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berriweb · 10 months

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╰┈➤ ❝ wrong place, wrong time ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. miles morales x reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. brief description of reader’s injuries

: ̗̀➛ part two / part four

: ̗̀➛ a/n. y’all are way more into this than i expected LMAOAOAO and I totally didn’t pick tostones bc that’s what i was eating while i wrote this (im lying) also here’s a daily reminder that I don’t proof read bc im lazy

Blood. Cologne, air freshener, and the familiar scene of a laundry detergent you could never guess from a specific brand you never remember.

As your brain filled with thoughts and you became more aware of your surroundings, you took note of the first smells you picked up as you awakened. Unlike what was expected, you weren’t lying on another cold, hard and rough surface. You were in a bed, a comfy one at that, sinking into the mattress and covered with a blanket so soft you were tempted to act like you hadn’t regained consciousness and fall right back asleep in it’s warmth, snuggling further into the sheets and willing yourself to forget you ever woke up. But you knew better.

Memories of what had recently occurred flashed through your head without warning and you lost all desire to go back to sleep. Maybe you were right, maybe it was just an incredibly outrageous nightmare?

You shot up without thinking and your head almost immediately missed the comfort of the pillow, pain shooting through your temple so sudden that for a moment you feared you’d pass out again. Gritting your teeth, your hands hurriedly reached to rub your forehead in an attempt to dull the headache brought upon you while ignoring the aching in your side. Once it was tolerable again, you opened your eyes and almost felt a sense of relief wash over you.

You were in Miles’ bed, hence the familiar scent you’d initially smelled. His bed was made, surprising considering how messy he normally was. It was a struggle to ever find your way out of his messy sheets, a neat bed was unlike him.

…a neat bed was unlike him. This isn’t Miles’ room.

The art on the walls was unfamiliar, the posters were in different places and some of the clothes scattered around were different colors than you remembered. Not only that, there weren’t any of the pictures you two had taken together pinned to the walls like before. In it’s place were print outs of news articles and pictures of you that you’d never seen before. You’d never posed like that, you’d never been to that restaurant, you’d never worn those clothes.

That wasn’t you and this wasn’t Miles’ room, but if it wasn’t his then who was that sitting in the corner?

You eyed the desk and the dark figure sitting hunched over in the chair beside it, seemingly asleep by the way his head rested on his crossed arms and his back seconds at a time with every inhale. Carefully, both for the sake of being sneaky and not hurting yourself, you removed the blanket and pushed yourself out of bed, being careful as you stood and took another quick look around the room. You made your way to the door, being used to knowing which spots to avoid in order to keep quick, but the loud creaking sound of wood when you stepped on a certain spot of the floor made you freeze.

You looked back, and thankfully the figure went back to sleep after a moment stirring, but you found yourself still stuck in place when you took a closer look at the person.

It was Miles, or at least looked exactly like your boyfriend. From his nose to his jaw and the arch in his eyebrows, the boy was practically identical in every way, but you knew it couldn’t have been him, he wasn’t yours. You guessed that he must’ve been tired, there were eye bags big enough to carry groceries even with his eyes closed, and contrary to how peaceful you always admired Miles’ appearance when he slept, this one had his brows furrowed and a slight frown on his face. Not to mention the obvious inconsistent hairstyle, though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the look of the braids on him. Maybe if you ever got back home you’d ask him to try it out.

Home.

You left the room without a second thought, the bathroom thankfully still being where you remembered. Rushing in without a second though, you pushed the door behind you and your hand searched for the light, flipping the switch and slowly turning on the faucet to splash water on your face in a weak attempt to gain some awareness. When you looked up into the mirror you could better understand the constant headaches. Two layers of bandages were wrapped around your head with a small hint of red being seen underneath. You’d likely hit your head when you first hit the ground and hadn’t noticed.

Lifting your shirt up, there were matching bandages wrapped around most of your abdomen, understandable considering the trouble it’d given you earlier. It was more bearable, but you’d probably be uncomfortable for a long while.

You missed Miles.

You hated to admit it, you really did, especially knowing how you left things off the last time you saw him, but you really did. He wasn’t always the best problem solver, but he was damn good at taking your mind off things and you’d always appreciated him for it. You missed his nerdy speeches about comic stories he read, you missed his corny jokes and his goofy expressions, you even missed the hour long rants he’d go on, rambling to you about how much he needed to go to his dream college and study what he loved, and how of course you’d be there with him.

You let your mind wander as your fingers absentmindedly ran over fabric of the bandages, only for your hand to fall still as your train of thought came to a sudden halt. What was it Miles said he always wanted to study?

If there was a visual description of your thought process you were sure you would’ve seen the gears turned and the wires connecting in your head to light the bulb you were ashamed to admit had been unlit for an embarrassingly long time.

“I’m in another dimension!” You declared, admittedly louder than you’d planned for, the nasty ache in your head returning to cause you more distress. Your hands held your head until the throbbing eased up and you could lift your head with more relief. That would certainly make all of the inconsistencies explainable in your mind, as well as the portal. It wasn’t answering all of your questions, but you’d take what you could get for now. Was this really possible? If so, how did you end up here?

“Are the bandages too tight?”

Saying you jumped out of your skin would be an understatement. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned around, bringing a hand up to rest on your chest above where your heart rate spiked, back flush against the counter. Your gaze met a familiar pair of gorgeously brown eyes, the same tired ones you noticed earlier, and your assumption seemed to be right. It didn’t seem that late into the night from the window you’d passed when leaving the room, late afternoon at best, making you wonder what could’ve left him looking so exhausted. The differences were more noticeable with him awake, he didn’t carry the same energetic stance your boyfriend always seemed to have when he was around you. His posture was stiff, even with him leaning lazily against the doorframe, arms crossed and an unreadable expression. He wasn’t exactly a mess, in fact he seemed far more put together than yours based off of his energy alone, but something was missing.

“Did I scare you?” What do you think? “Sorry, you left the door open so I kinda thought…sorry.”

Another difference. Miles had an accent you almost immediately caught onto. It took you slightly by surprise, but you would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t like it.

You let yourself relax as your heart returned to a normal pace, but kept your distance out of nothing but caution. “I- no, it’s fine, I should’ve closed the door. And they aren’t too tight.”

The room fell into an awkward silence and you found yourself shifting from foot to foot, unsure of what to say. It was a bit hard to not be uncomfortable when Miles’ eyes were practically staring holes into you. It wasn’t exactly in a creepy way, more or less as if he were studying you and your every movement, waiting for you to say or do something wrong, like he knew you didn’t belong here. How were you supposed to react? Casually tell him you were from another universe and expect him not to think you were crazy?

“…are you hungry?” Miles broke the silence with a question so casual it made you rethink whether or not the tension had just been there. He pushed himself off of the doorframe and turned around, gesturing for you to follow him without giving you a chance to answer your question. You weren’t going to fight it, considering your stomach was actually begging you for something to eat, so you obliged and followed him.

It was almost as if there were an unspoken rule forbidding you from speaking or asking questions, something in your gut just told you to play along and ask questions later. He pulled up a chair for you at the table and you quietly thanked him for it as he returned from the kitchen with two plates and a comment about how his mom had leftover tostones. “I remember they used to be your favorites.”

Well that sentence wasn’t very assuring. Especially with the narrowed look he gave you when you sheepishly agreed.

The silence that you fell into gave you a moment to yet again try to process everything going on, but on top of wrapping the idea of suddenly ending up in a completely universe (which was only the case if your theory was true, and you had no way of finding out whether or not that was true), you couldn’t bring yourself to not focus on how unsettling the way he acted was.

You could compare the feeling to spending weeks learning a school subject only for the test to cover absolutely nothing that you learned. Being able to read Miles was like second nature to you know, you two went hand in hand. Years of experience practically made you a connoisseur at knowing how your boyfriend was feeling or what he was thinking without you having to say it, and vice versa, but this wasn’t the same. It was as if someone had taken your Miles and replaced his mannerisms with a complete strangers, it might as well have been a cardboard cut out.

He kept his eyes trained on you the entire time without so much as a word, the same uneasiness in his gaze that made you lose most of your appetite and leave you nibbling at your food. You wanted to believe he was content, but his face was twisted in a way that made you think he had something against you. You couldn’t help but still admire his features, it was still your boyfriends face after all, but this wasn’t your boyfriend. The lack of conversation was agonizing but you couldn’t figure out how to start a conversation while in the house of a stranger you’d never met. You blamed him for making the aura so strained.

Clearing your throat, a stupid attempt to get his attention considering it never left, you guilty pushed away the rest of your mostly full plate to signal that you were finished and trying to break the silence, but he beat you to it. “…so-”

“Why are you acting like this?”

You weren’t certain that it was intentional, the malice in his tone, but the manner in which he hissed out his words was enough to momentarily shut you up, leaving you sitting there with a stunned expression to counter the frustration he’d let show itself on his face.

“Acting like…what?”

Suddenly your previous thoughts were proven wrong. This Miles may not have had the same actions you knew as well as with yours, but you’d be a fool not to see the irritation—and that was an understatement—on his face. His jaw was clenched, the hands that’d previously been picking away at cracks in the table now hidden under the table, but you were willing to bet that they were balled up into fists. Without warning you’d been put under a beaming spotlight and unexpectedly became the victim of his interrogation, feeling somewhat guilty for something you weren’t even sure you did towards a person you did not know.

“Are you for real?” Part of you wanted to talk back with the same condescending tone, arguing that he had some nerve getting on your case when you had no part in whatever beef or grudge he held against what you assumed to be your counterpart. “You disappear for over a year, no notice or anything!” The context made you want to believe he was angry at you, but the strain in his voice told you otherwise. Had you hurt him?

“I thought you were dead!” His brows knitted together tight enough to highlight the vein in his forehead, teeth clenched together with such tense posture as he half pushed himself out of his seat to lean forward on the table that you wondered whether or not he was giving himself a headache from the stress. “Do you know how long I searched for you? And then you had the fucking nerve to show up at my house like nothing in your state? What’s your deal?”

It was like you were a child getting scolded for coming home last curfew, but listening to him go on and on with zero context to the situation was irking you. You could at least try to make sense of it, and snapping back might not have been the best way to go about it, as tempting as it was.

“I don’t know.”

He paused, and for a split second you couldn’t tell if he was going to curse you out for playing dumb or keep ranting about your supposed insensitivity, but after a moment of silence he let himself fall back into his seat, hands retreating to his sides as his face fell, thankfully into a more neutral expression. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“What, you need me to spell it out for you in another language? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hissed, admittedly more harsh than you’d intended. Miles didn’t seem offended by it, in fact the revelation seemed to do the opposite as you could’ve sworn a defeated look crossed his face. The knot in your stomach was unnerving, you weren’t used to seeing him like this. Whether it was your Miles or not, it was off putting. “You…don’t remember?”

You shook your head yes, which seemed to be the answer he wasn’t hoping for. Miles clicked his tongue and pressed his lips together, and his slumped shoulders were more than enough of an indicator that whatever he was going on about was more serious than you expected.

“You still came back, you knew where to find me, didn’t you? Uncle Aaron told me so himself, he knew you were following him. What do you remember?”

There was disappointment in his tone, and suddenly regardless of your own situation, you felt pity for him. The looming reminder that this wasn’t your boyfriend kept you from wanting to express that pity as you normally would’ve, but even then you couldn’t help but feel bad for doing so. You had no clue what his situation or intentions was, but his story clearly had it’s fair share of negatives and even if you wanted to believe you didn’t really know him, he was starting to remind you of your boyfriend. You were feeling more guilty for unconsciously convince yourself that he wasn’t Miles than anything else, who were you to decide that?

Now it felt like you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. No matter how guilty you felt, you had no idea about what he was going on about. Would going along with it make you a bad person? Should you just admit you weren’t even who he thought you were and pray he doesn’t immediately turn hostile? Who’s to say that’s how he’d even react? You weren’t heartless, just up and leaving felt criminal. No matter the previous harshness, he clearly still had some level of empathy if he was willing to take you home and care for your wounds, not to mention feeding you too.

“I remember you.”

Maybe playing along for a while wouldn’t hurt, at least to figure out what was going on. Can’t hurt to mention the basics. “And…I remember your friends! And your Uncle, obviously.” You glanced around the room for a moment, taking note of a lot of the family pictures on the walls with Miles and his mother. “And your mom, I love her, she’s- was, always so nice to me, her food is to die for. And your dad-”

“My dad is dead.”

The attempt you made to ease the tension and slightly lighten the mode was abruptly cut short with that sentence. You temporarily lost your voice and your chest tightened, eyes going wide. Miles’ eyes bored into your own, voice heavy as he dropped the fact with an unreadable expression, as if he’d done so to see if he could catch you off guard with that fact, and it worked. “I…” Saying that would explain a lot seemed like an insult in and of itself, yet it’s what came to mind, surprising at it was. You didn’t think the differences in this world could be so major, but you clearly didn’t know to what extent another universe could go to. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t remember that either, did you?” Miles chuckled dryly, but you didn’t see any humor in what he said. He took your silence as an answer and you took note of his now avoidance in meeting your eyes, instead turning away to look at one of the hung photos on the way.

“What about that day? Do you remember that the last time I saw you was the day he died?”

His voice was low and monotoned, and you hated how you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. You could guess, you could assume how he felt and try to predict what he’d say next, but there was no way of knowing for sure. The unpredictability of his actions was maddening. As you watched him you couldn’t help but constantly compare.

A scowl doesn’t look good on him. Smiles always suited him better. You hated to be the reason he wasn’t showing it off.

“Do you remember that you were the reason he died?”

You hated it more than you thought.

╰┈➤ ❝ tag-list ❞

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#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv fanfiction #atsv #atsv x reader #spider man #miles morales #miles g morales #miles g #miles morales prowler #prowler miles #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales #miles 42 #e42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader

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klwrites · 6 months

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Young love 3/3 (Damian Wayne x reader)

Damian struggles to cope with the anxiety of your situation as the rest of the Wayne family still cannot understand how their boy ran away with a girl.

-> part two

“So, you put her in ice, and that made the fire go out?”

Dick tried to understand. Bruce had told him this mission would be very dangerous, with possible brain washing and mind games involved, but he just saw two young people in a hotel room recovering from a traumatic event.

“Yes.”

“Her body needs to go to parasympathetic mode to stop the flames?”

“Because cold water exposure activates the vagus nerve which slows down her breathing and heart rate,”

Damian explained,

“It freezes your body so you physically can’t panic anymore. These flames all seem panic induced.”

Damian wanted to take you back to his house where they could keep eyes on you, and help you manage your powers. He couldn’t tell you that yet though. You were waiting in the hotel room while they talked in the hallway. You laid in bed weak, every time you close your eyes you could see through the perspectives of your dying flames, and it hurt.

“That seems like luck, Damian, Bruce is not very trusting of her right now, I doubt he’ll take her in.”

“It wasn’t luck!” Damian yelled.

That statement specifically pissed him off. It wasn’t luck, when he felt your hand on his face he could tell exactly how you felt, and exactly what you needed. That’s not luck.

“Whatever it was, good luck explaining yourself to Bruce, I’m getting a room next door. Let me know when you’re ready to go and what the plan is.”

Damian returned to the room and slammed the door. What now? Damian hadn’t thought of that. You had no life to return to, and he could help that. But is that weird? Is that necessary?

Damian had start to become a little self aware toward the “bias” towards you he has, and didn’t want to come off strong.

I’ll just give her some money and my number, and leave.

“(Your name)?”

You were asleep again, your life was living through the flames and there wasn’t enough energy for it all. You were weak and recovering. Damian looked at you for a moment, and looked off into nothing with a sad gaze.

I can’t leave her.

However, he snapped out of it, and quickly gathered up money for you prepared with a note. The Wayne boy couldn’t think of what to say, what wouldn’t be overwhelming, but decided on a simple

- Damian

Damian zipped his bag, and while he put it on he took a moment to stare at you finally at peace.

I want her to keep that peace

How could you do that without him?

What would that money even do?

Damian declined those thoughts and declared them irrational, and quickly turned and slipped out the door. He knocked on Dicks door,

“One second!” Dick called.

Damian waited.

Has she seen the money yet?

Damian worried you would think about when he said he wouldn’t leave you until this was over, would you hold that against him?

Damian huffed at his thoughts, and banged on the door again.

“I said I was coming!”

Damian pictured you, lost, looking for him.

Would she even know where she is?

He started to get angry with his brain for not shutting up about you.

Why should I even care? She burnt down my city and made me shoot my father. I should bring her to Arkham asylum.

You weren’t his problem, so he wished he’d stop worrying.

Dicks “second” was starting to feel like too many eternities with infinite worries about you, so Damian turned around. He just wanted to quiet his brain, he’d tell himself.

Damian started to run as fast as he could, unable to bare the thought of you being worried any longer. Not to mention what if you got scared and started a fire?

I never even told her what I did to fix this.

Damian ran faster, he nearly missed the door where you laid. He shakily tried to slide the key in, but missed a few times before getting it right. His chest was so tight.

And there you were, asleep.

He felt a little stupid, and it made him angry. No one’s made him feel like this, it would be dangerous to keep you around if he’d keep acting this way, he thought.

But then again, leaving you lost would be completely immoral, he thought.

Damian set his bag down and sighed. Why, for the first time ever, is his emotions getting in the way?

“(Your Name)?” He called.

Secretly, he enjoyed even the thought of your name. He was captivated by finally learning your name. Damian stood over your bed watching for you to wake, but you didn’t.

Damian felt solely devastated. Defeated.

His voice stuttered your name again.

Nothing.

Dick then entered the room with his bag packed, ready to go.

