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forever-rogue · 2 years ago

Note

Not kissing steve because Mike made a comment about how too much pda is gross and the poor guy is so confused and lost and desperate to kiss you and he asks you sadly whats wrong and tries to fix it. (With lots of make up kisses and steve not caring what Mike says)

AN | No, but I love this idea, especially Mike being a lil shit 🥺

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve Harrington was an affectionate person. He always and more than likely always would be. It was one of the many things that you loved about him; he wasn’t afraid to be outwardly touchy and feely and never missed an opportunity to kiss or hug you, to hold your hand, or just be near you. And you would never, ever, turn down anything from him, even if it was just a simple in passing.

You never thought much about it, letting it just happen. You were sure that his affections were nothing out of hand but that all changed one afternoon, thanks to Mike Wheeler. The lot of you were at the fair, currently standing in line for some random fried food stand. Steve was standing behind you, an arm wrapped around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder. You loved the feeling of him being all over you especially as he pressed lazy kisses to your warm, sunkissed skin.

It wasn’t until you were next in line that Steve let go of you, turning to order for both of you. Mike scoffed and shook his head. You looked at him, raising an eyebrow, “what’s wrong, Mike?”

“You guys are so gross,” he groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically, “you’re always all over each other, just calm down. We get it. You’re madly in love with each other, great, fantastic.”

“Mike,” Dustin smacked his friend, as Max and Lucas were completely oblivious, “maybe you should calm down. Don’t be so jealous. Get over it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mike flipped him off, “I forgot - if Suzy was here, the two of you would be equally disgusting.”

“Maybe you should stop being such a jerk-”

“Boys,” you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head at the kids, “maybe we can all stop being so…over dramatic? It’s all good, okay? We’ll try and tone it down and Mike, you can get the stick out of your ass.”

Mike scowled deeply and Dustin brought into a fit of giggles. He might have called you out, but you had to get him back.

But - it was a promise that you intended to keep, but it still managed to bring a small pout to your lips as you looked over at Steve. Ugh. He was so ridiculously handsome, but so easy and effortless and it made your heart swoon. He turned back to you, arms filled with fried goodness and a big smile on his face. You walked over to him, taking a few things in order to free up his hands.

“Looks disgustingly delicious,” you grinned, “good choices, love.”

Steve nodded happily before leaning over to try and press a kiss to your cheek. You turned your head and quickly dodged the kiss, not saying anything but leaving him with a confused little look on his face, “angel-”

“Come on,” you looped your arm through his and started to lead him to one of the nearby picnic tables. You decided not to mention anything of what Mike had said to Steve, figuring that it would work itself out. Maybe if you toned it down for a few weeks he would eventually take the hint and stop being so outwardly PDA-friendly.

Steve, meanwhile, was trying not to read into anything, more so trying not to freak out at the fact that you had rebuked his kiss. It was the first time you had ever turned down a kiss. But he was sure that it was not something that would keep happening. Right? Right. You were his girl, his honey, his baby, his angel, and you’d never stop loving him. Or so he hoped. Maybe you - no. He was not going to panic or worry too much - it was just one kiss. It would all be fine.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But…it turned out to be more than just one little time.

You’d started to pull more and more out of being physically affectionate with him. At least in public - behind closed doors things were the same as ever. If anything, you were almost more touchy and lovely when it was just the two of you. It just confused Steve. He was used to being so open with you all the time.

“Hey honey,” Steve’s face lit up as soon as he spotted you walking into his backyard. You looked more gorgeous than anyone should have been allowed to, and caused some sinful thoughts to run through his head. He had to take a moment to compose himself, trying hard not to…well, get hard. You were wearing a cute little pink polka dot two piece, and he couldn’t wait to be alone and rip it off you. The little bow holding it together in the front of your cleavage was practically taunting him; you were like a present waiting to be unwrapped, “you look gorgeous.”

“Hi Stevie,” you smiled softly at your boyfriend, admiring him in his trunks, so much of his warm, golden skin on display. You loved all of his freckles and couldn’t wait to map them all out later with your mouth, “you look good too, handsome.”

He practically melted under your praise as you reached over and took it hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You were fashionably late - you could thank your coworkers for that - and the last one there. But you were happy to see your friends. You knew that Steve was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to kiss him, or letting yourself be kissed by him. If he hadn’t been so attuned to you, or paid as close attention as he did, he would have missed the way you looked around nervously.

“Everything alright?” there was a note of concern in his voice as you looked back at him and shook your head, “you seem…”

Off. Different. Not wanting to touch me.

“‘m alright,” you promised and for the briefest of seconds, you reached up and touched his cheek, “do you need a hand with the food or anything?”

“No,” he shook his head lightly, disappointed but also not pushing the fact that you didn’t kiss him, “I’ve got it. Just relax and enjoy yourself, angel. Y-you’re still planning on staying tonight, right?”

“Of course,” you insisted happily, “wouldn’t miss a night with you, my love.”

“Good,” he nodded, almost more to himself than anything. He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, “I’m glad. I love it when you’re here. I love spending any time with you.”

“Me too,” you smiled sweetly. You grinned when you saw Robin and Nancy excitedly waving you over. You gave Steve a small shrug as if to say what can you do before heading over to him. He’d half expected a kiss but there was no such luck.

A deep, pretty little pout settled on his features as he watched you go. It was not lost on Eddie, who definitely teased him about him for the rest of the afternoon. All he wanted was a little kiss. Was that too much to ask for?!

-─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And so it continued on, and it almost became normal that you weren’t going to let him be any sort of physically affectionate with you. It was slowly starting to wear on him; he loved you, adored you behind words, but he really just wanted to touch you. It wasn’t even anything inherently sexual, it was the sheer intimacy of being close to you and getting to feel the gentle delicateness of your soft skin on his, or to be blessed with the grace of your lips.

But now, as the gang hung out at Phyllis’ diner, taking up two booths between you guys and the younger kids. You were next to Steve, as per usual….but you were sitting next to him as one would sit next to a friend, not a lover. You were normally tucked up into his side, thigh pressed against his, hands entwined or your head on his shoulder as you stole sweet, syrupy kisses from each other.

This evening, however, you simply sat next to him, keeping a little bit of distance between your bodies. He didn’t even try to argue or even mention it, instead taking it for what it was. You were spending the night at his place, as you did weekends, and he decided that he was going to ask you about what - or hadn’t - been going on lately. He was your boyfriend, your partner, you should have been able to tell him anything. And clearly right now, there was something going on. Steve was determined to get to the root of it…if nothing else, he wanted to make sure that you were okay.

-─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Stevie,” you sighed his name softly as you flopped onto his warm, comfy bed. There was a big smile on your face as you stretched out and burrowed your face into his pillow, “this might be my favorite spot in the entire world.”

“You look like you belong there,” he agreed softly as he sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching over and gently tugging on the hem of your dress. You often wore sweet little dresses, and they always managed to drive him crazy. It was something so simple but so innocently sinful, “you do belong there.”

“That’s because I belong to you,” you reached for his hand and gently tugged him towards you. He obliged your silent request, not wasting a moment before crawling next to you, laying down, his head just across the pillow from yours. You couldn’t help but reach over, touching his freckles with the tips of your fingers, “I love you, Steve Harrington.”

His entire being softened, big brown eyes gentle as he watched you. He swallowed thickly before taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. He listened to the way you softly inhaled at the feeling of his lips on your skin. A quiet fell over the two of you, as he ghosted his fingers along your features.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything,” you giggled lightly, “you’re the only one that gets to ask me anything, my love. What can I do for you?”

“Are we…are we okay?” he whispered so softly that you almost didn’t hear him. A frown tugged down the corners of your mouth as you tried to figure out where he could have gotten the slightest inkling that things weren’t okay.

“Of course we are,” you insisted, nodding your head fervently, “where did you get the idea that we weren’t?”

“I just…things have been different,” he pointed out and Steve could tell by the way your face fell that you knew exactly what he was talking about. You swallowed thickly but shook your head, “you can tell me anything. You know that - anything.”

“Nothing is…” you stopped yourself, unable to lie to him. You shifted so you were sitting up and Steve mirrored your gesture and sat there facing you. You sighed before hanging your head, “it….it was Mike.”

“Mike?” he repeated in shock as you simply nodded at him, “what the hell did he do?”

“Nothing bad,” you put your hand on his arm and shook your head, trying to dispel any negative thoughts, “back at the fair, he made a few comments about PDA and basically…us. Us being too touchy and feely and open in public. He thought it was gross and I…I dunno it just kind of stuck with me.”

“That’s what…” he couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up as he shook his head, somewhere between amusement and annoyance, “you’ve avoided kissing me or letting me touch you in public because of the kid?!”

“When you say it like that…” you met his eye and couldn’t help but laugh too. It hadn’t seemed so irrational and weird at the time. Now it really seemed silly, “it didn’t seem bad at the time!”

“Baby, you’ve been practically killing me,” your boyfriend groaned playfully as you just shrugged sheepishly, “you wouldn’t even let me hold your hand! You denied me my kisses! I thought I might die.”

“Stevie,” you were both laughing now. His large hands found purchase on your waist as he pulled you into his lap. You made a small sound that went straight to his heart as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “you’re so dramatic!”

“Baby, baby, baby,” he pressed his forehead against yours, “tell me it wasn’t hard to keep your hands off me.”

You couldn’t even lie or argue, instead giving in by softly pressing your lips against his. He practically sighed into your touch as he melted, kissing you just as softly and reverently. You pulled back, gently carding a hand through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, “it was hard for me too.”

“Then let’s stop,” he suggested coquettishly, “and never not touch each other again. Whaddaya say, angel?”

“Yes,” you laid back against his pillow and pulled him on top of you, “and now, my love, please, please, please touch me. All over, as much as you want, but don’t ever stop.”

“I can do that,” he was practically melting as you stole some soft kisses from him, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, Steve,” you grinned, “now please touch me!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were the last to arrive at the game at the Wheelers’ house, having no one to blame but yourself. You’d taken too long getting ready, and lost track of time. But you looked very pretty, thank you very much, so it was all worth it. You let yourself into the Wheeler home, hearing the excited chatter and laughter from your friends.

“Hello!” you greeted excitedly as you walked inside, met with happy waves…and then almost tackled by your overly enthusiastic boyfriend. He wrapped you up in a tight hug, twirling you around before kissing you softly. You beamed at the boy, wondering why on earth you’d ever willingly rejected this display of affection before.

“My angel,” he whispered against your lips, so soft and gentle, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you promised, “and it’s only been like…twelve hours.”

“Doesn’t matter,” his hand found the side of your neck, his thumb gently brushing along your soft skin, “I’d miss you even if it was only an hour.”

“Ugh, stop being so perfect,” you playfully groaned. But you meant it - Steve really was a wonderful man, golden hearted and loving and you couldn’t imagine life without him, “if I loved you anymore, I’d probably explode from love and happiness and sweetness.”

“It’s just because I love you,” he pecked your lips before you both heard a loud throat clear from the living room. You pulled apart and turned to find Mike Wheeler standing there and looking between the two of you. He shook his head, but you could see that a small smile was playing on his features.

“If you lovebirds are done, we’re about to start monopoly!” he motioned with his head for the two of you to join the rest of them. He paused for a moment, “it’s still disgusting! But it’s kind of cute how in love the two of you are.”

And with that, the boy turned around to join the others as you laughed quietly. Steve’s cheeks were a pretty pastel pink as he cleared his throat, “you’re in love with me, huh?”

“Duh, Stevie,” you grinned, “are you in love with me?”

“Duh,” he teased softly as he took your hand in his and you were practically glowing, “more than you’ll ever know, angel.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #joe keery #joe keery x you #joe keery x reader #st

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year ago

Note

headcanon- steve secretly being insanely good at something, maybe chess or something similarly associated with intelligence. when everyone finds out they are surprised and doubtful leading steve to have the realization "oh. you guys genuinely think I'm stupid."

Steve loved seeing how things worked, he had since he was too young to actually figure things out by himself.

He got caught pulling apart his dad’s office calculator when he was nine, insisted he could put it back together, and did.

It took him a week, but he did it.

Then it was the house phone.

Then his desk lamp.

The toaster.

He always got them back together and working, but his parents weren’t very pleased if they caught him in the process.

Still, he loved the feeling of understanding how certain wires connecting meant something would light up or how one color wire would make something produce a number and another would produce power.

He continued doing it with random objects for years.

The concussions made it harder, his vision going blurry if he focused a little too long on a small part of the technology, his frustration making it even worse.

When Eddie found out, he gave him an old amp that wasn’t working anymore, said it probably would never work again but he could take a look inside.

Steve got it working in two days.

Wayne gave him their VHS player when it stopped rewinding, didn’t want to have to buy a new one even if they did have the money for it now. He had it fixed in four hours.

The oven in the new Munson home randomly stopped working, so of course Steve was called.

He came during Hellfire, ignoring the strange looks as he waved and made his way straight to kitchen.

He got to work, humming to himself as he made sure electricity was cut off from it, that there was no gas hookup anywhere, and pulled it from the wall.

The wiring inside was relatively straightforward, and he saw the problem almost immediately.

A loose wire connecting from the heat source to the controls. Easy fusing. Done.

He tested to make sure it was fixed, and ten minutes later, he was calling Wayne at work on the house phone to let him know it was fixed.

When he turned around, Dustin and Lucas were standing in the doorway, mouths open.

“You’ll catch flies like that. You know Eddie leaves the windows open all the time.”

“You fixed the oven?”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“By yourself? Like the inside of it?”

“Yeah?”

“How? That’s so many wires and stuff.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“That’s like, electrical engineering shit.”

Steve realized what was happening just as everyone else walked into the kitchen.

“Oh. You guys don’t think I’m smart enough.”

He felt like he hit a brick wall.

“What’s going on?” Eddie came to stand next to Steve, arm wrapping around his waist.

“We didn’t know Steve was smart.”

The words were unintentionally harsh, but Steve and Eddie flinched anyway.

“Steve’s incredibly smart. He fixes all kinds of things.”

“Eds, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. They know better than to make assumptions about someone based on grades in school or how they understand certain things.”

