#from robin to scarlet
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
the colours of the sisters' path inside grandma's house
#from robin to scarlet#the path#the path 2009#the path tale of tales#the path game#indie horror#the path grandma#robin red#rose red#ginger red#ruby red#carmen red#scarlet red
156 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Reblog and put in the tags what you called the BoB Boys before you learned their names
#i'll go first#Nixon was âguy from office spaceâ#Bull was âAbraham from Walking Deadâ#Malarkey was âWill Scarlet from Russell Crowe's Robin Hoodâ#Luz was ânot Sam Rockwellâ#Baaaabbbeee was ânot Joe Mazzelloâ#Johnny Martin was ânot Nick Krollâ#Webster was ânot Paul Ruddâ#I think that's all of them#everyone else was just kinda âthat guyâ until we learned the names lmao#Band of Brothers#Band of Brothers meme#hbo#hbo war#easy company
44 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Patrick Troughton - billed as Pat - helps the stricken French nobility (and flashes the audience) as Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, a staunch ally of the title character in The Adventures of the Scarlet Pimpernel (ITP, 1955 - 1956)
#fave spotting#patrick troughton#the adventures of the scarlet pimpernel#doctor who#classic doctor who#two#itp#itc#1955#I've had a nice rhythm going lately with pairing a 50 min series (usually The Saint these daysâ tho not for much longer...) with a shorter#25 min one to dip into when I've less time or whatever. with The Adventurer over (adieu and farewell Gene Bradley you insane#multi talented everything) i thought I'd change it up a little and go for a much earlier itc series for a different tone. so early in fact#that they weren't even ITC yet; the company was then known as the Incorporated Television Programme Companyâ ITP for shortâ but be not#fooled; this is in every way the Lew Grade led company that would come to dominate the commercial tv world in the decades to follow#The Adventures of Robin Hood is usually identified as the first ITC production but in fact it beat this series to the screen by only#3 days and the two shows were presumably in production simultaneously. Hood went on to be the making of ITC and Lew Grade and lasted#a whopping 143 episodes over 4 years; Pimpernel made it to only 18 despite being planned as a 39 part series (standard length for these#early itc shows). exactly what went wrong i dont know; Goring was heavily involved in production as well as starring and maybe that played#a partâ or maybe the popular success of Hood meant this show was no longer affordable. idk im just speculating but from#what I've seen it's fairly fun. starting on ITV just a week after the network commenced transmissionâ it's safe to say this didn't capture#the public imagination like Hood did and it does seem to have been rather forgotten about. Pat is actually a series regular and these#pics come from a few different eps among the first few. he isn't in the very first (nor is the Pimpernel's other faithful companion#played by Anthony Newlands) and i do wonder if that was a pilot (it has Robert Shaw as the Pimpernel's right hand and to my#knowledge he doesn't reappear; he'd make up for it with a starring role in one of ITC's next seriesâ The Buccaneers#but yes he's here and he's fantastic and gets to be dashing and heroic (tho never moreso than Goring of course). he's also the one of the#three heroes who best suits the powdered hair look (Newlands looks quite unfortunate). and of course i know what im doing with that#last shirtless pic.. you're welcome Pat girlies (gender neutral)#maybe I'll make another post after I've seen a few more eps but i wasn't going to commit to a Pat post for every episode im afraid
63 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Me, trying to write a sanguine: What would Chester Arthur do?
#the brainstorming of the arateph rapunzel retelling has me musing over camreth's character again (which has always been tough to nail down)#i've always known he had a very strong sanguine temperament#but as an introvert with a heavy melancholic streak i had a tough time wrapping my head around it#specifically how to reconcile his cheerfulness with his intense survivor's guilt#and today i was reminded of chester arthur and the fact that he was a sanguine#and it was super helpful actually#the guy dealt with some devastating losses (specifically his wife)#he had big emotions (i think camreth would have better self-control)#but then he'd just keep doing things and making friends and distracting himself#i'm also expanding camreth's character by considering some scarlet pimpernel and robin hood connections#he's not just a terrified fugitive hiding from all eyes#he's got a bit of a con artist side#a touch of the trickster#a friendliness that can charm people so they don't question him too closely#perhaps some joy in the art of disguise#which is helpful as i try to imagine how he survives when he's not inside zemma's tower#but the chester arthur connection is the funniest and most out-of-the-blue#adventures in writing#arateph
7 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Two hours in, one hour left
(My art assessment for this module)
#art#artwork#digital art#artists on tumblr#bird art#bird#robin#???#idk what bird#I chos it because it looked closest to flapjack out of what I had to choose from#I know flapjackâs a cardinal but those werenât there#scarlet tanager#tanager#birds#painting#block paint#watercolour#art assessment
15 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Started reading Lymond Chronicles after @deadendtracks' comment that SK must've read them too / based Tommy on Lymond....
and like i'm what, at ch3 or 4 maybe and...
yeahhhhhhhhhh XD
#i don't mind what crimes i commit as long as they've got a sensible purpose#johnnie the offsider gypsy#by god i'll give you one night to remember the head of your family by (says the elder brother)#also vaguely robin hood ish / will scarlet etc#i do like the very very different prose (same affection for it that i had for the different prose in the Witcher books)#the purple proseness of description which somehow is still very sparing (no long descriptive paragraphs just 1-2 thick sentences) versus#the intense vernacular used in dialogue. i am mildly over the homogenisation of the 'no style' style in current sf/fan genres#the interesting thing is how Dunnett herself in the a/n says how she was trying to craft a certain persistent masculine trope/character#not her exact words but this undercurrent 'Type' of criminal out there#and tommy and lymond (class difference aside) sit in that space#the other thing i think tho.did SK do it from the beginning or did he start to lean harder into that after seeing CM in S1#I feel certain routes/themes wouldn't have worked with a different kind of actor and later seasons built more and more on CM's strengths#like the descent into S5/S6 imagery and the sheer symbolic/poetic language wouldn't have worked with statham at all...if it ever got there#tim mielants to steven knight while contemplating cm ordinarily drinking his coffee 'he has become the embodiment of my brothergrief'
13 notes
¡
View notes
Text
red hood/arsenal #7
i do enjoy how often jason keeps collecting these sad disfigured villain girls like heâs the batman for joker-adjacent victims
#red hood/arsenal 2015#robin war#like youâre telling me jokers daughter is a DIFFERENT GIRL from scarlet????? wild#jokerâs daughter#duela dent#roy harper#jason todd#ggw liveblog
18 notes
¡
View notes
Text
and if I'm spending my free time brainstorming pokemon teams for the ghosts? that's my business.
#anyone have ideas for typing..#I feel like robin should be electric for the bit#but idk if electric pokemon fit him.#ground?#ground feels more right#kitty is fairy and psychic#thomas strikes me as flying idk why#like. birds.#and I really want cap to be bug#but I also can totallllly see him having uhhh what's that old dog from scarlet/violet#anyway#bbc ghosts
8 notes
¡
View notes
Text
-
#im NOT gonna draw similarities between rooster from tgm and will scarlet from robin hood prince of thieves IM NOT GONNA#just saying theres something there thats all
2 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Little John - Aren't you man-
Robin - Oh, no need to resort to 'aren't you a manly man' type insults, I'm already fixing up a stick to fight you with.
Scarlet - *plays lute*
Little John - Play a more lively tune for me to kick your friends butt to.
Scarlet - ^_^ Okay.
Robin - I get no respect these days.
#kitkatt0430 watches#the adventures of robin hood#incorrect quotes#little john - your robin of locksley? i'm glad i fell in with you.#scarlet - i think he did the falling in#robin - respect from one of you? I'll take it good enough
1 note
¡
View note
Text
We Thought You Died?!
Billy became a hero in 1959, and he was a hit. He was extremely popular. Captain Marvel was a beloved hero. As for the Squadron of Justice? They were beloved too. They, plus Captain Marvel were the superheroes of that time. They were the flipping blueprint for being a hero, especially Captain Marvel. Then the bubble formed in 62, and they just disappeared off the face of the earth and everyone thought he died.
Then, out of nowhere, they just reappeared.
News channel: *showing a clip of Marvel*
Grandson: *tugs on Grandmaâs sleeve* âGrandma, that looks like the hero guy the teacher are making us learn about.â
Grandma: âAmazing. He looks just like the real thing.â
Yeah⌠People didnât really believe it at first. Though, to be fair, all the Fawcett heroes have been gone for over sixty years.
Old Man: âItâs disrespectful is it what is. Just because you have the same powers doesnât mean you can dress up as a dead hero.â
Old Woman: â I just feel bad for the families. To see someone dress up as your dead husband or wife and then go around pretending to be them? Disgraceful.â
It was then the Justice League got involved. They really couldnât have these people running around like this. Not only that, but some of the imposters are lethal. Not to mention that there are people in the Justice League who used to know the Fawcett heroes. They were friends with them for Christâs sake. So thatâs why unanimously, they went and confronted these guys.
Supes: *hovering over Fawcett*
Marvel: *helps a cat out of a tree and sees him so he flies up*
Supes: *disapproving look* âI hope you know that if youâre trying to be a herââ
Marvel: âOh my gods, your suit is awesome!â
Supes: âThank youâŚ?
Marvel: âAre you a new hero? Whatâs your name? Are you from Fawcett or are you gonna join us here?â
Supes: *computing, still stuck on the first question*
Meanwhile, Flash and Minuteman were arguing which then somehow spiraled into them getting tacos. Batman and Robin, and Mister Scarlet and Pinky are just fighting. And Bulletgirl and Wonder Woman had a civil conversation that actually got them a lot of information.
After sorting out the entire misunderstanding that they were all imposters, things thankfully got lighter.
Marvel: âOh my gods, Jay, youâre an old man! What happened to your long luscious locks of beautiful brown hair?â
Barry: *holding back a laugh* âLong luscious locks?â
Jay: âOkay, it was not long, luscious, or beautiful. He just insists on calling it that to embarrass me.â
Marvel: âBut itâs true! Or it was true.â
Jay: âNo it wasnât. I had perfectly average hair, thank you very much.â
Yeah, Billy met up with some of his old friends, and they were all ecstatic to see their eight feet tall, golden retriever who just wanted to make the world a better place.
Marvel: âSo your not an hero anymore? Then what happened to the JSA?â
Alan Scott (First Green Lantern): âWe disbandedâŚâ
Marvel: âWHAT? Why?â
Alan: âWell, we were getting old. We needed to retire.â
Marvel: âOh yeah.â *sounds a little bummed*
Alan: âI mean, thereâs now this thing called the Justice League? Wildcat joined them. So did Mr. Terrific.â
Marvel: âThat sounds like a ripoff of you guys!â
He joins anyways. So do the other Fawcett heroes cause they might as well. Thatâs when things go down hill once more because the JL are forced to remember that a couple Fawcett heroes, mostly Spy Smasher, kill people.
Batman and Spy Smasher: *tied up the Joker after beating up his goons*
Spy Smasher (SS): âAlright, letâs get out of here.â *pulls out a gun and puts it to the Jokerâs forehead*
Batman: âWhat are you doing?â
SS: âIâm ending thisâŚ?â *cocks his gun*
Batman: *slaps the gun away* âNo, youâre not. Heâs going back to Arkham.â
SS: *pulls another gun out* âYes, I am. Are you seriously telling me you donât want to permanently end this guy? Iâve heard people call him a terrorist.â
The two then duked it out and the Joker still went back to Arkham anyways. Spy Smasher was so salty, not that literally anyone could blame him.
Marvel: âWait, so people donât kill villains anymore?â
SS: *sitting next to him, bandaged*
Wildcat: âNope. Nowadays, you got to turn them into the police and let them break out again. I know itâs stupid.â
Marvel: âBut what about the mass murderers? What about the Black Adams or the Captain Nazis? People who have done messed up stuff?â
Wildcat: âTo jail they go. Why do you care anyways? Itâs not like you killed any of your villains.â
Marvel: âWell, I didnât, but I gotta ask because Smasher is trying so hard not to physically claw off his own skin at the thought of these guys just breaking back out.â
Safe to say, getting used to the modern world, took some getting used to for everyone. As for Billy, he chills with the gang at the old folks home, reminiscing about times as if heâs aged with them.
Also, like, genuinely, their disappearance would show up in top ten unsolved mysteries vids because genuinely, they just disappeared with no trace.
Billy also doesnât know what to think of the many memorials he finds of himself and the other Fawcett heroes around the country.
#billy batson#dc captain marvel#shazam#captain marvel dc#fawcett city#fawcett comics#fawcett#batman#bruce wayne#spy smasher#minute man#wildcat dc#green lantern#alan scott#jay garrick#the flash#superman#squadron of justice#shazamâs squadron of justice#alan armstrong#barry allen
962 notes
¡
View notes
Text
"Do the Things You Said You'd Do to Me"
3.7k Eddie Munson X fem!reader, no use of Y/N, little to no description of reader, 18+ explicit content-porn with plot, fluff. No upside down, 90s AU set in '97 Eddie & Reader are mid twenties.
A/N: 90% of the time I'll hear a song and immediately think - I want to write about this. It's not always the song's actual theme but specific lyrics. This idea came to me while listening to Sailor Song by Gigi Perez. Feedback/likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading & as always, I hope you enjoy! XO, Scarlet đ
Eddie's flavor was a mix of tobacco and cinnamon. He could brand it 'red squared,' the taste of Marlboro Reds and Red Hots always lingering on his tongue. Occasionally there was a hint of weed, but he didn't often get high with you. You asked why once, and he mumbled something like, "You get me high enough already."
