason!” she snapped. “Watch your attitude.”

You smirked to yourself smugly, but that moment of righteous indignation didn’t last long.

“And you,” she added, turning her attention to you, “go to the office.”

“What? Why?!” you protested.

“Because— because you’re being disruptive!” she decided.

Sighing, you got up from your seat and slung your backpack over your shoulder. As Jason snickered at you gleefully, you ‘accidentally’ let your textbook swing into his face, smacking that shit-eating look right off of him.

It was only a minute-or-so walk to the office, where you heard Ms. Kelley calling out to her assistant as you walked in.

“What’s another word for engorged?” she asked her, stumping the receptionist.

“Tumescent?” you offered.

“Great!” she smiled, typing at her laptop; you had some inkling what she was using that word for, though you wish you were blissfully ignorant to her erotic exploits. “So, were you terrorizing Ms. O’Donnell’s class again?”

You frowned. “Terrorism is a pretty strong word for simply expressing my opinion.”

“How about the way you expressed your opinion to Billy Hargrove? By the way, his testicle retrieval operation went quite well, if you were wondering.”

“In my defense,” you smirked, “I didn’t know he actually had balls when I kicked him.”

“The point is,” he sighed, less amused, “you tend to make a bad impression on others, and that’s not actually something to be proud of. People see you as—”

“Opinionated?”

“The term used most often is ‘heinous bitch’,” she corrected.

The words themselves didn’t bother you too much— yes, they were sexist, but that was nothing new here— but the knowledge that people were actually saying this to Ms. Kelley gave you pause. Were you really so traumatizing that they had to discuss you with the counselor?

“So, you might want to work on that,” she offered. “Bye!”

You scoffed. “As always,” you began as you stood, “thank you for your excellent guidance. I’ll let you get back to writing about aching cores and quivering members.”

As you turned, quietly proud of yourself for standing up to her, you heard her ponder to herself, “huh… quivering member, I like that…”

In the parking lot, you and Robin were walking side-by-side to your car (since she’d gotten a ride from you today, and also every other day for the past year and a half) when you were nearly run over by Jason screeching up to the curb in his car; it was just like him: shiny and new, overvalued, a fabulous body with subpar machinery under the hood.

“Hey,” he nodded at you, flashing that taunting grin, “didn’t anyone ever tell you that you dress like a bog witch?”

“Aw, do you really mean that?” you beamed excitedly, and he frowned at his failed insult as he pulled his car up a little further. If only he would’ve kept driving straight forward forever— he would’ve gone over the edge of the quarry eventually; but instead, he stopped… in front of your sister.

“Hi, ladies,” he greeted suavely, “care for a ride?”

You and Robin watched from beside your car— it was just like you, too: classic, older on the inside than it was on the outside, and debatably in need of a polish— in horror as Elle and Max hopped into the back of Jason’s convertible with all the girlish glee of two ingenues in over their head.

“Well, that’s a… charming new development,” Robin frowned.

“It’s disgusting,” you spat, hopping into the driver’s seat and turning the engine over. As you pulled out of your spot, you nearly slammed into one of those varsity basketball dweebs speeding by on his bike. “Hey!” you shouted at him, leaning out your window. “Didn’t your mommy tell you to look both ways before riding that thing in the street?”

The kid cowered and biked away, and you shook your head as you pulled it back into the car.

“I swear, these kids are getting dumber every year,” you sighed. “I think there’s a little too much chlorine in the Hawkins gene pool.”

As Lucas pulled over by the curb by Mike, the new student stared at you and Robin driving away in the beat-up vintage. “Are you okay? She almost hit you,” Mike noticed.

“Oh, that’s nothing with your beloved’s older sister,” Lucas scoffed. “I’m lucky I still have all my parts.”

“Wait, that’s Elle’s sister?!” Mike realized.

“Uh huh, in the legal sense,” Lucas agreed. “Sheriff Hopper adopted them both when they were little— I assume he found his first daughter abandoned by a tribe of rampaging bitches or something.”

That was just one of many theories about how exactly your dad came to adopt you and your sister, though the real story was much less interesting; speaking of him, he usually got home from the station after you returned from school, with him working later in the afternoons and all. When he returned home that particular day, he found you reading Jane Eyre on the sofa, and he smiled at you.

“Hello, honey,” he greeted. “Make anyone cry today?”

“Not yet,” you returned, “but it’s only four-thirty!”

He hummed and leaned in to kiss you on the forehead as you turned your page. Right about then, Elle walked through the door— and you knew that she thought she would’ve just made it in time to beat Dad home by the cringe that crossed her face when she saw him. “Hi Daddy!” she beamed, trying to play it cool.

“And where have you been?” you asked, getting a grimace from her for your shameless sell-out.

“Nowhere,” she dodged.

But Dad missed the exchange entirely, still going through the mail. “What’s this?” he asked when he saw a massive white envelope. “It says Sarah Lawrence?”

You hopped up off the couch at lightning speed, snatching the letter away and shredding it open like a kid on Christmas— but not you, some other generic kid, because even when you were little you liked to open presents carefully (it helped you temper your expectations). “Oh my god!” you shrieked when you saw a massive congratulations. “I got in! I got in!!”

“Honey, that’s great,” your dad offered, “you can use that to negotiate better scholarships at Indiana State!”

You frowned. “I know you want me to stay here—”

“We decided that you would stay here,” he countered.

“You decided.”

“So, what, you’re just gonna leave?” he realized with a saddened frown.

“We can dream,” Elle mumbled to herself— but not quite enough to herself, because you caught it and you raised your eyebrows in challenge.

“Why don’t you ask Elle who drove her home?”

“Don’t change the…” Dad trailed off, turning to Elle as he took the bait completely. “Who drove you home?”

“N-now, don’t get upset, Daddy,” she pouted, “but… there’s this boy—”

“Who’s about as sharp as a marble,” you interjected.

“And I think he might ask me—” Elle continued, but this time your dad interrupted her.

“I think I know what he’s going to ask you. And I think I know the answer: No!” he announced proudly. “It’s always no! You know the house rules: one, no dating until you graduate. Two, no dating until you graduate! Pretty simple stuff!”

“Daddyyyy,” Elle whined, making you roll your eyes at her. “It’s so unfair!”

“You know what’s unfair?” he returned, looking at you too. “Last week I had to drive a girl to the hospital, she went into labor alone in her car on the side of the road— and she’s fifteen. You know what she said to me in between bouts of screaming in my backseat?”

“I’m a crackwhore who should have made my sleazy boyfriend wear a condom?” Elle assumed.

“No,” Dad frowned, “she said I should have listened to my father.”

“Oh, she did not,” Elle scoffed disbelievingly.

“Okay, no, she didn’t— but she was probably thinking it!” he insisted.

“Can we focus on me for a second please?” Elle pouted. Like everything isn’t already focused on you, you thought to yourself. “I’m the only girl in school who’s not dating.”

“No you’re not— your sister doesn’t date,” your dad reminded her.

You chimed in quickly: “And I don’t intend to.”

“And, why is that again?” he asked you with a pleased smile.

“Have you seen the unwashed champions of idiocracy that go to that school?!” you replied.

“God, where did you come from? Planet Loser?” Elle spat.

“As opposed to Planet ‘Look at me! Look at me!’” you offered in your best passé, vapid voice with your eyes rolled back halfway.

“Okay, here’s a solution,” Dad decided suddenly, making you both perk up. “Old rule’s stricken, new rule: Elle, you can date—”

She lit up immediately.

“When she does,” he finished, pointing at you.

“B-but, she’s a total freak! What if she never dates?!” Elle whimpered.

“Then you’ll never date! Oh, I like that,” he announced proudly. “And I’ll get to sleep at night— the deep slumber of a father whose daughters aren’t out being impregnated.”

His police radio went off and he sighed.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” he decided, directing his attention at you specifically for a moment: “We’ll talk about college later.”

Elle tried to get him to stay with a whine, but he was gone, and she was pissed at you once more. “Can’t you find some loser sad enough to wanna go out with you so I can be normal?” she pouted.

“Sorry,” you shrugged, “guess you’ll miss out on some fabulously witty banter with Jason.”

“You suck!” she exclaimed as she stormed off.

“You suck!” you imitated her quietly before you went to your own room.

Mike’s patient, anxious waiting paid off when Elle sat down at the library table, setting down her books with a sigh.

“Can we make this quick?” she asked, sounding a little exhausted already. “Tammy Thompson and Tommy Hagan are having a horrendous, public break-up in the courtyard. Again.”

“O-oh, yeah, okay,” Mike agreed, still a little stunned that he was sitting across from the object of his affection. “I thought we’d start with pronunciation…”

“That’s the worst part,” Elle pouted, “I feel like I’m trying to cough up a loogie.”

“Well, then how about we start with cuisine?” he suggested, heart racing even though he’d practiced this a thousand times in the mirror at home. “We could go to that French place on the square, maybe Saturday night?”

“You’re asking me out?” Elle realized, gentle shock lifting into a wide smile. “That’s so cute!”

Mike’s eye twitched.

“What’s your name again?”

“Uh, it’s Mike,” he answered, “listen— I know your dad doesn’t let you date, but I thought if it was for French class—”

“Wait a minute, Mark,” she interrupted.

“Mike.”

“My dad just came up with a new rule! He says I can date if my sister does,” she recalled.

“Really?” Mike perked up. “Well, then let me ask you, do you like D&D? ‘Cause we should totally do a oneshot together—”

“Uh, big problem, Mick,” Elle reminded him, “my sister is a perfect specimen of freakazoid.”

“Yeah, I noticed she’s… antisocial,” Mike offered sympathetically. “Any idea why?”

“I don’t know,” Elle considered, glancing upward as she thought about it. “She used to be, like, really popular, but it was like she got sick of it. I’m pretty sure she’s just incapable of human interaction. That or she has a brain tumor or something. Either way, she’s a bitch.”

“Well, yeah,” Mike agreed half-heartedly, “but there’s plenty of guys who wouldn’t mind going out with a… difficult girl. I mean, she’s not ugly; and people do crazier stuff all the time! Jump out of airplanes, ski off cliffs, swim with sharks… it would be like extreme dating.”

Elle knitted her eyebrows together. “You think you could find someone that extreme?”

“Why not?” Mike shrugged.

“And you’d do all that for me?” she pressed softly, reaching out to brush her hand over his arm.

Mike would do anything for her to touch his arm like that again. “I-I mean, I could look into it…” he offered as his brain short-circuited.

And so he was determined. Which was why he and Lucas weren't actually paying any attention in science class that same day.

As they pretended to make progress on their frog dissection, Mike and his new friend were really scoping the room for local talent to potentially date Hawkins’ resident mega-bitch. Their search so far had only turned up men like themselves: that being men afraid to get the Hargrove treatment and have their future generations compromised. Turns out guys are generally pretty protective of their nuts.

“I told you it was impossible,” Lucas sighed, “no one will go out with her.”

Mike’s attention was taken by the partners two tables over— a massive, freckled kid with a leather jacket, and his buddy with a mess of rocker hair and a custom denim jacket; the latter was fooling around with butterfly knives, before using them to impale the frog carcass, because apparently the little pins provided just weren’t doing it for him.

“Hey, what about him?” Mike wondered, watching with a tilted head.

“Woah, no, you don’t want to mess with that guy,” Lucas shook his head, “don’t even look at him. He’s a criminal, he deals the harder stuff around school— you know, more than just pot. I heard he lit a state trooper on fire. He just did a year at Rikers.”

“Hey, well at least we know he’s horny,” Mike shrugged.

“I’m serious, he’s unhinged!” Lucas warned. “He sold his own liver on the black market for a new set of speakers.”

Meanwhile, the metalhead had taken out a cigarette and was leaning down to light it on a Bunsen burner. The display should’ve deterred anyone, but it made Mike smile optimistically. “He’s our guy,” he insisted.

The basketball team was joking around at lunch as Chance shared an X-rated story from his date the night before, and Lucas took a deep breath as he waited for the perfect moment.

When all the guys laughed at something Chance had said, Lucas quickly slipped in and tried to blend in as he laughed along.

“Oh my— oh my god,” he got out breathlessly as he laughed, “wow, Chance, you’re hilarious.”

He wiped his eye, still laughing as the rest of the table’s reaction died down and they all glared at him.

“Are you lost?” Jason asked coldly.

Lucas sighed. “No, I just… I thought maybe it was all water under the bridge by now.”

“It’s been less than forty-eight hours,” Andy noticed.

“Wow, nice counting, Andy— tomorrow we’ll work on shapes,” Lucas encouraged flatly.

Andy nearly jumped across the table, but Jason put a hand on his chest to hold him back.

“Actually, truth is, I came here to… make a suggestion,” Lucas added, making Jason’s eyebrows raise.

“Go on…”

“You want Elle Hopper, right? The sophomore?” Lucas continued.

“Yeah,” Jason shrugged, “she’s cute.”

“But she can’t date until her sister does,” Lucas went on. “Your problem could be solved if you found someone to take her out.”

Jason laughed. “Does anyone hate themselves that much?”

“Probably not, but people do like money…”

As Lucas bounced his eyebrows up and down, Jason seemed to put together what he was implying. “You want me to pay someone off to date her?”

“I mean, I don’t want you to, but it’s an idea,” Lucas corrected.

“Do you know anyone that desperate for cash and unfazed by the prospect of emasculation?” Jason returned.

“Meet Eddie Munson,” Lucas beamed, motioning to the opposite end of the cafeteria where Eddie was ‘subtly’ trading a bag of pills for a twenty-dollar bill with another student.

“Munson? The Freak? I heard he ate a live duck once,” Jason grimaced.

“Everything but the beak and feet! Clearly he’s a great investment,” Lucas beamed, but Jason remained suspicious.

“What’s in this for you?” he wondered.

“I think you know,” Lucas sighed, “I want back in— I know I’m still on the team, but I wanna be really on the team again. I miss you guys!”

“You miss your chance to be popular,” Jason corrected.

“Also that!” Lucas agreed in a continued upbeat tone.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” Jason agreed cautiously. “Now, back to the loser table with you.”

As Jason shooed him away, Lucas moved across the way to the table where Mike was watching it all go down disapprovingly. “Why do we need to get him involved again?” he wondered with a shudder.

“Calm down, he’s just our money man,” Lucas soothed. “We let him think this is all his idea, meanwhile he’s busy dealing with Eddie and you have time with Elle.”

Mike sighed, concerned, but knowing he was out of other options. Still, in a battle for ‘the girl’, he didn’t feel equipped to face a popular, handsome senior.

But when Eddie looked at Jason, he didn’t see a popular, handsome senior; none of that mattered to him. He just saw: douche with a quaff. So, while he was out taking a smoke break on the stands by the soccer field, he was surprised to see that very quaffed douche approaching him.

“Hey,” Jason offered Eddie with a nod— that very nod that made girls want him and guys want to be him, but it was powerless on Eddie, who just glared back at him while exhaling a cloud of smoke. “How are you?”

Eddie blinked forward, barely aware of the Tiger-pride-green blur beside him.

Jason stammered as he tried again to break the ice. “I, uh, had some great duck last night—”

“Do I know you?” Eddie wondered. “Shit, are you buyin’?” He didn’t seem the type, but hey— as long as he had cash, he was Eddie’s type, customer-wise.

“Uh, no,” Jason shook his head nervously. “Well, actually, yes— but—”

“I don’t sell roofies, Romeo,” Eddie warned him.

“I’m not buying drugs!” Jason barked, a little too loud for something that’s supposed to be secret. “I’m buying a date.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Listen, Carver, you’re a good-looking guy, but—”

“No no!” Jason rushed out, face turning pink. “Not for me! For her!”

Jason pointed down the field to where you were running drills, sweating and determined, grunting as you kicked the ball across the grass. “The Hopper chick?” Eddie noticed.

“Yeah!”

Eddie laughed sharply, and so did his friend beside him. “Yeah, sure thing, champ— I’ll get right on that,” Eddie agreed sarcastically.

“Look, until someone goes out with her, I can’t bag her sister,” Jason explained with a sigh.

“What a shame,” Eddie stuck out his bottom lip, “how many years of therapy will you need to cope with this trauma?”

“I know you don’t care about me,” Jason crossed his arms, “but I’m thinking you care a bit about Andrew Jackson?”

“That racist son of a bitch? He was a piece of—” Eddie began, but then Jason pulled the twenty out of his pocket and brandished it proudly, making Munson shut his mouth.

“Whaddaya say?” Jason prompted. “For a crisp twenty, you could take out the lovely Miss Hopper—”

As they glanced down the field, the guys winced at the sight of you roughly body-checking another player, who fell to the ground with a cry.

“For a crisp thirty—” Jason began again, summoning a ten from his pocket.

“Well, now, let’s think about this,” Eddie pondered aloud. “You’re paying me to take her out, but I’ve gotta actually take her somewhere: we’ll say the movies. That’s fifteen bucks for two tickets. We get popcorn, that’s… fifty.”

Jason scoffed. He knew there was more than a little inflation going on in those numbers, but he also knew that the freak had him under his thumb in these negotiations.

“She’s gonna want Junior Mints, what do you know, we’re looking at seventy-five already,” Eddie smirked.

“What kind of gold-plated Junior Mints are you buying?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“What kind of girl is this chick’s little sister?” Eddie countered. “Is she really worth it, or are you just blowing hot air?”

Jason was powerless to even such an obvious trap— he could never say no to a dare. Eddie was really saying, are you chicken? And Jason could probably be talked into fighting a bear while only armed with a butter knife if it was all to prove he was not, in fact, chicken. “Fifty,” Jason spat, “final offer.”

A bill was produced from Carver’s designer wallet, and Eddie’s ring-covered fingers snatched it away and stuffed it into his pocket. “Pleasure doing business with you,” Eddie offered with a sarcastically-saccharine smile, but Jason only rolled his eyes and wandered off.

Just then, Coach Hastings blew the whistle. “Good hustle, girls, good hustle!” he offered to the team. “Take a water break!”

Seeing the group of players disperse, Eddie waited until you were on your way to the cooler to snuff his cigarette and jog up beside you. You shot him a look before he even said anything. “Hey there, girlie,” Eddie greeted you, “how ya doin’?”

“Uh, sweating like a pig,” you answered, wiping your face on your uniform, “and yourself?”

“You sure know how to get a guy’s attention, huh?” he laughed nervously.

You seemed amused, but in more of an at way than a with way. "My mission in life," you quipped. "But, hey, clearly I captured your attention. Lucky me."

He grinned as he watched you chug your water. "So I'll pick you up Friday then?"

You choked, laughing as you nearly spit the water right onto him. "Yeah," you agreed sarcastically as you wiped your chin, "sure, Friday."

"I'll take you places you've never been before," he promised lasciviously.

"Like where, the crackhouse on Miller Street?" you rolled your eyes. "Do you even know my name, screwboy?"

"I know more than you think," he challenged.

"Well, for that to be true," you returned, "you'd have to know more than the average eighth-grade dropout."

You turned to leave, walking away with a shake of your head. "Well that's easy!" he laughed as he called after you. "I did eighth grade twice!"

From across the field, Mike and Lucas watched you ditch Eddie with cringes on their face.

"We're screwed," Mike sighed.

"Now wait a minute, where'd all your optimism go? I wanna hear you upbeat!" Lucas beamed.

"We're screwed!" Mike repeated, a forced, cheesy smile glued to his face between two thumbs-up.

"That's better," Lucas approved, patting Mike on the back.

As you exited the local records store, empty handed due to the continued lack of good punk records available, you sighed at the sight of Eddie Munson leaning against your hood.

"Nice ride," he noticed. "Vintage fenders?"

"Are you stalking me?" you asked instead, brushing past him to try to unlock your door, but he slid in front of you with crossed arms.

"I was in the laundromat," he assured, tilting his head to the washateria across the street, "I saw your car, that's all."

"Funny, you don't strike me as someone who washes their clothes," you mocked.

"Well, if you must know, I was there to make a sale," Eddie admitted.

"And what are you here for, blocking my door?" you wondered.

"To say hi!"

"Hi."

You tried to reach around him again to get the key in the lock but he put his hand over it. "Not much of a talker, are you?"

"Not much of a listener, are you? I'm not interested."

"Are you scared of me?" he asked— not a threat, not hopeful or disappointed, just a genuine question.

"Why would I be?"

"I dunno, most people are."

"Well, I'm not."

"Okay, you're not scared of me— but I bet you've thought about me naked," he purred, leaning in a little closer.

"Am I that transparent?" you gasped, faux worry dropping into deadpan disdain. "I want you, I need you, oh baby, oh baby."

Just when he let you get into your car, finally, Jason Carver and his dick-compensation-mobile pulled up and screeched to a halt right behind you, blocking you in.

"The fuck?! Is there some kind of creep convention going on at the record store?" you groaned, laying on your horn. "Carver!" you barked as he hopped out and strolled by you. "Move your gaudy-ass car!"

"No, thanks," he smiled at you as he walked along towards the storefront.

You felt helpless, until you got a dangerous idea— and fed up as you were, you couldn't resist it. Flooring it in reverse, those vintage fenders of yours piercing right through the cherry-red paint and imported metal underneath.

Jason sure whipped his head around fast and gaped his mouth at the damage. "You bitch!" he screeched.

Hearing Eddie's belly laugh, you looked at Jason and offered him only a flippant shrug and a "whoops!"

"WHOOPS?!" your dad repeated, pacing around the kitchen as you sat at the table. "My insurance doesn't cover teen angst!"

You shrugged again. "Then tell them it was a seizure or something."

"Are you punishing me?" he wondered. "Because I don't want you to go to Sarah Lawrence?"

"Are you punishing me for standing up for myself?" you countered.

“No, but I’d prefer you didn’t do it in such an expensive way!”

You scoffed. “I’d prefer that you stopped making my decisions for me.”

“Well—” he began, but he was cut off by his police radio sounding off.

“Chief Hopper, come in— Chief Hopper, this is dispatch, we have a 10-54…” the nasal feminine voice came through.

You both sighed and he picked up the radio. “Chief here, I’ll head there now.” He turned to you with a pointed finger. “We’ll discuss this later,” he promised, or threatened, depends on how you look at it. As he left, Elle stormed in, fuming at you.

“Did you just maim Jason’s car?!” she yelped.

"Allegedly," you grinned. "Looks like little miss princess is gonna have to ride the bus with the unwashed masses.”

As Eddie shut his locker, he was startled by Jason glowering on the other side. “Shit,” Eddie blurted out.

“When I shell out fifty, I expect results,” Jason frowned.

“I’m working on it,” Eddie insisted, brushing Jason off as he grabbed his books and shut his locker.

“Standing by while she violated my car doesn’t count as a date,” Jason reminded him. “I don’t get any if you don’t, so you better figure out how to charm this chick or—”

“I just upped my price,” Eddie decided suddenly.

Jason had just turned to walk away, but that made him look at Eddie again. “Excuse me?”

“A hundred bucks a date, in advance,” Eddie announced.

“Forget it,” Jason dismissed.

“Then forget her sister,” Eddie shrugged.

Jason hesitated, wondering if Elle was really worth all the trouble. Maybe she wasn’t, to him— but the street cred he’d get if he deflowered her was. He groaned as he reached for his wallet, and Eddie grinned proudly. “You’d better be as smooth as you think you are, Munson,” Jason warned as Eddie snatched up the bill.

The interaction still had Eddie in a particularly bad mood during shop class, making Mike even more hesitant to approach him;

“Wh-why can’t you talk to him?” he asked Lucas.

“I talked to Jason,” Lucas replied.

“Yeah, but you know Jason,” Mike reminded him, “and Jason isn’t… unstable.”

“Just go, chicken,” Lucas rolled his eyes, shoving Mike forward— and he stumbled, but made his way over to Eddie’s workstation.

When he got a glare from under a curly fringe, Mike just blurted it out: “We know what you’re trying to do… with Hopper?”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” Eddie challenged.

“Uh— help you! We wanna help you,” Mike explained quickly.

Eddie wrinkled his eyebrows together, standing up straighter and crossing his arms. “Why, exactly?”

Lucas appeared behind Mike, resting his hands on his shoulders. “You see, my friend here is… mildly obsessed with her sister, Elle.”

“What’s the deal with this girl, her tits shoot fireworks or something?” Eddie scoffed, and Mike nearly jumped on him for saying that— as if that fight wouldn’t be pitifully uneven.

“Mike’s love for her is… a little purer than that,” Lucas promised, “especially purer than Jason Carver’s.”

“Look,” Eddie leveled with the two of them, “I’m in this for the cash. Carver can plow whoever he wants.”

“Okay, there will be no plowing!” Mike exclaimed, voice cracking.

“Listen, Eddie— uh, Ed,” Lucas smiled, “this whole thing— we set it all up! We told Jason to pay you off, so Mike can get the girl. Mr. Popular is just a pawn.”

Eddie seemed to like that; maybe even someone as detached from the popularity hierarchy could still enjoy a little humiliation for the star point guard. “So, are you gonna help me tame the beast, then?”

“Are you talking about Hopper, or your hair?” Lucas joked, though he dropped his smile when Eddie glared at him. “O-okay, yeah, we’re gonna do some research, we can find out what she likes and stuff. We’re your guys.”

“In a strictly non-prison-movie way,” Mike added anxiously.

Mike and Elle were walking around the old bridge— she promised to show him the prettiest place in Hawkins, he thought about turning it into a line but he resisted the urge, and he delicately broke the pleasant silence. “So, have you heard about the party Steve Harrington is throwing at his parents’ lake house?”

“Yes,” Elle pouted, “and I really really wanna go, but I can’t. Not unless my sister goes.”

“I’m working on that,” Mike promised, “but she’s not going for my guy.” He paused before he continued, narrowing his eyes. “She’s not a, uh…”

"A friend of Billie Jean?” Elle finished.

“No, I’m not asking if she’s a Michael Jackson fan,” Mike corrected, “I meant—”

“I know what you meant!” Elle rolled her eyes. “Billie Jean King? Tennis player, women’s rights advocate, giant flaming lesbian?”

“O-oh,” Mike stuttered, “I don’t really watch tennis…”

“Or the news, apparently,” Elle sighed. “The point is, no, I don't think so. I found a picture of Rob Lowe in her drawer once so she's at least got some interest in men. Jury's still out on her bestie Robin Buckley, though…"

"But that's the kind of guys she likes? Pretty guys?"

Elle shrugged. "All I know is she said she'd never date a smoker."

“Okay, no smoking,” Mike nodded, “what else?”

“Listen, I try not to get too deep into my sister’s twisted psyche,” Elle sighed.

“But we need to know more!” Mike insisted. “We need to go behind enemy lines…”

Even though it was his idea, Mike felt a little out of his depth watching Elle go through your room; it looked sort of how he imagined it might, except for missing a giant cork board with pins and red yarn outlining your plan to cause men as much suffering as possible.

“Okay, here we go!” Elle announced excitedly as she rifled through a drawer. “Class schedule, reading list, concert tickets… ha! Black panties!”

Mike cleared his throat as she held up the offending pair of lacy underthings. “What does that tell us?”

“That she wants to have sex some day.”

“Couldn’t she just like the color?” Mike wondered, flustered.

“You don’t buy lingerie unless you want someone to see it,” Elle insisted.

“Oh,” Mike nodded, perking up slightly. “So… can I see your room?”

Elle blinked quickly, getting a bit tender all of a sudden. “No… a girl’s room is very personal…” she explained shyly.

“Right,” Mike agreed nervously.

Two sophomores didn’t exactly blend in at The Hideout— it was a dingy old hole-in-the-wall, with grimey old bikers getting drunk in every corner… and Eddie, shooting pool by himself in the back. He straightened up when they approached him, nursing his beer with a raised eyebrow.

“We have information for you,” Mike explained.

“Don’t say it like that, it sounds weird,” Eddie frowned, “she’s just a girl, not a… spy or something.”

“Right,” Lucas agreed as Eddie took another sip from the brown bottle.

Mike narrowed his eyes. “Should you be drinking alcohol when you don’t have a liver?”

“What?!” Eddie scrunched up his nose.

“Nothing,” Lucas shook his head.

“The first thing is she hates smokers,” Mike explained.

Eddie groaned. “I’m gonna have to quit? Fuck, this is getting more unpleasant by the minute—”

“Just for now!” Lucas bargained.

"And there’s another problem: Elle said that her sister likes, uh, pretty guys,” Mike added.

There was a tense pause, until Eddie’s eyes widened. “Are you saying I’m not a pretty guy?”

“H-he’s very pretty!” Lucas smacked Mike on the back. “He’s gorgeous, look at him!”

“S-sorry, I wasn’t sure,” Mike mumbled awkwardly.

Eddie brushed off the insult quickly, taking a big puff off of his cigarette— maybe he appreciated it more, knowing he’d have to cut back for a while after this. Meanwhile, Mike pulled out a folded up piece of heart-shaped mini-notebook paper (borrowed stationary from Elle, obviously) and read the list aloud.

“Okay, ‘likes: Thai food, feminist prose, and—’” he cleared his throat before he continued— “‘angry girl music of the indie-rock persuasion.’ Here’s a list of CDs that she has in her room.”

Eddie looked at the list in disdain. “So I’m supposed to, what, take her out for noodles and spoken word and sit around listening to chicks who can’t play their instruments?”

“Have you ever been to Club Nina?” Lucas wondered.

“Her favorite band is playing there tomorrow night,” Mike explained, and Eddie sighed as he pressed his lips together.

“I can’t be seen at Club Nina,” Eddie shook his head. “First of all, that’s rival turf, second of all—”

“She’ll be there, she’s already got tickets for her and Robin,” Lucas pressed. “Just… tolerate it, for a night. And maybe don’t deal any drugs there.”

“Can I at least do some drugs there?” Eddie frowned.

“As long as you’re not too out of sorts to do some major seducing,” Mike offered. “She has a pair of black underwear! If that helps.”

“I mean, it couldn’t hurt, right?” Lucas elbowed Eddie playfully, who jerked away.

As stupid as it was, Eddie found himself still wondering about your alleged black panties as he walked into the club to look for you the next night. He found you horribly frustrating, sure, and the feeling was mutual, but picturing you in something like that was... not too terrible.

Eddie noticed the looks he was getting from the girls at Club Nina, and they weren’t exactly approving; a man invading their space was bad enough, but a metalhead in the land of the soft-rockers was turning heads.

He ignored it for the most part and sat down at the bar, ordering something light enough that he could keep his wits about him, but hard enough that he could tolerate this whole situation. Believe it or not, he didn’t actually like getting repeatedly insulted and degraded by you— it wasn’t even the sexy kind of degrading, just your incessant hatefulness chipping away at his dignity. But damn, he could feel the added weight of Carver’s money in his wallet, and he liked that.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for you to show up at the bar, ordering two waters like the lightweight you were. He pretended not to see you, but you didn’t offer the same courtesy, making a groan of disgust at him. “If you’re planning on asking me out again, just get it over with,” you pleaded distastefully.

He looked at you with an irritated frown, pointing at the band behind him. “Keep it down, maybe? I’m trying to listen.”

That seemed to throw you off, and he enjoyed your moment of bewilderment. “Did you leave your cancer sticks behind?” you asked.

“Yeah, permanently,” he nodded. “Turns out they’re bad for you.”

He shrugged, and you dropped the sarcasm for a split-second. “You did?” you pressed, surprised.

“You know,” he changed the subject instead, “these guys are no Adolescents or Souixsie and the Banshees, but they’re alright.”

“You know Souixsie and the Banshees?” you repeated, flabbergasted.

“Why, don’t you?” he joked. He got down another sip of watered-down liquor, before turning to face you directly. “You know, I was watching you before,” he admitted, yelling to be heard over the crescendo of the song, “I’ve never seen you look so sexy!”

Of course, that was right about when the song ended, and Eddie looked around the club as he realized the entire swarm of alt chicks had heard him. As they laughed at the scene, he smiled awkwardly and watched you get visibly embarrassed— good to know you had emotions other than rage, contempt, and boredom.

“Why don’t you come to Steve Harrington’s party with me?” he challenged, and the moment faded as the next song began.

“You never give up, do you?” you frowned, starting to walk away and back into the dancing crowd.

“Was that a yes?” he wondered.

“No!” you shouted back to him.

“Was it a no?” he added.

“No!” you said again, and he smiled.

“I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty, then!” he called to you, but you were lost to him again— for now.

Elle and Max, dolled up in their finest party gear, crept carefully across the foyer towards the front door. Elle knew all the creaky floorboards to avoid, yet even in their silence they seemed to trigger Chief Hopper’s sixth sense. “You should have used the window,” he announced as they deflated.

“H-hi Daddy,” she greeted as if all were normal.

“Hi,” he returned as he looked at them. “Where are we going?”

