#my memories of my mother being her locking me in my room at night and 'disciplining' us with anything nearby and telling me not to come home

[starberryes]

don't you (forget about me) | steve harrington x reader

“Oh, great, she’s here,” Steve says, stepping away from the door.  "First of all, Harrington," You scoff, glaring at that mop of hair with all the rage you can muster. "I have a name. Second of all, we are talking here—” Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever—" "You did not just roll your eyes at me—” Dustin sighs. "Here they go." (or: You've always thought Steve Harrington was a weirdo. When you find out you might be in terrible danger, he might be just what you need.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader (she/her pronouns used), lots of henderson siblings bonding <3

words: 13.9k

a/n: gif by @dailysteveharrington. thank you all for being patient and i hope you all like it<3 i loved this season and i love steve so i hope you enjoy this lil enemies to lovers fic. this fic is a one shot, but let me know if you'd like a sequel once vol 2 is out bc its a bit of an open, ambiguous ending ;) also some fun facts before this fic starts: dustin's dad appears at will's funeral in s1 and there are several theories about him-- officially, he and dustin's mother are divorced in canon. i'll explore that in this fic. ST4 SPOILERS. this is set in season 4 ep 3 "the monster and the superhero" and follows vol 1 canon also sorry if this doesnt follow canon pretty well i mostly did it from memory cause the wiki still isnt fully updated 💀

disclaimer: this fic discusses the topic of an absent parent, please proceed with caution if this is hurtful to you. also warning for canon typical violence and cursing. english is not my first language so please let me know if there are any mistakes.

📼 NOW PLAYING: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Mind

Your mother had always been slightly overbearing and fearful, but the murder of Chrissy Cunnigham you think might actually kill her. Or at least will force her to lock you in your bedroom and flush the key down the toilet.

“You can’t go anywhere without telling me,” your mother tells you over breakfast, worriedly overcooking her bacon. “You hear me? I don’t want you running around town without me knowing. Or better yet, don’t go anywhere at all!”

You glare at Dustin’s chair, where your brother is munching on toast and eggs, hoping your mother takes the hint. She does, and so she shakes her head and says, “Dustin’s different.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Maybe this killer has a thing for pretty girls,” your mother shakes her head, shivering. “Chrissy Cunningham was such a nice and pretty girl, right your age.”

“You don’t know what that killer was thinking!” You groan. “Why can Dustin leave but I can’t?!”

“Dustin’s not an eighteen year old girl with an easily breakable neck.”

“He’s easier to man-handle!”

Dustin frowns, finally looking up from his breakfast. “I’m not!”

”Besides, do you even know where he was last night?” You ignore your brother’s protests, choosing to point at him as he scoffs in offense. “I bet you don’t, because he’s always sneaking out!”

“I’m not always sneaking out!”

“I try my best with you, Dusty,” she sighs, finally sitting down. “But your sister is right, you’re difficult to keep track of. You’re always running around, like those little legs have minds of their own.” She points the spoon she was using for her coffee at your face. “Don’t you throw that in my face, (Y/N).”

“Mom, you’re right,” you nod, sipping your orange juice, trying to appeal to her soft spot. “He is difficult to keep track off, and there’s a dangerous killer on the loose. How about I keep track of him? Make sure he’s not getting into any trouble, hm? I’ll make sure we’re always safe, together.”

Of course, you were planning on bolting as soon as you were out of your mom’s sight. You mom’s cat Tews meows somewhere across the room, as if he knows not to trust you. That damned furball.

“What the fuck? No!”

“Dusty! Language.”

“Mom,” Dustin says, exasperated. “I don’t need a babysitter. Much less a babysitter that’s also my annoying older sister.”

“No, you have Steve Harrington for that,” you mutter under your breath, and Dustin manages to kick you under the table. You glare at your little brother, then turn to address your mom once again. “I promise we’ll stay together. I know— no, I understand that it’s scary out there right now, but I can take care of myself. And Dustin. You have to trust me.”

“I trust you. It’s the murderer I don’t trust.”

“Mom—”

“Let me finish,” she stares pointedly at you, and you promptly shut up. “I don’t want you two sneaking out. But, it’ll make me feel better if the both of you are together.”

Dustin covers his face with his hands. “Shit.”

“Yes!” You squeal. You stick out your tongue at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Guess you’re stuck with me, Dusty.”

“Screw you.”

“Dusty, it’ll be fun. (Y/N), don’t taunt your little brother,” your mom scolds both of you into silence. “It’ll be like old times, won’t it? Aw, you two used to be thick as thieves back then.”

Dustin sighs, picking at his toast absent-mindedly. “Was there a murderer on the loose back then too?”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

After breakfast, you give Dustin a ride until you arrive in a neighborhood that is most definitely not Lucas Sinclair’s like he told you it would be. You turn to stare at your brother before you unlock the car’s door, confused.

“Where are we?”

Dustin looks at your shoes. “I told you. Lucas’s.”

“Okay, you might lie to me whenever you want, just not to my actual face, Dustin.” You roll your eyes, and he mirrors you. “Seriously, why did you make me come all the way down here?”

“Why do you care?”

“I know we’re doing this to get mom off our backs, but there is actually a killer on the loose,” you say. “So, excuse me if I’m also a little wary about dropping you off at unknown locations, or whatever.”

“Fine,” Dustin sighs. “I’m here to see Max and Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Harrington.”

You blink at him. “Fucking Steve Harrington?”

“See?” Dustin rolls his eyes again. “This is why I didn’t tell you! You are extremely uncool about Steve, you know.”

“I’m not!” You try not to dwell about how defensive you sound even to yourself. “I’m extremely cool about him. I’m extremely cool about the fact you hang out with that douchebag with stupid hair.”

“He’s not a douchebag! I don’t get why you hate him so much.”

Because you remember him and his friends making fun of you all throughout High School, his sneering and stupid stares. Like your brother, you’d never fit in— you never liked going to parties or drinking and you never made an effort to be liked by him and his group of popular dorks, instead you spent most of your days in the library, reading, hiding from Steve and his friends. Whatever honorable things Dustin saw in Steve Harrington you think he might have imagined them.

Now, in your last year of High School and with Steve becoming a social pariah, you don’t have to hide the fact that you still dislike Steve as much as you did back when he was still King Steve. Steve, for however much Dustin insists that he’s changed, upon first meeting you had tried to sweet talk you as if he didn’t know who you were. And you had barely kept it together enough to tell him to fuck off. Ever since then, you and Steve Harrington had hated each other’s guts. Your mutual dislike of each other is not lost on Dustin, who continues to mostly ignore it and tiptoe around it as best as he can.

“He’s not not a douchebag,” You murmur. “Why is he hanging out with two fourteen year olds during spring break? Isn’t the barf bag, like, supposed to be in college, going to frat parties, having a life of his own?”

Dustin doesn’t appreciate the way you talk about him, clearly, but he still replies, albeit unhappily. “He’s helping me with something.”

“With what?”

Before Dustin can respond, someone knocks on Dustin’s window. You jump, surprised, but it’s just Steve and Dustin’s friend redhead Max, looking bored and impatient. You groan and reach over Dustin’s seat to roll the window down.

“Do you mind?” You say to Steve. “We’re talking.”

“Oh, great, she’s here,” Steve says, stepping away from the door. 

"First of all, Harrington," You scoff, glaring at that mop of hair with all the rage you can muster. You ignore Dustin’s groan. "I have a name. Second of all, we are talking here—”

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever—"

"You did not just roll your eyes at me—”

Dustin sighs. "Here they go."

“I did not roll my eyes—”

“You absolutely did!”

“There was something in my eyes.”

“That something was lies!”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve finally throws his arms up in exasperation and turns to your brother, ignoring your insults. “You done talking to your lovely sister there, Henderson? We got a counselor to see.”

“What?” You frown at Dustin, irritation immediately melting into concern. “What’s he talking about?”

“Steve, shut your mouth,” Dustin glares at Steve, who shrugs and finally steps away from the car. “Nothing, (Y/N), seriously. See you later?”

“No.” You shake your head. “What does he mean a counselor? Are you seeing Ms Kelly?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise. It’s—” he looks like he’s scrambling to think of an excuse, then his eyes land on Max. Something flashes across her face and she speaks next.

“It’s for me.” she says, “Chrissy died in my neighborhood.”

“She’s kind of freaking out,” Dustin says, and when you finally turn to look at Max you realize how tense she is, her shoulders square, with her lips forming a straight line.

“Oh. That sucks. Hey, Max.”

“Hey,” she greets, awkwardly. It’s part of her charm, you think.

“See?” Dustin asks. “Can I go now?”

You nod, a little shaken up for some reason. Maybe Chrissy’s murder still made you feel slightly ill, and the mention of it made you feel even worse. You couldn’t imagine what Max might be going through. It didn’t help that they had found another body this morning, either. 

“Ye— yeah. Sorry. I hope everything’s alright, Max.”

“Yeah,” she nods.

Dustin nods to the door. “Can you unlock the car, then?”

You wordlessly comply, and as your little brother steps out of your mom’s blue Ford Cortina, you talk to Max once again. “Ms Kelly is great help. I’m sure she’ll make you feel better. She really helped me this year, you know, she’s a great listener.”

“Yeah, I know,” Max says. “I’ve been thinking about seeing her for a while, a—actually. I’ve heard she’s well… you know… fine, or whatever.”

“Hey, there’s no shame in that,” you shrug. “Lots of people go to see Ms Kelly… Actually, now that you mention it, Fred Benson, the guy they found this morning, was seeing Ms Kelly too. And Chrissy Cunningham.”

Dustin pauses before closing the car door. “What do you mean?”

You blink, slightly confused as to why you’d even bring it up. “I’ve seen them in Ms Kelly’s office before. I’m not sure why I’m even mentioning it, sorry.”

“No, no, (Y/N), that’s…” Dustin says, then doesn’t finish. “You’ve been seeing Ms Kelly too?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a little ashamed. You think about telling Dustin about everything that’s been going on, the nightmares, the guilt— but then you glance at his friends looking expectantly at him and cower. So you don’t continue.

It’s Steve who breaks the silence. “Henderson, chop chop, let’s go.”

“I’ll see you at home?” Dustin says, a little softer.

“Yeah, yeah. I was gonna go to Dinah’s near Ave Park, but do you think you’ll need a ride later?”

“Steve’s got his car,” he says. “Don’t wait up, okay?”

You nod, watching him leave.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

It’s around eight PM, and Dinah is painting her toenails as you skim through one of her books, the soft hum of the TV in the background, entering through the open bedroom door. Her parents are watching the news, the news anchors are urging people to stay home and to lock their doors to be safe of this new serial killer.

Dinah’s house is your usual hangout spot beside your own. You don’t have many other friends, and there’s only so many times you can force Dustin to watch The Breakfast Club before he’s fighting you for the remote.

“It was all Matty could talk about,” Dinah continues to rant. “I can’t stand this murder talk any longer! I can only hear about Chrissy Cunningham’s missing eyeballs so many times, (Y/N), it’s way too fucking gruesome, but it’s all everyone in this town seems to care about.”

“It’s a pretty pressing issue,” when Dinah glares, you shrug. “I’m just saying! You know I agree with you. I don’t want to hear about it anymore.”

“Chrissy was always so nice, wasn’t she?” Dinah shakes her head, putting her nail polish back in her nightstand, then wraps her arms around her legs, hugging herself. “And Fred had a future in front of him. It’s so unfair. They had a family that loved them.”

“Dinah, I really don’t wanna talk about it,” you say, feeling yourself shiver. You don’t want to think about poor Fred or Chrissy, or the families mourning them. You try to focus on the book in your hands, but the words start blurring together, becoming harder and harder to read. 

You blink, confused, then realize Dinah is still talking.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? I think about their dads too. Chrissy’s dad was crying so much at her wake. Do you think your dad would ever cry for you like that?”

You finally snap to look back at your friend. She’s staring at you like you’re small, like an insect she could stomp on. You’ve never seen her black eyes seem so soulless, so empty.

“Maybe they’ll be tears of joy, don’t you think? After all, weren’t you the one who made him walk away?” She tilts her head to the side, a sneer forming in her lips. “They could be a family without you.”

There’s something wrong in Dinah’s eyes. There’s something wrong about all of this, but you can’t point to what, where are you, when, why…what…?

When you blink, Dinah’s eyes look normal again. 

“(Y/N),” She asks, frowning. “Are you there?”

You shake your head. What the fuck was all that? 

“What?”

“You were staring at me like you weren’t all here,” she explains, grimacing. “Where did you go just now?”

“Sorry…” When you speak you feel a dull ache around your temple, and you lift a hand to rest against it, trying to soothe the pain aimlessly. “I think I need some painkillers or something, my head’s killing me.”

“Again?” 

“Yeah,” even before spring break you had confided in your friend about the headaches and the nightmares— you never told her why, but she at least knew you were seeing Ms Kelly. 

Dinah stands up, careful not to stain the carpet with her fresh black nail polish. “I’ll ask my dad for some Tylenol. Stay here, I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before Dinah is out the door she’s interrupted by the doorbell, which rings once, twice, three times and more. Dinah frowns, as her dad yells I’m coming, Jesus!

“Someone’s impatient…” you murmur, hand still resting on your temple.

“Hey,” Dinah, who has always had great hearing, says. “I think it’s your brother.”

You frown, and when Dinah’s father confirms it’s your brother by yelling out that It’s little Henderson!, you and Dinah head downstairs to find a heavy breathing Dustin, Max, Lucas and even Steve Harrington, looking as if they just ran a marathon.

Dustin’s eyes land on you. “(Y/N)!”

“Dustin?” you say, “What are you doing here? You need a ride ho—?”

Dustin runs to hug you by the waist, almost knocking the air out of you.

“Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Is your nose bleeding? Do you feel—?”

“Woah, Dustin,” you don’t know what to do with your hands— you and Dustin hadn’t hugged since he turned twelve and he and you both deemed it lame. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Dustin finally lets go of your waist to grab you by the face and inspect it properly. He roughly pulls your face down and tries to pull up your nose to look at your nostrils. “No nosebleed yet?”

Steve tries to stop him. “Dustin, buddy—”

Lucas adds a sustancial, “Dude.”

“Dustin!” you push his hands off your face, feeling your cheeks heat up when you notice everyone looking at you. “What the hell are you doing?”

Your brother opens his mouth to speak, but then seems to notice Dinah behind you and seems to think better of it. “We need to talk,” he says instead, “Like, right now.”

“Right now?” You ask. “I already told Dinah’s mom I’m staying for dinner. Dustin, what the hell is going on with you?”

Dinah clears her throat. “I’m… just gonna go get that Tylenol.”

“Tylenol?” Dustin asks when she walks away. “What for?”

“I have a headache.”

“Shit,” Max says, still by the door frame with Lucas and Steve.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dustin curses, deep in thought. “It’s already started.”

“What?” You ask as Dustin starts pacing back and forth.

“We need to find out how to stop this right fucking now,” Dustin starts pacing back and forth. “Think, everyone.”

“Maybe Robin and Nancy found something in the library,” Steve offers.

“Yeah,” Lucas nods. “C’mon, man. Let’s go find them.”

“Okay, yeah. Okay, okay.” Dustin calms himself down, manages to stop his pacing. “Let’s go wait for them at the Wheeler’s. (Y/N), let’s go.”

You throw your hands up in disbelief.  “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

“(Y/N),” Dustin says, his voice unfaltering. Dustin is never serious about much, and this renders you speechless. “I need you to listen to me for once in your goddamn life, okay? We need to go. Now.”

“Okay, Jesus,” you say finally. “Dinah’s mom is making Lasagna so this better be worth it, Dustin.”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

On the way to Nancy Wheeler’s house, you learn two things: One, Dustin knows where a serial killer might be hiding, and two, your brother thinks you’re cursed and are going to die in, give or take, twenty four hours.

You glare at Steve Harrington in the rearview mirror. “What the fuck have you been giving him?”

“I’m serious!” Dustin yells. “I knew you wouldn’t fucking believe me.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, because he looks genuinely frustrated, but a second dimension and a supervillain? Does your brother think you’re stupid? Just how many movies has he been watching? “I just think D&D might actually be getting to your head, Dustin. There’s no way what you just told me is real.”

“Lucas and Max know it’s real too!”

Both of them nod furiously.

“Are the other two fourteen year olds your only source?”

“Steve too!”

Steve winks at you through the rearview mirror.

“Even worse,” you say.

“Listen,” Lucas tries to reason when Dustin groans in frustration, cursing under his breath at you. “I know this sounds absolutely crazy, I wouldn’t believe it either. But I promise you it’s all true, and if we don’t do something soon about it you’ll end up like Chrissy and Fred.”

An involuntary chill runs down your spine every time you think about them. 

“Guys,” you say, slowly, “I know things are scary right now, but I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for the murders besides a demon supervillain.”

“I didn’t believe it at first either,” Max shakes her head. “Not until I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Didn’t Ms Kelly’s file say the others who were cursed were also having hallucinations?” Steve asks the kids, looking for a place to park. “So, have you gotten any weird visions lately?”

Hallucinations? You think back, but can’t seem to pinpoint anything similar to that. Except tonight at Dinah’s place, before Dustin and the rest had rung the doorbell. Suddenly you grow a little paler, uncomfortable at the memory being brought back. That had been weird, but you were exhausted and knowing a serial killer, Eddie Munson, who apparently your brother knew, was out there still was making you restless.

“I wouldn’t really call them visions,” you murmur.

“Shit,” Dustin breathes, looking at you with wide eyes. “It’s spreading faster.”

“Listen, Dustin, I may be going through some shit lately, but I promise you I’m okay. I just need some painkillers for my head, seriously.”

“(Y/N)!” Your brother takes you by the shoulders and shakes you. “Your life is in imminent danger! You don’t need painkillers!”

“I do if you keep shaking me like a ragdoll!”

“Listen,” Lucas says, grabbing Dustin and prying him off you despite his protests. “Just stay with us tonight, okay? We’ll sleep at the Wheeler’s and it’ll make Dustin feel better, right? We’re all tired.”

“Dude—”

Lucas cuts Dustin off and whispers, “We’ll wait for what Nancy and Robin have to say and then figure out how to convince her later, yeah?”

Dustin sighs. “This was so much easier when El had her powers.”

“So yeah? You’ll stay the night?” Lucas asks, hopeful.

You see all three of the kids staring at you and cave in. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” You say, at the same time Steve parks right in front of the Wheeler residence. Before you can even step out of the car another car pulls over by the garage and Nancy Wheeler and another girl you don’t know step out of it.

“Nance, Robin!” Steve exclaims as he stops the car and steps out. “Had fun at the library? I sure didn’t.”

“It went well, I think—”

“We have a situation,” Dustin is quick to interrupt, reaching over your space and popping his head out from the open window. “It’s my sister. We think Vecna cursed her.”

“Whatever that means,” you mumble, getting out of the car, Dustin trailing behind you and slamming the door shut.

“She doesn’t believe us,” Max explains.

“Well, I personally would be more weirded out if she did,” The girl you don’t know shrugs a little. You recognize her now— she worked with Steve at Scoops Ahoy last summer before the fire at Starcourt, and now works at Family Video. You’ve spoken a bit with her before.

“She’s been having visions, headaches, nosebleeds,” Dustin continues, “like Fred and Chrissy were, according to Ms Kelly’s files. I think Vecna is preying on vulnerable people, people dealing with...” he looks at you for a second, then back at the girls, settling on saying: “Some shit.”

“We found some articles about Victor Creel at the library,” Nancy says, then motions at the house with her chin. “Let’s talk inside.”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

Nancy and Robin turn out to be as crazy as the rest of them— they tell the story of Victor Creel, infamous in Hawkins for murdering his entire family, and about how he was supposedly possesed by the devil according to some conspiracy newspaper. They want to talk to Victor, but the problem is that he’s now a patient at Pennhurst Mental Hospital and completely unreachable to the public. They plan to go first thing in the morning and the rest of the group seems to agree. 

“We’ll need a disguise,” is Nancy’s big plan.

You never quite get that Tylenol, because the strongest thing Ms Wheeler has is green tea. You think everyone’s lost their goddamned minds.

“So what do you want me to do while all of you plan?” You ask, sitting on the couch. Nancy and Robin leave to Nancy’s room. Max and Lucas are by the desk in the corner speaking softly, Dustin is pacing around the room impatiently as he usually does when he’s this restless, while Steve is sitting on the couch beside you, playing with Dustin’s (or is it Mike’s?) walkie-talkie. “Am I allowed to eat something? Because I’m starving.”

Dustin snatches the walkie-talkie from Steve’s hand. “You’re gonna break that.”

Dustin’s, then.

“We don’t know yet,” Lucas says, walking over to where you are, holding Max’s hand gently. “We’re hoping the girls find out something from Victor. In the meantime…”

“You can eat,” Steve concludes. “... Right?”

“Right,” Max nods.

“We have to do something soon,” Dustin’s the most anxious you’ve ever seen him, even before you took him to see The Empire Strikes Back. “We don’t know how much time you even have once the visions and all the hallucinations start. We said twenty four hours but we can’t be sure.”

“If it helps, they started today. At Dinah’s.”

“You snapped out of it, right?” When you nod, Steve shrugs. “Henderson, I think we have time to order some pizza, at least.”

“And a movie?” You ask, finally relaxing into the couch. You toss away your shoes and hug them to your chest. “Does Mike have The Breakfast Club somewhere around here?”

“Not that movie again,” Dustin groans.

You throw a pillow at your brother, who manages to dodge it easily. “It’s a great movie!”

“It lost its charm after the thirteen time you forced me to watch it with you.”

“The Breakfast Club?” Steve asks aloud. “(Y/N) Henderson is obsessed with The Breakfast Club? Is that why Dustin is always renting it at Family Video?”

Dustin huffs, offended. “Why else would I want to rent that stupid movie?”

“Molly Ringwald,” Steve answers, at the same time you yell out, “It’s not stupid!”

When Nancy comes downstairs she informs you that sadly no, she doesn’t have The Breakfast Club, but that she should. She does have the soundtrack, however, and you think about asking to borrow it tomorrow before she goes back upstairs to order a pizza.

A while later it’s almost midnight, everyone around you is tired, except maybe for Dustin, but the majority wins and you all decide getting some sleep is the best option. You agree, but know that you’re probably not getting any sleep tonight, either; you’ve been having nightmares every night for the past few days and you don’t believe today is going to be any different.

When the lights go off and everyone is already starting to doze off, Dustin is quick to turn his flashlight on.

“Dude! Turn that off!” Steve moans, launching a pillow straight into his face. Dustin doesn’t dodge this one this time, much to Robin and Steve’s satisfaction, who chuckle lightly.

“C’mon, Dustin, what the hell?” Lucas groans.

“Shut up! I’m trying to see if I can find something else in Ms Kelly’s files!”

“Dude,” Max sighs, “you’ve read them each four times already.” 

“You won’t be able to find anything if you’re exhausted,” Nancy tries more softly. “Just try to sleep for a bit, okay?”

“Dustin, c’mon,” you reach for his hand— it’s a bit uncomfortable from your position on the couch and his on the floor, but you do it anyway. That seems to soothe him slightly, to see you still offering comfort, like you’re still yourself. He manages a weak nod, and he squeezes your hand slightly before turning the flashlight off.

After a few minutes, Dustin starts snoring loudly. Steve, who you’re unfortunately stuck sharing the couch with, chuckles.

“He’s a good kid,” he says.

“Yeah,” you can’t help but agree. You wouldn’t trade your dork brother for anything. “He’s great. When he was little, he used to wet his bed all time after watching scary movies with me, and he’d wake me up to change his sheets so my dad wouldn’t yell at him for ruining them.”

“Steve raises a silent eyebrow at you, sounding amused. “And you actually did that?”

“I forced him to watch them. I felt bad,” you smile at the memory. “He would offer to wash the dishes for me, though.”

“Your moral compass is stronger than mine,” he hums.

“You know, he…” you start, unsure if Dustin would be upset if you shared this, then decide it’s not as embarrassing as telling him he used to wet his bed, and continue, “he really admires you. God knows why, Harrington, but he worships the ground you walk on.”

“Henderson?” He asks, a little in disbelief. “I don’t know—”

“I’m serious, Harrington. He loves you,” You hoped you didn’t sound jealous. There had been a time where you thought Steve was almost a replacement for you as an older sibling, but as time went on you realized how important Steve was to him. 

“Well. I’m pretty loveable.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure.”

“He’s pretty loveable, too,” Steve says after a few beats of silence, more softly now. “I don’t have any siblings, did you know that? So it’s… uhm, really cool to have him around. Even if he’s kind of a little shit sometimes.”

“Such a little shit,” you agree.

The rest of the group seems to be asleep already, or maybe they don’t care about the conversation enough to join you. Steve starts telling you about the time Dustin burrowed his hair gel and almost set fire to his bathroom, and you have to cover your mouth to stifle your giggles.

It’s not long before you start to feel abnormally cold, and can’t keep your body from trembling. Steve’s gentle voice is gone. The room is dark around you, and realizing that you must’ve fallen asleep while talking with Steve at some point, you hug yourself trying to seek some warmth. You try to grab a blanket from somewhere. Jesus, it’s spring for fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t be this cold. But you realize that despite the darkness you can see, and when you look up at the ceiling, you find a grandfather clock that most definitely doesn’t belong in the Wheeler’s basement.

“(Y/N).”

The voice calling your name is unfamiliar and it makes you feel ill almost immediately, like your stomach has turned into nothing but knots. You try to speak, to ask who it is, but nothing comes out, you can barely even breathe.

“Do you think you could ever keep living with this guilt?” The voice asks, somehow you feel as if the voice is right behind you, whispering into your ear. It’s like nails scraping against chalkboard in your eardrums. “Knowing what you did to your family?”

You want to turn around and find the voice, but you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. The clock is ticking, haunting you, calling for you. You want nothing but to run away from it, but you can’t move— you’re glued in place somehow, maybe in fear, you can’t tell. Everything is uncertain, except for the clock. The clock, you know, it’s real. 

It’s counting down. You know what it’s trying to tell you. It’s coming for you and you can’t escape it. It’s only a matter of time now.

“Soon, (Y/N)...” It whispers. “Soon, I’ll come for you, and no one will be able to help you, (Y/N)... (Y/N). (Y/N)!”

You open your eyes with a gasp to find Steve’s arms around your shoulders, shaking you slightly. His eyes are wide, a little frightened. When you look around you find Lucas and Max draped all over a chair, their chests rising slowly, asleep. Dustin is in a sleeping bag on the floor, near Robin and Nancy, hugging each other tightly in their sleep. Steve is the only one awake.

“Shit,” you say, placing your hand in your heart. “Did I wake you?”

“We were talking and then you just went somewhere,” he says. “You don’t remember?”

You suddenly feel very cold. “I thought I was sleeping. I saw…” You think about telling Steve, but it seems pointless now, almost. What would you tell him? You saw a clock? “I think it was one of those hallucinations you guys keep talking about. You’re really freaking me the hell out, you know.”

“Fuck, I think Dustin’s right,” he says.

“About me being cursed by a being from another dimension? Are you kidding?”

Steve does manage to look apologetic. “I know it sounds bonkers, but that’s because it is. I’ve seen it.”

“What? This other dimension?” You were starting to think Dustin and his nanny were just trying to play an extremely elaborate joke on you.

“The Upside Down, but no,” he shakes his head, and then his eyes land somewhere around the room, focusing on one of Mike’s many posters. “The monsters.”

“Vecna?” 

“Others,” he says, then murmurs, “Haven’t had the pleasure just yet.”

“The demoger…? What was it?”

“Demogorgon, yeah,” he grumbles. “The Mind flayer too. It’s all real. I wish Will and Eleven were here to actually explain this stuff; they are the ones who actually know their stuff about this.”

You have never seen Steve actually sound so… serious, before. It’s all actually starting to freak you out, you decide, and you aren’t sure if you actually want to find out if it’s all actually real or not. You stay silent for a few moments, sleep escaping you. You figure Steve’s fallen asleep until his voice startles you again.

“You okay there, Henderson?”

No, you want to say. You can’t shake the feeling that the voice is watching you, waiting to catch you by surprise. “Yeah,” you mumble, sleepless, scared.

Steve doesn’t seem to buy your answer however, because you feel his body shifting near your side of the couch, sitting right beside you. When you give him a look (he’s so close he can actually make it out) he clicks his tongue.

“See, I don’t really believe you, Henderson. So, I’m gonna stay near you, just in case you get another vision. Or if you want to hold my hand.”

“Screw you, Steve,” You glare, turning to the other side so that your view is Harrington-less. If you do feel better with him beside you, that’s between you and maybe Vecna, if he’s actually inside your head.

In the morning, when you wake up and Nancy and Robin are both gone (probably visiting a murderer in a mental hospital) and Steve is tangled up beside you, you decide you’ve had enough. 

“So we’re just gonna wait around to see what happens?” Dustin argues, as Lucas and Max try to reason with him.

“What else can we do?” Lucas asks, frustrated.

“Literally anything else, dude! My sister might die!”

“Okay, Dustin, you need to stop and we need to go home, now,” you tell him, looking around the basement for your jacket.

���No!” he points at you. “You’re not going anywhere until we know what to do.”

“Dustin. I’m four years older than you,” you glare, placing your hands on your hips. “I’m the older sibling. I’ve entertained this enough already, but I left mom’s car at Dinah’s and we need to go get it and then get our asses home before mom loses her shit.”

“(Y/N)! Listen to me!”

“No, Dustin!” You finally snap, taking Dustin’s walkie-talkie from his hand and shoving it into your bag despite his protests. “I’ve had enough about monsters and other dimensions and whatever other nonsense Eddie Munson has been feeding you! We’re going home, now!”

“I can’t believe I’m actually trying to help you!” Dustin screams, “You suck!”

“Well, you’re stuck with me!”

“I wish I wasn’t,” he says, his eyes cold. “I wish you weren’t my sister.”

The chills return like a slap across your face, making you stumble backwards slightly. The room around you turns dark immediately, the only person left is Dustin in front of you. But it’s not him, it can’t be, his eyes have never looked this lifeless.

“You took his chance away, didn’t you?” The unfamiliar, bone chilling voice returns. “His chance of having a real family, or at least a father figure. He’s right in wishing you weren’t his sister. He deserves someone better.”