Steve shrunk into Eddie’s side, doing his best to hide his face while he held back tears.

“You can all apologize or you can leave.”

There was silence for a moment and Steve was almost convinced that they’d all left.

He turned his head to see everyone staring at him.

“We’re sorry, Steve. Really. Eddie’s right. We shouldn’t have assumed you weren’t super smart just because you didn’t do well in school or don’t understand us when we ramble.”

Will was always a good kid, maybe his favorite at the moment.

“‘S okay guys.”

Eddie’s fingers tightened on his waist for a moment.

“So do you fix all kinds of stuff or just appliances?”

“I like to take stuff apart and put it back together. Sometimes I just end up fixing something along the way.”

“So you could look at my walkie?” Max piped up. “It keeps going to static in the middle of me talking.”

“Sure. Probably just a disconnected wire between the speaker and the button.”

Max beamed back at him, not just happy he would try to fix it, but proud.

Everyone started asking if he could fix things they had, surprised when he agreed to it all.

They filtered back out to the dining room area where they played, except for Dustin.

“What’s up?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you’re stupid or anything. I know you’re not stupid. I was just surprised. I shouldn’t have been; you’re always finding the crossed wires with us and fixing those.”

Steve pulled him into a hug.

“People aren’t nearly as easy as electronics, dude.”

“Yeah, but you make it look that way.”

Steve quickly became the group’s engineer, always fixing what was broken, whether it was a flashlight or a bad day. He was pretty good at putting things and people back together.

#steve harrington #the party #steddie #eddie munson #headcanon

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rottenaero · 2 years ago

Text

AO3

Part 1

Part 4

Part 6

Part 5 of the roommates idea

Okay okay, so before this starts, a lot of people have mentioned me posting this on ao3, and my question is if you guys mean it as it is, or if I should make two or three new parts to make up for the first part.

Because in the first part, we miss a lot of possible moments between Steve and Eddie since it skips to the basic idea.

This whole thing was meant to be a messy and quick way to get my ideas out, but then people ended up actually liking it, and well, I just want you guys to like the outcome.

Basically, I wanna know if I should;

A.Post it on ao3 as is

B. Post it on ao3 with two to maybe four parts instead of the original post, and have me do part six after I make those. (I'm a decently quick writer when I'm motivated, all these parts so far have been within a day or two)

C. Make the parts instead of the original post, and have this be a big one-shot on ao3(meaning it wouldn't be posted on there until this is finished)

I am really leaning towards B, just cause I wanna do those interactions (one of which would be Eddie coming out to Steve), but I wanna see what you guys think first.

This whole thing is kinda a wreck cause I don't usually post fics on Tumblr but hopefully it will get better with time.

After Dustin explains the upside down, and Eddie talks about what really happened, they come to a sort of agreement.

Eddie was to stay at the boathouse, and someone would occasionally come over with a supply of drinks and food.

Steve, of course, despised this, because Eddie is his best friend-(And who was he kidding? Goddamn crush, too)-dammit, but he let the plan go on anyway.

Before they left, Steve turned to Eddie, brows pinched together.

“Stay safe, alright? If you get hurt because you do something stupid, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

Eddie laughed, loud and full, “Kinda counterproductive, aye sweetheart?”

He stopped when Steve didn’t laugh or make a joke back. “I’ll be fine, and I’ll walkie if things go to shit.”

“Good.” Steve gave him a little peck on the corner of his lips, “Don’t die, man. Can’t take care of these little shits by myself.”

He turned to face Max, and a gaping Dustin and Robin.

“Lets go, nerds”

Steve stared at the ground, unblinking.

One of his kids were gonna die.

Eddie had had apparently left the boathouse

Eddie was being hunted.

Two more students have been murdered.

He licked his lips, and his eyes flicked up to watch Powell talk about the town hall meeting.

They were royally fucked.

“Dustin, can you hear me? Wheeler? Stevie?”

Steve’s eyes widened and he turned around in time to see Dustin snatch the walkie.

“Eddie, holy shit. Are you okay?”

The walkie took a second to crackle back to life.

“Nah man, pretty uh, pretty goddamn far from okay.”

“Where is he?”Nancy asked, already halfway back into the car.

“Where are you?”

“Skull Rock, Steve knows it.”

Steve smiled, grabbing the walkie and clicking down on the button, “Hold on tight, Ed-stefer, we’re on our way.” He tossed it back to Dustin before turning to Nancy.

“I’m driving.”

She scrunched her nose, but didn’t question it and swapped to the passenger's side.

“Dude, I’m telling you, you’re leading us the wrong way.”

“It’s North, I’m positive! I checked the map.”

Steve sighed and pinched his nose, “This is literally Eddie and I’s spot, we come here all the time.”

“That doesn’t have to do with it being a make-out spot, does it?” Lucas asked hesitantly from his spot in the back.

“Jesus, no Sinclair, this does not have to do with- Eddie and I are just friends.”

Robin scoffed, “Didn’t you kiss him earlier?” She asked.

“As friends. He doesn’t like me like that.”

“Right, but you like him like that, though?”

“Oh wow, suddenly we’re here, y’know, at the place you said we weren’t gonna end up at?” Steve yelped, gesturing broadly at the rocks around him.

Lucas has to physically bite his lip to keep from mentioning that he had absolutely picked that up from Eddie, or that Eddie had picked it up from him.

“See? You little butthead, I was right.”

Theres a rustle of leaves and then,

“I concur, you, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.”

Steve turned to face the man and almost collapsed in relief, hes not hurt.

“Jesus Eddie, we thought you were a goner.” Dustin sighed, as he made his way past Steve to hug Eddie.

“Yeah, me too man. Me too.”

The hug goes on for maybe ten seconds before Eddie’s pulling back and bringing Steve into a side one, you know, like some kind of dad. “I tried calling you guys, but uh…”

His face turned sheepish and he stepped back a bit to grab some water from a canister. “My walkie was busted, man.”

“Drenched.” He adds in after a second, laughing a bit.

He took another sip from the bottle before wiping and extra drops away from his mouth. “So, uh, I did the thing that I do now apparently. I ran.” He let out another laugh, this one was a little bit more self-deprecating.

“Do you know what time this was? The attack.”

Eddie perked up, and grabbed at his wrist, “ Yeah, no, I um, know exactly what time it was.”

He held up a watch, the dials on it weren’t moving. “My walkie wasn’t the only thing that got soaked.”

“9:27…”

“Same times our flashlights went kablooey.” Robin says, and her eyes light up like she connected the dots.

Steve hadn’t, “Which means what exactly?”

“That that surge of energy was Vecna attacking Patrick.”

Steve half-zoned out, silently going through the events in his head, while maintaining conversation.

“Skull Rock was North.”

“An electromagnetic field.”

“What say you, Eddie the Banished?”

Steve tuned back in, a hundred percent now. He turned to look at Eddie, who was still crouching, and damn how did his back not hurt?

“I say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor,” Steve perked up, he kind of knew this one, “-which, if I’m totally straight with you, I think it’s a really bad idea.”

And Steve nodded along, because yeah, this was a terrible idea.

“But uh, the Shire, the Shire is burning, so Mordor it is.”

He whistled at Eddie when everyone got up, and he was by Steve’s side in seconds.

“You’re not hurt or anything, are you? Cause you don’t look it but…”He trailed off, and Eddie grinned.

“I am all-good Steve-O.” Steve nodded, “Good, good.”

Suddenly, there was a sharp gasp from right next to him, “Were you, perhaps, worried?!” Steve kicked a rock instead of answering.

It just made Eddie’s grin widen further.

“You totally were! Stevie Harrington, The-Former-King-Of-Hawkins turned sweetheart, worrying over lil-ol-Eddie-The-Freak-Munson!”

Steve scoffed, “ First off, I’d like to think I’ve always been a sweetheart, second off, keep it in your pants, dude.”

Eddie cackled, leaning into his side, “Yeah, yeah! You’re right. You’ve kinda been like that for the past two years, Mr.Eddie-Cant-Carry-A-Fucking-Hot-Pan-Anymore.” He laughed, ignoring the second part of Steve’s statement.

He huffed, “Just don’t want you getting hurt.”

Eddie booped his nose, “Yeah yeah, you’re just you like that.”

Tag List

@bxlthazar@i-have-three-feelings@leverage-ot3@mightbeasleep@badcaseofcasey@joruni@original-cypher@aceflavouredyougurt@flustratedcas@lovelylilbadone@labels-are-for-the-weak@steddieassheg0es@gregre369

#steve being “just you like that” is him being a tiny bit afraid eddie will fuck up and burn himself #hes just self-sacrificial like that #stranger things ficlet #steddie ficlet #steddie #ficlet #stranger things #steve x eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #and they were roommates #oh my god they were roommates #crisisinverted17 #crisisinverted17's roommate au

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morganski-19 · 7 months ago

Text

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 8

part 1, prev part

The hallway is empty when Dustin leaves the room. Steve and Lucas nowhere to be seen, Mrs. Mayfield gone somewhere else. Leaving Dustin alone to wander.

He doesn’t quite know what he wants. Where he’s going. Just following the path he would normally travel each day. Bouncing between rooms, looking for something to do. Trying to find someone who would talk to him. Give him something to take his mind off the train tracks it’s bound to.

He grips the book in his hand, feeling the familiarity of wore out pages. Each one loved as he read and reread them over and over again. That’s what he does when he needs comfort. Goes back to the same story over and over again, to a world where he knows every outcome. Where there are no more mysteries. Dustin knows the answer to every question, every possibility.

It’s why he chose it to read to Eddie. It was a book the both of them loved, brought them joy in the darkness of life. He wanted Eddie to feel safe while his body was asleep. Knowing that some coma patients can hear what’s going around them. Even if it doesn’t register, it brings comfort on a subconscious level that there are people here supporting him.

At least that’s what Dustin hoped would happen, what he was striving to do. But he can’t do that today. There’s someone outside telling him that he can’t be in Eddie’s room right now. That something’s going on inside.

He goes right to thinking of the worst. That they are preparing him for some surgery that will probably delay the day he wakes up. Take more time from Dustin. Or maybe Eddie is dead behind those walls. Body finally succumbing to his wounds. His brain activity finally faded away. Leaving Dustin with the misplaced hope that it would all be ok.

He continues to wander into the waiting area. Seeing a familiar face getting a cup of shitty hospital coffee. Dustin must look confused, as Wayne’s face immediately looks concerned when he sees him.

“You alright kid,” he asks, stirring his coffee.

Dustin blinks. “They wouldn’t let me go into Eddie’s room.”

“Yeah, they’re working on him right now. Taking out his breathing tube.”

Panic fills Dustin, the only reaction he’s capable of right now. “Is he ok. That’s a good thing right?”

Wayne sets a steady hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “Yes, that’s a good thing. Why don’t you go sit down, you seem like somethin’s upsetting you.”

Dustin lets Wayne lead him to an empty chair, taking the one beside him. Quiet, letting Dustin be the one to start talking about it. He doesn’t really know how to. Wayne’s been through enough already, he doesn’t need to go through his things too.

Now that he has things to go through.

This was so much easier when things worked out for him. When Will was found and ok. When all his friends made it out of the tunnels underground. When it wasn’t him who lost people, but he could be there to help the ones who did.

He's seen so many people go through the hospital. They always got better in the end, that was good. Why is it so hard during the wait for them to get better? Why does the hope leave him more and more each day? He was the happy one, the one with all the jokes. Helping everyone else out, making sure they smiled.

Who’s going to cheer them up now that the smile can’t seem to return to his face?

“Do you remember Max Mayfield? she lived across from you and Eddie in the trailer park.” Dustin says when the words finally form in his mouth.

Wayne nods. “I do. She a good friend of yours?”

“Yeah,” Dustin plays with the bent cover of his book. “Yeah, she is, one of my best friends. We’ve known her ever since she moved to town back in middle school. She's in a room down the hall from Eddie.”

Wayne looks at Dustin like he understands where this is going. Maybe he does. Or maybe he’s just used to the hospital life after all this time. “Figured, saw her mom here a few times. She doin’ ok?”

Ok isn’t the right word, but Dustin can’t speak for how she feels. He can only speak for himself. And he is definitely not ok. “She’s blind.”

The words feel more crushing now that they’re said out loud.

A sob escapes from Dustin’s chest. The crushing feeling he’s had for weeks finally breaking free. Everything coming out at once in this hospital waiting room. His face falls into his hands, palms pressing into his eyes. Trying to keep the tears inside.

A hand pats his back, comforting him while he breaks. Helping him through this pain. Someone he barely knows but feels so safe around. Silently telling him that everything will be ok. That he will be ok.

Someone else comes and crouches in front of Dustin, placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, what happened?”

Dustin blinks the tears away enough to see Steve looking at him. “What do you think?”

He nods. “Why don’t I take you home, it’s already been a lot today.”

“What, no, I didn’t get to visit Eddie yet today. I have to read him the next chapter.” Dustin pulls himself to sit straighter, making himself look more put together. Tears still running down his cheeks.

“I think Eddie would understand if you missed a day. He would want you to take care of yourself.”

“He’s right,” Wayne agrees. Gently glaring at Steve, but still agreeing. “He wouldn’t want you to strain yourself for his sake.”

Why does everyone keep making decision for Dustin’s benefit? Do they even know what they’re talking about?

Still, Dustin lets Steve bring him home. His mind still stuck in that waiting room with the world falling down around him. Looking through the window doing nothing but add to his feeling. The peaceful outside now rampant with destruction.

The town was broken into pieces. People moved around between the shelters and the hospitals. Some even brought outside of the town to different hospitals in the area. It finally hits Dustin how much of this actually concerns him. How much it always concerned him.

How that kid he used to be kept smiling, he doesn’t quite know anymore. How he was still able to smile a week ago, he doesn’t know. With all that’s happened, with all his friends are going through, he thought he needed to bring levity to it all. Bring the hope that things could get better.

Hope is a dangerous thing. It makes people believe in something that might not happen. Makes him believe that the scars will fade, and the injuries will heal. That his friends will be exactly the same as he knew them last week. A year ago. Two years ago. When they first met.

