#and maybe max could understand it happening once– but it happens three times

[plateup]

i’ve decided to split max’s london verse into two separate verses because i really want to add a verse specifically set after paris but before his arrest– when he’s working in some second-rate ( for him, anyway, considering he did just come from jean-luc’s ) restaurant in london and trying to deal with the still-fresh fallout of paris.

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the mind flayer

Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?” “Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh. “Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”

Summary: jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).

Rating: general, cursing

Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, talk of death and grief, violence and blood

Words: 12.1k

Before you swing in: long time no see ! lots has happened, and this chapter was a pain for so many reasons, but shes here and i love her and i so sincerely hope yall enjoy :)

-

Stumbling blindly through dark woods while holding your bloodied ribcage has never been your favorite activity. Neither is following after a bunch of Demodogs to probably once again sacrifice your life to save others, yet here you are.

Steve has a gentle hand resting on the small of your back as he helps you navigate the woods. Dustin is to your left, scanning for anything that could possibly trip you as the three of you walk in a line. Lucas and Max follow, both of whom watch you with weary eyes.

Sure, you probably don’t look too good, but honestly. You’ve been objectively worse.

“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Dustin sighs next to you, kicking at a twig in your way. “He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

“Why do you have his butt memorized?” You mumble under your breath, which Steve chuckles at.

Max shakes her head. “But he was tiny two days ago.”

“Well, he’s molted three times already.” Dustin kicks at another twig, this time with more anger behind it. He’s on edge, and you know he’s worried that somehow Lucas will figure out that he kept Dart all this time.

You’d help the kid, but he dug his own grave.

“Malted?” Steve asks, looking over to you to see if you’re hearing what he’s hearing.

“No, buddy.” You shake your head at him, slightly endeared by the confusion on his face.

“Molted,” your brother clarifies. “Shed his skin to make room for growth, like hornworms.”

“I don’t think Steve knows what hornworms are, Dustin.”

The boy sighs, knowing you’re right, and continues to walk.

Max, however, won’t let the topic go. “When’s he gonna molt again?”

“It's gotta be soon.” Dustin responds, now looking around tiredly. He doesn’t have to tell you, but you saw how quickly Dart grew overnight; he’s grown at an alarming rate. “When he does he’ll be fully grown, or close to it.”

“And so will his friends,” you say grimly.

It’s quiet for a moment after that, your words unnerving the group. Everyone but Max had to deal with a fully grown Demogorgon last year, and none of you have forgotten how terrifying it had been. You all still have scars from it, both metaphorically and physically.

After a minute or so, Steve tries to lighten up the situation. “Well, at least there isn’t another cat for them to eat–”

“Steve–” But you’re too late, Lucas has already picked up on what the teen is saying.

The boy shoves past you and whips around to face Dustin, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “Wait, a cat? Dart ate a cat?”

“No, what? No!” Your brother is a terrible liar.

“What are you talking about? He ate Mews–” Your elbow digs into Steve’s side, causing him to hunch over and wheeze. “Shit.”

You force Steve’s head up so that he looks at you while you forcefully whisper, “Stop. Talking.”

“Mews? Who’s Mews?”

You turn to Max. “It’s nothing–”

“It’s their cat,” Steve wheezes out, still not at all understanding the situation.

“Steve!” You and Dustin screech at the same time. God, maybe it does make sense that he’s barely graduating high school.

“I knew it! You kept him!” Lucas shouts at Dustin, before turning to you with hurt in his eyes. “And you let him hide it from the party?”

You wince. “I had a suspicion, but by the time I found out it had already been too late and–”

“He missed me. He wanted to come home… and Y/N just happened to not know about it for a while.” Dustin interrupts, trying to appease his friend, but it doesn’t work.

“Bullshit!”

“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?”

“Oh, so now you admit it?”

You try to intervene, you’ve always hated when the boys fight. “Listen, what’s done is done and it’s too late to be angry now.”

Lucas scoffs. “I crawled into a dumpster to find Dart!”

“And that was a conscious decision that you made–”

“Guys!” Max steps in. “Who cares? We have to go.”

“I care!” Lucas faces Dustin again. “You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!”

“So did you!” You’ve never heard anger like this come out from Dustin. It isn’t an anger that spills over from a regular argument. Your eyes flicker to Max and you know that the anger is one that stems from hurt.

You remember how excited Dustin had been to tell you about his crush on the girl. Now, after she came here with Lucas, you fear you may have to have a code blue soon with your brother about young love and heartbreak. Unrequited crushes suck.