Again you want to scream, but it’s like your mouth is taped shut. Around you Mike Wheeler’s basement seems to fade away into blue, and suddenly you’re standing on your front porch, watching your dad walk away. You’re saying the hardness around your eyes, your lips drawn into a tight line. You don’t look like yourself; you look older, and tired, and disappointed, more like a woman than the girl you were when this happened, the girl you must’ve been.

“Don’t come back again,” you tell your father’s retreating form. But your voice is distorted, so far away. 

“How many times has Dustin needed his father?” The voice asks. When you blink you’re somewhere else; not Mike’s basement, not your home. There’s splinters of wood scattered by your feet, like a house just destroyed. Everywhere around you is red, like blood, like the blood in those horror movies you forced Dustin to watch because he made them less scary when he squealed. “Are you proud you broke up your family?”

“I was a kid,” you manage to say, and only now you realize you’ve been crying all along, the salty tears wetting your dry lips. “I didn’t want Dustin to know what he did. I would take it back if I knew he wouldn’t actually come back.”

“But you did it anyway. You did.”

I did, I did, I did, you think, over and over. You close your eyes, hard, ignoring how it almost hurts.

“You miss him too, don’t you? Despite everything. You’re sadder about the fact that he left you, too. He left his daughter behind.”

“Who are you?” You hiss out, through your anguish.

“I’m part of you, (Y/N). Whether you want to or not.”

You’re not alone. When you open your eyes you see him — a monster, vicious even in looks, like someone slowly peeled away his skin, and all that was left of him was muscle and meat, not even blood. Vecna. Around you there are two different bloody columns, and you’re quick to notice they’re holding Chrissy and Fred’s bodies, like morbid museum displays, tokens. He was right, Dustin was telling the truth about everything, and now you were going to die because you didn’t listen to him.

“No,” you want to say, you want to scream. But you’re not strong enough, you can’t—

Hey, hey, hey, hey

You blink through your tears. You manage to recognize that melody in this unfamiliar place. You want to run towards it, but you’re not sure your legs can even respond to your commands right now.

Vecna seems to think something’s wrong, too, because as the song progresses he grows more impatient. “You think you can escape like this?”

Tell me your troubles and doubts

Giving everything inside and out and

Love's strange, so real in the dark

Think of the tender things that we were working on

His hands— his claws are stroking your cheeks, an aborted tender gesture, like he’s trying to soothe his prey before going for the kill. It’s over, you think, there’s nothing but this certain death. But then; you think of the hundreds of times you forced Dustin to watch this movie with you; of you both playing with Tews until he scratches one of you in annoyance; driving Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Will to the movies; getting ice cream at Scoops Ahoy and guggling when Steve gets rejected once again; putting Dustin’s hair in braids and practicong makeup on him when he was younger; asking Will Byers what he was sketching at the park; Dustin and you laughing during dinner because of some stupid joke. You think about last night, sleeping beside Steve, and the way he made you laugh.

Don't you, forget about me

Don't, don't, don't, don't

Don't you, forget about me

You can’t give up. You can’t leave Dustin.

Somehow you manage to pull Vecna off you with a shove, and you run. You run, you run as fast as your legs let you, as your jeans stain with what looks like blood, as Vecna screams at you. You run like you've never run before.

And then you gasp and you’re falling.

“Shit, fuck, shit!” Someone’s arms are around you, and it takes you a second to calm down to realize it’s Steve, and that you’re in Mike Wheeler’s basement and you’re alive, somehow.

“Holy fucking shit,” Max is saying, but you can barely hear her over the rapid beating of your own heart— erratic, but unquestionably alive. 

“God, god, (Y/N),” Dustin’s voice stands out from the others, and when you look at him there are tears streaming down his eyes, and you can barely process anything before you’re trying to reach for him despite feeling like you’re not even in your own body.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, Steve letting go of yours. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“I thought you were gonna die,” he whimpers.

“I’m here,” you breathe out. “Oh my God, I’m here thanks to you.”

You realize that the song is still playing, only to notice the headphones in your ears. You see your scattered bag around the room, and the walkie-talkie that Dustin must’ve been looking for already on the floor. Don’t You (Forget About Me) slowly fades to an end before the next song on the soundtrack starts.

“I’m sorry,” Dustin says into your shirt. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were going through something, I should’ve noticed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You shake your head, holding your little brother even closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Fuck, Dustin, I’m so sorry.”

You stay like that for a moment, hugging Dustin on the carpet, Max and Lucas hovering near, and Steve’s hand on your shoulder, grounding you.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

When you explain to Nancy what happened and what you saw once she comes back from Pennhurst she’s quick to pinpoint the house you saw when you met Vecna as Victor Creel’s house. All of you grab your things and head to that location. You try to not feel so dreadful, and Dustin forcing you to listen to Don’t You the entire car ride and holding onto your jacket sleeve helps soothe your nerves, at least a little bit.

But Victor Creel’s house is something out of a horror story, dark and abandoned as it is, and the only light source in the house seems to be the hole Robin made when she smashed the window.

“Let’s split up,” Nancy offers, and everyone seems to comply much to your dismay.

Lucas and Max leave to investigate with Dustin (reluctantly parting from your side) trailing off behind them, Nancy and Robin head upstairs and you and Steve are stuck together and instructed to stay downstairs by Nancy, the only thing illuminating your way being your flashlights.

You wander through hallways, staring at ruined wallpaper and dusty portraits. Victor and his family seemed so happy in their pictures, and you wonder why nobody, family or not, ever came to look for their things. The house seemed frozen in time, like one day the family had decided to get up and leave everything behind, the house nothing more than ghosts.

“I hate this place,” you comment, trying to hug yourself tightly to keep the cold at bay. “Thinking that people died here is…”

“Horrible,” Steve finishes for you. “Yeah… Fuck this place, man.”

When you turn to a corner, you freeze in place.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re seeing this, right?” You point at a clock with your flashlight, unmoving. It’s the same clock from your visions, the one you saw before meeting Vecna.

“Yeah,” Steve frowns. “Real old. Why?”

“I saw it,” you try to explain through the rapid beating of your own heart. “In my visions, I mean. This clock was in them— well, the second one, mostly. In the Wheeler’s basement last night.”

“Shit…” Eloquent as ever, Steve Harrington. “Has to mean something, right?”

“If anything it proves Nancy and Robin were right. It all started here.” You finally force yourself to look away and continue forward, ignoring the way you feel your skin crawling. You hold up your cassette before re-starting the song.  “What would happen if I suddenly got tired of this song? Will it no longer work? Does this mean Vecna will… come back for me?”

“Listen, I— I’m not a genius at this like your brother, or like Nancy, or even Robin,” Steve admits, very honestly. “But I promise we’ll find a way, even if that happens. Besides, Dustin told us how much you love this song. Seems kinda impossible you’ll ever get tired of it if you listen to it every day. And listen, I gotta ask. Breakfast club?”

“What?” You feel heat rise up to your cheeks, embarrassed. You start walking away from the clock, trying to get rid of the chills that had gotten ahold of you just a few moments before. “It’s a great movie.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Steve says, and even though you can’t really see him in the dark, you can hear his smirk, picture his smile. He’s teasing, and you’re kind of glad for it. It helps. “I just didn’t think it would be your thing, is all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s my thing then?”

“I don’t know. You seem like a Dune fan, maybe.” He wonders out loud, your flashlight lighting the way. 

“I do like the book.”

“See?” Steve points at his temple. “I knew it.”

“I think working at Family Video is finally getting to you.”

“I’m good at reading people,” he says, and you raise another silent eyebrow at him. He continues, “I’d always thought of you as a little brainiac, and that you’d liked movies that were kinda difficult. You were always reading in school. I didn’t think you’d like teen flicks and Hughes.”

“Dune is not difficult. And maybe you don’t really know me enough to know what my thing is,” you shrug. “... Or maybe every girl is a little bit in love with Judd Nelson.”

“Yeah,” Steve actually laughs. “Can’t beat that hair.”

And you can’t help yourself, you smirk. You think you might actually be dreaming, or maybe this curse made Steve seem more tolerable than usual. “You give him a good run for his money.”

“We’re still talking about hair here, right?”

Now you point your flashlight at Steve and elbow him.

“I’m just asking!”

“It was a stupid question. And just so you know, there’s nothing wrong about liking teen flicks,” you say, continuing to walk and not waiting to see if Steve follows. “Pretty in Pink is my new favorite movie and my GPA is still 3.5.”

“Oh wow. Pretty in Pink?” He whistles. “You have a soft spot for Molly Ringwald.”

“Who doesn’t?”

He hums in response.

You stay like that for a moment, walking through dusty hallways and trying to avoid spider webs. Even with the flashlights the place looks abandoned and lonely, and there’s a coldness running down your spine that you can’t shake off no matter how much you try. You focus on trying to catch the sound of Steve’s breathing to somehow ground yourself to reality. It feels like ever since meeting Vecna your grip on reality slowly fades away, like someone is unraveling the carpet from underneath you, trying to catch you by surprise. Like you’re falling into an abyss of darkness and you can’t hold onto anything— because nothing around you is truly real. And so you bite your lip to keep yourself from reaching out to Steve and holding on. You can’t think of a moment you’ve felt as uncertain as you do now; but Steve’s teasing and your bickering back and forth is normal, makes you feel like you’re not actually in immediate danger. You figure if there’s a different dimension called the Upside Down, then you can most definitely forgive Steve Harrington for being a jerk in High School. He has more than proven himself to you. 

Because the truth is that maybe Vecna will win. Maybe you will never beat this curse. And you’ll end up like Chrissy Cunningham, like Fred Benson, like Patrick McKinney; just dead bodies along the trail.

“Hey, Steve,” you call, slowing down to walk beside him. He turns to look at you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Uhm. If something… like, happened to me—”

“Woah, woah, wait,” Steve shakes his head. “Nothing will. We beat the curse, remember? With the song?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t actually beat it, did we?” Now you do turn to look at him, and his big eyes almost render you speechless. You don’t know what to call the look on his eyes, but it makes you want to look away from him; makes you want to run. “Listen, Steve, I just— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says, quickly. You think he’s noticed how embarrassed you feel, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re just scared shitless like the rest of us.”

“It’s not that,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk around you and picking fights with you. You’ve— you’ve been there for Dustin when I wasn’t, and I guess you’re not actually a bad guy. So… I’m sorry I judged you. And thank you, I guess. For being there for Dustin. And… me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a second. You’re still looking anywhere but him, now focusing your eyes on a spider in one of the many spider webs in front of you. You feel embarrassed and stupid, but a little bit better. You know you’re doing the right thing by apologizing— you know Steve now, better than you’ve ever thought you would. You finally dare to take one look at him and his eyes are still on you, and when your eyes lock, he smiles softly.

“You’re apologizing for that?” Steve asks, and when you nod matter of factly, he tilts his head to the side. “Huh. Never thought I’d see the day Henderson’s sister apologized to me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Harrington,” you roll your eyes, but can’t help the small smile forming on your lips. “I’m only doing this because I might die.”

Steve chuckles, nodding. “Fair enough,” he says. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too, Henderson. To be honest, I think I kind of deserved it. I was an asshole in High School, so… yeah. I, uh, I’m sorry it took me getting kicked off the clique to realize you’re not half bad.”

“Well,” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “It took me almost dying to realize you’re not half bad either. I think we’re even.”

Steve stops in his tracks, making you stop, too, a little confused. You turn to look at him, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite so… earnest, maybe. You can’t name the look on his face, but you can’t look away, can’t seem to be able to keep walking. You’re frozen in place.

“You’re not gonna die, Henderson,” he says, determined. “I won’t let you.”

Your mouth goes dry. All you can do in response is nod. You want to say something, but the words escape you, and so you stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. You wonder if Steve can hear the rapid beating of your heart, if he can make out the way your eyes drop to his lips for a slow second despite the darkness around you both.

Then you hear Dustin yell out, “Guys!” and the moment fades away.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

Finding Eddie at Skull Rock seems to be harder than it should be, and once you find him you’re made to follow Dustin’s apparently broken compass. You feel like you’re wandering through the desert, with no clear path in mind. Dustin is at the front, with Lucas and Max following closely behind, Eddie (who you now have a hard time believing would ever be able to kill anyone), Robin and Nancy in front of you and Steve.

You find yourself time and time again choosing to spend more time with Steve, that he seems to be the one able to actually make you feel grounded, like you’re not gonna die in the next three seconds. You feel like yourself around him; but different. Steve is different. This whole experience is making you rethink everything you’ve ever known.

You can’t help but wonder in the silence about Dustin and the others, guiding the rest of you through the night time in the forest. Despite all of them being younger than you, they don’t seem to need your help, especially Dustin, who you think is completely in his element leading the way.

After a while of walking in silence, Dustin announces that the compass seems to be going even crazier. At this, Robin pries it off his hands to confirm that it’s true. Eddie and Dustin argue for a second about following the compass and make another Lord of the Rings reference that has you smiling.

“He’s not half bad,” you comment. “Eddie, I mean.”

“I still don’t know what the hell Modor is,” Steve mumbles under his breath.

You don’t try to explain Lord of The Rings to him— you don’t think there’s even enough time. But, maybe one day, when Hawkins isn’t in imminent danger and Steve still wants to hang out with your uncool self for whatever reason.

“What do you think we’ll find wherever this stupid compass is taking us?” You ask him, trying to avoid accidentally stepping on some poison ivy. Just your luck to get cursed and also poisoned on the same week. “You know more about this than me.”

“I’m actually more like, the, uhm, action guy of the group.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t know where we’re going,” You conclude.

Steve nods. “No damn clue, Henderson.”

“Great,” you chuckle lightly. 

“All I know is that it’s probably a portal Vecna opened after killing someone.”

“A portal. To the upside down?” When Steve nods in confirmation, you sigh. “I still can’t get used to how crazy this is.”

“The third time you do this you kind of just start going with the flow of things,” Steve admits. “Russian spies, MK-Ultra, different dimensions, monsters— it all just kind of starts to sound like background noise.”

“Dustin and the kids seem to really know about all of this.”

“They do,” Steve nods. “Dustin is like, their leader. Our leader, I guess.”

“My little brother… fighting communists and monsters.” You shake your head. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. How did Nancy? With you and Mike?”

Steve stops for a second to frown at you. “With me?”

“You know, with Nancy and you dating.”

“Me and Nancy?” he asks, then shakes his head. “No, me and Nance just… we go way back, but she’s with Jonathan. That ship sailed a long time ago. We’re friends now. Besides, she’s the one killing more monsters than me.”

“Oh.”

There’s no way to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at this, or the hopeful glint in Steve’s eyes. The rest of the woods disappear and it’s only you and Steve and your rapidly beating heart. The others are lost to you, in their own little world, searching in the dark with their flashlights like fireflies.

“Yeah,” Steve scratches the back of his neck. “And, just in case, me and Robin are not a thing, either. Just friends.”

“Platonic with a capital P!” You hear Robin yell out in front of you.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at Steve’s blush. “Yeah, yeah, think she got it, Buckley, thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

“That’s… good to know,” you comment.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, then scratches his chin. “Is it? Good to know?”

You nod slowly, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe.”

“Maybe. Okay. Maybe is—” he breathes out. “Maybe is cool.”

“Maybe is really cool,” you allow yourself a small smile.

“Really?” Steve inquires, and when he notices his smile he gifts you one of his own. “Okay. That’s great. Maybe is really cool. Cool. Cool beans.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, finally daring to look at him.

Steve follows your movement with his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, breathless.

“Hey guys,” Dustin’s voice rings out, the moment gone. “I think we found the portal!”

You both follow Dustin’s voice until you reach a lake, where Eddie explains Vecna killed Patrick when he was running away from Jason and the rest of the basketball team. 

“So the portal is… what?” Robin asks, “Underwater?”

Dustin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

He starts climbing up the boat, and you’re quick to grab him by the sleeves of his shirt to stop him.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” You ask him.

“Looking for the portal,” Dustin says, matter-of-factly.

“You told me this portal is supposed to teleport you to another dimension, one Will Byers got stuck in,” you reply, pulling him away from the boat. “You’re not going anywhere near that portal. None of you kids are.”

“Who died and made you the boss?”

“Three people died,” you note.

“I made her the boss,” Robin quips. “Well, Nancy might technically be the boss, actually. Nance?”

Nancy blinks at Robin’s words. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“Nance says yes.”

Eddie frowns. “Yes to being the boss or yes to—”

“Let’s just go,” Nancy urges, gesturing at Steve to help her drag the boat offshore. Steve complies, and helps Nancy climb into the boat, followed by Robin and then Eddie.

“But what about the curse?” Dustin wonders, looking at you.

“I have this, remember?” You hold up the cassette player, and wink at your brother. “Don’t worry about me, okay? Look after Lucas and Max. Nancy might be the boss, but you’re their leader.”

“Okay, yeah,” he nods, sounding more like he’s talking to reassure himself than anything. 

“Compass, please,” you tell him, and Dustin complies unhappily. You can’t help yourself from grabbing him by the cheeks and kissing his forehead like you did when he was younger. Despite being a good leader, a fighter, he’ll always be little Dusty, who steals your waffles and makes really bad coffee. “See you soon.”

Steve offers his hand to help you climb the boat and you take it with a tiny smile.

The trip on the boat is short and dark. Even with Steve using his flashlight to try and light the way, it’s barely enough to keep you from being engulfed in the darkness of the night. When was the last time the moon shone down in Hawkins? There are almost no stars above, the view chillingly dark. You fear what you might find. Nancy stares at Dustin’s compass, trying to give any semblance of direction when the compass starts going crazy.

Steve starts pulling off his socks. 

“Steve,” Nancy says slowly, “what are you doing?”

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out. Was one of you four Hawkin’s High’s swimming co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years?” He figures, already working on his other shoe. “It’s gotta be me, no complaints, alright?”

Eddie chuckles nervously. “Hey… I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.”

You watch as Eddie takes something off his pocket and throws it on the boat’s floor. You want to stop Steve somehow, irrationally, because as far as you know Nancy, Robin and Eddie can’t dive, and you can barely float — but the words die on your throat when you look up and Steve is peeling off his shirt.

“Here,” Eddie says, and you realize now he had wrapped a plastic bag around a flashlight and is now handing it back to Steve. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, taking it from his hands.

“Steve,” Robin rasps out before he dives, and Steve stops to look at her. “Don’t… die?”

“Gee,” he scoffs. “Thanks for the encouraging speech, Robs.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Don’t die, seriously,” you manage to tell him, wanting to reach for his hand but stopping yourself. “Or I’ll kill you.”

Steve nods. He looks like he wants to say something else, but keeps his mouth shut before diving underwater.

The silence on the boat almost kills you, as it rocks quietly, everyone holds their breath waiting for Steve to come up once again. Your heart is in your throat, Don’t You still playing softly in your eardrums, the cassette player still on, a constant to remind you you’re still here. Miraculously.

“He’s…” Eddie whistles. “He’s got balls, King Steve.”

“Yeah,” you nod, looking at the water like you’re hypnotized, waiting for his soaked head to pop up.

“Not what you’d expect,” he adds, a little quietly.

“No,” Robin says, and the way she says it— so fond, so genuine. You couldn’t agree more. Steve is so much more than what you’d expected him to be. “Not at all.”

You stay silent for a few more seconds, all of you waiting for Steve to come back. When he does he emerges with a gasp for air, startling the rest of you. Eddie screams so loud you hear it perfectly well over the music.

“Found it,” Steve claims, holding onto the edge of the boat.

“You found it?” Nancy repeats.

“It was pretty wild,” Steve explains that he seemed to have stumbled into the portal, like an open gate illuminating the bottom of the lake and tinting it red. “It was pretty damn big—”

Before he can continue, Steve is pulled into the water once again, and you jump up instinctively, trying to reach for his hand, but he escapes your grasp quickly. He emerges again and you breathe a sigh of relief— but it’s short lived, because Steve is dragged under once again and he’s not coming up.

“Steve!” you yell. “Steve!”

“What the hell was that, man?!”

Between all the screaming going on, the only thing you can think about is Steve, Steve, Steve—

And so you stand up.

“Wait, (Y/N),” Nancy starts, “What are you—”

“You’re not going in there!” Eddie screams, trying to grab you by the arm.

“I—” You start, but can’t seem to decide on what to say. You don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you know you’ll do it anyway. You have no plan, that much is certain, you’ve never fought a day in your life. “I can’t just stay here!”

“Are you insane?!”

Robin pales. “No, (Y/N), wait—”

With one last look at the rest of the guys, you dive into the water and swim. You’ve never been a good swimmer, but you find yourself swimming like you’ve never had, quickly finding the red portal Steve had mentioned before being dragged down here. What you find on the other side reminds you of when you met Vecna— when he showed you your memories, cold, distorted and dark. You briefly wonder if Vecna had managed to drag you all the way here then, but you have no time to dwell on it too much.

Steve is laying on his back, as some creatures bite at his abdomen incessantly, like leeches. They are choking him, curling their tails around his neck. You stand up and run towards him, only to notice the others have followed behind you, their wet footsteps a reassurance.

“(Y/N)!” Nancy yells, making you turn. She throws one of the boat’s paddles at you, keeping one for herself. 

You manage to catch it, God knows how. Steve is still struggling when you get to him, and the first thing you do is smack one of the things across the face, forcing it on its back and stopping it from further gnawing Steve’s abdomen. You see as Robin starts stomping on the one who has its tail curled around Steve’s neck, and Nancy takes on the other one.

“Shit,” Eddie murmurs when he looks up the sky and sees even more of them approaching.

One of them starts going after Nancy, Eddie trying to come to her rescue by grabbing Steve’s still working flashlight and smacking it as hard as he can manage. You help Robin by hitting the one she’s stomping on with the paddle, until Steve manages to bite its tail, forcing it to curl itself from his neck. 

With more coming, you are distracted enough to barely notice when Steve manages to behead it, his lips stained with pitch black blood.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie mumbles. “Jesus H Christ!”

The adrenaline pumping through your veins, your heartbeat going faster— everything seems to go for so long, when in reality it must’ve been just a few minutes.

“Steve,” you manage to rasp out, walking towards him, only looking at his wounds, unsure of what you can do to help him. “Shit, Steve, are you okay?”

“They only took about a pound of flesh,” he says, making you sigh. “But other than that… Yeah, never better.”

He stares at you when he says it, and you can’t help the way your breath catches.

“You’ll need bandages,” Nancy notes.

“Do you guys know if these bats have like, rabbies?” Robin wonders aloud. Aware that everyone’s eyes are on her, Robin starts rambling about rabies symptoms and death. You and Steve glance at each other.

Steve’s chest is still rising erratically, exhausted, when he asks, “What the hell are you talking about, Robin?”

Before Robin can go on any longer though, the sky is tinted red again, and the screeching of even more approaching creatures gets you on edge. 

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” you say, and the rest of the group seem to agree.

The five of you break into a run into the forest, as far as you can before Steve’s wounds start to appear more serious, and when Nancy deems it safe enough, you stop near a tree where Steve can lean against, still breathing rapidly. You remember that Nancy said he’d need bandages, and so you take the hem of your pants and start ripping them open.

“What are you—” Steve starts.

“Bandages,” you say. “I saw this in Indiana Jones.”

“Indiana Jones?” Steve asks with a chuckle, looking up at the sky, smiling. “Your movie choices keep surprising me, Henderson.”

You tie the cloth around his wounds as tightly as you can, hopeful that it’s a good enough job to keep him from bleeding out until you guys get out of here. The wounds don’t look too bad, but you have no idea how long you'll stay here for. Nancy, looking over your shoulders, seems to approve of your bandage work.

“Thanks,” Steve rasps out.

“Just don’t die on me,” you nod, staring at his eyes.

“I’ll try not to.”

He holds your gaze, your mouth going even more dry than it already is. “I’ll hold you to that, Harrington.”

You’re interrupted when Steve catches something behind you. It’s Eddie’s jean vest. When you turn, Eddie scrunches up his nose.

“For modesty, man.”

“We escaped now, but there’s more of those monsters than what we saw,” Nancy interrupts, walking around, trying to think. “They’ll come looking for us. We need to get out of here.”

“So,” Eddie starts, running a hand through his mouth. “What the hell do we do now? How do we get out of here, exactly?”

“We need to find another portal, right?” Robin replies. “That’s the only way to get out of here. But we can’t go back to Watergate, it’s probably full of those bats now. Those bats full of rabies!”

 “Right now, the most important thing is to defend ourselves,” Nancy says. “We don’t know what kind of monsters are down here. Maybe they’re even worse than that.”

“Hell,” Eddie breathes. “You think Vecna is here?”

“I don’t know… Maybe.”

A chill runs down your spine at the mention of Vecna’s name. Your hand flies to your ear, and only then you realize you’ve jumped in the water with your headphones on, and when you reach the player secured inside your front pocket it’s wet and broken. Through the adrenaline of the fight, you hadn’t even noticed that the song was no longer playing. 

“Shit,” Nancy breathes out, looking at your ruined headphones. “The player.”

“It’s ruined,” you lament, seeing the way it’s soaked. You toss the cassette player to the ground, near Steve’s feet, who pales even more, if it’s even possible.

“Fuck,” he says, breathless, the slight reassuring smile he’d been wearing disappears in an instant. He stands up straight despite his body clearly protesting against it. “We need to find another one before it’s too late.”

“Would it even work here?” Robin wonders. “If it’s one from the Upside Down, I mean. Things seem to be… kind of broken here, don’t they?”

“Then we need to get her out of here right now,” Steve urges, and when he starts trying to walk away it’s Eddie who stops him.

“Dude, do you want your intestines to hang out of your abdomen like some shitty Nightmare on Elm Street scene?” he asks, “Stay still! Those bats could be anywhere!”

“We need to move!”

“Steve, wait a second,” you urge after him.

“We could go to my house,” Nancy offers. “I have guns. We could use them to fend off the demo… bats, or whatever. And we need a player. We can use Mike’s, he has one he didn’t take to California.”

Eddie blinks. “You, Nancy Wheeler… have guns.”

Robin grins. “Full of surprises, isn’t she?”

Steve is already on his way despite his groans of pain, and even though the wounds had seemed pretty superficial to you when you wrapped them up, it doesn’t mean that they don’t hurt like a bitch.

“Steve, you’re just hurting yourself even more now,” Now Robin is sighing, exasperated. You briefly wonder how many times she’s had to deal with Steve like this.

“Let’s go,” he says, ignoring her.

“Steve...” you try to stop him, but he turns around quickly.

“Let’s go!” 

Robin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Where are we even going, oh great leader?”

“Nancy’s!”

You all turn to look at each other, unsure if following Steve is the best idea, but with nothing else to do and no other ideas, there’s only one thing to do.

And so you all start walking.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

It’s a while before you arrive at the Wheeler’s, the five of you mostly exhausted from the fight, with Steve clutching his wounds but still leading the way, right next to Nancy. You’re all on edge the entire way back, but despite the lack of music you don’t feel different yet, and you don’t encounter any more demobats, as Nancy had called them.

Nancy’s house seems haunted in this place, just as much as the rest of Hawkins seems to be. Despite housing monsters, the Upside Down looks more like a ghost town than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder how tiny Will Byers had ever survived something like this so young… Nobody ever gives that kid enough credit. 

Nancy wastes no time climbing up the stairs; she almost seems unaffected looking at her house like this, so… dead. She hovers near a door and turns to look at you.

“This is Mike’s room,” she nods at it. “His cassette player should be in there. Me, Eddie and Robin will get the guns and look for the cassette in my room.”

You agree to it, and she disappears down the hallway along with Eddie and Robin. You and Steve enter Mike’s room, start rummaging through cabinets. You work in silence. You’ve never seen Steve this quiet, this focused. You wonder if he’s mad at you— he had to be. Now besides demobats and trying to escape, he had to help you too because you’d went and done something stupid and completely irrational.

Steve clears his throat, holding up something in his hand. “Found it,” he calls. “Think it’ll work?” He wonders aloud, as you close the closet door before walking up to him.

“Here,” You say, then pull your ruined flashlight from your back pocket. You hit the back of it against the palm of your hand and the batteries come off. You’re not sure if this might work since the flashlight got wet and stopped working once you jumped into the water, but once you plug them into the cassette player it seems to come to life. Steve sighs, relieved. “Thank God that worked. Let’s get that stupid cassette and get out of here.”

“Sounds good to me,” he quips. He wets his lips, looking around. “You don’t feel any different, though, right?” When you shake your head, he seems to be able to relax a bit. “When we were on our way here, Eddie told me you didn’t waste a second to help me.”

You wait for Steve to continue, but he doesn’t.

“I’ve never been much of an adventurer when we were kids,” you say. “Dustin wanted to climb trees and go camping, and I wanted to stay home and read books. We used to fight all the time because I never wanted to play outside with him, because I was scared of bugs and dirt and I just wanted to stay inside.”

Steve doesn’t say anything to that, but he’s near you, hoving near your hand, like he knows you need the comfort, unsure if it’d be wanted from him. 

“If I don’t make it out of this stupid curse, Steve,” you breathe out, legs feeling so shaky you want to throw up, “I need you to promise me you’ll take care of Dustin.”

“He’ll kill me before I let you die,” Steve says, trying t sound lighthearted but failing.

“Steve,” you rag out. “Promise me. Please.”

Steve nods, his voice soft in the way it does when he’s trying to be gentle. “Y—yeah. Of course. You know little Henderson’s like my own little brother.”

“I know,” you acknowledge. “You’ve been a way better sibling than me. I’ve been such a shitty sister and I’m… I’m really glad Dustin has you.”

“That’s not true,” he argues, reaching for your arm in the darkness of the room— you want to flinch away. “He loves you, (Y/N). Seriously, you should hear the way he talks about you when you’re not around.”

You ignore the sting in your eyes and berate yourself for tearing up.

“It’s my fault,” you whisper.

“What?”

“It’s my fault my dad walked away,” you shake your head, tearing your arm away from Steve’s touch, feeling cold as soon as you’re away from him. But you deserve it, you deserve the cold. “I told him I hated him after I learned he cheated on mom and that he had another family, and he never came back. I told him I never wanted to see him again. I’m the reason Dustin doesn’t have a dad now. But— but I was just fifteen, I didn’t— I didn’t know what I was asking—”

“Stop, stop,” Steve interrupts, and suddenly he’s pulling you close to your chest and holding you close.