He’s not even the same as he was a week, a year, two years ago. Somehow, foolishly he thought that life could move on from this. That the upside down would become nothing but a pin in the greater picture of his life. That down the line, when he’s married and maybe has a kid or two of his own, he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.

Now, it’s become more real than he’s ever thought of before. Now, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to sleep the same again. The nightmares won’t leave with age. His friends will never become less scarred. His mind won’t be as scarred. His childhood will never be just his childhood. A part of it will always be captured by these memories. Memories that he can hope to only repress.

Dustin will have the privilege to walk away after all of these years without as little of a scar. He has what, a sprained ankle, and that’s it. Max is blind, Will’s lungs are damaged from extended time in the upside down. Lucas, Erica, and Mike are completely traumatized by what they’ve seen. By what they’ve been through.

Dustin is traumatized by what he’s seen. By what he’s been through. He’s always said that his was so much better than everyone else’s. That he was the least effected, so it was ok to diminish it.

He’s now realizing how stupid it was to think like that.

next part

Note: Back to the Wayne POV in the next part. All of Dustin's POV will also be uploaded to ao3

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #dustin pov #dustin henderson #wayne munson #steve harrington #mentioned max mayfield #mentioned eddie munson #hospitals #diagnosis #pre steddie #everyone lives/nobody dies

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peppermintquartz · 8 days ago

Text

The views in Sydney would be great if it would just stop fucking raining.

Seriously annoyed, Rocker strides back to the lobby. He nods at a handful of Aussie cops from the Tactical Operations Unit (TOU) that led the seminar today and spies Deacon scrolling through his phone.

"Deac, hey. It's still pissing out there and I'm already starving," Rocker tells him.

Deacon sighs. "Room service?"

"Can we charge it to LAPD?"

"They already cut costs with us sharing a hotel room," Deacon says, smiling, "so they better cough up the money for a proper meal."

There are other officers from the States, but Rocker isn't all that into socializing at the moment. He is still jetlagged to hell after four days of workshops, presentations and demonstrations. Tomorrow is the last day, full of speeches and thank yous, and Rocker is bored just thinking about it.

At least it's Deacon out here with him. Hondo can be preachy and that gets on Rocker's nerves, while Luca is a horrible person to share a room with. Tan, Rocker's first choice, is currently preparing to take the sergeant's exam.

And back home, what does Rocker have to look forward to outside of work? His apartment, his painting, and his Russian literature. God, life as a divorced man is depressing.

Deacon is someone Rocker wants to become: steady, calming, assured. Sure he has his flaws, but Deacon doesn't try to talk down to Rocker even if he has every right to do so.

Besides, Rocker knows that he's 50-David only because Deacon dropped out of consideration, and ever since then, Rocker has actively sought out Deacon's advice whenever he can. It's created a strong bond between them, the two former 2ICs to a couple of SWAT legends. He doesn't like having to follow Hondo's orders sometimes, but Deacon? He'll follow Deacon right into hell if Deacon asks him to.

Rocker doesn't want to think about what that says about him.

---

They had dinner at the tiny table in the room, and then they open up the bottle of wine they were given by one of the sergeants here as a welcome gift.

"I'm just saying, if they make me ride that horse again..." Rocker says, about three-quarters through the bottle, while Deacon laughs at the memory of the Mounted Police picking Rocker to try a couple of horseback riding maneuvers. Despite Rocker's best attempts, the horse just did not have any respect for him.

"Oh, you didn't have any dreams of being a cowboy?" Deacon teases.

Rocker scrunches his nose. "I'm a city boy through and through. Sure, kid me wanted to ride a bucking bronco, but I'm not four years old anymore."

The image of Rocker riding one of those mechanical bulls flashes into Deacon's mind. And he keeps his mind there for a moment.

"You'll look good doing it," he says at last.

"That's because I make everything look pretty," Rocker says, grinning, his cheeks pink from the wine. Deacon can't disagree; Rocker is stupidly attractive with his dark brown curls and strong features and that buff body. Unaware of Deacon's train of thought, Rocker sighs. "I like getting out of LA for these sort of trips, but the jetlag sucks."

Deacon agrees. "I'd like it more if we could go around the city or maybe venture out further. Seems such a waste being stuck indoors." He thinks about it. "No, I take that back. Running around the city means I'm actually on a case."

"Ha, I heard about Thailand. You guys have the worst luck."

"It's all Hondo, I swear."

Rocker raises an eyebrow. "But you're loyal to him."

"I'm loyal to my team," Deacon corrects. "No matter who leads it."

"Even if it's me?"

Deacon narrows his eyes. "Are you trying to poach me over to 50-squad?"

"Stevens would kill me if I swapped him out for you," Rocker says, and then he sighs. "I like working with you though. You're so... graceful. Contained."

"You're not too bad yourself," says Deacon. He reaches over and squeezes Rocker's biceps. "I mean, all that beef on you. And you're very easy on the eyes. Plus, don't tell anyone I said so, but I like when you smile so wide your whole face scrunches up."

"Really?" Rocker asks, smiling in that exact way now, as if he's been given a gift he wanted all year.

Deacon doesn't remove his hand. He likes the way his tanned skin contrasts against Rocker's paler complexion. As if looking through a screen, he sees his thumb rubbing over the patch of skin, and Rocker's muscle jumps under the caress.

"Deac?"

"Sorry," he murmurs, about to draw back his hand when he looks at Rocker again. And he stops moving. Stops breathing.

The downpour outside becomes louder. The heavens seem to want to drown out everything other than this room, render the passage of time meaningless.

Rocker swallows and licks his lips. Deacon's gaze snaps to the tip of the pink tongue peeking out, and everything in him screams for him to taste it.

The next thing he knows, he's got one hand in the back of Rocker's head, his fingers digging into short hair, and his mouth is locked over the other man's lips.

Rocker doesn't even resist, tilting his head as his thick arms go around Deacon's waist and back. He actually whines when Deacon pulls away briefly, but Deacon doesn't leave him for long; he straddles the younger man and resumes the kiss, one hand tangled into the short, damp curls of Rocker's hair and the other cradling his lightly-stubbled jaw. When he settles his weight on Rocker's lap, he encounters a heated hardness.

Gasping, Deacon pulls back from the kiss. What am I doing?

Below him, Rocker's blue eyes are blown dark, his fair cheeks pink and rosy, and his lips swollen and wet. He blinks up at Deacon, a soft, inquiring sound emerging from his throat. His hands - massive hands, always so sure and confident - tremble where they're placed on Deacon's body. He licks his lips again.

Deacon's pulse races in his chest while his own cock thickens with desire. He's done this. He's done this to Rocker, who's always, always confident. As if to test his theory, Deacon rocks his hips a little, and Rocker moans, lips parting, his broad chest heaving.

"Please," Rocker whispers, his voice so quiet and broken that Deacon can't tell if Rocker meant to say it at all.

He pulls off his own shirt and then removes Rocker's. A dull pink flush spreads over Rocker's chest. Deacon rubs his thumbs over the erect nipples, making Rocker whimper and rock up. The sensation causes every single nerve in Deacon's body to feel like he's been shocked with electricity.

He wants more of it.

"Just this once," he finds himself saying. "Just once."

"Okay," Rocker agrees too readily, and pulls Deacon close.

#the divorce arc #rockon #donovan rocker #deacon kay #fun fact: partner and i went to Australia for our honeymoon #it rained six of the seven days we were there #the week before and after our trip? SUNSHINE AND JOY #i was so annoyed

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barzzal · 6 months ago

Text

call me crosby → part six

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: parenting, tantrums, and a tad bit of angst genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 5.2k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: REALLY hoping i get to finish this while on my uni break. This was supposed to be posted on father's day but ya girl was on a trip i had to make most of it yk! Also, do note that the italicized part is a quick flashback. Anyway, happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

Two words. Terrible twos.

It was one of the things your mom has told you about raising a child of your own. It was a stage full of tantrums and frustrations; one you’ve never dealt with before. You were told that it was overwhelming, that you have to prepare yourself mentally and physically for it. However, your son, as the marvel child that he is, was so good at that age that you need not have to worry about it.

Well, not until a few years later.

“Mommy, please!” Luke wails in frustration from the living room.

He has been asking for a little more screen time watching his show instead of doing his homework. And be that as it may, he has been adamant about not getting what he wanted.

This has been going on for a couple of weeks, following Luke’s realization of not getting to play much of hockey. Frankly, as well as not seeing much of Sidney.

“Honey, you’ve been watching for almost two hours. That’s enough.” you say, massaging your temple as you walk towards where he is, trying not to lose your temper.

You and your son have always been in sync. You have not really had the chance to reprimand or give him a good scolding. Lucas is a fairly calm child right from the beginning. To say the least, dealing with his temper tantrums now is a lot harder than you’ve prepared for.

You see him sitting on the couch holding the remote tightly. His cheeks are still evidently damp from all the crying. You know he’s bound to strain his voice just by looking at him.

“Two hours is not enough!” he appeals. Just like you thought, his voice is now nearly gone from all the screaming. “Please, I want my TV!”

It is during times like this where you have to try harder as a mother. You know it will not always be rainbows with Luke. But despite your efforts to ensure that he would be able to express himself when you greatly need it, you can’t blame a child for not knowing exactly how he feels nor the reason for it. You just wish he’d be able to let you know even just a little. At least then, you could make it all better.

“Baby,” you endearingly call for him as you approach.

With a soft smile on your face, you caress his hair. Your hands then fall to his cheeks so as to wipe his tears away.

“You’ve already watched a lot of episodes today...” you carefully work your way in; gently reminding him of his acquired screen time.

Frustratingly, Luke’s voice breaks as he tries to tell you he wasn’t going to watch any more episodes of Paw Patrol and the new Lego Spiderman.

“Then what were you trying to watch?” you ask him with the same nurturing voice.

You see Luke shoot a glance over the screen that you’ve already turned off half an hour ago.

Yes, this has been going on for that long.

“Mkay, you may turn it on so you can show me.”

There comes a glint of hope in his eyes the moment he hears you. You fight the urge to chuckle, finding it quite adorable.

Luke, now standing on his feet, finds the red power button and points it towards the television. Once it’s turned on, the thumbnail of a show greets you; one that you least expected– one that you clearly were not ready for.

“So tell us guys, how can we make hockey more fun?” said the last voice you wanted to hear.

Sid and Nathan in their respective jersey’s for a commercial a few years back comes into view. You know that it was one of his brand commitments that he still does to this day. You were just not aware that Tim Horton’s apparently had this particular video uploaded for everyone to see.

As you watch the clip turn over to a handful of kids skating towards the two famed athletes, you make the mistake of taking the remote from your son to pause the short youtube clip quite hastily. You inevitably surprise him with your reaction thereby scaring him.

Upon deducing that you were upset by the show that he has chosen, Luke begins to cry even harder than before.

Alarmed, you put away the remote and reached for him. You let him fall in your arms whilst he buried his face in your chest.

“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy didn’t mean that.” you try to convince him, caressing his head. You feel disgusted with yourself because you know this is not the way you wanted this moment to unfold.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.” Luke says in between his sobbing. He hugs you tighter whilst in a heaping mess.

“Hush, it’s okay.” you comfort him. “I’m sorry too.”

You let him cry himself out. It may be heartbreaking for you, but you couldn’t think of any other way to help your seemingly helpless child. The only thing you could offer him is the assurance that you will always be by his side when he needs you.

You know that the overwhelming surge of emotion he’s feeling now is quite new for him. Dealing with his outburst may be tough on your end, but you can’t even imagine how much harder it must have been for a child to be utterly clueless as to why he is crying.

Swiftly, just like you used to do when he was a baby, you sway your body whilst Luke stays in your embrace. Once Luke’s breathing begins to calm down, you lovingly caress his back; deciding to try again.

“How are you feeling, darling?”

Luke doesn’t utter a word. However, you feel him move even closer to your body as if there was any space left. You tighten your hold on him as you place a kiss atop his forehead.

“Mommy’s not mad at you, okay?”

With what you assume is the last of his sobs, Luke quietly replies, “Okay…”

He breaks away from your hold and looks you in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

You offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey.”

You plant a wet kiss atop his nose, making him giggle.

“May I know why you wanted to watch more TV?” you ask.

When you see a hint of hesitation on his demeanor you add, “I’m not upset. I promise. Go on, you can tell me.”

“Sidney…”

“Do– Do you miss him?” you ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what his answer might be.

Your son nods, “Uh-huh.”

Of course.

Luke continues, “He said… he’s going to play with me when he comes back.”

“Where is he, Mom? Why isn’t he back?”

“I…” you struggle. You didn’t know how to tell him that this was all because of your doing. “I don’t know, honey.”

Luke looks at you with his little eyes, all too tired from crying. “Doesn’t he wanna play with me?”

You shake your head, determined not to put thoughts in his head that could be a detriment as to how he saw Sidney. Funny how you still instinctively did things for Sidney’s sake.

“Of course, he does, sweetheart. He’s just—”

Your son interrupts, “He’s just what?”

You caress his cheek as you say, “He needed to take care of some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

You hum, playing with his hair. “Stuff like what Mom also has to take care of sometimes.”

You think of an example. “Like, when I leave you with Aunt Claire for a little while, you remember?”

He looks up at you with enthusiasm in his voice when he says, “Aunt Claire always gives me M&Ms.”

You give him a warm and knowing smile. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Your son continues, “She also gives me candy when you come back.”

“Yes! See– I always come back, right?” you begin to explain. “Sidney’s gonna come back too, honey. It’s just taking a while. We need to wait a bit longer.”

Luke tilts his head, “Longer?”

“Yes, right. Can you do that? Can you wait a little more for Sidney?”

Once again, only with a discernible smile spreading on his lips, your son nods.

“Are you gonna wait for him too?”

It takes a few seconds before you are able to answer.

“Yes. I am also waiting for him.”

𖥸

Days have gone and your son stayed true to his words. He’s waiting patiently for Sidney.

In the meantime, Luke has shifted his focus on his art albeit not entirely off hockey given that most of his drawings were of hockey sticks, pucks, and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo.

