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lauraneedstochill · 1 year

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Can't help falling in love

summary: 5 times Aemond was in love with you + 1 time he finally confessed his feelings

warnings: friends to lovers (at the age of 9, 10, 15, 17, 19), a pinch of angst (Aemond healing after losing his eye), but overall so fluffy and sweet you may want to skip dessert

words: ~ 5500 (I got reeeally carried away with that love confession)

Aemond is weeks away from his tenth birthday and he feels as miserable as ever. That feeling is an iron weight upon his heart, his mood irritated and face features grim more often than not. He is still without a dragon — and it’s the only thing he can think of, day and night, steadfast and stubborn in his obsession that most of his family finds to be blown out of proportion. It might have stang him less if only it wasn’t for the constant teasing and pitiful jokes that added to his distress and the never-ending heartache. He learns to keep a straight face and act as if he doesn’t really care, but deep down he does, way more than he’ll ever admit.

His training sessions are a way to channel his anger, and he lashes out at a straw man, again and again, clinging to the thought that, at least in these moments, he is not entirely powerless. He keeps his focus on the target, attentive to Ser Criston’s advice — “Soften your knees”, “Keep your feet light, your hands heavy”, and for a couple of hours he forgets about his misery.

It’s when the training comes to an end, the dreaded realization sinks in again, and Aemond is lost in his thoughts, mindlessly twirling the wooden sword in one hand, his gaze wandering around the yard.

And then his eyes fall on a bright green spot — and all of a sudden, he sees you. A girl of his age, the hem of your green dress a bit dusty, boots covered in dirt, a few strands of hair fallen loose, a coy smile on your face. You meet his gaze and wave at him excitedly.

Aemond looks dumbfounded. A girl in the training yard. Waving at him. He blinks once, twice — and in the next moment, you're standing merely a few steps away, glancing curiously at his sword.

"It looks so hefty! Is it heavy? What is it made of?" a string of questions, your voice sweet and joyful.

There’s a brief pause and maybe you mistake his stiffness for arrogance as you are quick to add:

“Oh, my manners!” gasping but showing no actual regret. “Forgive me,” you curtsy, your smile growing even wider. A timid smile appears on his face in return and he finally comes to his senses.

“It’s made out of red oak. It’s not very heavy, you get used to it,” Aemond raises the sword, letting you take a closer look. Within another blink of an eye he finds himself talking to you, your questions endless and maybe a bit naive but he genuinely enjoys it.

That’s until you both hear a loud cry:

“Lady Y/N!” your nanny comes running in, out of breath and scowling. “I told you not to wander around...,” she chokes on her words at the sight of the young prince. She curtsies, too, but it isn’t nearly as cute as when you do it.

She sprints decisively in your direction:

“It wasn’t very polite of you to interrupt the prince’s training, you little menace!”

And then Aemond, to his own surprise, moves to stand in her way.

”Y/N didn’t interrupt a thing,“ he disagrees, lips thinned into a tight line.

The nanny stops and looks at Aemond dubiously, switching her gaze from him to you.

Ser Criston is the one to resolve the conflict — he comes from behind, with a polite smile plastered on his face.

”Young lady can watch from the balcony. The guests are very much welcomed,“ he calls for the maid to escort you and your nanny up there. While you’re away, he looks at Aemond with a grin:

”Already wooing the ladies, my prince? Let’s hope you are as good with your sword as she thinks you are.“

He does make Aemond work for it but the prince fights back, winning one bout after the other. He keeps glancing at you and you wave at him every single time.

Aemond is too young to know what love is, too shy and guarded to even entertain the thought of it. But when you look at him, with your childish grin and your eyes bright with mirth, he doesn't feel lonely anymore.

It's been two weeks since Aemond lost his eye and he hasn't left the bed once. The pain is still blinding, burning and constantly making his only eye water. But what hurts even more is the humiliating disability. The triumph of claiming Vhagar died down, and now the prince was faced with the harsh reality he needed to adjust to and the process wasn't an easy one. The fever has only recently gone down, leaving his body weak and freezing from the lack of movement, but he couldn't bare the thought of stepping out of the room.

His mother wouldn't leave his side and even Aegon often came to visit, clearly blaming himself for not being there for his little brother. Yet their presence barely brought Aemond any comfort and most of the time he would pretend to be asleep to avoid any conversations. He knew they only meant well and he was being cruel but he couldn't help it as his pride was shattered and he gave in to sadness.

That is until one night he wakes up to a weird sound. He's only half-awake when he hears a vigorous tapping that clearly comes from the outside. Except it's not from the other side of the door — but rather outside his window.

He's startled by this guess and suspiciously walks closer. It takes him a few seconds to focus his gaze and discern a human's silhouette — and then another few to realize that it's you standing on the window sill. He feels like his heart will jump out of his chest as he rushes to open the window.

You climb through and clumsily drop to the floor. But before he can get worried, you are on your feet again, eyeing him with concern.

“Oh, Aemond,” your gaze and voice are both so soft, it makes his lower lip quiver. You carefully approach him and put your hand on his shoulder, gently sliding it on his back in a soothing motion and then cuddling him. He welcomes your company with a sigh of relief. You smell of oranges and you give the best hugs.

"They told me no one was allowed into your chambers," your hushed whisper burns his ear. "The silliest thing I've ever heard!" you pull away from him, still lightly panting, cheeks flushed and hair messy. "I knew I had to find a way to come see you."

You examine his face, frowning at the scar that's still healing.

"Does it hurt?"

He only nods, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he won't be able to hold back a sob. You move closer, resuming the gentle motion of rubbing his back.

Ever since that day in the training yard, you kept in touch, regularly sending each other letters, chatting about everything and nothing, sharing your little secrets and observations. You recently mentioned that your parents allowed you to come see him again, but with the tragic change of events, Aemond completely forgot about the preplanned visit.

"I will take his eye," you say out of the blue, caressing the unharmed side of his face, your voice laced with anger. Aemond thinks he might've heard it wrong.

"...Whose eye?"

"Luke’s! I shall take his eye, as payment for yours," you tell him with zero hesitation. For a girl of your age, you’re way too eager to plan such a thing, yet he somehow has no doubts that you can actually do it.

Aemond shakes his head:

"You shouldn't," his voice quiet but firm. "The King was very adamant about that, no payment is needed."

"Well, maybe he is too old to think straight," you retort. "You are his son and you lost an eye! Justice must prevail," you tilt your head at him, clearly thinking that you’re in the right.

And he knows that you are but he also knows no justice will be served. It’s the last straw for Aemond — he looks away in shame as tears, hot and angry, start falling down his cheek. You waste no time hugging him again, letting him cry on your shoulder, and the two of you stay like that for what feels like an hour.

And then, in the comfortable silence of your embrace, he hears you asking, very seriously:

"Are you sure I can't take his eye?"

At that moment, he can't stop himself from letting out a laugh — a weak one and barely audible, but still, he laughs, for the first time in two weeks, and you are the sole reason for it.

Your cheek is pressed to his, your fingers running through his hair, and Aemond realizes he can't lose you.

He begrudgingly persuades you that taking Luke's eye isn't worth the trouble.

By the age of fifteen Aemond becomes quite accustomed to the eyepatch and it gives him a boost of confidence. Losing an eye only made him train harder and his persistence pays off when he’s the one to win, time after time, no matter who his opponent is. His hair grows longer, now silky smooth and with no sign of his boyish curled ends, his face features sharpen. He learns to walk with his head high and hands clasped behind his back, mastering the intimidating look that makes most people want to stay away from the one-eyed prince.

His tricks could’ve never worked on you, though.

You come to visit him a few times a year, and he eagerly awaits your arrival. All the days in between, you keep talking through letters, them getting longer as you get closer. He keeps those letters locked in a hidden compartment of his table. And sometimes, for no specific reason — or maybe for the reason he can’t yet formulate — he is drawn to reach for them, which always ends with him rereading the letters for hours. Some of them he knows by heart and yet it never stops him from having the pleasure of seeing your handwritten stories and little jokes that were only meant for him.

Today is no exception and Aemond is so enthralled by reading, he almost misses the knock on the door. The sound brings him to reality but he is in no hurry to react. The knocking comes again, and the prince groans, annoyed at the maid's persistence. He carefully puts the letters back and goes to the door, armed with his cold gaze.

And then he opens it — and it's you standing in front of him.

Aemond barely has time to register what's going on when you launch yourself at him, your arms immediately enveloping him in a tight hug, your laugh ringing in the air. He hugs you back and, while you can't see it, he's grinning from ear to ear.

“I swear you’re getting taller every time we meet!” you look up at him, beaming, and he lets you in. “I soon will need a ladder just to hug you properly".

"I’ll be sure to let my body know of your disapproval," he sneers and you stick out your tongue.

"While you are at it, shall you also work on your friendly face? I overheard the maids being frightened to go into your chambers," you try giving him a scolding look but end up giggling at his reddened cheeks.

"I am friendly enough!"

“Yes, nobody glowers quite like you,” you snicker and flop right on the floor, the move always making him smile. Aemond tried persuading you to sit on any other surface that’s actually meant for sitting but you insisted that his fluffy rug works just as well, so he eventually gave up, deciding to join you. He never complained since.

Before he knows it, he’s immersed in the conversation while you enthusiastically share the recent news and everything that’s happened to you on the road. Only about half an hour in, he notes a small bag you're clasping in your hands.

“You come bearing gifts?”

“Oh, I almost forgot I had it,” you laugh, abashed. “I decided I should bring you something to replace this crumpled-looking thing".

It takes Aemond a minute to realize that you're talking about his eyepatch. But he has no time to protest as you silence him with a gesture of your hand:

“I took it upon myself to count for how long you’ve been wearing this one already,” your tone gets serious. “I must say, that number is disturbing.”

There's a moment of silence and then he clears his throat, his voice unsure:

“Very kind of you to think of that, I shall replace it later on.”

He reaches his hand to take the bag but you quickly cover it with yours, fingers brushing over his, and he freezes.

“Are you still not convinced that I can take a look at it?” you try to make eye contact but he averts your gaze.

“Aemond, I was with you and I think I’ve seen enough back then — none of it scared me.”

“It is not a sight for the faint of heart,'” the prince mumbles, his bravado faltering.

“Well, I don’t remember fainting the first time. You should have more faith in me,” you try to reason, holding his hand.

Aemond ponders for another minute — or maybe ten, he isn't sure, and you patiently wait, not wanting to press him any further. Then he finally makes a decision and, after taking a long, sad sigh, he removes the eyepatch and looks at you, the sight of him is the very definition of insecurity.

You stay silent for about five seconds before concluding:

“Oh, it healed so nicely!” with no hint of uncertainty in your voice. Your smile reassures him a little as you peer at the sapphire, looking very pleased.

"The gem compliments your eye very well," you give him your verdict, taking the new eyepatch out.

"We might have a different understanding of what a compliment is."

"This is me trying to say that I really like the way it looks," you chide him lightly. "And I consider myself to be quite understanding, thank you very much. Will you stop pouting and let me put it on?"

At this point he surrenders, giving you permission, and you move closer, giggling with excitement. You gently fix his hair, making sure it’s all combed back, and then lean to put the eyepatch on. You have a habit of biting your lower lip when you're too concentrated on something, and Aemond can't help but gaze at that part of your face while your teeth graze over the pillowy surface.

He’s never let anyone this close — and not just in the sense of physical proximity. The moment is very intimate, and the softness of your movements tugs at his heart. He is suddenly very aware of the very short distance separating you two, and he holds his breath. You are oblivious to his stare and soon lean back, satisfied with the result and glaring at him with something akin to fondness.

He wishes he could paint a picture of you right at this moment, so tender and caring and sitting by his side.

He also wishes he could kiss you — and that thought scares him to death. And yet, once it appears, it never goes away.

Aemond is seventeen and his life has been pure torture since you stopped visiting him. He hasn't seen you in over half a year (seven months and eleven days, not that anyone's counting). It's not your fault as your father has unexpectedly fallen ill and you couldn't leave his side. The prince exhausted the maester with questions, asking for advice to write back to you, worried sick that your separation would be stretched for way longer than he could handle.

Luckily, the Gods took pity on him, and he was glad to learn that your father got better, and you will come to the King's Landing soon. Your visit coincided with Aegon's birthday, but Aemond didn't care about the feast, his mind only occupied with the thought of seeing you. He was both nervous and excited to the point of not even hiding it, which led to Aegon teasing him relentlessly. Helaena, on the other hand, wholeheartedly supported Aemond's sympathy for you.

“She will be delighted to see you, too, I am sure of it,” his sister tells him the day before the event.

“But the reason for it might be of a different nature,” Aemond remarks, and Helaena gives him a compassionate look.

“You will never know her true feelings unless you ask,” she encourages. “The two of you are so close, I consider Y/N part of the family.”

Aemond knows that he’s of age and his mother hinted that, despite him showing no interest in courting, some ladies still found him attractive. He dismisses the idea but then finds himself thinking of it from time to time. When the realization forms in his head, it’s nerve-wracking but oh so compelling — he thinks he would’ve really wanted to marry you. He just doesn’t know how to tell you about it.

The day of your arrival comes, and Aemond wakes up at dawn in anticipation, determined to confess his feelings. He tries to come up with a speech, but it feels wrong and sounds weird, and he decides it will be better to improvise. He all but runs to the courtyard to be the first one to greet you. However, when you step out of the carriage, smoothing your dress, and your eyes meet, Aemond stops dead in his tracks and the world around him stands still.

His confidence might’ve blossomed — but not nearly as much as your beauty did. Somehow in those recent months, you’ve matured into a woman that takes his breath away.

It’s not a drastic change, it's all in the details: the contours of your face are more defined, the cheekbones prominent, your hair knotted up high in a perfect style and even your pace is much slower and gracious. You walk towards one another, both suddenly cautious. But when you are a couple of meters apart, a well-known smile appears on your face and you hold your arms out to him and he finally hugs you again, after all this time. Aemond relaxes, inhaling the familiar scent of fruits that you undoubtedly munched on your way here.

“You look exactly as I remembered you,” you say as you slip from his embrace.

“And you are a sight to behold,” he breathes out, taking you in, and your cheeks heat up at the compliment. You’ve never been shy with him before, so this is also new. He wonders what might’ve caused this change.

As the two of you walk around the castle, it feels a bit awkward at first, and you keep glancing at him with emotion he can’t read. But Aemond is too happy to see you to give it much thought, and within an hour you ease into the conversation, too. By the time the evening comes, the tension disappears, and you are laughing at his sarcastic remarks again, and he savors every second of it.

The feast in honor of Aegon is lush and crowded, but you stay by Aemond’s side, enjoying each other’s company, and he only has eye for you. When the music gets too loud, you sneak out and soon find yourselves in his chambers, just like in the good old days. Aemond is in the middle of telling you about Aegon’s recent foray to the Flea Bottom, when you say:

“It’s just the two of us,” your fingers sink into the fluffy rug. “You don’t have to wear it with me. You know it, right?”

He wears the eyepatch with everyone, only taking it off before going to sleep. Moreover, he actually cherishes it because it’s a gift from you. Aemond hesitates:

“I thought you quite liked it.”

“I only gave it to you because yours started to look like it was pulled off a dead man’s body!” you laugh.

Before he can think of an answer, you lean closer — your shoulder brushing his, your hand touching his face, the same gentle warmth he remembers so well, — and remove the eyepatch yourself. The sight doesn’t bother you in the slightest as you confess:

“I accept you the way you are, Aemond,” and then, a moment away from him opening his mouth and saying the thing that’s been on the tip of his tongue for the duration of the day, you add: “That’s what friends are for — and you are my best friend.”

And just like that, with this word alone, his plan goes out the window.

A friend. Aemond can’t even be upset at the reveal, because, honestly, being your friend feels like a blessing in itself and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. How could he be so selfish and foolish to even think about risking it all, risk losing you?

So he keeps his feelings to himself, locking them away deep in his heart, and doesn't argue with you.

Maybe he should have.

By the age of nineteen Aemond reaches the conclusion that he wants to take the risk. Otherwise, he thinks he might actually die as his heart can not hold all his feelings anymore. In two years' time, there isn’t a single thing about you that he hasn’t come to love, and keeping it a secret becomes harder with each day.

Aemond is ridden with doubts to the point where he can't hide it any longer and he decides to seek advice — and the prince can't think of a better person to talk to than his mother. Unbeknownst to him, Alicent was the first one to notice. Years ago, when you were kids, she quickly sensed the effect you had on her son, and it brought her joy as she watched the two of you get closer with time.

So when Aemond bursts into her room, anxiety radiating off of him as he starts jabbering away, his pacing erratic and voice trembling, it takes her about a minute to realize what's going on.

“My dear, I think you must talk to Y/N,” she approaches him, an understanding look on her face.

Aemond cuts his speech short, eyeing her with wonder:

“You don't seem surprised.”

“Your affection for her is as bright as a fire blazing,” Alicent chuckles. “I believe Y/N is the only one who doesn’t see it.”

“Should I tell her...?” he doesn’t dare say it out loud, not yet.

Alicent briefly takes his hands in hers, squeezing them.

“You should tell her the truth.”

Her encouragement gives him a dash of hope, lifting a weight off his chest. Aemond knows in an instant that the letter won’t cut it, and you must have the conversation face-to-face. Fortunately, your next visit is in a month, so his suffering won’t last for much longer.

Aemond almost reaches the door but then sharply turns to his mother again, his cheeks flushed:

“Will you give me your approval?” and this time, he looks straight at her as he wants to see her genuine reaction.

Alicent smiles, quick to reassure him:

“Yes, Aemond. Your betrothal would only make me happy.”

The prince feels elated, almost euphoric, as he finally goes to meet you and runs the remaining distance from his chambers to the yard. But when he sees you, the smile disappears from his face because he notices that something is wrong.

You look visibly upset, your eyes watering and fingers fumbling with the dress, even though you try to force a smile in return. The hug you give him is weak and you keep looking at your feet.

“What is the matter?” he’s never seen you this sad, but you brush him off.

“It’s just a headache, no need to worry.”

Yet that’s exactly what he does, offering to call for the maester, or to prepare you a warm bath, or bring you some tea...

“A cup of water would be nice, thank you,” he leaves you in the hallway to go and get it himself, the task only takes a couple of minutes. When he returns, you stand with your back to him, your shoulders are shaking — and he hears quiet, muffled sobs. If it wasn’t for the nearby table, he would’ve thrown the cup away, his focus on you alone. As he rushes to envelop you in a hug, you don’t fight it, instead nestling your face against his chest, not hiding your tears anymore.

Aemond gives you some time before asking again:

“This doesn’t look like just a headache. What is the cause of your anguish?” now he’s the one running his fingers up and down your back.

You let out a sound that’s a mix between a groan and a whine.

“My father says I am to be betrothed soon. He says I am of age already and... and he wants me to meet some of my cousins,” you sniffle. “I told him I have no wish to get married but he refuses to listen,” you bite your lip, not wanting to cry again.

Surely, that’s not how Aemond wanted to ask you. But he decides to take his chance.

“Mayhaps there is another way out that could make you feel better.”

“Please don’t tell me Vhagar will burn them down,” you jest but the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. Aemond thinks your idea isn’t that bad — but he has to try his first.

“If he insists you should marry but doesn’t have a particular candidate, maybe you can pick one yourself?”

“I’ve met all my cousins — and half of them are imbeciles, the others are too old to survive a wedding,” you scoff.

“Then pick someone you are not related to,” Aemond suggests.

“Do you have a particular candidate in mind?” when you ask with a tinge of annoyance, you don’t think he will answer. And then you look at him — and see him grinning before he says:

“Me”.

You glare at Aemond with eyes wide and mouth agape, the expression frozen on your face for a good minute.

“Are you laughing at me?” you manage to say.

“I wouldn’t dare,” his nerves are as tight as a wound-up string.

In the blink of a moment, your face lights up. You're looking at him indecisively, searching for words, agitated. But Aemond mistakes your confusion for rejection.

“At the very least you will marry someone you know,” he tries to reason — but it backfires, wiping the joyfulness off your face. Taken aback, you inquire:

“You pity me?”

He doesn’t grasp the poor choice of his words yet.

“You pity me and that’s why you want to marry me?” you give him a look of disbelief, your eyes glossy, and he can't get his head around what just happened.

“Oh, it was so silly of me to think that...,” you choke back a sob, putting your hand over your mouth.

Never in his life he thought he would be the reason for you looking so heartbroken. Aemond covers your hand with his palm — and you let him, as he tries to gather his courage.

“Y/N, I only meant to say that I —”

And then you recoil, snapping your hand back.

“Aemond, don’t,” you take a step back from him, then another one. “You have said enough. Please, let me be,” you turn away and leave the hall in a hurry before he can utter another word.

... 1.

He finds you at your usual spot, under the blossoming cherry tree. You’ve always said you liked the color of it, little white flowers reminding you of early spring, your favorite time of the year. You don’t know that Aemond insisted on planting that tree specifically for you. Just so he can sit nearby and, as you were basking in the sunlight with your eyes closed, he would get a chance to look at you with all his unconditional love and have those moments engraved in his memory.

