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elena-reina · 4 years

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Worth It - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Request: (1/3) heyyy, can you do an imagine that draco comforts you for having depression for whatever reason and one day he saw you standing on the roof of hog warts almost leaping off the balcony but he catches you in time (you can create the ending) thank u if you do!! :)) - Anon

(2/3) Can you do a one shot where Draco knows about the readers eating disorder and he helps her overcome it? I hope that makes sense, I love your stories so much, please don't stop writing! - Anon

(3/3) Yay, you’re back! I was wondering if you could do a Draco Malfoy x reader where he finds her self harming? I get it if you aren’t comfortable - Anon

Warnings: Very triggering- read with caution please, depression- suicide related, anorexia, self-harm

A/N: PLEASE READ! These three all fall under the same category for me, so I just combined them. I just want to make it clear that I am not, in any way, romanticizing or making it seem as though I am pro self-harm whatsoever; I purely write whatever requests come in. To those that do, I know you’ve got a lot going on and there is a lot of emotions, trauma, and hurt; believe me I know a lot about it. But it gets better, I promise you. It always gets better. Incase you all haven’t heard it, I love you, I care about you, and I know you’re strong enough to make it through anything. If anyone needs to talk, my messages are always open and again don’t ever think you’re not enough or worth it because you all are golden. You were put on this earth for a reason :)

Just another day on top of another.

Yawning, you lightly scratched your head and stood in front of your mirror in your dorm room; nothing covered you besides your undergarments. Looking up and down your body completely still, you wouldn’t be able to tell there was anything wrong. You lifted your arm and looked at your wrist leading down your forearm; the markings covered the insides of your arms and varied in color, shape, and size. Some of them were old, obvious by how they shined and caught light at just the right angle. Some were bright red and bold, there was no denying it. Most were about a month old, looking like a cat scratched you and drew blood; which would be believeable considering you owned a cat- Pumpkin; some you could also blame on an accident.

Well, what kind of accident?

Well, you didn’t have that answer. Not as if anyone were to ask anyways due to the fact that you kept them hidden in the first place.

You started at your feet, averting your eyes from your own reflection. Your feet were bony and thin, like the rest of your body. Raising your gaze, you winced at the emaciated figure that stared back at yourself.

What had you let yourself become?

To others, you looked sickly.

Had you come to Hogwarts like this initially? No. It was harder to hide it at home, so your mind never crossed it other than maybe dark thoughts here and there.

Did you have a good life at home? Well, that’s subjective. You had a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food in the fridge. All the necessary things to provide as a necessity to live.

But did you have genuine friends, loving parents, and a place to call home? No.

Your once plump and vibrant self, now looked thin to the bone. Once the soul becomes so thin, the body will inevitably follow in its footsteps like a wandering toddler, learning and adapting from the shadows within. Instead of a growing sense of ultimate self-love, self-worth, or self-positivity, the soul doesn’t have the strength to ascend upwards to health anymore. And so it is extremely hard to eat more, even when it is a simple bite at a time; drink more, with a tiny sip of water needed to survive; live more, the simple act of breathing eventually gets difficult from time to time; and ultimately hard to listen to that part of yourself that wants to stay alive and be loved.

Would you still go to the Grand Hall? Well of course, if there was one thing you hated more than yourself was unwanted attention. Part of you belives it’s your fault that you don’t have friends soley because of how introverted you are. And with the friends, well friend, that you do have just so happens to be the person most people don’t get along with; Draco Malfoy.

What’re the odds.

There definitely was more to it than just being “friends” with Draco, but neither of you fully acknowledged it. He knew about your eating disorder, and he tries his best to help you, encouraging you every step of the way- even when you blatantly push him away.

You never asked for help- Not that he cared if you did or didn’t anyway.

Turning away from the mirror, you slipped on your white button up shirt making sure to clip the button around your wrist, taking attention away for your skin. Sliding on your skirt, Y/H tie, and your Y/H robe, you were ready to head down for breakfast.

Your hand rested on the cold metal door knob, as you stared at the small piece of silver metal on top of your dresser; whom you have a terrible relationship with. You bit your lip, hesitating. You knew you shouldn’t take it. You knew you shouldn’t have it on you because it will only ingite triggers.

Fuck it.

You quickly walked over to your dresser and picked up the sharp piece to put in your pocket. Spinning on your heel, you headed on out of the room and to the Grand Hall.

You walked through the aisles, and immediately met with Draco’s eyes. He lit up and waved you over to your usual seat right beside him. He scooted over, patting the space next to him as you sat down. He grinned, happy to see you.