“Damian? Ready?” Dick knocked on the door while entering the room to find his younger brother on his knees, at a loss for words.

“Damian? Damian, what happened?” Dick rushed to your side.

Damian sat there sobbing, unable to look while Dick observed nearly every inch of your body. He paused his search and stared at your face. It was vaguely familiar.

“Damian, stay right here.”

Dick exited the room, and dashed to the hotel lobby, where his eyes instantly landed on his target.

“Kori! Don’t go!”

Kori turned from the front desk, where she had been checking out of her and Dicks room. Last night Dick was sure to mention his free time alone to her, so she obviously came.

Kori sped to Dick, worried.

“Please, follow me.”

Damian sat still, in shock. The past few days had been completely rushed, unplanned and unwarned. He was on auto pilot the whole week. Now he was just trying to process, process for any mistakes, any answers to this.

The door opened, and his eyes widened in confusion to see Kori running in.

“You’re right.” She said to Dick.

“She looks Tameranian.”

“That would explain the fires.” Dick said, looking into Damian’s eyes.

“Let me try to fix this.” Kori grabbed your forearm, so hers was adjacent to yours

Damian quickly stood up to watch, his jaw dropped.

What kind of miracle would that be?

He continued standing quietly, worriedly watching you. He tried not to get his hopes up either.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud blood curdling scream, he looked up at you.

You’re eyes, glowing green and wide. Cracks in your skin glowed like lava was underneath. The room was warm from the heat of you and kori’s powers, the heat created a wind softly blowing everyone’s hair.

Damian stared in awe at your beauty, even with death two seconds behind you your beauty was more radiant then ever.

Kori let go, and spoke a sentence to you in Tameranian, everyone watched intensely for your reply.

“It appears she has a rare disease that only Tameranians can develop, it causes uncontrollable outbursts of fire when (Your name) emotions are heightened.” Bruce told Damian, Kori, and Dick.

They ended up taking you to the manor to compare your blood to Kori’s and found the disease in the analysis. You were in and out of sleep most of the day, still very weak. Damian and used this time to really get to know you. He realize he could manage these feelings if he handled it right, and he did not want to mess up.

You learned a lot about Damian too, you guys would often compare sketches, or go out to find things to sketch together. You two were out one day sketching some stray cats that gathered in an alley to eat.

“Oh my gosh.. they’re so cute.” You reached your hand forwards to make peace with the animal. The kitty accepted your love fast. Without any noise coming from Damian you continued to pet the cat, neglecting your sketch. Your petting session was cut as the car walked away from you, your eyes followed the cat. The cat walked up to Damian and rubbed her cheek on his knee.

You started to giggle, all the cats in the alleyway were all over Damian, and he was completely engulfed in their affection. You never took him as the caring for an animal type, but it makes perfect sense now. You quickly reached for your pencil and paper, and began to sketch Damian playing with the kittens.

Who knew burning down the school could be the best things that’s ever happened to you?

You both returned to the manor after an hour, so Kori could help you with fighting and learning to control your powers. Today she wanted you to spar Damian, which was your first time sparring anyone other then her.

You two circled each other, then you lunged at him. When you missed you both giggled. Damian playfully shoved your shoulder,

“Is that all you got?”

You playfully shoved him back, but harder, which turned into a full on play fight. You both were snickering the entire time.

“How does it feel, Bruce?” Dick asked, keeping his eyes on you two.

“I don’t know what your referring too.”

“This entire time you think this sweet girl is kidnapped your son, but no, Damian ran away with a girl he’s obviously got feelings for.”

“I had every reason to believe what I believed.” Bruce confidently stated.

“Just admit it, you were blinded by your fatherly instincts.”

“The two are definitely going to go places together.” Kori smiled, looking at Dick. “They remind me of someone…”

Bruce sighed. “I fell in-love once when I was young too. I could tell all along it was just the young love seeping into Damian skull that made him leave. I just wanted to protect him from those feelings. They don’t end well for The Wayne’s.”

“Quit being a Debby downer.” Dick jokingly hit Bruce’s arm.

The three turned their attention back to you and Damian. Your eyes focused on each other. Smiling.

Okaaaayy I didn’t expect people to like this story so much!!! Thank you guys!!! And obviously nothing is ever really over so maybe if one of you guys have a good idea for book 2, I’ll be all over it. You guys would be suprised to hear this whole story came from trying to include Damian with some animals. I made a lot of it up as I went, suprised you guys liked it! Love you guys lots! I thrive off of comments, so pleaseeee tell me what you think!

#batman #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #batmom #damian wayne x reader #dc x reader #robin x you #damian wayne x you #damian wayne

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lfghughes · 7 months

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love your work :)

i was wondering if you could write like friends to lovers w nico with like a ton of tension 🙏🙏

im so obsessed with this man its unhealthy

a/n: friends to lovers is def my thing. im a true sucker for these plots.

You had been friends with Nico for years now and even though you two hadn’t grown up together sometimes it felt like you had. He was one of those people that once you two had started talking it had felt like you had known each other for ages. He had been there for you through a lot of your big life changes and you had been there for him through the ups and downs of his life. Recently you had moved out to the city and between your schedule and his schedule you didn’t get to see him as often as you’d like.

Right now it had felt like forever since you had last seen Nico and that was probably because it had been forever. For the summer he had gone back home for a little bit and you had stayed distracted at work. But now with the summer coming to an end he was officially back in New Jersey and both of you had already made plans for you to come by in the weekend to see him. The best part about your friendship was the fact that no matter how many weeks you two went without seeing each other or talking, it was so easy to jump back in.

The weekend had finally gotten here and now with most of the boys back they had all decided to go out and you had driven in from the city to go see Nico specifically, although you were pretty decent friends with some of the other boys that had been around for a few seasons. The night had started off great but as the night kept on progressing you noticed a small thing that started bothering you a little.

One thing about going out with a hockey team was that you were bound to get a lot of attention, girls would come over to talk to the boys and guys would come over for the same. Every once in a while you’d get a guy express some interest in you but their interest usually disappeared once Nico would come over to you. That was something that was currently happening. “Do you want a drink?” A random guy had asked but before you could even get an answer out Nico had answered for you. “She’s good.” And jus like that he had moved his body between yours and the guy who had come up to you.

Slowly throughout the night you started picking up more and more on little things like that and you didn’t know why suddenly Nico was playing this protective role over you because last you had checked he wasn’t your boyfriend. Not that you particularly would mind that but Nico had always made it clear that he didn’t have an interest in you romantically so you weren’t going to express your small little crush to him.

A huff escaped your lips as Nico once again made his way into another conversation between you and another guy at the bar. “You’re being annoying.” You told him and his eyebrows furrowed at you. “What do you mean?” He asked and you waved your hand to the people around you. “Any guy that tries to talk to me you scare off.” All he did was shrug at those words which only annoyed you more. “I think it’s time for me to go home.”

So maybe you were being a little over dramatic but it was late and you were tired and cranky. You exited out the door of the bar and started towards your car. “Wait..” You heard Nico’s voice come up from behind you and even though you wanted to keep going you paused and turned around. “I’m not in the mood, Nico.” You told him but before you could even turn back around his hands had gone to the side of your face, cupping your cheeks and suddenly his lips were on yours. Even though you were caught by surprise, you returned the kiss easily.

You had pictured this moment before and well Nico ended up being a lot better of a kisser than you even imagined. When he pulled away you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that the kiss was over but you were also still shocked at what had just happened between the two of you. Shocked enough that the only word you could conjure up at the moment was “Oh…"

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb

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annoyinglandmagazine · 8 months

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I have a very specific take on the first meetings of Elrond and Celebrian that I am very obsessed with. So picture this. Celebrian during the Last Alliance is a pretty senior commanding officer within some of her parents forces and when she accompanies her mother to Imladris for the White Council she’s still largely fulfilling some of those duties for most of her stay, she’s out for a lot of the official events on patrols and such. She also spends most of the time around Imladris in her uniform, she has status of her own thank you very much she doesn’t need to introduce herself as Galadriel’s daughter to garner respect (Galadriel herself of course approves of this very wholeheartedly).

So in general she’d appear fairly masculine ( this was definitely not deliberate butch presentation to signal to queer elleths what are you talking about?), it’s mainly ambiguous on her part but she got her mother’s tall genes and built up a decent bit of lean muscle so people will draw their own conclusions. And while she’s in the training yard she hears someone humming what sounds like a Song of Power to enhance the stock of healing herbs kept nearby. She spots a stunning raven elleth in the corner that she was relatively certain she would be able to lift off her feet with shocking ease by the size of her.

Her conclusions were correct, the elf maid had a healer’s apron fastened over her dress and was most likely come from the Healing Halls, she was surprised she hadn’t seen her before though she hadn’t now until she’d started singing so maybe she was just good at blending it the background. She most certainly did not flex her sweat soaked muscles a little more than necessary with the next thrust, though the elleth most certainly seemed to think she had because she snorted to herself. Celebrian threw her a wink as she strode over to lean against a pillar.

She gets the name of Elwen, though she does not give one herself to the other’s great amusement. They flirt rather outrageously over the following weeks when they run into each other, sparring on occasion (and for such a tiny thing, by the Valar that Elwen was vicious. She was only two victories off drawing even with her, not that she was keeping track). Elrond was always fond of the anonymity offered by indulging his femininity, it was frankly shocking how few people recognised him when he did so, it was a pleasant way to both fulfil the need for a change that could not be ignored for long stretches of time and to experience things (and people) without the constant expectations to be a thousand different things at once. The opportunity for affairs of every nature without sullying the propriety of his reputation too thoroughly was another advantage.

So this all culminates in the first proper banquet Celebrian attends. ‘Lord Elrond, oh there you are, I was wondering if you’ve met my daughter Celebrian?’

Queue Celebrian going ‘oh shit, oh shit, I’ve been absolutely scandalous to one of my mother’s friends, oh Valar she’s going to kill me.’

And Elrond going ‘fuck, of all people you had to pick Galadriel’s daughter? Galadriel’s going to kill me, they will never find the body. Was that indecent corset really necessary?’

Galadriel finds this whole story hilarious when they tell her several centuries later (she knew the whole time and was just stirring shit up). Elrond and Celebrian are both bi so it works out anyways once they figure out exactly what happened.

#silmarillion #tolkien #Celrond #genderfluid #genderfluid Elrond #celebrian #elrond #galadriel #How queer can I make them

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multifandom-worlds · 1 year

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Talking About a Mouse

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 981

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x female reader

Warnings: N/A

Authors Note: I have no idea what prompted this, I just woke up with this idea.

Tagging: @holdmytesseract

You take your seat, eagerly waiting for the interview to start. Your production manager, Ethan, has scored you a ticket to a talk show where the interviewee was your childhood best friend, Tom. You hadn’t seen each other in years; he was filming for the new Marvel movie while you were filming your tv show UnEarthing the Past. Ethan got you a ticket as a surprise, and congratulations on a successful first season. You were giddy with anticipation.

“Please help me welcome the one, the only Tom Hiddleston!”

The crowd cheered as Tom walked on stage, waving at everyone in the audience before sitting on the couch across from the interviewer as the clapping slowly died. Logically, you knew he couldn’t see you with all those lights shining in his face - you've been on talk shows before, you know what it’s like - but it doesn’t stop the disappointment from stirring in your chest. Would he even want to see you? Sure, he called you while you were filming, and it made it into the season finale, but that was something different - you've changed since you last saw each other. Would he even want to remain friends?

The first 30 minutes of the interview go well; questions about his role as Loki, if he has any celebrity crushes and all the other typical invasive talk show questions. You were zoning out until one specific question caught your attention.

“There has been some buzz online about you being in the Discovery Channel show UnEarthing the Past. Do you know anything about that?”

Tom chuckles, and your hearts swell, hearing his laugh again in person. “Ah, Mouse, she said it wouldn’t stay in the final cut! Mouse hosts that show; she and I go back to when we were children. She’s my best friend, and I called her to see if she could go to the screening with me, but she mentioned she was busy filming and couldn’t talk. That’s all it is.”

You laughed along with the audience, a faint blush on your cheeks. You tried to keep it out of the final cut, but Ethan thought it would boost viewers to name-drop one of Hollywood's hottest celebrities. You wanted more than anything to attend the screening, but you were in Guatemala researching the Mayan Empire.

The interviewer waits until most of the laughter quieted before asking the next question, one you just knew would be either about you, your show or your friendship with Tom. “Have you watched an episode of her show?”

Tom nods without missing a beat. “I have seen every single one; I even got the cast hooked on it; Sebastian and I watch recordings whenever we aren’t needed on set. I have RDJ dying to meet her. My fiance loves it, too, Zawe hasn’t met Mouse yet, but she wants to so badly. I just haven’t had a chance to get Mouse back to LA; she’s always off on some adventure.”

The audience erupts in “oohs” and “awes.” while your face turns bright red. You wanted to make your presence known, but you weren’t sure how. To your knowledge, this show had a section where audience members could ask questions to the interviewee; you chose to wait until that time to let him know you were there.

“How do you two stay in contact after all these years and having such a busy schedule?”

Tom laughs again, leaning back on the couch. “It’s a shame Mouse isn’t here to answer these. We text each each each other as often as we can, and it’s usually updates on her show or sneak peeks into mine. She loves my Loki costume, so I’ll send her pictures when I get the chance, but she is also obsessed with Sebastian Stan, so just to torment her, I’ll send her a picture of Seb and me together.”

You laugh, but as soon as the next question leaves the interviewer's lips, you start worrying about how appropriate your friendship with Tom really was. “What does Zawe think about your friendship?”

“Zawe doesn’t care. She knows the deep love and respect I have for Mouse. Mouse encouraged me to get into acting in the first place; she encouraged me to pursue Zawe. I do not appreciate you implying I’m cheating on my fiance simply because I am friends with another woman.”

After a brief moment of awkward silence, the interviewer changes the subject, asking Tom questions about Marvel or Zawe, anything other than you and your friendship. It gave you plenty of time to think up your question for Tom.

After another 30 minutes of questions, the moment you have been waiting for finally arrives. The crew member in the audience hands you a microphone so you can ask your question. “How did your friend get the nickname Mouse?”

Tom’s eyebrows furrow slightly, and his nose wrinkle, indicating he is contemplating something. Did he recognize your voice?

“She was always so quiet and reserved, just like a mouse,” Tom responded, shielding his eyes from the light to see if he could get a better look at whoever asked the question. You laugh into the mic before the lights dim, and Tom sees your face. “You call me Mouse because when we were kids, we would always play cat and mouse; however, because you’re older, you always got to be the cat.”

Tom’s lips pull back into his signature smile before he jumps off the stage and runs up the aisle to you, pulling you into the tightest hug you’ve ever had to date. It felt good to hug him again, given that the last hug you ever got from him was when you graduated from archaeology school several years ago. He finally releases you, adjusting his suit jacket before pulling you into his side.

“I would like you all to meet my childhood best friend, Mouse!”

#tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston imagine

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cicimunson · 1 year

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New Year's (Conclusion to Christmas)

Author's note: Sorry loves, this is angsty and sweet, no smut this time! It's also a bit shorter, but I'm thinking about doing another part where Steve and the reader talk through the misunderstandings they've had?

Read Christmas first if you haven't read it yet!

Summary: It's New Year's Eve and the last thing Steve wants to do is party, especially since you left him on Christmas without saying goodbye. But Robin insists on dragging him out, and when you show up with a date, he realizes he needs to do something bold.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Female Reader, Robin Buckley, random oc Peter.

Warnings: Drinking, bit of angst, Steve is angry, fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Steve sighs, checking his hair in the mirror. “Robin, I’d really rather stay in tonight. We could make popcorn, watch a movie-”

“Absolutely not! It’s new year’s eve and we are not ringing in the new year watching another dumb action movie on your couch. I want to drink and dance and at least have a chance at kissing a pretty girl at midnight!” She bounces into the bathroom, tugging on Steve’s arm.

“Fine. But I’m leaving right after midnight, okay? Consider me your wingman until then.”

Steve drives the two of them to the party Robin had been gushing about all week, eyes flickering between watching the road and watching her talk excitedly, gesturing wildly with her hands.

He’d been moody for days, specifically since Christmas night when he woke up and you’d been gone. He’d checked the house for a note, but you were just gone. He’d seen you in town one time since then, and you had walked past him without even saying hello.

He felt used. There was no other word for it. Yes, he knew that the two of you weren’t a budding romance, not even fuck buddies, but you could have at least kissed him goodbye, at least pretended that the time you spent together those two days meant something.

Robin hadn’t helped, telling him that he was only upset because he was usually the one that does the ditching, which was true, but honestly, he thought you were nicer than he was. Maybe he was right the first time, you only saw him as a dumb jock.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, Robin ushering him inside to the party and getting them drinks. He watches as Robin greets people she knows, nursing his beer from afar. He nods at people he recognizes, trying to seem polite but not polite enough that anyone will try to strike up a conversation.

You walk into the room and it’s like he’s been punched in the gut.

His eyes feast on the sight of you, your short red skirt and silver top highlighting every curve you have. Your lips are the same shade of red as your skirt and he briefly pictures he dick stained with that pretty shade. Your heels, fuck your heels, he wants them digging into his ass while he’s inside you.

He discreetly adjusts himself, hoping he’s not staring too obviously. He watches as you glance around the room, briefly making eye contact with you before glancing away. When he looks back, he sees red again, but it’s not your lips or your skirt.

It’s anger. Some douche has walked in behind you, his hand on the small of your back as he whispers in your ear. You giggle and lean into him, looking happy with the attention he’s giving you.