It was undeniably cheesy but he meant it. You had him dizzy in love, so he liked to be completely cognizant, fully immersed in the moment with you. Unfortunately, right now, he couldn't be present at all.
Eddie had been on tour for a month, with three weeks still to go. You had the pleasure of going to the first few shows, but you had your own job so you were stuck in Indiana while your boyfriend was on the road.
Aside from a few brief phone calls -soft whispers of 'I love you,' 'I miss you,' and dirty vows of whatâs to come- you two hadn't spoken while he's been away. You hadnât been apart this long since before you got together and it was driving you crazy. You didn't just miss himâyou craved him.
Craved him so much so, that this past week, you considered picking up a cigarette habit. If that wasn't already pathetic, you actually did buy a pack of Red Hots, stashing them in your nightstand for your late night indulgence. It wasn't enough to think about himâyou needed to taste him.
You'd feel ashamed if it wasn't exactly the sort of thing Eddie would love to hearâhow desperate you were for him. And god, were you desperate.
That's how you ended up vibrator in hand, Red Hots melting on your tongue, losing yourself in thoughts of Eddie. His pretty mouth-it held the filthiest promises, yet they spilled so sweetly. After the words would leave him he'd always smirk, corners of his plush lips drawing your gaze to his big doe eyes. Those godforsaken eyes-constantly feigning innocence when in reality they were a gateway to a deep abyss that threatened to consume you and without a doubt, you'd gladly allow it.
You're fully engrossed in your fantasy of imagining his gaze boring into your own while his sinful mouth's on your cunt. A lethal combination that always had your back arching off the bed. You could feel the orgasm building, the vibrations teasing you, getting you right to the edge, and then just like that-it's gone. You're snapped out of the moment by a loud ruckus from the apartment hallway. You click the vibrator off, straining to listen, hoping it's just your imagination.
A moment passes, and you don't hear anything else. The walls are thin, so you toss it up to your neighborâs rowdy friends, who always acted as if no one else lives in the building. You try to refocus on thoughts of Eddie, but just as you click the vibrator back on, the noise came again.
Goddamn horror movies. You shut off the vibrator, tossing it aside, face flushed and beads of sweat gathering at your hairline as you let out a frustrated sigh. This is exactly why Robin offered for you to sleepover after your movie night earlier that evening. You should have accepted her invitation, because now, alone in your apartment, you canât shake the feeling of Ghost Face lurking in the hallway.
The blissful knot that had been forming has been replaced with one of pure anxiety. As you can faintly hear what sounds like someone shuffling at your doorway. You want to get up from your bed, shut and lock your bedroom door but you're frozen in place. Panicked and second guessing if you even locked the deadbolt.
When you hear the familiar click of your front door, you know that you didn't. Heart racing in your chest as the sound of footsteps enter your apartment. Your stomach drops, and before you can plan your next moveâ
âHoney, Iâm home!â Eddieâs voice rings out.
You shot out of bed, and bolted from your room. There he was, standing in your living room, duffle bag slung over his shoulder. The glow of the nightlight illuminating him, showcasing that smug grin of his. "Surprise!"
âWhat the fuck, Eddie?â you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath as you walked toward him. âThat was terrifying! Why didnât you tell me you were coming?â
He chuckled, âThat would defeat the purpose of the surprise, babe.â
âSurprise?! You almost gave me a heart attack!"
He laughed, stepping closer, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you into his arms. âIâm sorry for scaring you, baby. Harrington warned me you might be jumpy.â
âUm, who the hell wouldnât be?â You laughed, then pulled away from his embrace. âWaitâSteve was in on this? Was Robin? Donât tell me those assholes let me watch people get sliced up for two hours knowing you were going to break in!â You exclaimed, flinging your hands out with a scoff of disbelief. âHow did any of you think this was a good idea?â You added as you made your way toward your end table.
"First of all, it's not breaking in when I have a key, and it's not like this was the plan, baby! I was supposed to be at Robin's hours ago, but my flight got delayed. They didnât want to spoil it," he said, tossing the duffle bag off his shoulder. "I've been planning this for weeks. Robin said she tried to convince you to spend the night. She told me you insisted that Scream didnât even scare you.â
âWell, it didnât!â you defended as your fingers found the knob of the lamp, twisting it on. âNot while watching it, at least. At midnight when someone's at my door, that's a different story.â You laughed, turning back to him.
âNow that you know itâs just me, are ya still scared?â he asked, with his head cocked to the side and a devilish grin on his lips.
âA little,â you smirked. âThe boyfriend's the killer after all.â
Eddie rolled his eyes playfully as he began walking towards you. For the first time tonight, he was fully taking you in: ruffled hair, rosy cheeks, pebbled nipples against the thin material of your oversized night shirt.
"Fuck, sweetheart you look..." His breath hitched, his jeans suddenly feeling too tight. "Did I interrupt something?"
"As a matter of fact, before your grand entrance I was quite busy.. didn't even get to finish." You whispered all sultry and sweet.
He wet his lips with his tongue, a soft swallow as he drank you in. "Guess I got here at the perfect time, huh?"
You nodded as you closed the distance between you both, arms snaking around his neck as his hands came to rest on your lower back, pulling you close, bodies pressed against each other. You could feel how hard he was already. With this proximity, Eddie wasted no time connecting his lips to yours. Within seconds his tongue was eagerly pushing its way into your mouth.
There it was. Smokey cinnamon hitting your tastebuds- heavy on the cinnamon as the candy coating on your own tongue amplified it. It was everything you'd been missing.
You couldn't help but moan into Eddie's mouth, tongues colliding in needy haste. Eddie's hands moved lower, sliding over your backside before bunching up the fabric of your oversized shirt and gripping the fat of your bare ass. He let out a hiss, as you pulled back with his lower lip caught between your teeth dragging it out slowly before letting go.
"Eds," you whispered, eyelashes fluttering up at him. "Would you please, do all the things you said you'd do to me."
A gravelly moan escaped him, the moment the words left your lips. "Come on," he said, taking your hand and guiding you toward your room.
As you both entered your bedroom, you took a seat on your bed as Eddie stood against the doorframe. His eyes landed on the box of Red Hots on the nightstand, raising an eyebrow at you, a teasing smirk on his lips. "I thought I caught that on your tongue."
"Yeah," you giggled. "I... I missed you a lot and I just, I needed to taste you."
Eddie watched as you moved the vibrator that was next to you on your bed, to set it on your nightstand. The full picture of what you'd been up to before his arrival, was now at the forefront of his mind. His cock was straining harder against his jeans as he watched you lean back against your pillows, patiently awaiting his next move.
Before tonight, it had been 27 long days since he last saw you, touched you, fucked you. In less than 36 hours, he would be back on a plane, and another 21 days would stretch before he saw you again. He needed to absorb every detail of this momentâthe soft, warm light casting a glow across your features, the hunger in your eyes, and the way your chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. Your oversized shirt enveloped you, concealing the skin he ached to touch. You looked breathtakingly beautiful, and knowing you had been just as desperate for him made his heart flutter.
"What was my needy girl thinking about while she touched herself, huh?" He asked making his way toward the bed.
"Oh y'know, just your pretty face between my thighs."
"Mmm, my favorite place to be," he groaned, dropping to his knees. His arms came up to your calves, urging you closer to the edge of the bed. Once you were settled, Eddie hoisted your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs. He slid his right hand up, eager fingers pulling the material of your oversized shirt aside, exposing your glistening cunt. A guttural moan escaped his lips at the sight, the sound making your stomach flip.
"Shit," he sighed. "You're fucking dripping."
You let out a soft hum, anticipation gnawing at you as you watched him take a bite of the soft flesh of your left inner thigh, causing your breath to hitch.
Eddie trailed open mouthed kisses up the expanse of your thigh, his hot breath fanning over your core before he moved to your right thigh, giving it the same treatment until his mouth hovered over where you longed for him most.
"Please," you whimpered.
"If I remember correctly, I believe I said I'd tease you first."
"Eddie..." you whined, frustration lacing your tone. "Please don't. I've waited long enough."
Eddie took pleasure in teasing you, reveling in the intoxicating game of cat and mouse. He delighted in how you'd squirm and beg for his touch, your desperation only fueled his desire. But right now, there was absolutely no way he could drag this out.
"Don't worry, I'm only kidding. Been dreaming of savoring this pussy for weeks," leaning forward and sliding his tongue slowly through your folds.
"Fuuuuuuuuuck," you bucked your hips up instinctively, urging his tongue to press firmer as it fluttered back and forth against your clit. "Yes, right there, fuck."
The vibrations that reverberated from his mouth as he moaned against your cunt made you let out a harsh hiss. He worked quickly, lapping at your clit with an intensity that had your eyes squeezed shut from the sensation. Your mouth went slack, breathy gasps escaping as you realized how easily you were putty under Eddie's touch. In just minutes, you were already on the brink of your orgasm.
You couldn't come yet, not when you hadn't fully taken in the sight before you. Forcing your eyes open, you watched as Eddie devoured your cunt. His big doe eyes looked up at you, lust blown -he looked so beautiful like this. Your fingers threaded through his hair as his palms gripped your thighs, pressing into the doughy flesh.
His tongue moved lower, gliding toward your entrance, and you couldn't help but rut your hips against his mouth, fucking yourself on his tongue. Eddie stayed there for a moment before swirling back to your clit, sucking harshly. He couldn't speak with his mouth full, but those pleading eyes told you everything: he wanted you to come all over his mouth.
"Yes, just like that, Eddie! Missed this so fucking much... ahh, ahhh, missed yo-fuck, ohmygod, I'm go-" You let out a silent scream, as pleasure overtook you. Your legs clamped around Eddie's face, hands moving to squeeze your breasts as he continued to suck your clit. Your back arched off the bed, your entire body quaking from the release of your orgasm. Eddie kept licking at your sensitive cunt, his tongue drawing out every last shiver of pleasure as you struggled to catch your breath as you came down.
In your blissful haze, you watched as he slowly removed himself from between your legs, undressing at the foot of your bed.
He looked so beautiful, you were enamored by it. Your gaze following his tattoos, like a game of connect the dots. Admiring each of them as if this were the first time you were seeing them. You lingered on his most recent additionâa tattooed kiss above his left hip bone. You had a habit of kissing him there, and one day, after leaving a lipstick print, Eddie was so in love with how it looked, he decided to immortalize it in ink.
While you loved it, you also worried he might regret such an impulsive, permanent choice. He only smiled, assuring you, "Iâll forever be yours, so it might as well be branded on me."
"What're you thinking about, sweetheart?" Eddie asked pulling you out of your thoughts, his fingers toying with the waist band of his boxers.
"How pretty you are," you smiled, sitting up and leaning forward, replacing his hands with your own. Your lips brushed over the tattoo, eliciting a shudder from Eddie. You trailed soft kisses across his abdomen to his right hip bone, then slowly pulled down his boxers.
Your breath caught as his cock was revealed -so pretty, hard, and leaking pre cum. You pressed a gentle kiss to the tip, before teasing it with slow, soft licks.
"Christ," Eddie muttered through gritted teeth.
Your fingernails sank into his hips, sure to leave marks as you pulled him closer, taking his tip into your mouth and sucking.
"Ahh fuck," he moaned,
Normally, you'd bob your head, eager to take him fully. But the ache between your thighs was back, more intense than before.
You pulled back, eyes glistening-not from the act, but from the pure desperation you were suddenly feeling.
"I want more," you whined as you moved your hand to stroke his cock. "Want you to fuck me, Eds."
"Is that what'ya want," his hand coming to cup your cheek. "My cock inside you?"
You tightened your grip on his length, a desperate whine falling from your lips as you nodded. "Please."
Eddie inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering shut at the sound of your voice pleading for him. Your words dripped with honey, sweet and melodic. "Lay back for me, sweetheart, and take off your shirt. I want to see all of you."
You obeyed, your heart racing as he reached for a condom from your nightstand. After rolling it over his length, he climbed onto the bed, settling on his knees between your spread legs.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his hands caressing your body, lips kissing the soft skin of your tummy and trailing up toward your breasts.
A chorus of moans escaped you as he suckled and nipped at your breasts. He moved slowly, working his way up to your collarbone and along your neck, every kiss a tantalizing reminder of what you craved.
You grabbed his face, crashing your lips against his in a hungry frenzy of teeth and tongue. "Eddie, stop teasing," you urged breathlessly, feeling him line himself up at your entrance.
He couldn't help himself, he'd been satiated enough from devouring you earlier, he had to taunt you a little. "That's half the fun, baby. Love seeing you so worked up," he growled, his hands squeezing your hips.
"Far past worked up."
He chuckled, "Yeah? Tell me how badly you want it."
"Don't want, need. Need you to fill me, Eddie."
"And I will, baby, I will. But it's been a while, maybe I should take my time?"
"No, I can handle it," you insisted.
"You can also be patient though, right?" He tsked softly, pressing the tip inside slowly. Your breath hitched as you mewled at the sensation.
A stream of praise tumbled from his lips, barely coherent as you saw stars from the stinging pleasure of his cock. He tantalized you with slow half thrusts, and you needed more. Arching your back, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails digging into his shoulders.
Eddie thrived on how needy you were, how much you made him feel desired. All he wanted was to give you everything you craved. He inched deeper, stretching you, filling you completely, both of you gasping at the sensation. He stayed still for a moment, savoring the tight warmth around him. "You feel so goddamn good," he groaned, beginning to move.