“G’morning, Y/N,” he said pulling you into a tight hug. He was always careful when touching you because he felt like he could snap you in half if he were to be too rough on you.

You smiled warmly, breathing in his calming smell. “Good morning, Draco.”

“Alright, I know we’ve been doing baby steps for the longest time, but I think you are just about ready,” he spoke.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What’re you talking about?”

He leaned over the table and placed food onto your plate, more than he’s put on the last times. Before it would just be pieces of fruit here and there, maybe a piece of sausage; but this time he put a waffle, more fruit, and two slices of bacon.

Your stomach gurgled for the food, desperate to be full off of something. But at the same time, you felt sick to your stomach.

“Draco, this is too much. I’m not even all that hungry. We had a big dinner the night before remember?”

“Nonesense, you literally only ate a handfull of rice and two small pieces of asparagus last night. Even my owl eats more than that,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

You stared at your plate, leaning back. Your tongue felt dry, despite your cup of water being right in front of you. Your throat felt as if someone thrust a handful of itching powder down and it was dying to be coughed out. If possible, you could sit in the chair for fifteen hours straight; you just weren’t in the mood to eat.

“Listen, you don’t have to eat it all, but please try for me.”

You nodded and picked up your fork, stabbing to the orange melon. Bringing it to your lips, you slowly chewed as your stomach was growling in pleasure being finally fed.

Draco cheered you on with every bite, causing you to laugh. He wanted to distract you so that you focused less on what you’re eating and more on conversing with him so you weren’t as distracted with how much you were eating.

Eventually, you finished about half the waffle, all your fruit, and had no more bacon left. You were surprised at yourself when you looked back at your plate and then to him.

“I’m so proud of you! You ate more than I expected- not that I am complaining, I’m definitely not because I am really happy for you,” he quickly chuckled, “Maybe tomorrow we can put two waffles.” He nudged the side of your bony rib jokinly.

“Ha ha very funny,” you joked, rolling your eyes.

After some time, you had to go to class. Sadly, you didn’t share many classes with Draco if at all. Walking into potions, you sat in your usual seat in the back of the room. As usual, there were always a few Slytherin’s that would pester you solely because you were one of the few people in the school who was able to even share the same space as Draco; it was pure jealousy but you didn’t have a say in anything, or even how your friendship blossomed in the first place.

“Y/L/N,” Daphne sneered, leaning close to your face.

You really tried your best to focus on your Potions book but the group of girls that taunt you every single day just so happened to want to be extra annoying and sit around you. And when I say around you, I mean literally in front of you, next to you, on both sides, and even behind you. You lifted your head from your hand to looked at Daphne in front of you, considering she was right in your face. You opened your mouth to speak, but she beat you to it.

“I really don’t understand how us purebloods are forced to associate with people like you rotting mudbloods,” she giggled, making a disgusted expression as she said the last part. Her friends burst out into obnoxious laughter.

You weren’t even a mudblood. You had friends who weren’t magical, but that only led people to paint you as a mudblood.

"Can’t say anything? Can’t stick up for yourself Y/L/N? My goodness, do you even speak or is that too hard for you?” Sarah on the side of you asks, awaiting your response, “I see the way you have Draco baby you. It’s pathetic really.”

They took your silence as an answer and continued but this time it was Heather behind you. "See, she doesn’t even deny it,” she snickered, "Just look at you. I don’t see what he sees in you. You look like, I don’t even know how to say it, a walking pole-”

“No, a broken twig!” Daphne interjected, laughing.

“Yes a broken twig!” Heather continued, slowly enunciating each word, “Nothing but a pathetic, filthy, mudblood who pretends to be sick just to get the attention from those who actually matter.”

Each word felt like a stab in an open wound over and over again, being thrusted through your entire body. Tears welled up in your eyes as you blankly stared down at your Potions book, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“What? Cat’s still got your tongue?” Alicia from the other side of you jerked, shoving on your roughly causing you to bump into Sarah. Sarah let out a disgusted groan and pushed you back off of her.

“Gross! Do not touch me!” she gagged, as Heather joined in and pushed you to the point that you fell out of your seat and roughly onto the floor with a loud smack.

“HEY! LEAVE HER ALONE!” someone in the classroom, whom you recognized as Justin Finch-Fletchley, spoke loudly finally witnessing what was happening.

Tears silently cascaded down your cheeks. He quickly jogged over to you as the mean girls dispersed to a different part of the classroom snickering together.

“Are you alright?” he asked concerned, extending his arm out towards you. You looked at his hand through blurry eyes and nodded, lightly grabbing onto him. He helped you to your feet. Grabbing onto your book, you turned and rushed out of the room and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

Keeping you head low, you sped walked, and crashed into someone that sent you flying to the floor. Choking over your tears, you didn’t bother to look at who it was and instead rushed to find your Potions book and hurry out of there.