A date. You have a date on New Year’s. You have someone to kiss at midnight.

Steve finishes his beer and hunts for Robin.

She’s on the dance floor, laughing with a group of friends. Steve takes her arm, bending down to shout over the music.

“I don’t know if I’m gonna stay till midnight.”

She frowns. “You promised! Come on, dance with me. It’ll make you feel better.”

He jerks his head across the room and Robin’s eyes follow, seeing you curled up close to your date. Her expression falls. “Shit. You okay?”

“I’m fine. I knew it wasn’t anything serious between us. I just feel like she’s rubbing it in my face, you know?”

“I doubt that’s her intention, Steve. She probably didn’t know you would be here.”

“Hey, whose side are you on?”

“Yours, always. But I think you’re reading into this.”

“I’m not. She’s always mocked me, this is just another way for her to do it. I ought to give her a piece of my mind.”

“I would not recommend that. Come on, Steve, have another drink, dance a little!” Robin bumps his hip with hers. “You gotta get out of this holiday funk.”

Steve nods but isn’t listening. He watches you kiss your date on the cheek before heading to the kitchen.

“Steve, Steven, don’t you-”

He takes off after you before Robin can finish her sentence.

Your POV

You pour yourself another drink, sighing. Why you’d agree to come to this party tonight, you had no idea. And why on Earth you’d agree to come with Peter was beyond you. Sure, he was cute, but he wasn’t your type at all. Ever since Steve had dismissed you on Christmas, you’d felt low.

You told yourself there was nothing wrong with getting a little male attention,even if it was from someone you didn’t even like.

You turn from the drink table and almost slam into a solid chest. “Shit, man, sorry.” You apologize.

“You should be.”

You jerk your head up. “Oh, Steve, hi.”

“Hi yourself.”

“How are you?” You try to keep your eyes from roaming over him. He’s in a tight red sweater that makes his eyes look warm and soft, snug jeans that you know encase his ass perfectly.

“I’m doing okay, thanks. You seem like you’re doing okay, too.” He fails to keep the sharpness out of his voice.

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Merely an observation.”

“Okay, then.” You move past him, shaking your head.

“Eager to get back to your date?” He taunts.

You turn back to him. “What do you care?”

“Oh, I don’t. Just couldn't help but notice you draped all over him.You should probably get a room.”

“It’s just a bit of fun, Steve. That’s all I’m good for, remember?” You attempt to walk off, but Steve snags a hand around your arm, tugging you to him.

“Let go.” You snap.

“Kiss him at midnight and see what happens. I fucking dare you, Y/N.” He hisses, his other hand landing a slap on your ass.

You flush as the sound echoes in the kitchen, people turning to see what caused it.

“Stop it. You have no right to be acting like a jealous boyfriend. You’re the one that said we’d had enough fun.”

He pauses. “That’s what got your panties in a twist?”

“Don’t think you have any effect on my panties.” You retort, but being this close to him, breathing in his aftershave is definitely having an effect on you. You fight the urge to lace your fingers through his hair and tug. You pull at your arm, knowing he isn’t going to let you go and knowing that you don’t want him to.

“Ditch him. Find me at midnight.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Go to hell.” You retort.

He squeezes your ass, then releases you, drifting into the crowd.

You realize you’ve been holding your breath the whole time, letting out a whoosh as you breathe deep. You make your way back to your date, trying not to think about Steve’s words.

Find him at midnight? Was he serious?

You realize Peter is talking but you haven’t heard a word he’s said. You smile and nod, trying to focus on what he’s saying.

Find me at midnight.

“We’ve got a minute left!” Someone calls out, everyone cheering excitedly.

Peter grins down at you, his arm slipping around your waist.

Find me at midnight.

“I’m so glad you finally agreed to a date with me, you’re really sweet, you know that?”

“Oh, thank you.”

“I mean New Year’s is kind of a big event for a first date, but if-”

“Thirty seconds!”

Steve. I want Steve.

You pull away from Peter. “You’re right, New Year’s is a lot of pressure for a first date.”

“But-”

You turn and rush into the crowd, searching for Steve’s red sweater.

“Twenty! Nineteen!”

Where the fuck is he?

You check around the dance floor, then look toward the kitchen.

Did he change his mind? Did he leave?

You turn and glance around the room rapidly, not seeing him anywhere.

“Ten! Nine!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You sigh. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe you aren’t meant to start your New Year with Steve. Maybe you aren’t meant to be with anyone right now. And hey, that’s okay, cause-

You yelp as two strong arms lift you from the floor, turning you.

“Three! Two! One! Happy new year!”

Steve’s mouth lands on yours and you slip your fingers into his hair, kissing him deeply. He drags the kiss out until you’re both breathless.

“Happy new year.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Happy new year.” You whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Tags: @freezaz123 @mxcheese @livsters @neewtmas @harrystylesandthegoobs @cancankiki @cal-is-not-on-branding

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington ff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n

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amelikos · 1 year

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Some character and episode notes from HZ005, writing them down for future reference!

- I kind of appreciate little things in this series, like adults scolding kids when they are doing something they shouldn’t do? Like Friede and the others explaining to Roy that he can’t just barge into their ship like that and Roy apologizing for it. Good boy has manners!

- Liko being very conscious that she is a heroine and thinking Roy was talking about her at first when he mentioned he came to see someone on the ship ww She is cute!

- I liked the whole talk about Roy wanting to become Hogator’s partner and Friede pointing out that he must take into account Hogator’s feelings and if both their feelings are in sync, then they can truly be partners. Friede really takes into account the Pokemon’s feelings. Cap was nodding while Friede was talking, which was cute. Friede seems supportive of Roy wanting to become Hogator’s partner and encourages him.

- Hogator seeing the pictures of the crew and the picture with Lizardon and Friede. I wonder if eventually, the crew will take pictures with Liko and Roy and display them on the wall there?

- Liko helping Roy look for Hogator on the ship was nice! Roy singing to try and lure Hogator out was cute. I liked Liko and Roy’s talk when Roy was wondering what Hogator thought about him and Liko reassured him. I really enjoy how they are both helping each other out and how Liko shares her own experience to help Roy. I hope they keep growing like that together!

- Friede didn’t seem to make the connection between Roy and his grandpa. So I wonder if he knew his grandpa from a time before Roy was living with him? Perhaps Friede knew him when he was a beginner trainer? Roy’s grandpa scolding him for getting into Friede’s ship without permission but still treating everyone to food afterwards was nice. He also specifically invites Friede for lunch since he took care of Roy. I was thinking that Roy’s grandpa could potentially be against him going on a journey, but I wonder if he’ll encourage him once he sees how close Roy and Hogator are? And he seems to trust Friede too. Also, it was cute how Friede decided to stay for lunch despite having to repair the ship because he saw how Liko was excited to see Pokemon she hadn’t seen before.

- I like how the people on the island live with the wild Pokemon, everyone helping each other (the scene with everyone cooking!). Friede even notes that these wild Pokemon seem friendly even those who have a reputation of not being so friendly. Liko realizing that you can live this close to Pokemon even without catching them and then talking to Roy about how it’s great that everyone gets along with them. I just like these things about the anime (reminds me a bit of moments in Alola!).

- While Zir and Conia seemed to suggest that they ambush the ship, Amethio remains more focused and reminds them that their goal is just the pendant and Liko. He really does things a specific way.

- Amethio being like “I have no business with you” to Friede is fun when I remember that he spoke quite highly of him as an opponent in the previous episode ww

- Liko feeling responsible if anything were to happen to anyone on the island because she knows it’s because her pendant is targeted ;_; It’s not the first time she feels like this.

- I kind of appreciated the small moment of Conia noticing that if Friede was coming from a specific direction, it means that Liko was probably there so she went that way. She is perceptive.

- The moment with Liko and Roy in the forest ;_; they were really scared and I like that this is a thing that happens. Usually, characters are not phased by dangerous situations. But Liko and Roy are not used to these kinds of scary situations and this must be overwhelming for them. The way they ask each other if they are okay and how their Pokemon helped them feel less scared was really sweet. It’s good.

- I just really like the way Amethio’s facade keeps crumbling episode after episode. The way Friede manages to get under his skin and annoy him! (”Don’t be so mad” ww) I also like that it’s a recurrent thing that he twitches his eye in annoyance ww He didn’t like Friede being distracted during the battle and said that this was a serious confrontation. He doesn’t want to be underestimated... and he wants things to go according to his plan, but he keeps being thwarted. I also liked how he used Friede being distracted against him at the end of the episode, since he took that opportunity to target Liko.

- Which, speaking of, I like how protective Friede is of Liko and Roy. He was distracted during the battle, but it was because he was worried about Roy and the others. Even before that, he didn’t want to drag them in the confrontation since he asked Roy’s grandpa to look after them.

- Roy singing to Hogator to communicate his feelings to him was cute! I wonder if it’ll keep being a thing for these two? Roy got to meet Hogator after listening to it sing and encouraged it to be more confident. And now Roy sings to get through it. I like this whole buildup before they become officially partners! Roy and Hogator both have a long way to go but I really wanna cheer for them. It was also nice how Liko encouraged Roy to tell Hogator how he feels. She is really making use of her experience with Nyahoja.

- Just many characters interactions and Pokemon moments I enjoyed during this episode. I also like how everyone had their own part to help repair the ship and fend off The Explorers.

#character notes #episode notes #hz005 #liko #roy #friede #amethio

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keerysquinn · 6 months

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Wherever You Point To I’ll Find ~ Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham

Nobody expected a budding romance between Steve and Chrissy when they were invited on this graduation road trip. But, as the two spend more and more time together away from the pressures their families, they just might find that they’re the perfect match.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: modern au, road trip, mutual pining, fluff, angst, discussion of mental health and body issues, eventual smut, adult themes and swearing throughout

Word Count: 12.3k

A/N: It's been far too long since I've updated this story, so thank you all for your patience with me. Specifically, thank you to @quinnkeerys for reassuring me about my writing abilities when I was feeling down about the lack of interest in my writing and encouraging me to keep writing. This is their story as much as it is mine, and I'm so excited for you all to see what's going to happen next.

Chrissy woke up cuddling with the gator plushie that Steve had gifted her the day before. She was still having trouble believing that that had actually happened. She hadn’t even realized that he’d seen her considering it before deciding that her parents would think it was a waste of money if she bought herself any more cuddly toys. They barely tolerated her attachment to her Fozzie Bear plushie and regularly told her that she was too old to rely on a stuffed animal for comfort.

Steve hadn’t known any of that though. He’d just seen her smiling at it and bought it for her without her noticing. This, of course, only brought up more questions that Chrissy just didn’t have the answers to. Jason had very rarely bought her any sort of surprise gift, and the few gifts he gave her tended to be more for show - a pendant with his initials, his letterman jacket - things that were meant to scream that Chrissy was his and only his even when he wasn’t around to act overly possessive of her. He’d certainly never given her a stuffed animal just because. So, what did it mean that Steve was surprising her with a gift when he barely knew her?

Of course, she had an inkling that Steve was maybe flirting with her. It felt obvious after the conversation they’d had the night before. He'd kept her pictures because he was jealous of hypothetical men that she hadn’t even met yet. That had to mean that he was at least a little bit interested in her. And she was definitely a little bit interested in him. She just didn’t know if she was ready to jump into something right now. She was going to be going off to college soon, and the idea of starting something new when she was about to be in a big transitional period of her life scared her more than she was willing to admit. She liked the idea of putting Hawkins behind her and starting fresh without anything holding her back.

But then she thought about the way Steve looked at her when he told her she was beautiful, and the idea of being tied to something in Hawkins didn't sound so bad.

"Can I ask you something kind of personal?" Chrissy asked as she leaned up against the open bathroom door. Nancy was already up and ready for the day, and she was just putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

"Depends on the question, but go ahead."

"Was Steve a good boyfriend when you dated him?"

"I wouldn't have stayed friends with him, and I definitely wouldn't have come on this trip with him if he hadn't been."

"But did he include you in things? Like, did he invite you to parties with the basketball team and actually talk to you during them? Did you feel like he really wanted you there?"

"I mean, I didn't exactly want to go to most of those parties, but I was always invited, and he always made sure I felt included in the conversation when I did go. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just curious, I guess."

Nancy glanced over at Chrissy who was staring down at the bathroom floor and seemed entirely too invested in the tile pattern. She could pretend she didn't know why Chrissy was asking her about Steve all she wanted, but the answer was obvious: Chrissy was into him, and she was trying to figure out if being into him was a good thing or not.

That wasn't what stuck with her the most though. It was the way that Chrissy seemed nervous whenever she spoke. It was like she was afraid of what Nancy was going to tell her, and that's when everything clicked for her.

She'd always known that Jason wasn't exactly great to Chrissy. Eddie had complained about him and his treatment of her enough that Nancy was well-versed with how horrible he was even if she didn't know the full story.

There had been some overlap between her relationship with Steve and Chrissy's relationship with Jason, and she couldn't remember seeing her at any of the team parties she went to. She couldn't count the number of times where Eddie had told her that he was hanging out with Chrissy or that she was joining them for a movie night because Jason had ditched her or told her that none of the guys from the team were bringing their girls to the party, so it would be best if she stayed home. Nancy had never given it much thought at the time, but this had clearly had a lasting negative effect on Chrissy. She wondered what else had stayed with her, but she didn’t think it was her place to pry.

Maybe it was a little presumptuous of her, but if Chrissy was asking these questions about Steve, Nancy couldn't help but think it was because she'd been right about something starting between the two of them. And, if that was the case, she knew that Chrissy was probably just making sure that she wasn't getting into a relationship with another asshole jock who wouldn't treat her the way she deserved to be treated.

"You know, Steve's a really great guy," Nancy said as she set down the mascara that she'd just finished applying and turned to face Chrissy. "Even when he's pursuing someone that he's so clearly wrong for - like me - he has this way of making you feel so special. Like you're the most important person in every situation. I never felt left out or like I wasn't wanted when we were together, and if I had, he would have done everything in his power to let me know I was the only person he cared about. You could do a lot worse than Steve Harrington."

"Oh, I'm not trying to be with him or anything like that," Chrissy insisted. "I was just curious is all."

"If that's what you need to tell yourself to finish this road trip with him, then I'll let you keep believing that. But that blush of yours is telling me an entirely different story." Nancy moved to exit the bathroom.

"Bathroom's all yours," she said. "We're supposed to be down at breakfast in about twenty minutes and we wouldn't want to keep Eddie and a certain someone that you totally aren't interested in waiting."

After that, Chrissy found herself rushing through her morning routine. She was so embarrassed that Nancy had seen right through her, but she was eager to spend more time with Steve. Everything was telling her that she could trust him with her heart, but she wanted to get to know him a little better before she did anything about this crush. No amount of reassurances from Nancy about how great of a guy he was could change the fact that she barely knew him. She had to figure out if she was actually interested in him or if she was just enjoying the attention he was giving her.

She had almost decided what she wanted to talk to him about when Nancy approached him and held out her hand.

"Keys, please," she requested. "I'm driving."

"Why?"

"Because you look exhausted, and I'm perfectly capable of driving us for a couple hours. You can sit in the back and try to get some more sleep."

Steve reluctantly handed over his keys. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Nancy's offer. He'd slept terribly the night before - probably from the guilt about making Chrissy feel bad about herself even though he’d apologized and attempted to make things right - and he really could use the extra rest. It was just that he'd never been able to comfortably sleep in the car, so he knew he wasn't actually going to sleep in the back, and he much preferred driving to being a passenger anyway.

He tried to make himself comfortable in the backseat, but there was a moment where Nancy hit a speed bump, and he was soon grimacing as his head thumped against the side of the car.

"Are you okay?" Chrissy asked.

"I have a hard time sleeping in cars if I have to sit up. It's okay though. I promise I'm fine."

"You can lay down if you want to. I mean, I wouldn't mind if you used me as a pillow."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"If you're comfortable, I'm comfortable," she told him.

They shared a small smile before Steve moved to curl up on the seat with his head resting against Chrissy's thigh. As soon as he was comfortable, Chrissy threaded her fingers through his hair and started lightly scritching at his scalp.

"Is this okay?" she asked.

"Mmhmm. Feels nice," he replied as he started to melt under her touch.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Never.”

Chrissy wasn’t sure how long it took Steve to fall asleep, but the second Eddie noticed the soft snores coming from the backseat, he turned around to talk to her.

“You’re looking awfully cozy back there,” he said with a knowing smirk.

Chrissy shushed him before looking down at Steve to make sure he hadn’t woken up.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She did her best to speak softly. She didn’t know if he was a light sleeper or not, and she didn’t want to risk waking him up so soon after he’d finally started to rest.

“You know, if you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re not interested in him, playing with his hair while he sleeps isn’t gonna do it for you.”

“I will repeat: I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is a purely platonic gesture, thank you very much.”

“Uh huh. Sure. Because everyone thinks that head scritches are the most platonic of platonic gestures.”

“Is this you confessing that you’re secretly in love with me?” Chrissy asked, trying to do whatever she could to change the subject. “Because I seem to recall you giving me head scritches when I stayed over after Jason - well, you know.”

“That was a completely different situation, and you know it.”

“Sure. That’s just what you want us to think. How can you openly admit that you’re interested in another girl right in front of your girlfriend? Don’t you have any common decency?”

“Yeah, Eddie,” Nancy continued with the teasing. “How could you do this to me? I thought we had something special? And I thought she was your sister? How messed up is that?”

“If I didn’t think it would wake up Steve, I’d start playing ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ right now.”