And suddenly that’s all you need to break down, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You feel embarrased, stupid for crying about something like this when the world might be about to end, horrifyingly guilty for everything— but for the first time you feel like something has been finally lifted off your chest and you can breathe, here, with Steve holding you. You’re glad Steve stayed behind with you. In truth, you think you might just be glad for Steve.

If someone had told you a week ago you’d be crying in Steve Harrington’s arms you would’ve smacked them. Life can change really fast, huh?

“Nobody is going to die,” his voice is so soft. You’d never thought you’d think of Steve’s voice as anything other than grating, but now you hold onto it like a lifeline. “I won’t let that happen.”

You breathe into his chest. You finally manage to let go of him, thanking God the others weren’t near. You miss the warmth almost immediately, as much as you don’t want to admit it. “Shit, sorry, your bandages.”

“You need to stop doing that,” he quips.

“What?”

“Apologizing so much,” he reaches for your arm again before walking, and you thank him silently. You have to bite your tongue not to apologize again. “Let’s go get that cassette.”

When you both step into Nancy’s room, the silence is almost deafening. 

“What happened?” 

“The guns,” Nancy explains, her eyes focused on her nightstand, not looking up at either of you. “They aren’t here. But so many things that shouldn’t be are. Like— like my curtains, and these— these toys I gifted my cousin Joanna. They haven’t been here since 1983.”

“We’re stuck in time, dude,” Eddie finishes for her.

“Three years, to be exact.”

“What?” Steve asks, confused. “Three years into the past?”

“... From when Will disappeared, you mean?” You question.

Nancy nods. “Yeah, I… think so. But, (Y/N), If we’re three years in the past, it means The Breakfast Club isn’t out yet,” Nancy swallows, hard, then finally looks up to stare into your eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, his chest rising erratically. 

You bite your lip. “She means the song doesn’t exist, either.”

Nancy closes her eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” 

“Fuck!” Steve yells, “fuck!”

He kicks one of Nancy’s nightstands with so much force he manages to force it into the ground, Nancy’s belongings following suit, scattering around the carpet, making Nancy flinch. 

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to reach for him. “Stop.”

Steve sits on Nancy’s bed, hand covering his mouth. He lets you rest your hand on his arm, and he breathes out another curse. He almost looks frozen in place like this, and it reminds you that everything in here feels like it is— ghosts, so many ghosts. You feel like you’re stuck in hell. 

“Maybe any song will work,” Robin offers a little desperately, going through Nancy’s drawers, pulling out different cassettes and soundtracks, Duran Duran, Madonna, Elton John. “C’mon guys, one has to work.”

Eddie scratches his neck. “Doesn’t it have to be her favorite song? Isn’t that what Henderon said?”

“Screw it,” Nancy shakes her head, taking in a shaky breath. “We have to try whatever we can. This is our only option.”

“Okay,” you nod, shakily, prying your hand off of Steve’s arm, reaching to cruch own next to Robin and look through the rest of Nancy’s cassettes. “Okay, let’s— let’s try it.”

Robin holds up Total Eclipse of the Heart. “You like Bonnie Tyler?” 

“Seems as good as anything,” you nod, taking it from her hands. As the first notes of Total Eclipse start playing, you gulp nervously, praying this might work, that you have at least enough time to get out of here alive.

Steve still looks miserable, but seems a little calmer now. “We need to get out of here right now.”

“How?” Robin sighs. “How did Will ever manage to get out of this place?”

“There has to be a way,” Nancy figures, then something seems to dawn on her. “Will. Will used to talk to Joyce with the Christmas lights while he was stuck in the Upside Down.”

“The Christmas lights?” Eddie asks, incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

As she explains, you can’t help but think that Nancy Wheeler is absolutely brilliant. You can’t blame Steve for falling in love with her before. She’s interrupted by Robin rather quickly though, when she claims she can hear Dustin’s voice— soon enough, all of you start to hear him, distorted and distant, but it's there no less. Quickly Dustin communicates that he thinks there might be another portal in Eddie’s trailer and that seems to be your best shot at an escape.

Robin and Nancy leave to get some supplies for the trip— whatever they can find to use as a weapon, while Eddie wanders off behind them, with the excuse of rummaging through little Wheeler’s action figures. Steve stays with you, as you stare at Holly’s Lite Brite, unsure on what to do. 

You trust Dustin and his plan, of course you do. Dustin’s done nothing but prove himself to you these past few days. Still, the thought that everything might go incredibly wrong is almost unshakable at this point. What was it Max said to you? Something about how Vecna’s curse made people feel hopeless and lonely.

“You okay, right?” Steve wonders aloud, searching your face. “You haven’t had any visions yet?”

You haven’t felt Vecna’s pull yet, but you don’t want to be overly optimistic just yet. “I’m okay, I think. Are you?”

You glance down at his bandages, but he only nods. “Yeah, they don’t hurt anymore. I’m more worried about you.”

Warmth spreads all over your cheeks and inside your chest, but now’s really not the time for all of these feelings, and so you try to squeeze them out, to focus on something else. 

“I just hope the plan works,” you mumble. “I want to get out of here.”

“You—” Steve shakes his head, looks at you with a look you can’t name. But he sounds frustrated, exhausted. “You just jumped in after me? You didn’t even think…” he trails off. “Eddie said you just jumped. Fucking jumped. You’re unbelievable, you know that, don’t you, Henderson? Absolutely fucking unbelievable.” 

You look down at your hands.

“It was stupid, I know, I—”

“Thank you,” Steve murmurs, honesty bleeding into every word he speaks. You look up at him, surprised. “You saved my ass back there.”

The truth is you hadn’t doubted one second— you hadn’t even stopped to think about what might happen to you. Helping Steve was more important to you than anything in that moment, and you didn’t regret it, how could you regret that? 

“You saved my ass first, back at the Wheeler’s,” you smile at him. “Even later, in the woods, and at Creel’s house. I don’t know if I could have kept going without you… so thank you.”

Steve stays silent for a few seconds, unsure of how to continue. You can practically feel him grow nervous now, when he clears his throat and begins speaking. “Listen, I know we are on the brink of life and death and maybe world threatening danger, but I kinda need some motivation to get out of here.”

“Yeah?”

“So, now that you know me and Nancy aren’t really a thing, and that me and Robin are platonic with a capital P…”

“Keep going.”

“And since you know, maybe is really cool,” you nod, trying to fight off a smile. “We should, maybe, go on a date together.”

“Hm…” you place a hand on your chin. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can go out with someone who doesn’t like Pretty in Pink.”

“I’ve never said I didn’t,” he shrugs. “I just haven’t even seen it.”

“You haven’t seen Pretty in Pink, you monster?!”

“You know, I’m actively bleeding out here,” Steve gestures at your last minute bandages, his smile almost as handsome as him, even more so after tearing off a bat monster’s head off. Even more so now that it seems you finally have a plan to get out of this goddamn place. “You’re gonna make a dying man wait?”

“You’re not dying, Harrington.” You smack him gently across the shoulders. “I won’t let you.”

Steve chuckles, his hand finding its way to yours, almost nervous, scared of rejection. 

“So? What do you say?”

“I say that if we get out of here alive, and it seems like kind of a longshot right now…” you acknowledge, holding onto his hand and squeezing. “I would really, really like that.”

“Yeah?”

You’re smiling. “Yeah.”

You both might be the people with the worst timing in the entire world— you’re cursed by a demon villain from another dimension, and Steve is bleeding out while you’re both trapped inside the Upside Down, with no clue if you’ll be able to actually escape. Not to mention this is all happening in his ex's house. And yet you can’t help but laugh when Steve tries to reach for the back of your neck and fails miserably.

“I really want to kiss you,” he says, “but my abdomen still really hurts.”

“I have to do everything,” you tease, before closing the distance between you, your lips pressing against his with a sigh. 

Steve’s lips are chapped, bloody, raw, and yours must be equally as bad, salty, open and bleeding raw. But despite everything the kiss is perfect, as imperfect and uncoordinated as it is; the way your lips fit together, the way Steve cradles your cheek, and how you hold the back of his neck while Bonnie Tyler plays in the background of it all. Now, more than anything, you feel hope.

When you break off the kiss, Steve is smiling. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. And you just might.

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

ROSE: I recently found out why my mom would never sleep around me when I was a kid. Like, she'd never let herself take naps or sleep if I was awake, ever. Or, if she did, she'd lock her bedroom door.

ROSE: So. When I was six, I was asleep in my bed in the middle of the night when I heard a loud bang, like a pot being dropped. I came out to the living room to see my mom standing by the window, with... just, a huge pile of spaghetti all over the sill, and a pot on the ground. And I go,

ROSE: "Are you going to eat all that?"

ROSE: She gets MAD. Yells at me, chases me to my room. But then, a little while later, a bunch of cops show up and ask me a bunch of random ass questions about my art? Like, this one cop lady kept asking me to draw wizards for her. They seemed mad as hell.

ROSE: I didn't want to get arrested, so I just... never asked my mother for spaghetti after that. Lesson learned. Don't ask mom for spaghetti or she'll call the damn police on you.

ROSE: I have this memory in my head, and it goes unquestioned until I say it out loud for the first time a few months back, and as soon as I say the words, "When I was six, my mom called the cops on me for asking for spaghetti," my adult logic slams into place and goes, "Hang on. Your mother definitely did not call the police on a six year old asking for spaghetti."

ROSE: Obviously, that's not what really went down. I call up my mother to tell her how I remember it, and on top of her figuring out why her kid has always been really cagey around spaghetti for the last couple decades, she tells me what really happened.

ROSE: On that night, a man tried to break into our house through the front window. It was just my mother and I, so she did what she felt she had to do and shot him in the head. He'd been wearing a helmet, which landed on the floor under the window.

ROSE: Now. I just... want you to put yourselves in my mother's shoes for a minute, here. This woman has just taken a human life. The trauma of that--the instant agony, the panic, the guilt, the fear--all of it hitting her at once, her only solace the knowledge that her child is safe. She protected her daughter. No matter the cost to her soul, her child is safe.

ROSE: Then she looks up and sees her six-year-old staring at the inside of this man's head before saying,

ROSE: "Are you going to eat all that?"

DAVE: .........................what the fucking

DAVE: ok. you know how it is with spaghetti

[min-hoax]

dirty little secrets - knj

Summary: Namjoon was a hopeless romantic. He thought that was his destiny, and for you? That was simply your doom.

Pairing: Yandere! Namjoon x F! Reader

Word Count: 8.25K

Warning(s): Obsession, stalking, he’s so delusional 😍, the reader is a messy bitch BUT I love her, infidelity, underage drinking, mentions of drugZ (characters are over 18!), mentions of suicide, manslaughter, mentions of blood and a dead body, mentions of attempted SA, MDNI 18+ SMUT SMUT SMUT, cunnilingus, fingering, loss of virginity, sliiiiiiiight breeding kink (it’s me, yall should’ve known😭)

A/N: I know I said I’d be gone, but I got so inspired!! This fic is written in Namjoon’s POV! Enjoy being in our lovely yanderes’ mind. 😈 UNEDITED!!!

I dreamt of you before I met you.

In my romanticizing mind where I’d day dream about our life and what could be. You, wrapped around my arms as you slept. Us, on a trip that you desired to go to ever since you were a child.

It was moments like those that made me wait for you, and only for you because the moment I set my eyes on you, I was a goner.

I smiled at you from across the room when we locked eyes, the blaring music thundering inside my chest as you sat on a table, your legs swinging up and down. You nodded when your friend voiced something loudly, agreeing to whatever it was, but yet your eyes remained on mine.

I caught your eyes just like you caught mine.

But my admiration did not last long for a boy slithered his way into your embrace, a red cup of liquor in his hand that he passed to you while pecking your lips. I should have known a beautiful angel like you was bound to be in the arms of a lover, but how come I felt a little pang on my chest the second your lips locked with his?

I knew we were meant to be because how did the universe connect us both so effortlessly? It wanted us together and I knew that the second I saw you again. I set my eyes on you that same night, this time not at a house party, but at your own home.

Our home.

The move frightened me and caused my calamitous mind to drown in nightmares of what could be’s, but once I set foot in the town that I now called my home, I knew everything was going to be fine. Everyone was kind and welcoming and I didn’t even spend a sweat in finding a home once I packed my childhood home up and made my way north.

The memories of my mother were too haunting and I simply could not bear it. I had enough money from the life insurance company I acquired after her passing and made the decision so quickly after.

I found the ad one Saturday afternoon: Room For Rent! $525 A Month. ALL Amenities Included. I talked to a woman on the phone (now I know it was your mother) when I reached out, allowing her to know I was interested in the offer. She was kind and after a longing while of questions, she accepted and I made my way to you. I just didn’t know it then.

Your scream from fright made me jump, the cup of water in my hands slightly dripping droplets on the wooden ground. “What the fuck?” You muttered, taking a step back. Your eyes were messy with makeup, the night no doubt taking a toll on your sleep, after all it was three in the morning when you walked inside. “Who the hell are you?”

I meant to speak, but the creek of your mothers’ door opening upstairs kept me from opening my mouth, and seeing you standing before me did not help either. Your mother made her way to us, wrapping her pink fleecy robe around her waist. Your scream no doubt roused her from sleep.

“What’s going on - oh.” She looked at us. Did she not tell you about me? Perhaps not, it was obvious. But I was slightly afraid that I’d be scolded by your mother. I was free to roam the inside of your home to make my meals and shower and get a cup of water in the middle of the night, but yet you were her daughter and mothers were always fiercely protective. I knew.

“Sweetheart.” She started and smiled. “This is Namjoon. I guess I didn’t tell you he’d be renting the room at back.”

“Uh, since when?”

“Since… two nights ago?” She looked at me, trying to remember. I nodded. “Yes, since Thursday. I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you.”

I didn’t know I was desperate to feel your touch, but as soon as your hands fit in mind when you shook it and introduced yourself with a tired smile on your face, I shuddered.

“Well I'm glad you weren’t an intruder.” Your hand slipped from mind as you made your way into the kitchen, fetching a glass and filling it with water whilst speaking. “Just, mom, please give me a heads up next time.”

Next time? I wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. I knew there were others before me, the wall by my bed was vandalized with small figures and initials that read KTH, and I always wondered who resided in the room I now slept in.

You looked like an angel when you took a step towards the stairs, turning your head to smile at me one last time. The light on the ceiling gifted you with a glow that made me smile like an idiot. “Goodnight.”

Oh, I was a goner.

I couldn’t help it. I was never a violent person and I even surprised myself when I thought of punching your boy in his perfect face. I knew for a fact that though I was taller and was at an advantage, I could not win in a fight because I had never been in one. I was never the confrontational type.

He was the epitome of perfection. Round, but define cheeks, plump pink lips that made my jaw clench when yours connected with his, and blonde hair that fit him perfectly. He was everything that I wasn’t and that made me want to shrivel up inside and scream with rage until my throat was sore and my voice was nonexistent.

But I could only dream.

“Namjoon, please, help yourself.” Your mothers voice called for me, taking me out of my thoughts and onto the situation that I did not want to deal with. You and Park Jimin.

He sat before me, a plate of breakfast on the diner table and an arm wrapped around the back of you as you nursed a cup of coffee.

There was something with you and coffee. I always noticed you would make yourself a cup, take a few sips, but you never finished it. Always throwing it out the drain before you made your way to school. I always wondered. Until I didn’t.

I wasn’t in school, not yet anyway. After I graduated a few years back my mother tried her best to steer me towards it, but I wasn’t interested, even after the various scholarships I was offered. I knew I could still, for I was smart and capable. There was a part of me that did want to, just to simply join you at the community college you and Jimin went to, but I refrained.

I wasn’t a stalker.

“So Namjoon, how are you liking it here?” Jimin suddenly spoke with a bright smile on his cheeks. It wasn’t that it took me by surprise, Jimin had never spoken to me directly, but I didn’t want him to talk to me. To me, the younger boy was obnoxiously loud and a nuisance.

I breathed as I pushed the want of rolling my eyes. But instead, I took a finger on the bridge of my glasses and pushed them up. I smiled.

“It’s great.” I replied, nodding. “Everyone is kind and the setting is absolutely beautiful. The forestation that surrounds us is amazing.” I couldn’t help but to look at you as I voiced my opinion. I wasn’t lying, you were absolutely beautiful. Absolutely perfect.

Jimin raised a brow and chuckled. “Well, I’m glad. I’ve never really noticed what surrounds us, but I agree.” And with a sip of his apple juice, the conversation between us ended.

I was glad.

But where a conversation dies, another one starts. Your mother was a very talkative person. I had only been with you all for about two weeks in a half, but I felt like I knew her for years. She talked about herself a. lot, and I only wished that she did of you, but I figured she was just lonely after her husband’s passing.

She talked about him all the time and I noticed that she refrained from speaking about him when you were around. From what she spoke of your father, he seemed like a good man. It was only after you left one day to go to school, she finally confessed. She cornered me in the laundry room when I went to gather my clothes and started speaking of everything and anything, until she came about your father.

“My love struggled a lot when he was on earth side. He was fine for a while, but it got too much for him and one day he decided to leave us. My sweet girl found him.”

After that, I finally understood. Why she never spoke of him when you were present and why you made yourself a cup of coffee, but never drank it. The cup was your fathers, engraved with his initials on the side.

I felt my heart break for you and all I could say was that I was sorry. You didn’t deserve to live with the trauma inside of your wonderful mind and inside your perfect heart. In a way I understood you. My mother had gotten sick, until one day the sickness enveloped her whole until she was left with nothing and I was left with a hole inside my chest. There was nothing else to do for her.

My heart jumped as you stood because it mean you’d leave. I could only look at you as you made your way to the sink (as expected) took a farewell sip of the coffee before dumping it in.

“Have a good day.” I said with a wide smile as you retrieved your backpack and the baby blue cup you seemed to take with you everywhere. At least you stayed hydrated. I knew because you had to go to the restroom often.

You returned it, that beautiful smile that made me want to kneel at your feet and beg you to smile for all of eternity. “Thank you, Namjoon.” And you walked, “Bye mom, love you.”

My smile died as Jimin wrapped his arm around your neck, kissing your cheek. And you smiled. I only looked away, watching you unlock your vehicle and getting inside of it.

This jealousy only seemed to grow. I couldn’t help it. I wished you weren’t someone else’s. I wish that my miserable self had gotten here just a little bit earlier, maybe then you’d have been mine.

But would you have liked me?

I never considered myself someone who others would accept romantically. Growing up, I was a lame excuse of a human being, always too shy, always too quiet and afraid to speak my mind. As I grew older, I got better at communicating with the people around me, but I still stuttered when I spoke, and still struggled to continue a conversation.

It was a blessing and a curse because nobody spoke to me, just as I wanted it to be.

As I wrote, I simply couldn’t focus. All I thought of was you, every day and every second that passed by. No one had ever captivated my mind the way you did. I waited for you in my home right outside in the backyard. There was a small window by the door - the only way to get inside and out. It faced yours and I would always see you once you arrived and came home from school.

We had a routine. You’d see me through the curtains, and we’d smile at each other as I worked and I couldn’t wait until dinner arrived because I’d be in your presence and you’d be in mine.

There was something in your eyes that made me believe that you… wanted me. Was I delusional? I’d see it every single time you’d pull your chair out for dinner. You’d give me a smirk as you made your way next to me and I would only give a small hello and thank your mother for the delicious food that she had prepared. But through it, you’d look at me through the corner of your eye and I would only pretend I didn’t see.

You had Jimin. You weren’t like that. That’s what I truly believed until you came stumbling into my room, drunk in the middle of the night and immediately grabbing onto my shirt and connecting your lips with mine.

My heart had never pounded so fast. It took me by surprise which is why I took a hold of your shoulders and gently took a step back. “What are you doing?” Your eyes were bloodshot, like you’d been crying and I cupped your warm cheeks into my hands and took a glance at your cherry-burgundy lips.

“Do you not want me?” The tone in how you voiced the question made my heart ache; begging and fretful. How could you say such a thing? I have always wanted you, but not like this.

“Come. Sit.” I grabbed your wrist and I sat you on the edge of my bed. “What’s going on? What happened?” I towered over you as you sniffled and looked at me with tearful eyes.

“Jimin, -“

Of course.

“ - he doesn’t want to have sex with me.” You said it so meekly that I almost didn’t hear you. “He - he keeps making excuses about how he wants to wait till marriage, but I mean that is such bullshit! It’s outdated and stupid. Who at this date and age does not want to have sex? He’s not even religious!” As much as it pained me to see the tears falling from your eyes so delicately, I couldn’t help but to feel a sense of victory through your defeat.

Did this mean your relationship with Jimin was coming to an end? It had to, right? You seemed happy at his side, but now, as I saw the proof in front of me, it was all a faux.

But there was also a part of me that felt angry. Was I just your second choice? Would you have come for me and begged for me to bed you if you had other men wrapped around your finger?

“Well, -“ I started slowly, taking a seat to the right of you. “ - sometimes people like to wait, you know, just to be sure that the person they're giving themselves up for is… worth it.”

You sniffled again, wiping at your face. “You - you think he thinks I’m not worth it? We’ve been together for almost two years.”

Remind me, why don’t you.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wouldn’t be able to tell you myself, but a girl like you, you’re worth everything. To give up for, to kill for. Just say the words and you’ll have men at their knees. You decide.”

-

You were taunting me, it was so obvious. With those deliciously roguish eyes that eyed me with want and the skirts that barely covered your bottoms with the shirts that you paired that were the definition of skimpy, I knew what game you were playing.

It was when your arms would stray away from your lap and would just gently touch my arms at dinner, I knew that you wanted me the way I wanted you.

But it was wrong. Although I hated Jimin, I couldn’t help but to think that if I were in his position, your betrayal would wound me like no other. He seemed to love you, yet here you were, teasing me with your sensual eyes and your beautiful body that I absolutely wanted to ravish and worship.

But through the slight guilt I felt, there was a part of me that was… happy. Your mother was a nurse, working mostly every night at the local hospital which left me home, alone with you and with my tumultuous mind. You and Jimin were almost similar it seemed. You’d argue almost every night when he stayed to keep you company.

And though I couldn’t help but to feel jealous, a part of me was comfortable with him at your side because after that night that you came to me for comfort, the virgin wanted to wait until marriage.

My mother raised me right which is why I pushed myself away from listening to your heated match. But how could I? I had never met someone who could screech in anger the way you did to him.

He left soon thereafter, slamming the door with such force that it made my body jump from the sound. I fought with myself to go check on you, maybe you needed your space, but the thought of you crying was enough to do me in. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, climbing the stairs and making my way to you.

The knock on the door was almost timid and quiet, but even when you didn’t answer, I gently opened it, and there you were, in a fetus position laying on your side, hugging a giant teddy bear to your chest.

“Hi.” You whispered looking up at me with those eyes that I loved so much. But they were swollen, and my immediate thought was to comfort you. I didn’t think when I sat at your side, brushing the strands of hair that were at the front of your face.

“Hey, there beautiful.”

You huffed, “I look far from beautiful right now.”

How could you ever think that? You were an angel fallen from heaven.

“Do you think he hates me? I said some pretty shitty things.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes, but for your sake I simply shook my head. “Of course not. I’m sure he understands that people say shitty things when they're angry. I mean, I’m sure he has said some things to you before, no?”

With a shake of your head you maneuvered your body, landing right on your back with the teddy bear on top.

“No, Jimin isn’t like that. He’s quiet in moments like these. I feel like that makes me angrier, you know? Like tell me something, tell me that I’m a bitch or that you hate me, but say something! Anything!”

I understand why he kept quiet. I would never say things of that magnitude to you. It was a disrespect that no one could come back from because you would never deserve it.

“So you like to be degraded?” I teased, raising a brow.

“What?” You chuckled. There it was. Just exactly what I wanted. “Of course not, Namjoon!” I smiled at the playful strike you landed on my thigh. “I’m just saying, I just feel like he doesn’t try to communicate.”

“Well… maybe you need to find someone else.” I couldn’t believe what I was doing. “Someone who could take your needs as theirs and actually knows how to communicate. My mother always said that communication was key in a relationship.”

“But I love him.” I swear, my chest felt like it was struck with something so tight that I couldn’t comprehend. How could you say something like that in my presence? Couldn’t you see how much I loved you?

And through my anger, I couldn’t help but to reply. “Sometimes, loving someone means you have to let them go. I know it’s hard, but I know you know Jimin isn’t good for you. All this arguing, this crying, it will only take a toll on you that you cannot take.”

Your fingertips on my thigh took me by surprise, stroking it with such sensuality as you looked up at me with those eyes that screamed for me to take you to bed. “And how would you know, hm? Have you ever had a girlfriend, Namjoon?”

My breath hitched as your fingers played with the waist of my pants, tugging them down just slightly. “N - no.”

It was a lie. But why bring past mistakes into my future? I hated lying to you, but a little white lie would never hurt.

“No?” You hummed, now on your knees as you came closer. I could feel your breathing and as my hands guided you into my lap, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

My lips connected with yours with such hunger, such intensity. How I longed to hold you close and have you by my side. Your body wrapped around mine felt so right, like a puzzle piece I knew I was missing. Couldn’t you see? We were perfect for each other.

With a small grunt, I laid you down on your bed without separating myself from you, desperately taking off your oversized shirt that you hid your alluring body from. And with hunger, I wrapped my lips around your beautiful breasts, pecking your sternum and making my way down to the waist of your pants. You complied, raising your hips and allowing me to remove the nuisance from your waist.

And what a sight. There wasn’t an inch of you that I couldn’t find a flaw. Stretch marks followed the side of your thighs, and along the middle of your tummy. I kissed them with reverence before my tongue dove inside the place I always wanted to be in.

You tasted absolutely divine. And I was hungry for more as I sucked on the little pearl between your legs, wrapping my hands around your thighs and hugging you closer.

“Namjoon.” You whimpered, and that made me want you even more.

The small little gasp you made made me smirk and I didn’t hold back from bringing you close to the orgasm that you were on the brink of, but I held back. I wanted to be inside of you as I came and held my hold inside of you. You looked up at me as I undressed, my sweatpants on the ground in an instant before I held you tight between my arms and entered the place I had dreamt of being.

Your brows furrowed from the uncomfortableness, it was to be expected as I was your first - the first man that had ever been inside of you. The thought almost brought me to the brink, but I wanted your first time to be loving and special.

And just as I expected, the feeling was euphoric and I couldn’t help but to moan and drop my head in the warmth of your neck. Your hands held my neck tight as you adjusted, soft little pants escaping your precious lips. “I know, sweetheart. I know.” I whispered, giving you soft little pecks on your lips and on your forehead as comfort.

“I - I think you can move.”

“Are you sure?” The furrow in between your brows was gone, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to hurt you, but when you nodded and gave me a smile, I pulled away from the warmth between your legs, and made my way in once again.

At that moment, my dreams were coming true. Jimin was nonexistent as I knew it was the same for you. You muttered my name and my name only as you held me with a vice grip and kissed me on the lips.

I had never been brought to such ecstasy the way I did with you. After you came for the first time before I brought you to more, I soon followed, gasping for breath from the feeling of you holding by cock with such a vice grip.

We took a breath for a second as we giggled like school children and kissed each other hard. But you were insatiable. You wanted for more even as your legs shook with exhaustion and you mounted me and rode me like I was the last man on earth.

But of course, you needed to sleep and your body knew it, and soon after we finished making love, your eyes drooped and you slept so soundly, close to my chest and my beating heart.

I couldn’t help but to stroke your belly. Maybe… my seed would take place inside of you and you’d be pregnant before we knew it. In my mind, I sickly hoped that you were. I knew that I was going out on a limb and that one couldn’t get pregnant with just one night, but I wanted you to be.

I always dreamt of a family. Was I so wrong to want something with the woman I loved?

But the righteous won. We were still young and… Jimin, Jimin was still in the picture. Goddamn Park Jimin. I hated him with everything I had, and I hated my mind even more for ruining the afterglow I was basking in.

With I sigh, I gently kissed the crown of your head, getting dressed with the thought of making my way to a pharmacy and getting you a contraceptive to prevent pregnancy. I knew it wasn’t right.

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and with a glance, my stomach dropped as I read it.

JiHoon: Hey, baby. I loved that little present you gave me. See you soon?

I couldn’t help the tears from forming and with a slam to your door, I left your bedroom, no doubt rousing you from your sleep.

-

I couldn’t stop staring at you. The night you gifted me with stuck to my mind. You gave me something forbidden that I couldn’t come back from. After I left your bedroom, I made my way to the pharmacy, slightly smiling at the only cashier and took the bag with me. I left it on your nightstand, but I couldn’t bear to look as you slept.

You betrayed me.

You kept betraying me. The fight you had with Jimin seemed to be forgotten. You two lovebirds were inseparable the following day. Were you not guilty? Or did you just stick by his side because he was all you knew and you couldn’t let go?

I knew I could give you something better. Something that was worth your time and effort. I’ll take you out of this town that you lived in your whole life and perhaps we could live in the home I grew up in. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough for the both of us.

“Hey, Namjoon.” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You awkwardly looked away and eyed Jimin. You couldn’t even look me in the eyes.

You both sat at the hanging bench that was at the front of your house, your arm wrapped around his. Jimin smiled at me, nodding at my precence, but I didn’t follow. I couldn’t help but to glare. But as soon as it formed, I hid it, immediately smiling bright, looking down at the both of you.

I was feeling messy.

“Did you take it?”

It was obvious I caught you off guard. You gulped, letting out a nervous chuckle. Jimin, of course had no idea about the contraceptive I had bought you, and I took pride and a bit of sick pleasure at your unprepared face

“Take what?” Jimin questioned with furrowed brows.

“Uh - just, I - I had a headache last night, and uh, Namjoon gave me pain killers. That’s it.”

You weren’t a great liar, but you were fast.

“Good.” I nodded, “You should just have a few on hand, you know, for when it happens again because headaches -“ I eyed Jimin, shaking my head, “they’re the worst.”

“Right. You know what, we were leaving. We have a movie to watch.” You stood quickly, taking a hold of your lover's hand and when you walked and I was at your back, I spoke once again.

“You don’t mind if I tag along?”

There was a pause as the birds chirped and Jimin turned. “Uh, yeah sure, why not?” I knew the invite was just a lie, but I knew the man wasn’t going to turn me down; he was kind and simply couldn’t take it.