You were nearly in tears, eyes blown wide as Eddie found a steady pace, your nails now clawing at his back. "Feels perfect," you cried out.
"Sure does, sweetheart. Like you were made just for me," he groaned.
"All for you."
Eddie leaned closer, his left forearm braced against the bed, while his right pressed against your chest his hand gripping your neck gently. Your legs fell open, falling to the sides of his torso, over his spread thighs as he continued to thrust into you, at an increased pace.
The tension coiled tighter, building faster than you expected. You grasped his bicep with your right hand, the other clutching his forearm that was on your chest.
His face hovered over yours, gaze locked onto each others. The lust that once filled his eyes had transformed into something softerâhalf lidded and glistening, a reflection of pleasure and the surge of emotions swirling between you.
"Missed you so fucking much," he breathed removing his grip from your neck, to instead lace his fingers with yours and rest your hand against the mattress as he continued to pound into you.
You nodded your head, rendered absolutely speechless by the pure ecstasy his cock was giving you.
The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, breathy gasps and lewd moans, as the two of you continued to lose yourselves within each other.
"That's it, baby. I can feel you clenching," Eddie coaxed. "Let go for me, I'm right there with you."
You let your orgasm wash over you, Eddie's thrusts never letting up even as he came with you.
As the height of pleasure dulled, he rolled his hips lazily, his forehead pressing against yours as your lips met in a soft collision.
"I love you," you murmured.
"I love you too," he replied, rolling onto his side to lie next to you.
You cuddled for a while, Eddie's fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he shared stories about the road and the gigs he's played. You caught him up on your job and what life had been like in Hawkins since heâd been gone, telling him all the details about your movie night at Robin's. You even joked that if it had been Ghost Face who "broke in" tonight, as long as you got the same treatment you just received, you wouldn't have minded.
"Halloween '97, here I come. No tricks, all treatsâIâll fuck you with the mask on," he teased.
You playfully nudged him, and he shrugged. "Just saying, I'm open to it," he laughed, reaching over you to grab the Red Hots from your nightstand, popping some into his mouth.
He was beaming at you, eyes bright and wide, sucking hard on the candy in his cheek. "I'll be right back," he said, hopping out of bed and throwing on his boxers.
"Where are you going?"
"I have something for you," he called as he headed into the living room.
You sat up, the comforter pulled over you, eagerly awaiting his return.
"It's not much," he said as he walked back into your room, arms behind his back. "And don't be alarmed that itâs been used."
"Okay," you replied, cocking your head to the side, eyebrow raised with a questioning smile.
Eddie made his way back onto the bed, sitting in front of you. "You weren't alone in going out of your way for uh... reminders," he laughed, revealing a bottle of your favorite perfume. "Sleeping on a bus is rough, okay? The motels aren't any better, and I just needed... you."
A soft giggle escaped your lips. "Oh my god, Eddie."
"I sprayed my pillow. The bus driver gave the me idea, said his wife sends him with her perfume every time he's away. The downside was that it made me increasingly horny. Like, I was popping a boner every time my head hit the pillow."
You were choking on your laughter.
"It's not funny, baby. Do you know how hard it is to jack off on a tour bus? Everyone can hear everything! I had to smother myself with the pillow to keep myself from fucking moaning but that only made it worse. The scent was just intensified, and felt like my head was just buried in your neck while I fucked my hand and I'd just moan louder."
You laughed, heart swooning that he'd been as much of a mess as you. "Well, at least we're both terrible at being apart."
"Tragically lovesick, I think they call it," he murmured, a teasing smile on his lips as he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to yours.
"When's your flight back?"
"Sunday at noon," he replied.
You glanced at the clock on wall. "So we've got 34 hours left, and I if I remember correctly," you teased using his own words from earlier. "I asked you to do the things you said you would."
"Right," he said a cheeky grin on his lips. "And I think I told you on our last phone call, that when I saw you, I'd make you cum once for every day we'd been apart. Is that right?"
"Mhmm. Only 25 more to go," you added.
"We better get to it then," he smirked.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader#Eddie Munson smut#Eddie Munson x you#Eddie Munson au#stranger things#stranger things au#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson fic#scarlet writes#eddie munson fluff#xo scarlet#rockstar!eddie munson
443 notes
¡
View notes
Note
in honor of his birthday i would like to ask if you, as a master of a pangy fic writing, have any pangy jason fics to recommend
âď¸ youâve given me a quest! i do indeed have pangy jason fic recs, and here are some of them:
pre-death:
Not All Kidnappings are Bad by @cdelphiki
a âbruce finds jason earlyâ au, featuring 9 y/o jasonâs understandable trust issues, bruceâs terminal awkwardness, and slow-burn family. the identity reveal here is also one of my favorite moments.
weâre released pushing daisies by shoutowo
jason starts acting strange out of the blue, and bruce is fraying at the seams trying to figure out why. i love how the pov is so deftly navigated here; the reader knows almost exactly whatâs going on, even if bruce never does, and we still get a little catharsis.
these words you canât say by glaciya
a short, excellent, gut-punch of a fic in which jason is figuring out his place in the family, and dick takes out some of his bruce issues on jason (but does his best to fix it later).
A MOMENT THAT'S HELD IN YOUR ARMS. by orpheusaki
possibly my fav early days jason pang fic of all time; jason and bruce are stumbling toward learning to communicate, and bruce runs headfirst into one of jasonâs (understandable) misconceptions.
Safe Space by Cerusee
the summary puts it perfectly: âTurns out, Bruce and Jason arenât quite on the same page about whoâs parenting whom.â feat. some exploration of jasonâs past + trauma around being a caretaker to a parent figure.
post-resurrection:
the only way out (is as a carcass) by @silk-scarlet-ribbons
red hood gets mentally rewound to his robin days, and has A Time. this fic also delves a bit into jason grappling with the major changes his body went through since he was robin, which is a particularly compelling pang to me.
all my love and terror balanced there by @burins
in which jason and bruce have a conversation, and i cry. (this line has lived in my head since i read it: "I lost you too," Jason says. "You always forget that. And I never got you back.")
Tap Out by @coyote-nebula
jason gets poisoned as a civilian, which kicks off a character study of jason & bruce + trying not to hurt each other. one of my favorite jason povs!
The Cold Like Coming Home by cabezas_de_vaca
jason rescues bruce wayne from a kidnapping across the globe from gotham. this one made me experience the full spectrum of jason & bruce emotions, pangs and all.
butcherbird, fly away home by e_va
unrelated to the previous fic, but: jason rescues bruce wayne from a kidnapping across the globe from gotham. here, bruce doesnât know jasonâs alive yet, jason doesnât tell bruce the truth about what happened to him (at first), and they both Go Through It before eventually going home.
It Doesnât Look Bitter on You by ManURonaldo
a story about jasonâs food insecurity, with some really excellent pangs in both the past & present timelines. (also comes with a side of tim pangs, as a treat.)
#hbd jason thanks for the angst (and the catharsis)#also there are a few authors tumblr wouldnât let me tag? sorry about that!#it was so fun to put this list together because now i want to reread all of these#jason todd#fic rec
446 notes
¡
View notes
Text
All Your Fault (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader)
Word Count: 12.5K
Summary: In no world could Y/N like Steve Harrington, that's what she kept telling herself despite everybody's insistence that he was a good guy. They couldn't possibly be right, could they?
Warnings - Mature Language, Suicide, Mentions Of Sex, Death, Injuries, Bullying, Drug Use
A/N: This is my longest fic yet and of course it's for the one and only Steve Harrington! Just wanted to say that I know this doesn't follow the exact plot and I have changed some things so it fits in with the storyline. Also I am not condoning bullying in any way, shape or form!! Not proofread so forgive me.
âHey, dingus, we need a ride!â
My bedroom door swings open, just about slamming against the wall before the irritating voice of my younger brother reverberates throughout my bedroom. Startled by the noise, my head snaps in Dustinâs direction. Not expecting to see his little group of friends in tow or for them to be in the company of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. Who I know them to spend a lot of time with nowadays despite my incessant complaints about Harrington being quite possibly the worst person on planet.
âDude! Knock much?â I groan, swiftly closing the notebook that I had previously been writing in, in order to avoid any wandering eyes. âI was in the middle of something!â
âWhat? Making out with your stuffed toys?â Dustin jokes, resulting in a few snickers from his friends and a roll of their eyes from the older teens.
âIâd be happy to make out with you.â Mike comments, my brother throwing a small tap to the back of his head in disapproval.
âEw gross. Get out of my bedroom you little perverts!âÂ
âListen dickhead, mom and dad have gone to the movies and if Iâm remembering correctly they said you have to drive me places when theyâre not here. So, weâll be taking that ride now please.âÂ
âFuckâs sake.â I grumble, combing my fingers through my hair in annoyance. âDoesnât your new best friend Steve drive?â
My voice is laced with malice, eyes fixated on the older boy with a glare, eyebrows raised as I await his response. Not that I needed any confirmation, everybody in Hawkins knows that Steve drives. God, he never shuts up about his deep red BMW, itâs one of his more insufferable qualities.
âYeah, my car is kind of in the garage right now. Itâs gonna be out of action for a while.â He admits, cheeks flushing a soft scarlet indicating his embarrassment.Â
âSo that makes you our designated driver.â Dustin tells me, a smug look on his face as he knows that I have no option but to accept defeat. âPlus, your truck is a lot bigger than Steveâs car. You wonât even have to speak to us because weâll sit in the bed!â
âFine! But I am not giving you a ride home because Iâve got a shift at the roller rink tonight and I cannot afford to take another night off!â I state, reluctantly grabbing my keys and throwing my fur coat over my shoulders.
Making my way towards the group, theyâre quick to make their way down the staircase, scurrying out the front door as though afraid I may change my mind at any given second. I take my time locking up the house, wanting to delay the inevitability of having Steve Harrington in my truck for as long as I physically can. Sure, itâs annoying having to cart my brother and his friends around the town of Hawkins at their will, but the kids, I can deal with. One of my childhood bullies, not so much.Â
Strolling over to the garage, itâs hard to miss the way Steve and Robin stand close to one another, giggling like school girlâs at whatever they were discussing. With furrowed brows, I canât help but wonder when they became friends. Not only is Robin a year younger than Steve and I, but sheâs also the complete opposite of Steveâs normal company. After all, he is friends with cheerleaders and jocks, Buckley is in the school band and spends most of her free time studying other languages. There is no world in which they could possibly be friends and yet here they are.
âSteve and Robin are gonna ride up front with you.â Dustin speaks, clambering into the bed of the truck with very little grace.
âWhat? No, you can all get in the back!â I argue, offering Max a hand as she struggles to pull herself up.
âSorry but eight of us back here is too much of a squeeze, guess youâll just have to make do.â Lucas remarks, arguing my brotherâs case for him, forcing me to plaster on a fake smile as if I couldnât be happier.
âOkay. Letâs just hope I donât crash on the way, Iâd hate to see a six body pile up on the side of the road.â My tone is ominous and I catch the slight gleam of fear in each and every one of the kidâs eyes. âWhere am I taking you assholes?â
âStarcourt please Y/N.â Max hastily replies, hand clutching the side of the truck so tight her knuckles are turning white and I smirk to myself as I close the tailgate, pleased I have managed to instill a sense of panic in the usually overly confident group.
Hopping up into the driverâs seat, Iâm about to turn on the ignition when out of the corner of my eye, I register that Steve has taken it upon himself to choose the middle seat. Situating himself comfortably between Robin and I.
âUh no. Not happening. You two need to switch sides.âÂ
âWhat why?â Steve questions and I could be wrong but Iâm almost positive there is a twinge of hurt in his tone.
âBecause I donât mind Robin.â I smile sweetly at the girl, before replacing it with a scowl as my eyes lay on the chestnut haired doofus. âYou, on the other hand, Iâd rather take a knife to the eye, than sit besides you.â
As much as it feels like a punch to the gut when I spot the pained expression wash over Harringtonâs face, it is completely overshadowed by the sense of pride that I feel at being able to make him feel small, the same way him and his posse of imbeciles did to me for years. I know, deep down, that I should be the bigger person, that just because he treated me poorly throughout our school years that I shouldnât do the same to him. Yet, Iâm resentful. Iâm resentful and having accepted the cruelty of this world, Iâm also bitter. No longer the sweet and optimistic young girl that I once was.
âYeah, I actually canât take the middle seat.â Robin confesses, an awkward smile resting on her face. âI get real bad claustrophobia.âÂ
With an exasperated huff, I focus my eyes on the road as we begin the drive, doing my best to ignore the passenger sitting beside me. Even if I am trying to distract myself, Iâm unable to hide my annoyance, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard, Iâm afraid it may shatter beneath me.
Fortunately itâs only a short ten minute drive to the Starcourt Mall, as long as traffic is in my favor, I should even shave off a couple of minutes. Though the silence within the small space is deafening, frustrating me even more. Before I can stop myself, Iâm reaching over to turn on the radio, hoping the joyful melodies of Joe Jacksonâs Steppinâ Out will boost my mood before my shift.
Unluckily for me, as I reach to grab the steering wheel once again, my hand lightly brushes over Steveâs hand, causing me to flinch away with such force it feels as though I have been electrocuted.Â
âSorry.â Steve mumbles, tucking his hands away into his pockets to avoid any more uncomfortable interactions.
âSo, Iâm sensing a teeny bit of tension here.â Robin comments, stating the obvious.
