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morganski-19 · 6 months

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I Don’t Know Which Way’s Home

Chapter 1: The Reveal

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September 1986

Julie slams the door shut when she comes home, she doesn’t mean to, most of the time. But today, she really does. And the hinge is already broken so what harm is it really going to do? So she ignores the comment her mom makes about it and does it again with her bedroom door, hearing the slam vibrate the walls of the trailer.

She’s just so sick of it. It’s like every single class decides to do some stupid project that just makes her stand out from the beginning in front of kids who might not already know. Not like anyone does. Everyone knows everyone’s business in this town, and Julie’s family situation is no different.

The problem today, was the beginning-year project her Spanish teacher assigned. A family tree, something simple to introduce yourself to the class and to see what you remembered from the last year. The only problem is, Julie is always missing half a tree.

Her father has been a void in her life for its entirety. There’s no face to the name, and no name to even put a face to. Her mother won’t tell her anything, not even a peep. The most she knows is that he was a mistake her mom made for a few months that ended as soon as she became pregnant. Which translated into Julie’s mind that she was an accident. And with how their situation turned out, she couldn’t help but believe it was true.

So when she’s reminded of the fact that her existence on this Earth is due to one of her mother’s flings that never lasts a year, she gets to slam a few doors. She gets to play the Iron Maiden tape she found on the ground one day at full volume without complaint. She doesn’t even like it that much, but it was free and loud enough to match the screaming that was going on inside her head.

That’s the worst part, with how angry she can get about her family situation, she can never be mad at her mom for too long. Not after everything she’s done to make sure Julie had a good life. Not a perfect one, but one where they at least had a roof over their heads and weren’t living on the streets.

It’s bad enough that her mom had to work two jobs just to get them by, she didn’t need to deal with all of Julie’s problems on top of that.

“Would you like to tell me why you’ve just permanently broken the front door, or am I supposed to guess?” Her mom says after coming into the room without knocking and turning the music down.

Julie grunts from where her face is dug into the pillow. Hoping that it was enough to make her mom leave, but it never was.

“Come on,” her mom gives her a soft shove. “You don’t get to barge into the house and break a door without explanation. What’s up?”

“What up is a stupid Spanish project,” Julie complains angrily as she rolls onto her back, glaring at the ceiling. “It’s a stupid family tree where I know I’ll be questioned on it in front of the whole class, again, on why I ‘failed to include my dad on the tree’. Like I would fucking leave him out on purpose.”

She feels the bed dip as her mom sits on the foot of it. “I’ll let that slide this time because you’re upset.”

“Yeah, I am. I just am so tired of explaining it in every single damn class I seem to have that he just left and I have no clue who he is. They don’t have a right to my life and I don’t need the pity looks they give me once they figure it out. And what’s worse is that everyone in the class already knows except for the teacher, so dumb Billy Johnson will start snickering or some shit, and then I’m the kid without a dad all over again.”

“Bullies really need to get some new material,” her mom jokes without hesitation.

Julie snorts. “Tell me about it. “ She gets softer, already feeling the anger start to dissipate. And when it does, all that is left is the gaping hole in her heart that she knows will never be filled. “I don’t even care that he’s not in my life anymore, I accepted that he wouldn’t be a long time ago. I just want to know who he is. Why I’m here. Why you won’t tell me anything about him.”

“I just don’t think-”

“Oh just save it mom, I’ve heard all the excuses. I’m not a little kid anymore who writes that her dad will want to know her in her Santa letters anymore. I know he doesn’t give a shit about me, I just want to know who. I deserve to have a name to not give a shit about either.”

Her bed rises again as her mom leaves, turning the music back to full volume and shutting the door softly behind her. Julie rolls back over, pulling her blankets over her head, and starts to feel like shit again.

It’s not just the fact that she doesn’t have a present dad that bullies love to tease, there are more kids than you’d expect with only one parent. It’s that her mom wasn’t married when she had Julie that was the problem. Unwanted pregnancies are like drugs for small towns, they spread like wildfire. The second the neighbor saw that her mom had a significant bump, it was everywhere. And then the kids heard it from their parents at every school function.

It’s all, “Oh poor Julie Lawson, her mother couldn’t keep a boyfriend long enough for her to have a real dad.” Like they have the right to comment on Julie’s family. Or her mom. No one does, not even her.

. . .

October 1986, Present Day

Steve walks in after his shift with two pizzas, a six-pack of beer, and Robin right behind him. It was Friday, which means that Robin, Eddie, and him shook off the kids for a night to watch a movie. Alone. They loved the kids but sometimes it was nice to have a night without chaos. Calming even.

Eddie wasn’t coming over for a few more hours because of his band practice, so Steve stuck the pizzas in the oven so they stayed warm. Robin already makes herself at home, rummaging through the fridge to find something to drink and making a nest out of blankets in the living room when she does. Steve follows her, digging himself into the nest and putting something on the TV.

An hour or so later, he hears a knock at the front door. Robin gives him a concerned look as he leaves the living room to open it. Eddie had a key so he just let himself in, and they weren’t expecting anyone else. And with their track record, it could go from random salesperson to world apocalypse pretty fast.

When he opens the door, a girl he guesses is around Dustin’s age is there, nervously playing with her hands, a backpack loosely thrown over her shoulder. “Hi, sorry to bother you but, do the Harrington’s live here?” she asks shyly.

“Yes, I’m Steve. Who are you?” There is a familiarity to her face that he can’t quite place.

“Steve, right, he had a son. Sorry, this week’s been weird. I’m uh, my name is Julie. Your dad kinda knew my mom.”

He must have met her at one of his dad’s work events, that has to be why she looks familiar. “Oh ok, did she have to drop something off here or something?”

“Well, kinda. But it’s not what you’re probably expecting.” She pauses looking unsure of what she is going to say next. “Can I- can I come it, you might want to sit down for what I have to say. It’s kind of shocking.”

“I’m not sure, I don’t really know you. Could you tell me who your mom is, maybe I can remember you then.”

She takes a deep breath. “When I said that my mom knew your dad, I didn’t mean from work. Well, I did mean from work but she hasn’t worked for him in over fifteen years, so I doubt you’d remember her. She was his secretary for a while, and they had a very,” she pauses again, looking around to see if anyone is there. “Intimate, relationship.”

The dots clicked immediately in his head, thoughts immediately started to run around about who this girl could really be. He thinks that her offer to sit down was probably necessary. “Yeah, why don’t you come in.”

“Ok.” She steps through the doorway, waiting for him to lead her through the house.

He brings her to the kitchen, motioning for her to sit at the small table. Grabbing a few glasses, he fills them with water and brings them over, placing one in front of her. She thanks him, taking it and gulping it down with shaky hands. The more he looks at her, the more he can’t help but see more and more similarities, just ones that remind him of himself.

“Who was it, Steve,” Robin asks, wandering into the kitchen. “Oh shit, hi.”

“Rob, this is Julie, her mom apparently knew my dad.” Steve makes a motion with his head to indicate how, hoping that she can read it right.

Her eyes widen in shock. “Oh like, special knew. Like knew knew.”

“Yes,” Julie says weakly. “Yeah, they did.”

“Oh shit,” Robin takes a seat next to Steve, her hand immediately finding his. It brings comfort, reassurance that she’s there. He knew his dad was a piece of crap cheater, his mom certainly made it known during many of their screaming matches. But with the girl staring at him with the same eyes he sees every morning in the mirror, his brain can’t help but jump to the conclusion that she’s, something. And that just makes his chest tighten in anxiety.

“I, uh.” Julie starts, wringing her hand nervously again. “I don’t really know how to say this gently. But, when my mom worked for your dad, they had an affair. It didn’t last that long, but remember when I said my mom stopped working for him like fifteen years ago? It was actually seventeen because that’s when she figured out she was pregnant.”

Steve feels a lump forming in his throat as she nods, trying to take it all in. “With you?” he asks, not knowing how he is even speaking at all right now. Robin squeezes his hand.

Julie gives a small nod, looking down at the table. “Yeah.”

“And my dad is-” he can’t finish the sentence, but it’s answered by her sorry nod. “Holy shit.”

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to wrap his head around everything. This girl, Julie, is his sister. Half-sister, whatever, it doesn’t matter. Robin breaks her contact with him and goes to rub his back instead. His head falls into his hands propped up on the table and he just focuses on breathing.

“Steve, you ok?” Robin’s voice soothes him a little bit, but when your world just gets shattered, there’s not much that can be done to help completely.

“I knew he cheated. I knew that. It’s why my mom followed him around on all his trips. But he- he had a kid, and just hid it.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot, I have proof if you want to see it.”

Steve looks at Robin, asking her what to do with his eyes. She shrugs, her way of saying that it couldn’t hurt. Probably is better that they have proof anyway, make sure this is legit. He nods, unable to say anything.

“Could we see it? Just to double-check everything,” Robin asks for him. God, he’s so happy that she’s here. He can’t imagine doing this by himself

Julie ruffles around in her backpack, random clothes peeping out as she pulls out a file. She opens it, pulling out two pieces of paper before going in again and pulling out what looks like a school ID. “Here’s my birth certificate and the paternity test. And my ID with my picture on it, so you know it’s me.”

The first thing he sees is his father’s name on the test results, followed by the line saying his relation to Julie is undeniable. That he was undeniably the father. The birth certificate only has the signature of her mother and the doctor, but the father’s name is absent. He ditched them, probably made her mom prove that this kid was his, and then just paid them to shut them up. His mom would never know, he would never know, and they never had access to any of his records.

Julie Rebecca Lawson, born January 28, 1970. He was three when she was born. He’s had a sibling this whole time, and he didn’t even know it.

“Does your mom know you’re here?” Robin asks, softly.

Julie’s face visibly falls as she rapidly blinks away some tears. “She- she died two weeks ago. Car accident.”

“I’m so sorry, Julie,” Robin reaches across to comfort her, but the hand she was going to grab gets pulled away. “Whoever is watching you then, do they know where you are?”

She sniffles. “I’ve been staying with a foster family while they find a permanent placement. They don’t really care where I am. My caseworkers were trying to find some family, but my grandparents are long gone and my mom’s sister is in no place to take in a kid. So they were looking on my dad’s side.” She says the word dad as if they don’t fit right in her mouth.

“I didn’t come here looking for a place to say,” she continues. “Right before my mom passed, she finally told me about my dad. How he never wanted anything to do with me because he had a big reputation and another family. It was supposed to be a secret, but the more I thought about it, I couldn’t help but think that you had a right to know. And then since she-, since I needed a place to stay, it was only a matter of time before you found out. I knew he was out of town so I thought it might be better to say it myself. Now I’m not so sure that was such a great idea.”

“No,” Steve finally says. “I’m, I’m glad you told me. You’re right, we, me and my mom, had a right to know. So, thank you.” He turns to look at Robin, her face shifting when she sees the panic in his. “Rob, could I talk to you for a minute?”

She stands. “Yeah. We’ll be right back, ok Julie.”

Julie says a soft reply as Robin leads Steve to the living room. “I don’t know what to do, Rob.”

“How could you? You just found out that your dad had another kid. With another woman. And then hid it from you. How are you supposed to cope with that information?”

“I don’t know. I have no clue what to do. But I can’t-. Shit Rob, I want to help her.”

“Steve, you don’t know her, at all. She just spawned on your doorstep not even an hour ago and just dropped the biggest bombshell on you since the, you know what. I get that you want to help her, I do. Shit, I do too. But I’m just asking that you take a step back and think about this.”

Steve crosses his arms, pulling his eyebrows together. The decision was pretty much made in his mind, but she was right. “What if she stays the night, we sleep on this and get to know her more tomorrow. Then we can go from there.”

“Ok,” she puts a hand on Steve’s arm. “That’s a good plan.”

Robin steps forward, pulling him into a hug before they walk back into the kitchen. Julie looks back up at them, uncertainty filling her face. It reminds him so much of himself it sort of hurts. “Julie, you can stay the night, if you want to. That way tomorrow we can talk some more, and get to know each other, figure out what to do about this. But I can drive you back to the house you’re staying at if you’d like.”

“Could I stay here, I really don’t like it there.” The fear that coats her eyes with the mention only makes it worse.

“Come on, I’ll show you the guest room.”

Julie stands, grabs her bag and follows after Steve. When he shows her to the room, she stands in it like like she knows she doesn’t belong. He can’t help but think it’s not the first time she’s felt like this, especially since he’s pretty sure she brought enough clothes for a few days in her bag.

He tells her where the bathroom is, where his bedroom is if she needs anything. She nods silently. The similarities between them keep coming in waves. Sure they’re not like an exact match. But her eyes, her jawline, her hair, it’s ever so similar to his. If they were to walk down the street together, it would be clear that they were siblings.

The fact that it’s true just keeps shocking him all over again.

“You’re welcome to anything in the kitchen, and there’s plenty of supplies in the bathroom if you need any. I keep it all under the sink. And, don’t be afraid to ask for anything, ok?” He stands there awkwardly, not quite knowing what else to do.

“Ok,” she replies softly, placing her bag on the bed and pulling out some things.

When he shuts the door behind him, it finally hits. He practically runs back down the stairs to find Robin waiting in the living room, on the phone with someone.

“Yeah, something came up and we can’t do movie night anymore. No nothing bad, yeah no he’s fine. I’m fine. We’re all good, just a migraine. Yep. I’ll have him call you tomorrow. No, you don’t need to do that. Ok, bye.” Robin turns to him when she hangs up the phone. “Eddie, thought it was pretty clear that movie night was canceled.”

“Yeah, no, it was. I-” the words get stuck in his throat. “I have a sister, Rob.”

Robin crosses over to him, pulling his fingers away from where they held his arms in a death grip. “I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now.”

“Angry mostly. How could he keep this from us, from my mom? From me? Do you know how many times I wished for a sibling, only for me to have one all along and just not know about it? And then she goes through life knowing her dad didn’t want her. I can’t begin to imagine what that is like.”

“Pretty shitty probably. What do you really want to do about all of this Steve?”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. I want to help her, get to know her. But I-I don’t know if I can do this.”

“She wasn’t asking you to fix everything. She just lost her mom, I think she just wants someone to lean on like that again.”

“But what if I can’t even do that?”

Robin gives him a soft look that he knows means he’s overthinking it all again. “Let’s go get some sleep ok. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

They walk upstairs, passing the room that Julie is staying in on the way to his. He remembers being little and looking at the empty guest rooms in his house, wondering when people would come to fill them. Wishing that when they did, they’d stay for longer than a week. Maybe then he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

When he was really young, he would sit in the rooms and pretend that it was other kids that filled them. Brothers and sisters that he got to play with for however long he wanted to. His nights would feel less empty and during the day he’d be less lonely. He’d be like every other kid on the playground with their siblings, pushing them on the swings and chasing them around the park. The house would be full of noise instead of deafening silence.

But that day never came. The years went on and he kept getting older. His mom went on more and more trips and then just stopped calling. The only time his dad ever called was after the police told him that he’d thrown a party. He used to just mess up just to hear his dad’s voice. Because then maybe he could convince himself that his dad cared for him. If you're disappointed enough to yell, that has to mean you care about something.

Most people say wait until you’re older and then you’ll understand like it’s some kind of mystery that everyone cheers when you solve it. Not knowing that some mysteries only crush the people around them. Steve Harrington spent most of his life alone and it wasn’t until he graduated and no one from his family showed up that he finally accepted why.

As he looks back at the guest room, he can’t help but feel that part of himself get unearthed again. That sad little kid that begged for someone who he could grow up with. Knowing that was there across town all his life only makes him hurt all over again.

The urge to call his dad right then and there is strong. To scream at him for hiding something that he wanted for so long. Yell at him for being a piece of shit to not just him, but to his mom, and to Julie. He was used to his dad, no one else deserved to be hurt like he was.

. . .

Julie lays in a bed that is bigger than one she’s owned in her entire life. Having one of this size would make it easier when she and her mom would share when her back was too sore after her double shifts to take the cot. The sheets are softer and clearly barely used, the fabric smells of fresh flowers.

She’s almost angry at all of this. That one person could have so much and be so cruel. That Steve got more out of their dad than she ever did. But one of them was wanted, the other clearly wasn’t.

The word still feels weird in her mind. Their dad. She didn’t even know the guy but she spent so long hating someone who was a dad to someone else. But by the lack of family pictures on the wall and the way Steve talked about him just briefly, it doesn’t look like he was much of a dad to Steve either.

She wonders what it’s like to live in this giant house alone. The empty walls and rooms prepared for people but never filled. There were at least two living rooms in this house and a kitchen just made for a party. A house so perfect from the outside but so broken from within.

Steve at least seemed nice, even after she broke the news. Hell, she’s still here, isn’t she? In her mind, she was preparing for the worst. To be kicked out on the curb right after even implying that her father was just that, her father. Because a businessman with a poster family could never do anything wrong, could never be a terrible person who would have a kid and just abandon it.

But she was believed, and accepted. Allowed to stay the night in a house she always dreamed of living in with a family she didn’t even know existed. She just hopes that in the morning it all won’t go to shit like everything else in her life seems to.

. . .

September 1986

Julie hears her mom call out for dinner from the kitchen. As much as she’d like to still be angry, she can’t force herself to avoid her mom forever. For what it’s worth, her mom is all she has in the realm of family and a friend. There’s no one who knows her like she does, and it’d just be cruel to let the pain of the past dwell any longer.

Except this isn’t a pain of the past, not for Julie. Almost daily she’s reminded that there’s someone out there who doesn’t care enough to know her, and that person is half the reason she exists. It seemed like everyone else in this town knew who their father was, even if they weren’t around, except for her.

But she can’t help but think about what her mom went through. How raising a kid on her own had to be, especially in a town like this. Someone she obviously cared about just dropping her after a positive test and leaving her high and dry. Life was hard, but she managed, somehow. Julie’s not so sure she would have in her position.

“I want to talk to you about something,” her mother starts once the table is cleared. She goes to sit back at the table, placing a folder on top of it. “What you said earlier, you’re right. You have a right to know who your father is, whether he’s in your life or not.”

Julie sits across from her mom. “I was just angry before, you really don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

It’s a lie and they both know it.

“No, you need to know. There’s going to be a point in the future where you’ll need to know certain things, medical history and such. And there might be a day when his family finds out about you and comes asking for questions.”

“His family,” she says shocked.

Her mom nods. “A wife and a son. He had both of them already when we were together.”

Julie’s entire world shifts. “What?”

“A year before you were born, I worked as a secretary for Richard Harrington in his business, well his dad’s business at the time. We entered an, inappropriate relationship, which ended up in you.”

“Inappropriate’s one way to say it,” she jokes under her breath. “He’s a big deal in town, Mom, his whole family is.”

Her mom nods. “It was risky and stupid and I never should have done it. But back then, he was good at hiding what a terrible person he was behind his looks and his charm. It wasn’t until you got to know him and got on his bad side that things went south.”

“So, when you got pregnant with me?”

“It went south, fast. I told him, he wanted you gone but I couldn’t go through with it. So instead we came up with a deal. I prove you were his with a paternity test, and he gives me a monthly payment to shut me up. It wasn’t a lot, clearly, but it would be enough to pay off the trailer in a few years and make sure we had money for bills.”

“I’m surprised that he gave you anything at all.” It really couldn’t have been that much if her mom had to work two jobs just in order to scrape by.

“The rich will do anything to keep a secret, including bribery. Everything you could ever need to know about him is in this file. With a copy of your birth certificate and the paternity test. Just so you have it. I’m sorry I kept it from you for so long.”

She looks at the file in her hand. It’s still pretty empty, but it has just enough. “I can see why you did. It’d be worse for you for a kid to accidentally tell everyone their dad is a Harrington.”

“It’d be bad.” Her mom clears her throat, looking down at her hands. “I also didn’t want you to think differently of me. I slept with a married man after all, for a year. That’s a pretty shitty thing to do to someone, even if you don’t know them.”

“Yeah, it is.” Julie would be lying if she said it didn’t come as a shock, that her mom would do that. All this time she thought that her dad was some drugged-up guy that she hooked up with for a month or two before they stole all her cash and ran off. That’s who her boyfriends were in the past few years, so it wouldn’t have been a surprise. But a married man, one with a kid, that’s a new one. “Do you regret it? Sleeping with him.”

“All the time, but then I’d never have you.” She reaches her hands across the table and cups them around Julie’s. “You’re my life, Jules. I love you more than anything, and I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant never having you.”

Julie puts a smile on her face. “Love you too, Mom. And thank you for telling me about this. Now I have a name to not give a shit about.”

“Yeah, now you do.”

Her mom gives her one last smile before going to the living room and setting up her cot. Julie takes the file and heads to her room, shutting the door softly behind her.

She doesn’t know how to describe what she’s feeling. Like a weight has been lifted off of her but a new feeling of dread came to replace it. The name of the person who she’s hated for so long is in her hands, and she doesn’t know what to do with it other than hate him more. He had a wife, and a kid, a young kid, and he still went and had an affair.

When she lies in her bed, waiting for sleep to come, all she can picture is the face of the man who ruined not only one life but three. And while her mom isn’t blameless, she can’t help but think that there is more to the story than her just willingly sleeping with him. She imagines taking her fist and hitting him straight in his smug face. Once for her mom, and once for her.

Chapter 2

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#stranger things #steve harrington #steve has a sibling #Julie Lawson #original female character #steddie #eddie munson #robin buckley #found family #secret family #steve's dad is a piece of shit #a real nasty one

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perpetuelledaydreaming · 2 years

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Hey hey, can you write a story with billy x yn? I think about something like, yn is related to somebody of the kids and he and billy know each other since childhood. She is a loud girl and bratty. Billy puts her in her place very often but he is very patient with her. He protects her from everything and everyone. When they're drunk sometimes they have no control and make out. One day when they are at a party again she gets too naughty billy can't help it and shows her who's in charge. The next day she ignores him because she thought he only did it because of the alcohol. But then he confesses his feelings to her

so I changed some things because I just like puke this out in two days but I really hope that you enjoooy <3.

Nonsense | billy hargrove

billy hargrove masterlist

playlists: how hot you feel | how good billy feels.

words: 3.8k

summary: Honestly, it's not your fault that Billy's an ass and that you have to try to forget about a certain kiss. Not that Billy's going to let you go out of that bathroom without making it very clear that you're his.

warnings: raw smuttt, i think it's the dirtiest thing I've wrote for billy lol. 18+. unprotected sex (sorry didn't have it in me to add the condom move)

“What the fuck are you doing?” Billy growled at you as he slammed shut the door to the bathroom. His electric blue eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared up, and his breath harsh as you glared at him.

To be fair, you’d warned Billy about letting loose that night.