You no longer mind for as long as he is, for lack of a better term, distracted. You and Sidney have remained in no contact with one another and it is highly likely to remain the same. You may have kept in touch with Cath and Anna but neither of them gave you word as to how Sidney was doing. Surely, they were thinking you did not really care for it. Did you?

You sigh, watching your son soundly asleep as he takes his afternoon nap. Days have been quite easier ever since the night you last saw Sidney. But you have to admit, seeing your son’s room now reminds you of him. You would have easily shut down the idea of having Sidney taint the corners of your home with his presence; particularly your son’s room. It would have easily aggravated you, perhaps fuel the hate you have for him even more. How come you don’t? How come what you feel instead is the void in your gut that is melancholy.

Quietly, you shut the door of your son’s room to let him rest.

You have been pondering as to how to remedy your situation with Sidney but alas, nothing came close to a practicable and civil reconciliation. You knew full well that co-parenting would be hard given the fact that it was one of the reasons why you chose to be your son’s only parent. You just fell short of realizing how it will equally be as hard on you. As much as you’d give every fiber of your being to be the best Mother you can be to your child, it kills you to acknowledge that Luke needs someone other than you, even more so that it inevitably means him needing his father.

Perhaps Sidney isn’t the only one who had a hand in everything falling apart. ‘Perhaps’ is a little far fetched but a mere inkling would suffice. You are not yet ready to acknowledge you had your share in the wrongs that make up this little broken family of yours.

You were putting away Luke’s plushies in his toy bin when you heard the doorbell ring. You place the bin on the floor before you make your way to the front door. It was unusual given that you were not really expecting anyone to drop by. The only close friends you have in the city would not be so careless in doing so for obvious reasons.

You take a quick glance on the doorbell camera and your heart immediately sinks.

Of all the people you’d expect to be waiting at the other side of the door, she would be the last one.

The moment you opened the door you were welcomed with eyes as blue as the ocean back home, hair that is as gold as the afternoon sun, and a smile that’s entirely identical to Sidney’s and your son’s.

Close to losing all the words you know, you were able to say one name.

“Taylor.”

She wastes no second, “Is it true?”

You see Taylor’s eyes wander off to Luke’s toy bin sitting idly near the staircase. The discerning look on her face let you know she no longer needed an answer.

“Come in.” you say.

Quiet and unsettling air sits as you invite Sidney’s sister inside your home. You did not really know where to begin. The best thing you can do now is to lead her to your living room, offer some tea, and sit in silence.

“Can I get you anything? I might have some tea lying around.” you say, offering formalities.

Taylor gives you a tight-lipped smile. Reserved. You get it. You would be too if you recently learned you had a nephew.

“Water would be nice.” she replies.

You give her a swift nod just as you tell her, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You turn on your heels and make your way towards the kitchen with cold hands and a pounding heart. Sitting with Sidney’s sister for afternoon tea isn’t exactly what you had in mind spending your time off work.

Needless to say, you prolong the trip to the kitchen and back to the living room. You need to buy yourself some time to process what’s about to happen.

Upon your return, you see Taylor looking at the photo wall you’ve created through the years. The very same one you caught Sidney looking at the first time you invited him over.

When the two of you catch each other’s gaze, you offer Taylor an apologetic smile. It’s true. You now realize how your new life — your growth looked like through the eyes of your old friends. A harsh reminder that none of them are in it.

You and Taylor were good friends ever since Sidney brought you to Halifax to meet his folks. You always had a hard time warming up to people you barely know, but with Taylor… well, she made it so easy.

If only she knew of the things you’ve gone through subsequent to the better parts of your life with her brother. Maybe then, she’d understand.

The two of you utter each other’s names at once, immediately stopping upon realization.

You gladly let Taylor know she could continue what she was about to say. After all, you know she has nothing but questions that only you could answer.

The first thing she asks is, “What happened?”

You begin to explain. You tell her about the first time you knew you were pregnant, the moment you told Sidney, and how things unraveled shortly after that. You spared her no detail of what has come and gone; the years that flew by so quickly and dreadfully slow at the same time.

“I didn’t know things were that hard,” she says apologetically, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you pause, “I knew Sidney felt alone.”

With kind eyes, Taylor replies, “So were you.”

Taylor has always been on your side despite being Sidney’s sister. She knew how difficult her brother can be. After all, she grew up with him.

You sigh because what she said was true. You and Sidney were alone together. But regardless of the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t want to let Sidney feel as alone as you felt when he left you. Maybe that’s why you inadvertently left Taylor out of the mess just so Sidney felt he still had someone on his side.

“At the time everyone blamed him for not wanting a child.” you begin, “I knew that if I told you, you’d feel the same as I do. I didn’t want him to feel that his sister was against him too.”

“Listen,” she says, “When Sid told me, I swore that I was gonna come up here and be mad at you… but for years, I’ve seen how the game ate up most of the Sid I knew. So I guess, I couldn’t really blame you.”

“I only did what I thought was the best for us.” you say honestly, “I just didn’t think the repercussions of my action would bring us into this much mess.”

It’s true. The life you pictured with your son excluded Sidney, but you should have known that what Claire told you was right the moment you came back to Pittsburgh with your son. Sure, the first year went by so blissfully. But you have forgotten yet another circumstance you should have known before you dealt another card: Luke.

Luke is growing up exactly how you dreamt him to be. A boy who has a mind of his own. You cannot really expect him to go along your every plan if he’s already becoming his own person, can you?

You hate yourself for it. However, you’ll hate yourself even more if you deprive him of something he is entitled to have no matter how much you’re against it.

Taylor stayed for a while. You spend the time showing her memories you’ve made with Luke. You showed pictures of your son as a newborn, the many birthday parties you have thrown for him, even the ones you have taken of him playing hockey. Taylor savored every bit of the nephew she could get to know. The only thing left now is to finally meet him.

With nothing but a humble heart you hold Taylor’s hand and say, “I’m really sorry.”

Taylor puts her hand on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “I understand.”

“Do you want to meet him?”

“I do,” she gives you a warm smile, “but not when you and Sidney have yet to patch things up.”

You let go of her hand and sigh. You understood what she wanted you to do. For the first time, you wanted the same thing too.

“I’ll talk to him.”

𖥸

July has been warming up the city but your words still rang in Sidney’s ears as if it had just been uttered.

“I’m done.”

As hard as it was to admit, Sidney knew that the article was the final nail in the coffin — the final string that would make him understand why you had to keep his son away from him. Just like all the other times, you were right. He had always been less of a man much like all the others.

He couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to screw things up worse than he already had even when he was barely making any progress. Perhaps, it was foolish of him to think he can still make it work. After all, what more remedy could he do to the very thing you have long buried six feet under?

Instead, what he did was go home to Halifax days subsequent to the release of the controversial article. The last thing he wanted was attention so he did the sanest thing he could think of: renovate his lake shed.

Apart from the fact that it was the off-season, Sidney could not see himself staying in his Pittsburgh home. The night you ended the attempt to co-parent with him only reminded Sidney of the time he foolishly thought he had already purged out of his system. It was as if he had been brought back to the night he was told his child was gone.

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor. “Please don’t make me leave.”

Sidney feels your grip on his hand tighten as an attempt to break off his hold, but before you can do so, the door to your room opens to reveal Kris and Geno rushing to take Sidney away from you.

“Sidney,” he hears Geno call his name.

He didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere without you. He knew you needed him. He understood what had to be done. A little too late, but he’s here now.

“Y/N-”

“Sid,” Kris places a hand on his shoulder just as he firmly says, “let her rest.”

It was the least Sidney could do. To let you be — as he had easily done so when it was the last thing you wanted.

Sidney came back to the hospital with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. He walked the halls with hope only to find out you were no longer there. He had been cut off as soon as Kris and Geno walked him out of your hospital room — the last time he was ever going to see you.

He waited for hours sitting on the lobby bench beside your hospital room. If it were not for the next patient arriving to occupy the room, Sidney would not have probably left.

The days he spent in your shared home haunted him of the days he had left you alone in it waiting for him to come home. The house he had built with his fame and successes have now become a constant reminder of what a failure it really was.

Sidney sighed once he finished a glass of water. He absent mindedly places it atop the counter as his eyes remained in focus at a photograph placed on his refrigerator. It had been a while since he last saw it. After all, he only gets to go home during the off season.

He walks towards the fridge and takes the photo in his hand. It was the first sonogram you had of your son. The one you dread having to leave when you finally had the courage to leave Sidney, but the last possession Sidney has of the life he could have been living.

With eyes now glistening with impending tears, Sidney lightly rubs his thumb on the picture — what was once a tiny little peanut has grown to become a boy Sidney could no longer keep out of his mind. He’s hurting at the fact that he misses you — but his heart aches at the thought of Luke eventually forgetting about him. Sidney knows he’s going to be yet another random ‘Mr.’ at a camp that happened to teach him a sport he will grow up to forget eventually. All those memories Sidney will bring with him to his deathbed will surely be forgotten by the time the tiny little peanut graduates from college.

Who else could he blame for the life he’s now living however miserable it may be? You offered him this life with your own life on the line. Sidney did nothing but toss it aside because he was set on his ways. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Perhaps, that’s what he should bring to his deathbed.

Sidney’s self-loathing was put into a halt when he heard a chime coming from his phone already buzzing on his kitchen counter.

He sees a message that almost had him on his knees.

Just below your name were the words he had least expected but mostly hoped to read, “Can we talk?”

𖥸

As soon as you were able to set a date, Sidney wasted no time and got in the next flight bound for Pittsburgh. Sidney had two days to prepare before meeting you and while that seemed like enough time to be able to think about what he’s going to say the moment he sees you, he could neither ascertain how to explain nor justify his shortcomings. So, he won’t.

Sidney watches your car pull over the driveway after having opened his gate. After the tedious two-day wait, you were back. Well, at least that’s what Sidney thought at the time. Because unlike him, it was not just two days — it has been six years.

Sidney was chivalrous enough to let a few seconds pass before he finally opened the door for you although to tell you the truth, he had been at the other side of it long before you rang the doorbell.

You follow Sidney’s steps as you make your way to the living room. Said walk was not like the others you used to thread on back when you were still together — it wasn’t so long and quiet. At least, it didn’t feel that way.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Sidney asks. The hoarseness in his voice strung along his words.

Has he been crying that much? His eyes were a bit tired. He hasn’t been sleeping. How come Kris said he was fine? But then again, Sidney has had quite a talent in putting up a facade. You catch him fiddling his thumb. When he sees where your eyes have been, Sidney immediately takes his hand into his pocket.

You immediately put your gaze elsewhere. “Uh, just water.”

As you scan the view that is Sidney Crosby’s home, one thing comes to mind: it looks nothing like Connor Mcdavid’s. Sidney’s was far more deserving to be featured in Architectural Digest. To hell with black and metal. This was a home.

Well, it is. Just not for Sidney.

Even if it was, a part of you knew Sidney would never parade his home for everyone else to see; let alone have it printed on a magazine.

Apart from the wood panels that fashioned the ceilings, everything else was unfamiliar. It was as if you never lived in it. He had new pieces displayed in various corners of the room. Some of it worth millions sitting idly beside or on top of worn out books like some mere paper weight.

Sidney also redid the floors. Neutral wide plank flooring. You thought that it was quite a bold choice considering the majority of the furniture you had before came in dark tones. But then, that made you realize Sidney also bought new furniture. He also changed a few fixtures, here and there. The white french sliding doors leading to the patio were now replaced with glass doors that had wood trimmings as well as the hallway leading to your old home office that now had interior glass doors. You notice tons of boxes you could see from the other side. Perhaps, he thought it would now be a good use for a storage space. After all, he had to fill in every bit of void you’ve left him with.

You tear your eyes away from the halls you used to frequent. Instead, you quietly follow Sidney’s footsteps. The house still had an open floor-plan. Sidney loved seeing everything at once. At least that hasn’t changed.

“Make yourself comfortable.” he says with a tight-lipped smile just as he turns towards the kitchen.

The cloud of uncertainty was still evident and heavy. To top it all, you were neither sure of what to tell him nor where to begin. Clearly, you should have bought yourself a bit more time before ringing his doorbell.

You hold your bag close to your chest once you’ve sat in Sidney's living room. You were wrong. The changes he made were drastic. His taste then was incomparable to how it is now. The Sidney you knew then wouldn’t be so meticulous as to what type of wood to use in his fireplace or what fabric to pick when it comes to throw pillows lining the couch. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought of having one — let alone five.

A quiet smile seeps in your lips. It’s nice that something good has come out of such an ugly chapter in your lives.

Your eyes catch a shade of blue and crimson red blankly displayed on the side of the room from where you were sitting. You feel a gnawing guilt resting in your guts as the painting comes into full view. You stand as your hand travels to your chest. It was a piece by Peter Doig called the “100 Years Ago”.

A man sits alone in a canoe in the middle of a quiet and still ocean. The man looks at you helpless and tired of what must have been an arduous journey. You meet his eyes, as if it were in desperate need of help. Your help. But then again, there’s an island waiting for him — even a house sitting on top of the hill. Couldn’t he just row his way and ask for help? Perhaps his inability to do so was due to the fact that he’d already gone to that house — maybe what it really was is just as empty as what he already had in the canoe.

As the eerily still piece settles before your eyes, you can’t help but think of what it must have been like to be the one that’s stuck. The man that was torn between two distances. To choose between whatever it was sitting before his eyes and the big island he can always call home.

“Hey.”

Sidney’s voice pulls you back to your feet.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” he says, two glasses of water in each hand.

“No, it’s all right.” you say.

“That–” you turn your gaze back to the painting before continuing, “That is something.”

Sidney gives a humble smile. “Thanks. I got it a couple of years back when I started renovating the place.”

It would be absurd to say that Sidney’s house has not changed since the last time you walked its halls. It did change. A lot. After all, you didn’t expect him to leave everything as it was; how you left it. Despite that, there was a little hope that Sidney did leave a bit of what might have reminded him of you untouched.

“So– listen, the reason why I came here.” you begin, hugging the glass with both your hands.