âYeah, no shit Robin.â I snap, feeling my entire body go stiff at her teasing.
Glancing over at the two teens, I take note of the way Robin slumps down into the seat at my words. Folding her arms over her chest as if sheâs a child that has just been scolded by their parents.Â
âWhy are the kids so desperate to go to Starcourt anyway?â I ask, not directing the question at either of them in particular in an attempt to change the subject, feeling slightly guilty at my previous outburst.
âOh um, weâre meeting Eddie, just thought itâd be nice to take that bunch of losers out for the day you know. Nancy and Jonathan might even be joining us later too!â Robin explains, smiling to herself as she peers out the back window to make sure the kids are doing fine.
âBesides, they deserves a break with everything thatâs been-â
âWhat Steve means to say is that theyâve had a lot on at the moment, what with school. We think theyâre getting a little stressed.â Robin interrupts, doing her best to subtly elbow Steveâs stomach, though Iâm able to spot it, mostly because his body jerks into mine as she does so.
âWhy do I feel like thereâs something youâre not telling me?â I ask, slyly peering over at them from the corner of my mouth.
âNope, weâre not hiding anything.â Robin asserts, turning away from me to gaze out of the window.
âYeah, nothing to tell. Definitely nothing going on.â Steve agrees, the haste in which they both answered only raising my suspicions.
Before I can question them even further, I realize Iâm pulling into the Starcourt parking lot. Quickly finding a space and turning off the ignition, I donât give the duo any time to get out of the car before Iâm turning the child lock on, forcing them to remain in the vehicle with me.
âI swear to God, if my baby brother is in any sort of trouble and you havenât told me, Iâll kill the pair of you, okay?â I ask, both of them nodding their heads furiously at my threat and leaping out of the passenger door the moment that I unlock it.
Rolling down my window, I can hear the kids hopping over the side of the truck, eagerly chattering amongst themselves at the plans they have made for the day. Tiny smile forming on my face as I light a cigarette, watching Dustin jokingly fight with Steve. The interaction holds no maliciousness, I can see no sign of the older boy deliberately trying to hurt him and for a split second I find myself questioning whether it could be possible that the great King Steve has changed in his ways. However, Iâm quick to shake that thought away.
âDo my eyes deceive me or is that Y/N Henderson?â Eddie Munsonâs voice calls from a mere few feet away.
âOh shit.â I whisper, taking a long drag of my cigarette before jumping out of the truck and resting my back against the door, waiting for him to approach.
Itâs safe to say Eddie and I have a complicated relationship. What started out as him simply being nothing more than my dealer, blossomed into a somewhat beautiful friendship. Considering weâre an unlikely duo, we have a lot in common. Sharing similar taste in films, books and sense of humor.
I suppose it was inevitable that weâd end up sleeping together. Fuelled by our drug induced state, we shared a very hot and very exciting night of passion together. Following with me sneaking out of his trailer first thing the next morning after I had slowly come to my senses and discerned that our relationship should remain just friends. Not wanting to pursue anything at this moment in time.
âHey Eddie, itâs been a while.â I comment, flicking the ash from my cigarette onto the ground as he places an arm beside my head, caging me between his body and the truck.
âI never heard from you.â He speaks quietly, doing his best to avoid the attention of the group standing not too far from us.
âIâm sorry. Iâve had a lot going on.â I mumble, looking anywhere but the boy in front of me.
As my gaze finds the group, my eyes instantly fall upon Steve Harrington. Heâs speaking to Max, clearly in some sort of debate with her that looks like it may be about to explode into a full blown argument, yet his attention is solely focused on me. Observing the close proximity between me and the metalhead. His eyes falling to my lips as I allow the smoke to exhale from my mouth.
âYou know, you could at least look at me when Iâm talking to you.â Eddie chuckles, attempting to hide the hurt undertone in his voice, head rotating to follow the direction of my eyeline.
âSorry, I just donât get what Harringtonâs problem is. Heâs been staring over here this entire time.â I tell him, finally staring up at the tall boy.
âIsnât it obvious?â He asks, teasing smile resting upon his lips. I shake my head slowly, dropping the cigarette to the ground. âHe thinks youâre hot.â
My hands slap against his chest instinctively, the idea being completely and utterly absurd to me that I have to laugh.Â
âIâm serious! Look at you, youâre a fucking smoke show.â Eddie asserts, pushing his argument even more as he sneaks another glance over to the topic of our conversation. âWant me to prove it?â
The idea of Steve Harrington finding me even remotely attractive is so far off the table that I find myself entertained by the idea of proving Eddie wrong. Iâm sure heâs simply intrigued by the idea of me and the freak being friends, nothing more.Â
With a small nod, Eddieâs hands drop to my waist, touch as light as a feather to not push any boundaries that I may not be comfortable with. Playing along with his antics, I take the lapels of his leather jacket in my hands, pulling his body impossibly closer to mine. The hard expression on Steveâs face is difficult to miss as Eddieâs head rests in the crook of my neck, peppering gentle kisses along the base.
âEw Eddie, come on man! Thatâs my sister!â Dustinâs whines pull us back to reality and Eddie takes a dramatic step away from me to please the curly haired young boy.
Although we now stand with plenty of space between the two of us, Harringtonâs face remains in the same cold expression as before. Jaw clenched tightly as his eyes flick between Eddie and I. Leaving me more confused than ever at what his problem is.
âAlright, see you later kids.â I shout, climbing back into my truck and leaving them in the capable hands of their babysitters. âDonât be causing any trouble!â
***
Steve could think of nothing other than the mean girl that had reluctantly drove them to the mall. It didnât matter how many stores they went in, or arcade games they played, he just couldnât get her off his mind. Wondering why she had such a huge vendetta against him. What could he possibly have done to this girl, that he is almost certain he has never met before, to cause her to act in such an unpleasant way towards him.
He knew he hadnât been the nicest of guys throughout high school, caring more about his popularity and how his friends perceived him than being a decent person. However, he was sure heâd remember if he had been rude to her. He was sure he wouldnât have been rude to a girl like her. Hell, he was wondering why he hadnât pursued her sooner. Her beauty indescribable and more radiant than any other girl he had seen before.
âSteve, whatâs going on? Iâm regretting picking you to be on my team!â Dustin exclaims, frustrated at the loss of yet another game due to Steveâs lack of focus.
âThat was your sister?â He asks in disbelief, still completely overwhelmed by the limited interaction they had shared hours prior.
âYeah, sheâs a full on bitch right?â Dustin comments, unaware of his friendâs infatuation.
âHas she always been that unkind?â Steve asks, causing Dustin to look up at him with a questioning glint in his eye.
âOh you got to face her wrath did you?â The younger boy laughs, amused at the thought of his normally cool and charming friend being bitched out by his older sister. âYeah, she still hates you dude, never shuts up about you actually.â
âWait, she talks about me?â His tone is hopeful, feeling pleased to know that heâs on her mind. I mean, thatâs got to be a good sign, right?
âCalm down loverboy. Itâs not a good thing.â Dustin smirks, though when he sees the downcast look on his friend's face, he canât but sigh, patting him on the shoulder lightly. âLook, I think youâre cool, smart, charming, and some would say classically handsome but my sister usually refers to you as a no good, shit for brains, wank stain. Amongst other things, thatâs usually her preferred term.â
Steve sighs at his words, combing his fingers through his hair awkwardly as he comes to terms with the fact that he quite possibly has a zero percent chance of becoming romantically involved with the intriguing girl. He knew that since leaving high school his luck with the ladies had severely dwindled, struggling to maintain a relationship that didnât solely focus on sex, and yet, his heart sank a little lower knowing that the one girl that had truly piqued his interest was the one girl he would never stand a chance with.
Dustin, on the other hand, took pity on the boy he looked up to. Despite the countless tales of torture and misery that he knew Steve had put his sister through during their school years, he knew that the boy had changed. Sure, heâd felt sympathy towards Steve when he ended up working at Scoops Ahoy following his graduation, knowing how much it took a hit to his ego that heâd lost his King Steve title and was now serving children scoops of ice cream every passing day. However, he knew that the shitty job was a good thing for his friend, alongside his role as the unofficial group babysitter and assisting in their pursuit to save Hawkins, Dustin knew deep down that taking such a low blow was Steveâs saving grace. Reminding him that he wasnât in fact above everybody else and truly changing him for the better. The young boy had seen it, but he also couldnât blame his sister for being blind to it.
âLook Steve, I know that youâre a good person and I know that youâve changed but you put Y/N through hell. She struggled a lot at the hands of you and your friends and I know sheâd kill me for telling you this but sheâs been in therapy since she was fourteen years old because of what you guys did to her. We were really worried about her actually.â Dustin admits, Steveâs breath catching in his throat as he hears the shakiness in the boyâs voice. âMy parents still are. She didnât even bother applying to college, and now she spends most of her time hiding herself away in her room or getting high with Eddie.â
âDustin Iâm so sorry, I donât even remember her.â Steve states, struggling to get over the sinking feeling in his stomach that seems to be consuming him.
âOf course you donât remember her, you only thought about yourself and your stupid friends back then.â Those words hit Steve like a ton of bricks, never had anybody truly called him out on his former behavior, not to this extent anyway. âLook, you just need to show her youâre a good guy, Iâm not gonna say itâll be easy because if I know Y/N, then I know she can be a cruel, heartless bitch, but I also know that she has a good heart and as long as you can prove to her that youâre sorry and that youâve changed then sheâll come around. Maybe just wait until after weâve destroyed the Mind Flayer.â
***
Monday nights at the roller rink are always notoriously quiet, only a couple of people passing through our doors for the majority of the night. Iâve argued with my manager on numerous occasions, pleading with him to change our closing time from eleven to nine, but to no avail, I fail every single time. As a punishment for doing so, Iâm placed on almost every monday night shift alone, which wouldnât be too bad, had I something to do. Instead I stand at the counter, lazily snacking on some popcorn that I most definitely didnât pay for, awaiting any customers that may wander into the building.
Hearing the large doors squeak open, I immediately straighten my posture, my best winning smile slapped on my face as I prepare to serve the group that just strolled through the doors. That is until I see the group just so happens to be the same group that I dropped off at the mall earlier in the day. Smile dropping from my face almost instantly.
âWhat do you want?âÂ
âDonât you mean, welcome to Paradise Skate World, how can I be of assistance?â Eddie jokes, leaning against the countertop.
âNo, I mean what do you want?â
Wasting no time, the group excitedly shout their shoe sizes at me, a flurry of words and numbers that I struggle to understand. After swapping a few pairs multiple times, I finally manage to line nine pairs of rollerskates along the countertop, the kids frantically grabbing at them and discarding their personal shoes all over the floor. Not caring to use the cubby holes provided.
âThatâll be twenty seven dollars please.â My voice is monotonous, not caring to be pleasant with them, not that they seem to care.
Steve doesnât speak as he hands over thirty dollars, mumbling a quiet âthank youâ as I hand him his change. He sits beside Robin on one of the dirty old benches, helping her to lace up the boots before slowly escorting her over to the rink where she is left in the capable hands of the younger teens. Who, for whatever reason, all seem to be incredibly confident on eight wheels.
Having lost sight of Steve as my attention was fixed on the kids gleefully skating around the rink, I round the counter preparing to pick up all of their discarded shoes, only to see the boy already on the floor matching pairs of shoes together.
âOh, you donât have to do that.â I tell him, joining him on the carpet to gather together the rest of the shoes.
If I didnât dislike him so much, Iâd think his actions were sweet. Paying for the entire group and cleaning up after them, heâs a customer service worker's dream, yet I still canât help but feel resentful. Why couldnât he have been like this in high school?
âI know, but those guys make so much mess that itâs not fair to leave it all for you to clean up.â Steve comments, placing the last pair of shoes in one of the cubby holes. He rises to his feet slowly before offering his hand to help me up. However, I choose not to accept his help, rising to my feet without his assistance.
âThank you, I appreciate it.â
He smiles softly at me, returning to the bench to remove his own shoes and placing the rollerskates on. When he rises from the bench, I canât help but giggle at the shakiness in his legs, standing like a baby deer, he just about makes it to the countertop before needing to grab hold of it in order to keep himself upright. Resulting in a loud laugh from me, finding much amusement in the situation.
âNeed some help Harrington?â I ask through my roars of laughter, having to cover my mouth to keep my volume down as he looks at me with sheer panic in his eyes.
âYou sure you donât wanna just stand there and laugh at me in my time of need?â He questions, flashing a cheesy smile my way to ensure I know that he is joking.
With a small sigh, I make my way over to him, taking his hands in mine, forcing him to let go of the countertop that he was clutching onto.Â
âI may not like you Steve Harrington, but Iâm not gonna let you fall on your ass like an idiot, not with the kids watching.â I state, walking backwards at a snailâs pace to allow him to find his feet. âBesides, itâs company policy to offer a hand when needed.â
Steve laughs at my words, a deep chuckle that causes my mouth to quirk upwards. Am I actually smiling in the presence of Steve Harrington? Shaking my head, I rid myself of the contentment on my face.Â
âIâm going to embarrass myself arenât I?â He asks, staring over my shoulder towards the rink with worry. âI donât know why they thought this was a good idea, Iâve never skated in my life.â
âThatâs probably exactly why they wanted to come here. They get to embarrass you and they also get to annoy the fuck out of me at the same time.âÂ
âIâll try my best to keep them from annoying you, itâs the least I can do after ruining your peaceful evening.â His voice is soft, and I find myself unable to look away from his face.
