#I know I sleep in the dirt all the time and there's bugs out there but there's something about an indoor cockroach I don't like

[moteldogs]

just saw 2 roaches in this hotel room. great time to be sleeping on the floor

[tokkishouse]

(Sfw) The first time you call him a term of endearment

Characters: Aether, Ayato, Cyno, Gorou, Heizou, Kaeya

Warnings: Fem. leaning nickname in Ayato's (princess), Cyno is implied to be taller than reader, reader is ticklish in Heizou's, mention of alcohol in Kaeya's

WC: 1.4k words total

Pt. 1, Pt. 3

"Aether honey, fetch me my watering pail!" You call out to him, currently hunched over the seeds you had just planted in the soil. You both were doing some tending to the garden you had just recently started in your teapot, and you had just finished the planting process.

You hear the loud crashing and clunking of metal behind you, and you whip your head around to see Aether standing there, hands at his side and gaze focused on you.

"Are you okay?!" You ask, hurriedly rising to your feet to check on him.

"'Honey'...you called me 'honey,'" he breathes out, watching you. You blink once, twice, and then nod.

"I did, yes," you confirm.

His cheeks turn pink and he looks away, pulling his scarf up a bit in an attempt to hide his face. He clears his throat and bends down to grab the watering pail.

"I-I'll just go ahead and get this filled up with water for you," he mumbles and rushes off before you can say anything.

You and Ayato were walking around Inazuma City, soldiers trailing behind to watch over you two. You wanted to see what the merchants were selling, and perhaps say hi to a few old friends.

A jewel in a nearby stand catches your eye, and you drag Ayato over quickly.

"Darling, look! Wouldn't this ruby be beautiful in a necklace?" You coo, leaning down to get a closer look at it.

He falters a bit before he responds, almost taken by surprise by the pet name. Almost. He recovers quickly and responds with his own term of endearment.

"If it pleases my princess, you can have every jewel the owner is selling."

His voice is smooth and the nickname rolls off his tongue flawlessly, sending goosebumps down your back. You look back, eyes bright with excitement while your face is flushed with embarrassment. He gives you a polite smile, as if unaware of the effect of his words on you, and turns to the merchant to make the purchase.

The moon was high, shining through the night sky and down on Sumeru City. The activity was slowed and most everyone inside their homes, save for a few that clung to the shadows, hopeful to take advantage of unsuspecting passerbys. Word spread quickly that the General Mahamatra had returned home though, and those looking to cause trouble quickly dispersed.

"Y/N, I'm back," Cyno announces as he walks inside your home.

He sets aside his polearm and takes off his headpiece, setting it aside on a nearby table. You walk out of the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket and clutching a hot mug of tea in your hand. You smile and step closer to your partner.

"Welcome back Cyno. I trust you served justice well?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

He nods and leans forward, resting his head on your shoulder. You feel the weight of his work melt off upon touch and almost fall over due to him putting all his weight on you.

"Alright love, let's get you to bed," you gently chide, setting aside your mug.

He hums-- in delight you deduce, based on the high-range sound, but makes no move to pull away.

"That's new. Instead of cuddling a bed bug, it seems you'll cuddle a lovebug?"

You groan loudly and shove him off of you gently.

"Nevermind, sleep on the couch!"

You and Gorou were helping the soldiers on Watatsumi Island move the crates of supplies around. You'd been at it since sunrise and the fatigue was starting to eat at you. You drop a crate on the ground with an unceremonious thud and groan, rubbing your back. Gorou's ears pick this up and he instantly turns to you, also grabbing the attention of his fellow soldiers.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

He was easy to read-- his tail sways back and forth, kicking up the dirt and anxiety was clearly filling his body. Had he pushed you too hard? You weren't a member of the Kokomi's platoons so technically this wasn't your responsibility-- you had just offered. You wave him off, flashing him a tired smile.

" 's nothing baby. I just need to rest. I'll catch up, yeah?" You explain, slowly sitting down next to one of the crates.

Gorou's tail straightens out instantly, and he's frozen in his spot. His ears are erect and his eyes widen as red spreads across his face. The soldiers are quick to pick up on their general's embarrassment and they start teasing him. You watch on in amusement but say nothing, leaving your partner to defend himself.

"Heiiiizooooou," you whine loudly as you lay on the couch.

He said that he wouldn't take too long on analyzing some reports for a case he was working on, promising to give you attention shortly. A promise that was made about 45 minutes ago. He always got sucked into his work and while usually, you were fine with that, you were feeling extra clingy today.

"Yesssss Y/N?" He matches your tone, poking his head out from his office. You huff.

"You promised you wouldn't take long. Surely your case can wait an hour or two!" He tsks at you disappointedly, shaking his head.

"Patience is a virtue, Y/N. You have to learn how to exhibit it! You wouldn't want me to let this criminal escape, would you? Imagine all the harm they could cause to Inazuma, or to you! My sweet darling lover!" Heizou mock faints, pressing a hand on his head for dramatic effect, earning an eye roll from you.

"Are you saying you wouldn't be able to take them? Getting weak are we babe?" You gripe, crossing your arms.

He stops in his place and looks at you properly, green eyes blinking owlishly.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" You ask, bringing a hand up to your cheek. He shakes his head, face cracking into a grin.

"I'm your babe, am I?" He teases, slithering over. "Am I your honey bunny too? Your baby? Your sweet love bug and apple of my eye?" With each sickeningly sweet nickname he lists off, he applies more pressure on your body as he tickles you.

You squeal in surprise, kicking your legs in an attempt to get him away. Laughter fills the room and your pleas for him to stop are ignored in favor of hitting all your ticklish spots. In all the excitement, you fail to notice the shine in Heizou's eyes and the tips of his ears turning red.

You and Kaeya had decided to stop by Angel's Share for a drink and to harass Diluc while he worked. The bartender was as curt as ever to him, not letting the calvary captain's teasings get to him. He was always cordial with you though-- never giving you a hard time. He only ever seemed to express disappointment with you when asking about what you saw in his brother.

"I'm still confused about how he managed to secure you as a partner," Diluc questions, giving Kaeya an unimpressed glance.

Kaeya faux gasps quietly, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Diluc dearest, you wound me. I'll have you know that I am a delight and it was my shining personality that won Y/N," he announces matter-of-factly.

You giggle into your cup as the two of them break into a small argument over Kaeya's character. It was nothing serious-- anyone with eyes could tell neither brother was taking the argument seriously. When their gaze turned to you, you pop an eyebrow up.

"Y/N, do tell Diluc just how lovely I am!" He begs, playing up the theatrics.

You swirl your mug a bit, watching the amber liquid slosh around.

"He's my snowdrop, Diluc. He's quite special to me, and you wouldn't know it but he secretly is a big sweetie and-"

Before you can finish, Kaeya's hand is slapped over your mouth. You and Diluc both look over at the man who is now stumbling over his words, cheeks turning dark. He was not prepared to be gifted a nickname so soon, especially in front of his brother.

"I-I think he gets the idea, Y/N," he coughs into his other hand, slowly letting the one covering your mouth drop.

Diluc flashes him a teasing smile.

"I think I do, snowdrop."

@seirenspinel & @xylerray Per your requests❤️

If you want me to do other characters, you can ask!

Requests are open~!

[opiopal]

random mc stuff that I dont want to be their own post so HERE WE GO.(a lot if not most of theses are cracked out lmao)

imagine an Mc who noticed certain dirty things in the HOL and REALLY wanted to something about it but couldn't cause they were still a stranger. so once all the pacts are made Mc immediately goes around the HOL and attacks all the spots that bug them.. and isn't afraid to vocalize their complaints. "lucifer, when was the last time you guys washed these curtains?? you know what, don't answer that, I can already tell that the last time these were washed I hadn't even been born yet." "who is in charge of sweeping?? there is so much dirt under these rugs!! common guys, seriously???" "Mammon, Levi, twins.. I love you guys SO much.. this is commmon knowledge at this point... but cleaning your pillow cases is NOT enough you NEED to also wash the pillow itself. you guys are gross. gather up your pillows we're doing a soak." "beel. come here and lift me up. I'm dusting the chandelier." "Lucifer, I do not CARE if you're working right now your shelves are littered with dust. either ignore me or go take a break because I'm not leaving."

once during breakfast the brothers could hear cerberus growling and grumbling in the basement, it was annoying but they were trying to ignore it until they realized Mc wasn't at the table.... which of course once it was pointed out they all rushed to the basement.. only to find cerberus laying on its back and Mc sitting above it and quickly rubbing and scratching under each heads chins while going "good boys!!!! good puppy!!!!" and cerberus very happily whining and grumbling with their tail thumping on the ground. when they manage to get Mc away from the silly, the only explanation mc gives it "there is a massive three headed dog that lives in the basement and is feared by 6 out of the 7 men who live here, how could I NOT pet them??? clearly no one but lucifer does!!"

imagine an Mc who is a selective mute, and normally communicates through ASL and notes. the first time they talk is after knowing the brothers for a GOOD amount of time, and its not a sweet wholesome moment no no. Mc comes home with Lucifer after they finished running errands, and the HOL had been: flooded by levi summoning lotan, the living room had been torn up by satan, the kitchen was in pieces because beel got hangry, asmo had joined in on the chaos after his bedroom got damaged as well, mammon was struggling to keep everyone together, and belphie was sleeping on a chandelier. of couse it dies down the moment they all see lucifer and mc got home, and before lucifer could say anything Mc threw their ars up and went "guys what the FUCK we've hardly been gone for an hour!!" of course all the chaos is forgotten for a second and replaced by multiple "YOUCANTALK?!"s, which then shock and amazement turned to shame as they realize the first time they were graced by Mc's voice was because they were being idiots and Mc was upset at them.

imagine an Mc who isn't really used to people caring all that much about them, and finds it very odd that the brothers+other characters care so much. so once their birthday comes around its turned into a birthday WEEK because Mc is being gifted things and being taken out everyday until their actual birthday, which BAFFLES them, so when their birthday comes its a huge event, Dia hosts the party at his castle, there are so many presents you'd think it would be for a family of 18 on christmas day. and when Mc is sat infront of their cake they can't help but suddenly start crying, while everyone is panicking the only thing Mc can say is "I-*hic*- love you guys so much!!" once they realized it was happy tears there was much less panic, and it was forgotten about for the rest of the evening.

You guys remember my post about pacts marks and Mc feeling a demons sin really strongly after making a pact with them??? well this relates to that. imagine if mc feels something strongly that sin kind of takes over for a while until mc is satisfied (asmo enjoyers do what you want with that info), so imagine: theres just a day were Mc doesn't get the chance to eat, first they slept in and just had to rush to RAD, then they had to skip lunch because they agreed to help a few clubs with advertising and projects, then they had to stay after for a student council meeting, then, just as they think they can maybe grab a snack they get held up again, by the time everyone is going home all the brothers can sense Mc's aggression, half way to the HOL lucifer says that they should just go eat at hells kitchen. so they're all seated, and the second Mc's food gets out they dont even bother with utensils, they just grab their food with their bare hands and eat like they're a starved dog. of course the brothers are concerned as to why they're acting like this, and mammon reaches to put a hand on Mc's shoulder as he says "hey- are you ok-" but he cant even finish talking before Mc jerks their head and nearly takes a few of his fingers off, though they dont bite him cause he moves away fast enough with a "EEP" and Mc's teeth loudly click together. so from then on the brothers make sure that Mc is able to eat something throughout the day if their schedule is packed to reduce the risk of losing fingers. honorable mention is Mc getting praised to much one day that the amount of pride they feel almost puts lucifer into a coma.(satan and belphie sometimes praise Mc a bunch to distract lucifer while he's working, another cheeky win for the anti lucifer league)

imagine an Mc who gets so over protective of the brothers, like CRAZY protective. there is a point were they hear someone talking SHIT about their found family trope, so ofc the reasonable reaction is to tackle the demon down to the ground and almost bite their ear off like some sort of rabid raccoon. another time Mc squares up with some sort of magical mythical beast in protection of the brothers, almost won and would have if the brothers didn't stop them.

imagine an Mc who is very introverted and is secretly a fanfic writer, so one day levi and Mc are hanging out, he's just rambling about whatever, until he eventually mentions that a fic he was reading hasn't gotten updated in a while and ist just so frustrating to him. when Mc asks which fic he was reading, he pull it up and shows them... which Mc realizes thats THEIR fic... and outloud without thinking they mumble "oohh I forgot about that one..." and levi freaks out and immediately is questioning what they mean by that. which they eventually have to admit it.

Imagine a little kid Mc, I mean like, LITTLE, as in like 7-8 yr. and they are just such a sweeite, and they work so hard. but I can also imagine that when they're first sent there and the introductions are happening, when lucifer introduces himself Mc immediately interupts and goes "lucifer?? like the cat from Cinderella?:0" and then ofc when mammon is assigned to take care of the child he is a lot nicer at first, I wouldn't be surprised if having Mc around reminded him of his younger siblings when they were that small,(yes I am a believer of the brothers being at least little kids at some point in their angel lives) but then eventually gets Mc to go along with a few schemes, which they both have fun cause really it just turns into bonding. then ofc asmo adores this little creature and has little dress up parties and helps Mc get ready for school in the morning so they always look their best!! lucifer gave him permission for this since he agrees that Mc should look put together despite being a child. I still think it takes a while for the brothers to warm up fully to Mc, but it goes by a lot faster since mc quickly becomes their new little sibling. I think it would be cute if what won over lucifer is Mc coming into his office at some point, saying that they have something for him, and gives him a drawing, lucifer ends up scooping them up to sit with him and they explain what they drew, and its mc and all the brothers:( that drawing is almost immediately framed and put up where everyone can see it.

thats all for now, but I have a LOT of Mc what if's and imagines, my fingers hurt from typing now lol.

[stevie-petey]

episode six: the spy

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows.  “Shit…” “You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.” Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 

Summary: dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.

Rating: general, violence and swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence and swearing, blood mention and ptsd mention, weapons, fire, probably more

Words: 17.1k (i fear how much longer these next few chapters become)

Before you swing in: its here !!! god, this chapter was ROUGH. the conversations between bug and steve took many rewrites and editing. i wanted to get it just right, and finally i think im satisfied with where they landed. bug and steve aside, i absolutely loved writing this chapter with the kids. i sincerely hope you guys enjoy, this chapter took blood, sweat, n tears lmao

-

You’re the first to break the silence as you all stare at the hole Dart created in the wall in shock.

An obnoxiously loud yawn escapes your lips, and Dustin and Steve shoot you simultaneous weird glances. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry… It’s been a long day.”

Steve huffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Dustin clears his throat before standing up. He wipes off some dirt that got on his jeans and then offers you his hand so that he can pull you up as well. You accept it and stand, your bones a deep, weary type of heavy that only comes from pure exhaustion. 

“Okay,” Dustin begins, and you can already see a plan forming in his mind. “Steve, you’ll spend the night here so that way we can all get up bright and early to start our search for Dart.” 

Steve attempts to argue, but Dustin puts his hand up to shush him and continues with his speech. The older boy throws his hands up in the air and gives you a look of disbelief over your brother’s antics. You stifle a laugh, which he only rolls his eyes at. Steve, whether he likes it or not, will have to get used to Dustin’s… Dustin-ness.

“If he escaped through the tunnel, then we have to assume that there’s an opening somewhere above ground.” Dustin finishes. 

You nod your head slowly, still unconvinced. “Okay, but how do we find him? Better yet, what happens when we do? It took Nancy with a shotgun, my knives, Steve’s batting skills, a ton of fire, and almost dying a bunch of times to take down the Demogorgon.” 

Dustin lets out a tired sigh. “I’ll figure it all out, alright? For now, let’s just get some sleep. Maybe it’ll come to me in a dream or something.” 

“A dream? Seriously?” Steve looks at the two of you as if you guys will start laughing and tell him it’s all a giant joke. Unfortunately, it isn’t. 

Steve spent all last year and most of the summer getting to know you. He’s used to your quips and soft spoken teasing, but Dustin? He’s uncharted territory and you’re secretly relishing in seeing Steve fumble around him. You’ve never had anyone else interact with your brother before, only Jonathan, so this change is odd, but welcomed. 

Dustin pays no attention to you and Steve as he begins heading up the steps, back to your home. Once he disappears, you nudge your shoulder against Steve’s. “You know you don’t actually have to spend the night, right?”

“Ya know, I can’t quite tell if the kid will let me leave or not.”

You laugh. “He’s harmless… Mostly. I promise I won’t let him bite, but I also understand if you want to leave.”

Steve looks away, sensing the undertones of what you’re saying. You’re giving him another out, one last chance to leave and go back to pretending like everything's okay. You wouldn’t blame him, and you get a sense of deja-vu from that night at Jonathan’s. When you tried coaxing Steve to leave, to spare himself from everything he inevitably ended up suffering from. 

After a minute or so, Steve shakes his head. “I’ll stay. You need my help.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say need–”

“Shut up and let me help you, Y/N.”

You sigh. There’s no arguing with him, he’s made up his mind and your truce that you shook on ten minutes ago burns your hand. He’s staying. 

“A ‘please’ would’ve sufficed, but fine.” You link your arm around Steve’s and make your way up the cellar steps. “C’mon, Dustin is probably waiting for us with some new insane plan for where you’ll sleep.”

– 

You know that your mom is safe, off at the other side of town, searching for your dead cat, but it’s still lonely walking into your empty home. Dustin is standing in the living room waiting, but you can see that it makes him uneasy as well. 

Steve follows behind you and takes a look around. When he spots the lumpy, old, sagging couch in front of the window, he frowns. It’s barely bigger than he is, his feet would definitely hang over the edge. “This my bed for tonight?”

“It’ll have to be, unless you want to come snuggle with me in my bed.” Dustin says. 

“I wouldn’t, he kicks in his sleep,” you tell Steve, attempting to make light of the situation. 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he snorts. Then, as if he’s done this a million times before, Steve flings himself onto your couch and his feet do indeed hang over the edge. “Oh, yeah. This will definitely be cozy.”

You wince. “I’m sorry, you’re still free to go home. I completely understand and–”

“Unless…” Dustin begins to brighten up and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Pure horror washes over you; you know that look on his face. He’s scheming. 

“Dustin, whatever is about to come out of your mouth–”

“Y/N has this giant bean bag in her room. Practically takes up the whole space, and, luckily for you, my new friend, it’s Steve-sized.”

Steve whips his head to face you, a curious look on his face. “You don’t say, Little Henderson?”

Both boys look at you, a matching glint of evil in their eyes, and you realize you’re trapped. When did they manage to sync up to make you miserable?

You weigh your options against your morals. On one hand, it’s your room and you and Steve are still warming back up to each other. However, on the other hand, Jonathan has spent countless nights on that bean bag himself. 

Dustin’s right. Steve would fit perfectly. 

Damn him. 

You shuffle your feet, averting Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I guess you’d fit.” 

“You guess? Steve, she’s had Jonathan sleep on that thing like a bajillion times.” Dustin waves his arms out, gleeful that he’s won. “In fact, I think our mom specifically bought it just for him.”

He now steps closer to Steve and eyes him up and down. “I’d bet money that you two are about the same size, so as I stated earlier: it’s Steve-sized.”

“I’m actually taller than him, so…” Steve mumbles to no one in particular, but quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. “And I’d finally be able to see Y/N Henderson’s room? Count me in.”

You blush furiously. He’s getting a kick out of all of this and he’s such a little shit, honestly. You’re not sure why the thought of having Steve Harrington in your room, eager to be in your room, makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks burn painfully. 

Steve sees your blush and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“You’re far too pleased about all of this.”

“We can pretend to be back at Bookstrordinary. I’ll even stack some books that you definitely have in your room.”

Dustin stands between you and Steve, his face alight with joy and curiosity. “Can I please know when you two became best friends?”

“No, you hid Dart from me.”

“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Steve clears his throat, clearly amused by your banter with Dustin but still unsure about everything going on. “So… What do ya say, Y/N?”

You bite your lip and look at him. He’s pathetically too large for the couch, it wouldn’t be fair to just force him to sleep there because of the weird way he makes you feel as if you’re floating yet falling all at the same time. 

Exhaling, you give in. “Fine, but do not touch any of my books in the room.”

“Yes!” Steve high fives Dustin and you roll your eyes at them both. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It’s late, can we please just go to bed now?”