“Y/N?” that familiar voice spoke.

Draco.

You still avoided eyecontact as you kept searching to your book only to find him holding onto it, to give to you. Standing up, you straightened out your skirt. Lightly grabbing it, you whispered a quiet thank you and tried to continue down the hallway. He stopped you grabbing onto your arm, alarmed.

“Woah, wait. What’s going on, what happened, what’s wrong?” he asked all at once as he watched the translucent tears glide down the sides of your face. You stood straight.

“Please, let me go,” you spoke softly, your voice slightly cracking.

“Was someone saying bullshit to you? Did someone hurt you? Because you know I’m always here for you and I’ll make sure they don’t say anything to or about you ever again.” He growls getting angrier by the second.

“I just really want to be left alone, Draco. I’m sorry,” you said snatching your arm back and sped walked down the hallway.

His scowl lightens, worrying for you. He slowly followed you.

Initially you wanted to go to the bathroom, but changed your mind last minute. Turning a different corner, you kept going up more and more stairs until you inevitably reached the top of the Hogwarts building. Rushing to the edge, you dropped your book onto the floor and stood slightly leaning over the edge to get a good look at the bottom of the building with your hair flowing in the wind. It was a long way down that will ultimately end up in costing you your life. Trying to force yourself out of your thoughts, you looked in your pocket for that piece of metal, grateful that you grabbed it earlier. Frantically unbuttoning the shirt around your wrist, you felt numb as you choked over your tears silently.

“I’m not worth it,” you thought to yourself.

You stood on the brink of something you couldn't describe. The weight of everything seemed to press down on your shoulders and you struggled to take even a single step forward towards anything positive.

You felt worthless.

A waste of space. A waste of air. A waste of life.

It was too much. All of it.

The tingle as the sharp metal glided against your skin provided a senseless, numb feeling. Every step cost you as the darkness in your mind grew darker and darker; the pain grew sharper and stronger; all of it seemed to only swell in strength and you began to wonder if things could ever get better.

You were tired of feeling things. Everyday felt like never ending dread. With an exception of Draco, nothing seemed worth it anymore. Hell, Draco will only end up forgetting about you in the end of it all.

You don’t play that much of a significant role in his life to matter to him in the long run.

Sometimes you wonder if someone ever notices that sad, broken look in your eyes that you see in the mirror that are masked with a smile and fake enthusiasm.

If they see beauty where you see ugliness.

You laugh, traveling up your arm going over old scars, a bitter, sarcastic laugh, at yourself. Nobody cares. No one notices.

They never seem to, do they? You’ve fought for years, all for what.

The crimson liquid dripped down your arm, falling onto the stone floor. The wind pushed and howled against you as though to try and shove you back. Clumsily, you dropped your metal blade.

“No!” you shouted, dropping to your knees and it fell further and further, out of your sight. You choked over your sobs, feeling broken. Your arm stung and you looked at it through blurry tears.

“I can’t take this anymore,” you spoke aloud to yourself and shakily stood up. You inched closer and closed on the edge, as you looked up inhaling the fresh air. With one last breath, you closed your eyes, opened your arms, and took your last step forward and felt the pressure of the wind beat you on the way down.

The blackness behind your eyes was perfect. It provided a visual silence that gave a respected admiration. With your eyes closed there was the simple sweetness of the longing of existing, of being, of breathing, and how those moments extended with such grace until you are met with the concluding dark abyss.

Prior while had Draco followed you, he could feel the dark and depressive energy emerging out of your presense. He knew you needed your space, but something was off. The higher and higher you went up the stairs, he had enough of following you and simply looked up. Only the worse things plagued his mind as he quickly rushed back down the stairs and sprinted through the halls to hurry and get outside. He had no seconds to waste, because he had a feeling you were going to try and jump.

He could’ve followed you all the way to the top, but if you had jumped he would’ve been to late. At least this way, he had a chance of catching you.

Ignoring the pain in his chest from running, he ran pushing anyone and everyone who got in his way.

Darting outside, his eyes widened as he saw your body flying down the side of the building. With one last push of exertion, he caught you in his arms just in time. He fell forward into the floor, but was sure to cradle your head so you got the least amount of injury.

Breathing heavily up and down. You opened your eyes and met Draco’s silver, scared ones. You didn’t know what to think. You didn’t think he was going to be there. Your fresh wounds, began to soak up in his white shirt. Draco sees them, the sight of your new scars reveal themselves to him. He sees your arm, not that he’s surprised. Still being held in his arms protectively, he starts to cry.