It comes as no shock that the boy is attractive, he had girls falling over their feet for him since the moment he hit puberty. Iâd never understood the obsession with King Steve, though I suppose Iâd never been this close to him before. Never able to see how boyishly handsome he was.Â
Chestnut brown hair that falls lazily over his forehead, coffee coloured eyes that hold a deep softness and a cheeky twinkle. His nose falls in a perfect slope, lips plump in a gorgeous salmon color with a sprinkling of light freckles scattered across his face. He truly is the epitome of beauty, itâs just such a shame that his personality is completely lacking.
Iâm snapped out of my trance when I feel the hardwood of the rink beneath my feet, hesitantly letting go of Steveâs hands as he pushes himself forward ever so slowly. Testing the waters as to how far he can go without falling flat on his face.
âWell you did it. Now you just have to show that pack of dickheads that their ploy to embarrass you isnât going to work.âÂ
He smiles at my comment, opening his mouth to say something in return, however, I spin myself around and hastily walk back to my position at the counter before he can say anything. Muttering a small âhave funâ as I do so. Not wanting to be entranced by him further and not wanting to forget about all the shit he put me through just because we had a fairly nice interaction for all of ten minutes.
In an effort to distract myself, I busy myself with cleaning any and every surface behind the counter. Very unusual behavior for me, but at this point, I would do anything to get the thought of Steve possibly being a good person out of my mind. Even if I have to spend my time cleaning to do so. Though, I guess anything is better than gazing longingly over at the boy in the rink and trying to ignore the racing of my heart.
âYou know, I used to think Steve was a bad guy too.â
Robinâs voice startles me as I donât notice her standing by the counter, sheâs smirking playfully at me.Â
âHow the fuck are you and him friends? I mean, no offense but youâre exactly the type of person whose life he wouldâve ruined in high school.â I donât mean to come across as rude but my tone definitely says otherwise, Robin raising her eyebrows at my statement, clearly taking offense.
âSteve has a good heart, heâs doing his best. I know itâs not my place to say anything and I have no idea what went down between the two of you but what I do know is that if he can reconcile with Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie then perhaps thatâs a sign you should give him a chance.â Robin remarks and against my best judgment, my eyes instantly find him out on the floor of the rink. Max and El hold his hands as they drag him around, all proudly displaying their delight.
âHe did a lot of fucked up shit to me Robs.â I sigh, knowing that no matter how much I want to forgive him, Iâll most likely take my hatred to the grave. âThey all did.â
The girl follows my lead and releases her own sigh, reaching across the countertop to take my hands in herâs. Thumbs gently stroking the backs of my palms.
âI know, Iâm not going to excuse his behavior. He was a complete asshole, even when I first met him, I thought he was an asshole but he proved me wrong. Trust me, I never thought Iâd be over here vouching for Steve Harrington of all people.â Robinâs gaze never leaves mine as she speaks, asserting just how much she truly means the words sheâs saying. âJust maybe try to let go of that grudge youâre holding, I reckon you two would actually make pretty good friends.â
***
Regardless of how much I tossed and turned, Robinâs words kept me awake for hours. Unable to sleep and with no sign of tiring myself out anytime soon, I decided to do the next best thing. Hence why I am now sitting on one of the many docks stretching out into the depths of Lovers Lake. Joint in hand as I try to process all the emotions I had managed to bury deep within me for so long.
The joint does nothing to soothe my shaking body, though Iâm unsure of whether itâs from the frosty fall air or the recent events that seem to have dredged up everything in my past that I had tried to forget, either way, I wrap my fur coat tighter around myself as a weak attempt to ease the shaking. God, if only Dustin hadnât gone and befriended the one person that caused me so much pain.
âOh sorry, I didnât realize anybody would be here.â The voice from behind catches me by surprise, not expecting anybody else to be down here at two am. Glancing over my shoulder, I canât help but laugh at the worldâs cruel sense of humor as the person racing through my mind stands only mere feet away. âWait, are you crying?â
Raising a trembling hand to my face, I feel the dampness of my cheeks, clearly too high to discern that I had in fact been crying. The fact causing me to laugh once more and Steveâs face floods with one of worry, hesitantly trudging towards me and taking a seat beside me, swinging his feet over the side of the dock in the same manner as mine.
âAre you okay?â Steve asks, genuinely seeming to care about the reason for my tears, tone soft with no evidence of an ulterior motive.
âNo.â I admit, offering him a weak smile whilst quickly wiping the tears away that roll down my face. âNo, Iâm not okay and I havenât been for such a long time and I donât even know why Iâm telling you this because itâs all your fault.â
Steveâs mouth opens to speak and yet no words come out. Guilt scrawled across his face as he attempts to come up with the words to comfort me. Once again, I canât help but laugh at the humorous nature of the situation. Iâve never opened up to anybody about how Iâm truly feeling, hell, even my therapist doesnât know the half of it but who feels comfortable enough to voice their darkest thoughts to a complete stranger in a very clinical setting? Iâm going to blame the joint for my willingness to open up to the one person who Iâd rather never speak to again.
âItâs probably really shitty of me and you probably donât want to hear it but I am so sorry Y/N. Truly, I canât even begin to describe how sorry I am.â Steve tells me, voice shaking and almost catching in his throat, however, he never once looks away from me. Forcing himself to own up to what he did. âDo you want to talk about it?â
Taking a drag of the joint, we remain in silence for a few moments, the only sounds to be heard are that of my repeated sniffles. Itâs almost comforting in a way that the boy doesnât speak, not rushing me nor pressuring me to accept his apology.Â
âItâs funny you know, I thought I wouldâve moved on from it by now. I thought that as soon as I graduated I wouldâve been able to forget everything that you and your friends did to me and leave it all in the past.â I state, not even knowing where to start. I never expected to be in this position, never thought Iâd get the chance to confront the monsters from my childhood but as he sits before me, he doesnât seem to be much of a monster. âYou and Carol and Tommy, you guys destroyed me. You hated me so much that I began to hate myself and Iâve never recovered from that.â
Steve lets out a sharp exhale, causing me to look over at him and what I see shocks me deeply. Although heâs trying his best to hide it, I donât miss the tears that fall slowly down his cheeks. Guilt consuming him as he comes to terms with his actions and the direct consequences they had as a result.
âI almost killed myself, Steve.â
My words hit him like a knife to the chest and his head is snapping to face me so fast, I fear he may have given himself whiplash. Mouth slightly open in shock as he processes what I just confessed.
âYou, you wh-â
âYouâre not to blame for that. I could never blame you for that.â I whisper, feeling lighter as I open myself up more and more for the very first time.
âHow, how did-â Steve stops himself before he speaks, this time itâs him thatâs wiping away tears. âWhat happened?â
I know Steve is questioning whether itâs appropriate to ask. Unsure of whether Iâm willing to talk about the most traumatic most of my life thus far, especially with him. With nerves coursing through my veins, I shakily offer him the joint, he accepts with a small smile, slowly taking a long drag, allowing the weed to flood through his body.
âJunior year. I think Iâd been planning it for a while, or at least thinking about it. That day, I think you mustâve been at a basketball game or something, Carol and Tommy they-â I sob hysterically, feeling so much shame as I explain everything to him. âThey cornered me in an alley as I was walking home. It was just the usual insults, but when I didnât react they got angry. I donât really remember it all, I think Iâve tried to black it out but I woke up unconscious in that alley, and I just remember feeling so at peace when I laid there.
So I went home, ran straight up to my room because I didnât want anybody to see me. As soon as I looked in the mirror, I just felt disgusting. My eye was all swollen and my face was just covered in bruises and scratches. Not that I felt beautiful before, but I felt hideous.Â
Iâd been hoarding my pills for weeks at that point and I just began to take them. Handfuls at a time, I think I got about halfway through my stockpile before my mom walked in. She was screaming and crying and I couldnât do anything, I just passed out.â
âFuck.â Steve whispers, trying to suppress his own sniffles.
âI was in the hospital for about a week, apparently they pumped my stomach and I only have very minor damage to my internal organs. I had to practically beg them not to take me to the psych ward though.â I chuckle at the memory, pleading with the doctors that I was fine and it was all just a mistake, even though that couldnât have been further from the truth.
âI had no idea that Carol and Tommy did that to you.â Steve admits, dropping the joint into the lake as he clenches his fists tightly at the thought of what took place in that alleyway. âI donât expect you to forgive me, I could spend my life apologizing to you and it still wouldnât be enough.â
Iâve never seen Steve so emotional before, candidly breaking down in the most vulnerable way as he allows his sobs to be released. Face flushed scarlet and throat raw from how much he is wailing. I thought I would feel better if I made him feel the same as he made me feel. If I made him cry so hard that he thought he would never feel happiness again. However, seeing him in this state doesnât even make me the tiniest bit happier. It doesnât bring me an ounce of joy to see the boy this way no matter how much I thought I would.
In all honesty, it hurts more so knowing that my words are the cause of the pain and turmoil that Steve is in right now. As much as I had built up such a cold and callous exterior trying desperately to protect myself from the harshness of this world, I know deep down that internally, Iâm nothing like I portray myself to be.
Once he gains his composure, Steve manages to speak through deep breaths, âDo you know whatâs funny?â
His question throws me off guard, tilting my head and raising a brow, alerting him of my piqued interest.
âIâve also tried to block out most of high school. I didnât even recognise you today and couldnât understand why you were acting the way you were. Which I now realize makes me sound like even more of a dickhead.â He laughs quietly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck to relieve the tension within him. âAs soon as I got home, I spent hours, staring at your pictures in the yearbook, remembering everything that we put you through. Iâve never felt more guilty about something in my life and I felt disgusted with myself that I would treat such a beautiful person as though they were anything but.â
âYouâre just saying that.â I retort, not wanting to believe that he would spend so long staring at the photos of me that I hated so much. Not only that but not wanting to believe he could find such photos of me to be beautiful.
âI mean it! I was a stupid, pathetic little boy that just wanted to prove myself to the people that I thought were cool. I never thought about the effect my actions were having on people and now that high schoolâs over, none of that popularity shit matters.â He states, wishing that he could take back all of the cruel things he did to his peers. âNone of it matters. Iâm a fucking loser now. I work at an ice cream store in the mall where I have to wear a stupid sailorâs outfit, I have no college prospects, no girlfriend and I hang out with a bunch of sixteen year olds in my spare time. All that high school shit, it means nothing now.â
âYouâre not a loser Steve Harrington.â I giggle, nudging his shoulder gently with my own. âYouâve just made some very poor decisions that are now biting you on the ass.â
âHey, why arenât you at college? If the yearbook is anything to go by you were one of the smartest people in our grade.â
I try not to feel upset by the boyâs question, knowing he means no harm. However, I also know that as much as Steve has made poor decisions, so have I. Decisions that directly affected my path to college and resulted in me working at the roller rink.
âDidnât study those yearbooks well enough clearly.â I joke, believing that if Iâm able to laugh about my situation then perhaps I wonât burst into tears yet again. âLast year I kind of gave up with school. After what happened junior year, I just didnât see the point in trying anymore. Started skipping classes and when I was there I was too high to learn anything. My grades dropped and so did my chances at college.â
âI really fucked things up for you didnât I?â Steve asks, tone suggesting itâs more of a statement rather than I question.
âThe roller rink isnât so bad, I mean I get to skate for free and the pay is pretty good.âÂ
I can tell he doesnât quite believe me, he knows Iâm bothered about not going to college, despite this, he doesnât push me. Doesnât force me to admit the truth. For that, Iâm thankful.
Casting my gaze over the lake, the first light of the sun shines bright through the treeline. A warm amber glow, illuminating the still water beneath my feet. Birds wake from their slumber and their faint chirps echo across the lake. Thereâs something so peaceful within this moment and for the first time in years I feel as though a weight has been lifted from my chest. One that I was unaware had been weighing me down.
âI should probably be getting home before my parents wake up. Really donât need to be giving my parents another reason to worry about me.â I state, steadily rising to my feet, the warmth instantly escaping my body as the sharp breeze nips at the full length of my body.
âYeah, I should get back too, I should at least try to get some sleep before work.â Steve comments, walking in step with me along the dock.
We walk in silence, the sound of the dark oak creaking beneath our feet. A solemn cloud follows us as we head back to reality, most likely never to speak of this night again. Neither one of us wanting to reflect on the distress we shared at Lovers Lake.
âI think maybe people are right about you.â I declare upon reaching my truck, much to the shock of the boy standing opposite.
âWhat?â He asks, in disbelief at the confession I had just made.
âI think that maybe you are a good guy.âÂ
***
âHave you taken your pills today?â My mom checks, shaking the little orange pill bottle on my desk as though she can feel if it is lighter than yesterday.
âOf course I have.â I mumble, dragging my hands across my face, exhausted from the late night I had endured.
âIâm only checking sweetheart, you know I worry about you.â She wraps her arms around me from behind as she speaks, squeezing me tightly, more so for her own comfort rather than mine. âNow, your dad and I are leaving town for a few nights. He has a meeting up in Indianapolis, but if you donât feel like youâre well enough to stay here alone with Dusty then I am more than happy to stay behind.â
âMom, Iâll be fine, honestly.â I whine, feeling guilty that she dwells on my wellbeing so much. âI promise.â
I love my parents. I really and truly do, more than anything on this earth. Nevertheless our relationship has been somewhat strained since the events of sophomore year. My mom treats me like Iâm made of glass, one wrong move and Iâll shatter into one million tiny pieces. My dad is arguably even worse, refusing to even acknowledge what took place nor speaking on the topic of my mental stability. Dustin tries his hardest to make things feel normal, but thereâs only so much a sixteen year old can do to try and hold their family in place.
