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billybob598 · 4 months

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Were You Gay-Panicking? (Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader)

IM BACKKKKK!!! Here's my bi-monthly fic :) I'm actually kinda proud of this one, felt like some good writing. Anyhoo enjoy bitches! As always, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! PEACE

Summary: (first time doing one of these) A few months ago, Kyra had no idea who you were. Now? Now, she was gay panicking everytime she was in the same room as you.

Word Count: 4.6K (WTF?!?!?!?!?!)

Kyra didn’t exactly know how to feel about you. Sure, you were Aussie. Sure, you were an amazing fullback who could run forever and never seem winded. Sure, you were quite possibly the sweetest person ever. Sure, you were stunningly beautiful. Kyra paused, her eyes locked onto you as you laughed that adorable laugh at something Katie had said. Okay, the thing about you being beautiful kind of slipped out. It’s not like it’s not true though. You did have this just natural beauty to you, you barely wore makeup, but you still shone in Kyra’s eyes.

It was crazy that the two of you had never met before. You were roughly the same age, both Australian and now both Gunners. Unlike Kyra, you’re career up until this point had been riddled with injuries and unfortunate coincidences. Despite being an integral part of the Arsenal squad and having a breakout year last season, you were still not chosen for the World Cup, or any national team camps for that matter. Kyra had heard plenty about you from Steph and Caitlin, she had also seen you a bit on a few of the other Arsenal players' socials. You did have an Instagram account, but you rarely posted. Any true Arsenal fan knew who you were, but casual fans and Matildas’ fans probably hadn’t heard of you. You preferred to work in the background, you weren’t a big extrovert and your personality was more closed off so, consequently you weren’t insanely popular with the fans. So, when Kyra officially met you she had no idea how you weren’t the most liked player.

4 months ago

After finishing some of the required videos and finally signing her contract for The Arsenal, Kyra found herself wandering around the grounds. She had a few minutes until she was supposed to be at a press conference introducing all of the new signings, so she figured she could start exploring London Colney a bit more. As she passes through the locker room she hears some noise coming from the pitch. The distinctive sound of a boot colliding with a ball lures the Australian outside. The scent of fresh-cut grass and marking paint rushes into Kyra’s nose, bringing a soft smile to her face. Another ball gets kicked on the other side of the field. Turning her head, the midfielder is met with the sight of the prettiest woman she’s ever laid eyes on. She watched in awe at how your muscles flexed each time you struck the ball, her breath catching in her throat when you turn around. Your beautifully Y/E/C eyes glimmering, the sun hitting them just right.

“Oh, sorry. I thought the field was open.” You mutter quietly, your face heating up slightly.

“Uhm, it’s alright. I’m not here to play or anything. I mean-uh, well actually I am here to play, but not right now. At least I don’t think rig-” Kyra stumbles through her sentences until your giggle cuts her off. She blushes at the sound.

“No, I get what you mean,” you both stand there awkwardly, shifting your weight from foot to foot nervously, “Well, I should probably get going.”

“Wait! Uhh, I mean you sound Australian, you are right?” Kyra asks, desperate to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, yeah I am. I’m from Geraldton, you?” Your voice is quiet, but Kyra is already in love with it.

“Herston, have you ever been?”

“Yeah, I mean I’ve been to Brisbane, it’s nice.” The conversation comes to a awkward lull, Kyra can see how nervous you are.

“I’m Kyra by the way.” She extends her hand out to you. Glancing at it, you smile softly and take it.

“I know, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you. I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“You’re the Y/N Y/L/N? Holy shit, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you.” A small blush forms on your cheeks. Kyra swoons at how flustered you look. She takes another second to admire everything about you. Just as she went to speak again a voice from behind her called out, telling her the press conference was about to start. “I’m really sorry, I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” With one last smile, Kyra begins to back up and then turns and jogs to the man waiting for her. Tentatively, you touch your cheeks where the blush was still, very prominently, there.

2 months ago

You watch from afar as Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph swing around from the bars singing along to Strawberry Kisses. A smile appears on your face when Kyra lets out a loud, silly laugh.

A voice startles you out of your love-possesed trance, “You know, you’re really not subtle, like, at all.”

“Shut up, Beth.” The England national smirks and for the next fifteen minutes proceeds to tease you about your developing crush on the new signing.

“Okay, Beth, I think she gets it.” Your saviour, Viv, intervenes after her girlfriend makes a kissy face aimed towards you and Kyra. Beth groans and mumbles something about Viv not being any fun. Viv lets you go back to watching Kyra workout/goof around for a few moments before throwing her two cents in,

“You like her? Like, like like her?”

You sigh, “I don’t know yet. Would it be terrible if I did?”

Viv shakes her head with a small chuckle, “Would it be terrible if you found someone you really liked and someone who is genuinely a good person? No, it’s not that bad.” You roll your eyes.

“It feels pretty terrible. But, I guess it’s not too bad, especially since she’s never gonna like me back.” The older woman gives you a look, one that screams “you’ve got to be joking right now”. You and Viv had a certain connection to each other. Both of you were introverts on a team full of extroverts, so it was nice to have someone who didn’t mind just sitting in peace and quiet without any of the pressure of having to be “on”.

“If Kyra liking you back is so crazy, then why is she staring at you right now with literal heart eyes?” Your head whips forward to find Kyra already looking at you. A blush was already creeping up your neck and you hadn’t even held eye contact for more than two seconds.

Kyra is watching you carefully when your head turns to look at her. Her heart flutters when your cheeks tint red. A sense of pride swells in her chest at being able to make you blush.

“You two make me sick,” Caitlin says from behind Kyra. Steph is quick to shush the younger Aussie,

“They’re just in love, Cait. You can’t stop young love,” she says an annoying smirk tugging at her lips. Kyra rolls her eyes at her national teammates antics.

“We are not in love. She definitely doesn’t like me, mate.”

“Sure,” Caitlin drawls out, seemingly unconvinced.

“She doesn’t. I’m like 1000% sure.”

“Then why does she blush everytime you look at her, smile at her, or laugh?” Steph says, amused.

“Wh-What? No, she doesn’t. I think I’d notice.” The two older Aussies share a look, then they grab Kyra’s head and force it to look at you. Your eyes widen when you and Kyra make eye contact, heat already rushing up to your cheeks. She gives you a warm smile which does nothing to help your burning cheeks. Deciding that you’ve had enough biking for today, you step off the bike extremely ungracefully, bumping into everything and everyone. Kyra giggles from across the gym, her Australian friends rolling their eyes.

“See? You two are so in love,” Steph tries to convince the younger girl. A frown replaces the small smile on Kyra’s face when you leave the gym,

“Whatever. You guys suck.”

2 weeks ago

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Tony Gustavsson’s calm voice brings you back to reality.

“Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” Your voice is shaky and weak. Someone’s warm hand covers yours, lifting your head up, your met with Kyra grinning from ear-to-ear. Returning her smile, you say your goodbyes to Tony and place the phone down carefully on the kitchen counter.

You were, once again, at Kyra’s apartment. The two of you had grown closer over the past few months, unknowingly both of you had swallowed down your feelings for each other, convinced the other didn’t feel the same. It was driving the rest of the team crazy, and it was about to get worse. Finally, you had gotten your first call-up to the national team.

You and Kyra had been cozied up on her couch, watching a Christmas movie (because it’s never too early to start is it?) when your phone had began to ring. Of course, Kyra had already received her call a few days ago. It was hardly surprising, after the World Cup and with her recent performances for Arsenal she was an obvious choice for the last two friendlies of 2023. You, on the other hand, had long given up your dream of playing for the national team. Being a little bit older than Kyra and a lot more injury prone, your caps for the Matildas stood at a resounding, zero. You had never even been to a camp. So, last year when Tony never so much as gave you a call, you put your Matildas dreams behind you and focused on your club football.

“Who is it?” Kyra mumbles sleepily, she had been on the verge of falling asleep, it was impossible not to. You were perfectly situated between her legs, your head resting comfortably on her chest. The movie did little to distract her from the scent of your perfume infiltrating the hoodie she was wearing.

“I don’t know, Ky. It looks like an Australian number.”

“Wait, I know whose number that is.” She says, now fully awake.

“Who?”

She takes a deep breath, trying to hide her smile, “It’s Tony’s. Like Tony Gustavsson. The head coach of-”

“Yes, I know who Tony Gustavsson is! You don’t think he’s calling to invite me to camp is he?” You exclaim, your nerve levels rising as the phone continues to ring.

“Only one way to find out.”

Standing up, phone in hand, you take a breath before accepting the call. Kyra sits up on the couch, her hands loosening her grip on your waist.

“Hello?” Slowly making your way to the kitchen, Kyra only catches your side of the conversation. She takes a seat at the counter watching nervously as you pace back and forth in front of her. You pause. It looks like you’re trying to process everything. “Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” A full-on grin breaks out onto Kyra’s face, she reaches across the counter and takes a hold of your hand. After hanging up, there is silence in the small apartment for a few seconds.

“So?” Kyra prompts softly.

“I’m going to play for fucking Australia!” You shout excitedly. You both squeal happily, Kyra rushes over and brings you into a tight hug.

“Now we’re national teammates as well!” Kyra says into your neck, her heart pounding as you laugh your beautiful laugh.

Over the next few days Kyra helps you pack for camp, telling you all of the basic information you’d need to survive while also filling you in on all of the important bits about the team itself. Who’s friends with who, what not to say to this person, why this person acts like this. She was surprisingly helpful. So, when you, Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph boarded the flight to Australia you actually felt pretty prepared. Kyra sat beside you on the flight, chatting your ear off, you didn’t really mind though. It was how your friendship went. Kyra would talk about anything and everything, while you listened carefully, never ignoring her. She found it endearing how you remembered everything she said, sometimes she didn’t even remember herself.

An few hours into the flight, Steph leans across the aisle asking Kyra if she knew who is supposed to bring them to the hotel when they land. Kyra remembers saying something to you about it so she turns and taps your shoulder. Taking out one of your earbuds, you look at them, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, do you know who’s supposed to be picking us up? I think I said something about it to you,” Kyra asks quietly, so as not to interrupt the other passengers.

“William.” You answer plainly. Kyra nods while Steph watches in shock.

“How in the hell did you know that? You don’t even know who that is.”

“Kyra told me last night, she also told me that she couldn’t wait to ride the ferry to Vancouver Island when we get to Canada.” Kyra blushes.

“I can’t believe you remember that,” she says, slightly embarrassed.

“It’s kind of hard not to when it’s all you would take about for ten minutes.”

Steph has to cover her laugh at Kyra’s mortified face.

“Is that seriously all I talked about last night?”

“You tend to do that. It’s actually kinda cute.” That last bit slips out before you can stop it. Now, you’re the one blushing. You decide it’s better to look out the window than to keep looking at them. Steph wanted to strangle the both of you. God, you were so oblivious. How could neither of you see that you were head over heels for each other? Whatever, you’d figure it out. Hopefully sooner than later because she had five pounds on you guys getting together before the new year.

After landing and grabbing your luggage, just as you said, William was there with a car to bring you all to the hotel the team was staying at. Walking into the lobby, cameras point at you four. Kyra and Caitlin grin and wave goofily at them, probably saying something stupid as well.

Steph smiles and waves happily, “Good to be home, huh?”

You walk behind them, looking up and waving at the cameras shyly, “Alright?”

“Hey, Y/N! Wanna do a quick interview with the other first timers?” One of the social media guys asks from behind the phone camera. Kyra stops. You look at her, uncertainty looming in your eyes.

She nods encouragingly, “Go on. I’ll take your stuff and get your room.”

“Thanks, Ky. I’ll see you later.” You smile and follow the man heading in the other direction.

“So that’s the girl you like!” Charli shouts from across the lobby.

Kyra flinches at the volume of her best friends voice, “Jesus Christ, Charli. Could you be any louder?”

“Wanna bet?” Kyra shakes her head, not wanting to see how far Charli can take things today. “She’s really pretty, I can see why you like her.” The blonde says in a much more indoor appropriate voice. Kyra just rolls her eyes in response.

After a few good days of training and getting to know everyone, the team was in Canada. Walking onto the ferry with your hoodie drawn tight to you and your toque covering the top of your head, Kyra was bouncing off the walls with excitement and energy.

“Kyra, for the love of God, please calm down.” Mini says, trying her best to calm the young midfielder down. Her words have no effect, Kyra continues doing laps around everyone. You were walking Sarah Hunter, another player about to earn their first cap, when Kyra gets in front of you and turns backward to talk to you.

“Hi Y/N! Aren’t you excited about the ferry?” She asks. Her hyperness, you notice, was starting to annoy some of your teammates, specifically Caitlin, who looked on the verge of pushing her Arsenal teammate into the Pacific Ocean.

“I am, Ky,” you lower your voice so only those close to you can hear, “But how about we tone it down, okay? We have lots of time to be excited, but maybe just chill for a few minutes so they can tell us where to go and what not, how’s that sound?”

Kyra listens to you, she falls into step with you and speaks a lot softer and calmer.

Mini stares on in disbelief, “Oh, Kyra is down bad. I mean, she didn’t even listen to me, but as soon as Y/N says something she’s on her best behaviour.”

Steph shakes her head, “You should see them at Arsenal, it’s unbearable.”

You and Sarah were in deep conversation about something Kyra couldn’t care less about. She wanted to go explore the ship, but she promised you she’d be on her best behaviour. Kyra is getting antsy and you can tell, she keeps turning her head every time there’s a new sound. You just needed to get wherever the guide wanted you guys to be and then she can do whatever she wants. Just as the team passes the gift shop, Kyra almost bolts. You catch her though, your hand intertwining with hers and securing her at your side. Kyra is taken aback by your actions and blushes profusely.

In a break in your conversation with Sarah, you lean over and mumble into Kyra’s ear, “I know, Ky. Just hold still for a little longer, okay?” Kyra nods and presses a small kiss to the top of your head. You almost die of a heart attack right there and then. Blushing, you squeeze her hand and get back into your conversation with Sarah.

“Holy shit, Kyra needs to man the fuck up and ask her out already,” Charli groans a few meters from behind you. Mini scolds her for her language, but silently agrees with her.

“Fuck me,” You mutter under your breath as Canada scores, again. Surprisingly, Tony had given you and a bunch of other players their first caps. Unsurprisingly, Canada had been dominating the entire match. You were exhausted from having to run up and down the pitch for all ninety minutes. It seemed like you were the only player who wanted to attack, or defend, or do anything at all. You definitely weren’t blaming the other Matildas on the field with you, for most of them it was their first time in their nations jersey as well. You guys were also facing a team determined to get revenge and send off their hero in the right way, so that was not helping at all. What also wasn’t helping was that there was maybe five minutes left in the match, so both teams kind of switched off. No one really cared about this blowout anymore.

Kyra was chewing on her nails as she watched another through ball to you get overhit and land straight at a Canadian defenders’ feet. She watched as you began your recovery run, eyes tracking the ball carefully. When Quinn tried to thread a ball to Prince you timed your slide tackle perfectly and intercepted the ball. The bench stood up clapping and shouting encouragement to you. Keeping the ball close to your feet, you stood back up and began dribbling into space. The defense were dropping off, determined to keep a clean sheet. Your eyes scanned the field hoping to find anyone making a run. Unfortunately, your teammates seemed gassed. So, you started to pick up your speed with the ball. Skillfully, you dribbled around Fleming and Grosso, picking your head up once again to find Tameka making a run on the weak side of the pitch. You hit the ball, aiming to lead her into the miles of green grass in front of her. She controls the ball in stride and continues driving down the wide right channel. Continuing your run, you jog up to the top of the box hoping to put any rebounds back into the box. Tameka sends a cross into the box, it heads towards the penalty spot, multiple players jump up for it. Ultimately, Gilles gets most of it and clears it out to the top of the box. Right where you are. Kyra stands up. You watch as the ball arcs in the air and starts to drop towards you. It’s as if everything is moving in slow motion. You plant your left foot into the grass, the ball drops and drops and drops. Pulling your right foot back, you wait for it to just drop a little bit more. Now. Straightening your leg, you watch your foot connect with the ball. The ball surges forward while your boot recoils from the impact. Your eyes track the ball as it soars through the air, it slips past the outstretched foot of Buchanan, Amy Sayer jumps out of the way. The goalkeeper tries her best, but it’s useless, the net ripples as the ball buries itself into the top left corner. Screaming is all you hear, you’re frozen in your spot. Suddenly, Mary is in your arms and the rest of the team is hugging you and screaming at you.

“What a fucking legend!”

“Banger! Absoloute banger!”

“Mate, you’re actually insane.”

“First goal for the Matildas, bitches!”

Tears are welling up in your eyes as you set Mary down. Holy shit. You’ve always dreamed of scoring for the Matildas, all of a sudden that dream was a reality. Mary tugs on your hand and pulls you over to where the subs are screaming and jumping up and down. You laugh. Caitlin and Steph are the first ones to you, yelling at you that you’re a baller or something like that. After they let you go, Kyra is waiting for you. She’s got that blinding smile that you’ve always loved. She pulls you into a hug.

“I’m so, so proud of you, Y/N/N.” Her hands run gently through your hair, you sink into the hug, letting out a sigh.

“Thanks Kyra, for everything. Um, I should go though the ref looks mad.” She nods and relinquishes her hold on you. Jogging back into place, you breath deeply. Finally. You had finally done it. You were a fucking Matilda.

Present Day

The team had gathered for their annual Secret Santa party. This year, it was held at Viv and Beth’s house. All the players were crammed inside the living room, a lot of food had been consumed along with a lot of laughs being laughed. There had been a Christmas movie marathon (2 movies) where you and Kyra had found a nice spot on the couch for the two of you. There had also been a small potluck, everyone brining a small dish to share with the team. Now, it was time for the gift exchange. A few weeks ago, there had been a very formal name-drawing process. There were blindfolds and everything, you were actually kind of impressed at how serious the team took it. You had drawn Frida’s name which you didn’t really mind. You got along with her well, and you were both pretty chill so it was easy to hang out with her. Her girlfriend had helped you track down some Norwegian sweets that you know she loved, you also threw in an adorable polar bear stuffy you found at a cute gift shop in downtown, London.

Everyone was going in a circle, unwrapping their presents and guessing who their Secret Santa was. So far, there had been some really sweet gifts and some really funny ones. Such as Katie giving Leah a toy keyboard, one that was really meant for two year olds. Katie defended herself saying, “It was appropriate for Leah’s skill level.”

Soon enough, it was your turn. You searched the small tree sitting in the living room for a gift with your name on it. Finding it, you carefully picked it up and sat back in your spot between Kyra’s legs. All eyes were on you as you gently unwrapped the gift, not wanting to be rude and just tear apart the wrapping paper. A gasp escapes your lips, hand flying to your mouth in shock. Everyone asks you what it is. You take it out of its case and hold it up for the team to see. Gasps similar to yours fill the room. A diamond necklace with your first name initial as a pendant hung from your fingers. It must have cost at least £100. You look around the room desperately, looking to thank the giftgiver endlessly. Multiple people shake their heads. Finally, you look behind you, Kyra didn’t meet even try to meet your eyes. Her cheeks were burning red, her hand rubbing her neck nervously.

“Uh, do you like it?” You could hear the nerves in her voice. You were still a little shocked from the gift, so you stand up abruptly and grab her hand leading her towards the bathroom.

Slamming the door shut, you whip around to look at your fellow Aussie, “What the hell? Are you insane?” Kyra flinches slightly at your tone.

“Do you not like it? Because I can return it and get you something else,” her voice was unsure.

“Wha-? Of course I like it! I love it, I love you! But, Kyra this had to have cost a shiton, I can’t accept this as a gift.” You say forcefully, still not realizing what you had said. Kyra had heard it though.

“Wait, did you just say you love me?”

You freeze. Well, you had said that. Not on purpose, though. But, it’s not like it’s not true. Kyra tentatively reaches out and takes your hand in hers,

“Y/N?”

WIthout even thinking you crash your lips into hers. She gasps, but eventually melts into the kiss, your lips working against each others perfectly. Her hands found their way to your hips, gripping them tightly. Your hands wrapped behind her neck at first before moving into her hair. As you tug on her hair she lets out a soft moan, giving you access to her mouth. Slipping your tongue inside of her mouth, she gently pushes you against the bathroom wall. A soft gasp at the cold tile lets Kyra detach her lips from yours and begin working her way down your neck. She presses wet kiss after wet kiss onto your exposed skin. Finally finding your weak spot, you moan her name quietly. Her perfume, her mouth on your neck, everything about her was overwhelming your senses.

“Ky…Ky we have to stop, someone could hear us,” you moan out softly as she places more kisses on your collarbone.

“Mmm, maybe. Or we could just keep going?” She smirks playfully at you. Fuck, her smirk did things to you that you weren’t exactly proud of. Rolling your eyes, you pushed her off of you.

“They’re probably waiting for us to continue the Secret Santa. We shouldn’t keep them.”

Kyra groans and drops her head onto your chest. You laugh, and run your fingers through her hair soothingly.

“Umm, I really like you, you know?” Her voice is muffled against you, but you heard her loud and clear.

“Oh really? I had no idea,” you say sarcastically. She slaps your chest in response.

“Shut up, asshole.” Another laugh rumbles through your chest.

“Sorry, sorry. I really like you too, Kyra.” She smiles lazily and leans in for another kiss.

“Y’know, everytime I saw you I was, like, gay-panicking,” she confesses with a embarrassed smile.

“Awww, were you gay-panicking? That’s adorable.”