Come to think of it, he had so many memories of you — and every single one of them was bliss, and he can recall them so easily like it was yesterday.

And so he does.

“When we first met, you wore a green dress,” his voice startles you, but you don’t turn to face him, sniffling with your arms folded. “It was the color of forest trees. Black lace around the hem of it, the matching hair ribbon that you kept losing,“ he keeps his distance, his hands shaking.

"Yes, I remember it pretty well," you sigh, avoiding his gaze, baffled by his sudden outburst.

"The second time was when you climbed through my window, almost gave me a heart attack," there’s a hint of a smile in his voice that you catch even without looking. "Blue dress, you tore a huge piece of it and couldn’t care less. You were the first person to make me laugh in two weeks even though it seemed impossible. But not with you."

He sees your eyebrows furrowing, hands sliding down to rest on your knees.

"Helaena’s name day came next, your dress was bright pink. Luke tried to make fun of it and you threw a cup full of water in his face. To this day, it’s one of my fondest memories."

You dare to look up at him, perplexed, your eyes wet from crying.

"Three months after was the light-blue dress, then the peach one and the brown one. Then the white one which didn’t survive the horse riding lesson, and Helaena gave you one of hers. Light green, too long for your liking, even though you pretended otherwise to please her," the corners of your lips tremble, your face softening.

"Then for a year you only wore violet, much to your nanny’s dismay as she thought it made you look ill. And I thought you were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, no matter what dress you were in," he can’t take his eye off you.

Your face expression melts into a stunned one.

"I didn’t realize it back then. Or maybe I didn’t know how to call it. I just knew that your visits only brought me happiness," he takes a step toward you, uncertain, but you don’t move from your spot.

"When you were fourteen, you picked the autumn colors — orange, dark yellow, deep red. Your started braiding your hair, tried to braid mine," you can’t hold back a smile. He was fussy when you first voiced the idea but he ended up loving the process so much, he would allow it just to feel your fingers flowing through his hair.

"I think you actually enjoyed it", you mumble, and Aemond smiles, too.

"I did. I enjoyed every minute that I got to spend with you."

You stand up then, feeling your pulse quickening.

"The day you brought me the eyepatch, you wore emerald green. I was terrified to show you the scar," he pauses, catching his breath. "You assuaged my fears with your kindness. But then I was terrified to learn that I wanted to kiss you".

You think you are dreaming. Is it possible that you fell asleep under the tree? You don’t want to get your hopes too high, but when he looks at you like this, your own fears start melting away.

“Then was the black dress, the grey one, another white one. The golden one you wore to meet Vhagar,” when he saw you that day, he almost forgot how to breathe. You showed no sigh of apprehension as you fearlessly approached the dragon. He was absolutely besotted.

“And then came the agony of not seeing you for over seven months,” he closes his eye for a second, overwhelmed. He almost misses it when you speak:

“Seven months and twenty-five days. Not that I was counting,” his eye snaps open, instantly on you again.

You gravitate toward each other without even noticing. Aemond’s heart skips a beat when you’re at arm's length, your eyes shining and lips slightly parted. Even in the state you're in, you look so beautiful, it's mesmerizing, and the words are stuck in his throat. You are the one to break the silence:

"Aemond, please don't give me false hope," your heartbeat is too loud, you don't hear your own voice. He does.

"I do not wish to marry you out of pity," Aemond takes the last step. "I want you to be my wife because I'm in love with you," he wipes away the remaining tears off your face, his fingers linger, making you shiver. "I've been in love with you for quite some time. For a few years, actually," his voice gets low. "For what feels like an eternity," Aemond murmurs.

"Why haven't you told me?" you pout, nervously toying with the collar of his shirt.

"I was afraid you didn't feel the same. I still am but maybe... Maybe I am wrong?" his gaze is fixed on you, one of his hands following the contour of your waist, your body warming at the touch.

"Tell me that I am wrong," he whispers, begging.

You look at his lips, the soft curve of them that you’ve dreamt of for so long.

Aemond always thought yours were the most kissable he’s ever seen.

You don’t know who closes the distance first — but his mouth is suddenly on yours and the sensation leaves you disarmed. Kissing him is like being swept with a wave of tenderness, and you’re floating in it, his lips so fervid and supple — truly perfect — your head is spinning. The kiss is not awkward nor modest as you hastily cling to each other, his hands gripping your waist, your chest pressed into his.

Aemond feels like he’s drowning, and he wants more of you — all of you, and then your fingers tug at his locks, eliciting a groan from him, and it is simply a miracle that his heart doesn’t explode. You move in impeccable sync, in the passionate harmony that erupts from years worth of mutual pining. His lungs burn but he resists the urge to break the kiss and stretches it out the best he can until you are breathless, too.

"Never knew that you were so fascinated by my wardrobe choices," you tease, and his hum turns into a chuckle.

“You know what my favorite memory is?” you ask, your forehead resting against his.

“When we were thirteen, and you were teaching me how to hold a sword. I tackled you to the ground and scraped my knee,” you both smile at your then enthusiasm. “And you set everything aside to spend the rest of the day with me even though it was hardly a wound. And I remember thinking,” you hook your finger under his chin, “that there’s nowhere else I would rather be than with you, with this favorite boy of mine.”

The air around you tense, and you are enchanted by each other.

“Did that help to prove you wrong?”

“I may need some convincing,” his breath fanning over your lips.

“You can take your time,” you laugh — and then the sound of it is muffled by his athirst mouth.

His favorite memory will be this.

And every other moment with you that's to come.

author's note: I'm sorry if this came out messy and rushed. I tried my best to write a shorter fic (this is short for me lmao) and idk how I feel about it. I much rather prefer them longer because I'm a sucker for stories about two people getting to know each other and falling in love BUT I get it that others don't want to read long ass fics (which kinda breaks my heart but I'm being so very brave about it) anyways, I hope this was bearable, thank you for reading!

💙 the longer version of this fic might have looked like this (yes, this is a shameless plug! because I adore this one to pieces!! bite me) 💞 my masterlist 🎵 the title is a quote from Elvis Presley's song (duh). there are quite a few covers of it but one of my favorites is by Twenty One Pilots. there's also a female version — by Ingrid Michaelson — and I think both of them fit the story really well. P.S. I'm also on AO3 (lol, who isn't), in case you prefer to read fics there.

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

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l3viat8an · 11 months

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I’m being self indulgent again~ when am I not?-

I want to walk up behind Lucifer while he’s doing work in the student council room, yk like he’s just sitting in his usual chair, going over papers and chatting with Diavolo about this ‘n that. The next event expenses and whatever really-

and then you walk up behind him and slowly start running your fingers through his hair. At first Lucifer stiffens and throws a glare over his shoulder before he sees it’s you.

Instantly his shoulders relax and he leans into your touch, leaning back in his chair and even letting his eyes drift closed as he lets out a long sigh. Diavolo makes some side comment about how rare it is to actually see Lucifer relax and Lucifer only hums in response leaning a little more, into your touch and pushing his head up and back causing your fingers to dig into his scalp a little and earning another pleased sound (A little like a purr cuz I love the idea of demons purring!!!!!!!!) from Lucifer.

Then just grabbing his hair and tugging~

Not too hard, just a good tug and getting to hear the almost pornographic moan that Lucifer let’s out. His face going bright red as he turns fully to glare at you while Diavolo just laughs his ass off in the background-

If you read this thinkin’ it was just sweet I apologize. I just wanna be a menace to the old man Lucifer~ 😇

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wylanslcve · 9 months

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Okay don't mind me I'm in the middle of a Crooked Kingdom reread and feel overwhelmingly inclined to rant about Jesper Fahey because this fandom just doesn't give him the treatment he deserves. I'm specifically going to incoherently ramble about the scene in Crooked Kingdom where he, Colm and Wylan are being shot at because I feel like that scene is representative of Jesper's arc - but, before we dive into that, let me contextualise a few things first. Jesper does things for the thrill of it: he thrives off chaos and spontaneity, hence why he "always felt better when people were shooting at him". It's because the sound of gunfire "called the scattered, irascible, permanently seeking part of his mind into focus like nothing else" - and it also provides a distraction from his pain and trauma, because whenever he'd think about it, "everything in him recoiled. Trying not to die was the best possible distraction". Whenever anything to do with his past or his debt is brought up, "his hands returned to his revolvers" because he found himself "longing for the cool, familiar feel of their pearl handles beneath his thumbs". It steadies him as much as it possibly can when he's not in a dangerous situation, momentarily calling his mind into focus, an attempt at distracting himself from his afflictions.

Based off similar instances, the scene in Crooked Kingdom where he, Wylan and Colm are being shot at should have brought him that same satisfaction that any other shooting would. He "should be buzzing from the excitement of the fight. The thrill was still there, fizzing through his blood, but beside it was a cold, unfamiliar sensation that felt like it was draining the joy from him." What makes this situation so different to the others is that he can't ignore his problems and trauma now: it's staring him right in the face. Colm is right there. The thrill of the fight doesn't feel the same because "all he could think was, Da could have been hurt. He could have died." And we know that Jesper's debt would cost Colm the jurda farm Jesper grew up on, forcing him to acknowledge the reality of his problems: with Colm being right there, Jesper just can't ignore his afflictions because all he could think about is how his father would "suffer for his antics". If you ask me, this is so representative of his character arc as a whole.

This is further emphasised by how he's reflecting on the first time he spun Makker's Wheel right before this ambush, its intention being merely "harmless fun", but it ended up evolving into an addiction that "split [his life] like a log into two distinct and uneven pieces: the time before he’d stepped up to that wheel and every day since". The rush of a high-stakes situation is the equivalent of the "harmless fun" - it's a thrill that Jesper enjoys feeling, but in reality it's doing much more harm because it's preventing him from acknowledging and facing his pain. And he's indeed in so much pain: there's so much anguish inside of him, but he'd do anything to distract himself from it because the reality is just too painful.

This is where the tables come in: later in Crooked Kingdom, when the crew are being ambushed by the Khergud, Jesper "could feel the pull of East Stave" because he didn't have anything else to occupy his mind with. Then, the minute he thinks about facing his father, "the need to be at the tables was overwhelming" because he desperately needs to distract himself from the reality of his circumstances: "since Kaz hadn't obliged him with something to shoot at, Jesper needed a pair of dice and long odds to clear his mind". He can't use the ambush as a distraction, so the tables it is. As Inej tells him, "they feel like medicine. They soothe you, put you right for a time. But they’re poison, Jesper. Every time you play, you take another sip." This isn't the first time poison has been used to represent something that is preventing the Crows from healing - we also see it with Matthias, when he tells Brum in Six of Crows, "the life you live, the hate you feel - it's poison. I can drink it no longer". Just like how the exploitation of Matthias' grief and pain as a means of fueling hatred prevented him from healing because it kept exacerbating the anguish within him (he had to stop drinking the poison to do so), Jesper's addiction - and, by extension, the thrill of a high-stakes situation - prevents him from acknowledging the wound inside him and working towards healing it. It gets to the extent where “he had always thought of himself as lucky… what if he’d been bluffing this whole time?” - he’s gotten so used to suppressing his pain that he, in a way, loses sense of who he is. His façade has distorted his perception of himself. It's not until Colm arrives in the Barrel that Jesper is forced to acknowledge just how deep that wound is and how much it's festering - just like how he couldn't even feel the thrill of a fight properly because of the possibility of his father getting hurt.

That scene is one of many cracks that start to form as Jesper continues to bottle up all of this pain and trauma, until he finally breaks when Wylan proposes that he's such a good shot because being a Fabrikator allows him to direct the metal of the bullets. Jesper protests, asking Wylan why he can't "just let things be easy" - why can't he just let him keep ignoring his problems, when it's so much easier than facing them? But Wylan stands his ground, explaining that "they’re not easy... You keep pretending everything is okay. You move on to the next fight or the next party. What are you afraid is going to happen if you stop?" This is why Matthias calls Jesper “angry and frightened” - he’s afraid of stopping, because he knows stopping means that he’s forced to face the reality that he’s deeply wounded. This is when he finally breaks under the burden of his own pain, under the reality that he can't keep ignoring it anymore - hence why he chooses to put his share of the reward in Colm's name because, as he explains to Kaz, "I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of money just yet". For the first time, he's acknowledging his problems and working towards fixing them, no matter how much time it takes (because trauma and addiction don't just disappear overnight).

n e ways this ended up being significantly longer than anticipated but this is what happens when I start analysing these books: it snowballs out of control and suddenly I can’t shut up.

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morverenmaybewrites · 3 months

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Warning: this is gonna be a doozy (maybe). But how do you think Jason would react to having his face traced? Like just the very light ticklish tracing of features? Would he let you run your fingers over the brand? Would he let you kiss it??? It’s been on mind so much lately idkkkk

I think that Jason has a tendency to avoid everything that reminds him of his trauma, and the brand on his face is nothing if not a culmination of everything he suffered at the Joker's hands. As such, I don't think he'll ever be truly comfortable to let anyone deliberately touch his brand, even you. Some scars just run too deep for that. That said, Jason also has a (borderline self-destructive) tendency to put other's wants before his own. So if you ask to touch his scars, odds are, he'll let you. But he'll be stiff and uncomfortable the entire time, and will probably avoid you for the rest of the day after that.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #ask #anon #can't sleep so wrote this at 2 am instead #i think the only time he'll ever be okay with his scars being touched is if it's more like an unconscious thing #ie he's lying with his head on your lap you're stroking his hair and your fingers just barely brush it #and even then he'll jolt for a bit before he settles

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beep-beep-robin · 2 years

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steve gets jumpier after vecna because he’s finding it harder and harder to hear people when they approach him. no one really seems to notice because most of the time they approach him normally and from the front, and if they do, they chalk it up to steve being on edge after everything that had happened - just as they all were.

but eddie clocks it when one of his usual greetings for steve almost turns into the latter punching him in the face on reflex. there were a few different variations of eddie‘s more… flirty greetings. one of them involved approaching the other person from behind and leaning over their shoulder, basically whispering a "hey harrington", into his ear.

steve nearly doesn’t react (unbeknownst to eddie, he had chosen the ear that was almost completely deaf by now), but when eddies hair suddenly touches his cheek, he flings himself around, eyes wide, arms ready to fight whoever (or whatever, with his track record) had snuck up behind him. when he sees who it is, he lets out an exasperated sigh followed by, "holy shit, eddie! what the fuck dude!".

sure, eddie could‘ve chalked that up to steve being jumpy in general. but this wasn‘t the first time he‘d noticed something being off about him. it‘s just the final straw, it confirms his suspicions. not that he had intentionally wanted to scare steve, he‘d just pushed his worries aside before and didn‘t really believe what his own observations had already shown him. he thought steve would at least tell robin if anything was going on. but now it’s clear to him that something is up. something that he hadn‘t mentioned to anyone.

of course, steve plays it off right away. says that he was just so focused on the task at hand that he didn‘t hear eddie come up behind him. "bullshit, harrington. you know, i‘ve been keeping an eye on you for a while now," eddie confesses, "you‘ve been especially jumpy lately. what‘s going on? i know it‘s not because of vecna."

another thing eddie had taken note of previously was that steve kept looking at eddies lips when he spoke. at first he had taken it as a sign that his wishes had been granted and that steve might not be as straight as people thought, but then he noticed that he was also doing the same thing with other people as well. like he was reading their lips. that was what steve seemed to be doing right now, too.

he glances back and forth between eddie and the door, as if he‘s scared someone’s going to randomly walk in. eddie can tell that steve‘s glad someone was finally asking about it, almost as if he hadn‘t wanted to bring it up himself. he had noticed that steve rarely ever talked about his own problems, always helping the others with theirs. so eddie’s fucking glad to be the one to offer steve a space where he could finally talk about his own shit.

"it‘s my ears.", meant to be a whisper, but eddie catches it. steves face is turned away from him, his expression bordering on embarrassment. "they‘ve been shitty for a while, since the upside down shit started basically. but they‘ve been getting worse."

steve risks a glance at eddie. even though he‘d had time to think about it, eddie‘s at a loss for words. his heart hurts for steve, the fact that he‘d waited so long to tell anyone made him want to give the other boy a hug. he doesn’t though.

he touches steves shoulder, giving it a squeeze, "well, shit dude. i‘m glad you told me? um… did you like, get it checked out by a doctor?" that makes steve huff out a laugh. "sure. didn‘t help me much though."

they spend quite a while talking about steves hearing. eddie feels like he can see a bit of relief in steve‘s expression, hopes he can give steve a bit of what steve continuously gives their whole group. support, understanding and maybe, if he‘d let him, some love on top of that. eddie’s ready for it to be platonic love, too. whatever steve needed the most right now.

overshadowing the relief though, is guilt. completely unjustified, that much is clear to eddie. he‘s sure steve had convinced himself by now that his struggles didn‘t matter, that he had to just swallow his problems down. maybe someone else had instilled that belief in him, in earlier years. eddie’s determined to convince him otherwise.

"so stevie, tell me: is that why you keep staring at my lips so much?", eddie dares to ask after their conversation takes a lighter turn again. maybe he imagines it, but steves cheeks turn a bit red after processing eddies words. he raises his eyebrows at eddie, "sure munson. what other reason would there be?"

and when eddie notices steve staring at his lips even while steve is talking during the rest of their conversation, he definitely isn‘t getting his hopes up again. definitely not.

#this is so long i apologize #if there‘s any inaccuracies pls lmk #i‘m not hoh myself so!! i apologize if i explained anything wrong #i just needed someone to listen to steve okaaaay #also i hope this makes sense like in general?? i‘m very tired and i just wrote this instead of sleeping lol #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steveddie #headcanon #steddie fic #ficlet #hoh steve harrington #original post #vanessas writing #vanessas headcanons

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running-on-a-broken-record · 8 months

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MadPat with Reader getting yelled at in the Pizzeria

Totally not based off my experiences with working at a pizzeria

Mad loves having you work with him. Even if it’s only part-time, every time you're at the pizzeria, he's in a noticeably better mood, and the other employees are grateful.

He sometimes just lingers around the area where you're stationed so he can watch you work.

He's in the kitchens, observing one of the new employees to make sure they're not messing up. It's his absolute least favorite part of owning the pizzeria, and he's definitely not pleased. All he wants is to go home and just spend time with you.

It's actually kind of surprising that he hears the commotion coming from the dining part of the pizzeria, because the kitchen is loud, but he does, and his attention is drawn to it.

He's mostly expecting it to be some child being scolded by its mother- god he hates those creatures- or some employee that dropped a pizza by accident.

But... he finds you, basically surrounded by three teenage boys.

They're yelling, and you're clearly not sure what to do, because your eyes dart between them and you're definitely scared.

"How hard is it to make a fucking pizza?" One of the kids, the one with the bad hair, yells directly at you.

He pulls you away from them quickly, now enraged that they would dare speak to you like that. It hurts him how you panic a little more at the feeling of being pulled away, but he hides you behind him, out of sight. You cling to him desperately.

"Is there a problem?" Mad says through gritted teeth, fighting each and every one of his demons to not murder the kids right there and then.

"We ordered a pizza ten minutes ago, where is it? It can't be that hard to make!"

"Did my employee warn you there would be a wait?"

"No!"

His eyes narrow. He's seen you work. You always let customers know about the wait for their food. So not only are these idiotic kids yelling at his best employee- his lover- but they've been ignoring you too. It's starting to look exponentially worse for them.

He wants to kick them out. The way you squeeze him a little tighter after the boy yells again only fuels that.

"Are we going to get our pizza or not?" Another one of the three teenagers says, frustrated for no reason at all, really.

He thinks for a second. "No. Get out."

"What?!" The teenagers all shout.

"You're banned from my pizzeria. Get. Out."

The boy with the bad hair scoffs. "Fine. Come on, guys."

The three boys and a fourth teen, a girl, leave. The girl, without the boys noticing, mouths an I'm sorry, and he nods slightly, turning to you to make sure you saw it too.

"Are you okay?" He asks as soon as they're gone, holding your shoulders.

You shaking from the encounter makes him furious, and once again he debates adding to the list of missing children in the pizzeria.

He doesn't even care when your shift ends, he's the owner of the place and he can do what he wants. He tells you to grab your stuff and clocks you out and takes you home.

He's literally so soft for the rest of the day, because seeing you being yelled at made him so angry and protective that he just wants to make sure you're okay :)

If you want to go back to work later that day, he'll probably let you, but he will keep a closer eye on you.