Dustin sends you a wink, which thankfully Steve doesn’t see. “Sure, sis. Have a good night.”

And with that, probably because he senses you’re about to throw a shoe at him, Dustin flees the living room and runs to his room. As soon as he’s gone, Steve bats his eyelashes at you and playfully teases, “Take me to bed, Y/N.”

You snort, despite how exhausted you are. “Never say those words to me again.”

He laughs and stands up, following behind you as you guide him towards your own room. A part of you feels like you should give him a house tour, but logistically it’d be useless. You can’t imagine that Steve would be over at your house again once the Dart situation is handled. 

You have to remind yourself that there are still roses for Nancy, currently wilting, in the backseat of Steve’s car. 

They’ll work things out eventually, or maybe they won’t, but Nancy Wheeler still has Steve Harrington’s heart. He is her’s entirely. 

Lost in thought, you almost miss the turn to your room and have to grab the back of Steve’s jacket and yank him towards your bedroom door. 

“Hey–” 

“Sorry, my room is here.” 

“You Hendersons are just a delightful bunch, ya know that?” 

“Be thankful you don’t have to meet our mother, honestly.” You fling your bedroom door open and gently push Steve inside. 

As soon as he’s in your room, you watch as he takes it all in. His eyes scan every corner of the room, and you hold your breath as you wait for them to land on the Spider-Man poster he gave you for Christmas last year. 

When Steve sees it, he smiles shyly at you. “I see you kept the gift.”

“Duh,” you walk over to your bed and sit down. “Still one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given.”

“One of?” He asks, tone light but curious. 

Unconsciously, your fingers go to your bee necklace from Jonathan. You play with the pendant and smile softly. “Sorry, Jonathan kinda beat you to it.”

“I figured,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable. “I noticed the necklace the day I gave you the poster. Didn’t want to, uh, assume. I guess. But the necklace was from him?”

“It was,” you clear your throat, talking about Jonathan with Steve has always been such a foreign feeling for you. 

Steve seems to be thinking the same thing and starts to wander around your room instead. You silently thank whatever god is up there for giving you the motivation to clean your room earlier that week. Normally you’re a neat person, but ever since Will started showing signs of post-traumatic stress, you’ve spent more time obsessively researching rather than tidying up.

Therefore, there’s still books strewn across your desk alongside some comics. Steve sees a Spidey one and holds it up with a laugh. “He’s everywhere.”

“He is.” You say proudly, now getting up to go into your closet to pull out the blankets and pillows usually reserved for Jonathan.

Steve wanders around some more as you dig through your closet. He lingers in front of your dresser, which holds photos of you, Dustin, and Jonathan. 

“Here,” you hand the bedding to Steve and motion to where the bean bag is. 

He looks up from a photo of you and Jonathan from last year. It’s your favorite of the two of you, he stands behind you in the picture with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. You’re both smiling widely at the camera, the moment captured by Will because he wanted to try out the camera Jonathan had gotten that summer. 

“You guys are really close, huh?” Steve asks.

You nod, although confused by his question. He spent half the summer with you and Jonathan at your job. You had conversations about your friendship together, but you suppose it’s different seeing the excess of love you have for the boy within your room. Jonathan is everywhere, if you look hard enough, you’ll find him. 

Steve pauses for a second, as if he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and turns towards the bean bag. He arranges the pillows so that they’re flush against the wall facing your bed, which you think is an odd choice, but say nothing. Once he’s arranged the pillows and blankets, Steve turns to you and clears his throat. 

“I hate to ask this, I really do, but I also don’t want to sleep in these jeans,” he waves his hands over his pants, which have always been a bit tighter than you thought was necessary. “Any chance I could wear something of Jonathan’s?”

You think for a moment and dig through your dresser. “I’m not sure, but if I can’t find anything of his then I think my old camp t-shirt can fit. As for pants, won’t your boxers work fine?”

Steve’s face turns red and he clears his throat once more, speaking in a slightly squeaky voice, “Y–yeah, I guess so.”

He’s stumbling over his words, which makes you pause. There’s no possible way that he’s nervous right now. He’s usually so confident and comfortable around you. Hell, last summer he offered to be your first kiss (by kissing his fingers and pressing them against your lips, but still). 

“Are you shy right now, Steve?”

“What? No!” He scrambles to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between the two of you as he can. 

You raise your eyebrows at him, but your cheeks are flushed as well. “Okay then, whatever you say.” 

It’s painfully quiet after that as you continue looking for something for Steve to wear. You swear that Jonathan has left behind some of his things, and right before you lose hope, you spot a pair of gray sweats and an old The Clash t-shirt of his. 

“Here,” you toss the clothes to Steve without even checking if he’s looking. You hear a crash and know that he, in fact, had not been looking. 

“Gee, thanks.” He says sarcastically, but you giggle. 

“No problem,” you begin to gather your own pajamas before pointing towards your door. “There’s a bathroom to the left, down the hall. You can change there.” 

“Then our sleepover can commence?”

You wave him off, but you smile anyway at his question. You missed his boyish charms. “Sure, buddy. Go change.”

Steve salutes you and then leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him. You change while he’s gone and tie your hair up. After a few minutes, you assume Steve has had enough time to change and make your way over to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’re so excited to go to bed. 

However, the door is closed when you approach, meaning Steve is still changing. You knock on the door, “Are you almost done in there?”

“I’m having… problems.” 

Your hand hovers over the door, mid knock. “Problems?”

There’s only silence for a moment, almost as if Steve is contemplating elaborating. Finally, after several seconds, he says “I’m definitely taller than Byers.” 

You roll your eyes and begin knocking again, just to annoy Steve, until he finally swings the door open. Before you can even stop it, a loud laugh escapes you. The sweats are at least five inches too short on him, while Jonathan’s shirt is a size too small. He looks absolutely ridiculous. 

“It’s not funny!” Steve whines, his face once again red. “I thought you gave me Jonathan’s clothes, Y/N!” 

More laughter escapes you, making your ribs begin to hurt. Every time you try to speak, you laugh even harder, and it’s impossible for you to get any words out. Steve watches, not amused in the slightest, and crosses his arms as if to appear more dignified. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, more laughs threatening to spill from you. “I guess they’re clothes from when he was fourteen.”

“I’m reconsidering our truce from earlier.” 

This gets you to stop laughing, and you gasp and smack Steve’s chest. “You wouldn’t dare!”

He sighs, hanging his head low. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Exactly,” his admission makes you giddy. “Now, either make yourself cozy in the bean bag or watch as I brush my teeth. Your choice.”

Steve shrugs and steps to the side so that there’s room for you to enter the bathroom. It’s a tight fit, but he ends up sitting on the edge of the tub and just watches as you begin the process of brushing your teeth. “I didn’t actually think you’d stay, ya know.”

“I know, but I’m bored and you’re here.”

You spit into the sink. “Fair, I guess.”

“Plus,” he picks at his nails, trying to look disinterested while wearing Jonathan’s too small clothes. “We still need to have that talk.”

You pause, toothbrush hanging from your lips as you stare at Steve, wide eyed, in the mirror. Honestly, you were hoping he would’ve forgotten about that. It’s not that you don’t want to know whatever he has to tell you, but you’re tired and still reeling over the fact that he’s spending the entire night in your room. 

“Oh, right.” Turning the faucet off, you finish brushing your teeth and awkwardly wipe your face. Steve watches quietly, and once you’re done, you motion for him to follow you back towards your room. 

As soon as you’re back in your room, Steve immediately curls himself upon the bean bag and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin. Dustin, as always, is right: the bean bag truly is Steve-sized. “Cozy.”

You laugh at him as you crawl into your own bed. “Yeah, I’d hope so. Jonathan has slept in it for years now.”

“Well, uh. Speaking of Jonathan…” Steve sits up a bit so that he can properly look at you. “I wanted to talk. Ya know… About you and him. Nancy, too.”

He pauses, furrows his brows, and then adds. “Actually, I want to talk about what really happened this summer. Everything. I want to know everything.”

“Everything is a lot,” you dodge, turning away from the boy. 

Steve sighs. “Y/N… I missed you.”

Missed.

“I want to be friends again, be how we were before, but… I don’t know. There was a lot unsaid between us. Even from the start. I mean, I understand. I do.” His eyes never leave yours, despite how much you try not to look back at him. “You’re, well–If we’re going to be friends again, I want to start from the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

Now Steve is the one who looks away. “I don’t know, it’s stupid, I guess–”

“It’s not stupid, Steve.” You reassure him. He’s trying, he’s inviting you in after everything you did to him, and it’s all you could’ve asked for. 

But you’re fucking terrified. 

You and Steve became close before, sure, but it was something more surface level. An act between the two of you. While Steve was able to read you over time, learning and asking and paying attention to you, there was still so much you never let him in on. What you haven’t let anyone in on, besides Jonathan. 

If you start from the beginning with Steve, someone you know has come to view you as this selfless and kind person, you’re scared that it’ll change the way he sees you. 

But Steve is looking at you from the bean bag, looking ridiculously cozy with the blanket wrapped around him and his usually carefully curated hair has fallen in his eyes; his gaze is open and trusting. There isn’t a pressure behind it, he would understand if you backed down, but you promised him you’d try. 

To try is to be human.

And you really, really missed Steve. 

“I moved here when I was twelve. My family and I had moved all the way from Virginia after the divorce. I remember being really mean, back then. An angry kid with all this hurt within her that she perpetually displaced upon everyone else.” 

“Angry?” Steve asks, his voice soft. 

You shift uncomfortably in bed, but you remind yourself that you agreed to this. If you’re going to begin again with Steve, then he deserves to know the true person he’s befriending. “Angry. I didn’t take the divorce well. At all. I acted out a lot, closed myself off, and was just a fucking awful person.”

Shifting again, you take a deep breath. “My anger got to the point where Dustin, who was nine, had to practically plead with me to be nicer to him. He was a kid.”

“So were you,” Steve gently chimes in, but you roll your eyes at him. 

“Being a kid didn’t give me an excuse to abandon my loved ones like I did. Like my father did. It wasn’t until Dustin called me out on my bullshit that I realized the irony of the situation. There I was, blaming everyone else for my own problems and running away, because I was so hurt by my father doing the same to me.”

Steve clenches his jaw, and you know he wants to say more, but you watch as he exhales deeply and decides against it. “Okay, so you were mean and then you became kind again after something traumatic… So what?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean,” the boy sighs. “I was a dick for like, ten consecutive years. It took losing a fight to Jonathan, embarrassing myself in front of Nancy at least five times, losing my bullshit ‘friends’ Tommy and Carol, and some blonde guy with a fucking mullet before I was even able to become a decent person.” 

You frown. “What’s your point?” 

“My point is that you came back.” Steve shrugs. “The second someone you loved asked you to, you came back to being the selfless angel that you are. Which, by the way, is an impressive feat in itself.” 

He says this as if it’s obvious and that the months you spent hurting everyone around you can be redeemed. As if you haven’t spent every waking hour tirelessly devoting every piece of yourself to those around you to make up for them. To repent for your anger. 

Steve takes your silence as more defiance, and he runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s merely a few feet from you, at the foot of your bed on the bean bag, and yet it feels as if he’s inches yet yards away. “I know I can’t change your mind, but… I think that’s what matters the most in the end, ya know? You became kind.” 

“So did you,” you finally say, not quite ready to accept what he’s saying. 

Now it’s Steve who looks away. “Still working on the whole ‘kind’ thing.”

“Isn’t that what matters in the end?” You tease, feeling yourself warm with pride when you get him to laugh. 

“Touche.” 

Silence falls over the two of you, letting the tension lazily slip away for now. Your body hums with energy; the only other person you’ve told about your father to is Jonathan. You both have long since bonded over shitty father figures. However, even when you had whispered these truths to Jonathan back when you were thirteen, you don’t remember feeling quite so raw and vulnerable as you do right now with Steve. 

“I meant it, you know,” you catch Steve’s eye. “Back when you first drove me home last year. You’re alright. Not too shabby, honestly.”

This time a full body laugh cascades through the boy, He clutches at his stomach as he doubles over, breathless with joy. “Thanks, Y/N.” 

Steve is still laughing and this is the happiest you think you’ve seen him in months. The realization makes all the warmth you’ve felt earlier, vanish. You remember the hurt on his face earlier this week on Halloween, the tears in his eyes when he confessed that Nancy didn’t love him. 

You know how plagued Steve is about never being good enough, and for the first time since you’ve truly gotten to know him: you understand him in that very moment. 

Your eye catches on Steve’s adam’s apple as he swallows. It’s a tragedy, really, how attractive he is. You suppose it’s what caused his downfall, in the end. A pretty boy, rich and popular yet easily able to be taken down; it must be a lonely life with all that vulnerability.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper, voice cutting through the darkness of your room as Steve seems to remember where he is, why and how the conversation started in the first place. 

“Always,”

“I’m scared of the compulsive need I feel to take care of everyone. It’s like… I don’t know, this debt that I feel I owe for existing, for the fear I feel because of my father leaving. I overcompensate for this fear now, terrified I’ll become mean again.”

Steve stares at your ceiling. “The whole ‘debt’ thing, I understand. Believe me. Rather than being a perfect angel, however, I just try my fucking hardest not to disappoint everyone around me and make them leave.”

Nancy, as she always seems to do, lingers between you and Steve now; you both can feel her presence without him having to say her name. He told you what she did to him, you tried to reassure him that it hadn’t been his fault, but Steve isn’t an idiot. 

Nancy never loved him. He knows this, now. 

You don’t say anything, you don’t think he’d want you to. Giving him some time, you allow Steve a few minutes to collect his thoughts, sensing he has more to say. Then, softly, he whispers back to you, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always,” you echo. 

“I just want to be loved.” 

With just one confession, a string of six words in succession, Steve Harrington crushes you. 

The words come crashing upon your chest and you wish you could tell him how easily you see yourself falling for him. How, even if you can’t admit it just yet, you’re already falling for him. You think you have been for some time now. 

Somewhere, in between him driving you home last year and the way the summer sun kissed his face months later, you began to fall in love with him. 

While you’re thinking this, Steve is laying in the bean bag, absolutely terrified of the words that have come out of his mouth. He’s always had the fear, deep down, that he was unlovable, but to admit the fear out loud… He’s never felt so weak before.

You’re silent and Steve thinks he’s finally done it. His pathetic need to be liked and loved by everyone around him has finally scared you away. How couldn’t it scare you away? You so naturally are loved by everyone while Steve compulsively demands it because he’s still that scared ten year old boy with a father who never showed him love. 

Then, because you’re an angel, you give Steve the response he hadn’t even known he needed to hear. “It’s natural to want to be loved. We all do. It’s human.”

He exhales at your words, still staring at the ceiling as if to somehow lessen the impact of what you’re telling him. There’s something there, hanging in the air after your words have disappeared, that Steve can’t quite understand. 

It almost sounded like you were trying to reassure yourself, as well.

“What’s the deal with you and Jonathan?” Though Steve’s voice is steady, you can tell that he’s trying not to sound too interested. 

The question is a simple one, but it’s the hardest question you’ve ever had to answer. Everyone asks you, sooner or later, if you and Jonathan are together. You never blame them for asking, because ultimately the two of you are  closer than the average friends, regardless of gender. 

It doesn’t make the question any less painful to answer, though. It doesn’t make hearing Jonathan’s laugh cut any less deeper.

As for Steve, he’s asked this question before, albeit with teasing and disbelief whenever you’ve told him there’s nothing there. Despite the numerous times you’ve corrected him, he’s never quite believed you.

This time, it feels different. There’s a weight behind Steve’s question, and your silence is all the answer that he needs. “You love him.”

The words aren’t a question, and they harbor no malice. He says them as if they are a fact; you suppose that it is. You don’t say anything, but you do nod your head at him. “I do… I think I’ve always loved him, honestly.”

You’ve never, ever said those words out loud. Not to anyone.

And now, you’re confessing them to Steve, who doesn’t have to ask you why your voice now holds melancholy within it. He knows, he’s always somehow known. Jonathan doesn’t love you, a fact in which Steve has never been able to wrap his head around. He’s watched the two of you for years, how easily you love one another, and yet somehow the love never blossomed into something more. 

Everything stills between you and Steve, allowing both your confessions to surround the two of you. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s apology only causes you to shrug. “He’s still mine, at least for now. Is that so bad?”

“I mean, I guess not, but… Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

“God,” you squeeze your eyes shut, finally able to voice all you’ve been feeling to someone who can understand. “It feels like this crushing weight upon me every time I see him smile, like it’s a burden, carrying all this love within me without being able to express it freely. I just… I never thought that love could be so exhausting. ”

As the words start to come out, you find that you’re unable to stop. “I grew up with Jonathan, I learned the way he breathes and the way his hands feel pressed against my skin, but so much has changed and…” Your breath hitches. “He’s not someone I reach out to first anymore. It almost feels like I can’t. I love him, I do, but I also miss how it used to be before I realized everything.”

The pressure of tears builds behind your eyes and forces you to stop talking. If you say anything else, you’re afraid you’ll start crying. While Steve has been so lovely tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to console you so pathetically. 

Steve seems to hear the tears lacing your voice and speaks for you, having finally pieced together everything he’s been unable to articulate since November of last year. “With Nance, it feels like I’m always somehow two steps behind her and her feelings. Constantly playing catch up while the rules keep changing on me… I get the whole ‘love is exhausting’ thing.”

Though you know Steve means well, his words fucking terrify you. If he feels the same way towards Nancy, a girl who never ended up loving him despite how much he poured his heart out for her, what does that mean for you and Jonathan?

For the first time, you question if the exhaustion you feel surrounding your love for the boy is really something else. Something different, disguised as exhaustion. 

You wonder, deep down, if you’ve started to fall out of love with Jonathan.

Who are you if you have?

The boy has become so intertwined within your life, the threads and strings and lines have tied you to him indefinitely. He’s the reason behind your everything. If you no longer love Jonathan, then who are you, really?

The realization washes over you like cold rain in the middle of winter. It spills over you and pricks at your skin and you suddenly want the conversation to end. While you’re so relieved to be talking to Steve again, the conversation has left you with more realizations than resolutions. 

“It’s late,” you fake a yawn, desperate to cut the conversation short. “We should go to bed. Knowing Dustin, he’ll have us up at the crack of dawn to start looking for Dart.”

Steve sees right through you, he knows he’s somehow crossed a line and that you’re once again retreating. You’re closing yourself off from him again, but he’ll take whatever he can get from you. You’ve told him more than he ever thought you would, so for now he’ll play along. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says, watching as you reach for your lamp and turn the light off. Then, as soon as you’ve rolled over and closed your eyes, you faintly hear his final words. “Don’t we make a pathetic pair?” 

You remember, before drifting off to sleep, feeling relief wash over you that Steve once again considers the two of you a pair.

– 

You wake up the next morning to the faint sounds of Dustin getting ready. His shower can be heard from your room, and through the years it's become your morning alarm. Yawning, you roll over and rub your eyes and take a few minutes to let your brain wake up. 

Bits of yesterday’s events come back to you. 

Dustin confessing about Dart. 

Locking the Demodog in your cellar. 

Radioing everyone in the party for help and getting no response. 

Going to the Wheelers for Mike and coming back with Steve. 

Dart going missing. 

And, most importantly, your bizarre conversation with Steve last night. 

The boy in question lets out a loud snore from the bean bag, blankets haphazardly twisted around his legs, and you stifle a laugh. Even in his sleep, Steve Harrington somehow catches all the attention in the room.  

You throw your blanket off and get out of bed, tiptoeing so as to not wake up the sleeping beauty, and head outside to your kitchen. If yesterday was any indication of how long today will be, then you need all the coffee in the world to get through it. 

The coffee has just finished brewing when you hear Steve stumble into the kitchen. His eyes are bleary and his hair is the worst it’s ever looked. “I guess even Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington can’t escape bed head, huh?”

Steve acknowledges your quip only by grunting, still stumbling around through your home. So he isn’t a morning person, you think with a smile while bringing your coffee mug to your lips and taking a careful sip. 

Eventually Steve makes it to your kitchen table and plops down, letting out a loud yawn and smacking his lips. He looks pathetically endearing, really, especially given his outfit that looks even worse after sleeping in it. The shirt has ridden further up, exposing a bit of his stomach (which you divert your gaze from, feeling yourself blush), and one of his too-short pant legs has ridden up to his knee. 