“Asshole.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross #arsenal wfc x reader #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #auswnt #auswnt x reader #matildas #matildas x reader

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miedvma · 6 months

Text

MEDDLE ABOUT

l. williamson x awfc!r

summary: jealous leah but she’s just a softie really

sharing hotel rooms with daan has always meant being up for anything she would come up with at half-past eleven at night, including painting her nails orange— and, of course, she’d have to paint yours too.

“yeah, for the netherlands!” danielle immediately reasons, her choice of colour still causing a disappointed frown on your face. “cause, you know, oranje leeuwinnen—”

you scoff. “i know, daan! it’s just.. orange is, uh, too much, no? plus, we’re like mid-season now— we should paint it red, for arsenal.”

danielle’s speech is followed by her expressing nothing but displeasure towards your suggestion, arguing that she’s constantly repressed by both her girlfriend beth and your girlfriend leah’s patriotism, insisting that you should stand by your roomie and best friend, getting your nails painted orange to rebel against the proud englishwomen’s system.

there is very little to discuss: dedonk can be particularly persuasive when she wants to win an argument, and so you find yourself with no other option than to settle your hands over her crossed legs and hope that neon bright orange suits you.

—

“hi love” leah peeps as she places a lovingly peck on the side of your neck, sitting down next to you for breakfast.

despite your strict no pda at work rule, the defender can’t really bring herself to be any less affectionate towards the girl she loves the most— and you eventually gave in on that once mutual agreement.

“hi love” you mock her tone, earning a roll of eyes and a shoulder nudge. “hi babe.” you quickly correct yourself, a satisfied smile taking place on your girlfriend’s lips.

as the defender devours her characteristic ham sandwich, her curious sparkly eyes watch closely as you sink a silver spoon on your berries bowl— most noticeably, your hands; more accurately, the weird coloration your fingernails are washed in.

“did you get your nails done?” asks a pouty leah, instantly shoving you out of the conversation you’ve gotten in.

you leave viv and her remarks about the game you’re about to attend on hold and turn your girlfriend, “mmh, do you like them?”

she doesn’t seem to like it. in fact, leah hates it when you get your nails done by yourself and don’t do hers as well— but as this had never happened before, you don’t really have any way of knowing it.

“you got them done without me.” she pouts again, her voice bathing in gloom. “oh, i’m so sorry babes, i’ll get yours done soon as we get home, yeah?” you use your nose to caress her cheek, then her own nose, and then manage to place a millisecond long kiss to her lips— causing the blonde to run out of words, cheeks blushing at the sudden interaction.

nonetheless the flushed older girl’s emotions, it doesn’t take too long before she’s back at cherishing her thoughts on the game ahead of you, herself quite really excited to attend to her favourite london derby.

as the morning progresses and you finally step into the pitch, leah’s excitement seems to fade away. which is a little strange, since you are well aware that beating spurs is still one of her greatest pleasures— so it does turn out weird for her to start acting a bit off out of nowhere, right?

well, not exactly. unbeknownst to you, leah’s got a pretty good reason to keep her distance from you (or at least that’s what she tells herself)—

“leah come on, you’re warming up with me” beth chimed in, causing the other blonde to furrow her eyebrows. “thought you’d team up with daan?”

“yeah no she’s taking the piss cause i said her nails look weird” beth’s eyes rolled as the defender worked the situation out on her head.

unable to settle for the other girls’ silly argument, leah’s gaze perked around the pitch just until she could evidence danielle’s neon orange nail polish.

it hit her harder. you getting your nails done without her? bad. you getting your nails done without her, with daan instead? worse. way worse.

—

“i literally scored a winner and you’re not even going to gimme a kiss?” you pout to your girlfriend, the both of you about to head home in her still parked car.

leah isn’t one to play differently or give any less of herself to win, but as soon as the whistle blew, there was no way of hiding it: the green monster inside her hadn’t really gone away.

“there’s um.. people here,” your girlfriend replies, nonchalant. indeed, there are people around the parking lot— teammates and staffers, all of them knowing about your relationship. besides, it’s not like she had ever cared about being seen anyway.

“right.” you mock her tone, leah giving you a stern stare until she realizes she had done the exact same thing before.

leah drives surprisingly slow, contradicting her clenched jaw and bitten lips. her lack of physical and verbal interaction, particularly in such moments, is highly unusual— especially considering arsenal’s victory, largely because of you. it’s easy for you to sense her irritation, and that is why you don’t exchange any more words the whole way home.

as soon as your girlfriend pulls up to your house you swiftly jump out of the car, hastening your steps to leave the girl alone, hoping some time apart might heal whatever conflict she’s found herself in.

it doesn’t. long after you’ve completed your extended skincare routine (usually a joint activity but not a good idea at the minute) and changed into comfortable clothes (opting not to wear leah’s, just in case), the house remains terribly silent.

your bed is empty when you leave the ensuite bathroom. the corridors are silent, and a peek into the guest bedroom reveals it to be just as empty. stepping into the dining room, you finally spot leah’s still-intact ponytail.

her head hangs down, probably slouched on the sofa; the tv is off, hinting that she’s mindlessly scrolling on her phone. you allow yourself to swallow your pride and prepare sandwiches for both of you before walking towards her.

as you hand her a plate, a mumbled “thank you” is all you get— her eyes still avoid meeting yours, or even your hand.

your girlfriend lets out a sigh before picking up the telly remote and switching on some rubbish reality show in an attempt to dispel the palpable silence— prudent, but ultimately ineffective.

“is something wrong?” you ask, your voice soft as always. leah usually finds your natural tone charming, but this evening even that doesn’t seem to be enough for her to open up about her troubled emotions.

she replies with a simple “nah,” but the distance between you speaks volumes to the contrary: even though the sofa can easily accommodate up to five people, your girlfriend always ensures there’s not a single atom between the two of you.

frustrated by the girl’s nonchalance, you decide to test how far her grumpiness can go. you remove both your plates and place them on the coffee table, hoping she’d take the hint— but she doesn’t. not at all.

the blonde remains in her original position, spread out on the sofa, elbow on the armrest, supporting her head against her fist, eyes glued to the screen, oblivious to your approach.

it is normally up to her to initiate closeness, drawing you in or melding you both together— so the fact that you’re moving closer on your own should prompt her to react, but nothing really happens, so you audibly huff as you stand up to leave the room in nothing but defeat.

“you’re sleeping on that sofa tonight.”

her head shoots up to look at you in disbelief. “no i’m not!”

“oh yes, you are.”

the blonde’s eyes roll back almost instinctively, and you shoot her a sharp look. “hey, no fair! you get other girl’s nails done, and i’m the one who’s supposed to sleep on the sofa?” her voice sounds genuine, yet tinged with frustration— and here she is, leah, in her purest and most absolute form, feeling nothing but betrayed by not having her nails done by her girlfriend.

“oh my god lee, is that why you’re all grumpy?” leah’s eyes dart around the walls, as if pretending you hadn’t just guessed it right. “danielle is my friend, our friend, you know that..” you chuckle, settling down next to her again.

“i know but— it’s our thing! and i mean, you’re pretty and all but that orange is just not it.” the defender glances at you with that one nonchalant expression that always reveals her disappointment, and you can only look back in amusement. how could you ever tire of how adorable she sounds when she’s jealous?

“just so you know, i’m really offended by you saying i don’t suit orange. and i do forgive you for being an asshole today.”

leah folds her arms, her look at you not good— but you had guessed earlier that calling her an asshole might irk her more (she kind of deserves it anyway). “you should be the one apologizing for breaking our rules!” the blonde hisses, though she couldn’t seem more harmless.

either way, you’re never willing to argue with your loving girlfriend. especially when you’re seeking a reward for your hard work after a tough game.

“okay, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry i let danielle do my nails, and i’m sorry i did hers. can i get a kiss now?”

a wide smile brightens the older girl’s face as her hand reaches for your hip, guiding you to lie down on the sofa with her on top of you. as she leans in and you blindly reach for her shoulders, a breathy laugh tickles your face, causing your eyes to widen.

“soon as you take that ugly-ass colour off your pretty nails, babe,” the blonde suggests, thinking she’s hilarious as she pulls herself off the mess she’s already made of you.

you scowl and toss a pillow her way, but she simply shrugs it off, fixed on watching the trashiest show imaginable.

realizing you won’t get any favours from her unless you get rid of the questionable colour on your nails, you rise from the sofa and set off to find some nail polish remover. “want me to bring the red one so i can do yours?”

you spot a smirk forming on the lips of the girl lazily lounging on the sofa. “no need love, gonna save my hands for other kinds of activities now.”

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #awfc #engwnt

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sstan-hoe · 1 month

Text

𝑼𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — (kinda) modern!aemond targaryen × fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — well let's just say I was in a mood and would very much like to try something new...

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — squirting, smut obviously, oral (f receiving), p in v, dirty talk

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — am I back? maybe...I have finals and I feel so stressed, but I hope I can be back in May!

„Aemond! Stop, oh god!“ Aemond draws hard circles over your clit, a shit eating grin painting his face. He had tried for the past two months to get you to squirt and right now he was the closest he’d ever been.

You had nothing against it, even being your idea but right now a weird feeling bubbled in your stomach which you’d never felt before.

Aemond said it had to be like this, you would get a feelings as if a knot was being tied inside you. The knot would get tighter with every passing second, until it finally exploded.

You couldn't pin point the feeling, was it good, was it bad?

Good, amazing, like a relief. As Aemond continued his work he pushed the right button and answered your worries.

Your husband grinned at you as you covered his face with your juice. “You fucking bastard,” you breathed out as you fell back into the pillows. “Bastard? I just gave you one of the best orgasms of your life,” Aemond told you proudly, his ego growing.

When you first brought up the idea squirting, you would have never been able to imagine how wonderful it would make feel.

Still he was a little shit who cheated. “You ready for another?” He asked wiggling his eyebrows with a seductive smirk. “Sorry, but I don’t have to pee again which means you can’t cheat, and we know how the last few times went…,” you trailed off as your eyes moved to the sheets.

Aemond was offended and suddenly grabbed you by your ankles to pull you down further on the bed. A surprised gasp fell from your lips at his actions.

He grasps your hips and shoves himself deep inside, not giving you any chance to adjust to his size — like he did so often. Aemond pulls back and thrusts in enough to move you several inches up the sheets.

The feeling you have felt not too long ago was building up again like a thread that was threatening to be cut with a knife. A snap, a cut, the right angle to the right spot was all it took for your waters to break once more.

Your man couldn’t be any happier as he grinned from ear to ear. Proud of himself that he made you cum and squirt without ‘cheating’.

“Call me a cheater once more, I dare you,” he whispered as his thrusts slowed down. “And get that outcome again?” You cocked a brow at him, receiving a chuckle from him.

“You know I haven’t cum yet…,” he lowly trailed of.

Your eyes widened in shock, “I’m not gonna make you squirt,” you said with raised hands. Aemons shook his head in response, “no my love, that’s not what I meant.”

#aemond targaryen one shot #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x you #modern!aemond oneshot #house targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen au #my one eyed prince 💫🐲

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 9 months

Text

More headcanons of the Nimona trio being domestic dorks

Whenever the trio gets sick of each other they’ll ask the person in the trio they’re not pissed at to handle them

It always goes something like this “Ambrosius come get your kid they won’t leave me alone-“ “No Nemesis come get your husband he’s being a stick in the mud”

Or “Bal go get your son from prison he got arrested again” “Oh so he’s my son today?” “Yes when he’s stupid enough to get caught he’s your son”

If you're wondering why Nimona doesn't just escape its cause they find it hilarious when Bal has to come to bail them out at random points in the day

There are also times when they’re proud or happy and they’ll say things like “I’m gonna go get my daughter ice cream” “Since when is she just your daughter?” “Since right now when she helped me fix my prosthetic”

“Hey boss where’s my Nemesis I heard he got in a fight today” “I thought he was my Nemesis” “Not when he puts three guys in the hospital he’s not”

Bal is one of those people who sees something and says “Why would I buy that when I can just make it” AND HE DOES

Nimona has a bad habit of fucking up speakers so Bal just set up a sound system throughout the house

If the trio weren’t such antisocial losers with three friends combined their parties would be amazing

He made Ambrosius a skincare cabinet just so he could put actual medicine in the medicine cabinet

When Nimona moved in he asked them what their ideal room would look like

She gave him a rough draft and he did all of it

They spend a week tearing that room apart so they could soundproof it so she could rock out without disturbing the boys

She has sick ass LED lights and she’ll change the colors depending on her mood

Ambrosius and Bal helped her paint the walls the most obnoxious shade of neon pink And then they didn’t complain when she spray painted over said walls

It’s worth it to see her visibly relax when she enters her room

This man has gutted and put back together and rearranged their little house so many times it’s unrecognizable

I also feel like everyone in the trio is a crafty bitch

They all have a million little hobbies that have produced even more trinkets that fill up their whole house

Their house is this weird combination of comfy yet chaotic and it's a minimalists nightmare

Cleaning is also a nightmare but they wouldn't change it for anything

Back when they were in the institute Ambrosius was a terrible cook -♾️/10 his cooking would put people in the hospital

After the knighting ceremony was the first time he was living by himself and didn’t have access to free food so he taught himself how to cook

Honestly most people would think he would give up

I mean there are only so many times you set water on fire before you throw in the towel

But he's a stubborn brat and cooking took his mind off of everything so he stuck with it

One day Bal came home to the smell of cooking and he assumed it was Nimona

He swears to this day he had a heart attack when he saw Ambrosius in front of the stove and Nimona comfortably sitting at the dinner table not helping at all

He promptly dragged Nimona out of there like a bomb just went off and warned him not to touch Ambrosius’ food

He told Bal “The more you call it a biohazard the more I want to eat it”

So Bal used him like a test dummy

When Nimona finally did try it they turned to Bal and complained that he lied

Bal thought he was being pranked until he was forced by Nimona to try the food

And it was good

More than good I was fucking amazing

He asked Ambrosius quite frankly “Who are you and what have you done with my husband”

Ambrosius just rolled his eyes and told him to eat the food

Bal never gave up on finding out how and slowly but surely he started asking like a normal person

And Ambrosius never answered like a normal person

His answers would range from “A chef never reveals his secrets” (“that’s a magician love” “just zip it and eat your food”) to “I’m never telling you so suffer and finish this meal I lovingly cooked” (“is it still considered love if you knew I was gonna suffer?” “Yes” “…. Makes sense”)

#nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #I just know the trio are crafty bitches #Bal dabbles in a little bit of everything #Nimona likes to whittle #Ambrosius likes to crochet #He's made everyone he loves at least one stuffed animal

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roses-r-rosie3 · 7 months

Text

Wallflower

Jason Todd x M!Reader

Warnings: sort of angst, but mostly fluff ig, mentions of a breakup, reader not taking care of themselves

Summary: After a tough breakup, the reader’s friends force him to go to a concert to make him feel a little better. But little would the reader know, he would meet the love of his life at that concert

Quote: “Have you ever had someone paint you before”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your now ex boyfriend broke up with you, for reasons you don’t know. But one thing both you and your friends knew, was that you were devastated. You wouldn’t leave your room for weeks and you refused to talk to anyone. You just laid in bed, thinking about what you did wrong, why would he breakup with you? Why? Why would this happen to you? You were lying in bed once again when you heard a knock on your door.

“Y/n? I’m worried for you, you haven’t left your room in god knows how long, I know you loved him, but you need to come out of there” your roommate said.

“Go away” you mumbled.

“Y/n, please, open the door” your roommate spoke softly.

You knew your roommate would bother you all day if you didn’t open the door, so you grumbled something before opening the door. When you did though, your roommate was there with her boyfriend, but they were dressed to go out.

“Ok y/n, we got tickets for a local band, including you, and you’re coming with us, I can’t stand to see you like this, so go get ready” your roommate said.

God you hated your roommate for this, she knew that if she bought a ticket for you, you would be forced to go, because you would’ve felt bad for making her spend her money on you, even if the tickets cost a few cents. So you finally took a shower after weeks of just staying in your room.

After you were done showering, you changed and walked out to your roommate and her boyfriend, who both looked like proud parents.

“Don’t you look handsome? Who knows you might meet someone new at the venue” your roommate winked.

When you guys finally arrived, you noticed that the venue was very small and the crowd was very small, but hey, what would you expect from a local band? You were still moody though, I mean you were being a third wheel just a few weeks after you and your ex broke up.

“Come on y/n! Turn your frown upside down and enjoy yourself!” Your roommate’s boyfriend smiled.

You faked a smile before your roommate handed you a beer and she started to talk to her boyfriend about the venue and the band. The band, in your opinion, wasn’t bad, but they weren’t anything special. They both tried to drag you into conversation, but you didn’t want to talk, you still wanted to sulk about your ex boyfriend, you missed him.

You quickly excused yourself to the restroom to sulk, but on your way there, a guy suddenly turned and spilled his beer over your shirt.

“Oh my god i’m so sorry I didn’t see you there” the guy apologized profusely as he tried wiping your shirt with a tissue he pulled from his pockets.

“It’s fine, I didn’t really like the shirt anyway, my ex boyfriend got it from me” you said, earning you a little chuckle from the other guy.

When you made eye contact with the guy, his eyes were like the warmest melty chocolate brown and his heavenly gaze made your cheeks feel hot. He was attractive in a way that you couldn’t describe, he was attractive in a way that was completely different to how you found your ex boyfriend attractive.

“My name’s Jason by the way” the guy smiled.

“Y/n” you smiled back.

“So what brings you here?” You asked.

“My brother’s dragged me along, but if I’m being honest the band isn’t exactly my style” Jason laughed.

“What about you?” He asked.

“My roommate and her boyfriend dragged me along” you said.

You two started to talk about life, and what your hobbies were, he said he liked reading and cooking, while you said you liked to paint a little, to which he said..

“Have you ever had someone paint you before” As he winked.

You could feel yourself burning, and it didn’t help that your roommate and her boyfriend mimicking bedroom activities from the other side of the venue.

“I think my siblings are waiting for me, but do you wanna take my number before I have to go?” Jason smirked.

You froze for a second before you realized what he said.

“Oh, yeah! Of course!” You stuttered.

“I can’t wait to started texting you” Jason winked before strutting back to his brother’s who were looking at you with mischievous looks on their faces.

When you got back to your roommate and her boyfriend, still in a love-drunk daze state.

“Aren’t you glad that you listened to us” your roommate smugly asked.

“Shut up” you mumbled.

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stevesworld96 · 8 months

Text

look at me now (part one)

--- steve harrington x fem!reader

childhood friends to strangers to lovers. this is a more realistic look at developing a relationship with steve, set in canon while you know nothing about the monsters, or the nightmares, or all of his scars.

a fic about knowing steve before, during, and after the events of the upside down. including all the ways your friendship with him grows, wilts, then grows again - to blossom into something he probably doesn’t deserve.

tags: fem reader, no use of y/n, childhood friends, typical king steve meanness, yes there is an allusion to steve being icarus, kissing, fighting and making up, cliches, a lot of emotions, depression and suffering etc, reader has an aunt, mentions of death and injuries, codependent steve and robin, steve is so so so so so so so sad. hawkins doesn't get destroyed after the vecna fight - everything else follows canon

please read both parts, i worked so hard on this fic and i'm really proud of it :)

part two!!!

word count: 14878

You knew Steve Harrington better than you knew anybody. At least, you liked to think so.

You were five when you moved to Hawkins into the house right next door to Steve’s, and as things go when you’re a kid, that automatically made you best friends. At that age you didn’t have to try to be friends with somebody - as long as they lived nearby and had a bike, that sealed the deal.

He was only knee high to his mother, hiding behind her legs when she brought him over to introduce themselves. “We’re the Harrington's,” she said, then with a tight laugh, “minus one - my husband. This is our son. Steve - say hi, Stevie.”

He didn’t. Your mothers started a polite conversation and your eyes darted between the tall woman and her son. She was dressed like she had somewhere important to be, with red lipstick painted on her lips and pearls hung around her neck. She was pretty.

Her son didn’t stand with the same pride she had - he was peeking at you, tugging the hem of his mother’s dress and looking down at his feet. You could hardly get a good look at him, and he didn’t even wave back at you. His haircut was prim and proper; the button up shirt he wore was swallowing him.

They came inside for lemonade, and you led Steve into your living room, and by the end of the hour you had instantly become friends, bonding over your toy car collection that Steve loved.

You were kids - of course things were so easy.

To see him, all you had to do was walk over to his front door and knock, and you could spend as much time together as you wanted. Or just wait until his parents needed a babysitter - after they learned how much you and Steve loved spending time together, they started to drop him off at your house and you’d have sleepovers for days.

It was when Mr. Harrington had gotten a big promotion that they’d leave Steve with your family nearly once a week.

“I’m sorry, Stevie, I know me and Dad haven’t been home much lately. But next month isn’t as busy for us,” his mom would tell him.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he’d reply. “Don’t worry, I like staying here, so I’m alright.”

At your age you didn’t see the irony in a seven year old telling his mother that things were okay - shouldn’t it be the other way around? - but those apologies from his mother wouldn’t last very long. And the promises she always made were never kept. Soon enough, she stopped making them altogether.

Sometimes he’d just show up at your door, and your parents didn’t have to ask questions because they already knew more than you did, and you didn’t understand that he was more comfortable in your bedroom than in his own.

The routine of your friendship felt like the foundation of your life. Everything you did was with Steve by your side, like you were tied together with an invisible string that couldn’t be broken. Snacks after school were a must; movie nights every other weekend were your safe haven. The last day of school every year you camped out in his backyard under the stars and then woke up early for a big breakfast and a day spent at the arcade. Even as you got older, those things stayed the same.

You had busier schedules to work around in high school but you still made it work. After-school lunch turned into midnight snacks, and you moved from the arcade to the lake, but you were still intertwined with child-like joy and ease.