“Deciding that you two should be friends is maybe the worst thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.” Eddie slumped down in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

Chrissy covered her mouth with her free hand to keep her giggles from spilling out. She was trying to contain her laughter as much as possible because she didn’t want to be the one to accidentally wake Steve.

"Since we're on the topic of crushes," Nancy started after they'd had a moment to calm down. "Chrissy, did I ever tell you that Eddie has the biggest crush on Taika Waititi."

"No, he does not!"

"Oh, but he does. We had to stop watching ‘Our Flag Means Death’ because his bi panic was too intense."

"I just don't know if I want to be him or be on him, okay? He's weirdly hot as Blackbeard, and I was not mentally prepared for that."

"You wore your bandana on your head for a week trying to emulate him," Nancy teased.

"That's why you did that?" Chrissy asked through her giggles.

"I was unaware that my girlfriend and my best friend actually hate me and only keep me around to make fun of me, and I don't think I'll ever recover," Eddie pouted. "Also, Nancy has a crush on Aubrey Plaza. Tease her now."

"Nice try, but I'm not embarrassed by that."

"What about Chrissy's most embarrassing crush then?" Eddie asked.

"Hey! You've been sworn to secrecy on that!"

“Well, if we’re all talking about our embarrassing crushes, it’s only fair that we talk about yours, too. And yours ties in perfectly with Nancy’s. In fact, you could experience your crushes together if you really wanted to.”

“We could?” Nancy asked.

She was going to strangle him. The only upside to this situation was that at least Steve was still asleep, and he wasn’t going to be an audience to her embarrassment.

“Why’d you stop?” Steve asked, startling Chrissy and making her realize that she’d stopped giving him head scritches in her urgency to stop Eddie from talking.

So much for that positive.

“So needy,” she said with a small smile. “Did you really wake up the second I stopped?”

“Maybe,” he replied. “It just felt really nice is all.”

Before Chrissy had a chance to respond, Eddie piped up from the front seat again.

“Welcome to the party, Steve,” he said. “The girls seemed dead set on discussing my most embarrassing celebrity crush, so now we’re talking about Chrissy’s.”

“No, we most certainly are not,” Chrissy protested. “And you’re breaking the best friend code by bringing it up.”

“I’m only bringing it up because you and Nancy were bullying me first. I’m the real victim here, Steve.”

“Can it really be considered bullying if we’re doing it because we love you?” Nancy asked.

Steve moved to sit up, and Chrissy missed the weight of his head in her lap immediately.

“Depends on how embarrassing the crush is,” he said as he re-buckled his seatbelt.

“Eddie’s is Taika Waititi, and mine is Aubrey Plaza,” Nancy replied. “But I’m not embarrassed about it the way Eddie is.”

“Fair enough.” Steve turned to face Chrissy. “You don’t have to say it if you really don’t want to, but I’ll tell you my most embarrassing one if you tell me yours.”

“I don’t know. What if your crush isn’t even that bad? It’s probably something really basic like Ryan Reynolds or Margot Robbie,” she teased.

“Why would he be embarrassed by that?” Eddie asked. “Everyone has a crush on Ryan Reynolds.”

“Even you?” Nancy asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“No comment. Besides, we’ve moved on to Chrissy and Steve now. Leave me out of this.”

"Two words: Chris Motionless."

"That doesn't even count because you like him, too. And Ricky. And probably Vinny too if it wouldn't send Gareth into a panic thinking he'd have to fight you for his affection."

“I promise it’s not basic,” Steve told Chrissy, ignoring whatever was going on with Nancy and Eddie teasing each other in the front seat.

“You have to go first, and then I’ll decide if it’s juicy enough for me to tell you mine.”

“No way. If I tell you mine, you have to tell me yours. That’s the deal.”

He held out his hand, and Chrissy hesitantly gripped it and shook.

“Deal. But you still have to go first,” she said, not letting go of his hand just yet.

“Laura Dern."

"The mom from Little Women?"

"I mean, I was thinking of her as Dr. Ellie Sattler in Jurassic Park, but yes. Now yours."

"I can't," Chrissy said, shaking her head. "Yours was nowhere near as embarrassing as mine."

"That wasn't the deal."

Chrissy started to pull her hand away, but Steve tightened his grip and gave her hand a small squeeze.

"Nope. You went back on our deal, so this hand is mine until you tell me."

"I guess you're just gonna have to hold my hand all day then."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Chrissy didn't have time to react to Steve's blatant flirting because Eddie had turned around in his seat again.

"She has a crush on Sonic the Hedgehog," he said with a grin that rivaled the Cheshire Cat.

"I do not!" Chrissy could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She was past strangling him. He was getting thrown from a moving vehicle now.

"That's not what you told me."

"I don't have a crush on Sonic," she said as she stared down at her hands - one of which was still in Steve's grasp. "I have a crush on the guy who voices Sonic. There's a difference. I just really like his character on Parks and Rec is all. He's funny and cute."

"Why is that so embarrassing?" Steve asked.

"I don't know. It just is."

That was a lie. She knew why. She just didn't want to admit it out loud. Like so many other things that made her feel bad about herself, this all stemmed from her relationship with Jason. Every time she showed an inkling of attraction towards anyone in anything they watched together, she was made to feel like she was weird for finding that person attractive, or there were subtle digs about how silly it was to pretend she had a chance with someone like that. It broke her to the point where she didn't feel comfortable joking around about celebrity crushes the way that her friends did, and she didn't know if that would ever change.

"Well, I don't think it is," Steve reassured her. "I mean, I don't really know who that guy is, but c'mon. Funny and cute? He's gotta be the total package, and I say this as someone who is also obviously funny and cute."

"You are? Since when?" Chrissy teased.

“Since always,” he teased right back. “Haven’t you noticed?”

Chrissy could feel her cheeks heating up again because of course she had. She would have to be blind not to have noticed, but that wasn’t exactly something she was ready to say out loud just yet.

“Can I have my hand back now please?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, technically, Eddie told me and not you, so you didn’t fulfill your half of the deal which means I think you’re just gonna have to hold my hand until we’re done at the museum later.”

“Oh no. My worst nightmare,” she said through her giggles.

And Steve stayed true to his word. The second they got out of the car to stop for lunch, he was jogging around to her side and holding out his hand for her to take. The fact that he seemed to be offering his hand rather than forcing her touched her. He wanted her to be in on the joke with him. When she took his hand in hers and he laced their fingers together, she couldn’t help but think that this felt right.

Other than letting go of her hand so she could eat lunch and run to the restroom with Nancy, Steve held Chrissy’s hand every moment that he could. He even let Nancy drive again after their lunch stop.

“How am I supposed to hold Chrissy’s hand hostage if I’m driving?” he’d asked. “That just feels unsafe for everyone involved.”

Chrissy laughed along with him, and it wasn’t like she actually minded having to hold his hand anyway. She realized that she felt safe with him in a way she hadn’t really expected, and her heart melted a little bit whenever she felt him absentmindedly rubbing his thumb against her own. She knew that this was just him joking around with her, but when he offered her his hand again when they got out of the car, she couldn’t help but think that she wouldn’t mind it if he made her hold his hand for the rest of the trip.

Their next stop was the Mothman Museum in Point Pleasant, West Virginia. Shocking no one, this was another one of Eddie’s requests. He’d spent enough time joking about how his goal in life was to be weird enough that he became known as the trailer park cryptid that it only made sense that he’d want to spend time at a museum dedicated to the history of his own favorite cryptid.

Typically, this wouldn’t have been something that either Chrissy or Steve was interested in, but they made it fun for each other. Every so often, he would lean over and whisper the headlines off of the different newspaper articles and the words off the plaques in increasingly ridiculous ways leaving her giggling both from the silly voices and the fact that his breath was tickling her ear.

“Stop it,” she said through her giggles as she turned and pressed her face into his shoulder. He had to know the effect that he was having on her.

"I'm sorry," he said with a smirk. "Am I being too funny and cute for you to handle?"

"You're being a menace actually, Stephen," she told him, using what she assumed was his full name to emphasize her point.

She peeked around where she was hiding her face in his shoulder and looked up at him, and he felt that same grip in his chest that he’d felt when she was making faces at him the day before. If he wasn’t convinced she’d hide her face again or ask him to delete it immediately, he might have pulled out his phone to take a picture of her just to save this moment forever.

“And being cute won’t get you out of your punishment early, Chris,” he said as he gave her hand a small squeeze.

“Would you mind not calling me that?” she asked. “I don’t really like that nickname.”

Jason had always insisted on calling her Chris, and she’d always loathed it. But, no matter how many times she asked him to stop, he never would and insisted that it was their thing. He liked calling her that, and that was all that mattered to him. Forget her feelings or the fact that being called Chris made her skin crawl. His preferences were more important.

Now, in addition to the distaste she originally had for the nickname, it had a cloud hanging over it in the form of a guy who never really loved her. She just hoped that Steve was the kind of guy to respect her boundaries and not call her that when she said she didn't like it.

"Sorry," he said as he gave her hand another little squeeze. "I won't use it again. Permission to try out other nicknames until I find one we both like?"

"Permission granted. You better come up with some good ones though. I'm very picky about what I’ll let people call me.”

“I’m up for the challenge.”

They made their way into the small gift shop next, and Chrissy was immediately drawn to the little mothman plushies on display.

“He’s so ugly,” she said with the biggest grin on her face. “I love him.”

"You do?" Steve asked.

"I do."

"But you just said he's ugly."

"That's why I like him. He's weird."

"Then, he's yours," he said as he pulled one of the plushies off the shelf.

"You really don't have to do that. I don't need another stuffed toy."

"I know I don't have to. I want to. Think of this as a reward for being such a good sport about your punishment."

He punctuated his statement by giving her hand a small squeeze.

"I thought we'd determined this wasn't a punishment," she said as she squeezed his hand back. "And even if it was a punishment, isn't the whole point of a punishment that it's the opposite of a reward?"

"Quit using logic and let me be nice to you."

Chrissy could feel her cheeks warming, and she moved to hide her face from him again. She wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, and she didn’t know how to respond. But, more importantly, she didn’t know how to thank him properly. The few times Jason had given her a gift, she’d given him a kiss along with her thanks and then snuggled up to him until he inevitably got angry at her for being in his personal space without being willing to put out. She couldn’t exactly do that with Steve. This could all be a purely platonic gesture of friendship on his part, and she’d hate to make things awkward just because she’d misinterpreted everything.

And it wasn’t like she could buy him a gift either. Even if there had been something in that gift shop that he would have liked, she was trying to spend as little money as possible on this trip. Her parents weren’t exactly supportive of her chosen major, and even with her various scholarships, she was afraid that she was going to be left on her own to pay for everything when her parents inevitably decided to stop throwing away money for something as frivolous as they thought her dreams were.

These thoughts stayed swirling around in her head as she let Steve pull her over to the counter to pay for her gift. When he handed her the plushie, she hugged it to her chest with her free arm.

“I wish there was something more I could do than just saying thank you.”

“My gifts aren’t conditional,” he said with a shrug. “You don’t have to do anything other than what you’re doing right now.”

Chrissy could feel herself starting to blush again as she smiled up at him. He was just so genuine in his kindness towards her, and he was acting like it wasn’t a big deal when it was to her. She just didn’t know how to tell him that without making things awkward.

Meanwhile, Steve was trying to play it cool, and he felt like he was failing miserably. Before they’d even entered the gift shop, he’d told himself that he didn’t need to buy anything there. The only person in their group that needed a souvenir of their trip to the Mothman Museum was Eddie, and Steve certainly wasn’t going to buy one for him. But then Chrissy said she liked the weird looking cryptid plushies, and he was rushing to buy her one in the hopes that he’d get to see her smile again.

That was how she could thank him. Just keep holding his hand and smiling at him and looking at him like he was a much better person than he thought he was. She had to realize that he was flirting with her at this point. He felt like he was being so obvious about it, but she was still so closed off with him. Even if she was joking around with him and smiling at him, he could tell that she was hesitant to really form a connection with him. He didn’t know why that was. All he knew was that he wanted to find a way to prove that he was a safe person for her, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.

Out of the corner of her eye, Chrissy spotted Nancy and Eddie looking over at her and Steve. They were huddled up together and talking, but their attention was clearly on the other couple. Chrissy started to feel self-conscious about what they must be thinking about her. How she’s being so obvious about enjoying her punishment and taking advantage of Steve’s lighthearted fun. In theory, she knew her best friend would never judge her like that, but she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with them watching her, and she was desperate to not be the center of attention.

“Does you giving me a reward mean that my punishment is over?” she asked.

She didn't really want it to be over, but she felt like if she let it go on any longer, she'd never let him go, and that wasn't something she thought she was allowed to do.

"It can be," he replied as he loosened his grip on her hand.

He didn't want to let go of her, but now he was questioning if he'd gone too far with the whole hand holding thing. She hadn't acted like she'd disliked it, but maybe she'd just gone along with it to avoid hurting his feelings. Those thoughts only made him feel worse about the whole situation. He watched as she let go of his hand and hugged her new plushie to her chest, and he couldn't help but think he'd just bribed her into being okay with him pushing her boundaries. There was no way he could have known that she wanted to be holding his hand as much as he wanted to be holding hers.

Maybe he should have just left things there, but he had to check in with her about this and make sure she was okay. So he placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her to the side away from the cashier in order to give her the illusion of privacy.

"I know this teasing and the hand holding and everything was all supposed to be for fun," he started, "but I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed alright with it in the moment, but I don't know. You just got kind of quiet on me, and the last time that happened, it was because I'd made you feel uncomfortable. That's the last thing I ever want to do, so you can tell me if I overstepped at all, and I won't ever do anything like that again, okay?"

Chrissy hugged the plushie to her chest a little tighter and smiled up at him.

"I liked holding your hand, Steve," she reassured him. "I'm just not used to anyone paying this much attention to me, and I'm definitely not used to people caring about my comfort over their own. Me feeling overwhelmed had everything to do with me and nothing to do with you."

"Are you sure? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"I promise you didn't do anything wrong. I will happily hold your hand again in the future - as a punishment or not. I just needed a moment to feel invisible."

He simultaneously felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest and like he needed to go fight someone. He had a pretty good idea about who made Chrissy feel like her comfort wasn't important, and the idea of Jason pushing at her boundaries made his blood boil. He didn't know how he'd do it, but he was going to make it his mission to help her realize she was worthy of being the center of attention sometimes.

Before he could say anything else to her, they were rejoined by Eddie and Nancy.

"How do you feel about cryptid hunting tonight?" Eddie asked them.

"Cryptid hunting?" Steve asked.

"What Eddie means is who wants to go camping tonight?" Nancy asked. "There was a brochure advertising a campground that has tent rentals, and we were thinking it might be fun to do that instead of finding a hotel for the night. My family used to go camping every summer when Mike and I were kids and Holly hadn't been born yet, and Eddie's been loads of times with his uncle, so it's not like we'd be going into this blind. What do you think?"

Steve was against camping. He didn't see the point of sleeping on the ground when beds existed. He was about to voice that opinion, but Chrissy spoke up first.

"That sounds like fun to me," she said. "I always wanted to go camping when I was little, but my parents aren't exactly outdoorsy people. But going with you guys would definitely be more fun than that would have ever been. I say we do it."

"Sounds fun to me, too," Steve agreed. If Chrissy wanted to go camping, he'd pretend that he wanted to go too. This was their graduation trip anyway. He was just along for the ride, and if they all wanted to do something, he wouldn't be the one to stop them. Plus, he wasn't going to be the one who kept Chrissy from doing something she wanted to do. Especially when he'd just decided that he wanted to make her see that her wants were just as important as everyone else's. He could put up with sleeping on the cold, hard ground if she wanted to try it out.

So the group made a quick stop at a camping supply store to pick up sleeping bags and any other equipment that Eddie thought they'd need as well as a grocery store to pick up whatever they needed to make dinner and breakfast, and then they were off to the campsite.

Since they had tents of various different sizes, Eddie and Nancy decided that they'd get a two-person tent to share, and Steve and Chrissy each chose smaller, single-person tents for themselves. They made quick work of setting up their campsite with Eddie helping out the less experienced members of their group to get their tents erected.

Steve tried to be as useful as he could, but setting up tents and starting fires weren't exactly his forte. He wasn't the outdoorsy type by any means, and it was hard to feel like he was really contributing when all he could do was hold things in place while Eddie did all the real work. He wished he could be more helpful, but he was so out of his element.

But, just when he was starting to feel completely inadequate, Chrissy chose to sit down next to him while Eddie and Nancy got to work on starting a fire for them.

"I feel so useless here," she said as she smiled up at him. "My only camp experiences are from cheer camp, and those had zero really outdoorsy elements to them."

"You'll be the first we go to if we're in need of any backflips then."

"You sure about that? Eddie might try and beat me to the punch."

"He can do a backflip?"

"Oh, he can barely do a somersault, and he'd probably break his neck if he tried. Doesn't mean that'll stop him though."

"Sounds about right. For the record, I probably feel just as useless as you do. This isn't really my thing either," he told her.

"Maybe so, but I'm sure you have plenty of skills that could be useful out here. I mean, you spend a lot of your time entertaining those kids, right? I bet you're great at telling scary stories around the campfire."

"Oh yeah. The king of keg stands and scary stories."

"I'm expecting something pretty impressive from you then," she said as she nudged him with her elbow. "I don't scare easily, so you better make it really good. I want to have nightmares."

"I'll do my best."

And, just like that, he didn't feel so useless anymore. Somehow, she was able to say exactly the right thing to wash away all of the insecurity that he was feeling, and he felt better just sitting next to her. She rarely left his side for the rest of the evening almost as if she could tell he wanted to have her around.