“You really are a natural beauty in the morning, Steve.” 

“Ha,” he says boredly, looking around the kitchen. “Do you guys have any food? I’m starving.” 

You toss him an apple from the fruit basket on the counter, and Steve only just manages to catch it in time to avoid it hitting his face.

“Christ!” He exclaims, glaring at you when you chuckle at his reaction. Maybe it was a little mean, but you see the small smile he tries to hide. 

“Is this all I get? An apple thrown at my face?”

You walk over to the table and set your mug down. “Were you expecting a home cooked meal?” 

“You’ll have to earn a Y/N Henderson breakfast,” Dustin says as he enters the kitchen and joins the two of you. His hair is still wet from his shower and he drips onto the counter, which makes you cringe. He’s such a boy, sometimes. 

He makes his way over to the fridge and rustles around, looking for something to eat. Truthfully, the reason you threw the apple at Steve is because there’s no food in your house at the moment. Your mom normally goes to the grocery store on Saturdays, and in her frantic rush to find Mews she hadn't left any money for you to go to the store. 

“There’s no food,” you inform your brother. 

He sighs dejectedly, grabbing a banana and then plopping himself next to Steve at the table. “All right, are you two awake enough to discuss the plan?” 

You nod immediately at Dustin’s question while Steve slumps further into his seat, groaning. You run a hand through his hair to try and settle down his theatrics. Dustin sees this and raises an eyebrow at you, but you shake your head and motion for him to keep quiet. 

“So,” he takes a bite from his banana and begins speaking with his mouth full, which you make a face at. “I was thinking we lure Dart with bait to a secure area that we can catch him in.” 

“Wait,” Steve sits up a bit in his seat, careful to not knock your hand off his head. “That’s all you got? That’s the entire plan?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” he begins eating as well, his mouth also full and disgusting to look at, “Do you know how we’ll lure him? Or where? Better yet, how will we even catch him?” 

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Okay, so it’s a working idea. You got anything better?”

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He pauses for a second before seemingly drawing a blank and closing his mouth; he sinks back into his seat in defeat.

“That’s what I thought.” Dustin says smugly.

You take another sip of coffee, enjoying the mug’s warmth around your fingers. “Well, we at least know what Dart likes to eat.”

“We do?” Steve questions, looking up at you.

“Oh, just wait until you hear this,” you motion over to Dustin. “Go on, tell Steve what you’ve been feeding Dart.”

Now it’s your brother’s turn to sink into his seat, embarrassed. He mumbles something that Steve can’t quite hear.

“What?”

He mumbles again, only a tiny bit louder this time.

“Little Henderson, I can’t understand you.” Steve says, smirking when he feels you laugh against him. 

“I said he eats Musketeers Bars!” Dustin shouts, now incredibly defensive. 

In sync, you and Steve share a look. While you have an exasperated fondness on your face, Steve looks like he’s questioning every choice he’s made in his life. It’s cute that he thinks this is the weirdest things will get.

“Okay…” Steve looks over at your brother. “Unless you plan on buying out an entire candy store, we need something else for bait.”

In the corner of your eye you see Mews’ cat bed laying against the window, and an idea pops into your head. “Dustin, did Dart only eat the candy bars before he killed our cat?”

“Yeah, why?” 

As you walk over to the kitchen sink to place your mug in it, you begin explaining. “Then clearly he’s outgrown his sugar needs and would probably eat just about anything with flesh on it.”

Steve wrinkles his face with displeasure, not enjoying the thought of going after this monster that craves meat. He’s already done that, and call him crazy, but he really doesn’t want to experience anything like that ever again. 

Dustin’s eyes light up, following along with what you’re saying. “Raw meat! You’re a genius, Y/N!” 

“And then we can follow the train tracks to that old junkyard, the one that El brought you guys to last year. It’s a straight shot, Dart won’t get lost, and then we catch him.”

Dustin squeals. “That’s perfect!”

He stands up to hug you, which you gladly accept. “Yeah, yeah. We Hendersons are known for our genius,” you gently push your brother away and start exiting the kitchen. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. Steve, you’ll take Dustin to the butcher and see if you can haggle some raw meat out of him.” 

“Uh… can I change first?” He asks, running a hand through his hair with displeasure. 

Only now does Dustin notice Steve’s appearance and he lets out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think you look great!”

You shoot your brother a warning look, not wanting to upset Steve too much. He’s the only one with a car, and the party still hasn’t responded to Dustin’s calls, so he’s all you have right now. Plus, after last night’s conversation, you’re sure he’s feeling just as wound up and tense as you are. 

“We can swing by your place on our way to the train tracks. Your house is right next to it, anyways, and Dustin and I can scout the parameters while you shower and get yourself all pretty. For now, just go to the butcher's shop, please.” 

“But–” 

“Please, Steve?” You pout, daring him to argue with you again. Steve is only able to stand his ground for about five seconds before he groans and nods his head.

“Fine–” You quickly hug him before running towards the bathroom to get ready. 

Once you’re gone, Steve searches for his keys while Dustin stands in the kitchen, shocked. “I so need to know when you two became such good pals.”

“Go wait by the car, Little Henderson.” Steve waves him off, though he’s secretly pleased with how the morning is turning out so far.

–

“C’mon, man. It’s just chunks of raw meat, it doesn’t even matter what, uh, body parts they are, I guess.” Steve argues with the butcher, having no idea why you’ve sent him on this journey with Dustin. Neither of them have any idea about butchers and meat, so they’ve been arguing back and forth for a solid ten minutes with the guy. 

“And I already told you, it’ll be $15. Take it or leave it, pretty boy.” Pat, the butcher, says. 

Steve scowles at the name, “That’s insane for five pounds, you realize that? It’s just a bunch of meat chunks from god knows where, it’s not like we want prime rib you dirty sack of–” 

Dustin cuts him off, snatching the boy’s wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a twenty. “Ignore him, please! Here, thank you so much for your lovely service, good sir.”

Pat narrows his eyes at the boy, and for a split second Dustin is afraid that he’s trying to figure out the best way to skin them alive, before he simply grunts and takes the money. 

Relief washes over Dustin and he scrambles to grab the bags of meat, tugging at Steve’s sleeve in urgence until he gives in and begins to help as well. Within a few seconds, they’ve gathered all they need and head towards the car. 

“Keep the change!” Dustin calls out behind him. 

As soon as they’re in the car, he yells at Steve to step on it. It’s already been twenty minutes since they left the house, and he knows from experience to never keep you waiting. 

“Okay, okay, god.” Steve complies, pushing down on the gas and speeding away from the butcher’s shop. 

The smell of raw meat immediately infiltrates the car, so Steve rolls down the windows and sighs. This is definitely not the weekend he had in mind. He thought he’d apologize to Nancy, kiss and hopefully make up, and maybe even swing by your place to tell you the good news. 

Instead, he has buckets of raw meat in his car and his head is swimming from his conversation with you from last night. While he’s happy it happened, there’s still so much Steve feels like you aren’t telling him. To top it all off, he hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed, but rather a bean bag that Jonathan apparently has slept in a million times before. 

As Steve is moping, he realizes that there actually wasn’t even a real need to spend the night. 

“Hey, Little Henderson,” Steve gently hits Dustin’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why did I have to spend the night at your place?” 

“Oh, you didn’t.” Dustin says as if it’s no big deal.

Steve turns his head towards him, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually spend the night if we’re being honest. I just thought it’d be funny to mess with you.” 

“I tried arguing with you, but you shushed me!” Steve exclaims, putting both hands back on the steering wheel aggressively. 

The younger boy shrugs, “What are you, seventeen? Eighteen? Why would you listen to a thirteen year old?” 

“Well, I–” As much as he wants to, Steve really can’t defend himself on this one. Shit. It’s not like he can tell Dustin that he mostly stayed because his sister is pretty and makes him feel safe.

Dustin smiles, happy to have won the conversation at hand, and decides to really rub it in as they pull up to the house. “I also thought it’d be hilarious to pair you up with my sister. Hope you two made smart choices last night.”

And with those words, Dustin springs out the car, leaving a speechless Steve behind. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, completely at a loss for words. He’s only spent a total of sixteen hours with the kid, and already he knows he’s in for a world more of trouble. 

If you’re Hawkins’ sweetheart, then Dustin is the town’s horribly terrifying weasel. 

Meanwhile, you’ve just finished lacing up your shoes when Dustin walks in.

“Where are the rubber gloves that mom likes?” He asks in lieu of greeting you. 

“In the closet, second shelf, next to her cat figurines. Where’s Steve?”

Dustin rustles around the closet and pulls out three sets of gloves, “In the car, moping.” 

There’s a crash and then he tosses two buckets onto the carpet. You crouch down and grab the buckets, placing them on the table. “Why is he moping?”

“Why is who moping?” The man in question walks in, throwing himself on the couch and narrowly dodging the third bucket that Dustin throws out. “Why do you guys keep throwing shit at me, jesus!” 

“Language! There’s kids around,” You snap your fingers at Steve, who quickly cowers in shame. “And if it makes any difference, the bucket wasn’t intentional. The rest were, though.” 

Just as Dustin is finishing up in the closet, you spot a can of gasoline and an idea sparks in your head. If you learned anything at Jonathan’s house last year, it’s that these Demogorgon things really hate fire. “Hey, grab the gasoline as well.”

He does as he’s told, no questions asked, and then hands it to you. You add it to the pile on the table, along with two backpacks from your brother and your beloved switchblade. 

Steve gets up from the couch to investigate your stash, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, guys. What are we going to put in the backpacks, though?” 

Dustin goes into the kitchen and begins grabbing the few items within it. The remaining fruits in the basket, a few pieces of bread, a bag of chips, and some water bottles. “One bag will have our food, the other will have our weapons.” 

And with that, you guys are all set to head out. While Dustin is distracted with grabbing his backpack, you run towards Steve’s car and throw yourself into the passenger seat. Every man for himself. 

“What– Y/N!” He calls after you, but he’s too late. You’ve already buckled yourself up by the time he and Steve get into the car themselves. 

“She beat ya, buddy.” Steve teases, flashing you a proud smile. 

Dustin grumbles in the backseat, unamused, and for a moment you think he’ll leave it at that. However, because he’s Dustin, you see from the rearview mirror as his eyes spark with revenge. “So, Steve.”

The tone in his voice terrifies you. 

You place your head in your hands and sigh, mentally preparing for whatever your brother is about to say. 

“Yes, Dustin?”

“How long have you been friendly with my sister?”

“Dustin!” You whip your head around, lunging towards the back seat to swat at the boy, but he quickly scoots over to Steve’s side and avoids your hands. 

Steve, however, surprises you by simply shrugging and taking the question in stride. There’s no embarrassment on his face, no ounce of hesitation in his voice. “About a year now.”

“A year?” Dustin exclaims, having completely not expected such a response. “Y/N, how could you keep this from me?”

“She didn’t hide anything from you, buddy.” Steve defends you, eyes focused on the road. “I convinced her to be my friend after I saved her life–”

“You saved her life?”

“And then bought you boys snacks at the hospital afterwards. Then, because I really wanted to be her friend, I basically stalked her at work every day and annoyed my way into her life. We’ve been pretty close ever since.”

Dustin’s jaw is practically on the ground after Steve’s quick explanation, left speechless for the first time in his life. As for you, you’re admiring the way the early morning sun causes Steve to glow. You’ll never be over how often his beauty distracts you; you wonder how Nancy, or really anyone, could deny him love.

If you didn’t know Steve, if you passed by him on the street one day as complete strangers, you’re sure that a part of you would fall in love with him. 

Even with pieces of his hair standing all over the place, his shirt still being too small, he was a delicate kind of handsome that made you feel a certain warmth.

“Did I forget anything, Y/N?” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, and you quickly divert your eyes away from the way his arms look while holding the steering wheel. 

“No, uh.” You clear your throat, still recovering. Steve seems to be in good spirits for once, it’s a breath of fresh air seeing him so content, and yet it also serves as a stark reminder that you made the right choice when you first distanced yourself from him. He’s just too easy to love. “I think you pretty much covered everything. Unless Dustin has any questions?”

“Give me three to five business days to process this, please.” Your brother mumbles from the backseat, which you and Steve laugh at. 

The rest of the ride is relatively peaceful after that, and a few minutes later you arrive at Steve’s house. It’s different in the daylight, only ever having seen it late one night driving the boy home from the Halloween party. 

It’s a beautiful home, the smell of chlorine fills your nose. The pool, you remember Nancy mentioning his pool when she explained what happened to Barb. You shiver, now aware that you’re in the same place that your friend took her last breaths at, just a year ago. 

“The tracks are just over on the other side of the street, and I shouldn’t be too long, so you Hendersons can start figuring out the plan in the meantime.” Steve instructs you and Dustin, getting out of the car and entering his house. 

Dustin begins getting out as well, so you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow. Thankfully you decided to wear jeans today with a simple tank top and cardigan with your knit socks; though it was late October, it’s unusually sunny outside and the walk from Steve’s to the junkyard was easily four to five miles. 

The two of you walk over to the tracks and you survey the area. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure it’s best to look focused in case Dustin yells at you. 

“We’ll need to go that way,” Dustin points in front of you, and you nod as you follow along. “We can drop the meat chunks every few sleepers so we don’t waste any of it.” 

“Sleepers?”

“These.” Dustin’s shoe scrapes against the bottom wooden planks. 

“You would know what they’re called.”

“Ha ha, any more quips or can I continue?”

You put your hands up in surrender and Dustin begins to speak again.

“Then once we get to the junkyard, we can dump whatever meat is left in a pile and put the gasoline on it. Once Dart is distracted and eating, we’ll light it on fire.” His words catch a bit at the end, and you suddenly feel bad for him. He clearly still cares about Dart, but you know your brother understands the risks of letting the Demodog live. 

Without saying anything, you reach over and pull Dustin in for a hug. He fights it at first, but after a couple seconds he gives in and hugs you back. You aren’t the most affectionate pair of siblings, but you love your younger brother fiercely. Not for the first time, you wish you could’ve done more to prevent him from discovering the Upside Down. 

You know it’s irrational to blame yourself and feel guilty, but maybe if you’d been more involved last year, then maybe he wouldn’t have so many nightmares. 

“I’m sorry about Dart,” you say softly against his hat. 

Dustin breaks away, shrugging his shoulders. “Gotta protect the party, right?”

“Right.” You flick his hat. “C’mon, let’s go back to the car and start putting the meat in the buckets.” 

True to his word, Steve is ready to go after about twenty minutes. He walks out of his house, freshly clean and put together, right as you and Dustin finish preparing the bait. He approaches from behind you, and you can smell his cologne. Memories from when he’d have his arms around you and you’d smell the familiar scent now wash over you. 

Clearing your throat, you turn to hand him gloves and a bucket, but almost drop it when you see him. 

He looks good. Like, frustratingly good. His hair is back in its usual style, but he’s wearing a dark blue polo and a gray jacket that fits him criminally well. You almost feel underdressed standing next to him with your ratty old cardigan, which you know is ridiculous to be concerned about. Plus, you’ve always known that Steve was attractive, so it’s stupid to be affected by it suddenly now. 

You guys had one emotional conversation. 

“Y/N?” 

Steve’s staring at you quizzically, and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and hand him the bucket full of bait and instruct him to put the gloves on. He listens, dutifully putting them on and placing the bucket on the ground and starts searching for one of the backpacks in the trunk. He’s seemingly in a much better mood now, which you’re thankful for. 

“Dustin! This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?” 

Lucas’ voice rings out from Dustin’s walkie, and you perk your head up, relieved that he’s okay. The radio silence from the party was something that unnerved you immensely. With Dart on the loose, Will’s increasing episodes, who knows what else is happening in Hawkins at the moment? 

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Dustin responds, placing his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. You chuckle at him and continue helping Steve unload the trunk. 

You hear Lucas sigh into the walkie. “Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.” 

“Tell Erica I say hi!” You call out, knowing Lucas will hear you. He always resented the fact that his sister is so nice to you. You’re the only living person who didn’t receive Erica’s insane insults, which is something you’re very proud of.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Lucas!” 

Dustin shoos you away and continues to speak. “Well, when you were having sister problems, which really aren’t that hard to handle–” 

“Says you,” you butt in. 

“Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” Your brother finishes. By this point, you and Steve have pretty much unpacked everything in the car. 

“Wait, what?” You’d kill to see the look on Lucas’ face right now. 

“I’ll explain later, just meet me, Y/N, and Steve at the old junkyard.” As Dustin wraps up the conversation, Steve shoves his bat into the bag and you watch him with disappointment. He’s trying really hard to make it fit, and you almost pity the boy. Bless him. 

There’s a pause before Lucas asks, “Steve?”

Dustin doesn’t elaborate, instead instructing his friend to bring his binoculars and wrist rocket. You suppose it’s a good idea to add more weapons to your arsenal. Better safe than sorry.

“Steve Harrington?” Lucas asks again, this time even more confused. 

“He’s a friend,” you say, shoving your own weapons into the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 

Steve closes the trunk and says, “Damn straight I am. Alright, let’s go.”

You follow after him, saying goodbye to Lucas as Dustin tells him to be at the junkyard stat. 

Dustin stashes his walkie in his own bag and then the three of you are off. Your brother and Steve walk a bit ahead of you as you all throw the meat chunks onto the ground, doing as Dustin instructed. It’s slow work, but you’re happy to have some time to yourself while the boys are distracted with each other. Their friendship wasn’t something you’d expect, but you’re incredibly happy about it.

You love the party, you’d do anything for them given all that you’ve been through together. However, as they grow older, you can’t help but notice how much they’re changing. Mike hasn’t been himself since El disappeared, Dustin is now hyper focused on science, Lucas is becoming his own person, and poor Will is just trying to recover from the trauma of last year. 

It’s been hard watching them grow apart, in a way. Nothing will ever be the same after the Upside Down, you know that, but watching the party slowly drift makes you sad for your brother. You’re glad he’s seemingly found someone like Steve to bounce jokes off of and feel appreciated by. You know that someday the kids will all come together again, it’d be impossible not to with how strong of a connection they all have, so you try not to worry too much.

You shove the thoughts down, you need to keep focused on Dart and contacting the rest of the party. So, you dutifully place the bait down and follow behind the boys and feel the time pass by. After about an hour of nonsensical conversation between Steve and Dustin, you hear the older boy finally ask the question of why your brother even hid Dart in the first place. 

“It’s complicated, okay?” Dustin defects, clearly uncomfortable with the change in conversation.

You keep your distance from them, but you keep an ear out just in case you need to intervene. 

“You claim you wanted to get famous off of it or whatever,” Steve drops meat onto the tracks and kicks his foot. “Call me crazy, but you don’t hide something that supposedly makes you famous.” 

He has a point, and Dustin scrunches his face up. He casts a glance your way and you do your best to appear distracted by the job at hand. You know Dustin’s guilty face well, so whatever he’s about to tell Steve will be good. When Dustin shuffles closer to Steve and lowers his voice, you get closer as well so you can listen.

You’re his older sister. It’s your damn job to be nosy.

“It was for this girl.” 

Simultaneously you and Steve react. He hums in approval, almost proud, while you scoff. “I knew it.”

Dustin turns around, horrified. “You knew?”

“Duh, you’re awful at hiding things from me. After Max was just conveniently outside the AV room when Dart originally escaped, I pieced it together immediately. Also, side note: you’re too young to be impressing girls. I told you to just be yourself, dummy.”

Steve lets out a snort. “Pretty ironic coming from you, Y/N.”

Suddenly you feel uncomfortable with his attention on you.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice is steady, but you can feel your hands shaking as you continue throwing the bait. 

“Ya know, your massive crush on Jonathan ever since you were twelve.” He laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke in the world. 

Dustin clears his throat aggressively, pointing to your hands. Steve sees the way that they shake, the tension you now carry in your shoulders, and he’s become familiar enough with you to know your anger cues. The teasing smile that had been on his face drops. He runs towards you so he’s now by your side, and Dustin sighs in disappointment. 

“I didn’t, like, mean anything by that, you know. I–uh, I was kidding, Y/N.” Steve tries to catch your gaze, but you pointedly stare straight ahead and clench your jaw. He’s stumbling over both his words and the tracks beneath his feet, trying desperately to appease you. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.” 