“I know. Taylor.” Sidney saves you the need to explain. “I’m sorry I told her. I wasn’t in my right mind the last couple of weeks.”

It’s true. He knew it must have been hard for you to tell Taylor everything. It was yet another reason for you to cut him completely out of your life, yet another rash decision, yet another failure. Sidney did what he could at the time and his only wish now is for you to understand. He had just lost you and his son twice. To have done otherwise would have made him lose his mind.

“No. It’s alright. She’s bound to know that she has a nephew.” you earnestly reply.

At this point, you have come to realize that you’ve been insufferable regardless of your own merits. Sidney thought he had lost a son. You couldn’t possibly deprive him of his own sister.

“How– how is he?” he asks, afraid of how he’ll be answered.

You look Sidney in his eyes just as you say, “He’s been missing you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Sidney takes in the new information as a quiet smile spreads on his lips. Luke misses him.

Seeing Sidney’s reaction brought you a sense of guilt and warmth only a parent could feel.

“Honestly, Taylor visiting isn’t really the reason why I’m here.”

His brows quirk and asks, “What do you mean?”

“I think…” you say, fighting yourself from refusing to tell Sidney the truth. The very truth that you’re still having a hard time accepting.

“I think it’s time to acknowledge– and for me to accept, that my son needs you.”

It’s the truth. It might have been hard for you given that Sidney was the root of it all, but you could no longer put up with the way you have been treating Sidney at your son’s expense. You may still have bits of resentment towards what once was but that doesn’t give you a right to deprive your son of his right. A part of you may still hate Sidney for the pain he caused you, but you could not bear the thought of your son hating his father because of your own doing.

Sidney is at a loss for words.

“Do you really mean that?”

He sees you nod.

You give him a reassuring smile.

“It’s one thing to keep a father away from his child, but it’s another to keep a child away from his father.”

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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months ago

Text

The Kay Princesses' Happily Ever After

This is intended to be Part 2 of The Kay Princesses

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: Deacon wants to marry you, but he has to ensure that his kids understand and agree before he proposes. Then, you have a special question for Lila.

Warnings: fluff, brief angst, Annie's fate is up to you

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

A/N: While this is a part 2, it is written from a different POV. I think it could also be read as a standalone, but there are references to the events of part 1. I hope you enjoy!! :)

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Rules & Info

Deacon’s kids don’t get to visit him at HQ much anymore, so when they have a day off school and 20 Squad is on standby, he decides to take them by. His team loves seeing them and playing with them – none more than Luca. While they’re there, however, Deacon decides that today is also the day to ask them the most important question he may ever ask. He wants to marry you, he’s known that for much longer than he has had the ring, but he has to get their approval first. Since the beginning, you and he have both understood that if any of the kids said no, you would step back. Deacon prays that you don’t have to step back after walking so far together.

After he calls Matthew, Lila, and Samuel back to his side, he prepares to leave for the day.

“Hey, good luck, Deac!” Luca calls.

Deacon nods his head in thanks, then leads his kids back to the car. He gets to spend the afternoon with them for once, so he’ll ask them as soon as he finds the right words. They eat lunch together, then the kids go to their separate rooms to entertain themselves while Deacon cleans the kitchen.

When he’s done, Deacon takes a deep breath and walks to Lila’s room. She’ll probably say yes, but Deacon prepares himself for the worst. Her door is open, and she’s lying on her bed coloring.

“Lila, can we talk for a minute?” Deacon asks from the doorway of her room.

“Yeah, Daddy,” she answers.

Deacon nods, and Lila frowns at the look on his face. He’s nervous, and she can tell that something isn’t quite right. After he closes her door, he sits on the side of her bed and takes a deep breath.

“What’s wrong?” Lila asks.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart, I just need to ask you something. But, if you want to say no, you can. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Deacon says your name, then stops. He hasn’t told the kids how serious things have gotten with you yet. His team knows, of course, but this is the moment where a single word from any of his children could end what he has with you.

“I want to marry her,” Deacon adds softly. He smiles kindly at Lila before he asks, “Would you be alright with that?”

Lila slides her coloring book aside and climbs into Deacon’s lap. He holds her upright, so she doesn’t fall, and when she wraps her arms firmly around him, he tightens his grip on her.

“Will she live here?” Lila asks.

“Yes, or maybe we could get another house.” He doesn’t want to explain that if they don’t want you in the same house where they knew Annie, he’d move without question.

“And she’ll look like a princess in her white dress, right?”

Deacon smiles as he answers, “Absolutely. And you can wear a dress to be a princess, too.”

“I like her,” Lila says. “I want you to get married.”

Deacon sighs, and hugs Lila to his chest. He whispers that he loves her, and Lila laughs before she murmurs, “I know.”

When Deacon exits her room, he sees the sign hanging across the hall that says, ‘Boys Only (except Lila).’ Samuel will be easily convinced; he thinks you’re the greatest person ever because you know all the shortcuts in Candy Land. Matthew, however, despite having come a long way in his treatment of you, may not be so eager to welcome the idea of having you around all the time. Deacon knocks on the door, and it pushes open.

“Dad! Look!” Matthew calls. He holds up two toys that he has hooked together. “It worked.”

“That’s awesome, bud. Good job,” Deacon responds. “Can you take a break from playing for a minute? I need to ask you something.”

“You’re getting married?” Matthew guesses as he sets his modified toy aside.

“I- why do you think that?” Deacon asks.

“Uncle Luca told you good luck,” Samuel interjects. “Why do you need it?”

“Alright, boys, let’s go back. I want to get married, yes, but if you don’t want me to, I won’t. So, are you comfortable with her being here more?”

“Yes!” Samuel cheers. Deacon smiles, though he suspected as much.

“She’s not replacing Mom, right?” Matthew asks quietly.

“Not at all.”

Matthew nods. “You should do it, Dad. I like her, and she makes you happy.”

Deacon pulls Matthew into a hug without much thought. Matthew groans but returns the affection. Soon, there will be another Kay Princess in the house who may get an exception to the boys-only rule.

Kids are notoriously bad at keeping secrets, and the bigger the secret, the faster it will be shared. So, the moment Deacon learns that his kids like you and support his decision to marry you, he calls you. There’s not much planning or time to make the moment special, but Deacon can’t go another moment without asking you. As Hondo said, the ring is burning him after holding onto it for so long.

When you knock on Deacon’s door, you expect him to open it. Instead, Lila welcomes you in wearing her favorite dress.

“You look beautiful, Lila,” you tell her.

She hugs you, then leads you through the house and to the back door. Outside, the lights Deacon put up to decorate his backyard are aglow in the darkening dusk sky. Deacon stands beneath the tree in the center of the yard, and Matthew and Samuel wait on the deck.

“What’s going on?” you ask them.

Samuel presses his lips together tightly and shakes his head while Matthew answers, “A surprise. Dad wants to tell you.”

“Oh,” you reply softly.

Lila waves for you to go, and you walk off of the deck and into the grass. When you reach Deacon, his smile changes. He takes both of your hands and pulls you closer.

“Thanks for coming,” he begins.

“Of course. What’s going on?” you inquire. “This is beautiful, but…”

“You’re beautiful,” Deacon replies. “And you’re smart, caring, you love my kids… I love you, and every princess quality that you have. I can’t imagine my life without you on my team.”

Deacon releases your right hand as he kneels. Your eyes widen as he pulls a black box from his pocket.

“Will you do me the honor of marrying me, and being on my team, at my side, for the rest of our lives?”

You nod quickly, unable to speak past the tears pressing against your eyes. After a shaky breath, you mumble, “Yes, Deacon. Yes!”

He slides the ring onto your finger, and you don’t even look at it before you hug him. Deacon’s arm wraps tightly around your waist, and he holds you against him as he stands. Behind you, his kids cheer together. You pull back enough to kiss him, then look over your shoulder at Lila, Matthew, and Samuel.

“They’re okay with this?” you whisper.

“More than okay. They’re gaining another Kay princess in their lives, too,” Deacon assures you.

You watch Lila twirl in her dress and realize that they’re as much a part of this as you are.

“Deacon, can I ask Lila to be my maid of honor?”

Deacon smiles and kisses you again. Being a Kay princess is far more rewarding than you anticipated.

“Good morning,” Deacon greets when he answers the door. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome, as always,” you reply.

Deacon welcomes you in, and you kiss his cheek as you pass him.

“Is she ready?”

“Almost.” Deacon laughs before he drops his voice to explain, “She keeps changing. She wants to look perfect.”

“Then would you please take her this?”

You pass Deacon a pink gift bag, and he can’t deny your smile, so he delivers it to Lila’s room. Her squeal reaches your ears in the living room, and your smile widens as Deacon returns.

“What is it?” Deacon asks.

“A matching princess dress. Today had to be special.”

“Every day is special with you.”

“We match!” Lila exclaims.

You look away from Deacon to see her standing before you. She smiles at you before she rushes to hug you. At Deacon’s silent prompting, she thanks you for the dress.

“Well, we’re off to enjoy a princess day,” you tell Deacon.

“Enjoy. Call if you need anything.”

You promise to do just that, then take Lila’s hand and lead her outside. It’s a big day for both of you. Lila gets to live like a princess and spend the day with another girl, and you get to ask her to be your maid of honor. You don’t doubt that she’ll say yes, but just in case, you have a backup plan to involve her in the wedding party another way.

By lunch, Lila is getting tired. She doesn’t want to stop, however, until you tell her about a fairytale-themed restaurant you’d like to try. Easily convinced, you hold her hand as you enter the whimsical building and are led to your seats.

“Lila, have you ever been to a wedding?” you ask her.

“Mmhmm. One of Dad’s work friends,” she answers.

“Do you know what a maid of honor is?” Lila shakes her head, so you ask, “What about a bridesmaid?”

“The girls who stand with the bride?”

“Yep, those are bridesmaids. But the one that stands closest to the bride is called a maid of honor, and it’s usually the bride’s best friend or a girl who is really, really important to her.”

Lila nods along with your explanation, and when you see your waitress returning with your glittery pink princess drinks, you decide to ask sooner rather than later. You set an envelope on the table, with her name written elegantly across the front.

“Would you like to be my maid of honor, Lila?” you ask.

The waitress stops when she hears your question. She smiles and nods to assure you it’s fine to finish before she delivers your beverages.

“Like your best friend?” Lila whispers.

“Yeah. Because you’re super special.”

“And we’re both Dad’s princesses?”

You smile and answer, “That too.”

“Really?”

“Open the letter.”

Lila pulls the card out of the envelope. It’s a picture of a castle with two princesses curtseying, and underneath it reads, “Join me on our special day?”

“Yes!” Lila answers. “I want to!”

She slides out of her seat and rounds the table. Lila hugs you tightly, and you pull the chair beside you out so that she can stay on the same side of the table as you.

“Congratulations, your highnesses,” your waitress says. “I’m sure you’ll be the best maid of honor ever.”

“Thank you!” Lila replies.

“Thank you,” you add.

“So, what do I do?” Lila asks you.

“Lots of things. But I think we should get some lunch before we go shopping for your maid of honor dress.”

Lila quickly agrees and leans against your arm to look at the menu with you.

The morning of your wedding is spent getting ready with your closest friends and family. Luca and Street invite themselves into the bridal suite as well when they hear from Lila that you have snacks.

“Are you nervous?” Luca asks. “Deacon’s reviewed his vows like fifteen times.”

“Should I be?” you reply. “Because I’ve honestly never been this happy and excited in my life.”

“Me neither!” Lila agrees, swishing the skirt of her dress around her legs.

“Deac just wants it to be perfect, special for all of you,” Street adds.

“I would’ve married him at the courthouse the morning after he proposed,” you point out. “It’s already more perfect than I ever expected.”

“We’ll tell him that as soon as we’re done,” Street says, reaching for another cookie.

“Aren’t groomsmen supposed to stay with the groom?” you ask Luca.

“He told me to bring Lila back,” Luca argues. “Never said I had to return by a certain time.”

“Have you seen Deacon cry?” Street asks.

“No,” you say. “Why?”

“Because he is absolutely going to cry when you walk down the aisle, and during your vows, and again after it’s official.”

Luca nods in agreement, and you turn to make sure your mascara is waterproof.

When you step out onto the aisle, your eyes meet Deacon’s and everything else fades away. All that matters in this moment is Deacon Kay and the life you’re entering with him. Which includes his kids. Lila is waiting beside your spot with a smile, Matthew stands between Luca and Deacon on the other side, and Samuel is waving from the front row after delivering the rings to the officiant.

As you begin walking toward Deacon, you notice that he is crying. You blink quickly to clear your own vision, but the tears don’t dampen your smile or Deacon’s. When you reach the altar, you lower gently toward Lila. Matthew and Samuel come to your side as well, just as you practiced.

“Thank you for letting me be part of your life,” you tell them. “I love you, Lila, Samuel, and Matthew.”

They hug you tightly, and Deacon wipes his eyes as you all return to your places. He takes your hands as the officiant welcomes everyone in attendance. You read your vows first, and Deacon cries again. When he begins his vows, however, you are very glad you double-checked that your makeup wouldn’t be ruined.

“… and you’re the most incredible princess I’ve ever had the joy of meeting,” Deacon says. The people around you chuckle, and you smile as you squeeze his hand. “Being loved by you is more special than any title I could have or other life I could live. I promise to treat you like the princess you are and love you more with each breath.”

You chuckle wetly, and Lila taps your side. She passes you a tissue, which makes everyone laugh, and you thank her before you use it to dry your cheeks.

“With those vows – and tears – you will now exchange rings.”

You slide Deacon’s simple band onto his finger, then offer your hand for your matching ring. The moment you are finished, the officiant pronounces you and Deacon man and wife, then steps aside for your first kiss. Just as when you walked down the aisle, everything fades away as you kiss Deacon, your husband, for the first time.

When you step back, your friends and family are cheering, and you pull Lila into a tight hug.

“Thanks for being a princess with me,” you say.

“We’re always princesses!” she replies with a giggle.

“Kay princesses,” Deacon agrees, wrapping his arms around both of you.

#david deacon kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay fluff #deacon kay #swat cbs #swat x reader #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago

Text

“Why are you whistling?” Eddie asks after he’s heard Steve do it for the fourth time.