“Um, just a small study group of friends,” Elle insisted, and Max nodded along.

“Otherwise known as an orgy?!” Dad barked.

“Mr. Hopper— Chief, sir— it’s just a party,” Max soothed.

“And Hell is just a sauna!” he returned.

As you came walking down the stairs into the middle of the argument, oblivious, your dad snagged your attention.

“Are you aware of this party?” he asked. You simply shrugged, on a mission for snacks.

“People expect me to be there!” Elle complained. “I have friends waiting for me! Daaaddddyyy!!”

“If your sister’s not going, you’re not going,” he stood fast.

Of course, that turned her ire towards you. “Why can’t you be normal?” she whined.

“Define ‘normal’,” you challenged as you crossed your arms.

“Going to Steve’s party is normal!”

You scoffed. “Steve’s party is just a lame excuse for all the youthful morons of Hawkins High to drink beer and rub up against each other in hopes of distracting themselves the pathetic emptiness of their—”

Elle and Max interrupted to finish your rant: “meaningless, consumer-driven lives,” they groaned in unison.

You hadn’t realized you were so predictable, and your shock gave Elle an opportunity to make one more plea.

“Can you just, for one night, forget about your crusade against all things enjoyable and just be my sister? please? C’mon,” she begged, stepping up closer, “please, do this for me.”

It was more sincere than you were used to from her, and it reminded you of simpler times, of when she thought you were the coolest big sister ever and she was your favorite person— before she was spoiled by the world and you were soured by it. Those memories were what convinced you to somberly nod. “I’ll make an appearance,” you agreed, and she squealed as she hugged you joyfully.

“Oh god, it’s starting,” your dad mumbled to himself in a daze.

“It’s just a party,” Elle promised him, but he stiffened up suddenly.

“I want you to wear the belly,” he announced.

Elle whimpered out her “Daddy, no!” but it was too late, he’d already gone to fetch it from the closet, and you watched with schadenfreude as he pulled out the padded faux-pregnancy jacket.

“Not all night,” he promised, “just around the living room for a minute while you contemplate the weight of your decisions.”

She held her arms out in defeat as he slipped it on over her dress, smiling proudly at his work.

“Every time you even think about kissing a boy,” Dad lectured, “just imagine wearing this all the time.”

“You’re such a space cadet,” she sighed.

“Okay, we’re going now,” you announced as you headed for the door, but he stopped you.

“Wait a minute: no drinking, no drugs, no kissing, no tattoos, no piercings, no getting in vans, no— no ritual animal slaughter!” he enumerated. “Oh god, I’m giving them ideas…”

You startled when you opened the door and saw Eddie standing there, fist raised as he was about to knock. “What are you doing here?” you asked him flatly.

“Nine-thirty, right?” he smiled, “I’m early.”

“Whatever, I’m driving,” you insisted.

He leaned to the side to look over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Who knocked up your sister?”

Lucas held on tight to his drink in a plastic cup as he attempted to keep Max Mayfield’s attention for at least a few minutes at a time.

“You know, I’m on the basketball team,” he reminded her with a grin.

“Right,” she mumbled, unimpressed, but he was a little too tipsy to notice that his lines weren’t working.

“Do you, uh, play any sports?” he asked.

“I skate, if that counts,” she shrugged.

“Oh, rollerblading is cool!” Lucas beamed, but Max rolled her eyes and walked away at his incorrect guess of what kind of skating she meant. “Ever been to Rink-O-Mania?” he called after her, sighing when he realized he’d officially struck out.

You brushed past him, knocking into his shoulder as he pouted. Eddie was still following you, for some reason, dodging dancing girls and kissing couples along the way.

Jason clicked his tongue at you as you passed by. “Lookin’ fresh,” he cooed, in that way that was mostly mocking yet probably a real come-on if you went for it: Schrödinger’s pick-up line, if you will.

“Oh my god, did you feel that?” you looked around at the air. “My pussy just dried up so fast it actually dropped the humidity in here!”

Jason seemed a little too interested in an update on your genitals, but you were already walking away, trying to lose him and Eddie now. “Hey, is your sister here?” he asked you loudly.

“Stay away from my sister,” you warned.

“I will,” he promised, “but, you know, I can’t guarantee that she’ll stay away from me…”

You shook your head as you shoved your way into another room of the Harrington’s massive lodge, accidentally stumbling upon two jocks wrestling and throwing punches on the floor. A crowd had gathered around the scene to cheer them on, and you sneered in disgust at the uncivil display.

“Hey, hey!” Steve himself appeared, trying to break it up. “Take it outside!”

One jock pulled the other up by his shirt, and the two of them went tumbling back— right through the window. They didn’t even stop swinging as they fell onto the grass, and Steve’s face went blank with numb shock.

“Th-thanks,” he mumbled to himself, and you gave him a pat on the shoulder as you passed by.

“At least we’re on the ground floor,” you offered him quickly, but a tap on your shoulder pulled your attention away.

“Hey,” Jason smirked as he let you get a good look at him with his arm around your sister’s shoulders, “look who found me.”

You weren’t even angry— which was a nice break, really— you were just worried now. “Elle, wait,” you called to her as they walked away.

“Please don’t address me in public,” Elle requested with a roll of her eyes.

“I just wanna tell you something!” you pleaded.

“I’m being a normal teenager for a night— you should try it,” she suggested, and the two of them disappeared into the crowd again.

Just in time for your impending breakdown, some guy walked by holding a tray of shots. “Shots, anyone? Ladies?”

You grabbed one with each hand and tossed them back in rapid succession. You reached for a third when Eddie reappeared, snagging it out of your hand. “What are you doing?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m getting trashed, dude,” you offered in a fake party-boy voice. “Isn’t that the point of all this?”

Eddie shrugged. “Think the point is to just… be yourself.”

You snorted. “You might be the only person who thinks I should be myself.”

At the same time that you were ditching Eddie again, Mike was finding Lucas. “Have you seen her around anywhere?” he asked as he scanned the crowd. For all his excitement to find her, he seemed to get overwhelmed when he saw Elle coming down the stairs with Max.

“Come on, man, relax,” Lucas assured as he patted his shoulders. Mike took a deep breath. “Just be yourself.”

Nodding, Mike summoned his courage and approached the girls. “H-hey, Elle,” he greeted politely.

“Hey,” Elle returned, “Mike, um— do you know Max?”

Elle grabbed the redhead and shoved her towards Mike so she could try to break away.

“Oh, yeah,” Mike nodded, “we have Math together, right?”

Max hummed as she crossed her arms; “Great,” she offered unenthusiastically.

“You, uh, look really amazing tonight,” Mike offered Elle, and Max cringed as he failed to take the hint.

“Oh— um,” Elle stalled, and Jason descended the stairs to slip his arm around her.

“And we all know I look amazing,” he interjected, making the girls giggle and Mike roll his eyes. “C’mon, Elle, let’s go— there are jell-o shots in the kitchen.”

He was already turning her around to guide her away, forcing her to look over her shoulder to wave at Mike: “See you around, okay?”

Mike watched helplessly as Jason took his dream girl from right in front of him— the blonde even offered him a thumbs up on his way out, to add insult to injury.

Eddie found you again in the study, starting to work on another drink. “Hey hey hey,” he interrupted as he gently lifted it away from you, watching you whine and make grabby hands for it. “Why don’t you let me have this one, hm?”

“No!” you pouted, jumping for it, but he held it up higher— it forced you to push yourself up against him to try to get it, and he forced himself not to notice how it felt to be close to you.

Someone walked by with their own drink, just about to have a sip when you snatched it away instead, running off before Eddie could set down the cup and catch up. “Shit,” he hissed to himself.

As he tried to navigate past other partygoers to get to the kitchen, he heard the blasting stereo change songs to something not actually awful (in his opinion): Def Leppard. Unfortunately, you seemed to like Pour Some Sugar On Me, too— considering you hopped up on a table and started dancing there instead.

“How’d you get her to be normal?” Jason laughed as he appeared beside Eddie— and he couldn’t decide if he was more disgusted by Carver’s glee watching you, or Carver’s chumminess with him.

“Hey!” Eddie called to you, getting through the crowd of cheering guys as quickly as he could, but you couldn’t hear him through the overwhelming sound and the haze of drunkenness. He watched you dance, a mix of concern, embarrassment, and arousal stirring in him as your moves became more and more suggestive. “HEY!”

When he shouted the second time, it didn’t quite get you to look at him but it did startle you, making you whack your head on the chandelier— which in turn made you stumble and fall. When you came down dramatically, he held out his arms and managed to catch you, looking at your startled, panting face.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, but you looked angry at him again.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, trying to wiggle out of his embrace, but failing.

“You’re not fine,” he groaned, “c’mon…”

He didn’t exactly carry you, mostly because you wouldn’t let him, but he didn’t let you walk on your own when he saw how wobbly your legs were.

The sounds of the party faded into the distance as you walked in the grass, up to the shore of Lover’s Lake where the Harrington’s had some rustic old swings hanging from under a massive tree by the water.

“I-I just need to lie down somewhere,” you insisted, stumbling again as Eddie had to grab at your waist to keep you upright.

“No, you can’t lie down right now,” he sighed. “If you lie down you’ll go to sleep.”

You pouted as he set you down on a swing. “I like sleep,” you protested.

“Can’t sleep if you might have a concussion,” he explained, watching you slump against the rope beside you.

He was about to fuss over you a little more, try to keep you awake somehow, but he saw Mike storming down across the grass.

“Hey,” Mike greeted as Eddie stepped past you slightly to meet him. “We need to talk.”

“I’m a little busy at the moment,” Eddie informed him, gesturing towards you.

“Well— it’s over, okay? All of this— the deal’s off,” Mike frowned.

“Huh?”

“She never wanted me,” he realized with a sigh. “She wanted Jason the whole time.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Listen— do you really like this girl?”

“Yeah!” Mike assured.

“And she’s worth going through all this trouble?” he pressed, stepping forward towards the new kid.

“I— I think so.”

“Either she is or she isn’t,” Eddie frowned, “and considering we made it this far, she must be— so you need to keep fighting for her! You’re twice the man that Jason is, if she’s got two brain cells to rub together she’ll figure out she’s better off with you. Capice?”

Mike puffed up his chest a bit. “O-okay!” he decided. “I’m gonna go for it!”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” Eddie cheered, slapping Mike on the shoulder before he ran off back to the party.

Eddie was smiling as he turned to you, only to lose his grin and rush over as you started to fall forward out of the swing.

“Woah woah!” he yelped as he knelt down in front of you and held your face with both hands. “Gotta stay awake, remember, sweetheart?”

You stuck your bottom lip out. “You’re so patronizing.”

He smirked. “Leave it to you to use your vocabulary words when you’re totally shitfaced.”

When you fluttered your eyes shut, he lightly smacked your cheek, the rings hitting a little extra hard on your jaw as you groaned. “What are you hitting me for?”

“Because you might have a concussion,” he reminded you.

“And you want to add to it?” you assumed, awake enough for him to let go of your face, which he did.

“If you go to sleep now, you might not wake up.”

“You don’t care if I never wake up,” you dismissed.

He smiled at you, a little too amused by such a morbid sentiment. “Sure I do!”

“Why?”

He almost let his smile falter. “If you died, I might have to go out with a girl who actually likes me,” he answered.

“If you could find one,” you snorted, eyes still shut but face curling into a proud grin at your own joke.

“See? Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?” he teased.

You sniffled and sat up a little straighter, so Eddie stepped back and sat down on the swing beside you.

“So, why’d you let him get to you?” he wondered, looking out across the lake sparkling under the glow of a half-moon.

“Who?”

“Jason. You’re normally so unaffected.”

“He always drives me crazy,” you admitted, “but messing with my sister is crossing the line.”

“Well, you’ve chosen some creative revenge,” he laughed, “by drinking through the Harrington’s liquor cabinet.”

You laughed along with him, a rare moment where you two overlapped— and not even in a negative emotion! “You know what they say,” you replied.

“What’s that?” he wondered. But you didn’t continue. He looked to the side and saw you falling down again.

“Shit,” he spat, leaning forward and catching you at your shoulders, tilting your face up to his. “Wake up! C’mon, look at me, sweetheart, listen to me— open your eyes…”

He was a little overwhelmed by the way you did exactly as he’d asked, fluttering your eyes open at him, something entirely new in them that he’d never seen on you before— or maybe anyone, at least this up close. “Hey,” you smiled softly. “Did you know your eyes are a little bit hazel?”

He smiled back at you, examining your face, wondering for a split second if he should go for it.

But before he could, you keeled over and wretched— right on his white Reeboks. “Shit,” he said again.

Elle was waiting out in the cool night air, her thin cardigan not doing much for her as she watched Jason drive off with a slew of girls in tow; he’d tried to get her to go to another party, but along with her curfew coming up, it turned out that he was sort of a dud. For all his alleged charisma as one of the most popular guys in school, he didn’t know how to talk about anything but basketball, plus his ‘boys’ and their misadventures— usually drunken ones. She tried to cut him some slack since he was likely a little tipsy, but she still couldn’t justify the way he talked about his ex-girlfriend. It was just tacky!

As she waited for you to hopefully reappear soon and drive her home, Mike brushed by. “Have fun tonight?” he asked, somewhat sharply.

“Tons,” Elle sighed, expecting him to stop and getting a little more shy when he didn’t. “Hey, um, Mike?”

He stopped and turned, and she gave him a pitiful look.

“Any chance you could give me a ride home?”

Eddie hadn’t driven a car as small as yours in a while— and it wasn’t even small, it just felt that way compared to his van.

You reached forward and turned up the stereo, a Patti Smith song getting louder as you did. “I should do this,” you announced.

“What?” he wondered.

“This!” you said again, pointing to the radio. “Make music, start a band! Aren’t you in a band?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you knew that,” he admitted.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do, too,” you decided with firm defiance. “My father would love that.”

“I didn’t think you were the type to worry about what your father thought,” Eddie noticed.

“Oh, so now you’ve got me all figured out?” you scoffed.

He shrugged. “I’m getting there.”

You deflated slightly as you looked out the window. “Nobody knows anything about me,” you admitted, “except that I’m ‘scary’ or whatever.”

He smirked slightly at your air quotes. “I’m not known to be particularly enjoyable either.”

When you looked at him, he felt a little penetrated by your stare, so he looked back at the road ahead.

“Look at us, having a little talk about real stuff,” he blurted out, trying to break the tension. “I mean, you’re usually so closed off and now I think you might spill your guts or something. Oh, right— you already did…”

And you stiffened up again. Right on cue.

Whereas your conversation with Eddie died a few minutes before you pulled up to your house, Elle and Mike’s only began when he put the car in park. “You never wanted to hang out with me, did you?” he realized, irritation tinting his voice.

“I— I did!” Elle lied, trying to be nice. But she was always trying to be nice, and that wasn’t enough; Mike scoffed in frustrated disbelief.

“You didn’t!”

Elle deflated. “Yeah… okay. Not really.”

“Well, then that’s all you had to say! You could’ve just said you weren’t interested and none of this would’ve happened— but then you wouldn’t have gotten your night with Jason. That’s what this was all about, wasn’t it?”

“But I—” she began, cut off by Mike’s rant.

“You know, you can’t just treat people however you want because you’re beautiful. Lucas told me you were vapid, and I defended you! I— I learned French for you! And then you just—”

She cut him off with a kiss— a sweet kiss, not too short, but exactly the sort of kiss two sophomores should share in a car after a party. When she pulled away, she smiled a little, and Mike blinked at her a couple times.

“Goodnight,” she offered softly, getting out of the car and walking up the steps to her front door.

Mike turned to face forward again, dumbfounded expression morphing slowly into a grin. “And I’m back in the game!” he beamed, pumping his fist triumphantly.

As you walked into class, you tried to avoid the eyes on you— but you couldn’t, just like you couldn’t avoid throbbing in your head.

“Nice moves last night, señorita,” one of the stoners in class nodded approvingly as you came in.

“That was radical, dude,” a surfer boy offered with a ‘hang tight’ hand symbol.

And then there was Jason. “What do you owe you for the table dance, babe?” he taunted.

Shuddering, you sat down as Ms. O’Donnell began. “Settle down, please,” she begged the class. “Whatever happened outside of school hours is not to be discussed now. Wouldn’t you rather hear about your midterm assignment?”

The class groaned in unison.

“You’ll be writing a sonnet,” she explained, “in the style of William Shakespeare.”

When you raised your hand, you saw the look on her face, and you knew what she was expecting. And you didn’t blame her. You spoke when she pointed towards you. “Should it be in iambic pentameter?”

She seemed suspicious of such a simple question. “Um, no, it doesn’t have to be,” she replied. “Why?”

“I just wanted to know…” you mumbled sheepishly. “Is that so wrong?”

“Um, no,” she decided. “That’s a good question, Miss Hopper… and it doesn’t. Thank you for asking.”

She wasn’t the only one shocked by your sudden interest in her teaching, and you noticed the way the entire class was looking at you. “What?” you scoffed, and you shook the moment off as Ms. O’Donnell began lecturing again.

Mike and Eddie sat beside each other as they watched your soccer practice from a safe distance. “What’d you do to her?” Mike wondered.

“What? I didn’t do anything— did you see how drunk she was?” Eddie shook his head. “What made you think something happened, anyways?”

“The fact that the plan was working,” Mike answered.

“Why do you care? I thought it was over.”

“It was,” Mike agreed, smiling, “until she kissed me.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Eddie congratulated, “I told you to go for it.”

Lucas, meanwhile, was running the track— and he stopped when he passed the two other boys. “Alright, I talked to her,” he informed them, “I got the scoop.”

“What’d she say?” Mike wondered excitedly.

“Hates him with the fire of a thousand suns,” he announced with a sarcastic smile. “That’s a direct quote.”

Eddie sighed, looking a little defeated.

“H-hey,” Mike tried to comfort him, “maybe she just needs a day to cool off?”

But the three of them had to lean away to dodge a soccer ball that came flying over, narrowly avoiding nailing Eddie in the head. When they looked up together at the source, they caught your glare coming their way.

“...or two,” Eddie added.

You groaned as you sat with Robin on the bench, watching the prom committee hang up posters all over the courtyard for the wretched event.

“Can you imagine going to that brainless display of teenage vapidity?” you rolled your eyes.

“Uh, I can,” Robin admitted, “if I had a date.”

“I thought things were going okay with Vickie,” you frowned at her.

“Well, yeah, they’re okay, but it’s not like that, yet,” she explained.

“You’re sparing yourself by not going,” you insisted, “the whole thing is a patriarchal sham anyways.”

“Even if you go with a girl?”

“Yes,” you groaned, “because you’re still supporting the institution. It’s basically a mating ritual you have to dress up for!”

“Alright, we won’t go,” she promised. “I didn’t have anything to wear, even if I knew how to ask Vickie…”

“You’re looking at this all backwards,” you sighed, “we’re not missing out— we’re making a statement!”

“Oh, great,” Robin beamed sarcastically, “something new and different for us!”

Across the courtyard, Elle was busy reviewing her Science homework at a table when Jason popped in beside her. “Hey there, cutie,” he cooed.

“Hey…” she mumbled, focusing still on her textbook, in fact she hadn’t even looked up at him.

“Studying hard, huh?” he noticed, trying to prompt her again.

“Can I help you?” she wondered flatly.

“Well, it would help me a lot if you say yes when I ask you to prom,” he quipped.

Elle only sighed, turning the page in her book. “You know the deal, Jay— I can’t go if my sister doesn’t go.”

“Good thing she will.”

That got Elle to tear her eyes away from cell biology so she could look at the senior beside her. “Since when?!” she gasped.

“Let’s just say,” Jason purred, scooting closer to her, “I’m taking care of it.”

Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek as Jason rambled about the money he’d just handed him. “That’ll cover flowers, limo, tux, the whole enchilada. I don’t care what you do, just make sure she gets to the prom.”

Eddie suddenly handed the money back. “You know what? I’m sick of being a pawn in your little game, okay?”

Jason scoffed at the money. “Then make it two hundred,” he decided, summing another bill to add onto the small pile in Eddie’s palm.

Hesitating, and then sneering, Eddie stuffed it into his pocket. The money felt like it would burn a hole through the denim if he left it there too long— he went to the music store first, wondering if he should spent it; wondering if he should try to talk to you instead of just watching you play around on a bass you’d borrowed from the wall of instruments.

In a moment entirely out of character for him, Eddie just couldn’t muster up the courage to do it, to tap you on the shoulder and get your attention. He could stand on tables in the cafeteria and make a fool of himself playing at the Hideout for whatever crowd of drunks accidentally stayed for Corroded Coffin’s show, but he couldn’t just… say hi to you. You just looked so at peace sitting there on the amp, rocking your head between the big headphones that dwarfed your face; he was happier just watching you play for a few minutes, leaving before you opened your eyes and noticed him.

He watched you from between the stacks at the bookstore, too, swallowing as you flipped through Sylvia Plath. What was it that was making him so nervous to approach you all of a sudden? It’s not a crush, is it? No… no, it’s probably my natural aversion to pain.

Just when he was afraid you were about to leave and he would miss his chance, he jumped up from behind Adult Non-fiction and surprised you before you could head for the door. “Excuse me,” he smiled, “have you seen The Feminine Mystique? I lost track of mine.”

You looked appropriately disappointed and unamused, but he was used to that by now. “What are you doing here?” you asked him flatly.

“I heard there was a poetry reading,” he replied, not even trying that hard to sound believable, since you’d never believe it. You knitted your eyebrows together and opened your mouth, apparently searching for the exact words to cut him down.

“Y-you… you’re so…” you started a few times, and Eddie grinned as he realized he’d stumped you for the moment.

“Charming?” he finished for you.

And in a moment entirely out of character for you, you gave up, shaking your head and trying to step past him to walk away. He side-stepped and planted himself in front of you.

“Irresistible,” he offered instead.

“Unavoidable,” you corrected.

“Inevitable,” he agreed with a wink. “Love always is.”

“Love?! Jesus Christ,” you spat, laughing sharply at how absurd it was.

“You do realize you’re not as mean as you think you are, right?” Eddie wondered, following you closely as you kept marching towards the door to leave.

You spun to look at him as you replied, “and you’re not as badass as you think you are.”

“Ooh,” he winced playfully, “someone still has their panties in a twist.”

“Don’t even for a minute worry that you have any effect whatsoever on my panties,” you snapped.

“Then what did I have an effect on?” he encouraged.

“Other than my gag reflex, not much,” you frowned.

“Gag reflex, huh?” he purred, and you grimaced as you rolled your eyes.

“God, you’re barbaric!” you announced as you shoved a book into his chest— The Feminine Mystique, of course— and utilized the moment he spent looking at it to exit the store. He didn’t even really process that you were already gone until he heard the little bell on the door chime, and he sighed.

Eddie just wanted to get his lunch in peace, but those two pipsqueak sophomores flanked him as he moved through the line. “What’s the word?” Mike asked.

“Well, you were right— she’s still pissed,” Eddie replied.

“Sweet love, renew thy force!” Lucas exclaimed, and Eddie made a face at him.

“Don’t say shit like that to me, people can hear you,” Eddie warned him.

“Look,” Mike interjected, “she’s embarrassed! Sacrifice yourself on the altar of dignity and even the score.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie departed the lunch line early— he didn’t want green bean casserole anyways— and left Mike and Lucas to look at each other. “Don’t say shit like that to him,” Lucas soberly instructed Mike, “people can hear you.”

They were right, though, and the next day, he acted on their advice.

You were out on the field with the team, running drills, clearing your head in the only way you knew how. Of course, Eddie couldn’t stay out of your head for long— or out of your way.

You didn’t notice the speakers turning on at first; you heard it, but you didn’t think much of the static buzz of silence. It wasn’t silent for long, though, and everyone turned their heads when they heard an electric guitar begin playing. You looked up in the bleachers, and widened your eyes at the sight of Eddie hopping up into view as he played, a long black cord trailing behind him. The marching band had left some of their equipment up after practice, including the microphone intended for the national anthem singer, and Eddie leaned into it as he began to sing along with his own playing.

“I gotta tell you what I'm feeling inside, I could lie to myself, but it's true—”

“Oh my god, is that—?” you heard a teammate of yours whisper to another, and they were all looking at you suddenly— and so was he.

“There's no denying when I look in your eyes,” he continued to sing, “girl, I'm out of my head over you…”

You turned around when drums and bass began to play as well, from the other side, and you laughed at the sight of the other members of Corroded Coffin— the logo made in tape on the kick-drum was a good sign that that’s who they were.

“And I lived so long believing all love is blind,” Eddie continued, “but everything about you is telling me this time, it’s forever—”

You finally recognized the KISS song and laughed in some impossible combination of disbelief and unsurprise: because of course Eddie would pick a KISS song to serenade you, but oh my god, was he really serenading you right now? In front of everyone?

“This time I know, and there’s no doubt in my mind,” he sang passionately as he played, “forever, until my life is through, girl I’ll be loving you forever…”

The other musicians were singing harmonizing vocals, and your team was staring at you in shock as Eddie pointed at you in a break from his guitar playing; they knew before then that he was singing to you, but apparently even further confirmation continued to blow their minds. You couldn’t believe it either, because, you know… it was you, and this was some kind of modern-fairytale bullshit, and you realized that you only never wanted it because you never thought it could happen. Romantic surprises, sudden music, kisses in the rain? Maybe for other girls— girls like Elle— but never for you.

Except here it was happening to you. “I never thought I’d lay my heart on the line,” Eddie sang into the microphone, “but everything about you is—”

It came to a literal screeching halt, and everyone covered their ears at the feedback from the speakers. Vice Principal Owens apparently didn’t take too kindly to the noise and disruption, as he appeared on the side of the field to chew Eddie out. “What is the meaning of this?!” he yelled, and the drummer bailed first, tossing his sticks and grabbing a hi-hat and tom and making a break for it. As the soccer team cheered and clapped for the performance, Eddie unplugged his guitar and sprinted from the Vice Principal. “That’s school property! That’s school equipment you stole!”

You laughed as the chase began, and Eddie caught your gaze for a second to give you a shrug as he swung the Gremlin over his back and dove off the bleachers.

“I hope you enjoy detention, Munson!” Owens yelled his threatening promise as he shook his fist— obviously incapable of keeping up with a freak on the run.

Coach Hastings stalked the columns of uniform plastic seats-and-desks, eyeing his quarry of quivering detention-goers. A split-second of eye contact with one of them, before the kid jolted and stared down into his lap, made the coach smile somewhat menacingly and approach his desk.

“You look nervous, son,” he noticed with a grin, and the boy hesitantly blinked up at him.

“Yes, sir,” he agreed.

“You’re sweating like a pig,” the coach continued.

“Y-yes, sir,” the student agreed again.

“Your eyes are red! You’ve got pot, don’t you?”

Apparently too scared (and stoned) to deny it, the kid awkwardly pulled a baggy out of his pants pocket and let Hastings snatch it away.

“I’m confiscating this,” he announced as he took it, marching back down the row and snagging a snack bag of Cheetos on his way as well.

Eddie scoffed slightly to himself as he saw it; not exactly a subtle plan, especially to Eddie, whose occupation at the school’s main dealer gave him unique knowledge of the coach’s habit.

He was just preparing to space out for an afternoon of mind-numbing boredom when you came in through the door, and he sat up slightly in surprise.

“Um, sir?” you got the Coach’s attention, meeting him at his desk at the front. “I… have some ideas for practice tomorrow.”

“Now’s not the best time, Miss Hopper,” he replied quickly.

As he turned his back to the class, you made quick eye contact with Eddie to motion to him, pointing towards the window. He sat up further, but tilted his head. “The window!” you mouthed.

When Hastings turned around to look at you again, you played it off with a forced laugh.

“Y-you know, we have that really big game soon against the Paxville Poodles…” you began again, stalling poorly. Eddie quietly got up from his seat, just as Hastings made a move to turn around, and you unthinkingly reached out and grabbed his arm, making him look at you suspiciously. “Your bicep is huge!” you blurted out. “Wow— and look—” you grabbed the other— “this one’s even bigger. You don’t take steroids, do you? Because I’ve heard steroids can cause some shrinking of the, uh, package.”

The other students murmured and snickered to each other as Eddie crept around the back of the room, towards the open window at the front; you repositioned yourself and Mr. Hastings to keep Eddie’s path exactly behind him.

“But I didn’t come here to talk about your package!” you added.

“God, I hope not,” the coach agreed.

Eddie’s next step made a bit of noise— that damn chain on his jeans wasn’t very quiet— but you stopped him from turning to look by talking more. “The point is, they always beat us,” you continued, “and I’ve got this plan to help us win this year!”

“Which is?”

“That… thing you taught us!” you answered chipperly as Eddie kept creeping towards the open window.

“What thing?” Hastings wondered.

“Misdirection.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I taught you that?”

“Yeah! You, o-or, you know, Siegfried and Roy— anyway—”

When he tried to turn his head over his shoulder, you had to reach out and grab his chin to turn his bewildered face towards you.

“They look left, we go right! Bang, we score, we win,” you tilted your head and smiled wide. Panic was setting in because you really thought Eddie would’ve made it out by now— he was close, but not there, and the coach was clearly losing his patience.

“But, how do we make them look left?” he wondered. Eddie was halfway out the window, no looking back now… literally, meaning he didn’t see what you were about to do.

“Uh— like this!”

A rush of adrenaline compelled you to do it— or maybe it came right after you did it, honestly it was all a blur— and you lifted the bottom of your shirt up to your chin. The classroom gasped, the coach’s chin dropped, and you cringed internally as you realized how far you’d gone: but you didn’t regret it, yet. Actually, it was pretty funny, if you thought about it… not that you had exactly thought this through.

Hastings stared at you, dumbstruck and more concerned than aroused, the thoughts of what the hell is wrong with this girl? and oh god, am I gonna lose my job? obvious on his face. The detention attendees began to whoop and holler as you dropped your shirt and Eddie was long-since freed. “Okay!” you said with a thin voice, clearing your throat. “Well, now that you’ve seen… the plan… I’m gonna go… and show the plan to someone else. Okay.”

He said nothing, watching you walk away, and the classroom applauded you on your way out.

“I can’t thank you enough for breaking me out,” Eddie smiled as he paddled the rickety canoe.

“Oh, I do that all the time,” you dismissed jokingly.

“How’d you keep him from seeing me?” he wondered.

You snorted a bit. “I, uh, dazzled him with my… wits.”

Eddie shrugged and looked out at the water on every side, pulling the oars in now that you were stuck in the smackdab middle of Lover’s Lake. “So, what’s your excuse?” he asked suddenly.

“Hm?”

“For acting the way we do.”

You considered that for a second, glancing out over the lake. “Maybe it’s, like, daddy issues— ‘cause I don’t know my biological parents or anything. Elle’s write her letters and stuff but mine don’t want anything to do with me.”

“Okay, maybe it’s that,” he nodded, “or…”

You sighed. “I don't like to do what people expect. Why should I live up to other people’s expectations instead of my own?”

He smiled, clearly proud of himself for getting you to fess up. “So you disappoint them from the start and then you're covered, right?” he suggested, and you shrugged.

“Something like that.”

“Then you fucked it up,” he laughed.

“Huh?” you frowned.

His eyes seemed to sparkle more right before he said it— did he have some way of voluntarily doing that? “You never disappointed me.”

You smiled a bit, but hoped he wouldn’t see that stupid, girlish emotion on your face. “What about you?” you countered quickly. “What’s your damage?”

“Oh, gosh, where to start,” he began, tapping his chin as he looked up and to the right like he was picturing it all, and you laughed. “Daddy’s in prison, mommy’s… god knows where— last I heard she was in Washington?”

“Wait, the state, or D.C.?” you asked.

“I don’t even know!” he chuckled..

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve got no clue where my mom is, either,” you shrugged.

“I know misery allegedly loves company but, no, that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“There were a lot of rumors about what your parents were up to,” you admitted. “Cult and traveling band were both popular.”

“Well, there are a lot of rumors about a lot of things,” he replied, “but they’re all bullshit.”

“So, the state trooper?” you challenged.

“Ridiculous,” he shot it down. “You made out with a chick at a party?”

“Fantasy,” you rolled your eyes. “Of theirs! Not mine— I don’t wanna kiss anyone in public. The duck?”

“Hearsay,” he smirked. “Billy Hargrove’s balls?”

“Well, that one’s actually true,” you admitted, “but he deserved it! He groped me in the lunch line.”

“Ah, don’t tell me that,” Eddie warned, “or I’ll go kick ‘em back up again myself.” He clicked his tongue and tossed his fist as if to demonstrate.

“Why were you held back again? I know the porn career’s a lie.”

“Do you?” he challenged.