“I’ll drive.” I offered, my long legs allowing me to walk ahead and just as I wanted, I stood next to you, opening the door to my vehicle and letting you go first. “Thanks.” You muttered.

The drive was… unpleasant. As much as Jimin tried to make small conversation, it simply didn’t go anywhere. I hated to admit, but Jimin wasn’t so bad. He tried his best to make me comfortable and no doubt himself, but I despised him and a part of him knew.

When we arrived at the theater after Jimin kept instructing me where to go, I paid for the tickets and for the snacks. I figured it was the least I could do after I stuck with you both like a leech. Jimin was thankful, patting me on the back and taking a seat on the tables the theater offered. He nodded when you voiced you needed to go to the restroom, and I took a seat, taking a sip of the cherry slushee.

“I don’t mean to pry, but did she tell you what happened last night?” His question caught me off guard.

“She didn’t have to tell me. I heard everything.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, about that, I’m sorry you had to hear that. It’s just - when she gets like that, she can’t stop and it’s difficult to speak.”

Was he seriously blaming you right now?

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I completely understand. Don’t worry about it.”

“You ever had a girlfriend, Namjoon?” Why did it sound like he was mocking me? Did I seem to be below him because I didn’t carry his fair skin and plump pink lips? He was everything I wasn’t - had everything I wanted, and I wanted to punch him until he was left unrecognizable and no one would ever look his way.

“No.” I replied with a shake of my head. “Not really.” He looked at me with confusion. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?

I despised thinking of Anna, and leave it to Jimin to bring back memories I wanted to bury deep in my consciousness. She was a woman who deserved no mercy, not after the way she spoke of my mother, like if she were scum below her shoes.

My mother was the light of my life and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of her and held her close to my heart.

I loved Anna, or at least I thought I did, and I admit, it did hurt me letting her go, but now I know that what I had with her was never love. She was a fiend, and you are an angel.

“I prefer not to talk about it. Do you mind if I go to the restroom?”

“No, of course no -“

I didn’t even let him finish. With caution, I checked my surroundings before I entered the women’s restroom, intently scanning the thin wooden doors of the stalls and once I caught the black Converse’s you wore, I placed my back against the wall, and waited.

The small little gasp of fear that escaped your mouth once you saw me made me smile. “Sorry. I just had to talk to you.” I shrugged, grabbing your wrists to bring you close. I couldn’t deny that it pained me when I went in to kiss you and you pushed me away.

There was confusion written all over my face, it was obvious, and you noticed.

“What the hell are you doing, Namjoon? Jimin is right outside and you can get in trouble if someone finds you in here.”

“I just wanted to talk to you. You - you have been acting weird ever since yesterday. I get it - just come over to my room tonight, yeah? Please? I have something I want to give you.”

You raised your brows. “Another plan B pill?

“Well, if I didn’t get it for you, you might as well could’ve been pregnant at this very moment. If you wanted to have my baby, you could have just said so.”

Would that really have been that bad?

“Don’t be an ass, dude.” With a huff and a roll of your eyes, you turned, making your way to the sink and pumping soap onto your hands. I followed just behind you and took you by the hips.

“Please?” My hands slithered lower and by the look of the reflection, I knew you were craving for more just as much as I was.

“O - okay. Fine. Just, let me go first or Jimin will realize what’s going on.”

“By all means,-“ I gestured with my hand. - ladies first.” And with a stolen kiss I smiled, seeing you walk away and no doubt, into the arms of my mortal enemy.

-

My leg shook with anticipation as I looked at the clock on my desk: 2:36AM. You said you’d be here, so where the hell were you? As soon as we got home from the theater, you said goodbye to Jimin and locked yourself inside your room. I knew because I knocked on your door multiple times before giving up and making my way to the little backyard home I resided in.

I huffed, landing with a thump on my bed, entertaining myself with the charm bracelet that was on my hand. My heart pounded once I heard two little knocks on my door and I instantly stood up and opened the door.

I smiled brightly once I saw you, dressed in a gray v-neck shirt and baby pink pajama pants with cupcakes cluttered on the cloth. “Hey, beautiful. What took you so long?”

You made your way in, taking a seat on my bed. “I took a nap.”

I chuckled and raised a brow. “You don’t take naps.”

Teasing, you replied, getting rid of your slippers and wrapping yourself around my blanket. “And how would you know that? Hm?”

I shrugged, “Through your window. You snore, do you know that?” I laughed out loud when you smacked me with my pillow, gasping with offense. “No I do not! You’re such a little liar!”

This could be our future.

Content and happiness, just you and I. Our home filled with laughs and quick witted banters. Couldn’t you see? We belonged together. I knew it the second I saw you.

“Here.”

My hand was out, presenting you the bracelet that I cherished as a part of me. My mother never took it off, from what I knew, she’d had it in her early teens and kept it since. You meant everything to me now, and it was yours to have.

“It’s beautiful Namjoon.” You gasped, sitting upright, stroking the charms.

“It was my mothers. I want you to have it.” I could see it in your eyes, you wanted to decline, but I wouldn’t allow it. “Please.”

I took a hold of your wrist, wrapping the jewelry around your carpus and connecting the clasp.

“Namjoon, I can -“

“Yes.” I pushed. “You can. I want you to have it. I have no purpose for it. It doesn’t fit and I’d rather it be used than to be locked inside a box without it ever seeing daylight again. Please? It would mean a lot to me.”

You eyed me for a few seconds then sighed. “Okay, fine. Thank you. I promise I’ll take great care of it.”

I didn’t doubt it for a second. You took me by surprise because like a flash of light, you engulfed me and kissed me with need. I didn’t hesitate to reciprocate. In seconds I wrapped you in my arms and our clothes were nonexistent - dropped on the floor in a haste to make ourselves whole.

I will never get enough of you. Your little gasp of pleasure made my tummy fill with extreme need as I entered you and held you close. It was intimate, our love making sounds resounding in my room. You cupped my face, gently stroking as if I wasn’t real and you wanted to verify if I was really there, making love to you.

“I’m here. I got you, sweetheart.”

And I was never letting you go.

-

The frantic 2AM call took me by surprise. It woke me from the deep slumber I was in, but the moment I saw your name on my screen, I didn’t hesitate to disconnect my phone from its charger and answer. I called your name in question and your distraught voice I heard next.

It was distressing, hysterical.

“Namjoon? I didn't know who else to call, but - but can you please come? I - I need your help, I don’t know what I di - he’s not fucking moving -he’s not answering i just pushed him and-

“Breathe, I’m on my way okay, just stay there. Don’t move.”

I don’t think I have ever sped the way I did making my way to you. As I parked my car on the side of the abandoned road, behind the white car with its hazards flashing bright, I knew something had happened.

Something terrible that you had done.

It wasn’t until I stepped out of my vehicle that I saw his limped body on the asphalt, a puddle of scarlet blood oozing from his head. You sat at his side with your knees inside your chest and with your frizzy hair at the front of your face, you looked up at me slowly. “He’s dead.”

-

I would’ve never thought I’d have to get rid of a dead body. A part of me felt disgusted as the monstrous act I had done devoured me whole, but I didn’t feel… guilt.

The immense jealousy that raged within me kept me from doing so. You met him, the bastard that made me cry after I made you mine for the first time, JiHoon, on a deserted road to enjoy hiding your dirty little secret: your adulterous little soul. I wished I understood why you felt the need to run into the arms of another when you had Jimin, you had me and god only knew how many others.

But even then, I still wanted you, through your imperfections and your need to want other men even though they caused me absolute agony. Good riddance to the bludgeoned man who crossed your path. He forced himself on you and there was only one way the night was going to end.

I’d done it to protect you, to keep you sane and perhaps even have you to myself.

The night bound us as one. A clandestine service that we would take to our deaths.

After I placed the cold corpse into my trunk, I took the tiny packet of white substance that laid on the concrete ground, and placed it inside my jeans. It was a good thing you both came in your car. There wouldn’t be any suspiciousness, hopefully, and we’d forget about this illicit night.

“Go home.” I said in seriousness, taking a hold of you by the nape of your hair. I was angry at you that I couldn’t even look you in the eye. “I’ll take care of him.”

You nodded and sniffled, cupping my hand and gently rubbed. “Thank you.”

And with a start of the engine, you raised your window up, and drove away.

-

“Namjoon!” Your mothers voice made my body jerk from surprise. I was on edge, it was human and I wanted nothing more than to get out of the situation I knew would take a while to get rid of. Your mother loved to talk.

“Hello.” I muttered with an empty smile. Your home smelled divine with the aroma of freshly made food, but I didn’t have an appetite. Who would?

“Will you join me today? My sweetheart of a daughter isn’t feeling too well. She came home reeking of god knows what and emptied her guts as soon as she stepped foot in the door.” With a shake of her head, she took a seat, gulping down the glass of wine in an instant.

If only she knew that her ‘sweetheart of a daughter’ wasn’t such a sweetheart after all. She had a dirty little secret and I was her accomplice.

“No. I apologize. I had a long night. I only wish to go to bed, if you do not mind.” I felt terrible for turning her down, but the only thought in my mind was to see you. To nurse you back to health even when I knew that you were traumatized by what you have done.

Your mother sighed and shrugged. “I understand. Have a good night.”

“Do you mind if I go see her? I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

She smiled. “Of course.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. My long legs took me there in seconds and as soon as I walked inside your bedroom, I took a seat beside you. You laid there on your side, your eyes red and swollen from the tears that were nonstop. “Can you lay with me, please?”

Who was I to not obey? I took you onto my chest, cupping your wet cheeks onto my hands. “Shh, baby. It’s okay.”

You muttered as you sobbed. “I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mea -“

“Shh, I know. You did nothing wrong, my love. But I want you to promise something, can you do that?”

You nodded. “You can’t speak to anyone about this, okay? No matter how much you want to. You weren’t there, do you hear me? I wasn’t there.”

Shakily, you breathed and nodded once again. “I understand.”

“But now you know why not to do such a thing, hm? It’s not okay. You’re lying to me, to Jimin all for what? You did something that you will never forgive yourself for, but I want you to know that I will do it all over again, for you. Do you understand?”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

—

After you slept like an angel wrapped around my arms, I left, not wanting your mom to come into your room and find us wrapped around each other.

I had trouble falling asleep, but soon thereafter, sleep found me and I slept soundly. I couldn’t believe I had. Ian hadn’t even crossed my mind. The scoundrel was six feet under and he’ll remain there where no one was to find him. Good riddance.

But you, you would never be the same. You were a murderer. An angel of death that brought a man to his knees for the simple act of crossing your path. And it seemed I was following the same path, I wasn’t dead, but when you would betray me, I would feel death dawn on me, getting closer and closer with every treachery you committed. But yet, you would bring me to cloud nine. How? I would never understand.

But I understood that I loved you. I love you like I have never loved anyone before. And though it suffocated me and drowned me, I always went back for more. I will always go back for more.

“Good morning.” I smiled, pecking the crown of your head as you sat with your legs crossed in the dining room, a fork at your fingertips, playing with the food on the plate. Your mother was gone, no doubt picking up an early shift at the local hospital, but as the doting mother that she was, she had left breakfast at the ready for you.

You gave me a tight lipped smile that made me frown. Your eyes were swollen, almost hollow when you looked at me. He was haunting your mind, his shadow following you, no doubt. But even when I knew, I had to ask. I couldn’t bear the thought of you in pain.

“How are you holding up?”

You shrugged, biting your lips. “I don’t know. Is it weird that I don’t know what I’m actually feeling? I can’t explain it, even though I really really want to.”

“It’s okay to feel that way. You went through something… traumatic, and you won’t bounce back from it as soon as possible. It takes time, but I promise as time continues, it’ll get easier.”

You eyed me. “How do you know that?”

You skeptical little, beautiful thing.

“…I am just placing myself in your shoes, I tend to do that in certain situations. Would you like more breakfast?”

You shook your head, taking one last bite of the egg before standing up. “No, thank you. I'm meeting with Jimin.”

You moved, making your way up the stairs as my jaw clenched in anger, and my words made you stop in your tracks. “Jimin, hm? I - I thought you were ending things with him.”

You turned with furrowed brows, “I never said that.” Will this be the first time I’d feel your fury towards me? It was obvious I’d pushed a button.

“No? I thought the night before might’ve been an answer to your actions. You no longer love him. You have proved it time and time again, have you not?”

“You don’t know shit, Namjoon. I love hi-“

I couldn’t help it, I was infuriated by your nonsense comment that you didn’t mean. “You’re cheating on him with me! You have multiple times. And don’t even get me started on the man that you killed last night because I’m sure you weren’t there only for the coke, or am I wrong? Hm? Why in the hell do you still go back to him!”

“Because I can, Namjoon. Because I can. And it’s none of your fucking business anyway!”

“Yesterday was my business. You had no one else to call because you don’t trust anyone. You trust me! Not Jimin, not even the friends you don’t have, not even your own mother!”

I struck a cord. I gasped when you hurled a glass cup my away and I only managed to move away immediately before it struck me.

“Fuck you, Namjoon! Fuck you!” And with that, you walked away, grabbing your keys from the bowl near the door and slamming the door with such force that it shook the walls.

I stood there paralyzed and it wasn’t until I noticed that my body was shivering with anger? With distress? I couldn’t tell, but I was crying. The tears fell freely after being locked inside for what seemed like years and with blurry vision, I grabbed the broom and picked up your mess that your temper had caused.

That’s what I started to do ever since I met you: pickup after you and the disarray you left behind, and perhaps even myself. You left me in shambles and before I knew it, I was on the ground, on my knees as my shoulders shook from the sobs that escaped my chest.

And there, on the ground, in the depths of hell I felt I was in, I knew you had dug your grave. I loved you with everything I had, but this couldn’t go on any longer.

You had made your choice and I couldn't change your mind.

If I can’t have you, then you will not have anybody else.

-

The anonymous tip came in at midnight. I could see the blinding blue lights coming from the front yard of your house even where I resided.

Three police vehicles made themselves welcome in your yard, and I only knew exactly what was happening. Your mothers voice was louder than usual, hysterical as the officers handcuffed you and declared you your rights, walking you out onto the awaiting SUV. I made myself known, asking with faux concern and holding your mother’s shoulders as she cried, almost wanting to drag herself over to you.

There were tears in your eyes once I finally looked at you. You knew it was me and I held absolute pride even when I truly felt for you. But there was something more important in my eyes that you instantly understood.

My menacing and threatening look in my gaze. I had your mother in my grasp and if you wanted to see her once again - behind bars of course, you’d do best to keep quiet about what I had done. What I did for YOU.

Did you really think I would’ve done such a thing for you without looking out for me? I knew exactly the type of person you were, but yet, I still fell for you deeply, like no else had done - like Jimin never did.

I knew where JiHoons’ body was placed, I knew absolutely everything, and I knew enough not to wipe away your DNA from his body, your hair that I took a hold of after I told you to go home when you murdered him in cold blood.

I placed you on such a high pedestal and I despised knowing that it took me such a long time to comprehend such a thing. But I still loved you so much.

The moment I set my sight on you, I viewed you as an angel fallen from above, a beautiful creature that did no wrong.

But you weren’t an angel.

You were my hell on earth. Though you brought me to such highs, you brought me to a low, and saddened mess. Your loyal puppeteer that you knew you could manipulate just as you wanted because you knew the hold you had on me.

But you made a mistake with me and though I loved you, you had a price to pay.

It’s what you deserved.

Much love.

- Kim Namjoon.

[rosesaints]

help wanted ! chapter two.

pairing: miguel o’hara / f!reader summary: more or less, you agree to be your one night stand's babysitter rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: fantasy and allusions to explicit content series masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

Your first job was working at an ice cream store over the summer when you were sixteen. 

All things considered, it was a relatively easy job and the pay was decent. Take an order, cash the customer out, and scoop. Rinse and repeat. The owner was this sixty-something old lady who had been running the stand in your hometown for as long as you could remember, and was the only employee until that summer when she decided to retire. Your mother had bargained hard with her to get you the job, drastically exaggerating your very limited work experience and bragging about your many, many achievements, “My daughter is just such a go-getter, she won’t let you down!” 

She was very generous and mostly left you to your own devices, so you were free to blast your music and get free ice cream. How hard could it be?

One hot summer day proved you very, very wrong. There was a line out of the door, the owner was nowhere to be seen, the A/C had died on you very early on in your shift, and the ice cream grew runny and unpredictable under the scorching, July heat. You vividly remember the feeling of melted ice cream running down your hands, serving some very lopsided cones to a group of middle school girls as they looked you up and down. You remember the shame, the embarrassment, and the urge to run for the hills. Ice cream dripping everywhere.

You know the feeling tightening in your chest all too familiarly.

Miguel O’Hara and his daughter are looking at you expectantly, and the words keep getting lost on the tip of your tongue. Admittedly, you had never planned on seeing Miguel again after last night. It was a brief moment of confidence and clarity for the first time in weeks, and you don’t even remember the last time you had felt so hot, so wanted. So, so utterly destroyed. You woke up with a pep in your step and felt ready to take on the world.

You make eye contact with Miguel and the memories come rushing back like wildfire. 

He watches you struggle to keep your moans contained, has to gloat as you melt around his cock. “You like watching me stretch it out, don’t you? Say it.” 

Every instinct in your brain was telling you to scurry back to your house and lock yourself in your room for the rest of the summer. You were halfway through formulating a plan on how to best avoid your next-door neighbors when you realize you’re still standing on their porch with a plate of blueberry muffins. 

Miguel, on the other hand, seems completely unaffected, maybe even a bit smug. He’s looking at you expectantly and with the composure of someone who didn’t just rail you in a random bar’s bathroom. “Can I help you?”

Your mouth dries and you can feel your palms sweating under his gaze. “My… my mom sent me over with some muffins. Blueberry. Really good.” Oh my god. 

He raises an eyebrow and leans forward to look over at your house next door, cocking his head just slightly in realization. “You’re the daughter I’ve been hearing so much about? I thought you were still at college.”

“Y-Yeah, I just graduated.”

“Oh. Congratulations,” Miguel looks down at his daughter earnestly, smiling and gesturing to the plate of muffins on the verge of falling over in your hands. “Gabi here has a sweet tooth, and I’m afraid I’m not that good of a baker. Your mom’s been a huge help since the day we moved in.”

The only thing you can do is nod in futile agreement, of course, your mom is just so helpful. Practically a saint. You’re going to need to have a long talk with her later about being too neighborly and offering your help to people. Gingerly, you hand the baked goods over to Miguel and prepare to excuse yourself with a long-winded explanation about how you really should go, they must be so busy–

He beats you to the punch. “So I heard you’re interested in babysitting.”

You swear that you can feel your heart dropping to your stomach. You knew that you could very easily refuse, turn around and go home to pretend this interaction never happened, but then you imagined your mother’s disappointed gaze, returning empty-handed without even considering his offer, thinking about the fact that your parents have been letting you crash at home for free and that this was the only thing they had asked from you to do in weeks. You hardly believe the next words that come tumbling clumsily off your lips, unsure and unsteady. “I… am?”

Miguel grins. “Do you want to come inside and talk about it?”

It’s, quite frankly, a terrible idea. But not nearly terrible enough to stop you from accepting with wide, doe eyes and bringing your feet forward to enter the O’Hara home.

There are a few things you notice when you walk in: his house is spotless. The decorations are few and in between, but they’re classy and timeless. A couple of soccer balls float around the hallway, and it looks like they were working on a puzzle just before you got there. On the walls, there are many, many pictures of Gabi in various areas of the house, Gabi cuddling with a soccer ball when she was less than a year old, framed canvases of Gabi’s past birthdays with cake smeared all over her face, lots of selfies from the infamous Facebook mom angle, but it’s endearing.  You can feel the love pouring out from every single one. 

Not a single photo with a wife, thank god. You don’t know how you could come back from that one.

You’re led into an even more impressive kitchen as he gets Gabi settled into her breakfast, fruit loops with a side of Dora the Explorer as you hear him ruffle her fluffy, brown hair. “Espérame un momento. Sé buena, conejita.” 

Miguel walks back into the room and you wonder what the next best course of action is, where you could even start. Thanks for fucking me into next week, it was really good. I don’t know why my mother is so insistent on me becoming your babysitter. He’s even taller than you remember, handsomer too, and you take the time to revel in just how handsome he was. Warm daylight cast a soft glow on his features, long lashes fanning his high cheekbones, reminiscent of some Roman god you’ve seen in a museum once before—

He’s looking at you with something akin to amusement and you have to quickly pull it together, embarrassed of having been caught missing the last thing he said with your ogling. “I’m sorry?”

“I asked what made you wanna babysit. Your mom told me you have an internship with the Daily Bugle and a few things lined up. I was wondering what made you wanna jump ship all of a sudden,” He smiled lightheartedly, and the room felt a little less tense, a little less fraught on your nerves “Babysitting’s not nearly as glamorous as working with J. Jonah Jameson. Just a little bit similar in terms of the temperament, I guess.”

“Oh,” You feel embarrassed. How does someone explain a failed engagement and the root of your lost prospects to a one-night stand and potentially your future boss? Yeah, my ex-fiance may have gotten me blacklisted from most of the multi-media companies in the tri-state area. Gotta make do with what you have. “You know how it is. Tough job market nowadays, and my mom insists since you guys just moved in. She adores Gabi.”

“She’s a handful,” He laughs, warm and husky and it’s addicting. You can’t help the smile that blooms across your face and he looks endearingly over to the living room. “I actually would really appreciate the help. Her old babysitter’s going abroad this summer and I’ve been searching for a while now for a replacement. If you’re interested, I can tell you more about what I’m looking for?”

“Yes! I mean, yeah. I’m... I’m thinking about it.”

“Well alright,” Miguel’s smile grew, and you felt your heart swell at his approval. Focus. “Can you give me your phone?”

Your brain short-circuited at that moment. “For what?”

“So you can text me when you’ve decided,” His eyes shine with something mischievous, but it feels genuine. It was an innocent and harmless request, and you couldn’t argue with his logic. You probably would have needed his number if you accepted, anyway. “And so I can ask for more muffins in the future.”

He’s tapping his name and number down on your phone, listing out some expectations and requirements for the job that you should probably remember. At that point, you contemplated whether or not he even remembers the events that occurred the night before, wondering how he was acting so casually and discussing the rates of pay of a babysitting job ($30 an hour was pretty damn good), as he hands your phone back to you. 

You thought you were in the clear, ready to make your leave, until you took your phone from him, and something in his gaze shifted, more heated and hungry. 

Miguel murmurs your name, so close all of a sudden. Goosebumps lit your skin on fire as he brushed your hair back, examining the turtleneck you wore. His hand brushed the side of your neck in a manner that was anything but innocent, scrutinizing the fabric with the pads of his fingers and you start to crumble, frozen as all you can do is stand there. “This is different from last night.”

This was the man you had fucked the night before . “I couldn’t… couldn’t let my parents see.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but he continues to mess with your collar, pulling the fabric down just a little bit, just enough to see the assortment of purple and red bruises that marked your neck. His eyes darkened ever so slightly, as he pulled the fabric back up and met your eyes again. “You missed some.”

“What?”

One of his hands drifted down, and you resisted the urge to turn around and check that Gabi was still busy, hoping that she was still wrapped up in her cereal and her show. His hand is rough, calloused, and hot. So, fucking hot . Miguel’s hand stopped suddenly just past your skirt, squeezing the soft skin of your thigh. “Here.”

As you looked down, you noticed that he was right. You could see a vague outline of his handprint beginning to bloom in red on the skin of your thigh, and your breath gets caught in your throat. His smile was sharper, then, more dangerous and he let you go. 

“I’ll be waiting for your decision.”

You were lightheaded and half-delirious as you made your way out of his house, wishing Gabi a quick goodbye as she grins at you happily, thanking you for the muffins with a full mouth of cereal.  The entire walk back to your house, you could still feel him staring, still feel his fingers around your neck, how impossibly full you felt from those hands only the night before—

You didn’t dare to look back.

Practically stumbling through your front door, your heart raced as you faced yet another surprise for the day. Your mother had been waiting in anticipation by the door, wearing an expression of hope and optimism that seemed oblivious to the fact that she had just dropped a bomb on your summer plans. A whole summer with that man? Panic set in as you wondered how on earth you were going to survive this ordeal.

"Well?" your mother asked impatiently, her eyes brimming with curiosity. You glance at the clock and realize you'd been gone for quite some time, leaving her imagination to conjure up all sorts of scenarios. None of them probably held a candle to what actually happened. "How did it go?"

Taking a deep breath, you began to respond, "I told him I'd think about babysitting—"

Before you could even finish your sentence, your mother's squealing interrupted you, a sound that rivaled the exuberance of a lottery winner and surpassed even the joy she displayed when you graduated college, hell, even when you told her you got engaged . Her enthusiasm was infectious, and it left you both bemused and slightly apprehensive.

"Emphasis on thinking about it," you quickly interjected, trying to temper her soaring expectations. "Don't get your hopes up just yet."

But your mother brushed off your cautious words with a dismissive wave of her hand.  "Don't be silly, hon," she asserted, her voice overflowing with conviction. "How could you possibly say no?"

How could you possibly say no? 

Of course, there was only one reasonable course of action to take once you made your way back to the privacy and security of your room, far from your mother’s overwhelming positivity. You looked up “Miguel O’Hara” on your laptop immediately. Your research proved fruitful and abundant, as only a handful of his names were in your area.

For an hour, you found out several things: Miguel O’Hara attended Stanford University nearly nine years ago, played soccer and track on a full-ride, and majored in their Bioengineering program with a minor in Ethics and Society and Spanish. Since then, he worked his way up the ladder starting as an intern for Alchemax International, and was currently one of their lead geneticists, with about a dozen  awards and articles about him with lofty descriptions like, “A genius in the field of genetics.” 

Before Gabi, his Instagram was sparse, with soccer game photos, picturesque screencaps of Stanford, and updates about his genetics research here and there. Five years ago, it felt like he came alive, a million vibrant little photos and updates of Gabi and her penchant for soccer spreading to every corner of his feed. There were bright, wide smiles on every slide, and you could tell that she was the light of his life, the focus of all his efforts.

Still, no wife in sight, and you release the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding.

Diving deeper, you saw that he also coached your hometown’s little league girls’ soccer team and you briefly smiled at one of his posts with all the girls and their new trophy, with Gabi at his shoulders and flashing toothy grins at the camera. There’s so much pride, so much joy in just one photo. 

And then as recently as two months ago, they had moved into the house next to yours. It explained why you had virtually heard nothing about them when you were in college, too caught up in the haste of graduating and setting up your internship, setting up a life with your fiancé—

There’s a nervous, pregnant pause as you remembered the life you were on the cusp of just a month ago. At that moment, you were supposed to be interning at the Daily Bugle, accompanying reporters to events and press conferences, diligently editing and proofreading, and hauling ass through the bustling streets of New York, clutching cups of coffee in your hands—This dream that you used to fantasize and romanticize for the longest of times, and all you feel is hollow. 

Instead of bustling around a lively apartment that wasn’t entirely yours , discussing wedding plans over takeout and Netflix, you were sitting alone in the familiar confines of your childhood bedroom. Cross-legged, you contemplated how you allowed yourself to be swept up in someone else's plans, losing sight of your desires along the way.

The past three years replayed in your mind like a worn-out tape, each day blending into the next as exhaustion seeped into your bones. The weariness, the constant drain of energy, was your constant companion as you followed the path your fiancé had paved for you. 

But now, there was a flicker of realization that ignited within you— didn’t you deserve a break? Didn’t you deserve some fun? 

Your eyes hazily drifted back to the laptop screen before you, illuminating the room with its gentle glow. You think of bergamot and crisp green leaves, a summer well spent at your neighbor’s house, blueberry muffins, soccer fields and dark, dark eyes. The answer seemed clear as day.

No use in lingering in something as foolish as what could have been, when you had something right in front of you. 

At dinner, the room was filled with the sounds of clinking silverware and the gentle hum of conversation about each other’s days. Dinner was a familiar meal your mother had fretted and labored over for the better part of the day, something warm and distinctively comforting from your childhood. The sun’s just barely setting outside, casting the room in a warm, orange glow and everything feels normal, less daunting.

It’s nice, you had been forgoing dinners with your parents in favor of takeout in bed with your favorite trashy reality show during your first few weeks with them. You had forgotten that despite the way that your life had been abruptly upended in recent memory, you had managed to resurface with relative ease due to their support.

But glancing across the table at your mother, you felt a little bit less supported, her face contorted in what she believed to be subtlety, struggling to contain her curiosity and eyes brimming with unasked questions. She was trying to feign nonchalance, attempting to appear casual while her anticipation was clear from across the dining table.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, she seized the moment. Her voice carried a hint of hope, laced with the yearning for a resolution. "So are you done thinking about it?"

Caught off guard, you momentarily froze, your mind scrambling for a response. You mustered a reassuring smile, trying to cloak whatever lingering uncertainties you had left. This was the woman who had been your biggest cheerleader, who had picked you up off the side of the road after you lost your first job at the ice cream stand, took you to Ben & Jerry’s straight after, and cut off ties with your old manager like it was nothing. You smiled. “Yeah. I think I’m going to take up Mi–Mr. O’Hara on his offer.”

If your parents noticed any slip-ups in your wording, they don’t mention it.

“You know, isn’t it just delightful that there’s no Mrs. O’Hara in the picture—”

“Mom, we have got to talk about boundaries. Seriously,” You nearly drop your fork into your food, aghast by what your mom just implied. “He’s our neighbor.”

It was late at night, bolstered by a surge of courage, when your fingertips danced hesitantly over the screen of your phone, lingering above the name "Miguel O'Hara." You consider your first text to him heavily on your lips, testing the weight of each word as you typed and re-typed over and over.

Hey! So, I've made up my mind—I'm in for the babysitting gig! 

Not quite.

Guess what? I've decided to accept your babysitting offer! 

Not quite satisfied with that either, you take a deep breath and decide to go for a more straightforward approach.

Hey Miguel! I've been doing some thinking, and I'd love to babysit Gabi! Just let me know when you need me, and we can work out the details.  

With your heart racing, you pressed the send button and watched as the message turned blue. The dots of his reply began immediately. Stopped. Began and stopped again. Then:

Can't wait :) I’ll see you on Monday? 