You’d been so exhausted from final exams that you really just wanted to throw it all away. You’d been locked up in your room studying for about a month, which you knew you had to do since you wanted to leave High School on a good note. Now, you were ready to move to California with Billy, your best friend. At least, that was what you considered him for a while, although he would probably deny that you were best friends since he acted like he couldn’t stand you.

See, Billy and you had a complicated relationship. Billy had been in your life since you could remember, his mother and yours were actually best friends which meant that you’d had pictures with him together on the beach since you were one year old. His mother always told you that you were destined to fall in love but both of you always refused the notion; even to the point where you had promised the other that you’d never fall in love with the other.

And yet, you broke it sometime around your thirteen birthday.

Billy grew resentful and angry when he grew up, which only got worse when his mother left. Thankfully, your father had become friends with Neil to the point that you weren’t cut off from Billy’s life, it also meant that your father wasn’t a great person. In those times, after Billy would appear with a black eye at school, you would chase him around trying to see if he needed the help but he would often yell at you when other boys and some girls surrounded him. You would fight him, calling him out on how he was treating you -one thing with you was that you would never go down quiet-, curse him out as he called you a brat and then run away.

Just like you were doing right now.

“Nobody asked you to ruin my chances of getting laid tonight!” you screamed at him, jabbing at his chest. For a moment you saw his expression falter, a look of hurt flashed across his features but then they returned to the same vexed expression.

“Well, you were acting like a fucking slut,” he spat cruelly.

His words would always sting, no matter how used you were about them and no matter that you’d known that Billy didn’t mean them. You didn’t try to mind them though, but you did wonder how the hell did they still affect you after all those years.

“Fuck you,” you challenged.

Although the hurt only surfaced for a moment before you manage to conceal it again, you see how he immediately regrets it as you tried to move towards the door, reaching for you.

He always reached for you, he was always there for you.

After your fights, Billy would sneak into your room and he would curl up with you without your parents knowing on your bed. He would read to you and you would play with his curls until he felt safe enough to tell you what happen, sometimes he would cry and you would hold him.

Then, after he left on those nights, you would never talk about it but there was clearly a shift in your relationship after the first night.

And then Billy got into a fight with someone, which only validated your theories that something had changed

You admitted that some might consider you a brat but you couldn’t care less about what they thought. It was usually your way or the highway, you wondered if it was because of how you grew up in a household where you didn’t feel able to make your own choices or speak your mind because of your father but you decided to not follow that pattern outside of the jail, as you often referred to.

Therefore, you weren’t quiet and you would get what you wanted, even if it was quite dangerous. Some asshole, who you flirted with at a party had been spreading the rumor about how you’d open your legs for him at a party, he’d called you a slut at lunch. You’d managed to get a good slap before he pushed you and you fell on the floor, all of the sudden, Billy had almost cracked the guy's nose with about two punches. The purplish and red bruises on his knuckles were the first thing you noticed as he helped you stand up from the floor.

After that, Billy was always there. He’d still act annoyed about how loud, flirty and bratty you were and you would still call him out on why he would act like such a dick and be an asshole to everyone. Screaming at each other and putting the other in their place wasn’t new in your relationship, some people like Max would tell you that they didn’t understand why you would keep up with the other but he would be there to hold you when you were hurt and you would be there when he cried.

“y/n,” he stated as he reached for your hand but you pulled it away.

“You are an asshole,” you said, spinning around and jabbing a finger into his chest. “You think I cannot fuck whoever I want because you said so?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Billy seethed as he glared at you, towering over your frame.“Wait, are you seriously trying to fuck Patrick McKinney?”

“Why do you care!?” you screamed, angry hot tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you glared at him.

The truth was, you weren’t angry that Billy had pulled you out of the party and locked you in the bathroom. You weren’t angry that he had ruined any chances with Patrick. You were angry because he had done so, even after he’d faltered to say anything about your kiss a month prior.

After your mother passed away, your father opted for moving to Hawkins reasoning that raising a teenager your age was way too difficult in such a sin-filled state like California but the truth was that he couldn’t hold down a job and it was easier to go back to the place where he’d grown up, to his brother so he could get a job.

You hated it, the most important thing that you hated was that you would leave Billy behind. But surprisingly, your father’s departure and fake reasoning moved something in Neil’s heart and he decided to help you move out to Hawkins, where you would be staying with your side of the family the Wheelers. Neil stayed for a week and a couple of days after he left you received an angry call from Billy, Neil had decided to move to Hawkins too. Move everyone to Hawkins.

You felt guilty for a while, although Billy just stayed mad at you for approximately the moment he was told the news, and fifteen seconds after you welcomed him to the awfully small town with a big hug. Both of your arrival at Hawkins High had a ripple effect, your sun-kissed skin and attitudes made you guys instantly popular, not that you and Billy ever spent too much time dwelling on it, you just took its advantage. Which for you included being given flowers and multiple requests for dates all the time, while Billy focused on flirting and taking out girls. You couldn’t lie that it hurt you when a girl in your friend group would bring up that she and Billy had been dry-humping all night or that they finally had sex. It made you irrationally angry when it happened though, but you tried to forget about it. Instead, you focused on your conquests and dates, you only had sex with one other guy which was Steve Harrington, although you just ended up as friends.

That’s what you’d been talking about last week, the fact that you hadn’t had sex with just Steve while you were at Hawkins. The wine that you’d stolen from your uncle's place made you dizzy as you lay on the floor of your bed while Billy smiled at you as he sat next to you. The insecurity and its weight on your words made Billy laugh as he repeated that you were perfectly good and not damaged, that it was better to have sex only with the people you truly cared about. You’d smiled and offered that if that was true, you would’ve slept together by now.

It was an innocent comment, at least that’s what you thought. Billy didn’t see it like that though.

He leaned down before you could protest or realize, Billy had claimed your lips. He cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours, you didn’t move for a second thanks to the shock but then you immediately kissed him back, practically melting into him as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. His kisses were hot and feverishly, they were desperate as if he’d die if he didn’t continue to kiss you. You whimpered as you tangled your fingers into his hair, attempting to bring him closer.

And then you heard your dad entering the house.

Billy pulled away as you both snapped your heads towards the door, your father would kill you if he saw the wine or that you had Billy in your room while you were just on a flimsy shirt and some extremely short shorts. Billy got the cue and quickly hauled ass out of your room. After that, life seemed to get in the way but also Billy never brought it up, he never dared to stay anything and he continued to go out on dates.

You hated it.

And so you’d decided to let loose that night and find someone, anyone, that could erase Billy from your thoughts.

“You know I do!” Billy screamed as your back hit the door.

“Sure, you do,” you snarled at him, pushing him on his chest but he didn’t really move. “You kissed me and then you went on to fuck Tina,”

“What?” Bully asked in a husky tone.“I thought,” but his voice died down. Billy’s anger faltered for a second time and you wanted to smile because he couldn’t keep up with being angry at you for too long, he was already breaking.

Nonetheless, his features didn’t convey softness, he was confused.

“You and your amazing brain didn’t figure I would be hurt?” you sneered while glaring at him.

“You’re jealous?” Billy asked, moving closer to you, his breathing harsh and shallow as he glared at you, though it wasn’t his normal fire, it was a heated gaze of another sort.

“You were too!” you snapped, stepping even closer to him defiantly.

Both of you fell silent, breathings harsh and shallow as you glared at the other but all of a sudden Billy cupped your face with his hands again, you felt hot, your body prickling and goosebumps rising on your skin from the look Billy was giving you.

Then his eyes flickered down to your lips.

“What are you?”

“Shut up,” Billy growled as he grabbed your waist, arms looping around your body and pushing you against him.

That was all it took.

Billy lurched forward as he pinned you to the door with his body, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you hard. You reached up and draped your arms over his back, matching his fervent kisses as he shifted you with one arm, lifting you off the ground, perfectly settling his hips between your spread legs.

You were angry at yourself for a moment as you whimpered softly as Billy’s tongue slipped past your lips, tangling with yours as the intensity of the kiss grew. It was not fair that you’d waited this long for him. The kiss was all fire, it was feverishly, it was longing, it was desperate.

Your head spun suddenly as Billy grounded against you and your legs hooked around his waist to their own accord. You moaned loudly as you felt Billy’s bulge pushing persistently against you in those tight jeans, the friction feeling delicious against your clothed core.

Billy smirked and you could feel it as he pressed harder against you, suddenly pulling back to kiss your neck. He ravage it, sucking and biting your skin as you tried to move your hips as best as you could to find release. It was wild, it was pure heat and fire as your back arched sharply as he hit just the right spot while you cling to him. You can feel exactly how hard he is and how desperate he grounds against you.

“Come here,” Billy growled, pulling you from the door and settling you down in the sink before he quickly started to kiss his way down your body.

His lips worked down your throat and then along your chest, leaving bite marks on the skin that he could find, marking you as his. You moaned softly as he caressed your breast with one hand that had managed to make its way under the shirt you’d chosen and you’d never been happier of going without a bra to a party.

You leaned back on your palms as he reached your navel as your heartbeat rose in anticipation you glanced at Billy for a second while he looked up at you, his electric blue eyes tingling in anticipation as he fell to his knees as began to part your legs for him. A Cheshire cat smile grew instantly as his fingers run between your fold and you couldn’t back the whimper back.

“You’ve always wanted so fucking bad, don’t you?” Billy’s voice is low as he watches you from your position and you couldn’t help but whimper as he presses two fingers into you without a warning. “Come on, baby girl,” he growls as he suddenly bites your inner thigh, making you scream. “I want to hear you say it, I want to hear you say that you're mine,”

“Please, Billy, I'm yours,” you practically cry out. It’s pathetic honestly, the way your voice isn’t too determined and harsh as it always is but now you just can whine and your pussy clenches around his fingers just by the way he chuckled.

“You like that?” he asks while he raised an eyebrow. “You like to beg, don’t you?”

You cry out again when you feel his fingers curling inside of you. It sounds like music to his ears as he moves his fingers in and out of you in an enticing rhythm but you don’t want only his fingers inside of you, you want his mouth. Billy brushes the knuckle of his middle finger over your clit, just barely grazing it and you know he’s punishing you for not answering him.

“Please, please Billy,” you whimpered as you tried to move towards his face.

“Atta’ girl,”

Billy quickly moves his mouth between your legs, his fingers moving in and out of you, glistening from your excitement as he flickers his tongue on your clit. You whine, jutting his hips out toward him as he starts to suck your clit harshly which coaxed a desperate moan from your lips as you feel your orgasm coming. Your fingers raked through his golden curls, eyes closed as your head falls back into the mirror, moaning loudly as the knot on your stomach only got together. You’re pretty sure that your brain is short-circuiting the second that he replaces his fingers with his tongue, fucking you as soft gasps escape your lips.

“Don’t stop, don't stop,” you whimper, failing to keep your voice down but honestly you don’t care if anyone hears you as Billy devours your pussy like a mad that has been starved. You clench your thighs around his head and you curse silently as you listen to a muffle goddamn, the vibrations of his voice sending you over the edge.

Billy can’t even pretend that he isn’t pleased with himself by the way that he made you cum already and if this any other moment when you weren’t so desperate for him, you might’ve tried to wipe that cocky grin from his face but you don’t have it in yourself. Billy quickly brushes your hair off your face as he admires your comedown glow.

“I’ve always wanted to see that,” he murmurs as he kisses your lips softly, you taste yourself in his tongue, and you whimper. “You are fucking gorgeous,”

Since you feel like your tongue and your brain aren’t connected by the way that he’d just made you come, you simply grab the back of his neck and kiss him hard, moaning softly, hoping that he can get the memo, hoping that the way that you just forcibly slipped your tongue pass his lips was a clear enough Billy, just fuck me. He takes the hint when you’re finally fumbling with his belt and then pushing fast on the waistbands of his jeans. Thankfully, his lips never leave your mouth.

It’s almost a blur; you shove his pants down, freeing him from the confide of his jeans and boxers, before you take his aching cock and guide him between your legs, dragging his tip between your folds. Billy’s jaw clenches as he feels you, so wet, so perfect for him.

“All for you,” you whisper, kissing him lazily and you almost gasp at the way he suddenly grasps your hips. There is no doubt in your mind that you’re going to have bruises tomorrow but you don’t find yourself caring as he pushed slowly into you. You both gasp softly, lips inches apart until Billy’s finally buried fully into you. He’s big, he might be bigger than what you’d anticipated but soon the sting dies down.

Suddenly, your eyes meet.

Everything stood still. As if the music had turned down outside as if the people had stopped talking as if time had stopped. His electric blue eyes stared at you in such a warm and perfectly wonderful way that you wondered when did his blue eyes turn into the same as the ocean in California. How either of you had seen it, had seen that you were perfect for the other, that you wanted him since you could remember.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you mutter, nose brushing against his.

“I love you,” he replied, not an inch of doubt in his voice but you don’t get to answer as he starts thrusting into you roughly.

You grab at his shoulder desperately as his cock drives deeper into you. Your eyes flutter shut as you moan against his earlobe and Billy’s sure he’ll be replaying that sound in his mind forever. He bucks his hips forward, feeling your walls clench at the sudden move while your nails bite into his shoulders.

His face suddenly buried in the crook of your neck as he holds you in place while you squeak in pleasure and began to roll your hips to match his thrusts. It’s wild and frantic, and both of you are lost in the sensation of each other. Though Billy’s touching you tenderly, he isn’t just fucking you by the way he holds onto you. You, on the other hand, can only cling to him, fingers digging from his shoulder into his back as he finds a steady pace while your moans and soft breaths fill the room with his harsh grunts.

But suddenly, he pulls out of you and you whimper softly at the loss of warmth and the empty feeling before Billy pulls you down and flips you over, your hands find the edge of the sink before your eyes meet you, in the mirror. Pinks cheek, doe-eyed, cock drunk for sure, clothes in disarray and then there was Billy, holding you in place.

“Look, how fucking beautiful you are,” Billy grunts and you inhale sharply as he suddenly pushes into you without warning. Your knees half buckle and he has to slip his arm around your waist to keep you upright against him.

It’s honestly dirty, the sight of Billy with his pants down, driving into you as wet noises fill the room and you can see your arousal dripping from your legs. Nonetheless, you can’t see it too much, your eyes shut tight when you feel Billy hitting that spot and he brushes his thumb over your nipple under the shirt. He’s rocking back and forth, roughly and you cry out his name.

“Feels so good,” you whimpered as you open your eyes again and see his eyes raking over the reflected image before you.

Before you know it, Billy’s hand snakes to your throat and pulls you back against him. Your back completely flushed against his chest as he continues to drive deeper and deeper into you as if it were possible while he leaves open-mouthed kisses in your throat. You suddenly, grab Billy’s hand and make him press softly on the side of your throat. Billy catches it quickly, immediately curling his hand around your throat and pressing as he fucks into you.

It’s too much, your eyes roll to the back of your head, pleasure burning through you as you feel dizzy. You’re so close and Billy knows it, he feels how your pussy clench around his walls, he moves you again, tilting his hips and thrusting again. Hard. Perfect.

And you scream, you scream so fucking hard that there’s no way that you can talk after that and that screams it’s what sends you over the edge. Fucking ecstasy. A rush of fire burns through your body while Billy continues to fuck you through your orgasms.

“Good girl,” he grunts at the way that your walls are pulsing around him, milking him for every last drop of his. “y/n,” his breath burns into the side of your neck, your name perfect on his lips.

“Fuck, you're mine” he pants, hips stuttering as he pushes deeper into you, as deep as he can, and spills inside of you. He holds you tightly as you continue to tremble from the force of your orgasms and you seem like you are aware of nothing but where you’re touching him.

All you feel is Billy and all you want to feel is Billy.

It takes a long time for both of you to stop shaking, for the room to stop spinning but soon, Billy’s pushing out of you and flipping you around, holding you tight against his chest for a moment. There’s nowhere in the world where you’d rather be but there, in his arms, in the arms of the boy you’d always love.

“I love you,” he says again.

***

author’s note: please, as always, let me know if you liked this, your thoughts, etc. request are always open and any feedback is super appreciated!

thANK YOU!!

***

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demondwellersword · 1 year

Text

something you've never felt before.

gyutaro x f!reader

warnings: yandere, verbal abuse, gore

notes: self indulgent gyutaro fic? don’t mind if i do

Crying. You could always hear lots of crying in the Entertainment District. Crying of children, born into a world they didn’t belong. Crying of women, stuck in a world they could never escape. You had given up on crying ages ago, though your memories were fuzzy on just how long it had been.

“You disgusting little crybaby, always sniveling and clutching onto my kimono! It’s no wonder your mother left you behind, worthless creature that you are.”

You blinked away the burning feeling that prickled in the corners of your eyes, returning to your room to nurse the fresh bruises that were sure to appear on your thighs come morning. You had begged the master to make the customers treat you with more kindness, your body could only take so much, but they had done nothing more than ignore you outright and slam the door in your face.

The nights we’re getting harder, and you were getting more desperate. Every day was the same and yet somehow worse than the last, each with no escape. You prayed for a miracle, no matter how impossible it was. All you wanted was something—anything—to free you from this endless prison.

“If you’re lucky you’ll die in here, girl. Maybe one of these men will put you out of all of our misery, make room for an oiran with better looks than you. One they can actually stand to look at.”

You awoke to the faint sound of speaking just distant enough that you couldn’t make out anything that they were saying. One of the voices was female, high and whiny, while the other sounded quite like a door slowly creaking open. You quickly pulled on the clothes closest to your futon and snuck out the window, following the sound until you reached the sources.

“But brother, they’re all so mean to me!” The girl whined, tears slipping down her pale cheeks. “You have to make them stop! I don’t deserve it, I’m too pretty! All these ugly, disgusting men touching my body—“

“Shut up already, would you? I’m tired of cleaning up your messes all the time.“

“B-brother! Don’t leave me! Please, it’s not fair! Come back!” She squalled, stamping her feet in the ground below like a petulant child.

You quickly ducked out of sight when you heard the man’s footsteps begin to approach, your heart pounding in your chest as he neared the place where you hid. He was hunched over, spine visible through greyish skin drawn taut over thick muscles. His hair was messy and pulled into a knot atop his head, black fading into a bright green. He stopped just before your hiding place, yellow eyes snapping over to the place where you stood.

He sniffed the air like a wild animal, mouth stretching into a smile full of sharp teeth that sent a chill down your spine. He slowly turned to face you, finally giving you a good look at his appearance. Large black dots covered his face and body, which was both muscular and unnaturally skinny. Something about his appearance intrigued you, but fear was all too quick to replace it.

“Oh you’re a pretty girl….nice clean skin, nothing like mine….clean clothes, well-kept hair….” He stepped toward you, licking his lips. “You look so much nicer than me….it’s a shame I’ll have to kill you.”

“N-no please! Please don’t kill me!” You begged, looking down at the two large blood red sickles held in his hands.

“And why not?” He drawled, taking another step closer to you. “You’re so pretty….so lucky….I envy you….”

You swallowed thickly and shook your head. “You shouldn’t envy me. I’m nothing but a nuisance, the lowest of the low. It makes sense why all the men in the brothel abuse me and take advantage of me, I don’t deserve much better.”

A small part of you was playing up your misery in order to gain a bit of sympathy from the strange man in front of you, but most of you was telling the truth that had been hammered into your skull since you were a child. You doubted someone like this would have an ounce of compassion in his body, but you didn’t have any other choice. You couldn’t fight back, today’s customer had been more than enough proof of that.

The man’s face nearly imperceptibly softened, and he lowered the sickle in his hand. “But you…you are nothing like me. You aren’t a disgusting, good for nothing monster, people aren’t sickened by your face….”

For a brief instant when you looked into the eyes of the man in front of you the fear in your heart melted away and you felt a pang of sympathy replace it. While his appearance was undoubtedly much more unnerving than your own, you couldn’t deny the fact that your lives had followed a quite similar path. You took a deep breath to steady yourself, stomach churning as you took a hesitant step forward.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you began softly, knowing it probably wouldn’t do much to affect your situation, “and I do hope I could offer you enough kindness that you’d be able to say the same for me.”

Your dialogue was deliberate, but not in the same practiced way that it was with your customers. This came from somewhere more genuine, from the source of the pain that mirrored his. He was more like a frightened cat than a rabid dog now, still prepared to lash out but no longer on the same type of defensive. You wanted to reach a hand out to him but decided against it, knowing that it would probably lead to that same hand being severed at the wrist.

“Kindness, eh?” The man leaned forward and scoffed, taking deep crimson scratches into the skin of his neck. “That doesn’t exist. That’s just something people made up so they can keep getting things in return from the people they take from. No one ever showed me a single shred of kindness, so what makes you think I'd do it for you?"

Your breath hitched in your throat. He was right, in a way. No one owed you any kindness no matter how well you treated them; your life was constant proof of that fact. But there was something about him made you want the opposite to be true. You still feared him, knowing that in this moment one wrong move could get you killed, but there was also something just shy of pity that began to reside in your heart.

"You're right," you admitted, "but maybe that doesn't have to be true."

The man scowled at you. "I know better than to trust a word you say. You're just lying to me so I'll let you escape. Isn't that right?"

You shook your head and took a step back, eyeing the sickle that was now raised and ready to strike. Though it had started off that way the more time you spent with the man (however unwilling it may have been) the more your motivations began to shift. Something in you felt pulled to him, strange as that sounded. You wanted to reach out and touch him, to understand who he was and where he'd come from, who had wronged him and why he did the things he'd done. In some deep part of your soul you felt sickened by the thoughts that crept into your mind, but you tried to put the feeling to rest in favor of developing something more than being the prey to his predator.

"I..." you began, debating on whether or not to take another step back, "I meant it. Even if you don't think it's true."

And you did. Though your heart hadn't stopped racing for a single second, you genuinely did want to be the only person who had taken the time to be kind to this man, no matter what the cost.

The man gave you a look halfway between a scowl and a grimace, lowering the sickles as his yellowed eyes trailed down your body. There was no hunger in his eyes like before, only an emotion you couldn’t begin to place. It was as if he was studying you, looking for some specific reason that might allow you to live.

“This must be some kind of joke,” He finally said, using his fingers to scratch deep gashes into his neck. “Of course that’s what it is. I should’ve killed you when I had the chance. And to think I almost let you talk your way out of it! To think I almost believed you!”

He spat the words at you like venom, drawing his weapons for what you could only surmise would be the final time. You were desperate now, though not for self-preservation. You were desperate to prolong your conversation, even if it was only for a few minutes more. Whatever you had to do to convince him to come back, you would do. Your curiosity had long since defeated your fear, and the longer you looked into his eyes the more another emotion began to take hold.