Steve’s other friends were another story. Tommy H was a thorn in your side that you couldn’t pick out, but Steve didn’t get why you hated him so much. At first, you didn’t get it either - you just did.

Until one day early in your junior year, Tommy H gave you a good enough reason for your disposition.

Like always, Steve was waiting for you outside of your last class of the day, and you were just about to turn the corner when you heard Tommy’s loud, boisterous, annoying voice.

“Steve, my boy, what’cha standing around here for?”

Steve laughed, even though Tommy had said nothing funny.

“Waiting on your favorite girl so I can get outta here - what’s up, dude?”

“Come on,” Tommy said, dragging the words out. “We got shit to do, ditch her and let’s get a roll on, if you catch my drift.”

You could see his stupid face in your head as he spoke - you just wanted him to go away so you could leave. But you’d wait there forever if it meant you didn’t have to have a conversation with him.

You were hardly paying any mind to their words.

“Can’t, dude, I’m her ride home. Tomorrow though, for sure.”

“She’s holding you back, man.”

But that caught your attention. They were both laughing even though, again, no one had said anything funny.

“Y’think so?”

“She even put out?”

Your eyes rolled so far back to your head they could’ve gotten stuck.

“It’s not like that with her.”

“Oh, that’s not what Kimmy thinks.”

“What? What do you mean - did she say something?”

You knew Kimmy to be the new flavor of the week, Steve’s new eye candy. It’d be someone new in a matter of days - and this was one brand new trait of his you were struggling to overlook.

“Just saying, most of the chicks think you’re taken by Miss Bitch -”

You call Tommy H a dickhead to his face one time and he gives you a nickname that sticks for three years.

“- and that’s why you’re not getting any action, dude. Gotta shake off the fleas, man.”

And then Steve laughed. Loud.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to do. You hoped he would defend you even a little bit, but he didn’t. He just laughed, and said, “I’ll think about it, man,” as if he was in on this joke, and then Tommy left.

And you didn’t know how you felt.

It’s not like Steve said it. But he had no problem listening to Tommy H talk about you that way. He thought it was funny.

Or, he was just saving face - did that make a difference?

You knew Tommy’s words were complete bullshit, and you didn’t care about him enough to let it affect you. Maybe Steve felt the same - maybe he just went along with it because it was easier.

You hoped so, because that’s what you chose to do. You brushed it off and walked out of the room and acted as if nothing happened.

“Hey - about time.”

You didn’t reply; he continued talking as you walked together.

“You hungry?”

“Thought you were coming over,” you said. “Told you I wanted to build a blanket fort. Remember?”

He huffed out a scoff, “A blanket fort? Are you six?” The glare you gave him made him reel his judgment back in. “Fine. Let’s go.”

…

As soon as basketball season was over and you had your weekends back to yourself, you were ready to get through your watch list of movies as quickly as possible. You’d never tell Steve that cheering for him at his games was your least favorite part of your friendship with him - you would always keep that selfishness to yourself.

And if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own mind, lost in planning your movie night, you may have been able to see your next conversation with Steve coming.

“There she is, been lookin’ all over for you.”

A heavy arm slung around your shoulders as you walked down the school hall. You didn’t have to question who it was.

“What do you want, Steve?”

“Just want to see my best friend in the whole world, is there something wrong with that?”

You rolled your eyes. Obviously he’s up to something.

“I’m going to choose to ignore you,” you said, shaking off his arm and stopping at your locker. His back fell into the metal next to you.

“What’s up?” he asked, and he was trying too hard to be inconspicuous, but you ignored it.

“Nothing. Oh, I think I finally have a cookie recipe we’ll like. Mrs. Jenkins gave it to me but she made me swear I wouldn’t share her secrets. Gonna pick up the stuff after school - have you picked your movie yet?”

Then his eyes widened, a bit too much to look genuine. “Oh, shit, is that tonight?”

“It’s Friday, isn’t it?”

“I completely forgot about that, shit. I made other plans without thinking.”

“Well, cancel them,” you said with a straight face.

“Well… what if you join in on my plans instead?”

You closed your locker and didn’t even consider entertaining Steve’s idea. “My mom’s already planning to make dinner for you. Are you ready to face her wrath?”

“Well - no,” he said. “It’s just - y’know, I was supposed to see Nancy tonight, and…”

“Oh, I get it, you wanna cancel so you can get laid. Is that it?”

“No, Christ - I’ll be there, alright? But next time, I’m getting my way.”

You laughed at him, and the bell rang and ended your conversation.

You didn’t think the night would go any differently than your normal hangouts. Maybe if you were expecting it, the disappointment wouldn’t have stung so bad.

He called you early.

“Hello?”

“Hey -”

“Hey, have you picked up the movies yet? I forgot to get popcorn, so…”

“No, I haven’t. Listen, um…” There was static on the line for a moment before he continued. “Sorry, but - can we - are you sure we can’t reschedule? Like, tomorrow night?”

You groaned, you were annoyed. But even when he argued with you, Steve never ditched your valued traditions - he may act bothered sometimes, but he would always come around. Even if he did gripe about it being childish the entire time.

That’s what you thought this would be.

“No, Steve, I have book club and tutoring and dinner with my aunt tomorrow. You know this.”

“Right. I guess I forgot about that. Okay, well…”

“...Well?”

Once again, he was quiet, and you weren’t sure if he was hesitating because he didn’t know what to say, or because he was nervous.

“Well - I think it’d be really fun if we hung out at my place tonight!”

“I guess I can bring all the ingredients for the cookies over. You do have a nicer oven…” you said.

“No, like, you can come over with everyone else I invited and we could -”

“I thought you canceled that?”

“I was going to, but… Tommy wouldn’t take no for an answer! And we already got the booze, and Nance finally said yes and - and I’d be really happy if you were here too!”

“...Okay.”

“Okay…?”

You thought for a moment, then decided to ask him the question you were asking yourself.

“Would you be happy if I was there, or would you be happy if I’m not mad at you for canceling?”

“Uh - either one.”

“Right.”

That answer was good enough for you, even though it wasn’t the one you wanted. You weren’t getting anything you wanted that night, and you weren’t going to fight for it with someone who already had their mind made up.

“Then have fun,” you said.

“Really? We can cancel?”

The excitement in his voice caused an angry laugh. “Yeah. Bye.” And you hung up.

And you made your cookies, and you watched the movies you already had on tape, and you didn’t miss the popcorn but you wished you had Steve’s lap to put your feet on - and it was fine.

You were sure he was having fun. And maybe he didn’t care at all about your canceled plans - because he was too busy with people who didn’t like you, doing something more exciting than what the two of you did as kids.

It was selfish to be angry. Maybe it was wrong. But you let it boil over anyway.

…

You didn’t talk to him for a week after that. Because you didn’t want to, and you wanted to teach him a lesson, and you hoped it would make him sorry.

Maybe you were being immature, but at this point, you were committed.

You were afraid that you were setting the wrong example - that, maybe, he thought you were angry about him making his own plans, when the problem was how he’d canceled yours so last minute. Or perhaps it was both. But now you had dragged it out too long and you were stuck giving Steve the cold shoulder until he finally caved in and apologized.

That’s all you wanted, really: an apology. And a bribe or two, just to get the most out of this argument. That’s how things usually went: you give him the silent treatment and he shows up at your door with your favorite snacks and a new book, and things would go back to normal.

But not this time.

You’d managed to bike to school without being caught by Steve all week, but you’d underestimated him waiting for you at the bike racks at the end of the day on Thursday.

He stood with his arms crossed and his brows drawn together. The moment you saw him you stopped in your tracks, like if you stayed still he wouldn’t see you, but his gaze was locked on. It didn’t look kind.

So you prepared yourself for this fight.

“What are you doing?” he asked, but his tone said something different - it said, I’m sick of your shit.

“What are you doing?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Just wondering how long you’re going to keep dragging this out.”

You kept darting around his words and moved to get your bike as if he’d let you leave so easily. “I’m not dragging anything out. Don’t know what you mean.”

His arms flung out to his sides as his voice raised, “You’re acting like a fucking kid!”

And your volume matched his, “You hurt my feelings!”

“Well - grow up!”

The short silence that followed felt heavy, but he didn’t let it sit for long.

“I mean - come on - I ditch you one time and all of a sudden we’re not friends anymore? Really?”

“A sorry would be nice, Steve.”

“I’ve said sorry.” Both of you knew that he hadn’t, but it didn’t matter now. “But sorry isn’t enough, is it? You’re just mad that I have new friends. Because I don’t want to just - sit around and fucking - watch movies in your living room like we’re kids -”

“Like we’re kids,” you said, laughing. “Yeah - right, because that’s really what this is about, isn’t it, Steve?”

He looked confused, and you didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“Because I’m holding you back. Right? Tommy H said it so it must be true. I’m a bitch and I’m keeping you down and you need to shake me off if you ever want to get any action - that’s what it is. Just say it, Steve.”

“Where is this coming from?” He ran a hand through his hair and his voice sounded desperate, but you weren’t sure what for. Maybe to salvage the remnants of a wounded friendship, to turn this conversation around. But your anger wouldn’t let him.

“You know where it’s coming from. I heard it, Steve, and you - you agreed with him! I’m your best friend but you can’t even defend me to your shitty fucking friends - so just say it! You’re the one who doesn’t want me around -”

“That’s not what happened -”

You were so angry, and he was lying, and Steve never lied to you, and he’d filled you with so much venom that you couldn’t help spitting it out as you stepped closer to him. “It is. And you’re turning it on me when you’re the shitty friend. Stop lying to me and just say it.”

“Yeah, maybe that is what it is - and I was just too fucking stupid to see it before now. That you’re so fucking clingy I can’t even have one night with a girl without you getting jealous. He was right. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yeah, it was,” and you pulled your bike free and your foot hit the kickstand so hard that it hurt, and you told yourself the pain was the reason tears were flooding your eyes.

“Maybe I’m better off without you - have you ever thought about that? Is that your fucking problem?”

“Whatever! I don’t care anymore! You never have to watch another fucking movie with me again, alright? We won’t go to the arcade or build stupid fucking blanket forts or any of the other childish shit you hate so much!”

“Good - fucking - good!”

“And I hope you have fun playing King, and I hope when all your friends turn on you and Nancy dumps your ass - because you’re an asshole - that I’m the last person you run to for help, and I hope your dad is real fucking proud of you, because you’re turning out to be just fucking like him.”

It all fell out like you were pushing rocks off of a cliff - fast and angry and hard. You knew what those words would do to him. You knew you were hurting his feelings more than he had ever hurt yours - that you were putting the knife in too deep to pull out. You knew and you said it anyway, because you were mad and he was being a dick and lashing out felt good. Especially when you could hop on your bike and ride away from him, fast enough to avoid watching the blood pooling at his feet.

The worst part is that you were being honest.

Steve stood there alone and didn’t even turn to watch you ride away. He felt like hitting something, or screaming until his lungs were empty and tired.

And he didn’t even have time for any of this. He was finally making decisions for himself, for once, and who were you to get mad at him for that? He was popular, he had a girlfriend who was actually into him, his parents had finally gotten off his back. Things were going fantastic for him and he wasn’t going to let you mess it up because you were… jealous, or selfish, or whatever it was - Steve didn’t care.

He wasn’t going to lose sleep over you refusing to grow up and give him space. He was on top of the world, and you were trying to tear him down.

He didn’t need you, anyway.

…

Months passed.

And, like you had put a hex on him, all of your words came true - and then some. It didn’t take very long for things to crumble around him, and Steve almost thought it was funny how quickly his wings had melted to send him hurling into the ground.

No matter how hard he tried patching the holes, everyone knows you can’t fly with wings made of wax.

The fall hurt. But it was what came after that brought the real pain - a stinging, striking ache that was impossible to ignore. It felt like he was the last person on earth and he deserved it; like he shouldn’t be allowed to be around other people because he was no good.

And every time he tried putting the pieces back together, things only got more broken - all starting at Jonathan Byers’ front door.

What could get worse than fighting a monster from an alternate dimension?

Or fucking things up with your girlfriend beyond repair?

Or fighting those monsters again?

He learned quickly to stop asking stupid questions like those.

And he learned that he couldn’t just close his eyes and wish it away. He couldn’t run when things got scary; he couldn’t lash out when someone was honest with him; he couldn’t sneak out of his window and into yours when the yelling got too loud. He was forced to face everything he ever hid from, cursed to have regrets and keep them.

At least he wasn’t completely alone - the company of nerdy kid genius Dustin Henderson brought most of these lessons on. And in a normal situation Steve wouldn’t recommend learning anything from a kid in junior high, but he was living anything but a normal life. He’d take friends wherever he could get them, especially during senior year.

Maybe he wanted to set a good example for the kids that suddenly came into his life. Maybe he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t his father - that he could do good things without getting something out of it. Or maybe, most likely, he just did it.

He wanted to feel like a superhero, wanted to look in the mirror and feel proud of what stared back at him. But he didn’t, because he wasn’t. He wasn’t brave or heroic or gallant - he was no Clark Kent. And everything he did was because he had to. Because who else would?

Sometimes he felt like only someone as careless as him would fight a man-eating creature with nothing but a baseball bat - because out of everyone he knew, he had the least to lose. Why bother making safe decisions when most days he didn’t even want to get out of bed? What was he risking when he’d already bet it all and lost?

And who would be proud of that?

But there were moments, in the time between the fall and the fight, that he could almost see it. Like a flicker of light passing by he’d see Max smiling at him, hear Dustin’s excited laughter, feel a heavy high five from Lucas and he’d think - oh. Right there, standing in front of him, were the people he had to lose. The ones he was trying to win for.

And then he’d lay in bed at night and get stuck in another sleepless round of self loathing; hatred fueled by every cruel word he’d spit and all the selfish acts he’d taken, and fuck, he was spinning and suffocating and screaming, and maybe he deserved this.

It didn’t matter that he knew how to swing a fucking bat good enough to win more time for the ones he loved, because he wouldn’t love them right, anyway. And he’d turned the best person he’d ever known into nothing more than a crumpled piece of paper on his floor - something to be tossed aside and forgotten. And even if he tried smoothing it out, those creases would always be there.

Sometimes he stared out his window and watched yours. Waited for your light to turn off so he could look away and stop wondering what you were doing and how your life was without him in it.

All he wanted was to see you again. He’d beg for that movie night he ditched on junior year. He wanted to grab you by your shoulders and show you that he’s better now, he’s changed, those last words you told him weren’t applicable anymore and everything can just go back to how it was.

But nothing was ever that easy, was it?

He was glad when graduation finally came around, until he was forced into a sailor’s uniform with an ice cream scoop on his belt like a gun in a holster.

It was one way to spend the summer. It got him out of the house he hated staying in, and put a little money in his pocket, so slinging ice cream at Scoop’s Ahoy was good enough for him.

It distracted him from the vague nightmares he kept having and the fact that he got into a total of zero universities, and the free ice cream counted as dinner on his bad days. And he was fine with his obnoxious co-worker and annoying customers.

He was just fine.

But it was Hawkins. Nothing could stay fine there - not after a little girl with super powers opened a portal to an alternate fucking dimension and turned the town into a magnet for every fucked up thing imaginable.

Steve thought it was over, and then Dustin had him and Robin translating the Russian words he heard over his radio, and they were all pulled back in.

He wasn’t expecting to fall into the Russian lair under Starcourt Mall, to trauma bond with Robin - of all people - or to get any closer to dying than he already had, but he stopped betting on his expectations a long time ago.

By the time he saw the night sky again, he couldn’t remember how many punches he’d been thrown.

His head throbbed to the beat of his heart. It felt like if he tapped his temple, his eye would pop right out. His work uniform was ruined, stained with blood and spit, but the smoke billowing from Starcourt ensured that he wouldn't be needing it anymore.

The events of the night felt like they were years away. All he remembered was running, screaming, crying; he remembered the fist coming toward his face but not the impact. He woke up to pain, and then it was gone - more running and bleeding and fighting and then, it was over.

Robin sat next to him, shivering, on the back of an ambulance. The lights from the siren were blinding, the noise around him was punching his ear drums.

“Are we alive?” Robin asked. Her voice was totally shot.

“Think so.”

“I want to lay down so bad.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Do you have someone to call?”

She sighed deep. “Not really.” She let it be quiet for only a second, then said, “I don’t really want to go home. To be honest.”

“You wanna spend the night here?”

“If I don’t have to be alone, then, yeah.”

He sighed, too, then patted her knee.

He said, “I’ll call someone, alright?” and she nodded.

The payphone was a bit of a walk, and he had to wait behind two people in line, but it was enough time for him to muster up the courage to make the call. Even still, when he had the phone in his hand, all he could do was stare at it.

He was trying to remember the exact words you said to him the last time he spoke to you. Something like, “I hope I’m the last one you call,” he was sure. It was hard to remember your phrasing now, but the memory still stung all the same.

And he knows it’s not fair to call you, but he was going to anyway. Because in all honesty, you were the only option he had.

Any other time, he’d rely on Hopper for a ride. But Hopper wasn’t around anymore.

So he dialed your number and prayed you hadn’t changed it from the one he knew by heart.

Your hand darted out of your blanket to reach your bedside telephone. The ringing killed your half asleep ears, and you hardly knew what you were doing when you put the receiver to your ear.

“Hello?”

You could barely get the word out; your voice was thick with sleep that was slowly creeping over you.

“Hey. It’s Steve.”

With your heavy eyes shut, sleep was pulling you back in. Your whole body jumped a little bit when you attempted to stay awake.

“Steve?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry for waking you up, but -”

You didn’t know what was going on, and then you heard sirens on the phone. A jolt of anxiety seared through you at the sound. That’s what got you to wake up - then you realized who you were talking to.

“Steve?”

“...Yeah.”

“What - what’s wrong?”

Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you sat up in bed, holding yourself up with one shaky arm.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you held your breath until he answered your question. “There was an, uh - accident at Starcourt, and - I don’t know who else to call. I’m sorry, I can’t drive right now and I don’t have anybody else.”

“Are you okay?”

“Barely.”

You didn’t give your answer a second thought. “I’ll be there in, like, five minutes, okay?”

You could hear his breath of relief over the phone. “Okay. Thank you.”

After stealing your mother’s car keys, you stuffed your bare feet into combat boots and ran to the car. Even though you still only had your learners permit, you absolutely floored it to the mall without a single thought in your mind. It was like you were on autopilot, simply doing what you were supposed to, because you were scared.

You saw plumes of smoke before Starcourt ever came into view, and you swallowed through your dry throat because you knew something bad happened.

You had to fight through crowds and cops before you were allowed to pass under the police tape to search for Steve, which wasn’t easy. Every face you saw wasn’t his and each second that passed dug a deeper pit in your stomach.

The second-to-last ambulance in the lineup is where you found him, sitting next to a girl whose head was on his shoulder.

And when you saw him… it wasn’t him. Your eyes glazed over him because he was hardly recognizable.

You’d seen him beat up before. He’s had his fair share of fights at school; you wiped blood off his face and helped him nurse black eyes. But it was never like this.

His left eye was swollen shut. Crimson stained from his eyebrow to his jawline. His skin was aggravated red, his clothes were blood rusted, his knuckles were ripped open.

And still, somehow, his hair looked perfectly done. That sight alone made you want to laugh and cry at the same time, because of course he managed to keep its style untouched. It was so Steve.

You ran to him; your legs carried you there on their own, shoelaces smacking against wet pavement. You weren’t thinking when you called out his name or when you flung your arms around his neck. You hugged him like it would heal him, like the scent of your perfume could cover the smoke he smelled of.

It’d been almost a year since you’d talked to him, and the jagged edges of your ended friendship still cut deep, but you didn’t care. Not when he looked the way he did; not when he was hugging you so tight; not when your tears were dripping onto his skin.

You pulled back and looked at him, and his wounds didn’t look any better up close.

“Oh my god, Steve, are you okay? What the hell happened?”

“I’m alright,” he said. He wouldn’t look at you, or couldn’t bring himself to. “I’m just glad you came. I’m sorry -”

“Don’t,” you said, and then you looked around at the scene. “Have the paramedics even seen you? Why are you just sitting here?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I - I’m fine. They said I’m fine. They’re all busy with others but - I’m fine, don’t worry.”

That’s when you noticed the girl next to him, who was looking at you like you were crazy, and you realized what you were potentially barging in on.

They sat close - too close to be friendly. They were basically cuddling when you first saw them. It was obvious what they were, so of course she was looking at you that way.

You didn’t mean to make her jealous, but a part of you didn’t care.

“Are both of you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, answering for the two of them. The girl nodded. “This is Robin, by the way.”

You introduced yourself to her, trying to be cordial even though you were meeting in the worst of situations.

“You two can stay at my place tonight, if you want to,” you told them. Steve asked Robin if she was okay with that, and she said yes, and so you led them to your car.

You weren’t sure why you made the offer to Steve - you wanted him with you, sure. After seeing the condition he was in, you wouldn’t sleep unless you knew you were keeping him safe and sound in your own bedroom.

Old habits die hard.

But, all things considered, you should have just taken him to his own home, where he could be with Robin in peace. Without cut ties lingering in the air like flies.

You drove him home anyway.

Nobody spoke until you got to your bedroom.

“Do you need a shower?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. Robin nodded.

“Okay. Robin, you can take my bathroom. Steve can shower downstairs.”

You dug through bottom drawers to find clothes for each of them - you still had the ones Steve kept stored there, as embarrassing as it was, so it wasn’t a difficult task. And you’d let Robin choose from your pajama drawer.

And then you got back into bed, because you didn’t know what else to do for them.

Robin stood in the doorway of your bathroom, just staring into the room. When Steve opened your bedroom door, she snapped her head back to him.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

She glanced over at you. You wanted to hide from the tension in the room.