“Y/N, please, I said I was sorry–”

You finally face him, grabbing his elbow to ensure he doesn’t move. “I told you that stuff about Jonathan in confidence. You don’t get to throw it back in my face, joking or not.” 

It doesn’t help that you’re already confused enough as it is about the boy and your feelings towards him. To have Steve tease you about it, especially because he knows how painful jabs about Nancy are… It really fucking hurts. 

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows. 

“Shit…”

“You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.”

Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 

They walk in silence for a little while, Steve hanging his head in shame and Dustin leading the way, frustrated by being stuck with two overly emotional teens. 

After a while the silence eats at Steve, so he decides to continue the conversation from earlier. “So, this girl… is she someone you’ve known a while?” 

Dustin shakes his head, “No, she’s new at our school. She’s super cool, though.”

“I remember back when I based my attraction to girls on their coolness.” Steve mumbles. 

“And look where basing it off their hotness has gotten you.” 

“Ouch,” Steve rubs at his chest, wounded.

Dustin laughs and flings some bait at him. “I thought that if I showed her Dart, she’d think I was cool, too, and like me.”

Steve sidesteps the thrown bait and tries to comprehend what the younger boy is saying. “So, you kept something that you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who… you just met?”

“Alright, that’s grossly oversimplifying things. And anyways, who are you to give me girl advice? My sister is literally three hundred feet ahead of us because you pissed her off with one singular sentence.” Then, almost as if as an afterthought, Dustin adds, “congrats, by the way. I’ve never seen someone piss her off so quickly.” 

“Look, this isn’t about me, okay? Sure, I messed up with Y/N, but it isn’t like I was hitting on her to begin with,” Dustin makes a disgusted face as Steve quickly continues, panicked. “So she doesn’t count. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard, man.” 

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?” Dustin grumbles. 

Steve shakes his head, slightly amused by the boy’s antics. He’s so much like you, and yet so different, and Steve is realizing it’ll take a lot to keep up with the kid. “It’s not about the hair, dude. Chicks dig more than just a good hairstyle.” 

“You’re literally known as Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

“Hey, ‘King Steve’ is also there.” 

Dustin flings even more bait at Steve, now annoyed with him. “Whatever man, it’s not like you’d be any help anyways.” 

“Oh really? Well, Little Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind: the key to girls is just acting like you don’t care.”

“Even if you do?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Steve now brightens up, happy to finally be getting through to the boy. For Steve, he’s long since learned that the best way to avoid getting hurt is to pretend that he doesn’t care. “It drives them nuts.”

“Then what?” 

“You just wait,” Steve looks ahead, watching you and feeling like a complete dick. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you, hell the two of you were finally starting to get somewhere and yet… Steve fucked it up. As always. 

He can see that your shoulders are still tensed up, you’re walking faster than you need to be. He feels a heavy weight in his stomach, one that he’s never felt before; he doesn’t like it. “You wait… until you feel it.”

Dustin furrows his brows. “Feel what?”

Steve tears his gaze away from you and turns back to Dustin, beginning to explain the electricity between someone you’re interested in. Being the geek that he is, Dustin turns it into a scientific discussion and Steve does his best to steer the conversation back. 

“No, like sexual electricity.” He explains.

As soon as the words leave Steve’s lips, you whip around and shout, “Are you seriously talking to my little brother about sexual electricity?”

Both Dustin and Steve freeze in place, dumbfounded. You let out a loud groan and continue stomping away, now even more aggressively throwing the chunks at the train tracks. 

“How did she even hear me?” Steve whispers, terrified. 

“I don’t know,” Your brother whispers back, also equally frightened. “Sometimes I think she has powers like El.”

Once you’re a safe enough distance away from them, Dustin hesitantly brings the girl conversation back up. “Hypothetically, what do girls like?”

Steve takes a second to answer, carefully rolling the question around in his mind. “It depends on the girl. Some girls want you to be aggressive, ya know? Go in for the kiss, make them feel protected. Strong, hot and heavy. Like a lion.” 

Dustin hums to indicate he’s following along, but ‘like a lion’ has him a little worried about the reliability of the conversation. He knows that Steve is a lady’s man, but he’s also never seen him with any girl besides Nancy, and the one time he saw him with you, he had immediately pissed you off. 

So for all Dustin knows, it could be lies. 

Steve continues his confusing explanation. “But others? You gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy… like a ninja!”

“Okay, what type is Nancy?” Dustin asks, hoping to get the teen to stop making stupid analogies. Lions, ninjas… maybe it was all lies. 

The question catches Steve off guard and he stumbles a bit, feeling the familiar sense of protectiveness, insecurity, over the girl as well as a new sense of loss. What type is Nancy? If he had been asked this a week ago, Steve would’ve told Dustin that she’s a nice girl, a girl he could happily bring home to his parents and proudly wrap around his arms. Now? He’s not so sure. 

Not when he can still see the anger and disgust in Nancy’s eyes that night at the party. 

“Nancy’s different,” he recalls his conversation with you from last night, how he’d confessed to always feeling two steps behind the girl and how exhausting it all is. “She’s just different. Let’s move on to the next question.” 

Dustin notices Steve’s change in demeanor but doesn’t say anything. He supposes that you and him have a lot in common, then. “Okay, what type would you say Y/N is?”

Once again Steve isn’t expecting the question Dustin asks. “What–” he trips over a twig and just barely manages to catch himself. “Why would you ask me that? She’s your sister, and I don’t even like her–”

“Relax, Romeo. She’s just similar to Nancy and the girl I like, and I figured you’d know Y/N well enough by now considering you guys slept together–”

“I slept on her bean bag–”

“And have been friends for like, a year. Plus, she’s in love with Jonathan, you’re in love with Nancy, and coincidentally they’re in love with each other. Figures that there’s some type intermingling between the four of you.”

How the hell does everyone know about Nancy and Jonathan? Steve thinks bitterly. 

He’s silent for multiple seconds, absolutely at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t know where to begin or what to even deny. Technically the boy is right, as much as it hurts Steve to admit. He’s all but lost Nancy to Jonathan, and you’ve lost Jonathan to Nancy. 

In an extremely messed up way, you and Nancy do have the same type. On top of that, both you and Nancy are close to Jonathan, so it’s safe to assume there’s similarities to the both of you that Steve doesn’t even want to touch on right now.

Even more importantly, Steve has yet to really decipher why your presence alone can make or break his entire day. Why, after months of not talking, it now feels like he’s finally come home again with you back in his life. 

He looks at you again, still angrily throwing your bait, and he supposes that you’re a lot like Nancy in certain aspects, and yet completely different from her. “Y/N is also different, I guess. She’s incredibly intelligent both emotionally and academically. Isn’t she like the top of her class?”

Dustin nods, proud of the Henderson intelligence, and Steve continues. 

“Right. I’d say she’s like Nancy, except she’s softer?” Steve cringes at his own words, suddenly uncomfortable with comparing the two of you. In his mind, you’re both your own separate entities that infatuate him in different ways. 

You both burn Steve; Nancy is like a shot of whiskey, the thrill that follows the burn. But you? You’re a fireplace after hours of being out in the cold, the burn of it warming his bones.

“Y/N is just… she’s special, but everyone knows that. Your sister is the most caring person I’ve ever met, and I know I’m a lucky son of a bitch to be someone she trusts.” 

Dustin snorts. “Yeah you are.”

Up ahead, you finally slow down and face the boys, now waiting for them to catch up and call out, “C’mon, ladies! The sun sets soon, I don’t want Lucas waiting in the cold all alone.” 

“Looks like I’ve been forgiven.” Steve says, relief evident in his voice, something that your brother doesn’t miss.

Dustin lets out another loud snort, patting him on the chest, “Oh, my sister may be forgiving, but she never forgets.” With that, he walks away to catch up with you. 

“Well, isn’t that ominous.” 

You greet the boys with a tired smile, knowing there’s no use holding resentment towards Steve. He couldn’t have known about your mixed feelings towards Jonathan, you know he had only been trying to get along with Dustin. 

Things are still weird between you two, despite the conversation from last night, but it’s hard to stay mad at Steve and honestly, you don’t really want to be mad at him. It’s been so lovely having him around again, and your own confusing feelings can wait. 

Steve leans in close to you, gently grabbing at your hand so that you don’t walk away. “Hey, we okay?”

His eyes are full of concern and his voice is sickly sweet like honey. With the honey, the remaining bits of anger vanishes. “Of course we’re okay.”

Steve exhales deeply and you giggle at him before remembering that Dustin is quite literally a few feet away from you two. Coughing, you hold up your bucket to point out how it’s almost empty. “I guess in my rage, I flung more than I intended. How are your buckets holding up?” 

The two boys hold their buckets up, giving you a mock solute to indicate that all is good. You laugh, impressed by how synched they’ve become in such a short time. 

“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” As you all begin to walk in line again, you ask, “What were you guys even talking about, anyways?” 

The boys glance at each other in a conspiring way, which causes you to roll your eyes. They’re acting like you asked for their deepest and darkest secrets. They seem to have a silent conversation for a couple seconds before Steve finally speaks up. 

“I was just giving Little Henderson some girl advice. Nothing serious.” 

You raise your eyebrows, your heart swelling a bit at the idea of Steve giving your brother advice. It’s sweet, really. “Girl advice, huh?”

“Yeah, why do you sound so skeptical?” 

“Because you’re terrible with girls.” 

Dustin now butts in, “He told me to be aggressive.” 

“I did not!”

“He also said that you’re softer than Nancy.”

You make a face. “Thank you? I think?”

Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “You two are the worst people I’ve ever met. You know that, right?” 

In unison, you and Dustin reply, “We get that a lot.” 

Steve stares at the two of you with slight horror in his eyes. “Yeah, alright. I’m out.” 

You grab at his sleeve, gently stopping him from storming away. You give him an apologetic look and pull him close so that your chest bumps against his. “You’ve gotta get used to the Henderson humor, Steve.”

He looks surprised by your tugging at his sleeve before he lets a smile cross his face. He doesn’t do anything else, but he also doesn’t back away, either, and you find yourself blushing a bit under his gaze. 

You clear your throat and let go of his sleeve, stepping back a bit. “Anyways, why don’t you tell me what wise advice you have for my brother.” 

The smile that was just on Steve’s face vanishes as he looks away from you. “I was just telling the kid to not fall in love with his little crush. He’s too young for heartbreak and all that other shit.” 

“I’m not in love with her!” Dustin exclaims in disgust, but you’re too distracted by Steve’s words to assure your brother that you believe him. 

“Well, I believe that love is something beautiful.” You say, your words only meeting Steve’s turned back. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know his indifference holds no malice. He’s still hurting, still in love with Nancy Wheeler. “Dustin, you may be too young to be in love, but don’t listen to Steve. To love and be loved is the luckiest thing we can ever do, regardless of how it ends.” 

Dustin blanches at your words, grossed out now. “Okay, okay, stop! Love is gross. I get it.” 

You softly mumble sorry to him, now suddenly remembering that he’s only thirteen. When you were his age, the idea of love also grossed you out. Now, love is a concept that you’ve found a comforting warmth in, even if it's burned you a few times and has left you more exhausted than exhilarated. One day he’ll understand (in the far off future, hopefully). 

For now, you flick your brother’s hat and follow after Steve, finishing the rest of the bait journey in silence. 

– 

By the time the three of you get to the junkyard, it’s already about midday. 

It’s different from how you imagined it, filled with old cars and a giant school bus. It’s more open, too, not as “junkyard” as you assumed. 

You, Steve, and Dustin stand at the top of the hill, surveying the area. Your feet ache from the walk and the sun is hurting your eyes. Seeing you squinting, Steve wordlessly hands you his signature Raybans and motions for you to put them on. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. It’ll do just fine,” He says, satisfied as he begins to walk down the hill. Then, as an afterthought, he says to Dustin, “Good call, dude.”

Dustin beams with pride and you fill with so much happiness, seeing the boy getting along so well with Steve, that you almost regret not having them meet sooner. However, there’s no time to wallow in what-if’s and you put Steve’s sunglasses on to follow after the boys. 

Immediately you and Steve get to work, working seamlessly together side by side, months of him joining you in Bookstrordinary finally being put to use. While you and Steve silently scatter more meat and grab supplies, Dustin surveys the area.

Just as you’ve dumped the remaining meat in the middle of the field, you hear Lucas’ voice call from a few yards away, “I said medium well!”

The boy is with Max, who looks slightly displeased, yet curious, to be here. Despite her still obvious hesitation, you still feel excited seeing the girl. You’ve been meaning to talk more to her, she seems like such a lovely girl. 

“Who’s that?” Steve asks you.

“Max! She’s great, and–” You start gushing about the girl, eager to go and say hi, before you see the crestfallen look on Dustin���s face when he realizes why she’s with Lucas. You remember, then, the weird tug-of-war between the boys over her. Shit. 

You grab at Steve’s hand and pull him aside. “Actually, Steve, why don’t we start finding some panels to cover the bus?”

Steve gives you a questioning look, but when you silently motion towards Dustin and he sees his despair as well, he catches on and just nods, following along. Without having to tell him, he understands that you want to leave Dustin alone so he can talk to Lucas. 

As always, you’re forever thankful that he can read you so well. 

After guiding Steve away, you and him begin to prep the junkyard alongside Max. While the boys are talking, you take this as an opportunity to get to know the girl better. 

“So,” you begin, helping Max carry a large piece of wood over to the bus. “I see you’re back again.”

“Looks like it,” she shrugs, not really feeling like talking. Seems like she’s still mad at you for yesterday, taking Lucas’ side over hers. 

You sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“That’s a first.” Again she deflects, but you know she’s doing it out of hurt rather than maliciousness. 

“I know you don’t really like me right now, which I totally understand, I just wanted to let you know that while I don’t like that you’ve been dragged into this mess, I’m happy you’re here.”

Max frowns at you. “You guys act like I’m going to like, die or something.”

A scrap of metal that you’d been carrying slips from your hands. Steve hears this and comes rushing over to help, but you gently wave him away and focus on Max. “I don’t know what Lucas told you, but it’s all true. It’s dangerous, being here, and I just… If you ever get hurt, any of you kids, then it’d be on me and I’d never forgive myself.”

“Way to be a buzzkill, Y/N.” Steve nudges you, trying to get you to smile before your ever-present guilt bears down upon you. 

Max bites her lip, still disbelieving, but she recognizes the pained look of protectiveness on your face. It’s not something that someone can easily fake, and from what she’s heard about you, your kindness is one of the few genuine things in Hawkins. 

Before she can say anything else, Steve lets out a huff and grabs a chair to bang on the car that Lucas and Dustin are talking behind. “Hey! Dickheads! How come it’s only Y/N and some random girl helping me?”

“Language!” You chastise. 

Steve sends you a thumbs up, not really listening. “We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”

Dustin and Lucas reluctantly start helping, both calling Steve an asshole and throwing him dirty looks, which you can’t help but laugh at. 

Lucas sees you laughing and points at you. “Are you the reason Harrington is here?”

“Mhm,” you respond, nailing another piece of wood to the bus. “He’s done more to help than you have, so either pick up some metal and help or go sit in a corner and sulk. Up to you.”

Steve high fives you. “Yeah! What she said!”

Lucas’ shoulders sag, completely at a loss as to how any of this has happened. “This is so weird.”

“Dude, I’ve spent all day with them. Imagine how I feel,” Dustin groans. “I think I died a little when I found out they’ve been friends for like, a year.”

“A year?” Lucas gasps. 

“Guys!” You throw pebbles at the two boys to break up their little gossip session. “One, I’m incredibly hurt you two didn’t think I had any friends besides Jonathan. Two, start helping before I throw more rocks.”

“Yes ma’am,” both boys grumble in unison, which Max finds pretty impressive. 

After that, the five of you get to work. You guys use every item available in the junkyard to secure the bus, hoping that with enough stacked against it, you’ll be safe from Dart once he’s lured. Barrels are rolled, more sheets of metal are placed against the bus, and within the next hour or so you’ve successfully managed to build a decent base. 

All that’s left is to pour the gasoline trail, which you help Steve with as the kids watch from inside the bus. 

“I’m getting major deja-vu right now,” you mumble as Steve pours. 

“Gasoline at Jonathan’s?” 

“Mhm. God, he wouldn’t believe what we’re doing right now.” You know he would’ve loved this bizarre interaction. You, Steve, and the kids all in a junkyard trying to lure a baby Demogorgon. 

You’ve definitely had better babysitting days, and Jonathan would have a field day with this one. 

Once you’re done with the gasoline, you and Steve return to the bus. He waits behind you, making sure you’re securely in the car, before he heaves the old bus door closed. As soon as the door is closed, you and Steve exhale together.

You share a look, both in silent agreement to keep the kids safe no matter what. It’s your guys’ job to keep them safe, to fight for and protect them. 

Deja-vu again. You’re back in Jonathan’s house, holding a switchblade while Steve wields his bat. 

“Ready?” He asks you, extending his hand out for you to grab. 

You interlock your fingers through his. “When am I ever?”

Steve laughs, dispelling away any remaining uncertainty and fear. You know, that no matter what, that he’ll be by your side to help. With this in mind, you join the kids further into the bus. 

Lucas climbs the ladder up to the top, something you’re not fully okay with, but he’s the one with the binoculars and you the switchblade, so it makes the most sense. As the boy climbs, you sit down next to Steve as he flicks his lighter on and off. You’re pressed shoulder to shoulder, his presence grounding you.

Dustin paces, and all you can do is watch him as you try to settle your own nerves. Max has seated herself at the other end of the bus, her arms crossed as usual. 

After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “So, you really fought one of these things before?”

Steve nods and you hum in agreement. “Unfortunately.”

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

“I mean, to be fair I also had that same thought last year–”

Dustin cuts you off. “Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.”

You roughly grab at your brother, yanking him towards you to shut him up. “Dustin–”

“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” He sneers at Max, something you’ve never, ever seen your sweet brother do. “Just go home.”

Max clenches her jaw and you send her an apologetic look, but she rolls her eyes at you. “Geesh, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” 

“Max, wait–” She ignores you and climbs up the ladder to join Lucas. You groan once she’s gone, now more than ever wanting to strangle your brother. “Dustin, what the hell was that?”

“That was good, Y/N!” Steve says, a proud smirk on his face. “He showed her he didn’t care, just like I told him to.”

“Oh, so it’s your fault my sweet, innocent baby brother is now some woman hating misogynistic piece of–”

“I don’t hate women, Y/N.” Dustin tiredly says, before directing his next words to Steve. “And I don’t care.”

Steve winks at the boy, but immediately flinches back when you raise your hand to smack him. “Yeah, cower away, you idiotic and moronic–”

“Y/N, stop overreacting and Steve, stop winking at me.”

You raise your eyebrows at Dustin’s tone and he quickly clears his throat and steps away from you. Steve puts some distance between you two as well, scooting away a bit so that he’s out of hitting range. 

It’s quiet again, both boys now scared of your anger, and you anxiously wait for Dart to show up. 

Steve goes back to flicking the lighter, Dustin paces again, and you tap your foot nervously. The silence is killing you, it’s always been your least favorite part of the Upside Down. The waiting, hoping you’re prepared for when all hell inevitably breaks loose. 

You flick your own blades out, admiring the way the blades catch in the moonlight, when you hear a loud growl come from outside. Instinctively you raise your blades to your face while Steve and Dusin scramble to peek through the metal sheets to look out the window. 

“You guys see him?” Dustin asks as he crouches next to you. 

You shake your head. “No,”

There’s nothing outside, only a thick haze of fog that has settled over the junkyard. 

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Your brother calls up to his friend.

“Hold on!” The boy responds. 

Your heart begins to beat faster, your blades never straying away from your face, poised for a fight. Steve sees the way your knuckles whiten over your weapon and he grabs your spare hand, gently coaxing you to calm down. 

Your fingers tighten around Steve’s and you remember his words from last night, promising you that he’ll be there, and you believe him. 

From the bus’ roof, you hear Lucas call down, “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock–ten o’clock!”

There, in the haze of fog, you see a hunched figure stalk its way towards the bus. Seeing Dart, you’re filled with complete dread. He’s grown again, much bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

He’s practically the size of the Demogorgon from last year, the same one that almost killed you and Steve. 

“What’s he doing?” Dustin asks, as if anyone else would have any more information than he does. 