The kids all begin to scream at one another and you’re too tired to try and intervene again. Technically, they’re all right. Lucas shouldn’t have told Max everything, Dustin shouldn’t have hid Dart, and both boys shouldn’t continuously treat Max like some weird outsider.

As they argue, Steve rubs small circles in your back, sensing how exhausted you are. While your bleeding may have stopped, you still feel woozy from the blood loss and could really go for some water and food right now.

“They’ll figure it out,” he assures you, breath warm against your ear, and all you can do is sigh.

You’re about to tell Steve that maybe you should all walk back home, it’s late and the kids are all too mad at one another to be of any help, but then you hear screeching coming from the distance.

You both freeze.

Slowly, the two of you step away from the kids to follow after the sound. They’re too busy arguing to notice, but the screeching continues to grow louder and you share a look with Steve. This isn’t good.

“Hey guys?” Steve calls towards the kids, hand never leaving your back.

The kids continue to argue, ignoring him, and you bring your fingers to your lips and let out a high pitched whistle. “Idiots!” Lucas, Dustin, and Max all go quiet, looking over at you. More screeches fill the silence, and you tilt your head towards the sound. “Hear that? Shall we continue to fight or are we done here?”

Steve flashes his light towards the source of the sound and beckons for the kids to follow. You stay behind, both of you silently agreeing that he’ll lead and you’ll make sure everyone is safe. Lucas and Dustin immediately follow, but Max lingers.

“Hey, you comin’?” You ask, motioning towards where the boys have all gone.

“Why are we headed towards the sound?”

“Because it’s what we do,” you shrug. “Welcome to the party.”

Max blinks at you, in disbelief, and it breaks your heart that she has to come to terms with all of this. Taking the risk, you reach towards her hand, offering her time to pull away, but she doesn’t. She lets you grab her hand and you squeeze it, giving her a soft smile. “I’m right here.”

The girl exhales, still guarded, yet she finally nods at your words. She seems to believe you, which you’re thankful for, and together the two of you follow after the others. The five of you approach the overlook, all of Hawkins visible. There’s a layer of thick fog covering the town, the screeches ominous as the town is blanketed.

“I don’t see him,” Dustin mumbles next to you, though he slowly links his fingers through yours, quietly confessing to you that he’s scared.

You squeeze his hand. “Lucas, do you think your binoculars can see that far?”

The boy brings them up to his eyes, and within a few seconds he seems to have spotted the source. He swallows, lowers the binoculars, and says, “It’s the lab.”

“They’re going back home.” You whisper, feeling defeated more than anything else. It somehow always comes back to that fucking lab. Will’s episodes, Mike’s silence, Nancy and Jonathan taking the burden of bringing the entire lab down themselves.

You now understand the immense anger Nancy felt that day during lunch, when you had all been at Jonathan’s car and she created her genius plan. How badly she wanted to make the assholes pay for what they did to Hawkins. To Will. To Barb. To sweet El.

“We have to follow.” You say, an edge to your voice. Your side sears with pain, your ankle sending phantom pains up your leg. Dustin clings onto your hand like his life depends on it. You’re sick of suffering the consequences that Hawkin’s Lab has brought upon itself.

You begin to walk down the overlook, steps slow and careful, and while the kids glance uncertainly at one another, Steve doesn’t hesitate to follow after you. –

As you approach the gate to the lab, you see a car with headlights parked in front of it. Two figures stand at the edge of the forest line, watching.

Other people are here.

You bring your knives out and flick the handle so that the blades extend. Steve stands next to you, his own bat raised after seeing your fear, and you nod at one another to slowly begin approaching.

“Hello?” One of the figures shouts, their voice oddly familiar.

You stop.

“Who’s there?” The voice shouts again, and this time you recognize it.

It’s Jonathan.

Immediately you start to run, damning the pain in your side, and when you break through the treeline and see Jonathan standing there with Nancy, both of them safe and sound, you start to run even faster.

When Jonathan sees that it’s you, he starts to run as well and within seconds the two of you are a tangle of arms and limbs. He hugs you fiercely, his cologne familiar and you hadn’t known how homesick you were until you felt his arms around you.

“Bug,” Jonathan exhales with relief, squeezing you even tighter. He brings a hand to your hair and cradles your head, his fingers sure and strong and familiar as always. You bury your face in his neck, feeling all the pain and exhaustion from today begin to dissipate.

Nancy walks over and lays a hand on your arm as you’re still wrapped around Jonathan. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you guys are okay,” you sniff, you’re not sure why you’re crying. “God, I’ve had the weirdest two days of my life–”

“Steve?” Jonathan and Nancy suddenly say at the same time.