“I - I don’t know how to use this faucet.”

He showed her how, and then made for the exit, but she called for him again.

“I was just thinking - you know - if we both shower at the same time, won’t the water pressure be super low? And what if the hot water runs out before I’m done, and -”

“I’ll be quick, Robs,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

Steve took one step into the hallway before stopping. The darkness looked like it went on forever. He didn’t remember your house being so unlit, or having so many hiding places, and suddenly his legs were shaky.

“...You’re probably right, though. I’ll just wait out here until you’re done.”

“Yeah. And I’ll keep the door cracked open, for… all the steam.”

“That’s a good idea.”

And he sat on the floor right outside of the bathroom door. When Robin was finished, they swapped places. As if they couldn’t be apart for longer than twenty minutes.

You didn’t ask them any questions.

…

The two of them slept on a pallet of old blankets on your bedroom floor. Robin made Steve sleep closest to the door. He tried not to be upset about it.

And he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but it seemed to swallow him. He didn’t dream, or toss and turn, but he woke up unrested.

Everything still hurt just as bad as it did the night before. And Robin’s snoring was making his headache worse.

You were no longer in bed, so he decided to get up and find you.

He wasn’t sure what kind of interaction he’d be walking into when he found you in the kitchen, but he tried to keep his head high.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hey.” You had a mug in your hand. “Your eye looks better.”

“It doesn’t feel any better,” he said, and he wanted to make a joke that it actually looks worse - because when he closes his right eye, everything’s blurry - but he held that one in. He wasn’t ready for a comedic coping mechanism quite yet.

You put Tylenol on the island that separated the two of you. “Take them. I don’t know if it’ll help much, but it can’t hurt.”

The bottle said to take two, so he took three. And then the awkward quiet started washing in.

Until, “I saw what happened on the news,” and Steve almost coughed up the water he was chugging.

“What are they saying?” he asked, because he didn’t know what story he was supposed to be playing along with.

“Just talking about the fire,” you said. Your voice sounded so dim, and Steve hated it. “It’s… crazy. Hopper… he…” You couldn’t say the word.

“I know,” Steve said.

“And thirty others.”

His throat felt dry. “Thirty?”

Truly, he didn’t know that many people hadn’t survived. And now, it all felt real. Really real.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m just glad - you were lucky to get out, Steve.”

You had no clue how lucky he’d really been. And hopefully you would never have to know.

“I know.”

You sat your mug down, brushed your hands on your chest like you were trying to wipe off everything you knew of the accident, then blew out a loud breath.

“Let’s just think about something else.”

Almost at the same time as you, he spoke. “Thank you.”

“...What for?”

“For coming to my rescue,” he said, huffing a laugh. “I know that I… didn’t really deserve it.”

“Don’t thank me, Steve.”

“Seriously. You could’ve just told me to walk home, but you didn’t.”

“I’m just being a good friend,” you said, then shrugged. “I hope you would do it for me.”

“In a heartbeat.”

He wondered if this was his chance to say sorry.

Or if there was even a point in it.

He was afraid you’d do no more than laugh in his face, and even if he deserved it he didn’t want to succumb to it.

But he had to. Because he almost died last night. And he could be fighting those monsters again, any day now. Was he going to lose this chance? Or is he going to die without saying another word to you?

He stared down at his ripped knuckles. The wounds still looked fresh. They stung just from touching the open air.

He stared, and stared, and stared, and - he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t face it.

Your footsteps toward him made him jump back.

You were holding a box of band-aids.

You held out your hand, asking for his without words, and he offered both of them to you. First his right, then his left, were covered in pink, green, and yellow band-aids by you.

It was gentle and kind, the way you went about it. Like you would hurt him even more if you weren’t careful.

He still had dried blood under his nails and splinters in his palms. He watched your clean hands holding his beaten up ones and he felt bad, because your skin was too soft to bother with the cuts and calluses on his.

But you held them anyway.

He put his fingers through yours and you didn’t stop him. He wanted to cry.

“I’m just glad you're alright.”

He didn’t know what to say - there wasn’t anything to say, he guessed. Nothing to make it better or change anything.

All he could do was squeeze your hand and watch you wipe tears off your cheeks.

Until he noticed a cut on the back of your hand. He pulled it closer so he could get a better look.

“What happened?”

“I dropped a knife while I was cooking last night. It’s fine.”

It looked fine, but Steve wanted to repay your favor, so he pulled a band-aid from the near empty box and put it on your wound.

“We match,” he said.

You laughed. “We’re even now.”

He felt overwhelmed with melancholy. He needed to rest, he wanted to close his eyes and not open them for weeks.

“I should go check on Robin,” he said as he walked backwards toward the stairs. He kept his eyes to the ground, away from the look on your face. “She’ll flip if she wakes up and she’s alone.”

You said nothing.

…

The following days and weeks were a lot of checking on Robin, and Robin checking on him. Too much waking up in the middle of the night and keeping his eyes glued to his bedroom door just in case. Only feeling safe enough if he had a baseball bat hugged to his chest and Robin snoring next to him.

So - he wasn’t doing well, but it was fine. He tried not to complain about it. Robin was the only person he let himself be half honest with - but he kept the truth to himself, because she’d get anxious if he said what he really felt.

Steve was scared. And he didn’t want anyone else to know it, because all of the others acted as if their lives were perfectly back to normal. They were doing well. So he had to be doing well, too. For their sake.

Weeks after that awful night at the mall, he and Robin conned their way into getting jobs at Family Video. He was grateful, because god, he was too codependent on her.

It was a random night at his place when Robin brought you up out of nowhere.

“I just realized, I never thanked your neighbor for saving us that night.”

“You don’t need to. I’m sure she knows you’re thankful.”

“Yeah, but, I feel like I should pay her back.”

Steve shrugged at her words. He didn’t want to think about you more than he had to - it hurt just a little bit too much.

“Should I give her a gift?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “She likes cookies. Get her cookies.”

And Steve didn’t know it, but the next day, Robin rang your doorbell with a plastic box of cookies in her hands. You opened the door and she started rambling from the get.

“Hey - Steve said you like cookies, so, I decided I’d bring you some to thank you. For showing up at Starcourt in the middle of the night and practically saving our lives. And for letting us sleep on your floor. That was really nice of you.”

You didn’t know what to say. Robin seemed weird. You just went along with it.

“Oh - thanks. That’s cool. Thanks.”

She shoved them toward you, and you took them.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked.

Instead of answering, she just stepped through the door. You brought her to the kitchen.

“I hope they’re good. I just got them at the corner store. But all cookies are the same, right?”

“Well - no, but, it’s the thought that counts.”

“Oh.”

The gifted cookies didn’t look much better than the worst recipes you’d made, but you opened the crude packaging and gave them a chance.

They were fine. Maybe a little worse than fine. You gave Robin one, anyway.

“They’re good!” she said, with a mouth full.

“They are,” you lied. “They’re not homemade, but they’ll do. Thanks, Robin.”

You ate half of your cookie. Robin finished hers. It was quiet.

You figured you might as well try to get to know this girl a bit better. At least be polite and make small talk, just to be nice.

So you asked an easy question. “How long have you and Steve been together?”

But it wasn’t as simple as you thought, because she started coughing up the cookie. “What do you mean?”

“...What?”

“We’re not together,” she said with a heavy dose of sass. “God, I’ll never get over people asking me that. I am not dating Steve Harrington. Gross.”

“Oh - sorry, I just thought -”

“It’s fine,” she said. “Everyone always asks. I guess a guy and a girl can’t be friends without everyone making assumptions.”

You laughed. “Yeah. People used to do the same thing to us. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask a weird question.”

“It’s alright. Actually, I’m supposed to be at his place in, like - well, ten minutes ago. You should come over if you're free.”

“Uh - I don’t know, me and Steve - we don’t really hang out anymore.”

You aren’t sure why you didn’t just make up an excuse. Something about Robin made you feel okay about being honest.

“It’s cool. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. It’s kind of been just us since what happened with - the fire. The fire that happened. So - you know. It’d be nice to have someone else around. If you want.”

You were curious how this would turn out. So, “sure. I’ll come.”

“Great. You should bring a cookie for Steve.”

You brought the whole box, and decided you would accidentally forget them at his place so they wouldn’t go to waste.

Steve’s front door was yanked open from the inside before Robin could let herself in, and his wide eyes became a little less wide when he saw her.

“Where the fuck were you - you were supposed to be here half an hour ago, I thought you got fucking eaten or something.”

“Relax. I was just making a cookie delivery next door. Chill.”

Robin threw her thumb over her shoulder. You poked your head out from behind her and gave Steve a weak wave.

“Oh.”

“What exactly would she get eaten by?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. You noticed he was gripping his car keys in a tight, scarred fist.

“Monsters,” Robin joked. Steve didn’t laugh. You did a little bit. “I invited her over. Is that alright?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

You stuck to Robin all the way to his living room, because that was easier than making yourself comfortable. You hadn’t been in this house in ages, and you weren’t sure what to do with yourself.

“Where’s my crossword?”

“I finished it.”

“Asshole. You know I hate that. Just get your own.”

“Whatever, you suck at them, anyway.”

Robin, unlike you, had no reservations in the Harrington house. She kicked her feet up and started channel surfing as soon as she sat on the couch.

“Have a cookie,” Robin said to Steve. You reached the box out to him; he sat down next to you to take one, taking up the spot between you and Robin.

It was weird being so close to him again. His knee was touching yours, and it made your skin feel too hot. Still, you didn’t move away.

“These are shit,” he said with a full mouth.

“Hey!”

You laughed loud, because you completely agreed.

“No, seriously, these are awful.”

“I spent five dollars on those!”

You gasped. “Five? Robin.”

“You should have just given her the money instead. Or thrown it in the trash.” Steve dropped his half eaten cookie back in the box. You put the plastic lid back on and sat it on the coffee table.

“I thought they were good. You’re being so rude right now. They were a gift.”

Steve looked at you. “You didn’t tell her how bad they are?”

“I didn’t - I don’t think they’re that bad.”

“You’re lying,” Steve laughed, then he turned to Robin. “She’s lying.”

“I’m not lying!”

“I know you, and I know you’re lying.”

“It’s fine, guys, you don’t have to spare my feelings or anything.”

You sighed, defeated. “...They are pretty terrible.”

Robin scoffed loud and obnoxious.

“Whatever. I’ll enjoy them.”

…

As it turns out, Robin acted like glue between you and Steve. Neither of you would have ever made an effort to see each other again, out of embarrassment or guilt or both, but Robin didn’t have to unpack any of that baggage. She didn’t even know it existed.

Instead, she immediately saw you as a friend. And she brought you in like she had known you forever.

But Robin and Steve were a package deal. So, if you were a friend to her, you had to be a friend to him, too.

And the two of them were weird. Most of the time, they left you feeling like a third wheel on their friendship.

They could be mean to each other. Rough. They acted the exact way you knew siblings do, but that was only surface level. There was something deeper - more than anything a brother and sister had, because it wasn’t the blood in their veins that connected them. It was the roots they chose to grow into each other that kept them together.

Robin spent the night with Steve more often than she didn’t. And she bullied him for his bad cooking, and he told her when an outfit was ugly, and they stood next to each other like two puzzle pieces that didn’t match but fit together with a hard press.

Sometimes you sat on the sidelines and ached, mourning a friendship that had been buried some odd years ago. It was well beyond rotten - something decayed and unrecognizable now. Even if you dug it up, it couldn’t be the same as it was.

But you wished.

And as you sat and listened to Robin chastise Steve for saying something dumb - watched as he meddled her hair into a purposeful mess, you could only laugh and sink into yourself. You were happy and sad; you cherished your time together and dreaded it, all at the same time.

Above it all, Steve was different. Distant in the way he would never meet your eyes, or laugh too loud at your jokes, or sit too close for too long.

It all felt fleeting. Like that week you spent angry at him - stuck in a weird limbo, between friends and strangers, a frustrating purgatory. Some kind of Schrodinger’s Cat of a friendship - alive and dead at the same time.

You would have just said something, if it felt like you could. But if Steve minded, he didn’t show it. If he missed how things were, he didn’t act like it. And, as you knew him, if he wanted to he would.

And it wasn’t totally bad. It was just new. You’d get used to it with a spoonful of sugar and a hard swallow.

On a random day, you had mentioned off-hand that you had been meaning to visit your aunt’s apartment to drop off and pick up a few things. Steve offered to take you, and you agreed, and the next day, you made good on your plans.

The two of you didn’t hang out without Robin very often. Since early August, the number was hardly a handful. But with the radio turned on, it wasn’t too awkward.

Steve had visited your aunt with you several times growing up. He went to her house-warming party when she moved into her apartment. You were thirteen, and you made a game of pressing every button in the elevator before getting off it. Now, every time you’re there, you think about how you used to chase him down the halls.

Her place was the nicest there was in Hawkins, in the tallest residential building in town. Parking was a nightmare, but Steve kept his complaints under his breath, and he even carried your bag for you.

The elevator was the only thing in the apartment’s lobby. As you pressed the button, Steve spoke up.

“You wanna take the stairs instead?”

“Why?”

He shrugged. You laughed.

“You want to climb eight flights of stairs? No thanks.”

“I’m an athlete,” he mumbled under his breath, sheepish. “This thing is taking forever, anyways.”

It dinged as it finally started moving down toward the bottom floor.

“It’s on its way.”

He stepped back, looked around, and he must have spotted the stairwell. “I’ll race you,” and then he took off.

The elevator door opened as the stairway’s door closed, and you rode to the top floor alone.

He didn’t win the race - far from it, and you laughed as he tried to hide his struggling breathing.

“Been waiting for you all day, athlete. Thought you’d take ‘til Christmas.”

“Psh. Whatever. I’ll win on the way down.”

The elevator creaked and hummed as it started moving down, and Steve glared at it.

You laughed, “You’re weird,” and you left him behind to walk down the hall.

He worked fast to catch up, and called out, “The loser pays for dinner!”

“You know I’d never pass up that bet.”

Your aunt wasn’t home - she rarely was. But a key was under the mat, and as you walked inside her tuxedo cat, Webster, greeted you at the door.

“Hey, dude,” Steve said, kneeling down to pet him.

An old cardboard box sat on the dining table nearby, “Glassware” written on the side in crude permanent marker. It’s what you had been instructed to pick up and take back home - you weren’t sure what was inside.

You sat down and opened it and pulled out the first thing you saw: a white paper bag, one you knew printed photos came in.

“This what you came for?”

Steve stood next to you. He had Webster in his arms, who was purring loud and melting into his hand.

“Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Family stuff, I’m guessing.” You pulled out a fat stack of pictures and the one on top made you bark a laugh. “Oh my god.”

You and Steve, seven years old, wearing matching cowboy costumes for Halloween - you with a white cowboy hat, him with a black one. You stood with a jack-o-lantern between you. You had your hands on your hips and a frown on your face; Steve had his chin pushed out in a wicked scowl.

You turned it to him, and he laughed just as loud as you. “Look at those two mean mugs!”

“Do you remember this?”

He sat in the chair next to you, continuing to look at the photo over your shoulder. Webster made himself comfortable in his lap.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “We fought all night because you stole my -”

“Oh my god.”

“You stole my full size Snickers.”

“I did not!”

“You did.”

“I didn’t!”

The way he looked at you told you this was still a sore subject.

“You went ahead of me to the Smith’s place while I was trying to tie my shoe and you took her last bar. That’s what happened!”

“That’s not stealing!”

“It is!”

“I didn’t mean to leave you behind! It’s not my fault you didn’t know how to tie your shoes!”

“You didn’t, either. And, I learned before you.”

You puffed a sigh and flipped the photo to the back of the stack. “Why are you still fighting over this? We shared all the candy, anyway.”

“It’s the principle. Theft is a crime, and you never apologized.”

You only laughed. No way were you giving him that apology now.

When you pulled the photos out of the box, you didn’t intend on looking through them all, but your curiosity kept you flicking through them. Most were of random family members or photos of the beach, but pictures of you and Steve were littered throughout the stack. There wasn’t a single photo of you that didn’t have him in it, too.

There were from some first days of school, birthday parties, sleepovers. They were sorted somewhat chronologically - looking through them was pure nostalgia, memories hitting you at every angle as you watched yourself grow up.

The next one to catch your eye was from a middle school dance. Neither of you wanted to attend, but your mother insisted. Your one condition was that you could wear whatever you wanted.

So you and Steve had swapped styles. You wore his way oversized Atlanta Flames jersey, a baseball cap, and sneakers that didn’t fit; he had on your purple sweater, a big pearl necklace, and white jeans.

It was cute, and it was goofy, and you wished you could jump into the picture and relive it.

At that age, the only thing you knew was that you and Steve would live forever, together. Now that you know what you know, your heart ached for the little girl in these pictures. What would she think about the space between you two now?

There were pictures from summer camp, swimming pools, and your first day of high school.

Webster meowed. Steve meowed back at him.

As you got to the bottom of the stack, pictures of the two of you were less and less. The last one - the one you didn’t know would be your last picture with him - was of you, him, and a few of your extended family members. A day spent at the lake that Steve really didn’t want to go to, for some reason only an angsty teenage boy could understand, that you dragged him to. It was the summer before your junior year.

In the photo, his arm was draped completely over your shoulder. You remembered him leaning all of his weight on you - to the point that you fell out of your seat after the picture was taken by your aunt.

And you had fun, like you always did. Steve became a member of your family out of happenstance. It was just because he was always around, really. They all saw him as much as they saw you.

You put that photo to the back of the stack and kept carding through them. You didn’t find any more pictures of you and Steve.

The rest were all more recent. Steve stopped you on one that was of you alone - sat at a dinner table, wearing a cable knit sweater.

“That’s a good one,” he said.

“Yeah. It’s from Christmas. Senior year, maybe.”

You acted like you weren’t sure, but you knew exactly when that photo was taken. You just didn’t want him to know how sad you were in it.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” and you laughed, “this was not a fun party.” He didn’t reply, and so you kept talking, sparing him a shy glance. “Everyone kept asking where you were.”

The silence was heavier this time.

“Oh,” he said, trying to bury it. “Yeah.” An awkward chuckle. “I bet that was annoying.”

You laughed and tried to make it sound real - tried to seem like you didn’t care. “Yeah, well, you know how my family always liked you better.”

He shrugged, looking like he was going to make a joke, but he didn’t. His eyes were distant as they moved down to his lap.

You shoved the picture to the back with the rest.

The one behind it was just as lonely.

Still, Steve perked up at it. “Is that from graduation?”

You wore a cap and gown, you held a bouquet of flowers, and you stood all alone.

“Yeah.”

Steve’s hand wrapped around yours holding the picture, and he tilted it toward him so he could get a better look.

“My aunt kept trying to get me to find you for a picture,” you laughed.

“You should’ve.” He smiled something big and real, and you realized with a rush that this is the closest you’d been to him in a while. If you kept looking, you could count the freckles on his cheek. His thumb pressed into the back of your hand. “I remember seeing you. You looked real cute.”

You ignored his compliment to say something snide. “I ignored you so hard.”

Another laugh, “Really?”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah. That’s fair - I would’ve, too.”

You tried not to think about how badly you wished he was standing next to you in the picture.

Steve spoke up, “I -” but you cut him off by accident.

“It’s fine.”

You didn’t mean it. He could tell.

“...Is it?”

It was honest when you replied, “I don’t know.”

He was still holding your hand.

“I never told you I’m sorry.”

“I guess I just figured you were.”

You dropped the pictures on the table, dropping his hand with them.

“Is that good enough?” It was an honest question.

“I don’t know. Maybe it is.”

And your answer was genuine, because you didn’t know. Steve had come back into your life just as easily as he left it - on a whim, without any warning. You didn’t put any roadblocks in his way.

But you stared at the photos spread out in front of you. At the story they told of your friendship that would always be unfinished.

You had to teach yourself how to do life without him. All of those lessons seemed useless, now, because here he was. And you didn’t even know if he ever missed you.

You pulled away from him, a move that was far more snappy than you meant. You did it like he’d reached out and burned you. It had Webster jumping down to the floor.

“It’s fine,” you repeated.

“I think you’re lying just to make me feel better.”

“I don’t know why I’m lying.”

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” he mumbled, and you stood up. The chair scraped the floor in a way that grated your ears. You turned your back to him.

“I thought I knew you.” Your eyes welled up, your nose started to run. You balled your hands up like you were on defense. “I thought you would say sorry, and make everything go back to normal like you always did. But you didn’t. I thought you would miss me, at least, but - but you didn’t.”

“You think I didn’t miss you?”

The shake in his voice had your fist dropping to hit your thighs, defeated.

“I miss you more than anything. I’m sorry - I’m not just saying it to make you feel better, or because I have to, I - I don’t even deserve to be saying it.” He paused, and you could imagine the way he was running his hands through his hair and pacing around with nerves. “I’m sorry for being a bad friend. For not treating you like you deserved - I hate myself for it. You were the best thing in my life, and I know that now. I was just too scared to come crawling back to you because I wasn’t worth your time.”

You breathed in deep, exhaled hard, and it felt like the first breath you had taken in two years. It was that feeling when you’ve forgotten your keys but find the door unlocked - the relief of being let in despite a mistake, it rushed through you, and it had you turning to look at him. You found him standing and staring at you, through you, with glassy eyes you would always know.

“I just miss you, Steve.”

Three steps and then he was around you. And you were safer than a child hiding under their blanket from whatever lurked in their closet - monsters weren’t real if his arms were around you. That had always, always been true.

Webster rubbed up against your leg, then Steve’s. The hug shook with both of your laughter, and he held you tighter.

…

Things didn’t go back to how they used to be after that, but it was close enough. And you were trying to settle into the differences that kept knocking you off your feet.

