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mysunshinetemptress · 8 months ago

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Coal

Leah Williamson x singer!reader

Warnings: TW suicide, past abuse, child abuse, alcohol abuse, funeral. If I missed anything let me know. Also thank you to @pers1st for first of all listening to my idea and telling me to write it when I had my doubts about it and secondly for reading over it and helping me, I hope it doesn’t disappoint

You knew the minute he didn’t answer the phone and the unnerving feeling of dread filled your chest that this was it, that you were the last man standing from a life you thought you had both out run, out lived but this, what your brother had just done showed that no matter where you went, how fast you ran you couldn’t leave the sick and twisted past you both had lived through it was a heavy bag you would be forced to carry for the rest of your life.

You and your brother Luca had been born twins in a quite little, middle of nowhere town in New England to a mother who would end up leaving you both in the middle of the night with a heavily abusive father, who would never be charged for the unthinkable things he had inflicted on both you and your brother as he was to high in the police force in your stupid little town, best friends with the Chief had some perks it seemed.

You and your brother had grown up constantly relying on one another to get through the hard terrifying nights, where all you both could wish for was for someone to whisk you both away from it all but this is the real world and the only people who could save you from the nightmare was yourselves.

You had a talent that you had only discovered when you where 13 after a teacher had approached you hearing you singing in the hall, before asking if you wanted to join the choir, you began thinking an extra hour away from home wouldn’t be so bad agreeing only on the lines that Luca could come and sit in the pews as you practiced not wanting to leave him alone to face your fathers abuse alone.

As you both got older you found ways to escape through singing and music, Luca taught himself the piano and you learned guitar before teaching the instruments to each other before you both began recording videos of yourselves and posting them to YouTube while also beginning to write your own songs.

It would take till just after your 19th birthday for both you and Luca to make it out of that stupid little town in New England, both of you deciding to get as far away as possible flying to London England just as your first ever song written by you and produced by Luca blew up “Homesick.” Loving the way stories could so easily be told through country music you decide that it would be the genre you both would focus on, you writing and performing and Luca writing and producing stating he was much to bad of a singer to ever try.

Living in London was a cultural shock for you both coming from a quite town to a big bustling city sure was a change but you couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that not everyone here knew everyone and that you both got to start fresh.

Your label had rented a small two bed apartment for you both in Islington, just north of Central London where you both set up a small studio from the equipment supplied to you both and began working on an EP.

The EP was called Horizons both you and Luca had looked out on a same horizon every morning your entire childhood and hoped it would bring about change, only when you left to London did your Horizons change and so did your life finding it fitting you brought it to your label along with six songs on the EP one of which had already been released as a single.

Horizon

Track 1: Homesick

Track 2: Northern Attitude

Track 3: False Confidence

Track 4: Heavy Eyes

Track 5: Heading South

Track 6: Something in the Orange

Your label loved it approving a date that saw you and Luca able to preform at Country to Country in the O2, with your small set and unknown names your both were one of the first to perform, but feeling the rush of the crowd just after leaving the stage singing songs you both had written about parts of your childhood and leaving it behind felt magical and the crowd seemed to love it.

But that night wasn’t just the night you had both agreed that this is what you wanted to do, it was also the night you swore you found a four leaf clover. Leah had been standing in the crowd with Lydia Williams both big country music fans when she felt her breath hitch in her throat at the sight of you. You stood on stage in a simple pair of black jeans, white top with some red writing she couldn’t make out and a guitar smiling at the boy at the piano before nodding to the band and when you began singing Leah swore she had felt her heart stop from how quick it was beating.

You and Luca had made your way down to the crowd Luca nudging you saying he was going to get a drink as you nodded making your way to stand at the back keeping an eye on him as a blonde girl strutted over to you ever so confidently “Hi.” You turned taking your eyes off of Luca as you turned meeting deep blue eyes “Hi.” You smiled back “I’m Leah.” You grasped her hand shaking it your cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling at the blonde-Leah “hi I’m Y/n.” You didn’t notice that Leah seemed to forget to let go of your hand as you both began talking the English girl complementing your set as you complemented her outfit.

Luca turned back from the bar after downing yet another shot and beer looking to see where you had gone chuckling at the sight of you talking happily to a girl still holding her hand, sighing he grabbed three more beers and began walking over to you before clearing his throat and putting on a stern face “Y/n.” You unhappily tore your eyes away from Leah turning to see Luca “Luca this is Leah, Leah this is my twin brother Luca.” Leah’s shoulders seemed to relax at the confirmation he was in fact your brother and not your boyfriend “Beer.” You smiled thanking him before letting go of Leah’s hand and taking it before turning to look at him in surprise as he handed one to Leah “what can’t let your future girlfriend be left out of it can I.” You shoved him slightly as Leah choked on the beer coughing slightly as you apologised rubbing her back. Leah stood up shaking her head “well I better ask you out first then.” You laughed nodding agreeing to give her your phone number before saying goodnight and walking back behind the stage.

In the coming months yourself and Luca travelled promoting your EP both in the Uk and Europe as well as in the States refusing to step foot in New England just incase your father decided to show up, during this small tour you and Leah began talking nonstop either texting or FaceTiming and although Luca wanted to throw a pen at your head and tell you that there was an album that had to be written he couldn’t help but smile at the way your eyes lit up and your entire mood changed when the English girls name appeared on your phone.

Once the small tour was over and you had settled back into London, Leah had worked up enough nerve to officially ask you on a date. You had bid Luca goodnight telling him to not wait up as you ventured into Central London with the blue eyed girl excitement building for your date.

London was everything you ever wanted, you and Leah had been dating for a few months now and not wanting to keep secrets you had sat her down and told her everything, everything about how your mother had decided she couldn’t take it anymore and left both you and Luca stood crying on the porch step as you watched her run down the driveway aged four in the middle of the night, how your fathers abuse only got worse from that point, how as you got older you both felt so hopeless as no one would do anything as he was a police officer and best friend to the Chief of police, how he thought he could change you from being gay when he saw you walking holding another girls hand. Leah had sat eyes pooled with tears grasping your hand so tightly as you told her eyes racking your body and zoning in on every little scare she could see before pulling you into a hug “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry Angel you don’t…you didn’t deserve any of that.” You didn’t cry but simply went limp against her as you felt the weight be lifted off your shoulders now that she knew, Luca had come in a short while later and Leah had moved you off her gently before grabbing him and pulling him into a hug, you watched eyes soft as your heart swelled they way she held him just as tight apologising for his trauma too, trauma she had never inflicted but felt so sick that no one in your town would help you both to scared of the consequences.

You had called Leah your four leafed clover, she was the luckiest thing you had ever found and while your relationship grew and your introduction to both her family and teammates saw that Luca turned to alcohol more than he ever had before.

You were both working on your first album when you had noticed how bad Lucas dependency on alcohol had gotten, writing songs often turned into nights you had to put him to bed he was to drunk to continue, or he wouldn’t show for meetings with the label, or dinner with you and Leah, or Leah’s family to busy sitting in a bar in London. You had called the label after a particularly bad day at one of Leah’s games at the Emirates, where your brother spent the entire match inside at the bar since he couldn’t drink alcohol in view of the pitch, drunk and moody you bid the Williamson’s goodbye apologising for your brother and sending Leah a quick text before dragging him home. The next morning you decided enough was enough and sat him down surprised when he broke down in your arms apologising over and over again that it was the only way he could find peace from it all even for just a few hours, that music simply wasn’t enough at the moment and in a way you understood, Leah gave you the same peace alcohol gave Luca but you knew it wasn’t a healthy option so you gave him an ultimatum, rehab and therapy or no more music, no more writing no more tours nothing. Agreeing to your ultimatum you rang your label telling them that the Album was on hold till Luca was healthy again before dropping him off.

You spent the month Luca was in rehab leaning on Leah and her family’s support, you had told them about yours and Lucas past the same day you dropped him off, and for the first time you knew what it was like to be loved by a mother and father. You cried into Leah’s chest that night until you fell asleep,nothing she said or did could make you stop and she quickly realised you needed this you needed to cry so she let you holding you tight and just reminding you of where you were, with her, with her family both you and Luca were safe. Amanda came up after you had fallen asleep to check on you her own heart breaking at the sight of you, you a girl who had the worst childhood imaginable handed to her and still found away to find love and make her daughter feel so loved, you a girl who was trying desperately to hold everything together for her brother because “he needs me, I’m fine I’ve got Leah but he, Luca needs me to be strong so strong is what I am.” Amanda placed her hand on your head “she’ll be ok Bubs, they both will, we got them.”

Luca had been allowed a visit half way through his rehab, the Williamson’s had all asked if they could come but his sponsor Danny had said it may be to overwhelming and asked for it to just be you, that didn’t stop them from waiting in the car park as you went in to visit him. He was different, brighter, happier and you almost cried at the sight for the first time ever he looked to be enjoying life not just trying to get by. You had ran straight for him sighing as you picked you up into a bear hug squeezing tight “Orlov.” You sighed relaxing into his arms at the use of your nickname.

Orlov a diamond, a cursed diamond and any time you tried to ask him why he had chosen it for you all those years ago he gave you one of two reason “Orlov, a cursed diamond that still shines through it all.” Or “Orlov, because pressure makes diamonds, and I just like the name of that one.” You laughed at the second slightly poetic but still funny just like him.

You had told him how supportive the Williamson’s had been for the both of you, how they were currently sat in the parking lot waiting for an update on him when he grabbed your hand “I’m glad you found people like them, to look after you.” You squeezed his hand “us, look after us they love you just as much.” Lucas didn’t want to believe you but you knew he did deep down, he knew it wasn’t just you that loved him anymore. You proceeded to tell him about you current life as a wag as well about the many songs you had been writing, some of them about your past, but for the first time ever you had also written about love and being in love with Leah. Lucas had told you he had also returned to writing and had a few stacked up ready to go when he was finished and for the first time he seemed happy about what he had written normally you had to tell him it was good, recording worthy and you couldn’t help the hope that bubbled.

15 days later Lucas got out of rehab with his therapy sessions block booked for the next while and for the first time in two months you guys began writing songs together trying to complete the album. Lucas was a changed man, he went to dinner without alcohol something you also did to support him, he attended Leah’s matches with you and actually watched and cheered instead of hiding in the bar and for the first time he seemed to be living.

Leah and her family had supported you both tirelessly and you couldn’t have asked for more, they were the family you had always wished would come and save you both as kids. Leah was around for nearly all of the album creation, Lucas teaching her piano and when he finally deemed her good enough you both agreed she could record it for the album.

Life was good, you both were happy in London writing and hanging out with friends and your found family so why had you woken up in the middle of the night with a feeling of doom looming over you as you untangled from Leah. You had gone into Lucases room to check on him something you had done since you could walk, wanting to make sure his chest would still rise and fall when your father had given you both a particularly hard beating. Only this time his bed was empty, walking into the hall you noticed all the lights were off so where could he be. You decided not to panic and not to wake Leah either instead getting your phone to call him.

As you recounted every move you both had made over the past three months it was obvious, Lucas had been getting all his ducks in a row, checking in on everyone and making sure the album was complete before leaving, but now it was done and set to be released next month he felt it was time.

You felt numb as you sat at the bottom of the stairs, you didn’t know how you knew he was gone, but you had all of a sudden just had the feeling of a missing piece, maybe it was your twin telepathy you both had so wished to have growing up, this was a sick joke if it kicked in now, now when he was gone.

You sat at the bottom of the stairs until you felt Leah’s hand touch your shoulder “Orlov.” Your heart clenched at the nickname, Lucas had given Leah special permission to use it, certain that she wasn’t going anywhere that you had her forever the engagement ring hidden in his dresser, not that you knew, certain that she knew about what you had been through, that she understood the meaning behind your nickname.

You didn’t have time to react as a knock came from your front door, looking at Leah smiling sadly you got up from the stairs and opened the door to two police men “Miss Y/n Y/ln.” You nodded, you didn’t feel Leah come up behind you as you listen to the police officers tell you about your brother, that you needed to identify him before they moved forward. You nodded along to it all before you asked “was he…do you think he was in any pain.” The officer looked at you softly “Hypothermia kicked in before he drowned, he simply closed his eyes and was gone, no pain, no struggle.” You nodded “no pressure.” You mumbled before turning to get dressed.

Leah couldn’t believe it, he was gone, Lucas was gone a boy she loved like a brother and she couldn’t understand why, he was happy, you both were happy with them, writing the album why, why had he done it. She had gone with you to the morgue and had said she would call her mum but every time she tried her fingers froze on the call button and words got caught in her throat. It was you who had done it driving you both to the Williamson’s house Leah unable to look at her family as you asked them all to come to the living room Leah sat beside you head buried into your neck as she grasped you tightly scared that if she let you go you would be gone too.

Amanda had let out a sob as you finished, Jacob got up and left the room and David just stared at you in shock as you held Leah impossibly closer watching this family, your family, Lucases family fall apart at the news, helpless you did what you had done since childhood and decided now was the time for you to stay strong, you could cry later and so you helped with dinner, helped tell the rest of the family, cousins, aunts and uncles and Leah’s grandparents who had adopted you both. The Arsenal girls had been informed all of whom made their way to your house along with the Williamson’s with flowers and food enough to stock the fridge for the next two months offering support and tears for you and your brother

In the coming weeks the Williamson’s helped you plan the funeral, you didn’t know how one went let alone one in England and you often found yourself and David talking to the undertakers for hours organising it. Until finally the day came, everyone had stayed in your house the night before and Amanda had started a big fry before you all headed to the church but you couldn’t eat, you were saying good bye to your brother, your other half, you were about to walk this stupid life alone and for the first time you cursed at him, you both had made it this far why, why did he decide he couldn’t take it anymore.

Leah had held your hand the entire way both of you following the coffin, with Amanda as Jacob, and David along with Leah’s cousins and Danny his sponsor carried him into the church. You got up and said a few words, talking briefly about your childhood before thanking the Williamson’s for everything they had done for you both, thanking Leah for being both you and Lucases rock when you felt like the world was to much. Heading to the crematorium you decided to swap out with one of Leah’s cousins wanting to carry your brother one last time, the sight made Leah sob as Amanda tried to hold her whispering into her ear, but nothing came of it you were saying goodbye to everything you ever knew and all she could do was hold your hand.

After it was all said and done and the after in the pub had finished you found yourself standing in the centre of his bedroom Leah lying asleep in yours. You looked at everything he had, all the pictures his rehab tokens, his guitar and piano, how were you supposed to do this without him, sing without him there beside you, live without him there beside you. You fell back onto his bed reaching your hand under his pillow when it made a crunch noise before finding a letter with your name on it “ORLOV”. You sighed knowing what it was you pulled it open.

Orlov,

I’m gone, I have left you on this earth alone and for that I am truly sorry, I’m sorry that I couldn’t fight any longer but I hope you understand how tired I am. Tired of living this lonely unforgiving life and I hope that someday you will understand, you have have been, my rock, my best friend and my twin sister through the hardest life no child should have to live, But you have come through it stronger, you have come through the it all a diamond in the rough. You see you are a diamond, formed under the pressure of our childhood but me, I am coal a dark rock not meant to last long on this earth.

I hope you know I have decided that now is the right time to say goodbye as I know you are going to be ok, you have the Williamson’s, the Arsenal and most importantly Leah. She is it for you, she is the only person you will ever need, she is your alcohol (bad comparison I know, she’s a lot healthier.) you are ready, ready to take on this life and conquer the world, but remember it’s ok to slip as long as you don’t fall.

One question you always asked me growing up was what did I think heaven looked like and I always told you I don’t know, but I do heaven is watching you fall in love with that girl sleeping in your room, watching you find a family who loves you the way you deserve that is heaven I love you always and forever.

I’ll be watching from stars Orlov .

Lucas TB

For the first time in weeks you cried, no you sobbed gut wrenching sobs and Leah found herself sprinting from your bed room catching you as you fell from the bed holding you tight whispering reassuring words into your ear crying along with you as you cried and cried, cried for your younger self, you cried for your current self but mostly your cried for him, for Lucas until you cried your self to sleep. Leah carried you back to bed before coming back into Lucases room and picking up his letter turning it over and finding a second one attached to it, opening it she found lyrics to a song and reading over it she felt her heart clench at the meanings behind them all.

The next morning Leah showed you the lyrics and before she even had time to ask if you wanted a coffee you were on the phone with your label canceling the album instead stating you had a different one.

Leah watched you tirelessly in the studio scared that if she left you alone in there you might never come back out, regretting her decision when you had dragged her in to record a piano piece.

A month later you handed your label a brand new album written mostly about you and Lucas with track six being for Leah, the label loved it and pushed for it to be released sooner than expected.

ORLOV

Track 1 Stick Season

Track 2 Bitter Winds

Track 3 Condemned

Track 4 Revival

Track 5 I Remember Everything (Lucas Y/LN, feat Y/n Y/LN)

Track 6 Sun to Me

Track 7 Dawns (Lucas Y/LN, feat Y/n Y/LN)

Track 8 Tourniquet (feat Leah Williamson.)

Track 9 Orange Juice

Track 10 Coal

With Leah's unwavering support, you found the strength to honor Lucases memory during the small tour you quickly been sent on leaving the grand piano seat empty until Leah came on to play her part in Tourniquet. You decided to end the small tour in London, your first headline show sold out at the roundhouse already playing five previous dates here due to the demand. Knowing this would be the last time of playing a small venue and with that a chapter closing and you having to enter one without Lucas you sighed retuning the guitar as you spoke to the crowd “My twin brother Lucas wrote this last song I’m about to play.” You cleared your throat looking out into the crowd before turning to the empty piano seat “We had a very hard childhood, but I knew as long as I had him, I’d be ok. Lucas left me on this earth alone just a couple months ago, but he knew something I didn’t, he knew I wasn’t really going to be alone, that I had a family that loved me, a girl who loved me even more and that really he wasn’t leaving he was just tired of his adventures on earth and wanted to see what the stars were like.” You sighed turning back to the crowd “this next song is called coal, and it talks about the pressures of life and I just want you all to know that when you feel like life is to full of pressure that when you can’t seem to find the light at the end of the tunnel that maybe look down you might find your four leaved clover, I got mine she’s in the crowd tonight, but there is always someone nobody here is alone.” You smiled catching Leah’s eyes “this is Coal.”

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wri0thesley · 5 months ago

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hopeless romantic - percy (yandere demon oc) x reader (4.6k)

valentine's day has snuck up on you. somehow you don't think this one is going to be as pleasant as last year's.

cw: this is primarily a horror work. kidnapped reader, captive reader, mental torture. food warning, claustrophobia. mentions of (non-explicit): insects, emetophobia, dental trauma. general hopelessness and manipulation. REALLY fuck this guy!

a/n: for a very quick primer on percy, please read this, and/or see this!

(also i mentioned this last time i wrote something for lucas but getting a commission for one of my own ocs is so WILDLY exciting and flattering. waaah!!!)

this was a commissioned work.

You didn’t consider yourself a hopeless romantic.

Perhaps you consider yourself a bit of a romantic, in that you’d always enjoyed a classic love story; re-read your copy of Pride and Prejudice until it had fallen apart, had occasional daydreams of handsome suitors and the swirl of a masquerade ball, had perhaps watched Labyrinth too often as a young woman and wondered ‘what if’ about the Goblin King and his domain--

But you had thought you knew enough not to expect fiction from real life. No balls for you; no impassioned declarations of love soaked to the bone, no royal promising he would move the world for you if only you asked. You had thought you would be content with a bouquet of flowers - a smile, a squeeze of the hand whilst watching a romantic comedy, a kiss goodnight that was a little awkward with a clash of teeth and tongue. That was the kind of life, you told yourself, that waited for an average person like you - and that, too, would be enough. Because companionship would be enough; somebody to walk through life with, somebody who understood you, somebody who would cuddle up to you at night.

And then you had met Percy.

You hadn’t been able to believe your luck.

A man almost exactly like you’d imagined? Someone who held the door open for you and smiled so softly it made you ache, who would sit with you and talk about books and whatever else passed through your minds for as long as you wanted? Always seeming to know what to say, always there for you - he’d brought you a bouquet of roses for your first date, for God’s sake. And though you’d been anxious about the ostentation of them, holding them at the restaurant, the way people seemed to be staring at you from every table . . . you had bit back the nervousness and given him a shaking smile and let yourself be swept off your feet.

You wish that you’d seen the signs then.

Maybe you had? Maybe you’d noticed them all and simply let them roll off of you instead, water off a duck’s back, because if you let Percy go you’d surely never find anyone like him again? And they had seemed such little things, too. Waiting just a fraction of a moment too long to comfort you when you were frightened or anxious - almost as if he was letting the moment shimmer in the air, develop as far as he could. Always being awake after you’d had a nightmare (you’d bought the chronic insomnia excuse at the time, but . . . surely someone who never seemed to sleep should be more tired than Percy ever seemed to be?). Nightmares, coincidentally, you don’t remember having so vividly or so regularly before you met Percy--

“Hey,” he’d murmured, soothing you, pulling you into him, warm hands rubbing up and down your back as he’d whispered sweet nothings into your hair. “Shh, sweetie. Just a nightmare. Nothing to worry about.”