“Y/N,” he says your name like you had just broken his heart.

Your throat tightens and you feel yourself on the brink of tears as your eyes stung. You didn’t know what to say. You were broken.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, not knowing what else to say or do. “I’m sorry. I–”

He interrupts you. “Why...” he stammers gazing down at your arm, “How many times?” He rang a soft finger down your arm, wincing at every raw wound.

“I don’t know,” you mumbles.

“For fuck’s sake,” he cried out, his tears dripping off his chin. “I’m sorry I wasn’t…I wasn’t there for you enough.”

You shake your head, “No, Draco, it wasn’t your fault–”

Draco looked down at you with confusion and anger before he smashed his desperate lips onto yours.

Suddenly, the anger, the self-hatred, the loathing, the rage left your body for a split moment. It diminished as soon as his lips pressed against yours in a long over-due, intense passion. It was as if he was taking all away all your pain and misery and threw it away.

You kissed him back with burning amount of fiery love he was kissing you with. Your lips worked hungrily against his as his hands snaked their way to your waist and pulled your shaking body closer to his to kiss you deeper.

Your cold hands grabbed his face and pulled it closer to yours, if that was even possible. His calming scent flowed through your nostils, making your eyes water under your closed eyes.

Too many emotions were going through your brain and you couldn’t handle it. Deep down, you had always dreamt of being with Draco. Although, you wish that it could have happened under very different and happier circumstances. Nonetheless, you were grateful.

Pulling away, he gazed into your eyes. “Y/N, can you answer me why? Why didn’t you come and talk to me.”

You tried diverting your gaze, but he grabbed your chin with his hand lightly to keep his eyes locked with yours. “Please.”

“I can’t take it anymore. I hate myself and everything I stand for,” you began to cry, “I just... I just thought it would make it easier for everyone else if I were to end everything and erase myself from existence.”

“I would miss you and I don’t know what I would do without you. What if I had just offed myself and left you there to wonder where you went wrong.”

You broke down into sobs, burying your face into his neck as he embraced you in a tight hug.

You shook. “I... I know, but I’m nothing special. I’m just–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he snapped harshly. “You are so fucking perfect, it drives me insane. I love you so goddamn much, do you know that? Do you? I love you too much to let you keep doing this to yourself. You are worth it. You are loved. You are my everything. I want you to remember that feeling you had right now at the thought of me ending my life, because that’s what you’re doing to me whenever you cut me out of your life like I’m nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” you cried lifting your head sniffing, “Draco, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear. I was just…I was just..” but you didn’t have any excuse, so you collapsed back into his warm embrace.

“I know,” he murmurs against your hair. “I know. I love you. I love you so much.”

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wastelandcth · 4 years

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spooky baskets - cth

anon requested: u can use this for a blurb if you want but I was just:( thinking of dovey and cal packing care packages to all their friends in quarantine and since they live together and take care of each other all the time it's kinda pointless to make ones for each other but each of them does that without the other knowing:( and they're like ~surprised but not really since they're soulmates so they could have seen it coming~ but the things inside??? so precious omg:(

summary: spending halloween season in quarantine means that Dovey has to resort to other fun ideas, like spooky baskets.

author’s notes: thank you to the anon who requested this! i know quarantine has been a hard time for everyone (trust me, i know) but i hope this blurb brings a little joy to these uncertain times.

masterlist || request

As the weather switched from the hot summer heatwaves into the cooler nights where Dovey was finally able to sit outside in the backyard wearing a sweater without wanting to melt, she knew that eventually, the seasonal sadness that crept its way into Calum's soul would come. She knew it would mean that as the sun set earlier and came out later in the day, Calum's mood would change and the already quiet personality he had would be heightened. So she'd come up with a plan to get him out and be productive while still being safe and socially distant from the crowds of people that seemed to think the pandemic was over.

"Hey Dove, do you think we could pop over to the store tomorrow? I was thinking we could make care packages for everyone, it's been almost two months since we last saw anyone in person and I think it'd be a nice surprise for them." she had offered while they both ate dinner, a rerun of a show playing softly out from the television. "I was thinking we could make them spooky baskets!"

"Spooky baskets?" Calum asked softly and chuckled, raising an eyebrow at his wife as he looked up from his bowl of roasted veggie pasta. "What are spooky baskets?"

"Oh you know, they're like care packages but they're themed to Halloween! It'll be nice for everyone to have a little Halloween basket. We could get them some candy, pumpkin spice stuff, oh! Fuzzy socks and maybe even like wine." she nodded excitedly and chuckled.