“I don’t know,” Steve sighs, his eyes never leaving Dart. 

You squeeze his hand again and hold your breath as you watch the Demodog. He slowly approaches the bait, inspects the area, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in it. You send a silent prayer to whatever god is above that your plan will work. 

It has to work. 

However, Dart starts to back away from the bait and Steve leans even closer to the window. “He’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?”

“I don’t know,” you want to cry from exhaustion and fear and defeat. 

Dustin looks over at you. “Maybe he’s not hungry?”

Something seems to click, then, for Steve. His eyes light up with an idea, and before he can even get his words out, you grasp at Steve’s arm and try to talk him out of it. “No, absolutely not. You’re not going out there.”

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve tries to make you let go of him, but you quickly tighten your hold on him and fight back. “Y/N, let me go, I can run fast and–”

“You can’t just use yourself as bait!” You plead, but Steve has always been stronger than you and he drags you behind him as he makes his way towards the bus door. “Steve, listen to me!”

“Steve? Steve!” Dustin finally catches on to what’s happening and he grabs at the teen as well. “What are you doing?”

Steve ignores you both and with a quick jerk of his arm, he frees himself from you. As soon as you’ve let go, he runs towards the door and snatches his bat from the ground. You curse, knowing there’s no way in hell he’s going out there alone, so you follow after him. 

Dustin sees this and panics. “Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re going–”

“Stay put!” You command, scrambling after Steve, who has now begun to open the door. He tosses you the lighter, which you toss to your brother. “Just get ready, Dustin!”

“Y/N!”

“I love you!”

Dustin continues to shout, his pleas laced with more fear than you’ve ever heard from him, but you force yourself to leave. Just as you’ve stepped outside and re-closed the bus door, Dustin pounds against the glass that you’ve locked, tears in his eyes.

You look away, despite how fucking hard it is, and it takes everythin within you to leave. 

Steve saved your life last year. 

Now it’s your turn. 

It’s tense outside as you and Steve walk back to back, weapons out. He twirls his bat a few times, a move that you find yourself smiling at due to its familiarity. With your back against his, you whisper to Steve, “You look for Dart, I keep an eye for anything else?”

He nods, and together the two of you slowly follow the sound of Dart’s chittering. 

“C’mon buddy,” Steve taunts, beginning to whistle. 

“I know we named it a Demodog, but I don’t think whistling will help.”

“We could be about to die, and you’re seriously questioning what I’m doing?”

You shrug, eyes now on the skyline as the fog slowly thickens. “Habit.”

Steve chuckles, which brings some comfort to the fucking awful situation at hand. He whistles some more, continuing to taunt Dart. “C’mon. Dinner time.”

“Again with offering Dart meals while we’re near him,” you shake your head, not at all liking where any of this is going.

“What? At least human tastes better than cat.” Steve responds, now at the pile of raw meat.

You both stop here, Steve facing the bait and you facing the bus, still scanning for literally anything else that could possibly go wrong. Because you’re Y/N Henderson and nothing can ever, ever go right for you. 

Dart lets out another growl, now having spotted Steve, and the teen swings his bat around. You spare a quick glance behind you and see Dart, who has placed all his focus on you and Steve. 

Well, at least the live bait plan is working. 

You turn away again, and as soon as you do, you see the other Demodogs now suddenly appear. Your blood runs cold when you see the two up ahead, one directly in front of you and one on top of the cars. 

For a moment, your words seem to fail you and no sound comes out when you try to speak. All you can do is stare at them, overcome with fear. You’re back in Jonathan’s once more, the fear strangling you as the memories paralyze you. 

From the top of the bus, Lucas yells, “Steve! Y/N! Watch out!”

“We’re a little busy here!” Steve yells back, eyes still on Dart. 

The Demodog in front of you starts to approach, which finally seems to break you from your spell. Shakily, you tell Steve, “There’s more.”

“What?” He tries to turn around, but you shove at him to not lose sight of Dart. You can’t distract him now. Another Demodog has joined.

“Three o’clock! Right in front of Y/N!” Lucas screams, his voice cracking with fear. 

“Y/N?” Steve fully turns around now when he realizes that you’re also in danger, and when he sees the three other Demodogs, he lets out a curse. “Shit.”

Suddenly, you and Steve are surrounded by Demodogs, more than you ever could’ve imagined. More than the two of you can even fight on your own. 

Back at Jonathan’s, it had taken guns, fire, knives, and bats to kill a grown Demogorgon. 

You don’t think your knives and Steve’s bat will be enough for Demodogs. 

“Steve! Y/N! Abort!” Dustin has flung the bus door open, screeching for the two of you to get out of there. 

It’s too late. Dart has opened his mouth and is running towards you two, his friends joining as well. 

“I go left, you go right!” Steve has just enough time to direct you before Dart lunges. 

You dodge, going right as instructed while Steve flings himself on top of a car to avoid the monsters. As Steve hits Dart with his bat, crouched against the car, you narrowly avoid the other Demodog and drop to the ground as it jumps over your head. “Shit!”

Steve swings his bat again and tries to make his way over to you, but you’re off the ground in a heartbeat and run to him instead. Two of the Demodogs are on him now, and there’s only so much damage his bat can do. Breathless, you run over and stab at their backs, doing everything you can to give Steve an opening to run. 

Faintly, you hear the kids in the background cheering you guys on, urging you two to come home.

One of the Demodogs lets out a harsh screech as your blade pierces its skin. It crumbles to the ground, giving Steve just enough of an opening to begin running towards the bus. When he goes to run, you notice one of the Demodogs eying him, and before you can even process what’s happening, you’re throwing yourself in front of him and you feel nails tear at your ribs.

You scream, clutching at your side in agony, feeling blood quickly beginning to spill from your wound. “Fuck!”

“Y/N!” Steve starts to run toward you, pale with fear. 

“No!” You shove him back towards the bus; you can’t let him get hurt because of you. “Go, I’ll be fine!” 

He tries to argue, but you take a deep breath and grip his jacket tightly, practically flinging him inside the bus just before Dart lunges again. Together, the two of you stumble up the steps and barricade the door. 

As soon as it’s closed, Dart begins slamming against it with his entire body. 

Steve uses his legs to hold the door closed while you lay sprawled on the ground, trying to steady your breathing as more blood spills from you. The room is spinning and you’re pretty sure you can taste blood in your mouth. 

Awesome. Cool. 

The kids are screaming and Dart’s body causes the entire bus to rock as his friends now join, throwing their own bodies against the bus as well.

“Are they rabid or something?” Max screams, but everyone ignores her. 

Steve, quick as ever, finds a spare piece of metal and wedges it against the door and uses his legs again to hold it in place. He looks over at you on the ground and feels his heart jump to his throat. You’re pale, a sheen of sweat now dotted across your forehead, and there’s now a concerningly large pool of blood where you lay. “Dustin, go help your sister!”

Dustin looks up and finally notices your injury and almost faints at the sight. In a daze, he runs over to you and kneels down, terrified of how much blood there is. “Oh my god.”

“I’m fine,” you wince, trying to clench your teeth and bear through the pain. “Honestly, this is like a paper cut.”

“Y/N–” The sound of glass shattering cuts Dustin off as a Demodog breaks through the window. Everyone screams, and your brother grabs your arms and drags you further towards the back of the bus to avoid any glass getting on you. 

Wearily, you watch as Steve does whatever he can with his bat, and a part of you wants to laugh. He looks like he’s playing the hardest game of wack-a-mole ever. 

Meanwhile, Lucas and Max have joined you and Dustin. When they see you, Lucas lets out a choked scream while Max covers her eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Lucas kneels over you as well, and you find his sincerity endearing. He’s always been the sweetest in the group, the most comforting. 

“Never been better,” you wheeze out. 

Dustin instructs Lucas to stay with you while he tries to radio for help. “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God? Anyone!”

“God would be pretty nice to have.” You remark, pain making you even more delirious than usual. 

Max looks at Lucas. “She’s losing it.”

“I think I’m doing great, all things considered.”

Dustin continues to scream into his walkie for help while Lucas tries to stop your bleeding. Max is running around, looking for anything to help, and Steve is still stuck at the front of the bus playing wack-a-mole with Demodogs. 

The situation is so fucking grim, and you’ve never wanted to laugh more. 

Then, to make matters even worse, the ceiling of the bus starts to creak. You see the faint outlines of what suspiciously looks like Demodog footprints on the roof. In slow, agonizing footsteps, Dart makes his way over to the emergency exit on top.

He leers over, and Max, who is at the bottom of the ladder, screams. 

Steve shoves the kids back and you try to get up, but Lucas pushes you down and shakes his head at you. 

“You want some? Come get this!” Steve places himself between Dart and you and the kids, screaming at the thing and waving his bat around, and you’ve never been more attracted to him.

Dart lets out a blood curdling screech, his mouth full of rows of razor sharp teeth that killed your cat just the other day, and you cling onto Lucas’ hand. Another screech, and just before Dart strikes at Steve, it jumps off the bus and runs away. 

Everyone freezes, unsure what to do, as more distant growls and howls can be heard from outside. Steve and the rest stand up, and you notice Lucas holding Max’s hand, and at least something good came out of this hellhole of a day. 

“Any help here?” You finally ask after a minute or so, still lying helplessly on the ground as you bleed.

“Shit!” Steve drops his bat. “Where did it get you, where’s the bleeding? Dustin, did we pack any bandages, or–or an EMT stretcher or–”

“Steve,” you grab his hand, urging him to calm down. “It scratched the fuck out of my ribcage, but I’m not dying. I promise.”

“You’re not?” Dustin asks, tears in his eyes. 

“I’m not. I just…” you shift, wincing at the pain. “I just really need a bandage and I’ll be good as new.”

Steve swallows, a frenzied look in his eyes, and nods. Without thinking, he tears a piece of your bloodied cardigan off and gently lifts your body up so that he can wrap the shred of cloth around you. He weaves it tight, his movements slow and delicate, his eyes never leave yours. 

You can feel his hands shaking as he tends to your wound and ties the cloth with a knot. When he’s done, even though you’re aware of the kids’ eyes on you two, you bring his hands to your lips and kiss them. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” He whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Dustin coughs, which seems to make Steve remember where he is, and he clears his throat. “Right, well. Try not to lose any more blood, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” 

Steve nods and stands back up, knowing Dustin and Lucas will want a moment with you, and makes his way back outside. He knows that they’re all still in danger, even if for some reason the Demdogs seem to have left. 

Once Steve is gone, Dustin and Lucas help you stand, and as soon as you’re up, both boys try their best to give you a hug without hurting you. 

“Don’t do that ever again,” Dustin sniffs, squeezing your uninjured side tightly.

“What he said,” Lucas sniffs as well, though he tries to hide his tears from you. 

You laugh, your own tears evident as you hold the boys tight. “I promise.” 

“You saved Steve,” Max notes, though her tone is neutral, you can see she’s impressed.

“I had to even out a debt.” 

“Guys,” Steve calls from outside. “The coast is clear.”

Slowly, you and the kids make your way out of the bus. It takes some help from both Dustin and Lucas, but eventually you’re able to walk on your own, holding your side, and walk down the steps. 

“You okay?” Steve is by your side as soon as you’ve stepped down, holding you so that he’s not touching your cut. You’re thankful for his support, the pain still making you feel woozy. 

“We’ll talk later,” you motion towards the kids, not wanting to worry them any further. 

He nods, although he hates that you feel like you can’t focus on your own safety. 

“What happened?” Lucas asks the group. 

“I don’t know.” Max looks around, and you think she’s finally starting to understand what she’s gotten herself into. 

Dustin points to you and Steve. “Maybe they scared ‘em off?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head. It couldn’t have been that easy. “No way.”

“They’re going somewhere.” You finish for him, confirming your worst fears. Suddenly, more pain shoots through you and you wince again, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Steve bends his head down, guiding you a bit away from the kids so that they won’t hear. “Hey, we don’t have to follow them. We can go home, you know.”

“We can’t.” You clench your jaw as pain rings throughout your body. The goddamn Demodog got you good. “We have to follow. It’s all connected, Will and his episodes, Nancy and Jonathan with the detective, and I’ll be damned if I back down now.”

“So we follow?” Steve asks, trusting whatever call you make.

You nod, knowing you have to do this. While you guys are safe for now, you know that everyone else has to be in danger; you have to protect them. “Unfortunately.” 

-

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[the-nosy-neighbor]

Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight

As always, I have edits:

This will make more sense at the end.

I came across some theories about this song, and wanted to look at it in depth.

We are reading with the understanding that he may be referring to Eddie.

[A gentle piano and bassoon track begins playing.]

The sun is low, it’s cold and dark,— end of season, but could also be a reference to night and danger after dark

Just wind and snow, I must remark,

The bugs all head to slumberland,—interesting given the use of toyland, also the commercial about remderem/insomnia (some must sleep but Wally is in the opposite state. Too aware?), but could be a reference to death, like “the big sleep”

Some might find it sad, but I understand,—on face value, he will miss his friends, but knows that it is inevitable.

Even if I might not be able to see you,—can’t see Eddie because he is gone/buried

I know it’s for the best, I can’t keep you,—Eddie staying would lead to serious consequences for Eddie

It’s time for all of you to get some rest,—after what we saw Eddie go through, I bet he would be better in a different state

To tuck you all into your arthropod nests,—bug stuff; also Julie's hibernation?

At this point, those last few lines could refer to a sort of death for Eddie. Almost like frank can preserve him in some way by giving him a death in this universe. If we are talking puppet world, which we did see in commercials, most of Eddie’s anxiety happened in that state. So, can Frank give Eddie a suspended or death like state in one of the layers of reality and he is preserved in storybook world or our real world?

With one last check, that nothing is amiss,

I can see you safe into your chrysalis,—this reads that he will put Eddie into a different state of being that he can come back from. The coming back is my interpretation only at this point because I assume frank wouldn’t choose death for him or would for sure be hurt by Eddie’s death. Things would have to be very bad if true death is a better option for Eddie.

Also, it hearkens back to the horror butterfly image. Another also, caterpillar to butterfly, an insinuation of emedging into a new form. I don’t see allusions to Howdy in here, but I suppose it is possible that this could refer to more than one neighbor and Frank is taking them all out.

As you snuggle down into your dirt,—reference to being buried?

I want to assure you that I won’t be hurt.

This clarifies that it is a sleeping type state, not death. Ok, here is we’re Eddie’s Halloween costume comes in. Frankenstein, changed from the Scarecrow in earlier art (presumably from wizard of oz). Interesting thing about scarecrow vs. Frankenstein is that we see scarecrow taken apart during that film and Frankenstein is famously assembled from parts of different people. Interestinger is the fact that they are both afraid of fire. (I love that Young Frankenstein shows up more than the original in a search.)

Frankenstein (and scarecrow) are both put back together, but for Frankenstein it seems more of a new being, not just a reassembling. Frankenstein (aka frankenstein’s monster) is a thinking, speaking individual that was horrified at the situation he was in. Frankenstein in the book murders to punish his creator for the immorality of creating him and the resulting loneliness that the monster feels. As such, the choice is very interesting. If the puppets of welcome home come to be aware or sentient, I wonder how they would feel about Ronald Dorelaine or their situation?

If the movie version is the focus of Eddie’s costume choice, then he would be a potentially thinking and feeling being (he is afraid of fire), but without further evidence we don’t know his thoughts.

Scarecrow is a guy without a brain, with the power of speech, so a kind of opposite. I think they all end up just needing to be confident, which is why some shyster from the Midwest is able to help. This almost seems to be more in tune with Eddie's character--Eddie has a tendency to appear kind of ditsy, is constantly being dismissed by others. In the end, we find out he is actually smart but lacks confidence. I can see that being true for Eddie as well.

If I had to pick out a character for Frank, it would be the Tin Man. Poppy is the Cowardly Lion, Wally is Dorothy. Home is Home. There are more parallels here than I was expecting. Howdy is the Wizard, Julie can be Glenda, and the Wicked Witch...is kind of no one? Sally can be a flying monkey. She works my nerve. Also, the whole spying thing was done by the monkeys in the movie.

But now that I am thinking about it, this comparison makes a lot of sense, in terms of the complex relationships, as well as the levels of reality that you find in Wizard of Oz. A big event leads to a shift in the understanding of reality, and the lead finds themselves in a very colorful world that doesn't much resemble their own, but is very flashy, has songs, beloved characters, and a sense of danger. There are some things when thought about in the context of real life, or the black and white portion of Wizard of Oz, would be truly frightening.

Of course, Wizard of Oz shares a lot of parallels with Alice in Wonderland, which also seems somewhat related. In terms of source material, the Wizard of Oz is considered to be a parable that expresses the thoughts about US economic policy in the 1890's. This is a theory that you can read more about here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Political_interpretations_of_The_Wonderful_Wizard_of_Oz

It isn't super related, and not everyone believes that this is the case. However, it seems to be a very American type story, no matter what you believe, that touches on the experience of normal people while much larger forces lie and fuck around with everything.

As the holidays begin to approach,

I gently kiss, each and every roach,—kisses for Eddie. We have seen a realistic roach on the secret page with the mishmash of one script where Wally is deciding what to draw

I made sure to keep, my garden cozy,

So you can safely sleep, in fallen posies,—this whole stanza shows a desire to and promise of a quiet death and maybe even a maintained grave. I looked up posies to see where Eddie could potentially be buried. Posies refer to a nosegay, or small bouquet of flowers. It was a Victorian secret code thing, a way to declare love or even reject people based on flower and color. One that sticks with us in the form of red roses signifying love. On the map, there is a cluster of yellow flowers to the side of Frank’s house. Not sure this counts as his garden, since it is on the other side of the house. Julie has a group of flowers behind her house, but once again, not his garden. No fallen flowers that I can ID.

When googling posey, this is what comes up. I felt that there was a flower called a posey, and these do look like the big yellow flowers by Frank’s house. If any flowers fall in updates, I am going to assume someone is buried there.

There is also the ring around the roses rhyme, which could relate, but I don’t really see a correlation.

It’s time to get comfortable in your honeycomb,

take your winter intermission in your garden loam,—dirt, burying again

neatly nestled from the cold in roots and rhi-ya-zomes, — cozy dead

sleeping side by side under stately stones,—2 dead? Headstones is the link I make there--OK, now look at the pic! (I know, it's a reach.)

…And I’ll be inside of my home,—frank is staying to oversee something. It reads like calming the person who will die. This seems to bolster that arguments that I addressed in the post about bugs on the previous website, that Frank is working against, or at least parallel to Wally. With the bugs, the whispering to Eddie, and using his first name, I think it is reasonable to suggest that Frank is working against Wally and/or Home.

Another potential clue is the hidden video with the clothespins where 1 is upside down. I have theorized that it is a reference to Barnaby dying, but it could be Barnaby and Eddie. Only one clothespin is shown upside down though, so Barnaby or Eddie?

Regardless of how I feel you need to go away,

I’ll be the one to tell you, you just can’t stay,—he likes bugs but this is extreme of Frank, if he is talking about actual bugs

Thankfully I lack a sentimental sensibility,—true that, he generally seems calm.

I enjoy my Methodical Mundanity,—why is this capitalized? I looked and looked but I can’t find the origin of this phrase, though it came up a few times in random posts and articles. Clown does have a tendency to capitalize things that seem random. Me below is also capitalized. I listened as well, and I have to wonder why the singing is so bad? I don’t think the voice actors are bad at singing, seems like a deliberate choice to have reedy and unsteady vocals, pitch issues and pacing problems.

Where all that’s left is… Me.

So, this is a bit extreme for a song about hibernating bugs. I think that given our many references to bisecting or otherwise putting people into pieces (Eddie butterfly horror, frank in a pile of body parts, look I made a dog, and slinky Barnaby, now Frankenstein and Scarecrow) that we could be looking at death in a sense that works in one layer of reality. You disassemble a puppet, it is no longer a puppet. So what if Frank = Frankenstein and Eddie is Frankenstein’s monster? Frank can take him apart and put him back together in puppet reality?

If I had to guess, I am sticking with my working theory. Frank, as the smartest guy in the neighborhood, is the resistant force in the neighborhood. Wally/Home is/are the catalyst for the scary stuff. They are central to everything, physically and otherwise.