And those nightmares - the ones where you thought you’d woken up, eyes as wide as saucers, body pinned to the bed by some unknown force . . . and slowly, slowly, the creature of spindle limbs and glowing eyes and sharp bright teeth had crept into your view, sharp fingernails running over the duvet and the blankets, Percy’s presence beside you in the nightmare non-existent--

You curl your body around yourself on the hard wooden floor; there’s a bed, in the corner of the room, but you preferred nowadays to stave off sleep for as long as you could.

Looking back on it, you think you should have known. Should have run for the hills - your friends had loved him at first, citing his warm smile and the way he treated you like a princess . . . but before you knew it, your friends had dropped away, because you were spending all of your time with him instead. If you still had your cell phone . . . how long had it been since you spoke to your best friend? What was the last thing you said to her?

Your stomach rolls uncomfortably as you think about how it was probably something about Percy.

You were such a fool.

You pull yourself off the bed, your body aching with the effort of it. You don’t get much exercise nowadays; this little room, with a bed and a desk and no windows and the strange sigils scrawled on the floor in paint (definitely paint, you tell yourself fiercely, though it shines strangely when the light hits it and is a dark, dried out red that makes your stomach roll) is all of the space you have. You can stride from one wall to another in fifteen paces. Thirty floorboards.

You’ve counted all of these.

You lower yourself onto the chair by the desk, your back crying out in pain. Even if you had been sleeping properly on the bed, it was hardly comfortable - and when one is as racked with nightmares as you are, tossing and turning and twisting and begging . . . Well. No wonder you hurt so much.

You tread carefully. You have seen this room become a thousand things; have seen a dark pit open up in the middle of the sigil and all manner of creatures crawl out of it, crowding up to you with gaping maws and blood-shining teeth and great pits of eyes. Spiders. Bugs. Screaming. Three days when all of the light in the entire room - your entire existence - had gone from the world, and you had fumbled and stumbled around the room without direction.

(Into Percy, a couple of times, who had laughed and held you tight and whispered sweet nothings into your ear that might have been romantic, once upon a time, but now just lilted with mockery.

“Oh,” he’d murmured, soft and silky against your ear. “Poor thing. Are you scared of the dark?”

You had not thought yourself scared of the dark - but until those three days, you suppose, you had not known what the dark was. Had not known it could settle so thick and heavy like covering your entire world with ink; had not known it would muffle everything else so completely. Percy had kissed you demanding and hungry in the middle of the nothingness and you had hated yourself as you’d clung to his shirt in between the kisses and begged him not to leave you there.

He had, of course).

There is one other thing you’ve counted.

As best you can, anyway; it’s hard to keep real track when Percy’s comings and goings can be so sporadic. He remembers to feed you, you think, most days - but with no window, no way to tell the time truly . . . days can blur into one another. And so, though you think it’s February, you wouldn’t have known for sure that it was the thirteenth of February, unless--

“Friday the thirteenth,” Percy had hummed, that what-might-have-been-morning, as he’d held you softly in his arms as you writhed and whimpered, the walls closing in on you. It’s a dirty trick, what Percy can do, you think; the hallucinations, the untruths . . . interspersed with the truth, just so you never quite know what is real or not. You’d known in some primal part of you that this one had to be one of the tricks - walls do not really cave in on you, you are not living in some ancient Egyptian-themed action movie where walls are booby-trapped to crush you into tiny pieces - but when the threat of death looms over you in such a way, you suppose that your mind cannot truly be reasoned with.

You hadn’t thought you were claustrophobic before this, coincidentally. It’s amazing how Percy can somehow bring out fears you didn’t know you had.

The times he uses whatever power he possesses to play with you like a spider with a fly trapped in its web are preferable. At least, you think, probing tenderly with your tongue the spot at the back of your mouth where you used to have a molar before Percy had shown you the glint of pliers and murmured for you to ‘be still now, sweetie, or it will hurt more - oh, don’t tremble like that, you’re making it awfully hard to concentrate--’.

“February,” you’d told him, and he’d laughed.

“Yes,” he’d said. “Valentine’s Day tomorrow, then? I’ll have to think of something special for us.”

The very words had sent a tingling shudder down your spine. You hadn’t bothered smiling for him - for someone who had gotten you where you were with a faux tilt of his eyebrows, with pretty lies wrapped in sugar, with promises he never intended to keep . . . he doesn’t like artifice. He’d told you, that first night you had found yourself bound and gagged and trapped, that he had never found you so pretty - and then he’d smiled at you and pinched your cheek hard enough to bruise and promised you that you were going to be wearing that expression rather a lot.

He’d been right.

The fear of what he was going to do must have crackled in the air; Percy’s eyes had gone half-lidded and he’d sighed, pleased, before he’d pressed a kiss onto your forehead and let the walls recede back to where they were supposed to be.

“Something very special,” he’d said, letting go of you; watching, amused, as you’d scrambled away from him.

You’d tried to ingratiate yourself to him at first; had tried to be well-behaved, not to snap and fight back at him, in the hope it would make him ease up. You’d learnt very quickly that there was no point in doing such a thing; it doesn’t matter if you struggle. Percy will treat you the same either way.

If anything, the outright shows of fear - the proof that you’re terrified of him - seem to please him more. The more scared you get the quicker, the sooner he usually ends the torment.

Unfortunately, that’s not exactly something you can pretend. Not with a man - a thing - that can sense your emotions on the air, that hungers for the terror that runs cold through your veins. You can pretend to shudder all you want - and you’d tried - but Percy just clicks his tongue and pulls you back to him and murmurs; “Well. That’s not going to do, is it?”

So he leaves you, that Friday the thirteenth of February, to stew in the fear of what a Valentine’s Day with a demon might entail.

You and Percy had begun to date, officially, at the beginning of January after meeting at a friend’s New Year party. Neither of you big drinkers (as it turns out, stimulants like alcohol have very little effect on a creature like Percy, but you had not known that at the time), you had found yourself feeling frazzled and frightened by all of the new people and the laughter and the whirling out-of-control dancing, and had been hiding out in that friend’s cloakroom amongst other people’s coats with a book you’d smuggled in in the pocket of your dress. Percy had found you there.

You know now you must have been a buffet; perhaps the most scared thing in the whole room, your anxiety leading him directly to you and setting your life on track for . . . this. But at the time he had recognised the battered old paperback in your hand and been all-too-eager to talk to you about it, smile on his face, his voice kind. You had thought him handsome - and when he’d told you he owned a bookstore, you think you fell in love a little bit right there and then. You’d shared a kiss at midnight and been found afterwards by the mutual friend who had invited you, who had effusively shared praise of the man - he’s magic, she’d promised, cured my insomnia with nothing more than a tea blend! Gave her a couple of nightmares for a few nights, but after that - poof! - and you had really thought . . .

You had really looked at Percival Thacker and thought; oh. There he is.

So of course, this wouldn’t be your first Valentine’s Day.

Your last Valentine’s Day, Percy had gone all-out for - after you’d admitted to him that you couldn’t afford much, that you hadn’t been dating that long, that you were nervous about it . . . He’d told you earnestly that he simply liked you so much, afterwards, and he’d wanted to show it - but of course, now you know his true nature, you know that the shame that must have come off of you in waves and the fear that he thought you cheap and the nervousness that you could not match his energy must have all been a veritable feast for him.

The gift of hindsight, you suppose.

So you see, you had a point of reference for what a Valentine’s Day with somebody you thought you might love would be like; you had that thought of roses and a fancy dinner and a trip to the ballet and a first edition of your favourite book. That’s what you’d thought a Valentine’s with Percy would be like, perhaps for the rest of your life.

And then he had shown himself to you, in all of his true colours, and there had been far more pressing concerns than making sure you remembered to budget enough to at least buy him a card.

But what he might do, now, as a ‘Valentine’s Gift’ . . . knowing how much he likes you crying, whimpering, begging and frightened out of your skull . . . the very thought of it makes you want to bury your head into the thin pillow and sleep the day away entirely. What a pity that he’s just as capable of getting to you whilst you’re sleeping as he is anywhere else.

You know that you’re feeding into what he wants by agonising over it; that he can probably feel your anxiety over what is going to happen to you from everywhere in the house, the force of it is so strong. But you simply cannot help yourself. Considering he’d been the first to admit, easy and smiling as ever, that his greatest flaw was a tendency towards laziness, he’s been ever-inventive when it comes to ways to make you feel like you’re going to die of a fear-induced heart attack.

The whole day, you feel yourself hovering on a precipice; your throat ready to close up at a moment’s notice, your entire psyche balanced on a fragile tightrope ready to snap. Every tiny sound from somewhere in the house makes you jump, sets you on edge, straining for the sound of Percy’s footfalls. The house is not always so noisy, of course - it bends to whatever Percy wants. Sometimes you wonder if this little room is even a part of the cramped little townhouse Percy lives in at all, or if it does not exist in some other dimension - but you are not permitted to step foot outside of it, so it does not really matter.

You even toy with the idea he’s going to do nothing. He’s going to let you stay here, stewing in might-have-beens and maybes, instead of letting it all build to a crescendo.

When you do hear his feet on the floorboards, the click of a lock . . . you scold yourself for thinking that at all. Such an outcome would have been far too kind for Percy.

He walks into the room with a smile on his face. You do not often see him without it; that soft-eyed, careful smile that had so enchanted you at first but has seemed to grow more and more mocking the more often he has used it as a weapon. The door clicks closed behind him, and though he does not touch the handle you hear the noise of locks clacking shut, one by one. Even if you tried to run - to overpower him and go for the door - you know that it would not open for you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says to you, with that mocking smile you hate so much. He makes a great show of looking around the room; the bare walls, the floorboards, this prison cell of a home that he has engineered to be your own personal hell. “Oh, this isn’t going to do at all.”

You’d had some thoughts about the idea of magic, before all of this. You’d always hoped it existed in some capacity - the problem, you suppose, with being a voracious reader and a fantasist - but whenever you had thought of it, you’d thought . . . Wands, or snapping fingers, or little incantations. Percy moves the world around him without blinking; the only feeling you get after he exerts himself to use a little of his power is a faint sickness in the pit of your stomach, the taste of iron lingering in the back of your throat.

And then there is a little table in the middle of your room; two chairs, and a tablecloth, and silverware glinting in the light.

“Well?” He asks, and your head bounces from the table and around to face him. In his arms, once more are a bouquet of roses - and you could cry, you could vomit, you could tear him into pieces. You recognise the soft rose hue of the tablecloth; the design of the chairs, the centrepiece in the middle of the table and the dozen red roses that Percy holds in his arms. “I thought we had such a wonderful time last year . . . we can’t quite replicate it, but I’ll do my best.”

It is exactly the same as last year - if last year’s Valentine’s had taken place in a jail cell. He takes your hand and guides you none-too-gently to the table in the middle of the room (it looks silly, there; the prison you call your life is too small for the ostentatious chairs and the dining table). Your eyes frantically scan over the chair and the table, just to ensure there are no secrets lying in wait there.

(A scorpion, ready to crawl from underneath a plate. Rotting meat, ready to give you the worst attack of emetophobia you’ve had in your life. Some kind of venomous spider on the chair, waiting to bite you and paralyse you and have its poison destroy you from the inside out).

You take your seat at the table - and nothing happens. You watch Percy warily as he takes his own seat, as he gently places the bouquet to one side - you’d been so rattled to see it, you realise, you hadn’t even taken it from his arms. He doesn’t say anything about it, though. Simply sighs and stretches, looking around your little bare room as if it is the restaurant you two were in only one year ago.

“I didn’t think we’d need a menu,” he tells you, with a small smile. “I thought we’d simply have everything we had last time.”

He’d ordered for you, last time - you’d felt so overwhelmed at the restaurant he’d made reservations at, by the class of people around you and the glimpse of the prices on the wine menu, that you’d been glad of it. Looking back, you know he did that on purpose - but at the time, you had only been able to gush about how generous he was.

There is no waiter to bring your food. There’s that iron again, the tang in the back of your throat - and then the plate of appetisers is before you, your glass full of viscous red wine. It looks far too much like blood, now, for you to want to drink it.

Through every course, you wait for the sting.

This cannot be all of it. There must be something more; something hiding behind the sighs of pleasure that Percy makes and the attempts to call back to conversations you’d had. He doesn’t seem to mind you have very little to say in return - he’s happy to talk about how his cat is doing, how the bookshop is faring under this cost of living crisis, a new book he bought last week and is enjoying--

But nothing comes. Nothing happens. For all intents and purposes, the two of you are simply reliving your first Valentine’s date - only this time, in a windowless room, after your boyfriend has kept you captive for months and brought you to the brink of death and manipulated you and used you and hurt you--

The food looks exactly the same on the plate; beautifully presented, and delicious. Your stomach rumbles in hunger, but the thought of what still might come flashes through your mind.

You can’t bring yourself to eat a thing.

“My compliments to the chef,” Percy chuckles, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “A pity you’ve barely eaten anything.”

“I’m not hungry,” you whisper, into the air between you, and Percy gives you a sympathetic look. How could you be hungry, when you’d feared everything you might put on your fork would turn to ashes or organs or worse in your mouth? When you’d spent the entire meal wondering about what he was going to do next, what he was going to say next?

He clicks his tongue, tutting at you sympathetically.

“Poor thing,” he says, voice dropping with that faux sympathy. “We can’t have you losing your strength, now. I’ll make sure you have your favourite tomorrow - just to see if we can tempt you into eating.” He leans forward, catching your chin in his hand, still smiling. “I’d hate for you to waste away into nothing.”

This close, you can see the slitted pupils of his eyes, and you know he must feel the way that you swallow. You’re so vulnerable like this - he could do anything to you, use this moment to break you in any way he chooses.

The moment passes. He lets go of you.

“Well,” he says, “that was pleasant, wasn’t it?” He sees you staring, helpless, and laughs. “Oh, sweetie. Did you think I would hurt you on Valentine’s Day? When you know how much I adore you? How I couldn’t bear to be without you?”

“It’s never stopped you before,” you whisper to him, a quiet, barbed little thing - and Percy lets you say it, and then throws his head back and laughs.

“Ah,” he says, “but I’m absolutely stuffed. You’re a meal all on your own. You’ve been terrified of what I might do the whole time! Anything else would have just been greed, I fear.”

You look up at him, barely daring to believe it. He’s really just going to leave? He’s going to take what he did from the meal, from the trembling edge of fear you’ve felt all day, and simply . . . let you think that was enough?

“Th-that’s it?” You ask, hating how small your voice sounds. You clench your fists atop the table cloth, the few bites of food that you did manage to get down churning in your stomach.

Percy tilts his head to the side, and then laughs again.

“How silly of me,” he says, and your throat constricts. “No, no. I have another present for you. I almost forgot!”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, crumpled, folded over and over. He unfolds it for you, and you see that it is a sheet torn from a newspaper - his smile does not budge as he leans over and places it before you on the table.

You take a moment before you look down at it. You don’t know what it would be, after all; and it would not be the first time something that has seemed perfectly harmless has turned out to be anything of the sort. Percy waits, patiently, and you finally bring yourself to look down and read the small, cramped letters.

That’s a photograph of you.

You stare up from the page, caught in mid-laugh, your dark hair blowing across your face. In the background is a sunny day at the park; it takes a moment for you to remember it being taken. It takes a while, now, to remember you had a life before these four walls.

There are other photos of you, too. One with your family. A baby photo, posed perfectly in a photographer’s studio. A picture of your graduating class, with you circled--

Your eyes scan desperately over the words. You can’t quite take it in. You try to read it properly, but your vision skims and sputters and spots, and only certain phrases make it through the haze of terror and confusion that you feel descending over you.

‘Missing for eight months’ . . . ‘Every effort has been made to locate her’ . . .‘Family have called off the search’ . . . ‘Presumed dead’ . . . ‘Memorial service to be announced’ . . .

That’s it.

They have been looking for you - apparently in all the wrong places. There’s something about a forest being combed over, a river being strained for a body. No mention of a townhouse owned by your boyfriend. No mention of a boyfriend at all.

They’ve been looking for you, and now they’re not. They’ve thrown you to one side; they’ve said ‘that’s enough, we’d rather just act as though she’s dead’. There’s nobody coming to save you.

You hadn’t realised how much the idea that someone might find you, that you could go back to your normal life one day, that people were out there looking for you had sustained you until you’d read in stark black and white that it wasn’t going to happen.

The future that stretches out in front of you now is simply Percy, and these four walls, and what it feels like to be afraid.

“Why do you look so frightened?” Percy asks, as you sit there, trembling. The table and the chairs and the remains of the dinner fade to nothing around you, and your legs buckle - before you know it, you are knock-kneed and awkward on those awful floorboards, the sheet of newspaper still crumpled in your hands. You can’t breathe.

Any hope of escape, any hope someone was looking for you, any thoughts that perhaps they’d find Percy’s little house and break it open until they found your prison cell - gone, like that. Nothing to think about. No hope to cling to.

And he’d called it a present!

He kneels down before you, reaching out - and his arms are wrapping around you, pulling you closer, holding you against him with a grip like a vice.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he murmurs, against the top of your head, as the tears refuse to fall and the certainty that you are either going to be stuck here until you die, or until he wrings you dry, washes over you. “Isn’t it good news?”

A kiss. From out of the corner of your eye, you see the red roses he had brought you; they’re on the floor now that the table and chair have been removed. A fat spider crawls from the inside of one of the roses, inching closer and closer to you both. Percy croons softly into your ear, fingers running through your hair.

Is there a point, you wonder, where you will stop being afraid? Where all of this will become background noise, and you’ll be a useless shell of a person? Because at this moment, with the thought of who-knows-how-long stretching on in front of you and all of the things that Percy could do to you, all of the ways he could fuck with your mind and your heart and everything in between--

You think that perhaps being a shell would be better. Percy clucks, rocking you against him like he’s trying to soothe the fear out of you, though both of you know it is the opposite--

“It’s wonderful news, isn’t it? We get to have the rest of your life together.”

#yandere oc #not sfw text #yandere for ts #writing #commissioned work #percy #oc posting

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steviewashere · 7 months ago

Note

#50 just make it hurt/comfort and really angsty and sad (I’m clearly in a sad mood asking this rn 😅)

First of all, I hope you're doing better! And hopefully this suffices the ask. I got a lil' crazy with it, wrote way more than a drabble (again), but who cares?

50: Writer's preference, I chose prompts 33: "Please don't do this." and 12: "I think we need to talk."

Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Steve Harrington has Nightmares, Steve Harrington has PTSD, Steve Harrington is a Mess, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, (And Gets One!), Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Arguments, Making Up, Mild Vomiting (Like One and Done), Miscommunication

————— Eddie notices a lot about Steve. Which makes sense, they’re dating, that’s supposed to make sense. But sometimes he wishes that he didn’t have to notice. That he didn’t have to hide his glances because he could spot Steve’s heavy eye bags, or the way his shoulders have been slumping, or how high strung and tight and angry he’s becoming.

The first time he sees a change in Steve’s demeanor, they’re hanging out with all their other survived friends. In his backyard. By the pool. Except, that’s not quite right. Everybody except Steve and Nancy are hanging out at the pool. They’re on opposite sides of the yard, surveying, keeping close eyes on everyone as they move and speak and laugh. At some point, though, Nancy decides she’s had enough waiting. She leaves her post, hesitantly sits next to Robin on the edge of Steve’s pool, and lets her feet soak in the water. Her smile comes easy and her eyes grow soft, and that’s when Eddie knows she’ll be okay. But he keeps his eyes on Steve.

Sure, he should be enjoying himself. Which he is, slightly. Standing in the shallow end, leaned up against the pool wall, just letting the water kiss his scarred skin. He’s sipping on a chilled beer. Talking languidly with Dustin and Lucas and Jonathan about music and games and hobbies. Then, Dustin leaves him. Leaves the water. Strides over to Steve, face set with determination, and a pep in his step. Eddie goes quiet in the conversation, looking over his shoulder instead to where Steve is tucked near his back door. Where he’s not drinking his beer, still sealed and dripping condensation onto Steve’s bare thigh.

Dustin asks him something. Steve shakes his head. He tries offering something else, gesturing loosely with his hand at the pool and the small group that he just came from, but Steve is adamant on his decision. But of course, Dustin never takes no as an answer. He pushes. Which leads to Steve roaring: “Dustin, fuck off!”

Everybody falls silent at that. Eyes on him. Steve bristles, chucks his closed beer to the wooden porch, and disappears into his house with a slam of the door. The beer is fizzing, exploded. And then Dustin starts crying.