And that's exactly what Dovey and Calum found themselves doing the very next day. Dovey had woken Calum up with some banana protein pancakes he'd been meaning to try for the past couple of weeks and a cup of coffee. She'd been excited to go out ever since Calum had agreed that care packages for their friends would be a nice way to celebrate Halloween in the current state the world was in. So with both of them wearing a mask and Dovey's bag stocked with a bottle of hand sanitizer and wipes, they made their way into Target to browse for anything they could use for their spooky baskets.

It wasn't long before their cart was filled with candy, gummies, multiple bottles of wine, and anything that Calum and Dovey deemed appropriate for a spooky basket. Dovey had even managed to sneak in a couple of items for Calum, who she was sure hadn't noticed as he'd been too busy looking for things the band would like. Calum however, had been too busy looking for things that Dovey would appreciate, having snuck an extra orange pumpkin bucket that he knew she would never notice since she wasn't the best at simple math. By the time they had reached the self-checkout and had managed to hide each other's presents from one another, they were in the car sanitizing their hands and driving back home.

"I think Ashton would prefer to have the socks and Michael would enjoy the hand lotion," Calum said as they sorted through bags of Halloween themed self-care. "Maybe we could give Luke the set of nail polish? I know he's been itching to get his nails done but doesn't want to risk it by going out to a salon."

It went on like that for a while, Dovey showing Calum a pair of socks or a shirt or any of the other things they'd bought for their friends and then they'd both discuss who they thought it would be best for. Soon enough, they had a line of spooky baskets on their dining table and all they had to do was finish writing on their Halloween themed cards which Dovey had specifically picked out for every single one of the baskets.

"Do you mind finishing up the cards? You have a way with words, I would just say something weird and you're poetic. I'm going to take a shower and then we can watch a movie?" Dovey asked as she handed Calum the stack of envelopes and cards, walking down the hallway to their bedroom where she had hidden the bag filled with everything she'd gotten Calum for his basket before he had time to even notice.

Calum sighed in relief as he saw Dovey walk away into their bedroom, waiting a few moments before he made his way over to his office where he'd hidden his bag of treats for Dovey under the desk. He worked silently, arranging everything he'd snuck into their shopping cart while Dovey had been distracted looking at homeware and Halloween mugs, and when he was finally done, he set the basket back under his desk before making his way back over to the dining table to finish up writing the cards for their friends.

The next day, the morning sky was grey and the cold air had made its way in through the bedroom window that Dovey had insisted stay open throughout the night. Calum wished he could've stayed in bed all day, knowing that there was nothing he and Dovey could do either. Tour had been rescheduled and all their trips and vacations had been put on hold, with no guarantee of when he could fly back home to see his parents or even fly to London to see his sister. He'd rather stay in bed and sleep the day away, knowing there was nothing else to do but stay home and stay safe. Dovey, however, had different plans and when he heard music playing from somewhere in the house, Calum knew she'd come in with plans to take on the day. It wasn't too long after Calum had woken up that Dovey walked into their bedroom, holding two mugs with coffee and the smile that Calum knew he could count on seeing every day.

"Ready to deliver spooky baskets?" she asked as she sat down next to him in bed and handed a skeleton mug over to him.

A few hours later, after many sneaky deliveries of spooky baskets, Calum found himself in Dovey's arms while they laid on the couch. He'd been taking a nap, the cold air from outside had seeped into his bones and he'd been in Dovey's arms covered by a blanket to chase off the cold. She'd been watching television while he slept, her fingers raking through the curls which had grown out ever since the start of a lockdown. His short hair transitioning from a pink that Dovey had been obsessed with to a blonde quiff that made him look golden, and now into a mess of brown curls that she couldn't help but run her fingers through whenever she got the chance to. It wasn't until she felt Calum's lips on her shoulder that she realized he was waking up from the nap he'd accidentally fallen into.

"I have a surprise for you," Dovey whispered into Calum's hair, a soft kiss pressing onto his forehead which brought Calum back down to Earth and into his lover’s arms. "Need to get it from our room though, I'll be right back."

Calum was still half asleep as he sat up and watched Dovey wander off to their bedroom. He let out a yawn and let himself stretch out onto the couch, his eyes closing again as his mind tried recalling whatever dream he'd been having a few minutes ago. It had made him warm, flashes of Dovey's smile and her laughter mixed in with little ones chasing after Duke. He knew if he kept his eyes closed for a while longer he'd slip back into the dream and stay a little while longer.

"Dove?" At first, it seemed like Calum had slipped into his dreamworld and the love of his life was roaming the halls of a house filled with love and kid's toys, but as he felt a hand on his cheek, his eyes opened again and he was met with Dovey's eyes, who seemed to hide the excitement. "I have something for you."