“Huh?”

Eddie imitates him; it’s not like Steve is just casually following a tune in his head—it sounds deliberate. Encouraging whistles, one right after the other, in groups of three. Like a… like a call to something.

“Oh.” Steve chuckles slightly, gestures vaguely to the trees around them—to the evening fog that’s settling in, clinging to the branches. They’ll be nearing Lover’s Lake soon, surely. “Guess ‘cause of, uh… it’s just… a habit.” He smiles as if to himself. “In case of… dogs. So they come to me first.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Dogs. Right. Do I need a translator around you all?”

Steve’s smile grows. “Maybe. Not gonna spill all our secrets just like that, Munson. Gotta respect, um…” He clicks his fingers. “Narrative tension.”

Eddie snorts. “Fine. I’ll get the full story outta you yet, Harrington. Just you wait.”

“Mm-hmm. It’s a good one.”

“Why?”

Steve shrugs, but Eddie follows where his eyes linger: Lucas, Max. Dustin.

“Uh, I guess… it wasn’t really the beginning of… everything. But, um, it kinda was one. A beginning, I mean—for me, anyway.” He huffs, seems to hear himself. “Sorry. That was cryptic as hell and I wasn’t even… Hey, man, lemme know if you find a translator, think I need one for me, too.”

Eddie smiles. “Sure.”

But even as they’re walking towards uncertainty, even though Eddie knows there’s so many little stories he’s missing, all tangled up in the big one…

He finds that he can understand a lot about Steve without needing words.

There’s a tautness to his body as he walks, like even when seemingly relaxed, he’s always ready to run. Like there’s an unbreakable string pulling right from the centre of him, and Eddie already knows that it’ll lead straight to the kids.

Three whistles in the dark.

So they come to me first.

Eddie’s growing certain that this story in its entirety won’t exactly put his mind at ease. But for some reason, as they walk side-by-side, his heartbeat slows, like he’s finally calm enough to feel something other than fear.

Something close to fondness.

Maybe.

I don’t need a translator, Steve Harrington. Turns out I can read you pretty damn well.

#another hike from skull rock to lover’s lake missing scene #s2 steve has a special place in my heart ❤️ oh the implications of the junkyard scene & the tunnels scene #pre steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie #steve and the party #eddie is perceptive #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

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episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them.

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways.

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good.

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds.

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her.

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit.

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.”

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her.

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence.

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation.

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed.

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.”

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. 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,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“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.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure.

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.”

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts.

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.”

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her.

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow.

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.”

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touche.”

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside.

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open.

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot.

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does.

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end.

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.”

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know.

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow.

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you.

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan.

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him.

—

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in.

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity.

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing.

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will.

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down.

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.”

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are.

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation.

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it.

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up.

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.”

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.”

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities.

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.”

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her.

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay.

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions.

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks.

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes.

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?”

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours.

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.”

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred.

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off.

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare.

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him.

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world.

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house.

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief.

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.”

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you.

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.”

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you.

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over).

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made.

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam.

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.”

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.”

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone.

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you.

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit.

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.”

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.”

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then.

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding.

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.”

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.”

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions.

Just peachy.

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well.

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.”

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices.

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…”

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys.

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone.

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole.

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him.

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks.

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.”

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh.

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him.

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now.

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty.

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation.

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused.

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.”

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen.

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.”

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns.

“Sorry.”

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.”

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?”

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.”

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son.

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class.

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that.

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor.

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will.

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.”

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.”

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either.

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind.

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out.

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door.

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.”

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now.

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?”

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed.

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl.

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down.

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive.

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?”

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose.

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you.

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess.

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay.

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying.

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.”

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once.

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks.

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up.

You all face her now. “You can?”

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide.

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table.

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face.

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?”

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that.

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.”

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool.

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down.

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given.

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El.

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head.

“Will is hiding?”

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

–

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions.

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find.

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet…

You fear he’s done something stupid.

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you.

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused.

“Mrs. Byers-”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you.

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.”

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her.

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.”

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her.

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonthan’s room.

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you.

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised.

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.��

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal.

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.”

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!”

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.”

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!”

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days.

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.”

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance.

–

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight.

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes.

You’ve never felt so alone before.

⌑ series masterlist

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #the thought of steve just taking will's missing poster and then being like oh shit was so funny to me i had to add it #also sad ending #sorry #but also not

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russellsppttemplates · 9 months ago

Note

Hi sweetheart, hope you’re good<3

Could you write sth for Matilda and Lucas? Whatever you’d like but I’m getting all mushy on the idea of them understanding each other without words and all

Note: me too! I starred thinking about it and I melted! 🥹🫠 I hope you're well too!

Even though Lando and Oscar would spend a lot of the time in media duties, they still wanted their little ones close to them so they could spend a little time with them on their breaks.

While their mothers engaged in conversation, Lucas and Matilda sat at the table with their arts and crafts kits open. They were both quiet kids but they understood eachother without having to speak many words.

Matilda would always make sure her crayons were within arms reach for Lucas, and the little boy would always notice whenever she needed something and make sure she could have it, like right now, when he noticed her crayon needed to be sharpened, gently handing her the sharpener with a sweet smile on his face.

"Thank you, Lucas", Matilda whispered gently as she took it, a sweet smile on her face too.

They drew on each of their drawings until it was done before Lucas pulled a big A3 sheet of paper from his folder, "my mummy said we could draw on this together, do you want to do that?", he asked.

Matilda nodded, grabbing some of her pens and spreading them out so he could use them too, starting to draw flowers on the paper. Lucas followed her, doing his best to make sure they complimented her pink and purple flowers. They easily found a scheme: Matilda would draw the petals, colouring them in and then Lucas would follow with the glittery yellow pen to colour in the middle, ending up with about a quarter of the page covered in flowers in all colours and shapes.

Lucas thought it would look nice with some rainbows, so he started drawing them, this time with Matilda following his lead as they drew the coloured arches.

After tidying up, they both got up and walked up to a magnetic wall, their mothers always keeping an eye on them, and grabbed some magnets to hold their drawing up.

"Hey, Tilly", Lando cooed as he and Oscar walked up the stairs, seeing their children looking at the drawing.

"Did you draw that with Matilda, little man?", Oscar asked as Lucas hugged his legs, nodding in response, "it looks really good", he complimented.

"Looks really pretty, baby", Lando smiled, pulling his daughter up on his hip and kissing her cheek, "let's go to mummy, hm? We can all have lunch together".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #oscar piastri blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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sameatsfunions · 3 months ago

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Day 4 of Halloween steddie!!! :D who’s having fun? I am!

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Steve’s arms felt like they were going to fall off. The kids told him to bring extra pillowcases, so he did, figuring that someone probably didn’t have extras or forgot one or something. To his shock and horror, he quickly found out that he was going to have to carry the extra weight of two half full pillowcases of Halloween candy.

The kids ditched him and were a good couple of houses ahead of where he was dragging his feet, both bags slung over his shoulders to give his arms a break. His fingers cramped as he squeezed, the fabric making indents in his hands as gravity worked against him.

Just another hour of pure bliss and fun! He closed his eyes, letting his feet take him forward, each step he took, leading him toward the seemingly never ending path of houses. Next year I’m making Mike bring Holly’s wagon.

He let out a sigh as his eyes opened, squinting as he heard faint and distant “Steve!” His heart beat raced as he realized these were not calls of joy, but more of desperation. He quickly rearranged the bags of candy, grabbing them in two fists as he quickly jogged towards the sounds of his name.

He saw his group of kids standing just ahead as he got closer, his eyes did a mental head count and realized that he came up one kid short.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He said to himself as his pace slowed, holding the bags of candy out to Dustin and max. “Here. What’s wrong.” He said slightly panting, his breath fogging up as it hit the cold air.

“Will’s missing.” Dustin said quickly, his eyes full of worry.

“We can’t find him.” Max said, looking to Lucas for comfort.

“He was right behind us and then-“ Mike said, in a full blown panic.

“Okay okay. Calm down, it’s alright.” Steve reassured the distressed kids. Looking around as he thought of what to do. They don’t teach you this in school. He thought returning his attention to the group.

“When did you last see him grabbing candy?” Steve asked hands habitually finding his hips, his eyes locked into mikes, as he spoke.

“Like literally two seconds ago… we were all at that house-“ he points to the house across the street, “and then we came over here to do the next one, and we noticed he was just gone.” Mike looked like he was going to cry, and it broke Steve’s heart.

“Listen, nothing bad is happening, he probably just got mixed up.” Steve said, looking around for will. He’s a shy, quiet and reserved kid he’s not going to just go off on his own. The kids like a baby deer.

Steve thought as he held his hands out, pumping them out, palms down, saying a stern. “Stay here. I’ll go look around for him, okay?” He turned towards the house they last saw will, it was on the corner of another street. He turned back around walking in a side step as he starred daggers into the kids, yelling out a more stern, “stay. There. I’m serious.”

He tried to focus on finding will, but the screams and loud laughs from trick or treaters stole his attention. The whole incident making his internal voice scream at him. You were supposed to watch them. It’s your fault he’s missing.

He shook his head and passed another house, now down the road from where he left the kids. His eyes searched down the street, and looked for wills costume, he was wearing a red hoodie and jeans; he was Elliot from E.T. It was a fitting costume and Steve liked it better than most of the costumes he saw that night.

Time was passing as Steve looked and looked, each house feeling like a never ending maze of new decorations and noise to distract him from finding will.

Then he heard it. The giggle. Wills innocent, sweet giggle, making Steve look around frantically. That’s when he spotted him, walking down the road with a familiar face, looking like nothing was wrong.

Steve quickly moved his feet, practically running. He quickly noticed he was with Eddie Munson, the towns freak, he was relatively nice but he had a volume issue, which Steve was grateful for right now. His voice careying over the suburban neighborhood, “you’re a pretty smart kid, you know that Byers?”

Steve’s mind spun with the new emotions, eyes wide with relief and desperation. “You.” He said, as he got in ear distance. “You had everyone worried sick.” He called out, not being able to hold back, the words erupting from his throat. Steve never thought about having kids, that was until these last two years when he got closer with his kids. That’s when he realized, they bring as much joy as they do panic and stress.

He came to a stop just in front of them, eyes snapping to Eddie. “And you-“ Steve pointed at Eddie, “What are you doing here?”

Will looked confused as he gave Steve slight attitude, “it’s not my fault everyone else kept walking when i stopped.” His pubescent voice made him sound all nasally.

“Alright, Will.” Steve said his voice lower and less harsh, swallowing down his need to be the kids second mother as he looked to Eddie again. “And what’s your excuse?” He asked, pulling Will into his side as Eddie shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was over at Gareth’s house. The band thought it would be good to pass out candy to the kids. It is the best day of the year Harrington.” Eddie gave him a sweet smile, full of good intentions.

Steve looked to will to confirm, which he nodded, his big eyes looked like a sad little puppy. Steve sighed and looked back up at Eddie. “Well thanks for watching over him..” Steve looked back to will, giving him a concerning look, telling him now, “your friends are pretty shook up from you hanging back.”

Will looked down and nodded. Steve felt like he just got punched, and instantly regretted saying anything about it at all. “It’s alright, no problem. Let’s just get back before Mike calls hopper.” Steve patted his back lightly as he watched his face change with the thoughts.

Will smiles at the ground and nods again, looking up to Eddie and giving him a small wave. Steve followed his lead and smiled at Eddie, “thanks, again.” Which Eddie returned the smile, and said a polite, “anytime, Steve.” This was the first time that he’d ever referred to him as just his first name. It felt nice, definitely better than his usual passive nicknames.

Eddie held his hand out for a high five as Will lit up, giving him a down low and looked to back to steve for further instructions.

“alright give me that.” Steve said grabbing the pillow case full of candy from Will. “Holy crap, it weighs more than you.” He said in full seriousness. No, seriously, what are these parents passing out this year. Shit. He turned with will, and started the walk back to the group, turning around to see Eddie still standing there watching the two walk off.

Steve giving him another wave over his shoulder, and a grateful smile, returning his attention back to Will. “Let’s hope the rest of the little shits are still waiting where I told them too.” Will let out a small laugh, and a quiet “yeah.”

Steve thought back to how Eddie was going to walk Will back to the group, his kindness showing through the tough facade he put out. Steve felt his face get warm as he realized, that Eddie was someone he think he might actually enjoy being around. Maybe I judged him too soon.

Maybe I should actually get to know Eddie Munson before I make assumptions. Steve smiled as he walked next to Will, the idea of making a new friend, just because he felt like it, swimming around in his head. “You know, you can learn something from this.” Steve said, as the distance between them and the group got smaller. “Really?” Will asked, genuinely curious as to what Steve meant.

“I mean- I know I have.” Steve said, swinging wills pillow case of candy at his side. “I learned, never judge someone you don’t really know, turns out they might just surprise you.”

Will nodded and looked up, “what lesson should i have learned?” He asked, eyes wide and full of curiosity. “To never change.” Steve said, reaching over and pulling him close, “look, there’s the group.” Steve said, giving Will a small nudge, as the kids shouted his name out. Steve watched as they all broke into big smiles, unable to contain the relief and excitement. Breaking the peaceful moment with loud noise and laughter, everyone talking over each other.

Steve watched as they started the journey back to mikes, everyone sharing their story on what happened, and Dustin turned around, passing Steve the two sacks of candy. “Here.” He said, shoving them into Steve’s arms.

Oh yeah, next year I’m bringing a wagon… and maybe some leashes.

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#eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddiehalloween #stranger things fic

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scoobydoodean · 1 year ago

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Okay so in 1.03 Dead In The Water, there's this exchange Sam and Dean have at one point in regards to Lucas—the little boy who watched his dad drown, who Dean connects with during the episode:

DEAN Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died. SAM There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies. DEAN Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please.

And the last time I watched this episode, I went "Oh cool! A little Psychic!Sam Easter Egg." Right? Sam goes through the traumatic experience of losing Jess, and he's tapped into "whatever's out there" (the yellow eyed demon) and he's having premonitions about what he's going to do next. Which definitely makes a lot of sense.