That’s the first time Eddie notices a change.

The next time, it’s somewhat subtle. Steve spacey at work, quiet as he shelves tapes, not even talking with Robin. He tries speaking with Steve, but only gets some non-committal grunts instead.

His last straw is an argument they’re having. Currently.

Steve’s tired, bitchier than usual, tense in his shoulders and wild-eyed. Eddie tries to stay soft, give himself a chance to remain calm and keep in mind that Steve’s going through something. But that doesn’t even begin to deter the argument.

“Listen, I think it would be good for…us—“ You, Eddie doesn’t say. “—if you let me help you out,” he’s trying to persuade. He’s standing in Steve’s kitchen. Gesturing at the pile of dishes in the sink and on the counter. Pointing out how the garbage has overflowed. And how he knows laundry hasn’t been done lately. He’s trying to be polite about it. “It’ll be like when I first got out of the hospital, okay? You just rest up and I clean up a little bit, make you something that you want to eat, and we can cuddle and watch a movie.”

However, he knows he’s hitting a brick wall over and over. None of his words are making their way through. The softness is leaking from his throat, drying him out, making him want to puke. Steve huffs through his nose. Face red, eyebrows furrowed so hard that his eyes are nearly closed with it, nose flared, and mouth downturned so extreme he nearly looks like Beaker from The Muppets. “I don’t want your help, Eddie!” Steve shouts from his spot at the dining table. He wouldn’t let Eddie come any closer. “I’m not some child, you know that?! I’m fine, I can do this on my own, and I certainly don’t need somebody like you telling me what needs to happen!”

All at once, the gentle care nukes in Eddie’s chest. Replaced instead by a hazardous anger, red hot and corroding. “What do you mean by that?” He asks bitterly. Voice flat, devoid. “Thought we were over biases, Steve,” he spits.

Steve blubbers like an out of water goldfish. “I—That—You know what I mean, Eddie. Not like—It’s just—“ he flounders. His eyes trail down towards the watch on his wrist. They grow wet, but not the tears that come from sadness. These are tears of agitation. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says wetly; the first thing that fell from his mouth when Eddie began to bring everything up. “Everything’s perfectly fine. Just got behind in house chores, which is whatever, you know? Like—“ He chuckles darkly, a self-deprecating thing, something painfully normal. “—Who the fuck actually cares about how messy everything is, right? Just leave it alone. Let’s…Let’s go cuddle,” Steve says hastily. He clambers up and out of his seat, around the table, and into the kitchen. Wrapping himself tightly around Eddie, cheek pressed to his chest, trying to pull them into the living room.

But Eddie doesn’t wrap back. He steps away. Putting distance between them. “I don’t want to do that with you right now, Steve,” he mutters. “That fucking hurt. What you said. I don’t really feel comfortable being here right now. Forget that I brought this up, okay?” He steps around Steve, who stands stunned and heartbroken in his own kitchen. Eddie’s in the doorway before Steve has the chance to reach out and touch him again. “I—I think we need to talk. But I can’t do it right now. I can’t…Why would you say that? Jesus, Steve.” And yeah, he had different intentions when coming over here. Wanted to soothe whatever was going on. Figure out how he could help. If he could help. In fact, he would’ve been fine with Steve pushing him off again, insisting on a topic change. He would’ve let it happen. But not now.

He makes sure the hurt is shown on his face before he leaves. Before he has a chance to rub his eyes and sniffle. And ignores how Steve calls out to him. He needs to calm down before he says something he might regret, something that would hurt worse than what Steve said to him.

They don’t cross paths often after that. Sometimes Eddie sees him at Family Video, but not for very long. In just to rent a tape and get out, hurt simmering unrestful in his ribcage. He can spot Steve out of the corner of his eye, reaching out, stepping in place, mouth opening and closing. But he ignores what he has to say.

Sees Steve when he drops off people for Dungeons & Dragons nights at the Wheeler’s house. But he scurries off before anything can happen. Other people start to take notice and Eddie has to shoot a warning glance with a gritted, “It’s private. I don’t want to tell you.”

Today, though, he notices Steve dropping something off at Max’s. She takes the offered thing from his grip, shuts the door softly at his back, and then Eddie finds Steve’s eyes. Hard not to notice him when he lives only a short distance away from Max’s place, but what greets him makes his stomach knot. Steve is unwell. Pale and jumpy, eyes bloodshot, his eye bags heavy and dark circles so purple—he almost looks bruised. His hands are shaking, clothes are rumpled, and his hair is…greasy, flat, knotted. Eddie puts out the cigarette he’d been smoking and walks calmly and quietly down his steps. Crossing to Steve’s bumper.

“Hey, baby,” he greets softly.

Steve startles anyway. Turning with his hand gripping tight to his door handle. Tugging on it, though it must be locked. His eyes are wide and devastating. Wet, exhausted, puffy and swollen. They’re red raw. Like he’s been crying. And rubbing at them, too. At a closer look, Steve’s cheeks are blank of any color at all, slightly gaunt. His lips are chewed to all hell. And his facial hair is wiry, outgrown. Unkempt.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs, stepping closer. He places a firm hand to Steve’s left bicep, squeezing ever so gently. Runs his thumb over the taut muscle. “Can we talk inside? Let me make you a cup of tea and get you something to eat?”

He doesn’t say anything, but does release his hold on the car handle. Follows slowly to the door, but doesn’t come close to the couch where Eddie gestures to.

“You can sit on the—“

“Please don’t do this,” Steve sobs.

Immediately, Eddie comes closer into his space. Hands splayed in front of him, ready to reach out and touch and hold, but isn’t sure if that’s allowed. “What? What shouldn’t I do, Steve?” He questions. His voice quivers with concern.

“Don’t leave me, Eds,” Steve cries, rattling and shaking with it. His chest stutters. Hiccups in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry—I’m so—I didn’t mean it, I was just upset and I know that’s not okay, but I—“ Steve gags harshly, doubling over with it. Eddie rushes behind him, grabs for the waste bin, and sets it out in front of him. “—I was being an asshole and I’m sorry and I’m sorry that I hurt you and that you thought I thought bad about you, but I didn’t, I didn’t, I don’t, Eds—“ Eddie can’t even understand the rest of what he’s babbling, it’s incoherent, strung tight with snot and saliva and tears, but it renders too much. Steve finally reaches out for the trash can, hurls harshly, and drops to his knees with his grip still on the can’s lip.

Eddie crouches beside him. Hand on his back, on his forehead. Holding to him firmly, ignoring how sweaty and cold he is at once. A part of him withers at how he made things worse. It wasn’t his intention, to make Steve worry this bad, but he definitely instilled that fear. And now he needs to just glue back together what he cracked.

When Steve is able to calm down, collapsing heavily against Eddie, does he speak softly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I guess we both used our words wrong. I’m just so worried about you, I swear. This isn’t—I would never lead you on about a break up. And that’s not what this conversation is, I promise, Stevie.”

Steve sniffles noisily. He koalas himself around Eddie, burrowing his face into Eddie’s chest. He’s still shivering, sweaty, and weak. “I’m sorry,” he mutters.

“I forgive you, Steve.” He holds to Steve tightly. Crushing him in closer, not caring how it makes his back ache or his knees scuff the floor. Doesn’t care about how Steve’s tears soak through his shirt or the sure mess of snot left behind. He squeezes Steve’s back and states softly, “I’m just so upset that you think you have to be fine. That you can’t ask for help. That you have to deal with everything on your own.”

“I—“

“Please just talk to me, Steve. What’s going on? I just don’t understand where you’ve gone, you know? You’re so tired and angry and tense all the time. You don’t want to talk to anybody. You keep pushing us away, closing yourself off. But then you don’t take care of yourself,” Eddie rambles, his voice growing weak and choked. “I’m sorry that I—I don’t know how to talk about this without sounding like an asshole. I’m just worried. Worried that…That something’s terribly wrong.”

The implication of Vecna is not lost between them, if the way Steve tenses says anything.

Carefully, Steve pulls himself away. Staring wide and timid at Eddie. Before he breaks with another cry of, “Everybody keeps dying, Eds. The nightmares. They keep—I can’t sleep. I see it everywhere.”

“What do you see?” Eddie asks, voice shaking. Please don’t say that clock. Please don’t say the clock, Steve. Please, he internally pleads.

“Death,” Steve whispers. “Everywhere. In everybody. I see…Nancy drowning and Robin beaten and Max broken. I see you covered in blood with chunks of you missing and you don’t look at me, you just look over my shoulder and you’re gone by the time I find you. I just see it. I can’t—I can’t stop seeing it, Eddie.” He curls his hands tight into Eddie’s shirt, nearly ripping it off of his back. “And I’m always alone,” he hiccups. “Alone when I wake up. And so I leave, I drive around, I wait to see if anything bad happens. But I can’t sleep.”

Eddie brings a hand and swipes back at Steve’s hair, pushing it away from his forehead. He leans in and leaves a gentle, sticky kiss to the skin. Pulling back, he offers, “When you’re ready for bed, you find me. Call me so that I can come over. Or tell me to come get you.” He cups Steve’s face, holding him between his hands. His cheeks that are splotchy red, tacky with tears. Eyes hazel and shiny and slightly defeated, yet hopeful. Eddie tickles his thumb over the bridge of Steve’s nose, his cupid’s bow, between his eyebrows. “Stevie, baby, I never want you to think you’re alone again. Ever. Seeing you so distraught all the time was killing me, but I’m here to help. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders.”

“But…I’m supposed to be able to take care of myself, Eds,” Steve argues quietly.

“Yeah, sometimes,” Eddie states. “You’re not supposed to be alone, not all the time. And if laying with you until you fall asleep safely, or showing you how fine everybody is, making you a sandwich or doing the dishes—Whatever, whatever helps you out, I’m willing.” He presses another soft kiss to Steve’s lips, the tip of his nose, on his forehead. Murmuring, “You helped me. It’s my turn, don’t you think? Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Steve shrugs. “Am I supposed to just sit around?”

“You don’t have to, but you could relax. Watch a movie or do something that’s not exhausting,” Eddie explains. “Being independent, you know, doesn’t mean exerting yourself at every possible moment. Or ignoring things that bother you. Or hiding your hurt. It means seeking help, even if you do it on your own. It means sticking up for yourself, even if what’s hurting you is you.”

Against Eddie’s palms, Steve sighs through his nose. ��Okay,” he mutters. “Can…Can we take a nap? I’m really tired,” Steve tentatively asks.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll find my soft pajamas for you, too.” He stands, offering out his hands for Steve. Tugs him up. And when they’re at eye level, “Steve?” Eyes on him, zeroed in and focused. “I want you to bother me. Be a nuisance. Take up space.”

“Are you sure?” Steve murmurs. “I can be a lot.”

“Loving you means loving all of you, sweetheart. Even the excess parts. Which, by the way, aren’t excess. Because I love taking care of you, despite what your brain is surely telling you,” Eddie says. “Come on, I’ll take care of that can while you lay down.”

He’s glad he noticed. But he’s happier at the sound of Steve’s soft snores, puffed over his bare neck, and the drool that will surely dry on his collarbone.

——— Drabble Prompts Ask Game

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my asks

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bitchinbarzal · 1 year ago

Text

sleeping with the devil | A Fantilli

summary: adam’s dancing with the devil after his girlfriends death

warnings: death, drunk driving, car crash, no real ending.

Adam can still remember everything that happened that night, he remembers the screaming, crying, the lights in the hospital.

Luca remembers watching through the window of the hospital room as his parents told his brother the news, him screaming in denial. He was ripping the breathing tubes from his nose and trying desperately to claw his way past his parents to get to you.

Luca remembers holding Adam every night when he’d wake up screaming from the nightmare of reliving that night over and over again.

The only time he was ever at peace was when he was asleep and still then he had to watch you die all over again, the blood dripping down your forehead, your skin so pale. He wanted to just reach out and hold you, but he couldn’t because what came next was the replay of that drunk driver smashing into the passenger side of his car, your body being thrown out the windshield.

He never thought he would go to your funeral, constantly saying he didn’t want to go. His parents and friends tried to change his mind but he wouldn’t budge.

On the morning of the funeral Luca got ready in his suit before walking into Adam’s room, to attempt to convince him.

Instead he walked in on his brother, sobbing into your hoodie.

The sobs were gut wrenching. Much like when a little kid is hurt.

His baby brother was hurt.

Adam was startled when Luca’s hand landed on his back “hey bud… it’s time to go”

Throughout the entire service Adam held his mom’s hand and listened to everyone tell stories about you.

He liked listening to them but he knew nobody in this world could tell stories that would compare to his.

You were his best friend and the stories you shared, they would make Oscar winning movies.

You would always be his star.

After the funeral your parents spotted him and immediately wanted to talk.

“Adam!”

“Oh hi, sorry I haven’t been-“

Your mom cut him off with a hug “It’s been hard for everyone but we know you’ve been struggling. We just miss you”

That night he went back to your house for the first time since the accident and had dinner with your parents. It hurt him so bad but he knew your parents needed it to heal so he put on a brave face.

The first year was weird for Adam.

When your birthday came around, he bought and wrapped a lot of gifts. They were never opened and everyone was a little concerned for him but they let him be, just happy he was ok.

He wasn’t ok.

On your anniversary, he took himself to eat at your favourite pizza place together in Ann Arbor. It was the first time he’d been in since you passed. The guy behind the counter looked at Adam sadly before saying “I’m so sorry about your girl”

He smiled softly before taking his pizza and sitting at your table. He set out a paper plate on your side and even got a bottle of the juice you liked.

“Six years we’ve been dating huh?” He mumbles, biting into the slice.

“Love You so much baby, I miss you”

As the year went on people were less worried, he began socializing more and he was becoming Adam again.

When the draft rolled around his family knew it would be hard.

Luca prayed that the projections were right and that Anaheim would take him. So he could be as far away from here as possible.

That wasn’t the case when he was drafted by Columbus. Walking onto that stage he shook everyone’s hand before looking at the camera and opening his suit jacket to show your name largely embroidered by his heart.

At home, your parents watched on wearing their Fantilli jerseys and crying when they saw his jacket.

Holding one another infront of the tv your dad mumbled “He’s the best kid”

And when he had finished all of his interviews Adam found a text on his phone from your mom

she would be so proud of you adam. Congratulations sweetheart, you’ve made us all so proud!

he replied

thanks mom! love you guys

mom. that was the first time anyone had called her mom since the accident. she held onto that text and looked at it everyday.

Adam’s parents and Luca were concerned about him moving to Columbus.

“Adam just stay in Michigan! Stay with me another year”

Adam sighed and shook his head “No, I want to go and I want to get away with a fresh start”

“But-“

“I can’t be reminded of her in everything I do anymore! I want to go out and not have to avoid eating somewhere because she’s there in my memories” he cried out.

“Adam you need to adapt at some point”

Adam’s head swings around to face his brother, angry tears lining his eyes “I’ll never be able to ‘adapt’ Luca! She’s gone! Dead! I was driving the car-“

“You didn’t kill her!” He shouted back. Part of him wanted to stop the other half knew Adam hadn’t spoken about it and that he needed to get it out.

“I was driving the car!” He screamed, standing up and looking over his big brother “I could’ve saved her!”

“Adam nothing was going to save her” he hand rested on Adam’s arm “there’s only one person to blame and it was the drunk driver in the other car”

Luca stared at Adam’s shaking shoulders as he sobbed silently before he said “The last thing I told her was ‘you’re gonna be ok’ — I lied to her”

Luca leaned forward and grabbed his brother into his hold, squeezing him tight

“It’s gonna be ok”

“I should’ve protected her”

It didn’t take long for Nick to take Adam under his wing in Columbus. It made Luca feel better even if Nick was never his captain the boys had no bad things to say about the Blankenburg boy.

Luca was just happy he’d be looked after.

Adam met Paige at a party, Nick’s birthday party. She was a friend of a friend and they hit it off really well.

Adam wasn’t looking for a relationship and he didn’t tell anybody about Paige but he was enjoying himself, finally feeling free again.

Luca noticed his brothers happier tune over the phone and even asked Nick and Kent what was going on to which they claimed to have no idea.

Adam kept Paige private for a while, hanging out and going to dinner a few times a week. She was nice and they got along really well.

She was pretty, she was gorgeous actually and Adam felt weird about his feelings. He questioned them for a while before he eventually made a move on her in his apartment.

His body was relieved of a lot of anxiety after that, like all of his pent up emotions had just disappeared. Paige felt like a safe place for Adam. She didn’t judge him or ask questions she was just there for him.

Adam didn’t keep pictures of you guys in his new apartment or really any of your stuff with him, all of it resided in his parents house. So Paige never saw you, she didn’t know about you she just though Adam was some hockey player who liked being alone.

The were seeing each other for about six months before Adam made it official, asking her to be his girlfriend.

He’d slowly started mentioning her to his family and friends. The boys immediately calling Nick and Kent for information on the girl.

Kent didn’t like her, he said there was something off but Nick told him to play nice.

Adam took Paige to Ann Arbor to see the team play one weekend and to finally introduce her to his brother and his parents who had flown in to see Luca too. The meeting was fine, as Luca had described it but they weren’t overly eager to meet Paige.

Lately, Adam seemed caught up in hockey and his girlfriend too much so to notice what was going on around him.

That’s why it came as a shock to him when his big brother called him screaming down the phone.

“You didn’t call today? You couldn’t spare five minutes?”

“What are you talking about? What-“

Luca wants to laugh “Are you serious right now? You don’t know what today is?”

Adam scrunches his brows together “No? Should I?”

“You’re fucking with me right? You’re actually kidding me”

There was silence on the phone, both ends, before Luca said “It’s ok Adam I’ll go put flowers on her grave don’t you worry. You just enjoy your little girlfriend I’ll take care of y/n”

Adam’s breath hitched before he looked down at his phone and the date, it was the anniversary of your death.

“Luca I didn’t-“

“You know what Adam? I want you to be happy, I do! But she doesn’t deserve to be forgotten”

She stumbles “I didn’t forget!”

“Oh yeah? When have you visited? Her birthday, Christmas, your anniversary… none of it. You were too busy with her” he spat.

“Hey leave Paige out of this she didn’t do anything!”

“Whatever man, I’ll see you in the off season or whatever”

Adam was hurt. He was hurt because he had forgotten this day, it was too late to call your parents now and he was hurt his brother would dismiss him like that.

He soon shook it off and acted like nothing happened when Paige came over to stay the night.

When the Blue Jackets season eventually finished, Adam had invited Paige to come to Toronto and meet his family and friends from home.

Luca wasn’t too impressed with the idea, opting to stay in Michigan for as long as he could before headed back. He had to go back near the middle of the summer, it was your birthday party.

Every year your parents threw a massive party and they continued the tradition even after your passing instead using it as a space to gather your closest friends and family to celebrate your life.

Your mom and dad had invited all the boys from Michigan as they were some of your closest friends so Luca wasn’t alone with Adam and his new girlfriend.

Adam’s mom and dad weren’t best pleased he insisted on bringing Paige to the party

“It’s a bit disrespectful, Adam!”

“Her parents want me to be happy”

“Yes but they don’t need you flaunting your new girlfriend in their faces and on her birthday party no less”

They lost that argument with Adam not caring and taking her anyway. Paige got lost in the crowds that showed up for your party anyway, your parents didn’t really notice her.

The boys did, however and they weren’t best pleased.

“Who does she think she is?! This is y/n’s birthday!”

As the night drew in and people started to leave, a lot of guests began migrating towards the house. Which is where Adam and Paige were, in the living room trying to get warm.

Paige noticed a picture of Adam on the mantle, walking up to it and holding it in her hand “Why do they have a picture of you in here?”

Adam looked at the picture, from his draft. They were so proud.

“Oh they were really proud of me in my draft, I’ve played hockey here since I was a kid”

Paige’s face scrunched up “still it’s a bit weird your neighbour having a picture of you on their mantle”

Adam frowned “Not really, their daughter was my best friend”

best friend. ouch.

“Their daughter… this is her party right?” He hummed in response “What happened to her?”

Adam gulped and froze for a moment, he hadn’t thought about that night much lately.

“She was killed in a car accident by a drunk driver, underage too when we were in Michigan. I was in the car” he explained. He noticed an immediate uncomfortable shift in Paige’s posture after he said that.

He watched her eyes scan along the mantle some more before she stopped on the last picture, it was you both on the day you moved into your dorm at Michigan.

You were beaming so much and Adam was just happy you were happy. Kitted out in your athletics kit.

“Is this her?” Paige asked, looking at the picture with a slight shake in her voice.

“Yeah that’s Y/N” he said “Are you Ok?”

Paige put down the frame and turned to Adam “I have to tell you something”

He looked worried “What’s up, you’re scaring me”

Paige fidgeted with her fingers before she said to Adam in a whisper “It was me”

“What?”