You could have thrown the phone right through the wall. Oh, you were down bad .

Shaky fingers gripping your phone, you’re filled with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation, reading and rereading his response. You haven’t felt this giddy since… forever. The smile on your face grew wider with each passing moment, and you couldn't help but feel the same surge of confidence you felt the night before coursing through you.

He’s everywhere, all-encompassing. You feel him along the shell of your earlobe, whispering something absolutely shameless and incorrigible to you. It has the desired effect, your heart stuttering with desire and your sweet cunt tightens around his cock in anticipation.  He places a finger on your lips and his, slick with your arousal still, and beckons you gently to still. Be quiet. 

Then his teeth are sinking into your skin, hard. 

“Look at you,” Miguel murmurs, drawing tight circles over your nipple as you cry out silently.  “Shameless.” 

Your hands are entangled in his, reaching every which way, and you babble, mindlessly, without a thought of decency as you scratch your fingers through the lean skin of his back, mouth watering at how perfect he is for you, how his size fits inside you like a glove. Running your tongue over the long muscle of his neck, tasting the salt and cinnamon and and sucking a bruise in the same spot where he had kissed and suckled the night before. 

His dark and heavy lashes flutter; his head dropping impossibly close to yours, and then he’s begging for something against your jaw, thrusts growing uncontrolled, his hips catching as his cock twitches in you.  

You can’t say anything back.  Your breaths come out ragged and strained, crooning until he hits something deafening inside you, and then the feeling spreads across your body like wildflower and it’s so hot, it’s searing and you just want him to move, unable to function with the way he just holds there right up against that spot and lets you both feel each other like this for a second. 

You don’t want him to stop; you never want this to end. It feels so good being full of you,  you mumble. 

“Let me taste you, cariño,” His voice is filled with need, to the point of growling. It’s different— 

You can’t help the whine that escapes your breathless lips as you wake up in a hot flash, realizing that you’re still within the confines of your bedroom. 

Monday couldn’t come fast enough.

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-eleven

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: This is a long one so buckle up and enjoy! The heartbreak doesn't end here.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse

"Are you sure you don't want to come out with us?" Bryan asked as the two of us walked around backstage.

I nodded. "Yeah, I want to spend as much time with my mom as I can before we leave tomorrow night."

"Maybe we can get some time before the show and I can show you the programs I used to edit my photos."

"I'd like that," I smiled.

We talked another few minutes until we reached the green room where he held the door open for me as I walked in seeing Noah and Jolly in the room. Both Nick's headed back to the house for the night, both wanting some time to themselves. Noah, Jolly, and Bryan were going out to a local bar tonight for a few drinks to celebrate being back home for two nights and first night of a sold out show.

Hearing us walk in, Noah looked towards us and when our eyes locked memories of us in the closet earlier tonight rushed back into my mind causing my face to flush. Tonight during the show, I could focus on work by taking pictures or videos of the guys so I had little time to think about Noah and me. Now, however, seeing him sit there in his black cargo pants and blank tank top with his chin resting in his hand, all I could think about was the way he tasted on my tongue.

It wasn't an official way to ask me out, but we both agreed that we were each other's and Noah said that he was here for me with whatever I needed, and I believed him.

"Hi," I smiled while walking towards him.

"I thought you left already," Noah reached for my hand and pulled me into his lap.

My legs dangled over his lap as I sat sideways on him. We shared a soft kiss then as I pulled away; I noticed a smile playing on his lips.

"I wanted to say goodbye before I do," I said, fingers toying with the silver chain that hung around his neck.

His long fingers grazed over my thighs. "You don't want to come out with us tonight?"

"It sounds like fun but I want to be home when my mom wakes up so I can spend some time with her."

It was just after eleven in the evening and Lana texted me a few hours ago to let me know my mom had a good night and was asleep in bed. I thought about going out with them but truthfully; I was exhausted and couldn't wait to sleep in my bed even if it was for one night.

"Maybe we can grab dinner before the show tomorrow," he suggested with hopeful eyes.

I nodded. "I'd like that."

Noah patted my thigh to have me stand up and when I did he followed while linking our fingers together. "I'm going to walk her to her car then we can head out."

Jolly nodded, and bidding him and Bryan goodnight, I let Noah walked me out of the venue and to my car in the parking lot. Our hands swung together and every so often, Noah's thumb would brush over mine, the gentle touch warming me.

"Let me know when you're home?" Noah asked when we came to a stop in front of my car.

"Only if you do the same," I shot back with a playful smile.

Noah wrapped his arms around me so he could pull me into his chest, his lips dropping to meet mine in a kiss that started as slow but when my hands grabbed a fistful of his shirt, I forced my tongue into his mouth. He moaned into the kiss and I felt myself being guided backwards until my back hit the cold metal of my car.

"Angel," Noah hissed when my nails scrapped underneath his shirt, over his stomach.

I rutted my hips up into his, needing that same friction from earlier. When his thigh pushed my legs apart so I could rub my core against it, my head fell back onto my car as the ecstasy filled me like a high. Noah pressed his thigh into me harder when his hands gripped me hips, guiding me over him. Just like that night in the Airbnb.

My insides ignited as an orgasm began to slowly build. The taste of it was sweet on my tongue as I devoured Noah's mouth. I was a woman starved and the only way to fill that hunger was to feast on him, in every way.

"Noah," I broke the kiss reluctantly so I could look into his eyes.

They were blow wide with lust and as much as I wanted this to continue; I knew I had to get back home to let Lana leave.

With one final hard kiss, I gently pushed Noah away, him whining in protest.

"I have to go," I whispered, voice laced with arousal.

Noah brought my hand to his mouth, leaving a few kisses across my knuckles. "I'll call you?"

"You better," I pecked his lips before sliding into my car.

Through the rearview mirror, I noticed he watched me the entire time I drove through the lot until I turned left, disappearing from his line of sight. The drive home was quick thanks to not having many people driving and as I pulled into the driveway, I noticed the kitchen light was one.

"Lana?" I called out while stepping through the threshold.

I left my bags near the front door since I would need them tomorrow and walked into the kitchen, seeing Lana drinking a cup of tea. Her grey hair was falling out of his perfect high bun and the lines in her forehead were creased tight, the darkness of the bags under her eyes made me realize she was exhausted.

"Go home, Lana," I took the empty mug from her and helped her out of the chair. "Enjoy the day off tomorrow. I'll have a neighbor watch my mom tomorrow night so you don't have to worry about coming back until the following morning."

She hesitated while grabbing her jacket. "Are you sure, dear?"

"Yes," I nodded firmly. "You deserve it. I'll call you tomorrow."

I walked her to the door, and we bid goodnight with a hug and I watched until she made it safely to her car before shutting the door and locking it. With all the lights shut off downstairs, I slowly climbed the stairs as a loud yawn fell from my lips and after peaking on my mom seeing she was fast asleep, I entered my room. It looked exactly the same way I left it weeks ago.

As I fell into bed, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Make it home, angel? -Noah.

Seeing his name grace my screen my heart flutter as I typed out a reply.

Yea. I'm about to pass out so I'll talk to you in the morning. Be safe and have fun tonight. Don't let too many girls flirt with you.

I sent another text with the emoji sticking its tongue out, letting Noah know I was kidding.

Mostly.

Noah's response was immediate, but I didn't see it until way later after I was retreating from the bathroom, freshly showered and in a pair of pajamas.

You're the only one for me. Sweet dreams. I'll let you know when I'm back home so you don't worry.

With a smile covering my entire face and heart swarming with butterflies, I snuggled closer into the familiar bed and let the exhaustion of the day carry me into the darkness.

Burning eyes filled with unfamiliarity but hatred. Anger radiating like an aura in the room. Deep shallow breaths fanning over my exposed skin. Muttering voices chanting something over and over.

Was this a dream?

It had to be.

But why did this dark presence looming over me with vacant eyes feel so real?

My body jerked awake with a start as the chanting became louder, more persistent.

"Get out! Get out! Get out!

Glass shattered next to me and I scrambled out of bed just intime for a bat to be swung at my head, nearly missing me and instead hitting the wall behind my bed. The noise of drywall splitting sounded in my room and I stumbled to my knees on the bed as I tried to gain my barrings. I was still in my room and it was the middle of the night, the soft hue of the moon breaking though my curtains, and glass lamp that was on my bedside table lay on the ground in a shattered mess.

"What the fuck," I cursed, ice cold fear filling my veins.

My mom stood at the edge of my bed with a death grip on a metal bat that she swung wildly again at me, this one I didn't get out of the way fast enough. It hit me in the knee causing me to tumble to the ground below.

I hissed out in pain, tears spilling from my eyes as I clutched my knee.

"Get out of my house!" My mom screamed as if she was possessed. "This is my house! You don't belong here!"

She made her way towards me again, ready to swing the bat for a third time, however this time I was ready; not much faster because of my shattered knee, but I could still scramble out of the way. I dragged my leg behind me as I rolled over the bed while my mom jumped over it.

"Mom, its me!" I cried. "Y/N, your daughter!"

My mom shook her head wildly. "I don't have a daughter. I have a son and his name is James."

I blinked, standing frozen in front of her. While she constantly forgot who I was, she mentioned nothing about having any other kids. As far as I knew, I was an only child.

Maybe her brain was so far gone that she was making up lives now?

"There is no James!" I yelled. "It's just me; Y/N!"

My anger and hysteria probably wasn't helping during her manic episode but my knee had doubled in size because of the smack from the bat and right now, I wasn't thinking clearly.

"NO!"

My mothers scream bounced off the walls as she began destroying almost everything in my room with the bat; pictures on the wall, the window, the mirror, my old computer, and television. Glass rained down around me as I slunk up against the wall, tears flowing from my eyes down to the floor as the sounds of destruction drowned my sobs out. I covered my ears with my hands as I slide down along the wall, hoping that maybe this was a dream and I'd wake up any second.

I'd never seen my mom like this and Lana mentioned nothing like this. As far as we knew, as long as my mom took her medication, she wouldn't have these episodes. And Lana was sure my mom was taking them.

"M-mo-mo-." I choked out, scratching at the skin of her wrists.

She somehow pinned me to the ground, her hands wrapped tightly around my throat while I fought underneath her. My mom was typically a small women and any other moment I'd be able to overpower her but because of her episode, it was as if she gained super human strength.

Wild eyes stared down at me, death the only thing I could see behind them and as my vision blurred around the edges, I felt my fight give way. Everything in me fading back to the darkness but this time, I was afraid I'd might not wake.

I tried once more to claw at my mom to get her off but that must have angered her more because teeth bit down on the skin of my neck and I screamed out in pain.

"You don't belong here! Get out before I call the cops!"

Nails scratched against my face as she slapped me, blood pooling into my mouth from the cut on my lip. I spat out the copper taste but all it did was dribble down my chin.

She reared her hand back to slap me again and using this small opening to my advantage; I rolled my hips up and around causing her to fall off of me. My feet did typical cartoon run in place as I climbed to my feet and ran as fast as I could to my bed where my phone lay.

My finger shook as I unlocked it but because of the tears, I could barley see the screen. Hearing loud noises coming from downstairs, I limped my way to the banister of the stairs and could see my mom trashing the house, screaming so many things that I couldn't tell what was real or not.

"I have a son, his name is James."

"Where's Lincoln? He'll know what to do. He can get this witch out of here."

"Get out! Get out! GET OUT!"

Who the fuck is Lincoln and James? My dad's name was John and as I thought, I was an only child.

Fearing for my life, I slid down each step on my ass since I couldn't bend my knee and as I did, I could feel blood trail down my neck from where my mom bit me and the split lip burned as my tears rolled over my face.

She was in the living room ripping apart pictures from the photo book on the coffee table and I couldn't be bothered to care that it was my baby book; I needed to get to the kitchen to hide the knives.

Once they were locked in the liquor cabinet, I let out a few deep, shaky breaths and wiped my face clean of any tears. My fingers still shook as they clicked on Noah's name, his number dialing immediately.

"Hey it's Noah. Leave me a-."

Straight to voicemail so I tried again.

"Hey it's Noah. Leave me a-."

I hung up before redialing only to be met with the same thing. Two more times and the same fucking thing.

"God damnit, Noah!" I cursed with a sob. "Why aren't you answering?!"

By now my mom had moved to the office off of the living room and was ripping apart the desk, papers flying about.

No other option left, I dialed Folio's number and crossed whatever part of my body I could that he would answer.

On the third ring, his sleepy voice brought me immediate ease.

"Lo'?"

"Folio!" I sobbed while clutching the phone. "Oh, fuck!"

My mom hurled a book towards my head, and I ducked behind the kitchen island, missing it.

"YN?" Folio's voice was more alert now hearing my sobs. "What's going on?"

I sniffled. "Where's Noah? His phone goes straight to voicemail."

There was rustling on Folio's end for a few seconds. "Bryan's. Noah had a few beers and didn't want to drive home. His phone must have died."

I banged my head against the cabinets behind me. "What the fuck."

"What's going on?" Folio asked again, this time more urgency in his voice. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head with fresh tears. "No, I need your help. Please, Folio. I can't stop her. She's going to destroy everything and hurt me."

"Who?!"

Sobs plowed through me as my shoulders shook. "My mom."

Folio cursed, and it sounded like he was getting dressed. "Let me call try calling Bryan to wake up Noah and he can.-"

"No!" I interrupted. "He's atleast thirty minutes away. You're staying at his and Jolly's place right?"

"Yeah."

"You're closer. Please Folio, I don't know who else to call," I screamed when my mom began throwing plates from the cabinets from the other side of the kitchen island. "Hurry!"

Before hanging up, I rambled off my address and Folio promised he would get to me as soon as he could. Once off the phone with him, I tried to call Noah again.

"Please pick up," I begged.

"Hey it's Noah. Leave me a-."

I screeched and threw my phone on the floor, it not breaking, at hearing his stupid fucking voicemail once again. This was exactly why I didn't want to tell him anything. The one time I really needed him, Noah wasn't there.

Did he even text me to check in after he left the bar?

Not caring at the moment, I gripped the counter and hauled myself to my feet. My knee was so swollen and the surrounding bruising looked nasty. It wasn't broken since I could put a little pressure on it but it was sure going to have some insane bruising for a while.

I noticed my mom was standing in the middle of the kitchen, still clutching that damn bat and covering the floor was various sizes of shards of glass. A loud hiss fell from my lips when a piece cut the sole of my foot.

"Mom?" I hesitated moving towards her. "Give me the bat."

Through the corner of my eyes, I could see the destruction she caused but couldn't dwell on it right now; I needed that fucking bat.

My mom gripped it tighter. "Who are you?"

The way my heart shattered, pieces falling to the pits of my stomach made a broken sob escape me. I was so tired of explaining who I was to her. With a quick glance to the kitchen table, I noticed Lana left her medical bag here and could faintly make out the small vial and syringe. She told me that medication was strictly for emergencies, and she would only use it for such.

Though, she wasn't here, and this was an emergency.

"Give me the bat," I tried again while extending a hand to her. "Please."

My mom's eyes darted to the bat then back to me before the metal clanged to the floor and I let out a breath of relief. She lowered herself into the one standing upright chair and using this as an opportunity; I ripped a piece of paper towel off the holder and pressed it to my bleeding neck, hissing in pain, not worrying about the one on my foot right now.

"Fuck," I cursed when I looked in a mirror that was hung on the opposite wall of the fridge.

The bite wasn't terrible but it would leave a mark. The bruising of fingers around my throat made me swear again under my breath. They were deep and purple already and knew that I would have to explain it to Noah.

Hell, I would have to explain this whole mess to Folio when he arrived.

Suddenly, there was pounding on the front door and when my mom made no move to answer, back into her catatonic vacant state, I dragged my foot behind me as I shuffled down the hallway to the front door. Immediately once it opened, Folio bounded inside ready to fight whoever was causing me harm until he looked around at the destruction then finally to me.

"Shit," he breathed while cupping my face. "Are you alright?"

"No," I cried while burying my face into his chest.

His large hand soothed my back as his soft voice hushed my cries. I stayed in his arms, shaking and crying, for a long while until there was no tears left and my breathing calmed. Folio then slowly pulled me away from his chest so he could look into my eyes.

"What happened here, Y/N?"

I stammered, not knowing where or how to start. Everything happened so fast that my brain was still trying to comprehend it all. However, before I could, I washed pushed to the side as my mom came barreling through the front entryway, hands wrapping around Folio's throat.

His eyes were wide as he watched me fall to the ground onto my bad knee and I bellowed out in pain. I bit down on the inside of my cheek so I didn't cry and pulled myself slowly to my feet. I was done crying; I needed to grow a fucking pair and deal with my mom; who currently was doing her best to choke Folio out.

"I told you not to come back here Jonathan! You're not welcome here. She's not yours anymore."

What the actual fuck?

My mom thought Folio was my father? Who's not his? And why wasn't my father welcomed home any more?

Too many questions, not enough time to deal.

"Mom, get off of him!" I tried to pry her off but like how it was on me, her grip was a death lock.

Folio stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Since he was stronger than me, he could handle my mom's weak hands around his throat. I glanced over to my shoulder into the kitchen where Lana's bag still sat and not giving it a second thought; I hobbled my way over to it and snatched the vial and syringe. Lana mentioned before that my mom needed little to knock her out so filling the syringe with what I'd assume was a good enough amount, I snuck up behind my mom. Just in time to see her remove her grip from Folio only to scratch down his neck. He hissed out a few curses while touching the fresh red marks.

"Lincoln told you to stay away from us! Y/N is not your daughter. Stay away!"

The needle pricked the skin of his neck, and I forced the liquid into her bloodstream. It was exactly like how it was in the movies. Two seconds of my mom's hand dropping away from Folio for her to turn around facing me was all it took before she fell to the ground in a heap.

Thankfully, Folio scooped her up at the last second before she hit.

"Can you legally administer that?" He asked with curious eyes.

I shrug and wipe the snot from my nose on the back of my hand; I must look a mess right now.

"I had no other choice. She wouldn't stop."

I followed his gaze from my mom to the stairs.

"Upstairs. Second bedroom on the left." I told him, finally taking a much needed breath of air.

While he took my mom back to her bedroom, I stood there like a deer in headlights as her last words replayed in my mind.

"Y/N's not your daughter!"

She thought Folio was my dad, or well who I thought was my dad. So if Johnathan wasn't my father, who was?

Lincoln?

"No," I muttered while shaking my head. "She made these people up in her mind. They don't exist."

If my dad wasn't actually my dad, they'd tell me.

Right?

"Y/N?"

I turned on my heels only to cry out in pain as it jerked my bad knee and I gripped the railing of the stairs so I could keep myself upright.

"Shit, you're bleeding," Folio carried me bridal style over to the couch and brushed away the torn pictures before setting me down. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Kitchen sink."

While he rummaged for it, I pulled out my phone to call Noah. This time it rang. And rang. And rang. Until his damn voicemail picked up.

Well, since it was ringing maybe he finally put it to charge.

I noticed I had an unread message from Noah just after two in the morning.

Angel, my phone is going to die. If you need anything, text Jolly. We're staying at Bryans. I'll call in the morning.

When I looked to the clock on my phone, my heart fell into my ass. It was almost six in the morning. How long had I been dealing with my mom before Folio came? How long had my mom been standing over my bed?

Shivering at the thought, I saw Folio return with the first aid kit in his hand. He sat on the coffee table in front of me and began working on cleaning the cut on my foot.

"Asshole," I spat when the peroxide touched my skin.

He chuckled before his usually happy face turned serious.

"What the fuck happened? And don't give me some bullshit excuse, Y/N. You cut your foot, your lip is busted, you've got a nasty bite mark on your neck. I don't even want to look at your knee because it looks fucked up."

My head fell, disappointment fleeting every other emotion in my body. He already knew something about my mom and now what he saw, I couldn't lie to Folio any more. So with a very deep breath, I told him everything. From the first few months after my moms diagnosis to Lana staying with her while I was on tour with him and the rest of the guys. I even talked about how I was struggling to pay Lana and the rest of my bills so I started an Only Fans page.

His gaze lifted from cleaning the wound on my neck to my eyes as I kept them straight ahead. My cheeks burned with shyness, knowing that he understood finally why I had nudes on my phone.

"That's why you had the nudes on your phone?" He asked, shocked.

I shrugged. "It was the only way I could think to make extra money. This was before the promotion but even then, it wasn't enough."

Folio tossed the soaked cotton of peroxide into the pile with the rest of them then taped a small piece of gauze on my neck. As he sat farther back on the table, he softly lifted my bad knee into his lap so he could look at it. I was wearing my cotton pajama shorts, so it was easy for him to see.

"Does Noah know?"

"No. He doesn't know any of this. Not about my mom or the Only Fans. It's bad enough that I'm posting pictures of myself naked when we're somewhat dating. He'd be so hurt if he found out."

Folio hummed under his breath. "You need to give Noah more credit. He wouldn't force you to stop something unless you wanted too. And he'd be by your side helping you deal with your mom."

I snorted. "Right. Then how come he isn't here?"

Folio gave me a look that screamed 'don't pull that shit' and I slunk back into the couch suddenly feeling terrible for blaming Noah for something that technically wasn't his fault. He texted me when he got back to Bryan's and let me know his phone died.

But how could he not hear the constant ringing of his phone?

"Well," Folio's soft voice brought me back from my thoughts. "I don't think it's broken since you can bend it but I'm still going to wrap it, so you don't strain it even more."

I nodded and let him work on wrapping my knee, still trying to understand everything that happened.

Was what my mom said the truth or all lies? If it was the truth, how could she remember that but now who I was?

Once he finished, Folio gently set my leg down and pressed a finger to the two scratches on his neck.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, guilt lacing my voice.

He waved me off. "It's alright. I'll be fine."

"I should clean it," I offered.

Again, Folio waved me off. "You need to rest that knee. Sit back and I'll make you something to eat before I get started cleaning up."

That made me sit up with a start before letting out a groan of pain.

"You're not cleaning this up, Folio. You should go back and get some sleep. Don't you have to be at the venue by noon for sound check?"

He forced me to lie down on the couch and dropped a blanket over me. "I'll be fine, Y/N. I'll pound a few coffees then a few beers and be good to go."

I didn't laugh or even chuckle as he disappeared into the kitchen for some time. This was not his mess to clean up but the fact that he will without a second thought made me realize how great of a friend he'd become.

"I think maybe you should stay home tonight. You shouldn't be jumping around on stage taking pictures." Folio came back into the living room with a tray that had a steaming cup of coffee and a plate full of eggs and toast.

I thanked him with a greedy smile and took a long sip of the coffee, almost moaning in delight at the richness of it.

"To be honest, I think it's best that I leave the house before my mom wakes up. Clearly me being around isn't helping her," I said with a sad smile.

Folio left a kiss to the top of my head. "It'll all work out. Are you going to tell Noah?"

I thought about his question for a long moment, eyes staring down at my phone hoping he would call.

"I-uh-I think it's best that I focus all my time with getting my mom the help she needs. A relationship would only complicate it."

"Knock knock!" A voice called out.

Mine and Folio's heads snapped over to the front door as Lana stepped through the doorway.

"Dear, I forgot my medical bag so I-."

Lana's voice died off when she took in the mess of the house then when she saw me laying on the couch bandaged up, she scurried over to me in a panic.

"What happened?!" She demanded. "Who did this to you?!"

Her gaze snapped over to Folio when she noticed him standing there and eyed the marks on his neck with a curious eye.

"Okay, I know you kids nowadays are into some pretty rough sex but this is ridiculous," Lana pointed at me.

Seeing Folio blush was undoubtedly the cutest fucking thing but I couldn't enjoy it, even though my own cheeks burned, because I needed to tell Lana the truth.

"Lana, this is Nick Folio. He's the drummer for Bad Omens," I introduced the two.

Her blue eyes sparkled. "Ah yes. He works with Mr. Sebastian."

Folio chuckled. "It's nice to meet you. I'll let you two catch up while I bring some more coffee."

After he was out of earshot, Lana sat on the couch next to me and took hold of my hand.

"He's very cute, dear." She winked.

I rolled my eyes with a laugh. "He's just a friend, Lana. A really good friend that I could count on when I needed someone."

Unlike someone else.

"What happened to the house?"

With a firm squeeze of a hand, I forced myself to utter the words I never wanted to say.

"We need to talk about putting my mom in a facility."

[papurgaatika]

All The Quiet Nights You Bear

Pairing: din djarin x gn!reader

summary: Din Djarin is not warm, he does not drink hot drinks, or sit in steamy baths. But for you, he can try.

Tags: angst, din djarin my sweet boy,, bathing, yes this is just giving Din a bath, fluff, hurt/comfort but I'm hurting all of you and comforting him, mention on Din's mother, angst with a happy ending, tooth-rotting amounts of intimacy, non-sexual nudity, no use of Y/N and no description of reader

word count: 1.8k

A/N: Before I start! This is my first official fic that wasn’t a bullet-pointed list I keep in a locked notes app on my phone so I am begging y’all to please be gentle with me. I want to give a MASSIVE shout-out to @joelsdagger for not letting me off the hook and making sure I stick with this, literally would not have been able to do this without her. So the fic: basically I got in the shower one day and thought about Din just being soft, and thus this was born! Fair warning that I Will by Mitski was in heavy rotation while writing this. I literally love him like a real person and he makes my heart hurt and I want to take care of him, so I got self-indulgent. I also don't really know the star wars universe so this is me making shit up as I go!! Anyway!! Peace and love from me I hope y'all love it as much as I do!!

Din Djarin is cold. He slept under the thin sheet he kept in the bunk of the crest for years, his beskar was always cool to the touch, he took cold showers. The idea of warmth never put him at ease either. It seeps into him, clinging to his body under his armor, reminding him of his blaster right after setting it off. He wants to crawl out of his skin anytime he finds himself on a dry planet, sweltering under its suns. 

Din wasn’t used to just how quiet life ended up being on nevarro. Grogu was in school most days, there was relative peace in the area, yet he still found himself clinging to his old self. Never relaxed, always on edge like he was waiting for a fight to break out. You find yourself watching him more closely, recognizing his routines, wanting to put his mind at ease. But how could you? He still took cold showers, quick and precise about it. Never lingering to enjoy the feel of water on his skin, never stopping to relax.

He thinks that the last time he truly took a hot shower was before he took the creed, when his parents were still alive, when he was only Din Djarin the boy, not a mandalorian. It hurt him to think about it, to picture his mother. Her face had grown fuzzy in his memory after decades without her, but he could feel her. The way her eyes were always soft and warm, her voice like the gentle rain that lulled him to sleep when he was young. He missed her. He missed the way she used to hum while warming the water for his bath, the smile on her lips when he would run up to her. He had tried once, to take a warm shower, to try and remember the oils his mother used to use when he was young. It had ended in him slouched over in the bathroom, the steam almost too much, silent sobs tearing through him. So no, din djarin did not take hot showers. 

But you? You were warm. So warm he felt like he was melting every time he even thought about you. The way you kissed his fingers, the gentleness you have while holding Grogu, the look in your eyes when you lay with him. You were all warm showers. The steam that tumbles after you when you open the door lingers around you like it's trying to surround you, to crowd your senses, to be all over you. Everything that din wants to do to you. He would chase after you throughout the whole galaxy if it meant you would say his name, soft and sweet like he was being saved just by hearing it. 

You were the only warmth that he craved. The only heat he allowed himself to enjoy, to truly want. And so when you call him over to the bathroom, voice soft and gentle, he comes. He will always come to you. You smile when he enters the room and takes in the scene in front of him. The bathtub full of water, steam rising from above it. You, with an expression warm enough to rival the water, eyes locked on his. “Come here,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. He was uncharacteristically slow to move towards you, but you stood there, hand still waiting for his. Your hand took his, your thumb tracing over the side of his fingers so soft he could barely feel it. “Din-” you whisper looking up at him, “let me take care of you, sweet boy” 

That was your boy. The one you were working so hard to melt, to make him soft around the corners. It was rare that he wore the armor anymore, his days usually spent at home with you and Grogu, the need to hide no longer necessary. You bring his knuckles to your lips as a silent promise to be gentle, to not let him break. “Is that okay?” you ask, hand still holding his. 

He nods, not trusting his voice nearly as much as he trusts you, and you smile. God that smile. Din Djarin would live in that smile if he could. The only smile he thinks will be in his mind like his mother’s. You reach for the hem of his shirt, not pulling at it yet, just letting your fingers rest on top of it waiting for any indication that he was okay with it coming off. You hear a small hum leave his throat and you help him take it off. This was a sight you would never tire of seeing. Tan and broad, his tummy soft under your fingers likely because of your cooking, and god was he beautiful. “Always so pretty to look at” Your fingers trail on his chest. You place a kiss over his heart, a gentle reminder that it was yours and that yours was his. 

You watched as he removed the rest of his clothes, admiring the vision that he was. Yours, yours, yours. You nudged him to the bath, waiting for him to get in. He didn't think he could do it. It was hot. It was like the ones his mother gave him. It was not like him. He was not soft or warm, he was cool and hardened from years of fighting. But it was like you. It was for you. And for you, he could do anything. He let out a soft hiss as his feet hit the water, the temperature still taking him by shock slightly.

“It's okay, just relax. I've got you” Your words pulled him from his thoughts, looking over at you with a tilt of his head.

 “You’re not getting in cyar’ika?” he sounds disappointed, almost like he wants to beg you to hold him, but you shake your head at him. 

“This isn’t for me din, just want to help you relax okay?” You move to sit on the stool you put behind the bath, grabbing the basket full of oils and shampoos and letting them fill both of your senses. You use a cup to grab some of the water and pour it over his curls, the strands dampening and sticking to the back of his neck. You take the time to press a soft kiss to his head, nose and lips wet with the water. You pop open the bottle of shampoo you had fought to find. Din rarely spoke of his life before the creed, but you knew enough to set out on a search for it. The aroma of the shampoo grew easier to smell when you poured it into your palm, sandalwood and something almost citrusy being massaged into his hair. Your nails rake over his scalp and press into his forehead where you know he gets headaches. A soft groan leaves his lips, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“Is this alright my moon?” you whisper, not wanting to disturb the peace that had settled into the room along the steam of the bath. 

“It’s perfect my sun,” he replies, words uncharacteristically soft for him. A small smile finds its way to your lips as you continue to massage the soap into his hair before rinsing it out, taking care to not get it in his eyes.