You pull away from your friend and let out a chuckle. Steve and the kids have now joined, confusion on all of their faces. “Like I said, it’s been a weird few days.”

“Nancy?” Steve walks over, his eyes going back and forth between you and the girl. He feels an overwhelming mixture of emotions overtake him. He notices the way Jonathan’s arm is still wrapped around you as you stand close to his side, and he notices the way Nancy avoids his eyes. Something burns within his chest.

“Jonathan?” Dustin narrows his eyes at the boy, and you can’t help but laugh.

Jonathan and Nancy approach the others and you slowly follow, taking your time. Nancy reaches Steve first. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Steve retorts.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will.”

You grab Nancy’s jacket. “Are they okay? Did something happen?”

“They’re not in there, are they?” Dustin motions towards the lab, fear in his voice.

Nancy lowers her voice. “We’re not sure.”

Jonathan senses there’s something else going on. “Why?”

Right on cue, the Demodogs begin to screech from the lab. Next to you, you feel Jonathan stiffen with fear. You know, without having to ask, that his family is stuck inside the lab. Suddenly the gash in your side stings in pain and you clutch at it and let out a wince. Hearing this, Jonathan finally realizes that you’re covered in blood.

“Oh my god,” his hands fall to your side as he scans for any other injuries. “You’re bleeding, oh my god.”

“I’m okay–”

“Fuck, bug. It looks bad–”

“Had a minor setback, we’re all good now though.”

Jonathan shakes his head at you, his eyes dripping with guilt; you know he’s already placed the blame upon himself long before he speaks. “I should’ve been there. I knew something was wrong when you didn’t call, and then Nance and I came back to my home being wrecked and you weren’t at your place and I was worried sick and thought you were dead–”

You grab his hands, forcing him to slow down and breathe. “Hey, look at me.” Slowly, his eyes meet yours. “I’m okay, bee. I had to protect the kids, and I had Steve. I’m right here.”

Jonathan looks over at Steve, who is stuck in some argument between Nancy and the kids, and he lets out a tired laugh. He can’t believe that he’s here right now, tired and delirious from a long trip with Nancy as you hold his hands, your own blood covering them, while Steve spares you worried glances. “Friends with him again, then?”

“It was inevitable.” You sigh, knowing how heavy your words are. Truly, it was inevitable. He’s too much like you, your wounds a matching pair, and you never stood a chance against the inevitability. He’s an extension of you now, you can no longer deny this.

“Are you really okay, though?” Jonathan asks you, still concerned about how much blood is on you. He feels this tug within him, pulling at his chest to encase you within his arms and to never, ever let you out of his sight again.

There’s still a slight limp in your step that Jonathan sees when he thinks you aren’t looking, the scar on your upper arm is harsh against the smooth skin he’s come to memorize, disrupting the topography of your body. Now, you’ve once again gotten hurt because of him. Your favorite cardigan is ripped and bloodied and Jonathan knows it’s one more scar he’s inexplicably given you.

The scars may fade, but he knows he’ll never be able to forgive himself. It’s the same heavy weight you feel within yourself over Will’s disappearance.

You notice that Jonathan’s eyes have glazed over in despair and you kiss his knuckles, bringing him back to you. “I promise I am.”

He nods, though he still looks unsure, but he pulls you in again for another hug. For a moment, everything is still. It reminds you of when you had been in Jonathan’s car last Christmas as he drove you home, the memories between you had gone still. You close your eyes, like you had last year, and for a moment nothing has changed.

“The power’s back!” Nancy exclaims, effectively shutting everyone up about who has seen what when.

You pull away from Jonathan. The urgence in her voice reminds you that everything has changed. There’s a scar on your upper arm that now has a matching scar on your ribcage. Jonathan has bags underneath his eyes that seem like they'll never go away.

You look away from him and look over at the kids and see, in Dustin’s and Lucas’ faces, the familiar fear and acceptance that they’re inevitably in danger. Steve catches your eye and he nods, indicating that whatever happens next, he’s ready whenever you are.

The seven of you quickly make your way back towards the lab’s gate, and Jonathan is the first to get there with you following close behind. The two of you stand in the patrol panel, Jonathan aggressively hitting the button designated for opening the gate, but nothing seems to be happening.

Suddenly Dustin barges in, roughly shoving past Jonathan and mumbling a soft sorry to you.

“Let me try.” Jonathan doesn’t move, which only aggravates your brother further and he flings the teen back. “Let me try, Jonathan!”