It started with late night phone calls.

Before, you never talked on the phone. Why would you when his house was a stone throw away? If you wanted to talk, you’d invite yourself to his place.

But the two of you were still dancing on the ripped edges of that two year old fight. Wounds were still healing - almost there, but not quite. So it was easier to take it slow, to treat this time as something brand new.

And it was brand new.

You had caught yourself grinning ear to ear over stories he’d tell you, and you had to force the smile off your face. Like you shouldn’t be acting that way over your friend - you quickly realized you just couldn’t help it.

He’d keep you up too late and tease you for it the next day. And you weren’t sure if he was trying to get a rise out of you, but that’s how you felt. He acted so smug after seeing your cheeks swell in embarrassment.

So it wasn’t going back to how it was before. In fact, it was going down an entirely different road - one that wasn’t even on the map.

You weren’t complaining, because you felt things you hadn't felt before around him. He made you feel warm, and you were addicted to it. You were addicted to him, and you had blind hope that the feeling was mutual.

He’d spend his entire lunch break visiting you, even if your breaks didn’t line up. He’d follow you around the apparel section at Roses and you’d have all your attention on him, just the way he liked it. He made sure to see you every day.

You never thought he’d make you feel so shy, but it was an emotion you couldn’t get enough of. You hardly realized what you were spiraling into until you’d catch him looking at you with a blush on his cheeks, or until you had to stop yourself from thinking about him every night before bed.

But there was something glaring, something major, something you couldn’t look at directly until it came up in conversation with Robin.

Robin and Steve always had Sundays off, so the day was designated to be stolen by their other friends - who were all in junior high.

When you asked why they were friends with junior high kids, Steve called himself their babysitter. Robin said she was their good influence. You avoided asking follow up questions.

It was a lazy autumn day, one where the warmth of fallen leaves reflected in the air - something rare for early November.

The youngest of the kids, Erica, loved putting on a nice outfit and going for a walk. Today it was yellow Chucks, a red silk and pleated maxi skirt, and a long sleeve button up with a rainbow of vertical stripes. (It would have been a tie dyed short sleeve, if Steve hadn’t told her it was too chilly for it.) She had stuck gems beside her eyes, the kind that come in the plastic packets and don’t stay on for long, and Robin packed yellow eyeshadow on her eyelids.

She was downright cute, but if you told the eleven year old that she’d aim her sass at you and shoot to kill. She much preferred receiving a refined compliment, because, “I hear that all the time.”

Today, you told her you loved the way she paired so many colors together. She grinned something beautiful and kicked her foot up behind her and agreed with you.

Steve had once described her as a menace - you didn’t understand why.

You walked with Robin a few feet behind Erica, Dustin, and Steve. Dustin had not stopped talking the whole time, except when Erica butted in. Steve had stolen the younger boy’s thinking cap hat and was wearing it backwards.

“The last time I wore this coat, I found two phone numbers in the pocket.” Robin held up two fingers and gestured to the Letterman jacket she wore. It was Steve’s. “Can you believe that? I mean, what a douche. I wouldn’t even wear this if it wasn’t so warm.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I believe it, actually. They were probably from some cheerleaders or something.”

“Yeah, well, he can’t get any numbers these days. He’s cursed to be forever lame as punishment for the jerk he was in high school.” Robin was smirking wicked and wide, like it was satisfying for her.

“He’s lost all his charm?”

“All of it. I mean, one hundred percent. I used to keep count of how many times he fell on his face in front of girls. It’s magnificent, truly.” Then, quieter, “He’ll get it back, though. One day.”

“He used to have no trouble at all.” The conversation had the gears in your head turning; it had you speaking without thinking. “I don’t know. He’s really different now.”

Robin laughed, like you were joking. “Yeah, he learned manners, for one.”

“It’s not that.” You were thinking out loud. “He’s nicer, yeah, but… it’s almost like he’s not even the same person. I’m not sure what happened.”

The Steve you knew was boisterous. He was unapologetic. He was stupidly confident, the life of the party, and he wasn’t afraid of anything. A wouldn’t take no for an answer, go with the flow, drop of the hat kind of person.

You were lucky to know him when that’s all he was. Before the halls of Hawkins High swallowed him and spit out someone ornery who cared too much but not at all.

You thought it was just Tommy and Carol’s influence. Now that he wasn’t their friend anymore, you thought he’d become who he used to be.

“He told me how close you two were before,” Robin said. She was tugging on a strand of hair that was stuck in her lip gloss. “I guess I never knew him like you did.”

“He’s so quiet now. He used to be so loud.” You meant it more than literally - you hoped Robin would understand. “I don’t know. So much changed and it’s only been a couple years.”

It seemed like she was struggling to reply, because it took her more than a few seconds to get her words out.

“I guess - I mean - I think you’ve probably changed a lot, too. Two years is a long time, right?”

Robin knew. No one could tell, but she knew.

Maybe the differences that you had described of Steve were really there. She wasn’t able to see them the way you could, but she didn’t care. It was selfish to admit that she would never change a thing about him - but one.

He was waiting.

Everyone was, she thinks.

Waiting for another fight.

It wasn’t easy to go back to normal after trudging through hell. It was like coming out the other side of trench warfare unharmed - you didn’t. When a gun fires, its bullets hit. If a bomb is dropped it doesn’t miss a fucking thing, and Starcourt Mall was goddamn ground zero.

And Robin wasn’t there for the disappearance of Will Byers. The death of Barbra Holland. The Upside Down. The Demogorgon. The Demodogs, and the lab, and the girl with psychic powers. She wasn’t there, but Steve was.

Her head hurt just thinking of the stories he’s told her. And she knew his did, too, more often than he’d admit to her.

And she felt bad when her sleeping patterns went back to normal but his didn’t. When she got used to being on edge all the time, Steve still jumped at any noise. His phone would ring and she would watch him prepare himself to answer it - to hear Dustin’s voice on the line telling him that it’s back.

So when you said that Steve’s changed, Robin didn’t know what to tell you. You were right, and she knew that, but she couldn’t tell you why. You knew everything about him besides, well - everything.

Robin wished she didn’t have to know, either. She wanted to tell you that you should be grateful you couldn’t see the shackles on his ankles. You got to know him before - and Robin would give anything for that.

But she couldn’t change a thing.

Instead, all she could do was wait.

And lie.

And pretend.

“He’s still loud,” she said, uncomfortable as all get out.

As if he heard her words, Steve busted out in a stomach hurting kind of laughter at one of Dustin’s stories.

“See what I mean?”

Your destination was in sight now. Steve turned around - letting Dustin steal his hat back - walking backwards, and reached a hand out to you.

“You coming?”

Your pace turned into a skipping sort of jog to catch up with him. When you were close enough he grabbed your hand and didn’t let go. He’d been doing that often.

The kids and Robin broke away, heading for the tiny park that was up on your right. To your left, Steve tugged you to a tiny convenience store.

“Place your orders!” he called.

Dustin and Erica shouted at the same time. Steve mumbled something about not being able to understand them, so you relayed their messages.

“You’re getting two things! No more than that!” he shouted back. “Robin?”

“7-Up.”

“What else?”

“Surprise me!”

You hung onto his arm as you walked into the store, and you weren’t even sure why. He never pulled away when you got that close, so you kept going back.

You went for the drink coolers first. He reached for the apple juice.

“She likes orange juice the best, now,” you said.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“You better be right - if she’s mad at me over this, I’ll be mad at you.”

You rounded up all the snacks everyone wanted, following Steve’s only two items rule. You laughed when he chose plain potato chips as Robin’s surprise - the blandest possible choice. And while he checked out at the counter, you wandered off into the aisles.

He acted like he didn’t want you to go, pulling you back and asking a quiet, “where’re you going?”

“To look around.”

It was straight to the candy aisle for a Blow Pop for Erica, Pop Rocks for Dustin, and sour gummy worms to share. You liked spoiling them - it helped to get on their good side.

You made a stop at the candy bars to grab a Snickers bar before going back to the counter, and Steve immediately shook his head when he saw you.

“What are you doing? What’s all that?”

“It’s all for me.” You dropped it all for the clerk to scan.

“All of it?”

“Yeah.”

“Even though you said you didn’t want anything?”

“I changed my mind!”

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, and you watched his hand move to his back pocket.

“Don’t you dare.”

His wallet was half way out of his pocket as he laughed. “What?”

“You’re not paying. Stop.” You tried to sound mad, and felt you were doing a good job, but he kept giggling at you.

“Oh, are you my boss now?”

“Yes, Steve,” and you bumped into him, trying to push him away. “Don’t make me say your full name.”

“Just let me -”

“Take their things to them! Go!”

You were shocked when he listened, but he only made it as far as the door. He stood against the glass with his arms crossed, staring at you until you finally followed him.

“What are you looking at?”

He pushed his back into the door to open it. “Trying to figure it out.” He reached for your hand, and you swatted it away, only for him to catch you, anyway. And you let him hold your hand, all the way across the street to the park.

Your friends sat at a picnic table waiting patiently. It was actually two tables pushed together, doubling the normal length; Erica and Dustin sat opposite each other on one end, and Robin sat in the middle, crisscrossed on top of the table.

Steve divvied snacks to grabby hands, and you snuck their surprise treats in to the sound of thank yous.

You took your seat on the other end of the table across from Steve. When you sat down, he put a bottle of Coke between you.

“Are you going to share?” you asked.

“Only if you’ve got something to give me in return.”

The Snickers bar made a thud on the wooden table. Steve hummed. “I guess that’s good enough.”

You were almost happy with the trade until you realized, “No bottle opener?”

His eyes doubled their size. “Shit.” Then, he grabbed the bottle. “No, it's a twist off.” The noise he made as he tried taking off the cap was something like a squeak, and everyone at the table laughed.

“Just walk back to the store!”

“Dustin - Dustin! Do you -”

The boy slid a large key ring down the table. It was a wad of keys, keychains, and gadgets.

“It’s on there somewhere.”

There was a mini flashlight, a laser pointer, a plastic Q*bert charm, a pocket knife, keys and keys and keys, a kubaton, and, “Yes!” a bottle opener.

“This is why I keep you around, Henderson.”

“I’m the one keeping you guys around, first of all.”

You grabbed the Coke and guzzled a couple drinks worth in one go, and when you put it back down, Steve had already eaten half the candy bar in one bite.

“Steve!”

His mouth was full when he said, “What?”

“Why can’t you share? Why didn’t anyone ever teach you about sharing?” His laugh was sweeter than the chocolate he was shoving into your face. “Stop, I don’t wanna eat after you.”

“We’ve got the same germs,” he said, and he was feeding you the Snickers before you could make another argument.

The snacks were all gone much quicker than it took to walk and get them, because none of you would ever learn to savor the destination. Regardless, next Sunday, you’d all be sitting in the same spot - give or take a few others, creating a good day for yourselves.

And, if you were lucky, Steve would be holding your hand the whole time.

...

It didn’t matter who you were cheering for on the court, you hated high school basketball games.

Going to Lucas’s game brought back far too many memories than you’d care to recollect. But even though you hated it, you were still filled with pride watching the boy play the game so well.

And Steve hadn’t shut up about it all night. He spoke about Lucas shooting the buzzer beating winning basket like he was recounting a grand story - something from a movie or a comic book. Like you weren’t sitting beside him the entire time.

You stood with him in his kitchen, and the excitement had finally started to settle. You and Steve had spent far too long talking about how weird it was to be back in the high school gym, and both of you agreed that you didn’t miss it at all.

“Is Robin excited for spring break?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “She said she’s spending the entire week here so she can be as lazy as she wants, so - I guess she is.”

You threw a weak fist into his shoulder and he caught it. “What’s wrong with that?”

“She’s gonna steal all my time!” His grin was contagious as he slotted his fingers into yours. “And that means I can’t steal all of yours.”

“Does that mean I’m finally getting a break from you?” You laughed, but he didn’t.

It was weird, the way his entire demeanor changed in a snap. Before you could even take back the joke you made he was shifting his eyes and dropping his grin.

He had always worn his heart on his sleeve, even if he tried hiding it.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” It was a hand through his hair that said the opposite, but you’d never call out his tells. “I just - that reminded me there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” He dropped your hand to cross his arms, and it had you feeling nervous.

“What about? …Did I do something wrong?”

“No, honey.” You weren’t sure when that nickname came around, or when it started to stick, but it had a fairy fluttering its wings in your chest. He started to reach for you again, you could see it, but he stopped himself. “You could never do anything wrong.”

You laughed quiet. “Neither could you.”

You moved to stand next to him, mirroring the way his back leaned against the counter. Your arm pressed to his. He was looking at the floor; you were looking at him.

“Are you sure?” It started as a whisper but jumped into a shake, a crack in his voice that said more than he wanted to. And he looked at you, to see if you caught it, and you swore his eyes were shining. He didn’t show them to you for longer than a moment.

“Steve?”

“I just - I don’t want to fuck this up again.”

“How would that even happen?”

He looked at you like he knew something you didn’t. “I don’t know.”

You nudged his arm with your elbow, again and again, until his crossed arms dropped. Your pointer finger snaked around his, and the touch brought enough bravery out of him to link his fingers with yours.

“What do you know?”

He scoffed into a smile, one big enough to reach his eyes, and it brought him out of his funk. “I don’t know,” he said, moving closer to you as he made the joke.

“That’s what I thought,” you replied. “Not a thought going on in your head.”

Making him laugh was the key to his heart - you knew that, and it worked this time as well as it always had.

He had his head turned, cheek to shoulder, staring down at you; you were so close, you could watch his eyes move across your face and know where he was looking. They wandered, but when his gaze lingered on your lips - you noticed.

“I know one thing for sure,” he said.

When you took a loud breath, you’re sure he heard. He gave you eye contact again, and maybe you were seeing things, but you swore you saw question marks swimming in the green.

He didn’t breathe. You didn’t blink. You moved forward just a hair, and he looked back down, so you pressed on. You wanted to be closer, as close as you could get - it was curiosity or desperation, you didn’t know.

When he tilted his chin toward you, it was hardly noticeable. But you saw it, and it was enough. Your nose was just about to touch his - you watched his eyes close, right before yours did. There was nothing to do but move closer, closer, closer.

And then, when you felt just the softest graze of his skin on yours -

BAM! BAM! BAM!

You jumped back from each other like same-side magnets, gasping and jumping at the sound of loud knocks on the front door.

He moved fast, like he was looking for a way out, leaving you alone in the kitchen. “Shit.”

Steve had a good idea of who he’d see when he opened the door. The knob was jingling when he unlocked it, then pulled it open.

Sure enough, Robin. Wearing a flannel that was his, with wild bedhead that he couldn’t help laughing at.

“Did you walk here?”

“Yeah,” she croaked. “Let me in.”

It was written all over her face why she was there, and Steve felt bad.

Even though she asked to come in, she didn’t move. Her features were all scrunched up, her shoulders were hunched into her crossed arms.

“Robin -”

“I fucking hate this.” Loud, echoing into the night and through his door. “I hate it, Steve, and I swear - I swear it’s not over.” Her eyes wet her cheeks; she looked at him through tears. “It’s going to happen again. I can feel it. And I’m scared.”

He had to pull her inside, because he knew she’d stand in the same spot all night if he didn’t. She pushed into him, shoving her face into his shoulder, wiping her tears on his shirt.

“You just need to rest,” he told her.

She spoke something pitiful, not caring that her words were muffled. “The gate’s really closed, right? For sure?”

“It’s over, Robin, it was just a nightmare - you just need some good sleep, alright?”

She nodded, wiped her runny nose into her sleeve, and tried pulling her tears back in.

“I wish I could sleep anywhere else.”

“I know.” It wasn’t any sort of jab - it was just the truth. The only time she was truly afraid was when she slept alone.

She hit a fist into his chest, something playful that made things feel a little more okay, and then took herself to the stairs.

“I’ll be up in a minute to stand guard,” he joked. She barely laughed but it was enough, and he watched her until he couldn’t see her anymore.

And he hoped you hadn’t heard anything, because he wouldn’t be able to answer any questions you had. When he found you in the kitchen you looked nothing but concerned.

“Is she okay?”

All you knew was that she had nightmares about the mall fire. It was a realistic excuse, in comparison to the unbelievable truth.

“Yeah. You know how she is.”

You nodded. Steve wasn’t sure how to go back to the talk you were having before, so he avoided it.

You spoke first. “I hope she’s alright.”

“I should probably go be with her,” he said.

You were perfectly okay with it, understanding as always. “Yeah. She needs you.”

He walked you to the door, and it was too brief for his taste. But when you were there, he spoke up.

“I’m sorry. Can we finish this tomorrow, maybe? I promise - I… I really did want to talk.”

“Of course,” you said, and it was shy. “Don’t be sorry, Steve, she’s more important right now. We can talk any time.”

His arms wrapped around your shoulders for a crushing hug. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay? Before work. We can make plans then.”

And that was it - he watched you make your walk home until you walked into your front door, and that was it.

The moment was ruined, and he might not be able to make it happen again.

…

Steve didn’t call you the next morning.

part two!!!!

#my writing #perhaps the only steve fic i will ever write #if there are typos in this i. lmao i will rage #this took forever this is so fucking long if no one reads it i dont blame truly #anyway #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #fluff #angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

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tooearlyforthis · 2 years

Text

The Book | Steve Harrington

Guess who's still on a Stranger Things kick! If anyone has any Steve stories they like please send them my way!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Synopsis: Christmas, the best time of year to eat sweets, enjoy time with your family, and find out your best friend is in love with you.

(Slightly inspired by More Memories to Make by @hairrington - go check this one out it's great- also small moment inspired by the show Friends)

Warnings: little bit of fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining

Click here to see my masterlist

Christmas, the most wonderful time of the year. Slay bells ring, snow glistens, and y/n y/l has too many people in her home. She didn’t know why she volunteered to have the holiday party at her house this year, but, here she was, the house was packed with teenagers - plus the few newly-turned adults in their friend group.

She grabbed another tray of cookies from her kitchen. The room was already a mess, dishes stacking up in the sink, sprinkles all over the countertops. But that didn’t stop Robin Buckley, from taking a spoon and scooping up a wad of icing directly from the jar.

“Robin!” y/n explained.

Trying to swallow the icing to speak, she held up her hands. “I’m innocent!” Robin pleaded.

y/n rolled her eyes. “Come on, secret santa is about to start.”

A smile appeared on her friend's face as she walked over to take the cookies into the living room, stealing one for herself in the process. As they entered the grand living space, they saw the other guests light up at the restocking of their deserts.

y/n settled into the couch as she watched the younger kids dive forward for the cookies on the coffee table. Smiling, she felt the couch shift as someone sat down beside her.

“Did I miss the cookie refill?” asked Steve Harrington.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

He groaned in frustration. “Damn, your cookies are the best.”

y/n leaned close to his ear for only him to hear. “I may have hid a box of them away for us older kids for when the others go to sleep.”

Watching as his face lit up, he pulled her into a hug. “Yes! You really are the best, y/n.”

She felt her heart flutter at his words. Ever since she saw him back in high school, she felt herself swooning over him. At first, she hated herself for it. She didn’t even know the guy and if she was being honest, he was kind of a jerk.

And then the Upside Down happened and she was dragged along by her best friend, Jonathan Byers. Not too soon after shit started to go down did Steve enter the picture. She saved him from a demogorgon in the Byer’s house and that was the first time they had ever spoken.

y/n knew that from the moment he held out his hand and said, “Thanks for saving my life, I’m Steve Harrington,” her crush was not in vain. His warm smile, the soft shake of his hand…it was hard to stay away from.

She had kept a polite distance, knowing that he went after the girls he liked. If he was going to ask her out, he would have done it by now, so being just friends would have to do. But then those little moments would happen. The glance a second too long, the friendly smile in the hall. One look and y/n would find herself falling for him all over again.

She held in her breath as he continued to hug her, trying her best not to look into his eyes, when Nancy called out to silence the busy room.

“Okay everyone, let’s begin!” Nancy announced sitting down, next to her boyfriend.

Mike was the first to go, opening a new set of Dungeons and Dragons books from Will. He marveled over them, engulfing his friend in a huge hug.

Will got a new set of paints from Lucas who had recently learned of his friend's artistic skills, he was pretty proud of his present.

Lucas was shocked when he unwrapped a brand new basketball from Nancy. He didn’t even know how she knew he played but didn’t question it.

Nancy was next to open, getting a new set of journals from Robin. She smiled at her new writing books, happy since she had told Robin a few weeks prior she was almost out.

Robin was beyond ecstatic when she opened up a pack of language-learning cassette tapes. Dustin had given it to her, hoping that she would wanna learn Russian properly and not through some weird coded messages.

Dustin was also pleased with his gift from Max. As he opened up a new collection of hats, hugging his friend tightly, y/n felt a tug on her own shoulder. She turned to see that Steve had snaked his arm around her, pulling her closer to him.

He didn’t even turn to look at her, staring out at Max who was opening a new skateboard from Eleven. He acted like this was normal, that putting his arm around her was a daily occurrence; it definitely was not.

The more he did these things, the harder it was getting to hide her true feelings. She hadn’t really told anyone about them, even though Jonathan had teased her about it in the past. Trying to forget about it and move on, she slowly untangled herself from him, seeing Eleven open a set of Wonder Woman comics from her older step-brother.

It was the perfect excuse to move away, watching as Jonathan opened his present from her. He smiled as he saw the new rolls of film she had gotten him packaged with some photos of their group she had taken with a disposable camera.

He smiled at her, getting up from his chair with Nancy hugging her. “Thanks, y/n, I love it.”

“Of course,” she said softly as they pulled away.

Quickly a voice sounded from beside her. “Okay, y/n why don’t you open your present?”