But when I was gif-ing stuff from 1.03 today, I realized that... funnily enough, within the context of this episode we also have some fun stuff relating to the "slightly psychic Dean" posts that have gone around this year... Or if you prefer, Cassandra!Dean. Cassandra, in reference to the prophet in Greek myth, cursed by Apollo to utter true prophecies but never be believed.

Dean often knows when bad things are going to happen in Supernatural. He doesn't have visions—but he has "bad feelings" and makes predictions that turn out to be scarily accurate at times. Of course we can infer that Dean is just good at 1) reading people and 2) understanding how sequences of events tumble one by one in a row like so many dominoes. It's another sign of his incredible intelligence. But it IS fun to think about Dead In The Water as the first indication of Cassandra!Dean.

First, because Lucas has premonitions, and Lucas and Dean are paralleled and connect on an emotional level.

Dean and Lucas have similar traumatic childhood experiences. Both watched a parent die and both lost the ability to speak afterwards:

DEAN You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.

Dean is able to connect with Lucas through their shared traumatic experience. He's the only one who's able to get through to him—and after a short conversation and just drawing together for a while—much to his mom's shock. Dean is able to understand what Lucas is feeling without Lucas saying it.

Second, because Lucas has bad feelings that tell him the locations where the spirit will strike next, but no one listens to/believes him.

...Kind of like people usually don't listen to/believe Dean's bad feelings.

DEAN Anyway. Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.

Of course, this line is just Dean paralleling Lucas with himself and his own reasons for not speaking, but it must hit home, because Lucas begins communicating with Dean through drawings.

Further, despite Sam also knowing Lucas is having premonitions, when Lucas reacts with extreme distress to the idea of going home and clings to Dean desperately, Sam still... doesn't think it means anything. He thinks the case is over.

Third, Dean has a bad feeling that the case isn't over, and Sam doesn't believe him.

The sheriff had just threatened to arrest them if they stayed in town, so of course going back to town is a big deal. When Dean turns around based on a bad feeling, Sam thinks he's just being paranoid.

SAM But Dean, this job, I think it's over. DEAN I'm not so sure. SAM If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest. DEAN All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt? SAM But why would you think that? DEAN Because Lucas was really scared. SAM That's what this is about?

Dean sticks to his guns, and they arrive just in time to save Lucas's mother from drowning in a bathtub.

#1.03 #he is literally cassandra #pk rewatches spn number ?#parallels #season 1

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david-talks-sw · 2 years ago

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What's 'Star Wars' about?

A while ago I got an 'Ask' that concluded with "what is Star Wars about, if not the Jedi, right?" And weirdly enough... I have to disagree.

I mean... to me? Yes. Star Wars is about the Jedi. A Jedi-less, Sith-less, lightsaber-less Star Wars movie or series will struggle to get me on board (which is why I was surprised that I loved Andor so much).

But if you read everything George Lucas said, if you think about the Jedi's place in his two trilogies... they're not front and center, right?

Sure, there's Luke Skywalker... but he's a learner, in the Original Trilogy. Same goes for Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi, in the Prequels. They're going through character arcs.

Otherwise, the Jedi are either used as mentors to the protagonist...

... or to deliver exposition...

... but they're mostly vectors Lucas uses to present his thesis.

Functionally-speaking, the Jedi are important in that they embody the Buddhist philosophies the movie's themes are based on.

But when it comes to the plot, they're secondary. That's because the the themes of these films are bigger than the Jedi themselves.

So the question becomes... what's are the themes?

The primary goal of the Star Wars films is to inspire kids to start thinking outside the box and teach them a set of values and psychological motifs that have been passed down through mythology and fairy tales.

These values can be summed up in the dichotomy between greed and compassion / selfishness and selflessness / pleasure and joy.

We all have both aspects and need to strike a balance between the two. After all, being greedy ultimately comes from fear and being afraid can happen to all of us. Problem is, unchecked fear can lead to anger, hate and a whole lot of suffering.

The more selfish you are, the more you want things and the more you're afraid that you'll lose everything you have, you'll get angry when someone tries to take it and that will hurt everyone around you.

In other words, fear is the path to the tempting/addictive Dark Side.

Thus, seeing as we'll be inevitably tempted by the Dark Side and give in at some point (because nobody's perfect), we should aim to be as selfless and compassionate as possible for our own good... but also for the greater good, because we're all connected to a life energy. You can call it Qi or God; in Star Wars it's known as the Force.

As such, we all form a symbiotic circle and working with that in mind is better than putting ourselves first and draining from everything and everyone around us.

But we also need to be careful because there will be people who give in to that selfish side and will try to control everything. When the time comes, we must stand up for what's right.

So that's Lucas' thesis.

If I had to sum them up, the six movies illustrate it as follows:

The Prequel Trilogy is about the consequences of greed, explored through Anakin on a smaller scale and the Senate on a larger one.

The Original Trilogy shows the triumph of compassion, through Luke, Leia & Han and the Rebellion's fight against the Empire.

Lucas talked about it multiple times, the Prequels are about how Anakin becomes Darth Vader and how the Republic becomes the Empire, and in both those cases, it happens because they're greedy.

The Senate is greedy in the more classical sense. They could give a shit about "symbiosis", no they're taking bribes, letting corporations dictate policy, using loopholes to keep themselves in power and halting any meaningful progress out of fear that the new status quo will conflict with their own self-serving goals.

Anakin's greed manifests in a different way. He turns to the Dark Side because of his attachment. He wants to stop Padmé from dying... but not because he wants to save her, rather he wants to save himself from feeling the pain of loss again and will do anything to not have to live without her, her own wishes and the natural cycle of life and death be damned.

In both cases, they cave under pressure orchestrated by Palpatine, but nobody puts a gun to their head. They make a deliberate choice that comes from a selfish place, and neither one takes personal responsibility for it, they blame others, the Separatists in the case of the Senate and the Jedi in Anakin's case.

The Republic becomes an Empire with thunderous applause, betraying the people it was meant to protect.

And when faced between doing something he knows is right and giving in to his selfish desires...

... Anakin elects to do the latter, thus betraying his family and leaving the Force in darkness.

These selfish choices impact the galaxy as a whole, including the only characters in the trilogy who were doing their best to be compassionate and live in symbiosis: the Jedi, Padmé and Bail.

These champions of the Light Side are stuck playing catch-up or helplessly witnessing the events unfold, throughout the trilogy. They're playing by the rules and Palpatine uses this to his advantage.

Thus, as the galaxy tears itself apart because of Palpatine's manipulations, the Jedi and Bail are ignored and gradually weakened until they're either rendered irrelevant or killed.

A new order is born, one built on blood, lies and greed: the Empire.

But a new hope remains.

While before, the Jedi and people like Bail stood alone as everything around them became willfully corrupt... now, a Rebellion inspired by their legacy has banded together to overthrow the current order. But they don't fight for power or personal glory, they fight for altruistic, compassionate reasons. There's a sense of general responsibility that moves them, they're all doing their part.

On a larger scale, we focus on the Rebels, who are tired of seeing people suffer and decided this needs to stop. They have gone from being passive, to proactive.

On a more personal scale, we see the evolution of Luke, from naive farmer to a hero, and guess what? More and more selfish people - like Han or Lando - are inspired to join the Rebellion, after seeing the exploits of Luke, Leia, or even Ben.

It all culminates in the final film, wherein:

The Rebels band together with the Ewoks - literal teddy bears whom the Empire, in their arrogance, never even considered to be a threat - to destroy the Second Death Star and free the galaxy from imperial tyranny.

At the same time, Emperor Palpatine pressures Luke, who is tempted by the Dark Side like his father was.

But instead of giving in to his selfish desire to kill Darth Vader for all the horrors he's done...

... he finds the strength to rise above it, instead showing compassion for his father, which, in turn, inspires Anakin to do the same.

He faces a choice, like he did in Palpatine's office, two decades prior...

... and this time he chooses right.

Children teach you compassion. Anakin lets go of his fear and anger, and saves his son at the cost of his own life, finally bringing balance back to the Force.

Good triumphed over evil. Its champions achieved victory by being selfless, hopeful and fighting together / helping each other.

And that's it, that's how the movies thematically tie together.

As you can see, the Jedi aren't that directly impactful on the overall plot, because it revolves around Anakin, Luke and the respective factions/institutions around them.

But what the Jedi do bring to the table is their ability to teach and inspire others, both in-universe and out. They're spiritually impactful.

The Jedi are the epitome of compassion, and it's partially through them that George Lucas teaches his values to the audience.

#to be clear: Star Wars doesn't HAVE to be about all this #This is just me trying to summarize what Lucas said in all his interviews and speeches #The post-Lucas Star Wars transmedia franchise made the Jedi more central than they were originally meant to be; especially in the Prequels #You see this in interviews from current SW creators /writers #but also small stuff like renaming the Prequel era “Fall of the Jedi” when it was originally named the “Rise of the Empire” era #meta #george lucas #star wars #jedi order #the force #anakin skywalker #luke skywalker #prequel trilogy #original trilogy

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havecourage-darling · 1 year ago

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Oh my gosh ok so I thought of something for Eddie and you don’t necessarily have to write it you totally can if you want but I was thinking about one of the kids like older siblings is at Lucas’s game supporting him and realizes that Dustin, Mike and Erica isn’t there. After she sees them all coming out of hellfire she gets a little disappointed with them (cause she’s kinda a mom friend) and like kinda gets a little snippy with Eddie (who has known about her but never met her) and is like you really couldn’t change the date for one meeting, this was important all the while Eddie is just standing there stunned with heart eyes

I don’t know why this just popped into my head but I had to tell somebody

A/N: First, I am so sorry for taking forever to get to this. Second, this might not have been what you had in mind but I hope you like it anyway anon! Third, this really didn't need to be this long but, yolo

wc: 3.5k

warnings: none

It was a bright and early afternoon when Steve Harrington’s bad luck streak had finally broken. You’d watched, hiding next to Robin in the documentary section, as Steve asked out the pretty blonde to the championship game. Robin inhaled sharply, expression twisting sympathetically, when blondie blinked at him for a beat but you knew. Steve was one of your oldest friends and despite abdicating the throne, you knew the effect Harrington had on a girl – as gross as he was.

“Holy shit, Harrington I can’t believe she actually showed,” you said out of the corner of your mouth.

It was a solid indication that Steve was actually more nervous than he looked because he hadn’t reacted to your teasing. Instead, he shot you a wide-eyed look and bobbed his head. “Right?” With an anxious swipe through his hair, he glanced at you.

Answering his non-verbal question, you nodded. “It looks perfect as always.” Steve’s hair barely obeyed the laws of physics. Blondie leaned across Steve and waved.

“It’s nice to meet you!” She beamed. “Are you a senior?”

“Oh no,” you said, “I’m a freshman at Indiana State. Go Lions!”

“That’s so cute!” She said and you furrowed your brows. Was it? You could tell she wasn’t being malicious but you weren’t sure where she was going with it.

“Yeah,” you said, laughing, “super cute!” Blondie laughed, hair shaking as she did and you glanced at Steve. Already knowing, he kicked your calf and you swallowed your own laughter.

Nancy pointed at the court, fingers splaying out and the photographer nodded, hanging onto her every word. Her head swiveled to the crowd and, somehow, she’d caught your gaze. Waving, smile broadening, she rolled her eyes when you waved back. You knew she missed Jonathan – he wouldn’t have needed her instructions and would’ve just known.

“Where’s Lucas?” You asked, trying to glance over the jumping cheerleader’s heads to get a good look at the line up.

Steve motioned to the end of the bench, where Lucas stood searching the bleachers in front of you for someone. You followed his lead and realized you couldn’t spot the familiar redhead he was undoubtedly looking for. Heart squeezing a bit, you knew the likelihood of Max showing up was close to slim. She’d retreated into herself after El had left and despite your weekly visits to her trailer – you didn’t want to push too hard.

“Wait,” you said, mostly to yourself, “where’s Dustin?”

Searching out the familiar set of curls, you felt panic start to climb up your spine. Where was Mike? Steve’s warm hand grabbed at your wrist and pulled you to the surface. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his own voice anxious.

“The guys, Dustin and Mike, they’re not here,” you whispered, “what if something happened to them?”

Steve’s furrowed brows smoothed and he exhaled. “Oh, don’t worry they’re fine. I think they had their little game finale or whatever tonight. Henderson tried to rope me in as a substitute for Lucas.”

“Substitute?” You echoed, forcing a wide smile onto your face when Lucas saw you and Steve. His entire expression shifted, excitement and relief at the sight of you two. You waved, lifting your small sign that Robin had helped you paint.

‘DUNK IT! GO #8!’

Lucas beamed at you, waving wildly up at you two. Steve shot him a thumbs up before he started some drills.

Dustin and Mike wouldn’t have ditched Lucas’ game for a campaign, would they? Especially knowing that he’d already be hurt at the fact that Max wasn’t going to show up. No…a flash of long curly hair scampered across your mind. The leader of their new club…the guy Steve was obviously jealous of. Eddie Munson, you snapped your fingers, remembering.

Dustin had shown you photos of the club that Nancy had taken, a proud beam across his face. You knew Dustin was just excited to have more friends but, to give Steve some credit, he did talk about Munson an awful lot. You still hadn’t met him, but you had a brief memory of seeing him in the hallways sometimes, hair much shorter.

But you knew, then, if Munson had refused to move the campaign – there was no way Dustin or Mike would stand up against him. Especially not out of fear that they’d be kicked out the club. It was all they talked about. Shit, you’d driven Dustin to the town over so he could find just the right color for his figurine.

Lucas glanced up again, gaze desperate, and your heart broke.

“Everyone now please rise for our national anthem. Singing for us tonight, we have a very special guest tonight. All the way from Nashville, our very own – Tammy Thompson!” Your jaw dropped, exchanging gazes with Steve before you both whipped around to find Robin.

Shocked, you watched dumbly as Tammy strutted up to the mic and started to sing off key. Robin’s eyes were wide and you heard Steve mutter, “Muppet.” You couldn’t hold back your laughter, Brenda turning to look at you both at the sound.