“Please, sir, what will it take to prove that I’m telling the truth?” You begged, voluntarily beginning to close the distance between you. “All I want to do is spend a little more time with you. I just want to talk to you.”

“You can’t mean that….you’re just getting my hopes up…”

You swallowed your heart which now sat in your throat and wrapped your hand around his wrist. “Please. You seem like a very interesting man, and from what I’ve heard it doesn’t seem like many people have taken the time to listen to you. Just give me one day, and maybe I can change your mind.”

The corner of the man’s mouth twitched, and he stared at you for an agonizing moment. “Tomorrow night you’ll meet me here. If you run,” he raised a sickle to your throat, “I’ll kill you.”

As soon as night fell you crept out of your room and returned to the spot where you’d left the man, a girlishly giddy flutter to your heart while you waited for him to appear. You didn’t know why you were so attracted to him—as strange as it was to say it was the best descriptor you had for what you felt—but you couldn’t deny that you’d spent most of your day imagining how this very moment would play out.

“You came.” His voice had a slight softness to it, as if he’d been hoping that his assumptions of your absence had been wrong.

“I told you I would.”

You were dressed in your favorite kimono, a gift from one of the other oiran for your birthday. Your hands were down and folded against your body, and you’d put more effort into your normal work makeup especially for this occasion.

“What’s your name, anyway?” You asked.

It’s a start, at least. You thought to yourself. And maybe it'll lead to something more.

The man glanced to the side for an instant before directing his gaze back to you. “Gyutaro.”

“That’s a lovely name. I’m (Name).”

“Stop doing that,” Gyutaro commanded, scratching at his neck. “Stop making fun of me.”

“I meant it, Gyutaro. It really is a lovely name.”

"Yours is nice too. Much better than mine. It's...fitting."

You gave a pleased hum and smiled at Gyutaro. "Would you like to go for a walk? I do worry that if I'm too close to the house they'll find me and punish me."

"Punish....you?" Gyutaro cocked his head to the side. "But you....you're perfect. Why would they have a reason to hurt you?"

His words made something you'd never felt before swell up in your heart. While you still couldn't shake the twinge of fear that lingered from the previous night, it became less overwhelming in the face of this new feeling that had taken hold. In your entire time as an oiran you had never wished to see any of the men you met again, never once developed any feelings beyond the necessity of work and the repulsion at knowing just what types of people they were, always wishing for your time with them to be over just as soon as it had begun.

But with Gyutaro....you wanted to spend the whole night with him. You didn't mind if you were found out and punished for leaving in the morning; it was all worth it knowing that you'd been able to get to know him better.

"They don't like anyone leaving unless it's with a customer, especially not anyone of higher standing like myself. I'd love to leave, really leave, someday, but for now this is all I have."

Gyutaro stared at you, lightly scratching at the skin on his cheek. "You remind me of my sister....you're less annoying, but you're beautiful like her. You shouldn't be in a place like this, not while you're still human."

Still...human? You gave him a brief quizzical look but disregarded it, trying your best to push away the silly idea that he could be one of the man-eating demons that roamed the streets of the Entertainment District at night.

"There's no way for me to leave," You said, starting to walk toward the back of the building.

Gyutaro followed behind you silently, eventually stepping to walk beside you. He kept stealing glances at you, slowly moving to close the distance he'd created between you. You kept thinking about what he'd said, unable to let the idea that he wasn't human go.

"When you said 'still human', what did you mean by that?" You asked innocently, face burning when Gyutaro suddenly stopped and turned to look at you.

"You didn't know?" He chuckled, low and creaking. "You couldn't tell that I was a demon?"

The words turned your stomach. A demon. You'd thought they were just stories, gossip passed between brothels to justify why girls up and disappeared. But here you were standing next to one, unsure of whether or not it was right to feel the feelings you did about it. While the threat and prospect of him turning on you scared you, the revelation didn't do much to deter your desire to spend more time with Gyutaro.

If your ending wasn't good, then so be it. It would be fitting for the way your life had started. As long as you could enjoy what happened in the middle, you were content.

"I couldn't," you admitted, "but I don't mind that much either. Even if something bad happens, at least I'll have gotten to know you for a little while."

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

"Why me, huh?" Gyutaro stepped toward you. "All my life people have been reviled by the mere sight of me. And then you....you come along, telling me that you don't agree. You aren't making fun of me either, so I don't get it. Why?"

You swallowed down every ounce of fear and inhibition that clouded your heart, took a step forward, and pressed your lips into Gyutaro's.

His skin was rough when you slid your hands up to cup his cheeks, running a thumb over the large black marks scattered across them. You doubted he'd ever been kissed as a human, and certainly not as a demon, but you felt it was the right thing to do.

For a moment he stood stiff as a board, his whole body tensing at your touch, but soon he picked up on the movements of your lips and adjusted to match them. His kisses were messy and harsh, hands moving out to roughly grasp your hips as he stole the air from your lungs.

When you finally pulled away you were gasping for air, lips buzzing with pleasure. When you looked at him you felt utterly enraptured, ready to let him destroy you if it meant just one more kiss like the ones you'd just shared. It was intoxicating, this feeling of desire.

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"They won't ever hurt you again," Gyutaro said, clutching you against his body, "you're mine now, and I'll be sure that no one but me ever lays a hand on you. Got it?"

You nodded. The seriousness in his voice both turned your stomach and made your heart flutter, sending a buzz through your entire body. You were ready to let him protect you, to devote your life to his in return for whatever he could give you. You kissed him again, loving the feeling of his hands against your body and his lips against yours. Because now until forever you would be his, and you couldn't have wanted for anything more than that.

#kny #demon slayer #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro shabana #x reader #x reader fanfiction

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sweatervest-obsessed · 10 months

Text

In Your Dreams, Whatever They Be - Part 2

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (she/her)

WC: 11,789

TW: allusions to death, death, guns, knives, weaponry, kissing, making out, teen angst, stressful situations, demo bats? blood, crying, so much crying, nightmares, allusions to mature content, comas, really anything in Stranger Things is in here because I followed the last two episodes pretty closely.

A/N: Part 2 baby!!! I hope yall really like it. I had to cut some things out because I realized that if I wanted to sleep and be okay with this as my final draft, then things that the reader isn't a part of. doesn't really get told in this fic. (angsty, with some fluff at the end for your troubles of making it through the angst.)

Part One !

You had cried on and off for almost three hours. It wasn’t on purpose, truly, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Once you had managed to move enough, Steve helped you through the gate, before diving through on his own. The entire group was crowding around you trying to see if you were okay, but they just made it worse.

Max watched from the side. Eventually, she had enough and screamed at all of them to back off. She took your hand and brought you into what you assumed to be Max’s room, holding out a hand to stop Steve from following the both of you in there.

“I’ll come get you in a minute, Harrington.” She grumbled before shutting the door behind her.

Everyone tried to crowd around the door, attempting to listen in on what the two girls had to say to one another. No one felt comfortable leaving the only two people to have been cursed, alone, but it’s not like they had a choice.

The second the door was shut, Max was on you—arms wrapped snugly around your waist, face buried into your chest, tears quietly streaming out of her eyes. She had lost Billy, and then she had almost lost you. Your tears started up again just at the thought.

You eventually had made her sit down on the ground with you, your leg was bugging you and if you stood for much longer, you might have collapsed anyways.

“What did you see?” she whispered, after the two of you sat together, holding one another. “Did you see Billy?”

You nodded and bit your lip, letting out a shaky breath. “Yea. I watched it happen. Again. He made me watch as he killed him. ”

Max just closed her eyes and held onto you tighter. You kissed her head and rubbed her shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere Max. I’m right here, alive.”

She just shook her head, and after a moment, she peered up at you, eyes brimmed with tears. “They don’t…” She huffed. “They don’t get it. They don’t know.”

You knew her pain. You knew that Steve was going to ask you about it. You knew he was going to try and comfort you. And you knew he just wouldn’t be able to. “I know.”

You cracked a small, sardonic smile. “Well now we have another trauma in common. I’m sure your mother would love to have me back as your babysitter.”

Max let out a little laugh, which was heard through the door. Everyone eavesdropping relaxed a little bit, knowing you two were comforting one another, but they still felt uneasy knowing that your leg needed to be looked at, and Max shouldn’t be without her headphones for too long.

“You should yell at everyone for trying to listen in to our conversation.” You whispered, kissing her head one more time.

Max smiled again but shook her head. “I want another minute of quiet.” She whispered, holding you tighter than before. You ran your hand over her back, letting her relax for the first time in days, with no one staring at her every move. You started to hum a little bit of Running Up That Hill to her, causing her to smile.

After about seven and a half minutes of being kept out of the room you and Max were in, Steve was losing his mind again. He couldn’t see you and for all he knew the both of you were dead in the other room. Steve was also ignoring the amount of bloodloss that he had, choosing to focus more on the fact that you still being able to walk was a fucking miracle. If the bats had bitten off just about any more of your flesh, they would have hit vital nerves, causing permanent damage.

“Dude. You need to relax. She’s fine Steve. I know you’re all freaked out and whatever, but she’s with Max right now, and Max deserves this break.” Robin piped up, watching him wear a hole into the carpet.

“She needs to rest Robi–”

“We all need to rest Steve.” Nancy snapped before closing her eyes and exhaling. “Sorry. I’m sorry. But you panicking during the one moment when we actually can just breathe is going to make things worse.”

She got up, and walked to the front end of the trailer, near the kitchenette and couch.

Dustin and Lucas turned to Steve. “What’s her problem?”

“Mind your own business Dustin.” Eddie murmured, watching as Nancy watched Steve who was watching the door, who kept looking at Robin for reassurance while Robin was trying to keep an eye on the kids while also trying to keep Steve from freaking out over a closed door. Eddie had decided it was exhausting, and also walked towards the kitchen, trying to find some food to cook up for the gaggle of people in Max’s trailer.

Just as Steve was about to break down the door to Max’s bedroom, Max opened it, staring him down. “Come here Harrington.”

He scoffed at Max and leaned in when she motioned too. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him right up to her face. “Don’t make her talk about what she saw for the next hour Harrington or I will skin you alive. And don’t do anything gross on my bed either. Got it?”

Steve almost believed her. “Ye-Yeah Red. I got it, Geez.”

She nodded and let go of his shirt, stepping to the side. “You may enter.”

Steve looked at Max before walking into the room. Max closed the door behind him, allowing the two of you to have some much deserved privacy for the first time since you had danced together in his backyard.

You were sitting down on Max's bed, on top of the covers, and smiled at him.“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite Doctor.”

Steve didn’t even respond to you. He just walked right up to you, and pulled you into a hug. Somehow, after almost paralyzing your leg, vomiting in the Upside Down, and being possessed by Vecna, you were now comforting a second person; if it was anyone else, you would have minded. But this was Steve, your Steve. His head was buried into your neck as he let out a sob, and you immediately pulled him as tightly as you could against your body.

“Oh Stevie.” Mumbling into his hair, tears in your own eyes.

“Fuck. I l-lost you. You–you–you were floating and I–” another sound passed through his lips. You could feel his tears run down your neck. “I thought—”

“But you didn’t lose me.” You cut him off, not wanting to hear the rest of his thoughts.

Desperate to be closer to you, Steve pulled away slightly before coming back in and pressing his lips to yours. There was so much behind it, more than words could have ever described, and you kissed him back. The relief that flooded through his system, as you kissed back, as you pulled him impossibly closer with the vest. His hands were on your cheeks, trying to combine your body with his, intertwining the both of you for the rest of time. The need to feel every part of his body fueled you, as you deepened the kiss, biting his bottom lip, making a pretty sigh leave his pretty lips. Steve used one of his hands to snake around your back and push you into him.

It was intense.

You could feel yourself becoming dizzy from the lack of oxygen but you didn’t care. You wanted Steve’s hands on your body, you wanted to feel him on you, in you, around you. You needed to feel that he was as real just as badly as he needed to feel you.

He pulled away slightly, your lips chasing his, both chests heaving.

“Steve.” You silently whine, kissing him again, trying to get what you want.

He kissed you back, ready to lean you back and fuck you right here.

But as he placed his hands on your waist, and pulled you against him, lips on your neck, your jaw, your leg hit against the frame of Max’s bedside table and you immediately pulled away and swore profusely into Steve’s shoulder, effectively ruining the moment, and shattering the reality that everything was fine.

“Shit shit shit.” Steve pulled away, not fully sure what happened, but when he heard your muffled cries in his shoulder, he started to panic even more. “Baby what happened?”

You just tried to calm your breathing down, choking down the rest of the tears threatening to find their way out. “I-I hit my leg on something.”

Steve pulled away completely, and you let out a sound of resentment, along with some tears when he did. The loss of contact made everything ten times worse.

“I need to get you all bandaged up, pretty girl.” He whispered, placing his hand on your other, healthier, not torn apart by demon bats, thigh.

“It’s gonna fucking hurt Stevie. Can;t I just die from a blood infection instead?” You tried joking but it fell flat since the thought of you dying made him freeze up. “Sorry, bad timing, I’m sorry.”

“It’s, It’s okay.” He whispered, watching as your chest rose and fell, reminding himself that he just kissed you, he felt your breath, you were alive.

“Let's get this over with.” You muttered, grabbing one of the bottles off of Max’s night stand that Eddie had so kindly provided you with, taking a hefty swig of it before handing it to Steve.

______________________________________________________

You had fallen asleep from exhaustion about five minutes after Steve had finished fixing you up, which was probably for the best since Steve just laid with you, holding you in his arms, and eventually getting about an hour’s worth of rest that he also deserved.

But sleep was not a luxury you both could afford. Eventually Max was sent in, having drawn the short stick and now being forced to wake up the two worst people on the planet to wake up. She had tried whispering, and then tried speaking to you both, but Steve had just rolled over, managing to cover your ears in the process, subconsciously protecting you from the world of the awake.

Finally, she shook Steve, who sat right up, almost whacking Max in the process.

“What.” He grumbled, noticing how you groaned, stirring slightly at the lack of contact from Steve.

“We have to figure out a plan.” Max sent him the most apologetic look she could, because she didn’t want to wake either of you up.

“Come’ere.” He wrapped an arm around Max, giving her a quick hug. She was a bit shocked at first, but didn’t pull away, not ready to admit she liked the comfort.”

You had opened your eyes, seeing your two favorite people sharing a moment, and decided that it was your time to shine. “You trying to steal my girl Harringon.” You yawned out, stretching your arms in the process.

Max laughed slightly, while Steve sent you a faux glare.

“We’ll be ready in five Max, thank you.” You sent her a soft smile, eyeing her up and down quickly to make sure she was still okay, before the girl left the room, closing the door behind her.

“She has a lot of trust, believing that you won't just immediately fall back asleep.” Steve smirked as you closed your eyes again, head back on the pillow.

“I’ll be so ready in five minutes, just you wait.” You mumbled, already half asleep. Steve placed a soft kiss on your lips, and you hummed in response.

“Baby you have to get up. We have to talk about…”

Your eyes shot open, his words bringing back everything Vecna had shown you. It would have impressed Steve how fast your walls went up, in a matter of seconds, if it didn’t concern him so much.

“Okay.” You shepherd, sitting up on the bed. Steve had offered his hand, and gently helped you off the bed, very mindful of your leg. He helped you limp out of the bedroom, and onto the couch where everyone was waiting for you both.

“Five minutes on the dot.” Eddie raised his eyebrows, all of them watching you and Steve, very aware of the injuries you both were sustaining.

“I’m punctual Munson. Regardless of apocalypse scenarios.” You winked at him, as Steve took his place next to you on the couch, hand on your good thigh, not as interested in the harmless banter between you both.

“I’m sorry, before we begin, when the fuck did that happen?” Dustin interrupted you before you could even open your mouth, staring at Steve’s hand on your thigh. “Did you even ask if you could officially date our favorite babysitter Steve?”

Steve was actually slightly offended by that one. “I’m sorry Henderon, I don't remember asking you permission for my love life to continue, and second of all, I better be your favorite fucking babysitter after everything you’ve put me through.”

Everyone could sense the thinly veiled threat, not one hundred percent sure Steve was joking, but you just rolled your eyes. “About a year Henderson. Is that all?”

Dustin scrunched his eyes together, “He actually worked up the courage to a–”

It was your turn to interrupt Dustin. “No. I did. Any more questions or can we start the thing that made you wake me up.”

Dustin made a face before looking over at Steve, slightly proud of him.

“Let’s talk about it.” Nancy’s voice cut through the silence, looking at you.

“Yeah.” You let out a shaky sigh before closing your eyes, Steve squeezing your thigh. “He-uh, showed me things that haven't happened yet. The most awful things.”

You paused before continuing. “I saw a dark cloud spreading over Hawkins, downtown on fire, dead soldiers, and this giant creature with a gaping mouth, and this creature wasn't alone, there were so many monsters. An army. And they were coming into hawkins, into our neighborhoods, our homes, and then, he showed me my mom, holly, mike, and they, they were all…”

“–Okay but, he’s just trying to scare you, right, I mean, it’s not real.” Steve tried to interject, trying to make it better.

You shook your head. “Not yet. But there, there was something else. He showed me gates, four gates, spreading across hawkins, and these gates, they looked like the ones outside of Eddie's trailer, but they didn’t stop growing. This wasn't the Upside Down Hawkins, this was our Hawkins, our home.”

“Four chimes.” Max spoke up. “Vecna’s clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly.”

“I heard them too.” You nodded.

“He’s been telling us his plan this whole time.” Max looked over at Lucas, terrified.

“Four kills. Four gates. End of the world.” Lucas looked back at Max, equally scared.

“If that’s true, he’s only one kill away.” Dustin looked between you and Max, trying not to break.

“Oh Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ.” Eddie just placed his hands in his face.

“Try them again, try them again.” Nancy spoke up, looking over at Max, hoping to god the other half of their group would finally be by the phone.

Max tried the phone, waiting, hoping, but the busy signal beeped and Max hung up the phone.

“Anything?” Dustin asked, staring at the phone.

“No. Rang a few times and went to a busy signal.”

“Maybe you punched it in wrong–Try again.” Steve leaned forward, placing his hands near his mouth.

“I didn’t punch it in wrong.”

“Well, I don’t know.” Steve bickered back at Max.

“Dude, I think she knows how to use a phone.” Dustin rolled his eyes at Steve.

“I’m just saying she could’ve typed it wrong.”.

“Steve. Not helpful.” You hit his arm lightly, signaling him to cut it out.

Max tried the number again before hanging up after a couple of rings. “Same shit.”

“How is that possible?” Lucas just stared at the phone

“I told you, Joyce has this telemarketer job. Always on the phone. Mike wont stop whining about it..” Dustin sighed, starting to pace again.

“Okay yeah. But this phone’s been busy for, what, three days now? That’s not Joyce. No way, something’s wrong.” Max looked at you, trying to get some support.

“She’s right. It can’t be just coincidence, it can’t be.” And you gave it to her, agreeing.

“Whatever's happening in Lenora is connected to all of this. I’m sure of it.” Nancy nodded at both you and Max. “But Venca can’t hurt them, not if he’s dead.”

She looked over at you, and you ran a hair through your hair, sighing, prepping for the argument that you were about to start. “Nance is right. We have to go back in there, back to the Upside Down.”

“Woah, No, no, no, no, no.” Steve stood up between you and Nancy, looking between the both of you.

Eddie just kept repeating “Nope.” Over and over again.

“No no, let's think this through–” Steve tried to reason with the both of you.

“What is there to think through!” Nancy argued back at him.

Steve gestured to you. “We barely made it out of there in one piece.” Which caused a flicker of anger to pass across your face.

“Yeah because we weren’t prepared.” You fully stood up, crossing your arms at Steve.

“But this time, we will be. We’ll get weapons and protection.” Nancy huffed indignantly. “We’ll go through the gate, we’ll find his layer, and we’ll kill him.”

Steve didn’t know what was happening but he did not enjoy both you and Nancy teaming up against him at this moment. Eddie was just shaking his head over and over and over. “Or he’ll kill us.”

“The only reason Y/N survived is because he wanted her to. He’s not scared of us.” Steve shot back.

“And for good reason.” Robin finally spoke, standing up. “We were wrong about Vecna. Henry. One–sorry, what are we calling him now?” Her panic was taking over.

Both Dustin and Lucas said One, while Erica said Vecna, while you and Nancy said Henry, all at the same time, completely overwhelming Robin, and being so helpful too.

“Right. We’ve learned something new about Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One. He’s a number, like Eleven. Only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin–But my-my-my-my point is, he’s super powerful. He could turn us inside out with the snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.” She took a deep breath in.

“So then why fight fair?” Dustin piped up, “You’re right. He’s like Eleven, and that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven’s strengths. And weaknesses.”

Erica scoffed. “weaknesses? “

Dustin smiled slightly. “When El remote travels, she goes into this trance-like state. I would bet the same is true with Vecna.”

“That would explain what he was doing in that attic.” Lucas’s eyes got wide with recognition.

“Exactly!” Dustin nodded before looking back at Steve. “When he’s attacking his next victim, I’ll bet you he’s back in that attic, physical body defenseless.”

“Defenseless? Yeah?” Steve scoffed, jaw tight, gesturing to his neck. “What about the army of bats.” It came out a little harsher than intended but both he and his girlfriend were down about a pound of flesh each.

“True. We’ll have to find a way past them.” Dustin considered. “Distract them somehow.”

“And uh, how do we do that, exactly?” Eddie looked over at Dustin, going to stand up but sitting right back down since Dustin just barreled through.

“No idea.” Dustin shrugged, and Steve scoffed. “But once they’re gone, he doesn’t stand a chance. It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”

“That all sounds good in theory.” Robin looked over at Dustin. “But there is no pattern to Vecna’s killings. I mean at least not one that I can decipher. We don’t know when he’s going to attack next. We don’t know who’s he’s going to attack n–”

“Yeah. We do.” Max cut her off, looking at you. Everyone turned to look towards her. “I can still feel him. I’m still..marked. Cursed. I ditch Kate Bush, I draw his focus back to me.”

“Max–You can’t.” Lucas looked over at her. “He’ll kill you.”

“I survived before. I can survive again.” She closed her eyes. “I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic–and then you can…chop his head off. Stab him in the heart. Blow him up with some explosive Dustin cooks up. I honestly don’t care how you put this asshole in his grave. Just…whatever is it…whatever you do…try not to miss.”

You all just stood there, looking around at one another, but Steve just looked at Max. She had become his little sister, mostly due to you, but it didn’t matter since he cared for her so deeply, but when he looked back at you, you both could see the resolve of Max, tears in both your eyes.