You tried not to get too flushed imagining that. You were strictly against porn, on feminist grounds, but… it was an interesting mental image.

He laughed first, then you followed suit. “I missed a lot of classes, yeah, but I don’t have any good excuse. I— to be honest, I have a lot of trouble with reading. It takes me hours, gives me a headache… so I keep failing English. And it’s not like I’m making ‘A’s in anything else…”

You tilted your head as you looked at him. “Eddie, are you dyslexic?”

He raised an eyebrow. “No, I’m bisexual,” he corrected.

“Dyslexia is a learning disorder, it causes difficulty in reading,” you explained.

“Not even gonna react to the bisexual thing, huh?” he pressed.

“Maybe you should see a doctor,” you encouraged.

“No cure for it,” he shook his head.

“For the dyslexia, dumbass!” you snapped, and he laughed.

“Okay, okay, I will,” he promised, “if you go see about getting that stick up your ass surgically removed.”

You rolled your eyes, but you still couldn’t stop a smile from filling your face. “I thought you didn’t mind it.”

“I don’t,” he smiled. “‘Cause I know you’re actually just a hopeless romantic under all that venom.”

You glanced down at the floor of the boat, at Eddie’s Reeboks across from your worn-out Converse. You heard him whisper your name, so you looked up again, and he pulled you into a sudden kiss.

Kissing in a boat on Lover’s Lake— a little on-the-nose, maybe, and another one of those things you never expected to happen to you. You never expected to like it so much, either, but you smiled into it and wrapped your arms around his neck. Pulling you back with him, he fell into the front end of the canoe with you on top of him, kissing you harder.

Unfortunately, you both got a little carried away… and when he tried to roll you onto your back so he could lay above you, it knocked the small boat off-balance and sent you both tumbling into the lake.

You came up with a gasp, and a laugh, as Eddie came back facing the wrong way and yelling your name fearfully— like you’d drowned in the last three seconds. Hearing your laugh, he spun around and put on a self-effacing smile before swimming a little closer and kissing you again. You let him, even though that warm feeling in your chest was just getting hotter until you worried it would burn you up from the inside out; you brushed dripping, limp curls out of his face and grabbed him by the back of the neck to keep him close.

Half-dry from the journey home, Eddie walked beside you up to your front porch. Not exactly wanting to bring in a lake-damp drug dealer, you guided him to sit next to you on the steps, and he seemed to look somewhat reverently out at the surrounding neighborhood. “Beats the trailer park?” you assumed.

“Yeah,” he smiled, “but it’s not as bad as people think it is— I guess neither are we, though.”

“Okay, then tell me the truth,” you requested.

“The truth? I’m afraid of the dark,” he grinned.

“No, something real,” you protested.

“Okay…” he agreed, lowering his voice and leaning in to kiss your neck. “You’re sweet.”

You smiled, and he moved around to kiss the other side, giving you an eyeful of his fringe.

“And sexy,” he added. “And completely hot for me.”

“You’re… very self-assured,” you giggled, “anybody ever told you that?”

“I tell myself every morning,” he agreed with a smile, “part of my daily affirmations.”

Your eyes drifted over his face— over his gentle eyes and soft lips and strong jaw— and you wondered how you never noticed how perfect he was before.

“Go to prom with me,” he said suddenly.

The moment left and you felt a little suspicious. “Um, are you asking me, or telling me?” you wondered with a raised brow.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” he promised.

“No it won’t, it’ll be a circus of patriarchy and the hypersexualization of the American teenager,” you insisted.

“It’ll be fun if you come with me,” he clarified. “I thought you liked doing what nobody expects? The only one who expects you to go to prom is me.”

“Why do you even wanna go to the prom?!” you wondered.

“Maybe I’m more conventional than I look!” he defended. “Maybe I only never went because I never had a beautiful girl to take.”

“I don’t buy it,” you scoffed. “Why are you so insistent on this? What’s in it for you?”

“Do I need to have a reason to want to be with you?”

“You tell me,” you challenged.

“You know something? You need therapy,” he frowned. “Maybe a shrink can help you unpack this inability to accept affection. Were you not hugged as a child or something?”

“Right,” you snapped, “because all my problems are caused by being adopted— I forgot.”

“I didn’t— that’s not what I was saying,” he defended.

“So, what are you saying? If I’m not madly in love with you, something must be wrong with me?”

“I think if you don’t trust me by now—!”

“By now? One kiss and you’re totally trustworthy?” you tilted your head.

“We kissed twice,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, my mistake,” you scoffed, leaving the question of whether the number or the kisses were the mistake hanging in the air. Shaking his head, Eddie pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his vest pocket.

“Damn it, they’re soaked,” he groaned as he opened it.

You snatched it away. “I’ll throw them out for you,” you offered sharply as you stood up and stormed inside, slamming the door behind you.

Max Mayfield startled when she opened her locker, a flood of folded papers spilling out— origami stars. She tilted her head as she knelt down, picking one up to unfold. Because you’re funnier than people realize, it had written inside in somewhat poor, yet meticulous, handwriting. Wrinkling her eyebrows together, she snagged another from on top of her textbooks. Because you’re the most beautiful when you’re in class, listening and thinking. It was cheesy, but she bit her lip as she imagined who this… extravagant secret admirer might be. About to unfold another, Lucas leaned beside her at the lockers.

“Huh,” he noticed, “wonder who did all this just to ask you to prom.”

As he crossed his arms in front of his chest, she noticed the band-aids around the ends of many of his fingers. “Basketball injury?” she assumed.

“No,” he denied sheepishly, “just, uh, papercuts…”

She smiled as she raised an eyebrow at him. “So, you think this… stalker guy is asking me to prom?” she noticed.

“I— um, I assume,” he shrugged.

“That’s presumptuous of you,” she laughed.

Across the hall, Vickie was emphatically agreeing to Robin’s more tree-friendly prom invite: no letter or origami or notes or anything, just the courage to finally ask, and that was all she had wanted anyways.

All across the school, plans were being made, except for Elle: she had more options than most for her date, yet was forced to choose none because you were still resisting Eddie with what little fight you had left in you.

After catching her glare each time you passed in the hall at school, you decided to attempt a peace offering at home.

You hesitantly knocked on her bedroom door after dinner. “Come in,” she called from the other side, but her annoyance was obvious. Especially when you entered and found her sitting on the bed, reading a book, ignoring you completely.

“Listen,” you sighed, “I know…”

She didn’t shut her book or look up at you. You sat down near her feet and carefully took the book away; she crossed her arms as she finally returned your gaze— though hers was much sharper.

“I know you hate having to sit around at home because I’m not, you know, popular or dating or anything,” you informed her.

“You don’t care,” she rolled her eyes.

“I do care!” you insisted. “But I believe you should do things for your own reasons, not someone else’s.”

“I wish I had that luxury,” Elle snapped, “but I can’t do anything because you don’t want to! You know I was the only sophomore asked to prom? And I can’t go because you’re too uptight and feminist-y to just go out with that Eddie guy.”

You frowned. “How do you know about Eddie?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sixteen, I’m not stupid. And everyone heard about him serenading you on the soccer field anyways.”

Your cheeks warmed at the memory. “Well, that’s not the point. I can go out with him if I want, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to prom.”

“Prom is actually gonna be fun you know, it’s not this horrible institution that you think it is,” Elle promised. “And Jason asked me and—”

“He never told you we went out, did he?” you interrupted, and Elle’s jaw dropped.

“You’re joking, right?” she assumed; you shook your head. “You and Jason?!”

“For a few months, freshman year.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because he’s sooo cute,” you answered with a Valley-girl-voice, but it didn’t do as much to diffuse the tension as you’d hoped.

“You hate him!” Elle noticed.

“I do now.”

“What happened?” she wondered, and you looked away because you thought it might be easier to say it if you weren’t looking right at her. Even if she hated you, you didn’t want your little sister to think of you in the way she might when you admitted it.

“Well…” you trailed off, but she beat you to it.

“No,” she sighed, “you didn’t— you did it?!”

“Once,” you interjected firmly, as if that made it any better. “Just once, because, you know, everyone was doing it. I wanted to be cool— I wanted to feel normal. But afterwards, I told him I didn’t wanna do it anymore because I wasn’t ready. Aaaaand he dumped me.”

Elle blinked at you in bewilderment.

“After that, I decided to never do anything else again just because everyone else was doing it. I haven’t since! Well, except, you know, going to Steve Harrington’s party and getting wasted.”

“How did I not know about this?” Elle wondered. Apparently she confused being popular with being omniscient.

“I warned him that if he told anyone, all the cheerleaders would find out how small his dick is,” you snorted. Elle didn’t seem as amused, though.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she wondered.

“I wanted you to make up your own mind about him,” you replied.

“Then why did you help Daddy keep me hostage here?!”

She got up off the bed and stood, frustration switching to anger, and you wrinkled your eyebrows as well. “Because I wanted to protect you!” you replied.

“By not letting me experience anything?” she countered.

“Not everything is worth experiencing, Elle!” you snapped. “Not everyone can be trusted!”

“I wouldn’t know!” she announced furiously. “You were too busy worrying I’d make the same mistakes as you to let me make my own!”

She stormed out of her own room and left you alone in it with a slam of the door. You sat on the bed for a minute, considering what she’d said. Noticing the picture on her nightstand, you sighed at the shot your dad had taken of the two of you, years ago, in line at Disneyland. She used to think you hung the moon back then… why couldn’t things still be that easy?

You glided down the stairs quickly, holding up the end of your dress, and passed Dad as he watched TV. “Bye, I’m going to prom,” you offered him flippantly as you passed.

“Ha ha, very funny,” he returned flatly. Of course, when he caught you and your outfit in the corner of his eye, he realized you were serious.

Before he could even ask what was going on, you were out the door. He would’ve chased you in search of more information, but he was distracted by Elle marching by next in her sparkly, colorful gown.

“What’s that?” he asked when he saw the midriff-baring garment.

“A prom dress!” she answered joyfully.

“I seem to be hearing that word a lot lately,” he frowned.

The doorbell rang, and Elle scampered across the foyer to answer it. On the other side, Mike was waiting in a suit with a corsage in hand ready to give her— but he stalled when he got a look at her all dolled up (even more than usual). “Wow,” he beamed, “you look… bitchin’.”

She smiled and started to leave with only a wave to her dad, but he crossed his arms. “Stop,” he insisted, and Elle sighed as she froze. “Turn.”

The young couple turned, Mike looking a bit anxious as Elle prepared for the usual.

“Explain,” Hopper demanded.

“Well, you know how you said I could date if my lovely, wonderful big sister dated?” she batted her eyelashes. “Turns out she found this guy who’s sort of perfect for her, which is sort of perfect for me, because Mike invited me to the prom—” she squeezed her date’s hand for emphasis— “and I really wanna go and I’m technically allowed since she’s going, and I know you’re a man of your word so you’ll stick to the rule you made. Right?”

There was a heavy pause; Mike extended his hand to the Chief politely. “Nice to meet you,” he greeted.

Elle took his hand instead and guided him out the front door. Powerless, Hopper stepped up to the open doorway and watched them run to the waiting limousine together. “Back by eleven, you hear me?” he called out. “One minute past and the entire police department will be looking for you!”

They got in the car and drove off as he watched with a sigh.

You’d sort of been expecting Eddie to wear a t-shirt with a tuxedo pattern printed on it… maybe that’s what everyone expected of him. But he was wearing a real one, in a dark cranberry color that seemed to bring out that little bit of hazel in his deep brown eyes.

It was stupid how easily his one simple glance over your body could make you fight the urge to blush. You knew you looked good, you actually felt good, but it was different to see Eddie acknowledge it. “Wow,” he offered with a wide smile.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “uh, you too.”

He handed you a rose before you hooked your arm in his to walk inside to the decorated gymnasium.

“Where’d you get a tux?” you wondered.

“Wayne had one,” Eddie shrugged.

“Really?” you pressed, and Eddie laughed.

“Hell no, he couldn’t even help me with my tie! I… had a friend help me get this,” Eddie admitted, internally disgusted with himself for referring to Jason Carver as a friend. Then again, he was disgusted with himself for doing this for Jason’s benefit at all, but at least there was a real benefit for himself, too: the only girl he’d ever really fallen for walking arm-in-arm with him to prom. “Where’d you get the dress?” he wondered.

“Oh, um,” you blinked quickly, “I guess I really was a hopeless romantic deep down after all… ‘cause I had a nice dress in the back of my closet, just in case someone ever wanted to see me in it.”

There was a little moment of pause as Eddie imagined you saving a dress like this for someone special, hardly believing it was him.

“Listen, I shouldn’t have questioned your motives for asking me out,” you blurted out suddenly. “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

He’d never seen you so… humbled? And it made his heart twist. “Don’t sweat it,” he encouraged, “you’re here with me now— that’s all that matters.”

Jason was already wearing his tux— and a sparkling-white smile— as your father opened the door. “Hello, Mr. Hopper,” he offered charmingly, even though anyone with half a brain knows to call him Chief Hopper. “I’m here to pick up Elle for the prom?”

Saying nothing, the Chief shut the door as suddenly as he’d opened it.

As you walked in to the room, dancing and general merriment in every direction, you caught Elle and Mike dancing cheek-to-cheek not too far off— and your sister offered you a quick wave and a gentler smile than you’d seen on her (directed at you, at least) in years.

Robin and Vickie, as always, were dancing to the beat of their own song, ignorant and uncaring to the judgment of others; Lucas guided Max to the dance floor, and you were one of many who noticed how good the unlikely pair looked together.

You were so caught up in it that you almost didn’t notice the music changing to another song— your favorite song. Eddie nudged you with his elbow and pointed at the stage, where the band from Club Nina joined the musicians already playing, and you gasped. “Oh my god!” you choked. “It’s—!”

“I had a friend help me with that, too,” Eddie grinned at you, drinking in your ecstatic excitement. You looked like a kid in a candy store as the lead singer waved at you; first humbled, then unabashedly joyful… so many new emotions that Eddie wasn’t used to seeing you show, but he liked this one so far. He liked how beautiful you were when you let yourself be openly happy— it reminded him of the way you looked dancing to this song at that club all those weeks ago. He hadn’t just been putting on the moves, he really thought you looked sexy when you let go and enjoyed yourself. And now you looked that way again, but you were dancing with him. You looked, and felt, freer than ever.

Elle was on her way to freshen up in the girls’ room— because the last thing she needed now was a lifting false lash with everything else going so perfectly— when Andy and Patrick stopped her. “Woah, hey,” Andy said as he grabbed her shoulder, “what’s going on?”

“What?” she wondered.

“Where’s Jason?” they pressed.

“I dunno, probably off somewhere picking his nose?” she replied sarcastically.

“Oh my god,” Patrick laughed. “I knew he couldn’t do it!”

“Huh?” she asked.

“He was so sure he could pop your cherry tonight,” Andy explained, bemused, “but he was full of shit— as per usual.”

Elle stepped back. “What a creep!” she spat, but they weren’t even paying attention anymore, just chuckling to each other about how they wouldn’t let their team captain live this one down for a while.

As for Jason, he wasn’t too far away after all— he was angrily storming through the dancing crowd towards you and Eddie. “Hey, freak!” he yelped just before grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him aside, though not quite far enough away. “What’s Elle doing here with that pipsqueak?! I didn’t pay you to take out her sister just so some little weirdo could get with her instead.”

Eddie whipped his head around, praying to whatever deity would listen that you hadn’t heard, but it only took a split-second to see the look in your eyes. And there was a third emotion he’d never seen on you before: real heartbreak. No anger, no rage, just devastation.

“Wait,” he pleaded as you began to walk away.

“I can’t believe I was right about you,” you replied with a shake of your head, “the first time.”

Jason let Eddie go to unsuccessfully chase after you; he was disinterested in the Freak versus Bitch drama unfolding once again, much more focused on getting back at Mike Wheeler for screwing him over.

Lucas tried to intercept him, but he got shoved roughly to the ground on the way to Mike. “You messed with the wrong guy,” Jason informed him with a sneer, “and now you’re so done. You and that prissy bitch.”

“Watch what you say about her,” Mike warned angrily, but Jason wasn’t exactly intimidated— in fact, he almost looked amused right before his fist collided with the sophomore’s face. Mike crumpled to the ground, not exactly a match for Jason’s strength… but then again, neither was Elle, and she was the one who swung back— right in the nose.

“That’s for making my boyfriend bleed!” she explained as he clutched his face. “That’s for my sister,” she added as she kneed him in the gut, “and this… is for me.”

A swift kick to the crotch sent him to the ground, and Elle stepped over him to offer a hand to Mike. He took it, looking up at her in awe as she helped him stand again. “Uh, boyfriend?” he noticed.

It was the kind of move you would’ve been proud of, if you were there to see it; apparently ball-kicking ran in the Hopper family, and not just in the soccer sense.

“Please, let me explain,” Eddie begged as he chased you out of the gym.

“I think it’s pretty self-explanatory!” you returned sharply. “It was all a set-up, by fucking Jason! I should’ve known it was too…”

Too good to be true. You couldn’t admit that, you’d already given away so much. “It wasn’t— that was just how it started!” Eddie promised. “But I really fell for you.”

“Yeah? Funny what money can do to a person.”

“I never cared about the money!” he insisted, and when you spun around to challenge that, he grabbed your shoulders. “I only cared about you.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” you sneered, and he did want to show you— he wanted to wipe that all-too-familiar look off your face and go back to how things were. He kissed you, hard and forceful, but you pushed him off with a whine. “I hate you!” you spat as you managed to fight him off— not that he was trying that hard to force you to stay, he knew that was wrong… though he wished he could. He wished he could hug you tight enough to keep you here until you would listen, but you were too stubborn for it to work anyways. It was that stubbornness that made him resent you in the beginning, then it was one of the things he fell for— and now it was the reason you were walking away, and he was just watching you go, unwilling to hurt you anymore.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna come?” Elle asked again, pityingly, as Mike held her hand. You shook your head. “Okay, well, we’ll miss you.”

It was sweet, but it was a lie; a young couple didn’t want you chaperoning their movie date. Lies can be so sweet that way, the best ones usually are. You watched them walk together down the sidewalk, knowing it wouldn’t cheer you up to go with them. “Is she gonna be okay?” Mike whispered to his girlfriend, though not quietly enough.

“I hope so,” Elle replied softly.

As they left, your dad appeared and sat next to you on the steps, groaning as his older joints made it a bit more of a task. “Where’s she going?” he wondered.

“To meet a bunch of bikers,” you offered quickly. “Big ones… full of sperm.”

“Not funny,” Hopper frowned. You gave him a look, and he smiled slightly. “A little funny.”

It still wasn’t enough to make you smile back, and you looked forward at the houses across the street again.

“So… the dance,” he remembered, “was it groovy?”

Even that couldn’t make you crack a smirk, though you wanted to. “Some parts…”

“Which parts?” he wondered.

“The part where Elle beat the crap out of some loser,” you recalled— the stories around school were already glorious. You were pretty sure the rumor that she pulled some Karate Kid moves and spin-kicked him in the face was just a rumor, but you liked picturing it anyways.

“Elle did what?” he gasped.

“What, are you afraid she’s taking after me?” you challenged.

“No,” he answered quickly, “I’m impressed.”

You looked at him again, soaking in that all-too-rare approval. It’s not that he wasn’t affectionate… well, he wasn’t, but it was only because he had trouble expressing himself. It made his eloquence going forward even more unexpected.

“You know, fathers don’t like to admit when their daughters become capable of running their own lives,” he explained. “It means we’re obsolete… we’re spectators. Elle still lets me play a few innings— you’ve had me on the bench for years— and when you go to Sarah Lawrence, I won’t even be able to watch the game.”

You were about to complain about the baseball metaphor until you realized what he was really saying. “When I go?” you repeated excitedly.

“Don’t tell me you changed your mind now! I already sent them a check,” he answered with a slightly mischievous smile. Exclaiming in joy, you threw yourself on him for a tight hug.

“I assume you’ve all prepared your sonnets for today?” Ms. O’Donnell looked over the room. She frowned when she saw Jason sinking into his chair. “Mr. Carver?”

“Uh… I, uh, have a doctor’s note,” he explained.

“Oh— well, regardless, sunglasses are not permitted indoors,” she reminded him.

Sighing, he took the aviators off, and the class snickered at the sight of two black eyes on either side of his bandaged nose.

“Would anyone else like to read theirs for us?” she encouraged, and you waited a second before raising your hand.

That seemed to surprise everyone— most of all Eddie, who lifted his head from where it had been resting on his desk. Some of your classmates assumed the worst— here we go and time for a feminist lecture that rhymes and all that— but some seemed to sense what was really coming. Ms. O’Donnell, pleasantly surprised, stepped aside to let you come stand at the front.

You opened your notebook and did your best not to look at everyone looking at you.

Clearing your throat, you began. “I hate the way you talk to me,” you read aloud, “and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.”

Your reading was particularly flat and unemotional, just hoping to get this over with, yet at the same time, so many emotions were flooding you inside.

“I hate your stupid white Reeboks, and the way you read my mind— I hate you so much it make me sick, it even makes me rhyme.”

You spared one half-second glance up, and even just in your peripheral you saw Eddie’s face, and you had to fight getting choked up.

“I hate… I hate the way you’re always right, I hate it when you lie,” you whimpered, voice breaking, “I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when— when you make me cry.”

As a hot tear crossed your cheek, you fought the instinct to defiantly wipe it away— for once, you wanted to feel this, and you wanted to be seen even at your most vulnerable.

“I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call,” you continued, approaching the end. “But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you; not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”

The way Eddie was looking at you was just too much; the way everyone was looking at you was just too much. You stormed out of the class, leaving them in stunned silence, crying harder as you ran down the hall.

Your face was dry by the time you got to your car; maybe you’d let Eddie play with your heart and invade your mind and cry way too much, but you decided that was over now— no more tears over boys. Especially dumbass, annoying, sexy, horrible, gorgeous boys who play you for a fool and have the audacity to fall for you in the process.

You were about you open your driver’s side door when you saw the sparkling white resin in the front seat, and you bent down, greeted by the Fender Stratocaster you’d been eying resting in your seat.

Reaching in through the open window, you pulled it out delicately and inspected it like it was magic— because maybe it was.

“Nice, huh?”

Eddie’s voice behind you made you jump and spin, and he smiled at you expectantly as he shoved his hands in his pockets and tilted back on his heels for a second. “A Fender Strat?” you noticed. “Is this— is this mine?”

“I figured you could use it,” he shrugged, “when you start your band. Or join mine.”

You smiled slowly as you looked at it again, and then back at him.

“Besides, I had some extra cash,” he explained. “Some jerk paid me to take out this amazing girl…”

“Yeah?” you smirked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “but, uh, I kinda fucked it up. ‘Cause I totally fell for her.”

You loved the way he looked with a flush tinting his cheeks. “Really?” you pressed.

“Of course,” he grinned. “Very rare to find a girl who’ll flash someone to break you out of detention.”

It was your turn to feel your face warm, then, wondering how long ago he found out about that. Dropping your forehead into one of your hands in embarrassment, you laughed shamefully at the memory, hardly believing you’d done something so impulsive. As risky as it was, you actually kind of liked the person you were when you were with Eddie.

With a gentle grip on your wrist he moved your hand away from your face, the other tilting up your chin so he could kiss you. You let him, for a moment, but before you could properly melt into him you carefully pushed him back by his shoulders.

“You know you can’t just buy me a guitar whenever you screw up, right?” you asked.

“I know,” he agreed, “but hey! There’s always drums, bass, tambourine… triangle…”

You snorted your laugh and he kissed you again. You pushed him away again. “And don’t just think you can—”

He kissed you again, a little harder, and you gave in to it willingly.

Yeah, all that cheesy romance stuff? Sappy poems, public serenading, making out in front of everyone as the bell rang and the day ended? Turns out it really can happen for a girl like you. It can happen for a guy like Eddie, too; neither of you expected it to, but it did. And as you spent the rest of your senior year getting to know him better, you found a lot more things about Eddie Munson that you would've hated if you learned them before— but they only made you love him more instead.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #10 things I hate about you #mileven #lumax #rovickie #stranger things fanfiction #AMidsummerNightsWritingChallenge

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fangirl-writes · 5 months

Text

Doppelgänger

Benny Weir x Fem!Reader

MBAV Masterlist

Warning(s): near-death, canon-level violence

Request: can be found here.

Notes: This is a mix of multiple things that we’ve seen in MBAV episodes while also stealing a little bit of plot from the Vampire Diaries. Hope you like it!

PS: I kinda want to make this into a full fledged fic because I had so many ideas that were hard to package into a one-shot but we’ll see if I ever actually do that.

Summary: A doppelganger traps you in a mirror dimension and slowly sucks the life out of you so it can take your place. Will Benny and friends save you in time? (yes obviously, but the suspense)

You stare across the room, into the only window in the otherwise dark room, the yellow glow of it staring back at you.

It was a tragic way to die, in a place without light, where your loved ones would never find you. All the while a cheap copy of you wandered freely, fooling your friends and your Benny.

Benny. Would you ever get to see him again?

Perhaps you’d get lucky and he would peer into the mirror so his eyes would be the last thing you saw before the life finished draining from you.

He’d probably feel so guilty, think it was all his fault.

But it wasn’t.

If there was anyone to blame, it was the vampire who seemed a regular bane to the existence of White Chapel and its inhabitants.

Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

In the school’s theater, in a dressing room we’ve seen before, lies a cracked mirror that once held the spirit of Olivia Frye. And while her spirit no longer posses it, that doesn’t mean the magic of the mirror is gone.

The vanity lights flicker on in the otherwise dark room, illuminating the pale face and blue eyes of Jesse Black.

Reaching into his pocket, Jesse pulls out Benny’s spellbook.

He opens it on a marked page, running his fingers across the paper before reading aloud: “Zacaroth Maznacaroth. Dimitte hunc spiritum e carcere, ut iterum vivant.”

As he reads, the mirror begins to repair itself, the cracks sealing up. But as they are doing so, a mist also starts to leak from the glass.

A grin spreads across Jesse’s lips and he chuckles darkly. “Welcome back, my dear.”

Before him stands the ghostly figure of who appears to be you, but she’s faded, missing the color in her body that signifies life. Except for her eyes that shine the same unnatural blue as Jesse’s.

The following morning, you, Ethan, and Benny are walking down the hallway of White Chapel High as Benny searches in vain for his spellbook.

“Are you sure you didn’t accidentally make it vanish again?” Ethan asks.

“No, it was in here last night I swear,” Benny says before groaning and angrily throwing his bag closed. “The one day I wanted to make Ms. Fine forget about our essays and the thing disappears! It’s like it knows when I’m using it for evil. You think my grandma put a spell on it?”

“If she was gonna do that, she’d have done it long before now,” Ethan replies.

“You know, if you started memorizing your spells like you talk about, this wouldn’t be a problem,” You say.

“And if you had agreed to strip studying I would have tried,”

“Okay, gross,” Ethan says, pulling a face.

“Y/N.”

You perk your head up, looking around the hallway for whoever said your name, finding no one in a sea of faces.

“Y/N.”

You turn around, following the voice but still seeing no one.

“Hey.”

You jump as Benny’s hand touches your shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

You let out a breath and smile at him. “Yeah, I just thought I heard someone call my name. It’s probably nothing.”

Benny nods and pulls you closer to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as you continue your trail to your lockers.

The voices persisted as the day went on, bothering you in class and at lunch, making you feel scared and crazy. Not to mention incredibly distracted.

It made it hard to focus on math or science and especially English where you were meant to be reading Shakespeare and reviewing essays.

“Ms. L/N.”

Ms. Fine startles you out of your stupor and you hurriedly hand her your rough draft, printed and stapled together.

“Are you feeling alright?” She asks and you make a quick decision.

“Actually, I’m feeling a little sick. Can I be excused for the nurses office?”

“Sure. But hurry back.”

You nod and gather your things, exchanging a glance with Benny and Ethan each before leaving.

You really did plan to go to the nurses office until you could talk to your friends, but that damn voice started bothering you again. And in an otherwise empty hallway, it was hard to ignore.

“Y/N.”

“Oh, I’m gonna regret this,” you mumble before heading in the direction of the voice.

You follow it all the way to the theater, which is dark except for the light coming from one of the dressing rooms.

“Please don’t be a ghost,” you whisper to yourself. “Or a vampire, werewolf, ghoul, zombie, whatever. Let me be having a psychotic break because of stress and this voice isn’t real.”

You cautiously peak into the room...and find nothing.

The room is empty except for the vanity and chair. And the voice has gone quiet.

Shaking your head, you walk into the room and sit down in the chair. “Maybe I am going crazy.”

Your a little startled by your reflection, which is pale even under the warm lighting.

“...or maybe I’m actually sick.”

You press a hand to your face, checking for a temperature, watching as your reflection does the same.

Letting your hand drop, you observe the mirror more closely, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Wait a minute, wasn’t this mirror-”

You let out a scream as your reflection surges forward and pulls you into the mirror before jumping out in your place.

You collapse on a cold floor, hurriedly standing back up and rushing toward the mirror’s opening but your reflection holds out a hand, causing the mirror to seal back up and trap you inside.

“Sorry,” she says. “But I can’t have two of us running around to ruin my plans.”

You bang on the glass. “Hey! Stop! Let me out!”

But she’s already gone, leaving the room and shutting the door, enveloping you in darkness.

“Didn’t you see the look on her face?” Benny asks. “Something’s wrong.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Ethan replies. “It’s probably just a headache. You know how too much supernatural stuff gets to her sometimes.”

“Yeah, but this was different. She’s been hearing voices all day. I’m starting to worry this is something bad.”

Benny pushes open the door to the nurse’s office, expecting to find you laying there but instead the small bed was empty.

“Can I help you boys?” The nurse asks from her desk.

“Uh, sorry, but did Y/N L/N come in here earlier?”

“No, I haven’t seen her in here today.”

Benny feels a pit in his stomach. “Right, thank you.”

He closes the door and exchanges a look with Ethan. “She didn’t come back to class and she didn’t come here. So where is she?”

Ethan looks a little more worried now. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Rory says.

Not-you turns to look at him and Rory is taken aback.

“You okay? You’re paler than usual. Did you get bitten by a vampire? Attacked by an abominable snowman? Possessed by a ghost?”

Not-you smiles. “Oh, no, I’m actually an ancient doppelgänger who just looks like Y/N.”

Rory’s eye go wide. “Woah, really? That’s so cool. But...why’re you telling me?”

Not-you pats him on the head. “Cause you’re not smart enough to try and stop me.”

“Oh. Yeah that’s fair. Where’re you off to anyway?”

Not-you hums. “I’m smart enough not to tell you that.”

“Oh, great,” you mumble, watching as your battery drops another percentage, but the bars never move from zero.

How are you supposed to call for help?

It’s chilling, sitting in the dark with nothing but your phone for light. Your eyes can’t even adjust to the darkness because there’s nothing to see; you’re in a void.

A headache is slowly making itself known and you can’t be sure if its from staring at your phone screen or because a doppelgänger trapped you in a mirror.

The supernatural always has a way of giving you a headache. Doesn’t matter what it is.

Ethan can hardly touch you because if he has a vision, you’ll have a migraine for the rest of the week. If Erica, Sarah, or Rory use their superspeed around you, you’ll nearly faint.

Benny’s the only one who can use his powers and not effect you. You aren’t sure why.

He likes to joke that it’s because your soulmates.

“I don’t know, E, I just have a bad feeling about this,” Benny says. “Sarah! Have you seen Y/N?”

Sarah, who was just putting her bag on her shoulder at her locker, turns to the boys. “No, is she missing?”

“Yeah we haven’t seen her since English and Benny’s freaking out,” Ethan replies.

“Aw, does Benny miss his girlfriend?”

“No, I mean yes, but that’s not what I’m worried about. She’s been hearing voices all day, what if something spooky got her?”

Sarah smiled. “Benny, if something spooky was happening we would surely know by now. Ethan would’ve had a vision or Rory would pop in with some information he doesn’t realize is important.”

As if on cue, Rory appears. “Heard my name!”

“Perfect,” Benny says. “Okay, Rory, give us some of that sweet sweet information. Have you seen Y/N?”

Rory’s eyebrows furrow. “Well, yeah, but she said it wasn’t really her. She said she was an ancient doppelgänger who just looks like Y/N.”

Benny gestures wildly. “You guys concerned now?!”

“Okay, yeah, maybe,” Ethan replies. “Did she say what she was doing or where she was going?”

Rory shakes his head. “No, she said she was too smart to tell me.”

“Curses,” Benny says. “They’re starting to figure out our tricks. Come on, I need to find my spellbook to track her.”

Ethan, Benny, and Sarah hurry off, leaving Rory behind.

“You’re welcome,” he says, miffed that they disregarded him.