Jonathan looks at you incredulously, still having no idea why Dustin seems to suddenly hate him, and you stifle a laugh as you watch the boy repeatedly hit the button while nothing happens.

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin groans, still trying and failing to open the gate.

“Move over,” you shoulder past the kid and start pressing the button yourself. “It probably just doesn’t like you guys.”

Dustin and Jonathan both scoff at you, but you ignore them as you continue to press the button. You were mostly doing it to distract yourself, give your anxious mind something to do, but after a simple few taps, the gates unlock.

You cheer, immensely happy with yourself. “I did it! You guys just really do just suck!”

Jonathan shakes his head at you but offers his hand for you to high five, which you gladly do. As for your brother, he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation. You ignore the kid and follow Jonathan outside to join the others.

Once the gates have fully opened, you, Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve all begin speaking at once.

“I’ll go,” you all say in unison.

The kids all stare at one another, wondering how this will go. It didn’t escape their notice that Jonathan and Nancy were alone together, and that Steve’s worry over you has strings attached to unspoken truths.

They may be young, but they can sense the tension between you and the teens pretty easily.

“No, someone has to stay with the kids.” Nancy reasons, looking over at Jonathan to back her up, and his eyes draw to hers naturally.

You see this, and you wonder when they became such a cohesive team.

“Bug, what are you thinking?” He asks, knowing that ultimately it’s your call. When it comes to the kids, you’re the one to turn to.

You bite your lip, unsure. Max, Lucas, and Dustin all stare at you, and you know the two boys want you to stay with them. They’ve been through hell tonight, so have you, but then you think about whatever has happened in the lab to Will and Mike.

Sighing, you walk over to Jonathan. “Nance is right. I’ll stay behind with Steve while you and her drive to the lab. They’ll need all the help they can get, and I’m currently in no condition to fight.”

Jonathan’s eyes once again fall to your wrapped side, uncertain if you’ll be safe enough out here. “You sure?”

“I’m sure, bee.” You kiss his cheek, fucking terrified something will go wrong. The lab is crawling with Demodogs. “Promise you’ll be careful?”

“Always,” he cups your face and brings his forehead to yours. “I’ll come back.”

You relish in the warmth and let out a shaky exhale. “Go get Will.”

The moment between you two is intimate; everyone around you looks away. Nancy stares down at her feet while Steve clenches his jaw.

After a few more seconds, you finally release yourself from Jonathan’s hold and turn towards Nancy. “That goes for you as well, Wheeler. Stay safe.”

She nods at you, spares Steve one last glance, and then follows after Jonathan into the car. Within seconds, they speed off down the road, towards Hawkin’s Lab as more Demodogs screech in the distance.

“Well that was awkward.” Max breaks the silence. “Sensing there’s a lot of history there.”

You snort, admiring the girl’s wit, and tiredly lean against the gate’s post. “Still have a lot to catch up on, Max.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, he just gently leans next to you against his own post and flips his flashlight in his hand.

Dustin starts to pace while Lucas stares at the sky, as if willing away every problem from the day, which you want to do yourself. However, your best friend is currently very close to a death lab that Will and Mike are inexplicably trapped in.

You try to calm your breathing, knowing it’s no use getting yourself worked up, but you’re terrified. Steve sees your unease and does his best to comfort you. “Hey, they’ll be okay. Jonathan is a smart guy and Nancy is tough as hell.”

Hearing Nancy’s name coming out of his mouth makes you realize that you haven’t asked him how he’s feeling about all of this, which makes you feel even shittier. He confessed to you last night how he still loves her, and here you are, worried about your friend who the guy’s ex girlfriend showed up with.

“Are you okay?” You ask him softly, worried you’ll scare him away.

Steve doesn’t ask what you mean; he knows and lets out a dry laugh. “Not the most ideal situation.”

You’re about to say more, but something seems to catch Max’s attention. “Guys?”

You look towards where she’s pointing and you hear the faint sounds of tires squealing against concrete. The same sound Billy’s car had made in the school parking lot days ago. As you piece this together, headlights light up the gate and the honking starts.

Immediately you and Steve rush over to the kids and push them away, narrowly avoiding being hit. As soon as the road is cleared, Hopper’s familiar truck brakes in front of you.

“Let’s go,” the man gruffs out, and you’ve never been happier to see that obnoxious cop’s face.

Steve runs over to the passenger door and holds it open while you usher the kids to go inside. “Come on, let’s go! Go, go, go!”