______________________________________________________

“Check this out.” Eddie dropped a book on the table and pointed to an ad. “

The War Zone.” It was an image of a pioneer, surrounded by American flags and AR-15s, with name “War Zone” completely predicting the font and design of a certain film coming out on May 16th, 1986, you could predict one Steve Harrington absolutely falling in love with and wanting to be the two Romantic leads for Halloween. (but I digress).

“I’ve been there once.” Eddie continued, looking up at all of you. “It’s huge. They’ve got everything you need for, uh, well uh, killing things basically.”

“Do you think fake Rambo has enough guns there?” Robin scoffed. “Is that a grenade? I mean, how is any of this legal?”

“Well lucky for us, it is, so.” Eddie gave her his signature sardonic smile. “Thi-

This place is just far enough outside of Hawkins, as long as we steer clear of main roads, we oughta be able to avoid cops, and uh, angry hicks.”

“If we’re trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called The War Zone.”

Dustin nodded at her but Nancy spoke first. “Normally I’d agree, but we need the weapons. So, I think it’s worth the risk.”

“Me too.” You agreed.

“Yeah but is it worth the time?” Lucas looked over at Dustin, who nodded.

“It would take all day to bike there and back.”

“Who said anything about bikes Henderson?” Eddie smiled again.

“What, you’ve got some car we don’t know about?” Steve looked quickly at you before looking back at Eddie. Eddie stood up in his face, smiling cheekily.

“It’s not exactly a car Steve. And it’s not exactly mine, but uh, it’ll do.” You all looked at him, while he looked at Max. “Hey, Red, uh, you got a ski mask or a bandanna or something like that?”

Max went to shake her head before her eyebrows raised.

______________________________________________________

You could now add and then cross “stealing an RV” off of your proverbial bucket list. Eddie had snuck around the trailer park in Max’s old halloween mask, looking like a fucking idiot, and had managed to sneak all of you into this random couples trailer. Eddie had slid himself through the window, sneaking up to the front of the trailer and locking the door, effectively closing off the couple sitting outside from their home. Steve had hopped through next, helping everybody jump into the RV.

Eddie started pulling wires, and cutting them, getting ready to hotwire the RV to start. Steve had come up and peered over Eddie's Shoulder.

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” Steve furrowed his brows while Eddie kept focus.

“Well while the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire.” Steve was honestly in awe as Eddie continued to work his magic. “Now I swore to myself that I wouldn’t wind up like he did, but now, I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh, I’m really living up to the Munson name.” You were in the back making sure everyone got through the window and staying down, but watching the two of them. You slowly made your way up to the front, listening to their conversation, when Robin brushed past you.

Eddie was sparking the wires together, hoping to ignite the engine. Steve was actually quite impressed with Eddie, looking back at Robin when she came over his shoulder.

“Uh, Eddie.” Robin interrupted. “I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving.”

“Oh I’m just starting the sucker.” Eddie gave Steve the biggest smile. “Harrington’s got her, dontcha big boy.”

Robin rolled her eyes, as Steve gave him an extremely confused look, but was interrupted by the start of the engine. CCR’s Up Around the Bend started playing as the RV rumbled to life. You heard the couple outside screaming as they realized what was about to happen. They were banging on the door, while all three of the idiots up front just stared at them.

“MOVE.” You yelled at the statues before they all started to scramble. Eddie smiled at Steve before dashing into the back with Robin while Steve clambered into the driver’s seat just mumbling shit over and over again.

“It’s just a car.” He reassured himself before yelling at everyone in the back. “Everybody hang onto something.”

Everyone in the back was freaking out, grabbing pillows to brace for impact, grabbing onto the cushions or the couch, or even the ground.

“Dive Steve DRIVE.” Dustin let out a guttural scream as Steve hit the gas, pulling away from the site, and out of the trailer park. “Shit they look pissed.” Dustin looked over at Robin.

“I mean it’s not everyday you lose your house and your car in one fell swoop.”

“Hold on, HOLD ON!” Steve spun the wheel, barreling onto the road, screeching into the distance. ______________________________________________________

You were sitting in the middle of the RV with Dustin and Eddie, the two of them having a conversation while you eavesdropped on Nancy and Steve.

“How's it handle?” She asked, looking ahead at the road.

“Not half bad.” Steve smiled at her slightly. “Considering that this is a house.”

Nancy let out a small laugh, looking over at Steve slightly.

“Y-Yeah, it’s silly but I…I’ve actually, uh, well I’d always had this dream that like I’d have this really…really big family.” Nancy looked over at Steve as he continued. “I’m talking like a full brood of Harringtons. Like five, six kids.”

You had smiled slightly, picking out some remnants of dirt. You couldn’t help it. Sure, maybe you didn’t want a full brood of Harringtons, five or six was a bit excessive, but maybe just even the thought of kids sounded nice with Steve.

“Six?” Nancy laughed slightly.

“Yeah six little Nuggets. Three girls, three boys.” Now that made you wanna burst out laughing. Clearly he had been hanging around Robin too much, and you would absolutely be giving him shit for it later.

He laughed at himself for a second, eyes on the road. “And…And every summer, I’d figured all of us Harringtons, we would pack into something like this and just.” He looked into the rearview mirror, meeting your gaze and smiling softly, speaking right to you. “Just, see the country. You know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone. End up in some beachside town in California. Spend a week parked in the sand. Learn how to surf, or something.”

Nancy had kept her smile, but her eyes lost the shine they once carried. He was looking at you, not her. And it hurt because she knew it was over anyways, but some part of her always held Steve so closely–first love will do that to someone. She watched as he looked at you, adoringly.

Steve had looked back to the road, breaking eye contact after you had sent him a wink, slight blush on his cheeks. He seemed so confident in the idea. So confident in himself and in you, and Nancy couldn’t help but be happy for the both of you, regardless of how much it hurt to watch the door she thought might always be open become locked.

“That sounds nice.” She said softly, continuing to look at him. Steve looked over at her, before back in the mirror. “Yeah?”

You nodded at him, while Nancy responded, “Yeah..”

She quickly cleared her throat. “Well, um, except for the six-kid part.” And you could agree with her on that. “That sounds like a total nightmare.”

“If only I had some practice.” He jested, waving his hand in the direction of the hooligans, plus you, he was driving around.

Nancy nodded, conceding. “Alright, fair. That’s fair.” The two of them shared a small smile before settling into a soft silence. Lucas had also been watching the whole thing, and turned around, going to sit in the back with Max. You followed his figure back, before turning and looking towards Steve, who’s eyes had already been watching you periodically when he wasn’t looking at the road, causing you to feel a semblance of happiness as you tried to ignore all of the visions of death and destruction that rang through your head. ______________________________________________________

You felt so out of place in War Zone, but Steve managed to fit right in with his denim outfit, and lack of shoes. You all were assigned a couple of necessities to grab so you could be in and out as efficiently as possible. But as you walked into the store, it was filled to the brim.

“So much for avoiding angry hicks.” Robin looked at Nancy.

“Let’s be…fast.” Nancy agreed, before you all split up.

You had gone to the gun counter with Nancy, the both of you being the best with guns, which honestly made Steve question himself when he thought about it a little too hard. Nancy was holding one in her hand while you were still browsing, not wanting her to be alone in a store like this, her feeling the exact same way.

She looked up at the guy at the counter. “How much is this?”

The guy pulled out a box of bullets for her, “$120.99, but I’ll throw in 20 rounds of buckshot for ya.” You and Nancy nodded at each other, muttering something about needing more than that, when your body froze.

“Hey, can I see this pretty .357 please?”

“Nance…” You whispered, and the two of you slowly looked over at Jason Carver, before slowly turning away. But it didn’t matter.

Jason smirked over at the both of you, an air of disbelief in his voice as he held the magnum in his hand. “Nancy Wheeler and Y/N Y/L/N? Wouldn’t expect to find you two here.”

You slowly turned towards him, tight smiles on your lips. “Yeah well, it’s just, scary times .” Nancy answered for you both.

“I’m, I’m sorry about Chrissy.” You said, moving slightly closer to him, and Jason’s face flashed with pain, with hurt. He nodded, placing the gun down. “Want my advice?”

You and Nancy looked at each other before giving him a slight nod. As he slowly walked towards you, Nancy placed herself in front of you, not because you couldn’t protect yourself, because she knew you were about to do the same. .

“Shotguns are not good for much of anything past killing small birds.” He got real close to you both. “I mean, they got power, sure, but not much range. And that’s just gonna force you into close-range combat.”

You could feel Nancy tense up as he continued to get closer, and you were sure she felt you tense up too. His eyes flickered back and forth between the two of you, ultimately landing on Nancy, like a predator deciding which kill to make first. You took a step back, hand trained on the knife you had placed on the counter a moment earlier.

“Then someone can just grab the barrel like this.” His hand came up quickly, and pulled the barrel away from Nancy. “And redirect it.”

“Well you look nervous.” His hand tugging on the barrel.

“Well like I said. Scary times.”

“Now your brother. He, uh–He here with you by chance?”

Nancy’s face flashed something quickly across it. “Mike?”

Jason nodded, eyes grilling into her. “Mike.”

Nancy shook her head slightly, staring him down. “No.”

“I only ask because he’s…he’s in Hellfire isn’t he?”

You looked over and saw Erica, her eyes wide and panicked. You motioned with your hand, below your waist, for her to move away, quickly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jason scoffed. “What about his friends? They here with you?” He pulled the gun closer to him, struggling to gain some sort of control over Nancy.

“Would you let go.” she threatened slightly, trying not to cause a scene, while your hand had already curved around the knife, ready to cause that exact scene. “Let. Go.”

______________________________________________________

Steve eventually pulled the RV over into a field in the middle of nowhere. After your daring escape from The War Zone (insert patriotic sounds), you all needed silence, and a place to start bringing your plan into action.

Eddie and Dustin were hammering nails through trash can lids, while Max held down the shotgun so that Nancy could saw off the edge.

You were by the RV, decked out in a clean pair of jeans, a tank top, and a flannel, ready for battle. You had located a couple of walkmans in the RV and was rifling through the cassettes, hoping to find an extra for Max, just in case, and maybe even one for yourself. You looked up as Dustin and Eddie started wrestling around, smiling at the hint of normalcy, before turning to look at the Sinclairs, watching them trying to make spears.

You were right next to Steve and Robin as they were making Molotov cocktails. You had known Robin for a while, having been friends with her back in elementary school, but drifting apart when she went into band. By the time you kind of reconnected in high school, you weren’t super close again, until you both got drugged and slapped around by a couple of Russian hunks a million miles below the Starcourt Mall.

“It just doesn’t make any sense.” Steve held the funnel up for her to pour some gasoline into the bottle.

“What doesn't make sense.” You responded having shifted closer to them.

“That was Dan Shelter. He graduated two years ago.”

Robin was focusing spectacularly on not spilling any gas, but responded anyway. “So?”

“So he’s in college, which means he was visiting on Spring break.” You both looked at him, curious as to where he was going with this. “Fast Times was returned, like, I don’t know, a week ago? Right? Unless she’s got some horndog brother we don’t know about. Which is possible. Or she’s just like, really into Judge Reinhold–.”

“Steve.”

“Nah–What.”

“I don't care. And I don’t understand why you do either with everything that’s going on. Honestly, this feels like the perfect time for that little pull of the rug because in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low. ” Robin huffed out, trying to get him to listen.

“Yeah. I mean, I get you there, but I still have hope.” Steve sighed.

“You better have a fantastic explanation for that response, Harrington.” You looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

He blushed a little bit and shot you an apologetic look, but you just winked at him, knowing what he was referring to.

“Not everything has a happy-ending.” Robin sighed, looking between the two of you.

“Yeah, yeah, believe me, I know.” You grumbled at her, digging through a new bin of cassette.

“I’m not talking about my failed love life, I-I just, I have this terrible, gnawing feeling that it might not work out for us this time.” She put the gas down and looked between the two of you.

“You think we shouldn’t be doing this?” Steve picked up a new bottle.

“I think we're mad fools, the lot of us, but if we don't stop him, who will. We have to try, right? “

“To killing Vecna” Steve held out his bottle.

“Slash Henry.” Robin responded.

“Slash One.” You sighed, hearing them clink, and get back to work.

The Rv hummed beneath you, all of you silent. The radio was playing Journey’s “Separate Ways”, which kept the silence at bay. The tension between all of you was palpable, since you all knew how poorly this might end.

Steve looked over at you, before pulling up to the Creel House. He leaned over and kissed you softly, which made you squeeze his hand. You weren’t happy about this plan at all, but you’d rather part things on a positive note just in case… You, Max, Erica, and Lucas hopped out of the RV, and towards the house, while the other’s pulled away.

There had been an extensive fight before you all convened to go over the plan again.

“You’re fucking batshit if you think I’m letting you go back into the Upside Down.”

“Oh ha ha did you think of that pun yourself Steve? Since when do you dictate exactly what I do and don’t do?”

You could be so aggravating sometimes. Steve fucking adored how headstrong and independent you were. But boy did it bite him in the ass when you were doing the same thing he was doing to you.

“I’m not the only one who was being eaten alive Steve.” You gestured to his abdomen, trying not to let the memory cloud your judgment

“I-I know. Okay? I know. But if something were to happen to you down there, again?” Steve ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t get your screaming out of my head.” He whispered.

“And you think I can? Do you know what it was like the moment you were pulled under the water? The moment I entered the Upside Down and saw you get strangled but some fucking demonic bats?”

Steve pinched his brow, and paced around. The both of you had enough sense to move the conversation into the woods, far away enough so that your raised voices were barely heard, but your bodies still seen.

“Steve, I can’t just let you go down there without me again.”

“I know. I know. But I can still walk.” It came out a bit more harshly than he intended but his point was clear.

“Oh my bad. Next time I almost get paralyzed from trying to fucking save your life, I’ll think twice about it. Fucking asshole.” You turned and stormed into the woods, needing some air to try and clear your head. Clearly Steve did not get the message that you want to be alone, or he just ignored it and followed you.

“Hey. Hey! Y/N.” He caught your wrist, making you turn around and glare at him, pulling it out of his grasp.

“Leave me alone Steve.”

“No, listen, baby–”

“Don’t fucking baby me right now. You’re not telling me the whole truth, and I don’t want to listen to half-assed explanations. I’ve followed through on better communication so now it’s your turn.”

“If you died in front of me, I’d want to—....” He took a breath. “I don’t want you to go down there because if you got hurt again, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. And if you d-died? If Vecna or Henry or whatever the fuck his name is, is able to-to-to take you instead of Max’s bait? I canno–I will not let that happen. I don’t want you, either of you, to die tonight. But if you’re together, I feel better knowing that you two can be there for each other, and protect one another.”

“But that is not your call to make Steve.” Your eyes had softened, and so had your tone, but you weren’t about to completely give up. “It feels like you don’t consider how I feel about this. Because if you got hurt, or-or worse? Down there? You think I wouldn’t feel the exact same way.”

“I’m sor–”

“Let me finish Steve.”

He just closed his mouth, hands on hips.

“Do you know what it’s like to date someone who undervalues their life so much that they are first in line the second danger comes up?” Steve had never really thought about it before, but you just continued on. “How about dating someone who, at the drop of a hat, would exchange his life for any one of their friends if they were in danger. You are so fucking careless with your life Steve because all you do is care about other people, never yourself.” Tears were threatening to spill but you refused to cry again, all you had done for the past couple days was cry–cry at Vecna’s visions, cry in pain from your wound, cry at almost losing Steve.

“Can’t you be selfish for one fucking second, just for me?”

Steve walked over and wrapped you in a hug, and you immediately clung to him, tears streaming down your face. The two of you stayed like that for a minute, before Steve slowly started to sway you both back and forth.

“What are you doing Steve?” You gumbled and he brought one of his hands up to your cheeks.

“How does it go? Stars shining right above you…Night breezes like to whisper, I love you.”

You shook your head, laughing slightly, before resting your forehead on his. “I’d say it’s close enough, but Vecna might have some choice words.”

“Knowing you are with Max, and not in the Upside Down fighting those stupid fucking bats, or Vecna–Knowing that I’m putting Rob, and Nance, and Eddie and D-Dustin in potentially a lot more danger, by asking you this, is one of the most selfish things I could ever ask from you.” He whispered, he opened his eyes and stared into yours. “Please.”

How the fuck were you supposed to not concede to that. But you knew he was telling you the whole truth, all of it. You kissed him softly, letting yourself get one more, selfishly good, memory into your bones.

So when the RV drove off, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, thinking about the way his lips fit over yours, and the way that through some misfortunate aligning of the stars, you might never be able to kiss him again. But you weren’t going to let that take over your mind right now. You had more important things.

The four of you stood, staring at the Creel House, each with a lantern in hand, before walking up, and through the door.

The sun had gone down, and the house was probably ten degrees cooler than the outside air, which was saying something considering it was fucking freezing outside. You all had headed inside, taking off their shoes to try and make as little noise possible. In fact, you couldn’t hear each other walking around, but you always knew where Max was because of the soft vocals of Kate Bush. You had stayed on the first floor, with Erica, wandering around, hoping to get one of your friends on the other side to make your lights flicker, so you knew it was go time. Lucas was weaving through the second floor, looking around for anything really.

But when Erica waved her hand over at you, when her lantern grew excessively bright, you stayed with the lantern, while she had run up the stairs to get the other two.

As Max got closer, her lantern grew brighter, confirming what everyone was suspecting. Erica quickly wrote out Phase One?, and held it out to you to confirm that it was time. You looked at Lucas and Max before nodding at Erica.

She ran out the door, and towards the remains of a playground, climbing up into what once was a rocket’s shell.

But what you all failed to miss was the man walking his dog, that saw the glowing coming from the Creel House, and the scared child, running for her life.

Back in the house, Max and Lucas were sitting on the second floor, next to the glowing lantern, her music thrumming faintly.

You were across the hall, in what was probably the Creel’s library, searching through books, listening to your own music. Since you had found four more walkmans, and three of them worked, everyone at the Creel House, including Erica, was locked and loaded, fresh batteries and all, with either their favorite song, or one they could consider a favorite. It was your precaution against one of them breaking, or if Vecna had decided to pick you instead of Max.

As your fingers ghosted over the books, your head started to hurt again, causing you to immediately place your headphones on, so grateful for the fact that the trailer you stole must have had a hippie daughter with the same taste in music that you did. The soft lull of the guitar started to play as you tried to find a book to steal while you waited. You almost bumped into a chair, but in doing so found one of the mother’s picture books. You dusted the cover off slightly, smiling when you realized it was their wedding album. You slowly turned through the pages, admiring the long train, and the even longer veil. But they looked so happy, so warm. You almost, almost, started to let your mind wander when Lucas came into the room, alerting you silently that Phase Two was starting. You placed the album down, pushed off your headphones, and followed him to the stairs, where Max was putting on her shoes. You all stood, staring at the thrumming lantern, before Max quickly turned to look at Lucas, a moment of fear and doubt crossing her face. But Lucas nodded at her, putting on a brave face for the both of you.

She took a couple of breaths, before taking off her head phones, and turning off Kate Bush. The house was completely, and utterly silent. Max started yelling.

“Hey!”

Nothing.

“Asshole!”

More silence.

“I’m here. No more music. No more games.”

Max looked over at you panicking because it wasn’t working.

“Do you hear me??”

You just stared at the light.

“What are you waiting for, huh? Come on. Do you want me or not?”

Just then, the lantern started to buzz, and fade. Max looked panicked before her lantern started to buzz.

Vecna was moving.

You grabbed the lantern where Vecna was, and then moved towards Max, all of you slowly moving up the stairs, and following him to the attic. Once you had all made it near the altar, the light just stood still.

“What are you waiting for, asshole? Hmm? I’m right here. I’m right here!”

You moved closer to Max, putting your hands on hers.

“I know you can hear me.” Max continued. “I know you can read my thoughts. Even the worst ones. Maybe mostly the worst ones.”

Max took off her headphones and placed the walkman on the box next to her. You immediately pulled yours off, and swapped the tapes, discarding your tape on the box next to Max’s walkman, ready to place the music on her ears the second she started to float.

“I thought about what you said.” She whispered. “About how I wanted my brother to die.

I thought that you were just trying to upset me, to anger me, but you weren't, were you.. You were just telling the truth. Billy he, he made my life a living hell. Every chance he got ... .So sometimes, when I would lie in bed at night, hope, pray, I would pray that something would happen to him. Something awful. I knew that he drove too fast, so I would imagine him crashing, dying in that stupid car….I just–I wanted him out of my life, forever. I wanted him to disappear. The day that he died, I think that’s why I just stood there, watched. Not because IO was scared, weak, but because I didn’t know if he deserved to be saved. And I've tried to forgive myself. I’ve tried. But. I can’t. I can’t. So now. Now when…I lie in bed at night. I pray that something will happen to me. That something terrible will happen to me. So that’s why I’m here. Because, I just want you to take me away, and I want you. To make me disappear.”

“Is that all true? You wanted Billy to die.” You asked her, chest heaving slightly.

“Why are you talking?” Max looked up at you. “You ever have thoughts like that about me?”

“What?” You took a step back. “Max, how could you ask me that?”

“Normal people don’t fantasize about killing people, Y/N.” Lucas turned to look at the both of you. “You realize that right?”

“Lucas, stop.” You took another step backwards.

“I thought she was getting better, but she’s not, is she? You lied to me about her.” Lucas took a step towards you, and you took a step away.

“You’re sick!”

“Lucas, you don’t mean that.” Your voice wavered.

“Maybe it’s good he takes her. Maybe it’s for the best. She was willing to let someone she claimed to be her little sister die in front of her.”

“Max, please.” Your eyes started to water, as you tried to keep moving back.

“In fact, I’m glad it’s going to be you and not her.” He snapped his neck towards you, glaring.

“You will be the chosen one. The fourth. The final Sacrifice.” Max’s voice became more and more distorted. “It was always you, Y/N. I’ve always wanted you. Because it’s going to be you, that breaks the world.”

Max was desperately waving her hand in front of your face, screaming your name–this was not part of the plan. It was supposed to be her, not you. She couldn’t lose someone else.

“Y/N? Y/N? Can you hear me? Please.” Lucas was calling out to you, searching your face for any sign or acknowledgement, but you just stood there, still, eye’s blank.

“Y/N, where are you going? Don’t be scared.”

You kept backing up, chest heaving. “Stay away from me.”

“Y/N. I thought you said you were ready.” Max was cornering you in. “Ready to Disappear”

“I Said STAY AWAY.” You grabbed one of the jars next to you and based Lucas on the head, and ran past him.

Lucas had run downstairs to signal to Erica that you were possessed, but all he could do was just signal that someone was being possessed by Vecna. Regardless, Phase Three was about to commence.