“Ah, nice to see you in the flesh again,” Jesse says, tossing some popcorn in his mouth.

“I see you’re still fond of the theater where your plans were ruined,” Not-you replies, eyeing the room.

“I’m a sentimental guy,” he says. “And with you, my plans can’t be ruined again.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. My doppelgänger might be a mortal but she has the same power I do, under the surface.”

“Don’t tell me your afraid?”

“Not afraid. Just cautious,” Not-you says. “Arrogance is what got you defeated the first time. I won’t make the same mistake of underestimating them.”

Jesse stands up and walks over to Not-you, grabbing her arm. “Starting to get some flesh back, I see.”

“Swapping places with Y/N has helped immensely. Give it a few more hours and I’ll be back to full strength.”

“And Y/N?”

“Collateral damage.”

Jesse smiles. “Then we don’t need to underestimate them. We can destroy them.”

Meanwhile, Benny, Ethan, and Sarah are tearing apart Benny’s room, trying to find his spellbook.

“Goodness me, what’s going on in here?”

“Grandma!” Benny exclaims, popping out from under his bed. “Have you seen my spellbook?”

“No. Don’t tell me you’ve lost it, Benny, you know how dangerous that is,” she replies.

“I know, I know, but lecture me later, we have to find Y/N.”

“Y/N is missing?”

“Yeah,” Sarah says. “She was switched with a doppelgänger.”

Evelyn purses her lips. “Circe.”

“Who?” Ethan asks.

“Circe,” Evelyn repeats. “She’s an old witch who caused quite the ruckus in White Chapel. Reverend Black tried to have her burnt at the stake but considering that he turned out to be a vampire I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s resurrected her somehow.”

Benny gasps. “With my spellbook!”

“Follow me,” Evelyn says, leading the group of them to her basement where she digs through a box for a leather bound book.

“Ah!” She says. “Here it is.”

She flips it open, going through the pages before stopping on one. “Here she is.”

“Woah,” Ethan says. “She really does look like Y/N.”

“Doppelgängers were created by nature after ancient beings defied their laws by creating immortality. Circe must’ve tried to make herself immortal, causing the doppel curse,” Evelyn explains.

You’re starting to feel horrible. Your body getting heavier and heavier, a weight on your chest growing.

It wasn’t like the usual anxiety or claustrophobia you’ve experienced before. No, this felt like your soul was slowly being sucked from your body.

Is this it? you think. Is this really how I’m going to go out?

You raise your phone, the bars still empty and the battery too low for comfort.

“God,” you mumble.

Jesse pulls the Cubile Animus from his pocket. “This is what we’ll use to capture the souls.”

Circe raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that thing going to be able to hold all the supernatural souls? They’re more powerful than human souls.”

“Well, if you happen to have another soul-holder laying around, you just let me know,” Jesse says, scowling at her.

“I’m just saying, maybe you should’ve done some research before you set this plan into motion.”

“It’s going to work.” Jesse snaps, getting into Circe’s face.

“All right, if you say so,” she replies, lifting a magical hand, glowing gold, and pressing it against the box.

You gasp, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline and your eyes flicker a gold that makes its way down your face, arms, and into your phone, causing it to call Benny.

“If Circe has taken Y/N’s place you need to find her fast. The longer Circe stays in her place, the more of Y/N’s lifeforce she takes,” Evelyn says. “She could die.”

As if on cue, Benny’s phone rings.

He scrambles to check it, Y/N’s name glowing on the screen. “Oh my god.”

He answers it. “Y/N? Where are you, baby?”

“Benny...” your voice is faint and quiet. “...mirror...”

“Mirror? I don’t know what that means, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

The urgency in his voice is obvious and you’re trying your best.

“At- at school...the mirror...”

“A mirror at school? The mirror at school?”

“Olivia Frye’s mirror!” Ethan says with a snap of his fingers. “In the theater.”

“Y/N, babe, is that right? You’re in Olivia’s mirror?”

“..yes.”

“Great, let’s go,” Sarah says.

“Be careful!” Evelyn replies as they go.

“Y/N, stay on the phone with me, okay?”

You groan. “Benny, I’m so tired...”

They throw themselves into Grandma’s car, Sarah driving.

"No, no, baby girl, stay awake for me,” Benny pleads, hearing your breathing become labored.

“Benny...” you whisper out one last time before the phone goes dead.

“Y/N? Y/N! Y/N, baby, please- god dang it!” Benny throws his phone down.

“It’s okay, Benny, we’ll find her,” Ethan says. “She’s gonna be fine.”

“I hope so, E, I really hope so.”

"Do it now,” Jesse demands.

Circe’s eyes glow gold and she whispers an incantation.

Meanwhile, Erica and Rory are out looking for a midnight snack.

“Are you sure we should be out here?” Rory asks. “Sarah said there’s a powerful witch out here somewhere. And that she’s working with Jesse.”

“What’s Jesse got against us?” Erica replies. “If anything he should be thanking us for being his only turns that survived. Natural selection in my opinion.”

Suddenly, her body goes rigid and a glowing, white mist flows out of her mouth and shoots off. Her body collapses to the ground.

“Erica?” Rory asks, nervously, leaning down next to her.

Erica’s soul finds its way into the Cubile Animus and Jesse smiles.

Rory’s body follows ensuite of Erica’s, going still and his soul being taken from his body.

And now we’re caught up. You’re dying in unimaginable darkness, weeping. Wishing with all your might that they find you. That you’ll see your friends and Benny again.

Luckily for you, they burst through the door.

Ethan, Benny, and Sarah are to the mirror in no time, Benny’s hand pressing against the glass.

“Y/N! Come take my hand, please!”

“I-I can’t,” you cry, tears rolling down your cheeks as you look at him, his eyes worried, scared even.

“Yes, you can!” He replies. “I won’t let you die! You’re so close, Y/N, just come take my hand.”

It’s hard, and it hurts, but you move.

You crawl, sobbing, towards him.

Benny’s own tears are threatening to spill over as he listens to you crying.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please, I love you.”

You reach up. And take his hand.

Feeling your grip, Benny pulls.

Your body comes tumbling out of the mirror and into Benny, who immediately hold you close, whispering “oh my god” over and over.

You’re shaking, still crying. You’re thin, pale, and weak.

“Y/N,” Sarah says softly. “Do you know where the doppelganger is?”

You close your eyes, focusing. “The theater,” you whisper. “They’re at the theater.”

More souls are being sucked into the box: Kurt Lockner’s, David Stachowski’s, all the vampire nurses.

Evelyn, knowing - or rather feeling - what’s happening, sits in her rocking chair and mumbles a counter spell that will keep her soul inside her body.

Circe growls. “Let go, Evelyn. I’ll get your soul if it kills you.”

“Not a chance.” Evelyn replies.

Sarah hits the breaks hard, putting the car in park and jumping out of the car, Ethan following closely.

“Y/N, stay here, okay?” Benny instructs.

You nod, closing your eyes and lying down.

“Hey!” Sarah kicks open the door to the theater. “Having a party without me?”

“Sarah!” Jesse says. “Glad you can join us. Just in time for Circe to take your soul.”

“Oh yeah? Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” Circe replies, turning to Sarah with glowing gold eyes.

It strikes her then how nearly exactly she looks to you.

“So your the witch who’s stealing my girlfriend’s soul!” Benny shouts.

Circe smiles. “I’m a much better model, don’t you think?”

“Not a chance, honey.”

“Jesse, I’m busy. Take care of them, won’t you?” Circe says. “Your grandmother can’t hold on forever, Benny.”

“What?” Benny cries, becoming angry. He shouts a spell, hurling it in Circe’s direction, who waves it off easily.

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

“Come on, Sarah,” Jesse says. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we? What makes you think you’ll win this time?”

“This!” Ethan yells, shooting Jesse in the face with holy water.

Jesse screams.

“Literally never go anywhere without this. We’re smarter this time, don’t you know?”

“I don’t think you nerds have the capacity,” Jesse says, wiping the burning liquid off his face with his sleeve.

Sarah attacks him and Ethan gasps, being overcome with a vision. It’s a vision of Benny’s grandma and Jane chanting the same words she used to defeat Jesse the first time.

When he comes back to, he shouts, “Benny! Your grandma’s spell! The first one!”

The pieces clicking in his head, Benny chants those same words and watches as a bolt of lighting appears and hits Circe in the chest. She cries out, dropping the box that Benny scoops up.

“Hey, Jesse,” Benny says.

Jesse stops, Sarah’s neck in his hand, and looks at Benny.

“This look familiar?”

He opens the box, releasing the souls inside.

Jesse screams, dropping Sarah and running off.

“You coward!” Circe yells. “Coward! AH!”

The souls attack Circe, slowly pulling Y/N’s soul out of her body.

Once it’s out, Circe drops to the ground and fades away in a fog.

Breathing heavily, the three left watch as Y/N’s soul shoots off, presumably back to Y/N’s body.

“We really need to destroy this thing,” Benny says, tossing the box in the air and catching it again.

Erica and Rory burst through the doors, fangs bared, ready for a fight.

“Aw, man, did we miss it again?” Rory asks.

“Yeah, sorry, Ror,” Ethan replies.

“Ugh. I’ve been waiting to tear Jesse a new one for like, ever,” Erica says.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get your chance,” Sarah says.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Benny says, shoving the box into Ethan’s hands and running out to the car, the others following.

You’re still sleeping, and breathing, thankfully. But your color isn’t back to normal, neither is your weight.

So, they take you to Evelyn.

“Her body isn’t used to magic,” she explains as Erica and Sarah set you gently onto Benny’s bed. “It’s going to take a while for her to naturally heal. But, if a few powerful magicians were to try to speed things along...”

“We can do that?” Benny asks, hopefully.

Evelyn grabs his shoulders. “We can try.”

They hold hands over your body, shutting their eyes and chanting “Extende in desiderium cordis mei; Sana hoc vulnus cum virtute ignis. Aufer aegritudinem et dolorem; Sanatio est quod offero.”

Your body glows, color coming back to you and your weight returning to its normal size, but you don’t wake up.

“Did it work?” Benny asks. “Why is she still asleep?”

“Even healing magic takes time,” Evelyn explains. “Give her a little bit.”

She pats him lightly and leaves the room, leaving Benny alone with you.

“God, I really thought I was going to lose you,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.

The time stretches on as he waits for you to wake up and he eventually nods off.

Which is when you decide to wake up.

You smile as you see him lying next to you and lean over to kiss his cheek.

He shoots awake immediately, practically tackling you in a hug. “Thank god!”

You laugh. “Thanks for saving me.”

“Always,” he replies. “Always.”

#benny weir x reader #benny weir imagine #mbav imagine #mbav x reader

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dianawinchester03 · 1 month

Text

Season 1, Episode 4 - Phantom Traveler

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

Y/N and Dean are currently asleep. On separate beds of course, in the three bedded motel room. Half asleep, both facing each other on their respective beds, they hear the door start to unlock, instantly jumping into hunters instinct, they go to grab their weapons from below their pillows upon hearing footsteps and the door locking.

"Morning Sunshines" Sam's voice is ridden with humor. Y/N groans from being woken up. "What time is it?" Dean asks, his voice croaky. "It's about 5:45" Sam says. Y/N gets up slowly, turning her head to Sam who has three coffees in his hand. "In the morning?" She groans, throwing her covers from over her, sitting up and stretching.

"Yep" Sam says, confirming. "Where does the day go?" Dean asks rhetorically, getting up also. Y/N looks at Sam properly, seeing a tired expression on his face, "Did you get any sleep last night?" Y/N asks Sam, her voice filled with concern, as she tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Her bed head in a mess.

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours" Sam lies and Dean picks up on this. "Liar" he grumbles back almost immediately. "I was up at 3, and you were watching George Foreman informercial, while Ms. Nicotine over here was snoring her lungs away" Dean says sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Snickering, he points to Y/N who is now by an open window, sitting on the still, one leg crossed over the other, in the middle of lighting cigarette.

She pauses halfway, looking up guiltily, like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. The brothers look back at their friend chuckling. "I do not snore" She huffs, taking a drag. Sam turns back to his brother and sassily remarks. "Hey, what can I? It's riveting TV" He shrugs.

"When's the last time you get a goodnight's sleep?" Y/N asks Sam, flicking some ash into the ashtray. "I don't know. A little while, I guess. It's not a big deal" Sam tries to say casually but he talked quickly so they knew he was lying. "Yeah, it is" Dean says firmly. But Sam chuckles, trying to ease the mood. "Look, I appreciate your concern guys— " Sam goes to say but Y/N cuts him off with her usual smartass response.

"Oh I'm not concerned about you. It's your job as my best friend and as Dean's brother to keep our asses alive. So we need you sharp" Y/N says sarcastically and Sam just rolls his eyes nodding. "Seriously, you still having nightmares about Jess?" She asks as she takes her last drag from her cigarette, outing it in the ashtray, getting up to sit back down on her bed.

Sam sighs and takes a seat next to her. "Yeah" he answers honestly, handing a coffee to her and Dean as he talks. "But it's not just her, it's everything. I just forgot, you know, this job. Man it gets to you" Sam stresses. "Well you can't let it, you can't bring it home like that" Dean says nonchalantly sipping his coffee.

Y/N side-eyes Dean while Sam looks at his brother like 'huh'. "Wonderful advice, Shakespeare". Y/N says sarcastically scoffing "So, what, all this, it never keeps you up at night?" Sam asks and Dean shakes his head.

"Never? You're never afraid?" Y/N asks shocked. "No, not really. Are you?" Dean asks sipping his coffee and Sam chuckles, leaning over onto Deans bed, he pulls out the knife below his pillow, waving it triumphantly in the air, with a 'So what's this?' look on his face.

Y/N eyebrows shoot up at the irony. Knowing she has her gun below her pillow but she can admit she's afraid of whatever is out there but doesn't have a choice other than to kill every evil bastard.

"That's not fear. That is precaution" Dean argues. "Alright whatever. I'm too tired to argue" Sam says. "Well I'm not" Y/N interjects. "So you're telling me. Nothing scares you? Not the thought of anything or the sight of anything" Y/N asks, sipping her coffee. Dean just shrugs.

"Not even the thought of losing those you love? Because honestly that scares me" She says and Dean can't help but agree. "Okay, you got me there, princess" He says chuckling at the fact that she called him out in a debate and won.

He couldn't help but notice how cute she looked, sipping her coffee with her cute little bed head, sticking all over the place. Y/N noticed the same with Dean, his hair sticks all over the place as he sips his coffee, his eyes not leaving hers.

A blush creeps up on Y/N face when she realizes Dean is staring at her. She can't help the butterflies that begin to flutter in her stomach.

Their little staring contest is cut off by her phone ringing. An unknown number, looking at it weirdly and back up at the boys. She flips the phone up, answering. "Hello?"

"Y/N? It's Jerry Panowski" She shakes her head at the boys who are listening in, still not knowing who it is. "You and your dad helped me out a couple years back". When the man says this, her memory refreshes. "Oh, right yeah. Up in...uh.. Kittanning, Pennsylvania. The poltergeist thing" She says in recognition.

"It's not back, is it?" She asks warily. "No. No, thank god, no" Jerry immediately says chuckling. "But it's something else, and, uh, well. I think it could be a lot worse" Jerry says. "What is it?" She asks concerned. "Can we talk in person?" Jerry asks and she looks up at the boys.

________________________________

The Impala and Harley make their way over to Pennsylvania. While riding over, Y/N starts thinking that maybe she should park Quinn up at one of their safehouses to save on gas and just ride with the boys. That is until they find their dads and go their separate ways.

The thought of having to part ways with them saddens her a bit. Dismissing the thought, she decides to tell the boys on their pit stop for fuel and food that they can drop Quinn off in her Indiana safehouse, as it's on the way to Pennsylvania and they can just go with Baby. They agree, no hesitation.

________________________________

"Thanks for making the trip so quick" Jerry, the man who called Y/N, says gratefully her and the boys as they follow behind him. "I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around" He chuckles turning to the boys, "Y/N and her dad really helped me out" Jerry says.

"Yeah, she told us. It was a poltergeist?" Sam asks. "Poltergeist? I love that movie!" A random guy in the background says causing Y/N and Dean to snicker. "Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking" Jerry orders the young man. Before turning to Sam, the trio still walking behind Jerry.

"Damn right it was a poltergeist. Practically tore our house apart" Jerry says. "Tell you something...." He then turns to Y/N "...if it wasn't for you and your dad. I probably wouldn't be alive" And she smiles at this, the boys giving her a look of impress.

"Y/N said you were off to college right?" Jerry asks Sam and he nods. "Yeah, I was. I'm taking some time off" Sam says. "She was real proud proud of you. I could tell. She talked about you all the time" Jerry says. Sam is shocked at this and Dean side eyes him. "She did?" Sam looks off at his best friend smirking and she scoffs. Waving it off.

"Yeah, you bet she did" Jerry confirms and Sam smiles at the thought of Y/N bragging about him going if to college. "Don't give me that look Sammy, I'll still kick your ass" She half threatens her best friend and he chuckles. Dean can't help but feel a bit jealous at their bond, feeling like he's never gotten close enough to Y/N or accomplished anything big enough for her to brag about him.

"Oh, hey, you know. I tried to get ahold of f/n but I couldn't. How's he doing anyway?" Jerry asks. The boys and y/n share a look before Dean says, "He's wrapped up in a job right now, with our dad" lying casually. "Well, we're missing the old man...but we get Sam and Dean. Even trade huh?" He jokes, turning around, walking backwards and turning back. They all laugh.

Sam goes to deny but y/n says, "Even better, trust me. They're the best I know" She smiles. "I got something I want you guys to hear" Jerry says, leading them into his office.

"I listened to this. And well, it sounded like it was up your alley" Jerry says and he puts the CD into the player. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours". He says as the CD slides in. Sam, Dean and Y/N listen intently.

"Mayday. Mayday. Repeat. This is United Britannia 2485 requesting immediate instructions and help" says the captain.

"United Britannia flight 2485, we copy your mayday" the responder immediately followed.

"We may be experiencing some kind of mechanical failure...."

Before the captain's sentence is finished, it's taken over by a hissing and growling noise that honestly doesn't sound remotely humane.

"Took off from here, crashed about 200 miles south. Now they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow, nobody knows why. Over 100 people onboard, only seven got over alive" Jerry explains the situation and it shocks them. "Pilot was one. His name was Chuck Lambert, he's a good friend of mine. Chuck is....Well he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault" Jerry says sadly.

"You don't think it was" Y/N states. "No, I don't" Jerry admits. "Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, a list of survivors—" Sam begins but Dean cuts him off. "Right. And anyways we could take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asks. "The other stuff is no problem but the wreckage...kids, the NTSB had it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance" Jerry says.

"It's no problem" Y/N smiles at him, ensuring they'll be fine.

Later we're outside a store named "Copy Jack". Y/N and Sam are growing impatient of waiting for Dean, leaning against Baby. "Dude, you've been in there forever" Y/N grumbles annoyed and he flashes three fake IDs in their faces. "You can't rush perfection" Dean says sassily and Y/N roll her eyes. "Homeland Security?" Sam questions, taking his ID and Y/N takes hers. "That's pretty illegal. Even for us man" Y/N says and Dean smirks. Heading to the drivers seat.

"Yeah, well. It's something new. People haven't seen it a thousand times" He jumps into the drivers seat. Sam takes shotgun and Y/N jumps in the back. "Alright. So what do you got?" Dean asks Sam as he pulls out his laptop. "Well, there's definitely E.V.P. on the cockpit voice recorder. Listen" Sam clicks the laptop, playing the recording.

It's basically a bunch of static accompanied with a weird voice saying "No survivors".

"No survivors? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors?" She asks, confused. "Got me" Sam shrugs. "So what do you guys think? A haunted flight?" Dean questions. "There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships. Like Phantom Travelers. Or remember flight 401?" Sam explains while me and Dean nod and agree.

"Right. The one that crashed. And the airline salvaged its parts, put it in other planes. Then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights" Y/N explains the story of Flight 401, Dean looks at her smiling at her beauty and brains. "What?" She asks innocently. "You're such a nerd" He snorts. She rolls her eyes. "Shut it, charming" she huffs.

Sam shakes his head at them, chuckling. "Maybe we got a similar deal" Sam says. "So, survivors, who do you wanna talk to first?" Dean asks Sam and Y/N, looking at the list Jerry gave them. "Third on the list, Max Jaffe" Sam immediately responds. "Why him?" Y/N asks. "We'll for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did" Dean turns to Sam after he says this. "What makes you say that?" Dean asks.

"Well, I spoke to his mother and she told me where to find him" He says

________________________________

Now in the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital, the boys and y/n introduce theirselves as Homeland Security so they can get in to question Max Jaffe.

"I don't understand, I already spoke with Homeland Security" Max says, confused as they stroll through the yard of the hospital. "Right. Some new information has come up. So if you could answer a couple questions" Dean says professionally. "Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything unusual" Sam asks Max.

"Like what?" Max responds and Y/N explains further. "Strange lights. Weird noises, maybe. Voices" He looks at them weirdly before denying it. "No, nothing". they all take a seat at one of the tables in the yard. "Hmm, Mr Joffe-" Dean starts but Max corrects him. "Jaffe".

"Jaffe. You checked yourself in here, right?" Dean corrects himself and Max nods. "Can we ask why?" Y/N asks gently. "I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash" Max says as if it's obvious. "Uh-huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?" Dean asks probingly and Max ceases up. "I don't wanna talk about this anymore" Max says getting agitated.

"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what" Dean presses. "No. No, I was delusional. Seeing things" Max denies the fact. "He was seeing things" Dean says plainly, looking at Y/N and Sam and they tilt their heads at his bluntness and annoyed behavior. Turning to Max, Y/N softens her gaze, "It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please" Y/N says calmly and Max takes a deep breath.

"There was this man. And uh, he had these.....eyes, these, uh....black eyes" Max shakily begins to explain, the boys and Y/N exchange a look.. "And I saw him. Or, I thought I saw him...." Max trails off. "What?" Dean urges him to continue. "He opened the emergency exit. But that's— that's impossible, right? I mean I looked it up. There's something like 2 tons of pressure on that door" This statement from Max catches their attention.

"Yeah" Dean says. "This man, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage" Sam asks and Max looks at them like they're crazy. "What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right infront of me"

________________________________

"So here we are, George Phelps, seat 20C" Sam says as they pull up to the man who supposedly opened the emergency exit door mid flight. "Hmm. Man, I don't care how strong you are. Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight" Dean says as they all exit the Impala, shutting our doors and leaning on her.

"Not if you're human" Y/N adds, leaning against Baby to face Dean. "But maybe this guy George was something else" She says. "Some kind of creature, maybe? In human form?" Sam interjects, leaning on Baby. "Does that look like a creatures lair to you?" Dean asks and Sam turns around looking at the house.

"This is your late husband?" Sam picks up a picture of George Phelps, asking the newly widowed Mrs. Phelps. "Yes, that was my George" Mrs. Phelps confirms, her tone croaky as if she had been crying. "And you said he was a dentist?" Y/N asks kindly. "Uh-huh. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Did you know that he was petrified to fly?" Mrs. Phelps tells them.

"For him to go like that..." She says sadly, trailing off. "How long were you married?" Sam asks softly and she smile a bit thinking about it. "Thirteen years".

"And all that time...did you ever notice anything strange about him? Anything out of the ordinary?" Y/N asks and Deans eyes flicker from her to Mrs. Phelps. "Well....he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean" Mrs. Phelps answers and the trio is bit disappointed.

"I mean, it goes without saying, it doesn't make any sense" Sam says as they leave the Phelps residence. "Yeah, a middle aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified" Y/N says, as they walk back to baby. "You know what we need to do is get inside NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage" Dean says, nodding excited.

"Okay, but if we're gonna go that route, we better look the part" Y/N smirks, wiggling her eyebrows at the boys.

________________________________

Sam, Dean and Y/N walk out of a store named "Morts Unisex For Style". Now dressed up. Sam and Dean in black and white formal suits. Y/N in a black blazer, white blouse and a pencil skirt.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers" Dean says, tugging at his suit uncomfortably . "No, you don't. You look more like a seventh grader at his first dance" Sam teases and Y/N snickers. High-fiving him. Dean rolls his eyes, looking down at his outfit.

"I hate this thing" Dean grumbles as they walk back to the car. "You want into that warehouse or not?" Y/N shoots back. She had to stop herself from drooling when she saw Dean in his suit. She never realized she had a thing for suits till she saw Dean in his. She was always more a leather jacket, tattoos and piercings gal.

"Ohh chin up charming, chicks dig suits. You'll be fine" Y/N says, stepping infront of him, fixing his tie, looking into his eyes. She blushes a bit when he winks at her. "You don't look bad yourself, Princess" He smirks at her.

Dean kept himself from gawking at her. How that pencil skirt hugged her waist and her curves tightly. "Damn straight, I look hot" She says cockily, winking back, taking her hands off his tie. 'You're damn right you do' Dean thinks, hiding his blush.

"Guys, enough flirting, we gotta go" Sam groans, from the passenger seat of Baby, sticking his head out the window. Y/N rolls her eyes. "Not flirting, dipshit" She huffs, jumping in the backseat. "Whatever, crackhead" Sam retorts back, snorting. "Settle down children" Dean says in a playful fatherly tone, putting the Impala in drive. "Jerk" "Asshat" Sam and Y/N say in unison, glaring at Dean who laughs.

________________________________

They're now at the warehouse, game faces on, flashing their badges to the security who nods and let's them in.

Now surrounded by large scraps of metal from the wreckage. Dean pulls out an old Walkman. "What is that?" Sam asks. "It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies" Dean explains. "Yeah, I know what and EMF meter is. But why does that look like a busted-up Walkman?" Sam asks.

"Because that's what I made it out of. It's homemade" Dean says, smiling proudly holding it up. Sam looks at his brother judgement on his face, raising his eyebrow. "Yeah, I can see that" And Deans smile drops.

"Don't worry buddy, I think it's cool" Y/N pats his shoulder, reassuring him and his smile's back. His heart leaping at her touch. They walk around, using the EMF reader to scan the wreckage. It starts beeping when they reach the emergency door handle.

"Check out the emergency door handle" Dean says, Y/N leans over, scratching its surface. A yellow powder falls off. "What is this stuff?" She asks. "One way to find out" Sam says, taking his knife out and a little bag, scraping some off into it as Y/N dusts her fingers.

They hear some footsteps coming their way and take that as signal to beat it. Finding their way to the exit they walk out at a decent pace, until an alarm starts blurring. Dean throws his jacket as the reach the fence and jump it. Pulling it off after, "Wow, these monkey suits do come in handy" Dean says out of breath, running off.

Sam and Y/N run behind him. "Told ya!" Y/N retorts as they jump into baby and make way.

________________________________

They meet back with Jerry, who takes them to the lab in the facility he works at to examine the yellow dust they found. Looking under the microscope, "Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfer" He tells them. "You sure?" Sam asks. "Take a look for yourself. If you kids would excuse me, I have an idiot to fire" Jerry says walking out.

"Hey, Einstein. Yeah, you. What the heck are you doing?!" Jerry shouts at the incompetent employee and Y/N goes over to look under the microscope. "Hmm. Not many things leave a sulfuric residue" Y/N says knowingly, looking at the boys. "Demonic possession" Sam says. "It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open an emergency hatch" Dean says.

"If the guy was possessed, it's possible" Sam sighs. "Yeah but this goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person but to use it to take down an entire airplane" Dean says, resting his hands on his hips. Y/N shakes her head, holding back a laugh at the reference.

"You ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asks them. "Never" Dean says and Y/N shakes her head.

________________________________

Back at the motel, the walls are plastered with research in the case. Sam is on his laptop by the desk, Dean is on his bed with a book and pen in his hand and Y/N is on her laptop, next to Sam, researching.

"So, every religion and world culture has the concept of demons and possession. Right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it" Sam says, leaning back in his chair. Dean and Y/N look up from their books and laptops. Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this" Dean says.

"Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease" Sam explains. "And this one causes plane crashes?" Y/N raises her eyebrow.

Sam sighs, looking back at his laptop. "Alright. So, what, we have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?" Dean gets up, walking over to Sam and Y/N. "Yeah" Sam says, stumped. "And you know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Y/N says looking at the boys and Dean chuckles, trying to mask his fear.

He walks towards his bed but Sam asks, "What?". Dean scratches his head and turns to them, "I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish dad was here" Dean stresses, scratching his head. "Yeah. Me too", Y/N says sadly.

Y/N's cell phone starts ringing. "Hello?" She answers, flipping it up. "Y/N, it's Jerry" Jerry says over the phone. "Oh, hey, Jerry." She says. "My pilot friend...Chuck Lambert is dead" Jerry says and her face drops, the boys look over at her concerned. "Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?" She says sorrowfully.

"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. Plane went down" Jerry explains. "Where'd this happen?" Y/N asks. "About 60 miles west of here, near Nazareth" Jerry says and she takes a breath. "I'll try to ignore the irony of that" She mutters.

"I'm sorry?" Jerry asks confused. "Nothing, Jerry. Hang in there alright? We'll catch up with you soon" She says, hanging up. Looking at them. "Another crash?" Sam asks. "Yeah, let's go".

"Where?" Dean asks. "Nazareth" She says.

________________________________

They go to the crash, pick up a sample of the yellow powder to confirm if it's sulfur and head back to Jerry's. Now looking under a microscope, Dean asks Jerry, "Sulfur?" And he nods in confirmation. "Well, that's great" Dean says, turning to Sam and Y/N who're sitting by the desk.

"Alright, so that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him" Dean says to them. "With all due respect to Chuck...uh, if that's the case, that would be the good news" Y/N says to Jerry, respectfully. "What's the bad news?" Dean asks.

"Chucks plane went down exactly after 40 minutes in the flight" Sam interjects, "And, get this, so did flight 2485" He adds and Deans face drops, along with Y/N's. "40 minutes. What does that mean?" Jerry asks, confused. "It's Biblical numerology. You know, Noah's Ark, it rained for 40 days. The number means death" Y/N explains.

"I went back, and there were six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly 40 minutes in" Sam says. "Any survivors" Dean asks slightly surprised. "No. Or not until now, at least. Not until flight 2485, for some reason" Sam shakes his head. "On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the E.V.P. said?" Sam asks.

"No survivors" Y/N quotes the recording and Dean sighs. "If it's going after all the survivors, it's trying to finish the job" Dean realizes.

________________________________

Sam, Dean and Y/N are in the Impala headed to the airport. Y/N is in the backseat, pretending to be a call agent doing surveys, checking with the survivors to see if they're planning on flying anytime soon.

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our surgery, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks" She says in a formal voice before hanging up. "Alright. That takes Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway off the list. They're not flying anytime soon" Y/N tells the boys as she crosses the names off the list.

"So our only wild card is the flight attendant, Amanda Walker." Dean suggests. "Right." Sam says. "Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at 8 p.m. It's her first night back on the job" Y/N explains. "Huh, sounds like just our luck" Dean says, looking at Y/N in the rear view mirror.

Her head is down as she scans the list, her eyebrows creases whenever she's focused on something. A fact Dean found very cute of her.

"Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel" Sam's concerned voice breaks Dean out of his thoughts, returning his gaze from Y/N to his brother. "Don't worry about it, man. Hey, princess. Why don't you call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can head her off at the pass?" Dean says to Y/N and she lifts her head up.

"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off" Y/N says propping her hand on the door, rubbing her head. "God, we're never gonna make it fellas" She says worried. "Oh we'll make it" Dean says determined, hitting the gas.

________________________________

They make it to the airport just in the nick of time. Running in to look at the flight schedule. Their eyes scan the TVs.

"Right there. They're boarding in 30 minutes" Sam says out of breath, pointing at the flight time. "Okay. We still have some cards to play. I need to find a phone" Dean says, going to look for a telephone box. Y/N and Sam follow behind.

"Airport Services" The woman on the phone says. "Gate 13" Dean says into the phone. "Who are you calling, sir?" She asks. "I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on the flight..um..Flight 424" He says into the phone. "Come on" Dean says impatiently.

"Amanda Walker. Amanda Walker, you have a phone call. White courtesy phone, gate 13." Another woman over the PA system draws to Amandas attention. Picking up the phone, Amanda answers, "This is Amanda Walker"

"Ms. Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hatfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here." Dean says professionally, as Sam and Y/N lean closer to him, trying to hear the conversation. "Nothing serious. Just a minor car accident, but she was injured so-" Dean gives his fake explanation but Amanda cuts him off.

"Wait, wait. That's impossible. I just got off the phone with her" Amanda says and Dean pauses, stumped, caught in his lie. "You what?" He asks, bewildered. "Five minutes ago. She's at her house cramming for a final. Who is this?" Amanda asks, now suspicious and annoyed.