#I have never gone this feral for a post goddamn #I actually headcanon that Mad doesn't visit his pizzeria unless he absolutely has to #and that he prefers to stick to the paperwork side of things #but visiting is inevitable #anyway for the sake of this fanfiction we will pretend he works there frequently #i wrote this instead of sleeping #tw swearing #tw yelling #I feel bad putting a whole other story in the tags but I feel the need to mention all of my thoughts #“the kid with the bad hair” genuinely had the worst/weirdest hair I've ever seen in my life #tw mentions of murder #I want me a man who would murder annoying teenagers for me :(#madpat #game theory #fnaf the musical #matpat #matpat x reader

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lesbiankordian · 2 months

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ID in alt

I've been thinking much abt this page. fukuzawa was so close to killing fukuchi, literally had his blade to fukuchi's throat. but when he says he can't do it, fukuchi is rather quick to accept it. his expression went from this

ID in alt

to what you see at the top. he says it's no matter about something he's been planning for 36 years. I'd like to note that he only speaks after fukuzawa says he's sorry. he stays quiet when fukuzawa says he can't do that, and yes it may be bc of the shock, but the fact he spoke only after fukuzawa took the blame really makes me think it's significant. fukuchi says "no", bc fukuzawa doesn't have anything to be sorry for. what's more, he says he understands and understanding is one of the most important things in their relationship, it's one of the reasons why things look like they do now. fukuchi felt like fukuzawa didn't understand what he went through during the war, fukuzawa didn't get his request back then and doesn't agree with the current one either, both of them have different approaches to working alone and in a group. understanding is key in their relationship and especially important to fukuchi. and that's why him saying that and diminishing the significance of his plan in the previous sentence is so schocking for me.

does it mean that fukuchi finally really understood his plan isn't as good as he thought and that fukuzawa doesn't want to kill him and be the leader? i'd so love to say yes, but i don't believe such change is possible in a second. but there must be at least a gramme of it, otherwise what does his expression mean? because i doubt it's a "i have to resort to plan b which is teruko kills me in front of fukuzawa" face as that would detract from how tragic this scene is. fukuchi wanted to trick fukuzawa to be the leader, yes, but only using fukuzawa's hands. but if he really planned teruko would kill him, then i believe that's a face of guilt and even more sadness.

fukuzawa looks SO faint. normally, even if the situation is really stressful, his posture is straight and he always looks ahead. and yet here we can't see his eyes, his head is downward and he's literally swaying. he apologises through gritted teeth. if i saw those panels out of context and didn't know bsd, i'd never guess fukuzawa was apologising for not killing him. that's how people look when their loved one dies, not when they can't kill them. and so him looking actually sorry just makes me even more obsessed with them, bc it means that even though fukuzawa doesn't agree with fukuchi's plan and doesn'y want to kill him, he still understands (understanding...) it's important to fukuchi.

ALSO FUKUCHI WHAT DID YOU WANNA SAY AFTER "I UNDERSTAND"??? PLEAASE I HAVE TO KNOW. feeling like when dazai didn't finish his stupid speeches

#also the good old 'I'm sorry I cant kill you' god.#bsd 113 #this may be so wrong bc anytime i think abt fkfk i feel like idk them but have this anyways i wrote it on the train and instead of sleeping #and instead of doing other things #fukufuku #bsd fukuchi #bsd fukuzawa #bungou stray dogs #bsd manga spoilers #bsd analysis

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nonbinary-eddie-munson · 1 year

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I was thinking about how the run away with me au Robin and Steve "should we get divorced?" conversation comes about:

Theyre about 23 and Robin comes home in tears after another break up. The reason: Robin had asked her girlfriend of 8 months, Lorraine to move in with her and steve. Lorraine assumes this means steve is moving out and when Robin clarifys that no Steve is staying, he's an important part of her life theyre married for chists sake. Well Lorraine doesnt take that well, says she isnt going to spend her life playing second fiddle to Steve.

This isnt the first time a relationship had ended for either of them because a partner hadnt been able to accept that Steve and Robin were a package deal. Things had been especially rough for them romantically in the first couple years of their marriage. It wasnt until a particularly awful screaming match between Robin, Steve and Steves first real boyfriend, that they were able to admit their relationship was incredibly codependent and unhealthy. Steves boyfriend had been upset when Steve had cancelled on him for the 3rd time in a row because of a Robin Emergency™️ and decided to confront Robin about it while Steve was in class. Things escalated quickly when Steve came home early from class to find them arguing and immediately took Robins side. The argument and Steves relationship ended with a slammed door, a lot of tears and a new rift in Robin and Steves relationship.

It took a lot of long conversations with Carina and Marjorie, Steve working through his toxic masculinity enough to go see a therapist - He and Robin made a deal that theyd both go talk to someone about, you know almost dieing "do you think me being fucked up by what happened at starcourt makes me weak steve?" "No of course not!" "Well then why would it make you weak?" - and a summer spent apart (Robin taking an internship in rome to study latin) for them to sit down and have a long conversation about boundaries and ground rules for how they would navigate their relationship as well as dating in the future.

Steve and Robin agreed to both take a break from dating while they worked through their respective traumas, and figured out how to navigate their relationship in a healthy way. Things werent easy, the both of them occasionally backsliding into unhealthy behaviors, more than a few nights where one of them spent the night with Carina and Marjorie in order to have space from eachother. But eventually they get their shit figured out and decide to brave the world of dating again. Steve and Robin both have their share of flings and short lived relationships but nothing so far seemed to stick. That is until Robin met Lorraine.

Lorraine was funny, sweet and a little bitchy. They had immediately clicked after being introduced by some mutual friends from school. Robin really thought things with Lorraine were going to work out. Steve and Lorraine had gotten on like a house on fire, she had slipped into Robin and Steves dynamic easily, trading jokes and light hearted jabs, cooking breakfast together on days Lorraine would stay at their apartment. Robin had fallen hard and fast, she thought she had finally found someone who accepted that her and Steve were a package deal. So 8 months in when Lorraines lease was ending Robin (with agreement from steve) asked Lorraine to move in. Things don't go to plan. Robins dreams of a future with lorraine are shattered. She goes home broken hearted.

After Robin has cried herself out, her and steve cuddled together on the couch Steve is the one to broach the topic. Robin immediately bursts back into tears before he calms her back down again saying he doesnt want a divorce but he also doesnt want to hold Robin back, doesnt want to be the reason she cant find happiness. Robin replys by saying if anyone is holding the other back its obviously her, steve gave up everything to protect her afterall. Steve calls bullshit -years of therapy and he can finally say that word without cringing- says he would do it all again in a heartbeat, that she doesn't owe him anything. They stay up all night talking about it, about what the both of them want from their futures. Neither can see a future without the other. they're platonic life partners, one day they'll find their someones who can accept that and if not well, they'll always have eachother.

Of course they do find their someones in the form of a charming if infuriating metal head and a brilliant, sweet, and badass reporter. Through trial and error the four of them figure out how to navigate life together. They all live happy ever after.

Robin and Steve celebrate 30 years of marriage with divorce papers. They'll always love eachother but now they dont need a marriage to keep eachother safe. They dont need a marriage to stay as platonic life partners. They have eachother and they have Eddie and Nancy. They have everything they need.

Lmk what you think! I'd love to have someone to scream with about this AU and bounce ideas off of :D

Tagging by request <3 @ramyayaya

#i think steve and eddie find eachother infuriating in a good way and also a sexy way and i love that for them #i wrote this instead of sleeping #i'll actually turn this into a fleshed out fic i swear. i just happened to see a post talking about how a lot of fics make steve and robin #imcredibly codependent and started thinking about how i would handle that in my fic and decided to write out my ideas #i dont want it to come off as magically theyre perfect and okay. i think things would be messy in the beginning. and still a bit messy #even after bc theyre only human you know. i think having elder queers to talk to would be so important to them for helping them figure #things out you know #i think eddie and nancy wouldnt enter the picture until Steve and robin are 27/28 #im also still trying to figure out relationship dynamics bc the fruity 4 are in a polycule and how i think that would be for them #no matter which way you look at it the relationship between the 4 of them is inherently queer and thats beautiful #i hesitate to have eddie and nancy marry eachother in turn bc yknow heteronormativity #i think people assume theyre together and that eddie and nancy never confirm or deny why people make that assumption #but idk if they ever get married idk ill have to think about it #if you read this far in my tags feel free to hop in my dms and scream with me about this au #id love to have someone to bounce ideas off of #run away with me au #platonic stobbin #robin buckley #steve harrington #steddie #ronance #long post

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themosskid · 1 year

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After Steve and Eddie have been together for a little while Steve and Wayne get pretty close.

Wayne knows about the Harringtons, the big house that’s empty most of the year. The cold looks and sharp snapping of Mr Harrington, the calculated and distant Mrs Harrington. He knows about Steve’s insistence on not accepting help, of not knowing what to do when it’s offered.

He also knows about Steve. How caring he is, both for Eddie and for the group of kids that hang around them. He sees how he does pretty much whatever Dustin asks. He sees the way he looks at his nephew. He sees how hard Steve works, how many hours he puts into the video store.

Wayne and Steve get close, they talk about sports and other things Eddie doesn’t understand, Wayne teaches him things he never learned from his own father.

Eddie mostly jokes about how Steve is Wayne’s favourite now, how he’s replacing him.

One time Eddie comes home to the trailer after a Corroded Coffin practice to find Steve and Wayne on the couch watching some sports game, each with a beer in hand.

“Jesus,” Eddie mutters as he slips his shoes off. “Steal my boyfriend why don’t you.”

Wayne waves him away. Steve just turns to smile at him and says, “how was practice?”

Eddie sits next to him, stealing a sip of beer. “It went good, we’re working on a couple new songs, I think you’ll like them.” he winks at Steve, who snorts.

“Yeah, maybe..”

Steve looks at the clock, “I should actually head out now, my parents are coming home tonight and the house should probably be clean for them.”

“You want help?” Eddie stands with Steve.

“No, it’s fine, thank you.” He turns to Wayne. “Thanks for having me over, we should do it again sometime and hopefully I can stay for the full game.”

Wayne nods, smiling, and waves him off. “See you later.”

“You sure?” Eddie asks by the door.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow.?” Steve leans in to kiss Eddie goodbye.

“Yeah, see you then.” Eddie stands in the doorway watching Steve get into his car.

Eddie sits back down by wayne, “his parents are…”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I went to school with his father.”

Eddie looks up in surprise.

“He was a real tool back then, i can’t imagine he’s changed much. People don’t tend to improve when they’re like that.”

“Some do..”

Wayne smiles at his nephew, knowing they’re both thinking of Steve in that moment.

“Yes, i suppose you’re right.”

#i wrote this instead of sleeping and idk where i was going with it #wayne munson adopts steve harrington you can’t change my mind #steddie #steddie headcanon #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #wayne munson

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prettybillycore · 2 years

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We Can All be A Little Less Lonely | harringrove x reader [1/2]

Summary: Y/n Henderson is the older sister of Dustin and is a bit of an awkward high schooler. She's dating Jonathan, and from the outside, everything seems fine. But, in reality, you two don't get along. Will your relationship survive between your long-time crush on Steve Harrington and the new boy who's come to town, Billy Hargrove?

Pairing(s):

Steve Harrington/Reader/Billy Hargrove (harringrove x Henderson!reader)

Minor Jonathan/Reader

Minor Jonathan/Nancy

Word Count: 12.2k (Ik I went overboard)

Rating: Teen

Warnings:

- Canon Typical Violence

- the use of the word queer

- Possessive!Billy

- mentions of cheating

- Cigarettes

- alcohol/drunkness

- only about half-beta-ed as of the publishing date, but as I have more free time I'm going to correct like my random comma splices, for now, please forgive them.

⬇️ Read on AO3 ⬇️

right here on tumblr :3

There were three boys. They had all come into your life in different ways and had absolutely taken over your life—some for better, and some for worse. As a Henderson, you were shocked that you had gotten yourself into this mess.

Steve Harrington had been your longtime crush. You had become aware of the boy during your freshman year of high school. You were introverted like Johnathan and ended up gravitating toward him instead, even though Steve had caught your eye. He gave you the good kind of anxiety; the butterflies in your stomach, their smile makes you want to throw up sort of anxiety. You saw Steve as out of your league and didn’t get your hopes up that he would ever see you as anything other than a girl his friends bully. Besides, he started dating Mike’s sister Nancy. You felt like she was everything you wished you were. You felt like you couldn’t compete with her in any department. You were happy with your friend group and knew that Steve was probably an asshole just like the rest of them, but there was something about him that profoundly sparked your curiosity, though. You did your absolute best to ignore it, though. You had bigger things to worry about than your stupid crush on Steve Harrington.

By the end of your freshman year, you were dating none other than Jonathan Byers . He was kind, and your relationship was simple. His smile didn’t make your stomach do flips, but you thought his face looked adorable when he was at peace. His mom and brother loved you; from the outside, your relationship was absolutely perfect. On the inside, though, you two fought a lot. You wanted very different things in life, and at the first sign of stress, he’d shut you out. Will’s disappearance, the discovery of the Upside Down, and the appearance of Eleven were slowly breaking down your relationship. You both persisted on like everything was fine, but your brothers both knew it wasn’t. The Party had a pool on how long it would be before the two of you split up.

When Billy Hargrove came to town, you knew you were doomed. He was smug, silly, and good-looking. He was everything you were told to stay away from, and at first, you did. However, as time went on, you knew you were in trouble. It only took a week before the first butterflies hit your stomach. Billy and his little sister Max (who your brother wouldn’t admit he had a crush on, but he did) arrived in his Camaro. You were sitting on the hood of Jonathan’s car, and Billy tossed a wink in your direction. You showed nothing on your face; you gave him no satisfaction in your response. Your stomach was completing its own roller coaster track inside your body, but all you did was give him a deadpan stare and raise your eyebrow. Fuck, that’s the same feeling as Steve. Billy turned away from you, but that was when he became infatuated.

Jonathan removed his hand from the small of your back. Billy may not have seen through your expression, but Jonathan sure as hell did. “Really, Y/n?”

“What?”

“Him? He’s only been here like a week, and I can already tell he uses girls. He has sex with them and tosses them out. Why would you ever be interested in him?”

You rolled your eyes and leaned your chin on your hand, using it to support your head. “Oh, please, Johnathan. I don’t have any interest in him. I can tell he’s a douchebag. Besides, I’m dating you, aren’t I?”

“We both know I’m not your normal type, and that you can like multiple people.”

You huffed. You regret deeply ever expressing to Johnathan that you had feelings for Steve. He was very could with you being queer and polyamorous; he just asked for your relationship to be monogamous. You were cool with that, and you were glad you were honest with him about your sexuality, but you loathed yourself for mentioning your long-time crush on Steve. Whenever he was mad at you, he brought up that he was not your typical type, and if you had the chance, you would dump him for Steve… or someone like Billy. “Uncool, Johnathan. I would never cheat on you. We’re monogamous and I’m chill with that. I literally didn’t even blink when Billy winked at me.”

He sighed deeply, “whatever love, I’m gonna drop it. Just don’t turn your back on me, yeah?”

| < ♥️ > |

By Halloween, your relationship with Jonathan was crumbling. Your brother kept checking with you to see if you and Will’s older brother were still together. Every day you said yes and it seemed to genuinely surprise Dustin. It was clear neither of you were happy in your relationship, but it also seemed that neither of you were willing to admit that fact.

You were supposed to be spending Halloween trick-or-treating with the party + max, but Jonathan waved you to his car when you all met up. “You want to go to that house party?”

“Huh? Who’s going to watch the kids?”

“They can handle themselves for a night, they aren’t really kids anymore! Besides, we can go see, you know, people our age .” The way he phrased it gave you the ick, but you agreed and hopped in his car.

It didn’t take long before you two arrived at the party and you were immediately overwhelmed. It was loud, cramped, and the smell of alcohol was putrid. Nancy smiled at you and pulled Steve close behind her to meet you in the middle of the room. She opened her arms wide to hug you; it was the first time she had ever done that. She had always been sweet to you, but you hadn’t been close since you were little kids. It took you by surprise, and the drink she had in her hand splattered slightly on your back. You leaned in, and you could smell the alcohol on her breath. Your nose crinkled up at the scent, but you patted her on the back and tossed her a soft smile when she pulled away. You all had been through a lot; it was no surprise that she’d want a drink when one was offered. “Hey! I didn’t think you two were coming?” She asked.

Jonathan shrugged. “Change of plans.”

“Yeah…” You sighed. This was going to be such a long night. Why did I let Jonathan convince me that this was a good idea?

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be seeing you both around the party. Try to have some fun tonight; you’re normally both such squares,” Steve teased. He playfully tapped Jonathan on the shoulder.

You giggled, but Jonathan just rolled his eyes. “I think we’ll be staying sober, but we’ll still probably find a way to have some fun.”

Jonathan put his hand on the small of your back and you grimaced slightly. Was that what he wanted from this party? Steve raised his eyebrow in reaction. You couldn’t see his eyes because he had his sunglasses on, but you could see his body language change. Was he feeling protective? You were watching his expression closely, he was about to say something back, but he saw your eyes go wide at something, or rather someone behind him. Billy kept his eyes trained on you as he and his lackeys approached your group. Jonathan pulled you closer by your waist. Steve sighed when he turned his head to follow your eye line, only to realize you were watching Billy.

“We got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington!”

“Yeah, that’s right!”

“Yeah eat it, Harrington!”

Steve took off his sunglasses and focused his concentration on Billy. Nancy, while Steve was preoccupied, started to slip away from your small group and headed back toward the kitchen for more alcohol. You tore your eyes away from Billy to put your hand up to Jonathan’s ear. “You go make sure Nancy doesn’t get into too much trouble, I’ll make sure Steve doesn’t get his ass kicked,” you whispered. Jonathan shot you a confused look. You motioned your eyes toward Nancy, she was feverishly drinking from a bowl of punch that was definitely spiked. “Make sure she doesn’t give herself alcohol poisoning. I would, but that would leave you stuck helping Steve and I know you’re not his biggest fan.”

“Whatcha chatting about there?” Billy taunted.

You pried Jonathan off of your skin. He looked Billy up and down before heading off toward Nancy. You turn your attention back to “Nothing that concerns you, Billy.”

He smirked. “Oh yeah? Well, I feel like it’s pretty unfair that you know my name, but I’ve never heard yours.”

“She’s a loser, Hargrove,” One of his friends said.

“Yeah she’s the toy of the freak’s brother,” Said the other.

“She plays that stupid dragons game with a bunch of middle schoolers for fun.”

“Hey, don’t call her a toy or a loser. Even if she is a little awkward at times, at least she’s kind, unlike you shitheads,” Steve cut in.

“Thanks, Steve, ‘appreciate it,” You replied quietly. Ouch, man, jocks are mean. Their comments killed any confidence you had.

“Shut up all of you!” Billy seethed. You jumped slightly from the tone and volume of his voice. You weren’t scared, just startled. It reminded you of Jonathan and you’s yelling matches. He seemed to notice your change in demeanor, “You two-” he motioned to the jocks, “leave the three of us to chat.”

“But Billy-”

Billy quickly put his hand up, signaling them to shut up, and they did. “Leave.” The jocks scattered.

He turned his attention back to Steve. “You know, Harrington, I hardly ever agree with you, but I am glad that you told them off. It shows you still have at least a little bit of a backbone.”

His eyes found yours. Your stomach began doing flips again. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. “Now where were we? Yes, your name. What’s your name doll?”

“Y/n Henderson.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” Billy smiled; his tongue was tucked between his teeth.

Steve rolled his eyes, “Oh come on Hargrove, she’s got a boyfriend.”

Billy scoffed, his eyes drifted toward Jonathan and Nancy in the kitchen. You and Steve followed. Jonathan was a little too close to her for comfort. “What that Jonathan kid? Please, Harrington. You and I both know how uncomfortable she was with him touching her. My guess is they won’t be together much longer. In fact, I’d say you both are close to being single.” Steve was listening, but his eyes were trained on Nancy. He really was in love with her.

“Will you be okay with him?” Steve asked. His eyes never left his girlfriend, who was currently getting a minor back rub from your boyfriend. It makes you feel sick and your vision blurred until you convinced yourself to look away.

“I think I’d rather be over here right now, than over there. You can go, Steve.”

He looked back toward you, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Probably best you go rescue, Nancy.” You were looking at Steve, but you could feel Billy’s delighted grin in your general direction.

“Yeah Steve, go rescue Nancy. Y/n and I will be just fine.” Steve glared at Billy before turning his attention back to you.

He rested his hand gently on your shoulder. “Bastard tries anything, you let me know and I’ll kick his ass.” It was the first time Steve had shown any care toward you more than you just being Nancy’s friend. It felt like you really mattered to him for the first time.

“You got it, Harrington,” You rested your hand on top of Steve’s and gave it a squeeze before removing it from your shoulder. It had never felt so cold before. Steve nodded to you and left the conversation.

Billy’s face was still covered in a giddy grin. “Sorry about the idiots from earlier. They don’t know what they are talking about.”

You shot him a confused look. “I mean, nothing they said was wrong, but I still appreciate the apology. You hang out with some real assholes.”

“What do you mean they weren’t wrong?”

“I mean, I am a loser. I do play dungeons and dragons with my little brother and his friends sometimes and… I am dating Jonathan. I wouldn’t say he treats me like a toy, but I also wouldn’t say he treats me like a girlfriend.” You paused and looked toward the kitchen again. Steve and Jonathan were squabbling while Nancy was slowly sipping punch again. You rolled your eyes. “I have a feeling he likes Nancy more now than he likes me, but Nancy is with Steve, so he keeps me around. Neither of us really enjoys being lonely. His family and I have been through a lot together.” Your eyes reconnected with Billy’s. You could see a hint of almost sadness in them. It was almost like he related in a way? Maybe he was lonelier than you realized he was. “Sorry, that was probably too much information.”