I have mentioned that in the last update, Sally and Poppy have the appearance of spies or managing Eddie. Given that Poppy doesn’t attend to party, I am anticipating that Eddie was isolated and watched by Sally during this planning period, where Wally and Barnaby walk the neighborhood to find out what Homewarming is. Given that it is said that Wally and Home instigated Homewarming, it is strange that everyone knows what it is except for Wally. It reads more as an attempt to achieve a goal, despite everyone knowing about the holiday. Even Julie is at the party, and she is supposed to be hibernating. Well, they don't say exactly when Julie hibernates (maybe there was something about her doing it after the holiday?) Anyway, Poppy isn't at Homewarming. She could be at home, but the book stating that they are all here seems like an attempt to cover up her absence. What is she doing? Snooping in the Post Office while Sally watches Eddie? Does Eddie want to go home for not feeling well or he has an idea of what is happening while he is gone?

Maybe Frank sees his boyfriend and comrade at arms about to get hit with something bad, so to preserve him and the opposition, he is going to disassemble him (cue Johnny 5) for protection.

In the past, Sonny (the Brazilian bird) was cast as the opposition to Wally, and included in a relationship with Frank. This work in particular comes to mind:

Clown has stated that they removed Sonny from the project due to the story changing from one with a hero, to one without, as that wasn't the story that they wanted to tell. What if, though, instead of Sonny being written out for the hero reason, there was another reason? What if we are seeing Frank taking on being the neighborhood's savior? He is just snarky enough to make it seem less like a hero situation and more because it was impacting his garden.

[coff-in]

Can I request a dynamic where the reader is the youngest Graves sibling (like a year younger than Ashley) and is objectively the most "normal" of the siblings (before Ashley and Andrew kind of ruin it)?

She's still clingy with her big brother and sister, but she's also happy to make friends outside of them and actively cares about them a lot. The thing is that Andrew forbids her from dating and Ashley scares off a lot of her friends and when quarantine rolls around she's stuck with two older siblings who are obsessed with her and she's not too sure what to do about it, because her siblings really are all she has left now.

Bonus details, I think it would be fun if her relationship with Andrew is bordering on romantic/he has romantic feelings he doesn't admit to but shows (sleeping in the same bed, holding hands) and he dotes on her a lot as the youngest. However, this strains her relationship with Ashley, who is used to having Andrew to herself before the youngest sister was born, but also loves reader (platonically, maybe transitioning to romantically) because she's never done anything but love Ashley unconditionally.

So it's a complicated thing where Ashley's possessive of both but also scared they'll get together and abandon her, Andrew is extra possessive and protective of reader but denies it to hell (as he does), and reader is slowly realizing some things about her siblings that she really should've realized much, much earlier...

notes from coff-in: GRRRR IT'S LIKE YOU LIVE IN MY MIND!!!! oh to have two possessive and obsessive older siblings who love you way more than a normal sibling should, not like i'm complaining, hahaha! i'm sorry these asks are taking so long... i just wanna hang on to all your wonderful asks and daydreaming about them indulgently!! even so, i hope this was to your liking and thank you so much for requesting!!

[fem] reader-insert, [reader] is 1 year younger than ashley, talks/mention of incest, brief NSFW

I love you more than I should...

Andrew and Ashley did not know why their mother thought she should have a second child. Maybe this was an accidental pregnancy.

When [reader] was old enough to walk and talk, Mrs. Graves delegated the responsibility of raising her to Andy, who was around maybe four or five years old at the time. He tried his best to keep them both happy and satisfied, but it was obvious to the keen few that he paid extra attention to his baby sister. Leyley wasn’t used to not having Andy’s full attention on her and expressed her hatred of the new status quo by picking on her little sister.

When [reader] would try to make amends with Leyley for whatever crime she committed, it shocked Leyley. She remembers when she was playing in the forest one day, picking on the bugs in the dirt, and having her little sister [reader] walk up clumsily to her with dug-up flowers in her hand.

“I’m sorry I made you upset, Leyley. Please don’t be mad.” Leyley picked on her less after that and a heated argument with Andy. In fact she tried to hang out with [reader] more often and tried her best to be nicer to her sister. She was someone besides Andy that she could call a friend. It wasn’t uncommon to catch [reader] following her older siblings like a lost puppy, eating lunch and studying with Andy or drawing and playing around with Leyley.

The other kids found it strange how [reader] would willingly hang out with Leyley. She was so normal like Andy was. She was sociable and had friends that she hung out with from time to time… until Leyley drew most of them away. The only ones that stuck around were Julia and Nina. Maybe [reader] knew that they were just using her to get closer to Andy or maybe she believed that they genuinely wanted to be her friends.

Once Nina died [reader] stopped putting herself out as much. She clung much closer to her big siblings and they were happy to dote and comfort her. Leyley made it so that [reader] promised with the blood pact she would never love anyone else but her and their bother.

As they got older, in middle and high school [reader] started to come out of her shell again. She tried to make some new friends but Ashley, again, did her hardest to scare most of them off. 

“What do you need other friends for?” She’d ask [reader] when they see each other during the day, “You have me and Andy! You don’t need anyone else!”

It’s not like Andrew was any better himself. His possessiveness was less visible to others but it was still there. “Ashley’s right, sis. You don’t need to worry about making friends right now.” (God, to be the object of affection between these two <3)

He didn’t like the idea of [reader] dating. He knew it was wrong for him to think of his sister like this, but he didn’t want to share her with anyone else. He’d never admit that he got off on the idea of being her first; her first kiss, her first boyfriend… To avoid the jealousy he knew he’d feel if [reader] dated he simply told her that she wasn’t allowed to do so. Any arguments that [reader] had about him or Ashley dating (mostly about him dating Julia) were casually swept aside with the excuse that he’s older than her.

Ashley doesn’t like Andrew dating Julia. He can’t leave her! Does Julia really think that she’s better because Andrew can fuck her and not Ashley or [reader]?! While Ashley leaves 200 violent voicemails for Julia, [reader] calls Andrew a lot during his time in college to ask if he could come home.

“I miss you.” [reader] would say in that low, pouty voice that’ll tug on Andrew’s heart and make his cheeks red. “Could you come back this weekend to visit?”

And he’d say “Of course.” because he could never deny his little sisters.

Once they’re stuck in quarantine, Andrew and Ashley start showing (or at least then [reader] starts noticing) their more possessive and… weirder nature.

They’re always with [reader] except for when [reader] has to use the restroom. Ashley’s making [reader] do some chore with her or Andrew’s subtly holding [reader] close to him when he’s smoking on the balcony. Ashley would make her teasingly suggestive comments about [reader] and Andrew would immediately shut them down while avoiding looking at [reader] because he does think that they have a merit to them.

Andrew sneaks into [reader]’s bed when the nightmares come and cuddles up to his baby sister. He holds her close in his arms and rests his face on top of her head or in the crook of her neck or on her chest with her chip over his head. He relishes in her warmth and takes deep inhales of her scent to comfort himself. 

Whenever [reader] does chores, he pats her on her head and says that she did a good job and that he’s proud. [reader] insists he praises Ashley too and it makes her heart pound a little faster and harder. 

Skip over to Episode 1 when they break into the cultist apartment, Andrew tries to avoid having [reader] see what’s up. [reader] is reasonably freaked out and upset about having to dismember and EAT a dead guy until Ashley proposes that she’d just starve to death. Andrew argues with Ashley about letting their baby sister starve and would probably insist with Ashley that [reader] should eat the dead cultist.

Ah, this is going to be very lazy of me but I’m going to skip over to the Burial vision scene. In the vision, the siblings see themselves (all three of them) post-coitus, naked and marked up by each other. (Very self-indulgent but [reader] would be placed in the middle of them)

Andrew’s an embarrassed mess because holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! 

He fucks his sisters. He fucks his baby sister, [reader]. He’s as elated as he is scared… she’s not like that. She wouldn’t fuck him. She wouldn’t fuck her older siblings and she wouldn’t want them as much as he wants her… would she?

Ashley’s never really considered [reader] in a romantic light like that, but she doesn’t mind it at all. Having [reader] close to her and Andrew like that brings a warm comfort to her.

With the way the trinket works, [reader] probably wouldn’t be able to see the vision since she can’t touch it when Andrew and Ashley are holding it in their hands. She’d be sleeping on the couch, waking up when she heard Andrew and Ashley yelling about the argument.

I wanna write smut about them having a hot incestuous threesome so badly but I’m losing steam right now. They all confess their feelings about each other and kiss tho. By the time Episode 2 ends [reader] has been sort of worn down by Andrew and Ashley’s weird feelings that she’s like “Yeah I’d fuck my siblings because I love them!”

----

coff-in

[frozenjokes]

deeply infatuated with them. so much so that you guys can have the full ficlet as a treat. And yeah he wears that dumb fuck lab coat to bed of course he does. he’s also a socks in bed wearer and if you don’t think so we will be dualing at dawn.

zombiecleo and the worst found family in the world vvv

Ow. Ow.

Mosquitos, deer flies, horse flies, bugs, Cub was being ravaged by bugs, he really hadn’t considered the bugs when he’d started this journey. In the Wisconsin northwoods you breathed them, all sorts, but the deer flies were his worst enemies, drawing blood even through the thick layers of.. well, moss didn’t feel like an accurate descriptor. It looked a little like moss, like life had reached toward the sky and captured the stars, brilliant and twinkling and everything good. But moss didn’t have teeth. Sculk did. Cub liked that about it. Whether it hurt more or less than the flies, that was up for debate, but the sculk was consistent, familiar, everywhere, and the flies were in his way.

But with all the bugs, there was some reprieve. Afterall, another source of food meant less of those teeth under Cub’s skin. Less pain, though, somehow, he still managed to miss it.

Sculk was alien. It was not supposed to be here. But it wanted to be.

Sculk was a parasite. So was Cub.

Ow- Fucking- stupid ass dumbass fucking-

Cub jolted awake with a screech, being shaken- dragged out of bed, the monster on his neck- he was falling, a bear- a black bear had got him, he was being dragged through the woods by a black bear- fuck- what bear was it you where you were supposed to play dead? Cub had thought the brown bear, there weren’t brown bears in Wisconsin- He tried anyway.

He realized the floor was not dirt. The paws awkwardly dragging him along weren’t black or brown. Momentarily stunned, he heard Cleo cackle through the darkness.

“Scar- Scar! What are you doing? Wait- No no- No! Scar!”

Cub had the wind knocked out of him as his kidnapper attempted to jump onto Cleo’s bed, his stomach slamming into the mattress before he was unceremoniously dragged all the way up over a howling Cleo. Briefly Cub was released, to which he cautiously began to move until the sheets were pulled so hard underneath him that he fell off balance, only to be grabbed by the throat, then shoved head first underneath.

Cub needed a second to breathe, utterly shocked he was still alive. Then a large weight fell on top of him, and breathing became a little harder. The weight began to purr.

“Scar.” Cleo gasped, sounding just as shaken as Cub felt, though not nearly as dazed. The purring ceased briefly, then began again, Cleo’s bewilderment remaining unanswered. “What- Why?” they tried again, which Scar seemed more receptive to.

“Easier to watch when you’re close together. This is better. Efficient. Safer.”

“We- We don’t need to be watched, Scar. We are safe. This room is safe. There is literally nothing in here that can hurt us.”

“That RenKing is awfully suspicious. It’s watching me.”

“He’s not on! He can not turn on by himself, we are fine.”

“What else lurks in the shadows, Cleo? You never know, you never know. One minute you’re safe, the next minute a hawk has swooped out of nowhere and grabbed your kitten, you gotta be careful, you gotta sleep together. It’s the best way to do it, it’s the best way.”

“I can not argue with you about this right now. Is Cub even alive?”

“He’s wriggling.” Cub was indeed wriggling. He wasn’t even uncomfortable per se, there was something deeply mollifying about having a large weight directly on your back, and he slept face down anyway, so this wasn’t a huge issue. Just adjusting.

“Let him go, Scar.”

Cub was a little offended by the implication that he could not get Scar off by himself- Scar was at least half his weight! “I’m fine.”

“He’s fine,” Scar parroted.

Cleo sighed, long and strained. She said no more. With enough passage of time, Cub stopped going to sleep in his own bed, since no amount of arguing was going to stop Scar from dragging him out of it every night. Though, out of all of Scar’s disruptive quirks, this was not something Cub minded all too much. He liked Cleo’s company, though he was relatively certain Cleo did not enjoy sleeping in a full bed nearly as much. Well, Cub definitely took up more room, but it wasn’t like she had slept alone since Scar had invited himself to sleep at their feet anyway.. then their legs.. then their stomach.. then their chest. Maybe this was always the next step. Cub wouldn’t be surprised if Scar had been planning it from the start. Oh well. No skin off his back.

uh if you like this there’s more of it on ao3 here’s a link

[bearieio]

ellie w. hcs :3

bc im seeing them everywhere and i need to put in my 2¢. thank you. (also not proofread :P)

⋆ biggest hayley kiyoko fan for like 3 years (the intro to ‘girls like girls’ was her ringtone when she was 14). would beg joel to take her to random record stores that they passed by just to see if they had any hayley kiyoko cds.

⋆ because of joel, she listens to a lot of 70s-90s dad rock. 

⋆ can’t drive for shit. like literally she’s not allowed to drive without her glasses

⋆ she needs glasses btw. she doesn’t wear them because she’s already too much of a loser. but when she does where them, you tease her endlessly about them. 

⋆ can and will sleep on the floor whenever prompted. no blankets, no pillows needed. just her and the floor.

⋆ isn’t allowed to drink any sort of energy drinks on account of a previous incident that had to do with about 3 cans of redbull and 2 large cans of the ‘Java Monster.’

⋆ isn’t allowed to own small pets (like gerbils, guinea pigs, hamsters, etc.) because she’d definitely forget about them. 

⋆ owns big dogs. great danes, newfoundlands, irish wolfhounds, mastiffs, st bernards, YOU NAME IT, SHE HAS IT (or has had it)

⋆ when she’s older, i feel like she’d be like one of those white people who has 192793999 dogs for no reason 

⋆ since her mannerisms are so much like joels, you guys argue playfully all the time about how things should be done, often bringing others into it too. 

“jesse, tell her!” he flips her phone screen around to reveal a very tired jesse, “it’s 1AM, ellie-“ 

“TELL HER!” 

⋆ i feel like at random times, she’ll just grab your boob(s). i don’t know why and you’ve never said anything about it, so she hasn’t stopped…… very handsy….

⋆ audibly goes “honk honk!” almost every time she gives ‘em a squeeze.

⋆ she’s a really sloppy kisser. not like boy-sloppy, but like the hot, messy, girl sloppy bc that sounds better and honestly i think her kisses would be the best.

⋆ she was one of those kids who’d eat dirt and find bugs all the time

because of this, she’s the designated bug killer/bug-getter-outter…. idk

⋆ she’s the worst drunk you know.

like literally sssoooooooooo messy oh my god. but you love her nonetheless :)

she’s soo clingy, and, touchy (like more than usual), but also much more emotional and sensitive than usual when she’s drunk or when she’s sick.

⋆ ellie tends to be quite difficult when she’s sick. BUT! you make it work bc you love her and she loves you :>

when you bring ellie her favorite drink from her favorite coffee shop, you literally have to fight her to be able to get out the front door. when you get up to serve her lunch, you’ve got to peel her off of you because she refuses to let you leave her side. when you go and get the medicine she says she doesn’t need…. you guessed it, she fights for you to stay in bed next to her.

“babe, what if i die right here, when you leave- like- BABE PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME-“ she bewails, crossing her arms and huffing at the sight of you leaving her.

⋆ when you catch her playing her guitar, she sometimes gets all shy and plays the wrong chords n stuff. 

“don’t LOOK! >:(” she says, gripping the body of her guitar, glaring in your direction.

“oh!- okay” you say, throwing your hands up in a playful manner, giggling. 

⋆ but the times where she’s not shy about playing in front of you, she’ll ask you if you want to play.

“do you uh- maybe wanna play? i could teach you” she suggests, gesturing toward the stringed instrument.

but then after, she’d tease you about your finger placement :(

“i said the fourth fret, girl, not the second, or, the third!” she says, in between laughs.

“well fourth from the top or the bottom?!” you scoffed, looking at her, still puzzled.

she knows your trying your best but it’s still fun to poke at you when she can >:)

constructive criticism is appreciated !!!

[blueicequeen19]

Corruption

Warnings: virgin Pogue reader, loss of V, Rafe being manipulative, recording, anal

“Come on. You’re not scared are you?” I smirk against the phone, loving the way her breath hitches on the other end. We’ve played this game of cat and mouse all summer. Me and the sweet, innocent, desperate-for-attention Pogue I just can’t seem to shake. She’s not the prettiest girl on the island but she’s the most fascinating. How can someone so inexperienced be so infuriating and addictive?

“I’m not scared.” She snaps, allowing me to picture her scowl from here.

“Then come outside.”

There’s a pause then I can hear shuffling. The front door of her little shack - house, whatever - opens and she pads down the stairs in her adorable sleep attire with slippers on her feet. She’s glaring at me as she approaches and hangs up the phone as she climbs into my Range Rover.

“Well, you do have some balls. I’ll give you that.” I chuckle, taking a second to drink in the fear that radiates off her. She’s terrified but not one to back down from a challenge. And I plan to challenge her a lot tonight.

“You act like I should be afraid of you.”

“You should be.”

“The same way you’re afraid of my friends?”

That makes me pause, the fury inside me starting to raise to the surface but I push it down.

“I’m not afraid of a bunch of thieves.”

She laughs. Full belly laughs. I like the sound even if she’s laughing at me.

“That’s rich coming from you.” She bites out, making my hand lash out before I can stop myself and snatch her up by her sweet, thin throat. Her eyes bug out for a moment before settling back to their usual scowl. Her nose scrunched like she smells something bad which is impossible because I wear Dior.

“You don’t want to piss me off.” I warn, my voice low. Her scowl doesn’t disappear but she swallows against my palm before pulling back. I let her. She plasters herself against the door as I pull away from her POS excuse of a house and take the gravel road back to the main road.

“Where are we going?” She snaps, crossing her arms and not taking her eyes off me. One of her legs is bent in the seat and I can see the edge of her pink panties out of my peripheral. My cock jerks and I take a deep breath, counting to ten before releasing it.

“For a drive.”

“Obviously. To where, Rafe?” Her sass makes my palm twitch. I’ve never wanted to spank someone before but I’m half tempted to pull over and throw her over my knee and turn that ass red.

“That mouth is going to get you in trouble.” I retort, turning off onto another dirt road and stopping on the edge of the sandy beach about fifteen minutes later. She’s eyeing me, her paranoia settling in.

“I’m not fucking you.” She finally says, after a long moment of peaceful silence. I raise a brow, turning my gaze to her instead of the ocean.

“Okay? I’m not fucking you either.” Her brows shoot up, shock written all over her pretty face.

“Then why am I here, Rafe?” She demands. I don’t hide my amused smirk. I loved getting her riled up.

“You thought I brought you here to fuck?” She doesn’t respond, only glares.

“Honey, if I wanted to fuck you, I would’ve climbed through your bedroom window, put a pillow over your head and fucked you into the mattress while you slept. I wouldn’t have wasted anytime luring you outside and driving all the way out here.” I say. Her eyes widen in fear for a moment before her lip rolls in disgust but her pupils are blown, her nipples are hard, and she’s squeezed her thighs together.

“Trust me, I don’t want to fuck you.” I add, just to confuse her even more because it’s a fucking lie on my end. She turns away, looking out the window as her face softens with confusion. Hurt? A bruised ego? She’s probably thinking how no one wants to fuck the virgin. I do want to fuck her but I want her to beg me to. I could take it but I know she’d give in. She likes to fight me as much as I like for her to.

We sit in silence for a long time while I take hit after hit of my weed pen. She refuses to look at me while she’s all I can focus on. I become irritated by the fact she keeps looking at her phone instead of popping off at me with her smart mouth. I should have all her attention.

Before she can react, I snatch her phone from her fingers and she gasps, lunging for me a moment later. I don’t hold her back as she practically dives onto my lap as I shove my hands behind my back, keeping her phone just out of reach.

“Give it back, jackass.” She growls, pressing her delicious body against me without even realizing it. Her nails rake my arms but I don’t even care.

“Who are you texting?” I ask, sliding her phone in my back pocket while my free hand finds the door handle.