One by one you get the kids seated in the truck, and once you and Steve make sure they’re in safely, he motions for you to go next before he climbs inside and slams the door shut. You end up squished up front, in between Hopper and Steve.

“Drive!” You scream, and Hopper doesn’t need to be told twice before he stomps on the gas and follows after Jonathan’s car.

It’s silent for a few minutes as everyone steadies their breathing, processing what’s just happened. You rub at your side, the rough movements from earlier having upset the wound. Hopper notices this and raises an eyebrow at you. “Lose a fight?”

“Mhm,” you see that he’s dressed in hospital scrubs and raise your own eyebrows. “Got checked into a psych ward?”

Hopper lets out a short laugh and you can see the exhaustion behind his eyes, but he plays along and you’re grateful for it. “Yeah, figured it was time.”

–

The Byers’ home is a disaster when you walk in. The walls are covered with pictures drawn by Will, a map that he somehow came to piece together, of an entire underground tunnel system that the Demodogs now reside in.

You sit on the ground next to Will, who has been placed on the couch while he’s still unconscious, and you hold his cold, limp hand as Jonathan kneels next to the boy and strokes his hair.

“I’m sorry, bud.” He whispers, voice breaking. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there.”

You grab Jonathan’s own hand. “He wouldn’t blame you. You couldn’t have known.”

Nancy places a hand on his shoulder as she watches over him, a certain concern in her eyes that you’ve never quite seen before. She’s always been the most guarded out of the three of you, but now she’s rubbing comforting circles into Jonathan’s back; you’ve never seen her so open before, so affectionate with someone.

You noticed how much closer they seemed earlier at the lab, how the tension between them now appears to be gone. You know that something happened on their spy adventure, you know they’d been alone together, probably gotten a motel room, even. Your stomach twists at the thought, but Will’s cold hand is a reminder that none of that matters right now. Like last year, he comes first.

“We’ll figure it out, bee. We always do.” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek, not knowing how many more times you’ll be able to do so, and you try to memorize how his face feels pressed against yours, the way your nose buries into his skin and the way he leans into the kiss each and every time.

Jonathan sniffles and thanks you, pulling you into his side as he continues to stroke Will’s hair. Nancy remains standing, and when you look up to offer her to sit next to you, you finally notice Steve standing in the corner, watching.

He’s holding himself as he watches the three of you and, despite how he tries to hide it, you see Steve wipe at his nose and blink away tears; he’s never looked so small before, and your heart breaks for him as he walks out of the room.

You excuse yourself to follow after him, bypassing Hopper who is angrily trying to contact some government people to alert them about Hawkin’s Lab.

Steve walks into the kitchen and faces the drawings on the wall, his back turned away from everyone in a pathetic attempt to gain some privacy. Slowly, you approach him and stand to his left. You know he senses your presence, but he continues to stare straight ahead.

“You want to talk about it?” You ask, voice low so no one else in the kitchen can hear.

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head, it’s all of a response he can give you right now. He’s worried that if he tries to speak, he’ll start crying. His worst fear has come true. He’s been replaced.

Tentatively, you grab his hand and bring your lips to his ear. “Can I?”

You feel Steve shiver, his breath is shaky, and though he isn’t quite sure what you’re asking him, he nods anyways.

He will always say yes to you.

The moment Steve nods, you tug at the hand you’re holding and bring his arms around you; he practically melts in your arms. Releasing another shaky breath, he buries his face in your hair and inhales your perfume as if gasping for air. He brings a hand to your hair as he cradles the back of your head, bringing you even closer together.

For the first time in Steve’s life, his mind goes quiet.

You’re aware of everyone else in the room, you know you’ll have to deal with the kids’ nosy questions later, but you don’t care. Steve needs you, and the way he’s clinging onto you as you hug tells you everything you need to know.

He’s barely holding it together, so you discretely shift so that the others can’t see as you attempt to piece him back together with your arms tightening around him and your fingers intertwining through his hair as well.

Your ribs scream in protest as you lean against the boy, but the pain reassures you that you are alive and sharing this pain with someone you’ve come to care deeply about.

“I’m here,” you whisper, feeling Steve’s body shake at the reassurance. “It’s just you and me right now, okay?”

He nods, still too scared to speak. The two of you remain interlocked in the kitchen you grew up in, surrounded by Will’s drawings and memories of early morning breakfasts with Jonathan, and Dustin watches from the kitchen table.

Lucas watches as well and shares a glance with your brother, who can only shake his head and sigh. He knows, sooner or later, that he’ll have to ask you about Steve, he’s never seen you like this before, not even with Jonathan, but for now he leaves you both alone.