“No, no, Darlin’ you’re fine.” Billy started to move toward you, but he stopped himself from grabbing your hand. “May I?”

You gave him a curious nod.

He gently picked up your hand. “It’s not often that people are real with me. I really do hang out with assholes most of the time, you’re right. And I mean this genuinely, I’m not trying to do anything weird, if Jonathan ever does anything, and I mean anything to hurt you, and I mean anything, you come find me, okay?”

“Billy-”

“No, I’m serious, Y/n. I am an asshole okay? But like I said to Steve, it is clear how uncomfortable he makes you to me. If he does anything to you that hurts you, come to me and I will kick his ass. I’m a bad guy, and I can see how good of a person you are. We never have to talk again if you don’t want to, but if you need me I’m trapped in this hellhole of a town. I will protect you where you can’t protect yourself, all you have to do is ask.”

Your fingers were tingling. His grip was firm yet comforting and soft. “Why?”

“Why?”

“Why would you help me?”

“I can see that you are a sweet girl, and you don’t deserve how the people in this fucking town talk about you. If I catch any of my boys talking shit about you again, I’ll kick their asses too. You… You clearly deserve more in life than whatever the fuck this town thinks you do. There are so many dicks and bitches here, myself included, but you aren’t like that. Probably why King Steve and Jonathan and Nancy stick around you. You’re like some kind of weird light in the darkness.” He explained. You could see it in his face, he was being sincere.

“Wow… you really are drunk off your ass, aren’t you?” You giggled. “I don’t know if you’ll feel this way tomorrow, but nonetheless, thank you, Billy, really. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone say something that nice about me.”

“Trust me, Sweetheart. Even if I remember nothing else, I will remember this little chat we had.” He brought your hand up to his lips and briefly kissed your knuckles. “I better go before the boys come back.” He stepped back from you and let go of your hand.

“Which ones? Yours or mine?”

“Either, or both.” He shot you another wink before he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone.

| < ♥️ > |

It was another hour of being alone before you realized something was very wrong. You had heard from people inside the party chatting that Steve and Nancy had a fight. You saw Steve get in his car and leave without Nancy. You decided to go looking for Jonathan at that point because you were getting worried, but when you asked. Some classmates, if they had seen him, and they told you something unimaginable. He had left the party without you to take Nancy home. You made your way back outside at that point and sat on the lawn. You just felt numb. You wanted to cry, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You didn’t know what else to do, but wait for him to come back for you. That is if he ever did come back for you.

You ended up just waiting there for hours. A few of your class acquaintances checked in on you now and then, but other than that, you were alone. You were just mentally beating yourself up for ever letting Jonathan convince you to come to this party. It was maybe hour five waiting outside, by the time you saw Billy again. You hadn’t noticed him and his friends come out of the house, you were lost in your own little world. That is until one of the jocks decided to spill their leftover beer on your head. “What the hell?” You spat at the taste of the sour liquid hitting your mouth. It made your skin and hair instantly sticky.

The jock laughed. “Still a loser, Henderson! Even your freak of a boyfriend doesn’t care about you enough to take you home!”

You didn’t even get another word in. “Look at me,” Billy said to his jock friend.

“Yeah Hargrove?” That was all he got in before Billy started swinging. His aim was a little off due to the amount of alcohol in his system, but he still managed to land a decent punch on the other guy’s jaw. “What the fuck man? It was just some beer!”

Billy would have swung again, but you rushed to your feet and grabbed his arm. “Billy, no that’s enough. You’re drunk.”

“So? I’ll kick his ass.”

“I think it’s time for you to go home. You might be pissed at yourself in the morning for punching your friend in my name.”

He looked back toward the jock, though he didn’t try to move from your grasp. “What was that about her boyfriend?”

The guy was holding his jaw, but he was still able to speak. “He left hours ago with the Wheeler girl.”

“What about Harrington?”

“Left on his own, he had some kind of fight with Nancy,” you answered.

“You’re stranded?” He asked.

“Yeah, I am. I was hoping Jonathan would come back, but he hasn’t.”

Billy pulled keys out of his pocket. “I’ll take you home.”

“Like hell, you’re driving,” you pulled away and stuck out your hand, “I’ll drive.”

“No one drives my car, but me, Sweetheart.”

You crossed your arms, “then I guess we are both stuck here because I will not let you drive home like this.”

He rolled his eyes and huffed. He genuinely seemed to be contemplating his options as his friends walked away toward their own car. “Why are you looking out for me?”

“You look out for me, I look out for you. Gimme your keys.”

“Fine, you crash it, I’ll kill you,” he said jokingly. Though you knew better.

“Relax I am a great driver.”

“Whatever you say, Doll.”

| < ♥️ > |

Billy stayed the night at your place. You decided it was the best option because he couldn’t remember his address and he seemed hesitant about bringing you home anyway. You snuck him into your room. Your mom was out of town, but Dustin was home and probably asleep. You definitely didn’t want him figuring out what was going on at this hour. You could fill him in on everything in the morning. Billy had a few extra clothing items in his back seat and brought them inside with him. You blushed and turned away when he started changing, but you soon spun around to face him when you felt a piece of clothing hit the back of your head. It was a clean “The Romantics” shirt. “I thought you’d enjoy sleeping in that. Besides, it’s better than being covered in beer.”

You laughed quietly. “You realize we’re at my place right? I have all my clothes here.”

He shrugged as he hopped onto the bed. “Yeah, but like it’s like a thank you, you know, for making sure I had a safe place to sleep tonight.” You smiled at him before moving to your dresser. You grabbed some clean sleep shorts and a few other things before you moved toward the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna shower. This beer in my hair will drive me crazy if I don’t wash it out.”

“Is it okay if I go to sleep?” He asked.

“Of course, Billy. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

| < ♥️ > |

Billy woke up in a bed he knew wasn’t his own. At first, he felt disoriented, but soon the sweet scent of strawberries and flowery perfume hit his nose and he knew that it was your bed. The chain of events from the night before started to fill his brain. He really hoped he hadn’t overstepped any of your boundaries. Even though he was a player and people considered him a bad boy, he was a stickler for consent. He would never want to push you past your limits.

Even though he had figured out that he was in your bed, he saw no side of you. It appeared that you may have never been in it. As he continued to wake up more, he heard a male voice he didn’t recognize coming from down the hall. The voice sounded younger, maybe a boy around his sister’s age? He knew you had a brother, he had learned that last night. It was probably him. Billy got up and cracked the bedroom door. “Yeah, she’s just asleep on the couch. I don’t know why. I haven’t been in her bedroom, I don’t really go in there. It smells too much like a flower meadow in there for me.” There was a younger boy standing by the telephone, talking loudly into it while eating a muffin. “Wake her? Nah, Jonathan, you know she sleeps through everything. I’m sure you’ll figure it out when she gets to school later.”

Billy snapped when he heard Jonathan’s name. “Hey, kid.” Dustin’s eyes widened while Billy approached. “Is that Jonathan Byers on the phone?”

“You’re Max’s brother.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “Yeah I am, hand over the phone, kid.”

Dustin passed off the phone and scurried back to his room. Billy looked over to you; you were fast asleep on the couch. You had made a little bed there, which honestly made his heartache. Though his worries faded into a smile when he noticed that you had in fact worn his shirt to bed. He turned his attention back to the phone. “Byers, if it isn’t the man of the hour.”

Jonathan was seething on the other side of the phone. “Billy Hargrove? What the hell are you doing at my girlfriend’s house?”

“Depends Byers. Why did you leave her alone last night?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you leave her stranded at the party? You took that Nancy chick home and left her with no ride. Seems like kind of a shitty thing to do, don’t you think?”

“I figured she’d catch a ride home with Steve or something.”

“Harrington left before you did, for your information. She waited hours for you to come back, but you never did. She had no way to call anyone for help either; the phone went out at Tina’s place. That’s a really shitty thing to do to your supposed girlfriend, don’t you think, Byers?”

“Our relationship has nothing to do with you, Billy.”

“Oh you see, but it does Jonathan. You have one of the sweetest girls in town wrapped around your ugly-ass selfish finger, god only knows why, and you treat her like shit. You’re going to listen to me and listen to me good, Byers. If I hear of you fucking up again, I will find you and smash your fucking face into the sidewalk. Are we clear?”

“What the fuck Billy? You can’t just-”

“I said are we clear? You can’t hurt this girl again. I won’t let you.” With that, Billy hung up the phone. Dustin, the poor kid, was standing in the hallway. He was horrified, but also enthralled.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of major asshole?” Dustin asked.

Billy raised his eyebrow. “How long have you been standing there?”

Dustin shrugged, “Long enough to know you care about my sister, which is something I never thought I would be saying about you. I’ve only ever heard bad things about you. I’m Dustin, by the way. I’m the man of this house and I do not give you permission to date my sister, but I guess if you want to be her friend and look out for her, that’s okay. I don’t like how Jonathan treats her either.”

“Well kid, that definitely makes two of us. I’m Billy, Billy Hargrove.”

“Oh, I know.”

“So… you two have met. What did I sleep through this time?” You asked as you sat up.

“Nothing important, Doll,” Billy replied with a smile.

You looked toward your little brother. “Jonathan called. He’s angry that Billy’s here, and then Billy threatened him like nothing I’ve ever heard.”

“Damn it, kid; you gotta have my back next time.”

Dustin huffed. “I wasn’t gonna lie; she’d find out when she got to school anyway.”

“Jonathan can kiss my ass. How much do you know about last night, Dustin?”

He gulped, “Enough. I’m guessing you drove Billy’s car here?”

“Yeah.” You turned your attention to Billy. “How much do you remember from last night?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I remember all of it. It takes a lot more than that to make me blackout drunk.”

You sighed, “I’m not sure if that should be impressive or concerning.”

“Probably both, Doll.” He looked toward the floor for a moment before looking back at you. “Do you want me to take to both to school? I gotta pick up Max, but I’m happy to take you.”

“Is that okay with you, Dustin?” You asked.

“Are you kidding? That’s a 1979 Chevrolet Camaro Z-28.”

You and Billy both chuckled. “Since when are you into cars?”

“Recently.”

You shrugged it off. “Alright, you promise to bring us home later?”

“Of course, I’m not Jonathan. I won’t leave you stranded.”

Dustin laughed at that, and Billy followed him. You snorted and quickly covered your mouth. “Alright, chuckleheads, I’m going to get dressed. You two get your shit together; if we’re picking up Max and planning to get to school mostly on time, we need to get moving.”

Dustin sprinted off toward his room, “Roger that!”

“He’s a stranger, kid, but I like him.”

You nodded to Billy. “Now, the harder part, he has to like you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Doll. He already said I have his permission to be your friend, not allowed to date you, though.”

You rolled your eyes and disappeared into your room.

| < ♥️ > |

You appeared a few minutes later, still wearing Billy’s shirt, just with a pair of oversized jeans with it this time. You all picked up Max, she was confused, but the drive was uneventful. The Hargrove parents were either not home, or they didn’t come outside. Based on how tense Billy was as you pulled up to the house, you suspected that was a blessing.

After a short, quiet drive, you all arrived at school. There were already girls and guys alike staring toward the camaro. Billy could feel you shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat. “Relax, Doll. If anyone says anything to you about this that upsets you, come find me, especially if Jonathan tries anything, understand?”

“Yep,” You popped your knuckles as a nervous habit. You gave him a soft smile before turning your attention to the kids in the back seat. “Make good choices; I’ll see you both later.”

You had already made eye contact with Jonathan from across the parking lot. “Where are you going?” Dustin asked.

“I have to talk to Jonathan before classes start.” You hopped out of the car before anyone in the car could protest. Before you could get all the way to Jonathan, Carol stepped into your path. “What can I do for you, Carol?”

“I’m just shocked.”

“What about?”

“You and Billy Hargrove? You’re really moving in a sluttier direction than I could have ever could have predicted. You’re usually such a little miss perfect.”

You sighed. “It’s not like that, Carol; nothing happened between Billy and me last night. I ensured he didn’t drink and drive; this morning, he offered my brother and me a ride to school. That’s it.”

“Sure, nothing happened between you and Billy last night.” She moved to whisper in your ear. “You’re just saying that because Jonathan’s right there, right? Oooh! You really are dirty. Don’t worry; your secret is safe with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever floats your boat.” You pushed passed her.

“If you keep this up with Billy, you could be one of the popular kids before you know it. That’s why you always chased after Steve, right?”

You swung back around. “Excuse me?”

“You liked Steve because he was popular, but you couldn’t have him, so you settled for Jonathan. Now you actually have a popular pretty boy interested in you, but you don’t know what to do with yourself or your useless freaky ex. So, you’re pretending you didn’t sleep with Billy because you don’t want everyone to know how much of a popularity whore you actually are.”

You huffed. “Like I said, whatever whore story floats your boat, Carol. I really don’t give a fuck what you think about me.” You proceeded on your route toward Jonathan without letting her say anything else. “Hey, Jonny.”

“Hey, what the hell happened?”

“Between Billy and me or between you and Nancy?”

“What? Nothing happened between Nancy and me. Did something happen between you and Billy?”

You shook your head. “No, I drove his car back to my place last night because you stranded me there when you left with Nancy. He slept in my bed; I stayed on the couch because I do still have respect for you and our relationship, no matter whatever the fuck stories people are making up.”

“So you didn’t cheat on me?”

“Of course not, jackass. Did you cheat on me?”

“No. I didn’t. Nancy was drunk and I took her home to her place and then went back to my house. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have found you before I left with Nancy or came back to get you.”

“All can be forgiven, Jonathan.” You stuck your hand out. “Are we good? Ready to go to class?”

He stepped back. “No, I’m not done yet. There’s stuff I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but haven’t brought up yet. This whole situation with Billy and Nancy makes me think I should just go ahead and say it.”

“Alright. What’s on your mind Jonny Boy?”

“I think we should break up.”

“Huh?”

He sighed. “You heard me Y/n. Look, our relationship has been breaking down for months; you know that as well as I do. I’m really glad to hear nothing happened between you and Billy last night while we were still together, you are a fantastic girl Y/n, but we are not right for each other. Besides, if you are actually interested in Billy, I think you should go for it. Assholes are usually your type.” All you could do was stare at him. It wasn’t a surprising outcome to this situation, but it still wasn’t an easy thing to hear. You could feel tears welling in your eyes even though you were trying not to let them spill. “C'mon Y/n, please don’t cry.”

“I’m just processing. I’ll ahh… talk to you later, Jonathan.”

| < ♥️ > |

You spent most of your day in the farthest bathroom away from people. It was in the back corner of the school and hardly anyone ever used it. You knew that your breakup was for the best, but it was also incredibly hard to process with everything else that had happened in the last 24 hours. “Y/n?” Oh fuck.

“Yeah Nancy?” You tried your best to make your voice sound whole, but you couldn’t make it happen.

“Do you need anything?”

“No… But thank you.”

“Of course. I know we aren’t super close anymore, but you weren’t in any classes this morning and I was just getting worried.”

You sniffled, but a small smile came onto your face. “I appreciate you, Nancy; really, I do.”

“Yeah, I ran into Jonathan this morning after first period, and he told me that he broke up with you and that he was worried about your mental health with it. And like everything that happened last night. He should have picked better timing.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I could definitely get behind that.”

“I’m so sorry he left you stranded at that party, I can’t believe Billy gave you a ride. If I hadn’t been drinking, things would have gone smoother. I really am sorry.” You could feel how sorry she was.

“Jonathan’s actions aren’t yours, Nancy. I have no hard feelings against you, really. I believe you’re a good person, truly. I just… I’m upset about the breakup and just something Jonathan said. Ugh… boys are honestly the fucking worst, and I really wish I had never gone to the Halloween party, to begin with. I feel like if I hadn’t gone… maybe Jonathan would have waited to dump me? Carol probably wouldn’t be on my ass? Maybe I wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed right now? Having so many mixed feelings about Hargrove?” You ranted.

“Boys are the worst.” Nancy agreed. “What happened with Carol?”

You groaned. “She gave me shit in the parking lot for being seen with Billy. She’s definitely somewhere spreading the rumor that I slept with him last night right now. She called me a popularity whore and told me I was getting sluttier. I think the second one was supposed to be a compliment?”

“What on earth? A popularity whore?”

“As Jonathan said, my ‘type is usually assholes’. I guess everyone just sees me as some chick who will dote on any boy who raises her social status.”

“Y/n open the stall door.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just trust me.”

You sighed and wiped your face dry. You reluctantly opened the door. Nancy’s face softened as she saw your state. “Oh, honey. Y/n, I mean this genuinely, you are kind and sweet. Not everyone; I would even go as far as saying that most people do not see you in a negative light. Carol is just a bitch, and Jonathan shouldn’t have said that. I mean, even if you were interested in Billy, maybe you know something that I don’t about him. Maybe he’ll be a better person with you around; no one knows everything about another person, or what the future holds. Maybe Carol sees you as a whore, and Jonathan sees Billy as an asshole. Who cares? That’s what they think. I think you are wonderful and I know Steve does too. I don’t know how to feel about Billy, but it seems like you don’t either. And that’s okay for now.”

Your heart did a flip at the mention of Steve’s name. You wanted to know if he was okay after everything last night, but it was so late by the time you got home that you didn’t want to call him. And she was right about your feelings on Billy. Your head was never clear with that boy on your mind. Maybe he was a total shitbag; perhaps he was a villain to everyone, but you. You didn’t know that much about him yet. There was still time to figure things out. “Thank you, Nancy, really.”

“Of course.” She pulled you into a quick hug. You patted her back gently for a moment before pulling away. You honestly wished it was longer; you felt like you needed a good hug. “Do you want to walk with me to the gym? I need to talk to Steve after last night, but I don’t really want to leave you here by yourself; that doesn’t feel right.”

“Sure, I’ll walk with you.”

“Alright, we’ll head that way now.”

| < ♥️ > |

The gym wasn’t a far walk; you and Nancy arrived shortly after leaving the bathroom. You trailed behind her a-ways. You told her you didn’t want to disrupt her and Steve’s conversation. You’d just be waiting in the gym for them to get back. Nancy called out to her boyfriend, who was playing on the court. Well, he was standing on the edge of the court. Billy was at the center, smiling and laughing. You assumed they were on opposite sides, and Billy had just made a basket. Steve looked cute, his hair was messy, and he had his hands on his hips. He looked at you briefly. His face was concerned, but soon, his eyes went from yours to Nancy’s, and his expression turned to one of dread. She motioned him to follow her, and he did, tossing you a sympathetic look as he walked by. You hadn’t caught a glimpse of your face since the break-up, but you were sure it wasn’t pretty. You had felt pretty good about yourself when you walked out of your room this morning, but Jonathan had knocked the air out of your lungs. You leaned up against the bleachers and began playing with your nails. It was hard to make yourself look in Billy’s direction, so you kept your eyes glued to your hands. You wanted to believe that he could be a good person somewhere in his heart; he had been nothing, but kind to you. However, you knew what people said about him. What Dustin told you this morning about his tone with Jonathan wasn’t exactly pleasing. Was it protective? Scary? Asshole-ish? You felt like your thoughts were all jumbled up in your brain. “Hey Doll, come to watch me play?”

You could feel him standing next to you now, but you didn’t look up. “I was hanging out with Nancy. I told her I’d wait here for her to come back.” Your voice still sounded sore.

You could feel Billy’s demeanor change. His aura was frightening. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I’m okay, just waiting.”

“Then look at me.”

“I’d rather not.”

He chuckled, but you could feel that he was upset. “What? Flustered by the fact that I’m shirtless?”

“No, not that either. I’m just, thinking about important stuff.”

The basketball he had been holding in his hands was soon tossed back toward the court. You could hear it bouncing away. “Come play with us, Hargrove!” Tommy called.

“In a minute!” Billy snapped back. You could hear the players’ feet begin to move again. No one dared to argue with Billy. “You can stop thinking about your ‘important stuff’ for a minute to look at me. Show me your face.”

You shook your head and shrunk into yourself more. You saw his hand reach for your chin, but he stopped himself. “Billy-”

“Show me your face, Doll.” You said nothing. He wiggled the tips of his fingers in front of you. “May I?” You gave him a small nod. You felt powerless in the situation, yet somehow safe.

His hand connected with your chin and cheek. You felt him huff in anger at the dampness of your skin. He gently turned your head to make you look at him. You didn’t look him in the eye, but you didn’t have to. His fingers squeezed your skin slightly; he was furious. “What happened, sweetheart?”

You shook your head lightly. His fingers moved with your skin. His thumbpad was burning a hole in your jaw. “Nothing important.”

“Don’t try that,” he shot back. His tone was sterner than you’ve ever heard from him. “You’ve obviously been crying. If it was something I did, tell me and I’ll leave you alone.”

“No no, it wasn’t you, Billy.”

“Then who was it?” You connected your eyes with his, and you instantly looked away again. His intense gaze was too much for you to bare with how many emotions you were feeling at the moment.