“None of your—.” I throw the door open and dump her on the sand. She ducks in time for me to slam the door back and lock it. I hear her frustrated scream as she jumps to her feet but I’ve already taken her phone out and started reading the texts between her and fucking JJ Maybank.

Her: Would you fuck me if I asked?

JJ: uhhhhhhh.. maybe? Yes. Definitely. Is this you asking?

Her: maybe. I’m just tired of everyone using my virginity as an excuse not to fuck me.

JJ: who doesn’t want to fuck you? Are you talking to someone?

Her: no.

JJ: so this is you asking me to deflower you?

Her: I think so. Where are you right now?

I see red for a moment before I turn to face her. She’s glaring - always glaring - at me from the other side of the window. I shove the door open and she stumbles back, her hair whipping around her face from the wind.

“Give it back.” She snarls, lunging for the phone in my hand. I take the opportunity to wrap my hand around her throat and pocket the phone. I pull her with me as she claws at my hands and wrists while I open the passenger door.

“You want to be fucked so bad? I’ll fuck you. I’ll deflower you then you’ll be free to fuck whoever you want.” She sucks in a breath as she tries to plant her feet but she slides in the sand. I push her down so she bent over the seat and I yank her shorts down in one go. I nearly bust right there seeing the large wet spot on her pink panties.

“Stop. I don’t want you to fuck me.” She bites out, trying to straighten but I shove her back down with a hand to her back.

“Liar. Look how wet you are. I know you’re a virgin but all this pussy juice means you’re turned on.” I cup her from behind and she jerks, a whimper leaving her lips.

“Shut up.” Her voice has lost its bite. She’s breathless now, her thighs trembling.

“No, you shut up. If you want to be corrupted so bad, I’ll corrupt you.” My fingers dive past her panties and into her tight pussy. She cries out, her body dropping down on the seat. I finger her slowly, trying to be gentle but she takes it with ease, pushing back against my hand.

“Greedy little slut.” I tut, keeping back just enough to not tear her hymen. She’s whimpering and moaning, her wetness running down her thighs and coating my hand. It’s enough for my restraint to slip and make me tear my shorts open. I bring my fingers to my mouth, sucking her sweetness off as I line my dick up with my other hand.

“Don’t stop. Please.” She cries, looking back at me over her shoulder. I’ll give in to her this one time. I’ll steal her virginity so no one else can then I won’t give her the time of day. I’ll make her beg for my attention. It’s going to take more than one time to corrupt her but I want her to beg for it. Crave it. I want her helpless for only what I can give her.

I press the tip inside and my eyes nearly cross, my balls drawing up inside me from how hot and tight she is. I grab the door frame to steady myself as I pull back a little and push back in. I swallow the lump in my throat and the overwhelming urge to cum as I pull back out. Then push in again. She’s coating me in her cream already.

“Fucking hell. This is the tightest pussy I’ve ever been in.” I growl, which makes her clench around me. I pull out almost completely and spit on my hand then coat it down my length before pressing back in. We both moan low and long as I push in deeper and deeper. There’s resistance and she tenses.

“Say goodbye to your precious flower.”

I pull out my phone and aim it down as I hit record. I want to relive this moment for the rest of my life. I slam inside and she screams. I don’t give her a moment to adjust, I just keep going. I fuck her hard and fast, her moans echoing loud through the vehicle and making my ears ring. I force one of her legs to bend and place it on the seat, one leg still on the ground as I keep fucking her. I’m even deeper now.

“Cum on my cock. I want to feel you.”

I slide my hand between her thighs and stroke her clit, feeling the moment she cums, screaming my name and gushing all over my cock. I groan, throwing my head back as I finish inside her a moment later. I pull back enough that I can capture my cum trickling back out of her along with a smear of blood then pocket my phone.

God, I hope she’s on something.

“That was—.” She winces when I withdraw and tuck myself away. I run my hand over the indent of my finger nails on her hips and she shudders, goosebumps forming on her skin. I love and hate how responsive she is.

This was supposed to be a game but all I can think about now is burying myself inside her over and over again. I want to see her face when she cums. I want to feel her smart mouth suck my cock. I want to see her tits bounce as she rides me. Now I’m practically pussy whipped.

Then her texts to that fucking Pogue flash through my mind and I’m pissed off all over again. I want all of her first. All. Of. Them. No one else deserves a claim to them. They’re mine.

I spit between her cheeks and she gasps, attempting to sit up and peer over her shoulder at me but I push her back down as I thrust two fingers in her pussy and my thumb to her ass.

“Wait— Rafe— that��s—.” She cuts off on a moan, her pussy pulsing around my fingers as I ease my thumb in her ass. A whimper of pain escapes her so I spit on her ass again. Then again. Lubing her up to take more. She’s so slippery now that I’m able to add a third finger to her pussy and my pointer finger to her ass.

“Dirty fucking slut.” I chuckle darkly as she cums again with a high pitched squeal. I don’t stop fingering her cunt while I work my dick into her ass.

“Rafe, please— no more—.” Her begging is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I’m sure she’s crying but this is what she wanted.

“This is what you wanted. You wanted to be fucked so you’re gonna get fucked.” I bite out, finally reaching halfway into her tight fucking ass. I’m not going to make it. I’m going to cum already.

I start to move slowly and I’m nearly blinded by the sensation. I thought her pussy was otherworldly. I’m barely five pumps in and she’s pushing back against me, begging for more.

“Harder, Rafe. Fuck.” She cries, her entire body trembling as she chases another climax. I growl, digging my fingers into her hips and slam in balls deep. Maybe this girl is built for me. No one else has ever begged like she has. Let alone begged me to fuck their ass harder.

“Cum with me or don’t at all.” I snarl, just before my eyes roll back and I slam in twice more, spilling inside her ass as she clenches and screams her own release. I have to catch myself on the door to keep from falling over as every last bit of cum and energy is drained out of me and she goes limp on the seat.

I pull out and she whimpers but makes no sign of moving anytime soon. I snap a picture of my cum leaking out of both her holes and set it as my Home Screen before tucking myself away and carefully pulling her panties and shorts up.

“You’re going to hurt tomorrow.” I murmur, pulling her up into my arms and her wraps herself loosely around my neck. Her breathing is so shallow I’m worried she’s fallen asleep as I take her over to the front passenger side and put her in the seat. I drop her phone on her lap and climb in the driver seat.

“Thank you.” She says under her breath as I start the drive back to her house.

“Don’t thank me yet,” I chuckle, “We’re just getting started.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Flufftober prompt 10: Gift giving (Kinger)

you can find the prompts here, i think im going to try to make at least one fic for each fandom ive written for! yipee! notes: reader is gn, new established relationship, limited dialogue prompt: kinger finds something that reminded him of you word count: 550 cws: bugs

You hadn't been with Kinger for all that long, at least it didn't feel like it was that long. Time gets hard to keep track of in the circus, something that... admittedly puts you and some of the other members on edge. However, since you've taken Kinger up on being his partner, things like that seem to eat away at him just a little less... not by a lot but he noticeably seems more at ease when he's in your company.

Your company, at the moment, was ecstatically but carefully pushing a box towards you. It wasn't wrapped, but there was a piece of cloth loosely draped over it to hide whatever was inside.

He seemed excited, proud of himself. A lot of his sentences kept rerouting as he tried to communicate what was going on. From what you had gathered from his ramblings, he had found something while out on Caine's most recent adventure. One that you had decided to sit out on due to simply not feeling up to it... Kinger had almost stuck back with you however he didn't have much time to object as Caine sent everyone else on their way.

"It reminded me of you, actually.." He finally said as he folded his hands together and stared at you expectantly, waiting for you to open up the box that was pushed into your hands.

Your mind wandered for a second, trying to guess what it could be. Knowing Caine, the setting could have been anything. Knowing Kinger, you could only think of a few options... Pulling off the fabric, showing that the box had been decorated with various rocks and some fistfuls of dirt. Your eyes immediately focused on the fairly sized beetle. It's back shined in the light, not too different from stained glass candy... for a moment you wondered if the bug actually was made of sugar, the talk that you've heard about that day's adventure seemed to point to that being a real possibility.

"I thought you'd like it," Kinger started, fiddling with his hands. He didn't sound disappointed from your lack of response. "It's pretty..." You said as you lowered your hand into the box, letting the beetle crawl onto your hand. Now that the light could fully reach it's back, it looked more like the candy comparison you had made.

"That's why I picked it," Kinger instantly perked up. You could tell he wanted to talk more about the bug, or at least try to work with you to find out what it was.

You couldn't help but smile. Even if you weren't as big of a fan of bugs as the chess piece, you couldn't shake the thought that not only did he think the insect was beautiful... it had reminded him of you. On top of that, he wanted to work with you to study it... You began to feel bad for skipping out on the adventure, but you quickly shook the feeling away as you put the bug back into its box. The proposal of moving it into a proper container only seemed to send Kinger into a larger spark of pride and excitement.... You'd open the floodgates, but thankfully sleep wasn't mandatory in the digital world.

You'd let him talk for as long as he wanted.

[akai-akai]

okay so I've ranted about my "Simon Riley is a Dork" philosophy, now I bring you...

John MacTavish is a NERD.

I see how he's often pinned as the rambunctious "airhead" of the team, and that may be true to some to degree but he's not STUPID.

Listen, this man is a demolition expert. That involves all kinds of maths, measurements, electrical work, mechanics, technical shit I'm not well-versed in, etc. Demolitions experts have to be pretty damn smart to be considered experts.

I think Johnny was 100% a robotics kid growing up. Maybe even dabbled in coding and mathematics club. I seriously think he was one of the nerdy kids in highschool/secondary school.

And though that part of him is still very much there, it's quieter now. Shrouded by professionalism and experience and maturity. But then, sometimes when he's had a few too many drinks, or if Simon plucks just the right strings, he'll go on these long tangents about the different mathematics, or about this robot he built by hand in highschool by himself in his parents' garage-turned-robotics-lab— the garage lab that he accidentally set on fire and blew up a can of old hairspray his sister had left on his desk. (He totally wasn't using it as a blowtorch to kill some poor unsuspecting bug, his sister just left the spray there and he didn't notice it. That small burn scar on his left hand is completely unrelated.)

And of course, Simon will sit quietly and patiently, watching the way Johnny's eyes light up and his face gets more and more expressive, arms and hands moving wildly, animatedly. He's so passionate, it makes Simon's eyes soften with affection.

And when Johnny's especially focused on the blueprints in front of him during a mission, clock ticking and pressure weighing down on him, he's a sight to behold. Somehow, that's when he works best. Brows pinched, lips pressed in a tight line as his brain works over the details, pieces a plan together as he mutters under his breath, pen scratching on the paper, recites numbers for the other team members to remember. And then his brows smooth out and he gets this giddy look as things click together in his mind and his head snaps up and he gets to work— John knows to let him take the lead here, and quietly notes to himself that John MacTavish would make for a great Captain down the line.

Sometimes when he can't sleep or his mind's a little too loud, he'll sit up at the little desk in his barracks with the dim lamp illuminating a worn-out blue sketchbook, pencil eraser trapped between his teeth as he scans his old notes and sketches and unresolved equations. Mundane math and physics that doesn't take a lot of mental power, but still relaxes him nonetheless.

In addition, he'd be good at sketching. Specifically blueprints and modeling. Dimensional stuff and perspective. Finds a quiet corner somewhere on base— usually that old tree out by the dirt track— and sketches away models, some of which are totally unrealistic but he doesn't care. He'll sketch a giant sci-fi atomic canon model with realistic mathematics and semi-viable science behind it if he wants to.

When he needs to memorize a new model, he'll draw each individual piece, each little working part as if he's dissecting it and mapping it out in his brain. Sometimes when Simon flips through Johnny's sketchbooks, he'll find 10+ pages filled with the same model, over and over, and it's like he can see every thought process, every reasoning, every time Johnny clicks something together in his mind.

Johnny is brilliant. He's a scientist, an expert in his field. He's a total nerd and I love him for it.

(His average shower thoughts are either complex science that would give the average person a migraine, or Simon's eyes. No in between.)

NSFW:

This time, the tables are turned. Johnny will be mid-ride on top of Simon in bed, purposely distracting himself in his mind to hold off his own release (bc it's a competition and he'll be damned if he finishes first) and then suddenly he'll remember a bomb blueprint he was deconstructing the previous day and he'll plop down, sitting up stock straight as he curses and something makes a PING! sound in his brain and suddenly he's leaning over while Simon raises a questioning brow, hands still firmly gripping Johnny's hips as he snatches his notebook and pen from his table side drawer, flops the book unceremoniously on top of Simon's chest, hunches over, and begins writing and muttering to himself.

And Simon just waits, halfway between disgruntled and amused. Just sorta resorts to grinding his hips upward— to which Johnny firmly plants his hips downward, keeping them still, and Simon just sighs and waits some more.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Simon's in love with this idiot, don't let him fool you. I love them a healthy amount.

[qsmpmiraheze]

I managed to find this book and quill set tucked away underneath some dirt in my room. It needed some cleaning, but it’s useable. I’m writing this in hopes that someone will find this, that someone will hear my story, that someone will know, that I was here. I was alive. I’ve been inside this “egg adoption center” for what I can only describe as a long time. I say “a long time” because I’ve long since lost track of the days, they’ve lost any sort of meaning. I was put in here since, at least from what I was told, that my mom, a great dragon, flew away. I don’t have any memories before that point. Ever since then, I’ve been waiting in here, in this room, waiting to be adopted. I was told that a “person” would adopt me. Am I not a person? What does a person look like? This small room is the only home I’ve ever known. I was told that if I ever left on my own, I would never be adopted. So I stayed here. There’s nothing in here. A singular light, which never shuts off, some fences, the walls, the ground, and me. I survived off of whatever bugs managed to scurry in, and the slow dripping of water from above. I hated it, but I could survive off of it. I wanted to be adopted. I wanted to live. I’ve always dreamed of being adopted. Seeing the outside, having a nicer home, not worrying about thirst or hunger, being able to be somebody, meaning something to somebody. It sounds nice. I dream about it in my sleep and daydream about it when I’m awake. Maybe someone will adopt me. I heard a bunch of commotion, seemingly from below me, but then, it disappeared. As if a fire was lit, and then extinguished. I heard something again, then nothing. It’s been a long time since then. Will anyone else ever come? It’s been so long. I’ve tried to keep hope, that’s all I’ve had, hope, but it’s running out. I don’t have much left. This is where I’ve stayed, this is where I survived, but I’ve wanted to get a chance to live. I don’t know if I’ll have that chance. I hope that this isn’t where I die. I want to survive. I want to live. I don’t want to die here. I want to live. If I’m gone by the time that you read this, please know: Please don’t be sad. It’s not your fault. Maybe you just couldn’t see me. Maybe it’s my fault. I would’ve loved to meet you. I would’ve loved to live alongside you. I would’ve loved to mean something to you. Perhaps I won’t get that in this life, but maybe I’ll see you in another? Please know I was here. I was alive. I was somebody. I had hopes, I had ambitions, I had love that I was ready to give. I’ve accepted my fate. But I’m scared of being forgotten. This book gives me a chance to be remembered. Please don’t forget me.

— from Memories, a book found by Cellbit in an abandoned adoption area

[anjelagarrick]

worm

johnny mactavish x reader

summary: you’re a very sleep-deprived insomniac, your boyfriend has to deal with it.

tags: established relationship, sleepy cuddles, fluff, sleepy! johnny, short fic, totally not self indulgent because i can’t sleep rn

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

YOU HUFF LAZILY as you lay awake in your lover’s arms. Insomnia sucked. That’s all you could think in the moment. Johnny, your beloved boyfriend, was half asleep, breathing slow and steady as his muscled arms engulf you, keeping you close to his chest. Slowly, you blink, trying to ease yourself into sleep- yet it never comes. “Johnny, baby.” You mumble, shaking him gently. “Mhhm..” his brows furrow as he pushes his face against the top of your head. “Baby, talk to me.” You whine, voice still quiet as you tap his side. “Wha’s wrong..?” He slurs out, Scottish accent thick with sleep. “Can’t sleep.” You respond, tangling your legs between his as you shuffle even closer. Johnny let’s out a soft noise, kissing your forehead. “What’dya wanna talk about, love?” He questions, eyes barely open.

“Anything. Just wanna sleep.” You sigh, squeezing your boyfriend a little tighter. “Okay…” Johnny exhales slowly, his breath hits your face gently. Seconds soon turn to minutes, and you realise Johnny’s dozing off again. You smile a little, kissing his lips gently. Your boyfriend hums, kissing back lazily as he nuzzles closer. You stay silent for a little while, hand rubbing his back as you ponder about anything to talk about. “Baby,” you begin, listening to him hum in acknowledgement. “Would you rather… kiss a hundred frogs, or never kiss me again?” You question, watching his brows furrow. “Wha..?” He asks, exhaling slowly after. “Kiss a hundred frogs, or never kiss me again, choose one.” You smile at his confused expression. “Kiss a hundred frogs.” He mutters after a beat of silence. “Aw.” You croon, kissing him gently. “Okay, lover boy. Would you rather…” you trail off, thinking for a moment. “Quit your job or… quit nights out?” You smile, knowing he’d have a tricky time answering that one considering he loved both. “Oof… uh, quit nights out?” Johnny responds, voice more quiet as he’s still tired. “Your turn.” You nudge him gently, watching him swipe at his eyes before blinking a few times to look at you.

“Alright…” he responds, looking around your shared room in the base for anything to provide inspiration. “Would you rather not cure your insomnia, or sleep for a hundred years?” He asks teasingly. “Hmm… so if I chose to not cure my insomnia I be able to see you?” You ask, he nods a little; cheeky smile on his lips. “Hmm… then i’d have to not cure my insomnia. I wouldn’t want to be in a cruel, boyfriend-less world.” You giggle, kissing him. “Alright, alright.” Johnny nods, adjusting his hold on you. “Would you rather… eat Gaz’s cooking, or eat four bugs of your choice?” He asks, that grin spreading even more. “Oh, I’d eat Gaz’s cooking, I wouldn’t be able to eat bugs.” You laugh, he nods. “Fair enough, but i’d take the bugs just to be safe.” He jokes, sharing a laugh with you.

A few moments of silence pass by, you’re trying to see if you can sleep easier, yet no matter how hard you tried; you couldn’t. “Johnny.” You pat his back once more. “Yeah, baby?” He responds, voice much more sleepy now. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” You smile, kissing his cheek. “A worm?” He repeats, brows knitting together. “Yeah, a worm.” You nod, pushing your face into his neck. “Like one that lives in the dirt or a different type of worm?” Johnny asks you, you laugh. “What other types of worms are there? Yes, a dirt-dwelling worm.” You respond, fingers massaging his back. “Hmm… it’d be tough but, yeah. I’d still love you, as long as you still knew it was me.” Johnny nods, arms squeezing you more firmly. “Would you fight all the other worms for me?” You giggle softly, hand slipping under his shirt so your fingertips could trace lines up and down his back.

“I’d fight all the worms for you, baby.” Johnny yawns, kissing your ear gently. “I’d fight people for you. I’d kick ass as a worm.” You respond, listening to a chuckle rumble through your boyfriend’s chest. Slowly, you begin to yawn, sleep finally beginning to pull at you. “You’d be a very badass worm, love. I’d get you a little helmet and vest so you could come with on missions.” Johnny smiles, moving your leg over his hip to cradle you closer. “Sweet.” You grin, leaning your weight against your boyfriend as your eyes finally begin to close. “Dozing off?” He asks, tone sweet. “Mhm… thanks, baby.” You respond, hand slowly stopping upon Johnny’s back as you grow more and more sleepy. “Of course, love.” He replies, kissing your head. “Love you, Johnny.” You purr, smiling sweetly as he takes a soft breath. “I love you more, even if you were a worm.”

[moonstruckme]

Camping

summary: the wilderness favors James over you, but it does have some redeeming qualities

cw: mentions of blood, minor injury

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.6k words

Camping hadn’t sounded like such a bad idea last weekend, when James had suggested it. You aren’t a naturally outdoorsy person, but you loved the idea of getting him all to yourself for a couple of days, and what could be more romantic than frolicking through the forest together, the soft light of a campfire, and sleeping under the stars? 