She shook her head as if she was trying to stop herself “I was the drunk driver” she pointed to the picture of you both “That’s the girl, I killed her”

Adam’s breath got stuck in his throat and he couldn’t speak, he felt like he was drowning in his own body.

It all came back to him then, your screams, the car flipping, the scratching off the road, your sobs, crying out for help and the blood on your face as you looked at him as the life slowly left your body.

“Adam I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! You’ve never said anything about her and you don’t have pictures I didn’t even know her name they just showed me a picture” she cried, desperate for him to say something.

People had started coming in after hearing the commotion

“Whats going on?”

Adam had tears running down his face as he pulled at his hair and looked at her “Paige killed y/n”

“I didn’t know!” She screamed, everyone looked a little alarmed.

Adam’s parents sprung into action and took Paige out of the house with a simple “I think we step outside”

Johnny had turned to your parents and suggested some air “hey guys, how about we head out back again”

Leaving the boys all staring at Adam’s distraught figure in the middle of the room.

The stared for a moment before Luca approached his brother and said

“Nice job protecting her Adam, I’m sure she’s so proud”

Adam sobbed even harder, trying to hard to comprehend all of this.

“I’m sorry!” He yelled out, to nobody in particular as they’d all left him alone now. He was on his knees in tears looking at the picture of you on the mantle and he whispered

“I should’ve protected you, I didn’t protect you”

#adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli imagine #nhl imagine

312 notes · View notes

skyfallslayer · 6 months ago

Text

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Two

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Chapter Summary: Lucas, Mike and Dustin try to talk to the girl they found in the woods; And Hopper questions an anxious Joyce about an unsettling phone call; Steph and Will must continue to survive; And Steve’s eyes get opened in a way he never saw coming.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 11,024 (Oh, my lord)

🎲Date: 5/16/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship; Talks of Kidnapping; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Implying Sex; Lying; Implied Suicide; Death/Killing; Talks of Corpses; Blood; Gun Use; Steve's 'Asshole Era. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Jesus. This was a tough one to write and edit (Hopefully I didn't make too many mistakes). But, geez. Writing different POVs, everyone's thought was a tough one. But hopefully y'all can understand 😅. Also, I am NOT a D&D player, so some of lore just comes straight from the wiki. Hopefully that's reliable enough. Anyway, sorry for the delay. Enjoy!

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE ||

“What the fuck are you?!” Will heard her scream as the creature tried to outmatch her. The light above them grew brighter and brighter, and he squeezed his eyes shut while gripping her jacket tighter. He prayed this was just another nightmare. Maybe… Maybe he’s getting his wish when he hears the silence. Does he dare open his eyes and see the truth?

He’s scared, trembling, and it heightens when he hears the girl heaving for air. So much so he clenches his grip on the fabric tighter, the strange smelling air going through his nostrils causing him to gasp himself. When his eyes snapped open is when his coughing fit started.

He hears his name being called, and hands coming around his shoulders. He almost jerks away, afraid, until his orbs settle on the silhouette before him.

“S-Steph?” He croaked, a sense of relief flooding his veins. “What just happened?” He could see the confusion on her face, looking around for clues. He followed her eyes, nose crinkling at the sight. “We’re still in the shed. But it’s… gross.”

She swallows. “Stay behind me.” She tells him, and guides herself through the door. They both shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. “Jesus, It’s freezing.”

Will and her looked around, the outside world seemed to be encased in a blue hue, the places around seemed to be tangled with vines and covered in something sticky. There was also a white powder that looked like snow, raining down from the dark skies above. A sky that didn’t even have moonlight like it did a few minutes ago.

“Did you hit your head when we crashed?” She asked after getting his attention away from the sky.

He shakes his head, almost sadly. If that had both just hit their heads, would the situation have been better? He frowns, worriedly thinking away as the older girl tries to stay calm.

“Come on.” She says, gesturing to him to follow. “Let’s go inside. I want to see something.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

The rain was coming down more intensely than before, followed by the grumbling of thunder and lightning. Somehow, miraculously, the boys, mostly Wheeler, managed to convince the strange girl they found in the woods to return home with them, and hid her in the basement.

“Is there a number we can call for your parents?” Mike asked, worriedly as the girl looked between the three boys, all scared and confused.

“Where’s your hair? Do you have cancer?” Dustin spitted out, genuinely curious.

“Did you run away?” Lucas asked, skeptical.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Mike says, just as his friend questions a red sustain on her shirt. He slaps his hand away quickly. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!”

“I bet she’s deaf.” Dustin suggested, before taking a quick half step and smacking his hands together. The sound makes the girl flinch, and he frowns apologetically. “Not deaf.”

“That’s enough, all right? She’s just scared and cold.” Mike said, silencing the two before running over to the laundry basket and grabbing some clothes. “Here, these are clean. Okay?”

The girl takes them, taking a second to be grateful before she starts stripping– The boys freak out, Mike running up to stop her while the other two look away.

“See over there?” He points. “Th-That’s the bathroom. Privacy. Get it?” She nods and he shows her inside. Just when he was about to shut it behind him, she grabs it forcibly. “You don’t want it closed?”

“No.” She finally says, surprising him.

“Oh, so you can speak. Okay, well… Um, how about we just keep the door…” He slowly moves it until there’s about three inches of space. “Just like this. Is that better?”

“Yes.”

Mike smiles and leaves her be, rejoining the group who were having a conversation of their own.

“This is mental.” Dustin said, freaking out.

“At least she can talk.” Mike points out, with Lucas shaking his head, replying,

“She said ‘no’ and ‘yes’. Your three-year-old sister says more.”

“She tried to get naked.” Dustin adds.

“There’s something seriously wrong with her.” Lucas said, touching his temple. “Like, wrong in the head.”

“She just went like…” The Henderson boy makes a motion of taking off shirt (and even knocked his own hat off his head).

“I bet she escaped from Pennhurst.”

“From where?” Mike said, eyebrow raised.

“The nuthouse in Kerley County.”

“You got a lot of family there?” Dustin teased, getting a dirty look.

“Bite me. Seriously though, think about it. That would explain her shaved hair and why she’s so crazy.”

“Why she went like…” He does the shirt motion again. In his mind this was helping him and Lucas’ case.

“‘She’s an escapee’ is the point. She’s probably a psycho.”

“Like Michael Myers.”

“Exactly! We should’ve never brought her here.”

“So you just wanted to leave her out in that storm?” Mike asks, irritated.

“Yes! We went out to find Will–”

“And Phanie.” Dustin pressures.

“And Steph – not another problem!” Lucas agrees.

“I think we should tell your mom.”

“I second that.”

Mike holds his hand up. “Who’s crazy now?”

“How is that crazy?” Lucas scoffed.

“‘Cause, we weren’t supposed to be out tonight, remember?”

“So?”

“So if I tell my mom and she tells your mom and your mom–”

Dustin’s eyes widened. “Oh, man.”

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” Lucas frowns.

“Exactly. We’ll never find Will, or Steph.” Mike says, seeing Dustin make the shirt motion once more, silently asking the question about the girl. “All right, here’s the plan. She sleeps here tonight.”

Henderson perked up again. “You’re letting a girl–”

“Just listen! In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear. And tomorrow night, we go back out. And this time, we find Will and Stephanie.”

Lucas and Dustin share a look, until one of them finally shrugged. “I guess that works.”

“Great. We’ll start again tomorrow. Goodnight, guys.” Mike bid them as he went off to start making the mysterious girl a place to rest.

“This is crazy, man.” Lucas said, once they had snuck back out. “What the hell is Mike even thinking?”

“I don’t know. Do you think his plan will really work?” Dustin asked, as they headed over to where their bikes were hidden.

“I’m giving it less than a fifty percent chance of success.” He sighs. “I better get home.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hey, don’t look so sad.” He pats his curly haired friend on the back. “We’ll find them.”

“I just want my sister back. You have no idea.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

In the following morning, in the Byers house, the eldest seemingly was keeping it together, making the morning meal like he always does and hoping his worrying mother would have just a bite.

“All right, Mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan said, while placing the plate down in front of her, her thoughts being interrupted.

“What?” His mother said, before moving some papers. “No, be careful of the poster.”

“Yeah, okay. All right–”

“I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, Mom.”

“Listen, listen. The Xerox place opens in, like…” She looks down at her watch. “30 minutes–”

“Mom–”

“And I don’t want you to go alone–”

“No, I know. I told you, I got it.”

“So I’m gonna have Karen take you, ‘cause I should be here.” She gestures around, all jittery. “Claudia will meet you there, b-but if she’s not, she’ll reimburse us for the copies of Stephanie, I–”

He shakes his head with understanding. “Okay.”

“We need to make, what, 200, 300 copies?” He nods again. “How much is a copy?”

“Mom?”

“Ten cents?”

“Mom?”

“If we– ten cents”

“Mom, Mom!” Jonathan stops her from counting the cash she had laid out, and squeezes her shoulder with her other hang to calm her. “Y-You can’t get like this, okay?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Joyce replies, taking a shaky inhale of nicotine.

“No, it’s okay.” He reassures her softly, just before someone comes knocking on their door. The mother rushed over with her son on her tail, busting the door wide open for the exhausted police officer.

“We’ve been waiting six hours.”

“I know, I came as soon as I could.” Hopper replies, nearly dead on his feet.

“Six hours.”

“A little bit of trust here, all right?” He slides his hat off. “We’ve been searching all night, went all the way to Cartersville.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

Joyce made a choking sound and looked away. “God…”

Hopper frowns, sadly. “Flo says you got a phone call?”

“Oh, yeah.” Joyce nods and shows him their phone.

He picks it, examining the speaker part of it which was charded black. “Storm barbecued this pretty good.”

She took a step back in surprise. “The storm?”

Hopper looked at her like she had two heads. “What else?”

“You’re saying that that’s not weird?”

“No, it’s weird.”

“Can we, like, trace who made the call? Contact the–”

“No, it doesn’t work like that.” He shakes his head, and then looks at her with all seriousness. “Now, uh, you’re sure it was Will? Because Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

“No. It was him, it was Will... and h-he was scared. And then something–”

“It was probably just a prank call. It was somebody trying to scare you.”

“Who would do that?” Joyce questioned, face full of confusion and sickness.

“Well, this thing’s been on TV. It brings out all the crazies, you know. False leads, prank calls, uh–”

“No, Hopper, it was not a prank. It was him.”

“Joyce.” He begins, as she denies him again

“Come on, how about a little trust here?” She laughs dryly. “What, you think I’m– I’m making this up?”

“I’m not saying that you’re making it up.” Hopper looks at her with concern again. “All I’m saying is it’s an emotional time for you.”

“And you think I don’t know my own son’s breathing?”

“Joyce–”

“Hopper, my son’s missing. A-And not only that, someone else’s daughter is missing.” She nervously takes a puff of her cigarette. “And you know what the mess up part about that is? Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!”

She ends with an emotional sigh, tightening the heavy tension it the room. Jonathan worriedly looking at his mother before, locking eyes with the police chief who was trying to find the right words to say.

“You hear from, uh, Lonnie yet?” Hopper asked after the small silence.

“No.”

“It’s been long enough.” He puts his hat back on. “I’m having him checked out.”

“Oh, come on!” She sighs loudly, watching him leave. “You’re wasting your time.” Then the door shuts, and rubs her temple. “Jesus. He never listens!”

Jonathan ponders for a moment, before asking, “Mom, how likely is it that Will would actually go to Lonnie’s?”

“I…” Joyce runs a hand through her messy locks. “It’s possible, but he lives a long, long way. Especially on foot. But… I don’t– maybe he would! I…” She sighs again, overwhelmed. “However, I don’t think he would have gone with Stephanie. He’s… W-Will knows your father’s not the best man, and Will, you know, has that heart of gold.”

That got a chuckle out of both of them. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think Will would have risked Stephanie like that.” She shakes her head. “No. She’s an older kid, and older sister. As much as this sounds messed up, she would have done anything to make sure Will was safe. I know it. So… my question is…” She locks eyes with her son. “What would a girl her age think is a safe place for a young boy?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| TWO NIGHTS AGO ||

Stephanie flipped the lightswitch on in the kitchen out of curiosity, but finds herself still submerged in darkness. “Just what I thought. There’s no light.” She says with a frown.

“The flash of light we saw–” Will looks up at her. “Do you think it was a power outage?”

“I don’t think there’s light here, I mean-” She starts walking around, rubbing her shaking hands together. “Look at this place. I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore.” She shivers just a smidge. “At least it’s a little warmer inside here.” Then she hears a distressful sound. “Will?”

The boy was pale, pupils blown wide and had a small tremble. “W-What do you m-mean we’re not in Hawkins anymore?” He asked, lip quivering with a slight pant. “B-But th-this looks like my house. D-Did w-we get taken somewhere else? Can we even g-go home? I–”

“Shit… Will–” She rushes over, hands coming up to his shoulders while she gets on one knee. “Will? Hey, bud, listen– hey.” She makes sure his gaze meets hers. “Don’t freak out. I know it’s scary, but we’re going to figure this out. Once we do, I’m going to get us home, I promise.”

The boy sniffles into his shoulder, fighting back tears. “You promise?”

“I promise.” She says it without realizing the fate of those words.

He swallows and extends out a certain finger. “Pinky promise?”

Her breath was nearly taken away by that certain question, taking her far back into a distant memory. But… like hell she’s going to let that memory change her judgment. She interlocks hers with his and repeats, “Pinky promise.”

That got him to crack a smile. “So, what next?” He asks, making her rack her brain for a plan.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY ||

He woke up again to his cat’s crying. The young Henderson frowns, heart clenching at how Mews was wondering where his sister was at. For the urban legend of how cats had no emotions, he’s certainly not seeing it. He rubbed his eyes and wandered aimlessly around, the thought of calling sick into school was still fresh in his mind. Should he? I mean it made sense, and it wasn’t like the school won’t understand, so….

Was that a yes?

He walked through the hallway, curls in his eyes as slows in front of his sister’s bedroom. His cat locked eyes with him, sadness and confusion filled the slitted pupils. Mews meows again.

“She’s not back yet.” Dustin says, getting a chirp. “We’re trying. She’ll be back soon.” He starts walking away, hearing him make a sad sound once more.

“Dusty-bun, I’m going to make some posters.” Claudia said, who were gathering her belongings by the door. “I left you breakfast on the stove.”

His nervous fingers gripped his t-shirt as he tried not to sound so down. “Hey, Mom?” Her eyes meet his gaze. “Is it okay if I… stay home today?”

Claudia’s face softens bittersweetly. “Of course you can, sweety. If you leave the house for whatever reason, just leave me a note where you’re going, that’s all I ask.” She gives him a kiss on his hairline, and is one foot out the door before adding, “Oh! And be back before dark. Okay? Your Mama doesn’t need to worry about another kid.”

“Can do.”

He watches her smile and closes the door, locking it. He frowns at that action, I mean they’ve never locked their door before, and now it was becoming second nature. He was even surprised she told him he could leave the house. Or… did she not expect him to leave this place in the state he’s in? Sounds like something she would do.

He sighs and heads for the kitchen to make himself a plate. He didn’t have much of an appetite, really, but he didn’t want to hurt his mother’s feelings or make her beg for him to eat – he didn’t want to call ‘pot kettle black’ since he was the one that had to convince his mourning mother to eat last night. But it was hard, his fork just picking at the food, cutting it into smaller pieces to stare at before dropping his utensil onto the plate.

Steph… His fingers dug into his pocket and pulled the gold chain out, letting it sprawl out in his palm. He stares at it intensely, thinking. Come on, Sis, give me a sign. What happened to you and Will? What caused you to go off road and run? Run with Will’s shotgun out of all things?

What had got her so scared that they needed a weapon to protect themselves? Both her and Will were the last two people that would resort in violence, so the fact that they decided to arm themselves with a weapon tells him that something sinister was up.

But what? Dustin lays the necklace down next to him, pretending that she was here to eat with him like she always does, before deciding it was time to munch on what was left on his plate.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper struggles to keep his mind clear after that conversation with Joyce. His thought always going back to this particular moment:

““Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!””

Of course the woman felt guilty about everything. I mean, your kid goes missing, who else are you going to blame other than yourself? But she also was chipping away at the idea it was her fault that that poor girl was missing too. Blames herself for working later than usual, and wasn’t the one to come across her own son on the road and pick him up. That’s a lot of guilt for someone who’s holding the family together on her own.

He listens to the volunteers shout the children’s names, hoping that they would shout back. Hopper wishes that too. He prays that one of them would yell back for help and get this nightmare over with.

“Hey!” He shouts at the two officers. “Anything?”

Callahan shakes his head. “You?”

“No, nothing but a dead phone.”

“Joyce?”

Hopper nods. “About one step from falling off the edge.”

“She’s been a few steps for a while now, hasn’t she?” Powell asked, as he’s met with a stern glare.

“Kid’s missing, man. Show a little class.” Hopper snaps, making them avert their eyes.

“All right…”

He exhales and takes off with the rest of the group, shouting, “Come on, let’s go! We got a lot of ground to cover.” He keeps his fingers crossed that this would be it. That this would be the search that brings them home.

For their mothers' sake.

For his sake.

For every goddamn person out of here’s sake.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE ||

Stephanie shifted through the last cabinet and frowns. “Well, we can’t cook anything because there’s no electricity. But we can eat the dry goods. Unless we can figure out how to start a fire” She sighs, and wrinkles her nose. I mean, they can go a few days without eating if they didn’t want to touch the box of crackers covered in goo. But water? How were they supposed to have water if the faucet comes out with something they probably shouldn’t drink.

She rubs her temples, thinking. “I guess we’re going to have to look for some bottled stuff to drink.” She makes contact with the boy who just entered the room. “How you feeling?”

“Fine. I got a bit of a chill, but we can still grab clothes out of the closets if we need it.” Will replies, hugging his walkie talkie close.

“And the call?”

“Nothing. I mean I could hardly ever get reception over here anyway, so maybe we can try finding a different spot.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea." She says with a sigh. “Where’s the shotgun?”

“Oh, uh– Mom’s room.” He points behind him.

“Alright, maybe I’ll take a peek outside. If it seems clear, maybe we can try to find some reception.”

Stephanie leaves the room with Will looking back at his walkie. He had to remain strong, hopeful. He has to get through to someone. His friends, his family, one of them has to be able–

Wait.

Was he hearing things? Was his mind playing tricks?

His eyes trail to his living room where he swears he heard someone talking. It was faint, but you can’t miss it.

It sounds like… His chest tightens at a thought, his brown orbs blown wide as he looks at the yellow phone on the wall. It was probably hopeless, stupid even, I mean… the damn thing didn’t work when Stephanie tried to call for help when they were being chased. But that was the real world, this was… fake? Maybe it different, maybe it’s—

Oh, shit.

Maybe he’s just grasping at straws at this point and hopes it turns out okay.

His fingers latch around the phone, pulling it off the receiver and dials his home’s number, praying with all his might that this ridiculous idea would actually work.

Come on, come on, come on, come on, com–

Oh, he felt like crying when someone picked up.

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

His mother’s voice broke through and poke him in the heart. He couldn’t breath as relief washed over him like a storm.

[ ‘Hello? Lonnie? Hopper? Who is this?’ ]

Say something, say something, say something– His lip quivers as he swallows. “M-Mom?” He can’t wait till Steph hears about this. “M-Mom, I-It’s me.”

She can hear me right? She has to.

[ ‘Will? Will? It’s Will!’ ]

[ ‘Mom, it’s Will?’ ]

He could cry upon hearing the second voice. “J-Jonathan? Mom? M-Me and Stephanie are tr-trap in some weird place! I-I don’t know what t-to–”

Then he was cut off by the dreadful sound of the monster. Will watched as its claws wrapped around the corner, almost like it was pulling itself into the kitchen. He doesn’t even know where it came from. He didn’t even hear it freaking come in!

He froze on sight, his mother shouting something he couldn’t make out as the beast with no eyes looked directly at him. He wanted to scream but it was stuck in his throat. Is this how he was going to die? Die by listening to his mother’s pleas to answer her?

It shrieked and seemed to get bigger, ready to strike him down before it took a bullet to the face. The shot made it fall against the wall, and Will drops the fried phone and backs himself away. Stephanie looked half scared to death too as she cocks the shotgun again and fires one more when it stands up, sending it flying to the living room. As quickly as her buckling knees could hold her, she rushes over to Will, pulling him behind her as she aims the barrel into the direction the beast was. Shaking intensely, she carefully peeks around the corner to find that it had completely vanished like it did earlier. She gasps in shock before sliding to the ground herself, mentally drained.