"Uh, well, must be some mistake" He gives a lame excuse causing Y/N to roll her eyes, turning from Y/N and Sam. They move closer to hear. "How would you even know I was here?" Amanda asks suspiciously. "Is this one of Vince's friends?" She asks and Dean just goes with it. "Guilty as charged" Dean chuckles.

"Wow, this is unbelievable" Amanda exaggerates. "He's really sorry" Dean continues to go with it. "Well you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?" She says angrily. "Yes, but he really needs to see you tonight. So-" Dean tries to convince her but she won't budge.

"No, I'm sorry, it's too late" Amanda says, shaking her head. "Don't be like that. I mean come on. The guys a mess. Really it's pathetic." He tries to sway her and it seems to work a bit. "Really?" She asks hopefully. "Oh, yeahhh" Dean assures her. "Look, I gotta go. Tell him call me when I land" She says and hangs up

"No. No wait Amanda. Amanda!" Dean calls out to her but she already hung up. Dean rests the phone back, pissed. "Damn it! That was so close" He says, frustrated. Sam shakes his head saying. "Alright, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane" And Y/N nods her head.

"Now, just hold on a second" Dean tries to reason. "Dean. That plane is leaving with over 100 passengers on board. And if we're right, that plane is gonna crash" Y/N counters. "I know" Dean says, frightened. This makes Y/N's eyebrows quirk up and it dawns in her. He's scared.

"Okay, we get on the plane, find that demon and exorcise it. Look I'll get the tickets. You go get whatever you can out of the trunk will make it by security. Meet me back here in five minutes" Sam quickly maps out a plan, not realizing his brother is scared. Dean doesn't move, looking in between the both of them anxiously. "Are you okay?" Sam asks.

"No, not really" Dean croaks out. "What? What's wrong" Sam asks confused. "He's scared" Y/N interjects, biting back a smirk. Remembering how Dean said earlier that nothing scared him. Deans face drops and Sam looks at his brother surprised. "You have a problem with flying?"

"Well it's never been an issue until now!" Dean counters. "You're joking right?" Sam asks, bewildered. Y/N holds back a snicker, though she shouldn't be laughing she can't help but find the situation ironic. "Do I look like I'm joking?!" Dean exclaims. "Why do you think I drive everywhere?" He justifies his argument. Y/N bursts out laughing, not able to hold it back anymore. Causing Sam to laugh, belting over holding his stomach.

"It's not funny guys!" Dean whisper yells, embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry but it's just. Earlier you were all macho man. And now you're scared. It's ironic" Y/N gasps between laughs. They calm down almost instantly. "Alright. Okay, we'll go" Y/N says, wiping her tears. "What?" Dean asks. "We'll do this one on our own" Sam adds, gesturing between him and Y/N.

"What are you two, nuts!? You said it yourself y/n/n, the planes gonna crash" He says. "Dean, we can do it together. We're not seeing a third option here" Sam defends, still trying to hold back a laugh. "Come on! Really? Man..." Dean says, his voice shaking, going up a octave. He looks around nervously, putting his hands on his hips.

________________________________

"Flight attendants, please crosscheck and prepared for departure" The pilot says over the speaker on the plane. Sam, Dean and Y/N are currently occupying a row on the plane. Y/N in the middle of the boys with Dean on the end. Dean is nervously reading a pamphlet while Sam looks over at his brother amused.

The plane prepares for take off and Dean begins to panic a bit, putting away the pamphlet. "Just try to relax" Sam says soothingly. "Just try to shut up" Dean snaps back and Sam laughs. Deans eyes widen when the plane starts to rumble from take off, Sam smirks looking at his brother.

"Here" Y/N says softly, taking Deans hand in hers. He looks over at her shocked, "I've got you" She in a nurturing tone, giving him a small smile, feeling a little bad for laughing earlier, now looking at Deans panicked state.

He takes a deep breath, looking into her eyes. Feeling a weight lift off of him from her touch, a sense of calmness takes him over a bit and he leans back in his seat. Sam notices this and smiles at their little moment.

A little into the flight, Dean's hand hasn't left Y/N's yet. He feels the panic coming back a bit so he starts humming and Y/N leans closer to hear. "You humming Metallica?" She asks, amused. "Calms me down" He says quickly. "Look charming. I get you're nervous, alright? But you gotta stay focused" She says calmly and he nods. "Okay" Dean says. "How long we got, Sammy?" He asks his brother.

"We got 32 minutes and counting to track this thing down or whoever it's possessing anyway and preform a full on exorcism" Sam says. "On a crowded plane. That'll be easy" Dean retorts sarcastically. "Just take it one step at a time, alright?" Y/N says gently, caressing the back of his hand with her thumb.

Even in the midst, Dean is liking this calm, nurturing side of Y/N. He usually sees her act like this towards grieving families but never really towards him. Maybe they should go on planes more often? He thinks. Nope, scratch that.

"Now who is it possessing?" Y/N says, looking around the plane for any telltale signs. "Well, it's usually gonna be someone with some sort weakness. You know? A chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Someone with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress" Dean explains.

"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up" Sam says and Dean beckons an attendant over. "Excuse me. Are you Amanda?" He asks. "No I'm not" She says nicely. "Oh, my mistake" He says apologetically and she walks off. He looks behind to see another attendant that has to be Amanda.

"Alright. Well, that's gotta be Amanda back there. So I'll go talk to her and I'll get a read on her mental state" Dean says, Sam and Y/N look back at her. "Right, what is she's already possessed?" Y/N asks. "There's ways to test that" Dean says, opening his bag and pulling out a bottle. "I brought holy water" He says holding it up but Sam reaches over, grabbing it.

"No. I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God" Sam says and Dean looks impressed, "Oh, nice" He unclips his belt, letting go of Y/N's hand gently but she stops him. "Why don't I go? You stay and relax a bit" She says sweetly. Dean nods, obliging and Y/N gets up to go to the back.

He feels a bit empty now that she isn't holding his hand for some reason. Y/N feels a bit sad also but remains focused on the mission.

"Hey" Sam calls her back. "What?" She asks. "Say it in Latin" He tells her. "I know" She answers and goes to walk off. "Hey!" He calls her back. "What?" She comes back again, slightly annoyed. "Uh. In Latin, it's Christo" He says. "Dude, I know. I'm not an idiot!" She grumbles at him, walking to the back of the plane.

Dean chuckles a bit at her outburst while Sam looks at his brother smirking. "What?" He asks Sam. "Nothing. Just wish I had someone to calm me down mid flight too..." Sam pokes fun at Dean and he rolls his eyes. "Shut up" he growls, hiding his blush. Sam puts his hands up in surrender laughing. "Hey man, I'm just saying" He laughs.

The plane jolts a bit and Dean clutches onto to his seat in fear. Sam reaches over the seat and places his hand on Dean's. "Here, I've got you" Sam snorts in laughter, mimicking his best friends words from earlier and Dean slaps his hand away quickly.

"Touch me again and I'll put bleach in your shampoo" Dean grumbles and Sam just laughs hysterically. Dean has a small smile on his face that doesn't go unnoticed by Sam. 'These two are too stubborn for their own good' Sam thinks to himself.

Meanwhile, Y/N is at the back of the plane. "Hi" She smiles at Amanda who smiles back. "Hi, May I help you with something?" Amanda asks nicely as she's fixing cups on the cart. "No. I'm just a bit of an uneasy flier. Makes me feel better when I walk around a little bit" Y/N says casually.

"Oh, it happens to the best of us" Amanda says knowingly. "Of course, you being a stewardess, I guess flying comes easy to you" She says and Amanda chuckles. "Yeah, you'd be surprised".

"Really? You're a nervous flier?" She asks and Amanda nods. "Yeah, maybe. Little bit" She says smiling.

"Now, how is it being a stewardess, you're scared to fly?" Y/N asks curious. "It's kind of a long story" Amanda says and Y/N apologizes. "Right. I'm sorry for asking". "It's okay" Amanda says softly but Y/N continues. "You ever consider other employment?"

"No. Look, everybody's scared of something. I just, uh...I'm not gonna let it hold me back" She says honestly. "Huh. That's really brave I'd you" Y/N nods and Amanda looks down smiling. "Christo" Y/N mutters. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" Amanda asks, looking up. Y/N looks at her in face confusion, quirking up her eyebrows chuckling.

"Christo?" She says as if it were a question, a smile on her face. "I didn't— I didn't—" Amanda stutters, confused. A pleasant smile still on her face. "Nothing, never mind" Y/N gives up, her face dropping as she walks out going back to her seat.

"Alright. Well she's gotta be the most well adjusted person on the planet" She says, sitting back between the boys. "You said Christo?" Sam asks. "Yeah" She sighs, buckling back up. "And?" Dean asks, unconsciously reaching for her hand.

"There's no demon in her. There no demon getting in her" She says, noticing Deans reaching for her hand. She takes it, caressing the back of his palm with her thumb soothingly again and he relaxes a bit. "So if it's on the plane, it can be anyone, anywhere" Sam says, looking around.

The plane jolts more this time due to turbulence and Dean panics. "Come on, that can't be normal!" He exclaims. "Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence" She says gently. And he looks back at her, "Y/N, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like, I'm 4" Dean snaps at her. "You need to calm down" She says, trying to keep her cool.

"Well I'm sorry, I can't!" Dean grumbles. "Yes, you can" She says calmly and he glares at her. "Y/N, stow the touchy-feely, self help yoga crap. It's not helping" He growls angrily and she snaps, squeezing his hand that's still in hers without realizing it.

"Listen to me, Winchester. If you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession. You've basically got a sign plastered to your ass saying 'Pick me, Choose me'. So you need to calm yourself down, right now! Cuz if you don't, that demon is gonna make you his personal bitch so hold my hand, take a deep breath and relax!" She growls back firmly.

Dean feels her hand squeezing his and winces a bit. She loosens her grip and he takes a deep breath. "Good" She says. "I'm sorry for being so snappy at you, princess" Dean says apologetically and Sam's eyebrows cock at this. His brother apologizing? Damn he's whipped. "Everyone's scared of something, even you charming" Y/N repeats Amanda's words to her earlier, giving him a small smile of reassurance.

"I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum" Sam cuts in, flipping through his book. "What do we have to do?" Dean asks. "It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful" Sam begins to explain. "More powerful?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah" Sam answers. "How?" Dean asks. "We'll it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own" Sam says. "Oh, and why is that a good thing?" Dean asks. "Well, because the second part, sends the bastard back to hell, once and for all" Sam says.

"First things first. We gotta find it" Y/N says. Dean gets up from his seat with an EMF reader and begins scanning the passengers subtly while walking down the aisle. A few people look at him like he's crazy but there's not beep on the reader.

Sam and Y/N walk up behind him and he doesn't notice him. Resting his hand on his shoulder, Dean jumps. "Oh, man, don't do that!" Dean exclaims.

"Anything?" Sam asks. "No, nothing. How much time we got?" He asks. "Fifteen minutes. Maybe we missed somebody" Y/N says, checking her watch. "Maybe the things just not on the plane" Dean suggests. "You believe that?" Sam asks. "Well, I will if you will" He says and Y/N rolls her eyes. Suddenly the EMF goes off, in the direction of the co-pilot.

"What? What is it?" Sam asks Dean. Y/N notices the red right on the EMF, looking in the direction Dean is. "Christo" She says and the co-pilot turns to them. His eyes flashing black, walking into the cockpit, locking the door.

They walk decide to ask Amanda for help, walking to the back of the plane. "She's not gonna believe this" Sam says as they walk to the back. "Twelve minutes, dude!" Dean informs his brother. "Oh hi. Flights not to bumpy for you, I hope" Amanda says turning around to Y/N.

"Actually that's kinda what we need to talk to you about" Y/N says smiling as Sam closes the curtains behind them. "Um, okay, what can I do for you?" Amanda asks nicely. "Alright this is gonna sound nuts but we just don't have time for the whole 'the truth is out there' speech—" Dean goes to say but Sam cuts him off. "Look, we know you were in flight 2485" Sam says and her face drops.

"Who are you people?" Amanda asks, suspiciously. "We've spoken to some of thes other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't mechanical failure" He says and Dean continues. "And we need your help to stop it from happening again, here, now" He ordersZ

"I'm sorry, I'm very busy. I have to go—" Amanda stutters, trying to walk between them to get away but Y/N holds her back by her shoulder. "Woah woah woah, wait a second" Y/N says, trying to get her attention and she steps back fearfully. "I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me" Y/N reassures her.

"The pilot from 2485, Chuck Lambert, he's dead" Y/N tells her and she shakes her head in disbelief. "What? Chuck is dead?" Amanda asks surprised and scared. "He died in a plane crash. That's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?" Dean asks her, rhetorically and she stutters.

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight too" Sam tries to quickly explain. "Amanda you have to believe us" Y/N pleads with her. And she's hesitant but begins to recall the flight "On...on 2485, there was this man. He had these eyes.."

"Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about" Sam confirms what she saw was real. "Well I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?" She asks. "Get the copilot, we need you to bring him back here" Dean tells her. "Why? What does he have to do with anything?" Amanda asks, confused and frustrated.

"We don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him, okay?" Dean says quickly. "How am I supposed to go into the cockpit and get the copilot-?" Amanda starts but Sam cuts her off. "Whatever it takes. Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken. Whatever will get him out of that cockpit" Sam says quickly Z

"Do you know that I could lose my job if-" Amanda begins again but this time Y/N cuts her off. "You'll lose a lot more than that if you don't help us out" Y/N says pleadingly and she looks between all of him before agreeing. "Okay" She says and walks out, towards the cockpit. Knocking on the door and luring him out.

The copilot begins to follow begins her. Sam takes out John's journal and flips to the page of the exorcism, Dean takes out the holy water and Y/N takes out her iron knuckle ring, just for good measure.

The possessed copilot enters, "Now, what's the problem?" He asks and Y/N instantly right hooks him with her ring. Dean grabs him, lifts him up and slams him back down on the ground. Duck taping his mouth shut so he can't smoke out. "What are you doing?! You said you were just gonna talk to him!" Amanda panics, seeing the trio attack the copilot.

"We are gonna talk to him" Y/N says ruggedly as Dean pours holy water on the copilot, his skin sizzling and burning from the touch causing his clothes to singe. "Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?" Amanda can't believe what she's witnessing. "Look, we need you calm. We need you outside the curtain. Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that?" Sam gently asks while instructing her. But shes panicking at the scene unfolding in-front of her.

"Can you do that? Amanda? Amanda?" Sam tries to get her attention. "Okay. Okay." She says, fearfully, leaving. Y/N lays another punch on the copilot while Dean holds him down. "Hurry up Sam, I don't knock how much longer we can hold him" Dean struggles trying to hold him, along with Y/N. Sam drenches him in holy water again and starts chanting the exorcism in Latin.

The demon breaks out of their hold, knocking the holy water out of Sam's hand, kicking Dean and Y/N off of him and shoving Sam against the wall. Dean and Y/N recover, holding him back down as Sam chants the exorcism again. Kicking Dean and Y/N off again. He rips the duct tape off and he grabs Sam by his collar and says, "I know what happened to your girlfriend" In a demonic voice.

"She must have died screaming. Even know, she's burning!!". He taunts Sam laughing maniacally and Y/N reaches over, punching him again. She and Dean hold him down, "Sam!" Dean yells at his brother to continue, the hate in Sam's face while looking at the demon building.

He continues chanting the exorcism. Dean and Y/N struggle to hold him down. Dropping the book to hold him down, he yells, "I got him!" The demon kicks John's journal into the aisle. But the demon escapes from the copilots body, smoking out from his mouth and goes into the vents. "Where'd it go?" Sam asks.

"Into the plane" Y/N points to the vent. "Hurry up, we gotta finish it" Dean taps Sam on his shoulder and he goes to retrieve the journal but the plane begins falling rapidly. Passengers screaming, tossing them from side to side. Sam rushes to get the journal but it slides under a seat.

Dean and Y/N try to balance themselves but they fall over at the back of the airplane. Dean falls onto Y/N. He holds onto her for dear life, clutching onto her thinking they're gonna die. She wraps her arms around him trying to calm him down even in this situation, his head in her chest, screaming, as the plane falls. Y/N began praying silently in her mind, she was never a religious person but if she needed to pray. Now was the time.

Outside in the aisle, Sam retrieves the journal that was under a seat. Opening the book, Sam chants the exorcism at the top of his lungs. Lightening sparks throughout the outside of the airplane and the plane is back on track. The demon expelled back to hell.

The entire plane sighs a big relief at the plane stabilizing. Families checking to see if their loved ones are safe.

Dean looks up at Y/N, tears drenching her face. Her eyes are screwed shut. When she realizes the plane settled, she looks down at Dean. Crying if relief, hugging him tightly and he hugs her back even tighter.

They both get up and dust themselves off, looking through the curtains to see Sam is standing having saved the day. Dean looks at her brother shaking his head.

________________________________

The plane is now disembarked. The copilot that was possessed is on a wheelchair, wrapped in a blanket. "Sir, can you tell me what happened?" A NTSB agent asks him. "I don't know. I was walking through the airport, then it all goes blank. I don't even remember getting on the plane" The copilot explains to the agent.

"Is there anything else?" An FBI Agent asks Amanda as Sam, Dean and Y/N look on. "No, that's all" She dismisses, looking over at the trio she mouths a silent 'Thank You' to them gratefully and they nod back.

Dean turns to his brother and Y/N, "Lets get out of here" He says, walking to the exit. Y/N looks at her best friend, knowing he's worked up over what the demon said about Jess. "You okay?" She asks, concerned. "Guys..." He turns to his brother and best friend. "...it knew about Jessica" Sam says, worried.

"Sam, these things, they read minds. They lie. Alright? That's all it was." Dean assures his little brother it was all mind games while Y/N nods. "Yeah" Sam says, unconvinced. "Come on" Dean say, walking towards the exit. Y/N notices Sam doesn't move and puts her hand out for him to take. He sighs, taking it, grabbing onto her wrist and they walk towards the exit.

________________________________

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do" Jerry says to them, now outside of the facility where he worked and they nod. "A lot of people could have been killed" He says gratefully, putting his hand out to shake their hands. "I've never met the man, but I'm sure your dads gonna be proud boys" He says to Sam and Dean. "We'll see you around, Jerry"

Turning to Y/N, he gives her a hug which she gladly returns. "I know your dad is proud of you kiddo" He says patting her shoulder and she smiles. "I sure do hope so too" she says to herself softly as Jerry walks off. "He is" Dean reassures her, flashing her a wink and she hides her blush.

They all pile into the Impala and hit the road, part of Y/N misses her bike but she's also grateful she can play backseat passenger princess for a bit and catch up on some Z's.

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#spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean and sam #sam and dean #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfiction

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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years

Text

Mickey Altieri x AFAB!Reader || Oneshot

*I have been watching Santa Clarita Diet and remembering how cute this man is so I decided to finish this! Yayyyy, Mickey fanfiction.

Plot: You and your best friend Mickey fuck, and to nobodies surprise... it causes issues.

Warnings: Porn with Plot, so yes there's smut and sexual references throughout. Specifically oral (f receiving), slight inebriation, forcefulness, p in v, and a little fingering

"Hey Y/N, just callin' to check in but your phones off, I guess. When you do hear this though, call me back. I was thinkin' we could go to movie, or something."

"So... what, you didn't like the movie idea? Haha. Yeah, I get it, I'm a pain to go to movies with, I know. Thought it was worth a shot, though... Call me back and we'll get a bite or something."

"Are you really doing this? Ignoring me? This is a little junior high, don't you think? Come on."

"Look, Y/N... I hate to pull this card but I gave you an orgasm. You could at least call a guy back for that."

"It was a fucking good orgasm, too, actually, and we both know it. Call back."

"*Sigh*... You came in my mouth Y/N, don't fucken ignore me."

Mickey's messages were becoming increasingly more frustrated, and lewd, and you don't blame him, really! But at this point you're honestly a little scared to talk to him, much less look him in the face.

The tone his voice is developing in these messages is undeniably hot, and you can’t face him the way you're feeling about him right now. The... incident, he's referring to, was a mistake. A slip.

A slip that is still flower fucken fresh in your mind- which is why you can’t face him.

And you try to tell yourself that you were... tired, that day! That it had been a long week, and Mickey is, honestly, objectively... quite an attractive dude! And because he was, well, there, you accidentally… well, you... alright, you don't know what happened. Or how to explain it without sounding awful, or ruining your friendship.

"Ugh," You cut off your own thoughts, tired of thinking about it as you lift your shoulder bag over your head and drop it onto your opposite shoulder passive aggressively, and unlock your dorm door. Then you twist the knob with an eye roll and pull it open. "Class. Shakespeare.” You chant. “That's all you need to be thinking about right now, Y/N. Get your head in the game… "

The moment you leave your room though, you see Mickey leaning on the wall two centimetres from your face and let out a yelp; Jumping back. "Where do you think you're going?" He asks, raising his brows at you from where the side of his head is, resting on the wall.

"To class!?" You exclaim, reeling from the shock of him being right there, waiting for you to come out. Can you run back in and slam the door or would that be going too far?

"Nahhhh, see I don't think so." Mickey moves in closer, causing you to step back, until you're both swiftly back in your dorm. He then closes the door behind him and your heart gives a dreadful thud.

This is absolutely the situation you’ve been trying to avoid. Too emotional, too alone-

"Look, Mick, I'm sorry for ignoring you- that was wrong, but can we talk about this later?” You ask, desperate and almost begging. God, Shakespeare sounds good right now. Even Trigonometry would be great! Anything that will take the heartbeat out of your pants.

“Uh uh uh, see you lost the right to pick a time slot about two messages ago. Now I choose, and I think now is a good time.” He locks the door, then, and you actually wince. Noooooo…

“Fine, Mickey. Uh… what’d you wanna talk about?”

“Oh, you’re gonna play dumb?” He looks surprised, and impressed, and dangerous as he gets closer to you. “Okay, okay… how about we talk about this?”

Then Mickey reaches over, cups your face and drags your mouth to his in a ridiculously heated kiss that makes all the blood in your body rush somewhere other than your brain- which is suddenly quite silent. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, this is not how this should go!- You let the kiss end on its own, though, until he pulls his lips away from yours oh-so-gentle, though doesn’t let go of your face; Just looks darkly down at you, waiting. “About that,” He snaps, and its odd because your friend Mickey has never been the angry sort… always calm, even when he was frustrated. Always cracking jokes. And even now, he doesn’t look vicious or wounded at all, but there’s a definite vibe… something in his voice… that tells you he is totally pissed off. He straightens his head again before his big hands move down to your waist. He turns you around and guides you to the nearest wall.

Breathless, you give a hesitant nod. “… you’re right. We definitely do need to talk about that.”

“Right, yeah, or we could talk about this,” He goes on, pressing what seems to be an erection at full mast into you and you actually have to resist moaning; Biting your bottom lip so it actually hurts. Yeah… that too. “Yeah, we’ll probably have to talk about that too, right? Like, urgently.”

When you open your mouth this time to respond - with what you don’t know, -, Mickey doesn’t let you; Instead swooping down to kiss you again and swallowing all thought from you. God, this just what happened the other night! Mickey’s lips get involved and you turn Idiot. You’re so caught up in the kissing in fact, fighting to keep up with him, tasting him back- that you almost miss the hand going down your pants.

“Ah~ fuck.” You swear, when you feel two strong fingers slip up through your folds, collecting the moisture that he created when he walked in like he did.

“Or we could talk about this… “He murmurs, waving the two fingers between your faces, coated in slick as he makes a mockery of your reaction to him. Then you watch him stare into your eyes and suck on those fingers. “Mm, yeah, I’m not the only one with a problem here. This we definitely gotta discuss, right?? Right!” At that he lets you go entirely, pushing away from you and taking a few steps back in his frustration.

Thank god- you can breath now.

“… Mickey you’re a little manic,” You start, once gathering your composure again quickly. “Are you okay??”

“No I’m not fine!”

“Well… I’m your friend. We can talk this through- “

Before you’ve even got the sentence out, Mickey’s talking over you. “Ughhhhh!” He turns around, upon you again as you press back into the wall and he holds up a stern index at you in some kind of psycho mommy finger. “… That’s the thing,” He whispers. “I don’t think we are friends, Y/N.”

“What?- “

“We fucked.” He says, bluntly, and it makes your face heats up. “And I liked it. And you did too, don’t even- don’t even try to deny it.”

After a moment, you give out a sigh and shake your head; A sad look on your face. “I wont deny it.”

“Great. So, you agree. We can’t be friends anymore. At least not in the traditional sense of the word- I don’t think I can spend another movie night with you,” The way he says ‘movie night’, like they mean nothing to him anymore honestly hurts, but the next words that come out of his mind have you all twisted up inside. “You know, lay my head in your lap and not wanna rip your pants off. So!- what does that leave us?”

“I… I don’t know. We could… “Before your face was warm, but now the areas from your cheeks to your collar bones are piercing hot under the duress of his intense gaze. You wish he would just calm down, and discuss this without all the pressure! “d-date? I gues- “

“Date?? Date? I’ve been your best friend since we were fourteen. Dating is for suckers who don’t know eachother like we do. Fuck dating.”

“Then what!?” You snap, getting tired of his tantrum. Is this going somewhere?? Is he breaking up with you?? If so, can he get it over with and stop embarrassing you!?

“Y/N- FUCK!” He swears, like you’re frustrating him now- any hint of a humorous undertone gone despite the still-calmness of his face.

“Mickey you walk in here, kiss me, lick my precum off your fingers and then start yelling at me. What is your end goal!??”

Mickey’s hands are on you, then, probably leaving indentations in your arms with how tightly he’s holding you. “Y/N, I love you.”

“… “You stop, and close your mouth. He… “What!?” You snap.

“I love you,” He informs, all matter-o-factly, and finally a little grin quirks at the left corner of his mouth. “So we cant be friends anymore. I kinda wanna be more than that.”

You honestly don’t know what to say. Your heartbeat is calming down again to homeostasis after all that hubbub, but you’re anything but calm. This is Mickey- your best friend, the only one who knows you have a crush on Jason Voorhees. This man, who is ridiculously sexy and intelligent, has seen you sick as a dog before, and sobbing after getting broken up with, and stupidly hyped over winning a game- and… he wants to be your boyfriend? You’re dumbfounded, so not much comes to mind as response. In fact, all you manage to squeak out, is “… kinda?”

“Kinda- a lot-… do we need the logistics?”

Despite yourself, your lips fight to quirk up into a small smile. “Altieri, you are a mess.” A hot, manic, mess.

“I’ve been thinking about your pussy all week, what do you really expect?” He asks, grinning back. The lewdness of his words make you groan, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back against the door in light mortification. “What?” he shrugs, “It’s true.”

“… so you like me, huh?”

“Derek said I’m full on whipped, actually.” Mickey clarified, and you can’t help a giggle. He talked to Derek about you? “So can we stop fighting and break one of Randy’s horror flick rules, now?“

“Just a moment,” You stop him, your own mommy finger coming out. He steps back, hands up in surrender even as that amused look stays on his face. A sternness creeps onto your own as you push off the wall, towards him. “I don’t want you to ever come into my room like that again. Don’t kiss me, then yell at me, and tell me you love me like that makes up for it. I mean come on man- were you born in a barn??” You try to add a little humour at the end there, for the moods benefit, and he gives that sexy half smile of his. “… And I promise I’ll always return all your calls from now on- within reason.”

“Done.” He agrees, easy, and you shrug- good. That’s that then, all that you wanted to add. Mickey senses this being the end, too, and meets you halfway in the middle of the room; Curling some of your hair around his ear. “So… “

Looking all hard-done-by, you shrug and offer you hand to him. “Damn, you nympho. Yeah, I guess we can fuck now- Woah!“

He’s already dragging you to your bedroom, and you’re laughing; Your Shakespeare class is forgotten when he pushes you back onto the bed, if it wasn’t already.

~ A week ago ~

Mickey’s lips leave a hot trail all the way from your worn cunt, over your stomach and your breasts, your neck, your jaw and when he finally reaches your lips once again you kiss him back fervour; Finding that you don’t mind the taste of yourself, at all.

Despite cumming already, you spread your legs once again and wrap them around your friends’ hips and arch up into him when he grinds his still-covered erection into your naked pussy; Moaning into his mouth at the rough feeling. You know that this is going to change everything, but damnit- a shit of an essay due tomorrow, one viewing of your favourite movie and only 3 jelly shots caused this! And damn it just feels too good right now to stop it.

Besides- Mickey hasn’t come yet. You wouldn’t leave him without helping him too! What are friends for??

Disconnecting from his lips in order to reach down, you unbutton and unzip him before shoving his pants and underwear down just under his ass- too impatient to get them completely off of him. And, clearly, he’s feeling the same because as soon as his dick is free, he’s plunging it into your sobbing pussy. The groan that escapes him then is downright pornographic- and you certainly aren’t fairing much better, fingertips digging into the mattress.

“We shoulda done this before,” He pants, thrusting in and out of you in a desperate search for release.

You don’t quite hear him, or you tune it out, or you pretend you didn’t hear it, because having heard it would mean responding. And responding would mean accepting that this is happening outside of a really good daydream. And accepting would mean you had to have a conversation, and a conversation could mean a million things including losing your best friend- so, officially, you didn’t hear him. You turn your head into the sheets, grinding your hips in pace with his thrusts, chasing another amazing orgasm from him.

God, you’ve never been fucked like this. It’s never been this good. How is this possible. “Aghhh okay- okay- gonna come. Yeah. Wh- Where- where do you want it?” He pants, struggling with the words as his nuts threaten to bust any second.

You’re on the pill, and he’s wearing a condom, and he just feels so good filling you and stretching you that the idea of him pulling out too early make you want to beg him no, no, no. So you wordlessly shake your head and lock your legs around him, pulling his body flush against your so his cock really goes as far inside you as possible, before pulling Mickey mouth back to yours once again. His tongue meets yours in a very clumsy, needy kiss and he cums right then.

He shoots hard into the rubber wrapped around him. His hips stutter in their thrusts, but he goes on until you follow suit; The knot of pleasure exploding in you once more. The sensation of his shallow, slow thrusts after that are over the top, and oversensitive, but fuck they make you whine louder then any before.

When he slips out of you and lays back on the bed beside you, your heads near the foot of the bed rather then the top and on top of the sheets, you decide to just go to sleep. Feeling like this; Tingly and warm.

Let the mess be a dilemma for future you.

#Mickey Altieri x Reader Oneshot #Mickey Altieri x Reader Smut #Mickey Altieri x Reader Smutshot #Mickey Altieri x Reader #Mickey Altieri #Mickey Altieri Smut #Smut #Oneshot #Slashers #Ghostface #Scream #Scream 2

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tobyyobyy · 1 year

Text

carl grimes headcannons because we lack of anything for him and i can (most, if not all, are just non-apocalypse headcannons):

- autistic (we are starting off strong here)

- vocally stims vines sometimes (“road work ahead? uh yeah i sure hope it does”, “look at all those chickens”, “i wanna be a cowboy baby”) (he does that last one in front of rick a lot and rick never understands it’s from vine)

- judith: “daddy?”

- carl: “DO I LOOK LIKE-?”

- glenn taught him a lot of stupid jokes like “ligma” and “joe mama” (the usual college kid jokes)

- would use the “joe mama” joke on judith a lot

- judith would retaliate with ligma jokes (“we have the same mom idiot”)

- no one knows where she learnt that one

- loved science as a kid

- switched between wanting to become a cop like rick or an astronomer

- thought about being a palaeontologist but couldn’t see himself doing it for the rest of his life

- didn’t have a lot of friends but was still liked by other kids anyways (doesn’t mean he’s popular, people are just neutral about him)

- is on a swim team

- just likes swimming in general

- MOMMA’S BOY!!!!!