Calum's eyes wandered down to Dovey's lap, which was currently holding an orange basket that was filled with flowers, candy, and gift-wrapped boxes. Calum's yawn was met by a laugh from Dovey who placed the basket in his lap, her body practically bouncing in place as she waited for him to open everything. Inside the basket, Calum unpacked a new coffee mug with a painted dog wearing a sheet over it making it look like a ghost, a blanket which was so soft Calum was surprised that Dovey hadn't kept it herself, and along with some more candy and snacks that Calum loves, he found a new journal with a polaroid picture of Dovey and Calum inside of the cover.

"Sweet girl, this is amazing. I, I can't thank you enough for this." Calum nodded and pulled her into his arms, "I have a surprise for you too, you know? Guess great minds think alike." he chuckled and set the basket down to go grab Dovey's own spooky basket from his office.

Dovey couldn't hold back the laughter in as she saw Calum walking into the living room holding a basket that resembled the one she had made for him, filled with goodies and self-care needs she loved. When Calum handed her the basket, she looked through it, her own heart swelling as she unpacked candles, lotions, and all the sour gummy worms she could dream of. It was everything a spooky basket should've been and all she could do was pull Calum into a kiss.

It wasn't until a while later when candles had been lit on the coffee table and the Doves were laying in each other’s arms under the world's softest blanket that the group chat all of the guys and their partners were in started to go off, with pictures of the baskets Calum and Dovey had worked hard on. Calum couldn't help but chuckled as he read through the messages his friends had sent to them, answering their praises with memes he had saved from conversations with Dovey. It wasn't until he heard a sleepy whine coming from Dovey that he realized she was asleep and the constant buzzing from her phone was probably going to wake her up soon. With a goodnight to the group chat and with fall candles being blown out and covered, Calum carried Dovey over into their bedroom and laid her down in be, making sure that the window was open before he laid down and closed his eyes, yearning for dreams of Dovey and the big house filled with laughter, love, and spooky baskets.

#calum hood blurb #calum hood one shot #calum hood imagine #calum hood fic #5sos blurbs #5sos imagines #5sos oneshots #5sos fics #calum hood #5sos #5 seconds of summer #gemma writes #anon requested #hood fall imagines

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argylemikewheeler · 6 years

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Heyheyheyhey steve watching the stars, or going for long walks late into the night, not really caring what could be out there. Steve unable to swim in his pool after knowing what happened there, who died. Steve's parents asking him why he always seems tired. Steve taking up track to drive his mind away from monsters and deaths and blood, oh so much blood. Steve being closed off, everyone at school wondering where King Steve is, the fuckboy that everyone loved. Steve wonders too.

okay so i could write about one hundred pages on this, but here’s a little 2.2k word vomit. i loved this omg thank u anon

Steve wasn’t a bad son. He and his parents worked around each other, participating in a symbiotic performance of the Perfect Family. Steve got what he needed to succeed as much as he could in school and for his mom and dad to experience the joys of parenthood. They were caring and loving, but not active. Steve slipped through their fingers the winter of 1984 and they didn’t so much as watch.

Sleeping was like waiting for a rising tide. Lying in bed, Steve could feel the licks of unknown darkness across his ankles, soon swelling and washing over his legs. It’d cross his hips and he’d roll over, hoping the bright light of his back porch would pour through his sheer curtains and ground him. But staring at his pool lights only amplified the hushed screams folded into every lap of water. The water and Barb’s screams would climb farther, crashing over Steve’s chest. The water chased after his rapid breath, filling his lungs. He’d be paralyzed, the water still flowing faster faster and filling Steve up until it could only escape down his cheeks.

He woke up most nights screaming. His sheets tangled around his ankles, haunting vines unable to leave him alone, and his fear retreating back to the contained water of the pool. His parents were another floor away, knocked out on two glasses of wine and antihistamines. They were done soothing nightmares when Steve got out of diapers. He had to raise himself.

Steve’s first attempt was track. It was consistent and required no brain power. It drained him and made any sleep stem from exhaustion and not choice. The Party could come to practice or meets and he could keep an eye on them– while also turning a blind eye to his own condition. He was still having nightmares, even in the daytime, and running helped. It wasn’t enough– not even the thought that Steve wasn’t running from anything this time– but it was a normalcy. It helped.

–

“Steve, baby, why are you up so early?” His mom stepped into the dim kitchen light still tying her robe. Steve was standing at the counter trying to figure out how to make oatmeal taste as good as Nancy’s. He was in his fifth morning of experimentation and it was the first anyone noticed.