“Steph!!” Will calls out with worry. He could see her eyes glassing over, her skin becoming paler as she shouts,

“Where the fuck are we?!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY ||

Steve strolls into school, head in the clouds, and an aching feeling in the pit of his stomach. His sleep went to complete shit after the conversation with his girlfriend last night. He still doesn’t understand why it was affecting him so much. It’s not like him and Steph hung out anymore. So why is he losing sleep over this?

You’re not even friends anymore, Harrington. He mentally slaps himself. Get your shit together–

“Boo!” Tommy yelled, jumping out from behind the corner, startling him.

“Jesus, Hagan.” Steve said, holding his chest while the other teen laughed.

“That was so easy.”

“So–” Carol’s arm snakes around him with a grin. “Did you tell your little girlfriend about your party?”

“I-I… not yet.”

“What? You didn’t tell her at her house yesterday?”

“N-No. Never got the chance to.”

“What?!” Tommy scoffs. “Stealthy Stevie didn’t get to use his skills last night?” Him and his girlfriend laughed, but then grew quiet seeing how distant the King was being. “What the fuck’s going on with you, man?”

“Um…” Steve’s gaze gets caught onto someone else, spotting a certain person posting a certain flier up on the bulletin board. He swallows, and masks a fake smile. “You guys go ahead to class. I got to grab something out of my locker.”

“Oh, we can go with you.” Carol begins, trying to follow him but he shakes them off.

“No, no. Go ahead. I’ll meet you there.” Steve ignores the strange looks they gave him before walking away. Deciding this was the ‘only’ way, he rushes over to the oldest Byers kid, ‘accidently’ pushing his shoulder into his, knocking the papers out of his hand while he was leaving. He scoffs, while saying, “Watch where you’re going!”

Jonathan says nothing as he bends over to collect the rest, oblivious to the other teenager sliding a paper away with his foot. Once he leaves, Steve retrieves the flier from under his shoe, reading it over.

HAVE YOU SEEN ME? Stephanie Henderson Age 16, 5’4” Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, 110lbs. Last seen wearing a brown work uniform, black jacket, white sneakers, and a baseball cap. Reach out to Claudia Henderson or Joyce Byers at #### or ####

Steve stares with a distant look in his eyes, thumb brushing over her picture. Such a gentle smile for a gentle person. God… why did they have to use that picture? It was right before he–

He frowns, throwing his head back.

Fuck…

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the Wheeler’s house, Mike decided to stay home, his parents totally unaware of him doing so. He showed the new girl around his place, acting a bit giggly when they finally got to his room. He was so excited to show off his action figures, and comic books, and anything else that he holds close to his heart. He didn’t even realize she was starting to wander off to where a collection of trophies were. Her brown eyes grew with fascination by them.

“Oh, these are all my science fair trophies. We got first every year.” Mike’s smile drops just a tad. “Except for last year when we got third. Mr. Clarke said it was totally political.”

Yeah, it totally was that. He expected some kind of reaction from her, except for the one where her eyes widened and she slowly pointed to the picture of Will in their fair picture together.

Mike perked up, hopeful. “You know Will? Did you see him? Last Night? On the road? Did–” He pauses. “Hang on a sec.” Maybe he’s getting his hopes up as he grabs another photo after shifting around in his drawer. It was a picture of his friends’ families at the lake, posing nicely for the camera.

He points to the girl in the right hand corner. “This is Stephanie. She’s his sister.” He points to Dustin who’s hanging out behind her. “She supposedly gave Will a ride the night he disappeared, and we can’t find her either. Did you see her too?”

The girl studies Steph’s face, slowly the same reaction she had from seeing Will returned as she pointed again. “I–”

Her answer was cut short when they heard something from outside. Mike gets up quickly, peeking through his curtains to see his mother’s car pulling into the driveway. He pales.

“Shit.” He rushes to grab her by the hand and strings her along. “We gotta hide!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Of course the eldest stayed awake for most of the night, the two of them tucked away in the far corner of Will’s room, her eyes trained on the door just in case that wretched monster appeared again. She kept a good grip on the shotgun, one foot planted on the ground for a quick pop up if needed. Adrenaline was pumping in her blood, she was fighting off her exhaustion and hunger, while a tune played on her dry lips.

“♪ Here we stand

Worlds apart, hearts broken in two. Two. Two

Sleepless nights.

Losing ground, I’m reaching for you. You. You

Feeling that it’s gone

Can’t change your mind

If we can’t go on

To survive–♪”

Will stirred beside her, his head resting on her shoulder that was starting to fall asleep, but she refused to jostle the kid. God knows he needs his rest. Well… so does she, but she’ll get around to that.

Her mind wanders back to the conversation they had last night, the one where Will admitted he spoke to his mother on the phone. Shock wasn’t the right word, especially when she examined the phone that had been burnt black, and when asking again if he heard that right, the youngest Byers swears he did.

Is there actually a way to communicate to… well… ‘our world’, I guess. She ponders on that thought, wondering if it’s possible to do so without frying your phone to death. Not to mention Will swears he heard people talking before calling his mother. Can we only communicate to the people we ‘hear’?

She scolds herself. This hurts my head too much.

“♪ –The tide

Love divides

Someday, love will find you

Break those chains that bind you

One night will remind you

How we touched and went our separate ways

If he ever hurts you

True love won’t desert you

You know I still love you

Though we touched and went our separate ways– ♪”

Will stirred again, this time waking up slowly with a groan. “Was it a dream…?” He whispers, his eyes opening at a snail pace.

“I wish.” Steph says, sadly.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, rubbing his face.

Her heart skips a beat and a lie slips out. “Uh, yeah. It was fine.”

“That’s good.”

“We shouldn’t stay here.” She says, surprising him. “We should probably move around, maybe lose that monster for a while. And you’re probably hungry too, I know my mom keeps cans and bottled water down in our basement for emergencies. That should tie us over for a little while.”

“Is it even safe to go out?” He wonders, yet intrigued. He’ll admit… he is a bit famished.

“I don’t know. But we got to try. Right?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Whoa, whoa. Careful, careful.” Hopper says as he snags his partner by the collar. “I need you alive for the next few days, at least.”

Callahan smirked and scoffed as he gestures to the Quarry below. “Oh, hell, I could survive that.” He said, making his superior laugh. “What? George Burness made the jump. And he was drunk as a skunk. He did it on a $10 bet.”

“George is a liar. You make that jump from this height, that water turns into cement. Hits you like a ton of bricks.” Hopper smacks his hands together. “Break every damn bone in your body.”

The youngster pondered on that for a second before shaking his head. “Nah.”

[ ‘Chief, you copy?’ ]

Hopper grabs his walkie from his belt. “Yeah, Flo, talk to me.”

[ ‘Hey, Chief, we got a call from over at Benny’s. I think you need to get there right away.’ ]

And those were words he didn’t want to hear. So he and his team rushed over there as quickly as they could, and the first they were met with was the smell of a rotting corpse.

“Ugh, Jesus!” Callahan said, covering his nose.

“Suicide?” Powell asked, after a moment of silence.

Hopper hummed and stared in disbelief at the man laying on the table, pistol in hand and a bullet wound straight through the temple. There’s no way this can be real.

“Missing kid, suicide.” Callahan frowns. “You must feel like a big city cop again, huh, Chief?

“Well, I mostly dealt with strangers back then.” Hopper replies, this particular moment he almost broke down. “Benny was my friend.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Stephanie peeked outside before gesturing to Will to follow. The two of them had backpacks on that they found lying around, going to use them to fill up with anything they could find – But the task that lay ahead was going to be hard. The task was…

Walking back through Mirkwood to the Henderson home.

No lights, just a few bullets to spare, and their pure will to survive (Or maybe it’s the fear that’s fueling that will).

“I don’t like this.” Will mutters, only a few minutes after they left the Byers’ driveway and down a few feet on the road. “What if that thing spawns in front of us again?”

“Then we shoot it and book it again. That’s all we can do now.” Steph replies, carefully looking around. But what if he’s right? What if thing actually just spawns out of thin air? Then there’s not telling where and when not to go.

He stays silent, shaking a tad as they make it further down the road. It took a hot minute for the older girl to notice this and stop briefly, the twelve year old’s eyes confused just as she held out her hand. Without missing a beat, his clammy hand takes it, squeezing it tight. She smiles just a tad, reminding her of Dustin before they started walking again.

She felt him hang on to dear life as they strolled into the darkest part of Mirkwood, the eeriness that was silence was making their hearts race. She came to a conclusion after facing the monster last night that she had to be the strong one here. She has to act like the older sister again, and remain calm, and to keep him safe.

I made a promise. I don’t know how to fulfill it just yet, but I’m going to get him out of here. Steph casts a glance down at him, the poor boy’s face looked so cold. Does hers look like that too?

She grins after a quick thought. “Hey–” His eyes locked with hers. “What does a ‘Ranger’ do in D&D? That one sounds intriguing to me.”

His face lights up. “You actually want to play D&D?”

“Hey, you suggested it, I might as well. So, the Ranger? What’s that like? The lore?”

“Well, Rangers are warriors that explore different civilizations, and they hunt down the deadliest of monsters. They’re trained in many different combat techniques, survival skills, and even some magic.”

“Magic? I like the sound of that.”

“They mostly reside in the forest, or anything ‘nature-y’.”

She chuckles. “I don’t like the sound of that. What else? Aren’t there like… classes… or different types?

“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “I guess it depends on what you prefer. Do you want me to tell you?”

“I’m all ears.” Steph said, making a motion. I’m just glad he’s stopped shaking.

“Well, there’s a lot. The most common ones are ‘Beast Masters’, which are accompanied with an animal companion. Then there’s ‘Hunters’, which are mainly just professional assassins that take down monsters of all sorts. Now, even though all Rangers have the capability of taking monsters down, Hunters are strictly made just to do that.”

She hums. “Interesting.”

“Then there’s ‘Gloom Stalkers’, who live mostly in dark realms, and take down the shadowy beasts roaming the territory. They’re pretty good at ambushing their opponents.” He smiles. “Personally, I find that the coolest.”

“Well, I can see why. What else? Do Rangers get weapons?”

“Of course! The most common is a two-blade or archery.”

“Archery sounds cool.”

“See, I agree. But I know Lucas always says it’s ‘stupid’, so–”

Steph shakes her head with a sigh. “Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to prove him wrong when I play.”

“So you are going to play with us!” Will said, joyfully, like you just told him Christmas was coming early.

“If that’s how I prove Lucas wrong, then so be it. So how does one newbie play D&D?” She asked, hopefully this will keep him occupied. At least I can keep him distracted until we get there.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

“Are you out of your mind?�� Lucas said, as soon as Mike was done with his explanation for them being here.

“Just listen to me.” Mike pleads.

“You are out of your mind–”

“She knows about Will and Steph.”

Dustin perks up after being the silent one here. “What do you mean she knows about them?”

Mike grabs the pictures from earlier and holds them up. “She pointed at them, at their picture. She knew they were missing. I could tell.”

“You could tell?” Lucas asked, looking between the pictures and the girl who was on the bed.

“Just think about it. Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found her on Mirkwood, the same place where they disappeared?”

Dustin nodded, agreeing. “That is weird.”

“And she said bad people are after her.” Mike said, with a frown. “I think maybe these bad people are the same ones that took Will and Steph. I think she knows what happened to them.”

“Then why doesn’t she tell us?” Lucas asked, glaring at her direction before stomping over. “Do you know where they are?” He grabs her by the shoulder. “Do you know where Will and Stephanie are?!”

“Stop it, you’re scaring her!” Mike pulls him away, as his friend brushes him off.

“She should be scared! If you know where they are, tell us! This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom.”

“No! Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger.”

“What kind of danger?” Dustin asked, his thoughts from earlier about his sister and Will taking a shotgun with them crossed his mind.

Lucas gives him a weird look. “Her name is Eleven?”

“El for short.” Mike clarifies.

“Mike! What kind of danger?” Dustin pushes, his stomach turning.

“Danger danger!” The brunette makes a finger gun and points it between Henderson’s eyes before moving over towards Lucas who demises quickly.

“No, no, no!” Sinclair snaps, rushing for the door. “We’re going back to plan A. We’re telling your mom.”

He pulls open the door only for it to slam shut automatically. Not even batting an eye at that, he tries again, for it to not only to shut with more force but to even lock itself. The boys look back at the only explanation, and they see El standing on her feet with a drop of blood coming out of her nose.

“No.” She said, with a tone that told them not to push it.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the station, Hopper was questioning an anxious friend of Benny’s. Earl was his name, and he was sitting in a chair, eyes full of disbelief as he lit a cigarette.

“Just doesn’t make any sense, Chief.”

“You, uh, notice anything odd about him the last few weeks?” Hopper asked, trying to keep it professional (even though this case was hurting him the most).

Earl shakes his head. “No, we’re fixin’ to go fishing down the Etowah next Sunday. I mean, he was lookin’ forward to it. I know that.”

“He got any enemies you might know about? I mean, people who might not want him around?”

“The exes didn’t like him much. That’s for sure, but… nah.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Yesterday. Lunch, same as always.”

“Just you and the boys?”

“Yep. Me and Henry and…” He pauses. “Well, there was this, uh, this kid. No kid did this.”

“Kid?” Hopper nearly perked up hope. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah. At lunch, uh, there was this boy that, uh I mean, he was trying to steal food out of Benny’s kitchen. Can you imagine that?”

Hopper locked eyes with Callahan who got the silent message. “This kid what’d he look like?”

“Well, he was about yea high.” Earl raises his arm up and out. “You know, tiny like. I didn’t get a good look at him, though. He was back in the kitchen.”

“He look like this?” Callahan asked, coming back with a missing kid poster of Will.

He takes the flier, and immediately shakes his head. “Oh, no, that’s… that’s Lonnie’s missin’ kid. No. This was a different kid. This one had really short hair. I mean, it was buzzed nearly down to the scalp.”

Hopper tries not to let his composure break, and continues to hold on to the slimmer of hope. “Yeah, well, let’s… You know, let’s forget about the haircut. I mean, if this kid had a buzz cut… could it be Lonnie’s kid?”

“Well, I-I… didn’t get a good look at him. About the right height, though. I mean, could’ve been. Yeah, that’s… Could’ve been.”

Hopper frowns, taking the poster back from him. “And, you only saw the boy right? No girl? Teenager? Dark hair?”

“No.” Earl shakes his head once more. “No. I didn’t see a girl.”

The Chief mentally sighs. This is not good.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

[ ‘A party?’ ]

Finally! Steve thought, pumping his fist. She finally sounded intrigued. He was hoping this would make up for his weird behavior at school.

And, no, no, no, It wasn’t because of– well… ‘you know who’. Totally not because of her. Totally, totally, totally not–

[ ‘Steve?’ ]

Nancy’s voice broke through his totally not clouded mind. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Yeah, a party. Well… kind of. It’s just going to be me, Tommy H. and Carol. No parents for the whole weekend, so we wouldn’t have to worry about them coming in and ruining the mo-jo.”

Just my friends and my girlfriend. Just having fun, no worries about–

[ ‘Not much of a party with just four people.’ ]

He laughs. “Okay, I’ll admit, it’s a little sad. But you know, it’s better this way. And, you know, if you want to, you can invite Barbara. If it makes you feel more comfortable. Or not. Or you don’t have to come–”

[ ‘Steve.’ ]

“Yeah?”

[ ‘I’ll totally come. But I’m going to try to convince Barb first if that’s alright.’ ]

“Yeah, Yeah. Totally. It starts at seven.”

[ ‘Starts at seven. Got it. I’ll see you then.’ ]

He smiles. “See you then. Bye.”

[ ‘Bye.’ ]

“Yes!” He said, once he hung up the phone. “Finally.” He feels his spirits get lifted again. “This is going to be perfect.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

“Welcome to Mi Casa.” Stephanie said, upon entering her home. Just as gross and dark as Will’s.

“You said the basement, right?” Will asked, the thought of eating something sounded nice.

“Yep.”

They thought navigating below “sunlight” was going to be hard, but I guess living in darkness for nearly twenty-four hours had its perks. Finding the tote where the emergency supplies were easier than they thought, their stomachs growing when they saw the cans of food.

“Hang on second.” Steph said, disappearing back up the stairs for a sec, and then coming back with some forks and a can opener. She uses her shirt to wipe it clean the best she could before using. “Pineapple or Peaches?”

“Pineapple, please.” Will said, drooling as she placed the open can in his hands. The two of them plop down criss-cross applesauce, sighing with relief that they could finally take a rest.

“We’ll have to take what we can, but don’t make your bag too heavy in case we need to run again. Got it?” She replies, sliding over a bottle of water to him too. He nods, and takes a second to chug some liquid too.

One can was enough for now, since none of them had any clue how long they’ll be here, they’ll need to ration what they can find. Food, water, a first aid kit, some mittens and hats, an extra jacket, socks (And Will was proud to find a half box of matches laying around).

“Do we need anything else?” He asked, making her think.

She hums, and feels around her pockets. “We need more ammo. Or another gun at least.”

“Do you have any?”

“No. I don’t.” She closes her eyes. Now where could we get more nearby?

But the more she thought about it, the more she dreaded. She does know one place they have a gun, and hopefully still does since it’s been so long.

She sighs. “I know… one place that has a gun. It’s far though. Really far. It’ll take us a couple hours to get there on foot. But it’s closer than going to town.”

“If that’s what we have to do, then let’s do it.” Will said, sliding his backpack back on, ready to start their journey again. He flashes her a goofy grin. “I hope I can count this as PE for school.”

If that was a joke to cheer her up then it totally worked.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now that they might have a lead, the police and its volunteers spread out in the woods behind Benny’s diner, hoping to find some good news (For Hopper’s sake he really hopes so).

“Hey, you think Earl really saw Will?” Callahan asked, trying to keep up with his Boss’ speed. “I mean, what’s he doin’ with a shaved head? And stealing food from Benny?”

“Tell you what, when we find him, we’ll ask.” Hopper replies, with an attitude.

“Can’t ask a corpse questions.” Powell said, getting a glare. Suddenly, one of the volunteers blew a whistle.

“Hold up! You got something?” Hopper shouted and broke into a sprint. “Hey, what do you got?”

“Not sure.” The person said, crouching down next to a drain. “Maybe nothing. I found this. In there.”

Hopper takes a piece of fabric from his hand, before shining his flashlight through the drain, still hopeful that maybe he was lying in there, scared but safe.

“No way a kid crawls through there.” Powell said, in denial.

“I don’t know… a scared enough one might. His brother said he was good at hiding.”

“Yeah, but, just Will?” Callahan asked, conflicted. “What happened to Stephanie? ‘Cause there ain’t no way a teenager’s going to fit through this drain pipe.”

“Maybe they separated?” Powell questioned.

“I’m not so sure about that. Claudia said her daughter would never leave anyone behind.”

“Willingly that is.”

“Come on, you two.” Hopper said, jogging again.

This time, they decided to follow the drain pipe that led them further into the forest. Just as their knees were about to give out, they’re met with an electric fence and a keep out sign for the one and only…

Hawkins Lab.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“El?” Mike announces his arrival into the basement. He had just finished having dinner with his family, and even convinced his mom to let his friends stay the night. All part of his plan to figure out what was happening to his missing family.

“No adults. Just us and some meatloaf.” He continues, placing a tray down in front of the makeshift fort, letting her know to come out. Her eyes trail to him and then to the two boys falling behind. “Don’t worry. They won’t tell anyone about you. They promise. Right?”

“We never would’ve upset you if we knew you had superpowers.” Dustin said, before getting hit in the leg by Mike. “Ow!”

“What Dustin is trying to say is that they were just scared… earlier. That’s all.”

“We just wanted to find our friends.” Lucas admitted, feeling a tad guilty for his actions.

“‘Friends’?” El asked, confused by that word. It was so foreign to her. What does it even mean?

“Yeah, friends. Will? Steph?”

“What are ‘friends’?”

Lucas gave her a weird look. “Is she serious?” Henderson shrugged. “Um, a friend–”

“Is someone that you’d do anything for.” Mike cuts in.

“You lend them your cool stuff, like comic books and trading cards.” Dustin adds.

“And they never break a promise.”

“Especially when there’s spit.” Lucas also puts in, making sure she was getting it.

“Spit?” El said, tilting her head.

“A spit swear means–” He spits into his palm. “You never break your word.” He holds his hand out for Dustin to take and shake. “It’s a bond.”

Mike nods in agreement. “That’s super important, because friends… they tell each other things. Things that parents don’t know.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Barbara finally pulls the car over to the side after her friend insisted they stop here. She looks over at the brunette with a strange look. “What are we doing here? His house is three blocks away.”

“We can’t park in the driveway.” Nancy said, making the ginger roll her eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, the neighbors might see.”

“This is so stupid.” Barb shakes her head. “I’m just gonna drop you off.”

“Calm down, Barb. Come on. You promised that you’d go.” Nancy pleaded with her ‘baby doe’ face. “You’re coming. We’re gonna have a great time.”