You had run down the stairs of the Creel house, and opened the front door, only to be met with it being completely boarded up.

“Where are you going, Y/N.” Vecna appeared at the top of the stairs., causing all of the lights in the house to flicker. You bolted into the next room , trying to escape the inevitable. You pulled open another door, only to be met by more wood. “Fuck fuck fuck.” You muttered, trying to pull the boards off of the frame. When that didn;t work, you ran to another door, and then another after that, determined to not give up. You opened another door, which had another door behind it. It was the locker room door at the pool. Billy slammed on the door, screaming at you. “You bitch, let me out of here.” He kept pounding on the door. “OPEN. THE. DOOR.”

You stared at it, terrified, before turning and running the other way, watching the doorway you entered from was covered in boards. You heard Billy shatter the glass, screaming at you, making you run as fast as your leg would let you, ignoring the shot of pain every time you used that leg. You ran straight into another boarded up door frame, turning and facing Billy as he slammed against the door, over and over again, screaming about how he was going to kill you.

You closed your eyes, trying to block out Billy’s screams. Max, on the RV, had told Lucas that he only hides in the dark places, the bad memories, so you tried, so hard, to find your happiest memory. Billy’s attempts were becoming more and more successful, as you pictured your moments. It flickered through summers when you were younger, lips sweet and fingers sticky. You felt the wind in your hair when you were in middle school, going to the drive in with your parents and Robin. You saw Steve. His smile. That stupid, gorgeous head of hair. His hands on your waist. Lips on your neck. Flickers of Steve’s patio crept into your mind. Billy was screaming louder. His attempts were getting better. Steve’s eyes the first time you told him you loved him. His hands on your back, in your hair. You watched as you danced with him, singing to him. He held you so close, looked at you with so much love. You kissed him. You felt his lips on yours. You heard Billy break through the door.

But when your eyes shot open, you were in Steve’s backyard, pool empty, patio door open, but no Steve. It was silent. There were no birds in the background, no wind through the trees, just the sound of your breath. “Holy shit…it worked.” You smiled a bit, looking around in disbelief.

You opened one of the bins on the patio that Mrs. Harrington had insisted it was practical, and grabbed one of the towels, leaning it across the back of the lounge chair, and sitting on it. Humming to yourself, keeping your hopes up.

But as soon as you let your guard down, the umbrella covering two of the chairs started to drip blood. At first it was just one or two drops, but it suddenly became more and more, until the ground was covered in blood, and you were standing with your back to the house.

The radio the Harrington’s kept on in the kitchen switched on.

“But in your dreams whatever they be…” Ella Fitzgerald’s voice lilted throughout the yard, filling up the space. You slowly walked over to the roos, watching all around you, paranoid. You looked behind you, as watched as the rose bushes started to wilt and down, dropping decrepit flowers around the base of it. The grass was turning into a nasty shade of yellow, dying slowly.

“No No no.” You whispered, watching as the paint started to peel off of the porch, off of the siding of the house.

Louie Armstrong’s voice continued the song, haunting your mind as everything around you started to die.

You watched as ash started to fill the air, floating by you just like it did in the Upside Down. Red thunder boomed in the distance, clouds slowly appearing over your memory. You watched the red lighting strike over and over again.

Max and Lucas kept peering out, looking for Erica.

“Why is this taking so long?” Lucas muttered, flashing the flashlight again.

Just then, Lucas and Max heard the front door slam shut, the two of them looking at each other, eyes wide.

“Shit.” Max whispered as Jason Fucking Carver walked into the attic, eyes wide at your form, just sitting on the ground.

“Jason?” Lucas called out. “You can’t be here right now man.”

“The hell have you done?”

“Jason. You need to leave.” Max took a step forward.

“Is this what you did to Chrissy?” He knelt down next to your form.

“Just listen to us Jason–”

“Hey. Can you hear me?” He got closer to you, eyes wide as you rocked back and forth, eyes moving frantically underneath your eyelids.

“Jason, you need to go.” They both tried to get him to listen.

“Hey man. Don’t touch her. I’m not messing around.”

Lucas walked forward, “Please, Please just leav–”

“Hey hey Hey HEY.” Jason stood up, pointing a gun between Max and Lucas. “Back up. Bakc. Up. Both of you. Not another step.”

“W-w-we don’t, we don’t–dont have to do this.” Lucas whispered. “We don’t have to do this man.”

“I hope you’re right.” Jason looked at you and then back at the two kids. “Is there anyone else in the house?”

“No. No.” Max answered for them both.

“Put down the flashlight Sinclair. And turn around.” Jason started waving the gun around slightly as Lucas slowly turned around placing the flashlight on the floor. “Empty your pockets.”

“We don’t ha–”

“Empty. You. Pockets.” Jason sneered at both of them.

Lucas and Max both pulled out the insides of their pockets. Max had a few bits of crumpled paper from when she got nervous, and Lucas had nothing.

“Now this is what’s gonna happen.” Jason quickly glanced over his shoulder. “I’m gonna back away to the top of the stairs there. Then I’ll watch as you wake her up from whatever the hell this is.”

Lucas and Max looked at one another. “We can’t.” Max pleaded with Jason.

“Jason, if we wake her too soon, we all die.”

“No.” He whispered. “You don’t wake her up right now Sinclair, You both die.” He turned off the safety, hands still shaking.

Stars shining bright above you. Night Breezes seem to whisper I love you.

You had slammed the patio door shut, and knocked the umbrella into the pool. You had opened the shed and pulled out a couple of the old clubs Mr. Harrington had royally fucked up, ready to use your All-Star Skills again.

You looked over at the woods, and right where the gate used to be, was the door to the Creel House. Your grip tightened on the club.

“You can’t hide from me Y/N.”

You closed your eyes and pictured Max–braiding her hair, taking her and El shopping, painting their nails.

“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”

You saw flashes of nights with Nancy and Robin, girls nights with booze and magazines and drunken secrets. You saw hanging out with Jonathan, enjoying the silence of a park, reading together. Flashes of nights where Steve let you all pile into his house, games, movies, safety, happiness.

“You think I don’t see everything?”

Suddenly your mind was filled with Eddie, being chased by bats, leading them away from the camper, Dustin screaming in the distance.

“You thought you could trick me.”

The gun being pointed at Lucas and Max, Jason screaming at the both of them.

“You thought your friends could stop me.”

Steve, Nancy, and Robin attacking the vines in the house, but slowly being overcome– choked by vines, squeezing them tighter and tighter. Their screams fill your ears.

“I see them.”

Flashes of demogorgons attacking Dustin.

“I see your friends.”

Jason yelling at Max and Lucas. Erica being tackled.

“Just as clearly.”

Steve being shoved to the wall, the vines choking him, taking his breath away.

“As I.”

Dustin’s screams for Eddie.

“See you.”

Flashes of the bats biting your leg, pain shooting through it.

“I can feel them.”

Robin slowly loses her breath, frantically searching for Steve and Nancy to save her.

“I can feel them.”

Nancy’s mouth being covered by the vines, her screams being muffled.

“I can feel them dying.”

Steve screams, gasping for air, but it’s not coming. The vines pull tighter and tighter as you watch him suffocate to death.

Your eyes fly open as the first chime of the clock strikes, chest heaving.

“It’s time, Y/N.”

You back away slightly and look around, seeing the death, the gray, the decay. Ella Fitzgerald still singing away in the background, but her voice was distorted, as if it was a different memory.

“It’s time Y/N.”

You turned around right as Vecna lifted his hand, throwing you against the wall of the house, as you cried out in pain, as he slowly stalked towards you.

“You are brave, Y/N.”

You were panting, tears streaming down your face.

“Much braver than Billy.”

You tensed up, glaring at Vecna.

“But in the end, you are weak, and fragile, just like him.”

You were struggling against him with everything you had left.

“Like all the rest of them. And you will break.”

Vecna reached his claw up and over your face, but right as he went to dig his claws into your skin, he was thrown across the patio, and you collapsed on the floor. As you looked up, you could see her–El. She slowly turned him so he was floating, facing her.

“You,” he growled at her.

But El only gave him a small smirk with a “Hi.” before launching him across the room.

You started to stand up, with El running over to you and hugging you tightly. “Are you okay?”

“Huh.” You stood there, not believing your eyes.

“Are you okay?” She asked again, pulling away slightly.

“Y-Yeah El, I’m okay.” You pinched her cheek a bit, poked her shoulders. “Are you-Are you real?”

El took your hand into hers. “I’m real.”

“How.” You were starting to breathe at a regular rate, still not quite believing your eyes.

“I piggybacked from a pizza dough freezer.”

“What?”

“I–” She was cut off by the sound of wood creaking, of Vecna rising. He stood up, glaring at El and cracking his neck.

“Stay back.” El warned.

They stood across from one another, glaring.

“If you touch her again.” El snarled. “I will kill you, again.”

“Is that what you did?” He hissed back. “Did you kill me? I am so glad you are here, Eleven. This is going to be beautiful. So. Beautiful. And it’s all thanks to you.” ______________________________________________________

Your eyes fluttered open as Vecna approached you.

“Don’t be afraid.”

You were sobbing, struggling against the vines.

“Try and stay very still.”

His claw lifted up over your face.

“It will all be over soon.”

El screamed your name, struggling against the vines,

Slowly, your body floated up to the sky, Jason had stopped punching Lucas and scrambled away. Max was screaming your name, trying to find where you had carelessly thrown your tape. Your body convulsed, eyes and palms towards the sky. She found it on the altar and tried to place it in the walkman, hands shaking.

Your body convulsed. Max turned the volume all the way up and unplugged the headphones, trying desperately to get you to hear the song.

Lucas caught a glimpse of your body and started to punch Jason repeatedly, blow after blow, causing him to collapse on the floor.

Just he stuck his claws into your skull, you heard El screaming. You heard the soft lull of the guitar, screaming as you tried to kick Vecna away. And then it was black.

Your body fell to the floor, landing next to Max who frantically scrambled over to you, holding your body. You gasped, breathing in the air of the Creel house.

“Y/N! It’s me. I’ve got you.”

Erica ran up the stairs, screaming your names.

“We need a doctor,” Lucas was sobbing, trying to get you to focus on something. “Call an ambulance, hurry, call an ambulance.”

Max was rocking you back and forth, trying to calm you down, but sobbing nonetheless.

“M-Max?” You looked up at her, touching her face. You felt like your whole body was on fire, as if the vines had left welts in their place. You leg was numb from all the pain, but you hadn’t realized that one of your wrists was shattered, and so was one of your ankles,

“I-I’m okay.” You hiccuped, trying not to cry in front of the two teens holding you. Even when you were potentially dying in front of them, all you truly cared about was protecting them. Max just sobbed into your hair, holding you tightly against her chest.

Your eyes were fluttering closed. “No no no, Y/N, stay with me. Please.” Lucas started pleading with you, alerting Max that you were starting to drift away.

“I-I don’t…I don’t wanna go.” You started crying, not being able to stay awake fully.

“No please, I got you.” Max was begging you. She kept trying to get you to keep your eyes open, while Lucas did the same.

“Erica Help!” He screamed out, watching as your body started to lose tension, becoming less and less alive in Max’s arms.

“Y/n, Y/n? No no no no No! Stay with me. Come on, please. Please stay with me, Please.”

And that was all you heard as you drifted away, unable to hear them pleading anymore, enjoying the silence, the rest, the warmth of closing your eyes, and not being afraid. ______________________________________________________

One week later, you slowly blinked your eyes open, not used to the bright lights, a deep contrast to the sleep you’ve been in. You heard someone off in the corner, breathing, you knew they were there. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t.

You tried to move your hand next, squeezing it, not realizing you were squeezing somebody’s hand. You vaguely heard your name before trying again. You heard yells and commotion above you, but were put back to sleep when the doctors told Steve they had to take the Catheter out of your mouth so you would be able to eat and speak properly.

Steve didn’t like the idea of you going back to sleep, but he couldn’t argue with the doctors, so he let them, sitting back down by your side, watching, waiting for you to hopefully wake up in the hour they had promised. So when you squeezed his hand, eyes already looking at him, Steve almost broke down right then and there.

“Oh thank god.” He whispered, kissing your hand, ready to climb onto the bed and never let you go.

“Hey champ.” You mumbled, yawning and rolling your neck slightly.

Steve’s jaw dropped, and if you hadn’t been in a coma for a week, he would have actually been pissed. “I’ll be sure to include that the first thing you said, after waking up, ws Hey Champ.”

You shrugged, yawning again, but squeezing his hand. “Felt appropriate since you look like shit.”

“I’ll have to find a mirror.”

“You take that back right now Steve Harrington.” You mumbled, going to cross your arms but flinching. “What…” You looked down at your other arm, noticing the casted tightly wrapped around it.

“O-Oh.” you whispered, everything flooding back to you in an instant. Tears welling in your eyes. “Oh. Oh my god.”

The monitor started to beep quicker, as your whole body experienced the pain from before all over again, you were sobbing, shaking your head, not understanding why you could move your leg and arm. It was overwhelming.

Steve had quickly gotten up and sat on the gurney, pulling you into his arms, being extremely mindful of your injuries.

“You’re okay baby, everything is okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” He whispered into your hair, cradling you, just grateful for the contact.

A nurse had come to check in on you since your heart rate had almost doubled, but she saw it slowly declining again as Steve held you, deciding to leave the both of you alone.

“W-What happened is everyone…”

Steve pulled you in tighter. “It’s a lot, sweetheart. A lot has happened. And I’ll tell you all about it, I swear on my life, but first, you need to just relax okay?”

You nodded, pulling away slightly, tears still slowly tracking down your cheeks. “Is it rude of me to use the fact that I almost died to ask you to kiss me.”

Steve tensed up at your wording, and you examined his face. “How long.” you asked softly, watching as his eyelashes fluttered closed. He had new bruises around his neck, and some around the edge of his face.

“A whole…” He exhaled slowly. “A whole minute.”

You kissed his cheek, letting your lips linger. “But that wasn;t your fault.”

Steve hated that you could see right through him , know his guilt, know his pain, like you were watching it on a billboard.

“I should have just listened t–”

“No. None of that. We’re not playing the blame game. I am sitting right here. I am okay. That is more than I could have asked for coming out of that. I watched as he–you were…”

Steve’s eyes widened, realizing that he didn’t know what Vecna had shown you.

“I’m okay.” He whispered back. You let your eyes rake over his body, doing your own inventory of things to check up on.

He was wearing your favorite pair of his jeans, with a blue crewneck that had a couple of buttons up at the top that were unbuttoned. “I love when you wear this outfit Steve. It brings out your eyes.”

He looked at you. “And there they are,” you said softly, wiping away a tear off of his cheek.

“I should be comforting you.” He laughed, trying to turn away from you.

“And you will be. I can guarantee it. But I just want to make sure you’re okay before I completely devolve for the next couple of hours.” You were only half joking, and Steve knew that too.

You leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut, and your lips touched his. He placed an arm around you, as if you were going to shatter at any more contact. He sighed, feeling your breath as you kissed.

Eventually, you pulled away and rested your forehead on his. “So give it to me straight Doc.” You whispered. “How bad is it out there.”

Steve almost let out a giggle. “It’s so bad. Like comically, super villain bad.”

“Is everyone okay?”

Steve shook his head. “Can we just sit here? I just want to have you for myself for a while.” he whispered. “I wanna be selfish.”

You nodded, kissing his cheek one more time before resting your head in the crook of his neck, hugging him tightly, and promising to not let go for a long, long time.

As he held you, you started to sing quietly, enjoying the feeling of your arms in his. Your happiest memory, recreating it whenever you can. His warmth permeating your skin, his lips on your forehead, the pretty sigh that left his lips when you started singing.

“But in your dreams, whatever they be, Dream a Little Dream of Me.”

#x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington #steve stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington x reader series

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wisteria-lodge · 2 months

Text

snake primary + neutral snake secondary

Hello. I decided to write this according to the list you gave. I have a huge struggle with my primary. I guess it is burned, but I don’t know what it is, or I don’t want to see it because that hurts my ego if it sounds completely fake or in some way empty, or I just don’t vibe with it. Which I understand is an issue in itself.

An interesting issue. You don’t want a primary assigned to you because you’re worried it’ll sound fake? I’ll keep an eye on that.

For my secondary I guess it is just straight up a lion, mostly being off or burned, burned badger or bird. I definitely use pre-made personas in social or stressful situations, but I prepare so little that I could be anyone.

This sounds like Burnt Bird secondary “I do the Bird secondary thing, but not very well.” Or possibly a Bird secondary model that you wish you didn’t have to use.

Before I have to tell you even if I don’t have clinical depression or a diagnosis, I don’t feel happy, and it probably shows. I am someone who cries every time they see Everything Everywhere All At Once, which at this point probably tells a lot about a person.

… it tells me that you’re very probably neurodivergent. Very possibly ADHD, but I don’t like to diagnose in these things. (Not actually possible anyway.)

Also, heads up for my English, it is nowhere near perfect or fluent, so there might be some annoying mistakes, even though I know you don’t point it out to people. I ran it through a grammar check, but I have little doubt I missed something.

Sometimes I wish I’d care more about other people, about strangers, but I don’t care much naturally, and it becomes even more pronounced when I am stressed or having to spend a lot of my energy outside myself. Then, that gaze towards outside shuts down, and I stop focusing and giving attention to other people.

You’re not naturally a Badger, taking meaning and energy from the community. Snake is absolutely possible, especially with the way Snakes will focus very intensely on their own bodies when they haven’t got a lot of extra energy to spare. Like, sure you’d like to do more, and doing more makes you feel like a good person, but that’s extra.

A co-worker could be talking about their accident and what happened to their family, and I would stare blindly and think to myself they are trying to get sympathy and I would not budge at this point. While more normally I would give them it, even if I didn’t feel sorry for them.

You might also just be low empathy, which is… just kind of a neutral thing. I’m low empathy. A lot of people actually find it comforting that they can be upset around me without getting doubly stressed that they’re making my day worse.

After all, some emotional work needs to be put into maintaining relationships and keeping it alive.

True. And the way you just kind of put that out there as a kind of ‘Rule to Live By’ is actually making me think Bird primary is possible... or a Bird primary model over a burnt primary?

As a kid I was timid, afraid to explore town, thinking someone will come and say I can’t walk there. I was never peaceful, but I followed my mother’s advice to ignore bullies and don’t give them attention. Jokes on me – I never learned how to fight and argue. I remember myself hot headed, attention seeking, trying to talk with others, even making up lies or cutting bangs by myself just so people notice me. But I was always careful not to make trouble for my mother, be safe, get no injuries, clothes fine and without a rip.

I’m leaning more Snake primary for you. Your mother is clearly a very important figure in your life, and what she thinks and values is important, because she thinks it. You ignore bullies, don’t wander, and don’t get in trouble because your Mom told you not to… but there’s still this undercurrent of but I would have liked to. In fact, the way you behave for your mom seems to be very at odds with the “attention seeking” “hot-headed” “notice-me” behavior from the rest of your life. I’m considering Snake secondary (because of the different faces for differnt people) or Lion/Burnt Lion secondary (because you would have liked learning how to fight and argue.)

I was obsessed with Three Musketeers, friendship and finding connection. I would focus on a small group of people or even one person and hold onto it. It started getting really hard time when I had no friends whatever. That pushed me into survival mode and made me quiet and thoughtful.

This focus on small groups of friends is making me really lean Snake primary. (Also, if you’re a Snake Lion, then The Three Musketeers would be *the* perfect media for you.)

I think I solve low-stakes problems with something that looks like a snake or rapid fire bird. I think if I can and have someone close I can call for help, I will. Once in the dorms my European windows fall off the hinges, I couldn’t close it or put it back. I could have definitely done it myself with more time and more focusing and seeing how things work. But I had a friend living there next to me, so I asked them to come. Not that they knew more about windows than I did, but as out both room windows were similar in age maybe they would have a similar issue and know what to do. I don’t think they did, but it was fun and I wish I could do it more - meeting life with your friends and not alone, that’s why I called them. Administration would have been the last resort, they were pretty meh. I think we just ended looking around and putting it back in somehow, just trying to close it in different ways. I was always careful with it after that.

That’s lovely. And… weirdly I think I’m going to put this in for primary, for that whole “meeting life not alone” thing. That’s bigger than just problem solving, that’s getting into why you do things at all.

The actual problem solving seems to be “lets compare the broken window to a similar, not-broken window and see what’s wrong.” There’s a *little* I Know A Guy bird in this ‘who specifically do I know who would be able to solve this problem.’ But I could honestly see coming from any secondary.

In high-stake situations, the most important thing to me is reaching a mental space where I am stable, looking around without panic. That’s why sometimes, instead of pulling an all-nighter before an exam I turned on a movie. I just couldn’t deal with the stress and said bye lol. I didn’t do it all the time, I also studied a lot, alone and with friends, although I cannot say where studying or the movie was more useful. I personally would say in high-stakes situations it’s most critical to try to calm down and manage my stress and anxiety.

This is making me say Improvisational secondary (Lion or Snake.) Extra preparation isn’t going to comfort you, it’s going to mess you up. You’re not a Bird or Badger, who’ll get stressed out if they don’t read their notes over one more time. You want the mental space and agility to correctly read and correctly respond to the situation, and so you’re giving yourself the best chance for that.

I had experience with bad roommates so in dorms I wanted to live alone, not bother or bothering someone. While this opinion wasn’t allowed legally in our college, students would bribe administrator. I hate bribing, giving chocolate for literally noticing me in someone’s place (it’s a bribe older generation does here while asking employees for something they think is a favor, but it’s kind of their job; why don’t we just stop being assholes to each other instead? I am not sure other parts of the world does this so hence the explanation).

It’s interesting. You’re describing bribing, like - yeah you’re breaking the rules… but everyone does it, and everyone knows everyone does it, and to some degree you’re even expected to do it. But even though it’s kind of normal, it still bothers you. And this would bother a Lion secondary (who love to be straightforward and honest) more than it would bother a Snake (who might not even think of giving an administrator a “”gift”” as a bribe.)

As I mentioned earlier, administrator was meh and everyone and their mother knew it, so you can imagine I thought this is big, and I have to survive this and come on top.

This is very Snake primary energy, it has that practicality I absolutely love.

Money, I thought, should be the most useful, but there’s also too much and too little. In short, I sit down, wrote an application, had an envelope in my bag, talked a bit about how I would like to live alone and tried to slip it out of my bag on the table as it was nothing special. The most interesting thing was that he seemed amused all this time, and even then, I had my hair down and had lipstick on, so I don’t know, maybe my baby face looked interesting, or maybe that’s just stress distorting my memories. I was kind of prepared, but not really if you know what I mean, I obviously needed more information, but I was either naïve and thought this will work or this will be enough. In some way I was also mostly thinking I hate this, this either will work with how much I prepared or not, let’s go in and see. Maybe not good enough for sorting according to high-stakes situations but thank gods in some way that the only ones I had are like this one or exams.