When Hopper angrily hangs up the phone, Dustin uses it as an opportunity to distract himself. “They didn’t believe you, did they?”

“We’ll see,” Hopper sighs, tired.

“‘We’ll see’? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!” Mike exclaims, his foot tapping nervously underneath the table.

The chief sighs again, now spotting you and Steve still holding each other in the corner. “Hey, Henderson and pretty boy, get a room. Mike, we stay here and we wait for help.”

Hearing your name, you finally break apart from Steve and send Hopper an embarrassed glare, clearing your throat. Steve clears his throat as well and takes several steps away from you. His cheeks flaming red.

“Did he call me pretty boy?” Steve whispers to you, but you shush him, instead walking over to Mike, who has now started to tap his foot even more aggressively.

Standing behind the boy, you rub his shoulder, unsure how to help the boy. You know he’s worried about Will and he’s always hated waiting almost as much as you do. At your touch, Mike turns his head to look up at you, and the fire that’s always been in his eyes has died.

You look around the table, it’s quiet. Max is playing with her fingernails, Lucas is staring at the table with tears in his eyes, and Dustin is watching as you try to comfort Mike. All the kids are in their own state of shock and grief. They’re too young for all of this.

Meanwhile, Steve hangs back by the corner, knowing that this is what you do best: you take care of people. He watches as you furrow your brows for a second, a slight quirk he’s picked up about you, and slowly he sees you piece together how to help the kids you love so dearly.

You start with leaning against the table, wedged between Dustin and Mike, and somehow–Steve has always wondered how you do this–you light up the cold room with warmth.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of this by yourself,” you stroke Mike’s hair, it’s rare that you get to do this, but he remains numb to your touch. “Had I known any of this would happen, I would’ve made you more fudge brownies.”

Though it’s small, almost imperceptible, Mike lets out a tiny huff, a placeholder of a laugh.

At least it’s a start.

You whisper more words to him as Dustin leans against your back, grounded by your presence, and Max watches this with interested yet envious eyes. She still has yet to grow used to your kindness, to the love you share with the boys: a sibling relationship she’s never had before.

As you’re comforting Mike, his eyes wander towards the living room and suddenly he gets up. You watch, curious as to what he’s doing, as he grabs a cube and delicately rolls it around in his hand.

“Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?”

At the mention of Bob’s name, you bring Dustin closer to you. With everything that’s happened tonight, the reminder of the man’s death fills you with raw, unfiltered grief. When you arrived at the Byers home and found a distraught Joyce, you knew.

Bob is dead, and he has taken all the kindness he shared with you. He was a sweet man, one who took you in without any question as soon as he started dating Joyce, a man who offered you rides to work and encouraged you to stop by his own job any time. The same man who brought the woman who is like a second mother to you, back to life.

Your heart breaks for Joyce, for Will and Jonathan and all the other kids.

Bob Newby truly was a superhero, everyone he ever interacted with came out a better person because of it. He never left anyone without a smile on their face, and now he’s gone.

Once you’ve managed to swallow down your grief, you voice from the kitchen, “I didn’t know that.”

Mike turns to you. “He petitioned the school to start it and everything, and then he had a fund-raiser for equipment. Mr. Clark learned everything from him.” There’s light in his voice as he approaches the table again, a spark as if the fire is trying to relight itself. “Pretty awesome, right?”

Dustin and Lucas nod, faint smiles on their own faces. “Yeah.”

Mike sets the cube down. “We can’t let him die in vain.”

You agree with him, but how could you possibly accomplish something like that>

“What do you want to do, Mike?” Dustin lifts his head up, frustrated. “The Chief’s right on this. We can’t stop those Demodogs on our own.”

“Demodogs?” Max finally speaks up.

You sigh, tired of hearing your brother’s explanation of his made up name. “Please don’t ask–”

“Demogorgon, dog. Demodog.” Your brother explains, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Demodogs. It’s like a compound… It’s like a play on words–”

“Okay!” You and Max say at once, cutting off his spiel.

“I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe…”

You snort at Dustin. “Tell that to my ribcage.”

The boy glares at you and Lucas takes over, reigning you both back in. “But there’s an army now.”

“Precisely,” Dustin sighs in defeat.

Mike, who has been quiet the entire conversation, realizes something. “His army.”

Steve looks around, confused. “What do you mean?”

“His army!” Mike faces everyone, and the fire behind his eyes now fully alive, and you know he’s come up with some genius plan like his sister always does. “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army too.”