She turned with a raised eyebrow to see Steve with his arms crossed staring at them. Sitting back down next to him she grabbed her present. “I take it you got me for secret santa?”

He shrugged as she began to unwrap the present. “Maybe.”

Finally able to get all the wrapping off, she gaped at the present before her. It was a first edition copy of Anne of Green Gables, her favorite book growing up. The binding was fragile as she turned it in her hands, opening the first page gently.

“Oh my god Steve!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. She could feel his palm flat against her back. “Thank you so much, this is amazing!”

As they pulled away she could see him try to hide his smile. “It was nothing,” he said, trying to play it off cool.

Smiling she turned back to the book, not even paying attention to Steve opening a can of Farrah Fawcett spray and a fanny pack that said #1 Mom on it from Mike - he really thought it was a clever gift.

For the rest of the party, the book was all she could think about. After finishing the tray of cookies and another round of hot chocolate, after she left the room to go start cleaning the mountain of dishes, she thought about how it must of costed Steve a fortune to get the book.

“Need help?” said a voice. She looked up to see that Steve had already walked over, helping to start drying the dishes she was washing.

She smiled at him as they washed and dried, the debate over what music to play echoing in from the other room. “Thanks again for the gift,” she said. “You really didn’t have to.”

“It was nothing,” he brushed off, picking up another plate. “You used to reread that book every year. I figured it was important to you.”

“It is…” she trailed off, thinking of all the sappy memories from her childhood she had with that book, ones she didn’t need to be remembering at this moment. Changing the subject, she said, “We’re going to have to set up all the mattresses soon.”

He chuckled. “I still can’t believe you’re letting everyone sleep over. There’s like thirteen of us.”

“Ten,” she corrected him. “But still, we never get to have a normal day. I wanted all of us together.”

Looking up from the glass he was drying, Steve gave her a smile, it slowly fading as she watched him notice something from behind her. She turned her head to see Jonathan walking up, grabbing another plate to clean.

“Am I missing the party here?” he asked.

“No, no uh…” Steve stumbled out, putting his glass down. “I’m just gonna go check on everyone…” He gave a weak smile towards her before walking out of the room.

“That was weird,” y/n said, turning back to her dish.

“Hmm I think Steve is jealous,” Jonathan said, nudging her.

“Jealous? Why would he be jealous?” she laughed.

“Because you and I have always been close. And because no matter how close you get we’ll always be closer.”

“That’s stupid, he has nothing to be jealous over. Plus, no offense Jonathan, he could beat you up in a second if he wanted to.”

“I know, I know,” he responded, grabbing another dish to clean. “I think if you just told him he wouldn’t be jealous anymore.”

“Told him what?”

“That you like him.”

y/n set down her dish and stared at him shocked. “I do not like him.”

“You sure do, I saw, even when we were in school together.”

y/n snorted. “In school, I was dating Frank Butcher. Why would I date someone if I liked Steve?”

Jonathan shrugged. “A distraction?”

“Very funny Jonathan, but as I said, I don’t like him."

“Keep telling yourself that y/l. I see the way you look at him.”

“And how do I look at him?”

Jonathan set down his plate too, staring back. “With love.”

She knew her best friend was observant but she also thought she was being discreet. “This is stupid. Come on, we can finish the dishes later.”

Pulling him by the arm, the two teens made their way back into the giant living room. As the kids laughed on the floor, fighting over what record to play, she spotted Steve grabbing his coat.

Her smile faded as she approached him. “Hey, where are you going?”

Looking up at her, he stuttered over his words. “I-I forgot I have to do something before my parents get back in town…I’m sorry I have to go.”

“Wait-” Before she could finish her sentence the door slammed behind him.

She stared in disbelief. Why would he just walk out like that? It was so unlike him. Was he jealous? No, that was stupid. If he was jealous, he would have made it known; Steve wasn’t one to mask his emotions well.

Turning back around, she felt everyone’s eyes on her. “What are you guys doing?” she asked, slightly annoyed. “Put something on.”

Dustin was the first to move, finally selecting a Christmas album. The music filled the room as y/n sat down next to Robin on the couch.

“What was that about?” Robin asked her.

“I have no idea…” she responded.

The two girls sat in silence, watching as Jonathan pulled Nancy to her feet to dance with him. She blushed as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“They are so annoyingly cute.”

“Tell me about it.”

Lucas was next to stand up, trying to pull Max up with him but she wouldn’t budge. He opted to just sit on the floor with her as they listened to the music. The rest of the kids huddled around them, setting up the new campaign that Mike got.

It was nice, all being together without some threat looming over them. The dancing and laughter, this was what growing up was supposed to feel like. She just wished that Steve had stayed to see it. She did not buy his excuse to leave for a second but could tell there was something going on with him. The boy had been through enough these past few years and y/n knew that letting him sort it out on his own was probably the best option.

The night went on and eventually, the kids helped bring down the mattresses. They all complained, wanting El to use her powers to levitate them down herself but y/n insisted some actual help would do them some good.

As the mattresses were set up for the younger kids and the guest rooms made up for the older kids, they all gathered back into the living room for a movie.

“I think we should watch Ghostbusters,” Dustin exclaimed.

Max groaned, “Dustin we watched that last week, no way.”

“Oh come on!”

“Max is right,” Mike agreed, “Let’s watch Empire Strikes Back instead.”

That launched a whole other debate that had all the kids divided. “Why don’t we just let y/n pick all right? It’s her house!” Will said. “y/n?” Too engrossed in her secret santa present, it took multiple tries to get her to listen.

“What? She finally asked being pulled out of the book. “I don’t care as long as everyone agrees.”

Robin furrowed her eyebrows next to her friend. “That must be some book you got there huh?” she asked.

“An expensive one,” Jonathan added, earning him a slap on the shoulder from Nancy.

“Is it really surprising?” Nancy asked. “Steve’s got money why not spend it?”

“Yeah,” Robing chimed in. “Remember when he fell in love with you, Nance? You told me how he bought you that ridiculously expensive necklace I mean-” The words hit her as she was saying them. “Nothing, I meant nothing, never mind.

y/n felt her brain falter for a moment. “Wait, Robin what did you just say?”

“Nothing! I said nothing!”

She leaned forward towards Robin. “Robin,” she persisted. “What did you just say?”

“I-I” Robin didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t supposed to say that, y/n wasn’t supposed to find out this way.

“Did you say he loves me?”

She looked around the room at all of her friends. They sat quietly, not wanting to make matters worse. It was Jonathan that finally confessed the truth.

“Yes, all right? He’s in love with you. But you clearly love him so what's the big deal?” he said.

“You knew?”

“We all knew,” Lucas said quietly. “He forced us not to say anything but if we’re being honest he’s pretty bad at hiding it.”

Max slapped his arm at that. “He wanted to tell you in his own time,” she said.

Jonathan jumped back in. “He told me that he was gonna tell you when he pulled your name for secret santa. I guess he thought you would understand with the book or he chickened out…”

The room was quiet as y/n tried to process what was happening. Why was she talking to them about this and not Steve himself? Without thinking, she stood up abruptly.

“I-I need to leave,” she said, grabbing the book Steve had gotten her and her keys that hung next to the front door.

“It’s your house!” Mike yelled out.

“I’ll be back later, Nancy’s in charge!” she yelled before slamming the door and running to her car.

Steve's house was only about ten minutes away which gave her less time that she had liked to think through it all. Everything about tonight somehow felt more clear with this new knowledge. She now realized how he wrapped her arm around her was definitely not in a friend's only kind of way. It probably made his heart flutter the same way it made hers.

Robin was right too, he did buy expensive things for the ones he loves. She remembered when Nancy showed her that necklace back when they first got together. Then, there was the kitchen “argument”if you could call it that. Maybe Jonathan was right, maybe he was jealous. Even if they did get together, both of them would know that she would always be closer to Jonathan and y/n understands why being reminded of that would make him upset.

But then again, it made her mad. Mad that she had been crushing on him forever only to find out he was doing the same. Why did he treat her differently than the other girls he liked? He would tell them right away, asking them to go on a date but with her? He stayed silent, only for her to find out through her other friends…

Finally, she pulled into his driveway, not even bothering to lock her car as she went up and knocked on his front door. The lights were on inside, and she could see a shadow step over the crack of light that shined from under the door.

Steve opened it, stepping back slightly when he saw her on the other side. “y/n what-” She shoved the book into his chest, not knowing what else to do. He took it, confused. “Did you not like it?”

“No,” she said, crossing her arms. “I like it, that’s the problem.” It was probably too aggressive but she didn’t care, he had to answer for what she had learned.

“I don’t understand-”

“How long have you known?” she interrupted him.

He tilted his head, still not getting what was going on. “Known what?”

“How long have you been in love with me?”

That hit him like a ton of bricks. His mouth fell open slightly as he staggered back until hitting the table that stood in the entrance of his home. y/n moved inside, shutting the door behind her before turning back to him.

“Who told you that?” he asked.

“How long, Steve?” she persisted.

His mouth was still open as he fiddled with the book in his hands. He looked down at it, running a finger along the spine. There was no point in denying now right?

“Since you saved me from that demogorgon in ‘83…” he confessed.

Now it was y/n who was shocked. That was way longer than she was expecting. “Three years, you’ve known for three years?”

“I’m sorry I should have told you but…” he trailed off, trying to take a deep breath to control his breathing. It was getting to him, keeping it a secret for all these years, too long for someone that didn't know.

“You were the first person that ever gave two shits about me,” he continued, “Yeah, I had Nancy but, it was clear from the start she knew I wouldn’t make it past high school graduation. You were the first person that believed in me and pushed me to be better. You make me laugh in ways I didn’t think possible just…how was I not supposed to fall in love with you?”

“You could have told me, Steve. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. Yeah, I developed feelings for you but what if you didn’t like me back? What if we dated and then broke up? I wouldn’t just be losing love, I would be losing my best friend…Jonathan try to get me to tell you when I pulled your name for secret santa but, I couldn’t go through with it.”

He looked up at y/n who was staring down at her feet, unable to meet his gaze. It hurt, knowing how much he screwed up but there was no turning back now.

“Are you mad I fell in love with you?” he asked.

y/n shook her head as she lifted her gaze. He could see her eyes begin to water as she held them back.

“No,” she finally said, “I’m not mad because…” she took a deep breath, “I’m mad because I have loved you since the moment I saw you in high school and neither of us had the fucking balls to admit it.”

He froze, not expecting those words to come out of her mouth. Standing up straight, he took a step towards her. “Y-you love me?” She nodded as he took another step, watching him set the book down on the table behind him. “But after we met- in high school. You went out with that guy Frank-”

“Frank was just a distraction,” she interrupted, taking a step towards him until he towered over her. She looked up to meet his eyes. “It’s always been you, Steve.”

She felt as his hands reached up to cup both of her cheeks. His eyes darted back and forth between hers and her lips. He took in a deep breath, one she could feel because of how close they were standing. She let her arms fall around his waist, pulling him closer to her.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said softly, their lips almost brushing.

y/n leaned forward more. “I won’t stop you,” she managed to say before crashing her lips to his.

Immediately, her grip on him tightened. He cupped her face with one hand as he dropped the other to wrap around her back. They held each other close as they deepened the kiss, moving their heads in rhythm with each other.

She felt him start to move as they kissed, pulling her up to him. y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, leaning her full weight into him as he carried her into the living room. They didn’t break the kiss once as she felt herself be lowered onto the couch.

They must have got the distance wrong because as she was lowered down, she felt that half her body wasn’t on anything. Before she knew it, Steve came crashing down on top of her before they both rolled off the couch and onto the floor.

She fell onto his chest before rolling over to lay next to him. Trying to catch her breath, she looked up at him. A smile broke out on both of their faces when they made eye contact. y/n couldn’t help but giggle as she saw Steve chuckle, pulling her into him.

She leaned into his side, putting a hand on his chest as they lay on the ground and laughed. Forcing herself to sit up slightly, she leaned forward and planted another kiss on his lips.

This time she was slowly, delicate as their mouths moved together. She could feel his hand reach up and tangle in her hair as she pulled away. He smiled up at her, unsure that all of this had really happened.

“Please come back to the party?” she asked softly.

He pretended to debate it for a moment. “Only if I can tell people you’re my girlfriend,” he retorted.

She smile, leaning back down so her lips once again hovered over his. “That sounds like a fair trade.”

They connected once more for a quick peck that couldn’t have lasted more than three seconds. “And, if I can sleep in your bed tonight.”

y/n laughed, burying her head into his chest. “One step at a time, Harrington.”

“All right, all right. It was worth a shot.”

1K notes · View notes

endthedream · 8 months

Text

a sweet melody

pairing: siren!haechan x human!reader (she/her)

summary: Insanity isn’t what she expected to receive when she joined her father and his crew on an expedition, full of men who think she isn’t capable of anything. But it’s all that she got after seeing nothing but endless water every single day. Maybe that’s why her mind started imagining a strange boy who finally shows her the appreciation she deserves. Maybe that’s why she ignores the way she can’t escape the trance he puts her in whenever he sings a melody for her. Or maybe everything is real, and the boy isn’t who he pretending to be.

words: 12.5k

story colour: green

some warnings:

it’s angst, the word “killing” gets mentioned a few times but nothing happens, heavy manipulation

masterlist of ‘nct dream as super natural creatures’

August 2nd, 1878

Day 25 on sea

I don’t remember the feeling of solid ground under my feet. Grass under my toes, touching stone walls or sleeping in a soft bed that isn’t rocking from the waves crashing against the ship.

I don’t remember the taste of air that isn’t filled with salt. The taste of anything other than fish.

I don’t remember not being nauseous every day, not fighting against boredom, not having to talk to myself in order to stay sane. Having to remind myself that I am me and this expedition isn’t pointless and could possibly make us rich until the day we die.

Father told me to write down my thoughts, he senses that I’m slowly losing my mind. But how can’t I? All I see, day and night, are endless expanses of water. No land in sight. We are miles and miles away from civilization. Alone with the sea and what lays beneath it. That thought can be frightening sometimes.

My brother called me a wimp, told me I should have just stayed at home and let the men handle it. I think he is the one who is a wimp. He’s scared of the power women can hold in a world that is overpowered by men. He doesn’t want me here, thinks I belong only at home like the other women in our city. But I don’t believe that even for one second. I have so much more potential than cooking and taking care of children. I’m an explorer, an adventurer, a researcher. I belong exactly here with my brother, my father and his crew.

I am so much more than all of them point me out to be and I know I can prove exactly that to them. I can prove that women can do all things men have been doing for years, maybe even better. I will prove it, even if it makes me go insane.

August 7th, 1878

Day 30 on sea

I miss my mother. I miss her comforting words, her warm arms and the smell of her perfume. Father misses her too. We talked last night while watching the waves under the moonlit sky. He told me he thinks she is watching over us, protecting us from unknown dangers. He told me that he thinks she is proud of us, especially me, for having the courage to explore the sea. I think he is right. Mother would have loved for us to do the things she always dreamt of doing. Exploring. She always wanted to know what lays beyond the sea, know the secrets behind it and write it all down.

Mother was the creative one in our family. She wrote poems, drew beautiful paintings and crafted useful things out of our waste. There was nothing she couldn’t do, no challenge she couldn’t face. I admired her for that, looked up to her and wanted to be like her. Father says that sometimes he sees a bit of her in me, a bit of her creativity leaking out of my aura, but most of the time I am like him. A big pighead who is way too nosy for their own good. But he also said that this trait will help me on our journey.

“We need people like you.”, he spoke as he looked into the sparkling reflection of the stars on the water. “People who are brave and people who are inquisitive. People who don’t stop when it gets too much and get driven by the passion of wanting to know what lays beneath the unknown. That’s why I want you here.”

“But why did you bring my brother as well? He is nothing like that.” My comment made him let out a quiet laugh, a sound I haven’t heard from him in a while.

“Because he can fight. We need people like that as well.”

Our talk was over after that. He went to sleep, and I stayed up, watching the stars in the dark night sky and thinking about his words. Does he really want me here or is he just being nice to me because I’m his daughter? The others on the ship are not shy to express their dislike for me. I’m not taking it to heart since they care more about my gender than my capabilities. But I care about my father’s opinion. I care what he thinks about me being on this ship with him and if he thinks that I should have stayed at home like everyone else is telling me.

I hope he didn’t lie to me. I hope that his words were sincere, and he actually wants me to be here. Because I think it would shatter me if he didn’t.

I figured I should talk more about my current mental state. Every day I try not to show how much it affects me that even though there are so many people on this ship, I’m still alone. No one wants to talk to me, no one cares about my opinion, and no one wants me here. I spend most of the day watching the ocean, listening to the waves and the birds stopping by. When I see something, an animal or even just seaweed, I write it down and draw a picture of it. It helps me a bit, I think, but I’m not quite sure.

Yesterday a boy, his name is Jisung, let me help him prepare a fish. It was the first time someone had spoken to me without throwing an insult at my head. I haven’t seen him much around the ship since he spends most of the time in the kitchen with his father. But he seemed nice enough, even though as soon as another crew member approached us, Jisung ran away from me, not wanting to be seen with the “intruder”. I wasn’t offended by it, at least I got to eat a nice fish for dinner.

But I’m wandering again. My mental state. I do think I’m getting a bit… well, crazy. But who isn’t? Everyone on this ship is going through the withdrawal of feeling solid ground under their toes and seeing anything other than salt water every single day.

I think we all are slowly losing it.

August 15th, 1878

Day 38 on sea

The air was nice today. It smelled fresher than before, kind of like we entered a new world overnight.

It just felt so clean.

Maybe that’s exactly what I needed, some fresh and clear air, something that removed the mess inside of me as well. Father said that fresh air always helps with an occupied mind. I guess his thesis has been proven right.

I should listen to him more.

He is old and keeps to himself most of the time, but when he actually does talk, it has an impact. Just yesterday two of the men on the boat accidently- in a drunken manor- knocked over two wooden boxes full of fish we haunted, leaving us with not much left. Father was furious, I could tell by the look on his face, but he kept his calm image. He went up to the two men and instead of screaming, he just stared at them for a few minutes. I think his eyes were what intimated them the most.

“You realize what you just did?”, he asked them, and I never heard his voice being so cold. They just nodded their heads, eyes widened like they were deer’s getting hunted by a wolf. “You realize what that means for the two of you?” Hesitation lingered in their demeanor. Clearly, they didn’t know what consequences followed their stupid mistake.

“Since you prevented us from having a week stock of fish, I’m going to do the same to you. That means limited access to food, no alcohol anymore and you are going to clean the boat from front to back. I want to see it spotless. Are we clear?” Again, their heads nodded faster than the wind blowing my hair away. They hurried off after being dismissed, leaving me standing there as father let out a long sigh.

It must be hard, having to be in charge of a bunch of grown men who act like children. And it must be hard seeing your own children having to face some of their own hardships as well. I’m not saying my brother is having a hard time on this ship, I’m saying in general. Someone filled with that much piled up anger, like my brother, must have some troubles they can’t communicate themselves.

It’s not like I have never tried. Talking to him, I mean. I did, plenty of times. But he never listens. And he never talks. I think it is the masculinity they force upon boys these days. It starts in school when they are just little fellows and continues all the way into adult hood. It teaches them not to cry, to hide their emotions and be strong.

I think that is stupid. I think that as human beings we were created to show our emotions. It’s our darn right to let ourselves feel everything freely without having to hide it.

But my brother is taking it seriously, says that the people in school would make fun of him if he’s showing weakness. Weakness. That is stupid. I think that hiding your emotions and building up this wrong image in which you hide behind a made-up strength, is what makes you weak.

I told him that and he just said: “And that’s why you’re a woman. You wouldn’t survive a minute being a man.”

And you wouldn’t survive a minute being a woman either. But I didn’t say that. I didn’t want to make him more upset, and I especially didn’t want to start a discussion about men and women with him. It is pointless, because no matter what I say, he will never see us as equals.

I wish I were closer to my brother. I wish he wouldn’t have to think about all this stupid stuff. And I wish I could live in a world where I could freely express myself without having to justify my every move.

I wish, I wish, I wish.

August 19th, 1878

Day 42 on sea

We saw dolphins today. They were swimming right beside our ship, jumping high up into the air and whistling at us. It was a magical moment, watching them happily swim, eager to interact with us. I even got to draw a picture of them. And for a moment I forgot that my mind is constantly spinning in a spiral. I just sat there, enjoying the short moment of peace, before it got destroyed.

Some of the men on the ship, clearly drunk, threw bottles at the dolphins, slurring insulting words at them. The dolphins swam away shortly after, but the bottles stayed where they threw them, in the ocean. I was so mad that I went up to one of the men, yelling some pretty mean words as well.

“Are you out of your mind, you drunk filthy piece of shit? Not only did you hurt poor helpless animals that were clearly eager to interact with us, but you also polluted the ocean with your stupid bottles of alcohol. Are you really that messed up in your head to think this was a good idea? I don’t even get why you are on this god forsaken ship. You are clearly not good for anything other than drinking your days away and only caring about yourselves. And you call yourself a man. You are nothing but a pathetic little boy, wanting everyone’s attention. You disgust me, you pig.”

I can’t remember much afterwards, only the stinging feeling against my cheek, a foot against my rip cage and someone yelling to stop. I woke up not long ago. The ship is quiet, so I assume it’s already in the middle of the night and everyone is sleeping, but I’m too scared to look. My body hurts, every time I move only a slight bit, a crushing pain curses through my bones.

When I close my eyes, everything is spinning, so I don’t close my eyes anymore.

I don’t regret what I said to that man. I don’t regret standing up to myself. I had to endure a worse treatment for a longer time and could handle it. It is not my fault that he couldn’t handle a bit of critique. All I hope is that this pain will go away soon. The pain inside and outside.