Now that I have built your anticipation,

You absolutely have, I am extremely invested in this story.

let’s check together how that ended up for me, shall we? I did get a room for myself, and I really loved the room I got the first year there. Its window opened up to a street, I saw a lot of trees, sky, a neighboring apartment complex that did not belong to college. The bribery? It went well, they were either monitored or they actually meant what they said that they can’t guarantee me anything, and that the college had plans to reduce the available space due to shortage of students. So in the end, I left with my money, a little bruised dignity and a new experience, that I knew I would never want to repeat. We just do what we need to do, and what we are okay about doing, no?

I hate bribery, but I wanted to live alone more, so it weighted over.

Something like that (and this whole story, really) makes me think your primary is fighting with your secondary. You think bribing is wrong, and your Lion secondary hates not just being direct and ASKING for what you want... but you want that private room, so of course you go for it. You had a bad experience in dorms before, you’re going to protect yourself. That’s the decision that you feel best about.

And when it came down to this conversation, you got dressed up, you considered your appearance and how you came across, you thought about what the right level of bribery would be. But in the end, you think that the fact that you looked “interesting” got you through. And “this either will work with how much I prepared or not, let’s go in and see” is SO Lion. It’ll work, or it won’t, it’s out of my hands.

Recently I made a hard decision of whether to go back home or stay. Decisions are hard for me, especially when neither one nor the other option look better. I tried to take all that I have gathered about the situation and see which side is/feels stronger, which one has more value.

I’m starting to see what’s got you confused about your primary. One thing about being in a Snake is that decisions get a lot harder when they don’t affect your personal safety and well-being, or the safety and well-being of your People. You’re making a decision with ALL the tools here - gathering information to know which side is stronger (Bird), asking yourself what side feels stronger (Lion), and also considering which side has more value (depending on exactly what you mean by “value,” this could be Badger or Snake. All those approaching are going to give you slightly different answers.

I left unfriendly environment which saw no value in me or my culture for a more friendly place, where my roots are, where I can make my own decisions, but I had to leave my family. I didn’t feel good there, had no one I wanted to hold onto. But even though I am not a badger, but I am still in a missing people mood.

I bet you are. You’re a Snake, and you don’t have any People right now. (You’re not Burned. You’ve just recently moved to a new place, and don’t have any People yet.)

This was absolutely the Snake decision, also. You didn’t feel valued, so you went where you knew you could set things up the way you like them. You left your family to do it, and sure leaving your family hurts, but I think you would have felt like you’d betrayed yourself if you stayed.

Connection is so human, and we fuck it up so bad from so early on. Does it matter if you still feel alone around people who surround you? It doesn’t, so maybe it’s better to let your family members rest, be somewhere lonely without them and try to do it yourself. Is it already depressing? I am sorry I hope this doesn’t feel like trauma dumping.

Nah, you’re fine. You’re absolutely going to find people you connect to.

My fantasies change with time depending on what inspires and moves me then. I fantasize about a Scandinavian style house, surrounded by snow and a night sky, full of books and huge windows when I just want to run away. Other times I fantasize about being a powerful wizard on the run or in disguise, just trying to live with friends, accepted and running from some kind of huge responsibilities or a war. Not that I never fantasized about something more ambitious, but that probably changed with how my life experiences shaped the worldview I have now. Do I have to mention fantasies of falling in love with someone nice while doing something that I like and brings me joy or is that just basic haha?

The “living with friends/falling in love with someone nice”... that’s very human, but since this significant other person features heavily in a short description of your fantasy, going to put that as a point for Snake primary.

The characters I identify most with probably has nothing to do with me or who I am, more with how I see them. I identify with Lorelai from Gilmore Girls. In my opinion, she has a similar energy to me, to what I think I am inside or could be with a little more stability and confidence. She talks nonsense, and it is fine most of the time, people still like her. She loves her community, her little town, she creates life there and doesn’t wish to leave, and she doesn’t feel a need to run or rush somewhere. I feel I am most healthy and stable when that rush leaves me, and I am stable enough in here and now to actually live there.

I was honestly pretty happy with Lion Secondary as a sorting for you. But now I wonder. This doesn’t seem like something a Lion secondary would say. It seems like a Neutral Snake would say. And Lorelai is a VERY loud Neutral Snake (and a very loud Snake primary.

Now, Lion secondaries can be mellow, and just want to Vibe, but I absolutely do see shape-shifting capabilities from you, and I wouldn’t expect to see them from a Lion (unless you also had models or performances.) When you were a kid you were careful and thinking a lot about the ‘correct’ thing around your mom, but wild around your friends. In the bribing situation you came in with a persona, but then switched around - you’re funny, you’re interesting, you’re naive. Also in the wizard fantasy - you’re running away from the war, you don’t want to deal with it. Lion secondaries tend to fantasize about being revolutionaries or leading armies.

Snake Secondaries who like staying in Neutral have a blunt take-it-or-leave it quality which I do see from you, but you also seem just... kind of tired. Not Burnt, but just kind of done with dealing with a family who makes you feel lonely, an administration who isn’t helpful, an environment that doesn’t value your culture... no wonder you just want the ability to just say whatever, and not have to think about it.

I also think that the lack of a Person (which is a primary issue) is making this whole ask much more ‘authenticity’ flavored than it would be otherwise. You want, you really really desperately want a person to trust enough, and value enough, to be that level of authentic with.

I identify with Joy from Everything Everywhere, because she feels like a friend who doesn’t need you to tell them how you feel in these feeble words, she looks at you, and she knows, the whole movie knows.

You’re fantasizing about someone who just *gets* you, immediately. (You’re fantasizing about a Person.)

Likewise, I identify with Hunter from The Owl House. He says he misses knowing who he supposed to be. He comes from a really unhealthy background, but I just feel happy thinking how not only he himself warms up to people, but others warm up to him, see good in him, accept him and start to care, not how good people care, but how a friend cares. Hahaha, I identify with Pippin from LOTR movies, because he makes mistakes, and everyone around him is like WTF can you not, why don’t you just stand in one place or be tied to a leash? He’s not stupid, he’s not careless, he’s not bad or ignorant per se, mistakes just happen, it’s natural and instead of being made to feel wrong, let’s just not do that and make it normal, because it will happen, and we will learn from our mistakes without pressure or shouting. It’s a miracle Pippin wants to do things after all.

You’re fantasizing about getting a group of People. Don’t think it’s at all a coincidence that both the Owl House and the Lord of the Rings focus on a small, rag-tag group of people who don’t quite fit, for one reason or another. I also think you’ve probably been dealing with someone who does not react to *normal* mistakes in a healthy way. So of course Pippin and Hunter would be comforting.

Things that make me feel powerful? Money, having choices, being able to say no, I will not do anything of what you suggest and instead do this completely different thing. Because I can, because I want it, because I can see I will succeed, I will make it. I can choose to do things my way. You need money or other resources to be able to do that. Calling a plumber and being able to pay them would make me more powerful than waiting for someone I know do me a favor based on our relationship. While not being able to select what I want, or having crappy choices wherever I look makes me feel locked up and incredible passive. To quote the quiz, helplessness doesn’t make me angry, it freezes m, but I don’t get angry.

Damn. Yeah, I don’t know what I can say to any of that. What is power? Money, and the ability to say no. And really, when you get down to it - money is important when it allows to say no. The more you can say no, the more powerful you are.

Recently graduating was the most difficult thing I had to do. I had little to no help, big expectations from the board and little freedom on what decision I could make. Myself already being anxious about what I will do in the future and this major giving me panic attacks in the making did not help focus and do it right. I wonder would it have been better if I majored in something I loved but was kind of useless, than something I hated but what is seen as practical and marketable.

There really isn’t a right answer there. Not everyone needs to love their job, but some do. Some people are fine without a steady paycheck, or without a large paycheck - but some aren’t. Any decision that involves the future like that is going to be a gamble. And I guess I’m at the point now, with how fast the world and the economy is changing, that trying to guess what will be practical and marketable ten years down the line - isn’t nearly as sure a thing as it used to be.

From what I’ve gathered, thesis can feel useless. I knew a guy who paid someone to write it for him, and honestly with my own experience I wouldn’t care about ethics of it now and would have rather done that if I could have a chance. In the end, how exactly writing your last paper, thesis shows your skills? Sure, you can follow academic paper writing rules, you can use computer, you can read and gather information from research papers, and you can ignore your anxiety and interview people, interpret their answers and have enough skill in a language you are using to not only make sense but follow all the rules. I guess you can use the skills somewhere; I am just talking myself out of this idea. Wait, if someone who never majored in your area and does not have the skills you worked for, can write you a paper and write it good, it’s not an excellent way to evaluate someone.

Yeah, Snake secondary for sure. And what can I say, you make a compelling case. The structural problems in academia, the classism, the behind-the-times - it’s very much still there, and there are lots of people who can talk about it much better than I can.

My friends were busy with their own stuff, my family were far away and with a big generational gap, professors didn’t help and then evaluated me strangely. It was really hard to see a person I knew for a few years, liked, wanted to impress be against me. Sorry I am tired, but I really needed to write something, and this seemed like a good thing to occupy myself with. Off course, I don’t know how you feel about academic unfaithfulness, but from my perspective, my experience was shitty enough that I wouldn’t give a flying sausage if there would be a next time, especially if I did everything else the right way. I really don’t know how much it was me, because it was me in some ways, but I still think my supervisor didn’t help me, but was ready to judge me. She probably felt she wasn’t paid enough to deal with my problems then. Right. You know what I want to do now? I want to never look back, never get back there, and never even touch this major. I want to leave it in the past and start anew. I want to be able to choose and not be tied to it.

Spoken like a snake secondary. And no wonder why you seem so tired. Also, being treated badly by your advisor is going to hurt anybody... but ESPECIALLY a snake primary.

Thank you for your time. Have a great day. Or night.

I will. :) Thanks for writing in.

#submission #sortme #wisteria sorts #shc #sortinghatchats #snake primary #snake secondary #lion vs snake secondary #double snake #neutral snake

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dontwantnoneunlessyougotmunson · 1 year

Note

I got this idea in my head of reader and eddie in an established relationship and eddie is a little down about the everything the town is saying about him, and readers sibling (8-10yrs maybe) decided to dress up as eddie for Halloween because they looks up to him and it’s cheers eddie up.

I’m obviously terrible at wording things but yeah 😅

My Hero

First of all, stop putting yourself down because I completely understood where you were going with this and second, I stopped writing something else because I needed this to be in the world that much sooner. I'm crying fkasdbfka. Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you love it. Also, this is post events of the season finale, so our boy is alive. <3

Eddie was slumped against you on your bed as you flipped through a book. Your hand drifted to his hair and you twirled a piece around your finger. He sighed and curled up tighter, pulling his jacket over his face. The events before the "earthquake" had been hard enough on him and the aftermath was even worse. People had somehow convinced themself that a single teenager had the power of the devil to kill people and had caused the destruction of Hawkins.

Because of the gaping hole in the trailer, Wayne was staying with a coworker and Eddie was residing in your house. Your parents had always liked Eddie. He'd been nothing but polite to them and good to you and your little sister. And she absolutely worshipped him. When she'd gone for a haircut before the quake and they asked her how she wanted it, she squealed, "Like Eddie, like Eddie!" The stylist had frozen, unsure how to proceed, but under the power of your mother's death glare, she'd cut bangs that rested on your sister's forehead just like Eddie's.

She hadn't been able to show him until he'd returned from the Upside Down. It was something he hadn't wanted to share with you, but he knew ignorance wasn't guaranteed to keep you safe. You kept his wounds clean and helped check his bandages every day and in that time, your relationship had only grown stronger. When he'd shown up, bloody and worn, you had pulled him inside before anyone outside could see. Your parents were surprised to see him and fretted over his injuries which he'd passed off to them as because of the quake.

When your sister had finally gotten up the next morning, she almost burst everyone's eardrums when she saw him and realized she could eat her breakfast with her favorite person. She rambled on and on about her new hair and he smiled for the first time after all of the horror he'd endured.

Now, many of your days were spent like this. Curled up together. Staying inside where people couldn't find him. He'd go outside again one day. But it wouldn't be today.

~~~

Your little sister poked her head in your room a bit later and grinned cheekily at you, missing a couple teeth on the sides. "Pssst! Come here!"

You both rose off of the bed, Eddie wincing in pain and she pointed at him. "Not you!"

He frowned a bit. "But why not?"

"Because it's a secret!" she said with a foot stomp for emphasis.

He grinned at her and said, "But secrets don't make friends."

Her face fell, mouth partially open. "But I thought we were already friends."

He scooted to the edge of the bed and held his arms out. "Of course we are, Giggles. Don't worry, I'm just teasin' ya."

She rushed to him and wound her arms around his neck. He stood carefully and swung her around before setting her back on the floor and sending her off with a pat on the head. She whirled and raced to her room, grabbing your hand on the way. Before shutting her door she slapped a sign on the door that said 'No Eddies aloud'. She dove into her closet, a blur of chaos and yanked out a bag that crinkled as she dug into it.

"Look what Mama got me!" She pulled out a vest and jacket similar to Eddie's and thrust it at you. You looked at it confused until she pulled out a Hellfire club shirt. "Dustin gave this one to me, too!"

"What is all this for, Giggles?"

Her shoulders drooped and her bottom lip poked out. "Well. I get happy when me and my friends dress like each other. I figured maybe he would too. For Halloween, we can be twins!"

Her face brightened at the end and you stroked the wild hairs on her head back, gently running your fingers through it. "That would be really nice, I think. Since you guys are best friends and all," you added with a wink.

She gave you another big toothy grin before sticking her hand in your face and wiggling her finger at you. "But you have to pinkie promise not to tell him!!"

Her brow furrowed as best as a child could manage and you fought the urge to laugh, schooling your face into a serious expression. You linked your pinkie with hers.

"I absolutely promise to not tell Eddie about the coolest Halloween costume ever."

~~~

The night of Halloween came around and you got ready for trick-or-treating. You were having trouble with the wings you wanted to add to your costume and had turned around to ask Eddie to help you when you saw him sitting there with a mask in his hand. He flipped it back and forth and then turned to you, holding it up to his face. You sat beside him on the bed and rubbed his back gently, prompting him to lean on you.

"What is it, honey?"

He heaved a soul-deep sigh, dropping his hands to his lap, and murmured, "Doesn't matter what I wear, people will see me how they want to, regardless."

Your eyes welled with tears as you held him close, rocking him carefully. A knock startled you two apart and you heard a small voice being projected deeper.

"The Dungeon Master requests entrance to the castle!"

He puffed a small breath of air through his nose and looked to you. You pushed off of the bed and started to open up the door. You started to pull it open before you felt a strong tug from the other side.

"No, not yet!" Your sister cried. "Make him close his eyes!"

You turned back to the bed and gestured to Eddie, "You heard her."

He slapped his hands over his eyes and said, "Okay, eyes closed!"

"No peeking!" she called back.

"Not even a smidge, Giggles," he chuckled.

You opened the door and covered your mouth, tears already streaming down your cheeks. She trotted over to him giddily and tapped his knees with her hands.

"Okay, okay, open!"

He looked at her, eyes adjusting from the darkness and looked her over, registering her outfit. Complete with a blowup guitar slung across her body, she truly did look like a mini Eddie. His brow furrowed and he looked to you and back to her.

"What? I don't- I don't understand. Why are you dressed like me?"

She gave him her signature grin while she explained to him how "twinning" with her friends makes her happy and his face softened toward her. "Plus, you're my hero!"

He spluttered for a moment and she looked panicked.

"I'm your what?.."

She flipped back to her dazzling grin. "My hero! I know.." Her worried eyes darted up to his and she hugged him around the waist while she finished speaking. "I know people say mean things about you. But I know that you're not mean. You're always so so nice! And you get me ice cream! And you're nice to Y/N! Plus, Mommy and Daddy reallllly like you! And they don't like mean people. So that's how I know you're good. And good people are heroes," she pulled back and finished with a sharp nod, eyes laser-focused on him.

He crushed her to his chest, the guitar squeaking as he squished it. Her little voice came out muffled as he rocked her back and forth.

"Can't. Breathe."

"Oops. Sorry, kid."

He let go and she threw her head back, gasping dramatically before looking at him curiously.

"Are you not gonna wear your mask, Eddie?"

He smiled at her and ruffled her already mussed hair.

"Nah, I think I'd like to twin with you. You're my hero, too."

She beamed and took off running, calling behind her, "Come on, slowpokes! I'm gonna get all the best candy!!"

***

Note: Actually cried while writing this. Multiple times. How dare you. 😭

#Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson #Eddie munson fanfiction

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v3nusxsky · 1 year

Note

Hear me out... the fic is pre unification and r is doveys adopted daughter...

They are in their final year as an ever and is top of the school/head girl however everything has started slipping recently. One night dovey can't find r anywhere so goes to see if lesso has seen r/ask her advice on R's recent shift in behaviour but ends up walking in on lesso and r making out. Lots of drama ensues as dovey is very much not happy with the arrangement claiming lesso is corrupting her little girl to which lesso rebuts that r was corrupted long before she got her hands on them. This only makes the situation worse and dovey with motherly concern starts interrogating the pair about their relationship and what lead to r's sudden change in behaviour.

Good girl gone bad| slight NSFW

*Authors note~ ahhh I love the way this can be so relatable but also fantasy at the same time. The underlying theme is sensitive but I'll do my best to handle it delicately*

Trigger warnings~ fear of coming out

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

When Dovey adopted you at two years old you would have never realised your life would turn out quite like this. You didn't know much of your birth parents, enough to know they weren't the kind of people worth knowing. All you've ever known is you momma. Dovey adopted you as a cheeky toddler who'd been through too much in her short life, her determination to give you the best life possible only grew. At the age of two years old you would sit in your mommas office while she worked, you'd met every single professor in the Ever building and they all loved you, then you would head back to yours and your mommas living chambers to just be together.

It was no surprise to anyone that you were sorted into the School for Good, practically a shining start of good and kindness. You worked hard to please your mother, despite feeling secure in the fact she loved you, you always felt the need to work hard to ensure she would keep you. Crazy, you knew that but that's abandonment issues for you. You were always top of the class, helping around the school and with the younger students and eventually in your last year you became head girl. Truly there was no doubt that you were practically perfect in every way.

There were plenty of Evers, secretly waiting for your fall, years had gone by with no evidence of it ever happening. But then something changed within you. At eighteen years old you'd fallen in love, with someone you knew would cause tensions between you and your mother. Not just because they were a Never, but because of her gender. You hadn't told Clarissa about your sexuality, too afraid it will make her hate you. But you were tired of hiding a part of you, if she couldn't love you for who you were then did you really need her? You knew you did. You loved her and she had chosen you yet the internal battle was ripping you apart. You because to shut down, not caring how you acted or what you said, if she could stay during that then surly she can stay with you liking women. Right?

Your mother had tried to ask what was causing the issue but you just ignored her as though she wasn't there before leaving your quarters, going god knows where with god knows who. That was what caused Dovey to seek out a different perspective.

You had made your way to your girlfriends office, silently slipping in the room and making your way to sit on her lap. Her hands instantly found your back to support you as she took in the sight of you, "I missed you" you mumbled to the older women smiling when she replied "and I you little dove" before claiming your lips in a kiss. What was only intended to be a sweet reassuring kiss turned into a passionate make out session, as most kisses did with you two. Only this one cut short by the sound of your mothers voice and the extra presence in the room. Neither of you paid any mind to your mother. You were too scared to leave your lover's embrace and see just how mad she was, that meant coming clean about you. Lesso simply enjoyed getting under your mothers skin, even shooting her a wink as she continued to kiss you before pressing kisses into your neck.

"Lesso! You don't keep kissing my daughter after I've walked in!" She all but yelled causing you to tense up. It was rare she yelled but when she did there was always a good reason for it. Lesso soothing rubbed slow form circles into your back as you hid your face in her neck. "Leonora! What on earth were you thinking corrupting her like that? Are you the reason she's becoming so so... Never like!" Ouch okay that hurt and you were about to defend your girlfriend when she quickly hit back, "me? Corrupting her? Oh no she was already corrupted before me unfortunately" she made sure to add an extra thick layer of disappointment in the last word, "and her behaviour is all you Clarissa" she all but purred feeling you chuckle into her neck. You'd not really seen your mother be put in her place like that before.

As expected, your mother went on the rant of how true love was important and you shouldn't be wasting time with Lesso, your prince was out there waiting. And even had the nerve to ask if Leonora was treating you right. If you'd had sex. All the private stuff you'd rather not tell your mother. That's what caused you to snap, hoping off your girlfriends and beginning to pace. Both women had their eyes trained on you. One with motherly concern and confusion while the other love and worry. Leonora knew what was coming next, the explosion of words as you attempted to defend yourself by wrapping your arms around yourself, "momma! You can't say things like that to her. I love her momma. I sought her out, I kissed her first and yes we made love momma. Not sex but love. I don't want a prince when I can have her. I like women, always have and always will. And I choose her." You were interrupted by your girlfriend reminding you that if you didn't take a breath you could potentially trigger a panic attack. You ignored her and carried on with your emotional rant until you couldn't breathe.

Both women were edging towards you knowing all to well how to help you but all you could do is curl into your girlfriend and away from your mother, she stepped back and watched as Lesso cared for you in ways she'd never imagine Lesso to be capable of. Only when you were calm and fully functioning did you pull away and whisper, "momma. I love her and I love you I don't want to lose you but I don't want to hide no more."

The silence was deafening as you waited for some form of response. You got one a few moments later, "baby, I love you for you I just don't want you hurt. If lesso is who you choose then okay" she murmured before turning to your girlfriend with an almost murderous look, "and if you even think of hurting my baby I will kill you!" You had a feeling your girlfriend would quip back with something and she didn't disappoint, "oh how very ever like!" Causing you to giggle and go and hug your mother. "I love you momma. Thank you" and she pressed a kiss to your head and reminded you of her promise she made when she adopted you sixteen years ago, "I will always love you baby I just want you safe happy and warm."

Word count~ 1334

#fanfic #anon answered #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #lady lesso x you #clarissa dovey #leonora lesso x reader #clarissa Dovey mother #adopted reader #anon requests

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mallylorelaimorningstar · 10 months

Text

(Angry Dia :3)

You sigh as you sit in your room on a bed you outgrew 10 years ago. After your dad got sick and was diagnosed with Cancer, your mother fell into a depression and she started drinking.