She stayed sharing his space as they made their dinner, and she let him convince her that she would be doing herself a disservice if she didn't have a second s'more. She laughed at his jokes and seemed genuinely interested in everything he had to say. He'd made it his mission to make her feel better about herself, and here she was doing exactly that for him.

When they were done eating, Chrissy was the first to suggest that they tell scary stories around the crackling fire, and she urged Steve to get up and be the first to perform. And he did just that.

Truthfully, it wasn't even his story. It was one that Dustin had told to the party during a sleepover at Steve's. Something about monsters in the woods that prey on their victims' worst fears and contort their bodies into pretzels made of broken bones as they grow stronger at the sounds of their screams. It had even shaken up Max who prided herself in being unaffected by anything scary, so he figured it was the perfect one to tell Chrissy when she said she didn't scare easily.

He put everything he had into that story, and the fact that Chrissy seemed completely enthralled by him only urged him to be bigger and bolder in his storytelling. Anything to keep her attention on him.

When his story came to an end, Chrissy could feel the goosebumps prickling her skin. She was about to say something - maybe congratulate Steve for successfully spooking her - when Eddie snuck up behind her and grabbed her waist causing her to shriek.

She jumped up from her seat as she pulled Eddie's wiggling fingers away from her sides.

"You jerk," she pouted. "Why would you do that?"

"I needed to get back at you for ganging up on me earlier."

"Why didn't you scare Nancy then? She was the one who started it."

"The last time I tickled Nancy, she almost broke my hand, so I figured scaring you was the safer option."

"Leave her alone, Eddie," Nancy said as she beckoned for him to sit back down next to her.

Eddie crossed back over to sit with her and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend to half pull her into his lap.

"What kind of brother would I be if I didn't mess around with her on occasion?"

"A nice one," Chrissy said as she sat back down in her original seat.

Eddie scrunched up his nose and shook his head.

"Could never be me," he teased.

Steve moved to sit back down next to Chrissy and fully turned his attention on her.

“I didn’t freak you out too much, did I?” he asked.

“I’m okay. Some people just like to mess with me a little too much for their own good,” she said as she gave Eddie a very pointed look.

"I'd suggest we stick something gross in his tent while he's sleeping, but that would also punish Nancy, and she definitely doesn't deserve that."

"It's fine. I don't need to get revenge. Not tonight at least."

"You sure you're okay then?"

"I promise. I told you that I wanted to be scared, and you delivered."

"And here I was hoping that you'd want to hold my hand again for comfort."

"I guess you'll just have to wait until I go back on my word again for that."

Their night wrapped up shortly after that. Nancy was starting to get tired, so she and Eddie put out the fire before she dragged him over to their tent with Steve and Chrissy retreating to their own tents shortly after.

It was only once she was alone and fully enveloped by the darkness of sleeping outside that Chrissy really started to feel spooked. She hadn't realized just how dark and isolated it was going to be alone in her tent when she'd said she wanted to go camping. She had almost calmed herself down enough to sleep when she heard a few twigs snap entirely too close to her tent for her comfort, and she was putting herself into a panic again.

Part of her wanted to go to Eddie since it was his fault she was so worked up to begin with, but she didn't want to punish Nancy for his bad behavior. She just didn't think she was ever going to be able to fall asleep if she stayed in her own tent by herself, and that meant her only other option was to go to Steve. She just hoped he wouldn't be annoyed by her intrusion.

When she poked her head out of her tent, she noticed that Steve's tent was still lit up by his lantern, so she figured she at least wouldn't be waking him if she went to him. She was still trying to decide if that was a good idea or not when she heard another twig snap, and the next thing she knew, she was gathering up her sleeping bag and pillow and racing over to Steve's tent.

"Steve?" she said from outside the tent.

"Chrissy?"

That was all she needed to hear before she pulled open the tent flaps. When she could see inside, she was surprised to find Steve wearing glasses and holding a book open in front of him.

"Oh. You're reading?"

She hadn't meant it in a negative way. Honestly, she hadn't. That just wasn't something she'd expected from him. The Steve that all of the other cheerleaders talked about just didn't seem like the type to spend his free time reading novels. But the hint of surprise in her voice was still enough to hurt him.

Steve was used to people treating him like he was just another dumb jock. He'd been hearing digs about his intelligence from everyone in his life for as long as he could remember. His parents, his teachers, even his closest friends - they all had something to say about how stupid he was. But Chrissy hadn't said anything like that to him in the short time he'd known her. She never made him feel dumb.

And yet, she was standing there surprised because how could someone as dumb as Steve Harrington even know how to read in the first place. Maybe it was dumb of him to think she was different, but that didn’t stop the pain in his chest from growing.

“Yeah. I do that on occasion.”

“Of course, you do,” she stuttered out. “I never said you didn’t.”

“Sure. Did you want something or can I get back to this?”

He was being short with her, and he regretted it instantly when he saw the way she flinched at his words, but he didn’t have the patience to deal with yet another person who thought the mere idea of him reading was ridiculous.

“It’s nothing,” she said, staring at the ground to avoid looking at him. She didn’t understand why he was being so cold to her all of a sudden when they’d been fine an hour ago, but she didn’t want to bother him and make things worse if she had somehow ruined things between them. She should have known that she was nothing more than a nuisance to him. “I’ll be fine. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

It was only when she turned to leave that he realized she was carrying her sleeping bag and pillow with her. As hurt as he was feeling, he couldn't let her walk away. Not when it seemed like she was looking for somewhere else to sleep.

"Wait. What happened?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"It's stupid. I just - you know how I said I don't scare easily? Well, I lied. I love scary stories, but I can't handle them, and Eddie grabbing me like that only made it worse. Put me on edge even more. And I thought I was going to be okay, but then I heard something in the woods, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I thought about getting Eddie and making him sit with me until I calmed down, but I didn't want to bother Nancy, and I can't keep stealing her boyfriend from her just because he's my best friend, and he gets me. And I was just going to deal with it on my own, but I saw your tent was lit up, and I thought maybe you'd be okay with me staying in here with you just until I could calm myself down. Or maybe the whole night even though that would make it kind of crowded in here since this tent isn't really made for two people. I don't know. I just know that was apparently the wrong thing to do because you're clearly upset with me, and I'm probably making it worse right now. So, again. I'm really sorry I bothered you. I'll just go back to my tent and leave you alone."

She was practically shaking as she spoke, and he could tell she was close to tears. It broke his heart to see her this way, and he couldn't help but think that it was primarily his fault since he'd only told that stupid story in the hopes that it would impress her. Even if she'd hurt him, he couldn't let her go back to her own tent. Not when she was this upset.

"You can stay here if you want," he told her.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I really don't want to impose and take up too much of your space."

"There's plenty of room in here for you. It's fine. I promise."

Chrissy let herself the rest of the way into the tent and started to set up her sleeping bag. She attempted to keep her space as far away from Steve as possible since she was pretty sure that he was only letting her stay there out of pity, and she didn't want to invade his space any more than she actually had to. It was such a small tent though, and she found herself practically on top of him anyway.

"Thank you," she said as she crawled into her sleeping bag. She was still a little on edge, but she already felt safer just sharing Steve's space. She didn't know why, but she was certain nothing bad would happen to her while he was there.

She didn't want to bother him anymore, but now that she was already there, she was curious about what he was reading. If Steve Harrington was a reader, she needed to know what kinds of stories he was interested in.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

Before Steve could respond, Chrissy heard a crunch of something outside the tent, and she flinched again. He wasn't exactly interested in starting a conversation about his book when he was pretty sure that the mere idea of him reading was ridiculous to her, but with the way she was curling in on herself at every little sound, he figured that she could use a distraction.

"The Princess Bride," he told her. "Eddie threw it at me last week and said I needed to expand my horizons and open my mind to one of the greatest stories ever told."

"He's been telling me the same thing for ages. I've never gotten around to it though."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. School and cheerleading and everything else just seemed to take up all my time. I'm sure I'd like it if I ever actually sat down to read it. I just haven't. Is it any good?"

"I'm not very far into it, but I'm liking it so far."

There was another noise outside the tent, and Chrissy flinched again.

"I could read it to you if you want?" he offered. Anything to take her mind off of the noises outside the tent and help her calm down a little.

"You don't have to do that. I don't want to impose on you any more than I already have."

"I wouldn't have offered to do it if it wasn't something I was willing to do. Sometimes people do things just because they're nice and they want to, you know?"

It wasn't that simple for Chrissy though. She'd spent so much time being told that doing anything for her was a chore that she was always second guessing whether people actually wanted to be around her and were genuine in the kind things they said and did for her. It had taken her months to come to terms with the fact that Eddie genuinely wanted to be her friend. How could she be expected to understand Steve's motives so soon after meeting him?

He seemed genuine though, and she felt like she could trust that he was telling the truth right now. Even still, she couldn't let him burden himself for her.

"You're already a decent way into the book, and I'd hate for you to restart it on my behalf. Especially when I'll probably fall asleep soon now that I feel safe. You don't have to do anything special for me."

It wasn't lost on him that she said felt safe now that she was in his tent. After she'd been so afraid in the car the day before, all he'd wanted was to make sure she knew that there was no reason to be scared around him, and now she was seeking him out for protection. It made him feel a little bit better about himself.

"So I won't start over," he told her. "I just feel like you could use the distraction, and if I'm reading out loud, it might drown out the noises outside the tent and help you get to sleep a little easier. And I can always go back to reading silently after you're asleep. It doesn't have to be a big deal."

"Okay. You can read to me."

Steve picked the book back up and began to read to her. In the passage he was currently on, the lovers had just been reunited, and Westley was waxing poetic about how beautiful Buttercup was. But, then she asked what he thought of her mind, and all of a sudden there was no time to talk about anything because they had to get moving. Chrissy felt a pit growing in her stomach the more she thought about it.

How many times had she been told that being beautiful was her only real skill? Jason had only cared about having a beautiful, popular girl on his arm. All of his compliments had been about her appearance, and there had been the subtle digs when he felt like her beauty wasn't up to his standards. He hadn't cared about anything she'd ever had to say or her thoughts and feelings. And maybe Westley hadn't meant it that way in the story, but his dismissal of Buttercup's request to hear what he thought of her mind put her right back into her relationship with Jason and that constant nagging feeling of inadequacy.

She was close to a full on hate spiral when she was broken out of it by a rustling of leaves and the sound of a twig snapping outside the tent. She flinched and moved closer to Steve, and he paused in his reading to make sure she was okay. She just looked so small and scared. He finally understood what she meant when she said Eddie had told her she looked like a bunny rabbit when she was frightened.

He wished there was more he could do, but his reading to her clearly wasn't enough on its own. The more Chrissy clung to him, the more he wanted to help her. He had to find another way to distract her.

"She remained unconscious for a very long time," he continued reading. "Westley busied himself as best he could, cleansing the Snow Sand from ears and nose and mouth, and most delicate of all, from beneath the lids of her eyes."

As he listed the features of Buttercup's face in the book, he traced those same features on Chrissy. A finger trailing down the bridge of her nose. Caressing the shell of her ear as he pushed her hair back behind it. The swipe of his thumb along her lower lip. Gently using his index and middle fingers to close her eyelids. And as he did this, she seemed to relax beside him. She curled up close to him and rested her head against his shoulder. Her hands rest against his arm right where his t-shirt hit his bicep. She clung to him not because she was scared but because he was a source of comfort for her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't mention it."

He kept reading aloud for only a little bit longer - only until he was certain she'd fallen asleep - and then he set the book aside, took off his glasses, turned off his lantern, and drifted off to sleep along with her.

"Chrissy is missing," Nancy said as she climbed back into the tent she was sharing with Eddie.

"What are you talking about?" He was still half asleep, and it was way too early in the morning for him to fully comprehend what she was telling him.

"When I came back from the outhouses, I noticed Chrissy's tent was open, but she wasn't in there and neither was her sleeping bag."

Eddie pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Her sleeping bag was gone? I have an idea of where she might be."

Eddie left the tent with Nancy following close behind him.

"Five bucks says she's in there with him," he said as he crept over to Steve's tent.

Nancy placed a hand on Eddie's arm and pulled him back slightly.

"Maybe we don't bother them. I don't hear anything, so they're probably still asleep. Why don't we go back to our own tent and wait for them to wake up?"

"But I want to bother them about it now."

"For someone who's supposed to be Chrissy's best friend, you're terrible when it comes to knowing how she'll react to things. If we ambush them now, she'll be too embarrassed to say anything, and I know Steve. If she's embarrassed and doesn't want to talk about what happened between them, he's not going to say anything either just because he won't want to do anything to upset her further. We need to let them leave the tent on their own terms, and then we can divide and conquer to find out what happened last night."

Eddie sighed.

"Why do you always have to be right?"

"Because one of us has to be." Nancy reached up to kiss Eddie's cheek. "Now get back in our tent. I don't want them to overhear us."

Meanwhile, back inside Steve's tent, Chrissy was just starting to wake up. Camping wasn't exactly what she'd hoped it would be, and she was a little stiff from sleeping on the ground. It took her a moment to remember that she wasn't in her own tent, but it was hard to forget that she'd slept next to Steve when she was still curled up against his side. She tried to put a little distance between their bodies, but when she moved away from him, he stirred.

"G'morning," he mumbled as he rolled over to face her.

"Good morning."

"How'd you sleep?"

"Okay. Thanks to you."

"I told you not to mention it. It's no big deal."

"It might not be a big deal to you, but it is to me. So I will mention it, and I will thank you. I know I was maybe a little irrational, but you calmed me down and made me feel safe. Most guys wouldn't do that."

"You must not know many decent guys then."

"I didn't. Not until this trip at least."

And she meant it. Steve was clearly one of the good ones. Not the type of guy who only said he was a good guy until he was actually presented with the opportunity to be a decent human being and failed. No, Steve was genuinely a good person. Last night proved that she didn't have anything to be afraid of when it came to opening her heart up to him.

"Should we get up?" she asked. "I'm sick of laying on the ground."

"Me too. Remind me to never go camping again unless it involves an RV so I can sleep in a real bed."

"Only if you remind me to never try to sleep outside again. I need real walls and a door that locks for my peace of mind."

"Deal."

The two got up from their sleeping bags and readied themselves to exit the tent. Before they could leave, Chrissy stopped them.

"I meant to say this last night, but I was a little preoccupied. I just wanted you to know that I really like your glasses. They suit you."

"I only really need to wear them when I'm reading, but I try not to wear them when anyone else is around. You don't think they make me look like a dweeb?"

"A very handsome dweeb."

"Oh, so you think I'm handsome now?" he asked with a teasing smirk. "I feel like that's a step up from funny and cute, don't you?"

"I think I need to stop complimenting you. Your ego is going to get too big to fit in that car with us," she teased right back.

He reached out and gave her hip a tiny pinch which earned him a giggle from her as she flinched and swatted his hand away before exiting the tent. He followed close behind her, and they'd barely been outside for a full minute before Eddie was bursting out of his own tent and racing over to Chrissy.

"Chrissy, come take a walk with me," he said as he started to pull her away from Steve. "I saw the most amazing tree last night, and I need to show it to you. Right now."

Chrissy let herself be dragged away by her best friend, but that didn't stop her from being confused.

"Alright, Evan Hansen," she started. "Since when have you been interested in trees?"

"Since always," he replied. "But a better question would be is there anything you want to share with me about last night?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

“Oh really? So nothing happened between you and Steve?”

“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

"Sure you don't. Then why was your sleeping bag not in your own tent?"

"Well, I'm not sure if you know this, but my best friend is kind of a jerk, and he scared me half to death last night even though he knows I scare easily and don't do so well with that kind of thing. And I couldn't very well go bother him without punishing his girlfriend who did nothing wrong, so I asked Steve if he wouldn't mind me sharing his space for the night. Nothing happened in that tent other than sleeping."

"So you didn't snuggle up with and smooch his face off?"

"What are you? Five?" Chrissy asked through a laugh. "No. Nothing happened between us, and we kept our hands to ourselves the entire time."

That wasn't exactly a lie. Eddie just didn't need to know about the way that Steve was finally able to get her to calm down. She'd never hear the end of it if she told him about every gentle touch of her face or the way that she gripped his bicep for comfort as she tried to fall asleep. Some things were better left between her and Steve.

"That's a shame," Eddie replied. "Because I was thinking that he'd make a good temporary replacement for that Fozzie Bear plush of yours. They're practically twins when you think about it, what with Steve being so hairy and all."

"Don't you dare bring that up in front of him. Any mention of the Muppets around him, and I will never forgive you."

That's how Eddie knew that Chrissy was actually starting to have feelings for Steve. Her love of the Muppets wasn't exactly a secret, but she didn't broadcast it to the world, and he knew for a fact that she'd never told Jason about it. She'd said that it would make it impossible for anyone to be attracted to her if they knew that she watched every piece of Muppets media that she could get her hands on, and it would be doubly impossible if they knew she drew comfort from a rather sizable Fozzie Bear plush. So, if she didn't want Steve to know about this, it meant that she wanted him to be attracted to her. She wouldn't have cared if a guy that she just wanted to be friends with knew about it.

Meanwhile, back at the campsite, Nancy was being much more direct with her interrogation.

“Did you spend last night making out with Chrissy?” she asked as soon as Eddie and Chrissy were out of earshot.

“Excuse me?” Steve practically choked on air.

“You heard me. She very clearly slept in your tent, and I need to know what happened.”

“How do you know she slept in my tent? Were you spying on us?”

“What? No. You didn’t zip up your tent when you left it this morning, and I can clearly see that there are two sleeping bags in there.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” he insisted.