Dustin and Lucas share a glance and seem to be understanding what Mike is saying, but you look to Steve, equally as lost as he is, before Mike runs out the room while the others follow.

“Any idea what that kid is saying?” The teen asks you, but you shake your head.

“On a good day, I understand maybe a quarter of what Mike says. However, with significant blood loss and no real meals in me, I’m afraid I have no fucking idea what’s happening.”

“Cool,” Steve steps closer to you and motions for you to guide the way. “Let’s follow, then.”

You find the kids in Will’s room, all standing over a picture that the boy drew. In it is a looming figure with four long limbs, its figure thin and haunting as it stalks over the picture. Seeing the drawing, you get an uneasy feeling.

“The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.” Mike is explaining, speaking so fast you can barely keep up as you and Steve stand in the doorway.

“What virus?” You ask, now standing next to the kids.

Mike hands you the picture. “The shadow monster, it got Will that day at the field.”

“And this virus… It’s connecting him to the tunnels?” Max seems to be following along better than you are, which is quite depressing.

“The tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything.”

Something within your stomach drops, the familiar weight of guilt follows it. “Will is still connected to the Upside Down?”

“Whoa, slow down,” Steve steps in now, sensing your panic, and tries to rectify the situation. “Let’s all just slow down.”

Mike groans. “The shadow monster is inside everything, and if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will.”

Again, guilt throws itself against you with all its weight, and you feel each thud against your body like a hammer feels a nail.

Lucas nods. “And so does Dart.”

“Like what Mr. Clark taught us. The hive mind.” Mike follows.

You’re silent, staring at the picture still in your hands.

Steve crosses his arms. “Hive mind?”

“A collective consciousness, a super organism.” You hear Dustin clarify, but it’s all beginning to blur together for you.

All you can think is that you’re the reason Will has become entangled in all of this, in alternate dimensions, infected with a monster so powerful that it can create vast tunnels underneath your feet and monsters bred to kill.

Mike is on a roll now, it’s all clicking together. “And this is the thing that controls everything. It’s the brain–”

“Like the mind flayer,” Dustin realizes, which causes both Lucas and Mike to stop in their tracks.

It seems the boys have figured it all out, then.

And it seems to you that old scars will never fade, not in the way that they should.

Swallowing down your nausea and tears and guilt, you finally speak. “Explain everything to me.”

–

Dustin throws the DnD book onto the Byers’ kitchen table, beginning to explain everything as everyone gathers around.

You stand next to him, Steve to your right, and watch as your brother commands the room as if he was born to do so. As he explains, you look around and everyone. Jonathan stands next to Lucas, facing across from you, and Nancy finds herself standing to your left, worried.

“Oh my god, none of this is real,” Hopper is already over the entire situation, which annoys you. “This is a kid’s game.”

“I’m sorry, but those Demodogs that just attacked us are logical to you?” You snap at the cop, completely baffled that he for some reason decided to draw the line at a DnD reference rather than literal demons from another dimension.

Hopper narrows his eyes at you, but before he can say anything, Jonathan shrugs his shoulders. “Y/N has a point, you know.”

“Okay, before we all start fighting, I just want to point out that this,” Dustin points to the book on the table. “Is a manuel, and it’s not for kids. Unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor–”

“Analogy.” Lucas interrupts.

“Analogy, that’s what you’re worried about?” You grab at Dustin’s jacket to try and settle him down, but he’s angry and annoyed and you know it’s been a long day for everyone. “Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is!”

Nancy sees you struggling with the boy and tries to step in. “Okay, so this mind flamer thing–”

“Flayer,” you gently correct.

“What does it want?”

Dustin bites his lip. “To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?”

“Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh.

“Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”

Steve tries to say more but you hold your finger up, indicating that you won’t listen to whatever he’s about to say, and he rolls his eyes at you but rests his free hand against the one you have on his arm.

However, when Lucas announces that you could all be dealing with the end of the world, Steve lets out a dry laugh and tries to pull away from you, freaking out. “That’s great! That’s really great, jesus!”

You pull him back by the arm, forcing him to stand next to you and calm down, and he doesn’t try to fight it. Though he’s scared out of his fucking mind and in over his head, he listens to your silent command and comes back to you. Once he’s still, you unwrap your arm from his and bring that hand to the back of his neck, playing with the baby hairs there to try and soothe him.

Steve leans into your touch, his shoulders start to relax, and you know he’s slowly calming down.

Jonathan sees this interaction and catches your eye, and when he has your attention, he flashes you a knowing smirk as he mouths, friendly, aren’t we?