Not only do I feel guilty about the way I make my parents stress about me, but I also feel guilty for the way this has affected Dustin. Our parents are often so preoccupied with ensuring that Iâm well and doing fine, that they often forget about their other child. Sometimes, it feels as if Iâm the only person that notices Dustinâs presence. Or lack thereof, what with him spending more and more time with his friends and Steve. Frequently returning home stressed, anxious or just generally in a bad mood and in all honesty his behavior has started to concern me. Though it appears that I may have been the only one to notice.
âI need a ride to Starcourt.â As if on cue, Dustinâs head pops around my bedroom door, demanding yet another ride.
âYour manners really could use some work kid.â I tell him, to which he shrugs and I find myself grabbing my keys with less reluctance than I had the previous day.
The drive to the mall passes by a lot faster than it had on the uncomfortable journey the day before. Filled with Dustin singing at the top of his lungs to whatever cheesy pop song was playing on the radio and me secretly hoping deep down that Iâll catch a glimpse, or even better a chance to talk to Steve again.Â
My former bully had somehow managed to penetrate my thoughts ever since we departed ways in the early hours of the morning. Consumed by the thoughts of where we go from here, was our emotional conversation reserved for that one night only or would we develop a casual friendship? As much as I was pretending like nothing had happened, I was itching to know how Steve was feeling.
Before I know it, Iâm turning off the ignition and the boy in question is directly in my eyeline. Lazily smoking a cigarette against the side of the entrance to the mall. Presumably waiting for my little brother in order to escort him into Scoops Ahoy, so he is unable to cause any mischief on his way to the store.
Steve spots my truck almost instantly and I could be mistaken, but it certainly looks as though his eyes lock on mine straight away. I hardly register Dustin jumping out of the truck as Steve flicks the cigarette butt to the ground, strolling towards the truck and before I can stop myself Iâm climbing out of my seat. Much to the surprise of my brother.
âHi.â Steve mumbles nervously, a soft rose tint settling upon his cheeks.
âHi.â I reply just as awkwardly, my face no doubt the same shade as his.
âOkay, this is weird. Iâm just gonna-â Dustin uncomfortably points towards the main doors before hurrying off in that direction, eager to get away from whatever is happening between Steve and I.
âSo about last night-â
âI want to forgive you.â
We both speak at the same time, sharing anxious smiles as neither of us dares to make the first move. Though after taking a deep breath, I find myself being the one to break the tension.
âI want to forgive you. I meant what I said, that I think youâre a good guy.â I state, timidly picking at my fingers as I try to look anywhere other than the dark haired boy. âI donât think Iâm fully there yet, I think Iâve still got some shit that I need to work through but Iâd like to. You donât deserve to be hated for the stuff you did as a kid, especially when I can see how hard youâre trying to be a better person.â
Iâve barely finished speaking when Steveâs arms are wrapped firmly around my shoulders, pulling me into a firm hug and for whatever strange reason, I hug him back. Cautiously sliding my arms around his toned waist and allowing my head to rest against his chest. Inhaling his scent deeply, an intense sandalwood with a hint of cigarette smoke and despite all of my logic within me screaming to snap out of it, I canât resist his musk, finding myself strongly intoxicated by it.
âI swear you wonât regret it, Iâm going to spend every day making it up to you for as long as I live.â Steve mutters into my hair, gently pulling away from me once he stops speaking.
âHow about we start with a free ice cream and go from there?â I ask cheekily, causing him to beam cheerfully at me with a swift nod.
âIâm sure I can manage that.â He laughs, before we make our way into the mall, joining the group of kids inside Scoops Ahoy, much to Dustinâs disapproval at my presence.
Sliding into the booth besides Max, Iâm acutely aware of the way the group huddles closer together, voices lowering to no louder than a whisper. Even Eddie Munson, whoâs voice can usually be heard for miles, speaks in a hushed voice.Â
Narrowing my eyes, I try to pick up any of the conversation, only able to hear certain words here and there. Their side of the table is scattered with papers and Iâm able to make out what looks like a map of Starcourt. Although I am completely baffled, if not slightly annoyed at their secrecy, I can only assume that this has something to do with one of their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.
âYou and Harrington made up then?â Robin inquires when I join her at the counter, resting my elbows against the cool marble.
âKind of. I donât know, we talked for hours last night and as much as I want to hate him, I just canât.â
Robin can sense how difficult it is for me to acknowledge my willingness to believe her friend has changed. She knows that itâll be a long road going forward, and yet sheâs unable to hide her pride. Not only at her friend for accepting the suffering he caused, but also at my openness to trust that somehow Steve isnât such a bad guy.
âYeah Iâve heard, he hasnât been able to talk about anything else other than the heart to heart you two shared last night. Iâm really proud of him, heâs come a long way.â Robin explains, busying herself with preparing a milkshake that she smoothly slides my way with a knowing wink. âConsider that on me, you deserve it, Iâm not sure I wouldâve been able to make my childhood bullies confront their own actions the same way you did. It took real guts.â
âAs much as I would like to take credit, I think the weed was probably more to thank.â I disclose, taking a short sip of the strawberry treat in front of me. âI have a tendency to get real honest when Iâm high.â
âDonât I know it sweetheart.â Eddie chortles, dipping his finger into the cream atop my milkshake and licking it off dramatically.
âEw get your own!â I groan, pulling the glass away from the metalhead as he tries to swipe some more cream.
âWhereâs Harrington anyway? Those little dickheads are going over our game plan and apparently he is a pivotal part in their plan and is needed right away.â The boy asks Robin, eyes scanning the room as if Steve is hiding in one of the red leather booths.
âHeâs in the back, apparently he wanted to make Y/Nâs ice cream extra special.â Robin speaks, nodding her head towards the staff only door.
âWhatâs he gonna do? Jizz on it?â The moment the words leave his mouth, Robin and I are both groaning, disgusted by the question.
âDo you have to be so repulsive all of the time?â I ask, hearing the squeak of a door followed by rapid footsteps.
âI didnât hear any complaints when my mouth was between your legs!â
âThatâs because you canât speak whilst you're down there!â
So caught up in our current argument, I fail to spot Steve uneasily standing at the other side of the counter. A large scoop of cherry ice cream sits in a tub before him, decorated elegantly with a large helping of sprinkles, pieces of chocolate and a singular maraschino cherry placed neatly on top.
âIs this a bad time?â He questions hesitantly, carefully observing Eddie and I, a twinge of what I can only perceive as jealousy flashes across his face. However, it disappears before I analyze it any further.Â
âNo, no. Not a bad time at all.â The words tumble out of my mouth with haste, Robin struggling to hide the amused expression on her face as she witnesses the tension between us.
âOne scoop of cherry swirl, with all the toppings. On me, as promised.â He announces gleefully, pushing it towards me with a small plastic spoon, which I am more than happy to accept.
âThank you.â
I delicately place the cherry between my lips, pulling it from the stem which I then twist between my fingers absentmindedly. Though, I feel the warmth rising to my cheeks as I catch sight of the three of them staring at me, eyes trained on my mouth.
âI donât think Iâve ever met someone that can make eating fruit look so hot.â Eddie comments, pupils blown out causing me to grimace.
âHey Steve! We need to go over the plan!â Lucasâ yell, alleviates the awkwardness of the current situation.
âAlways the goddamn babysitter.â He mutters under his breath, offering me an apologetic glance before meandering over to the group of youths, Eddie Munson in tow.
âNow I donât want to alarm you, especially not with how fresh your reconciliation with Steve is but I think he may have a teeny tiny crush on you.â Robin whispers, moving her head closer to mine in an effort to remain inconspicuous.Â
âWhat? No, no, heâs just being nice is all.â I shut down her theory quickly, fixating my gaze on the melting ice cream so as not to reveal the bashfulness slapped across my face. âAnyway, whatâs that all about? New campaign? I didnât think D&D would be the sort of things you and Steve would be into.â
âI see what youâre doing and Iâm just going to go along with it.â Robin says, referencing the fact that I am so obviously trying to change the subject. She turns away from, as she continues to speak, occupying herself with refilling the toppings station. âItâs just a stupid thing theyâre planning, some big quest. Steve and I just kind of got roped into it I guess, but itâs not so bad.â
Her response is vague and leaves me with more questions than I previously had, not entirely believing that her and Steve could possibly be lame enough to enjoy the fictional realms of Dungeons and Dragons. I let it slide though, thankful that she didnât push me to discuss the possibility of Steve Harrington liking me and so I return the favor. Accepting that there is a very probable, most likely embarrassing reason that theyâre not telling me about their secret activities.
***
Most young people would kill for the opportunity to have an empty house. Itâs the time to throw wild parties or hook up with a guy without having to sneak around or risk being caught by nose parents. Or even worse, younger siblings. Had I been a normal eighteen year old girl, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be doing exactly that.
Instead, Iâm lounging on my bed, recapping the events of the past couple of days to my diary as I try to fill the deafening sound of silence with the beautiful vocals of Stevie Nicks. Iâd never truly realized just how eerie and isolating our home could be without the usual noise of my family. No football game broadcast on the television, or the clattering of pots in the kitchen, not even the sound of Dustin screaming down his walkie talkie. It fills me with a sense of unease that I canât seem to shake.
Just as Iâm about to try and fill the void by running the bathtub to take a relaxing soak, I become distracted by the high pitched shrill of the phone on my bedside table. Curiosity engulfing me and I wonder who could be calling me at such a late hour. Better yet, who has got the phone number that is usually only reserved for Eddie or my parents.
âY/N, I donât have much time so you have to listen to me carefully!â Steveâs voice is full of panic as he hurriedly speaks down the line, my body instantly going stiff at the urgency of his tone. âIâm so sorry and I shouldâve told you sooner but Dustin was adamant that he wanted to keep you out of it.â
âOut of what? Whatâs going on? Is Dustin okay?âÂ
âI canât explain other the phone, youâd never believe me anyway, but we really need your help. Just get to the Starcourt as soon as you can, please. I wouldnât ask if it werenât important.â Steve spits out, the uproar of what sounds like wind almost drowning him out. âAnd bring a weapon!â
With that, the line cuts off. I remain still, nostrils flared as my hands continue to hold on to the phone, knuckles white. My heart feels like it is about to burst violently out of my chest and I struggle to gain my composure with such short, rapid breaths.
âOkay, itâs gonna be okay. Iâm sure itâs nothing, they probably just need a ride again.â I mumble to myself, grabbing my keys and racing down the stairs. âYeah, that makes total sense, I mean a girl should always carry a weapon when alone at night.â
Hands trembling furiously, I stand opposite my dadâs rifle cabinet, staring at the gun through the sheer glass. Questioning whether Iâm truly about to take his property. Iâve only shot a gun once, I was twelve and my dad took me hunting. It didnât become a regular thing, my dad refusing to take me again after I burst into tears upon shooting a deer.
Despite the fear racing through my body, before I can even think about what Iâm doing, Iâm grabbing a vase off one of the shelves. Using all of my strength to smash it straight into the glass, thousands of miniscule shards flying everywhere. Flinching as it hits me with force, ripping open small wounds across the exposed skin of my face, neck and arms. Though I only really register the injuries on my hand, the flesh of my knuckles shredded brutally from where my hand made contact with the pane. Vase doing little to take the extent of the collision.
A shaky exhale escapes my throat, grabbing the rifle despite my second thoughts. Sticky, crimson liquid dripping against the heel of the gun, staining the burnt mahogany.Â
âSorry dad.â I speak quietly, frowning slightly upon seeing the mess of broken glass across the lounge.
In my hurry to leave, I donât even bother to lock the doors of our house. Focusing on nothing other than getting to Starcourt as quickly as I physically can. Throwing the gun carelessly on my passenger seat, Iâm in autopilot as I start the engine. My driving being much more reckless than usual, ignoring speed limits and stop signs in my race to get to the mall.Â
The closer I get, the more I start to question what type of danger I am just about to get myself into. Sky above the large building an array of violet and sapphire amidst the dark black of the night. Wind whirling harshly around my truck, the closer I get. It feels reminiscent of a tornado, a ruthless storm that holds no mercy.
Arriving in the parking lot, Iâm able to see a singular car parked by the entry doors. Nancy, Jonathan, Will and Lucas scurry around the vehicle, clearly in search of something and donât seem to care at all about the volatile weather that Hawkins is experiencing.
âHey, whatâs going on? Whereâs Dustin?â I shout, rifle in hand as I sprint towards the burgundy car. The group ignoring my arrival and instead climbing into the vehicleâs interior.
Squeezing myself in besides Will and Lucas, itâs only at that moment that they acknowledge me. Faces ranging from confusion, to shock, to anger. Not a single one of them displays any positive emotion at my being there.
âWhat are you doing here?â Jonathan asks, voice raised and tone harsh, wounding me more so than I thought possible.
âWhere the fuck is Dustin?â I spit, solely caring about ensuring the safety of my baby brother. Knowing that if anything happened to him I would never forgive myself. âWhere the fuck is my brother?â
âI donât know, okay Y/N. Heâs with Erica!â Nancy yells, preoccupied with pulling open the glove compartment and rooting around urgently.
âErica? Erica as in your ten year old sister?â I snap, attention diverted towards Lucas who stares at me with worry, afraid of how I am about to react. âWhat the actual fuck?â
âLook I donât know if youâve noticed but weâre kind of in the middle of something and you really shouldnât be here.â Nancy tells me, finally turning herself to look at me from the passenger seat.