“He just wants to get in your pants.”

Nancy chuckles with disbelief. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Nance… seriously. He invited you to his house. His parents aren’t home. Come on, you are not this stupid.”

“Tommy H. and Carol are gonna be there.”

“Tommy and Carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade.” Barb cringes at the thought. “It’ll probably just be, like, a big orgy.”

“Gross.”

“I’m serious!”

“All right, well…” Nancy takes her seat belt off and starts unbuttoning her sweater. “You can be, like, my guardian. All right? Make sure I don’t get drunk and do anything stupid.”

“Ugh.” Barb said, shaking her head. She watches as her friend takes her top off and starts fiddling around in her purse for another one. “Is that a new bra?”

Nancy pauses. “No.”

“So, obvious, Nancy…”

“Hey.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“What’s the weirdo doing?” Lucas asked, watching her sit at their D&D table and close her eyes.

“El?” Mike said, as they gathered around, waiting.

When she opens her eyes, she slowly gravitates to one of the pieces and picks it up. “Will.” She replies, showing it was the Wizard piece, the one that the boy always plays as.

“Superpowers.” Dustin said, as Lucas rolled his eyes, still not convinced about this whole thing.

“Did you see him? On Mirkwood? Do you know where he is?” Mike asks, just before she brushes the rest of the figures off the board and flips it over. She places the wizard piece on the board. “I don’t understand.”

“Hiding.” She replies, the boys looking at one another. She then places another figure down, surprising them.

“Who is that supposed to be?” Lucas asked, as Dustin perked up.

“The Ranger. Is that Stephanie?” He asked, as she nodded. “Are they hiding?” She nods again. “Together.” Another nod.

“From the bad men?” Mike asked, but she shakes her head in disappointment. “Then from who?”

And without saying another word she places another figure down.

It was a beast with two heads.

The Demogorgon.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

It took a while like she said, and luckily they had no trouble getting there, but what was troubling the young boy was that she wouldn’t tell him where they were going. Was she embarrassed by this place? Did something happen? He doesn’t know, but it’s gnawing at him.

“We’ve arrived.” She said, as they were coming up to it.

It was… a pretty big house, much bigger than his and even his friends’ houses. He wonders if this was one of the rich neighbourhoods or something like that. And sure enough… his questions would be answered when he happened to catch the name on the mailbox.

Oh.

Now he understands why she didn’t say anything.

“So this is the…” Was he choosing his words correctly? “The King’s house?”

“Yep.” Stephanie said, hand on the doorknob which miraculously opened. She rolls her blue eyes. “They still keep it unlocked.” They stepped inside, still gloomy and covered in vines and goo like the last two. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Will follows behind, observing everything that seemed a bit foreign for him. “I knew they were rich but I didn’t know they were that rich.” He said after observing art piece after art piece that he knows isn’t locally made.

“Yeah, they got crazy money.” She said, and her pace seemed to quicken without her noticing. She hustles into the parents room, opening the closet to find a safe. “Shit.” She forgot about the lock. “Where did that bastard put the key?”

Stephanie starts running around the bedroom, pulling open drawers, looking through trinkets, his wife’s jewelry box too – A curse word after every failed attempt.

“Steph?” Will said, worriedly.

“Just give me a second.” She snapped, and left the room. She starts opening the drawers from the tables in the hallway, visibly getting more annoyed with each second. “For fuck sakes–”

“Stephanie!”

“What?!” She slammed it shut, rattling everything that was on. The force and her tone seemed to shock him, and even take a small step back. She grips the table, closing her eyes to calm herself. “Fuck. I just…”

And when she opens them she finds herself staring at the boy she wanted to forget about. It was a picture of him on his swim team, the frame saying: Championship 1981. She just stares at with emotions the youngest Byers couldn’t figure out what they were.

“Steph?” He asked, slowly.

“Yeah?”

“What happened to you and Steve?”

She continues to stare at the photo for another minute before pushing herself to stand. “I think he still keeps that knife in his room.” Was what she muttered before heading in the opposite direction to another room.

Will could only wonder what really happened to them…

Just as the lights started to flicker.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

Inside the most “fabulous” party of the year, Barb laid back in one of the pool chairs, listening to the terrible music that’s blasting in her ear as her best friend watches her boyfriend slice a hole into a beer can and start drinking it all in one go.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Nancy asked, as he sat down and lit a cigarette.

“You’re not?” Steve asked, genuinely surprised.

“You are a cliche, you do realize that?”

“You are a cliche. What with your– your grades and your band practice.”

“I’m so not in band.”

“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?” He hands her the knife and a can.

“Okay.” She says, all giggly.

“You gotta make a little hole right in–”

“I got it.”

“Yeah, she’s smart, you douche!” Tommy said, as he crushes his own can on his forehead.

Soon, everyone was chanting “Chug” as Nancy down a whole beer in under thirty seconds. Everyone cheered and laughed, proud at the achievement.

“Barb, you wanna try?” Nancy asked, holding the blade up.

“What? No. No, I don’t want to. Thanks.” She said, shaking her head. But after a quick back and forth badgering she finally gave in. She rips the items out of the girl’s hand, clearly upset. It wasn’t long before her judgment was clouding her mind and accidentally nicks herself.

“Whoa, Gnarly.” Tommy said, impressed by the deep cut.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked, worriedly.

“Yeah.” Barb said, trying to push her away.

“Barb, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, it’s– Steve stands up, and starts taking her over to the sliding door. “It’s, uh, down past the kitchen, to the left.” He frowns. Shit of course.

But before he could say anything, Tommy had pushed Carol into the pool and then jumped in after her. Steve then shrugs, and lets a smirk play on his face as he does the same to Nancy before doing a cannonball.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

Steph tries to contain herself as she enters his room. It was taking a lot of strength not to just start flipping things over, and tear those stupid pendants off the wall.

Stupid fucking house. Stupid fucking room. Stupid fucking Harrington. She grits her teeth, fighting back the tears in her eyes as she desperately tries to remember where he hid the blade.

She lets out a groan. “For fuck sake’s, man! Where did you put it?!” She yells, and kicks whatever was near her. She swears something must have fallen out from it, but she doesn’t even want to look.

God damn you, Harrington. She scolds, and rubs her face. How can he–

That’s when the light in his room flickered on and off scaring her half to death. “What the–”

“Stephanie!” Will’s voice shouted, kicking her into high gear.

“Fuck.” She mumbles, and races to find that blade.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

As soon as Barb comes out of the bathroom, she immediately spots a certain someone heading up the stairs. “Nance! Nancy.” She shouts, getting her to stop. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. Just… upstairs. To change. I… fell in the pool.” Nancy said, feeling like she was on cloud nine. “Why don’t you go ahead and go home. I’ll just… I’ll get a ride or something.”

“Nance–”

“Barb, I’m fine.”

“This isn’t you.”

“I’m fine. Just go ahead and go home, okay?”

And then Nancy leaves her all alone, confused and heartbroken by her friend’s actions. But despite being hurt, she couldn’t just up and leave her drunken buddy like this. So…

She decides to wait.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Steve had found her some clothes she could change in, and he was grinning like a kid upon the thought of seeing his girlfriend in his clothes.

I’m such a dork. He tells himself as she calls out his name. “Yeah?” There was a look in her eyes that he’s never seen before, and honestly was turned on by it.

But ‘Fuck that’, says the universe, and the home phone starts to ring.

He groans, irritated. “Hang on a second–” He proceeds to run out of the room, and shouts, “Hey! Turn the music down in case it’s my parents.”

Nancy chuckles, cheeks flush because she was ready to lose her– wait. Did something just touch her leg? She looks down to find that a box was tipped over and had opened, and wonders when that happened. Did she accidently kick it without realizing? Or was it already like that? Frankly, curiosity got the best of her as she crouched down to try to fix it. But then, her actions slowed when she saw something.

The Wheeler picks up a paper – a flier – to her surprise was the missing poster of Stephanie Henderson.

“What?” She says, quietly, confusedly. Why was he keeping this? And that’s when she puts two and two together. She starts shifting through the small pile which was made up of photos, movie tickets, receipts from a record store, arcade tokens and– “Oh, my god.”

Suddenly, Steve comes jogging back in, relief on his face. “False alarm. It was just–”

“So who is she to you?” Nancy asked, standing up and flashing the memorabilia at him.

His face falls immediately. “Hey, that’s–”

“Is she the person that was rumored you pushed away?”

“It’s nothing.” Steve replies, trying to take the stuff away from her, but she ain’t budging.

“It’s nothing, or she’s nothing?”

“It’s– W-What? You jealous?” He asked, trying to play this thing off cool, but his girlfriend wasn’t stupid.

“I’m not jealous. I’m just curious.” Nancy replies, honestly. She takes another look at the photos in her hand before looking back at him. “I mean, if she isn’t your friend anymore, then why do you hang on to all this stuff? Or better question–”

“Nancy, stop, it’s just–”

“Why did you break it off?”

His brain short circuits again. “What?”

“I said, ‘Why did you break it off?’ I mean…” She flips through some of the photos he has, memorized. “From what I see, you two remind me of Barb and I. You two look like you were tied at the hip. So why break it off?”

“I…” Why couldn’t he fucking talk all of a sudden? “I didn’t, I–”

“So, she broke it off?” She said, eyebrow raised.

“No. I-I broke it off, she didn’t do anything–”

“So… why did you?”

“Nancy–”

“Look, I just want to understand you. I mean, every time I think I have you figured out you throw me through a loop.” She gives him a reassuring look as she picks up the box, shuffling whatever was remaining around. “I mean, from what I see, you seem like a completely different person then. I just wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad–”

Now it was her turn to look lost (and for Steve to lose all the color in his face). She frowns, slowly pulling out a small casing. “Is this a… bullet?”

“That’s nothing!” He manages to snag at least that away.

“Why do you have a bullet in the box?!” She asks, eyes blown wide.

He swallows. “Nancy–”

“Did you shoot her or something?”

“What?!” He scoffs. “No! Why would I shoot her?!”

“Well did she shoot you?”

“No! Nobody shot anybody, it was just–”

“Then why do you have a stray bullet cas–”

“‘CAUSE IT WAS MY FAULT!! OKAY?!” Steve snaps, startling them both (He can’t believe he just lost his cool like that). He swallows again, head spinning at the memories (Why did he fucking leave the box right there?). “I just… there was an incident and… it… shaped my decision, okay? But it didn’t involve me or her with a gun, it was… s-someone else. Someone I know. I don’t know why I’m holding onto it, I…” He sighs and grabs the box, holding it out for her to put the stuff away.

It takes her a moment to process it all, and she does put all the stuff in her hands away, but she remains silent the whole time. She’s never seen him act this way before.

It honestly concerned her.

Nancy breaks eye contact, and only reverses it when she gathers the right words. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry I intruded, I probably shouldn’t have but… I’m just trying to understand you.”

Steve shakes his head, still confused. “I-I…” He shrugs, and crosses his arms defensibly. “What’s there to understand?”

Nancy gestures to him and says, “Well, for starters, you’re an airhead and–”

“So?” He cuts in, as she holds her tongue and continues.

“And you’re arrogant, snarky, and sweet–”

“Sweet’s fine.”

“Of course. Sweet’s fine. I love how nice you are to me, Steve.” She then frowns for him. “However, that gets overshadowed by your… insecurities.”

He pauses, now it was his turn to take in those words (What the hell did she mean by that? He’s not… no). “I don’t… I don’t have any… any–”

“Steve.” Nancy takes a step closer. “I don’t know why the kid in these pictures decided to change into the one I’m seeing before me, but if that doesn’t have to do with any insecurities, then I’m not sure why you decided to make that change willingly.”

“I… W-Willingly?” He scoffs again. “What do you mean? I never change willingly? What are you even getting at, Nance?” He hasn’t changed. He’s never changed. What is she even getting at?

But Nancy looked at him with eyes full of pity and took another step closer. “I don’t know what the reason was for you two to stop being friends, but all I know, from what I gathered, she wasn’t the one to end it.” She places Steph’s flier on his chest that he subconsciously grabbed, and said one last thing before leaving his room. And that was,

“Maybe there was a good reason for you to end it, but that’s not an excuse for you to stop being who you really are.”

And Steve’s left with an epiphany he’s not sure he can decipher.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

As soon as the lock was broken, she retrieved the gun from the safe and frantically told her companion to get down the stairs. Will and Steph’s hearts were in their ears, and it sped up when the light above the front door flickered.

“Shit–” She pulls the boy to a halt, and redirects them to the back door. “Go, go, go, go, go.”

She throws open the sliding door, and out into the backyard, but as soon as they step foot onto the ground, the lights around the empty pool start to flicker. The two of them stopped immediately and held their breaths. They weren’t sure where the beast was at, but it was definitely nearby ready to snatch them up.

They were afraid to even breathe or twitch. What if this thing really does appear out of thin air?

They both jolted when a loud growl came from somewhere inside the pool. Wasting no time, Steph taps Will on the arm and makes a shushing gesture, then waves him to follow her. The boy understood completely, and the two of them move slowly, so carefully that there’s not way–

The both of them screamed when two human hands grabbed onto the top of the pool ladder.

A girl’s head poked up, face battered and covered in grime, her glasses shattered and splattered with blood. The girl looked so fam–

“Nancy!!” She shouts, as something growls behind her, scaring all of them to their core. And when her eyes landed on the two of them, she desperately yelled for help just seconds before the beast’s claws wrapped around her head and pulled her back.

Will and Steph matched the girl’s scream, and the beast roared in delight that his prey was just right in front of it. Its claws could be seen grabbing the ladder, like it was trying to crawl out and feast.

That’s when the two of them booked it.

The guns rattled in their hands.

The tears in their eyes.

Whatever this place was, they knew…

This couldn’t get compared to hell itself.

(TBC)

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

@emsownuniverse @unspecifiedvisitor @smaryamsstuff @kitty49646

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ladykailitha · 2 years ago

Text

The Eddie Munson Guide to Dating an Oblivious Jock Part 6

The last part. Thank you everyone for all the love and support this little story has gotten. It’s been such a wild ride.

I have started writing the next part of “Can Anybody See Me?” but I really want to write Steve taking a recovering Eddie to the Ozzy Osborne/Metalica concert in Indy. So we’ll see what happens there.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5

Appendix: Sleeping Together

“Wait, wait,” Max said. “I thought we weren’t going to be talking about sex in this?”

“This isn’t about sex,” Eddie said with a grin. “I promise. Besides the last thing I want to discuss with you is my sex life.”

“Thank god for that,” she sighed. “Then what are we talking about?”

Depending on the person you may get a chance to fall asleep with them before you are together. This is how you navigate that with your feelings being what they are.

“Oh.”

Eddie smile was strained. “Yeah. Oh.”

“I didn’t think about that,” Max admitted. “It’s something Lucas and I used to do all the time.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “It’s why I brought it up. In case it’s something that happens naturally while you’re wooing your jock.”

“Is that what happened with you and Steve?” she asked. “You just fell into it naturally.”

Eddie bit his lip. “You cannot tell the others about this. Steve doesn’t want anyone to know.”

Max straightened up. “I promise.”

Through the fog of sleep, Eddie could distantly hear the sound of a phone ringing. He looked over at his alarm clock bleary eyed. It was after three in the morning.

Distantly he could hear the ringing stop as Wayne answered the phone, the deep timbre of his uncle’s voice as he groggily spoke into the phone. He heard the sound of the phone being put down. He knew it wasn’t an emergency. Whoever it was would have used the walkie-talkie if it was.

Wayne knocked on the door to his bedroom. “Eddie, you awake?”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, I’m up.” He got to his feet and answered the door. “What’s up?”

“It’s your boy, Steve,” Wayne said gruffly. “It sounds pretty bad.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” And as he passed his uncle he murmured, “He’s not my boy.”

Wayne chuckled. “Not yet, but I know how you get when you go a courtin’. You’ve been chasing that boy for months.”

Eddie blushed. “Some things are worth the wait.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Eddie hurried to the phone and picked it up. “Hey, Stevie.”

“I’m sorry to call so late,” Steve whispered into the phone. “I had a nightmare that you bled out in my arms and needed to hear your voice.”

Shit.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he murmured his assurances. “Do you want me to come to your place and keep you company awhile?”

There was silence on the line for a moment or two before the tentative, “Yes,” came from the other end.

“I’m on my way, beautiful,” Eddie said. “Do you think you can unlock the door for me?”

There was a whine on the other end that Eddie took as a distinct NO.

“Is your window open?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed.

“‘Kay, darlin’,” Eddie replied. “You keep it open for me and I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

“Holy shit,” Max said.

“Do you know you say that a lot?” Eddie asked.

“Oh fuck off,” she spat. “I didn’t realize he got nightmares like that.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “He doesn’t want you guys to know because if he breaks down then glue keeping the party from a full on meltdown is gone and he can’t–”

“He doesn’t want to be responsible for the implosion that would happen as a result,” she said softly.

“So don’t let the others know, okay?”

“You have my word on Billy’s grave,” she said solemnly.

Eddie nodded.

When Eddie got to Steve’s house he stood in front of it with his hands on his hips looking up at Steve’s window.

Shit.

There were some bushes and things in front the house but nothing that he use to climb up. He wander around to the back. He stood on one of the loungers and bounced, testing if it would take his weight.

Once he was satisfied that it would, he dragged it over to the side of the house and made his way to the up to the lower part of the roof. He scrambled over the tile on all fours trying not to slip and fall. He finally made it through Steve’s window to see the man pressed against his bedroom door, clutching his nail bat, eyes squeezed shut.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “It’s just me.”

Steve opened his eyes and sighed. He dropped the bat and lunged at Eddie, throwing his arms around his waist as he sobbed.

“Oh, hey there,” he murmured once he was sure they weren’t going to be tumbling through window and to their deaths. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Steve let out a little sigh. It was more like a hiccup but it wasn’t a sob and Eddie was going to fucking take that as a win.

Eddie bullied Steve over to the bed and immediately spotted a problem. There was barely enough room for Steve on the damn thing. He sighed. There was nothing for it. He laid down first and held out his arms for Steve to lay on top of him.

Steve went willing and curled his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he mumbled by way explanation.

“Ah.” That made sense. “You want to tell me what happened?”

Steve nuzzled his chest a moment. “Me, Nance, and Robin were fighting Vecna and suddenly I could hear Dustin’s screams. Just full on screaming. But I could tell he wasn’t...he hadn’t–”

“You knew he wasn’t the one hurt?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. “We destroyed Vecna and I came running. But by the time I got there it was too late. You were cracking jokes trying to make Dustin feel better, and then you were gone.”

“That’s not what happened though,” Eddie reminded him gently. “I’m here all thanks to you.”

Steve sighed. “I know that. Objectively, I know that. But...”

“But there is nothing the mind loves more than the worst possible ‘what if...’,” he said gently.

Steve lifted his head to look Eddie in the eye. “Do you...? I mean, have you had those thoughts?”

Eddie kissed his forehead. “Sure do, sweetheart. What if Jason and his friends caught me on Lover’s Lake? What if Jason had hurt Lucas and Max? What if Vecna won and everyone but me died?”

“Those are some pretty terrible what ifs,” Steve muttered, settling back down on Eddie’s chest.

“So let’s make a deal,” Eddie said. “When I have those dreams I call you and vice versa?”

Eddie could feel Steve’s smile against the plain of his chest. “I just have one condition.”

“What’s that, Stevie?”

“That you don’t tell people about me having nightmares,” he murmured.

“Why not?”

Eddie could feel the hot tears soak his shirt as Steve gripped it tight. “They expect me to the strong one. The one all this washes over, what do you think will happen if I break down?”

“They’ll see you’re human and cheer?” Eddie said.

Steve let out a bitter laugh. “If only.”

Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around Steve and fought back tears of his own. Yeah. If only. But they both knew that wasn’t the case. The party would fucking riot. It would be beyond chaos, it would be outright pandemonium.

“So let me take care you,” he whispered. “Let me be the one to some of the burden of taking care of everyone else, by taking care of you.”

Steve lifted his head again. “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie gently pushed Steve’s head back on his chest and sighed. It was going to be a long night. For both of them.

Max smiled. “Thank you. On behalf of all of us. Even though they can never know. Thank you. Since the two of you started this, he’s been happier. He has more fun. And that’s all thanks to you.”

Eddie ducked his head. “I think it helps that I have been through all of what the rest of you have. Yes, my time in the Upside Down was traumatic but it’s still a drop in the bucket of what Steve has gone through.”

“Yeah.”

“So I guess navigating your emotions for sleeping in the same bed,” Max concluded, “is about putting their needs above yours?”

“Right in one, Red,” Eddie said. “It’s not easy. Not even close. But you’re there for them.”

She nodded.

Afterword:

They were all together again for another movie night when Lucas cornered Steve in the kitchen.

“Hey, Steve,” Lucas asked shifting from one foot to the other.