I’ve been thinking, maybe a bit too much. What if I change my way of thinking? What if instead of letting the ocean hurt me, I will let it heal me? What if instead of letting the loneliness consume me, I will let it lead me? Maybe all I have to do to get better is to change the way I approach this expedition.

And now that I have written it down, I will have to do it. My mother always said words only count when you write them on a piece of paper. In that way it is like a contract, unbreakable. It is like an oath you swear only to yourself, and those should be the most precious ones. She said you should always keep the promises you give to yourself, because after all, at the very end you will always have yourself to count on. Mother was a wise lady. A wise and confident woman, that I always looked up to. She was never afraid to speak her mind and stand up for her beliefs, I admired that side of her so much. And I know my dad also admired that.

Sometimes I forget that he lost his wife, I forget that he is still grieving. Because it looks so easy for him. It doesn’t look like he is compulsively taken of on a ship to “explore the unknown” just to get away from home and the recuring memories of the woman he loved so dearly. It looks like he created a team of the best- that’s arguable- men out there and took of to explore. He looks like a hero, not a broken man.

He hides everything so well. I wish he would have taught me how to do that.

August 20th, 1878

Day 43 on sea

Dad told me not to move too much. He thinks my rips are badly bruised and I need a few days, maybe even a few weeks to heal. We don’t have a qualified doctor on this ship, so I am just putting ice on my ribs and hope they will magically heal.

My brother even came to my room to ask me about my well-being. That was the last thing I expected to be quite honest with you. My brother and I have never had the best relationship. He was never a reliable soul, always easily influenced by others. He is a follower not a leader and that shows in the way he behaves towards others, especially towards me.

“Are you fine?”, he asked me, voice unusually soft. I could see it in his eyes, the pity that lies in them. It looked like he actually cares.

“Forgetting the circumstances, yes, I am fine.” He let out a long and deep breath, a hand stroking back a piece of hair that fell into his eyes. I should have asked him if I should cut his hair for him.

“Okay.”, he just answered, nodding his head before standing up again. “If you need anything, just call for me.” Without looking at me again, he left the room. All I could do after that was smile. It was the first encounter since we were kids that didn’t end up with me wishing I would never have to talk to him again. He may not know how to express what he is really feeling and is scared of voicing his own thoughts, but this small conversation showed me that he may not be all too bad.

August 25th, 1878

Day 48 on sea

I am going crazy. I sit on my bed every single day. I draw, I write, and I stare at the wall.

I can feel my thoughts circle around my brain, nothing makes sense. No one visited me in the past two days, and it makes the urge to get up even worse. I didn’t really have someone to talk to from the beginning, but at least I got to be around some living beings. I didn’t have to bear my own thoughts for such a long time. Now I’m not only alone, but I’m also lonely as well.

I had a nightmare last night. I dreamt about the ship sinking. It was absurd because the men drunk too much and their bellies got so bloated, it made the ship sink. But that wasn’t the frightening part. As I tried to swim for safety, my arms already hurting, I started hearing voices. Not just two, must have been a hundred of them. All of them whispering to me, but I couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell me. I kept swimming and swimming, far behind I saw hills. The voices didn’t stop. It felt like they were entering me, taking over every part of my body. My head felt like it was about to explode into a million pieces. They got louder and louder until I couldn’t take it anymore. I stopped swimming, letting myself sink. The water engulfed my whole body, entering my mouth and filling my lungs. The voices got quieter and quieter until there was only one left, loud and clear, telling me to “wake up”.

That’s when I opened my eyes, sweat dripping from my forehead and my breath uncontrollably fast. I never had a dream like that. I never woke up so disorientated. I wanted to tell someone about this dream, have someone explain to me what the meaning behind it is. I wanted to know if I’m really losing my mind.

August 27th, 1878

Day 50 on sea

I am losing my mind.

This can’t be real. I am writing this down to make sure I am wide awake and not dreaming.

I woke up from a noise. At first, I thought I was imagining it, because lately I’ve been imagining a lot of things. I wanted to go back to sleep, being exhausted from, well, doing absolutely nothing all day long, but then I heard it again.

It wasn’t just a noise. It was a melody, a very beautiful one. It sounded like the gateway to heaven, like it was sung by angels. And it made me feel drowsy.

I knew I needed to rest more, but something about this melody pulled me in. It made me forget the throbbing pain in my body and the events that happened days before. All it made me want to do was reach it, engrave it into my skin. It made me want to never hear anything else.

I was in a trance, no thoughts inside my head anymore.

So, I got up, walked out onto the deck of the ship to find out where this melody comes from. But when I reached the deck, I didn’t expect to see a boy sitting on the railing.

But it wasn’t an ordinary boy. Oh, no. Not like the ones I’ve seen in my town growing up. I can’t describe him in any other way than captivating. His jet-black hair softly swayed in the night wind, covering his eyes every few seconds. His cheeks adopted a soft rosy color from the coldness, contrasting the tan of his skin. And his eyes were almost as dark as the night sky.

I don’t know why I stared at him for such a long time, and I don’t know why he let me.

“You’re here.” Those were his first words. The first time I heard his voice. A voice that made time stop for a moment. I couldn’t hear the waves crashing against each other anymore, or the cracking of the old wood the ship was built with. I couldn’t even hear my heartbeat pumping against my chest. All I could hear was him. “I was waiting for you.”

“Who are you?” That was not what I wanted to ask him at that moment, but the sane part of my brain must have sensed that something wasn’t right. Something about the way my body reacted to this strange man was dubious.

“Haechan.”, he spoke with a soft voice, turning his body so that he fully faced me. A smirk was placed on his lips, only intensifying his tantalizing physique. “And you are?”

“Y/n.” My name came out in a mere whisper, fearing that my voice might have broken if I spoke any louder. I couldn’t stop staring at him, still having been sure that my mind was playing a trick on me or, well, still is.

For days no one has checked in on me, no one has talked to me more than five words. I’ve been on this ship for way too long seeing nothing but the endless nothingness of the sea. My mind has been plagued with recuring thoughts, never once having a quiet moment. Maybe this is the final sign. Maybe this is it. I am insane. So insane that I’m imagining a boy sitting on the rail of the ship just so that I have someone to talk to.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Reaching one hand out, the boy signaled me to come closer to him. Every part of my body longed to take his hand and sit on the rail with him, but doubts started floating my brain.

“What are you doing here? How did you get on this ship?” Haechan, as I learned his name, just chuckled, a low sound that was so different from his honey voice. He looked amused at my asking, almost like he was making fun of me.

“Why did you come out here, Y/n?” I remember frowning at him, clearly feeling upset that he chose to ignore my question and ask one of his own. I felt upset that this boy, which I probably made up in my mind, didn’t show any respect for me at all. He, just like the others, ignores what I have to say, and I didn’t want to get treated that way, not after what happened last time.

So, instead of answering him, I turned around, heading back to my bed. But before I could even take a step, the melody I heard earlier started again. All the thoughts that I had in my mind at that moment flew away and I was, yet again, caught in a trance. It was like I couldn’t escape, even if I wanted to.

“It’s you.”, I whispered, but he still heard me. I knew that because the melody got louder, clearer. I closed my eyes, letting his voice enter every part of my body. I let it fill me up and shut me down at the same time. I let it rearrange my mind and mend my wounds, but I also let it cut me open and bleed me dry. I gave myself into the sweet penetration of his honey laced voice and wanted nothing more than to make all his wishes and desires come true. I would have given him the world if it was possible. My whole body felt like it was floating on top of a cloud, high up in the sky and there was no way of ever coming down again. I was trapped.

“Come closer.”, he murmured, voice deeper and almost impending.

“No.”, I quivered, suddenly scared of ever opening my eyes again.

“Please, Y/n.”, he pleaded, and I could nearly hear the desperation in his voice. “Just please look at me.” And so, I did. He was not sitting on the rail anymore, he was standing right in front of me. A small smile on his lips and one hand stretched out to me. “Come closer please. I don’t want anything else from you.”

And as I was about to take the step towards him, give in to his demand and the growing need inside of me to grant all his wishes, I heard a voice behind me, calling out my name and breaking the trance I was in.

“Y/n?”

Turning around, I saw my brother standing further away from me, dressed in his nightly gown. “What are you doing out of your bed? You should rest, your body isn’t fully healed yet.”

“I was just talking to…” But when I looked for Haechan again, no one was standing there anymore. It was like I was alone all along. “I don’t know what I was doing.”

Suddenly I felt all the pain rush back into my body, my bones burning with fire, and I let out a loud groan as I fell to my knees.

“Y/n.” My brother rushed towards me, helping me up with his arms around me. “For someone who always seems so smart, you really aren’t the brightest.” I couldn’t even laugh at his words, my mind was too focused on the pain all over my body.

“You must have been sleep walking if you can’t remember what you were doing up there.” My brother said as he laid me back down into my bed and reached into a bucket of water to put a wet rag on my forehead. “Sleep now, okay? I will stop by in the morning again and check on you.” All I could do was nod my head at him, exhaustion consuming my body. He looked at me one last time before he left my room again.

And now I’m sitting here, writing in my foolish dairy and reminiscing about the strange boy I met. I must have imagined him. How could anyone come up onto the ship? I didn’t see another boat, nor did any other member of the crew. And the possibility of someone appearing out of the blue is also not likely.

The only possibility that is left is that I am losing my mind. That I imagined all of it out of pure loneliness and frustration. This expedition should have been educational for me. It should have proven to all the men that I, as a woman, can do what they can do. That I can be an explorer, a brave one even, and that I have the ability to find something new. That is why we started this journey, because we wanted to discover unknown things.

But all I am doing now is proving everyone exactly what they think of me, that I am small and weak. That I am not an explorer and that I should have just stayed at home. That I am not brave and definitely not smart. I proved to them that I am fragile and well, mental.

But no one has to know about it. No one has to know what happens in my head or the things I imagine. No one has to know I am practically insane and desperate. I could just simply fake it. Isn’t that what everyone does? Faking confidence.

Maybe if I fake it long enough and convince everyone that what they are saying and thinking about me is wrong, I might convince myself as well. Maybe I can convince my brain I’m fine while pretending to be.

So, from now on, everything’s okay. I am not insane, and I certainly am not imagining weird things.

I am okay.

Everything is okay.

August 29th, 1987

Day 52 on sea

Everything is not okay.

Yesterday the boy didn’t show up again. I wasn’t exactly looking for him, since my father spent most of the night in my room making sure I wouldn’t ‘sleep-walk’ again, but I can’t lie and say I wasn’t disappointed not to hear his beautiful melody again.

I asked my dad if there is a word for the feeling of craving for someone, for feeling like the person took a part of you with them when they left and you long to be reunited with them. When all your thoughts are consumed with them, and your body is itching to be in the mere presence of that person. But also fearing the actual return of that person and the power they hold over you and your emotions. He told me it is called “withdrawal”.

“It is mostly referred to drugs such as alcohol.”, he explained to me as he tried to brush out the knots in my hair. “But I think it can be applied to humans as well. You know, sometimes we long for people we can’t have or people that aren’t good for us. We see the signs, but we ignore them. We give in to the sweet yearning and get hurt in the process. But if we don’t give in and the yearning grows stronger, we crave it even more. We think about the person every day, imagine their scent, their eyes, their voice. We imagine them being in a room with us, talking and laughing with us. We do the things that are most painful to us just to have what we long for, even if we know it’s not good for us. And it hurts, physically and emotionally.”

I turned around to look at him, inspect his face and read what he was feeling when he said those things. “It sounds like you have experience with that feeling.” My father just shrugged and at that moment he looked older. He looked like an old man who has been through too much in his life. A man who deserves a break.

“I’ve been around much longer than you, dear. There were mistakes made and hearts torn, but it all worked out at the end.”

“How?”, I ask, curious as to how such a sad feeling still turned into something good.

“Because I got you, and your brother. That’s my happy ending.” I wanted to cry. I wanted to storm into his arms and never let him go. But I didn’t do any of those things. I just smiled at him, nodded my head and hoped that was enough for him. Because while his words filled my heart to the brim with love, my body still ached, not from the pain but for the boy I only met once in my life.

That’s why I tried to ignore the melody a few hours ago when it started again. Father went back to his bed a few minutes before, wanting to get some well-deserved sleep, leaving me alone in my room. I, as well, wanted to get some rest, but then I heard it. It was loud and clear, and more beautiful than I had remembered it to be. Almost immediately I felt my whole mind switch, forgetting the conversation I had had with my father. All that was in my head was him, Haechan.

I wanted to see him, no, I needed to see him. I felt lost without him, so empty and incomplete. I felt like my world wasn’t spinning correctly, time was going backwards, and the stars were falling out of the sky. Nothing felt right anymore. Not until I was with him.

I reached my door, but before I could open it something woke me up. Not from a dream, but from a trance. A smell, a very familiar one. It took up all my senses and brought me back to reality.

I realized what I was about to do and quickly sat back down on my bed, not daring to even set a foot on the floor anymore. It was frightening, what I felt just then. The longing I felt, just from one simple melody. I don’t know this boy, why would I feel so strongly about him? Why does he have so much power over my emotions?

His melody got louder. For a moment my head felt like it was exploding. He sounded sad, sorrowful. It broke my heart into pieces hearing him so vulnerable, longing for me the same way I was longing for him. But I didn’t give in. A part of me, I don’t know which one, knew it was wrong to see him again. So, I stayed on my bed, legs tightly pressed against my chest and my hands on my ears, trying to cover his despairing voice.

10 minutes ago, it stopped. It just went away, like it was never there in the first place. Curiosity almost got the best of me and wanted to check if he really left, but I was too scared, I still am.

I don’t know what he is doing to be, why he is here and why he is targeting me. But I know that whatever he is doing, it can’t be with good intentions. A person that makes another person feel such outrageous things, can’t be here for anything good.

Maybe it shouldn’t matter so much. Because, after all, I made him up. He isn’t real so whatever he is doing isn’t going to hurt me. I think my mind is reflecting this pain on me to make sense of why it’s slowly decapitating. It’s trying to distract me from the actual damage in my brain.

At least that is the only logical answer to all of this. Because anything other would be, well, crazy and I’m not crazy. I might lose my mind, but I am not crazy.

August 30th, 1878

Day 53 on sea

Maybe I am a bit crazy, and reckless, and irresponsible and plain stupid.

“You left me standing here for a long time yesterday. I missed you, darling.” But I couldn’t help myself but visibly relaxing as I heard his voice again.

It was all I could think about all day long. Him and his melody. I wanted to feel it again. Feel it in my veins, feel it shutting out all the thoughts in my head. I just wanted this bothering craving to go away. I think it got so bad that even Jisung, someone who barely talks to me, noticed it.

“Are you okay? Don’t you like the food?”, he asked as he watched me stare at the food in front of me.

“Oh, sorry. It’s not the food, don’t worry. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” I gave him a little smile, grabbing a fork and shoving some food in my mouth.

“Is there a reason behind it? I hope it wasn’t me.” Jisung looked a bit guilty as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I spent the whole night cooking because I also couldn’t sleep. I hope I wasn’t too loud and kept you awake.”

“Oh, so that was what I smelled yesterday.” Internally, I couldn’t help but to be grateful for the boy sitting in front of me. After all, was he the reason why I didn’t give in to see Haechan. But I couldn’t tell him that. I was already glad someone decided to speak to me, I didn’t want to ruin it by my insanity. “But no, that was not what kept me up. I mean I smelled it, but I just had too much going on inside my mind to rest.”

The boy just nodded his head, shoving a fork full of food in his mouth. “Care to share some of your thoughts?”, he says with his mouth still full of food. He looked like a child in that moment, with his eyes wide and his mouth dirty with crumps.

“Just thinking a lot more about my mother lately.”, I told him, only half lying. Mother has been on my mind a lot lately, but that obviously wasn’t the reason why I couldn’t sleep. “I miss her. I mean I always miss her, but being so far away from home just makes me miss her more. You know, I see her everywhere. In the books I read, the words I write. I see her in the ocean, feel her in the air and smell her in every scent. It’s bizarre.”

“No, it’s not.”, Jisung disagreed, putting his fork down and propping his elbow up on the table to lean his face on his hand. “I miss my mother too. I mean, she isn’t dead, but her and my father are no longer together. She left with my sister, my father kept me, and I haven’t seen her in three years. I miss her too sometimes. But I think I miss the things she did for me more than I miss her. When I was a child, I always had trouble falling asleep so she would always tell me a bedtime story. I think that is why some nights I can’t seem to fall asleep.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Jisung. Next time you have trouble sleeping just get me. I can also tell you bedtime stories.”

He nodded yet again, showing me another one of his smiles. “Thank you, Y/n. And you know what? I think you are really brave. I wanted to say that to you earlier, but I never had the guts to actually do. I think that we can all be grateful that someone like you joined this expedition. We really need more smart crewmates on this ship.”

But I don’t think I am that smart anymore. I don’t think I even deserve to be called smart anymore. Because every single thing about the decisions I make is anything other than smart. And as I looked into the deep brown eyes of the boy in front of me, that only got confirmed.

“No answer? No ‘I missed you too’?” His voice had an alluring tone, soothing all the wounds inside me and doing things to my body I am too embarrassed to admit. “What a shame, sweet girl. I was pretty sure I could sense your longing for me yesterday. Maybe I was wrong.”

I didn’t know what to answer. And I honestly am glad I didn’t, positive that my voice would have come out in nothing but a pathetic whisper. Haechan was walking closer to me again, reaching his hand out again to hover over the skin of my arm but never touching me.

“Can you feel that?”, he whispers, eyes never leaving mine. “Can you feel the goosebumps slowly forming on your skin, the shiver down your spin?” He waited for me to answer him, but all I could do was nod. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Yes.” I answered him, voice cracking with that one simple word. “Yes, I can feel that.”

“Good. That is exactly what I want you to feel.” He took a few steps back again, so he was leaning against the railing. “Why did you decide to come here tonight? Couldn’t get enough of me?”

I just shrugged my shoulders, not really knowing myself what the actual reason behind me coming to see him again was. “Why do you keep calling for me?”

“Calling for you? How exactly am I calling for you?” Cocking his head to the side, still wearing a smirk on his lips. But I don’t want to get too detailed about his face, still feeling a bit embarrassed of the things I felt in that moment.

“The melody your singing, it’s for me. You are calling me with your melody.” A chuckle left his lips, melodic like his voice.

“How can you be so sure of that? What if I just like to sing pretty melodies?” His question sounded so innocent and for a moment I was uncertain about my statement, fearing I might have misinterpreted everything. But I knew what I was feeling. I knew that his melody was meant to be for me and no one else. I know it might sound crazy, but the thought of him singing this melody, my melody, for someone else felt unsettling.

“Because if you sung it for someone else, they would stand here instead of me. No one else is responding to your melody, only me, so it must be for me.” For a few seconds there was nothing but silence around us. Haechan wasn’t saying a thing, seeming like he was thinking about his next words. And I didn’t say anything, fearing that if I might, he would disappear again.

“You’re right.”, he finally spoke up. “It is for you.”

“But why? Why do you sing this melody for me?”

“Because I wanted to meet you, Y/n. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I got to have you. I got to be with you. I craved nothing more than to talk to you, to simply be blessed to be in the mere presence of you. I am longing for you, the same way you are longing for me, my love.” I couldn’t believe what he was saying to me. His words filled up my heart, and I started feeling lightheaded.

He was craving for me. He wanted to meet me. Everything that I am feeling towards him, as strange as those emotions are, he is feeling for me as well. His words were the most beautiful, heart wrenching thing I have ever heard in my inter life. I felt lucky to be seen this way, to be wanted this way, never actually having had someone tell me that before.

He really went all this way, just to meet me. Singing this melody, coming up this ship. But isn’t it a bit strange as well? I remembered not seeing another ship anywhere nearby. Where did he come from? How did he see me? Questions started filling my mind again, shaking me awake.

“What did you mean when you said you wanted to meet me from the first time you saw me? When did you see me?” I could see his body tensing up. Maybe he wasn’t expecting such a question.

“I can answer your question, but first you have to come with me. Please, Y/n. I will tell you everything, just please come with me. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore.”

“Haechan.” I looked at his hand, which was reaching for me again, motioning me to take it in mind. “Where do you want to take me? I mean there is no other ship anywhere near.”

“Y/n, just trust me, okay? Come with me and I will make the thoughts in your head disappear. I will make everything heal for you.” His hands hovered over my arms again, almost as if he couldn’t touch me. I wanted him to. I wanted him to touch me so badly. But I could see that something in his eyes had changed. They were darker, more desperate and demanding, and I knew it was my time to leave.

“I can’t.”, I told him, taking a few steps back. “I have to get up early tomorrow.” And with that I left, not once looking back as I walked back into my room.

I don’t know if what I did was right, or if I upset him with my behavior.

All I hope for is that he isn’t mad at me and will forgive me when he comes back. If he comes back.

August 31st, 1878

Day 54 on sea

He did in fact come back.

“Missed me?” There was something more gentle in the way he was talking to me today. Something more reserved.

“What if I did?” That made him smile, not smirk like he normally does. Haechan showed me a bright honest smile. And all I could think about was that he never looked more ethereal than in that moment.

“Then I will be highly pleased, my love. You know why?” I shook my head as a no, waiting for him to continue his sentence. “Because I missed you too?”

“You did?”

“Of course, I did. You were all I could think about all day long, pretty girl.” He stayed a bit further away from me too today and I wondered why. I asked myself if he didn’t want to be close to me again or if he felt rejected after what happened yesterday. “I couldn’t stop thinking about your sweet smile, your beautiful eyes and your lovely voice. I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

“Why don’t you touch me?”, I said out of the blue, catching not only myself, but him off guard as well. “You never touch me. You only hover your hands above my skin. Why?”