“Jonathan dumped me this morning. Nancy found me sobbing in the bathroom and asked me to come with her here because she felt like she couldn’t leave me alone, but she needed to see Steve, for obvious reasons.”

“Say the word and I will beat him to a pulp.”

“I don’t want you to do that, Billy.”

“What can I do, Sweetheart?”

“Can you… can you give me a hug?”

His fingers slid off of your chin and his hand fell to his side. “But I’m all sweaty from playing-”

“I’m going to be real with you, Billy. At this point, I really just don’t care.”

He opened his arms. “Alright.”

You gently wrapped your arms around his middle and squeezed. You felt his chest rise and fall before he wrapped one arm around your back and rested the other on the back of your head. He was sticky, but you buried your face in his chest anyway. You felt your eyes become wet again and a rattled sob escaped your throat. Billy’s grip on you tightened. “Y/n?”

You tried to move from Billy’s arms to look in the direction of the person who called your name, but Billy kept you locked in place. “Shut up, Harrington. Can’t you see we’re having a moment?”

You could feel Steve walking up behind you. His hand landed on your shoulder, “Nancy is waiting for you in the hall. We have a game to finish when you’re okay to leave, Y/n.”

“Harrington I swear-”

“It’s okay Billy,” you wiggled yourself free of his grasp and wiped your cheeks. Steve’s hand fell to his side. “I’ll be fine. Nancy is in pretty much the rest of my classes. I’ll see you around. Thank you.”

You turned your attention to Steve. His face became more worried as he saw yours. “Y/n what happened?”

“Don’t worry about it, Stevie, just Jonathan. I’ll catch up with you later, yeah? Lunch?”

“Are you sitting with Nancy?”

You shrugged. “Probably not. She usually sits with Jonathan and I’m not really big on the idea of sitting with him. If you end up alone, I’ll be in the library during lunch period.”

| < ♥️ > |

Billy watched Steve closely for the rest of the game. Why was Steve invited to lunch and not him? Probably because they’re scared of Tommy and Carol. Billy wasn’t sure why he felt so protective of you, but he did and he was going to listen to his gut. He very vividly remembered the night before. He originally went up to you because he wanted to piss off Steve and Jonathan, and he thought you were cute as a bonus. Then, you two started talking. He watched your expressions and he felt like you could be broken so easily. For some reason, he didn’t want any of that to happen to you and he vocalized that to you because he was drunk. Then, he punched the shit out of Tommy for pouring beer on you. He didn’t regret it at all, even though he passed Tommy a quick ‘I’m sorry man’ under his breath that morning. As long as you let him be around you, he would be. It was almost like he had a real crush, rather than just lust. But am I really capable of that?

Billy caught himself staring at Steve while they were showering after gym. He knew he was bisexual. Steve was technically someone he hated, but he also was good-looking and Billy’s type. He didn’t want his feelings to get mixed up though, he was curious what Steve was thinking about the older Henderson. “Don’t sweat it Harrington; today’s just not your day, man.”

“Yeah, not your week,” Tommy laughed, “you and the princess break up for one day and she’s already running off with the freak’s brother.”

Billy shot Tommy a look and Tommy stepped away from the showers. Billy turned his attention back toward Steve. “Don’t take it too hard man, pretty boy like you’s got nothing to worry about… Plenty of bitches in the sea.” Billy turned off the water on Steve’s shower. “Am I right?”

Steve looked at Billy intently. “Like Y/n?”

Billy locked his jaw. “Not like Y/n.”

“What do you want from her, Hargrove?”

Billy leaned against the metal pole of the shower. “Why do you care, Harrington?”

“Because she’s my friend and I don’t want her to get hurt by a scumbag like you,” Steve fired back. “She’s been through enough as it is. She doesn’t need you fucking her life up. Jonathan’s a nice guy, and he made her sob. I don’t want to even think about what an asshole like you has planned.”

“Well, lucky for me Harrington, you don’t get to decide if I hang around her or not, but for your information, I have no bad intentions with our angel, Y/n. In fact, think of me as her new bodyguard. I’ll stick around to make sure no man in this school ever hurts her again, which also means, you can’t get close to her either. If you even think about meeting her in the library, alone, today, Harrington, I will absolutely kick your ass,” Billy seethed.

Steve chuckled in disbelief. “You are absolutely batshit insane; you know that Hargrove? You can’t stop me from hanging out with her; we’ve been friends for a lot longer than you’ve been around. I appreciate the body guarding, though; the guys in this school treat her like shit.” Steve pointed at Billy. “If she tells me a single bad thing that you do to her, I will set your ass on fire, Billy.”

Steve walked away from the showers, but he could still hear Billy laughing. “Looks like we have a bit of a competition going, Harrington! I can’t wait to win.”

| < ♥️ > |

Nancy walked with you to your class, but it wasn’t long until Jonathan walked up to you both. He asked Nancy to come with him for something. You were civil; you told them that it was fine and that you would be okay by yourself. Nancy was reluctant, but Jonathan seemed persistent, so she ended up going with him. You went to your classes and eventually made your way to the library for lunch. You found yourself a little table in the corner and sat down. You pulled a book from your bag and began to read it as you picked at your food. You knew Steve may show up at some point, but you also knew he might not. He would sometimes join you in the library to avoid being around Jonathan. You knew that Steve didn’t mind the older Byers brother most of the time, but the two didn’t have much in common. Steve struggled socially more than you knew he cared to admit. Sometimes, he wasn’t up for dealing with Tommy’s jeering and Jonathan’s awkward nature. Sometimes, he just sat in the library with you. Nancy always wanted to talk to Jonathan at lunch because they didn’t have many classes together and would pair off. You didn’t mind, you spent so much time at the Byers house you felt like you were with Jonathan 24/7, even when you weren’t. You didn’t know what you were going to do now. All you knew is that you wanted to avoid the normal lunch room.

“Hey y/n sorry I’m late. My crazy-ass science teacher kept us late, AGAIN.” Steve gave you a small smile as he sat down across from you. He had a tray from the cafeteria with pizza, a brownie, and some leftover sugary cereal from their breakfast service.

You laughed. “Really Steve?”

“What? It’s the lunch of champions.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure it is.”

He took a big bite of his pizza. Normally, he had a snappy comeback for everything you said. Today, he just continued to munch on his pizza and stared into the void of the swirling wood grains on the table. “So you and Hargrove?”

You groaned and put down your book. “Ugh, not you too, Steve.”

Steve quirked his eyebrow and took another bite of his pizza. “I mean… what I saw in the gym today didn’t exactly seem friend…like.”

You sighed. “I really just needed a hug today. I still need a hug to be honest with you, Steve. Jonathan really upset me this morning. I know our breakup was for the best, but just the way he went about it makes me feel like such shit. I want to go home and curl up in my bed and die.”

“Don’t beat yourself down like that, Y/n. I’m sure whatever Jonathan said about you isn’t true and-”

“But the thing is, Steve, it is true. He just made a comment about my choice of… male friends and I know it was directed at Billy and at you to an extent. It just made me feel like everyone sees me like Carol does. Like I’m just some popularity whore and only keep the company I do to gain the respect of other students. The truth is, I seem to befriend partiers, popular kids, and sometimes assholes because I like it when other people can pull me out of my shell. I just never want you or Nancy to see me like that. I really like hanging out with you and her Steve! And I don’t know how I feel about Billy right now, but I would love to just be able to explore those relationships without input from people like Carol and Jonathan, you know?”

Steve set his pizza crust back on his plate. “Yeah I do, Y/n. I’m so sorry I dragged you and Nancy and Barb into the same circles as people like Tommy and Carol. I enjoy being around you too and I don’t see you as someone greedy, needy, or weird like that, I promise. I don’t know exactly what Jonathan said to you, and you don’t have to tell me now, but if you need someone to talk to I’ll listen. I don’t always know what to say, but I will always listen.”

“I really appreciate you a lot, Steve, really.”

“I’m always going to be here for you. I know I haven’t always been a good friend to you, but you’ve stuck by me through all the bullshit. I want you to know that I have your back too… and that you’re not allowed to die until after I’m dead. I don’t think I could function very well without our library lunches.”

You laughed at his last comment. “Alright. No burying myself in blankets later and dying.”

“Good! Now, do you want some cereal?”

“I mean why not at this point.”

| < ♥️ > |

The rest of your day was a blur. You went to your classes and just sort of zoned out until it was time for you to move to the next place. Before you knew it, Dustin was running up next to you as you made your way out of school, and Max was trailing behind him. “How are you, Y/n? You look like shit.”

“Thanks, little bro,” you huffed. “I feel like shit.”

“Are you and Jonathan still together?”

“No…”

“Huh? Really?”

“No, Dustin. I and Jonathan are not still together,” You said. “I really don’t want to talk about it. I’m just not feeling too snazzy after everything, you know?”

He nodded. “That’s okay; I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, Dusty. I’m just worn out.”

Max was watching you curiously. Billy was leaning against his car off in the distance while smoking. He was watching you all walk to him. “So you’re single now?”

“Yeah, Kid, I am.”

She nodded and smiled a bit. “Sorry to bring it up. Just confirming something. Are you doing okay otherwise?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. So excited to be heading home, though.”

“Hey! Henderson!” You and your brother both flung your heads to the left as you heard the sound of your last name. It came from Steve. Your little trio came to a stop a few cars away from Billy’s.

“I’m assuming you meant me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Henderson, elder.”

“What can I do for you, Harrington?”

He looked away briefly. He was looking in Billy’s general direction, but you couldn’t confirm that he was looking at him. He opened his arms wide. “You said you still needed a hug when we were talking earlier. I forgot to offer you one when we were leaving the library.”

You chuckled a bit. “That’s very sweet of you, Steve.” You wrapped your arms around his middle, much like you had done with Billy earlier in the day. Your hands were locked together, under his brown leather jacket. The material of his shirt was soft and warm. He squeezed you tightly as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He rocked side to side with you. It was honestly one of the most comforting hugs you had ever received.

Steve sneakily looked toward Billy who’s face was red with rage. Steve just shot the other boy a smile. He turned his attention back to you and pulled away. “Make sure you get some sleep tonight and if you need anything I should be at my place. Don’t be afraid to call the house.”

“Thank you, Steve. I’ll be sure to call you if I need anything.”

He patted Dustin on his shoulder. “Take care of her today, you hear me?”

Dustin nodded stiffly. “Yep!”

Steve looked like he was about to leave, but he traced his eyes across your frame again, and something clicked. “Is that Hargrove’s shirt?”

You looked down at yourself. “Sure enough, it is.”

Steve scoffed and pulled off his jacket. “Put this on, it’ll confuse the fuck out of Carol.”

Carol and Tommy were just across the way, standing by his car. They were trying to make it seem like they weren’t watching, but they definitely were. You took the jacket from Steve’s hands and put it on. “Fantastic plan, Steve.”

He winked. “Anytime.” With that, he started to walk off toward his car.

“Come on children, let’s not keep Billy waiting anymore.” You started walking toward Billy’s car again. The two middle schoolers followed your lead. You could see that Max was eyeing you closely, but you didn’t want to push and ask her why.

You could see that Billy was irritated, but he did his best to cover it up as you approached his car. He took one last drag from his cigarette before stomping it out under his shoe. “Hello, Hargrove.”

“Hey, Y/n.” He gently grabbed your upper arm and pulled you against him into a hug. You sort of fell into his chest and felt his arms wrap around your back.

“Billy?”

You wrapped your arms slowly around him. For the first time since you met him, he seemed fragile. He planted his face into the crook of your neck and you felt his body relax a little bit. “Little shitheads, get in the car,” he said to the middle school siblings.

“Say it nicer, Billy, or I’ll stop hugging you.”

You could feel his grumbling vocal cords. “Little shitheads, lovingly, get in the car.”

Dustin rolled his eyes and pulled the passenger door open. “Your new friend is weird, Y/n. For hugs, I’m giving a point to Steve. After you, Max.”

Billy mumbled something under his breath, but you couldn’t understand it. He didn’t say anything audible until both middle schoolers were in the car. Billy pulled you off him and placed his hands firmly on either side of your face. It doesn’t feel aggressive, just stern. “Lovingly, what the hell was that?”

“What was what?”

“You, just now, hugging Steve?”

He’s upset about me hugging Steve? “Oh! I told him I still needed a hug earlier today, so he offered to give me one as he was leaving.”

“So why did you accept his jacket?”

“To piss off and confuse Carol.”

“Carol?”

“Tommy’s girlfriend, with him by his car right now. She called me some nasty shit in the parking lot this morning in relation to us being seen together.” Billy looked past your head toward Tommy’s car. He showed no care in the world toward the fact that the couple could see him staring. He couldn’t help, but feel like it was his fault.

“I’ll make sure the bitch never speaks to you again.”

“Don’t do anything bad to her, Hargrove. I’d love for her to leave me the fuck alone, but not at the cost of you going to jail or something.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry about stuff like that sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

| < ♥️ > |

Your time at home was spent mostly in your room. Steve, Nancy, and Billy did all truly improve your mood when you were at school, but as night fell and you were alone, your self esteem began to shrink. Before he dropped you off, Billy slipped you the phone number for his house, but he told you only to call if it were any emergency. You didn’t quite know why, but you suspected that his dad was much like yours when you were a child and he was still around. You didn’t want to call him and get him into any kind of trouble.

You were crying. Your brother knew you were crying. He told you to call Nancy and he so wished that Barb was still around so you could have called her too. Nancy’s family phone fell flat. It rang, connected for a moment, and then hung up. You assumed her parents caught the call before she did and you didn’t dare call again. Dustin wouldn’t step into the living room, he was peering in from down the hall. He didn’t want to see what state you were in. He knew it was bad. “Just call Steve, Y/n. He’ll come over. His parents are never home so it would just be him there, right?”

“Yeah… I will.” You knew only four numbers; Jonathan’s, Barb’s, Steve’s, and Nancy’s. You knew that Joyce would be sympathetic toward you and she would always consider you family. She had told you that many times before, but you felt like you couldn’t go to her with this. It was, at the end of the day, about your relationship with Jonathan after all.

You dialed Steve’s number and mumbled a prayer that he would pick up. Thankfully, your prayers were answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, Steve. I’m sorry it’s so late.” You choked up on your tears. Your throat felt like it was trying to swallow itself. “Would you want to come over and watch a movie or something? I’m not doing so hot. I tried to call Nancy, but she didn’t pick up.”

He sounded sleepy at first, but his next sentences sounded much more awake. He realized how upset you were. “Yeah, I don’t mind. I already got some sleep in, so I can be up with you however long you are awake.”

“Thanks, Steve, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ll be over soon! Just don’t do anything stupid before I get there.” He hung up the line quickly. You assumed he was rushing around trying to gather his belongings.

You sighed in relief and turned to Dustin. “He’s gonna come over and we’re gonna watch a movie. You can go to bed if you’d like. I’m sorry for keeping you awake.”

“It’s okay, Y/n. You’ll be okay until Steve gets here?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Alright, goodnight, sis.”

“Night, Dusty.”

| < ♥️ > |

Steve slouched his back against the couch seat. You were almost asleep, sprawled out on the couch itself. Steve didn’t mind his spot on the floor, you had given him a blanket, and he wanted you to fall asleep. When he arrived at your house, he could see the tears in your eyes and tiredness in the lines of your face. He sat himself on the floor and you tried to argue for him to sit on the couch, but he denied it. He told you to lay down and he’d pick a movie. You eventually agreed and grabbed blankets for the both of you from your room. Now, it was almost time for the sun to come up and you were sleepily watching poltergeist. “Thank you for coming over Steve, I really do appreciate it, Steve.”

“What friends are for, Y/n,” he replied. “You okay?”

“Feeling a little silly for getting so upset. We’re just kids, but everything always feels so life or death in our world. I just, I don’t want to lose the Byers family in my life. Joyce is like my second mom and Will is a sweetheart. Jonathan’s not a bad person, he just made me sad you know? Like maybe eventually we could be friends again? After I’ve healed and stuff?”

Steve looked toward you and it felt like his eyes were pouring into your soul. “You’re not silly for wanting some company. Breakups are hard, okay? And like with him and his family and stuff, I’m sure you could be close to them still if you wanted. Jonathan doesn’t seem like the vengeful type or anything.”

“Thanks again, Steve.”

“Of course.”

He smiled at you briefly before turning his head back to the movie. He knew it wouldn't be long before you fell asleep now. He was glad, he knew you needed the rest. It had been a rough Halloween for everyone, but you and him especially. It felt like Nancy and Jonathan were pushing you each out. He didn’t know what to do or necessarily what to say. He just wanted you to feel safe and as calm as possible. Sleep seemed to be the easiest way to do that. He looked back toward you, your chest was rising and falling rhythmically. He breathed out in relief. You were fast asleep and he felt confident enough to close his own eyes. It was time for both of you to get some rest.

| < ♥️ > |

Steve awoke a few hours later because the living room phone was making a lot of racket. Steve groaned, but soon quieted when he realized that you were still asleep. He knew that you could sleep through a lot, but he decided to rush to the phone since there was no sign of Dustin stirring. He didn’t want it to keep ringing and possibly wake you. He picked the phone up off the wall and cleared his throat. “Henderson residence, Steve speaking, all the Hendersons are asleep right now, can I take a message for anyone?”

Steve heard a noise coming from the other side of the phone, it almost sounded like a growl. “What the fuck are you doing at Henderson’s house, Harrington?” Oh fuck, not this asshole. Why is he calling her?

“Hargrove… Why are you calling Y/n at like 8 in the morning?”

“Why are you at her house, answering her phone?” Billy asked.

Steve bit his lip. He knew that you would probably be upset with him for provoking Billy, but he couldn’t resist the temptation. The dude was crazy and possessive. Steve was annoyed with himself for finding Billy at all attractive. His first priority in this situation was to keep you safe, his confusing feelings toward Billy didn’t matter and while he didn’t want to upset you, he wanted to do what he thought was best. “She was having a hard time last night so she asked me to come over and watch movies. So, again I ask, why are you calling her? And why so goddamn early in the morning?”

“I was calling to check in on her; breakups can be painful. Pretty girls like her shouldn’t be abandoned in their times of need. I just wanted to give her some comfort.”

Steve could hear the smugness in Billy’s voice and oh god it pissed him off. “You and I both know that’s bullshit Hargrove, you just want to take advantage of her while she’s vulnerable.”

“I would never do that, Harrington. That’s low, even for me.”

“I-”

“Steve?” You called. “Is that Billy on the phone?”

Shit shit shit shit. I woke her up.

He knew he couldn’t lie to you about it, Billy would just tell you and then you’d be mad at him. “Yeah, it is.”

You shuffled over to the phone, still wrapped in your blanket. You had draped it around your shoulders. Steve found it endearing. You stuck out your hand for him to give you the phone. He was hesitant, but he did hand it over. “Hey, Billy.”

You could feel his smile radiating through the phone. “Hey, Doll. What’s that jackass doing at your house?”

You rolled your eyes. “I would appreciate it if you and Steve at least pretended to like each other and while I have no obligation to tell you, I will. Steve came over last night, late because my brother was ready for sleep, but didn’t want to leave me awake alone. I was struggling pretty bad with feelings about the breakup.”

Billy sighed. “Just for you, I will try to show Harrington some form of respect, as long as he shows some back.”

You smiled. “I’ll let him know. I do very much appreciate your cooperation. Now, why did you call?”

Billy was fiddling with his fingertips. He did his best to seem stable around you, even if he failed, at least he was trying. Though, he felt like he was slipping. “Well, I was wondering if you would want to go on a date tonight? We could get to know each other better and take things slow if that’s the pace you’re comfortable with.”

You let out a sigh. You were honestly interested. What would a date with Billy Hargrove be like? However, you knew that there was a possibility that he was lying about his intentions to get closer to you. You didn’t want to believe that because the version of him that you knew was protective and unyielding, yet sweet and soft, but you knew that it was a strong possibility.

“Doll?” His voice brought you back to reality. “You can say no. I won’t hold it against you if you aren’t ready.”

“No no. We could try. Just caught me off guard, that’s all. You promise, take it slow?”

“I would wait a lifetime for one date with you, Doll.”

Your face flushed. Steve quirked his eyebrow at you. “When?”

“Tonight. 7 o’clock. I’ll pick you up.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

“Until then.” Billy hung up the phone.

You put the phone back on the hook and looked toward Steve. “What did he want?”

“He asked me if we could hang out later. I said yes, I know you’ll have to leave at some point and I’d rather not be alone today. I like company when I’m sad, you know?”

“Uh-huh.” Steve’s expression told you that he was unconvinced. You felt bad for giving him half of the truth, but you knew him well. He was one of your good friends. He would definitely not approve of you officially going on a date with Billy.

“Promise I’ll reach out to you if I need to afterward. Plus, I still carry pepper spray after that whole monster thing last year.”

“Fair enough…” He still seemed displeased with your answer, but he appeared to brush it off. “You want breakfast? We could go to the diner and bring something back for Dustin?”