Steve looked up from the fridge where he was pulling out the sodas. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if I could ask you for some advice. Like romantic advice.”

Steve set the soda on the counter. “If you’re wanting to know how I bagged Eddie, the answer is I don’t know. I still can’t figure it out.”

Eddie walked in just as Steve said the line and started laughing. “Some day I’ll explain it to you, sweetheart.”

Lucas looked dejected, but Steve patted him on the back. “You’ll get there, too.”

Eddie followed Lucas out to the front room and winked at Max. She smiled back and walked up to Lucas, taking some of the sodas from him to help.

“Hey,” she said brightly. “I was going to the skate park on Sunday to work on a new trick. You want to come watch?”

Lucas’s eyes lit up. “Yeah? Anyone else gonna be there?”

She shook her head. “Not anyone we know anyway, there might be some other kids out there though.”

Lucas smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Great!” she said. “We can go together. You can bike and I’ll skate.”

Steve came up behind Eddie and wrapped his arms around his waist and put his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “You think there is hope for those two?”

“If she follows my guide to dating an oblivious jock,” Eddie teased, “I’m sure she’ll do fine.”

“Your what?!”

Eddie cackled and tried to escape but Steve held him tight. “You are an absolute menace, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie turned just enough to peck Steve on the lips. “Yes, but I’m your menace, Steve Harrington.”

Steve cocked his head to the side and then spun Eddie around so that they were facing each other. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Eddie threw his arms around Steve’s shoulders and kissed him hard on the lips. “By the way, getting your jock alone is step three or four depending on your jock.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve murmured. “What are steps one and two?”

Eddie gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Like I said in the kitchen, Stevie, I’ll tell you all about it later. I promise.”

“Oi!” Dustin called from the center of the floor. “Can you two stop being so disgusting for two minutes so we can start the movie?”

“I’ll hold you to that, sunshine,” Steve said and then let Eddie go.

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and led him to the sofa where Robin was already waiting for them.

As the movie started, Eddie kissed the top of Steve’s head and looked over at Max and Lucas who were chatting excitedly about the new move Max was learning.

Yeah, they were going to be just fine.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @this-is-mycrisis @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @artiststarme @steddie-there @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @thebrazilianatheist @rozzieroos @whalesharksart @mightbeasleep @theotalksalot @avacrebs @sassysleeplord @exhibit-no-restraint @sjullay @thesuninyaface @everywherenothere @nerdsconquerall @persephone13 @wrenisflying @lillemilly @cr0w-culture @edgelordesworld @manda-panda-monium

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #lumax #1000 followers #ladykailtiha writes

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inklessletter · 2 years ago

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No, but hear me out; Steve is genuinely good with kids and toddlers. Like, absurdly good. He engages with them because he finds them not only adorable, but really fun to be around. Steve kind of gets how they think, loves to play with them, their funny logic, how seriously they take what’s happening in their busy little minds. He finds them fascinating, and they often surprise him in the best ways. Steve respects them, and kids perceive that and love and respect him back. Also, to Steve, spending time with kids is socially freeing. When he’s around kids he’s not worrying about social cues, or saying something wrong, or can stop paying attention to his manners or his looks.

Steve loves kids, and kids love him back.

And Holly Wheeler is the living proof of that.

Read it on Ao3

There is a bonus scene of this, just saying

—

You drew stars (around my scars)

Mike was the only one in the family who actively resisted to like Steve. Since he set foot in the Wheelers household, everyone in the family seemed to be head over heels for him. He had heard his father admitting more than once that Steve was a fine good young man; his mom was delighted with him since the very first dinner because he helped with the cleaning up after every time (he even brought flowers every now and then, ugh); and of course, he had to endure Nancy’s annoying pining and giggling for months. Then they started dating and he was at home almost every day and it was insufferable having him around every goddamn day.

But the worst one was Holly.

Before Steve, Holly used to chase Mike around, wanting to be with him all the time. Of course, Mike shoved her out almost every time, especially when his friends were over. Lucas understood him; he knew what having an annoying little sister was like. Sometimes she was around, when they were drawing their D&D characters, Will would save a seat for her and let her borrow his big box of colors, or Dustin gave her treats under the table.

Mike Wheeler didn’t want to deal with Holly after him all the time, but when Steve showed up, Holly got totally smitten with him. He wouldn’t pressure her to give him a kiss, but instead, he high fived her. Steve called Holly “Super Star”.

“Hey, what’s up, Super Star? How was school today? Did Timmy borrow your doll? Again?”

“Hey Super Star, wanna sit next to me for dinner? I bet I can beat you, I’ll eat my baby carrots faster than you!”

“I heard Super Star was feeling funny in the tummy today. Are you okay? Will you feel better if we make a tea party with your stuffed buddies? Yeah?”

Then, suddenly Super Star didn’t want to do anything with Mike anymore. Now it was all Steve.

(Sure, Mike didn’t like having her around, but he didn’t want Steve to steal her from him either. That’s two out of two, not that long ago, Nancy actually DMed campaigns for him and his friends, and then she decided she liked him and now it was suddenly a dumb game.)

When Nancy dumped his stupid ass in November of 1985 Mike almost made a happy dance. The nightmare was over.

But the fucker appeared at the door the day before Christmas with a gift for Holly. He didn’t stay for dinner, but he handed it to Karen.

It was a stupid light board.

Dustin was suddenly attached to him now. Now they were friends. Lucas was also fond of him. Steve was cool now for his friends too, apparently. And don’t get him wrong, what he did to defend them was amazing. He hated to admit that it was a little bit cool (but Steve’s panicked face when he woke up in the back of Billy’s car driven by Max was awesome).

Yeah, after all that shit they talked a little bit. Mike made himself crystal clear that he still didn’t like him, and Steve just sighed and told him that he knew. Mike was about to go victorious after that, but Stupid Steve had to add “anyhow, if you need anything, you can always reach me.”

He still kept showing up for Holly’s birthdays. He still brought her Christmas presents secretly. Mike knew that Steve showed up considerably early when he was going to pick him up and his friends to give them a ride to the arcade, or to the mall, or wherever just to spend half an hour playing with Holly.

Holly laughed the loudest whenever they were playing in the living room together. And it’s not that Mike wasn’t glad that his sister was happy, it was just— He couldn’t be so flawless. Nancy called him bullshit, she must have seen something in him. No one was that perfect.

He was still around for the upcoming apocalypses. He was starting to make peace with the fact that Steve wasn’t going anywhere, when he stole yet another friend from Mike.

Now he and Eddie had bonded.

They were often together and that riled Mike up like no other. Hawkins was full of people, did Steve have to put a goddamn spell on anyone around him?

Even when Mike hosted in his basement the Hellfire campaigns after Eddie graduated, Eddie showed up at his front door with Steve.

“You are not a Hellfire member, Steve,” Mike deadpanned.

As an answer, Steve lifted a box. A brand new toy doctor kit. He smiled.

“I didn’t come to see you anyway. Isn’t Holly’s birthday this weekend? I have an early gift for her.”

“You’re so lame.”

“Get new material, Wheeler,” Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie observed the interaction, both of them coming in. Mike closed the door.

“Well, I mean, I’m not surprised you want to spend so much time with Holly, I guess you need someone of your intellect so you can stop feeling stupid all the time around adults.”

Steve stopped for a second. He looked at him as if he wanted to actually reply. He let out a sigh, and went upstairs. God, Mike resisted the urge to fully smile. He glanced at Eddie, who was giving him a dead serious, borderline angry look.

Mike rolled his eyes.

“Wheeler, while I do appreciate that you’re hosting the new campaign, I’m gonna say something, and I’m gonna say this just once, so listen carefully. Treat him like this once more, and you’re out of Hellfire.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“No, you being an asshole with him is. I already lectured Dustin for this, and now I’m lecturing you. I will not tolerate any Hellfire member to behave like this towards friends. That, that is bullshit.”

“He’s not my friend.”

“Like hell he’s not. He cares for you, he does shit for you and you not only do not thank him, you pay him by treating him like shit. He’s saved your ass several times. He pays your fucking late dues, man. Like, shit, give back the tapes on time, Christ.”

Mike was fully uncomfortable now. He crossed his arms and bit his tongue to not snap at Eddie any more.

“Look,” Eddie said, calming his tone. “I don’t know if anything happened between you two, and I don’t want to know, but he’s going through a lot lately. A lot, Mike. You don’t—Shit, you don’t have to like him. Just—just don’t treat him like this, okay? I’m serious about cutting you off Hellfire if you keep this shit.”

Eddie headed down the basement, and Mike was left uneasy.

That afternoon was by far his worst performance in D&D. He had been replaying the conversation with Eddie in his head on and off all the time, but Eddie didn’t give him shit for it, because he knew.

Eddie, an understanding DM as he was, called on a break, and Mike bolted upstairs.

He headed to Holly’s bedroom, the door wasn’t closed all the way. He stopped before coming in to put his thoughts in order and apologize properly. He heard the voices behind the door.

“Doctor Super Star, there are no more patients for you to save! You did great! You cured them all!” Steve said in a funny voice.

“But your tummy hurts!”

“My tummy hurts? Oh, no, ugh! It hurts so bad!”

Mike peeped, still hidden, observing the scene. He saw Steve doing a pretty poor performance of a faint, and he fell, belly up over the rug, amongst the plush toys scattered around. Holly, dressed as a doctor, rounded him and kneeled at his side.

“I’m going to give you an injection to save you!”

“Oh, please, Doctor Super Star, please, it hurts so bad! N-no, Holly, holly don’t lift my—”

Holly did, and Mike froze.

Both Wheelers looked at the sudden exposed skin of Steve, all covered in nasty, pink scars. Eddie’s words resonated in the back of his mind loud and clear, and he suddenly understood what Steve was going through lately. Those scars were—God, they were gruesome. That must have hurt like shit. He heard what happened, but now he was seeing it.

That could have been his sister.

Or Robin.

That could have been anyone there, but it was Steve.

Mike gulped, feeling a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach.

“It’s okay, Holly,” Steve spoke softly, but Mike could feel the nervous, vulnerable tone after his words.

Holly passed a finger ever so slightly, over one of the scars. She looked both curious and serious. Steve’s abdomen flinched a bit.

“Does it hurt?” Holly asked, softly.

Steve closed his eyes and put on a flaky smile, facing the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered. “Yeah they—they hurt sometimes.”

Steve let her wander her small hand, examining his torso.

“They’re pretty.”

A silence. A broken voice. “They’re not.”

“Yes, they are. They look like stars.”

Then, Holly, slowly, put against his stomach a bright pink toy syringe and faked an injection.

“Now you’re cured. Now it doesn’t hurt.”

Mike couldn’t see Steve’s whole face, but he saw enough before he turned away from Holly to see. His expression crumpled, and he saw Steve’s bob apple up and down a couple times. If he wasn’t crying, he was about to.

“You cured me, Doctor Super Star. Good job!”

“Wait! I’m not finished!”

Holly jolted to his drawer, where he kept all her drawing stuff. She came back with a few colored sharpies, and got back to the same position she was before. Steve observed her.

Then Holly put the sharpie nib softly against Steve’s belly, and he observed.

She drew stars over Steve’s scars.

“See? They are pretty. They’re stars.”

Steve smiled at her. She beamed.

“They are stars. They are pretty.”

After a few seconds, Steve cleared his throat and suggested Holly tidy up all around and draw for a little bit in the living room. Only then Mike reacted, and left the hallway, going back down to the basement.

By the look he gave Mike when he came back, Eddie must have noticed something weird in Mike, but didn’t say anything.

When it was time for all of them to leave (seriously, Mike had been a total disaster), Eddie hushed them all to the van. Steve was saying his goodbyes, and then Mike spoke before he left.

“Hey, Steve.”

He turned around. “Yeah?”

There was a silence, in which Mike tried to find the words. Steve waited.

“I never—I will give the tapes back on time from now on. I’m sorry for that.”

Steve was puzzled.

“Okay?”

Mike was shit apologizing. Mike was shit communicating, at best. He was shit at being vulnerable. Mike was shit at feelings.

“Yeah, and—thank you for—you know. The, um—yeah.”

Mike pursed his lips, crossed his arms. He pinned his eyes to the floor. He could feel his ears and his cheeks grow hotter and pinker.

“Yeah. No problem.”

He could feel Steve’s soft smile in his voice.

“You can go now.”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Mike,” he said. “Good night Doctor Super Star!”

Holly waved him from Karen’s arms. She even threw him a kiss. He captured it in the air and put it in his pocket.

Mike rolled his eyes.

Ugh.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fic #ficlet #mike wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #holly wheeler #fluff

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fishermanshook · 7 months ago

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NOW PLAYING…

🏹— hello hello people of Tumblr! So I’ll address this first, I’m so sorry for that long ass hiatus that came with NO warning 😭 legit feel into a depressive episode along with writers block AND a crap load of tests…I’m sorry 😣!

under the ‘keep reading’ tag is almost every single fic that has been set up and at least started. I suggest looking through especially if you’re trying to request something. there are a lot of repeats here, so don’t be surprised if you see something you’ve already seen before.

—KEY.

💔 - haven’t started yet

❤️‍🩹 - has at least been started/set up

🕸️ - half way through…

🏹 - coming very soon!

🪽- it’s out!

💌 - request

📮- a fic of my own

WIPE YOUR TEARS, DOLL 💌 🪽

ASK: Hi! I'm relatively new on here and wanted to ask for a gn reader x Naib and Ganji (separately) comforting the reader after seeing them with eye bags from excessive crying and absolutely dead inside look. My apologies if it's too much, saw that the requests are open and decided to shoot my shot🙏🏻 Thank you very much either way!

GIVING INTO CLICHÉ. 📮💔

IDV characters as romance tropes.

DATE NITE! 💌🪽

ASK: hi! i couldn't find if requests are open, sorry if they're closed rn. can i request some composer, orpheus and painter x fem/gn reader fluff?

A PUPPET TO ALL IS A PUPPET TO NONE.💌 🏹

ASK: Yan! Andrew, Matthias, and Luca with a reader that's weak and a people pleaser, please? :')

CAMERA SHUTTER. 💌❤️‍🩹

ASK: alice deross x fem reader nsfw hcs? only if ur comfortable with it 👍

ONLY YOURS. 💌❤️‍🩹

ASK: Hii! Yan!Sonetto x Reader please?

DRUNK ’N STUPID & DRUNK ‘N DUMB[ER] 📮❤️‍🩹

You’re not very good with your alcohol intake, what happens when you forget who your boyfriend/girlfriend is?

“TRUST IN ME!” 💌🪽

ASK: Hi:) if you feel like it how do you think ganji norton and naib would react to reader saying they feel safe with them?

AN ARTISTS GLORY. 💌❤️‍🩹 🏹

ASK: Could I request Edgar Valden with a Gn reader that's also an artist but wants to try to get along with Edgar because of his art?

JUSTICE. 💌🕸️

ASK: From your lovely Anon, May I ask for more yandere Joseph? This time in his judge costume? I feel like that costume would be very mean and almost sadistic. And of course some more amazing smut.

CAPTIVATED BY U! 💌🕸️

ASK: Hello cupid! This is my first time ever requesting a fic TT w TT. I would love a yan!Ganji with a smaller and more innocent reader! (I would also like to antagonize the lawyer). You can scrap this but i would like the reader to be freddy's daughter! Its ok if you make this gender neutral by the way! (and maybe if you make it a smut by the way)

UNWANTED AUDIENCE. 💌🕸️

ASK: Can I request continuation of platonic journalist with a ballet dancer reader. The thing is yandere Novelist and yandere nightmare are in love with reader.

PAPER HEARTS. 📮❤️‍🩹

Boyfriend!Novelist to Fiance!Novelist to Husband!Novelist.

IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT. 💌🕸️

ASK: HI HELLO could u maybe write something 4 ithaqua..I'm starving

note: if you do not see your request or a fic I said I was going to write then it most likely has been discontinued. I’m very sorry, thank you for the request anyways 🙏

updated: 07/07/24

#idv #idv x reader #🎥 ✮⋆˙now playing

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steddie-fanfic-recs · 5 months ago

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To Offer You a Little Relief

by IndigoFudge

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler Additional Tags: implied ronance if you squint - Freeform, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Steve Harrington's Love Language is Physical Touch, Touch-Starved Eddie Munson, Hurt Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Love Confessions, First Dates, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Steve Harrington Has a Sexuality Crisis, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Hospitals, Emotional Hurt, Comfort, Character Study, Eddie almost dies in Steve's arms, Angst with a Happy Ending, Movie Night, Cuddling & Snuggling, Forehead Kisses, Bloody Kisses, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Steve Harrington Has Nightmares, Traumatized Steve Harrington Words: 8,471 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

Eddie pitches forward a bit, head falling against Steve’s shoulder. He’s shaking again. “I’m so sorry, Stevie,” he murmurs. “I think I’m in love with you. Worst fuckin’ time, but I think I’m in love with you. How about that.” It may not hurt to breathe, but it hurts to exist. Steve wishes it was tomorrow. Steve wishes it was tomorrow and Eddie was in the hospital safe and there would be a world of time for everything. “You’re gonna laugh,” he says, even though it’s the furthest thing from funny. “I think I’m in love with you too.” • What if Dustin had gone with Lucas, Max, and Erica? What if Nancy and Robin had killed Vecna alone? What if Steve had been with Eddie? What if that had made all the difference?

#steddie #steddie fic rec #oneshot #5-10k #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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peppermintquartz · 11 days ago

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written in response to THIS POST

George Lim hates the 118.

Not, like, in a way that wishes them ill. He just wishes they were less prone to all the drama that happens. Every single possible event that could happen to a firehouse has pretty much happened to the 118.

It makes his own crazy family seem staid in comparison.

And the 118's escapades gave Lucy way too much ammo, when she already has a lot of ammo.

George can start a story about his second brother scaling the side of the Great Wall of China for a photo opportunity and she would one-up him with her second brother's 18th birthday bash at a skate park involving motherfucking Tony Hawk crashing his party.

Or that time he talked about how his mother once dropped a scalding pot of wonton soup on a Republican asshole harassing a customer in her restaurant and Lucy would have the story of how her dad shanked a would-be rapist back in the '60s.

And then when he talked about the Thanksgiving tangle torture in the 205 - electrical cord nightmare, George is still surprised no one was electrocuted that night - she had a whole slew of stories from the 118 to share.

Now, it's worse. Because Kinard is dating one of the 118.

The betrayal. George was going to lure his fourth brother Lucas (left neurology to become a speech therapist, a Go-Kart enthusiast, once broke his right leg in three places in the middle of a triathlon, a massive J-pop dork) down from Montreal and introduce him to Kinard and lock that hunk of a pilot in the Lim family, thereby guaranteeing George to have the biggest bragging rights at family dinners.

(Hell, if he himself swung that way, he would have made a move the second he knew Kinard is gay.)

But now all Kinard likes to talk about is what the 118 and more specifically what his boyfriend Evan is up to. The stupid killer bees. The goddamn plane. The tiger. And somehow boyfriend Evan has to be the one to rent the corpse of an outlaw for Halloween. What are the odds?

How is George to beat two adventurous and insane coworkers armed with stories from that cursed house on top of their own wild anecdotes?

George Lim hates the 118.

(below: George Hu as face claim for George Lim. Pretend he bleached his hair.)

#OC #tommy kinard #lucy donato #harbor station #just having fun

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ymaohoh · 6 months ago

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Jason Carver joins the good side AU

Hellcheer prompt.

(because at the end of the day Jason is a kid too)

1) Jason actually notices Chrissy is struggling with nightmares and she tells him about it. After all, Jason knows a thing or two about pressure and demanding parents, and he’s been with Chrissy long enough to guess about her shitty homelife. He’s not used to talking about feelings (coach said real men buckle up and get on with it - only girls cry) but they muddle through a heart to heart and most importantly he tries. It’s enough that she doesn’t feel quite so alone when Vecna comes calling. Between them he and Eddie manage to save Chrissy.

2) Jason struggles with The Big Reveal. When Dustin tells him about Vecna and magic and alternative worlds, Jason calls him crazy. It’s only when Chrissy insists she wants to help that he gives them a chance. He gets annoyed by Eddie and the others a lot and refuses to follow their orders (the words freak and loser echo around his head in his father’s voice - he calls Eddie a freak but Chrissy warns him to back off).

3) Annnnnnd then Patrick is murdered in front of his eyes and that’s when things really hit home for Jason. Patrick was his buddy and he’s angry (and terrified). He wants to find Vecna right now and go full Rambo but it’s Steve who manages to talk him down. Jason begrudgingly respects Steve and listens to him.

4) They prepare to take down Vecna together. Jason decides to throw himself into the effort and becomes a helpful addition to the group (he’s strong, knows how to shoot, he’s a good fighter). He tries looking out for Chrissy but realises she doesn’t need it anymore.