 “Scooch up, I'm gonna do your shoulders” You dip your toes into the water, legs resting against his thighs before grabbing the soap and a washcloth. 

“So pretty for me Din,” a kiss on his neck “always so perfect,” another one above his collarbone “don't know what I would do without you.” a third kiss on his shoulder, right above a scar he had gotten over the course of his career. You let the soap run down his back gently, watching the bubbles drip down and hit the water. You rub small circles into his skin with the washcloth, running water over it to rinse off the soap, before moving to his arms. Even before you had seen his arms, you had known that he was strong. Hunting bounties all day, fighting, piloting the crest, had led to his arms and hands being known for violence, for having blood on them. But not to you. To you they were the ones that draped across your body at night, the ones used to hold your son while you were out in the markets, they were warm and strong and perfect. They shielded you and protected you, and while you didn’t think you could do the same for him, you were willing to try. Your fingers trace patterns over the scars and freckles he has, goosebumps forming on his skin.  He is sitting in front of you in the bath, the water so hot at one point, that his skin is a little red. Your hands are in his hair taking time to wash it, to truly wash it. Your nails rake against his scalp as the shampoo lathers, before you rinse it out taking care to not get it in his eyes. You massage the conditioner into the ends of his hair, before leaning down to press kisses onto his shoulder. 

“Thank you for letting me do this for you my moon” you murmur resting your chin on his shoulder. He lets out a soft hum that you can feel as you’re pressed up behind him. “Thank you for doing it, my sun.” you can feel the water growing colder than you would like under the two of you, so you make quick work of rinsing the rest of the conditioner out of his hair, lightly curling a few strands around your finger as you finish. Neither of you wants to make a move to get out, the warmth of each other making the water’s temperature almost obsolete, but a sneeze betrays him getting a giggle from between your lips, and din swears it’s the sweetest sound he will ever hear. He can feel your lips curled into a smile as you let your forehead fall to rest on the back of his shoulder and shake your head. 

“Time to get out I think,” you say, reaching over to grab a towel for yourself before stepping out and pulling it around yourself. Din stands next, taking his towel from your hands and wrapping it around his waist before pulling you into him, a surprised “oof” leaving your mouth as he holds you against his chest. You blink up at him, eyes twinkling at just the sight of him and raise an eyebrow waiting for him to speak. 

“Thank you cyar’ika,” his words tremble slightly as he takes a deep breath “Really, this was amazing.. Thank you.” He presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head before letting one of his hands capture yours, interlocking your fingers together. “Anything for you my love” you whisper back before nodding softly to your shared bedroom “Come now, let’s just rest for the day.”

[fanficsformyfaves]

Cardigan

Loki Laufeyson x Fem Asgardian!Reader

WARNINGS: ANGST, Mentions of Death and Grief, Abandonment Issues, Insecurities

PREFACE: Loki and Reader have always been frenemies of sorts, constantly teasing and getting on each other's nerves, but that all changed when Loki started growing distant.

A/N: Flashbacks in Italics!

Frigga doesn't die and Loki knew he was adopted since he was a child in this A/U!

My big scary baby :,(

I've been with the Royal Family since I was merely a child. My father was one of King Odin's guards, so I'd spent nearly my whole life within the palace's walls, becoming one of Queen Frigga's handmaidens.

Thor and I got along great...it was his brother that was the issue. All I ever heard about the young prince was that he liked to cause trouble. For his family, the people of Asgard and the staff who worked to end, trying to clean up his messes.

I was more than certain it had to do with his Jotunn side, but, I withheld from making such remarks.

To say our friendship was complicated would be the understatement of the millennium. He was always so audacious, especially towards the staff, which did not exclude me.

A vivid memory I had growing up was one where Loki decided it would be a good idea to shapeshift into snake and 'surprise' me, as I was making a visit to Thor's chambers.

"Thor?", I called out into the room,

Peaking my head in.

"Your mother says it's supper time"

Being met with no response, I figured he was already on his way to the dining hall and just as I was turning to leave and head back to my quarters, I see a serpent hastily slithering towards me.

I let out a blood-curdling scream, jumping back against the door and landing inside of Thor's room.

"Help! Someone!", I yell,

"(Y/N)?", I hear Thor's voice,

I turn back and see him, looking down at me with concern laced in his eyes. A flash of green catches my attention and when I face the front of me once more, I was met with Loki struggling to breathe from laughing so hard.

"You should've seen your face!"

"That is not funny!", I scold,

As Thor helped me onto my feet.

"Oh, lighten up, it was a harmless joke"

"Harmless? My heart nearly gave out!"

He scoffs, before exiting the room.

Let's just say that wasn't the first nor the last of his practical jokes, so at some point, I've just grown accustomed to the mischief. You can only be poked at so many times, before you've grown immune to the constant teasing.

But despite everything and him being the snarky son of a bitch that he was...I still found myself falling for him.

I remember the night that it happened.

I was just nineteen, when my father died protecting Odin. It took place on one of his missions, when an ambush broke out and he was pierced through the heart by someone after the king.

I was sitting in my room, stitching up one of Thor's capes, when my best friend walked.

"(Y/N)", the fellow handmaiden called out into my room,

"Yes?"

That's when I noticed the worry in her eye.

"What is it?", I questioned,

Standing up from the bed.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry", her voice gives out,

"You're scaring me", I warned.

It took her a moment to get the words out, but when she did, I felt my stomach drop to my feet.

"It's your father...he's dead"

Nothing felt real in that moment. I was more than convinced that I was just simply having nightmare.

"What?"

"There was an ambush during one of King Odin's expeditions and he took a sword through the heart", she wept.

I shook my head in disbelief.

"No"

"(Y/N)-", she says,

Taking steps towards me.

"No, you're lying"

She attempts to hold me, as I was repeatedly trying to pull away.

"You're lying!"

"(Y/N), please", she sobbed,

"YOU'RE LYING!"

Finally, she was able to pull my defeated frame into her arms, trying her hardest to soothe me.

"You're lying", I cried against her shoulder,

"Papa"

That was all I could do in that moment. Repeatedly call out to him, knowing there would be no answer.

I was so devasted by his loss. I locked myself away for days, not being able to sleep or eat. Whenever someone would try to check in on me, they were simply met with my voice through the door telling them I was fine.

Thor, being my best friend, organized a private funeral to honor his last selfless act.

So, there I stood before his casket, with tears streaming down my face, as I wished it had been me who took that blade instead.

"He was a noble man, (Y/N)", Thor said,

Placing a careful hand on my shoulder.

"This isn't fair", I whispered,

"I know"

"Of all people, why him? He was good. He's only ever been good", I struggled against my tears.

No longer being able to hold my composure, I walk out of the room and collapse onto the floor, gathering the remainder of my strength to sit up against the wall, before burying my face in my knees.

I'd never felt so crushed. Like, the rug had been ripped away from beneath my feet, sending me crashing onto the cold hard ground face first.

A moment of quiet passes, when I hear the door's handle click open.

"Thor, please leave me alone", I pleaded,

"It's not Thor"

I look up and see Loki, standing before me.

"Sorry to disappoint"

I sigh.

"If you're here to pick on me, now isn't exactly the best time", my coarse voice warned,

As I turned away. Just as I thought he would take the hint and leave me be, he joins me on the floor.

"I'm not going to. Not on a day like this", he reassured,

Placing a hand atop mine.

"He truly was a good man"

I nod, still unable to look him in the face.

"Yeah. He really was", I agreed,

Tearing up once more.

"I am aware of the fact that we do not always see eye to eye, but...I'm here to listen. Whether it's you crying or spilling your heart out, I will be there. Believe it or not, I do care about you"

"You don't have to-"

"I do"

I look back at him, confused.

"You and your father have always been so good to my family, even if it meant putting yourselves in harm's way"

"So this is what this is? A pity talk?"

"What? No-"

"If you're doing this because you feel bad for me, then don't"

He sighs to himself, before continuing to speak.

"I am here because you've turned everyone away and try as you might, it won't work on me. I've known you long enough to know that isolating yourself will only make things worse for you in the end"

I was speechless. I'd never seen him so sincere or honest. It was almost chilling.

"I'm not going anywhere", he promised,

Intertwining our fingers. That was the first time I'd felt something other exasperation for the prince. I felt...safe. Like, for the first time in what felt like my entire life, I was finally being seen.

Too tired to argue, I lay my head against his shoulder, whilst closing my eyes.

Since that day, our relationship had mellowed out and we could actually communicate without biting the other's head off. I actually grew to enjoy his company more and more as the days went on, but with the enjoyment, came the worry.

I was falling for him and I knew it.

What worried me wasn't the act of actually falling, more so the certain rejection I would face, if my true feelings were to ever surface past the bounds of my mind.

Despite that, he and I would eventually become the best of friends. Sneaking out past curfew to drink till the sun came up, whilst he talked about the adventures he and Thor would go on.

"It's true!", he defended,

As I let out a loud cackle.

"Oh, you and your brother are something else", I reply,

After catching my breath.

"Well, what can I say? I'm quite fun"

"I'm sure"

I turn to face him and he was already staring at me, with a soft smile. I shoot him a confused look, taking a sip from my cup.

"What?"

"Nothing", he shakes his head.

I couldn't help but blush at his gaze.

Seemingly, out of the blue, Loki had begun distancing himself from me. He would no longer meet me at midnight or even make his usual sarcastic remarks at me.

"Loki, I had a question about this book I found-", I asked,

Walking up to him, when he cuts me off by slightly brushing past me.

"Ask Thor", he replied dismissively.

This would go on for the next following weeks. Him avoiding me and me endlessly wondering why. Yes, I was confused, but more than anything, I was hurt. After everything, he was back to being cold and unkind.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine"

"Loki-"

"I said I'm fine! Could you please leave? I don't have the patience for your vexing today!", he yells.

I hadn't seen him for days after that. All I could do was carry on with my duties and spend the nights crying till I was to exhausted to stay awake. Was it something I had done? Or said? What could have possibly happened to make him hate me? Too many questions left unanswered, till I could no longer bare the agony.

If this was meant to be the end of the line for us, I was going to get that closure. No matter the hurt that awaited me at the other side of it.

I searched up and down the entire palace looking for him, but to no avail. I eventually run into Thor, but he was more nervous than usual.

"Thor, have you seen your brother?"

"No", he said,

Avoiding my gaze whilst trying to walk past me, when I block his way.

"Thor"

"(Y/N), I must go"

"What? I just need-"

"I must", he interrupts,

Finally making contact with my eyes. That's when the realization sunk in.

"Loki", I mutter under my breath.

He sighs, shapeshifting back into his usual form and brushing past me.

Being much taller than me, I chased him down the halls, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

"Loki!", I yelled after him.

But alas, my call was ignored.

"Loki, I can't keep up with you!"

"Then leave"

"Loki!"

He finally stops in his tracks and hesitantly turns back to face me.

"What?"

"You've been avoiding me for weeks", I shrug,

"And?"

"And I deserve to know why"

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"You owe me that-"

"I owe you nothing"

His words cut deeper than he knew. Just as I was about to speak, he turns and walks away.

"I'm not done talking to you!"

"I am"

I could no longer hold back the sadness that turned into rage. I was at my limit and I wanted him to know that.

"You're a coward!"

He pauses for a moment.

"After everything, you're just gonna walk away? That's how you wanna end things?", I yell on the verge of tears.

I knew he could hear it in my voice. The pure disappointment and defeat intertwined with my words.

"Fuck you! Fuck you!", I repeated.

I see him take a deep breath, before continuing to walk.

"At least tell me why! What did I do to make you hate me?"

"I don't-", he says,

About to reach his chambers.

"Then why?!"

"Because I love you!", he finally admits.

In that exact moment, everything went quiet. It was as if the world had stopped spinning on its axis and the rest of humanity disappeared around us.

As I stood there, trying to process what I'd just heard, he began slowly making his way to me.

"That is why I've been so cold. See, despite you being a thorn in my side, I couldn't help myself from falling for you. You are beautiful, brave and smart"

I had no words. Did I hear him correctly or had I finally lost my mind?

"But what I admire most...is your heart", he said,

Gesturing to his own.

"I was a lost cause till you deemed me otherwise. You believed that I was worthy of redemption regardless of everything horrible thing I'd done. Not many did and yet that did not sway you. You found it within yourself to forgive me for all the years I'd mistreated you and I will never be able to repay you for that"

"Loki", I whisper,

"I was and still might be that monster parents tell their children about at night, which leaves me wondering how someone like me end up with a person such as yourself in my corner. I know I do not deserve you, (Y/N), but I can no longer hide my true feelings for you"

It was getting harder and harder to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill. To hear him speak so lowly of himself was utterly painful. He wasn't that monster anymore and I knew that to be true.

"Now...feel free to tell me how repulsed you are and how much you hate me, so that we may resume our regular banter, before I inevitably lose my mind over you again"

"Loki-"

"TELL ME!", he screamed,

Causing me to flinch back in shock.

"I can't do that", I said quietly,

He shakes his head, aggressively wiping a tear away.

"Because I don't hate you. I never have"

I take a few careful steps towards him, as he eyes me down.

"Yes, the things you've said to me in the past have gotten under my skin...but none of that matters anymore"

Gently cupping his face, before finally closing the gap between us. His lips were softer than I could've imagined.

It took a slight beat, but he eventually melted into my touch, as his hands held me by my waist. The kiss wasn't rushed or hasty, in fact, it was delicate and soft, like he was making up for the years he'd missed out on. Eventually, I pulled away, pouring my eyes deeply into his and pressing our foreheads together.

"I love you too", I reassured,

"You didn't give up on me...and I won’t give up on you"

[viasblogs]

Plead - Ellie Williams

picture by strangerdais on pinterest!

- Summary: you and Abby were childhood friends until she betrayed you, holding you back as one of her friends murdered your brother. You and Ellie spend your days tracking her down for sweet revenge.

Send requests!! masterlist !!

“I always wondered why I struggled to be vulnerable. I could never decide between the silence of my mother or the rage of father.”

- Warnings: the story may not follow the storyline, oops Sensitive subjects, death, torture, Abby’s an ass, knife play, guns, murder, revenge, name calling, strong language, tw: owen, intense fights, skull cracking, 1.5k words, not proof read (will be done eventually)

“Oh hey- Abby? Is everything okay?” You pondered. She had stormed into the room, a cruel expression pinned onto her once soft features. Your eyebrows furrowed as you let her drag you by the arm out of the room.

She didn’t make any sound, not even breaths, as she dragged you to a house. It was old, weeds and plants growing out of every crevice. Not one window was fully intact, and inside the walls were painted with blood.

You mouth fell open at the scene in front of you. Your brother was chained to a pipe in the corner of the room, red dripping down his face and nose as it looked at his lips.

“What happened? What’s going on?” You said hurriedly. As you tried to run over to him, Abby pulled you back by your shirt. You clawed to get her hands off you, and when you looked up at her face you could see the rage behind her skin.

A man walked in, blonde with a beard, and a pipe dusted with blood in his scratched hand. Tears welled in your eyes as you tried your best to run forward.

“Abby, what the fuck? Let me go!” You screamed, trying to push her hand away. As the man creeped closer to your unconscious brother you sucked a mouthful of air in.

“No, no, no!” You screamed, the man’s pipe connecting repeatedly with your brothers head, chest and neck. You turned to Abby once again, your eyes glazed with disappointed and fear. Her eyes seemed empty, almost as if she was locked in a trance.

Once your brothers chest had stopped pulsating, Abby still wouldn’t let you free. You were held to watch as the mystery man smugly left the room, his greedy eyes fixated on the blond behind you.

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” You sobbed as you turned around the girl you once called your best friend, “you’re fucking evil, Abby.”

Suddenly, it was two years later. The memory still haunted you daily. You felt it didn’t matter how far you tried to outrun it, your brothers face followed you everywhere.

It was as if he lived behind your eyelids, you saw him every time they closed. You could still feel the same amount of rage you did while living it.

So that being said, during late September, you gathered all of your guns and knives. You collected necessities and put on your coat ready for the freezing winter nights.

The sky was black, freckles of silver blinking down at you. As you stared up at them, you wondered if it were actually possible to touch them. Your legs dragged you through Jackson, house lights all switched off.

“Where are you going?” A familiar voice asked you. You turned around on your heels, looking in the direction of the voice.

“Ellie, go back inside.” you said out loud. You knew if you told her your plan she’d make you stay, but you couldn’t. Your head was longing for nasty revenge. You tried to keep walked, but she ran out and stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, you don’t have to be the villain, you know?” She spoke. You felt she knew what you were up to, and was surprised. She knew about what happened, and she knew Abby killed Joel.

She continued, “but I do. So let’s go.”

She started walking in the direction you were going, but you stood still. If in a different circumstance, you would’ve laughed at her words.

“Ellie, you’re not coming with me.” You sternly mumbled to her, “you have a family, Ellie. A child!”

Ellie stayed quiet, as if assessing all of her options in her head. Eventually she nodded, turning around and walking back into her house. You were upset by the lack of goodbye, but continued forwards anyway.

You stood at the edge of Jackson, overlooking all of the houses from a hill. The sun was rising but still hidden behind mountains. You had to be completely gone by sunrise, so if someone tried to find you they couldn’t.

You set out for Seattle, where you father lived (last time you checked.) He belonged to the Washington Liberal Front, and you a sneaky suspicion that’s where Abby would be.

As you walked you daydreamed about smashing her head against a wall, then thought that probably wasn’t healthy. So, you switched the daydreaming about strangling her instead.

You felt as thought you were walking for days, though it was probably only about 1 pm. You were now in the town over from Jackson, the wooden building creating an eery vibe.

However, you didn’t have time to be afraid, and you used your need for revenge to stroll through. That was until you heard the yells of angry men.

You hid behind an old car, the windows all smashed in. Their guns shit at the metal, and you were suddenly rather nervous. Yet, you knew you couldn’t die now. You had started this, it was your job to finish it.

You pulled your pistol from your jeans, poking up from the hood of the car, shooting one of them between the eyes. Fighting had always been your strength, you weren’t good at being stealthy.

As a guy ran full speed behind you, you grabbed a rusted pipe from the ground and swung. The hit made him stumbled, so you grabbed him by the shirt and swung him into the car, then using your hand to crack his skull.

You panted as you looked around, eyes scanning desperately for anymore people. You spotted a man behind the car opposite yours and pulled out your revolver, holding it ready.

When he popped his head up, you shot. It hit him in the shoulder though didn’t kill him completely. You ran over, shooting him two more times to be sure. When you were sure that was all of them, you started a run.

You entered an old shop, the shelves bare. A man walked in through the door, the bell above him ringing. He was talking to himself, telling you to come out and fight him as you hid behind the counter.

You grabbed your knife, waiting for him to round the corner. You noticed he wasn’t carrying a gun like the other, just an old wooden baseball bat. As his shoe popped into frame you stabbed his ankle, him swinging his bat at you.

You held your cheek as you ran, the man closely behind you on a dodgy ankle. As you ran out of the store, you pulled out your revolver again, turning around to shoot him. You caught him once in the leg and once in the stomach.

That was enough for him to fall, so you kept running. You spotted a horse tied to someone house and whispered an apology had you grabbed the reins and hopped on, leading the horse out of town.

When you were fat enough away, you stopped the horse, trying his leashes to a tree branch. He was cute, a black horse with a white patch behind his ear. You scavenged through your backpack, finding a cloth and wiping away at the blood dripping down your face.

“Well,” you sighed, “that was fun.”

The horses ears perked up, as if he was listening to you.

“We need to get you a name.” You stated to yourself as you climbed back on him. Then you wondered if maybe he already had one. You started guessing names, trying to see if he would answer to any of them.

“Ugh, this is impossible!” You groaned, the horse casually walking along the trail of the woods, “I bet it’s some stupid shit, like screwdriver.”

The horse turned its neck slightly to look at you, and for a second you thought you got it right. When your tried again, he ignored you.

Maybe it’s something similar You thought.

“Nail? No, okay. Let’s try… Bolt! Fuck okay.” You listed a bunch of tools, “Hammer?”

When the horse stopped and turned to completely look at you, you laughed. Who come up with the name hammer?

“Okay then, Hammer it is.” You chuckled as the horse Hammer started his walk again. You slowly ventured further into the forest, the sky above you blocked by a blanket of dying leaves.

You stopped Hammer down by a river, finding a place to set up camp for the night. You decided that was your best option as you didn’t want to tire Hammer out before you could get close to Seattle.

You tied his reins to a tree branch, curious as to if he’d run off if you didn’t. You sat on a log, your head in your hands before you set up the your sleep arrangements.

You didn’t like the idea of being in a tent, so you settled for just a sleeping back. With a “humph!”, Hammer laid down next to you, almost shielding you with his large body.

You stroked his stomach before drifting off into an uncomfortable sleep.

You woke up to the sound of gun shots and clicker, which had became a lullaby for you. You sat up faster than the speed of light and reached for your shotgun, lifting it up.

You looked across the river bank, a herd of clickers twitching their way across the river. A gunshot snapped you into reality and you pointed your gun at the culprit.

“Ellie?”

[blacklesbothatlovestowrite]

On My Mama Pt. 4

Tags: @mixedfandxms @shurislover @sweetalittleselfish-honey @desswright29 @cutttteeee @onyxstones-world @katymae12344 @doramilaj233 @sweetalittleselfish-honey @6-noir @khara876 @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @teadah18 @un-deniable-me3

So I took a bit of a hiatus but I’m back. I started a new story on Wattpad under my username NeomaMona (QueenNeoma) called You & Me. It’s a Jamaican fic with a straight main couple and Lesbian/gay side characters. Remember I write for everyone so no one is left out. Original characters w/ pics. This update is a bit of a roller coaster but I hope you guys enjoy. 🤎

A few weeks went by with you ignoring Shuri and Riri. You didn’t acknowledge their presence, you were either locked in your room when they were home or you were out.

While you felt slightly guilty for ignoring Riri as she didn’t do anything besides befriend an immoral person. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk to her. You hated to admit after the talk where you’d both shared such private and painful memories; you liked her.

You didn’t like anyone. Well, except Shuri before you’d found out what she’d done. However that didn’t count. As you never met her when you were crushing on her. You were just another girl behind a screen, admiring her while she knew nothing of your existence.

Riri’s words constantly played in your head. You scrutinized Bria’s every move and action, but so far she hadn’t done anything. She seemed genuine.

She kept you in a constant state of bliss. She loved making you cum in your room, whilst the duo were home. And while you knew she did it with the motivation of getting under their skin. You were sure at this point you liked fucking her but that was it. Your crush had worn off after the first two weeks.

In the past few weeks, Riri made it harder for you to ignore her. She brought you breakfast and iced coffee, she did your laundry and folded it, she waited up for you each night with dinner despite not receiving any thanks.

Each interaction made the guilt grow stronger. It was obvious she was trying. You’d never had anyone pay you any mind continuously, that felt genuine. She did things without being asked to. If you felt frustrated about something, she was quickly finding a way to help you. It was unspoken. She seemed to pay close attention to you. She noticed the small things.

One of the things that warmed you up to her slightly was when you’d fallen asleep in your room with the door open as you worked on your assignment. She placed your bonnet on your head and removed your makeup. You’d woken slightly when she placed your comforter over you, and whispered goodnight.

You couldn’t ignore how much she seemed to care about you.

-

“Hey.” You looked up from your textbook to see Riri in your doorway. Her hair was freshly braided back in cane rows styled into two space buns. She seemed nervous as she fidgeted with her hands.

“Hi.” You replied, biting your bottom lip. You felt just as nervous as she looked.

“I want to show you something. If you have the time?” She seemed unsure and you could hardly blame her. You’d said nothing to her in weeks despite all she’d done for you.

“Sure.” You nodded, closing your textbook and placing it on your nightstand before standing. You followed her out to the living room, your brows furrowing as she stopped in front of a canvas.

“I’m not sure how you’re going to take this but I remember when I lost my dad how much keeping his memory alive helped me.” Riri cleared her throat as she looked at you. Her eyes sparkled as you raised a brow, confused.

She turned the canvas around and you gasped. She’d painted a picture of your father and you. You were 3 in the portrait, sitting on your father’s shoulder as you cheered. A look of love on both of your faces. You swallowed as you recalled exactly where the picture she’d used had been taken.

Your mother was walking for the House of Woo. She was the first dark skin woman of color to ever grace the big stage. She single-handedly paved the way for dark skin women in the industry before the Woo show, however Woo was a coveted event for any black woman as they kept to lighter complexions only.

You remember being so in awe of her, seeing her walk. The only model who looked like you, not because of features but skin tone. All the other models were European, Latin/Hispanic, Biracial or Lightskin. You remember your father whistling and cheering loud as she sauntered on.

“Thank you.” The words were hard to release. You felt tears prick your eyes as you stared at the portrait. You wondered why she chose that picture of the many of your family online. If she’d known the backstory of the picture. Regardless you were grateful for it nonetheless. It captured your father in one of his happiest moments.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, Y/n.” Riri frowned but you shook your head.

“You didn’t.”

“How about some food? You’ve been studying all day.” Riri suggested.

You nodded.

Riri took you to her favorite diner. There were a few students you knew from your college in the packed diner. As you were seated, Riri broke the silence. Her fingers playing with her gold necklace.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” Riri muttered, her voice low.

“I’m okay. I love it, really.” You said slowly. Hoping you conveyed just how much you enjoyed her gift.

“Why’d you do it ?” You asked.

“Everyone should have something of importance in their home.” She shrugged. “You had no pictures in your room. Yet your IG is full of pictures of you and your dad.”

“I locked away my photo albums.” You admitted. You’d even locked your album in your photo’s with picture of your dad.

“I hope you don’t think I overstepped.” She swallowed, you watched as she swiped her tongue against her bottom lip. You noticed she did that a lot when she was nervous or she was concentrating. 

“I appreciate it. I’ve been trying to pretend like if I don’t see things that remind me of him that I’ll stop being sad. But It hurts more.” Your eyes were watery.

“We aren’t the same. I know that but if you ever want to talk, I’m here. Even if it’s just to listen. Keeping things bottled inside won’t help you. I know that from experience.” She emphasized. She placed her hand over mine on the table.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you.” You changed the subject.

“You’re good.” Riri waved you off. “Shuri was out of line. And I pushed you too much.”

“You didn’t.” Your assured her.

“Thank you for everything you did. I should have said that before now. You didn’t have to do-“

“I wanted to.” She smiled.

“What are you getting?” A girl with a puff and laid edges said as she walked over. She was full of attitude. You looked her up and down, before rolling your eyes.

“What do you want, mama?” Riri asked.

“Whatever you get is fine.” You shrugged. You knew you and Riri liked the same food, after all the takeout she’d gotten you and the meals she’d made for you.

“We’ll have two medium well provolone mushroom burgers, with the thin fries and strawberry milk shakes.” Riri ordered. The girl hissed her teeth before writing it down.

“April, drop the attitude. I’ve never led you on, we were never together so I don’t appreciate your energy.” Riri lowered her voice so only you, her and the waitress heard.

“Good luck with that.” April directed towards me, tilting her head towards Riri.

“Friend of yours?” You smirked.

“No. We messed around but I told her what I tell everyone. I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I’m single. I have no need to lie, cheat or play with people’s emotions. I’m straightforward.” Riri clarified.

“Wasn’t?” You raised a brow.

“No one has captured my attention like you.” Riri admitted, her eyes locked with yours.

“Bold.” You giggled.

“I never lie. I have no reason to. No girl has ever made me like them enough to want to do anything for them beyond sex.” She shrugged and you bit your lip to keep from smiling. As hard as you tried not to like her, she was getting under your skin. While Bria had you hooked sexually, Riri was able to get under your skin with just her actions, her words.

You knew she was being honest because you’d heard stories of how she was never interested in going on dates with other girls. How she ‘loved them and leaved them’ she was solely focused on school and making her money.

“Why’d you get strawberry milkshakes.” Deciding to change the subject again.

“You hate chocolate and you think vanilla is too plain for a milkshake unless there are things added but you love strawberry milkshakes like you love strawberry cake.” Riri noted. “I know you only drunk the shakes I bought you because you were being nice. I saw the cringe on your face when you drank them so I deduced you had to like strawberry since you’d said you loved milkshakes on your snap one day.”

“Uhhhh.” You were shocked she paid such close attention to that.

“How cozy…” You look up to see Bria walking towards you. You could see her friend from the day in the courtyard sitting at a nearby table with her phone in her hand and figured she’d alerted her to where you were and with whom.

“Bria.” You warned. The more you got to know her, the more you realized while she despised both Shuri and Riri; she absolutely hated Riri. You were all for her being rude to Shuri but Riri didn’t deserve it.

“I missed you, babe.” She smiled, leaning down and kissing me. She thrusted her tongue into my mouth and sucked on it, as she moaned out. The kiss wasn’t like her usual ones. You could tell she was angry underneath the sweet demeanor. You pulled away, staring at her in confusion.

“What are you doing her?” You asked.

“I could ask you the same question, babe.” She narrowed her eyes at you.

“Riri and I are hanging out.” You informed her, watching as her eye slightly twitched.

“That’s interesting. I thought you hated her.” She swung her eyes towards Riri, before looking back at you.

“I never said I hated Riri.” I stared at her in shock that she’d so blatantly lie.

“Y/n, you said you hated her. That your skin crawled every time you were around her.” Bria gloated and you scowled. You couldn’t believe she was lying. Sure you’d said that about Shuri but never about Riri. Sure you found her annoying in the beginning but you were starting to like her. “You literally said she needed to go back to Chicago where her pops and Natalie were buried because you couldn’t stand the sight of her.”

“Bria!” You couldn’t believe she’d say something so heinous.

“That’s how it is?” Riri scoffed, her eyes showing how hurt she was. You felt sick at the way her voice cracked and her eyes got glossy.

“Riri I did—“

“Stop lying Y/n. Be honest, tell her how you planned on telling the whole school how she’d gotten her father and friend killed by going to that park.” Bria grinned.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” You shouted, as the whole diner got quiet.

“You told her what I told you…” Riri rasped, as tears fell down her cheeks. You looked at her with empathy. She wasn’t one to cry.

“I promise you I didn’t…” You swear.

“How would she know? I’ve never told anyone besides you and Shuri. And Shuri would never tell anyone that. I know that for a fact!” Riri hissed.