When your dad passed away due to the complications from cancer, your mother's drinking habits became even worse and so did the abuse you had to endure by her hand. Soon enough, her drinking habits started to affect her health.

As your mother's health declined, so did the abuse. But, what you didn't expect was for your mother to sell your soul to the devil in order for her to have a longer life.

A few weeks after your mother did what she did, there were a few demons who appeared around your room. None of the demons ever spoke to you, they just watched you. At first, you were terrified of the demons, but after you got older, you simply ignored the demons.

One day, you were in your bedroom reading, you were reading out loud to one demon in particular. You didn't know the demon's name, He was pale with black hair and red eyes. He was sitting there with his legs crossed and his eyes were closed. He watched you since you were young, he was the one you talked to and cried to when it came to your pain, he seemed more like a parent figure than your mother did. You must have been making too much noise because your mother came storming in with a butcher knife in hand.

After your mother made that deal, her health got better, she started dating a new guy, the new guy had noticed your situation and he felt bad for you. He brought you things like books and he got you a new bed with some new clothes. Your mother simply ignored you everyday until today.

When your mother stormed in, she was holding the knife, She noticed the demon you were reading to. "Mallory! Who the hell is that?!"

You look up from your book at the demon who simply opens his eyes and he glares at your mother. "Mom.... It's not what you think--" You start to say only to be silenced as your mother slaps you hard in the face.

Your mother slaps you and goes on a rant. "Shut your fucking mouth, you stupid little bitch!!!! You are disobey me?! Bringing another man into my house?!" She screams and she goes to slap you again only for the demon to stop her, he grabbed her wrist and he glared at her.

Your mother was furious and in retaliation, she stabs the demon with her knife. The demon wince before he slaps you mother across your bedroom. You immediately jump off your bed, looking at the demon he was holding the stop on his body in which he was stabbed, as you look at the demon only one name comes to mind. "Lucifer...."

Lucifer, now in his demon form, lets out a pained hiss as he looks up at you. "She's covered it in holy water....."

Your mother recovers she stands up, she rubs her head and her eyes snap to you, she starts to approach you and Lucifer only to be grabbed by an even larger demon. "That's enough Kelly."

Lucifer looks up, his his widen in relief but he hisses in pain. "Diavolo..."

You look up at the tan, red haired demon with gold eyes. He was wearing black and white clothing with golden accents, many of his physical extremities were adorned in gold. You were scared at first but the demons eyes soften as he looks at you. He looks back at your mother, his eyes were fixed in a glare. "I gave you life, you sold your daughter soul to me and I gave you life on two conditions, you never spoke about it anyone and you never tried to harm another being in your small insignificant life."

Your mother becomes terrified and the demon drops her to the floor. "I haven't my Lord..... I promise!"

Diavolo looks at your mother, his eyes are dark and he chuckles menacingly. "So you not only break your promises but you lied about doing so. You abused your daughter for many years and now you just harmed one of my most important demons, the deal we had? Is broken."

Your mother bows her head and she gets down on her knees to beg for forgiveness. "No! Please! I'll do anything!"

Diavolo shakes his head and he looks at you with sympathy, he felt bad for you and he was angry. "There is one way...... Your daughter must forgive you, if she shows you compassion, I let you live."

Your mother looks up from the floor, she looks at you as you still hold Lucifer. "Well Baby? What about it? I'm your mama.... I raised you. I'm your mother." She said, her tone only grew agitated as you stared at her.

You frowned and your eyes narrowed into a glare. "You blamed me for dad's death and you abused me for years. You hurt Lucifer... You're not my mother, as far as I'm concerned. I don't have one of those."

Diavolo nods and he snaps his fingers, he opens a portal. "You heard her." He then forcefully throws your mother through the portal and down to Hell. He looks at Lucifer and his glare soften as he rushes over to you two. "Lucifer..... Go home, go see Barbatos, he'll know what to do."

Lucifer looks at you worriedly then at Diavolo, he nods and he stands up. He walks over to your closet and he opens a portal to the Devildom, he steps through and the portal closes.

You look at the spot where Lucifer once was, you promptly stand up as you're now facing the Demon King. "Can I go too? I can't stand to be here anymore...."

Diavolo looks at you, he grasps your chin in between his fore finger and his thumb. "I'm sorry my sweet girl, You can't. It is not yet time for you to join me in my Realm. You're simply too young. Just be patient, your time will come sooner than you realize." He says as he holds your small face in his palms, he then presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You are saddened at the fact that you can't leave. You look up at the Demon King. "So... I'm just going to stay here? Alone?"

Diavolo smiles and he shakes his head. "No darling, Lucifer will be back for you, as soon as he is sufficiently healed. I promise, have some patience and you'll join me soon." He presses a kiss to your head before pulling away and disappearing in a cloud of black smoke but not before whispering in you ear. "It's alright, sweetheart..... It won't be long, I promise."

You sigh and sit on your bed, confused as to what had just happened. You spent the rest of the night wondering when Lucifer would be back for you.

(Here's this medium size ficlet, it's sorta based on a tale from Reddit but I made it Obey Me! themed because Lucifer acting like your dad? It's almost as good as him being your lover, you get Diavolo for that though! I hope y'all like this! ;)

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naivesilver · 8 months

Note

RIGHT. hello again. I am once again in your inbox :) how about 'would you stop with the worry - flurry?' or 'i care cause it’s not fair!' or 'oh , sweetie , what’s wrong?' from the EAH ask for Cedar? 🥰

HI I AM VERY LATE but. You know. Gretel duty called AHSKDGASKHDKGNADSC thank you, I hope you'll be able to forgive me 💗💗💗 also, I did try to come up with some ACTUAL EAH content, but the urge was too strong, so have a little Uncle Wick and Baby Cedar snippet again LMAO

Ever After High Quote Starters

"Oh, sweetie, what’s wrong?"

People made of wood can't cry, so Cedar really isn't crying, no siree.

What she is doing, instead, is kicking the underside of her bed with her foot, so the thumping noise will drown the yelling coming from downstairs. She hasn't been very successful thus far - her father and grandfather are louder even than the obnoxious clacking of wood against wood, and keep getting worse as they go - but Cedar is determined to continue, if only for lack of anything better to do; she can't get tired, and she's scared of what might happen if she leaves the room, so kicking it is, for now.

Besides, she feels kind of safe, laying on the floor under the bed, as though she were being kept in a neat little box. There'll be some dust flakes clinging to her hair when she crawls out, maybe, but it's not like she gets allergies, and no one will think to look for her there, not until they've calmed down a bit.

Or at least, that's what she thought. The creaking of the door opening makes her freeze, her leg dropping as the two men's row gets louder for a moment before it's shut out again - Cedar would hold her breath if she had any, but as it is, she can only wait, wide-eyed, as a pair of legs approach the bed heavily and kneel down to check underneath.

That's when Uncle Wick's thin, long face pops into view, smiling broadly at her. "Hello, pretty girl. Mind if I join you?"

"No." It's the truth. Of course it's the truth. Cedar is always happy to see Uncle Wick. It's just that she wishes it were Dad instead, because it would mean that the fight is over and she can leave her hiding spot for good.

Still, Grandfather says she shouldn't look a gifted Pegasus in the mouth, so she simply watches as her father's best friend lays on his back and wriggles to fir next to her - he's fairy tall, Uncle Wick, which means his long legs are probably poking out from under the bed in a very silly way, but Cedar isn't really in the mood for laughing, right now. She reprises her kicking, instead, eyes fixed stubbornly on the bed-frame.

A hand comes up to rub at her head, mussing her curly hair. "What's wrong, sweetpea? They shout at you too?"

"No. They just said I should go to my room." Which is much, much worse, in her opinion. "But they're talking 'bout Raven. Raven is my friend. Why can't I listen too?"

"I don't know, kiddo. They told me to get out too." Uncle Wick sighs heavily, his voice growing wistful.

"Look, they're gonna tire themselves out at some point, okay? That's how it always goes. No clue what old Milton told them, but they can't be mad at him forever."

The problem is, Cedar isn't so sure they're mad at Headmaster Grimm and not, say, each other. She wasn't allowed to hear much of what they were saying, but she caught enough to worry - Raven's name came up, and her mother's, and something Grandfather had done, and then off she was, pressing her hands against her ears in an useless attempt to ignore them all.

She's supposed to go to this headmaster's school with Raven when she's older, so she can follow her destiny and become a real girl. Are they going to quarrel so loudly, too, when it's time? Is that why she was sent away, so they don't start fighting too soon? It doesn't make sense.

And what does the Evil Queen have to do with it, anyway? She's dead. Cedar and Raven were supposed to be playing in the workshop while their fathers talked about what would happen after, but they got distracted enough, what with all those somber, whispering adults. "Nothing bad's happened to Raven, right?"

"Course not, Cedar. She's doing just fine. Bet you can go visit her during the weekend, if you ask your dad."

That's something, at least. And yet, the relief is short-lived, for a moment later Pinocchio's voice raises even louder and angrier, so different from his customary soft tones. "Listen, I don't know what Grimm asked you to do, but don't tell me it's something good, because I won't hexing believe you, Father-"

Cedar shifts her position subtly, curling around the man's arm with an ear pressed against the sleeve of his jacket. "Can you tell me a story, Uncle Wick?"

"Sure." Uncle Wick sounds like he's smiling. Cedar is grateful for it, even though he must only be doing it to be brave, to keep her calm and distracted - maybe his voice will succeed where her foot failed, droning on and on until she can't hear anything else anymore. "Once upon a time, there was a very clever wooden girl-"

Cedar finds herself smiling back a bit, despite herself. She appreciates the effort, she really does, even if he's being silly. "That's not right. You always say the same thing."

"Yeah, 'cause all the stories I like to tell are true. Anyway, where was I- Once upon a time, there was a beautiful wooden girl, and she was the cleverest girl in all the realm..."

#lizardthelizard #ask meme #ever after high #eah #pinocchio #cedar wood #lampwickcore #fanfic #do you ever think about the fact that only about 4 people knew that raven's mom was alive?#and that one of them was the grandfather of one of her bffas????? who couldn't tell his granddaughter #bc she was CURSED TO SPILL SECRETS????#anyway I have great love for my rebel girls and their parents. they all deserved better smh

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yersina · 2 years

Note

I don't know if you're still open for writing prompts but would you be interested in writing Sung Hyunje being Yoohyun's big brother and not Yoojin? 👀 Like Riette and Noah but worse since it's two crazies instead of one.

I hope you know that the first thing I did after reading through this prompt was whisper “oh my god” in a horrified and yet fascinated tone

There’s no love lost between Hyunje and his parents, really. When he decides to stay overseas for an extra two years to get another degree after finishing his bachelor’s and stay away from them for just that slightest bit longer, he knows he’ll find no protest from them even if he’s doing it on their dime.

Looking down at the small boy in his parents’ living room, though, he thinks that maybe he should’ve at least called home once during the five years that he’s been away.

“Who are you?” he asks curiously.

The boy had frozen in the middle of putting away a carton of milk when Hyunje had let himself into the apartment, but now he slams the refrigerator door shut with more force than necessary and scowls at Hyunje with a truly impressive snarl for a child who can’t be older than ten. “Who are you?” he shoots back.

“I asked first.”

“You’re the one who broke in!”

“This was my apartment first.” He doesn’t bother to hide his amusement at the boy’s frustration with his answer. “I used to live here with my parents, but I haven’t been home in a while.”

The boy frowns. “Well, I’ve never seen you before in my life.” Hyunje hums absently and takes a seat at the dining table, sensing that this might take a while. “Hey! Don’t just sit at the table like you didn’t break into my apartment!”

“I live here too.” Hyunje folds his hands together and looks down at the boy. “Are you living here on your own?”

“No,” the boy says venomously, practically radiating hostility. “I live here with my parents.”

“And who are your parents?”

The boy glares at him, obviously reluctant to reveal any more information, but Hyunje just tilts his head and waits patiently. “…Han Eunmi,” he finally grits out. Hyunje crosses his arms. “And Sung Hyunwoo,” he finishes in a mumble.

Ah.

He’s not surprised. Sung Hyunwoo has never been a shining paragon of smart choices. “Sung Hyunwoo is my father as well,” he offers after a moment.

The boy’s eyes grow wide. “We’re brothers?” His eyes very clearly dart to Hyunje’s hair. “Are you sure?”

“Half,” Hyunje corrects. “My mother is Amélie Beaufort.” Not that it matters—he hasn’t seen his mother since he was born. He watches the boy mouth the French name with a look of perplexity. “What’s your name?”

Instantly, the look of suspicion is back. “You tell me yours first.”

He wonders if the boy is this wary of everyone, or if this is special treatment. “Sung Hyunje.”

“You have a Korean name,” the boy notes.

Hyunje raises an eyebrow. “I’m speaking Korean, aren’t I?” The boy rolls his eyes as if to say, Obviously. “I was raised in Korea. My father named me. Stop avoiding my question: what’s your name?”

“I’m not avoiding your question,” the boy mutters, but Hyunje elects to ignore it. The boy’s face goes through a series of increasingly rebellious expressions, but after another beat, he admits, “Han Yoohyun.”

Interesting. Hyunje’s willing to place all his money on Sung Hyunwoo having no idea that Han Yoohyun existed for the first half of the boy’s life. “How old are you?”

“How old are you?” Yoohyun echoes again.

His urge to strangle the child grows ever stronger. “Under ten, I’m assuming?”

The face that Yoohyun pulls is just as telling as his muttered, “How did you know that?”

“Seven?”

“Ew, no. I’m eight. And a half,” Yoohyun stresses. Hyunje just barely refrains from following Yoohyun’s example and rolling his eyes.

“And how long have you been living here?”

“Hey, it’s your turn—” Whatever protest Yoohyun was about to make is cut off by a quiet knock on the door. Both of them freeze at the sound, which makes the sound of the lock clicking open and subsequent creak of the door echo loudly in the silence.

“Hello, Yoohyun-ah? Are you home?”

“Hyung!” Just like that, Yoohyun is out of his chair and sprinting across the room, tackling whoever is in the doorway with his full force.

“Oof,” the person complains, but it’s done with a certain soft fondness that speaks of obvious closeness. “Hi there.”

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Yoohyun complains, and the way he looks up at the teenager as he closes the door behind himself makes his previous reluctance with Hyunje look like night and day.

“It’s been, like, two days,” the teenager laughs. “You know I can’t come over every day—oh.” A startled gaze meets his own. “Um. Hi.”

“Hello,” Hyunje greets in return, eyeing the newcomer curiously. He’s clearly much older than Yoohyun, so probably not a classmate or even in the same school—perhaps a neighbor? A babysitter?

“…are you… a relative?” the teenager asks tentatively when Hyunje fails to add anything else. “Teacher?”

“He’s my brother,” Yoohyun answers in his stead, nose wrinkling with distaste. “I met him today.”

Surprisingly, the teenager’s expression hardens at that. “Oh? Could I see your ID? Or passport?”

Hyunje suppresses his urge to laugh, but can’t help the smile that trickles onto his face. Protective, he diagnoses, and certainly smarter than the eight year old in the room with them. “Certainly.”

He pulls out his wallet and hands over his ID, taking the opportunity to observe the teenager in closer detail when he steps closer to take the card. He looks younger than Hyunje originally thought, perhaps not even in high school yet, but unfortunately there’s no school crest on his uniform for Hyunje to confirm his guess. “I’m Sung Hyunje. Sung Hyunwoo is my father as well,” he offers while the teenager is scrutinizing the details on his ID and turning it in the light. He’s had to say that particular fact more times in the past ten minutes than he has in the previous ten years.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sung Hyunje-ssi,” the teenager says after another moment, passing the card back to him. “I’m one of Yoohyun’s neighbors. I stop by to check in every now and then to make sure that he’s okay since he’s home alone so often. Sorry for the suspicion.”

“Understandable,” Hyunje says agreeably. “And what’s your name?”

“Han Yoojin.” At Hyunje’s raised eyebrows and pointed look at Yoohyun, he hurries to add, “Uh, no relation. Just a coincidence.”

“I see.”

“Do you know where his—your—parents are?” Yoojin asks abruptly. “I haven’t seen them in ages and I’m worried about Yoohyun.”

“Hyung,” Yoohyun whines. His hands haven’t loosened their grip on Yoojin’s vest this entire time, Hyunje notes. “I told you before: I have money, I can order food on my phone plus there’s a store right down the street, and I know how to get to school.”

Yoojin visibly softens when he turns to look down at Yoohyun. “I know, I know, but you shouldn’t have to stay at home by yourself all the time. It’s not safe.”

“But I have you!” Yoohyun chirps brightly. If Yoojin had softened before, he’s practically melting now. Hyunje wonders if Yoojin’s parents know that he’s so close with their neighbor’s child.

“But I’m not around all the time, Yoohyun-ah.” The admission looks like it physically pains Yoojin to say. Hyunje wants to take their relationship and poke at it. It’s fascinating. “Where have you been, Sung Hyunje-ssi?” he asks, turning his attention back to Hyunje.

“I went to school overseas,” he answers. “I don’t keep in contact with my family.”

Yoojin eyes him with a sizable amount of skepticism. “And are you back in Korea for good?”

Truthfully, Hyunje wasn’t planning on it. He came back to pack up whatever remaining belongings he might’ve still had lying around the apartment and leave Korea entirely after this, but his impulse control has never been terrific and his instincts are telling him to stay right here. “Yes,” he offers cheerfully. “I’ll have to leave momentarily to pack up the rest of my things, but I plan on staying here for the foreseeable future.”

“What?” Yoohyun interjects, scowling up a storm again. “No.”

Hyunje raises an eyebrow at him. “No?”

“No! I don’t know you and I don’t want you to live with me. Go away.”

“Yoohyun-ah…” Yoojin gives him an unreadable look before turning to Yoohyun. “Sung Hyunje-ssi is your brother. Wouldn’t living with him be better than staying here alone?”

“Why can’t you live with me?” Hyunje has never really been susceptible to puppy eyes, but he can tell they’re absolutely devastating on Yoojin. “I like you more.”

“Yoojin-ssi can visit whenever he wants,” Hyunje points out. “In fact, if he wants to stay over some days, he’s welcome to.” With that, he knows that he’s won Yoohyun over. Can be bribed with Yoojin, he notes with satisfaction, and smiles in response to the look Yoojin gives him.

“Really?” Yoohyun gasps. He slaps his hands on the dining table demandingly and leans in close. “You promise?”

For this, Hyunje has no reason to lie. “Of course.”

Yoohyun rocks back on his heels and scrunches his features up in an exaggerated thinking face. Yoojin keeps his attention on Yoohyun, but periodically, Hyunje catches his gaze darting in his direction. He wonders what’s running through the teenager’s mind right now. “Fine,” Yoohyun declares decisively after a few seconds. “You can stay.”

“Thank you,” Hyunje replies magnanimously. Regardless of the opinion of an eight year old, he would’ve stayed, but this makes things easier.

“I’ll… let you two get acquainted then,” Yoojin offers hesitantly, taking a step back towards the door.

Yoohyun immediately pounces in outrage. “What? No, hyung! You’re finally here—let’s watch a movie! Or play a game!”

Yoojin bends down and ruffles the boy’s hair with a reassuring smile. “I’ll come back tomorrow,” he soothes while Yoohyun attempts to comb it back into some semblance of order. “You spend time with Sung Hyunje-ssi today, okay?”

Yoohyun pouts. “Fine.” He sticks out a hand, pinky extended, for Yoojin to shake. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Yoojin links his pinky with Yoohyun and presses their thumbs together. “See you tomorrow, Yoohyun-ah.”

At this, Hyunje stands up. “Let me walk you to the door.”

“The door’s right there—”

“I don’t mind,” Hyunje says with a smile and follows an uneasy Yoojin to the doorway. “It was nice to meet you, Yoojin-ssi. Thank you for looking after Yoohyun in his parents’ absence.”

“Oh, it was no problem, really,” Yoojin hurriedly reassures. “He’s a good kid.”

Hyunje is fairly certain that that is emphatically not true, if Yoohyun’s attitude around Hyunje is anything to go by, but now isn’t the time to be removing Yoojin’s rose-colored glasses. “Would you like compensation for your time? I’m not sure if my father would have offered anything, but I’d be more than happy to.”

Yoojin’s shaking his head before Hyunje even finishes speaking. “No, no, that’s really not necessary.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then I insist you join us for dinner at least once a week.” Yoojin opens his mouth, no doubt to protest again, so Hyunje cuts him off with, “I’m sure Yoohyun would love your company.”

If Yoohyun’s weakness is clearly Yoojin, Yoojin’s is Yoohyun in equal measure. “I’ll have to check with my mom,” Yoojin hedges, eyes flicking behind Hyunje to where Yoohyun is no doubt lurking, but Hyunje already knows his acquiescence is all but guaranteed.

“Of course,” Hyunje allows graciously. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Yoojin-ssi.”

“Right. Sure. Have a good night, Sung Hyunje-ssi.”

Hyunje waves, lingering in the hallway long enough to note which door Yoojin disappears into, before retreating back into the apartment. He’s immediately confronted by an irate eight year old who looks at him with a level of distaste that’s comical for such a small child. “Yoojin-hyung was my friend first—you can’t have him.”

Hyunje hums, ignoring the invitation for a confrontation that Yoohyun clearly wants, and instead sweeps past him to examine the state of the rest of the apartment. “Why not?”

“Yoojin-hyung is mine.”

The first bedroom he reaches is clearly Yoohyun’s, and he only gives the messy contents a cursory glance before moving on. “What if Yoojin-ssi wants to be friends with me? Would you stop him from doing what he wants?”

In between checking the bathroom (only a single toothbrush and towel) and the hallway closet (everything still in the same place as Hyunje remembers from five years ago), he glances at Yoohyun and catches an expression of pure confusion. “Why would he want to be friends with you, though?”

Hyunje moves on to the next bedroom, striding down the hallway with brisk strides that force Yoohyun to jog to keep up with him. “He might,” he says lightly. He doesn’t recognize the bed or its covers when he steps into the room, and the dresser and desk are covered in a thick layer of dust.

“He wouldn’t.” The statement comes with such confidence that Hyunje pauses in his journey to the next room and looks down at Yoohyun. The boy stares up at him defiantly, a deep furrow between his brows.

“Yoojin-ssi is allowed to have other friends besides you,” Hyunje probes curiously.

Yoohyun immediately scowls. “No. He’s my friend.”

“Hm.” Hyunje considers the child in front of him, along with his overwhelming urge to poke the bear. “I think I’ll make him my friend too.”

“No!”