Iâve never seen her look so troubled, face free of makeup and stress lines prominent. Sheâs too young to look as agonized as she does, asserting to me that whatever is currently taking place is far beyond what I could have ever imagined. Far more threatening than anything I could dream up.Â
âI think Iâve got it.â Jonathan announces, a chorus of relieved sighs escaping the group.Â
âGet it started then.â Nancy pushes, watching anxiously as Jonathan begins to fiddle with the car wires, hands clammy from the stress of the current circumstances.
âGuys, we could have a problem.â Will mutters, eyes trained out of the window to the otherside of the parking lot.
A car sits ominously, headlights pointing directly towards us. Nancy and Jonathan both curse under their breath, and despite having no knowledge about what is taking place, even I can understand that this is clearly not a good sign. Even worse when the vehicle begins to drive slowly straight at us.
Unaware of my own actions and unable to stop myself, Iâm rounding the car confidently. Standing right in the path of the oncoming vehicle, I raise the rifle, releasing the safety and pointing directly towards what I can assume is the driverâs seat. Struggling to see effectively against the bright beam of the headlights.
My move seems to threaten the driver, the car gaining speed and barrelling at us with no sign of stopping. Despite the fear that has overcome me since receiving Steveâs call, whilst standing in the path of immediate peril, I feel weirdly at ease. Unbothered by the potential risk of death that I am face to face with.Â
âWhat are you doing?â I hear Nancy scream, her voice sounds as though it is miles away when I know in reality she is almost right behind me, tucked away inside the automobile.
Steadying my breath, I squint my eyes in an attempt to better my aim, before releasing the trigger. Having no time to think about the consequences of my actions nor the moral implications of shooting at a living being that formerly plagued my mind, releasing bullet after bullet as the driver steps on the gas. Accelerating at such an extreme pace that I can only fire so much before having to accept my twisted fate.
With the car only mere feet away, I drop the gun, fearing that no matter how well I shoot, there is no winning this fight. Grabbing my head, in a weak attempt to protect myself, I drop to the ground, eyes closed tightly as I prepare to face the impact.Â
Iâve never been a religious person, but the only thoughts flying around my brain are prayers of protecting my family. Prayers of Dustinâs safety as he faces whatever is coming for him. Prayers that my passing is swift and painless. Prayers that this is all over quickly.
And yet, nothing comes.Â
Warily, I open my eyes, removing my hands from my cautiously, only to see none other than Steve Harrington, reeling from the impact of smashing his car straight into the one headed my way. His eyes find mine and my heart stops, the look of sheer relief on his face is indescribable.Â
Rising to my feet, Steveâs hurriedly climbing out of the vehicle and by my side in a second. Face bloodied and bruised, despite that, heâs solely focused on me, scanning over me intently, worriedly taking in all the minor wounds I obtained from shattering the rifle cabinet.
âWhat happened to your hand?â Heâs asking breathlessly, my mind preoccupied with the knowledge that he just put himself in harm's way to save my life.Â
I canât find the words to say anything as I take in the sight of his swollen eye and the stains of dried blood coating the lower half of his face. My mouth opens to speak and no words seem to slip out, mesmerized by Steveâs beauty in spite of his unsightly injuries.
Blaming the adrenaline, I find myself throwing my arms around the boyâs neck, pulling him into me and squeezing tightly. His hands settle on my hips, touch firm, fearing that if he were to let go that I would simply disappear. Absentmindedly, my fingers delicately thread through the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. Needing to be close to him.
âYou just saved my life.â
My voice is no louder than a whisper, breath hot against his neck as I nuzzle myself closer to him. Feeling safe and secure in his embrace. Desperately needing the comfort right now, even if it is coming from the most unexpected of places.
âUh guys! We should be getting out of here! Like now!â I hear Robin shout, releasing myself from Steveâs hold to see that not only has Jonathan managed to get their car started but also that Billy Hargrove is now stumbling out of his vehicle and has his sights set on us once again.
Neither of us need to say a word, abandoning my truck in the Starcourt parking lot and speeding away from the mall and ultimately the danger that lies in wait there.Â
***
The Battle of Starcourt resulted in the mall burning to the ground. Dustin and I reunited later that night at Steveâs house, the pair of them, alongside Robin, explained everything to me over a much needed pot of tea. Elâs powers, demogorgons, Russian soldiers and the Mind Flayer. It was certainly a lot to take in and I could only apologize to my brother for not being there for him throughout all of this taking place. Wishing I could have helped him from the start.
Itâs been a struggle adjusting to my daily life for the past couple of days. Dustinâs been staying at the Byersâ household, wanting the comfort of his friends and with a lack of parental presence in our home, the place feels cold. I can understand his decision completely, yet I canât help but feel alone in such a big house.
I spend my nights awake, unable to sleep, and when I do manage to drift off, Iâm plagued by nightmares of that car barreling towards me. My days arenât any better. Alone with my thoughts at the roller rink, dreaming up all of the ways that the events of the night could have gone differently, most resulting in the deaths of either Dustin and I. And if Iâm not at work, I lounge around my home, hopelessly trying to occupy my mind from the swirling images of Starcourt.Â
Steve and I haven't spoke since that night, more so my fault than his. Iâd closed myself off again, become a recluse and struggled to leave the house with the exception of work. I believed that my mind had been playing tricks on me that night when I found myself enamored by his beauty. Or that it was simply the adrenaline and the intensity of the circumstances that I needed his embrace. However, the more I think about it, the more I believe that it was a decision of the heart rather than caused by the stress of the night.
Standing outside the Harrington household, I wonder if I am making a huge mistake. I hadnât intended to come here, only leaving my house to take a brisk walk and yet here I find myself, fist raised in preparation to knock. Though making no effort to do so. In all honesty, I think I just need to talk to somebody about what transpired and Steve is the only person that I can willingly open up to.
âY/N?â The boyâs voice startles me, heâs standing in the doorway dressed in plaid pajama pants and a loose black sweater. The wounds on his face are still prominent, though evidently more healed than the last time I had seen him.
âIâm sorry, I was going for a walk but I guess I just instinctively came here. My house is too quiet and I just really need to talk to somebody.â I confess, staring down at my bandaged hand so as to not make eye contact with Steve.
âYou walked here?â Heâs shocked by my admission, not that Iâm surprised. Living on the other side of town, the walk to his house is easily an hour long, if not more.
âWell my truck kind of went down with the mall.â I laugh softly, though it sounds more forced than I intended.Â
âYou shouldâve called, I wouldâve picked you up.â He tells me, voice gentle as he opens the door for me to enter his home, following me through to the lounge where we collapse onto the couch.
He has a small fire crackling away, the orange embers lighting up the room and subsequently offering a toastiness in comparison to the chilly night air.
âWhatâs going on? Are you?â Thereâs a tenderness to his voice, speaking to me the way you would speak to a timid animal so as not to frighten them. Itâs sweet.
âDo you get nightmares from that night?â I ask shyly, not wanting him to view me as weak for struggling with the things that occurred.
Steve sighs, settling further into the couch as he takes his time figuring out how to say what he wants to get across. Part of him wanting to lie and pretend that everything is fine, the other part of him knowing that he should just be honest and recognize his feelings.
âYeah.â Steve settles on the one word reply, deciding it may be the better option rather than confessing the truth as to what occurs in these nightmares.
âI havenât been sleeping much, everytime I do, all I see is that car. Or Dustinâs lifeless body and itâs horrible. Waking up alone, hyperventilating, nobody there to tell me itâll be okay. I donât know how I can keep going like this.â I admit, daring to look at the boy and noticing the pained expression on his face.
âCan I be honest?â He whispers, words so quiet I almost donât hear them. Nodding nervously, his eyes fall to his lap as he speaks. âEverytime I shut my eyes, I can only think about what wouldâve happened had I not got to you in time.â
âBut you did-â
âYou wouldâve died, you wouldâve died and it wouldâve been my fault because I was the one who asked you to come.â Heâs crying as he talks, recounting that night and what could have been.
âSteve, you did save me. Youâre the entire reason that Iâm sitting here right here now. Youâre a hero Steve Harrington.â I tell him, shuffling closer and taking his hands in mine. To which he brushes his fingers over my bandaged knuckles. âA very stupid, idiotic, reckless hero. But a hero nonetheless.â
âI wouldâve never forgiven myself if Iâd let you die. Fuck, I canât even forgive myself for the way I treated you in school.â He states, gazing over my face and taking in the handful of miniscule cuts scattered across my cheeks from the shattering of the cabinet.
âWould it help if I told you that I forgive you?â I ask, soft smile settled upon my lips.
âAre you sure? I know I hurt you and I donât want you to feel like you have to forgive me because of what happened and-â
âSteve, I forgive you.â I cut him off, squeezing his hands as I do so. âNot just because of what happened. I mean Iâd probably be a shitty person if I didnât forgive you when you deliberately put your own life at risk to save mine but, youâre a good person. I can see that now. Youâre a really good person with a really good heart and in all honesty I think-â
My heart jumps to my throat as I realize what Iâm about to confess. Questioning how I even got myself into this mess. If you told sixteen year old me that only two years later I would be sitting on the couch of my nemesis about to own up to the feelings that I may or may not have for him, she wouldâve laughed in your face.
âCan I kiss you?â Steve asks softly, before I am able to finish what Iâm saying, thankful that I no longer have to find the words.
âIâd really like that.â
The boyâs hand is gentle as he cups my cheek, apprehensively bringing his face to my own and brushing his lips lightly over mine. Heâs cautious at first, testing out the waters to ensure that I am truly comfortable. Though, when I push myself closer, fisting his sweater in my hands, he exerts the passion that he had been holding black. Lips moving in sync with mine and bringing his free hand to caress my waist delicately. As the heat grows and any nerves wash away, he effortlessly slides his tongue into my mouth. Shy whimper escaping my mouth as he does so.
When he pulls away, I donât miss the string of saliva that connects our lips to one another and canât help but smile. Heart fluttering as Steveâs eyes focus on me adoringly.
âI guess all the rumors were right.â I tease as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, tilting his head slightly at my words. âYou really are good at that, King Steve.â
âOh ha ha.â He replies sarcastically, pulling me into his side and allowing me to rest my head on his chest. Listening intently to the steady beat of his heart.
âCan I stay here tonight? I canât face another night alone.â I ask, tracing circles across his stomach, his hands stroking my hair lightly.
âIâd like that.â
Whilst I lay in the arms of Steve Harrington, I couldnât help but feel as though things were starting to look up for me. Sure, it didnât happen in the way that I was expecting or perhaps wanted. I certainly could have done without the monsters but right now, I finally felt at peace. Even if it was only for a little bit.
#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfiction#Steve Harrington fic#Steve Harrington x female!reader#Steve Harrington x henderson!reader#robin buckley#dustin henderson#stranger things fic#stranger things au#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things
376 notes
¡
View notes
Text
was this written to solve my own inconsistencies because i keep forgetting Eddie literally hotwired the RV, they donât need keys, why do you keep mentioning keys, you fool? maybe. do i also think theyâd be this stupid? yes. â¤ď¸
âOh, son of a bitch,â Dustin says, midway to The War Zone.
Steve, who is used to this sort of outburst for things as mild as Dustin forgetting just one out of the eight pens on his person, does not react.
However EddieâHellfire rants asideâis not quite as familiar yet. He jumps practically a foot in the air.
âJesus Christ, what now?â
All Dustin offers by way of explanation is an accusatory, âYou,â pointing his finger right in Eddieâs face.
And then Eddie sees whatâs dangling from said finger.
â⌠Oh.â
âWhat?â Steve says, glancing at the rearview mirror; Eddie quickly blocks Dustin from view, goes right up on his tiptoes and spreads his arms wide, curses when Dustin throws the keysâ
âto Max, who catches them one-handed, who gives Eddie a grin thatâs not so much pitying as it is evil, and then sheâ
âthrows them to Lucas, and he somehow gets the metal ring to land on his finger, like heâs in a movie, and he twirls them round and round until Max snorts, and he grins like that had been his aim all along.
âSinclair,â Eddie says, âI am begging you.â
âIâm not hearing much about whatâs in it for him,â Erica says.
Aha! Eddie zeroes in on Erica and blocks her from Lucas, like a very unjust game of Keep Away.
âDude,â Lucas says, affronted, âthatâs not fair.â
Eddie has the decency to look a bit ashamed. Not too ashamed to stop because he is a pathetic man, but at least Steve still hasnât noticed theâ
âLucas,â Erica says, in the aggrieved tones of a sister whoâs despaired at him many, many times. âYouâre on the basketball team. Just do a pass fake, nerd.â
Lucas feigns to the left, and Eddie falls for itâbut, in what heâs sure is a completely unsportsmanlike move, he uses his height to his advantage, jumpsâŚ
And drops the keys with a clatter.
Steve must instantly recognise the sound for what it is, because he starts to cackle.
Eddieâs only saving grace is that Steve is driving, so at least he canât seeâ
âEddieâs going, like, super red in the face right now,â Dustin narrates helpfully.
âScarlet,â Lucas says.
âVermillion,â Robin pipes up from the floor.
âOoh,â Dustin, Lucas, and Max chorus, impressed. Jesus Christ, they almost harmonize.
âYeah, Eddie,â Steve says dryly, âyou fucking moron. How did you miss those, itâs not like you had literally anything else on your mind.â
âYouâre a real gentleman, Harrington, anyone ever told you that?â Eddie says weakly.