“I’ve been up since seven.” Four, actually.

“Oh, baby, you should be getting more sleep. You look worn out.” She reached for the coffee maker first, then Steve’s face. Her thumb ran over his cheekbone, now easily spotted and traced.

“It’s just the running, Mom.” Steve shrugged. “I’m just losing weight in my face.”

“Are you sure?” She was asking only because it was law that parents weren’t supposed to accept their children’s lies, even if they didn’t care. “You can talk to me.” Steve couldn’t.

“Yeah. It’s just this new training. Haven’t gotten my diet quite right.” Steve waved out to the bowls of oatmeal and loose oats spilled onto the counter by unsteady hands. The oatmeal was Steve’s last hope; an ingestion of comfort. Nancy had made it for him one last time before school before everything fell back into shambles. He was still moving an oat out from between his teeth when he crumbled up his college essay. “I’ll get it, Mom. I’m fine.”

“Okay, Stevie, baby.” She accepted the lie with the confidence it had been the truth. “Have a good day at school. And tell those boys I said hello.”

“They aren’t all boys, Mom.” Steve felt the futile need to argue El and Max’s presence. She wasn’t parenting them, she didn’t need to ignore them. “And I have babysitting after track at Will’s house.”

“Okay.” She was reaching for a mug and clanged the ceramic to hush out Steve’s words.

Steve took his oatmeal and left. He ate his breakfast in the car and drove to Dustin’s neighborhood. He was early but had no issue waiting. Time escaped Steve normally, his vision coming in and out as the world grew black, his skin feeling a chill that escaped everyone else. In those moments, when Steve was drowning again, time ticked outside his grasp. He’d blink back, sweating and weeping, to a time he didn’t remember leaving.

Luckily, Dustin came knocking on Steve’s window just as his dashboard became invaded by thick, black vines. Dustin was always pleasant on the ride to school. He had every reason to be disgruntled; he was fourteen and was on his way to middle school at eight in the morning. He had better perspective than Steve. Claudia always made sure of that.

“You good, Steve?” Dustin asked after a while. Steve hadn’t really noticed the silence until he stopped listening to his own thoughts. “You look like shit.”

“I’m trying a new hair product.” Lying was easier on four hours of sleep. “First day makes your hair look… deflated. Then it gets the volume.”

“Alright…” Dustin was skeptical. “I’ll be tracking the progress. The hair is a trade secret.” He laughed and Steve coughed along. His laughter had become waterlogged from his late nights lying awake. There was nothing left in Steve Harrington to offer. It had been cried, vomited, and screamed out. There was no laughter.

Dustin was a good enough child and friend to leave Steve’s car without another question. He wished Steve a good day and hopped out of the car, rushing to the front door with promise at his heels. Steve drove the three miles to the high school and parked at the far end of the parking lot. The oatmeal bowl on the top of his dash had hardened by then. It all had.

He’d have to soak the bowl when he got home. His mother would be mad. He’d apologize but it would slip out insincere and distant. He’d go to his room. He’d lay down. He’d wish he had been swallowed up by split, petaled lips of a monster pacing Steve’s thoughts.

“Steve?” Nancy was at his window with Jonathan beside her and both looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Come on, the first bell rang.”

“You can’t skip history again.” Jonathan added. “I can’t keep catching you up on notes, Steve.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.” Steve muttered. The door was still closed and Nancy and Jonathan were speaking loudly through the glass, but their message got through clearly. “I’m going. I’m going.”

“Hey!” She grabbed his arm. “Is everything okay, Steve? You look…” Nancy paused to choose her words delicately. “Unlike yourself.” It was nice of her to insinuate that, on a normal day, Steve looked well-rested and adjusted. Steve hadn’t felt that way long enough to forget how to fake it.

“New hair product.”

“That must be it.” Jonathan stood on the other side of Steve. They bracketed Steve’s vision with pointed looks at one another. Nancy tried to talk with only her eyes while Jonathan was trying to do the same with his hands.

“I know, it’s looking really bad recently.” Steve continued. “I promise, it’s fine.”

“We weren’t asking about your hair.” Nancy said, her tone toed a scold. “We were asking about you, Steve.”

“Same thing, isn’t it.” He muttered, reaching for the front doors.

“Steve…”

“Sorry, can’t be late again.” Steve said, walking off. “You’re off the hook for review, Byers. See you later.”

—

Steve didn’t remember gym class, which was entirely the point. Running around the track and playing point-less pickup games of basketball kept Steve separate from his own thoughts and just barely connected to his body. In gym, he was mostly motions. No one spoke to Steve in a way that required a response. He drifted from sideline to court. The gym remained a gym the entire hour; not a single vine tripped him playing. That was mostly himself or Billy on opposing defense.