“Yes,” Hyunje replies serenely, continuing through the rest of the apartment now that he’s made his decision. The last bedroom, when he checks, is a study as equally covered in dust as the previous bedroom. He wouldn’t claim to be an expert, but it’s clear that Sung Hyunwoo and Han Eunmi have not lived here in a long time.

Curious, he thinks, that Yoojin’s parents have not bothered to report Yoohyun’s situation to any authorities despite their son’s presumably frequent visits.

“I’ll be staying for a while, Yoohyun-ah,” he says, crouching down to be eye level with the fuming boy, amused by his obvious anger. This isn’t what he expected when he came back to Korea to pay his father one final visit before neatly cutting him out of his life forever, but it’s not an entirely unwelcome surprise. He’s always been fond of mysteries. “Let’s get along, hm?”

In response, Yoohyun marches back to his room and slams the door.

#butterfirefly #sina writes #fanfiction #sctir #s classes that i raised #long post #all three of them keep their canon age gap in this #so yh’s 8 yj’s 13 and hj’s 23 #learned today that a lot of european undergrad degrees are 3 years instead of 4 #if the math for how long shj’s been out of the country seems weird pls chalk it up to me having no idea what I’m doing #me upon receiving this prompt: so how can I make this abt yoojin

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xxiamtiebrousxx · 1 year

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Hi! Uuuh I've been reading your stories for a while now and I was wondering if I could request a platonic TF2 mercenaries with a Gopnik S/O? A gopnik is basically a young and spunky Russian hoodlum, they're like scout except russian so they're annoying in some ways but still kind and quirky, if the mercs are tired or annoyed S/O usually brings something of a "Peace Offering" or well something small like a cool rock or maybe a bag of food just so the mercs don't get mad at them, S/O is chill out of battle and become friends with the mercenaries up until the mercs ask about their family lofe which suddenly S/O turns cold nd very hostile, they'll snap at the mercs until the topic is changed, its as if the very mention of fmily triggers them

One day after a long while of knowing the mercs or when S/O is drunk they spill their childhood, they had to live through poverty with their family in russia with their parents and baby sister but one day when trying to escape the country they are sent to a gulag, spending a couple of years there until they're 13 when their father gets killed during a revolt S/O, their mum and baby sister escape to the U.S, but both their mother and sister end up dying during the trip so S/O is the only one to make it to the states, their story his the mercenaries in the feels but it hits Heavy the hardest, seeing this spunky, funny and tough Gopnik cry while telling their story

You can ignore this if its to angsty I just got this idea a few minutes ago so I was wondering if you could do it

This was a little hard to write but enjoyable!

Mercs x Gopnik! Reader

A/n: Sorry if it seems I'm stereotyping, I'm not. I did a little bit of research on the internet. If there's anything incorrect, please let me know so I can correct it! WARNING: A bit angsty

Scout:

Scout found you wrestling with someone in an alley. He stopped to watch. You beat them down and took back the bread you had stolen. Scout stopped you. You cursed at him in Russian, kicked both his shins and ran away. The following day, Scout was waiting for you in the alley. You were careful to approach him. You didn’t know who he was and you didn’t trust him either. What if he was here to steal something from you or worse? You were ready to snatch his wallet away from him and run for the hills when all of a sudden, Scout pulled out some money.

“Go buy you some lunch,” he said. He stuffed the dollar bills in your hand and left. After that, you kept coming back. On some days, Scout wouldn’t be there. You thought you did something wrong, like insulting his hair or something. Probably you joke around too much about him being fatherless and he got hurt, emotionally. You didn’t like talking much about family since yours was gone. On your way to the base, you found a sparkling rock and took it. You found out he was merc long ago, but you didn’t mind. Scout was surprised you managed to find him. He rambled about your arrival, a bit annoyed about this. To shut him up about coming onto a dangerous battlefield, you gave him the rock. The plan actually worked and he shut up.

Since Scout agreed to create an allowance for you, you spent the money on paying bills and booze. He’d come over to check on you. You were rambling in Russian about something. Scout chuckled. “Enough booze for you,” he said. You smacked his hand away.

“Nyet,” you answered. “I need more.” You gulped down the last drops and wiped your mouth. “Scout, have I ever told you about how my father used liquor to clean our wounds since we couldn’t afford medical alcohol?” Now this was strange. You never, and Scout knew you never, talked about your family. During your time living in Russia, you had a baby sister, mother and father. You were poor and couldn’t afford much. Your father was part of a revolution that failed. You and your family ended up getting thrown into a gulag. Scout held your hand as you started to cry.

“We don’t have to continue, you know,” he said. You shook your head. You had to finish the story. When you were thirteen years old, your father got killed in another revolt. You managed to escape with your mother and sister. Your destination was the US, but they never made it. As a punk, you sure cried hard. Scout hugged you all night until you calmed down. He never left your side.

Soldier:

Soldier was minding his business when he heard you arguing with the baker. He was just here to pick up some bread. Soldier was not about to walk into a fight. He would join in it if it got physical, but he wouldn’t walk in on it. You slammed the entrance door and gave the baker an unkind word in Russian. Soldier didn’t think much about what just happened, but he noticed your hand reach for his back pocket. He felt a small tug and you ran off with his wallet. Soldier was furious. Engineer tried to calm him down but he was so bent on revenge, he managed to find you. His intentions changed when he saw the conditions you were living in. To help out with the rent, Soldier moved in. It took some persuasion, but you let it happen.As revenge though, you annoyed Soldier as much as you could.

“Ugh, who covered the toilet seat in mayo?!?” Soldier exclaimed. He came out of the bathroom.

“Eto byl ne ya (It wasn’t me),” you replied. Soldier fumed with anger and marched into his room, slamming the door. You did cover the toilet in mayo. You knocked on Soldier’s door after five hours of waiting for him to come out.

“Go away!” he yelled.

“I brought bread and a bucket,” you answered. It was a peace offering to make up for the mayo. The door opened. Soldier’s hand reached out for the bread and bucket, which you gave him. He calmed down. Yes, you were annoying, but you were also caring. Even if you got drunk a lot. He took care of you. Especially when you got emotional. You never liked talking about your family. Today was different. You started bawling and filling the room with tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong, cupcake?” he asked.

“I just miss my sem'ya (family) so much,” you cried. You dove into your story. Your family couldn’t afford anything. You lived in the dumps, but got by. There was hope you were going to make it to a new life. You helped save up to leave but you and your family got thrown into a gulag. It was hard. You used to be happy and cheerful once, but the gulag changed you. Your father joined some men who were planning to escape. During the revolt, he died, but you escaped with your mother and sister. They didn’t make it far though. Halfway during the trip, they succumbed to their sicknesses. You had to make it to the US alone. “And that’s why I don’t open up,” you said through tears. Soldier patted your back.

“Don’t worry my little comrade, I won’t let anyone take you away,” he said, hugging you.

Pyro:

You were trying to outrun some gangsters that were chasing you. You owed them some money you never paid back. You jumped over the fence that surrounded the base and landed on Pyro. You begged him desperately not to be burned. He scared away the gangsters and offered you a place to stay in case they came back. It was an offer you wished you could’ve denied but was forced to take. Pyro was very gentle and caring with you. You tried to scare him off with your annoying self but it didn’t work. Trying to scare him off with some cool tricks, like blowing fire out of your mouth using a match and vodka, didn’t scare him off. Pyro was amazed by that trick.

“B'yus' ob zaklad, ya drakon v drugoy zhizni (I bet I’m a dragon in another life),” you said. Pyro nodded his head. “Vhat do you think, podzhigatel (firebug)?” Pyro was a fun fella to talk to. He took interest in everything you said or brought him, like a geode you found lying around on the battlefield. He enjoyed it when you brought him flammable things. One thing he would constantly ask was about your family. You told him to shut up about it. You were mean about it. Pyro knew you were holding something back. You found you passed out on the couch, a bottle of scrumpy in hand.

“Mmph (Y/n drinks)?” Pyro took the bottle out of your hand. You mumbled something, turning to the other side.

“Pochemu ty dolzhen byl uyti (Why did you have to go)?” you asked. “Mama? Papa?” Now this was interesting. Was this the secret you refused to tell Pyro? He sat down next to you. You told your whole story as you slept. Your father used to be wealthy until he lost it all. He struggled to make ends meet. You tried your best to keep everything moving on. You were thrown into a gulag for crimes against the government. Your family soon followed. For years you suffered there, blaming yourself for everything. Your father didn’t like how you beat yourself up about that and led an unsuccessful revolt. He granted you, your mother and baby sister’s escape. You made it to the Americas. Not your first choice, but it was good. Until they got sick. It was hard to take care of your mother and sister. You turned to the mafia for money and help. You tried to get medical attention for them, but it didn’t work out. Your mother and sister died. And you owed money. If it wasn’t for Pyro, you would’ve been killed.

“Mmmph mmph,” he mumbled. Pyro stood up from the couch and gave you a kiss on your forehead. When you woke up, you found the same geode Pyro had given you on the coffee table with a note that read, “Stay strong.”

Demo:

You both met at the bar. Demoman was just walking in when you kicked some drunk to the otherside of the room. You had started a bar fight and got away. Demo followed you through the back door. It was just a distraction to get free booze without getting caught. To keep Demo silent, you gave him half your earnings. You hoped to never see Demoman again after that, but he kept coming back. It got annoying. He would always ask for an equal share. You were selfish, you didn’t want to share. At first, you stood up on a crate and raised some bottles over your head. Demo, half drunk, couldn’t reach for the bottles. But you’d always give him his share and run away.

“Bye, you one-eyed korol’ (king)!” you would always yell. Heavy taught Demo the meaning behind his nickname. He’d always wonder why’d you call him king.

“Heya.”

“Privet (hello).” You and Demoman quickly became friends over the course of two months. He’d ramble about his mom back in Scotland, which angered you. You always asked him to shut up about his family. One night at the bar, Demo had to carry you home. You had him come over once or twice in the past and this happened several times. He knew what to do. “Mama…” you groaned. This was strange. You never mentioned or called out for your parents. People eyed Demo. You were crying now. He didn’t want to seem suspicious, so he made the trip back home quick.

“Wake up Y/n,” he said. Your eyes fluttered open. They were red from crying. “What’s wrong?” Demo asked.

“It’s uh, nothing,” you replied.

“C’mon lad, you can tell me.” You sighed.

“They uh, they’ve been dead for a long time.” You told Demo what happened. Your parents used to be rich until they lost it all. You used to be a weak child who got sick all the time. It got worse when you and your family were thrown into a gulag. It was hard there. You were constantly sick. Your father knew you wouldn’t survive. He, alongside your mother, managed to pull an elaborate plan and escaped. You were thirteen when you and thousands escaped. Your mother and father were shot by guards and never made it out. It was just you and your little sister. This time, you weren’t the one sick. She was struck with terrible sickness. She could’ve made it to America, but she didn’t. She passed away before you arrived at New Mexico’s border. Now you were here being comforted by Demoman. He was a good friend.

Heavy:

Heavy knew immediately what your situation was. You were caught sneaking around on the base’s premises. You were a good fighter. You struggled your way out before Heavy came in and gave you a big squeeze that finally defeated you. He was a good hugger. Heavy promised to look after you and make sure you didn’t get into more trouble. You tried to escape several times with no hope. You even touched Sasha! This got annoying quickly. Heavy was stressed out more than usual. You felt bad. This man was working hard to make sure you had a somewhat perfect life. You decided to make it up to Heavy.

“Vot, ya poluchil eto dlya vas (Here, I got this for you),” you said, holding out your hand. In your hand was a small package. Heavy took the gift from your hand. Inside the package was a small glowing orb. You stole it from Merasmus and got away safely. The orb could grant anyone protection.

“Spasbio (thank you), Y/n,” Heavy replied. You smirked.

“I hate spheres,” you said. “Vhy do they even exist? There’s no point.” Heavy laughed at your joke. You were funny when you weren’t annoying Heavy. You were actually good at repairing weapons. You were now allowed to touch any of Heavy’s guns to fix them.

There were times when Heavy would write to his family. You would get very hostile, sometimes you were just angry. Heavy had a hunch you had some reason behind your drop-of-a-hat anger. One day, Heavy caught you crying. It was just after he finished sending mail to his family. He sat down on the bed next to you and patted your back. He noticed a photo in your hand.

“Mozhete li vy skazat' mne, chto sluchilos' (Can you tell me what’s wrong)?” he asked.

“No, I don’t want to tell you,” you replied. Heavy sighed.

“Let me guess, was it a gulag that took them?” he asked. You looked away. “Y/n, Otvet' mne (answer me).”

“It vas,” you answered quietly. Your father was a thief. It wasn’t his fault though. He needed to steal to provide for his family. He was trying to escape the country, but got caught and as punishment, you and your family were thrown into a gulag. You worked many nights and days. You were only a child. Your sister was born there without knowing what the real world was like. Your father blamed himself for your misfortunes. Several men in the gulag planned a revolt. He was killed in the battle. You escaped with your mother and sister. You were only thirteen and you were fourteen when your remaining family died. You had to make it to America alone.

Heavy was crying when you finished your story. He knew what it was like to lose someone. He knew what it was like to suffer there. Heavy hugged you. He would never allow someone to hurt you again.

Engineer:

Engineer wasn’t expecting to get his wallet stolen while shopping at the hardware store. You had gone in, seeing Engy had a wad of money stuck in his pocket. He wasn’t paying attention. You kept your distance and pretended to look at stuff. Engineer didn’t notice you in time when you stole his wallet. A punk like you wouldn’t get away with it. Engineer spent days trying to find you. He found you arguing with a group of people. You flipped them off and cursed in Russian. You were injured from a fight you previously had before arguing with the gang.

“Hey partner,” Engineer said. You stopped in your tracks, rolling your eyes.

“Vhat do you want?” you asked, turning around. “U menya net vremeni, tak chto sdelay eto bystro (I don’t have time so make it quick).”

“Can Ah get my money back?” he asked. You laughed, wiping a tear.

“Oh, leetle man, I already used it,” you answered. “But, if you want, I can get it back for you.” And indeed you did. After two weeks, you got Engineer back his money. You had made a profit shining shoes and snatching loose change off your customers. Engineer was quite surprised. He thought you were just going to run off and never return. “Schastliv, inzhener (Happy, engineer)?” You began to bring Engineer things. You’d sneak onto the battlefield to give him screws he could use or paintings you put on his sentries.

“So, do you have any family?” This was a question that made you punch a dispenser hard.

“Don’t ask that again,” you growled. Engineer was taken aback. You were usually chill and goofy, not hostile. He was curious though. Why did the mention of family anger you? He kept asking and asking and asking, until one day you finally snapped. “Otlichno! Ty khochesh' znat'? Nu, ugadayte chto! Moya sem'ya mertva (Fine! You want to know? Well, guess what! My family is dead)!” you yelled. Tears streamed down your cheeks. Engineer had poked the beehive. The Texan gave you a hug as you cried into his shoulder. You wailed about how you lived your entire life poor. Your parents worked hard to escape. Patrol guards caught you leaving and threw you into a gulag. Your parents tried to break you out but they got thrown into the gulag as well. You worked hard, devising a plan to escape, but never actually put it in motion. Your father found the plans and put it into motion. He escaped with you, but died due to his wounds. Your mother made sure you and your sister were on the boat out of there. You kept in touch with her, but your mother soon passed away from sickness. You and your sister lived in New Mexico for a while. There was a shooting though and your sister was killed. You were alone, until you met Engineer. He patted your back and dried your tears.

“There, there, honeybee,” he said in a calming voice. “Ain’t no one gonna hurt ya anymore.”

Medic:

“Otpusti menya, sumasshedshiy doktor (Let me go, you insane doctor)!” Medic carried your screaming self over his shoulder. He had caught you stealing medicine from his cabinet and selling it on the streets as drugs. He was very angry. You never thought you would get caught, but now the entire team watched as you kicked your arms and legs while being carried to the medbay. Medic decided to take you on as an apprentice so you could make up for how much medicine you stole. You didn’t like it one bit. You were dragged along to battles.

“Watch and learn,” Medic would always say. While he went off to harvest organs, you went off to search for cool stuff. You “found” some delicious baked goods and brought it back to Medic as a snack. He appreciated this. Unfortunately, you got caught stealing the food and you were almost thrown in jail. You cracked your knuckles, rolled up your sleeves, and learned how to bake. Medic enjoyed eating your treats.

“Baking is a whisky business,” you said with a smile. You always cracked jokes about your baking (or Medic’s medical license) that had him laughing loudly all the time. All boozed up, you were funnier. But even boozed up, you told secrets you never wanted to tell anyone. Medic would never mention the word “family.” The first time he said it, you freaked out. He dared to never mention or ask about your family ever again, until one particular night. Medic was returning late from a last minute mission. You were drinking a little too much that night.

“Guten abend (Good evening), Y/n,” he said, closing the medbay door. He had finished telling Scout good night.

“Znayete, vy kak odna bol'shaya sem'ya (You know, you are like one big family),” you slurred. “You’re lucky.”

“Vhat do jou mean?” Tears started welling up in your eyes.

“I-I used to have family too,” you said. You were crying out an ocean now. Medic rushed over and started patting your back.

“Calm down Y/n,” he said. “Vhat happened?” You explained you used to live in a gulag. Your mother had to take care of your sickly father. He wasn’t working and your mother couldn’t get a job. The family couldn’t pay off debts and so you were forced to work in a gulag. You were thirteen when your father and mother worked together to bust the family out. Your father was the distraction while your mother took you and your sister out of the country. Your father was killed in the action. Your mother was wounded, so was your sister. They never left the country. You were on your own. Medic handed you a tissue. “Don’t cry,” he whispered softly. He wiped your tears. “Jou have me now, I won’t let anything happen to Jou, I swear.”

Sniper:

Sniper went into town to get some takeout for the team. They were getting ravenous for food. You were lying in an alley, wounded. You had previously fought a gang that owed you money. You lost the fight, but at least you got your money back. Sniper was walking back when he noticed you on the ground. Your stomach was rumbling loudly, that’s the first thing he noticed. You were wiggling your limp body to the trash can, hoping you could lift yourself up from there. Sniper approached you. You looked up at the hunter and frowned.

“Chto vam nuzhno (what do you need)?” you asked.

“Need help?” Sniper asked. You shook your head. Your stomach roared again. “Seems you’re hungry, mate.” You noticed the food in his hand.

“Give me a fry, will you?” you asked. Sniper grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to your feet. You ate everyone’s food on the way back to the base. From there, Medic tended to your wounds. Sniper returned you back home. He never thought you’d find out where he worked and visit him. He was scouting the area with his scope when he found you roaming around, a lunch box in hand. He waved you up to his nest. You apparently brought Sniper homemade food to make up for the dinner he gave you. You came every afternoon with food. Sometimes it was takeout or leftovers from the previous meals. In your lunch box were words scratched into it. It read “Priyatnogo obeda. Lyubite mamu i papu (Have a delightful lunch. Love mama and papa).” Sniper asked you about the writing. You got angry and threw the lunch box at the wall. It was damaged a bit. Sniper had it repaired for you.

“Hey, mate, it’s me,” he said. It took two weeks to get it fixed and now he was returning it to you. You opened the door and hunched against the doorway.

“Vhat?” you asked. You looked at the lunch box in Sniper’s hand. “Come in.” There were bottles of beer littered everywhere. You were drunk. “Oh hey, you have Mama and Papa.” You took the lunch box out of Sniper’s hand. You started sniffing. “I haven’t seen them in forever…” You started to cry. “It’s been so long,” you sobbed. Sniper awkwardly hugged you.

“Do you need to talk?” he asked. He didn’t know how to deal with these kinds of situations. You started wailing about your life. It didn’t seem like it, but you grew up poor as a child. You were happy, with your family. Life seemed perfect. But then you and your family were placed in a gulag. You had to work to pay off your debts. You tried to make the best of it. There was a revolt planned by other workers. Your father didn’t want anything to do with it. You used the attack to your advantage. Your father made sure your mother, sister, and you escaped. That was the last time you saw him. Your mother carried you and your sister to freedom. She didn’t make the trip. Your sister died just as you arrived in America. You never wanted to go back. Sniper sighed. “We don’t need to talk about this if you want,” he said. You wiped a tear. A heavy burden was lifted off your shoulders.

“Na samom dele, ya by khotel, chtoby vy pozvolili mne pogovorit' o nikh. Ya budu chuvstvovat' sebya luchshe (Actually, I'd like it if you let me talk about them. I'll feel better about it),” you replied. Sniper smiled and nodded.

Spy:

He was not going to deal with another punk. Scout was hard enough to deal with. You were yelling at Spy and cursing in Russian. He had bumped into you and didn’t say sorry. It was annoying. He just walked away. Unfortunately, he found you again wrestling with some other punk. Spy decided to ignore this. You were losing the battle though. You were yelling for help. Spy sighed and turned around. He stabbed the other punk and dragged him into an alley.

“Pft, I didn’t need your help,” you said, standing up.

“Whatever,” he replied, walking away. After that, Spy made it his duty to watch over you. You knew he was there. You constantly yelled at him to leave you alone. He wouldn’t leave. Eventually, you started bringing Spy stuff you found on the streets. You found simple things, like marbles, old shoe laces, loose change (that you probably stole, Spy assumed), free gift cards (again, that you probably stole), and free, abandoned furniture! You brought it in and built forts with it. Spy proved to be an expert builder at forts. You two were like father and child. It brought back memories (and regrets). But you started to shut out Spy. He wondered why.

He found you drunk, roaming around the streets after returning home from work. This wasn’t a shocker to him. You were usually drunk. Drunker than Demoman. It worried the Spy sometimes. He didn’t mind carrying you home. “Come Y/n, you need to be home,” he said. You snatched your hand away from Spy’s grip.

“Nyet (no),” you slurred. You pointed a shaky finger at him. “You’re not my father and you never will be. My father is (Father’s name)!” you exclaimed. You started to cry. “On umer! On umer, spasaya menya (He’s dead! He died saving me).” Your father used to be a wealthy man, but he gave it all up for your mother. Your family wasn’t rich and that was okay. You didn’t see why the men dragged you away to that cold desolate place they called a gulag. Why did you have to work? Why did you have to suffer? Your father was working a small job so why did this happen? You were thirteen when you escaped with your mother and sister. You didn’t know what your father had planned out. All you remember was running away. But your sister and mother didn’t make it far before they got shot down. You were told to keep running. You never looked back. You knew you would never see your family again. Spy understood why you were ignoring him. You didn’t want to get hurt again. And he was going to make sure you weren’t going to get hurt ever again.

#team Fortress 2 X Reader #Tf2 X Reader #Team Fortress 2 X Reader One Shots #Tf2 X Reader One Shots #angst #Fluff #One Shots #Action #tf2 #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 Pyro #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper

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