You smiled. “That sounds lovely.”

| < ♥️ > |

Steve left reluctantly around noon. Dustin could be heard making a lot of noise in his room, but the odd crashing sound coming from there was not out of the ordinary. You put on a little black dress that you had purchased with a date with Jonathan in mind, but you didn’t care. It was something you felt good in and you wanted to feel cute. You called Billy after Steve left and nailed down some details. You knew that you would be getting food and going from there. This dress with a pair of your converse was a perfect middle ground. Did it look a little silly wearing a kind of fancy dress with converse? Yes, but they were in style and comfortable. You got ready around 4 before heading down to the local store to pick up a fresh tube of your favorite lipstick. You didn’t realize how low it was until you went to use it and the stub you had left crumbled on your lips. It was just the local general store, but they sold a few makeup things here and there. This particular lipstick was cheap and good. You were a little relieved when you discovered that Joyce wasn’t working, just because it made your trip easier on your anxiety. Everything was going to plan until you saw Steve in your driveway with Dustin and his nail-filled bat. The boys looked over toward your car, and Dustin ran up to your window. You rolled it down. “I’m so glad you’re here— why are you dressed like a stereotypical high school bimbo?”

You rolled your eyes and got out of the car. You didn’t bother to roll your window up; you were too focused on what the hell to say. “Gee, thanks, Dustin.”

“Steve quit gawking!” Dustin spat over his shoulder. He turned back to you. “Do you have plans?”

“Yeah actually.”

“Not anymore! Steve is here because I may have accidentally raised a baby Demogorgon and it may be in our storm shelter.”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

| < ♥️ > |

You couldn’t believe how quickly you got sucked into this mess again. Steve and Dustin filled you in on everything they knew, but unfortunately, Dart was nowhere to be found when you opened the storm shelter. You came up with the plan to lure him to the junkyard, so now the three of you were walking towards it along the train tracks. You were trailing a little bit behind the boys, trying not to get meat juice on your dress. This is not exactly what you had in mind when you put it on.

The boys were up ahead talking about crushes and girls. You knew that Dustin was talking about Max; you could just tell. It was kind of wholesome. Steve was talking about how he made connections with girls and it sounded like a bunch of nonsense to you. Though, it made perfect sense for how Steve’s relationships went before he started dating Nancy. “Then you just wait until… until you feel it.”

You rolled your eyes. You felt like you were intruding on their conversation in a weird way, so you tried to ignore it for a bit. You focused on the crunching stones beneath your feet and the sloshing of the meat-filled bucket in your hands. How could this all be happening again? Is Hawkins already in danger? I feel like we just stopped the monsters of the Upside Down yesterday. “What type is Nancy?”

You perked up at the sound of the other girl’s name. You couldn’t hold back your curiosity. “Nancy’s different. She’s different than the other girls.” Different than me.

“Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess,” Dustin replied.

“Yeah. Yeah, she is,” Steve answered. You knew you shouldn’t be jealous of Nancy. Steve had never seen you as anything other than a friend, and he probably never will. You needed to be happy for them. They were a cute couple, after all.

“But this girl’s special, too, you know. It’s just, like, something about her,” Dustin said. It made your heart swell. It was the first time Dustin ever talked about anyone romantically, at least as far as you knew.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, hey.” Steve stopped Dustin from walking.

“What?”

“You’re not falling in love with this girl, are you?”

“Uh, no. No.”

“Okay, good. Don’t.”

“I won’t.”

“She’s only gonna break your heart, and you’re way too young for that shit,” Steve said as he looked toward the ground.

Their pause was enough for you to catch up to them. “You alright, Steve?”

“Yeah? Yeah, I’m alright. How are you doing, Party Dress ?”

You looked down at your outfit. “Listen, I didn’t exactly have time to change before heading out monster hunting.”

“Yeah, but like, why were you dressed like that in the first place?”

Yikes. “Just going out with some friends. It’s the weekend, after all.”

“You have friends other than Steve and Nancy?” Dustin asked.

You elbowed him. “Yes. I do happen to have other friends.”

“Oh really? I sure would like to meet them sometime, Y/n,” Steve teased. His face fell, and his tone became more serious. “You can tell me the truth; you can do whatever you want; I’m not gonna be mad at you or anything like that.”

You shrugged. “It’s not like it matters anyway; monster hunting is more important than dinner.” You turned to your little brother. “I think it’s cute that you like Max. You can act on those feelings or you can just let them be, it’s up to you, but whatever you do, show her you care.”

“That’s literally the exact opposite of what Steve just told me. And how did you know it’s Max?”

“Yeah, I know. You’re my brother. I can read you like the back of my hand.” You smiled at him. “Steve is a great guy, but I do disagree with the idea of acting like you don’t care. Caring about your friends and partners is a really important aspect of maintaining relationships. Even if someone likes the cool guy act, they still want to know that the person they’re interested care about them.

You turned your attention back to Steve. “You can say you don’t all you want, but you do actually care, like a lot. And it’s sweet and it’s endearing. You’ve changed so much since we met, Steve. You show that you care all the time now.”

He chuckled awkwardly, in the way that he does when he’s been complimented and doesn’t know how to handle it. “Thanks, Y/n.”

“Of course, now Steve, why don’t you give my brother your hair secrets?”

| < ♥️ > |

Lucas and Max appeared at the Junkyard just as night was beginning to fall. You all decided that the best course of action was to hold up in a bus and wait for Dart to appear. It was hard work getting the space set up, but you were hoping it would be worth it. Steve was leaning against a wall of the bus and you were sitting next to him. The clicking of his lighter was somehow comforting. It sort of reminded you that you were alone out here with the kids; you had another high schooler you could count on to help you if anything went wrong with this plan. Your stomach was twisted in knots. Something in your gut was telling you that things were going to go wrong. “So you really fought one of these things before?” Max asked.

Steve nodded to her. You played with the skin around your fingers. “Yeah.”

Steve placed his hand on your shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, Y/n.”

“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?” She questioned.

You sighed. “I wish it was just a bear.”

“Shit. Don’t be an idiot. Okay? It wasn’t a bear. Why are you even here if you don’t believe us? Just go home.” Dustin spat. He was pacing around the bus. You were honestly shocked by his tone. He sounded quite mean.

“Dustin!” You scolded.

“What? You know damn well it’s not a bear!”

Max rolled her eyes and stood up from her place in the corner of the bus. “Geesh. Someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” She climbed up the ladder to sit on the roof with Lucas. Steve praised him for acting like he doesn’t care.

You huffed and shot Steve a glare. “Don’t encourage him to act like that Steve. Max helped us set up and while she’s sassy, she’s only been helpful to us. Treat her with some respect. Your behavior gives me the ick, Dustin.”

He sighed, and Steve took his hand off of your shoulder. “Sorry, Sis.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, Dustin. I know we are all tense, and this is a scary situation, but that’s not an excuse. There is a difference between acting like a cool guy and being a cool guy, you know?”

Steve was about to say something, but the conversation was interrupted by wailing in the distance. Lucas got eyes on Dart a few seconds later. You grabbed a large knife that Steve had been carrying in his backpack and watched the creature closely through the grates of the bus. Dart didn’t take the bait, and Steve looked like he was getting a wild idea. “Maybe he’s sick of cow.” He tossed Dustin his lighter and started to move toward the door.

“Don’t you dare do what I think you’re gonna do,” You warned. “You’re not leaving this bus.”

“I’ll be okay, Y/n. Just get ready.” You followed Steve to the door, but couldn’t make yourself step out of the bus. Christmas Lights. Fighting this thing in bursts. Setting the house on fire. Your brain was swirling with too many thoughts. You were so caught up in your thoughts, that you almost missed the second monster coming up behind Steve.

Before you could think, you were running out of the bus. “Steve!” You shouted as you managed to stab the creature. It screamed, and the noise attracted Steve’s attention. The worst realization that you both had at that moment, is that there were more than two monsters. Steve ducked and rolled on the hood of a broken-down car to avoid getting bit. You dodged the creatures as best you could in your very inconvenient outfit. “Steve! Y/n! Abort! Abort! OH GOD, Y/N!” You could hear your brother’s voice, but you couldn’t concentrate on what direction it was coming from. Nothing was really making sense anymore. Your eyes were going fuzzy, and your body felt like it was melting into jello. Soon, all the noises around you felt like they were coming from above water while you sank further down into an abyss of darkness.

| < ♥️ > |

To be continued...

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desperatecheesecubes · 3 months

Text

As much as Bruce still professes to ‘work alone’ it is true that the bat cave is rarely empty, these days. His children, and the children that are not his but are his responsibility, gather in clusters throughout the cave at all hours. And yet, Bruce finds himself nearly alone this early morning, post patrol. Nearly alone, Bruce thinks over a cup of tea (Alfred has been a tremendous influence on him) because just stepping out of the showers is Jason. And his hair is dripping wet.

He never did take the time to dry it, Bruce muses. It is almost comforting to see that this habit has stuck with him.

When Dick first came to live in Wayne manor Bruce had, semi regularly, helped him towel off after washing. Not because a 9 year old child needed help but because Dick was a very tactile child and because Bruce, largely, was a very non tactile adult. And so it became a habit where Bruce would dry Dick’s hair by playfully attacking his head with a towel until Dick would inevitably and full of laughter beg him to stop. But Bruce would simply kiss his forehead and keep right on doing it because he could, and it was fun, and also because Bruce loved to hear Dick’s joyful laugh.

Jason had come to the manner at an older age than Dick had. Although there were only three years between 9 and 12, developmentally there was a canyon between the two. On top of this Jason was initially very distrustful of Bruce, and by the end their relationship had been strained. But there had been, briefly, a time in between where Bruce would dry his hair after patrol and kiss his second son’s forehead as well.

Hmmmm. Putting the tea cup down Bruce made his way down from the raised platform of the bat computer to where Jason sat taping his knuckles. Jason was using his guns less, it was true, but he seemingly could not be persuaded to stop punching criminals in the face (angrily). And also the cops (delightedly). And also his siblings (usually playfully, Bruce will admit). And also Bruce (definitely not playfully). His hands, Bruce noted, were actually dry.

Grabbing a towel from the shelf stealthily Bruce walked up to Jason. ‘You look like you missed a spot.’ He said, aiming for a conversational tone.

‘Wuh? With my knuckles?’ Jason began in confusion. He half turned towards Bruce, face scrunched up in irritation.

So Bruce threw the towel right over it and cheerfully began attacking his hair from both directions. ‘Your hair isn’t dry.’ He declared, aiming for that slightly higher pitched voice he used when the kids were younger, making sure to smoosh Jason’s face as well as his hair.

‘Bruce what the fuck! Get off of me!’ Jason barked, trying bat Bruce’s hands away. Bruce of course just twisted out of the way and rubbed harder.

‘You can’t be walking around with wet hair Jason, you’ll catch a cold!’ He practically sang. Jason finally got wise and yanked the towel from Bruce’s hands, glaring up at him angrily. Bruce just grinned, expecting this, and tilted Jason’s face up to kiss his forehead.

‘Gah!’ Jason eloquently responded.

Taking advantage of his momentary confusion Bruce grabbed the towel back and resumed his ministrations on Jason’s hair.

‘Oh my god!’ Jason cried. ‘You’ve lost your mind. Stop that!’ He tried to yank the towel away again but Bruce brought the towel up over his face roughly, preventing him. When Jason made to grab Bruce around the hips to knock him over, Bruce whipped the towel off and kissed Jason’s forehead again.

By now Jason was laughing inspite of himself, and Bruce was grinning, feeling more comforted and relaxed than he had in a very long time. The two continued their antics for a while more before Jason finally managed to hook a leg around Bruce’s ankle, tipping him forward.

‘Oof’ Bruce grunted, as Jason’s shoulder caught him in the stomach, but Jason just twisted slightly so that he could bring his arms around Bruce’s waist and lean his head against his chest. ‘I love you, Jason.’ Bruce said, hugging him tightly back.

‘Yeah yeah, you old lug. I can dry my own hair you know!’

‘Clearly not, considering how wet it was.’

‘Oh my god, dad, it’s fine.’

‘Hmmm’

‘Was that jasmine tea you were drinking? Can I have some?’

‘There should be enough for another cup in the pot.’

#mine #experiencing parental love vicariously through Jason #wrote this instead of sleeping #I also read the whole thing in Sir Patrick Stewart’s voice because I’ve been listening to his memoir and he narrated it himself lol #I also don’t care if this is out of character I’m just here to experience emotional catharsis and Bruce and Jason are the tools I’m using #bend to my every whim BOY MWAHAHAH #anyway hopefully to sleep I go now??#my writing #jason todd #bruce wayne #writing

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allaganexarch · 7 months

Text

forget me not

Stray Gods || Grace/Persephone

She can’t bear to face anyone since she dropped out of college. She had to talk to her parents, obviously, but it’s been almost a year since they spoke. She was expecting them to yell at her, tell her she was wasting her life, tell her she’d never get anywhere without a college degree, that she was almost done, so why couldn’t she just wait it out another couple of years and then at least she’d have finished something? But they didn’t yell. They both just seemed…sad. Tired. And that was so much worse. It was like they had given up on her. Grace doesn’t know how to explain. She still hasn’t quite managed to explain it even to herself. Would anyone understand? Freddie never demanded an explanation—she loved Grace no matter what—but Grace was sure she wouldn’t get it. Freddie was passionate about so many things. Freddie was the sort of person who would probably go on to get a Master’s and a Doctorate or maybe two or three, because she just couldn’t decide what she loved the most. And Grace? Grace barely even felt like a person in college. She tried to do all kinds of things, join clubs, meet people, take classes she thought might be interesting. She tried to distance herself from Freddie, even, and she was not gentle. She tried to destroy herself over and over again, and make something entirely new. She tried to forge herself into someone interesting, someone worthwhile. But in the end, the truth always came crashing back to her. She can’t escape herself. She can’t escape how utterly unremarkable she is.

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friendsdontlieokay · 7 months

Text

Mike has been acting very weird lately, like how he used to react to El being missing. He snaps at the tiniest things, gets irritated about simple stuff, stays rude and upset most of the time... he's just different and not like himself anymore.

At first, it seemed like it was probably because of the combination of puberty and the bleeding of hell into Hawkins altogether, but maybe there's something more to it, like he wants to disguise himself or is hiding away from something...from himself.

But as always, everyone is too upset and dazzled up with their own lives to pay attention or talk out with the boy, and Mike doesn't mind actually, it's always been this way and it's honestly better if no one gets to see through the mask he's wearing.

Until a fair evening when the family starts to have an early dinner and Ted starts to bicker about how he's going poor and poor in his studies and everything regarding life as each day goes by.

Ted being Ted, keeps saying the most nerve hitting comments one by one, like how Mike's so young and already on the path to failure, how he has no good future ahead of him or how he should be more like Nancy, in a calm manner whilst feasting on his chicken, of course.

But unlike all the other times, Mike genuinely snaps and throws his plate out of the table, breaking it, and everyone gets off guard by the sudden incident.

"YES! I'M A FAILURE, I ALWAYS HAVE BEEN, BUT IT'S NOT MY FAULT, I DIDN'T ASK YOU GUYS TO BRING ME IN THIS WORLD, YOU DID! AND NOW YOU'RE BICKERING CAUSE YOU CANNOT KEEP MANIPULATING YOUR "LITTLE BOY" TO OBEY YOU ANYMORE! I CAN'T DO THAT SO DON'T EVEN EXPECT ME TO!" and with that being said he storms out to his room.

Nancy, who's growing more and more astonished by her brother's behaviour, follows him with a rush and enters the room before he gets the chance to lock it.

"Mike, what the hell was that?"

"What the hell was what?"

"What is going on with you?"

"What do you mean by what is going on with me?"

"Mike what the hell just happened in the dining room? You just broke your f**king plate!" She snapped.

"Oh so now you're here to punish me because I broke mom's favourite plate? Fine I'll pay for it!" There he goes again, he's not the same kid anymore who would spend hours in the basement playing DND, or the naive yet smart kid Nancy once knew.

"Mike seriously what is wrong with you!?"

"EVERYTHING NANCY, EVERYTHING IS WRONG WITH ME! NOTHING IS RIGHT ABOUT ME! THAT'S WHAT YOU WANTED TO KNOW RIGHT? I'VE ADMITTED IT! SO NOW JUST GO TO YOUR ROOM AND TALK WITH JONATHAN OR STEVE OR WHATEVER! JUST LEAVE!"

"MIKE! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH YOU, SERIOUSLY! YOU'VE BEEN ACTING SO WEIRD THESE DAYS, WHAT'S GOING ON!?"

"Weird.." suddenly he's stressfully calm. "I told you already everything is wrong, dad was right, I'm a f**king failure, that's what's wrong with me".

Nancy's already drawn back by the confession "Mike.." she goes nearer and places a hand on his shoulder "you can talk to me you know".

He throws her hand away "talk to you!? You're the golden child Nancy, you would never understand!" He snaps again.

"Mike-" "No! Don't Mike me right now! You'll never understand, no one ever will, I don't deserve to be here, to exist, I don't belong anywhere, I'm an outcast, a monster!" it looks like he's trying to hold back his tears.

But instead of being sympathetic, Nancy's voice is stern "MIKE! NONE OF THAT IS TRUE, YOU KNOW THAT! YOU'RE NOT A MONSTER!" And when Mike dared to look back at her eyes, he realised that she's been trying to hold back her tears too. She feels so ashamed of herself, for letting Mike lock himself out, far away from the world, from the people he cares about and the people that care about him, for him to be so alone, so scared, to think he doesn't belong, to shrink in pain every passing second, but she has come here to fix it and she will

Nancy sits on the bed and makes him sit right beside her too. "Mike..what happened?" "Nothing" he replies, but she isn't letting go this time "Mike. What. Happened?" There's determination in her voice and Mike's not sure if he can escape it, but he tries, tries to lock himself in once more.

"I don't know, it doesn't matter". He lies. "YOU DON'T KNOW? IT DOESN'T MATTER, MIKE? WELL IT MATTERS TO ME! MY LITTLE BROTHER'S SAYING HE FEELS LIKE AN OUTCAST, A MONSTER, LIKE..LIKE HE DOESN'T BELONG AND YOU'RE SAYING IT DOESN'T MATTER?" she snaps again, and Mike spots a tear trickling down from one of her eyes.

He feels bad for not telling her the truth, but he can't, as much as he hates to admit it, he knows that Nancy's going to hate him if she gets to know WHO he is, or WHAT he's like, and he doesn't want his sister to hate him.

"You wouldn't understand"

"Then try to make me"

"You won't understand Nancy! There is something so wrong with me, I am broken! I've tried to fix myself, I've tried to fit in but I can't! I don't know how to!"

"Mike-"

"And if I tell you, you are going to hate me too, I just know that"

"MIKE!"

He jolts by her tone and looks up to her just to see that tears are spilling out of her eyes with seemingly no end, and for a slight moment Mike wants to comfort her but that would be totally out of context.

"DON'T EVER SAY THAT AGAIN! DON'T YOU EVER EVEN DARE TO THINK THAT! I AM NEVER GOING TO HATE YOU! NEVER EVER! YOU'RE NOT A MONSTER BUT EVEN IF YOU WERE ONE, I WOULDN'T HATE YOU!"

For a millisecond, Mike thinks she'll understand but then again he's too afraid to risk it, he knows that if he tells her, she's simply gonna walk away and never talk to him again, maybe she wouldn't tell their parents, but it would still be horrifying to see her every day and get reminded of how the ice between them almost finally broke but he destroyed it because he's so damn disgusting. But he knows Nancy, and he knows that she's not gonna leave him alone, so he decides to spill it before he starts understanding how much his sister genuinely cares for him and loves him, in more depth. Like ripping off a bandaid.

His heart is almost bursting out of his chest and he's on the verge of a panic attack, still he's ready to go and make Nancy hate him.

"You don't understand Nancy I'm gay! I'm a f***king faggot" he's crying now, there's no reverse button in life, he has already doomed everything.

"SO!? I KNOW IT MIKE IT DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING! DID YOU REALLY THINK I'M GONNA HATE YOU FOR THIS? YOU'RE MY LITTLE BABY BROTHER, MIKE, AND YOU THOUGHT I WOULD HATE YOU FOR BEING GAY!?" He looks up to her and he internally breaks, not like he's damaged-broken, but he's sad-broken, because Nancy's not only spiling tears right now, but she's wholeheartedly crying, gasping-crying.

He's also crying just like her and he's so glad and surprised and relieved it's like a 404 error, he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what to say but he knows he needs to say something, cause Nancy's crying and he feels like a bad guy for thinking she would hate him.

"Nancy I-" before he even gets the chance to finish, Nancy pulls him into a hug and even though she's practically crushing him by hugging him so tight, he doesn't mind at all, in fact he feels like he's finally able to breathe after ages so he just leans into her hugging her tighter and sobbing hard recklessly.