- then lori died so he made that transition over to his dad…yeah

- keeps his hair long and went through that teenage grunge phase

- listens to bands like oasis, los campensinos, nirvana, foo fighters, etc etc

- his parents music taste would sneak in sometimes tho like fleetwood mac, abba (lori) bob dylan, johnny cash (rick), any 80’s songs and old country (below the 70’s)

- because of that grunge phase he’d 100% play the electric guitar

- his grandpa taught him a bit of acoustic whenever they’d visit

- he plays the acoustic sometimes for judith, or anyone in his family who asks, but mainly judith

- plays more chill songs like something you’d find in the ‘life is strange’ soundtrack (bright eyes, angus and julia stone, iron & wine) (most of those are from enid’s music taste)

- rick and michonne let him use the garage but it still drives them up the walls when he jams out with friends

- doesn’t understand the superbowl but because his dad likes it he makes an effort to watch it with him because no one else will

- jump scares any unsuspecting victim when they turn the corner of a wall

- to calm down whenever he’s stressed/overwhelmed/overstimulated he’ll either go swimming or ask his grandparents to come over (they own a farm) to ride some horses

- allergic to peanuts (not pecans because they had to eat some when they met Gabriel so)

- hates anything deep fried except for fish

- terrible in any form of skating

- roller skating? keeps slamming into the wall

- ice skating? uses those kid-balance-crutches-thingys

- he just has terrible coordination

- obviously gets worse when he looses his eye

- he’s good at bowling tho

- even tho he’s a moody teenager he’s EXTREMELY kind

- switches from sciences to arts and english in high school

- started making little family portraits drawings

- can actually understand old english/shakespeare

- makes blanket forts with judith 24/7

- actually does have a southern accent it’s just more like loris (less noticeable than ricks)

- would 100% watch minecraft youtubers

- bisexual little shit (duh)

- when he was a kid he didn’t have a fear of needles but as he grew up he just DESPISED them like shaking screaming crying and throwing up type deal

- hums a lot to judith, usually the song “baby mine”

- snapchat user

- embarrassingly so. especially when he uses the filters

- has a diary and calls it a diary not a journal

- drops trauma like it’s nothing, like a silly joke (this is basically canon but i’ll still include it in)

- headphones on 24/7 might as well be glued to his head (his ears are too small for earphones and he likes soundproof headphones anyways)

- an entire shelf in his closet is just for comics (and some comics are thin so you can imagine how many he has)

- likes reading other things too instead of just comics

- refuses to wear elastics/tie his hair up even if it gets in his way a lot

- let’s judith put silly hairclips in it

- sometimes forgets to take them out when he gets to school but he doesn’t care much

- would watch: the office, brooklyn nine-nine, the breakfast club & moral orel

#carl grimes #the walking dead #twd carl #twd #judith grimes #headcanon #carl grimes headcanons #twd headcanons #the walking dead headcanons

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muffimtv · 13 days

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tihesocyh

all of them except any youre uncomfy with i know its 40 pls

POEASE

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?- my friends, my relationship with gender, and my art

show us a picture of your handwriting?

this is the closest i got

3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?- lego batman movie, hercules, jaws

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?- @fuzziecorpse it’s shakespeare’s fucking fault

what made you start your blog?- i had a lot of friends on tumblr and needed somewhere to post art

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?- best part is for sure just the fun of making content! worst is all the judgement i tend to get (especially being a furry)

what scares you the most and why?- abandonment, because i have anxiety

any reacquiring dreams?- not really

tell a story about your childhood- i LOVED the paris catacombs when i was a kid. i would SOB because my parents wouldn’t let me touch the skulls and when they made me leave

would you say you’re an emotional person?- oh yeah

what do you consider to be romance?- i have a bit of a weird relationship with romance! it’s very hard to describe where i draw the line

what’s some good advice you want to share?- uhhhh dont die?

what are you doing right now?- watcjing lego batman movie

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?- jump into a pool from the balcony

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?- my bedroom late at night or my partner

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?- i want to be more patient

name 3 things that make you happy- fandom, cats, art

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?- i think that it’s statistically unlikely we’re alone in the universe. as far as ghosts go i think they’re a neat concept but i don’t really believe in them

favourite thing about the day?- warm sun

favourite things about the night?- stars

are you a spiritual person?- not really?

say 3 things about someone you love- so so kind, so so silly, and makes me feel incredibly loved

say 3 things about someone you hate- homophobic cowboy piece of shit

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?- being a good sibling

fave season and why?- autumn, it’s the perfect temperature and weather almost always (side note: it’s literally my namesake)

fave colour and why?- purple, it’s beautiful

any nicknames?- muffi/muffin

do you collect anything?- books, plushies, fabric

what do you do when you’re sad?- play sad music

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?- my friends

are you messy or organised?- both. my space usually looks like a disaster but i know exactly where evrrything is

how many tabs do you have open right now?- uhhh 28

any hobbies?- all of the above (reading, drawing, sewing, bookbinding, making playlists)

any pet peeves?- that squeaky sound balloons make

do you trust easily?- yes

are you an open book or do you have walls up?- chronic oversharer 🙏🙏

share a secret- i don’t really keep any? see above LMAO

fave song at the moment?- save a horse (ride a cowboy)

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?- film cooper rn, he’s funny as fuck

any bad habits?- picking at my lips AUFH

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leelei1980 · 1 year

Text

Part two- Get to know you

Eddie

I walked into the library and scanned the tables looking for the new girl. Despite what others may think, I love to read and the library is actually one of my favorite places to be in this god forsaken school. You see the thing is I like to read what I want to, not what I have to. I enjoy authors such as Orwell, Vonnegut, Tolkien, King, not Shakespeare.

I caught a glimpse of long curly black hair in the back corner of the the room and quietly made my way over. She was very pretty, lightly suntanned skin, barely noticeable freckles on the bridge of her nose, long curly black hair and the darkest brown eyes with the longest lashes I have ever seen. A natural kind of beauty. No make up plastered on her face, she just didn't need it.

I watched her a minute, head buried in a book before lightly tapping her on the shoulder. She jumped and put her hand on her chest.

"Sorry, it wasn't my intention to scare you. "

She smiled nervously," It's not you, it's me. I am pretty much the jumpiest person out there. I get so fully engrossed in what I am reading and block everything out the jump when I am brought back to reality. You should see me with scary movies." She motioned to the chair beside her." So Eddie, how can I help you out this year?"

" So we are jumping right into this tutor thing huh?" I sat down

She looked confused" Isn't that what we are here for?"

" I just, I don't know, thought that maybe we could get to know each other a little bit first? We are going to be spending a lot of time together. I felt like we have a good thing going in Ms. O'Donnells class the other day."

" I seriously thought we were in trouble when she called up to the front at the end of class. I thought she caught us writing notes."

" I bet that would have been the first time you have gotten into trouble in school."

"No, I helped one of my friends cheat off my test and got caught one time but that's pretty much it,"

" I usually get in trouble on a daily basis. Nothing major just mostly being late to class or not paying attention."

She smiled " You? Not paying attention?"

I smiled " Yeah hard to believe huh?"

She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest." So Mr. Munson, what would you like to know about me? "

" Any topic out of bounds?"

"Hmmm," she tapped her chin,"I will let you know as we go if you are delving a little too deep, for every question you ask me, you have to answer one as well, fair?"

"Absolutely." I clapped my hands together and got shhhed by the librarian. " Want to get out of here? Find someplace a little more private? I have the perfect spot."

" Alright." She grabbed her book and put it into her bag. I motioned for her to walk ahead of me.

" Ladies first."

" So where are we going?"

" There is a picnic table in the woods on the other side of the football field. I like to call it my thinking spot." We quietly walked out of the library and then down the hallway and out of the school."

Ok first question, so you moved here from California, where?"

" San Diego. I was born there. It was a cool place to grow up, lots to do, the weather was gorgeous. Absolutely perfect." She looked over at me as we walked." Have you always lived in Hawkins?"

" Yeah. Born and raised. "

"It doesn't seem like such a bad place to me, though I haven't really been out much to explore. Are your parents from Hawkins?"

I laughed sarcastically." My parents were originally from Hawkins. Let me just say that they were not upstanding citizens. My parents were high school sweethearts, my mom got pregnant in high school, she dropped out, my dad was a trouble maker dropped out. They raised me till I was 7, my dad got into trouble went to jail, my mom couldn't handle the responsibility of being a single parent so she took off and left me with my uncle, Wayne. He's a good guy, has taken good care of me, unfortunately not around much because he was working two jobs to support us. He did his best." I shrugged

" Must have been hard on you growing up though?"

" It's all I've known. " We walked across along the sidelines of the football field and I heard someone holler out "There goes the freak!" I spun around and flipped whom ever it was the bird." Hey look it's the Meathead Jock that still thinks it cool to bully people because it makes him feel better about himself."

I saw Veronica scan the group of football players then walk a little faster.

" Someone you know play football? A boyfriend?"

" Oh god no! My stepbrother plays."

I lead her into the woods and to the picnic table under a tree." Who's your stepbrother?"

She plopped her backpack down and sat on the bench." Jason Carver."

I sat across from her staring in disbelief" Jason fucking Carver? My arch nemesis. Seriously?."

" Trust me, I wish it wasn't true but it is. That guys is the biggest asshole known to man and I get to live under the same roof with him."

I placed my forearms on the picnic table and leaned forward." I had heard that Bill Carver had gotten re-married, ya know it being a small town and all there is always gossip but I didn't know if it was true or not. I heard his new wife is hot." I smirked.

She smirked back," My mother is a very attractive woman. Perfect blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, tall slim, winning personality ."

"Then where did you get that dark head of hair from?"

" My dad. I also got my big ass and my big hips from his side of the family too."

" Parents divorced?" I saw a flash of sadness in her eyes." Too personal?"

" No." she said quietly then twisted her fingers together. " My dad was killed in a car accident my freshman year of high school. Drunk driver. One morning I was kissing him goodbye before school then later that day there was a knock on the door and a police offer told us he was gone."

My heart sank in my chest and I got up and went over and sat by her." Oh shit, I am so sorry."

She shrugged . " Life can be a fickle bitch, one minute your living your best life and then bam the next one of the people you care most about in the world is ripped out of your life forever. Sorry."

" Don't apologize," I put my hand on her arm." So that is why you moved to Indiana with your grandparents?"

" Yeah, my mom couldn't take it, couldn't stand living in our house anymore, not when everywhere she turned something reminded her of him. They had the greatest relationship, they were so in love-" she paused" So we packed up and left behind the only home I had ever known and moved in with my mom's parents in Indianapolis."

" How did your mom meet Bill?"

" A business trip, there was a convention , they struck up a conversation went out to dinner and the rest is history. " She picked at the wood in the picnic table then looked back up at me." Bill is a good guy, I am glad that my mom found him. My mom is too young and too wonderful a person to be alone the rest of her life. Bill treats her well and she is happy, I am happy for her. I just wish that dickhead wasn't part of the package deal."

I laughed." Is he awful to you too?"

"According to him I am not supposed to talk or acknowledge him at school, like I would want to anyway, because I am a-" she makes air quotes with her fingers" A geek and a nerd that doesn't fit into his world. I mean he is the star athlete, most popular boy is school with the perfect head cheerleader girlfriend-"

" Chrissy Cunningham, oh yes."- it was my turn to sigh.

" You know Chrissy?"

I laugh. " Oh boy do I know Chrissy. You see Chrissy is the reason your dickhead stepbrother wants to kill me."

" Oh my god what happened?" I could tell her interest was peaked.

" Once upon a time Jason and I were actually kind of friends, played baseball together,all through middle school ate at the same goddamn lunch table infact the along came Chrissy Cunningham. Jason liked Chrissy, I had a crush on Chrissy and she liked to string us both along like little puppies. Well ,freshman year I decided I was done with the sports scene, Jason was as you described the star athlete, Varsity team's freshman year and Chrissy decided that it was her place since she was a cheerleader to be beside Jason so she completely wiped me off the face of the earth. I was nothing, just a lowly human being that liked to read my science fiction and fantasy books and play my guitar. Until the first time they broke up. Chrissy comes running to me heartbroken, Jason broke up with me, I just can't bare it, please Eddie sell me some drugs to help me ease my pain-"

Veronica's eyebrows furrowed together, " You sell drugs?"

I sat up on the top of the picnic table Indian style. " I sell pot for a guy named Reefer Rick. I used to sell shrooms, pills etc but then it really nagged at my conscience , what if I sold something to someone and something happened to them. I mean ultimately they are the ones making that decision, I am just the one delivering the product but still, so I switched to just maryjane. You can't die from a pot overdose and it makes people happy."

" So do you smoke it?"

" On occasion, at a party, when I am really bored or stressed." I shrugged.

" I don't judge. " she rubbed her hands together " So before I changed the subject, you were saying Chrissy came to you to buy drugs.."

" Oh right. So She came to me in tears, Eddie I need a distraction , I can't stop thinking about him. I told her I didn't think drugs were the answer, I didn't want to see anything happen to her, she told me I was sweet," I smirked," and then she said I was the distraction that she needed and we had sex."

I watched her make a face," You just said you don't judge! I am a horny teenage boy, she threw herself at me , I had a crush on her, why not?"

" Because she was an asshole to you? It was purely for revenge, she just used you."

" Not the most horrible way in the world to be used ." I shrugged again. "We both got something out of it."

" Yeah you got your name on Jason's shit list."

" I also got to hook up with a cheerleader." I said matter of factly." It was nice to not feel invisible."

" How long before Jason found out?"

I closed my eye and squinted in thought. " About a year."

" Really?"

"Yeah, they got back together a week after they broke up. I didn't want to say anything, why cause trouble? I didn't want to ruin her reputation –"

" That was noble of you."

" I don't kiss and tell sweetheart." I watched her eyebrows go at the 'sweetheart'

" Your just a good guy."

" I try." I bow dramatically and she smiles. It is a beautiful smile." So they broke up again, we hooked up again, yada yada. Until one time he followed her to my place and caught her red handed, he beat the shit out of me but didn't say a word about it to anyone else because he didn't want anyone to know that she was tainted by the freak."

" Why do they call you the freak? So far you seem like a great guy to me."

I smiled at her. " Really?"

" Yeah. You're the only person who has made any kind of effort to get to know me. I take that back, do you know Robin Buckley?"

" Hell yeah, we hang sometimes. She's funny. She is also the reason I no longer smoke cigarettes. She lectured me one time on all the harsh chemicals in them and freaked me the fuck out. She is also a little neurotic in case you haven't noticed."

" I haven't known her long enough to notice that." She laughed. " She wants to introduce me to her friend Steve."

" Steve 'the hair' Harrington?"

Veronica laughed." The hair?"

" Dude has some hair, I mean not like my luscious locks but like perfectly styled. He is famous for it. He is the type of guy you want to hate, popular, good looking, he was a great athlete, rich, throws the best parties, but he is actually nice. I tried to hate him, couldn't do it."

" Robin works with him at the video store."

" Yeah he saves a copy of the new releases for me when they come in."

" Sounds nice."

" He is like the dad out of our group of friends, always keeping an eye on everyone."

" And you said he is good looking?"

I looked at her, " What are you interested?"

She laughed loudly." Guys like that don't look twice at girls like me."

I studied her for a minute, really giving her a good once over,"Why not? I would."

She blushed." I don't fit in with societies beauty standards, I'm not a size zero, I am-" she waved her arms around in front of her." I'm no Chrissy Cunningham."

" She is overrated. Trust me. Your real."

" Real thick."

I shook my head. " Last I knew women are supposed to have curves babe. "

She stared a me a minute then looked away when my eyes met hers. "So back to my question, why do they call you freak?"

" Because I have long hair and wear rings and listen to metal. I'm in a band and don't conform to society.I read science fiction and fantasy. I started a dungeon and dragon club where me and a bunch of guys play once a month. People think it's some kind of Satanic cult."

" It's a game you play with dice right?"

" Yeah, I am the dungeon master and I create campaigns for the group. We are kind of a group of misfits but that doesn't make us freaks."

" Not at all. Haven't ever played but it sounds fun."

" You should check it out sometime."

"I will. So what else do you want to know about me?"

" What do you do for fun?"

" Read, bake, listen to music."

" What kind of music?"

" Literally everything, except country. Our lives revolved around music. My dad was a music teacher. He played every instrument you can imagine, listened to every kind of music you can imagine. He was just such an amazing man. I definitely inherited his love of music."

" That is awesome. Was he a rocker?"

" He was, rock and roll forever. I would go into our music room and watch him for hours."

" So what do you play? You can't have access to all those instruments and not play."

Veronica smiled. " It was amazing having access to it all, my dad was always so excited when I would show interest in something. I started at a really young age when you brain just absorbs everything. My main instruments are strings and woodwinds, I play violin, Cello, flute, oboe, clarinet, drums sometimes-"

" No shit? That is amazing! Do you play guitar?"

" The guitar was always my dads thing, I was just starting to pick it up when he passed.I haven't touched a guitar since."

" I play, if you ever decide you want to give it a shot again let me know.I would love to teach you. I'm in a Band, Corroded Coffin, we play at a dive bar called the Hideout, you should check us out.."

She smiled." I might, that would be awesome."

" Don't know what half the instruments are that you play but I would love to hear you play them."

" Maybe you can come over and study at my house sometime, see my music room." She smirked " maybe I could teach you how to play the violin?"

"It's just a tiny guitar right?" I smiled and stood up." I'm glad we did this, I think that we are going to work well together."

"I think so too, I think your going to graduate this year Eddie Munson. I will do everything I can to help you get your diploma. Just don't give me any shit." She smirked.

" I have to give you a little shit. "

" I will just have to give it right back."

"Promise me you will."

" Promise."

I offered her my hand to help her up, she accepted with a smile.

" So I will see you tomorrow? And 3 days a week from here on out?"

" Absolutely, I'm all in this year. This is going to be our year

#eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things

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salsedine · 11 months

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✨10 facts about me✨

I was tagged by @greypetrel (hello! 💙✨) and in return I tag @mafaldinablabla - but no pressure!

1. I have a somewhat complicated relationship with food, so cooking for myself is often more like a chore than a pleasure - but cooking for other people? Or even just helping? LOVE IT. When I still had a decent oven I used to bake a lot, usually cakes and pastries, and I kind of miss it. Yes, I have a Pinterest folder full of recipes. Yes, I tried to make bread during the first lockdown. It didn't go well- you could have sculpted that thing.

2. While growing up I did a bunch of different sports, like swimming or soccer or a few years of tennis, and while in high school I was enrolled by the teacher into some kind of "athletics youth competition" in the high jump category. STUFF happened and at the actual competition I ended up doing the obstacles and relay race with absolutely no training whatsoever. Yayyy.

3. All the sports mentioned in number 2? Yeah, sorry but dance is my biggest love. No questions. I took dance classes for about seven years- but spread over three cities, three schools, and with many gaps. I wish I did things differently, because I miss it constantly. Currently I'm taking hatha yoga classes, but the plan is to return to dance, eventually.

4. I had a dog, Joe. Look at himmm!

But now I'd love to adopt a cat, preferably an adult one. But really, I'm not picky, and I'm definitely not dismissing kitties.

5. I love the sea and any body of water... but lakes are a little bit unsettling.

6. I tend to over-explain myself because I'm legitimately scared of being misunderstood. "Detto non detto" is my enemy, and the "silence treatment" should be a crime against the Geneva convention.

7. The Tudors (and late XVth to late XVIth century in general) are among my favourite topics when it comes to history - I dislike monarchies even as a concept, so I don't even know why I'm so interested in them. I read too much Shakespeare? They put the "fun" in disfunctional family? Their rule coincide with my favourite historical period? Who knows, not me.

8. I wanted to get a PhD but eventually chose otherwise. It would have been either an art history one, or a multidisciplinary one (a mixture of history and cultural anthropology, mostly) on borders' studies.

9. I'm really fascinated by body modifications, both as a cultural practice and from an aesthetic/artistic point of view - which is funny, considering that I only have a few piercings on my ears and 0 (z-e-r-o) tattoos. I should probably get more piercings.

10. While I dislike pink when it comes to fashion, I often use it while painting - especially magenta or similar hues.

That was it, bye!

#things i've been tagged on #i swear that when i try really hard i can be a vaguely interesting person #thanks for the tag ✨✨!

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rotisseries · 8 months

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mason and corey show up at the hospital. all the doctors n nurses are starting at them. they realize that coming here was planned. some guys came in n with guns and mason n corey hide in some room and then theyre like . yeah we're bait. at the end of the ep, while scott and malia are training with deucalion, monroe shows up ans guns him down. and he dies. ans now the finale of the whole show starts. i should tell you now. theo was gonna leave beacon hills n not look back. its implied from what he says the liam later and the fact the next time we see him, the last episode, he was in his car driving somewhere. and it was probably because of what mason said, and how he saw how scared he was of him. so. yeah. probably thought it was best to just leave and not bother anyone.

the ep starts at the end. like the jump to an epilogue/after before showing what happened fr. im only mentioning this bc scott saved a kid in mexico from hunters and chris argent (reformed hunter) was driving him and helping him and hes been helping for awhile. he used to hate and despise and hunt scott. and now he believes in him. scott said to alec, the kid he saved, "some people i thought i could never trust, ended up saving my life. more than once" like ... Theo? or am i crazy🙄. cuts back to the shootout w monroe and stiles and derek show up and WE'VE GOT THR GANG BACK TOGETHER! they take out the hunters. the hunters retreat n drive off. theyre all catching up talkinf n then stiles jeep or sum idk gets a radio transmission from gerard and its some shakespeare quote and asks scott if he "knows the rest" and derek knows it and says as much. basically declaring war. and then he tells him where to find everyone. jackson + ethan are at the armory (hunter hq). parrish is at eichen house. scotts dad is in a holding cell. liam corey and mason are at the hospital. scott CALLS THEO. HE SAYS "Just buy us more time. wherever liam and the others are get them out of there." "am i buying you time to come up with a plan or to get help?" "both." theo makes a u-turn immediately .

yay!!

#ask #ghoultaffy #hi jayme!

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ladylynse · 3 years

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Dimensional Displacement [FFN | AO3]: Danny has a love-hate relationship with the Fenton Booo-merang. This time, it didn’t do him any favours. This time, it knocked him through a portal—and from what he can glean from the Water Tribe siblings he meets, odds are, there’s a reason for that.

-|-

For @geronimo-alonzi as a thank you for donating to my ko-fi. (Yes, they won my fic giveaway, but I finished this one first.) Loosely based on this three sentence fic.

-|-

Danny had been clobbered in the head by the Fenton Booo-merang more often than he’d like to admit, let alone count, but this was the first time it had knocked him through a portal.

That wouldn’t have been a particularly bad thing if the portal hadn’t immediately closed behind him.

One minute, he’d been minding his own business in the Ghost Zone, coming back from a visit with Frostbite that Jazz must have forgotten about if she’d sent the Booo-merang after him. (Sam was stuck with her parents at some fancy dinner party thing somewhere and Tucker was working on designing a computer game for his comp sci assignment, a class neither Sam nor Danny was in, so it had to have been Jazz.)

The next minute, Danny was…. He didn’t even know where he was. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. He’d caught the Booo-merang before either he or it had hit the ground, but once he’d righted himself to look around, there was no familiar skyline or something equally useful to him. There were only trees and rocks and dirt roads as far as the eye could see, even from a considerable distance up in the air.

Well.

That wasn’t quite fair. He could see a silver river cutting through the trees in a path roughly parallel to the road, but in terms of helpful things, he was coming up empty.

He didn’t even know which direction he’d need to fly to get to a city. It was too light out to see any distant glow of city lights against the scattered clouds, and all he could smell when he breathed in was fresh air and pine needles and something else—moss? The general mix that was pretty much mulch on the forest floor?—that was decidedly natural, not the signs of human activity he’d been hoping for. Sure, following the road or even the river would get him somewhere sooner or later, but what was he supposed to do, pick a random direction or go eenie meenie minie moe?

Danny did another loop above the trees, looking for some sign of anything, and came up with nothing.

“Come on!” Danny yelled at the patch of blue sky where the portal had closed. He spun in a circle, the Booo-merang clutched tightly in his fist, but it didn’t pull in any direction, and he didn’t catch so much as a glimmer of the familiar green of the Ghost Zone. “Just open up again already!” It was as effective as he’d expected it to be, which was not at all, but screaming out his frustrations made him feel a bit better. “Now! Please?”

Unsurprisingly, the portal didn’t listen.

Out of appealing options, Danny threw the Booo-merang. Logically, he knew it wasn’t the Infi-Map. Logically, he knew that the universe did not often do what was convenient for him, even if he sometimes got incredibly lucky in a fight. Logically, he knew that the chances of the Booo-merang deciding to reprogram itself to find portals just because it had done it this one time (likely coincidentally) were slim to none.

Illogically, he didn’t expect the stupid thing to circle around and hit him in the back of the head again.

Danny cursed and landed to retrieve the fallen Booo-mang from the roadway, muttering under his breath about how much he’d like to just dismantle the thing and hide the pieces. He wouldn’t, of course. It worked too well to risk Sam, Tucker, and Jazz losing the ability to find him if they really needed to. It had been dicey enough the few times his parents had decided to try to ‘fix’ it, only for disaster (Vlad) to strike in the meantime.

That didn’t mean Danny couldn’t fantasize about bashing it against a rock, though. There were plenty of those around.

“That’s a weird looking boomerang,” someone said from behind him, and Danny nearly jumped into the air right there.

He didn’t, mostly because he was getting used to Sam and Tucker trying to surprise him, but it was a near thing.

He wasn’t used to people sneaking up on him. His ghost sense was reliable, Dash made more noise walking around than even Jack Fenton, and, well, most of the people who hunted him couldn’t be subtle if they tried, especially since a good chunk of them liked hearing their own voice. He’d only ever really had to worry about Jazz, and self-preservation in the face of tickle attacks had given him the ability to be extra sensitive to her presence whenever she was in a certain mood.

The two who’d caught him by surprise now must have come from the trees on the other side of the road, and he hoped that meant they hadn’t seen him do anything particularly ghostly. Granted, neither of them was screaming, so he should be safe. They didn’t look terrified, either. Wary, maybe, but not scared.

Danny guessed that they were both somewhere around his age. Siblings, by the looks of them, but probably not twins even if they’d both decided to leave the house wearing oddly styled blue clothes today, at least compared to the usual jeans and T-shirt combo Danny was used to seeing. Unless he wasn’t anywhere near the States anymore? Or unless he’d been flung through to a different time. But the boy had spoken English, and it hadn’t sounded funny to Danny’s ears, no lilt of a foreign accent or strange phrasing that he associated with Shakespeare or something.

The girl was his height, the boy a bit taller, and they were both staring at him.

They probably thought he was the one who was dressed strangely.

The boy pointed. “Your boomerang,” he repeated. “It looks weird.”

The girl elbowed him in the gut—none too gently, judging by his immediate wheeze—and hissed, “Sokka!”

Yeah, those two were definitely siblings. And even if the girl wasn’t older, she definitely had the annoying (and annoyed) sister tone down pat. Danny had heard (and been on the receiving end of) the same from similar exchanges with Jazz more than once.

“Sokka’s going to apologize, right, Sokka?”

The boy frowned and then threw up his hands. “Right. I apologize for saying your boomerang looks weird. It looks interesting.”

The girl stepped on his foot, and he yelped. “What was that for?”

“You know what that was for!”

“It’s fine,” Danny said. He still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Maybe the portal had dumped him out in the middle of some historical re-enactment thing. Granted, there should really be more people around if that were the case—or at least hidden cameras. He was better at spotting them now. Vlad and his creepy spy tendencies aside, Danny had gotten good at noticing (and avoiding) cameras so he didn’t let his secret get caught on tape. (There were a surprising number of places in Amity Park not under video surveillance, or at least not under real video surveillance even if they had fake cameras out; he could practically transform in the middle of the street sometimes.)

Still, nothing about this felt staged. It didn’t even feel like one of his enemy’s tricks, some giant setup that was meant to trap him or whatever. That’s not to say Danny was wholly convinced this meeting, whatever it was, was merely chance—he didn’t particularly trust Clockwork not to arrange things as he saw fit without warning anyone—but it didn’t feel overly contrived, either. There was just….

Something felt off, and he couldn’t explain what it was.

“It’s fine,” Danny repeated, since the two were looking at him dubiously, but the familiar phrase felt strange on his tongue, almost like—

Wait.

“Okay, this is going to sound like a weird question, but where are we?”

The boy, Sokka, blinked. “Did you hit your head or something? We’re in the Earth Kingdom. Or, wait, do you mean where in the Earth Kingdom? Look, if you need new supplies, there’s not much in the last few villages, but we’re about a day from—”

The girl elbowed him again, and he fell silent. Danny could see the growing suspicion on her face for what it was, could see suspicion settling on the boy’s face as well, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he’d asked the wrong question or because he’d asked something at all. He’d been paying attention this time, watching Sokka’s lips, and Danny didn’t have to be a good lip reader to know that he hadn’t been saying the words Danny had heard.

Well.

More accurately, he hadn’t been saying them in English.

And Danny, in answering, had somehow not been speaking English.

That was not, as far as Danny was aware, something Clockwork could do to him.

He didn’t know a ghost who had power over language, though, unless the Ghostwriter had something else up his sleeve and this mess was it. Nocturne would be able to pull anything in a dream, but Danny couldn’t see why he’d bother including something that would be an obvious tell like this, so it shouldn’t be him even if he had decided to come back. More likely, it was someone he hadn’t fought before, someone who had targeted him, seen an opportunity when the Booo-merang had hit him and seized upon it to throw him…here.

Wherever here was.

The Earth Kingdom, apparently.

“Um.” The girl still looked like she expected him to start fighting, and her stance…. Danny didn’t recognize it, but he did know that she looked ready to move at any moment. Her brother had taken her cue and, while Danny hadn’t been paying attention, pulled out a boomerang of his own. That couldn’t be good. “Look. I know how this sounds.” How he sounded, more like. If he had some accent he couldn’t hear because he wasn’t speaking their language properly, whatever it was, this had to be a setup after all.

Someone had sent him here to be dealt with. By this world, this dimension or construct or whatever it was, if not necessarily by these two people.

Granted, Danny wasn’t sure why someone would go to the trouble of letting him understand and be understood in the first place if that were the case, since he could get in just as much trouble without speaking the native language.

Surely he wasn’t actually supposed to help someone here, right? This wasn’t even his world. Or the Ghost Zone. Whatever was going on here was most definitely not his business.

Except now he was in the middle of it, so if there was something going on, it would be beneficial to find out what it was sooner rather than later.

This wasn’t some Jumanji kind of thing where he’d been tossed into a game and had to do whatever it was to get out again, was it? It didn’t feel like the time he’d gone into Doomed, but that had been intentional, and this….

Okay, no, he didn’t have enough information to speculate, which meant he needed to get some information out of these two in order to get somewhere. “I just…. I was kidnapped and dumped here for some reason, and I’m trying to find my way home.” That was close enough to the truth that it shouldn’t raise any red flags. Hopefully. “My name is Danny.” Introducing himself as Phantom, even in ghost mode, wasn’t something he wanted to do when he had no idea how these people felt about ghosts. Besides, it wasn’t like they’d ever see him as Fenton. He just needed to stick to the ground and pretend to be a normal human being, which he could most definitely do—at least when the sun was bright enough that his slight glow was basically nonexistent. He doubted it would be terribly noticeable even under the cover of trees.

“Danny,” the girl repeated, not relaxing her stance. “That’s an unusual name.”

Sokka just cocked his head at Danny. “Why would anyone kidnap you?”

It was spoken like it was an innocent, thoughtless question, something that could be brushed away with a laugh, but Danny could read an underlying tension in each of their faces. Sokka was waiting on his answer, and so was his sister. Danny’s response might very well determine what happened next.

Consequently, Danny didn’t miss the fact that Sokka didn’t offer up any potential explanations that he could jump on.

Another lie wasn’t going to do him any favours, not when he knew so little. “I don’t know.” He could guess, but he didn’t know. From the looks of it, though, these two wouldn’t be satisfied with that. Chances were good they wouldn’t be particularly satisfied with his suspicions, either, which was that someone wanted him out of the way for whatever they were planning—or maybe that someone had decided they wanted to have a little fun with him at his expense, if world domination wasn’t on the table. “My parents are inventors. Maybe that’s why?”

“That doesn’t explain why whoever took you would leave you here,” Sokka pointed out, and Danny wished these two weren’t so smart. “If you were taken because you were valuable, you wouldn’t have been left behind unguarded.”

“So maybe they kidnapped the wrong person and realized that I wasn’t who they wanted?”

Sokka exchanged glances with his sister before murmuring, “We can ask Toph. I mean, it’s possible they found us, but if he is really a Fire Nation plant picked solely for his eye colour, they’d have at least dyed his hair and given him some normal clothes.”

Danny decided not to ask who the heck picked people for something based on eye colour and not skill or merit or experience or something normal like that. Aside from derailing the conversation from anything potentially useful, Danny was pretty sure Sokka hadn’t realized he’d been overheard, and it wouldn’t be in Danny’s best interests to let them know how good his hearing was.

Still, he took the opportunity to tuck away the Booo-merang before they could ask any questions about it that he wasn’t up to answering. Maybe it would make him seem like less of a threat if they didn’t think he was ready to use it as a weapon—not that he knew how to use a boomerang as a weapon, but he was pretty sure Sokka hadn’t pulled his out to see which of them could throw it farther or throw it properly—and maybe then they’d trust him enough to answer his questions. Hopefully. He was perfectly willing to meet this Toph if it meant figuring out where he was and how to get home, especially since it would be easy enough for him to cut and run later.