He smiled again, sweet and kind. “Because if I touch you once, I will never be able to stop again.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” He only shook his head, turning around to face the stars instead of me. But I didn’t want him to look away, I wanted him to look at me, because when he does look at me, I can feel again.

“I am sorry about yesterday, you know? I am sorry I was too intrusive, I let myself get caught up in my emotions.” I had to process his words, that being the last thing I thought would come out of his mouth. Never once had a men apologized to me for anything. I am so used to getting treated like nothing and it being normal in a society like the one I grew up with. Never once has anyone cared so much about me to consider my emotions and apologize for a mistake.

“Thank you.”, I just whispered, trying to swallow the tears. “That means a lot to me.” I decided to join him at the rail, watch the stars with him for a little while.

“Do you know that I think you are not real? I think I am imagining you, because for the past weeks I have been slowly losing my mind. Seeing the same things every day, not talking to anyone and having to deal with all those thoughts in my head. I think I started imagining you so I could just stop time for a while.”

“But I am real.”, he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I am real. You are not insane, and you are definitely not imagining me. I can prove that to you. Just take my hand and you will see.”

“Why does that feel like a trap?”, I asked him, watching his face, trying to read his emotions. But it stayed the same. His smile didn’t butch for a second and his eyes still held the same gentleness.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Y/n. There is no trap. I am just offering you evidence to your lingering questions about your own sanity. I am just trying to be nice to you, but if you don’t appreciate that.”

“No, no I do. I am grateful for your kindness. You just sounded so demanding, and it made me doubtful.”

“I am so sorry, my sweet girl. It was never my intention to make you doubt me. That will never happen again, okay? All I want is the best for you. Nothing more.” I just nodded, eyes facing the wooden floor of the ship. “I am going to tell you the story of why I so desperately wanted to talk to you, since I didn’t yesterday. Maybe that will cheer you up a bit again.”

“I wanted to talk to you because I was mesmerized by you. Because there are not a lot of people out there like you. People so willing to learn and to explore. I never met a woman like you, someone so strong minded and independent. I loved how you never let anyone talk bad to you and I love how despite the negative things the men on this ship say about you, you still stay here. You prove to them every day that you are capable of being on such an expedition and that you are more qualified than they could ever be. And I just knew I had to talk to you, I had to have you in my life.”

And it was like he knew what I needed to hear. Like he knew my deepest darkest thoughts and all the things I was craving to ever be told by someone. It was like he spoke right into my soul and built up this newfound strength. I felt empowered, I felt loved. But yet again, I was also wondering how he could know all those things about me.

“Why do you know all that, Haechan?”

“I told you already, Y/n. I was longing for you.” It didn’t make sense. His answer didn’t make any sense. Was he avoiding my question? Or maybe he understood the question wrong, thinking this was an answer that would satisfy me. But it didn’t.

“That doesn’t answer my question. How can you possibly know about all those? We just met.”

I could hear a sigh leaving his lips, the long and frustrated kind. I am familiar with those, having heard them a thousand times from my father and brother. And I asked myself if I, yet again, upset him with my question. If I should have just kept quiet and appreciated his kind words and moved on from the topic.

“And yet again you don’t appreciate my kindness. All I do is be nice to you, proving to you that I am real and trustworthy, and you still doubt me. Don’t you know how much that hurts me? Do you?” His voice rose visibly, nostrils flaring and eyes growing wider. Haechan wasn’t looking like himself at that moment. He almost looked inhumane.

“I am sorry, Haechan. Please don’t say that. I do trust you. Please, I’m sorry.”, I started begging him, reaching for his hand, which he pulled away. “Please.” Tears filled my eyes and my whole body started hurting again, like it was slowly breaking apart from the inside out.

“You hurt me, Y/n. I don’t think your apology can fix this.”

And this time it was him walking away, disappearing into the darkness, and leaving me standing at the same spot, mourning for him like I had just lost a person to death.

September 1st, 1878

Day 55 on sea

I could see the surprise on his face when he saw me standing there, waiting for him this time, not needing his melody to be called. But the look of surprise quickly faded away and a smirk replaced it instead.

“I see you don’t even need my melody anymore.” It almost sounded cocky the way he said it.

“I wanted to be here first so I could apologize to you.”, I spoke the words with so much sincerity, wanting him to believe me and see that I genuinely mean the apology. “I am really sorry for hurting your feelings yesterday. It was never my intention. All I want to do is make you happy, Haechan, and I am so sorry that I failed to do so.”

He looked at me for a few seconds, brows raised, before he shrugged his shoulders. “What will you do if I don’t accept your apology?”

I didn’t hesitate when I spoke my next words. “I will beg for your forgiveness. I will beg until you accept my apology. I will do anything you want me to.”

“Anything I want you to?”, he asked, and I just nodded my head at him, desperation fulling my actions and probably written all over my face. “I will hold onto that one.”

“Does that mean you forgive me?” Haechan shrugged again, taking a few steps forward into my direction. Looking at him in that moment, I didn’t think he looked hurt. Normally people have this look on their face when their feelings got hurt, quivering lips, wide and sad eyes, body folding in on itself. But Haechans eyes were almost narrowed, and he was towering over me, almost like he was looking down at me. My father once told me people do that to prove their dominance over the other person, but I don’t think that was what Haechan wanted to do in that moment. Or was it?

Maybe Haechan is just like my brother, a person who has to hide their true feelings behind a stone-cold face to demonstrate strength. Or maybe he just didn’t want me to see him hurt by me to make me feel less guilty. Because I was and still am feeling bad for making him feel that way yesterday. I still regret my words and wish I would have just shut my mouth. I should do that more often, shutting my mouth in some situations. It would have saved me from a lot of things.

“I’m still thinking about it. Maybe I will tell you my answer at the end of the night.” That gave me some hope. Even though he didn’t yet accept my apology, he still wanted to spend time with me and that was more than enough for me.

“I saw you talking to that Jisung guy again today.” Haechan was still towering over me, hands in the pockets of his pants and eyes narrowing in on my face. “What is so intriguing about him that you talk so much to him?”

“Did you watch me?”, I asked him, shock lacing my voice. Jisung and I only talked in the kitchen today. I was hungry since I overslept in the morning and didn’t have breakfast. When I walked into the kitchen to grab myself something, Jisung was standing there, preparing the fish for dinner. We spent some time together, me eating my food and him cooking more. There wasn’t a lot of conversation, we just basked in the presence of each other.

“I asked you a question first.”, Haechan voice got lower again. I could only describe it as sinister. There was an undertone in that one small sentence, something that told me I should not say the wrong thing. So, I took a moment to gather my thoughts, fight through the mess in my head and find an answer that will satisfy him.

“He isn’t interesting to me.”, I tell him, keeping my voice clear and loud. “He is just the only person that talks to me when you aren’t here. There is nothing more to it.”

“It didn’t look like that earlier, sweetheart. I thought the two of you looked very cozy in that kitchen, sneaking glances at each other.” He let out a sound similar to a ‘tsk’ and shook his head in a mocking manner. “Am I not enough for you anymore? Do you go around and search for other men when I’m not around? Are you so desperate and needy for attention?”

“No.”, I whispered, feeling even the small last bit of confidence leaving my body. Haechan has a way of making me feel weaker and weaker, draining every last thought out of my head and making my body his. “No, Haechan.”

I felt my legs give him, sinking to my knees. My body felt so heavy but at the same time so light. Haechan kneeled down in front of me, lowering his head so he was looking right into my eyes. “You can’t talk to other men, Y/n. You are mine only, do you understand?” All I could do was nod my head at him, but that didn’t satisfy him. “You belong to me, right, my sweet girl? I need you to say it.”

“I belong to you.”, I mumbled, not having the strength to fully open my mouth.

“That is right. You belong to me, your body belongs to me and even your mind belongs to me. You are all mine, pretty princess.” He took up all my senses. I could only see him, smell him, hear him, feel him everywhere. Like only he excited in this world and no one else.

Haechan leaned forward, his lips brushing the skin of my ear. I could feel his warm breath on my skin, and it sent shivers down my back. “Now come with me, darling. Take my hand and come with me. I will make sure you remember me forever.”

I reached for his hand, fingers brushing against each other, but before I could close them around his, a bright light shined a bit further away from us. Everything happened so fast after that. I heard footsteps, a voice and suddenly I felt empty. Haechan was no longer kneeling in front of me and right as I wanted to look for him, my body gave in, and I fainted onto the cold wooden floor.

I don’t know how I got into my bed, and I don’t know who brought me into my bed. All I know is that the moment I woke up again I craved Haechan even more than I did before and I know that the next time he asks me to come with him, I will do so, without any hesitation.

September 2nd, 1878

Day 56 on sea

Everything changed today. Everything I thought I knew, everything I thought I felt. A lie.

I can’t stop crying. My tears are flowing like an endless waterfall. I’m a mess, a disaster. How could I let this all happen? I thought I was smarter than this. I thought I was stronger than this. But I was blinded. I was corrupted, manipulated, used.

I feel dirty, like I haven’t washed in weeks. But I just did. I spent a long time trying to scrub away the dirt I felt, trying to scrub away the shame I felt. I put everyone, especially me, in danger with my reckless behavior, with my blindness, with my incompetence. I am a failure.

I spent the whole day ignoring everyone around me, not even looking at anyone that passed me by. I wanted to desperately prove to Haechan that I only want him and no one else, that everyone on this ship doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is him. I was hoping he was watching me again, being proud of me.

But unfortunately, there was one person I couldn’t avoid even if I tried to.

“You wanted to speak to me, father.”, I said as I entered my father’s office room. I have never been in that room, not once over all these weeks. The room was scattered in books, empty bottles and maps of the sea. I always imagined the room to be neater, at least that was what my father always seemed to be. But my mother told me once that your room reflects the mental state you were in. Maybe my father was also struggling with his sanity.

“Yes.”, he answered me, looking up from his book. “I wanted to see how you are feeling, after your little incident yesterday.”

“I’m feeling fine, father. Must have been me sleep walking again. There is nothing to worry about.”

He just hummed, his face showing the uncertainty he felt because of my words. My father mustered me for a few seconds, waiting for even a little muscle to twitch in my face to show him if I was lying. But I kept a straight face, looking him right into the eyes. “I am thrilled to hear that. And we will find a way to fix your nightly problem.”

Father went back to reading in his book, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, the curious part of me wondered what he was so engrossed in. I always loved the books my father reads, knowing that they are filled with new knowledge. “What are you reading?”

He held up the book, showing me the cover. “Knowledge about the mysteries of the ocean.”, I read out loud, furrowing my eyebrows at the title. What an odd book, I have never heard about that. “What mysteries are listed in the book?”

“Oh, just some fisher men tales. Mermaids, kraken, leviathan, sirens. All those tales which warn everyone on ships about the dangers of the sea.”

“Sirens? I have never heard of them. What are they?” My father turned his book around, showing me the page, he was just reading. On it was a drawn picture of what looked to be a half bird, half fish creature. My stomach started to turn, the longer I looked at it, frightened by its appearance.

“This book says that sirens are mythical creatures, half bird, half fish. Through their angelic singing they lure in fishermen to kill them. It is said that their voice lures them in, but their face is what makes the fishermen stay.”

“Their face?”, I asked, not believing that for a second.

“They put you in a trance with their voice and make you see whoever you most desire. They are insidious, malicious creatures, feared by everyone who ever entered the ocean. They are dangerous, Y/n.” He looked me in the eyes, as if he knew something I didn’t. As if he wanted to tell me more with the last sentence.

“Do you really believe they exist? To me that just sounds like fishermen making up excuses as to why they didn’t bring any fish home.”

My father let out a long sigh, head shaking. He turned the book back to him and stared at the picture for a few more seconds, before closing the book again. “You could be right, Y/n. I mean you have always been the realistic one in this family. But as long as there is no proof that they don’t exist, I will have to believe those tales. It’s better to believe and find out they don’t exist, than to not believe and find out they do exist.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about his words after I left his office. They kept spinning around my head, swirling and clashing against other thoughts. And they were connecting. My thoughts were connecting together, and suddenly there was only one thought left. One person in my mind, and not for the reasons he had been in my mind for the past few days.

But I didn’t want to admit that. Not even to myself. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t true. Those useless tales were nothing but fiction, made up stories to save the fishermen from embarrassment and disappointment. Nothing more and nothing less.

Because I knew Haechan. I knew he wasn’t capable of something like that. He wasn’t a creature designed to prey on innocent people. Or was he?

I couldn’t help but smile as I heard the familiar melody, as I felt it sink deep under my skin and erase everything inside of me. I loved the pain it inflicted on my heart, the way the melody ripped me apart into a million pieces. I loved how for the first few seconds everything stopped being important to me. Breathing, feeling, living. Nothing felt important for a few seconds. Nothing but him.

Haechan leant against the rail of the ship, hands in his trousers and a smirk on his lips. It almost felt like a déjà-vu. I remembered how I felt when I first saw him. Feelings that were once so innocent and unfamiliar are now unconditional and fierce. “My pretty girl.”, he whispered, and I felt the weight on my shoulders lift. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”, I asked, taking a few steps closer to him. I was craving his closeness, his touch. I needed him to touch me, anywhere. I didn’t mind where.

“Ready to come with me.” My head was clouded, brainwashed by his beautiful voice. But wasn’t that exactly what my father told me, what he warned me about. “I can see your doubt in me, sweetheart. What is it that is plaguing your beautiful mind?”

“Do you plan on killing me?” I don’t know why I asked him that question. I don’t know how I got the strength to break out of the haze, even just a little bit.

“Killing you? Why would I kill you?” His eyes darkened and I could see his body language changing. I could see all of him changing. Haechan let out a chuckle before walking into my direction, stopping when he was right behind me. Brushing my hair back, never once touching me, as he leant down to whisper into my ear.

“I really wanted to kill you at first, my sweet girl. I wanted nothing else but to rip you apart.” My body shut down, letting me fall weakly to my knees just like the day before. I couldn’t keep my eyes open for more than five seconds. Haechan kneeled down in front of me, yet again and placed his hand on my cheek. Finally, I could feel him. I could feel the one thing I craved most, his touch. But it didn’t feel how I imagined it to. Instead of lifting me up and making me basked in comfort, it made me flinch. His touch made me want to never see the light of day ever again. “But how could I kill such a beautiful thing? You are my precious girl, aren’t you? So sweet and special.”

I wanted to run, get away from him. I wanted to do anything but to stay with him, but my body didn’t let me. My body stayed down on the ground, heavy and useless. “Does it hurt, love? Does my touch and my words hurt you?” He didn’t need an answer because he knew. He knew how every bone in my body felt like it was on fire as soon as he muttered those words. He knew all I wanted was to make this growing pain stop. “Just come with me. I will make the pain stop.”

When I looked up at him, I saw only a glimpse of him. His skin was pale blue, scales all over it, and his teeth were sharp and long. This wasn’t the boy I met a few nights ago, the boy who made me feel like I was floating on the clouds and the boy who gave me a reason to live. This was a creature, a monster. A siren.

“Go away.”, I croaked out with the last strength I had left in my body.

“Oh no, you poor thing. Don’t be like that.” Not even his voice sounded like the sweet melody I once heard. It didn’t give me sweet pleasure anymore, it only gave me pain. “You love me, or have you forgotten? Have you forgotten all the feelings I inflicted on you? Have you forgotten how good you felt when you were with me? I can make that come back. You just have to come with me.”

“Go to hell.” I didn’t know that this simple sentence could mean the end of my life because the next thing I felt was a sharpness going through my body. And I knew this would be it. This would be the last few seconds before I was gone.

“Y/n!”, I heard someone shout, loud and piercing. I opened my eyes, only to have my vision be blurry. I tried to move, look who that voice belonged to and if I was imagining it again. “Go away and never come back, or I will have you killed and each and everyone of you creatures on this planet.”

I took a hurtful breath and it felt as if my lungs were filled with broken pieces of glass. My eyes tried to stay open, but I didn’t have the strength. “No, Y/n. Stay awake. Please don’t leave me.”

Whiteness surrounded me, filling me up and taking me in. Silence. I heard nothing more than silence. I tried looking around, kicking and fighting as I was trapped in nothing but endless vastness. Far away from me I could see something, or someone waiting for me. I tried to walk towards it, reaching my arms out to grab it, but I never came close.

“It’s not your time yet, Y/n.” And before I could question those words, my eyes opened.

It took me a few seconds to regain my vision, seeing the familiar walls of my room. As I remembered just what had happened, I felt panic filling my body, my breaths coming out faster than normal and my mind spiraling in wild circles.

“It’s okay, Y/n.”, I heard the voice of my father first before I felt his arms around my body, pulling me tightly into him. “Your safe. Nothing can hurt you anymore.”

I looked up at him with wide eyes and my mouth agape. I felt like a little kid again, crying in the arms of my father after having a bad dream. Just that this wasn’t a dream. This is reality.

“It’s okay. We are on our way back home. That creature will never find you again, we made sure of that, okay?” My father held me with so much delicacy, fearing he might break me. “You’re safe. I won’t let anyone, or anything hurt you again.”

And I believed him. There in the arms of my father I believed his words. So, I closed my eyes, let the sleep consume me and hoped that this promise would be one he could keep.

September 10th, 1878

Day 64 on sea

I let the salt air take away all the scars of the past weeks as I watched the soft waves flow under the setting sun. This was the first time in eight days that I had the courage to leave my room. I couldn’t face the place where everything happened. The place where I almost lost myself.

I closed my eyes and imagined the soft grass under my toes, the chirping birds in my ear and the blinding sunlight in my eyes. I imagined biting into a sweet apple, feeling the fresh morning air on my skin and smiling at the veracity of the moment.

“Daydreaming again?”, I heard a voice in front of me, making an actual smile appear on my lips. A smile I haven’t let myself show in a long time.

“What brings you out here? Shouldn’t you be in your bed, sleeping like everyone else is?” Jisung just shrugged his shoulders, his hair softly swaying in the wind.

He showed me a sweet smile, sitting down beside me and taking one of my hands in his. “I am not going to ask you how are doing, since everyone else does that every day.” I nodded at him, grateful for not hearing the repeating question out of his mouth as well. “But I am going to ask you if you still feel the withdrawal, you told me about.”

My eyes filled with tears again and I tried my best to swallow them down. “Yes.”, I mumbled, looking down, too ashamed to let him see me this way. To let him see me so weak and pathetic. “Yes, I still feel it, every day. I long for him, and I know it isn’t right. He isn’t who he showed me to be. I know I was blinded by a trance. I was blinded by need. I know what I am feeling isn’t right and that he wasn’t right. But for a few seconds, for a few seconds every day, it felt real. For a few seconds every day I could just be. I could be me. I could forget the pain and my thoughts, and I could breathe.”

Jisung just nodded his head, not letting go of my hand, but he didn’t say a word. I appreciated that. I appreciated the quietness of him. Because as opposed to the others, he didn’t lecture me on my feelings. He didn’t tell me how it is wrong to feel the way I do and how I should have seen all this coming. He didn’t try to tell me how to move past this, or how to continue living my life. Jisung just stayed silent.

“Why are you awake?”, I asked him after a few moments, breaking the silence he gifted me.

“I couldn’t sleep. And the last time I told you about my sleeping problems, you told me you could tell me a story, like my mother did. A bedtime story to make me fall asleep.” I let the tears that still lingered in my eyes roll down my cold cheeks, as I nodded my head. “Will you tell me one?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I will tell you any story you want.”

And so, I did.

I told everyone my story.

Bonus

“What took you so long?”

Haechan swam into the cave, brushing past everyone that was looking at him with expecting eyes. He ignored them all and just kept swimming.

“Answer my question.”, Jeno spoke louder this time, but Haechan just kept swimming. He didn’t care that everyone was waiting for him, waiting for him to fulfill his promise, to fulfill all the promises he had made for the past weeks.

“We had a fight.”, he told Jeno with a shrug of his shoulders, nonchalant about the other one’s questions. Haechan could see the disappointment and anger in the faces of everyone in the cave, and he couldn’t care less. He knew what he was doing was right. He knew it was necessary to go through all these lengths to get what he wanted, what everyone wanted.

“A fight?”, his friend repeated, skeptic lingering in his voice. “This isn’t a game, Haechan. We put our trust and time in your hands. How long until this plan of yours backfires? How long until they notice that their ship hasn’t been moving in days? How long until they discover us and put an end us?”

“Jeno.”, Haechan’s eyes piercing into the older boy, voice clearly stating a warning. “Have you lost all your trust in me? I know what I am doing.”

“Are you?” Everyone was looking at the two, anticipating the outcome of this long-awaited conversation. “You were the one promising us you were going to get us this girl. You were the one convincing us how much you were craving her and how much we should as well. And we have given you time, but all you do is play around. This isn’t a game, Haechan. This will determine our lives. Without her, we will not survive, and you are very well aware of that.”

“This is where you are wrong, my dear friend.” Haechan turned his body, facing all the sirens watching him. “This is a game, and I am the leader of it. This girl we are talking about is different from everyone we have ever had. This one is special. She isn’t easily fooled by my tricks, by my voice. She has a smart mind, that one.” A wide grin appeared on the siren’s lips, making him almost look crazy, and his eyes narrowed on his friend yet again. “This one will bring us everything we have ever dreamt of. And it will work. The game I am playing, the fight we were having today, it will all work in the end.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” The question lingered in the quiet of the cave, the eyes of everyone looking at Haechan, faith and trust all in his hands.

“Because it is all going according to plan.”, he announced, voice thick with pride and confidence. “It is all going according to my plan.”

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