“I may be a bitch. But I’m not heartless I didn’t tell her that. I swear.” You pleaded.

“I thought you weren’t. I told myself you were hurt and angry and lashing out, that you were a good person but who was I kidding. You talk about Shuri being a horrible person but she did what she did with a willing participant that did not let her know she was married or in a relationship. You two are NOT the same.” Riri declared before getting out of the booth and storming off.

You sat in silence as you stared. Watching her leave, feeling like you wanted to throw up. Having people dislike you was one thing but Riri was different. She was sweet, caring, generous.

“Oops.” Bria smirked.

“I never told you about her father or Natalie… And I never said those disgusting things.” You hissed. “Why would you lie?”

She moved close until her lips were by your ear and you tensed. You felt disgusted by her. Having her near you was too much.

“You think you’re all that because you had Riri’s attention? Riri was mine first. You’re nothing compared to me.” She hissed, before standing and flipping her hair in your face.

-

What the fuck?

You hadn’t seen Riri since the night before. She was nowhere to be found. You’d spent the whole day texting, calling and looking for her. She’d missed all her classes. You were frustrated. Shuri was no help as she came in drunk again and passed out on the couch.

You made your way over to Bria’s apartment, and banged on her door. You wanted to know what the fuck she was on. From her words it was clear she wanted Shuri and Riri which made no sense since she’d left them.

And if she was so jealous of you why did she fuck you? She clearly was obsessed with you to be eating your pussy as much as she did.

You had your phone recording from your pocket because you planned to clear your name to Riri. You couldn’t stomach her hating you.

“What?” She snapped as she flung the door open.

“What the fuck was that?” You matched her tone.

“Y/n, aren’t you a genius ?” She mocked.

“Why did you lie to Riri?” You demand.

“The questions should be why did she believe me? Why was she so quick to believe me over you?” She smirked.

“You had details not many people know I don’t blame her for not believing me. But I never told you any of that.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Where did you hear about her Dad and Natalie?”

“Who cares?”

“I do, now tell me you classless hating ass bitch.” You barked, your tone conveying just how much you wanted to play ‘Whack A Bitch’.

“I saw you two when you were talking. I heard her tell you about them.” She rolled her eyes.

“Why do you hate her so much?” You wondered.

“I wanted Riri.” She snapped. “I’ve always wanted Riri. It’s the only reason I became friends with Shuri and fed her the idea of us being a throuple because they were close. Riri never seemed into it and at a certain point she decided to drop me like I was nothing when I told her I loved her and wanted to be with just her.”

“Are you serious right now? I can’t believe this shit!” You wanted to beat her ass so bad.

“Don’t act like you didn’t like me eating your pussy and fucking you while Riri listened.” Bria gloated. “You and I both know you wanted to get a reaction out of her.”

“Riri was right. You are a manipulative bitch.” You scoffed, walking away. She wasn’t worth your energy. You ended the recording and headed towards the only place you hadn’t looked. The lab.

After demanding to be let in, you were disappointed when you saw that Riri wasn’t there. You had no idea where else to look. You sighed before sending the recording to Riri’s number, her snap and her dms hoping she didn’t block you.

As you opened your apartment door you heard moans. You furrowed your brows as you locked the door behind you and headed towards your room, figuring Shuri had a girl over. Neither She or Riri had ever had anyone over so it was off putting but not surprising.

You tossed your keys and bag on the kitchen counter before seeing two people in the couch going at it. You couldn’t believe your eyes at first. But the longer you stared the more real it became.

You froze as you saw Riri fucking Nina on the couch. Your eyes were wide as you took in the scene in front of you. Nina was face down in the couch while Riri drove her strap into her. She was moaning and wailing as Riri pounded into her.

You couldn’t move as you watched in horror. You thought Nina was your friend. How could she fuck with someone she thought you ‘disliked’ and Riri? Of all the people she had to choose your ‘friend’.

“Fuck, you have the best pussy.” Riri groaned as she yanked Nina’s hair. “Look how you’re creaming for me mama.”

You cringed as she called her the nickname she only called you. You felt hurt. Bria turning out to be a fucked up person was one thing, but Riri? How could she go so low without even talking to you and letting you explain yourself or even defend yourself?

“Ay, mami! I love how you’re fucking me!” Nina cried out as Riri thrusted harder. You felt disgusted, angering building in you.

“Cum for me, mama.” Riri demanded, smacking Nina on the ass. And as if on command, Nina came. Her annoying ass voice screeching.

You crossed your arms.

“Are you done?” You asked.

“I mean not really but we probably should take this to my bedroom.” Riri smirked, as she moved away from Nina and stood. You narrowed your eyes as Nina got up and stared at you.

“I hope you don’t mind Riri invited me over? I couldn’t say no…” Nina smiled, and I bit back the urge to yell. I was about to turn to go into the room when Riri grabbed something from off the couch. Your heart dropped when you realized it was the canvas of your father and you.

“You’re disgusting!” You cried, as she walked it over to you with a smirk.

“It was fuck me, Natalie and my dad right?” Riri scoffed. “Well fuck you and your daddy.”

You watched as she took a lighter from off the nightstand and lit the canvas stained with their juices on fire. Your body shook as you watched her burn the canvas.

“Riri! That’s so mean.” Nina laughed.

“Never speak to me again. I will never forgive you for this. You were right. Shuri wasn’t to blame for anything. She was an uninformed willing participant. But you…” You sobbed. “You’re so much worse. Go to fucking hell Williams!”

You grabbed a vase with flowers and dumped the water into the burning canvas before grabbing your keys and bag and heading back out the door.



[mybeautifuldelirium]

Hi, can I request an angst prom "And you left me!" with aegon ii, please, maybe reader is rhaenyra's daughter and she goes to dragonstone but never contacts aegon, so when she comes back to kingslanding she is already engaged to someone and maybe she is expecting a baby👀 (by the way, reader and aegon got along super well, they had a nice friendship and aegon always hoped to marry her) thanks!

And you left me! || Aegon ii x reader

Part 2

A/N: took some liberty w this request but the overall premise is the same :)

Had so much fun writing for Aegon so I hope you enjoy 💚 and lmk if you’d like to be in my Aegon ii x reader tag list xx

Warnings: ANGST!, targ incest, Aegon being Aegon, some fluff

Y/N Velaryon never thought that her feet would once again grace the shores of the Crownlands, her homeland. It had been so long, many moons had passed, many years. Though how many in number, she couldn’t say, long ago she had lost track. Yet there she stood, by the gates of the very place that held all those memories she had fought to forget.

“Is everything alright, my dear?” Rhaenyra placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder “You look pale; mayhaps the travel didn’t fare you well?”

“No, mother, no need to worry, I’m fine” the princess put her hand on top of hers “It’s just…this place…”

“Y/N, don’t” Rhaenyra cut the girl off, cupping her cheek “You’re no longer a child, you’re a woman betrothed, remember that”

-

Y/N had forgotten how insanely huge the keep was, the countless corridors weaving into one another forming into a maze. The princess was trying to locate her childhood bedchambers when shouts of fury stopped her in her tracks. Curiosity took over her body and she gingerly slid by the agape doors.

Oh how she wished she hadn’t done that, alas too late it was. Her eyes fell on the very face she had desperately tried to erase from her mind, the face of her once dearest friend, Aegon Targaryen. Y/N sucked in a gasp, clutching her hand by her chest.

He stood there, in the flesh, so close before her yet he hadn’t noticed her presence. The prince sat naked, covered by a single sheet on his bed, his silver locks, a mess falling down his face, deep violet eyes bloodshot red with tears as he desperately looked at his mother who was screaming and cursing at him.

Y/N’s heart clenched at the sight of his state, a small part, deep inside of her, wanted to rush towards his embrace and wipe away his tears much like she used to when they were children, but she was no longer a child.

The princess was so deeply indulged in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed her weight shifting onto the heavy door, making a small screeching sound. Aegon’s face suddenly shot towards the doors, his teary violet eyes widening as if he’d seen a ghost. Y/N could see the pure shock and confusion written on his features as if he was trying to convince himself ‘twas not a dream but before he could say anything, before Alicent could turn her head, the princess ran away, cursing at herself, trying to hold in the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes.

-

The king had ordered for a supper in honor of the family being together at once. Y/N dreaded that night, she couldn’t bear to see Aegon’s face again. The princess thought she had long ago ripped out the memories from her heart, the fond memories they shared as children and yet since that day, his broken, teary face had kept plaguing her thoughts and dreams. But who was Y/N to refuse the wishes of her grandsire, her king.

Despite the cheerful music, the tension in the dining hall was suffocating, all these familiar faces gathered around the lavish table felt so distant and estranged.

“You all made me so happy, honoring my request and gathering here as a family” the king smiled lightly, examining the room “Aegon? Where is Aegon?”

Y/N felt her heartbeat fastening at the mention of his name as she had foolishly hoped he wouldn’t show up.

“He’s on his way, I’m sure, my dear” Alicent faked a smile, quickly glancing at the doors, hoping to see her son.

“Forgive my delay, father, mother” Aegon slurred, entering the hall. He was in a much more presentable state than when the princess last saw him yet his eyes still held that sadness.

Y/N nervously bit her lip, praying he wouldn’t pick the empty seat beside her which of course, he did.

“Ah, if that’s not my beloved niece, It’s been so long; I’ve missed you too, you know” he smirked at her, lifting the wine cup to his lips “Next time you peer at me through my bedchambers’ doors, just come in, I would gladly have your company”

The princess choked on her food, shock washing over her features. She could feel the rage building up in her younger brothers while her mother shot her an outraged look.

“Perhaps, dear uncle, you’d be just as gracious to congratulate my beloved sister on her betrothal” Jace glared at him.

These words struck at Aegon’s heart like an arrow, making him slam his cup down in disbelief, his demeanor suddenly dropping. But why? Was it sadness, anger or could it have even been jealousy?

But before Y/N was able to realize what was going on, the prince had already pulled back his composure or more so cockiness.

“Is that so, dear niece? Quite unfortunate, truly” he scoffed, bringing the goblet back to his lips “Well, if you ever wonder how it feels to be truly satisfied, you already know where my bedchambers are”

“Aegon!” Y/N slapped his shoulder in disbelief, much like she used to back in the days when he would make inappropriate remarks about the maids.

“Ouch! ‘Twas a mere jest, dear niece” the prince grinned “Unless-”

“I see you haven’t changed one bit, Aegon” Y/N scrunched her nose “Just as insufferable”

“Perhaps, my princess. But I see you’ve changed, you’ve changed in a lot of ways” he smirked, eyeing her figure. But before Y/N was able to chastise him, his eyes grew dark and heavy with sadness as he quietly mumbled under his breath “Alas for that promise of yours”

‘What promise was he talking about’ the princess thought to herself, she reached her hand towards Aegon, prompting him for further explanation but was interrupted by Aemond who had gotten up, wishing for a toast for her “strong” brothers.

“And let’s not forget, to our beloved niece’s betrothal and how “strong” she is, to forget of my dear brother” he smirked slyly.

‘Twas when hell broke loose, her younger brothers charging towards Aemond, initiating a petty fight. Y/N instantly stood up, heading towards them as someone pulled her by her arm.

“Go back to your chambers” Rhaenyra gave her a stern look “Daemon and I will take care of this”

“B-but mother I-”

“You heard me Y/N! It’s for your own good”

The princess threw one last glance at the ordeal yet what or rather who caught her eyes was Aegon who just kept drowning himself in wine seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.

-

Y/N was back in her childhood bedchambers, her only safe place, everything looked the exact same, apart from the new silk cushions that were nicely laid on the spacious bed. It was as if she had never left, as if all those years hadn’t passed before her eyes.

The young maiden was about to lay and drift into a sweet slumber when the doors creaked open, a tall figure slowly heading towards her.

Y/N was on the verge of a scream when the flickering light of the candles outlined that unmistakable silver head.

“A-Aegon?!” She squinted her eyes “What in the seven hells are you doing here?!”

“Oh, I thought this was my bedchamber, is it not?” He barely slurred his words, plopping himself on the bed beside her “Or perhaps this time you decided to come in, instead of peering through my doorframe”

The strong stench of wine filled Y/N’s lungs which further proved that even dead drunk Aegon was just as insufferable.

“You must go, this is highly inappropriate” she gasped, covering her thinly clothed body and shifting further from him “What if someone comes in and sees you?!”

“Hmm, yeah, you’ve changed” he mumbled ���That never used to bother you”

“Yes, Aegon! Things have changed” she persisted, pushing him to sit up “You’re married for gods’ sake and I am betrothed!”

“Ah yes, that thing” he let out a sarcastic laugh “And who is he? The bastard that managed to sweep the indomitable Y/N off her feet”

“Lord Cregan Stark if it so concerns you, uncle” the princess tried to maintain the confidence in her voice “I trust he shall be an honorable and loyal husband”

“Pfft honor” Aegon scoffed “All this cunt could do is bore you to death”

“Don’t you dare speak of him as such” she glared at him “He is to be my husband”

These words as if sobered the drunk prince who now sat directly before her.

“I was supposed to be your husband” he suddenly screamed, his handsome face overwhelmed with emotions “You were supposed to belong to me, not to some pathetic northern bastard”

“A-Aegon w-what are you-” Y/N’s eyes widened in shock at his confession.

“You promised, you promised” he cried, no longer trying to contain his emotions “On my 13th nameday you promised to be mine! But you lied, you lied and you left me!”

Y/N’s heart sank to her feet, of course she remembered that day, no matter how hard she had tried she could never forget it. It was the day she had excitedly woken up Aegon, her closest friend, at dawn, leading him to the great weirwood tree where she had giddily kissed his cheek and made this very promise. The promise to wed him and only him. Alas for her mother seeing them from afar, taking her away to Dragonstone, making her swear to never speak of him again, to forget him.

“Oh, Aegon, you know it was not my decision to make, we were but children” the princess reached her hand towards his face only for him to push it away.

“Aemond was right. You forgot about me! You never cared for me! It was all a lie!” He spat , tears rolling down his face “I should’ve known, nobody can ever love me, not even my own mother, let alone you. You who always run after your forsworn mother and bastard brothers”

These cruel words made Y/N swiftly raise her hand, but then she saw the pain in his beautiful violet gaze. He was broken, eyes blood red and swollen, clear tears, staining his ivory cheeks and yet she could still clearly see the face of that young boy who was always belittled and pushed aside, that young boy who she had long ago fallen for. Aegon flinched, preparing himself for the hit of her palm. But, it never came, instead he felt her warm embrace as she pulled his head towards her chest, gripping strongly at his head of silver curls as if scared he’d disappear any moment.

“I’m sorry, oh, Aegon I’m so sorry” she whispered through tears “I tried, I truly tried to pull you out of my heart, but I couldn’t, I could never, I would never”

The prince let out one last cry as he tightened his arms around her, nuzzling his face in her neck.

Those few minutes in each other’s arms felt like a blissful eternity as they fell back now laying tangled on the soft mattress just like they used to as children, much to their mothers’ disapproval.

“Do you love him?” Aegon hesitantly broke the silence, sitting up to look at her eyes “That Cregan Stark, your betrothed”

“I’ve never met him, even. How could I possibly love him?” She chuckled, palming his face, brushing few tears away

“Don’t marry him” Aegon pleaded, leaning into her touch “Stay here, stay here with me. Marry me, like you promised”

“We both know that’s not possible, my prince” Y/N lightly shook her head as tears were once again filling her eyes.

-

“You are to be king Aegon! You shall fulfill your father’s last wish” Alicent pulled at her son’s arm “It is your duty”

“He had 20 years to name me heir and never did, because he never loved me.” He sobbed “I have no wish to rule!”

“And yet, with his final breath, he whispered to me that you should take his place on the throne.” The queen insisted, tightening her grip.

“Only on one condition shall I obey” Aegon narrowed his gaze “I am to take Y/N Velaryon as my second wife like Aegon the Conqueror did. She is to be my queen”

[take-everything-you-can]

Mother's Day First's

A/N : So I know this is going to be posted a day late but I work nights. This idea came to me like.. How would Eddie deal with that first Mother's Day without his own mom? What about the first one he shares with his wife ? What about all those that come in-between? but honestly I could write this is so many different ways and I love that about Eddie Munson, just an inspiration Gremlin. I Wrote it this way from a bit of my personal life so I hope that this is something that you guys enjoy.

18+ MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader

WC: 4.8K

TW: A Bit of angst ( mentions death of a parent, car accident, love lost, grief, a sad Wayne, A very Sad Eddie) Some fluff ( Memory lane, moments of pining, cute dad Eddie, flirty, baby girl Munson) And the slightest smut ( Breeding kink)

Also a very special thank you to the person who started my love for writing Eddie fics in the first place and for beta reading this piece @blueywrites and a shoutout to @lesservillain for letting me fill her inbox with all my little ideas!!!! Last but not least thank you @newlips for being the amazing person she is and designing these amazing dividers :)

 A frantic phone call from Chief Hopper had made Wayne bolt from the trailer park to the police station. In under thirty minutes, he would become a parent, unprepared and the farthest from okay. The rain on an early December night had created a sheet of Black ice within a bend towards the outskirts of the small town. One unseen as screeching tires hit, causing an overcorrection and a flip of the small vehicle. There were no airbags in the car as Al had gotten the car from a used lot a few months before getting locked up again. Eddie watched as his mother took her last breath, a miracle he had only sprained a wrist. He had fallen asleep as his mother was driving them home, being unbraced for impact had saved his life.

 When Wayne walked in he found a small raven-haired, rain-drenched, tear-stricken, round-faced Eddie silent and sitting straight in the chair next to Hopper's desk. It was only then that Wayne let himself cry, Looking at Eddie yet hearing the most heart-wrenching news from Hopper he let the tears flow as he waved to cut the conversation short. He took Eddie in his arms, a stronghold, and the emotion Eddie thought was gone for only a second came flooding back running a river down the back of Wayne's worn flannel, a grip that Wayne held onto for days to come. 

December was rigid as the trees began to shed their leaves, making way for the blooms of spring in the coming months. Birds had started to make their way south a few weeks prior when the heat started to drop and the Hawkins air started to become stale. Now Snow started to stick to the ground, the crunch a telltale sign to Wayne that soon everything in sight would be coated. He was just happy to have an extra heater for Eddie as they made their way to the porch and up the steps and into the small living room of the trailer Eddie had started to call home.

A drop of his backpack on the floor was the only thing Wayne could hear through the closed door of the room he had emptied so Eddie could have his own space. His nephew had spent weekends or spontaneous nights when things got a bit rough at home with him but the permanent move was starting to harsh his confidence in whether he could do this or not. How do you raise a child when you’ve never been in the company of one for longer than three days? Angela had entrusted Wayne long ago he would be a good father; he just figured it would be from his own seed or at least when he could prepare, but death doesn’t care if you’re prepared or not. Death comes for all races and genders, whether you choose to love freely or not it has no care if you're ready for it or not. No Death will make that decision for you. Death chose to take Eddie's mother and leave Wayne To fend the demons off for Eddie with no armor and no sword, at least until Eddie could fend them off himself.  

The weather, in May of 1976, had been damn near perfect in Wayne Munson's opinion. He could go fishing without having to come in from the heat beating him down most of the morning. Something he decided to do the second Sunday to keep Eddie’s mind off of his first year without Angie. Eddie begrudgingly agreed knowing it was more for Wayne than it was for him. Every year Eddie watched as Wayne would bring Angela flowers and a small cake from her favorite restaurant across town. Every single Mother's Day. He had done those things before Eddie could remember them but this year was the first that Wayne also didn’t have her and even though she had been Eddie's mom, to him it felt like Wayne needed this more than he did. Like someone who loved his mother far longer than he had a chance to. Wayne Munson was truly a father figure way beyond before he was forced to be one. It would take a few years to admit it to Eddie but he had pined for his mother since their school days, being the shy man he was, he never could muster up the courage to ask her out, at least not before Al had anyway. It was something that ate him up inside until the day she left this world. Eddie always knew. In some ways, he had almost hoped they would just get it over with already and spill their feelings to each other. Eddie hated that he felt that way about someone who wasn’t his actual father. Aren’t kids supposed to always want their parents to always stick together? To love each other through it all? He felt like his father didn’t deserve the love that Wayne and Angela had given him but it was true. He deserved love but not theirs, it was too pure for him, too unselfish and undeniable for anyone close. Something he would know nothing about. 

Wayne had packed a small cooler and relined his favorite fishing poles all in the early morning hours as he let Eddie sleep in. Not too long, just long enough that the sun had started to peak its way over the large tree that sat behind the trailer and started to peak its rays through the window in the kitchen. 

“Alright boy up and at’em, the fish ain’t gonna catch themselves.” Eddie groaned as Wayne ripped the old quilt back rushing to shield his eyes as the room became too bright, too fast. Yet he got up as he was told and threw on some clothes from a pile that Wayne had set in his room after doing laundry the night before. 

Sitting at the edge of Lovers Lake Eddie throws a cast out as far as he can and watches as Wayne gets situated a few feet away from him. 

“ You remember when you were like six years old and me and your dad brought you out here and threw you off the dock to teach you how to swim?” The memory shocks Eddie for a second as he wanders through the lane in his memory trying to recall the days that he spent few and far in between with his father doing something other than stealing cars and keeping watch. He chuckles to himself as he recalls the day Wayne is referring to. 

“ The day I almost drowned? Yeah, I remember that.” Wayne smiles to himself.

“ I would have not let you drown boy and ya know it. I remember it as your dad threw you off that dock and you turned into a damn fish. Like you were just meant to be in the water, it took us hours to convince you to come out.” Eddie sits and watches as the fish continues to ignore his line as Wayne clears his throat “ I remember that when we got home you went running to tell your mama that you had met a mermaid in that lake. She asked you if the mermaid had a name since everyone has got a name right? You remember what her name was?” Eddie shook his head as he began inspecting the ground as it grew blurry with each passing second. “ I think you said her name was Marie, your mama said that was the prettiest sounding name she’d ever heard come from an underwater lady.” He lets out a defeated sigh as he takes in Eddie's features. Tears fell silently off his cheeks wetting the shirt he was wearing. He missed his mom and he knew nothing could bring her back no matter how hard he prayed. The longer that prayer went unanswered the less he spent time asking for it. A grief that would never go away. 

“ I miss her too.” The deep sound coming from Wayne startled Eddie out of his thoughts as he looked up to find that Wayne too had tears threatening to spill over his lashes. 

A silence took over, comfortable and familiar. A feeling that Wayne and Eddie had grown accustomed to over the few months they had spent together. The sun began to set and Wayne had caught a few fish. Eddie on the other hand, every time he had caught one he felt too bad to keep it and said they had a life to live so he had to set them free. Wayne didn’t mind, he just saw another reason to love Eddie. A strength that Eddie would grow to thrive on, is kindness, a trait that came solely from his mother. 

 Heading back to the trailer park or so Eddie thought until Wayne took a right turn instead of a left. He sat waiting to see if Wayne would catch the mistake he made but the longer he sat the more he realized Wayne had made no mistake. Wayne was heading across town to a small little cafe called “Tully's”, A small hole-in-the-wall place that served one of the richest red velvet cakes you could ever get your hands on. 

“Wayne, what are we doing?”  Eddie only asks when he sees that old path Wayne had started to head down.  A path they made a few months prior following that shiny black hearse. 

“We are going to give your mother her flowers and cake? What do you think just cause she can’t be here with us we're just gonna stop tradition?” Eddie doesn't know what to say. He shakes his head to Wayne as the truck comes to a stop just outside the cemetery fence.” You want to come to tell your mama hi or do you want to stay in the truck?”  The tears seem to answer for him they haven't fallen but Wayne understands. “ It’s okay, I'm just gonna sit with her for a few minutes and update her on life and I'll be right back. okay? '' Wayne takes the flowers and cake to the third grave within the second row and sits them both in front of an engraved headstone. Eddie watches as he’s careful to sit at the edge of where her coffin lays, legs crossed and a cigarette sitting between his fingers. Talking to his mother like she is answering all his questions. Why can't he get out of the truck? Why does he feel like his body is stuck? Before he could wonder anything else Wayne had opened the truck door and slid into his seat with a single swipe under his eye, he started the truck and they headed home.

Eddie Still can’t believe that the first Mother's Day without his mother has passed. 

The first bloom of tulips and mums had started to spring up in Forest Hills as the temperature began to rise. April had brought so much rain it was a surprise that in May of 1981, the plants were still standing. Eddie is dreading the day as the sun starts to crawl across his floor and climb onto the bed sheets. Wayne had brought home a Tully's cake and sat it on the counter along with some long-stem roses he had bought Angela's favorite. Fishing was a no-go this year as the forecast called for rain most of the day but as Eddie walked outside to sit on the porch for a smoke, he found Wayne finishing off one himself, there wasn’t a cloud in sight, just a gentle breeze.  

“Good morning sunshine,” Wayne muttered as He took in the sight of Eddie. Wild curls and deep purple bags under his eyes. A small smile on his lips as he heard the birds speak to one another.

“Is it a good morning?” He mumbled as he patted his sweats down for a lighter, finding it in the left pocket. Wayne let out a hearty laugh.

“Your mom wasn’t a morning person either, always saying that if the owls are up at night she should be too. A weird one your mother was,” A fond tone that made Eddie's heart squeeze. 

“She liked owls?” Wayne’s eyes grew wide as he nodded his head.

“Oh she loved them, even had a small one tattooed on her shoulder when we were about your age, said they were always the most beautiful creatures she’d ever laid eyes on till she met you.” With the sentiment, Eddie snuffs out the remaining embers on the lit cigarette between his fingers and tells Wayne to wait there on the porch for a second. Stumbling through the small hallway to the bedroom he opens his closet and pulls out a bouquet of lilies one he had picked up on his way home from band practice. Rushing back to where Wayne sat he presented the flowers to Wayne. 

“Oh those are beautiful, your moms gonna love those. You did good boy.” Eddie’s cheek burned pink under the gaze of his uncle. 

“Um, no Uncle Wayne I got them for you.” 

“You got them for me? Why would you get me flowers?”  Eddie thought about it for a few seconds taking a seat next to Wayne hoping he would be able to get out what he was trying to say before embarrassment choked him up. 

“Well see here is the thing, In the sixteen years that I’ve been on this earth I’ve come to realize that you don’t have to be here.” 

“What are you talking about Eddie?”  he lets out a sigh running his hands through his hair doing nothing to tame the wild frizz.

“All I'm saying is thank you for being here. For taking me in, you didn’t have to, you wanted to. Just thank you for being my dad and my mom these past few years.”  Wayne sat silent for a few minutes until he could keep his own emotions in tow. 

“Now don’t give me all the credit, your mama is looking out from above, but thank you for being a good kid, yeah you have some issues but at sixteen you will make mistakes but you are a good kid Eddie no matter what your dad or anyone else thinks. So no son thank you.”  Eddie scratches the back of his neck trying to relieve the sheer embarrassment of compliments given by his uncle. “Hey, have I ever shown you what your mom looked like at your age?” Eddie shakes his head as he follows his uncle into the trailer and waits for him on the couch as he brings over the biggest photo album Eddie has ever seen. Wayne begins to flip through the pages until he comes across an old Polaroid of three kids standing against a set of lockers in the hallway of Hawkins High School. Scribbled in cursive at the bottom it says Al, Wayne, and I Ditching Science.  Smiling as he watches Eddie take the photo. “You have her eyes and her smile ya know?” Eddie smiles to himself and flips to the next page its got a few of a party being held, Eddie’s baby shower to be exact and he stops at a picture of His mother smiling from ear to ear with a forkful of cake as Wayne has a hand on her stomach, eyes wide and on the bottom in the same cursive it reads, Eddie kicking wayne for the first time.  This earns a small laugh from Eddie as he continues to flip through the yellowing pages and stops again once he comes to a picture that was taken about a week before his mother passed away. It had Eddie sitting next to his mother and she had headphones wrapped around his ears as she held up a peace sign on the bottom. It says Eddie is learning what real music is and notes that the song she was making him listen to was The Best Of My Love by The Eagles. Tears begin to burn as they refuse to fall. She had always told Eddie to listen to the lyrics to songs, something he did more and more the older he got. A small pat on the back from Wayne looked on to the photo on the page telling Eddie it was one of her favorite songs and how she would play it on repeat Eddie laughed remembering all the times she would blast music through the house and he never once asked her to turn it down, not when she would dance with him in the kitchen and sing into spoons. Memories he cherished always. Wayne left to take the gifts to Angela's grave leaving Eddie at the trailer, even though it had been a few years he was still somehow not able to make the trip to see his mother.

It was starting to feel like spring was hauling ass into summertime. A long April made the butterflies and bumblebees hum to life as the new green buds began to bloom in the early days of May 1989. After marrying the girl of his dreams Eddie found out shortly after that he was going to become a father. And the last six months of his life had been nothing if not chaotic in the best ways. Waking up at three am had become something he looked forward to letting you get in a little bit more sleep where you could. Eddie was the kind of father to his daughter you dreamed about, attentive and caring of all the things that drew you to him in the first place. As Eddie heated a bottle to feed the little one crying out in hunger a spitting image of you he swore, but if you looked at her long enough you’d see she was all Eddie. Big brown eyes wide and curious, small cupids bow in her top lip, and a nose you just wanted to reach out and press. She even had a small birthmark on her left shoulder blade, one to match Eddie's except he was on his right side. 

Eddie reached over the bassinet wall as he lifted her into his arms wiping away the crocodile tears she had shed in wait for her bottle. He hummed to her as he offered it to her, a willing nudge to her bottom loop had her latching in an instant. A smile on his face anytime she accepted his help. That's all he ever wanted was for someone to look at him the way that his girls looked at him, with love and adoration. To feel wanted and needed not like he was just something to just toss to the side once you become bored. You had been the only person to make him feel truly wanted other than Wayne and he was now looking down at the labor of love created from that. His daughter had pushed the bottle out of her lips and he looked to see the amount taken but unhappy with the outcome he urged her to drink a bit more.

“Come on angel you need just a little more alright? Just a little, not a whole lot.” He hadn’t noticed that you had come to stand in the doorway watching him sway back and forth slowly as he tried to get your daughter to eat. Angela Marie was the name he had asked to call her as soon as he saw her and who were you to tell him no? A perfect name for his perfect angel he said the night you labored for hours that seemed to never end. But the moment she made her debut in this plane of existence your heart instantly knew this was his Angela Marie. 