The movement was enough to draw the attention of the siblings, though, and both pairs of eyebrows rose. Had they not expected him to make what he hoped would be taken as a gesture of trust or were they wondering how the heck he’d gotten it into his pocket? Maybe they thought he was trying to hide it, which wouldn’t help matters at all. Then again, if they thought that he thought it had been a subtle move, then maybe—

No.

He had to stop doing this. He didn’t know enough about these two to try to guess their thoughts, let alone what actions they might take against him.

Danny shifted on his feet, glad they hadn’t jumped to attacking and that they weren’t even asking questions about the Booo-merang, since practically anything about it would be difficult to answer. At least they hadn’t seen him flying. Even for people familiar with ghosts, unknown ones tended to be cause for concern until their threat level was assessed, and Danny didn’t want to invite trouble and immediately find out what this world had that messed with ghosts. Sure, he wanted to know what could hurt him here, but finding out while it wasn’t actively being used against him was infinitely preferable.

“Where did you say you were from?” the girl asked after a beat, even though they all knew he’d never said anything about that.

“Nowhere you would know,” he hedged, which was true enough.

“We travel a lot,” the girl said, and her brother snorted.

“What Katara means is, try us. If we can help you get back to your family, what do you have to lose?” Sokka offered Danny a grin, and his stance had visibly relaxed, even if he hadn’t put his boomerang away. It might be just for show, especially since he still had a weapon out, but at least the girl hadn’t drawn any knives or something like that. “Look, from one guy to another, you don’t need to make up some crazy story if you’re a runaway or something like that. We’re basically runaways.”

“We’re running towards something, not away from it.”

“We were almost runaways.” To Danny, Sokka added, “Gran caught us, but she let us go.”

Katara rolled her eyes, and Danny looked between the two of them as Sokka continued talking. It was obvious that they’d changed tack for some reason, no doubt trying to get him to trust them, but the blatant switch made him uneasy. Did they not realize how obvious that was or was this just their usual dynamic?

“I’m from Amity,” Danny eventually interrupted. He knew from the way that they were looking at him that neither of them had forgotten he had yet to answer the question. He’d already told them they wouldn’t know the place, so technically he could’ve said Amity Park, but for all he knew, these two had been sent to get information out of him, and the less he told a potential enemy, the better.

Come to think of it, maybe he shouldn’t have told them his real name, and maybe he should’ve just made up a village name rather than dropping heavy hints about his hometown.

“Which is near—?”

Danny ignored Sokka’s prompt. He didn’t even have a good enough idea of the geography of this place to make that up, especially when there was a chance they knew the area, runaways or no. “Do you know where I could get some water? I haven’t found any since I woke up.” That wasn’t true, but they wouldn’t know that unless they were getting some more intel about him from someone unseen.

The siblings looked at each other again, and then Katara faced him and said, “We’re headed to the river. Come with us. You can get your water, and we can share our catch if we get anything.”

“Wait, I didn’t agree to share my meat!” Sokka exclaimed. Katara’s only answer was a dirty look, but it was enough to have Sokka subsiding into grumbles.

“I’m not hungry yet,” Danny said, which also strictly wasn’t true, but he knew he didn’t need to eat much.

“You might be hungry by the time we’re finished,” Katara said over Sokka’s griping.

Danny hesitated, trying to figure out how weird it would be if he made up some excuse not to go with them. What were the chances that this was a trap when he’d brought up the river—or at least water—before they had? It wasn’t that he thought they’d be able to take him out if it came to that, even if Jazz had more experience fighting normally than he did, since he typically relied a lot on his powers when he could.

These two might be better fighters than him—there were almost certainly better hunters, given how silently they could walk—but he’d always have something like intangibility in his back pocket if it came to it, and they wouldn’t. Still, when it came down to it, he wasn’t used to fighting humans. What if he didn’t pull his punches enough and seriously hurt one of them?

“You can tell us about Amity,” Katara added. “We’ve never been there.”

Danny really hoped that was true and that there wasn’t a place in this world called Amity that they knew well. Still, when they started walking, spreading out so he was always in sight and they never had their backs to him, even when they hit the trees on the other side of the road, he kept pace with them. “It’s pretty much like you’d expect.” Except for the ghosts. At least his ghost sense hadn’t gone off here. Yet. “This is probably the farthest I’ve ever travelled from home.” He couldn’t get much farther away than a completely different dimension that (probably) wasn’t as connected to his world as it was to the Ghost Zone, anyway—unless he counted when he’d time travelled, but he wasn’t about to bring that up.

Katara opened her mouth to ask another question, maybe to press him for details, so Danny cut her off. “What about you two?”

They looked at each other again. How many times were they going to do that? Hadn’t they already decided how far to trust him? Danny knew it wasn’t very far, but they’d clearly decided he wasn’t going to straight up attack them at this precise moment, so even if they didn’t tell him the whole truth—

Sokka gestured at their clothes. “We’re Water Tribe.”

He said it like it was obvious, like Danny should’ve known already, but of course it explained absolutely nothing.

“Southern Water Tribe,” Katara added unhelpfully, despite Sokka’s frown. “We wanted to see the world, and now we are.”

As cover stories went, it was better than Danny’s. Barely. “Right,” he said, wondering again why he’d been dumped in the path of these two. “It’s a nice world to see.”

Somehow, that was the wrong thing to say, because they were both looking at him like they’d expected him to say anything but that. “What?”

“There’s a war on, you’re supposedly kidnapped and dropped off somewhere in occupied territory without any of the proper paperwork, and the best you can come up with is it’s a nice world to see?” Sokka turned his incredulous look from Danny to Katara. “He cannot be Fire Nation. This kid is more sheltered than Toph was supposed to be.”

Danny, who had stumbled at the word war, kept walking and hoped they hadn’t noticed. If they had, maybe they’d think he’d tripped over a tree root or fallen branch or hole or something. They weren’t following a trail, so that was a perfectly reasonable explanation, right?

“It’s all right,” Katara said as she reached out to touch his arm, and, okay, from that gentle tone, which was a complete change from anything earlier, it must mean she had noticed, knew he hadn’t tripped over anything in the terrain, and—from how she was looking at him now—thought it wasn’t surprise that had tripped Danny up, either. “Trust me, I know what it’s like to be a little naïve until you have a chance to leave home for the first time, but unless you’re got a camp around here, you’re not prepared at all.”

Sokka finally put his boomerang away and smirked at Danny. “We at least left home with supplies.”

“Did you have to run without any warning?” Katara asked, giving her brother a pointed look.

“Oh, uh, kinda.” Danny winced, knowing that had to sound like a lie. “I…I didn’t really plan on leaving when I did. This just…happened.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow, but Katara said, “You don’t have to worry. We’re the last people who would turn you in to the Fire Nation.”

Right. So the Fire Nation were the bad guys, at least according to the Water Tribe and, if he was putting things together correctly, the Earth Kingdom, where they were. Meaning the Fire Nation had invaded the Earth Kingdom if this was occupied territory. Danny thought about asking why these two had come into occupied territory themselves and then decided he didn’t want to risk getting into a discussion that would show off how little he knew. If they had decided he was a runaway who knew practically nothing about the world, well, that worked in his favour.

“Thanks.” Danny wasn’t sure what else to say. “Why are you helping me, though? Won’t that put you in danger?” That had to be a fair question in this situation.

“We can’t help everyone,” Katara said quietly, “but we can help some people, even if it’s just a tiny bit. Sometimes, that has to be enough.”

Danny really didn’t know what to say to that, because she certainly wouldn’t understand if he said he knew the feeling, so he smiled weakly in thanks and let the conversation drop.

They were still watching him, but they were more subtle about it now, and it didn’t look like they were watching him more closely than they were watching everything else.

Being downgraded from a threat was a win, though. Danny hoped he didn’t do anything to mess it up.

“There’s no shame in being a refugee,” Sokka said after a moment. “Being from a richer family might’ve bought you an isolated childhood, but it wouldn’t guarantee your safety.”

“We won’t try to hold you for ransom if you tell us where you’re really from,” added Katara.

Danny glanced at her. “I said I was from Amity.”

“I could say I have a platypus bear as a pet,” Sokka interjected. “That doesn’t make it true.”

“We know what it’s like, thinking you understand the way things are and then realizing how little you know,” Katara said quietly. “It can be overwhelming.”

“And it would explain why you’re in your nightclothes,” Sokka said. He’d come in range of Katara’s fist, but he danced out of the way as she swung in his direction. He hadn’t even needed to look at her to know it was coming. “You didn’t know enough to keep your valuables hidden and got robbed your first night on your own, didn’t you?”

“I—” Danny knew it was an excuse for his ignorance being handed to him on a silver platter, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep up with a lie like that when he knew so little. “These aren’t my pajamas,” he said instead. Let them believe what they wanted to believe; that would make his life easier. Even if it blew up in his face somehow, he could truthfully say he’d never said they were right.

They might be suspicious that he hadn’t outright denied it, but then again, he’d already told them something a lot closer to the truth.

“Uh huh.” Sokka glanced at Katara again, and she gave a slight shake her head that Danny didn’t understand.

“Let’s get you some food and water first,” Katara said. “Then we can see about finding you other supplies.”

Danny decided not to point out that they’d already told him it was slim pickings for supplies around here. Not that he had the money to pay for anything, but Sokka had already guessed that. Besides, they thought he was running around in his pjs.

Judging by the sour look on Sokka’s face, he’d evidently translated his sister’s words to mean that she wanted to give him some of their supplies, something Sokka clearly wasn’t sure he approved of.

Katara must have had similar thoughts on Sokka’s expression, since she murmured, “It’s this or bring him with us, and you know what’s safer.”

Katara might not have minded that Danny could overhear her last words, but Sokka closed the distance between them, pulling his sister farther away from Danny before hissing, “It’s not the only option, and you know it. We can’t afford to give away any of our supplies, and just because Toph can make sure he’s not coming in with the intention of stabbing us in the back, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t blab to anyone once he figures out who we’re travelling with. You know as well as I do that that wouldn’t take very long.”

“He’s just kid.”

“Technically, like Aang keeps reminding us, we’re just kids. Who very much cannot afford to so much as drop him off in the next village. Show him the river and teach him how to catch and cook his meals? Fine. Picking him up as a stray when he’s not bringing anything to the table? Not fine.”

“He’s lost.”

“So? He’s not hurt. He’s already in a better position than some refugees. He’ll survive until he can walk to the nearest settlement. Then he can try to get help from people who can actually give it.”

Katara bit her lip and slowed to a stop. “There’s something else.”

“What?”

Danny very much wanted to know the answer to that—what had Katara figured out?—but he tried not to react so they didn’t know he’d been listening in. He deliberately turned away and stared around the trees instead, a mix of deciduous and evergreen. He couldn’t pick out any specific types of trees—nothing distinctive like oak leaves that he could see—and, as far as he could tell, the woods were utterly devoid of critters. He had no idea if that was because this world wasn’t real or if it was simply because all the animals in the region had had warning of their coming and hidden accordingly.

Danny knew his disinterest wouldn’t be very convincing, but if he was lucky, they’d think he’d given up on trying to eavesdrop.

“There’s something…off about him. Not necessarily something wrong, but something different. I can’t…. When he asked about water, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t hiding any on him or nearby in case it was a trap, and— He didn’t feel the same as you or me. I can’t explain it. Toph might have a better idea than I do. Or…or Aang.” The last word was a barely audible whisper.

“You think this might be a spirit thing?” Sokka’s response was closer to a suppressed shriek than anything else, and Danny winced.

“I think he might be spirit touched,” Katara answered, and Sokka’s sharp inhalation was painfully audible. “I wasn’t good enough back then to notice anything about Yue, but—”

“Fine.” Sokka’s voice had gone flat. “I don’t want to shun someone and accidentally anger the spirits. I’ll teach him to fish. You go back and interrupt advanced earthbending practice and pick a meeting place, but make sure everyone’s packed in case this doesn’t go the way you think it’ll go.”

“I know to be careful.”

“We all know to be careful. Some of us just need more reminding than others.”

Katara didn’t say anything else, but she must have nodded or done something similar because Danny heard Sokka stalk back over to him. “Katara’s going back to talk to the rest of our group about what we might be able to spare,” he said as Danny turned back to face him, “and I’ll show you how to fish in the meantime. If you don’t catch anything, I’ll give you one of mine.”

Danny wasn’t about to admit that he’d overheard their entire conversation, so he smiled and said, “That sounds great, thanks.” It didn’t stop the uneasiness from settling in his gut, though. Sure, now he knew these people believed in ghosts, and Sokka’s response made it clear he didn’t want to get on their bad side, but Danny had no idea what being spirit touched meant. He didn’t know if that was seen as a good thing or a bad thing.

More to the point, if it was a bad thing, he didn’t know if these people had something suitable with which to attack spirit touched people, since if they did, chances were good that it would work on him.

He was not lucky enough to get a free pass here.

Still, the odds were good that he’d be able to escape if they did attack since he’d know to be on watch for something, and he wasn’t about to turn down an offer of food. He had no idea when a portal would open and he’d be able to go home. Until then, the best he could do was survive.

He’d survived this much, and his life had hardly been a walk in the park since the accident, let alone before. He wasn’t about to let some ghost fling him into an unknown world and succeed in taking him down. He needed to get out of this to kick their butt and prove to them that they couldn’t get rid of him that easily.

Assuming this wasn’t all a series of genuine coincidences and not the result of the careful manipulation of events.

Danny didn’t want to think about that, though.

He had a much better chance of getting home if there was someone he could beat, and he was going to get home.

Somehow.

(see more fics)

#danny phantom #atla #avatar the last airbender #danny fenton #sokka #katara #crossover #fanfiction #dp fanfiction #atla fanfiction #my writing #ladylynse #snippets #crossover snippet #geronimo-alonzi

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emf005 · 3 years

Text

Love is real

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff! Reader

Warnings: FLUFF!! Draco is a complete softy and it's adorable, talk of suicide, confusion, a bit of angst...

Summery: You are a huffelpuff who doesn't belive in love. Draco is unsatisfied and devises a plan to get you to belive and possibly fall, in love.

You set your chin on Draco’ shoulder and looked at what he was doing. Potions. Groan. You hated potions with a passion.

“Draaaaacooooo!” you sang in his ear. He tried to keep a straight face but just ended up biting his lip from trying not to laugh. “Draaaaaaacoooooo,” you sang again.

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked, attempting and failing to hold back a chuckle.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Potions.” You frowned.

“But I’m sooooo much more interesting!” You grinned. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, Darling, you are. But I need to finish this.”

“Why?”

“Because it's graded.”

“Why?”

“Because Snape made it that way.”

“Wh-” he put a hand over your face and glanced at you with an arched eyebrow.

“You aren’t going to let me get anything done, are you?” You shook your head like a little kid. He chuckled and took his hand away from your face and set down his quill. “You just don't like potions because you aren’t a natural at it.” You pouted at his completely true statement.

“It's boring! And Snape has a personal vendetta against me!” You crossed your arms and pouted, making him laugh.

“Aw, you poor thing,” he teased, rolling his eyes and going back to his work. You took a seat next to him and put your hands on your arms. He worked silently for a few minuets before finishing and packing everything up. “I still can’t believe you made me take muggle studies with you,” he huffed as he slung his bag over his shoulder. You giggled and walked with him through the halls.

“It's an easy grade!”

“For you maybe! You're halfblooded! I still don’t understand the function of a toaster! What's its purpose?”

“To toast bread! It is literally in its name!” You laughed.

“And then phones. What is the purpose when you can just send a letter?” You giggled and took your seats near the back of the class.

“It's faster! And plus it's like talking face to face but from long distances!” He just shook his head and leaned back in his seat.

“Magical culture is just better.” He sighed and you rolled your eyes.

“Welcome everyone! Welcome welcome!” The professor called out to the class. “Today we will be discussing muggle stories.” He said excitedly, though most of the class didn't want to even be there. “We are starting with Romeo and Juliet By William Shakespeare.” You groaned and slouched in your seat. Draco raised an eyebrow at you.

“What's with the reaction?”

“This is one of the most Cliché plays ever.” You hissed. “The love,” you made a gagging noise.

“A Hufflepuff who isn't a fan of love?” he teased, but you just glared at him. His smirk fell. “Wait, you really don’t believe in love?”

“It's a chemical reaction humans have to other humans. Its natural instinct to get them to reproduce,” you explained with a curt nod. He just stared at you.

“You must be joking.” You stared him down before turning back to the professor to listen about the play that is so overrated.

“Y/N!” Draco called, running down the hallway after you. “Y/N, wait a second!” You paused and smiled as he caught up with you. “You can't just say something like that and just leave.”

“I think I just did. And I’m about to do it again.” You turned and started walking away but he grabbed your wrist.

“Why though? You're a Hufflepuff!”

“And you're stereotyping again. Listen, Draco,” you sighed and rubbed your temples. “My home life isn't the best. Love lacks in nearly all aspects of my life. You can care for something deeply, but love isn’t… its not…. Its a lie.”

“You can’t actually believe that.” You shrugged, tugging at your sleeves.

“All my life, its what I’ve seen. My mother and father have been through more divorces than I can count. My siblings are in horrible relationships and they are at their partners throats all the time.” You admitted quietly. “Someone is always in tears because their heart is being torn out. If love was real they wouldn’t constantly be miserable,” you turned and slipped your wrist from his grasp and took off down the hallway. He just watched after you.

He had been friends with you since first year, complained to you about his home life, about his expectations, and all the while… you were dealing with your own struggles. How hadn’t he noticed that before? Well, he was going to change that. He’d get you to believe in love. He didn't know how, but he would!

“Y/L/N!” You turned to Draco as he jogged down the hall at you. You were heading to muggle studies. You smiled at your friend as he slowed to a walk.

“Where's the fire?”

“I have a proposition for you. A bet of a sort.” You hummed, never able to turn down a bet. “If I am able to get you to believe in love by the Yule Ball, you have to go. Not with someone, you just have to go.” You cocked your brow at him.

“What if I win?”

“Well, you won’t, but if you do I’ll leave you alone about it.”

“No teasing, no bringing it up?”

“Zip.” You inhaled and thought about it.

“Alright. Deal, Malfoy. If you can do the impossible, then I will go to the Yule Ball. But if not, you have to stop bothering me about it indefinitely.” You stuck out your hand. “Shake on it?”

“Don’t trust me?”

“Can never be too careful with you,” you teased. He shook your hand and you headed to class.

You sat in your usual seat at the back of the class, a copy of Romeo and Juliet sitting on the table. You groaned. He smirked.

“Well, look. The most Cliché story in all of history,” he teased.

“They kill themselves for each other.” You hummed. He paled and looked at the story. “They also get a lot of other people killed in the process.”

“That's horrible!”

“That's romance! People who can control you because they stole your heart! They can manipulate you, think you can’t live without them!” He just stared at you.

“Nothing about love appeals to you at all, does it?”

“No.” You looked away, his eyes widened.

“You’re lying!”

“No.”

“Yes you are!”

“Shush! No, I’m not! Nothing about it appeals to me! It has destroyed people! Why would that be appealing to anyone?” He shook his head.

“That may be true, but you were lying. Are you afraid of it?” You laughed. It was fake.

“Scared of love? That's a good one!” His mouth dropped and you knew there was no getting out of this.” You stood and ran out of the room. You’ve read Romeo and Juliet before, you would get whatever assignment that was given from someone else in the class.

Being afraid of love. What a joke you were. He was probably laughing his head off at you. You would be.

He didn't see you for a few days after that. He wanted to talk to you about what you had said. You did have a bet, but to make sure you were alright.

He sat in the library and he heard your voice from the isles. He jumped up and scurried to where you were. You were trying to reach a book on the shelf but struggling. He grabbed it off the shelf for you and handed it to you.

“Oh! Then-” you paused when you saw him. You turned and started to turn.

“Wait wait wait!” You stopped and turned back around, your eyes were sad.

“What do you want, Draco?” You sighed and looked down. “Wanna laugh at me? The Hufflepuff afraid of falling in love?” He shook his head.

“No! No, I wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked really upset.” You were speechless.

“Oh! Oh. Um, I’m ok.”

“Did you really think I would make fun of you for that?” He looked kind of hurt.

“I mean, maybe? It's ironic how I’m a Hufflepuff and how out of touch with my own, or anyone else's, feelings I am. I don’t trust people, Draco. I never really have. And I trust you, but… this stupid wall that I’ve built up is just to tall for me to tear down. It was better to avoid you and not see you laugh at me,” you said quietly and looked down at your feet. “Uh, sorry.” He just stared at you for a moment before doing something Draco Malfoy did not do. He pulled you into a hug. You were shocked for a second before hugging him back, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

“I understand, I’m sorry,” he muttered to you, and in that moment you realized something. Something utterly horrible and terrible. You did believe in love... because you were in it. You were in it so much, that you didn't even realize that you were in it. And you were in love with your best friend. This could ruin yours and his life. Because that's what love did. It took and it took and it took and then it left you broken on the pavement with no one. You had seen it happen before. You had wanted it so bad up until that moment. And then you had buried that emotion deep inside of you so that you would never have to go through it. But now it was surfacing. Ready to destroy you just like it did to Romeo and Juliet.

Ever since your realization, you had buried it in an even deeper hole, but that hole turned into a cavern that threatened to swallow you. Every time he was near you, talking to you about love and how great it actually could be, your heart was pounding. You were deaf to everything else but him. You hated it. You couldn't stand it! It was tearing you apart from the inside out and you wanted to just die!

No!

No no no no no. No dying. You would not be one of those people. Ever. You would win this bet. You would kill these feelings and be the normal happy Hufflepuff you were known to be!

“Hey, Y/N!” Your stomach fluttered and your heart skipped a beat.

Dammit!

“Hey, Darco,” you said happily, turning around to face him. “What's up?”

“Well, since the bet’s almost over and the Yule Ball is coming up, I have one more idea.” You swallowed. Not another one! This boy was going to kill you.

Stop being such a stereotypical Juliet!

“I think it would only be fitting to give you the full experience of what it can be like.”

You chuckled softly and readjusted your books. “Oh yeah, Dray? Like what? Take me on a date?” You teased.

“Actually yeah.” You stopped walking. Your heart stopped beating. Your entire body stopped functioning.

“Wh-what?”

“I mean, let's be honest. I can tell you everything that's great about it and how every relationship doesn’t end up with someone getting their heart broken, but you have to actually see what a romantic situation is!”

No!!!

“Yeah sure,” you shrugged. “When and where?” He beamed.

“I’ll pick you up at your dorm tomorrow at seven.” He smiled and walked on. Your smile dropped and you nearly collapsed.

Why did I agree! Why why why why? What the fuck is wrong with me?

You smacked your head off the wall earning a few strange looks from your peers but didn't stick around to see if they would ask you if you were ok or not. You took off towards the Hufflepuff dorms. Your stomach twisting and turning with every step you took.

You were finally safe in your dorm room only to see your friend, Maria, staring at you from her bed.

"Y/N? What's wrong? Why do you look like you've been running away from something?" You started to sob and she was in her feet with her arms around you within two seconds, shushing you and telling you it was alright. But it wasn't. "What happened?"

"Re-remember when I told you about my family. And how my mum and dad have been divorced and-and my siblings always end up crying over lost loves and and and how my brother threw himself off a bridge because-because of it? And I promised to never be caught in that trap?"

"Honey you didn't." You let out another sob. "It's ok. It's ok. Who?"

"Dra-Draco. And-and he asked me out on a fake date and I-I accepted and I don't know what to do!" You wailed. She kept silent for a moment.

"Well, I've known you've been in love with that boy since day one and he's-even if he hasn't realized it yet-has been in love with you just as long. Now, I'll tell you what we are going to do."

"What-what?" She helped your face in her hands and looked you in the eyes seriously.

"We are going to get you all dolled up for this date, whether or not it's real. You are going to knock this boy's socks off."

"But-but our bet. I-I can't lose. I can't go to the Ball!"

"Sure you can. And I bet you anything, you'll be going as his date," she smiles and holds you. "When's this date with him?"

"Tomorrow at seven," you sniffled. She nodded.

"Then it looks like we have a date to start getting you ready for." She smiles at you and you smiled gratefully back.

Draco was pacing his dorm room twisting the ring on his finger. Why had he done that? He had asked you out on a fake date. If he was going to ask you out he wanted it to be real. He flipped on his bed with a groan. What had he gotten himself into? He had fallen for a girl who didn't believe in love. How lovely.

He had wanted to ask her to the Ball. Perhaps as more than just friends. But when he asked if she had a date, she said she wasn't going. This whole thing was exhausting. He did see what she meant. The love in her family did seem…Stressed. But that didn't mean all love was terrible. Right?

"Merlin," he mumbled and ran a hand through his hair. "What am I getting myself into?"

Maria zipped up the back of your orange and red dress. She had put together the best outfit for the occasion. She had given you black leggings under the dress and a pair of boots with a black infinity scarf and a heavy jean jacket. Then she did your hair up in a high ponytail and a black scrunchie around your Y/H/C hair. She had put oranges and yellows and reds as your eyeshadow and a darker lip stick on you. You looked great.

She smiled at her good work and helped you put your jacket on. Maria squealed behind you, obviously excitedly she wouldn't stop talking about how she had shipped the two of you since the day you met. It was slightly irritating, especially considering you didn't exactly know how to feel. Should you be happy? Sad? Angry? What were you supposed to be feeling?

You sighed and collapsed on your bed, ready to go to sleep right then. The makeup was heavy and you weren't used to having so much of your cleavage exposed, courtesy of Maria's dirty mind.

"Maria, I don't know, isn't this a but…Much? It's not even a real date!"

"Riiiight," she winked at you, making you huff and cross your arms. You felt like you were going to vomit. Maybe you could get away with not going because you were sick?

"Y/N?" Jess knocked on the door and smiled at you. "Wow, looking good. Anyhow, Draco said you were expecting him?" You frowned. Too late. You stood and brushed off your dress looking back at Maria who gave you a thumbs up. You attempted a weak smile and left your dorm room. Your stomach was a wreck, your head hurt from thinking and you were exhausted from lack of sleep.

You had spent all night trying to think of what to do. You didn't want to end up like your brother, or your family, or Juliet. Up until this point… Until Draco… you were perfectly content with being sure love was horrible. And you were still fine with that! But, what if it wasn't? What if it was great? What if it was all perfect and then it just went up in flames like you've watched every relationship around you end up. You opened the portal and stepped out.

Draco was standing there looking around the hallway awkwardly and bouncing in the balls of his feet. He looked at you as soon as you stepped out of the portal and his jaw dropped. You bit your lip and looked down.

"I-I can go get changed if I did it wrong? Maria helped and-"

"You look beautiful," he assured you, taking your hand in his. You swallowed trying to steal your heart.

No no no no! Stop being so sweet! I hate love I hate love I hate love!

"Tha-thanks," you stuttered out. He smiled and pulled you after him.

"Come on. I got everything planned!" He smiled childishly, making you laugh and run after him as he pulled you.

When Draco said he had everything planned, he wasn't joking. He had pulled you up to the Astronomy Tower where he had had a picnic setup and a bubble spell cast around the area so that the wind wouldn't affect the two of you. You gaped at the scene.

"Woah," you whispered, he laughed and pulled you down besides him. And the weird part of it? It wasn't awkward. It was perfectly normal in every way. It was just like talking with your friend, but the butterflies of him being so close were definitely a difference.

After that you two went around the grounds, him keeping you under his arm to protect you from the winds and the chill, which worked. But you really don't need it because you were all warm inside from him being so close.

Did he always smell this good? Peppermint and pine?

Odd combination that strangely worked for him.

Oh my God! Stop it! You can not fall in love! Or, rather fall farther in love.

And it didn't help that Draco was a perfect gentleman. He offered you his jacket when he noticed you were shivering on your own, but you just laughed him off saying that he would be cold.

"Not with you here keeping me company," was his response and put the jacket over your shoulders. You blushed and grabbed the jacket to hold it tighter.

The night went too fast and you often forgot that it was a fake date. It was just to prove to you that love wasn’t bad. That love was real. And you hated that he was right.

“So.” he said at the end of the night, his hands in his pockets as he swayed between his heels and toes.

“So.”

“Who wins?” You looked up at him confused. “Do you believe love is real?” You swallowed and looked down, sliding his jacket off your shoulders.

“Yeah. Maybe. You win,” You handed him his jacket back, which he hesitantly took back. You laughed and shook your head. “Looks like I have to hurry up and go dress shopping.” You smiled at him and pressed the combination to enter the Common room. The door opened and you stepped in, stopping before closing the door. “Thanks, Darco,” You smiled at him over your shoulder. “I’ll-I’ll see you tomorrow,” you entered and shut the door, his mouth still open from where he was trying to say something. Anything. But nothing ever came out. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go.

He slunk off to his dorm room with slumped shoulders and his jacket on his arm.

Your back hit the wall and tears formed in your eyes. You cried into your arms and shook off the person who put their hand on your arm.

“Y/N/N.” You hiccupped and fell into Maria’s arms. She held you, whispering how sorry she was.

“I was so stupid!” You sobbed. “I-I promised myself I wouldn't become like the rest of my family! I promised myself!”

“You can't help these things, Y/N/N. I’m so sorry.” You cried into her shoulder as she led you up to the dorm room so you two could have some privacy.

You told her how perfect everything was. How he had planned the perfect date and then how you had forgotten it was all completely fake. She just shushed you as you sobbed. Saying it would be alright. The worst part though? Now you had to go to the Yule Ball and see him there with some other girl on his arm.

Why did you have to go and fall in love?

Maria was doing your hair, putting it up in a semi-messy bun with strands falling down the sides of your face. Your Y/F/C dress was dazzling. It flowed out when you spun and was slung off to one side so that one of your shoulders was exposed. Your makeup was done to match your face and although you looked like a princess in your glittering dress, you didn't feel like one.

No one had asked you, but you had to honor your bet with Draco, like he would notice if you weren’t there or not. Maria put her hands on your shoulders, signaling that she was done. You stood and looked yourself over in the mirror, still frowning and feeling self conscience.

The dress hugged the top of your body, making your figure quite noticeable. At least it was higher up than the dress you had worn on your “Date” was. There were sparkles dusting the entire thing and you really did love the dress.

Maria squeezed your shoulder. You looked back at her.

“You’re always welcomed to hang out with me and Nolan,” she offered, but you just shook your head.

“He’s your boyfriend, Maria, I’m not third wheeling. Plus this is your guys’ night.” You smiled at her. She was gorgeous. Her dress was yellow and black with blue underneath it to represent her boyfriend’s house. It was brilliantly beautiful and you couldn't help but just stare in awe at her. She was one of the most beautiful girls in your year. She pulled off anything. She smiled sadly and held your hands.

“Well, if you need the company….”

“I’ll come find you,” you promised. She squeezed your hands again and left the room. You looked yourself over and ran your hands over the dress, something it out before making your way down to the Great Hall.

Awkward wasn’t the word for what you felt. No. You felt something far beyond awkward. You were sitting, alone, at one of the tables on the side, watching Pansy Parkinson throw herself at her date… Draco Malfoy. Your chest tightened. God, he looked perfect. He always did, you had recently noticed, but looking at him now from across the room, twirl her across the room with the stoic face… Your heart beat out of your chest.

“Excuse me?” You looked up to see a Durmstrang student bowing and holding his hand out to you. “Would you, uhm… Dance with me?” You smiled. He was one of the shyer ones you could tell. Not often you found one of them. You took his hand and stood.

“I’d love to.” He smiled and led you out onto the floor. He twirled you around and you laughed. The two of you talked and danced and laughed. He was quite nice. And the awkwardness fell away, but the throbbing of your chest did not.

Draco was “listening” to a story Blaise was telling for the thousandth time. He let his gaze travel the crowd, searching for you for the millionth time that evening. He hadn’t seen you yet and knew you wouldn't back out. He ended up taking Parkinson, which made him want to gag. He finally caught your figure and it took his breath away completely.

Your hair was done up in a fancy messy-ish bun with strands falling into your face. Your make up was simple and your dress… He couldn't stop staring at you. Then he noticed you were being led out onto the floor by someone. A Durmstrang student. He swallowed and followed the two of you out with his eyes.

Your dress flowed around you as you danced with him. Your laugh rang through the crowd as you laughed with him. Your smile was bright as you smiled at him. That wasn't supposed to be a Durmstrang student. That was supposed to be him. Draco Malfoy. It was supposed to be him making you laugh and twirl like that. It should’ve been him making you smile that brightly. He swallowed and left Pansy’s side, making a beeline for you. He tapped the student on the shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” The Durmstrang student opened his mouth to probably say yes he did mind, but just ended up shaking his head. He squeezed your hand, whispered something in your ear, and kissed your cheek, making your face flush before leaving the two of you alone.