5) He decides to look out for the kids instead (there’s an awesome parallel here where he helps Max and Lucas instead of….you, know…messing everything up). They don't exactly trust him like they learn to trust Chrissy but Dustin labels him a 'Fighter' and 'their Tank'... whatever that means.

5) I also want a Jason and Nancy moment. Instead of the scene where he intimidates her at the gun store, he practises with her and gives her helpful tips on shooting and preparing the ammo. He's a really powerful ally during the final battle and shoots down enemies like a champ.

Readers choice if he survives or not.

(Chrissy eventually breaks up with him but he takes it OK - he sees how much she’s changed since they first began dating and understands they’ve drifted apart. They remain on friendly terms. It also helps that he knows Eddie this time round and it's obvious he would never hurt Chrissy).

#Jason would be so uncertain around Robin #and Max #jason carver #jason carver au #jason carver is nice #stranger things au #stranger things season 4 #chrissy lives #hellcheer #chrissy cunningham #eddissy #edissy #edssy #hellcheer headcanons #hellcheer fanfic

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angryschnauzer · 2 years ago

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As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 3

Summary: Finding a new life in a new town, you stumble upon a Honey farmer at the town market. You both have pasts that have shaped the way you now live your lives, but can you find a way of putting them behind you to find happiness?

Pairing: ‘Lucas’ Syverson x Female Reader

Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sandcastle (Movie).

Ongoing Genre: Fluff, Angst, and Smut

Warnings: Slight Angst, Talk of a car accident in the past, Anxious Sy, Mild Embarrassment, First Date Nerves, Kissing

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,

Wordcount: 4346

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

Chapter 3

The water levels were rising, a steady flow coming in through the door seals. With the car hanging at such a precarious angle your full weight was pulling on the seatbelt, holding you in place. Your mind was hazy, and as you reached out for him in the driver's seat he slapped your hand away;

“Don’t touch me!” he spat out, the venom in his tone one you were used to.

You shook your head, trying to stop the loud buzzing in your mind, the water continued to flow higher. The cold crept in, it was up to your knees now, the hem of your dress was dark where the river was encroaching.

The car shifted on the rocks, the icy waters surging with snow melt wanting to push you further downstream. Blue light flooded the windows. You wanted to scream but knew it would only be greeted with more venom. The car shifted again, metal on stone…

And you were awake. You were safe.

The soft light of the new day came in through the window, the light drapes softly moving in the breeze. The room was warm, but you were drenched in a cold sweat.

Pulling the twisted covers off you sat on the side of the bed, your heart racing. It had been a long time since you’d had a nightmare like that, months at least. The events of four years ago were something you’d been able to finally put behind you with the relocation to this sunny little town. You’d moved on, built a new life. Taking a deep breath you stood and stripped, heading into your bathroom and the custom steam shower you’d had installed. Turning the heat up as high as you could bear you washed away the sweat and any last lingering memories of the icy water of your dream, scrubbing yourself clean and getting ready for your day.

As the work week rolled along you were busy with deadlines, updating papers and writing new requests. Sy had been on your mind non stop after his visit at the weekend. You’d texted back and forth, and you’d been avidly watching his social media, enjoying the regular updates on his businesses’ day to day life, and the promise of dinner at the end of the week, this time his treat. You’d put the nightmare behind you and had dived head first into work, getting well ahead of schedule with your workload, so when an invite for coffee with a good friend had come through you didn’t feel the slightest hesitation to down tools and agree to meet her.

Tamara was already sitting at the open window counter when you approached the coffee shop, looking out as the warm breeze blew along the tree lined main street. Through the trees you could see the old town water tower up the small hill behind the coffee shop, the decades old wooden structure now used for little more than water for the flower filled planters that lined the streets, the town water system updated meaning the tower was no longer needed to add water pressure. It looked rickety as hell with the wood now a dull faded grey and the painted town name barely visible, but it was part of the town and seemed a fixture that would be there forever.

Waving as you entered the coffee shop you ordered your drink before joining Tam at the window, climbing onto the high bar style stool;

“Hey”

“Heyyyy” she replied, stretching her greeting out which wasn’t normal and it made you pause.

“What?”

“How was your weekend?”

Scrutinising her face you saw she had a slight look of amusement on her face;

“It was good. What… what’s going on?”

“Oh, it was only good?”

“Tam” you said, getting frustrated

“Okay okay, i drove by your place at the weekend to return those books i borrowed”

You looked at her, knowing what she was hinting at;

“And you will have seen Lucas Syverson cutting the lavender for his honey business”

“Oh” She looked a little deflated and turned back to her drink, stirring the straw to let the ice cubes clink against the glass. She took a sip as you continued;

“But he asked me out”

Tam’s drink caught in her throat as her brain processed what you said.

Tamara was one of your oldest friends. You’d bonded in high school and had ended up at the same college. After you’d graduated you’d drifted apart, she’d moved to a small town for a Veterinarian job but you’d had other reasons to stay on in your college town. After the accident she’d reached out and invited you to stay with her, giving you the chance to put thousands of miles between you and the trauma.

She’d helped you get settled, find a realtor and even signed as a guarantor on your mortgage. In the last year she’d been lightly encouraging you to consider dating, but hadn’t pushed you, so the news that you’d not only met someone by yourself but had arranged a date was the best news she’d heard in years.

Sy paced the room, glancing at the wall as he chewed on the side of his thumb. The sound of tyres on his gravel driveway drew his attention to the incoming visitor, watching as the big truck pulled up and its owner came to a halt and quick ran up the steps of the cabin, not waiting to knock and walked straight in, only pausing when he saw Sy;

“What’s wrong?! Are you ok?!”

Sy held up two shirts;

“Which one?”

Walter paused, closing his eyes and pinching the ridge of his nose;

“Excuse me?”

“Which One?” Sy repeated, holding the shirts in turn up to his neck.

“Sy… you got some explaining to do… I was busy…”

Sy took a deep breath;

“I have a date”

“A date?” Walter cautiously repeated

“And you weren’t busy, you were still trying to build that damn racoon trap”

Walter took a deep breath. He knew what his natural response would have been. His cousin calls him on a rare day off, it's something that he’s put so much thought into and still can’t come to a conclusion. So he does what he does best; problem solves.

“Where are you going for the date?”

“Antonios on Main Street”

“What date is it? First, Second, Third?”

“First”

Walter crossed the room and plucked both shirts from Sy’s grasp;

“Neither of these, you’ll look like a lumberjack” he rooted around in the closet and pulled out a dark cotton button up shirt with long sleeves.

“Walt…” Sy started

“I know, you’ll get too hot. But not if you leave a couple of buttons undone on your chest and roll your sleeves up once you’re sat in the restaurant. Girls love that shit”

Sy plucked the shirt from Walter’s hand, pulling it on and buttoning it;

“How did you suddenly turn into a chick magnet?”

Not turning to Sy, Walter started to hang the discarded shirts back in the closet;

“They dig my big magnum” as he tapped the gun hanging in its holster on his belt. Even off duty he still carried it.

Sy coughed and muttered something along the lines of ‘bullshit’ as Walter spoke;

“The girls at the Station, they talk, and they don’t know I listen. They spent 45 minutes last week instilling the virtues of a man’s hands, and how if they say ‘you’ve got nice hands’, it doesn’t just mean that you have nice hands, it means they’ve fantasised about those hands doing things - good things - to them. We had some average guy come in to install fibre optic into the bullpen to upgrade all the computers, halfway through the job he stopped and carefully rolled his shirt sleeves up. I have not seen so little work going on at any given point since they pulled an ice cream truck up outside last summer”

He turned and saw his cousin standing still, arms held out expectantly;

“What’d’ya think?”

Walter nodded;

“Looks good, but unbutton one more, girls like a bit of chest hair”

Sy did as Walter suggested, before turning to the mirror and smoothing the dark shirt over his chest;

“It looks ok? Doesn’t stick to my gut? I’ve put on a few pounds since the last time I went on a date”

Walter crossed the room and clasped a hand onto Sy’s shoulder;

“Man, you look fine. Who is the lucky lady then?”

Sy went on to explain how he’d met you, and his trip to your house with the lavender and how you already loved Akia. At the sound of her name she came trotting over and gave his hand a small lick before sitting down at his side.

Walter nodded to the furry friend;

“You want me to babysit?”

Sy looked at the big brown eyes staring up at him;

“It should be ok, I’ll only be a couple of hours”

“You’ll be longer than that if you’re going to Antonio’s. The food is good but on a Friday night they can take a while. Plus it’ll be nice if you take her around the park, the Mayor just installed a bunch of lights and it looks all pretty and shit, girls love that stuff” Walter crouched down and roughly petted Akia; “You want to come to Uncle Walters for the night girl? Want to help me chase racoons?”

The dog immediately got to her feet, wagging her tail before she ran off and came back dragging her blanket from her basket;

“I think that’s decided then” Walter smiled as Sy let out a sigh; “You’ll do great”

Holding the mascara wand you were debating whether to add another coat to your lashes when there was a knock at the door which made the decision for you. Putting it back into the tube you twisted it before placing it on the table, running to the door and opening it quickly with a smile;

“Sy!”

“Wow, you look stunning” he stepped in and pressed a small bunch of red roses into your hand, resting his hand on your hip as he gave you a kiss on your cheek.

You felt the heat rise to your face, unfamiliar with a man giving you such a compliment, stumbling a little at your words;

“Th-thanks… i’ll just go put these in some water”

A few moments later Sy was holding the door to his truck open as you climbed up, and you were somewhat regretting wearing heels and a dress as you hadn’t counted on the fact the truck was considerably taller than you were used to.

The ride into downtown was fairly quick, and the pair of you made small talk as Sy searched for a parking spot before finally finding one half a block down from the restaurant. He got out first and quickly rounded the truck, opening the door for you and offering his hand. Turning in the seat, taking Sy’s hand and resting your other hand on the door handle, and you tried as elegantly as possible to slide out of the seat until your feet could touch the asphalt below. However mid slide it became clear your plan had a flaw in it, your dress pulling up your thighs but with gravity in motion you were sliding further;

“Help!”

It took a second for Sy to realise what was happening, but he thankfully closed the gap and shielded you from the view of the sidewalk;

“What’s happened?” he asked, his body close as he did his best to avert his gaze from your now exposed thighs. You’d grasped at the hem of your dress, trying to pull it down to cover your panties.

“My dress has caught on something” you went to look over your shoulder but couldn’t turn without showing him - and everyone on the street - your ass.

“I can go around the other side and unhook you?”

As he went to step away you grabbed his arm and pulled him back;

“No! Everyone will see!”

He nodded;

“Right… you’re right…”

He moved towards you, pressing his body to yours as he looked over your shoulders at the situation;

“Hang on, i might be able to unhook it from here”

Reaching both arms around you, his body fully pressed against yours and you were caged in by his shoulders and biceps. He pushed himself a little closer, his entire body against yours, his leg between your thighs and you could feel the rough touch of the denim through the lace of your underwear. After a few moments of trying to pull the fabric loose he pulled back and gently held your shoulders;

“The fabric is pulled too tight, it needs some slack”

You could feel your bottom lip start to wobble, your throat tight. As the tears of embarrassment started to well in your eyes you nodded as you gnawed on your bottom lip. Sy rubbed his hands over your arms;

“Listen, it’s going to be ok, we’ll get this sorted… don’t cry, you’ll be alright”

There was something soothing about this calm voice, the reassurance that he could be calm even when you were bubbling on the edge of emotional mess. You took a deep breath as you were transfixed by the pale blue of his gaze, before you gave him a slight nod of your head.

“Okay… i’ve got an idea. Brace yourself”

“For wha… ohmygod!”

Without warning Sy had grasped your thighs and lifted you back onto the high seat of the truck. Pushing the door closed he trotted around to the other side before climbing up and leaning over to your seat, pushing your dress out of the way so he could get to the seatbelt clasp. After a couple of minutes of prodding and poking with a small screwdriver that had been in the centre console he let out a triumphant ‘ta-da!’, holding your dress up to show it was now free from being trapped.

“Thanks” you said quietly, calmly taking it from him and lowering it so your panties weren’t completely on display. He softly cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your lips;

“C’mon, let me buy you a drink. Do you drink?”

You nodded;

“Yes. I need that”

This time when he rounded the car and opened the door, he checked that you weren’t caught up before taking hold of your ribcage and lifting you out of the truck and setting you down onto the ground. Slipping your hand into his, he made sure you were well out of the way as he shut the door, before the pair of you strolled along the sidewalk to the restaurant.

“You just seemed so calm when i was turning to a complete mess” you commented as you sipped your wine whilst the pair of you waited for your food to arrive.

Sy smiled at you;

“Guess it was just old habits, when i was a First Responder the one thing you can’t do is panic. I could see your anxiety was rising and i took control” he sipped at the Non-alcholic beer he’d ordered; “I’m sorry for manhandling you…”

“It was fine! I kinda liked it” the words had slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them, and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks as you watched Sy quirk an eyebrow and grin at you;

“I’ll keep that in mind”

At that moment your meals arrived, and small talk continued as you ate. When the time for dessert came you barely had enough room, Sy letting you choose something for the two of you to share. When the waiter brought over the mini churros with hot honey dip Sy looked at you quizzically;

“Honey dip?”

“I was intrigued what a honey expert would think of them”

Pushing your glasses to the side, Sy unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up, seemingly unaware as you watched him do so. Picking up one of the churros he gently pulled it in half, handing you one piece before you both dipped it into the honey mixture that had small pieces of fresh chilli pepper in it;

“Cheers”

Putting it in your mouth you chewed thoughtfully on it as you let the flavours hit your tastebuds.

“Another?” Sy asked to which you nodded, watching again as he snapped a churro in two and dipped it.

“Thanks” you paused; “You have really nice hands” you complimented as you took the treat from him, the two glasses of wine you’d had making you miss the blush that extended from his beard all the way to the top of his ears.

As you finished the dessert and the meal finished, Sy asked for the check. You went to grab your purse but he held up his hand;

“No no, this is on me”

“Are you sure? At least let me get the tip”

He took a deep breath and smiled;

“Sure”

As you left the restaurant Sy held out his arm for you, watching as you hooked your own through his as he nodded to the small park at the centre of town, surrounded by stores on all sides;

“Fancy a walk to see the lights? Walt told me it looked real pretty”

“Walt?”

“Walter, my cousin. He’s the sheriff”

“Oh, Sheriff Marshall. I didn’t realise you were related”

Crossing the street Sy paused as you stepped up the kerb;

“Yeah. After i was medically retired from the Fire Dept i wanted a new start. Walt had been telling me to come out West and enjoy the quiet life. Didn’t have anything keeping me in the City so i sold up and loaded everything into a U-Haul. Took a long drive with Akia in the passenger seat. Been here just over four years now”

“How long have you been doing the honey?”

Sy picked up some small pebbles from the ground and started to skip them across the pond;

“Been tending to the bees for as long as i’ve been here, their care was part of the purchase agreement for the cabin. Was only when it came to harvest time that i suddenly ended up with 40lbs of honey that i had no idea what to do with did the business start up. My nephew helped me set up with a website and social media, he’s great with all that stuff, he’s a Junior at college now”

“Nephew, would that be Walter’s kid?”

“Yeah, Mike, he’s a cool kid. Thinks he’s god's gift to women, but then so did Walt at that age, that’s how he ended up with a kid that’s in college before he’s even 40 himself”

You laughed as you rested your arms on the railings to the pond as Sy skipped pebbles across the water;

“I cannot imagine Sheriff Marshall as a ladies man. He always says so quiet, or is grumpy as hell. I had to go into the Station to apply for some permits when i had the cottage’s bathroom upgraded and needed to get the utilities company to install a new water main, i don’t think he said more than two words to me even though he was on the front desk”

“Ah, it was probably after a late night of racoon hunting”

“Huh?”

Sy laughed;

“Walter has this racoon in his backyard. He’s been trying for years to trap it. That little bandit has outwitted our fine towns Sheriff every single time”

You joined Sy in the laughter, watching as he skipped another rock across the water, only this time it skipped into the reeds and was followed by the sound of angry quacking;

“Oops” he grabbed your hand; “C’mon, lets get out of here before we get an angry duck coming after us”

You laughed as he started to walk;

“Us? You were the one that skipped the rock”

“Yeah, but you’re an accessory to the crime, you stood by and didn’t stop me”

“Hey!” your laughter filled the space around you as you hooked your arm through his, falling into step beside him; “What did you think of that honey with dessert?”

“Honestly?” he looked at you as you walked; “You could tell it was synthetic honey, or at least a blend of mass produced honey from bees that get very little wild food”

“You should approach them”

“Who? The bees?”

“No, silly. The restaurant. See if they want to do a collaboration or something? They had a few more local suppliers mentioned on their menu since the last time i went there”

By now you were back at the truck, Sy opening the door for you;

“Do you need a boost?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth

“I’ll be fine” you replied, struggling to get your feet up onto the kick plate in your heels and your slightly drunken state.

After trying for a few seconds you felt Sy’s hands on your butt, before he gave you a push and propelled you up and into the seat of the truck;

“You were taking too long, woman” he muttered as he shut the door, grinning at you as he circled the truck and climbed in with ease. As he sat in the drivers seat he leant across the car, his hand reaching behind you and you leaned in for a kiss, pressing your lips to his. The touch was sexually charged and as he finally pulled away he had your seatbelt in his hand;

“I was just going to buckle you up but that was more than welcome”

“Oops”

Once he was buckled in himself he started the engine and pulled away, his hand resting on your leg as he drove.

The trip to your cottage didn’t take long, and as he pulled onto the gravel driveway the security light came on, illuminating the entire side of the house;

“That’s a good light you got there”

“Yeah, got them all around the house, just to be sure”

As he shut the engine off he smiled at you;

“I’ll walk you to your door”

Ever the gentleman Sy quickly rounded the truck and was at your door, this time you were prepared and had swung your legs around to face him, placing your hands on his shoulders as he lifted you out of the truck and set you on your feet. Sliding his hand into yours he turned and walked you to your door. You stood on the porch fiddling with your key;

“Would you…”

Sy looked at the door;

“I would love to come in, but i won’t”

“Oh”

“But it ain’t because i don’t want to. Hell, i want to. But you’ve had a drink, and i’ve got to work the farmers market tomorrow” He stepped closer, resting one hand on your hip as the other cupped your cheek; “But would would very much like to kiss you, properly this time”

You nodded, already leaning into his touch as his lips met yours. His hand on your hip reached around you and grasped your ass, pulling you flush with his body and made you gasp, giving Sy the chance to deepen the kiss. And god damn it that man could kiss. His tongue danced against your own, his hands pulling your body against his as you both swayed, before he turned you and pressed you against the side of your porch. The movement had cause you to straddle one of Sy’s thighs, his hand pulling your leg up around his hip as he wedged his thigh between your legs, the thick muscle flexing against your core.

When you finally had to break the kiss for air you both were breathless, your chests heaving. He rested his forehead against yours;

“I’ve got to go”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Before i end up staying”

“Okay”

He pressed one last kiss to your lips before he stepped back, you couldn’t help but to glance down and notice the sizeable bulge now pushing at his dark jeans. You tried to hide your smile as you turned to unlock your door, hoping he didn’t spot you looking.

As you held the screen door open you turned to him, smiling as you saw him reach out to hold the door as you unlocked the inner door;

“Can I make you dinner Sunday night?” he asked

“Sure, i’d like that”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you watched as he walked back to his truck. You waved as he pulled out of the driveway before you stepped inside, locking the door behind you.

Setting your bag and keys down onto the kitchen table you let out a deep sigh;

“I need a cat or something I can tell about my date” you mused to yourself as you ran a glass of water. Just then your phone chimed, and as you checked the screen you smiled;

“Even better”

Dialling the number you kicked your heels off and sat on the couch;

“Hey Tam, you will not believe how my date went…”

Sy twisted the cap off the beer bottle, taking a drink as he held the phone between his ear and his shoulder;

“Why are you calling me? Shouldn’t you be ‘busy’?” Walter’s voice was kind as he spoke

“I’m not gonna fuck her on the first date. Plus she’d had a drink, and i got market tomorrow”

“But it went ok? Are you seeing her again?”

“Sure am. Gonna cook her dinner Sunday night”

“Nice. Hey, shall I drop Akia for you tomorrow at the market or at your place?”

“I’ll be at the market from 7am so unless you want a real early start, the market’s fine”

“Sure thing buddy. I’m glad it went well”

“Thanks Walt. Oh hey, guess what she said?”

“Go on”

“She likes my hands”

He could hear Walter sigh;

“I should never have told you that”

“And she kisses real good too”

“You know what, save it Mr Loverboy. I’ll see you tomorrow morning”

Chapter 4 >>>

#as sweet as honey #captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #sy x reader #henry cavill

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