After class, Steve was trying to wake himself up in the showers. The water was hot and felt thick against Steve’s numb skin. There were a few other students, some still discussing the game, others recounting the weekend. Steve scrubbed his face with his open hands.

“Shitty game, Harrington.” Billy said beside him. He had been across the showers, but had moved closer to Steve, if only to heckle.

“Thanks.” Steve said, trying to let the water prod harsh enough to force a smile. “I don’t really care.”

“I just thought King Steve would have more invested in his own reputation.” Billy laughed. “Guess you’re letting the kingdom run you out, huh?”

“Whatever, man.” Steve muttered. There was more on Steve’s mind than the popularity of his actions. They might have been running him out of his place of status, but Steve had spent more time genuinely running for his life. “Fuck off.”

Billy scoffed but the water beside Steve continued to run. Steve hadn’t opened his eyes and wanted to cherish the moment he had in the familiar and unchanging dark. It was simple nothingness, the water beating against Steve’s face and streaming down his chin and chest. The warmth stirred feelings of humanity, of intimacy and closeness. Of the rapid thump thump thump of Dustin’s heartbeat against Steve’s hand as he hoisted him off the squelching, trembling ground. The fear of being torn apart just below the surface of Hawkins and being smeared along a pumpkin patch as their own lasting impression–

Steve’s eyes shot open as the darkness began to root itself in his nightmares. To his horror, the pooling water had turned to blood. Thick, warm, human blood. The water on Steve’s hands, around his feet, running down his chest was a dark maroon. He clenched his eyes closed again, his breaths whistling between his teeth as he began panting. The water was too warm now, it was overheating him. The kill was recent, maybe able to save–

“No no. No. Come on. Don’t.” Steve muttered, opening his eyes and trying to force himself to see the regular yellow tile. The blood was now smearing the shower faucet and soap bar. “Oh god. No no.”

“Yeah, if I saw what you did when I looked down, I’d be upset too.” Billy chuckled, noticing Steve’s slow tremors but connecting minimal dots to even begin intervening. His face was covered blood too. Steve’s haunting memory started with a slow drip from Billy’s nose, where Steve had once landed a punch, and slowly spreading over his entire face. He grinned through it, Billy unable to see through Steve’s nightmarish lens.

“No no. It’s not real. Come on, Steve.” He muttered to himself. He said his own name, reminding his body that there was a person inside; the world his brain was living needed to match the one his body was stuck in. He wasn’t in the tunnels anymore. “There’s no blood.”

“Excuse me.” Billy said, still listening. “Harrington, what are you talking about?”

“Please, just please shut up.” Steve begged, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. The water stung and felt thick in his eyes. Steve tried to wipe his eyes but felt the water smear across his face like steaming, burning war paint. “Leave me the fuck alone. Now.”

“Fine.” The water beside him stopped and feet slapped against the wet floor hurriedly. “At least, like, have a fucking towel, man.” Billy yanked Steve by the shoulder and counteracted the gesture. In actuality though, a teenager nearly vomiting, completely naked in the school showers must have been completely embarrassing for everyone involved. Billy wasn’t only helping Steve, if that was the correct word.

Steve took the towel being shoved on him. He stepped out of the shower’s static-feeling rush of water and feebly wrapped the towel around his waist. Steve still had his eyes closed. Opening them meant either reentering his nightmare or being brought to the brink of embarrassment in the boys’ locker room.

Finally, he allowed his eyes to open– and he was still standing in the showers. Warm water streamed at Steve’s face and he was dripping head to toe in clear, lukewarm water. There were wide eyes, quiet muttering, and quiet snickering.

Steve had a fight and flight response to the gut feeling of danger. They thought it was amusing, but Steve was the one with the first-hand experience chasing monsters with a prayer for his life and a pair of fucking swimming goggles. Steve was the one who slept with a nailed baseball bat under his bed every night, but they assumed it was all crushed beer cans and used socks.

“That ashamed over a game?” Someone chuckled, spinning their towel up. “All you got when you don’t got college, right?” They released an end and snapped the towel. Steve had to act like the sound didn’t make him jump.

He was mortified and exhausted and wondering how many nights did he have to wait until he’d truly never wake up.

The locker room erupted into laughter, Steve included. It was just another motion. Truthfully, he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He genuinely knew it had the ability to do so and devour him, and every last choking breath.

Sometimes, Steve figured it’d be easy to die; just like life had been before.

ao3

#Steve Harrington #stranger things writing #prompts

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