“Steve, I know you, so I can tell when you’re lying. I just want to know if I need to keep Eddie from murdering you over you taking advantage of his best friend.”

“Jesus. It was nothing like that,” he promised. “Chrissy was spooked by something in the woods, so she asked if she could stay with me. She just didn’t want to be alone, and she slept in my tent in her own sleeping bag. Literally nothing happened.”

Nancy could tell that Steve was telling the truth. He’d never really been the best at lying, so she could typically see right through him. However, she could tell that he wasn’t telling her the full story. She figured that he wouldn’t tell her anything else, so she’d have to see what Eddie was able to find out and then see if Chrissy was more willing to fill her in on what happened.

She found her opportunity shortly after they’d finished their breakfast. They had a long day of driving ahead of them if they wanted to get to Myrtle Beach before they were all too tired to function, so Steve wanted them to get on the road as soon as possible.

“Why don’t Chrissy and I start bringing the bags to the car while you and Eddie return the tents?” she suggested. “That should save us a little time.”

She didn’t wait for anyone to respond. She just grabbed some of their bags and started ushering Chrissy towards the campground’s parking lot.

“So, I hear someone slept all snuggled up next to Steve,” she teased.

“Did he tell you that?” Chrissy asked, her eyes going wide.

“No, but I think you just did.”

“Oh, it wasn’t like that. Those single person tents are just so small that it's hard not to be right up next to someone if you're sharing."

"Well, I hope you weren't too close to each other for your sake. Just because Steve is really ticklish along his sides, and I would hate for you to be on the other end of his flinching."

Of course, Nancy knew that Steve wasn't sensitive enough to flinch at every little touch. He was only really ticklish when you actually tried to tickle him. However, she also knew that you didn't go around tickling just anyone, so she was planting a little seed of a way that Chrissy could flirt with him if that's what she was trying to do.

Chrissy could feel her cheeks warming at the mere idea of being that close to Steve and touching him in that way. She had an inkling that he would be open to goofing around with her in that way from the little teasing and poking at her that he'd done so far. She just needed an opportunity to arise where it wouldn't be weird for her to touch him in that way.

Meanwhile, Eddie was having his own similar conversation with Steve as they walked back from returning the tents.

"So, have you kissed her yet?" he asked.

"What is with you and Nancy having this weird obsession with whether or not I've made a move on Chrissy? Which, for the record, I haven't. I doubt that's something she'd want anyway, so nothing is happening there unless she makes the first move."

"You're kidding right?"

"Why would I kid about something like this?"

"I don't know. But she's clearly interested in you, so I also don't know why you'd think she wouldn't want you to kiss her."

"She doesn't think I'm good enough for her."

"You're full of shit. Why would you think that?"

Steve sighed.

"When she came to my tent last night she was surprised that I was reading. Like she was audibly and visibly shocked that I was smart enough to read, and that stung. A lot."

"Did she actually say that she didn't think you were smart enough to read?" Eddie asked.

"Well, no, but it was all in her tone. The idea of me holding a book was ridiculous to her."

Eddie placed a hand on Steve's shoulder and stopped him from walking any further.

"I promise you that Chrissy's not like that. She would never outwardly judge someone like that. I'm living proof. She may have threatened to kick my ass if I didn't graduate, but she never made me feel bad about myself for struggling with school. I don't know what you think happened, but she wasn't judging you."

Steve shrugged.

"Whatever you say. I'm still letting her make the first move. I don't want to make the rest of the trip awkward if we're both wrong about her."

"I could talk to her if you want. Put some feelers to see if she's open to kissing all over that pretty face of yours."

"Don't. I think I've got this handled on my own."

"If that's what you want. The offer's still there though."

Once the group was back together, all talk of whatever was starting between Chrissy and Steve ceased. They got back on the road, and Chrissy abused her aux cord privileges by using them to allow Nancy to put on her personal metalhead playlist. They were making good time, but they didn't want to have to make too many stops if they didn't have to, so the group consensus was that it would be best if they just pulled through a drive-thru for lunch.

Of course, this only made Chrissy self-conscious of her eating habits again. She was trying to ignore the little voice in the back of her head that said she was too fat to enjoy fast food, but no matter what she did, it was still there.

When it came time for her to order, she got a children's order of chicken nuggets and a side salad with no dressing. It wasn't exactly an ideal lunch, but it would do in a pinch. And, since she ordered two items, maybe no one would notice that her lunch seemed so small compared to everyone else's.

Steve noticed though. He was the one placing all of their orders, so he knew exactly what each person was getting, and that meant he was well aware of how pitiful Chrissy's lunch was. She was the only person in the car who didn't ask for fries, and he knew that if it was him who hadn't ordered fries, he'd regret it as soon as everyone else had their food and he saw what he was missing out on.

So maybe he ordered extra fries for himself. That way he would be able to find a way to offer her some.

"Alright, I have another very important job for you as my passenger seat rider," he told her after they had their food and were back on the road.

"Lay it on me."

"I need to keep my hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road, so I need you to be my official fry feeder if you're up to it. Your reward for doing this very important job is that you can have as many of my fries as you want. I think I ordered way too many anyway."

"I think I can do that."

Chrissy fed Steve fries every so often. Mostly when he prompted her to, but occasionally she would just know when he was ready for another and have it waiting for him when he turned his head. She knew he told her to help herself, but she was struggling with whether or not it was okay to have them.

But she was on vacation. That was what Steve had told her the other night when they got ice cream. There was nobody there to tell her that the fries were bad for her, and it wouldn't kill her to have a little treat. Plus, her lunch wasn't exactly filling, and the fries were right there. She could let herself enjoy just a few right now and then choose something healthy for dinner. It was all about balance.

So, after feeding Steve another fry, she snagged a couple for herself and allowed this one tiny indulgence. The smile on Steve's face when he saw that she was eating went completely unnoticed.

"Pull over at the next rest stop," Nancy said from the backseat. "I need a bathroom break."

"Me too," Chrissy agreed.

Steve pulled in at the next gas station, and the girls ran off to get the restroom key from the gas station attendant.

"I'm gonna go grab a drink while we're here. You want anything?" Eddie asked.

"Nah. I'm good. I'll just stay here and keep the air running while you're gone."

Eddie started to make his way towards the gas station entrance, but he got distracted by a sign by the door. After a quick investigation, he was running to meet the girls by the bathroom door.

"Come with me if you wanna see something that has the potential to be really cool," he told them before leading them back behind the building. Waiting for them there was a small structure with a sign that read 'Museum of Weird Things.'

"Can we go in?" he asked practically bouncing with excitement.

"Only for a little bit," Nancy said. "I don't want to throw us too far off schedule."

Eddie practically pushed the girls into the building. None of them really knew what to expect, but it was actually a pretty interesting little shack. Sure, some of the weird things were random rocks that were supposed to look like celebrities and obviously photoshopped pictures of cows levitating because of UFOs, but there were some genuinely interesting weird things in there along with the laughable ones. The centerpiece of this roadside shack was a taxidermied squirrel with two heads and three extra arms. Eddie was the most fascinated by it, but Chrissy and Nancy thought it was pretty cool as well.

As they were examining the squirrel, Chrissy couldn't help but feel like something was missing, but she couldn't quite place her finger on what. Just as she had that thought, her phone went off in her hand. She checked her notifications, and the most recent one was a text from Steve in their road trip group chat. It was a selfie of him sitting in the car with a very forced and awkward smile, and he'd captioned it with 'having so much fun on this road trip with all my friends.'

"Oh no."

"What is it?" Nancy asked.

"We forgot about Steve."

"Shit," Eddie muttered. "Let's just go back to the car. He's probably pissed."

"No," Chrissy said as she stopped him from leaving. "You guys stay here, and I'll go grab him. The least we can do is allow him to give this place a look after coming here without him."

They let Chrissy run off, and as she approached the car, she couldn't help but feel guilty. She hadn't meant to forget about him waiting in the car. She'd just let herself get wrapped up in what Eddie wanted to do, and now she felt awful.

When she got to the car, she knocked on the driver's side window and got Steve to roll it down for her.

"I'm so, so sorry," she said as she leaned forward and rested her forearms on the car door. "Do you want to go see a squirrel with two heads and five arms?"

"I don't know," he replied. "Are you sure I'm wanted? Feeling pretty forgotten and lonely out here."

Steve was content to keep up the bit and play the jilted friend stuck waiting in the car, but he also really wanted to see that squirrel. She could see through his act though. If he wanted to play, she could play, too. She stuck out her lower lip in a pout and batted her eyelashes.

"Please come see the shack. For me?" she pouted. "How can you say no to this face? You can even hold my hand hostage again as a punishment again if you want."

Steve was not immune to how cute Chrissy was. There was no way that he could say no to her. Not when she was looking at him like that and offering to hold his hand again.

"I thought we agreed that me holding your hand wasn't a punishment?" he asked with a knowing smirk.

"So, I'll owe you one then. Two actually since I still owe you for sharing your tent with me last night. Now, will you please get out of the car and come with me?”

Steve rolled up his window and turned off the car before climbing out.

“I’m only going with you because I want to see the squirrel. I reserve the right to give Eddie and Nancy the silent treatment for as long as I want until they sufficiently make it up to me.”

He held out his hand for Chrissy, and she took it happily.

“Go easy on them,” she told him. “The squirrel is cool enough that you’d forget all about us, too. And maybe you could take a picture of Mister Fibbley with it? That might be cool, right?”

He gave her hand a small squeeze.

“I like the way you think.”

#cheerscoops #harringham #stissy #steve x chrissy #chrissy x steve #steve harrington x chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham x steve harrington #my writing #wyptif

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ooachilliaoo · 5 months

Text

In All But Name - Throne Room

“So, what precisely are we doing?”

He glanced around the corner, waiting until the guard patrolling the hallway got to the fourth door.

“Fulfilling a fantasy of mine,” he said. Then he pulled her into the corridor, racing on soft feet past the few doors required before slipping them both into the main hall.

“You fantasise about sneaking through your own castle?” she asked archly as the door closed behind them. “Have you been practicing your rogue skills?”

“Maybe a little,” he conceded. “I wouldn’t have managed to meet you all those times if I hadn’t gotten a little stealthier. But, no, that is not my fantasy.”

“Then what is?”

“So eager,” he drawled. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

The hall itself was rather beautiful in the full moonlight; the high windows sending beams of light into the chamber. One, he noticed with some glee, directly landed on his throne. He’d never noticed that before. Not that he’d been in the hall in the middle of the night before, to be fair, but he had seen it during the day. He ought to know where the light fell.

Though he hadn’t pictured it that way, she’d look even more spectacular in the moonlight…

He could hardly wait.

Quickly, he led them across the hall to the dais, where finally a queen’s throne had now been brought in to sit beside his own. If he’d had his way, he’d have made hers grander. Covered the entire thing in gold and jewels so it more properly reflected the person who sat on it. But, sadly, he had been overruled.

Now, though, he gestured specifically to his throne. “Sit.”

“On your throne?” she asked teasingly, as if she somehow knew that he’d spent a large portion of the time he’d spent sat in it thinking of her.

She wasn’t wrong. His most treasured fantasy had been quite specific. They were going to have to be quiet, of course. Something that they hadn’t proved successful at in the past. But while he’d managed to ensure that no guards would be patrolling inside the hall, he hadn’t been able to negotiate their removal from the corridors outside.

Hence the sneaking.

It wasn’t going to stop him. He’d waited years for her to finally be his wife. Not just so that he could act on this particular impulse, but he couldn’t deny that it had been quite a serious factor in his plans.

“Yes. Sit.”

Read the rest on AO3

Read the full series here

#alistair theirin #dragon age origins #dragon age #fanfic #King Alistair #alistair x cousland #dragon age alistair #alistair x femwarden #hope you all enjoy #C'mon this HAD to be a thing #practically required #In All But Name

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darkeralmond · 3 months

Text

In The Spotlight

TREVOR ZEGRAS X OC

October Series

synopsis: trevor meets hayden after the game and they hang out, the next day the band has to meet with aubrey to talk about a new album

warnings: language

word count: 2.8k

Fans poured out of the Honda Center arena happy with the 4 - 1 Ducks win. I stayed inside with Mal, Alex, and Wes as I anxiously awaited Trevor to come out and greet us. I would have some doubtful thoughts here and there such as, “What if he doesn’t show up?”

Mal rested her hand on my shoulder, “I’m sure he will.” She looked around, people still everywhere. “Just stay alert for people screaming ‘Oh my God! It’s Trevor Zegras’! That’s how we know he’s close by.”

I rolled my eyes as I tried my hardest to stop the smile that threatened to break through. It didn’t help that my cheeks now flushed with bright red heat against my already pale skin. “How will he even be able to find me through this crowd of people? There’s like at least tens of thousands of people here.”

Wes then looked behind me and smiled, “Like that.”

I turned around at the squeals that broke through the crowd. Before I could grasp what was happening, a sweaty casually dressed Trevor Zegras emerged through the valley of fans in awe around him. Some asked for pictures, some asked for autographs, and the others were too stunned by his presence to do anything.

My heart rate rapidly sped up as either a pit formed in my stomach or the butterflies had come back. His sky-blue eyes were fixated on me as a smile grew on his face. “Hayden Clarke,” he said, both enthusiasm and a New York accent slipping from his voice. “It’s so nice to see you again after all this time.”

A nervous smile made itself present on my face as he went in for the hug. Oh, okay! I thought as he wrapped his arms around me. As I embraced him, two things stood out to me. The first thing was our height distance. The last time I went to the doctor’s office in February, the nurse told me I stood at 5’4 and 3/4 — which is oddly specific. Since then I’ve assumed that I’ve grown to be about 5’5. Trevor stood at around 6’0, at least according to Google, and he looked it. Compared to me, at least.

I let go of the embrace and tucked some blonde strands of hair behind my ear. “It’s nice to see you again, Trevor,” I bashfully said. I struggled to maintain eye contact with him due to how sheepish he made me feel. “Have you met my band mates?” I asked him.

He shook his head and glanced over my shoulder before letting out a chuckle, “And I don’t think I will be.” My eyebrows furrowed as I turned around and found that the three of them had vanished. Those fuckers! I turned back to Trevor and forced a laugh, masking my aggravation with them. “Looks like I get to know you more now. Did you drive here?”

“Uh, Alex did actually. We all pretty much carpool together since we live together.” I shoved my hands in my hoodie pockets while looking up at him. His expression had soften compared to him earlier on the ice.

“Well, since your friends abandoned you… would you like me to give you a ride home?” My eyes grew as wide as they could. He’s already offering me a ride home? Is he trying to be prince charming?

My mom told me to never get into cars with men I’ve never met before. She didn’t want me to pop up missing, but I have Life 360 now, so what’s the worse that can happen? “Yes, please,” I answered.

Now we had to get through the mass of fans that crowded around us, shouting and taking pictures. I squeezed closer to him as I wrapped my arm around his, letting him lead us out to where ever he parked his car at. It had to be in some player reserved area, especially with the traffic coming out of the Honda Center.

Somehow, we lost the crowd of adoring fans which felt like a sigh of relief. “I haven’t seen a crowd like that since Miami!” I laughed as I glanced up at him. I still hadn’t let go of him, it felt comforting in a way. Maybe even a bit secure.

“It always feels like I’m in a pack of sardines when I’m near that exit,” he joked. “I should’ve told you to meet me by the locker room.”

I shrugged, “I don’t even know the lay out of the arena like that. Though it was one of the venues offered to us.”

Trevor dug in his sweatpants pocket and grabbed his keys from there. “Why didn’t you?” he asked as he unlocked the car.

My arm slowly let go of his as I made my way to the passenger seat of the car. “Because we were already performing at SDSU’s amphitheater. There was really no reason to go there and then drive an hour to Anaheim.”

Trevor chuckled as he answered, “Well, so I could see you guys perform obviously.”

“Should’ve just come to the SDSU one then,” I replied in a snarky tone.

His hand flew over his chest as his mouth popped open in a comedic way. I laughed looking at the obvious fake offense on his face. “You’re really mean you know that!” He then started the car up and began backing out of his parking spot. He placed his hand on the head of the passenger seat as he turned back to guide himself.

That was really attractive for no reason I could explain. He noticed before I was able to catch myself staring at him the entire time he did this with my jaw slacked. He smirked as he put the car into drive, facing forward again. “You also have a staring problem.”

“I thought you said I was talented,” I bit back. Bickering was the only way of flirting I could perfect.

“There’s a lot of things I’ve said about you,” he replied. “Mean, talented, surprisingly funny, and really pretty.”

That caught me off guard, I looked back at him with my eyes wide. “What?”

“I would dumb not to shoot my shot with you.” He glanced over at me, stopping at a stop light. He looked over at me, the red light being the only thing illuminating his face in the dark. “I tried to at your first gig, but you wouldn’t give up on caring that speaker back to the truck.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t have you do that. That’s how I met Aubrey and got us our record deal.” I glanced down at his phone which was plugged into the car and then back up at him. “I need your phone to put my address into, unless you already know where I live and avidly stalk me without my knowledge.”

“Oh, yeah,” Trevor said as he put in his passcode and gave the phone to me. The light flickered green and Trevor stepped on the gas pedal. “You might as well put your number in there as well.”

A smile cracked on my face as a giggle slipped out. He was such a smooth talker, it made me want to scream. I put the address into Waze, the directions immediately popping up on the car’s screen, then did as he told me to. I put my number into his phone before placing it in the cup holder.

“Is there anything you want me to get you to eat before I drop you off?” he asked, again glancing over at me with his bedroom eyes.

“Uh,” I hummed. “There’s an In-and-Out burger near my house. I only had popcorn at the game.”