"Mike, I'm so sorry that you had to feel like you couldn't talk to me, to leave you alone in this bullshit hell hole to suffer all alone, to make you feel like a monster for never checking up on you and for always being so indulged in my own life that I barely come to know about what's happening in your life, for-for being such a selfish person, I know I don't even deserve to be your sister, you're such a good kid and kind hearted person Mike. Gosh, you're a paladin, a literal paladin, you're the heart of the party who cares about his loved ones so so much, who would do anything to protect the people he loves. And Mike, I know it's usually always the other way around, and I'm sorry that I couldn't give you a chance to say that but I truly look up to you, and I am so so so proud of you, bub, and honestly it feels so weird to call you my little brother cause you're so tall and big but it feels like you were a kid just yesterday, learning ABC's from that little phonics book you had, and it's hard to believe that it has been so long gone, I just wish I could've kept you little for just a little while longer, I wish I could play barbies with you for a little bit more time, I wish I talked to you and hugged you even more, I wish I hadn't turned away from you, I'm so sorry Mike for growing apart and distant, and I can't even blame it on my age, that is totally on me, and even if you don't or can't forgive me I just want you to know that I'm really very sorry. You're so grown now, you've literally been through hell and back, and still doing so that it's almost hard to believe that you're still that tiny marshmallow that couldn't pronounce my name and used to call me Nanny, but still deep inside I know that you are still him, you're still my baby brother and Mike, I know I don't say it as much as I should, and right now you might have a hard time believing me but I love you so much, I really really do." To be honest, Mike didn't know that, maybe when they were children he did know that, but they've gone through such huge metamorphosis in their own lives, he doesn't know it anymore, but he believes her, he truly entirely does, but he's sobbing so bad right now, he is in no state to speak so he only clutches to her tighter, sobbing even harder.

Mike is so overwhelmed by everything, how everything's going okay, and maybe even more than okay, by how everything's fixing, all this time, he felt like a mistake and right now someone's telling him he's not a mistake, that he's valued and that somebody looks up to HIM, and it's not just someone, it's Nancy, the golden child in his family, the best student in his school, an aspiring journalist, a badass who can almost win any battle, who kicked off Vecna's ass. Nancy Wheeler is saying she looks up to him and is proud of him, that really is such a big achievement on its own, but then again at this moment he knows that Nancy is no one apart from just his big sister, his superhero sister, his first best friend, his sister, his Nance, his Nanny.

But as much as he loves everything, he absolutely hates the way Nancy looks at herself, or how she thinks she's worthless because that's a lie, she's amazing everybody knows that, and he would never ever admit it yet he feels disgusted by the thought of Nancy thinking she couldn't give him a reason to look up to her, cause he's been looking up to her since God knows when. But for a fact, he knows she's not lying or making that part up to show him his better sides because that's exactly the way he feels about himself too, he just knows that they need to be there for each other and be each other's mirrors to show them their real true and wonderful selves.

"Mike I would never hate you, I could never do that even if I wanted to, and I would never want to. We're gonna fix everything that's hurting you okay? We're gonna fix it together I promise, and this time I promise to keep the promise, it's a promise."

Mike's already relieved and glad that she doesn't hate him for being gay, but one thing he's also super grateful for is how it's Nancy he's confiding too, or who has practically forced him to confide into them but be doesn't mind anymore, instead he feels like he's at peace and a huge burden has been removed from his chest, not only the burden of coming out, but the burden that had captivated him to reach out and talk to his sister, from hugging her because of the unsettled awkwardness that was reserved between them for a while, a long long while. He subconsciously envied Jonathan and Will or Lucas and Erica's relationship and bonding, but the same old awkwardness stopped him from achieving the same bond which he had with Nance before the world turned to massacre, or more like before she went to highschool, but right now her warmth was enough to calm him down and making up for all those lost time, he finally feels like he's home after a long long long period of time, he feels safe.

They sit their hugging and crying for what feels like ages until Nancy speaks again and they slowly start to pull away from each other "And just so you know, if anyone says anything, there's a reason why I've got a Russian mackarov in my room". He chuckles at that and pulls away finally.

"How did you know?"

"Know what? About you being gay?"

"...yea"

"Mike come on, I am your sister"

He raises an eyebrow

"What? You don't believe I'm your sister?" She lets out a dry chuckle.

He sighs in annoyance.

"Fine. I might or might not have read your unsent letter to Will"

"Hey! That's an invasion of personal space! That's a crime!"

"Ha! Says the one who used to steal from my piggy bank on a daily basis"

"Dude! That's not the same!"

"Dude that's not the same~" she mocks

He stares again in disbelief, though he doesn't hate it as much as he should considering everything .

"Now go grab me a glass of water, I'm thirsty from all the tears I just shred!"

"What!?"

"What what? Go bring me some water, I'm thirsty" She shoo shoos with her hand to try to drive him away but he doesn't budge.

She sighs in disappointment and ruffles his hair vigorously "Come on little big guy, get me a glass of water, go!"

He keeps his eyebrows knitted together but heads towards the door anyway.

"Hey umm Nance?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry. I-I mean thank you, and...I love you too"

She smiles and audibly whispers "doofus"

He goes outside the room but pokes his head almost instantly.

"Um also, if money's missing again from your piggy bank, hehe"

Her eyes widen and she throws out a pillow at him.

"Ow!"

"Michael Jeremy Wheeler, I hate you so much!" and with that being said, she starts chasing him because no matter how much she loves him, she will never be able to not hate him cause that's what siblings are.

#Mike wheeler #mike and nancy #Nancy wheeler #nancy and mike #wheeler siblings #mike Wheeler angst #gay mike wheeler #byler #not really #intended audience #i wrote this instead of sleeping #i wrote this instead of studying #siblings #stranger things #fanfiction #angst #hurt/comfort #one shot

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ghostwise · 1 year

Text

ironbark, opal, and gold

words: 1.6k tags: zevran arainai, mahariel, zevran/m!warden, wedding rings, antiva, original characters, fluff

The jeweler’s shop is smaller than expected. Every surface is cluttered with tools, and there is a layer of grime along the wall but not the floor, indicating the type of person who only bothers to clean when the mess is actively interfering with their work. Nor does the jeweler have a proper storefront; just his counter, from which he greets Zevran with a nod before remembering he ought to speak to the customers.

This all means one of two things: either the jeweler is a hack, or a genius. But does it matter?

“Buenas, compadre,” the man tells him. He produces from behind the counter a small case of necklaces and bracelets. “Bonifacio, at your service. What can I help you find today?”

Zevran greets him. He glances over the jewelry, noting the traditional hammered Antivan style, the little swirls of silver, all requiring a steady hand.

“Tell me,” he says, “do you make all these yourself?”

“But of course! Finest silver and gold in Antiva, and anything not to your liking, I can alter.”

“Wonderful!” Zevran says, not really looking at any of the items in the case. “How much could I pay you to make use of your workshop for the day?”

The jeweler sets the case down and scowls.

Zevran smiles at him. He’s already been turned away at two other shops and has a few more to go. This time, he tries a bit of coaxing.

“I am getting married,” he confides, and it’s thrilling to share the news, even with a stranger.

“Ah,” Bonifacio says with a sigh. Holding up a finger he walks away from the counter. Moments later he returns with another case, this one full of sparkling rings.

“I see what you are getting at, young man,” he says, “but for something so important, why leave it to chance? Look at this. White gold and diamonds. Amethysts, rubies. Tell me about this girl. What does she like?”

“He is not so gaudy,” Zevran laughs. “My man is not one for gems. What else do you have?”

“Of course, of course! I have such a variety. Let me bring out the men’s rings. Of course.”

He hasn’t been thrown out yet, and that is encouraging. Instead, case after case of rings is brought out for his perusal. Zevran looks at them all, declining every one, and when the last case has been rejected, Bonifacio sighs again.

“Ten andris for the use of the shop,” he says finally. “Plus materials.”

“Thief,” Zevran scoffs. “I come here with my heart bared and you say ten andris?”

“Nine, then.”

“Has anyone even come in before me today? I very much doubt it. Look at the state of this place—you need to mop your baseboards and clean your windows—”

“Alright you bastard, how’s eight andris and you do the cleaning yourself?”

“Deal,” Zevran quickly agrees and thrusts out his hand. It is midday, and he needs this to work.

Haggling concluded, Bonifacio shakes his hand firmly, like a merchant or a noble.

“Now if you could show me to the work room—”

“Not yet,” Bonifacio says. “Tidy up first. Then you pay, then you use the workshop out back.”

“A fair agreement,” Zevran says, unable to keep the grin off his face.

He gets started right away. Organizing as he goes, he cleans efficiently, the way he grew up knowing one speck of dust could mean retaliation. All the while Bonifacio tinkers at the counter, peering through a lens at the broken links in an old necklace. Nobody comes into the shop. But Bonifacio interrogates him, leaving lengthy gaps between each question.

“So when are you getting married?” he asks.

“Ah,” Zevran says, wringing out a washcloth by the window. “Soon.”

“You don’t have a date?”

“We are traveling, and we need to first find a Chantry willing to marry us,” Zevran says.

“Willing?” Bonifacio asks.

“My fiancé,” Zevran says, and the word glimmers like a big ruby, “is Dalish.”

Bonifacio lets out a low whistle. Few Chantries will bless unions with non-Andrastians.

He’s quiet for a while before speaking again.

“Congratulations. And good luck with, uh, all that.”

Zevran pauses, looking up at the man. “Thank you,” he says, not sure what he means exactly.

Bonifacio grunts. A quarter of an hour passes before he speaks up again.

“My wife was Dalish,” he says, unbidden.

Zevran glances over.

“Lovely woman, but not for the city. Always felt like I was keeping a bird caged. We were happy enough. She called me Bon-Bon,” Bonifacio says with a smile. “It’s just different. That’s all I mean. Parents had their opinion, half the town did. It is what it is. Worth it, though. Right?”

It comes out in a rush, as if he’s been dying to talk about it. Zevran watches him, this middle-aged man with fine tools in his hands, still tinkering on the broken necklace. He thinks about the state of the shop, and the lack of clientele.

“What happened to her?” he asks.

“She passed,” Bonifacio says gruffly. “Last year.”

“My condolences,” Zevran offers. “She must have meant a lot to you.”

“Mmh. Yes.”

The jeweler holds up the necklace, now mended. Every broken link has been repaired. Zevran returns to his sweeping, but Bonifacio pushes himself up off the counter.

“Finish up,” he tells him. “Let’s get started on that ring of yours.”

Zevran leaves the city with his pockets twenty andris lighter, and a velvet pouch clutched in his hands. He’s worked through the day, and the sun has set when he reaches the campsite far past the outskirts of town.

Hamal is there, stoking the fire, singing to it as he does every night. Zevran pauses just out of sight, listening.

He’s thinking, also, of the old jeweler, and his advice.

By Dalish and Chantry law alike, only Death can undo the vow you’re about to take. Cherish the time you have, my friend.

Zevran wastes no time. He walks directly into the light.

“Ma vhenan,” Hamal says, “there you are.”

Zevran drops to one knee before him and kisses him. Hamal hooks a finger into the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer. It’s good that they tend to agree on these things. Zevran is the one to finally pull away, only because he can’t rightly give him the ring while attached to his face, can he?

“Hamal,” he says. He holds out the pouch, takes his hand.

“Wait,” Hamal exclaims, and scrambles to his feet.

Zevran blinks, watching him dash off into the tent. He emerges with a rucksack, tearing through it, tugging out pouches and bowstrings and a hat—

“I am not familiar with these customs—I thought we did this at the Chantry, not before—where is it? Oh!”

Whatever he was searching for, he rushes back to Zevran’s side, a wide grin on his face, hair unbraided and eyes dancing.

“Whatever are you doing, love?” Zevran asks. He starts a laugh, and before he knows it he’s overcome by it, enamorado, muy risueño. And Hamal laughs too.

“I thought—well, aren’t we exchanging rings now?”

“You have a ring?”

Hamal nods eagerly, holding it up in the light. It is a little thing of carved ironbark and gold, mottled in brassy colors only a Dalish craftsman could create. Zevran feels like he’s wanted this precise ring his whole life, and only realized it just now.

“It’s beautiful,” he says.

“I traded Master Varathorn for it,” Hamal says, and Zevran stares.

“Varathorn. That was months ago,” he tells him.

“Yes.” Hamal smiles. “The moment I saw it, I knew I wanted it for you. I just wasn’t sure… the Archdemon…” He pauses, unsure how to say this. “I planned to leave it to you. After… In case…”

He can’t say it and Zevran doesn’t want him to.

Zevran quickly takes the ring he’d crafted out of its velvet pouch. “I made this for you,” he says.

It is a simple band of gold inlaid with opal. Zevran turns it and points to the inside of the band, where the words vhenan and corazon are carved, a tiny opal set between them.

Hamal takes a long look at it.

“Here,” Zevran says, taking his hand. “Listen, because I am not sure that I will get it right in the Chantry, and it is more for you, anyway. You are my home. All my life, I never had one or even thought I could find one; yet I have never felt an orphan since meeting you. So there is no alternative for me, you understand? There is nowhere else for me to go, other than wherever you are. I mean that, amor… more than allegiance to any country or creed. Let me declare myself, then, a citizen of You, municipality of a country called Us, of which we two are the sole happy inhabitants.”

Hamal watches him place the ring onto his finger with what can only be described as sincere adoration, the words filling his thoughts like honey.

“I didn’t have a speech prepared,” he says softly. He gives Zevran his ring and kisses it, which suits Zevran just fine.

“Creators! But I cannot fucking wait to marry you, Zevran! Can we do it right now? Quick! Where is the nearest clergy?”

It is lovely to be understood so thoroughly. Zevran could laugh, or kiss him again, or ravish him right then and there. In the absence of a revered mother, and thus forced to wait, he opts for all three.

#rinnywrites #dragon age #dao #zevran arainai #zevran x warden #mahariel #oc: hamal mahariel #valentine's day piece :-)#i wrote this during the week and had a rough day so i decided to try and edit it after work #polished it up but it still feels like it's missing something; feels like two fics instead of one #but one thing i will always do is highlight like um community and the support ppl show each other and um #sappiness #this also feels like it's bridging 'four little crows off to meet the maker' with 'picture our wedding itd be summer sour and summer sweet'#and i'm gonna try to do less one-shots and more actual writing of qdt lmao or i'll never finish #ok now i sleep zzz zzzz zzz

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thebiggestfuckgiven · 6 months

Text

Ectoberweek 25: Will-o’-Wisps

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of death, of being buried alive, descriptions of gore, brief mention of vivisection, true crime-esque horror, and general spooky vibes

A/N: I really wanted to do a lil something for the spooky month and what better to write than something for the fandom i’ve been sickeningly hyperfixated on for the past four months. Actual prompt had a two-sentence prompt as well, and i went with both <3

- 💜 -

October 2004

The things everybody tells you about small towns- everyone knows each other, ni things big happens, every day is a slow day, and the biggest local teen hotspots are the walmart parking lot or the big chain pharmacy/corner store —are true. The thing that everyone knows about small towns except for the majority of the people living in said town is that their minds are as small as the local post office.

This is especially true of the teens of Casper High in Amity Park, Illinois.

Sam’s black combat boots stomped against the warm pavement as she ran for the next block. Her breathing was ragged, coming out in harsh puffs of air in the autumn cold. She had gotten an SOS text message from Tucker seconds before the last bell rung.

Normally, she didn’t take the Foley kid very serious. They didn’t know each other that well and they barely hung out save for the couple of school projects they’ve worked on together and those rare lunch hour occasions where he’d sit at her table uninvited. Usually to avoid Dash, Kwan and the rest of their jock entourage.

She stumbled to a stop at a crossroads borderline wheezing. Running was so not her forte. Maybe it was cruel of her, but Same fully intended to ignore his SOS. That is, until she saw Tweedledumb (Dash) and Tweedledumber (Kwan) shove a screaming Tucker into their run-down jeep and speed off.

Hence, why Same was ruining her sickly goth pallor by chasing after them.

She glanced to her left just in time to see the run-down jeep screech to a halt. Christ, the stabbing in her sides was killing her. Sue her for walking. The jeep wasn’t going anywhere anymore. She stumbled a few steps, feet burning, as she held a hand to her sides like that would help her.

Dash jumped out from the passenger side, Kwan following shortly after, from the driver’s side. They opened the back doors on each side, where Tucker was. They cornered him. Dash reached in and was soon pulling Tucker out by his feet. Sam could hear his scream now.

“C’mon, guys, please just leave me alone! Let me go, Dash!”

The Wonder Jocks laughed in response. Kwan slammed his door shut, confident that Dash had Tucker handled now that he was out of the car. Kwan rushed to the sidewalk to roughly grab Tucker’s free arm.

“Guys, this isn’t funny!”

Sam was halfway down the street now and she dreaded the idea of having to run again to keep those two muscle-headed idiots from beating the crap out of the geek that for some reason imprinted on her. Ugh, caring for people was overrated anyways. She could still walk away. Save herself the hassle. No one care about her in this stupid town anyways. So, why should she care?

She slowed to a stop. Her feet ached.

Dash and Kwan were dragging Tucker towards the street corner, which just confused Sam, amidst her inner turmoil. Why even drag Tucker all the way out to his own neighborhood? His house was literally a street away, and there wasn’t even a bare-bones playground here. So what—

“No, no! Don’t put me in there, Dash, Kwan, please! Just let me go, guys, it’s not funny!”

Sam felt a sharp chill run down her spine. Something heavy dropped in the pit of her stomach at the sudden realization of where, exactly, they were.

“Shit.”

She broke off into a sprint as fast as she could.

Shithsitshitshit.

Another thing about small towns is that they all have a well-kept secret. A dark past, usually. Sam found that she thrives on such darkness; on those unwanted and discarded things. As it turned out, Amity Park had a surprising amount of those. She made it her personal business to grow intimate with her town’s buried gutter.

The things she learned were both shocking and, for all her boasting, a little horrifying. Things that would be permanently burned into her retinas. Unseeable and unforgettable. So, she scolded herself for not realizing sooner where they were dragging Tucker to. She would’ve run a little faster, cared a little more, if she had.

She zoomed past the jeep and turned the corner so sharply she nearly fell flat on her face.

Tucker wasn’t screaming anymore, but there were tears streaming down his face as he stared in terror at the behemoth of a house towering over them.

In all its abandoned, festering glory: the infamous Fenton House. Even in bright daylight, the house was obscured in awkward elongated shadows, made worse by the house’s freaky, Frankenstein-esque structure. As if imitating a child’s building blocks tower, there were partial structures jutting out of the house’s main body. They creaked in the cold wind, threatening to snap off and crush any trespassers. At the very top, there was a round dome of sorts with something resembling letters across it. They were black with rot now. Unreadable.

Sam wasn’t a fearful person, but she was a believer. The Fenton House was more than haunted. She’s read enough testimonies to not take it lightly. People have gone missing in that house. Hell, they’ve been found dead in there. She may not be friendly with Tucker, but that didn’t mean she was about to leave him to a tragic fate.

Body running on a sudden burst of adrenaline, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find (a sizable stick) and marched towards the two jocks.

“Hey!”

All three of the boys turned to look at her. She stood two steps below them, resolutely ignoring the way the house seemed to want to swallow them whole. Tucker’s terrified face shifted into one of pure relief. A new wave of tears was visibly threatening to spill over.

“Sam,” he croaked.

Dash barked out a laugh.

“Samantha Manson? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hey, wanna help us lock this dweeb in the Fenton House?” Kwan smiled brightly, pointing at Tucker.

Sam scowled. People always confused her apathy for cruelty. She hated it.

“It’s Sam, and like hell I do. Drop the nerd, assholes, or else,” she said, pitching her voice lower in an attempt to sound intimidating.

Maybe she should’ve spent her time running thinking up a plan instead of hating on Tucker for making her run in the first place. She clutched the stick in her hand tightly.

Kwan scoffed.

“No way. I just said we’re gonna lock him in the house.”

“Yeah! We wanna know what happens when you put a techno dweeb with murder ghosts,” Dash said, smiling cruelly at a Tucker.

“He short-circuits. It’s not impressive. Let him go.”

Dash must’ve realized, finally, that Sam was being serious. He narrowed his eyes at her, the stick in her hand, and smiled.

“Or what? You’re gonna hit us with the creep stick? Ha. Last I checked, Sam, girls don’t have the balls to pull that off, so why don’t you get lost and forget you were ever here,” Dash said before adding to Kwan, “And Paulina says I’m not a gentleman.”

It was Sam’s turn to smile. She went up a step as she spoke.

“Like any girl would let you get that close, Dash. Besides, I promise mine are bigger than yours. Here, I’ll prove it.”

Before he even had time to blink, Sam jabbed the stick hard into Dash’s crotch. A gentlemanly oof broke past his lips and he let go of Tucker’s arm to clutch at his wounded pride.

“Augh, bitch.”

Kwan also let go of Tucker to check on his friend. Sam didn’t waste a second and grabbed Tucker’s hand.

“Run.”

They bolted down the stairs, Tucker nearly slamming into her from the sudden force.

“Sam, I didn’t think— I mean— shit, thank you. I thought- Ah!”

“Shit. Let me go, jackass!”

They had barely cleared the Fenton House’s shadow when a large, thick arm slammed into Sam and Tucker’s bellies as Kwan— just Kwan —grabbed them by the waist and lifted them up.