Draco held out his hand and raised an eyebrow.

“May I have this dance?” You rolled your eyes and took his hand, hating the way you felt electric pulses shoot up your arm.

“You already scared off my only dance partner,” you joked as he led you to the dance floor.

“I’m sorry. Figured I had a right to at least one dance with my best friend.” You chuckled as he twirled you around the floor.

“What about your.. Date?” You glanced at Pansy who was glaring daggers at you. Draco rolled his eyes.

“No one else to take,” he mumbled. You frowned.

“Could have taken me,” You pouted and looked away from him. He seemed shocked by your statement, and honestly you were surprised you said it aloud. “I mean, you are the reason I had to be here in the first place. Thanks for making me miserable by the way.” He scoffed.

“Please, you were having a nice time cuddling up to that Durmstag.”

“Watching me now?”

“Hard to miss.”

“And what's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, but it seems you now believe in the concept in love and are simply… looking for it.” Your jaw clenched and you ripped your hands from his.

“I never was looking for it!” You hissed and stormed out. Draco stood still for a moment before rushing after you.

“Wait! Y/N!” He chased you out of the Great Hall.

“Leave me alone, Draco!” you called over your shoulder.

“Y/N! Just, wait!”

“Go back to your date! I’m sure she’s waiting for-” Draco grabbed your hand and turned you so you fell into him. “You.” You two stared at each other for a second before he releases his grip. You rub your wrist and look away from him.

“What was that about?” He asked after a moment, you didn’t answer. “Y/N.”

“Nothing, Draco. Don’t worry about it,” you muttered.

“Don't worry about it? Of course I’m going to worry about it! You're my best friend, Y/N. How can I not worry about it?”

“Because it's your fault!” You shouted, looking at his eyes, your own watering. You couldn’t do this. You turned away from him and started to walk down the hall again.

“What do you mean ‘my fault’? What's my fault?” You froze and kept your back to him as you answered.

“I was fine, living my life not believing in love. Without believing that it was real and I couldn't be touched by it. That I wouldn’t end up like my family… like my brother,” your voice broke and you turned to him. A single tear escaped your eyes. “But then you had to make me see that I had fallen in love without realizing it. You had to wake me up from my dream. You had to go and make me love you!” You were full on sobbing at this point. Full on screaming. Your chest was heaving and he just stared at you with an open mouth. You wiped the tears from your face and sniffled. “And now,” you added softly. “And now I’m just like the rest of my family.” You buried your face in your hands and started laughing and sobbing all at once. “God! I’m just like my family!” you shook your head. “Might as well just jump off the Astronomy tower now! How about old fashioned-and-and poison myself!” You laughed, tears flowed down your face. “How-How about a dagger then?”

Draco just watched you have your break down. Sobbing and laughing and talking about suicide. He couldn’t move. And when he did, he had no control of his body. He did what he wanted to do from the moment he had met you.

He walked up to you, put his hands on your face and kissed you. You immediately kissed back, not knowing what you were doing in the slightest.

The kiss wasn’t soft. Not in the slightest. It was hard and desperate. You fisted his dress robes and pulled him in tighter against you, trying to get as close as you could to him. When you finally broke for air, you were both gasping for breath. He rested his forehead on yours, still holding your face.

“Never say that again. Any of that.” He rasped, his voice horse from the kiss. Hoarse was better than no voice at all, which is what you were left with. “I can’t lose you. Not now, not ever. I don’t care if you were joking or serious. Please don't scare me like that.” you pulled away and looked up at him. He looked down at you, his own eyes slightly watery. You opened your mouth to talk but you couldn’t get any words out, so you just closed your mouth and nodded. He sighed and kissed your head.

After a moment you got your voice back.

“So does this mean that you like me back?” You asked. He chuckled and looked down at you, kissing you again, softer this time.

“Yes. This means I like you back,” he smiled and you smiled up at him, eyes still glassy.

Bonus:

“And they lived Happily Ever After,” your daughter read and shut the book. You walked in and leaned on the doorway a smile on your face.

“What were you reading, Sweetie?” She turned the book over and squinted at the cover, sounding out the letters.

“Cinderella?” You nodded.

“A muggle story?”

“I found it in one of the trunks.” You came in and sat down on her bed next to her.

“And what did you think of it?”

“I don't understand it.” Your son walked in the room, a year older than your four year old, and crawled on your lap.

“What don’t you understand?” You asked.

“Well, how can they get married if they just met? How can you truly love someone you don’t even know?” Your son looked up at you for an answer as well and you smiled at the two. You hummed for a moment and leaned back in the bed and stared at the ceiling.

“Well, you can’t.” You answered. “You have to know the person.”

“How do you know if you're in love?” Your son asked. You looked at the boy who had inherited your looks while your daughter had inherited your husband's. You smile at the two and sat up on your elbows.

“Well, you just do. It's odd to explain, really. There's no logic behind love.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” Draco said, walking into the room and settling down on the bed as well, picking your daughter up and settling her on his lap.

“Ha ha.” You laughed sarcastically. “Would you like to explain?”

“Yeah, Dad. How did you and mom know you were in love?” Your son asked, the hopeless romantic he was at age five.

“And what did you mean coming from her?” You daughter added, always the intuitive one. Draco thought about it for a moment and the three of you waited.

“Well, your mother didn’t believe in love, actually.” You smirked and laid back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Really?” they asked.

“Yep. She had to make it logical. Thought it was all up here,” he poked your daughter on her head, making her giggle.

“Did you really mum?” Your son asked, plopping himself down on your chest so you were staring at his face. You smiled.

“Yes. I didn’t grow up in the best household like you two. You have a fabulous mother.” Draco raised his eyebrows.

“And me?” You glanced at him and smirked.

“You’re alright.” He laughed.

“Thanks, Darling. I really appreciate that.”

“But, how did you two fall in love?” Your daughter asked again, getting slightly irritated.

“Well,” Draco began again. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on her that I wanted to get to know her. And as I did, I grew to love her.” He smiled at you and grabbed your hand.

“That was so cheesy,” You grinned.

“Never bothered you before.” You rolled your eyes.

“What about you, mum?” Your son asked you with wide eyes. The one thing he had inherited from your husband.

“It sort of hit me all at once. I was so against it for so long, I never realized that I had fallen in love until he hugged me in the library at school.”

“That was where you realized it?” He asked. He hadn’t realized that was the moment you had fallen for him. You nodded. And he paused. “You're telling me that you let me believe you didn't believe in love that entire time?”

“It was only a few weeks.”

“And I could have taken you to the ball.”

“Are we still on that?” You sighed.

“We never left it,” you laughed.

Your children looked at each other in confusion.

“So…” your daughter began. “You slowly fell in love and you hadn't realized you fell in love? I don’t get it.” You smiled at the girl with platinum blond hair.

“One day you will.”

“Will I get it one day too?” He asked, sitting up. You put a hand on his cheek and smiled.

“One day.” You nodded. “Why don't you two go get ready for dinner,” you urged. They scrambled off your laps and ran to the dining room. You smiled and sat up.

Draco took you in his arms and kissed your forehead. You hummed happily.

“So the library, really?” You laughed. And looked up at him from his lap.

“Not going to let this go, are you?”

“What about that date? I was sure that was where I got you.” You shook your head.

“No, that made me cry for about three hours,” his jaw dropped, making you laugh.

“That was the perfect first date. How did that make you cry?”

“I was struggling, ok? And the fact that it was fake…” You drifted off, too sad to continue. He kissed you, bringing you back to the present.

“It was real to me,” he murmured. You smiled and leaned up, connecting your lips again. The butterflies in your stomach still fluttering like it was the first time.

“I’m glad to hear that, because it was pretty real to me too.” He smiled down at you and you smiled up at him, feeling as if you two were back at Hogwarts and were just teenagers wandering the hallways arm in arm.

Hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!!!

#draco malfoy #draco fluff #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #huffelpuff #hq angst #fluff and angst

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maybedefinitely404 · 3 years

Text

Day 29: Prinxiety/Loceit (pt 4)

Aaaand, part 4, the finale!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 29: You have a telepathic link with your soulmate until the two of you meet.

Content warnings: discussion of conversion therapy/after effects, PTSD, food mentions, anxiety/panic attacks, internalized homophobia, mentions of the foster system/abuse (mental, emotional, neglect, past eating disorder), minor self harm/blood, mentions of dissociating.

Word count: 5.1k

Despite Roman’s claims that being around other people would only distract him, and he didn’t want to have to walk to the library every time he had homework, Patton’s constant pleading eventually broke him down. Now, much to his roommate’s delight, they spent every night in the middle of the study floor in the library, and Roman found that he actually looked forward to it. Sometimes someone he knew would walk by, and give him a valid reason to take a short break, and having other people around somehow motivated him to work harder. He was starting to understand the appeal of the place.

Now, Patton and him were spending their afternoon there between classes, both working on their own projects and sharing a bag of popcorn twists. It was the only oil soaked snack that didn’t leave much residue on their fingers. Roman was deep in thought, struggling to remember an especially flowery Shakespeare monologue for a mock audition next week, when Patton kicked his leg under the table.

“What, Pat?” He took another moment to finish the sentence before he tore his eyes away from the book, surprised at his roommate’s barely contained excitement.

“You’ve been humming for half an hour!”

He hadn’t even noticed. He tended to do it a lot without realizing; humming along to his soulmate’s music. Ever since he’d come back almost a year ago, an occurrence he’d never had explained but held onto with fondness, Roman’s heart jumped every time his music played. It was just like old times, their old system immediately reinstated, and more than once he’d found himself singing along to the melodies in his head. Patton knew this, and could probably tell by the genre whether Roman was listening to his soulmate’s songs, or just had his own earworm.

“No, no, no, I like your humming! That’s not the point!”

“Then what’s the-”

“The guy behind you has his earbuds loud enough to hear!”

Roman strained his ears, and yes, he could barely hear the music coming from behind him. He definitely hadn’t noticed before, too deep in thought to notice something so trivial. But Patton was always on high alert, never able to keep his mind on one thing at a time.

“Okay, but what does that ha-”

“You’ve been humming the same songs as he’s been listening to for half an hour, Ro! I think he’s your soulmate!”

Roman’s eyes widened and he spun around, effectively dropping his book onto the ground. Yeah, if he concentrated, he could tell that the song in his head was the same as the one just audible through the other’s earbuds.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!”

That’s all the convincing Roman needed. He jumped to his feet and rounded the other table so he was face to face with the stranger and knocked on the table a couple times. When he made eye contact, he thought he saw fear in the other’s face, but that couldn’t be right. Roman was not intimidating. The man at the table reached up to pop out one of his earbuds.

“Hello lovely, I have a question for you,” Roman purred, dropping onto his elbows on the table.

“I- I don’t-”

Apparently that counted as a meeting, because in that moment, the music in Roman’s head faded into nothingness. And he could tell it wasn’t just the music being paused. He was left with a neutral emptiness he hadn’t felt in a long time, a silence that was rare, and an innate knowledge that it had happened: their link was no longer necessary and had dissipated. Roman grinned wide, barely concealing a squeal.

“You’re my soulmate!”

He didn’t know what reaction he was expecting, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected the man at the table to get up and sprint out of the building at full speed.

“Stay here, Ro,” Patton was suddenly at his side, laying a hand on his bicep, “I’ll go after him. I don’t know what just happened but I don’t want it to happen again.”

Patton scooped up the other man’s things from the table and jogged out the library door.

-----

Virgil didn’t know where he was going; he hadn’t planned on running out of the library. Dammit, he hadn’t planned to run into his soulmate. And he knew that was his soulmate, and not just some weird coincidence. Because the moment they’d locked eyes, it was as if something in his mind had snapped, like a rubber band that had always been there but the pressure was so constant he didn’t notice it there until it was gone. Their bond had snapped; it was no longer necessary, because he’d met his soulmate.

He recognized the guy, just barely. They were in the same first year math class, a course often taken by upperclassmen (probably like his soulmate) because they’d put off getting a math credit until their final years. Logan had warned Virgil of that when he was choosing his first year courses, and so he was safely getting it out of the way so he could focus on his major in the coming years.

His breathing was choppy and strained as he tried to calm down his panic attack, dropping onto the ground under a large tree. He couldn’t keep running lest he collapse and draw more attention to himself, and that was far worse than anything he could imagine. Fighting the urge to scratch at his skin, he buried his head in his hoodie clad arms, fumbling with one hand to free his phone from his pocket.

It’s actually a guy, it’s a guy, he’s gay, wrong wrong wrong-

No, not wrong. It’s not wrong.

Yes it is, it’s going to hurt, you’re going to hurt, wrong wrONG WRONG!

His hands were shaking far too hard to text but he tried anyways, begging Janus to come pick him up early. Logan wouldn’t be done work for another couple hours, and usually Virgil would be fine just doing homework until his dad was ready to drive them home, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle being on campus much longer.

“Hey, kiddo?”

Virgil’s head jerked up just as he clicked send, fighting every urge in his body to bolt again. It wasn’t the guy… his soulmate… but someone else he hadn’t met before, panting.

“Heya, my name’s Patton! You ran out without your stuff, so I brought it!”

Oh, he was holding his backpack, and his folder under one arm. Virgil was just trying to encourage his legs to move, to stand so he could take his things, when the stranger dropped into the grass in front of him. He flinched.

“Here ya go,” He pushed it towards him like a child trying to coax out a scared cat, “I’m so sorry me and Ro scared you. He just gets over excited sometimes. I promise he’s actually very gentle.”

Virgil stared, pulling in a halting breath.

“The guy who ran up to you, that’s Roman. I’m his roommate, by the way. I’m Patton. Did I introduce myself? Doesn’t matter. I’m a third year psychology major. Roman’s in third year too, music and theatre major.”

He should probably introduce himself too, but his hands were frozen, clamped around his phone, and he found his voice wasn’t cooperating. That didn’t deter the other dude, though.

“Here, I wrote out both of our numbers. Roman feels super bad for scaring you, so you can take your time, if you want.” He delicately placed a ripped piece of notebook paper on the backpack between them, “His is the first one. But I put mine in there too, so you can text me if you want to talk. The more friends, the better.”

Virgil’s phone buzzed, alerting him of Janus’ response.

“I’ll let you be, okay? Remember to text!” With an exuberant wave, he dashed back to the library. Virgil read Janus’ panicked message, asking what had happened, in a bit of a daze. His dad agreed to come get him, so he stuffed the paper into his pocket and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

-----

Janus had asked him not to go into his room when he was so worked up, instead giving him free reign of the living room while the older restarted the dinner he’d abandoned in favor of picking his son up. He’d turned on the TV for Virgil, changing the channel to a nature documentary, given Virgil his favorite weighted blanket, and left him with strict orders to call him if he started spiraling or needed a hug.

The distraction had worked for a while, the soothing voice of the narrator almost lulling him to sleep, until his racing brain had come to the conclusion that this was the worst thing to ever happen in the history of ever and that he was going to die alone. He’d been a little hopeful that his soulmate would be a girl, to somewhat appease his trauma, but life was never that easy. A part of him had also been a little miffed about that hope, because as much as he liked to pretend, he had a preference for boys. A big preference. And his soulmate was cute.

“Everything okay, Virgil?” Janus called through the pass through window into the kitchen, taking his eyes off his food preparation to watch his son’s pacing.

“Yup!” He lied, picking and scratching at the skin of his hands out of his dad’s view. The pain settled him a little, giving him something he could control, but he knew he’d get a figurative slap on the wrist for it later. A concerned slap, not an angry one. Maybe more of ‘a cuddle on the couch and wrap the little patches of broken skin and an update with his counsellor’. So not really a slap. At all. As it usually went.

Everything was wrong. What kind of shit first impression had he given his soulmate? Getting up and running away like an actual child? And that was only part of it. He was damaged goods, a broken person, who needed more help and reassurance than any other person. How could he explain to his soulmate that he was the cause of his problems without making him feel guilty? That wasn’t the life the man had signed up for, wasn’t the soulmate burden he’d wanted. He would want someone easy, someone who wouldn’t have panic attacks when they got shocked by a door knob, who didn’t stop eating when they were scared, who pressed pause on life when he woke up in a dissociating headspace. He couldn’t say that to him. He’d lost everything, that vague musical connection to an invisible soulmate, that had given him a subtle hope. It had been a quiet illusion, a promise that he’d be fine if it were never fulfilled. Knowing there was someone out there, providing him music, had been enough. But now…

“Virgil, hold these for me.”

When had Logan gotten home? He put his hands out obediently, clenching the fingers over the ice cubes placed in each palm. The sensation startled him and sent a shiver up his spine.

“Four, seven, eight. Ready?”

He followed the breathing pattern eagerly, feeling the curls of anxiety in his stomach slowly settle into butterflies. When he was breathing normally, an overwhelming sense of dizziness almost knocked him over. Logan took his arm and led him to the couch.

The next moment, Janus was kneeling in front of him, rubbing disinfectant into his few bloody scratches, the melting water dripping through his fingers and onto the carpet.

“I should have noticed,” he murmured as he stuck a couple bandaids onto each hand, refusing to meet Virgil’s eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself, Janus. I don’t think it was happening for too long,” Logan assured, running a hand down Virgil’s spine. “Did this have to do with the reason you left school early today?”

Virgil nodded.

“Are you nonverbal?”

“No,” he choked, clearing his throat, “Just dry throat.”

“I got it,” Janus leapt to his feet and hurried to the kitchen.

With a heavy sigh, Virgil leaned into Logan’s side, the hand on his back traveling to wrap around his shoulder comfortingly. The last drops of the ice cube hit the carpet, and he dried his hands off on his jeans. “I met my soulmate today.”

“I see,” Logan said. For the umpteenth time, Virgil was beyond grateful that Logan was an expert at masking reactions. It made difficult conversations easier.

“It’s a guy.”

“How did that go?”

“I ran out of the library and had a panic attack. His roommate brought me my stuff and gave me their numbers. I made an idiot out of myself.”

Logan was quiet, giving Virgil a little squeeze. A water glass was pressed into his hands and Virgil downed the whole thing, passing it back to Janus, who placed it on the coffee table.

“I think… I think I’m magnifying. Maybe.” He described his thoughts that led to his spiral as quickly as possible, feeling slightly pleased when Logan agreed with his hypothesis.

“You are definitely magnifying. Good job for recognizing that, Virgil. You don’t even know him, much less what he thought of your interaction.”

“What’s our next step?” Janus spoke up, resting a hand on Virgil’s knee and rubbing it with his thumb.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Can you sleep on it, and message him tomorrow?”

Virgil thought about for a second before shaking his head even harder, “No. I have class with him tomorrow, and we’re getting a study guide for a test. I can not miss it. But what if he comes up to me, or wants to talk, and I embarrass myself again, and-”

His dads both hushed him at the same time and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes against Logan’s side. “What do I do?”

“You could message him tonight,” Janus drawled.

“Are you crazy?” He shrieked, “No! What would I even say? ‘Hey, you freaked me out today, sorry for running like a lunatic’?!”

“Why not explain the cause for your hasty escape?” Logan piped in.

“That’s way too much to load onto him as a first conversation.”

“Not all the gory details, just a vague explanation. That’s how I started talking to Logan,” Janus stated, adjusting his position on the floor. “If he’s your soulmate, Virge, he’ll be okay to deal with this. It’ll come out eventually, and if something else happens, it will be nice for him to have some context.”

Virgil groaned. “I hate when you make sense.”

“We can help you construct an adequate message.” Logan squeezed him again, meeting Janus’ eyes with a small smile.

“Fine.” Virgil snarled, pulling out his phone and the two numbers, typing the first one into his ‘new contact’ list. “Okay, what do I say?”

-----

V: Hey, I’m Virgil. We met earlier today. In a manner of speaking.

R: OMG, hi! I’m Roman. I am SO sorry for startling you!

V: It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.

R: I still feel bad DX

“He feels bad, what do I do?!”

“I would suggest explaining the reason you ran off to ease his concerns.”

“Me too. But ask first, and don’t give more details than you’re comfortable with.”

V: Can I be brutally honest for just a second?

R: Should I be nervous? Haha go ahead!

V: I was forced into conversion therapy about a year back, and I still carry a lot of the trauma with me. That’s why I ran. It was just gut instinct.

“He’s not responding, oh god, he’s going to block me, why isn’t he responding?!”

“I assume this news would take a moment to process. Focus on your breathing, Virgil. Don’t magnify.”

“You also sent it, like, ten seconds ago.”

R: Holy shit, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.

“...That’s not what I expected.”

“This is a regular reaction from a human being with even a lick of common sense, Virgil.”

“Seconded.”

V: It’s okay, I have a really great support system now.

R: That’s good. I’ve never experienced anything like that, so I can only imagine how hard that was.

R: I don’t expect you to answer if you don’t want to or don’t know, so please don’t feel pressured, but do you know what kind of soulbond we have? Is it platonic?

“Shit, fuck, who do I answer that?”

“With the truth, I’d imagine. Do you have an answer to his question?”

“Remember what I told you, kid. Your own pace.”

“Logan, if I explain it, can you put it into words? Please?”

V: I’m not averse to a possible romantic relationship in the future, but at the moment I am still learning to become comfortable with myself, as I have negative connections to that part of my identity that can become problematic if not properly worked through at my own pace.

R: Give me a couple seconds to decode that

V: My dad wrote it, he’s a prof. I have both of them helping me not freak out right now.

R: You might want to date one day, but you need to take it slow because of your trauma.

V: Uhm… yeah. I could have said it like that.

R: Is talking to me upsetting you? We can always talk another time.

V: No, I’m okay.

R: Okay, then as far as I’m concerned, we move at your pace. That’s not an issue for me at all.

“I… oh. He’s… wow.”

“I agree with your sentiment.”

“I like this boy already.”

“DAD!”

R: Your dad’s a prof?

V: One of them is. He teaches at our school, Prof Sanders. 4th year chemistry?

R: Oh shit. I’m in his class.

V: Lol he thinks he knows you

R: You have two dads?

V: Yep

R: That’s so cool. I’d really love to meet them.

V: Wow, we met today and you’re already wanting to meet my parents?

R: Heeey, I want to meet them as a FRIEND.

V: My dad says after the semester’s over, you’re free to come by

One at a time, Virgil’s dads left him on the couch with an ear to ear grin, Janus to reheat dinner and Logan following him just so he could cling to his husband's waist as he moved around the kitchen. Neither of them wanted to disturb the little bubble their son was in.

-----

In the weeks following, they’d started to sit together in the one class they shared. Virgil had begun to join him and Patton on their nightly library study sessions, and after some more gentle convincing, had given in to sitting with their whole friend group during meals at the cafeteria. He was growing more comfortable with Roman, no doubt about that.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t fighting off an anxiety attack as he waited by the door to get picked up for their first outing alone.

He kept checking his phone and glancing out the peephole as Janus ran calming fingers through his hair. Virgil leaned into the touch instinctively, consciously slowing his breathing as Janus hummed. Logan was watching him from the entrance to the hall, leaning on the kitchen door frame. There wasn’t much he could do, but dammit if he wasn’t going to watch his son go off on the most anxiety inducing situation of all of their lives.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” Janus muttered, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “You’ve been friends with him for a while now, and he said there were no expectations. You’re in total control here.”

“What if I have a flashback, or a panic attack, or go nonverbal or something? He’s going to freak the fuck out and then all the work will be for noth-”

Logan spoke up. “You’re worried about things that may not even happen. And besides, haven’t you spoken to Roman about these things already?”

“A bit. Not in detail,” he whispered.

“I would suggest you do so, today if possible. It will make any possible situations that arise easier and less jarring to deal with.”

Virgil looked up at Janus, a pleading look in his eyes.

“He’s right, kid. The sooner you get it out of the way, the better.”

There was a knock at the door and Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. To his disdain, Janus backed away until he was next to Logan, gesturing at the door with a small smile. Virgil growled out a curse and opened the door, the scowl on his face melting into a sickeningly authentic smile.

“How’s my favorite emo? Hi Mr. Sanders, hey Prof.”

“Hello.”

“Salutations.”

“Your favorite emo?” Virgil snarked, pulling on his jacket. It wasn’t cold, not in the slightest, but he’d rather have the extra layer.

“You’re the only emo I know, so the choice is easy.”

“By process of elimination, doesn’t that also imply I’m your least favorite emo too?”

“Don’t start this again, Mr. Son-of-a-professor.”

“I’ll start it if I want to!”

The door closed behind them with one final wave to his parents, and the house was quiet. Janus leaned into Logan’s waiting arms, resting his head on the other’s collar bone.

“He’s all grown up.”

“That he is, my love.”

-----

Virgil smirked as Roman set out a large cliche picnic blanket, gesturing for him to sit. He did, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees as the other began to unload the basket.

“Okay, so for sandwiches, I have turkey, peanut butter and jelly, and ham. Patton made me bring apple slices because he’s a dad, but I’m sure we can convince the ducks to eat them.”

To prove his point, a group of ducks paddled out from under a weeping willow half submerged in the creek.

“I like apples,” Virgil defended, grabbing a slice from the open container and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. “How many people were you intending to feed with that much food?”

Roman pouted from behind a container of potato salad. “I had to show off my food skills, duh.”

“You made that?” Virgil asked with raised eyebrows as Roman set out a tin of mini quiches and a smaller one stacked with brownies and cookies.

“The cookies were Patton’s, but he insisted I take some. And I would have bought more, but…” He tipped the basket towards Virgil, revealing the bottom absolutely filled with different canned drinks and water bottles. “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink.”

Virgil actually did laugh as he stretched forward to snag a Doctor Pepper, taking another apple slice as he sat back.

“Do you have a sandwich preference?” Roman asked, choosing a Sprite for himself.

“Turkey looks good.” Virgil said before his choice paralysis could come into play, breathing a sigh of relief as Roman handed one of the sandwiches to him. The less stress he added to his own life, the better.

Roman had been right to bring an assortment of food, because dammit, he was a really good chef. Virgil was nervous to try a quiche, since he’d never had them before and the texture was odd to him, but Roman assured that if he didn’t like it, he’d eat it instead. Apparently he wasn’t eeked out by germs. After a nibble though, Virgil ate almost half the tin. Who knew cold eggs could be good? Roman took the ham sandwich, and they split the PB&J. The ducks were more than pleased to be given Roman’s half of the apple slices but Virgil refused to share, since fresh fruits were still a treat after a life of preserves. The younger wasn’t a huge fan of the potato salad, so Roman eagerly finished it, seemingly more excited to move onto the desserts but not wanting to leave any leftovers.

They were just finishing up the frankly absurd amount of cookies and brownies when Roman broke their casual bickering, chasing a chocolate chip bite with a long swig of Sprite and tossing another apple to their swarm of awaiting ducks.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself, Virge.”

“What do you want to know?” Virgil replied, leaning back on his hands.

“Anything, really. Childhood, siblings, favorite color, darkest fear.”

“Quite a spectrum, there.” There was a lot he could talk about, but he felt it might be better to get the bigger things out of the way. Janus was sort of the leading expert on this kind of thing, so his advice had probably been sound. He brushed his hands together to get the crumbs off them as he spoke, “Okay, so I grew up in the foster system.”

Roman tried to hide his wince. “Ouch. I’ve heard a lot of bad things.”

“It’s fucked,” Virgil drawled, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, “I spent most of my time in a group home, though, because I was called ‘difficult’. No one wanted to deal with my ass.”

“Why?”

“Mmm, ran away, didn’t listen, talked back, antagonized any biological kids.”

“So like, a normal teenager?” The last apple slice was sacrificed to the feathered hoard.

Virgil snorted, “Yeah, but I came with a receipt. And I kind of liked the group home more.”

“How many kids were in the home?”

“Never more than fifteen. It was a big home. But they circulated, and I was like a housecat. Never gone for more than a month.”

“Jeez,” Roman sighed, taking a sip of his soda.

“My foster homes weren’t better.”

“Oh?” It was a subtle encouragement to keep talking, but now it was getting into territory that Virgil liked to avoid.

“One of my foster houses was really neglectful, forgot to give us food, didn’t let us do laundry, that kind of stuff. Gave me a wicked ED. I was twelve.”

Roman grimaced.

“My next one was more emotionally and mentally manipulative. I was kind of made into a babysitter for their younger bio kids. I had to get them ready for school, make them dinner, just basically be a parent. After I ran away from them, they started having trouble placing me. I was older, had a shitty record, kind of a left over. I mean, I deserved it. I was a dick.”

“You were a kid, Virgil.”

“A kid who chose to make his own life harder.” He shrugged, “That’s why I was placed into… that home. They were a last resort place for other ‘trouble kids’.”

Virgil took a deep breath and, with Janus’ words in his mind, began to explain his attempted conversion; the slip of tongue that led to the placement, the verbal abuse, food deprivation, electroshock therapy, the snuck antipsychotics, forced isolation, ending with the day the wife had called the police behind her husband’s back out of guilt and he was rescued.

Roman was quiet for a long minute after he finished talking, staring entranced at the can in his hands. The ducks had dispersed during Virgil’s story, upset at the lack of food.

“I…”

Virgil waited for him to get up and leave, to say with false apologies that he didn’t think they would work out, that the connection was wrong. Because who would want to deal with him, his stupid trauma? But the man next to him didn’t move except to breathe, and Virgil took that as an invitation to continue, his tone quieter.

“I was super out of it for a while. Honestly, I don’t remember the rescue, or like a solid month after that, except for snippets here and there. The drugs were fucky. And then my social worker, god bless her heart, found Janus and Logan. Janus was in CT too for a while when he was younger, so they took me in. Took a long time, but I opened up to them, but by then I was eighteen. They still insisted on adopting me, though, and there’s absolutely no convincing Logan once he’s made his mind up, so… they did.” He waved his hands around a little.

“Three months,” Roman blurted out of nowhere, making Virgil flinch.

“What?”

“Were you in ther-... CT for three months?”

“Two and a bit, why?” The moment it was out of his mouth, he realized the implications, and his heart froze.

“You were gone for three months. I thought you died, or… I don’t even know.” Roman looked like he was about to cry, watching Virgil imploringly. Him going MIA must have affected his soulmate more than he’d thought.

“Two months of CT, and then another one before I got a new phone. I’m…” All the guilt he’d felt at the time came rushing back, the reminder of his soulmate’s music dwindling to almost nothing and him being helpless, “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry. That must have been…”

“No, Virgil, you don’t get to apologize. That was not your fault.” He reached out a hand as if to grab Virgil’s and immediately pulled back, wringing his fingers instead. “Sorry, my choice of comforting is physical. But I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Virgil choked out, running his hands through his hair.

“Can you look at me?”

He did, taking a shuddering breath. He was moments away from a panic attack and he was not looking forward to that disaster.

“You were being- quite literally- tortured for months. You were abused in ways that shouldn’t be legal, and you came out the other side stronger. Frankly, I’m amazed at your perseverance. You’re amazing.”

Simultaneously, Virgil felt a hot blush rise to his ears, and a sharp jolt run through his arms into his chest. He jerked violently, tipping over his own soda onto the grass.

“Shit, did I say something wrong?” Roman gasped, reaching over to pluck up the can before it could spill more. It was already half empty, thank goodness.

“No, I just… do that. Sometimes. From… CT. Kind of like ghost shocks, I guess.” Why couldn’t the ground just open up and swallow him whole, he wondered. He hadn’t done that jerk thing in front of anyone in so long. The last time had been in front of his now-parents, and they’d quickly grown used to it. He’d grown used to their own contact very soon and his twitches had stopped after he was accustomed to it, but it had never been directed towards him, and he had a feeling he’d need time to stop his impulse reactions.

“And me calling you amazing…”

“Triggered them. It’s an exposure thing though, so I’ll just need to get used to it. Don’t blame yourself.” He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until bright white flashes of light burst into his vision. Suddenly, he was exhausted.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Roman asked, already packing up their picnic basket. Virgil nodded, his social meter drained, and all ability to be a civil person was quickly deteriorating. His therapist said that would also begin to heal after a while.

Roman was an absolute angel though, letting the silence linger so Virgil could cradle his slowly growing headache, even opening the door of his car like a perfect gentleman. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Virgil rested his head against the seat and let a tiny smile tug at his lips. It would be a long process to retrain his brain (in theory, he was okay with being in a relationship with a man, but actually doing it? Infinitely harder), but for once, he was actually looking forward to the process.

Would you guys like a collection of one shots surrounding Virgil’s gradual warming up to his new family, a decent mix of angst and fluff? I have some ideas.

Thanks for reading! Now, a taglist.

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