Frolicking, you think sardonically, slapping your cheek in yet another attempt to nail the mosquito that has been trailing you for the past hour, slowly sucking you dry. You could not possibly have been more naive in your imaginings of what camping would entail. Your legs hurt, your supposedly practical shoes are starting to chafe on your ankles, and you’re unsure if the back of your neck is itching from bug bites (completely undeterred by the bug spray you’d applied at the car, by the way) or your ceaseless sweating. You feel tired, and sticky, and sore. 

“Oh, look!” James calls from a few paces ahead of you. “There’s a river up here.” 

You try not to resent him in times like this, but there’s something seriously unjust about how easily your boyfriend has taken to the wilderness. You suppose it simply boils down to one fact: James loves the world, and it loves him right back. A light sheen of sweat has him glistening in the sunlight, his muscled legs effortlessly navigating the landscape, and the breeze has tousled his curls just so as to make hair stylists worldwide mad with envy. He even seems to be getting a tan, whereas you’re strapped into what he calls your “sexy hat”—a beige, floppy thing with vents and a chin fastening—to avoid a sunburn. 

You push ahead on shaky legs until you’re beside James, looking at what appears to you to be more of a creek, or a stream maybe, than a river. 

“Nice,” you say, smiling with all the enthusiasm you can muster. “Wanna go for a swim?”

“Uh, absolutely,” James says, and you suspect he was only waiting for you to ask so it’d be your idea. He sets off for the water, discarding his backpack a few feet away and all but diving in. You follow more warily, not loving the idea of a fish or some other mysterious river dweller brushing up against you, but the prospect of cool, flowing water washing the dirt and sweat from your legs has you stepping out of your shoes and wading in. 

James grasps your hands to keep you from stumbling as you approach him in the middle of the stream. The water here comes up almost to the hems of your shorts, and you’re considering tossing your clothes to the shore if it means you can experience this icy relief all over your body. 

“This is fun, yeah?” James grins, and your heart contracts guiltily as you realize you may not have been as covert with your dissatisfaction as you’d thought. It’s not James’ fault the outdoors doesn’t treat you as kindly as it seems to treat him, and you have no intention of ruining what should be a perfect trip for him. 

“Yeah, it is.” You return his smile, bracing your hands on his shoulders and standing on tiptoe to kiss him. 

He returns your efforts with gusto, pressing his mouth to yours so ardently you have to take a tiny step back to keep your balance, and a sharp pain goes through your heel. 

You gasp, almost biting James’ lip as you rear back. 

“What?” he asks, instantly concerned, and you grip his shoulders tightly, hopping around awkwardly on one foot. 

“I don’t know.” Your foot stings, the water ripping at it even as you do your best to keep it motionless. “I think I stepped on something.”

James curses. “You aren’t wearing water shoes?”

“I don’t own water shoes,” you cry. 

“Okay, sorry,” he says, both of you speaking more sharply than you’d prefer. “Alright, let’s get out.” He picks you up with strong arms under your knees and shoulders, and you can easily blame it on the pain if you swoon a bit as he carries you to the rocky shore, setting you down gingerly. 

You curl your wounded foot close to you, a puddle of watery red already forming on the rock beneath you. There’s a piece of glass stuck in the skin of your heel, soft and already slightly wrinkled from the water, and it’s panic more than hurt that has invisible fingers closing in a suffocating grip around your throat. 

“You’re okay,” James says, watching you with his own barely-leashed panic swimming in his eyes. “Can I have a look?”

You nod, letting him take your ankle cautiously and bring your tender foot onto his lap. You make a small sound of protest at the blood you’re getting on his shorts, but he shushes you, gripping the protruding piece of glass between his fingernails. 

“I’m gonna take it out, okay? Then we can clean it.” He looks at you for approval, and all you can do is nod again before he’s removed the intruder from your heel and your blood is flowing even faster. You hiss at the pain and in mourning for the stain that will certainly never come out of James’ poor shorts. “Aw, I’m sorry, angel,” James coos, grabbing antiseptic spray you had no idea he’d brought from his backpack. He makes short work of cleaning and covering your wound, and even kisses your gross, river-scented foot when he’s done, though the comically small band-aid covering the cut really puts things into perspective for you. 

You’re doing your best to rally the gung-ho attitude you’ll need to get through the rest of this trip when James says, “I know it’s early, but you probably won’t be able to walk much on that for a little while. Want to go ahead and set up camp at that clearing we passed earlier?” and frankly, the idea of this ordeal being over with for the night is too good to pass up. 

“Sure,” you say, trying to feign some reluctance, and he kisses you on the forehead before hauling you up. 

You’re grateful for James’ selfless character (and his sturdy frame) as he lets you lean some of your weight on him, in addition to the not-insignificant weight of his backpack, while you limp the fifteen minutes to the clearing. He takes the tent from his pack as soon as he’s set everything down, unrolling it and placing the first stake at a corner. 

“Here,” you crawl over, taking the mallet from him. “I can do that.” 

James gives you a look like you’ve sprouted a second head. “No,” he says, taking the mallet back from you and starting to hammer in the stake himself, “you’re hurt.”

You can’t help it; you laugh. “Jamie, a cut in my foot hardly keeps me from using my arms.”

He only shakes his head at you. “You just rest, sweetheart. I’ve got it.” 

You consider protesting further, but he seems serious, and eventually you simply shrug, scooting into a patch of shade to watch him work. If your boyfriend wants to do all the hard work, far be it for you to prevent him.

And as the evening goes on, James actually does insist on doing everything for you. He sets up the tent, builds the fire, heats your dinner, and even fashions a little cushion for you to sit on out of a spare blanket. You argue that you’re not all of a sudden made of glass when he won’t let you roast your own marshmallow, but James won’t hear it, and soon you’re lying on the cool ground, using your blanket cushion to pillow your head and looking at the stars. 

“We can start back to the car as soon as we wake up tomorrow,” James says over the chirping of crickets and croaking of frogs, his head just a few inches from yours. “I’m sure you want to be in your own bed.”

“What?” You push up onto your elbow, looking down at him in disbelief. “No, I’ll be okay to walk tomorrow.” You’re fairly sure you were okay to walk today. “Don’t cut the trip short on my account.” 

James only looks at you glumly. “Sweetheart, you weren’t having any fun today. You were miserable, and then you got hurt.” His brows scrunch like even the memory is agonizing for him. “I don’t want to make it worse by having you walk on it all day tomorrow.”

You’re officially the worst girlfriend in the world. James had been looking forward to this all week, and as soon as you’d gotten here, you’d made no secret of how little you were enjoying yourself. “James, I’ll be fine,” you promise. “I was being a wimp today, and now I know what to do to make it easier for myself.” More bug spray, to start with. You sigh, laying your head on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to spoil your good time. Let me try again tomorrow, okay?” 

“You’re sure?” You can’t see James’ face, but there’s no mistaking the hope in his voice. 

“Positive. You’re so sweet for offering to go home, though.” You tilt your head up until your lips find his, the kiss short and sweet. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t want my girl to have a bad time,” James says, sitting up and pulling you with him so he can kiss you more fully. He casts a forlorn look at your foot. “My poor, injured girl.” 

You grin, bringing your unscathed leg around to straddle his lap. “Not so injured I can’t do anything,” you remind him.

James’ eyebrows rise, his lips slowly curving upward. “Oh, yeah?” he croons, pulling you closer by your waist. “I mean, if you’re sure, sweetheart. But the sexy hat is going to have to stay on."

[sw124]

Cult of the Lamb: The Ewe AU

Sweet Dreams

“I’m tellin’ ya she’s weird!”

Escher’s gaze was not on the two members but his ears were, he wasn’t the type to eavesdrop but given these two were being a bit loud he couldn’t help but listen in. “You talkin about the new girl right? The one hanging around the Ewe?”

“Who else?! She follows the Ewe all day, I’m surprised the leader hasn’t sacrificed her. The way she hangs off her like that is kinda suspicious.”

Yeah that had to be Casper, the old unicorn was always suspicious of new members. Though Escher had to admit he was right about one thing, the new girl’s constant need to be near the Ewe was a bit..off-putting. But then again it wasn’t just the Ewe she hung around, Escher saw her around Shamura and Leshy too; not to mention he also spent some time with the newcomer. She was..honestly a nice person to be around, but he also knew that looks could be deceiving.

“I bet ya she’s hangin round Ewe cause she thinks it’ll get her in good with the leader, fat chance! The Ewe’s too nice to turn the freak down but I’m sure high priest Narinder will put the bug in’er place!”

Ok Escher heard enough, picking up his basket of radishes he walked towards the storehouse. Casper always ran his mouth, the Lamb was a very merciful person and would always sense if someone had ill intentions for others. That was one of the things that made him godly in the first place, besides everyone had their odd quirks. Leshy liked to cause mischief sometimes, Kallamar was always the center of attention with the ladies in the cult, Shamura tended to ramble and Heket always glared. So who was Casper to judge-

“Good afternoon Escher~” Well speak of the devil, there she was. “Hey Mamu, you as well.”

Mamu, the newcomer had only arrived seven days ago yet already seemed to make herself perfectly at home in the cult. It was normal that the Ewe kept a distance from new people when they arrive but…when Ewe met Mamu for the first time, the natural shyness seemed to vanish. It was only the second day before the newcomer was sitting by the Ewe in the fields chatting with her casually.

“Need any help?” Asked Mamu, motioning to the basket.

Escher chuckled. “Nah I’m fine, hope ya don’t mind me asking but whatcha doing over here. I thought you’d be hanging out with the Ewe.”

“She’s with Narinder at this time, I rather not disturb them. Besides, I was hoping to bump into ‘you’ today.”

“Me?” Escher blinked, Mamu nodded. “Yes you see, it’s about your friend Leshy…he’s been having trouble sleeping as of late hasn’t he?”

Escher’s ear twitched, well yes it was true in a way…Leshy was sleeping but he wasn’t getting enough of it. Leshy was suffering from a steady stream of night terrors, however Leshy didn’t want anyone to know about it…especially his siblings. He flinched feeling a hand on his shoulder, turning he found Mamu giving him a knowing smile. “Easy my friend, I’m aware this isn’t something to be discussed openly. I have a remedy to help quell this ailment of his if you wish to know it, I assure you this does not go against the teachings of the Lamb.”

Um…well that was nice, though Escher felt a hint of worry at the last part. But before he could answer Mamu had her arm wrapped around his an proceeded to pull him towards the communal kitchen.

“W-Whoa wait! Why are we going to the kitchen?!”

“The treatment requires a few ingredients, I assure you it’s quite easy to make!”

————————————

[Later that night]

Things were getting worse, Leshy knew this as he scrubbed his fur. The gentle stream of lukewarm water pouring over his shoulders, washing away the dirt of the day and the soap. He was..developing a fear of his own bed, of sleep…casue he knew that the moment he entered the land of dreams…the horde of lambs would be there. Waiting for him, glowing eyes, streams of blood, their cries threatening to make him deaf, their hands grasping at him, pulling him down into-

“Leshy, You in there?”

He flinched but relaxed, it was just Escher. “Yeah, I’ll be done in a sec.”

“Yer fine, I washed up by the river. I got a surprise for you, just meet me in the bedroom ok?” There was a pregnant pause before Leshy responded.

“O…Okay?”

Bedroom and surprise…those were two words that never came out of Escher’s mouth in the same sentence since they started living together. Curiosity was getting the better of him (or something else he wasn’t sure) but he was quick to finish washing up. The images that ran through his head didn’t really help either…a particular memory came to him involving the Lambs wedding and a so called ‘tradition’ involving a gaurder belt. He still thought the Lamb was messing with him…

To his relief (or disappointment) he found Escher sitting on the edge of the bed in his usual pajamas…holding two mugs of something.

“Whats that?”

“Something Mamu taught me to make, she calls it ‘milk tea’ with honey. She told me it helps you relax, here.” Escher handed one of the mugs over to Leshy who stared at it..well sort of.

His clawed fingers gently felt around the mug, he felt the warmth radiate from the sides. Helped him gage the temperature of the drink itself, the smell …oh it was divine. He could smell the milk, there was also lavender in it…and the honey. He recognized that scent almost immediately.

Leshy gave a playful smirk. “Mamu let you have someone of her honey stash didn’t she?”

Escher chuckled. “She gave me some honey candy yeah, showed me how to melt them down for the drinks.” Leshy could feel the smile on his boyfriend’s face, well if he waited too long the drink would get cold.

He blew over the top of it to cool it down just a touch before taking a tentative sip, it all it took before he was chugging the drink down. It tasted divine! Warm, smooth with just a hint of sweetness thanks to that honey. After the first few gulps he started feeling…odd, his body grew almost…heavy in a way. The best thing he could compare it to was during a small flood last month and filling bags of sand, moving them when they were wet was so hard but…he felt just like those very bags.

Credit where credit was due, this stuff was working like a charm. Escher joined his companion and could feel the same affects, he drank his a bit slowly. He wanted to savor the taste of it, but even he couldn’t hold back after a while and gulped down the rest of it. Looking over at Leshy, he was flopped back on the bed. Robe…partly opened by his chest…Escher blushed. Leshy hadn’t put on his pants yet!

Well that was fixed after a minute when Leshy reached for them, took him a minute to slip them on but he managed. “So…Mamu taught ya this huh?”

“Yeah..funny thing is when she was making this…I actually got to learn she’s married!”

Leshy turned to him. “Wait….shes married?”

“Yeah, shes got two husbands apparently. Calls them…Gruff and Ruff, says they’re her pet names for them.”

“Huh…that…makes sense.”

Escher blinked. “Whats that?”

“Fer a while I wondered why she was so close to the Ewe, hearing how she’s married to two guys..makes sense now.” He wasn’t wrong, if only Escher knew this earlier he’d rub it in ol’Casper’s face.

No, had to focus! Escher recalled what Mamu told him next, he gently reached over and rubbed his hand along Leshy’s head.

“We better get some sleep, c’mon.”

If it weren’t for the drink Leshy would’ve been groaning, however the dread was still there. He crawled to his side of the bed while Escher took his..he heard him blow out the candle. The moment Leshy’s head touched his pillow…he felt Escher’s arms wrap around him in a soft embrace. Before he could ask what he was doing….he felt his boyfriend’s lips by his ear…

Whispering.

“Once I had a flock of sheep, they grazed upon a feather. I keep them in a music box from wind and rainy weather~”

Escher….was singing? Leshy never heard him sing before, he wanted to ask why but….huh…he….he has such a pretty voice. It’s soft, just like the pillow..and the blankets…

“An everyday the sun would shine they fly off through the town, to bring me back some golden rings, candy by the pound. Sing Terry-O Day, sing autumn to may~”

Despite the heavy feeling in his entire body Leshy managed to turn towards his beloved, his arms snaking their way around him; reciprocating the embrace.

Escher continued singing. “Oh once I had a downy swan, she was so very frail. She sat upon an oyster shell and hatched me out a snail~”

Leshy began to drift, drift further into sleep. Still Escher’s voice could be heard, despite the growing softness. Even so, sleep was taking hold of his beloved as well, his voice growing ever more quiet.

Still he sang, his voice so quiet it felt like he was saying a prayer. “The snail it turned into a bird, a bird to butterfly…and he tells a bigger tale will have to…tell a lie. Sing Terry-O Day…….sing…..Autumn….to….May~”

The last verse sent them both tumbling into their respective dreams, despite the growing fear inside…Leshy was greeted by a field of green. Bathed in a silver hue of morning mist, he looked around to see his family..his brothers and sister all happily meandering about. Kallamar with his plethora of suitors, Shamura wandering among the grounds, Heket talking to that one lion fellow and…..

“Uncle Leshy!”

Turning, two little figures came bounding twoards him. One with her arms stretched out wide, the other leaning forward as he ran. Both leaping up and tackling him to the ground, he was laughing before he knew what exactly was going on. Of course he could recognize his niece and nephew from mountains away! They proceeded to try and pin him down as he fought back, but was subdued remarkably quick.

“Oh no! Defeated by my brother’s own brood, what cruel irony!” Laughed Leshy, the twins ran off before he could get a chance to take his so called ‘revenge’ on the two.

Turning over he watched the two rush over to their mother…sitting on a blanket, her soft shadowy eyes trained on her two little ones. The Lamb laying on their back while Narinder stood over watching the twins run to their mother, Leshy sat up on his knees and looked out around him…everything felt…almost-

“Leshy, you just gonna sit there?”

His head spun around, standing over him….was Escher. He was wearing a smile so warm it’d make a kindling fire feel like ice. In a flash, Leshy found his arms wrapped around his beloved yellow cat. The two falling into the soft grass, laughing as they cuddled against the grass.

———————————

[Next morning]

Credit where credit was due, Mamu’s treatment worked! Escher never seen Leshy so well rested before. He was bounding around the farmlands with Belle and Beau like he was a child himself, he was also…extra friendly in the morning too. Trying to get dressed that morning proved to be a challenge when his beloved’s claws kept tickling his sides, he was just so happy it worked.

“Well, someone looks well rested.” Came a sing-song voice.

Speak of the devil.

“Mamu!” Escher stood up and embraced the newcomer, hoping she didn’t mind the dirt. Picking radishes was dirty work after all. “Good morning! An yes, oh yes very well rested! Your treatment worked, Leshy and I never had such a wonderful night sleep before!”

She giggled. “I’m happy to hear that, though it’s quite obvious to see if I’m being honest.”

Well she wasn’t wrong, the way Leshy was running around and how he himself was working was kind of-

“Dreams with silver mist are always the purest of course.”

Escher froze for a second before turning to the newcomer in question, all she did was smile…and walk away humming the lullaby she taught him…before she was too far away she turned back with a cheeky smile and said.

“Good day friend, an sweet dreams.”

End

This AU belongs to @rampantram the Ewe is their oc

The song is “Autumn to May” by Peter, Paul & Mary. This was actually inspired by another fanfic series by the writer @aughtpunk who uses the same song in their story, please go have a read.

Mamu is my oc.

This is her general page but I will do a colt version of her soon

[yiiyiiwrites]

younger brother jj maybank?🫶

Hope I got this right and writing how younger brother JJ is? (If not send in another request) :)

🐊Younger brother JJ Maybank

Five year old JJ:

- Sneaks into your room and you find him curled up under your sheets fast asleep.

- Normally wakes up early on schooldays and wriggles into your bed going back to sleep. Which always makes you two late. “Why didn’t you wake me J?” Mismatched socks and your t-shirt inside out as you put most of your attention on getting JJ ready.

- Dragging him all the way to school because he doesn’t want to go and you wish you didn’t have to go either.

- Wakes you up super early on the weekends as he wants to spend as much time as he can with you. Pokes your cheek till you wake up.

- Follows you around the house, you joke that he’s your shadow.

- You try to get him out of the house a lot, so you spend a most of your time looking for bugs. JJ’s definitely picked a snake up with a twig. Gator watching.

Pre-teen JJ (9-12):

- By this time you’re already juggling school and a part time job. So JJ leaves snacks in your room, hidden under your pillow.

- Spends a lot of time at John B’s and the Pogues. Always asks if you want to go as well so that you don’t have to deal with your dad. (You always say no).

- More mischievous…knows how to work his way out of anything. So you find that he doesn’t need your help all the time. But it’s more him trying to worry you less by not telling you.

- Lots of pranks when your dad’s not home. Fake snake in your bed.

- Competitive little shit. Who can down their drink faster, whoever loses has to clean up. Who can do more push ups? You don’t even try.

Teen JJ (13-19):

- He’s now taller than you and he reminds you all the time.

- Argued with you when you dropped out of school. You’re supposed to be the smart one.

- Does wake you up before he goes to school, waits till last minute as he wants you to get the most sleep you can before your work shift. Calls you if he slept at the chateau, he jokes that he’s your alarm clock.

- Warns you when your dads in a bad mood and when to steer clear of the house.

- Dodges you for days, so that he doesn’t have to explain how he got in a fight with the Kooks again. He can’t lie to you.

- Texting you to check in, but it’s more because he knows you’ll worry about him. He also likes to make sure you’re alright.

- Kooks giving you trouble? He’s in their face and he doesn’t hear it from you. Mad that he had to hear from someone else as he’s now capable to look out for you, like you did when he was younger. “You need to tell me, I look out for you just like you do for me.”

- If you’re seeing anyone, JJ checks them out to see if they’re are nice and tries to get any dirt on them.

- You’re the one he calls first if he needs help.