“Wow, she sounds amazing, doesn’t she?” She asked, tone awed.

Steve’s hand gripped your wrist tightly, both of you clearing your throats in a desperate attempt not to laugh.

You watched Lucas’ leg shake as he stood near the benches, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He was nervous. Your chest tightened. Please let him play. You plead the universe, crossing your fingers. He needs a win.

/////

“I can’t believe it,” you said, getting choked up again. Lucas beamed under everyone’s attention, but you tucked him into your side, arm squeezing his shoulders. “Lucas, you were amazing!”

“Thanks,” he said, grinning when Jason Carver shoved him excitedly. ‘Party at Benny’s boys!’ The group of morons shuffled off towards a nearby car and you rolled your eyes. Lucas caught your half-scoff and winced. “I know you don’t like them…”

“Hey, whoever you hang out with is not my decision, just – be careful, yeah?” You glanced after Carver and remembered what it was like being in Lucas’ place. “That crowd tends to want to mold you after them and you’re already your own person. A person I really like. Don’t let them try to shove you into some cookie cutter box.”

Lucas smiled, pleased, and looked down at his sneakers. “Thanks. It…really means a lot to me that you guys showed. I know you go to everyone’s stuff, you and Steve, but-”

“Hey, you’ll always have me in your corner, all of you do,” you assured him, your mind drifting to the rest of the party. Will would’ve showed, you thought, smiling at the reminder of the weekly call you had coming up.

Before either of you could say anything else, a loud crash caught your attention.

You watched a group of people rush out the double doors, excited and laughing with each other. Easily picking out Dustin’s curly hair, you glanced back at Lucas’ frozen expression.

Emotions flashing, you opened your mouth to try and do damage control but one of his teammates smacked into his side. “Sinclair, come on! You’re riding with us.” Lucas’ expression pulled into a smile quickly, but it was too late. You’d seen underneath it. Anger building in your chest, it bubbled to the point of discomfort.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you shook him. “Do not drink and drive, Lucas Sinclair I’ll rip your spine out – you hear me? And don’t take any pills,” you said, shooting him a withering glare. His shoulders were still slumped but he nodded, his smile half-hearted. “Alright, if you need me for a ride or for help, you call me.”

“I will, thanks…for coming,” he said slowly, jogging off without a second glance. Making sure he’d disappeared around the corner towards the other jocks, you whipped around on your heel and stomped over to the loitering group.

As you got within earshot you saw Mike’s eyes drift over to you. He smiled, hand coming up, but immediately froze when he saw your expression. “Oh fuck,” he muttered, and Dustin stopped his excited jumping just in time for you to punch him in the shoulder.

“Ouch, what the fuuu- oh, hey there Widow,” he smiled, a little confused, “what are you doing here?”

///

Eddie raised his brows, watching Dustin stumble as you punched him in the shoulder. Wincing, he knew that had to have hurt. He’d almost instinctually stepped in but Henderson’s expression brightened, smile widening, and he figured you were safe enough.

“Shit,” Eddie heard Mike mutter, watching him take a step behind Dustin at the sight of your furious expression.

“Hi Widow,” Erica said, expression lighting up when you paused your anger and shot her a smile.

Ah, so this was the infamous Widow. Henderson and Wheeler had nothing but praises for Harrington and you. Eddie knew Harrington, because who didn’t? He had his reservations but Eddie was nothing if not fair. He’d save them for the moment he actually met King Steve – not that he thought that would be any time soon. But you? He’d heard all about you.

“What am I doing here?” You echoed, one of your hands dropping, the other flying through the air. “What the hell are you doing?”

Eddie was a little surprised with how intrigued he was.

Dustin looked back at Mike, surprised to see him so far away. “Uh, we had a campaign. Oh, this is Eddie!” Dustin’s hand came out towards Eddie – who waited less than a millisecond to step forward.

“If I may,” Eddie started, wanting to make a good impression on Dustin’s hot friend. How the hell did Henderson even know you?

You, however, barely spared him a glance. “You may not,” you snapped, turning back to the boys. Eddie’s voice died in his throat, blinking at how easily you’d dismissed him. Interest flared to life in his chest, because of course it did. “What the hell guys? You missed the championship game?”

The newfound interest waned. Ah, you were jock. He probably didn’t recognize you because you’d run with the popular crowds. Especially if you knew Harrington.

Dustin and Mike, however, withered like plants who’d been kept in the shade for too long. “It was The Cult of Vecna!” Dustin said, voice going high. Eddie’s eyes darted over to you, where he watched – fascinated – as your eye twitched.

“I don’t care if it was the goddamn reckoning. We don’t abandon our friends! That’s the first rule of the party!” You shouted.

“Actually, the first rule is no girls,” Mike muttered and you turned your sole attention onto him and he winced. “Not that – we’re not…happy to have you. Of course we are! You’ve been there since the beginning almost. And Nancy. And Robin. Obviously. But this campaign has been going on for weeks and and and…we couldn’t postpone! We tried!”

Eddie watched you soften and his interest reared its head again. You had a soft spot for the freshmen. Why?

“You knew Max wasn’t going to show,” you said, quieter, “you knew how important this was for him.”

The guilt that shot across their faces was clear. “He was going to be on the bench!” Dustin said, hands coming up.

Anger flickered to life in your eyes again. “Yeah?” You asked, tone incredulous. “Well, he shot the winning basket. You should’ve seen his face when he looked up and saw you guys weren’t there.”

Dustin and Mike ducked their heads, expressions sheepish, and Eddie was impressed. You really were laying it on thick.

“I’m not mad,” you said, and Eddie could see you rearing back for the killing strike, “I’m just really disappointed in you two.”

Their shoulders slumped, eyes on the floor, and Eddie couldn’t help but whistle. You were playing them like a fiddle. Unfortunately, it seemed to catch your attention and your sharp eyes turned to him.

“And you!”

Eddie pointed at himself, taking a small step back now that your fury was turned to him. “Me?” Interest shot down his spine. Jesus, what was with him with the hot and scary ones?

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? I know campaigns take time to plan out, I know that!” Eddie blinked, caught off guard at the respect he wasn’t expecting. “But he’s a kid, they’re all kids. You couldn’t have moved it twenty-four hours so that they could go watch his game? Out of what? Jealousy? Some sort of misguided pettiness because the popular kids were mean to you? They’re mean to everyone! That’s what they do! They almost broke my nose senior year. Instead of teaching them to rise above it, you stoop to their level? Ugh, grow up. God, this whole town is such a cliché!”

Dustin looked panicked, Mike had a hand over his eyes, and Gareth turned to him, eyes wide and jaw dropped. Eddie was also shocked, not sure where to start. “I think-”

“Seriously,” you snapped, talking over him again, eyes lighting up with an anger that was most appealing. The flash of your eyes reminded him of a harpy – in the most flattering of ways. In fact, Eddie’s knees went a little weak, his chest unfurling with something that was way too close to blatant interest.

Oh, who was he kidding? He’d give all his month’s tips to be able to sink his teeth into the tendon by your neck. It strained at him, taunting him, as you heaved a guilt trip onto him. Unfortunately for you, he was immune to them. So, it left him a few seconds to drag his gaze up and down your body.

“Can I speak now?” He asked, not wanting to interrupt another tirade, he was getting fond of those at this point.

You inhaled deeply, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yes.”

“Why do they call you Widow?” He asked. “Is it because you like spiders?”

If you did, he wouldn’t mind, Eddie decided. He wasn’t particularly fond of them himself but he was also an acquired taste so what did he know?

The withering glare you shot him went straight to his chest and curled around his ribcage. Eddie rubbed his sternum, like that could stop the ridiculous seed of interest from planting itself deep within his skin.

“No,” you said, offering no further explanation. “Why do they call you the Freak? Is it because you’re really Satan Worshippers?”

The way your entire face twisted with regret, and guilt swam into your eyes, Eddie knew you hadn’t meant it. In fact, he already felt a smile growing at his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you said immediately, “that was a low blow, I’m just – no, it’s no excuse. I know you get shit from other people. You don’t need it from me, especially not since I know it’s not – it’s not that.”

Instead of ducking down to look at the floor, you met his gaze straight on for the first time since stomping up to the group of them. Eddie sighed and you’d clearly taken it as a reaction to your barbed reply because you began to wring your hands together. In reality, Eddie wanted to slap his stupid chest. He always did this.

Barely five minutes had passed and the interest dug deeper and rooted around for its new home. The vines grew, twirling around his veins, and reaching towards his chest. Heart, already on his sleeve, skipped a beat as you offered up a sincere apology, Eddie nodded. “No harm done,” he said, seizing the chance to bow, “Eddie Munson at your service. Atheist by the way.”

You nodded, quickly skirting your gaze back to the two boys but Eddie was stunned into silence when he caught the flash of interest in them. Was he still high on the success of the campaign or were you actually glancing back at him?

“I hope you know how shitty this was, Steve had a date and he brought her here instead of missing it,” you said.

Dustin snorted. “Steve’s just cheap and wanted an easy date night.”

Eddie saw you bite your cheek and he winced, knowing it must’ve hurt. You made a valiant attempt to hide it, but the laughter had already made it to your eyes. It softened your face entirely and his heart stirred awake. Jesus, what magic did you wield that you had captured his attention so thoroughly?

“Still,” you insisted, one last glare at them. Turning to Erica she glanced up at you, smile crooked and you softened. Lifting your arm, she scurried over to you and you draped it across her shoulders. “I won’t even waste my breath trying to straighten you out. You want a ride home?”

“Thanks Widow,” she said, lifting her nose up at the other two. You must be the real deal if you had little Sinclair’s approval. He’d met her a few hours ago even Eddie knew she was a tough nut to crack. Clearly, not for you.

Mike, proving he’d lost most of his brain power during the campaign, stepped forward to follow and you shot him a glare that had Eddie wincing “Uh, no. My offer extends to her only.” He frowned and Eddie heard a very Jeff sounding laugh.

You started to walk away, and Eddie’s eyes dipped – he couldn’t control it! - when you stopped and sighed a few feet away. Eddie startled, eyes raising quickly from your ass to your eyes and winced when realizing you had your gaze directed at him. Eyeing him, Eddie felt his neck flush as your eyes trailed up his body. What the fuck? Since when did he get shy?

“Can you give them a ride home?” You asked. “It’s dark and I don’t want them riding their bikes alone.”

They two started to protest, glancing at Eddie warily, but another glare from you shut them up. Eddie was about start a tirade, asking what it was in for him – a date he hoped – when you spoke up again.

“Please,” you said, barely audible. Eddie was helpless to do anything but nod, fingers itching to see if he could play you as well as his guitar. He just needed a chance.

Somehow, his brain spurred to life before he realized. “Yeah, Widow,” he said, barely containing the urge to fist pump at the sight of your small amused smile, “I can get the nerds home.”

“Hey!”

Eddie was wholly unprepared for the grin that you shot at him. If your fury had sparked interest in him, your smile almost made his knees give way. Bats fluttering around in his small intestine, wreaking havoc, he managed to smile back at you.

“Thanks Munson,” you said, disappearing into the crowded parking lot after one last look.

No one spoke for a moment, the air stilling as Eddie reeled from the way his entire world had shifted in two seconds.

“I’ve never seen Eddie blush,” Dustin whispered loudly.

At that, Eddie snapped. “I’m not blushing!”

“Are you really going to give us a ride?” Wheeler asked meekly, eyes going towards the bike stand.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I’ll give you a ride, hurry up.” He’d use this to his advantage. He knew his chances were slim to none but even he wasn’t that stupid to not even try. “So, what’s your hot friend’s deal?”

The two idiots groaned, face twisted into disgust, but Eddie ignored them. He wanted to know everything he could about you.

///

“Stop moving so much!” You hissed, anxiety practically spilling out of every pore in your body.

Eddie whined, his nose scrunching as he shut his eyes tightly. “I’m just so itchy,” he complained, the skin around his bandages bright red.

“They come off soon, just wait a little bit more,” you said, gesturing to the doctor’s office you were currently in. “We’re next I think.”

Grunting, Eddie threw his head back and winced when it collided too loudly with the wall. You rolled your eyes and brought your hand up to check for a bump. “You’re a child.”

Sticking out his tongue, he leaned into your touch like a puppy and you rolled your eyes. You’d known him less than a month but just like Robin – trauma bonded people faster than most things.

“I can see your fingers,” you said, smacking his hand away from the larger bandage by his clavicle. The demobats had really done some damage but you’d been there when the ER doctor had clearly said to keep the stitches dry, clean, and intact. “You’re gonna make it worse!”

“Distract me, please, I feel like I’m going to crawl out my skin,” he begged.

Without thinking twice, you pressed your lips to his for a second. You bit back your smile as he blinked at you, eyes glazed over. “Was that enough of a distraction?” You asked, smile threatening to break through.

“Uh, I might need a second try to make sure,” he said faintly and you only just managed to not smack his shoulder.

“Pervert.”

Eddie’s brows flew up into his overgrown bangs. “Who just kissed who?”

You hummed, ignoring him, and went back to flipping through your magazine.

“Can I ask you something?”

Pulse pounding, you kept your eyes on the article in front of you. “What?”

“Why do they call you Widow?” Eddie asked, surprising you.

Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you shrugged. “Dustin started it,” you sighed.

“He always does,” Eddie said, smile growing wider.

“After Natalia Romanoff. The Black Widow?”

“The spy and assassin?”

“Yeah,” you smirked, memories flashing through your mind, “I was really good at killing demogorgons. Plus, once actual Russians joined the picture, even I couldn’t deny that it was kind of perfect.”

“Cool, my girlfriend’s nickname is after a Marvel superhero.”

The word girlfriend brought your brain to a sudden halt and you whipped around to look at him. He was grinning, eyes mischievous, and you sputtered.

“Edward Munson?” A nurse called out. “Follow me.”

“Come on,” Eddie said, threading your fingers together. “We’ll talk about where our first date will be on the ride home.”

First date? You blinked at him, letting him lead you towards the exam room.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #tumblr requests

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