“Thank God, Hay. I’m starving,” Trevor said as he turned in the direction the app told him to. I’m already Hay to him? That’s cute.

🎶

After I came home from hanging out with Trevor, I couldn’t sleep. Nothing happened like a kiss or anything, but the tension was unreal and that was only the first hang out. He wanted to meet again at Pearson Park on Sunday with Jamie and Mal. I agreed without any hesitation, especially since Mal would kill me if I ruined her opportunity to meet another Ducks player.

Now it was the afternoon and I sat on the couch, scrolling through Twitter. There were posts left and right about Trevor and I during and after the game. People were now speculating a possible relationship between us, which I now wouldn’t be opposed to.

One of the posts was from someone with a Trevor Zegras profile picture. They posted a picture they took of their TV screen showing my phone which said ‘Meet me after the game!’ and Trevor responding to it. The caption said:

THIS IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE!!!’

When I went onto Instagram, an Anaheim Ducks fanpage posted the same thing except it was the highlight and with the announcers. One of the guys said, “And there’s Hayden Clarke, lead singer of Pink Slip, shooting her shot with Zegras right there.”

“Technically he shot his shot first when he did that interview with Gina,” the other one responded.

It was kind of funny to see how viral this has already gone, and we haven’t even done anything.

Wes came out of his room with his burrito blanket wrapped around him. He yawned loudly before announcing his presence, “Good morning.” He had bags under his eyes and his hair was an absolute mess. I beamed at him and nodded my head, “Good morning!”

“Uh oh,” Wes laughed. “What did you and Trevor get into?”

I rolled my eyes with red cheeks and got up from the couch. I watched as Wes grabbed a mug from the cabinet and placed it beneath the coffee machine. “Nothing! I promise!” I pulled myself onto the counter and swayed my feet. “We just got food last night and we talked. He’s really sweet.”

“Is he boyfriend material?” Wes asked as the machine dispensed coffee for him.

“Okay. One, don’t ever say ‘boyfriend material’ again. Two, yes he is!” I chirped. “He said I was pretty and he did that sexy thing that guys do when they back out of parking spots and —” I heard my phone begin to ring, cutting my off from my talk about Trevor. Disappointment swept across Wes’s features as he was intrigued to hear more about my night with Trevor. I checked who was calling and saw it was Aubrey. I picked up the phone and put it up to my ear. “Hey, Aubrey. What's up?” I answered.

“Hey, Hayden!” she responded, “Is there any time I can see you all later today at the studio?” Wes leaned against the island next to me as he listened in on Aubrey and I’s conversation. He took a long sip of his black coffee.

I put the phone on speaker before I replied, “Uh, yeah! Alex and Mal get back around 2.” Mal and Alex were early birds unlike Wes and I, so they had gotten up early to get brunch. “It’s only Wes and I right now.”

“Hi, Aubrey!” Wes said to her.

“Hi, Wes!” she replied, I could hear the smile on her face. She always had one. “I should be free around then. I’ll give you a call if anything changes,” Aubrey said.

With that, I said bye and hung up the phone. Wes pulled himself up on the counter and said, “I wonder if she’s gonna talk about Trevor.” He then gasped and playfully hit me, “What if she says you two should date for publicity?”

“Who said it would be for publicity?” I shrugged my shoulders while smiling.

“Don’t tell me you’re already falling for him,” he said with a chuckle.

I placed a finger over my lips and simply shushed him. I snagged the mug from his hands and took a swig. The bitter hot coffee made my nose crinkle as the boiling liquid ran down my throat. “This stuff is poison. I don’t know how you can drink plain black coffee.”

🎶

We entered Hillister at 2:03 PM and made our way to the control room where we found Aubrey glued to her phone like a screenager. She sat on the rolly chair while on her phone. She perked her head up like a dog when we entered the room. “Hey, guys! Sit down! I have stuff to talk about.” She gestured us to a couch that would she still believed would fit all of us — which it never did.

I crammed in between Mal and Wes. “Okay, we need to talk about new music.” She clasped her hands together and leaned toward us. “You guys haven’t released an album since last year, let alone a single. The fans are expecting stuff from you guys. Especially you, Hayden.”

“Me?” I asked.

“Yes!” Aubrey exclaimed. “There’s so much buzz about you and Trevor. It’s all I’ve seen on my feed. Which good job by the way, he’s a cutie.” Mal nudged me with her elbow and cooed as I rolled my eyes, though I struggled to hide my smile. “I’m gonna call up Kayla and see if I can get her down here sometime this week to discuss ideas,” she said as she pulled out her phone.

Kayla was older than all of us, but younger than Aubrey. I loved her songwriting abilities. Not only was she was good, but it gave us less work to do. That was sort of the problem though. The music didn’t feel authentic when performing. I just equivalated it to performing a cover of a song no one knows.

“Uh, Aubrey?” I spoke up and shifted in my spot again. She perked her head up and let out a hum. “Could we try something new…?”

“Oh, you want someone else?” Aubrey tilted her head to the side slightly, her phone lowering as she looked at me. “I can find someone with a new sound, it’ll probably just take about 2 weeks instead of this one.”

I shook my head. “No. I, uh,” I stuttered and looked over at Alex and Mal who were looking at me just as confused as Aubrey. “I was wondering kind of wondering if we could, maybe, start writing our own music.”

“Huh?!” Alex asked aloud, his eyebrows knitted together. I could hear the loud slap he had received on his arm from Mal due to his verbal shock.

If you would’ve suggested to me a year ago writing music for ourselves, I would’ve said no. I was, and still am, sort of embarrassed by the stuff I came up with growing up. I also wasn’t the type of person to suddenly change my mind especially on stuff this big, but something about writing our own music just made sense. It’s why I wanted to form a band in the first place. “Are you sure, Hayden?” she asked.

I looked over at the three of them before answering, “Yes. I just feel it would really challenge us as a band and make our music feel more personal. It’s a better way for us to connect with our fanbase.”

She placed her phone down on her lap and nodded her head, “Uh, yeah! If you guys think you can do it. I would love it, but let’s get into details,” Aubrey said as she adjusted her position in her own seat. “I want to be able to have everything recorded by the end of November, mid December at the latest. I want something to put out by Spring of next year.” She spun around and grabbed her keyboard from the empty chair next to her and wrote down the requirements. At least a 10 track album, something to do with love as it could really promote sales.

She also wanted us to go on tour again, but she said logistics of that would be determined around spring when the album is planned to drop. She wanted it to be bigger and better than the previous tour we had over the summer.

“Hayden,” Aubrey placed both her hands down on the clipboard and again stared right at me. “I believe you will be America’s next punk pop princess, this band will be remembered for decades to come.”

#apricot’s fanfics #trevor zegras #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras x oc #trevor zegras smut #jamie drysdale

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trollcafe · 11 months

Text

Lucid

Google Docs Link

It was odd, looking at Jodiah. He looked so familiar. More than you expected. You had only ever seen him once before. You only remembered the incident because your kismesis was furious with you, for reasons you would never find out. He kicked you out of his hive for making Jodiah…freak out? Cry? You weren’t too sure, actually. You remembered the absolute anguish and horror in his eyes as they locked with yours. Hard to forget such stunning eyes. He said your name, then ran.

That was a far cry from what was happening now. He sat beside you at your kismesis’ table. He was on his palmhusk, barely paying you any attention, simply reading off instructions for Toresce. If you were the one reading off instructions for a recipe like that, well Tori would throw a pan at your head. Must have something to do with Dia being…small? Cute? Lime? You were none of those things.

“Hey Bub, can you pass Tori the pepper? On your right.” Dia’s mask was shut off to let his normal voice fill the void. You instinctively did as you were told, only realizing a few seconds after that he didn’t say your name. Who was Bub? Why were you Bub?

You didn’t get to ponder the question long. You must’ve froze after Toresce snatched the pepper from your hand…leaving your hand out in the open. Jodiah grabbed your robotic hand with such intense concern. A level of gentleness you hadn’t felt in quite some time. You blink, and any concerns about being called Bub were gone.

“What happened to your hand?” Dia pulled your hand towards himself, setting his palmhusk down. You shift to face him with a small smile.

“It’s, uh, a long story?” You offer with a sheepish shrug. Why were you nervous? You held up your other hand, waving the matching prosthetic.

“Both of them?!” Dia frantically snatched your other hand, bringing both to his level. You thought it was sweet at first. Then you noticed your kismesis, his moirail, Toresce, shooting daggers in your direction. Your face flushes a nervous blue. You meet his gaze and try to shrug to say you had no idea what was happening. You so rarely did. His flared fins don’t settle, but he does turn back to the pan.

“Wow…I bet that made playing bass a lot easier.”

[play this audio]

His words rush over you like ice water. He sat there so relaxed, just gently investigating the way your finger joints moved, as if his nonchalant words didn’t chill you to the bone.

“…what?” Are you feeling defensive? Shocked? Hurt? You glance towards your kismesis. For protection? Encouragement? Toresce didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he didn’t care. “No, I-“

Jodiah doesn’t let you finish, “Your hand? Your fingers were crooked after your hand got broken.” He finally looked at you again, brows furrowed in concern, “You don’t remember? I had to make the splint. You didn’t wanna go to the hospital so I did the best I could.”

Toresce finally turned away from the sizzling pan, only to ask a question you didn’t hear.

Your eyes trailed down from Jodiah’s bright eyes to your hand. The fog that constantly clouded your brain, that suffocated your every thought, that tormented you endlessly, it….moved. You stare at your hand with a slowly growing smile. You could see it. The fog lifted, and you could fucking see it.

You had broken your hand, and had crooked fingers. Oh, by the Messiahs did that feel so good. You could remember! Jodiah’s words blew away the segment of fog covering that specific memory up. You could picture it clearly. Jodiah lets your other hand free as he carries the conversation with his moirail. You turn your back to them both.

You cautiously pick up an imaginary bass guitar. You’d call it muscle memory if you still had those. Your right hand fell just at waist level, pinching an imaginary pick. Your left hand gripped the neck. Your pinky was straight, folded over your ring finger in a modified grip. The memories flooded your senses. The concerts in smoke-filled venues with speakers so loud you couldn’t even hear your own thoughts. You used two fingers to play, sometimes three when needed. It wasn’t ideal, but your hand was crooked. You remembered when you met Bruuno, how he helped you develop your own modified grip. He showed you musicians from sweeps ago who played with only two fingers. Fuck, it felt so good.

The fog had cleared just enough. What an amazing feeling. It was addicting, thrilling, hair-raising. You wanted to remember more. Remember everything. There was so much fog, so much under that shrouded surface. What else were you missing? What else did he know?

You turned back to Jodiah in a rush. Fuck their conversation. Fuck Toresce. This was more important.

“I remember now!” You exclaim, delighted. Jodiah cocks a brow as you continue, “I- I forgot- but I remember! My hand was crooked! I-..I lost my right hand first…but I stopped- I stopped playing when I lost my left…because I couldn’t get the grip right…with all four fingers.”

Jodiah’s eyes wrinkle around the edges in a way that suggested he was smiling. There was something in those eyes. Mischief? Delight? He took hold of your hand, your right hand, and pushed your sleeve back up to your elbow. A cautious finger traced an invisible line on your prosthetic.

“Do you remember the scars?” He continued to trace invisible lines on your arm. Detailing a map only he could see.

“Scars?” You were almost breathless in anticipation.

“You punched a mirror when you were four. It was bad, you bled everywhere. I wasn’t in med school then…but that was one event that made me want to be. I wrapped your arm up in my shirt.”

You were both silent for what felt like a long time. You desperately searched the fog, staring off into a space only you could see. Finally, it cleared, smearing like smog. The memory was fuzzy and dull but it was there. “….it was pink. A pink shirt.” You finally broke the silence. You could see the scars as he outlined them now, nodding. You had so many scars on that arm. You would rub them when you were nervous, or scared, or upset. You would start getting tattoos later in life to cover them.

“Mhm, that’s right.”

“Why?….why did I break the mirror?” You finally peel your eyes off your arm to meet his knowing gaze. He sighed, eyes softening with a thought you couldn’t yet see.

“His anger always rubbed off on you…it rubbed off on all of us.” Jodiah wasn’t looking at you anymore. He looked through you. At someone he must’ve cared about, with how gentle his rough features turned.

“…whose?”

Just like that, Jodiah snapped back. He blinked once, twice. The soft caring gleam in his eyes steeled up once more. He let go of your arm. You found yourself missing the nostalgia of his touch.

Like some kind of sick irony, his palmhusk went off. He turned away from you to read a message you weren’t meant to see.

“I have to go.” Before you could argue, he was gone. Your kismesis saw him out. He told you to watch the stove but you were lost in thought. Lost in the adrenaline of the fog clearing. Your eyes went back to your arm, back to the map of scars you could almost see in the metal. Your left hand brushes over your right arm. You thought you could feel them. You had so many questions, too many.

How did you break your hand? How did Jodiah know you?

Why did the fog clear; what more does he know?

What else have you forgotten? What is under all that fog?

Who was Marsie? And why is that not the person Dia was talking about?

#ghost.art #drabbles #jodiah monark #riptid canuis #toresce is homicidaltrolls #and marsie issssss byrdstrolls #i decided i dont care too much about the flipping tenses #however i highly recommend playing the audio #the audio is what remembering feels like to rip

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maythevoidnotscreamback · 9 months

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Story Idea: “The Silenced Prince”

Had a hit of inspiration lightning to the brain.

Was just re-reading “A Twist of Fate” by Mysterious_Prophetess, and started thinking about how “The Silent Prince” by Seren_Knight01 goes too.

Instead of the role swap being about a “Silent Prince”, especially when usually he’s not as silent in those stories as one would think since Zelda’s already in the picture by that point (not that I mind, hell no!), I’m thinking of how it’d be that it’s “The Silenced Prince”.

Be warned, this specific Role Swap idea is meant to have implications that aren’t true but certain characters think are until it’s (almost) too late depending on how one wants to finish the story.

Now such a premise is inspired by the mystery about how in BotW no one knows what caused Link to get a hold of the Master Sword. Just that he ‘found’ it when he was thirteen - at least that’s what I’ve read from others who’ve bought and read “Making a Champion”. So I was thinking, Prince Lincoln (Link for short) is trying to go draw the Sword but his father, after confronting Link’s constant attempts to go into the Lost Woods when before he hadn’t, isn’t letting him by making sure he can’t by keeping him imprisoned and seen by practically no one. Not because he wants Hyrule to burn but because he doesn’t understand about the connection between the Goddess and Her Hero from when Hyrule was first founded. He’s of the opinion, not helped by the honey-poisoned words of the prophet Astor, that Link is sick in the head now that he’s going through puberty and experiencing those urges. That Link wants the Sword as ‘proof’ he’s the Hero so that he can bed his own sister because she’s meant to be the Goddess Incarnate of their age.

But she’s not. Zelda is.

But the King doesn’t know such a thing is or could be possible. Only ever hearing that the Evil was fought back with the Power of the Princess and the Hero of their age. Because the few that had it as the Prince has long since been lost or destroyed or thought to be a fairy tale.