âMaybe once or twice,â Steve says, drawing it out teasingly, as if he means not often enough.
âWell, at least we got on the road,â Nancy says. Her voice quivers like sheâs trying not to laughâperched on the table, eyes shining with amusement. âAnd it did look pretty cool, Eddie.â
Eddie thinks this is an incredibly generous assessment, considering his main thought while breaking into the RV had been donât get stuck in the window, Jesus Christ.
And then⌠like, he didnât expect Steve to actually come up and watch him hotwire the damn thing, like, with rapt attention, so close that Eddie was kinda concerned heâd electrocute himself instead. Honestly, it was a miracle he got the engine started.
âThatâs sweet of you, Wheeler, but Iâm self-aware.â
âSince when?â Erica says.
Underneath everyoneâs laughter, Steve grins and says, âHey, donât worry, man.â He catches Eddieâs eye in the rearview mirror, winks. âIt was an educational experience.â
âOh, wow, your face is even redder.â
âHenderson, Iâm gonna put those goddamn keys so far up your ass.â
#in which i kept forgetting what hotwiring actually means so came up with this#they are ridiculous#i love them â¤ď¸#pre steddie#eddie and the party#steddie ficlet#eddie munson ficlet#eddie and dustin#steve x eddie#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington
510 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Once upon a time chapter 10
<first> <prev> <next>
Danny slept more soundly in these two little cat naps with Sam and Tucker (and Jason) present than he had in the last couple of years. Really since the ghost shit started. His first awareness was Tucker saying âno dude, seriously, watch.â Right before Danny remembered to breathe.
âFreakyâŚâ he heard Jason mutter.
Danny opened his eyes. âTechnically dead, remember?â He yawned, stretching in a way that he had been told most people couldnât move in.
âItâs still kinda weird man,â Tucker said without a hint of remorse, even as Danny swatted him. âBut your foodâs done.â That drew Dannyâs full attention. He sat up, taking the plate that had been offered to him. Carefully, Danny blew on the rolls, before popping one into his mouth.
âPâfâctâ he mumbled through his bite.
Sam shook her head. âSo is your big bat friend aware that weâre coming too, as Dannyâs backup?â
âYeah. I told him. Heâs not thrilled but what can he really do. He feels guilty that he missed a chance to help adoption bait.â
âSo he doesnât think Iâm going to go villain on you?â Jason shrugged.
âYou had plenty of time and motivation to do so to me.â
Tuckerâs PDA beeped. He looked down at it. Looked up at Jason. Looked back at it. Showed the results to Sam and Danny. âDoes that meanâŚ?â Danny looked back up at Jason.
âDude. Is your fucking dad Batman?â Danny asked.
âHowâŚ.?â Jason didnât have a good answer to that because if he said no, then in like an hour max, Danny would learn of another lie, but if he said yes, it felt like some sort of weird betrayal against B. âWhat makes you think that?â
âBecause Tucker needed to isolate the crack you guys made into the GIW before he could make sure they havenât done anything about it and⌠Iâm pretty sure the main location came from right where your house is. So itâs either your dad or your butler.â
Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. âPlease be surprised when he tells you. And please let me be the one to tell the Replacement that some random guy followed his hacking trail on a goddamn PDA, and was able to deduce Batmanâs identity from it. Heâs gonna froth at the mouth and I need to be the one to cause that.â
âWhoâs the Replacement?â Sam asked.
âThe kid that became Robin after me. He and Oracle led the break in to that site.â Danny crunched another couple pizza rolls, while Tucker looked triumphant.
âWatch, theyâre like a big creepy family of crime fighting rich people.â Danny nudged his friends between bites. Jason forced himself to laugh along.
âYou might never know. B said he was the only one he was going to out tonight.â Jason hedged, trying to play up the mysterious vibe.
The trio shared a look as Danny finished off the rest of his pizza rolls. âRight. Anyways. Youâre not going to like blindfold us right? We can just go in like normal people? Or is he going to come to us?â
âHeâll send a car when weâre ready. No blindfolds.â
âGood because Iâm not doing kinky stuff with someone I havenât even kissed yet.â Danny said through another yawn, stretching out obliviously.
Jason stared, open mouthed.
âWhatâŚ?â Danny asked when he opened one eye mid stretch. He ran back what he just said, face turning scarlet. âI mean⌠fuck. You know what I mean.â He groused, purposefully not looking at the other three. âYou try not really sleeping for five years and see where it gets you.â
Tucker and Sam burst into a fit of laughter. âCalled it.â Sam announced, fist bumping Tucker and deftly dodging the swat.
âI canât believe Iâm still friends with you two assholes.â Danny grumbled, still red. âLetâs get this execution over withâŚâ
Bruce sent Alfred in the town car to pick them up. âMaster Jason, it is good to see you are making friends.â Alfredâs voice was genuinely caring beneath the dry delivery.
âYeah yeah. A, these are Danny, Tucker and Sam. Three new people for you to feed.â
âMost excellent, I am always being told that I cook entirely too much.â Feeding a family of vigilantes that never seem to sit still requires a lot of food after all. He opened the back door gesturing for them to enter. âSirs. Maâam. Master Jason, I assume you will be taking âshotgunâ?â
Danny, Tucker and Sam slid into the car, squishing Danny in the middle seat. Jason went around and opened his own door as Alfred closed the back. âYeah. Iâm not feeling like the trunk tonight.â
The ride to the manor was tense, even though Alfred did his best to settle it out by talking about different foods in the fridge that needed to be eaten if âyou kidsâ -Jason included- would be amenable.
For Danny, it was torture on two fronts. First, he had no idea what he was walking into. The second was that even after a pile of pizza rolls, Danny still felt like he had a black hole instead of a stomach. Was that due to the fact his family never seemed to have an adequate volume of non contaminated food, he was a man under 25, a halfa or just hadnât eaten much recently? Not even he knew the answer to that. He was just pretty used to ignoring the feeling.
When the car drove through the manorâs gates, nobody seemed impressed. Which would have been concerning if Jason hadnât remembered seeing the Mansons at galas before. Danny seemed like he was trying to melt through the seats, regretting his choice to come there.
âI swear to fuck if itâs Vlad hereâŚâ he muttered to the two other teens, so quietly Jason almost didnât hear it.
âYouâd feel it wouldnât you?â Tucker asked just as quietly.
âMaybe? If itâs not his domain it might take longerâŚâ
âWell do you feel anything now?â From Sam. Jason watched Alfredâs eyes in the mirror. He was listening too.
âNoâŚ. Not him. This is the domain of something, but I donât know who or what.â Danny tried to look out the window, squinting through the glass to look for Jason didnât know what.
Eventually he shrugged and sat back as the car pulled down the winding drive. It was only as Alfred opened the door to the backseat that something odd happened. Dannyâs breath came out in a single puff of winter condensation, and all three of them tensed. Bruce was standing there, watching them, and all three got out, lining up against the back of the car. Danny seemed to be looking at something, distracted while B was giving them the typical welcome speech, and ushering them inside out of the cool night air. Though the other two didnât seem to be able to see what Danny did, they gave whatever he was looking at a wide berth.
âD?â Tucker asked, hand on Dannyâs arm. He just shook his head.
âNot violent.â He murmured back. âBeen here a long timeâŚâ
That brought up more questions than Jason thought heâd be able to ask in one night. If Bruce heard the exchange he wisely chose to comment on it.
They all followed Bruce into the main sitting room, and the trio sat on the couch while Bruce took one armchair and Jason shoved another to be more lined up with the couch before flopping into it in a way that was sure to make Bâs teeth grit.
âHas Jason told you why Iâve brought you here, chum?â Bruce said to Danny once Alfred had brought them all drinks and an assortment of snacks. Danny immediately set in on the food, eating in a way that was just controlled enough to seem bored.
Danny was about to answer when Sam elbowed him in the side. He finished chewing and swallowed. âHe said youâd explain everything when we got here. I assumed it was because you thought we were dating and wanted to give me the shovel talk.â A pause. âWe arenât.â Another pause. âDating that is. These are good snacks.â Dannyâs eyes kept darting to something over Bruceâs shoulder.
Jason assumed it was to the portrait of the late Waynes. Those eyes had an uncanny habit of seeming to hone in on you wherever you went. Still, before Bruce could process, Jason put on his best terrible southern accent. âAw, honey, no need to hide from my father. No doubt youâll be able to win my dowry in no time.â
âJason.â Bruce sounded constipated. Good. Serves him right for tormenting Danny. âNo, I brought you here because I have something very important to reveal to you.â Bruce waited an appropriately dramatic amount of time, causing Jason to roll his eyes. âI am Batman.â There was a moment before the trio let out the fakest gasp heâd ever heard. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
âWhat? No way!â God their acting was terrible. Danny was even doing that little nervous laugh thing he did when the topic of families came up in class.
âYou knew.â It was less a question and more of a statement, then Bruce turned slowly to focus the full weight of his gaze on Jason. âThey knew.â
Jason waved a hand. âDonât look at me. They figured it out the moment I said we hacked into the GIW. Turns out having one of the hacks originate close to the house meant they could figure it out since they had some basic common sense deduction skills.â
âIâŚ.â Bruce sighed heavily and grabbed his mug, looking for the world like he was regretting every choice heâd ever made leading up to that point.
Danny snorted a laugh but covered it with a really badly acted cough. Sam elbowed him and he made a sort of helpless gesture and gestured off to the side of the room. Interesting.
âCare to share with the rest of the class Danny?â Jason asked, watching him as well as he could without actually sitting up.
âUh⌠well⌠it has to do with uh⌠my powers. The lady over thereâŚâ he gestured again to the side of the room, âjust told uhâŚ. Mr. BatâŚ? Mr. ManâŚ? That itâs what children do, and sheâs had to watch her âLittle Rooâ do that to her for years now.â
At the name, Bruce sat up stock straight, looking around the room. âWhat kind of trick is this?â He growled, defensive. âHow did you know that name?â Danny immediately looked nervous, grabbing onto his friends.
âThe woman told me. The one in the painting.â Bruce and Jason both turned to look up at the portrait of the Waynes and that was all it took for Danny and his friends to completely disappear.
âDanny, come back. Heâs not going to hurt you.â Jason sat up now, trying to locate Danny in the room. He knew the younger man and his friends were still there, he could feel Danny close but it was clear he was trying to reassess the situation.
When Danny didnât immediately appear again, Jason looked around for something he could throw at Bruce. There wasnât anything of an appropriate annoyance level immediately handy so he grabbed the pillow off the couch Danny and his friends had vacated and flung it at Bruce, taking no small amount of pride in the resounding thud it made as the fabric connected with his fatherâs head.
Bruce looked over at him then. âCan I help you?â
âMe? Nah. But you could try to calm Danny down before he gets sick of our shit and ghosts us permanently. Heâs hiding here somewhere.â Had he just made a pun??? He needed to spend less time with Tim.
It was only then that Bruce seemed to shake off his shock at what Danny had said to realize that he and his friends were unable to be seen. âDanny? Chum? Jay is right. I will not harm you. I was justâŚ. Shocked by the fact that my motherâs ghost is still hereâŚ. And making comments.â There was another moment of silence before Danny spoke again.
âOh⌠that being your mom explains a lot. Your dad is here too, but he hasnât said much.â Slowly, Danny became visible again, floating in the corner with his friends, who seemed far too used to being grabbed and floated off with for their own good. He lowered them to the floor first, and fidgeted with his clothes until Jason reached out and gestured to the remaining food.
âEat or Alfred will be disappointed.â Carefully, Danny let his feet touch the floor again, and became fully solid and visible. Only once Danny was okay did Tucker and Sam go and sit back down, grabbing a snack for themselves.
âSorryâŚâ Danny murmured to all of them, retaking his position between his friends.
âNot at all lad. I should be the one apologizing to you. Tonight is the night of unexpected it seems.â Jason noted, that while Bruce should be apologizing, he in fact had not said the words. âI wanted to let you know, personally, that you will be safe from those government stooges while the League still stands. You should not have to be afraid to exist and had we received your messages when they were sent, we would have helped then.â
Danny narrowed his eyes, pausing mid bite. âYouâd help some kid you donât know, just like that?â
Jason snorted then, cutting off Bruceâs response. âDanny, B found like five kids, all with black hair, blue eyes and a tragic backstory. You fit right in.â
Danny looked at Jason for a moment, considering, then at the two ghosts that had stayed in the room. Finally, he nodded. âAlright. Iâll trust you. For now.â
âExcellent. Shall I have Alfred make up a couple of guest rooms?â Bruce looked entirely too happy at the idea of having guests.
âNo, Iâve got my own place. But thanksâŚâ Danny said, trying very hard not to look worried at the invitation.
Jason texted something to Alfred, then stood when the butler entered the room with a large ziploc bag. Jason stood and took it, then dumped the rest of the snacks into the bag before pressing it into Dannyâs hands.
âCâmon. Iâll bring you home. You look exhausted still.â Jason carefully, but casually positioned himself between Bruce and Danny. Not that Jason didnât trust Bruce, but Danny had been through a lot and Jason wanted to offer any protection or comfort he could. Danny nodded, standing with his friends. Sam looped one of her arms through his.
âThank you for the food and assurances of Dannyâs safety.â Tucker said diplomatically as Sam pulled Danny after Jason.
#writing#fanfiction#danny fenton#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#jason todd#red hood#dead on main#batfam#dp dc crossover
265 notes
¡
View notes