You walk over to your husband sliding a hand across the small of his back as he hums in satisfaction. 

“Why are you up right now?" He turned to you yet his eyes never left his daughter's face.

“My space heater went to feed our child and it got kind of cold in there alone.” He chuckled a low laugh as he burped Angie on his shoulder. 

“Oh, but any other time I'm too warm for you.” 

“I said you were too warm like one time, are you ever gonna get over it? “ He shook his head as he laid Angie back into her bassinet slowly but surely drifting back to sleep as he rocked it slightly. A smirk on his face as he turned to you walking out of her room and into your own. 

“ What?” Knowing that smirk could be the death of you as your hormones were still all over the place and alone time was non-existent for the last six months. You had just started to get some of it back since Angie had started to sleep through the nights more often. 

“Close your eyes.” You sat in your shared bed and did as he had asked listening to him shuffle through a few drawers having lost whatever he was looking for. 

“You need some help?” you laugh.

“ No, just be a good girl and keep those eyes closed for me alright?” Your stomach did a somersault hearing the words but you kept your eyes closed until he asked you to hold out your hand.

 “Okay, you can open them now.” A small box sat in your hand as he got into his side of the bed, smiling up at you.

 “Go ahead and open it.” 

You take and flip the lid and there in the ring are three stones one is Citrine on the other side there is a Ruby and between both sits a beautiful Opal. A Birthstone for you, one for Eddie, and one for your angel.

”Happy Mother's Day baby.” You lean over and kiss Eddie as if he is a man going to war. You leave him breathless as you take the ring out of the box and place it on the ring finger of your right hand letting it mirror your wedding set. Eddie places a hand upon your cheek and you lean into it finding comfort in the warmth of his skin. He kisses you with a desperate need to show you just how much he loves you but you already know that he shows you in little ways every day. He will find you no matter how long he’s been gone if he leaves the house the second he’s back in it he kisses you the same as when he goes to leave a promise of I’ll be right back. He leaves you little notes on the mirror in the mornings, so when you take a shower the steam reveals his I love yous. Any gas station he goes into he will come back out with a kit-kat just because he knows the way you like the taste of the chocolate once it melts a little after holding it. He shows you in the way he feeds your daughter just to give you those precious extra minutes of sleep. He shows you all of these things and you show him now in this moment that you appreciate them all. He treated you as if you were the mother of his children long before you were one. Something you learned that Wayne has taught him. Your girl is your everything, if you treat her with love and respect she will give it to you tenfold.

 The love you had for Eddie, you needed him to feel that too. Slow thrusts and small whimpers that escape your mouth tell him all he needs to know. Groans in your ear from him trying to keep his love from spilling over send shivers down your spine tightening the hold around him. “God you're just so good to me huh? Letting me fill you and pump you full of me. You want another little one, don't you baby?” The words send you into orbit as you gush around him, pulling him deeper and deeper in your hold as you tighten his stills only to thrust sharply a few more times punctuating each thrust with his words. “Let. Me. Give. You. Another. One.” and with that last thrust he paints your walls thick, something he hadn’t done in three months. Yes, you had gotten him off but for the first time in three months, he was right back inside you and your walls were home to him. Kept his darkest and dirtiest secrets confined, the secret of want and warmth he had spent years searching for. A prayer he thought God answered only for abandoning his other. 

Sleep found you both quickly wrapped in each other until the clock began to wail beside Eddie. A slap to the snooze button and you were already stirring but he tightened his hold on you feeling that small warm nuzzle that lasted for a few moments before the heat became too much and he would let you pull away.

Walking with Eddie towards the truck in the parking lot meeting Wayne for lunch at a small cafe across town. The red sundress you were wearing complemented the small black sabbath onesie Eddie had dressed angela marie in. A squeeze of your hand that was in eddies let you know he loved you, a signal he used when there were too many people around or didn't want to say it aloud. You would always reply with two back an answer of I love you too. You take Angela in your arms as he goes to hug Wayne and you pass her back so you can do the same. A Small Happy Mother's Day from Wayne has you reeling out thank yous, not only for you but to thank him for raising someone as amazing as Eddie. A phenomenal husband and father. Only then does Wayne take Angela Marie Fully into his hold cooing to her in his gruff baby voice of how she is the most beautiful little angel to grace this planet. A quick lunch and a cup of coffee end with Wayne picking up a Red Velvet Cake and a second box he holds until he reaches the truck with you all in tow. As he opens the door he slides the cake onto the passenger's side and hands one of the boxes to Eddie along with a second set of flowers he had picked up from the store, Lilies were your favorite something Wayne smiled at when Eddie told him remembering a time when Eddie had given him his own set of lilies. The box held a yellow cake with buttercream frosting, a favorite of yours since Eddie first brought you to Tully’s on one of your first dates. He had preferred red velvet until that day. Eddie turned to Wayne but what he said surprised him more than anything.

 “I’m gonna come with you to see Mom. I think I want Angel to meet her gammie.”  

A silent trip to the cemetery as your car followed Wayne's truck through the dirt path that led to the fence he once couldn't bear to see. Walking over carefully he sat at the edge where his mother lay with you beside him and Angie in his lap. You had your hand in his as you squeezed once and he returns it with two. He takes a deep breath as he lets Wayne set the cake and flowers next to the stone engraved with her name and a message of Be the best You. A phrase that almost takes his breath as he can hear the words ring true in his ears, a quote his mother had told him every day. “All you can do is be the best, you Eddie.” A small hand grips his finger as if giving him the signal you had made for each other out of instinct. 

“Angel Marie this here is your Grandmother Angela Evelyn Munson and she was the love of your papa's life.” A tremble in his tone was more cathartic than sad. He had only been here a few times since that day with Wayne. The first time was when he was drunk after graduation and he just wanted to let out some anger and maybe get some answers but he never got them, the next time was to tell his mom he met someone new, someone, who gave him this strange feeling like any time she looked at him his stomach would fall. Kind of like he was on one of the rides that would come through town when they held a small county fair, and the third was the day he found out you were pregnant, he just wanted to know if his mom would have been proud of the man he had become and Wayne assured him she would, but it wasn't the same and he knew that. 

This led to today the first time Angela Marie would meet Angela Evelyn and he could have sworn she was right in front of him, he couldn't see her but if he could just reach out and touch her that would be enough he couldn't, no because when he looked down and that tiny hand that had wrapped itself around his finger he knew he was wrapped around hers too.

[my-on-and-off-writingstuff]

To Keep the Memory alive | Daemon x Reader

Request: Oh my God! "gone" devastated me, but it was an amazing read, that being said I can ask for a part 2 with the baby and as she grows older and becomes more curious about her mother (maybe she found something that belonged to her, a book, a gem or something) and asks Daemon to tell her about reader, just Dad! Daemon with his little girl being extremely nice and cute please? (with some angst, but very very very fluff)

Summary: This is part two to "Gone" Daemon's daughter wants to know more about her mother, but Daemon is still very much grieving even after 10 years.

Authors note: I loved this idea and I hope I did it justice! Sorry for the long wait.

“Dad?” Daemon hums as he looks up from the scrolls he was reading. His 10-year-old daughter looks at him expectingly from across the room her hands behind her back as if she is hiding something. “Yes, darling?” she hesitates for a moment before coming closer to the desk. “I went to her room to..” without noticing that he scares his daughter Daemon stands up from his chair, a frown is noticeable on his forehead and his eyes are shooting fire. “You what?” He asks angrily. They had a rule, the most important rule of all, which was that she nor anyone else was allowed in the old master bedroom.

Everything was still placed the exact same way as that dreadful day more than 10 years ago. While your oils and fragrance had disappeared from the room, all your stuff was still there. He physically and mentally could not handle anybody stepping through that door as it was all he had left of you. “We agreed that you and nobody else in this castle would ever step a foot into that room.” She nods while tears are gathering in her eyes. “I know but..” “But what? You just go ignoring every rule I made for you, the gods know that you could do with a few more.” In a fit of anger not directed at your daughter but the fact you were taken from him he swipes off the scrolls on the desk.

“I went in there, because you never talk about mum, you go all moody and quiet at the mention of her name, you have scared the maid and servants in not talking about it either. I went into that room to feel connected to her, my own mum to see her stuff, smell her perfumes, look at her jewelry.” Visenya is now screaming almost matching her father’s loudness, tears are flowing down her face. From behind her back, she throws the baby blanket on his desk. “She made this did she not?”

Stunned to silence all he could do was look at the blanket. The blanket you had painstakingly worked on. When he had found it that night in Visenya’s room he did not let go of it. Instead of gifting the blanket to her like you had intended he had hoarded it for himself. Locking it up in your room, preserving it and cherishing it when he was in there. “Dad!” Visenya screams at him looking for an answer. The only thing he could do was nod. “Why are you keeping her away from me?” Is the only thing she asks before turning around and walking out of his study, not waiting for an answer.

He grabbed the blanket and hugs it to his chest. He knew that his daughter was right, he should have kept your memory alive by telling her stories about you. But every time he wanted to, he would choke up, nothing other than nonsense would come out of his mouth. While many men would have already gotten over the pain of losing their wives even after 10 years it still felt so fresh. To top that Visenya’s eyes reminded him every day of yours. He had to make it up to his daughter.

After running around the whole castle and the dragon pits, he found you in the room. Her little shoulders were shaking as she was still crying. Visenya was sitting in the middle of the room on the ground. Her back was turned to the door, and therefore she had not yet noticed Daemon entering the room. “I am sorry, can you forgive your old dad?��� He sat himself down next to her and put his arm around him. Visenya looked at him still mad and shrugged of his arm. “The thing is your mother was the love of my life, she was my friend and lover, we were so excited to welcome you into our little family but then..” his words fades as he remembers the day you died. “But then she died, and my life just shattered, you were the only thing that kept me here.” This time when he wrapped his arm Visenya leaned into his side.

“What was she like?” she asks softly. “Oh she was amazing, she was so fierce, smart and just lovely. Her smile would light up everybody around here, she warmed my cold hart.” Visenya let out a soft laugh. “Did she hate me?” he swallows after hearing that question. “No, no definitely not, she wanted the maester to save to at all costs.” He lets go of his daughter and walked to the bookshelf. Visenya looked at him curiously as he grabbed a little book. “Your mother wrote down her entire pregnancy, in here she mentioned all the little things, her cravings, when she found out, when she told me, the moment she felt you kicking for the first time and every little thought she had. She carried the book around everywhere she went.”

Visenya took the book from him and carefully opened it on the first page. Her eyes flew over the pages as she read the first little thoughts you had written down. Her beautiful different colored eyes filled with tears as she hugged the book to her chest. “Can I keep it?” her voice breaks a little bit, and he nods. “Yes, from now on you can enter the room whenever you want, and I will answer any questions you have about your mom, you deserve to know her.” She smiles and launches in his arms. “Thank you, thank you!”

“I have one more thing, I would be honored for you to have.” He walked to the little jewelry box on the table. He carefully opened it and took out a little dainty necklace. “It’s Valyrian steel, these gems matched your mothers’ eyes perfectly, as it does your eyes.” Visenya’s eyes glister with tears as she carefully picks up the necklace. “She used to wear is all the time, and I wanted to bury her with it, but I could not.” He explained while carefully picking up the necklace and clasping it around her neck.

The rest of the day he told her stories about her mother. Telling how you had once fought with ser Criston Cole after being so mad at his remarks towards Rhaenyra, because you were Daemons wife Cole was able to little then take the hit and he had walked around with a broken nose for a few weeks. He realized that he much rather would keep your memory alive by talking about you than keeping you locked away and as his daughter was laughing about the stories, he knew that he should have never kept her away from your memory. Visenya deserved to know who her mother was.

____

Part three 

[ghostlywhiskey]

Simon "Ghost" Riley - No Remedy

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 665 

Warnings: None, besides a super tiny part implicating smut, but I wouldn't even classify it as that.

Summary: Simon is just a memory after he doesn't come back from a mission. Inspiration by Lana Del Rey's Dark Paradise.

Notes: My first writing piece in a long time - so, nothing crazy! Super quick, but enjoyed getting back into writing. Thank you to mother Lana for inspiration. It only felt right using her for inspo being back on Tumblr.

find my masterlist here

And there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody. It won't leave my head.

Simon rolled over in bed, his body deep in slumber sleep recognizing your presence was absent from his embrace. As if it was programmed into his subconscious, his arm reached out to pull you close to him. The way his rough hand gently slipped under his t-shirt you had claimed yours to sprawl his hand out on your abdomen.

You stirred slightly in your sleep. Never in your life were you able to claim you were a heavy sleeper. 

Despite the heaviness of your eyelids, they opened slowly and adjusted to the dark room. The only light came from the window and even then, the glow off the moon offered little to no help in guiding your eyes through the dark.

Carefully, in an effort to not wake Simon, your body turned onto the opposite side. 

His face looked relaxed and peaceful, his guard down as he always slept better next to you. Marked with a few scars, he was still the most handsome man you laid your eyes on.

Your soul is haunting me and  telling me that everything is fine.

The cries of the son you share with Simon echoed through the upstairs hallway. In a brisk movement, you were out of the bed and into the nursery. 

The 8-month old was in your arms as you swayed him gently, trying to soothe him.

“It’s okay, baby. Mama’s here.” You whispered into the child’s ear kissing his cheek.

The cries continued despite your efforts. You glanced at the open window of the nursery - it was a clear summer night, sounds of crickets in the distance creating the only melody of the night. But, a delicate breeze coursing through the opened window, the curtains dancing in response. 

A wave of serenity washed over the hysterical child, as if the breeze whispered ‘Relax’. The cries halted and the curtains came to a rest. But, the sound of crickets remained, pulling you back into the reality like a high pitched scream compared to the murmur brought by the breeze.

Every time I close my eyes, it’s like a dark paradise. No one compares to you, But there's no you, except in my dreams tonight.

Fingers interlocked as your footprints mark the sand below, Simon’s thumb grazing your hand softly. 

You stop in your tracks, tugging Simon’s hand gently to get his attention to stop walking. His body turns, his gaze landing on you as he looks down. 

“Everything alright, angel?” His voice is much more soft spoken than usual.

“I love you.” There is no direct answer to his question, the three words escaping your lips before you could register what had been asked.

“I love you. But, is everything alright?” Simon repeats his question, as if he knows you aren’t. 

As you go to respond, an imaginary rope tightens around your neck. 

It pulls at you.

And pulls again.

Your eyes open suddenly. Your body gasping for air. Your brain flooded with consciousness despite being fast asleep moments ago. 

There's no relief, I see you in my sleep…

The headboard hits the wall with every thrust. Simon’s left hand holds the back of your head to keep your focus on him and the right hand on your waist. 

Your eyes locked on each other is the only communication needed at the moment in addition to the moans. 

But, both your heads turn towards the door as the faint voice calls for your name. The grip of his hand on your waist tightens as if he is scared you’ll leave. You always seemed to leave.

And everybody's rushing me, but I can feel you touching me.

At the same, your eyes lock back onto each other. Your hands moving to place your hands on his cheeks.

“I’m not going anywhere, Simon.” Your voice is soft and reassuring. 

For the first time in your life, you are a heavy sleeper.

[arikazu]

torment / Lee know

summary : Lee know seems to love you or it was all just a misunderstanding?

Warning : angst and hurt inspire by my life real events

There was a trail that she could follow.

She was an unwanted child; being the oldest in the family did not mean that everyone respected her or loved her. Her father saw her as a disgrace to the family.

She doesn't seem to remember how she got that scar but her cousin's brother must have given her that scar when she didn't obey his order and rebel against him. Her father didn't favour her and locked her inside the room for two days without food and water.

Have you noticed how y/n's parents treat her? They act like they love her and are her real parents, but something seems off. And guess what? y/n just found a scar on her body that appears to be from her blood. What could it mean?

It's heartbreaking to think that her life was nothing but an illusion, created by her own family. It must have been incredibly difficult to navigate through a world that wasn't truly hers, all while feeling a sense of anger and frustration towards those who were meant to love and support her.

Her sister Hitomi was a loved child.

Her mother would always tell her when she would tie her long black hair in a bun.

"y/n your father does not hate you he just wants you to be independent and responsible"

Did he?

Was she a disgrace to her parents?

She was 20 when she met minho.

Her life seemed to change that night.

She was sitting under the sakura tree. The cherry blossom smell seemed to linger against her nostrils.

The sweet smell of childhood and youngness only reminded him of the day he bumped into her.

She was talking loudly With her friend group when she shouted that OP Jindal was a good university and one of the slim-looking young lads who had dirty blonde hair seemed to be immature and a lot younger than her.

A weird stare at her.

She got a little pissed off at his glasses and she shouted in a little funny voice "What! Why are you staring at me!?" She threw her arms up in the air.

He smiled and said "It's not a good university" 

A little weird way to interact right?

First glares and first smiles were exchanged that day.

She would tell her feelings to him through her eyes and he would understand a thing.

The first thing he noticed about her was the y/n scar which was on her face. That day she looked like a 19-year-old woman and he was a 20-year-old man.

After a good debate of 5 minutes, they exchanged handshakes and names.

"y/n" 

" minho" 

To continue the conversation with her he would tell her about his ex-girlfriend.

"My ex-girlfriend shares the same class as yours Her name is Kimi we just broke up" 

y/n's eyes widened a little at his words because it was the first y/n a stranger was telling her about their breakup.

It's the personal thing about minho and Kimi which happened between them and it is something you won't tell a stranger.

It gave y/n a strange feeling that she could not express a sense of the knot of butterflies flying against her belly.

Even though that young man she met seemed to think about his words.

The way he took her to her library was a secret hideout spot for him only.

It was his safe ship.

It was a special day for her and a memory because he only took her to the library even though he talked with her friend too.

Noaya only took y/n with him.

To that safe ship.

"So what's your life like?"

She was sitting on the couch and he asked her a weird question indeed.

As he looked at her, it was clear that he wanted to know every single thing about her. His eyes seemed to be searching for any clue that would help him understand her better. 

However, as much as he was curious about her, it was also apparent that he was not the kind of person who would love her in a slow, steady way. minho knew that this was something that would haunt her for the rest of her life. 

It was as if her closed heart and coldness were slowly but surely consuming him, leaving him feeling burnt out and drained. 

Despite knowing this, she couldn't help but wonder if he would still stick around, or if he would eventually give up and walk away.

As days passed by the dry leaves of trees were coming back to life. He stocked around her more in her eyes he seemed to be an accomplice to her a friend she needed but to others, it looked like something else.

For her friends he liked her.

For Kimi 

y/n was the only girl he talked to her.

He would often ask her.

"Do you want to go library with me?" 

A secret code so he could steal her away from the crowd of some people who were familiar to her but to Noaya they were strangers as she spent more y/n with him her friends also became strangers to her.

Her friends told her that 

"minho seems to have developed a fondness for you. He always seems to be around you

and he doesn't interact with anyone else. It's as if you're the only one he's interested in. Some people have even noticed that he doesn't greet anyone else but you."

He would always ask her out indirectly.

And she would decline his offer.

# Having a fear of attachment can be an incredibly scary experience. It can feel even more terrifying than facing death itself, especially if you have spent a significant portion of your life feeling isolated and alone. 

When someone new enters your life, you may feel hesitant to open your heart to them. 

You might wonder what will happen if they hurt you, emotionally or physically.

 What if they abandon you just like others have in the past? The thought of being neglected or ignored by someone you've developed feelings for can be incredibly daunting. 

All of these fears can make it difficult to form meaningful connections with others, even when you want to.

And that's what happened.

All of her friends were slowly neglecting her.

And the person whom she found comfort in was slowly distancing himself from her.

She was sitting with him near the couch in these past few days have been hard for her and Kimi has been confronting her about y/n and minho's relationship.

minho was sitting all silent his eyebrows were furrowed and he looked serious.

y/n couldn't quite hear what he was saying, his voice was barely audible. 

But as she strained to listen, she realized that his world must have just shattered. "I am thinking of fixing things with Kimi," he finally uttered. y/n's heart sank as she tried to process what she had just heard.

 "As... a couple?" she asked tentatively, hoping that she had misunderstood. 

But his response confirmed her worst fears. "No, as a friend," he said. "She was my best friend once, and I should fix things with her before we go to university."

"I see yeah since Kimi was your person you should fix things with her" Utanime tried to smile hiding her sadness behind that fake smile that she had mastered in these past few years.

minho expressed his desire to keep in touch with certain individuals at the university, including Nissan and Kimi. He mentioned that he had noticed a lack of enthusiasm from the other students in his coaching class, and thus had only engaged with a select few. y/n listened to minho's concerns with a compassionate ear, nodding in acknowledgement of his situation.

"y/n I ALSO WANT TO BE WITH YOU ONCE WE GO TO UNIVERSITY " 

LIAR: a person who lies to you and makes you believe that after all, you were just a fool in the end.

He said he would be with her till the end.

After resolving the issues between himself and Kimi, he left her stranded and alone, much like how the rain leaves the barren earth waiting for a gentle drizzle to kiss it back to life. She was ignored and not given any attention, as if she was invisible. The worst part was that in the end, she was the one who was blamed for everything that went wrong, even though she had done nothing wrong.

"y/n why are you regretting it now? He liked you first but you were the only one who didn't even spare a glance at him" 

"He tried his best to approach you were the one who used to talk shit about him not only behind his back but to his face also" 

"Isn't it obvious he would choose Kimi over you since you were just the girl he met while Kimi was his best friend and ex-girlfriend"

"y/n you are the other woman" 

In the end, she lost the chance to at least love him.

She loved him because he made her feel loved.

Despite her belief that she was causing him emotional suffering, it was the other way around. He was the one who was tormenting her heart, leaving her in a state of confusion and pain. 

She struggled to understand how she could be so blind to his true feelings, and the realization that she had been mistaken all along only added to her distress. 

[rottenroyalebooks]

Love Drunk - 0.1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x older sister!Harrington reader

Also includes: Steve Harrington x sister!reader (siblings)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N Harrington left Hawkins as soon as she turned eighteen with her boyfriend to follow her dreams of being a Rockstar. Three years later, she returns to Hawkins alone and scarred. Now, she has to repair her broken relationship with her younger brother, all while trying to prevent herself from falling for a cute metal head who plays at the Hideout, where she works.

Warnings: None.

Next ->

Driving back to Hawkins, Indiana, was the last thing I thought I would do.

I wouldn't say I liked this hellhole and got away as soon as possible. I never wanted to see the all-too-familiar roads and trees filled with bad memories.

Why did I come back here if I hated this place so much? My life fell apart underneath my feet, and I had no choice.

The drive was long and taxing, but I had a caravan from the 60s that still worked beautifully, so I didn't have to stay in any motels. I left California with a few boxes of my possessions and my black and white Saint Bernard Baxter, and we hit the open road together. It was a long trip, but eventually, I pulled into the driveway of my family home, which was pitch black.

Being late into the night, I was not surprised that the house was dark. I pulled my van into the backyard so it wouldn't be seen by anyone who drove by. I turned my van off and climbed into the back of my caravan, grabbing my travel bag and waking Baxter up so he wouldn't be sleeping outside in the cold.

I tried the back door, but it was locked, so I had to grab the spare key that was always kept underneath my mother's favorite garden gnome. I scoffed, showing the key to Baxter, who tilted his head. "See? They're predictable."

Once I unlocked the door and returned the key to its hiding place, I crept into the kitchen slowly, with Baxter trailing behind me and lazily trudging around. I poked my head into the garage, seeing it bare of any cars, and scoffed, "Nobody's home? They're probably away on business again." I pulled myself back into the house and closed the door.

I started thinking about my little brother Steve. He must have been nineteen, probably off at some fancy university far away from this town. Good for him.

I found my way to my old bedroom, letting Baxter in with promises of bedtime, and closed the door behind me. The room had barely been touched, though my parents were never home enough to care about what had happened. My bed was a mess, my posters were still on the walls, my desk was nearly covered in junk, my old makeup lay on the dresser, and my records were still in a box I had put together.

Sighing happily, I put my backpack on a chair and watched as Baxter jumped onto my bed, making himself as comfortable as possible. I sat on the bed next to my nightstand, which held the phone I had begged my parents to put in for me. I picked it up, hearing the dial tone and beeping as I pressed one of the few numbers I had memorized.

I pressed the phone to my ear, listening to the ringing. Finally, after a few rings, there's a male voice coming from the receiver, "I swear to god, somebody better be dead if you have the bright idea of calling me at three in the fucking morning."

I held back a laugh, "Jim! Hey, it's Y/N,"

I could almost feel his mood lighten, "Y/N? I never thought I'd hear your voice again! How've you been, kid?"

"Could be better. it could be worse. I'm back in town wondering if the pub needs a bartender."

He hummed lightly, "Luckily for you, Paul retired two weeks ago, and I've been having trouble finding decent help. You got any experience bartending?"

I smiled, thankful that he didn't push my return further, "I was a bartender for three years. I kept my nights busy."

"Perfect, you're hired. Can I go back to bed now?"

Giggling, I nodded, knowing he couldn't see me, "Yes, yes, sorry for calling so late. Goodnight, Jim." I placed the phone in the receiver and began stretching, getting myself ready to sleep.

My peace didn't last very long as my door swung open, revealing none other than my little brother, who wasn't so little anymore, welding a baseball bat in his hands. I jumped slightly and held my hands up in surrender, "Whoa, whoa! Steve?"

He stared at me, his features melting into a look of surprise, "Y/N?" He kept the bat high up in the air.

The two of us spoke in unison, "What are you doing here?"

"I asked you first, twerp."

He looked at me with an exasperated expression, "I'm literally the one with the bat."

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest as the adrenaline died down, "I have an attack dog. Don't make me sick him on you."

He glanced behind me, looking at Baxter; smirking, he just looked back at me as he lowered the bat, "Oh yeah, he's an attack dog alright."

I looked over my shoulder and turned to look at Baxter, who laid there unbothered; passed out nearly dead to the world. If it weren't for the slow rise and fall of his upper body, I would have thought he was dead.

"I could be facing an actual murder right now, and you would just be blissfully aware until you woke up to see my dead body."

Steve sighed, "N/N, what happened?"

I turned back to him, "I'm back in Hawkins. Mom and Dad don't need to know. Hopefully, I'll find a place of my own soon. Trust me, you'll barely know I'm here."

He just stared at me, his expression unreadable as he contiplated my words. He grew a lot since I last saw him. His hair was shorter back then. He was shorter. He's no longer the scrawney kid I had to protect in my senior year, when he was merely a freshman.

I probably looked different, too, but in other ways.

"I should probably get some rest, I have an early shift." He awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, kid. We'll talk later,  I want to know everything I've missed." I smirked, grabbing the covers and pulling them over my legs, "Hit the lights on the way out?"

He chuckled lightly, nodding, "Yeah, goodnight, Melody." He baked out of the doorframe, flipping the lights off for me before closing the door, leaving me to stare up at the ceiling; which still had the glow in the dark stars on it.

Baxter rolled over a bit, cuddling into my side as we got comfortable in my bed.

[tadfools]

bee hello!! <3 <3 do you have any hcs for astarion's birth family? supposedly if they're elves they could still be alive...

This is longer than I meant it to be but you said my name so I love you anon and have unlocked an info dump that I've been sitting on for 2.5 years. This got away from me but the tldr is his mama's are named Aneirin and Juliana

I actually have a fic cooking right now about after the game's epilogue with his parents in it. Not to get too sidetracked, but my Tav is a necromancer, their son is dead and yet apparently saved all of the gate so... they come a knocking under the pretence that necromancer brought their dead son back as a thrall, pain comedy ensues (it'll be great i promise)

Astarion's only about 240 years old if we're taking the time he's been dead into account (high elves reach full maturity around 100 if you go by 5e rules and can live up to an average of 750)

I think his birth mother is on the soft side of 500 and with him being a magistrate, the Ancunín's come from money. Despite him having a grave in Baldur's Gate, I think his family resides in Evereska (its a big elven city) I've seen a few people ruminate over the possibility of him being a moon elf but... I don't know, there's something about him being ripped from the sun in every possible way that means so much to me. There's a part with the dark urge where he talks about not giving up freedom for all the gems in Evereska (i'm paraphrasing from memory here) I used that as an excuse to have him be from that city

Aneirin is the name I'm using for her in the fic and I think before he was taken from the sun and put under so much stress that his hair greyed, that he looked just like her.

Beautiful brown eyes that shine like copper under the sun but meld into a rich earth in the night. Her suntan skin is covered in freckles head to toe, her long curly hair is always kept within a neat braid which is coiled into a bun at the base of her neck. There’s a streak of grey woven through the curls

She has always been a kind woman, born into the higher echelons of society, she married an older elven man quite young named Tiberius at her parent’s behest to secure a business merger. Aneirin refused to take his last name. While they were always cordial to one another, there was no love shared between her and Tiberius but the son they had, Astarion, was the light of her life. There was no greater joy than hearing that of her son’s laughter. He loved her dearly and had promised to answer the sending spells she would toss his way after leaving Evereska – until he abruptly stopped

I think the Ancunín’s are skilled wizards, though Astarion falls into the arcane trickster category for me. If during the game his last name was ever mentioned, I fully think Gale would have had a wash of dread flow through him. The family keep to themselves yes, but that name is known through higher arcane circles

Tiberius died when Astarion was just a boy, there were never any memories to solidify him as Astarion’s father. But there was a wood elf woman named Juliana who always had a mischievous smile that kept close to the side of his mother. She was the one who taught Astarion on how to pick a lock, to balance on the heel of his foot as to not be noticed. She was the one who showed him how to wield a bow – much to his mother’s chagrin

Juliana has wine dark hair and is hardly ever seen without a ring on each finger. Tall and lithe, she glides through the room as if she were a shadow. Mischief incarnate, little Astarion took to her like a duck in water

Juliana and Aneirin met in their twenties at a ball - or a banquet (the two can never remember) Juliana’s family ran a renowned winery, Aneirin always fancied wine. And while Aneirin’s title forced her to marry Tiberius, the two women were never far from each other. After his death, she became a patron of the winery

I have a story beat where at the Last Light Astarion picks up an old bottle of red wine absentmindly and in gilded font it reads ‘Aneirin Red: dagger sheathed bow no longer notched; may the sunlight guide you home’ It *failed skilled check* strikes no chord in his mind