Note-to-self: never piss off a linebacker.

Sam knew Dahs and Kwan were big for their age, being football players and all, but jesus fuck this was insane.

She kicked and punched for her freedom, but either rage was a hell of a pain nullifier or her punches were child’s play.

Crap, and she dropped the stick when he grabbed them. Just her luck.

“You better let us go right now, Kwan!”

“Or what?”

He was effortlessly taking them up the stairs and— oh that’s the door.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, they— they can’t actually lock us in. There’s no key. We-we can just leave,” Tucker whispered, panicked.

“You don’t know much about the Fenton House, do you?”

Sam’s voice was small. She felt small.

They were about to be locked in a horror house.

Dash opened the door. Sam didn’t even see him get there.

“Sayonara, losers. Have fun in the Fenton House.”

The world tilted and blurred for a split second, Sam’s stomach lurching at the weightless sensation, before she and Tucker landed hard on the linoleum floor. Pain shot up her elbow and hip. Beside her, Tucker groaned.

“If you even make it the whole night! Ha!”

Bam!

Tucker scrambled up at once, but as soon as his hand touched the doorknob a sound like a lock sliding into place echoed throughout the empty house.

“Wha…”

Sam waited with bated breath. Then—

A low droning sound buzzed across the floor, seeping through Sam’s hands in an odd pins-and-needles sensation. Red emergency lights flickers throughout the house, bathing everything in muddy crimson, and the droning sound was replaced by the most horrifying screech of twenty-year-old rusted metal scraping against itself.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Thick sheets of metal began dropping over every conceivable entry. Including the windows and, of course, the door. Sam pulled Tucker back by the collar of his shirt just in time to keep his hand attached.

Tucker yelped, clutching his hand close.

“What the fuck—”

Warbled, distorted speech boomed from somewhere in the house, the voice and the words long ruined by time. It was like someone was trying to speak underwater. The message was only a few seconds long, but it was disgustingly haunting. Sam knew exactly what it said.

Ghost attack imminent. Fenton Security measure Christmas Ham activated.

If she remembered correctly, the measure lasted six hours. But the last time it was activated (that anyone knows of) was five years ago. Who knew how much the technology had deteriorated at this point. They could be here for a whole day.

Sam broke from her thoughts to glance at a hyperventilating Tucker. She couldn’t blame him. The Fenton House was creepy enough on the outside. Inside? With flickering red lights? Sam was making an active effort not to throw up from the fear writhing in her intestines.

The shadows kept moving in the corner of her eyes, she swore she kept seeing a green glow (but she couldn’t tell where from), and it was freezing cold. Colder than it was outside, which should be impossible, but it was the Fenton House. Impossible was inconsequential.

Sam shuddered. They had to find a way out.

“Tucker—”

“Sam- ohmygodSam- this is- I mean what the fuck was that? We’re literally trapped here. In a tomb with linoleum floors. Shit, and you’re trapped, too, cuz of me. I shouldn’t have sent you that text. Fuck it I shouldn’t have flunked Dash’s essay. Now we’re gonna die here and—”

“Tucker!”

Sam grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. Their eyes met, both wide with incessant panic.

“Calm down,” she spoke slowly. Tucker gulped and nodded shakily.

“Okay, okay, yeah.”

“Breathe. You’re good with computers and stuff, right?”

Tucker scoffed, but more in a self-deprecative way rather than an offended one.

“Sure am. It’s what gets me in trouble, isn’t it?”

Sam shook him again.

“Forget that. We need good with computers. The Fentons were notorious for their unorthodox advancements in technology. Supposedly had patents on really futuristic shit. Most of it buried, obviously. But they were good enough that their security system still activates nearly twenty years after their departure.”

Ridiculously good, she thought bitterly.

There was a moment of weighted silence as they looked around the house. The lights, the rusted yet intact panels over the windows. It was eerily quiet. She stepped a bit closer to Tucker, who thankfully didn’t say anything about it.

“Yeah, alright, okay,” he muttered to himself before clearing his throat. “The-there should be, uh, a circuit breaker somewhere. We could cut off the power—”

“Won’t work,” Sam stated, eyes furtively glancing around them. She had the weirdest sensation they were being watched. “The town cut the power away from the Fenton House ages ago. It runs on some kind of external power source, but nobody knows what.”

Sam kinda hoped they didn’t get to find out.

“Shit. Man, what the fuck. Who the fuck were these people?”

Sam let out a manic sort of laugh. The hysteria was boiling up in her like toxic chemicals.

“Do you want the short answer or the long one?”

“I have a feeling we’re gonna be here a while. Long answer?”

A pause.

“We should find a way out.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them moved an inch. They stood in the middle of the living room. A trashed one at that. Although, looking closely from where they were, the whole house looked trashed. Wasn’t the place SWATted?

She spotted a flash of green in the hallway, right there in the corner of her eye, and snapped her head towards it with a small gasp. There was nothing there.

“Hey,” Tucker said softly. “Let’s check out the windows for loose panels or something and you can tell me about the Fentons’ own loose panels.”

Her mouth went dry, but she nodded.

“Sounds good, yeah. So, uh, what do you know about the Fentons?”

Tucker shrugged and went towards the first window, by the door. Sam followed closely by. He didn’t mention it.

“What everyone else knows. Mad scientists who went so crazy after their son’s disappearance that they tried to summon him from the afterlife. They got so obsessed that they never left the house and just, died here, waiting for their son to come back. Pretty sad.”

That window was a bust. So was the next, as well as the door. They ventured into the hallway. There were a few square and rectangle imprints on the walls, but only one hanging frame left. With a picture. Hands shaking, Sam reached up and snagged the picture from where it was, careful not to cut herself on what was left of the glass.

It was a family picture. A wall of a man stood at the back with a practiced, dashing smile. To his left and a little below him was a woman with short, bright red hair. They were both in brightly colored hazmat suits, goggles hanging around their necks.

In front of them were two teens. A girl with bright red hair as well, but styled much longer. Next to her was a boy, younger and slightly shorter than her, with black hair. They were all smiling wide and bright, except for the boy. His was more hesitant, not quite reaching his eyes.

Sam pointed at the young girl.

“Did you know the Fentons had a daughter, too?”

Tucker’s eyebrows went up slightly.

“No… Something tells me I won’t like why.”

“You won’t. Um, kitchen?”

Sam saw another green flash and was anxious to get away from it. They bee-lined to the kitchen, and Tucker checked the windows there.

“So… There’s a few things you got right. The Fentons—” Sam pointed at the two adults in the picture “—were renowned scientists. They did some impressive breakthroughs. Like the kind they still teach in universities, but with a disclaimer attached. The more they went into their work, though, the more obsessed they got…” she trailed off in a whisper, tensing.

The house was creaking.

Tucker stopped in his tracks, too, eyes wide but lips pressed tightly together.

Nothing happened. The house stopped creaking.

Tucker let out a slow breath, eyeing the cabinets.

“Think there’s anything edible left around?”

She glared at him sharply.

“If you open any fridge or cabinet doors, I’m leaving you here alone. This place is bad enough, we don’t need to add rats or rotted food to the list.”

Tucker pouted but conceded.

“Fine, I’ll just starve. Keep telling me about the creepy doctors and their stupid creepy house while we check upstairs.”

Sam sighed in temporary relief. She didn’t think she could handle seeing a fridge full of maggots. Even if it has been almost twenty years.

They continued up the stairs, carefully, and Sam went on with the Fenton tragedy.

“The Fentons started growing obsessed with other dimensions. Specifically… the afterlife, and its inhabitants.”

“Like… ghosts?”

Sam nodded.

“Exactly like. They became convinced they could create a doorway into the afterlife, at the cost of their reputation. They got ostracized by the academic community once they started referring to themselves as ‘ecto-scientists’.”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t. Bunch’a wackos,” Tucker muttered as they ventured into an organized room with cool colors. Light blue walls, light green bed sheets coated in blankets of dust, so the only reason Sam knew they were light green was because she’s seen pictures of what the room looked like twenty years ago. She ignored the uneven pattern of small dark spots on the wall.

It was the girl’s room. Jasmine Fenton’s.

Tucker went straight for the window, but Sam hung back near the entrance.

“They didn’t actually open a doorway, right?”

His voice broker her out of her thoughts. She blinked.

“Hm? Oh, uh, allegedly, yeah.”

This house probably sat on an open portal. There probably was an infestation of something murderous in it. Sam shook the thought away. She’ll drive herself crazy worrying about that.

“Supposedly,” she continued. “The doorway was one of their patents. They had the science backing it up and everything. But they… There were rumors, around the time the supposedly opened the doorway, that there was an accident in the house involving their youngest. Daniel Fenton.”

Tucker frowned at the blocked window. A bust. They made their way to the next room. A queen bed bare of any bedsheets, and a large chest of drawers with an equally large mirror attached to it. The Fentons’ room. It had an extra window.

“What happened to Daniel?”

Sam shuddered, goosebumps breaking out across her arms. The room got colder, so much colder than it had been. A soft crackling sound broke out, like frost taking over with a vengeance. She opened her mouth to speak but her breath got stuck in her throat.

She closed her mouth. Breathe. Another flash of green, this one brighter than the others. Breathe. It was so cold, her teeth started chattering.

“T-t-t-tucker—”

“Y-ye-yeah, I’m-m ignoring it,” he said simply, tugging at the panels.

Fuck, how can he ignore this. Sam was so uncomfortable, consumed by such a sudden unease, she wanted to claw off her skin. She tried to ignore it anyways.

“Daniel— jesus I’m freezing —he was out of school a couple of days after neighbors heard a scream. That same night, the power went out in the whole town, except for the Fenton House.”

The freezing cold seeped away, leaving behind a frost pattern that didn’t melt on the mirror despite the warming room. Sam blew out a breath, sending out a silent thanks.

She frowned, unsure why she did that.

“A lot of people theorize,” she went in, rubbing the remaining cold in her fingertips away. “That one of two things happened that night. One, a backfired experiment drove the Fentons all the way crazy to the point that they started experimenting on both their kids, thinking they were ghosts.”

“Wait, both of—”

“Two, Daniel died because of said backfired experiment and his parents somehow managed to either bring him or his ghost back.”

None of the windows opened. They started for the next room.

“That’s… actually insane. And what do you mean, both their kids?” Tucker stopped for a moment, meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Did something happen to their daughter, too?”

Sam pressed her lips into a thin line. That’s the part rarely anyone knew about the Fenton horrors. Daniel wasn’t their only kid. He certainly wasn’t their only victim.

“I’ll get there,” she replied instead, looking away. “It only gets worse.”

“Christ,” he muttered.

They walked onwards.

“A couple of weeks after that, Daniel disappeared. But in those weeks, the Fentons became obsessive, borderline manic, with ghosts. Their nature, their morality. How to trap them, contain them… kill them.”

They were nearing then end of the hallway, where the last room was.

Tucker shuddered, sporting his own goosebumps.

“I don’t like the way you said that.”

Sam grimaced, sticking close to him once more.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. What’s worse, the Fentons called off the search party after just one night. They claimed they didn’t want false hope, they just wanted to lay their son to rest. They buried an empty casket, and Daniel hadn’t even been missing three full days.”

Her voice was hollow.

“Shit. They…”

“Killed their own son because they were convinced he was a ghost? Most likely,” she said bitterly. As far as true crime went, Amity Park’s dark secret was the worst she’s ever read.

Neither said a word. For one long minute, intentionally or not, they remained quiet, mulling over the terror a kid must feel when they realize their own parents saw them as something to be killed. And to think, they were standing in the house where it happened. Where two parents killed their son. Allegedly.

And their daughter…

As if reading her mind, Tucker quietly asked, “What about the girl? It gets worse doesn’t it?”

Sam swallowed, her mouth dry and throat sore.

“They—” she sighed. “After their son ‘becoming a ghost’, they got paranoid. Extremely so. If one of their kids was a ghost… They couldn’t stand the idea of having an imposter in their own home. There were reports of screams two nights after the funeral. Like, really awful screaming that went on for nearly an hour, I think. Authorities broke into the house after multiple calls to find the Fentons in the basement and their daughter on a table just… cut open. She died before the paramedics could get to her.”

Again, neither said another word. Sam wished she’d run faster. Hit Dash harder. This house was tainted in blood and betrayal.

Tucker clutched at his chest and Sam realized his breathing was short and sparse. Crap.

“Tucker—”

“I fucking,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “Hate that we’re here. We’re trapped in like they were, but they— Fuck, they were kids. Their kids. Who does that.”

“Tucker, breathe,” Sam insisted lowly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded, but only got a few gasps of air.

“I’ve been t-trying to hold it together but I just can’t— what if we can’t find a way out. What if we die here.”

“We’re not gonna die here,” she stated fiercely despite being unsure of it herself. “If the windows are a no go then we’ll just find a way to deactivate the security system, okay? We’ll be fine.”

Tucker nodded again, quiet.

It took another few minutes until he finally got his breathing under control. Sam squeezed his arm comfortingly, giving him a small smile. They’ll make it.

He returned the smile without a word and turned to the last room. They had windows to check.

She suspected it was Daniel’s room. It was the only one they hadn’t seen yet. Tucker tried to turn the knob but it didn’t budge. She frowned. Weird… thinking about it, all the other rooms had been wide open.

“Rusted?”

Tucker shook his head, shaking off another involuntary shudder. Sam suppressed her own. It was getting colder again. Tucker tried again to open it. No dice. The knob wasn’t budging. He let go of it, hissing through his teeth as he rubbed his hands together.

“The metal is freezing. It, uh, must be something with the heating.”

Sam gave it a try and immediately drew her hand back. Freezing was an understatement. A second longer and she would’ve gotten the world’s worst case of freezer burn.

“Tucker, I don’t think we’re allowed to go in this room,” she whispered, hugging herself to keep warm.

He gave her a look like she was crazy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That’s Daniel Fenton’s room. All the other rooms were open but this one—”

“—is locked.”

“No. Look at the handle. There’s literal frost on it. There was frost on the mirror in the other room, too. I think—”

“If you say ghost.”

Sam glared at him.

“After everything I told you. Scratch that, haven’t you been feeling all the weird stuff in this house? The creaking, the frankly extreme cold spots, the fucking creepy green light!”

Tucker’s eyes went wide at that, mouth dropping open.

“I-I didn’t think you could see them. But that— that doesn’t mean—”

The house gave a violent creak, causing the floor to rumble threateningly. The temperature dropped drastically, covering the entire hallway in a light frost.

Sam’s teeth immediately started chattering from the cold.

“This is too much,” Tucker whispers, that underlying panic settling back in.

Impossibly, finally finally finally, they both saw the green flash at the other end of the hallway, flickering desperately before disappearing.

“Tuck,” Sam let out, mesmerized, overtaken by the overwhelming urge to follow that light. An itch she had to scratch, to claw at until it broke open. “He’s here.”

She didn’t know how she knew that, but she’s never spoken truer words. This she knew with absolute certainty.

“Sam.”

He was struggling not to fall for the light, but he couldn’t ignore this forever. Sam thought he’d be an idiot to do so.

She moved forward without another word. Shortly, she heard Tucker follow after.

When they reached the stairs, another flash of light burst to life at the landing, flickering that desperate staccato.

They continued to quietly follow the light wherever it appeared. It led them down the hallway of missing picture frames. Sam clutched the picture in her pocket. They reached a closed door. It was colder in this area, but the door knob was warm. It opened easily to reveal stairs to a basement showered in white fluorescent lights.

They went down the stairs with no hesitation, following that green light that was growing more and more desperate with each step they took. At the bottom, they were greeted by an empty expanse of white floor.

There were various metal tables, but all devoid of any machines or materials that one would expect in a lab. Because no doubt that’s what this basement was. There were discarded cords and metal scraps scattered across the room. But most notably, there was a large, round arch-like structure at the center of the furthermost wall. It was huge, its top scraping the basement ceiling. It had an indent, with two metal panels that interlocked in the center. As if it were a… door.

“Sam… is that—”

“Tucker, look.”

The little flash of green stopped by a blue button on the wall. It flickered swiftly, faster than any of the other times before it went out entirely.

They stayed there, standing, for a moment.

“Are we… are we about to find a dead kid’s twenty-year-old decayed corpse?”

Sam nodded shakily, not believing it either.

“I think so.”

They still didn’t move. God, it was so cold. She couldn’t feel her fingertips.

“What if something happens to us?”

“The thought crossed my mind.”

Two dead people found in the house during its abandonment. Three missing.

“And?”

She looked back at him, a soft smile edging its way onto her face.

“He deserves to rest. Doesn’t he?”

Tucker glanced between the blue button and the closed, arch-like door. Determination set into his features. He nodded.

They went towards the button. Tucker settled his hand over it first, Sam placing her hand over his. Their eyes met.

“This had to have been the world’s worst nap.”

Sam snorted and pressed his hand onto the button. The technology down here must be in better conditions because the effect was instantaneous. Concrete scraped against concrete as a rectangular hole opened up in the center of the lab.

From where they were, they could see it. A homemade metal casket that weirdly resembled more of an iron maiden. They found him. Daniel Fenton. He could finally, truly rest.

That’s when the pounding began.

Sam and Tucker turned to each other in horror. She felt a visceral tug in her gut she nearly threw up then and there. Instead she ran to the metal casket, dropping to the ground halfway there so she slid across the floor. The pounding grew louder, and it was definitely coming from inside. Tucker was frozen stuck by the button.

It only gets worse.

A faint sound, behind all the pounding. Sam leaned closer, listening. Her stomach dropped. Her head snapped towards Tucker, eyes a desperate frenzy.

“He’s crying. He- He’s still- o-oh my g- Tucker, help me get him out!”

This broke him out of his horrified stupor and he kneeled on the ground next to her. His hands were shaking.

“What do we do? What do we do?”

“Fuck, idunnoidunno- uh, grab, shit, shit, go to the other side. Maybe we can lift the lid.”

Stumbling, trembling, Tucker did as he was told and crawled to the other side. But he saw what was on the lid. Fuck.

“There’s a lick. Sam, it’s locked.”

She looked back up at him on the verge of tears.

“What! No, no it can’t be- it—”

“Just, hold on. I’m gonna go back upstairs. Maybe there’s something we can use. I’ll be back, I promise.”

She got the feeling he wasn’t really talking to her. The pounding quieted down but there was a muffled sound. A strained whimper.

“Shit,” Tucker whispered before running out and up the stairs.

Sam sniffled and laid a hand in on the biting cold metal of the casket.

“We’re gonna get you out,” she whispered, wiping at the tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. “I don’t really understand how this is even possible, but we’re not gonna leave you here.”

There wasn’t a response. Not a whimper or a knock. She was gripped by the fear that maybe they were too late. Twenty years buried and they were five minutes too late.

Tucker came stomping down the stairs, taking two at a time. She looked up to see he had an honest-to-god metal bat in his hands. Fully intact and not rusted at all. His hat was askew and his eyes seemed wild.

“He- he helped me find it. Nearly ran all over the house,” he said, panting heavily.

“Hurry up and break it,” she begged, not bothering to disguise the desperation in her voice.

Without another word, Tucker aimed the thicker end of the bat downwards and plunged it against the lock.

It broke apart with a resound clang.

“Help me with—”

But Sam was already crossing to where he was. Kneeling, side by side, they gripped the edges of the casket and lifted. A cloud of freezing cold air puffed up, obscuring their vision for a few seconds. They couldn’t see if they really did save a boy’s life, or if it was just his corpse playing tricks on them. But they heard heavy breathing coming from rattling lungs and not from either of them.

They’d both been holding their breaths.

The cloud dispersed. In front of them lay a young boy with matted white hair, brilliant green eyes drowning in tears and a grotesque muzzle caked from within with old and fresh blood. Metal clinked against metal. His wrists were chained to the casket. His knees scraped and bloodied from banging on the lid.

Tucker immediately removed the muzzle, which thankfully wasn’t locked. Sam’s heart broke. Shattered. The boy’s cheeks were caked, blanketed, with that same mixture of blood, his lips horribly scarred.

He sobbed, screwing his eyes shut against the bright lights.

“Thank you,” he rasped. His voice scraped against his throat.

Tucker and Sam held his hand. They cried with him.

“You’re safe with us.”

He always would be.

#ectoberweek2023 #day 25 #danny phantom #shit’s insane #i wrote this in one night #yes instead of sleeping #it ran away from me so quick #i wrote like a beast POSSESSED #when i tell you this story had me in a choke hold #there’s a lot of fenton lore for this one in my head in true crime format #i think said format really adds to the horreur~ of it all #things that didnt make it into the story: sam’s witchiness #she’s studying to be a green witch #tucker is the classic nerd #can you tell i tried to stick to the early 2000s vibes? pls tell me you can #alsoalso can you spot the teensy super tiny monster high reference #i couldnt help myself #badass Sam Manson #i love her #posted a little late but hope that’s okay #sorry for any grammar errors im pretty tired dkdj #tucker foley #he just wants a friend pls #i genuinely like how their personalities came out in this one #will o' the wisp #buried alive #infinite constant: the trio will always find each other

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