Link is adamant on getting his Sword but the King won’t have it even though Link is just as adamant that while he loves his sister he doesn’t love her like that, would never see her like that. Link knows The One for him isn’t even in the Castle right now, though he can’t say how he knows that, but the King isn’t listening. Astor ‘divining’ to him that Link’s lying so that he can get away, that he’ll try to find someone to make him a ‘fake’ Sword with their skills before killing them to keep it a ‘secret to everybody’, and it’s not like they could simply kill him off because it would look like the Castle can’t protect its inhabitants. How the people would panic, not to mention the Princess! Unfortunately, the King sees no other recourse than to find some Sheikah that are zealous in keeping ‘the Goddess Incarnate’ safe. Astor gives some recommendations of his own. After all, Impa can’t because she’s friends with his son in a way she can’t be with his daughter due to who she’s meant to be, not to mention she’s also the Royal Advisor. The two lead Scientists are useless too because they’re academics not strong warriors, not to mention busy with finding the various Guardian type caches and getting all the Guardians and Divine Beasts they have already found functional, which would be needed to subdue his son if ever he slipped his bonds. Once chosen, he swears said ‘Sheikah’ to secrecy on what they’re doing and lets them speculate on why since he’s not gonna confess to his son’s perversion regarding his sister, his precious baby girl whose strangely brown-threaded green colored magic causes plants to grow and/or turn toward her when she plays various tunes on the ocarina her brother made her for her birthday. The Prince is locked away. Rumors abound that he’s mad, that he thinks himself something he’s not, strangely though none of them make mention of the word ‘Hero’, (Astor had warned that the King would rather kill his son himself than let anyone think, even as a joke, he should let his son try for the Sword because what if? The horror and disgust... Would he have to let Link...? No! Just... no! In such a case, it’d be better for the Hero to reincarnate than think of what traumas his baby girl would go through spiritually, emotionally, physically, and mentally because of some sick twist in Destiny’s tapestry regarding the Goddess and Her Hero) but the King and Princess love him too much to just let him be put down like a dog. He was still the Prince after all, “cursed as being a Prince of Hyrule is” some people say because they remember reading about the story of the Legendary Sleeping Princess, even though he wouldn’t be inheriting the Throne. That he needs to be gagged so he doesn’t chew his tongue off in his madness. In all actuality, the gag’s a special device that helps to feed him specially made potions that keeps him docile, an especially potent dose given when he’s being taken to be cleaned or use the bathroom, while also making sure he doesn’t starve or dehydrate to death. (Can’t give the Hero a chance to reincarnate can they? Not until it was too late. And hopefully by then they’d have figured out how to stop it to make sure His reign lasts forever. Kekeke.) Soon enough, people don’t speak of the Prince at all, act like he’s already dead, because it upset the Princess. That her beloved brother had been destined to go mad because he was a man of their blood while she was destined to save their land for being a woman of their blood. Fortunately, the Hero is always made stronger than others, made of sterner stuff. It’s through Fi’s connection to her master that she’s able to direct key ingredients of the potions introduced to his system courtesy of the ‘Sheikah’ looking after him to keep her master from atrophying or languishing in his confined isolation. (Said ‘Sheikah’ getting a lil’ freaked out because he seems to be keeping or even building muscle instead of losing it even though he’s shackled to the wall unless taken to the bathroom.) Fi’s connection to the Goddess also lets her send him dreams of Her Grace to keep his spirit fighting and hopeful. After all he’s once gone through this Before, even though it’s been so long, so many lives, since it happened. Zelda on the other hand is taught by her mother the basics of magic. Neither of them commenting on the golden color hers takes because ‘magic comes out in all sorts of colors’, it’s just that she has it that matters. It is Zelda herself who experiments with what she can do with her powers, even after her mother dies. She can make her own type of bomb by inscribing a round ball with a spell to keep the ingredients within from reacting until said ball has broken open, and keeping said ball from breaking accidentally by putting in a pin that needs to be pinched and a bit of force used to be pulled away (Hyrule’s version of a grenade). She can conjure chains that can keep something immobile for a short time depending on how strong it is. She can inscribe a spell into a tooth brace/cover to Seal harmful substances within it before getting rid of it. (she learned the hard way to find something else when using that spell when the tooth she originally inscribed ached something fierce, it had since rotted black due to her experiments, until it was pulled out, she wasn’t going to lose all her teeth just to keep herself safe) She starts getting upsetting dreams around her twelfth birthday that she can’t explain. For sometimes the young man, a teenager who steadily grows into an adult as she does, she sees chained to the wall within is a lot older, at least in his thirties if not late twenties. What’s more is she just knows he’s the same person, strange as that claim is. The young man always seems gagged while the older one isn’t. The young one has wheat gold hair while the older one has hair so blond as to look white or even silver. The young one’s legs look fine but the older one’s don’t. She doesn’t know what it means when she once dreamed that she asked the older one if he would fight while presenting him a Sword she felt was so familiar but that she’s never seen before. (In case no one realizes, I’m taking liberties regarding the SS prequel manga that can be found within Hyrule Historia) She’s so embarrassed about the few dreams she has of the older one who seems to be making love to her! Why was it never the one who looks closer to her own age doing that?! Goodness! But no matter what type of dream she has of him, whether he’s older or younger, she sees his eyes are a determined blue that she sees gaze at her with such devotion and adoration and love she felt she might be or could turn into a Goddess if such blasphemy would not get her smote should she speak that aloud.

And then she’s found to have quite the affinity for the Ancient Sheikah Tech. It’s Purah who brings her to the Castle to help bring in the money for her sick Father while her father’s other loved ones take care of him for her. It’s while residing in the Castle that she starts hearing something she couldn’t describe without sounding crazy. Was it a heartbeat, one which ‘felt’ for lack of a better word familiar, that strangely sounded like it was crying out for help? Was it a melody, she’d swear they were words if she were feeling illogical, that was calling her to follow? No one else seems to hear either type of sound, not even the Princess. It’s after one of her dreams of making love with that man that she takes a walk to get rid of her restless energy. The melody somehow guiding her to a secret passage that is choked with dust. It obviously hadn’t been opened in a long while. Hmm... Where was she going to find herself if she used it? What was she going to find at the end of it? The melody that had called her to follow had since turned into the heartbeat that called for help. What would be the consequences? Well, only one way to find out.

I don’t know how this one would end. Just... had to get it out there and hope someone is inspired. One doesn’t have to use the idea wholesale if they want to use it or feel they have a better way to do it. I’d just like to ask for credit for the inspiration if you wish to try making something of it.

#zelink #zelink fanfiction inspiration #role swap au #legend of zelda #botw au #Story idea

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

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A Redemption Earned Ch 21

Heather Dunbar x fem!reader Warnings: minor mentions of Heather's past chaos.

You jogged up the stairs to Heather’s front door, letting yourself in, shaking the misting of snow off your coat. You’d exchanged keys back before Christmas to make it easier to come and go between houses considering Heather might end up working odd hours, or if she wanted to have dinner ready and waiting by the time you got home to your own place. You hung your coat up, stepped out of your boots and left your bag on the entrance table, swiping your phone and tucking it in the back pocket of your jeans. You could hear the television playing softly and figured Heather was in the living room despite the lack of light coming from that direction you headed that way anyways. A small lamp was on in the corner, illuminating a soft glow around the room, your head tilted in confusion when you found Heather sitting on the floor in front of the couch. A couple of small piles of photo albums surrounding her along with a couple of larger cardboard boxes, papers scattered around covering the floor. You weren’t totally sure as her back was to you, but you were almost certain she was crying.

“Heat?” You greeted softly and she nearly jumped. Her hand darting up to wipe at her eyes as she sniffled, glancing at her watch.

“Fuck, I didn’t realize it was so late already.” She started to gather up a couple of the papers as you crossed the room, sinking to the ground beside her.

“What is all this?” You asked, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of her head as your eyes scanned a couple of the papers. It looked like art projects, colouring, things you’d much more expected to find at your house rather than hers.

“The kids…” she sniffled again, letting out a weary sigh, “I went looking for something to add to the wall,” she gestured to the bare wall behind the couch where she’d hung up the art you’d made all those months ago, “even with your painting it’s a little bare in here. I got to thinking about putting up some stuff like you said, make it more like someone actually lives here rather than a show home.” Her eyes focussed on the television for a moment, a small smile creeping onto her cheeks and when you followed her gaze you realized it must’ve been old family videos, a VCR even hooked up to it. “I was looking for a specific photo frame, but I found all this instead…”

“I didn’t realize Becca did ballet.” You commented and she let out a watery laugh.

“She certainly didn’t want to. And don’t ever let her know you’ve seen this, she’ll kill me.”

“You just having a nostalgia mom moment?” You asked, your fingers softly smoothing her hair behind her ear and she let out a weary sigh, her gaze dropping to her lap. She reached out, picking up a photo from a Father’s Day dinner when the kids had been in elementary school and a tear managed to sneak its way out of her eye, running down her cheek. She wasn’t in the picture, and naturally it wasn’t because she took it, it was because she hadn’t been there.

“More like realizing just how much I missed out on.” She placed the picture back into the shoebox it belonged in, looking back up to the tv, “ballet was one of the very first things we actually fought about. My mother made me take it, to help with the discipline and control, I enrolled Becca for the same reasons. At first she wanted to go all the time, she wanted to keep dancing, she loved it. My mother showed her pictures and videos from when I was her age and it was something Becca wanted to do to be like me.”

“That’s adorable.” You smiled, your hand squeezing at hers softly and she let out a little laugh, shaking her head.

“Rob taped this. Because I couldn’t make it to the recital. Becca came home all excited with her medal, wanting to show me how well she’d danced and I couldn’t be bothered to look up from my paperwork. Some mom I was. She told us she wanted to quit dance the next week, I told her no, we’d paid in full for the year. So every Saturday she would get dressed like she was going and Rob would take her for ice cream instead. That was like, the beginning of the end…”

“And you two have found new ground and started over, remember?” You nudged at her gently with your elbow and she looked over at you.

“Yeah. I know she forgives me for most of it now but looking back at some of this stuff is helping me realize just how absent I was, how much of a parent I could have been to them then. And I wish I had.”

“And that’s growth.” You smiled softly, happiness floating through you when she returned the smile, leaning in to kiss you.

“Thank you.”

“You look like you’ve been at this for a while.” You gestured around the room and Heather laughed, nodding.

“I took a half day, there wasn’t much going on at the firm.”

“You eat lunch?” You raised a brow and Heather nearly rolled her eyes at just how well you knew her and her bad habits.

“No.” She admitted and you pressed a kiss to the top of her head as you stood.

“You stay here, I’ll be back in a bit.”

Heather watched you leave the room, a smile still on her face, there were days she still couldn’t believe just how lucky she was. To not only have gotten this second chance, but to have her family by her side, and to have found someone who was able to look past her failures and do nothing but support her future. She shifted forward, stopping the ballet tape and ejecting it from the VCR, while the images of little Becca dancing her heart out did bring her joy, it also brought a lot of other conflicting emotions with it, and she’d hit her limit for that today. Her fingers shifted through the other tapes, a handful of them unmarked, one simply labelled, ‘birthdays’, figuring that was a safe bet she popped it into the player and hit play before leaning back on the couch.

It clearly wasn’t in any kind of chronological order, the first one that popped up was Becca’s sixteenth, a party that while she had appreciated it, she thought everything about it was over the top. Which was pretty natural for Becca once she’d hit her pre-teen era. Heather was honestly glad that she’d resented her family’s wealth so much, branching out on her own and not relying on family money. It had made Becca into the woman she was today, one that Heather was immensely proud of. There had been a very high chance she could have just skated easily through life and turned out to be an entitled brat, which the old Heather probably would have loved, but not anymore.

“This looks like an episode of my super sweet sixteen.” You laughed as you came back into the room, handing Heather a bowl of mac and cheese.

“It could have been.” She laughed in return, thanking you for the food and the bottle of water you handed her before moving back into the kitchen to grab yours and returning to her side on the floor. She took a small bite of macaroni, chewing it down before glancing up at you and letting out a happy sigh, “I love you.”

“It’s frozen mac and cheese Heat, I assure you it’s not that good.” You teased back and she rolled her eyes, swatting at your arm.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know.” You laughed, leaning in to kiss her cheek, “I love you too.”

The tv screen blared static for a minute before it popped back up to another home video, this one much older than the last. A barely one year old Jordan being passed from Rob to an older woman,

“Is that your mom?” You asked.

“Rob’s.” She replied, “much nicer than mine, honestly not that bad of a mother in law.”

“I’m assuming that’s Jordan?”

“Yeah.” She replied, a little happy smile on her face as she watched the screen, “my sweet boy. He really was a great kid; he just fell in with the wrong crowd at boarding school. Two to twelve were his prime years, before he was too cool for his mom.” You watched for a moment, Rob’s attention pulled off camera before his arm wrapped around someone, pulling them into frame and you realized it was Heather.

“Oh my god you’re adorable.”

“Stop it.” She turned her gaze to you, soft smile on her cheeks as she watched you watch the tape for a moment before turning back to the tv. “God I remember being absolutely miserable that day. Six months pregnant in the middle of a heat wave trying to keep Jordan under control and let Rob actually enjoy his birthday.”

“You look really fucking young, how old were you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Jesus. No wonder you had so many nannies, you were a fucking baby yourself.” Heather laughed lightly, letting out a little sigh.

“We planned Jordan; I knew I wanted to get the whole kid thing out of the way early on. If we didn’t, I was sure we’d both be in our forties and realize time had flown by and it was too late. I had him the summer after we both graduated college.”

“You’re really cute pregnant.”

“Don’t get any ideas.” She warned with a tease and you laughed, “I hated it, absolutely hated it. After Jordan was born I told Rob there was no way in hell I was going through that again while in law school, so we put a pin in it. But Becca’s never been one to stick to a fucking plan…”

“You were at Harvard, pregnant, with a baby, barely legal yourself?”

“Yeah.” She sighed wearily, “Becca was born the beginning of my second year, and my god she was a fussy baby. Even from conception, my pregnancy with her was way worse than with Jordan, then after she was born it was just exhausting. Jordan slept through the night from the start, not Becca, up all hours screaming which would wake up Jordan, God the lungs on that girl.” She laughed, shaking her head at the not so fond memories, “and of course, I had to be perfect, the perfect student, the perfect wife, perfect mom, everything by the book. But Becca, she refused to latch, never once was I able to actually breastfeed her. I felt like a failure with her, it’s honestly no wonder our relationship fell apart.”

“Well you didn’t fail her in the end, did you?” Your hand snuck into her lap, squeezing at her hand and she smiled up at you.

“I’m just so fucking thankful for Rob, we’re all so lucky to have him, he was an incredible dad from day one.” Her eyes swung back up to the screen, smiling at the way Rob pressed a kiss to her baby bump before scooping Jordan up from the floor for a round of airplane.

“He really was meant to be a dad, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, “god those first few years were rough.”

“Well I can imagine!” You laughed, “two kids under two while you’re in law school and he’s in med school?”

“I’ve never known exhaustion like that.”

“I would’ve dropped out.” Your bowl of food now empty, you placed it to the side and leant into Heather, your head resting on her shoulder while your arm wound into hers, interlacing your fingers. The screen went to static again, the picture replacing it footage from Jordan’s tenth birthday, kids running and screaming around the backyard. “That house is fucking huge.” You commented and Heather chuckled.

“That’s the guest house.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes.” She laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The camera panned around the yard, pausing briefly on Rob who gave an enthusiastic wave from behind the grill before it moved on to watch Jordan do a very over the top belly flop into the pool, the actual house half in frame behind him. “That would be the house.”

“Is that the place over on Fessenden that’s been up for sale for like, six months?”

“That would be the one.”

“I drove past it on the way here today and I won’t lie, I’ve debated going to one of the open houses to see the inside of it.”

“Well you don’t need an open house for that.” She laughed, “I’ve still got the keys until it’s sold.”

“You’re the one selling it?” Your head shot off her shoulder and she laughed.

“Yes. I left it sitting empty when I left Washington. It was still partially trashed but I thought Becca or Rob might want to go back to it, and it was part of me that I was still clinging to. Becca helped me get things fixed up last year and it’s just been sitting on the market since.”

“Is it still partially furnished?” You asked, your eyes back on the tv as the camera followed a tiny Becca through the back door and into the house, your gaze nearly glazing over at the sheer vastness of it. Heather saw the look in your eyes and raised a brow, a grin taking over her cheeks,

“You want to fuck in the fancy house don’t you?”

“Yes.” You turned back to her, nodding vigorously, “yes I very much do.”

“Well…” she leaned in with a smirk, stealing a gentle kiss, “I’ll call the realtor and tell him not to bring anyone by after five on Saturday and we can play dress up.”

“I like the sound of that.” You laughed softly, meeting her lips for another tender kiss before you sunk back onto her shoulder.

You spent the next couple of hours just like that, Heather reminiscing on little bits of her kids childhoods, the family parties with Rob, grandparents, friends from work. You saw videos of Christmas mornings, exuberant presents piled up in front of the tree for everyone (and boy oh boy did you tease Heather when the apple watch presents showed up), New Year’s Eve’s of them watching the fireworks, summer vacations up in Connecticut. Trips out on the boat, nine year old Becca opting to go fishing with her dad instead of stay lounging on the boat with her mom. Heather told you stories about how Becca and Rob turned it into a monthly thing during the warmer weather, they loved their little daddy daughter fishing trips.

Heather found herself very surprised when an unmarked DVD popped up with footage from Jordan’s twenty-fifth birthday. She didn’t even really realize which year it was until you spotted Nat in the background of a shot and mentioned it. She felt a misting of tears build in her eyes, this was probably the last footage of Jordan before he died, the last somewhat good memories of her son, happy, surrounded by people who cared about him. She sniffled a little bit, her heart swelling as she felt your thumb wipe away a runaway tear, turning her gaze to you instead. It all tumbled out of her before she even realized, the stories of Jordan that she’d held on to for so long, how at her absolute rock bottom she knew she was to blame for everything but still tried to blame someone else. How she felt like a failure of a mother for it, and you assured her she wasn’t, that she did everything she could to right her wrongs. That Jordan would definitely be proud of the woman she had become today. You knew Jordan was still a sore spot for her, and probably always would be, but you would always thank her for sharing those intimate details of the part of her life she protected the most with you. Each time Jordan’s name came up between the two of you, she was more relaxed and open than the last, and that was progress.

You were watching vacation videos, clips of Becca and Jordan running amuck at Disney World (and let’s be honest, Rob was just as excited as the kids were), you nestled into Heather’s shoulder when she looked down at you. You had a happy little smile on your cheeks, warmth from the loving family vibes and she let out a little sigh.

“Are you sure you don’t want kids?”

“I have twenty of them from nine to three every day, I’ve gotten my fair share.” You assured her and she kissed the top of your head.

“You don’t feel like you’re missing out on any of this family stuff? The Christmas mornings?”

“Nope.” You twisted your head to look up at her, “your family’s my family, and the thirty year old you’ve got is chaotic enough for me.” You both laughed at that, Heather reminding you that you still had yet to experience the full on gremlin chaos.

While the videos continued to play on in the background you started to go through all the other stuff that was in the boxes Heather had pulled up from the basement. Comparing art projects and colouring pages, laughing at how terrible some of them were, and how hilarious the family self portraits were. By the end of the evening you’d watched most of the videos and had selected a few art projects to go up on the wall beside your framed one.

You helped Heather go through the photo albums, making sure they were organized and presentable before finding them homes around her living space, accessible to whomever might want to look through them and smile at fond memories. You selected a few prime ones to display in frames or up on the fridge, ones that Heather would smile at, remembering the moments she felt like a good mom, that she had succeeded with her children.

You packed away the rest of it, Heather insisting she would take it downstairs the next day as you started to yawn. She pressed a tender kiss to your cheek and guided you upstairs where you got ready for bed together in a wordless routine. Climbing under the covers you both made sure you had the correct alarms set for the morning and curled into each other.

“I love you.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to Heather’s neck.

“I love you too.” She replied, her lips hitting the top of your head as her arms squeezed around you.

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