You narrow your eyes and subtly point between him and Nancy, mouthing back, you’re one to talk, which effectively shuts Jonathan up and he diverts his eyes again, going back to focusing on what Dustin and the others are saying.

“No, no fireballs,” Dustin is explaining to Hopper. “Instead, you–uh. You summon an undead army and… Uh, because… Zombies, ya know? They don’t–uh, have brains and the–the mind flayer, it, uh, likes brains.”

When your brother sees you shaking your head in disappointment and Hopper’s barely controlled anger, he quickly finishes with, “It’s just a game.”

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “You did well explaining, buddy.”

Dustin gives you a weak thumbs up as Hopper angrily throws the book down. “What the hell are we doing here?”

“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.” Dustin retorts, and you quickly raise your hand for a high five, which he gladly accepts.

Hopper sees this and rolls his eyes. “We are!”

“But even if they come, how are they gonna stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns!” Mike quips, and you give him a high five as well.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!” Hopper roars, and it takes everything within you not to flinch at his raised voice.

“We do know, actually.” You say, voice quiet but stern as you try to steady your heartbeat. You’ve never, ever been able to hear a man yelling at you without some form of panic clawing at your chest. “Ask Nancy about the guns. We fought a fully grown Demodog last year, you seem to conveniently forget that.”

Hopper clenches his jaw. “Every time I start to like you, you piss me off again.”

“It’s a skill.”

Everyone begins to argue again, Hopper with you while Dustin, Lucas, and Mike take your side to try and reason with the cop, before a frail, broken voice silences you all.

“They’re right.” Joyce stumbles from her room, her face still wet with tears as grief overtakes her.

“Mrs. Byers,” you breathe out, immediately walking over to the woman to stand by her side, but she gently pushes you away.

“We have to kill it.” Anger slowly spills into her voice. “I want to kill it.”

Hopper joins your side now, the two of you surrounding the woman. “Me too, Joyce. Okay? But how do we do that? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”

“We don’t know what could happen to Will,” you urge, understanding Joyce’s anger but terrified of how it may affect her son.

“If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will.” Mike begins to walk over to the boy, who is still knocked out cold on the couch. “He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.”

Everyone stands in the living room now, and dread encases its hand around your throat. You don’t want to make Will any more involved in this than he needs to be, he’s been through too much.

Max cocks her head. “I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore. That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.”

“We can always trust Will.” There’s an edge to your voice, and Jonathan has to grab your hand to steady you.

Mike nods, understanding what you’re trying to voice. “I know, Y/N. We can always trust him, and he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

–

Somehow, Steve gets paired up with Nancy to cover the inside of the Byers’ shed with tarps.

One minute Steve had been standing behind you in the living room as Mike explained his plan, and the next minute he was being auctioned off to join his ex in a small shed while you got to happily team up with Jonathan and his mom.

It was unfair, really.

While he’s moping about his luck, Nancy hesitantly looks at Steve, clearly also as equally uncomfortable in the silence. She lingers as Steve begins to hang up another tarp and she tears a piece of tape for him, waiting.

She watches as Steve’s body stretches the length of the wall and realizes that this is the first time they’ve been alone together since their conversation at school, and that his languid movements are foreign to her.

Nancy hasn’t seen him so at ease in a long, long time.

She thinks about how you’d been with him these last few days while she had been with Jonathan, and she wonders what else may have possibly changed in such a short amount of time.

“Hey,” she finally says, the silence clawing at her. “What you did, um… Helping the kids, that was really cool.”

Steve still looks at Nancy with such sincerity and warmth, something that makes her stomach twist with guilt. He doesn’t know what she’s done just yet, and she doesn’t know if he has a right to even care at all.

“Yeah,” he exhales, breaking the eye contact first. “Those little shits are real trouble, ya know?”

Nancy finds herself laughing, grateful he seems open to talking to her. “Believe me, I know.”

“It’s a miracle that Y/N survived so long on her own.” Steve says absentmindedly, returning to hanging up the tarp.

Hearing your name causes Nancy’s stomach to twist again. Steve may not have pieced everything together just yet, but she knows that you have. You’ve always been able to read people well, too well, even.

Jonathan wasn’t yours and she wasn’t Steve’s, yet Nancy feels an overwhelming sense of guilt for the two of you.

“It’s nice that you were there for her,” Nancy avoids looking at Steve again.

“Y/N has been there for everyone else, so I figured it was time that someone was finally there for her?” He shakes his head, unsure what he’s even saying. “I just… I wanted to help her.”

Nancy doesn’t say anything, she only nods and continues tearing off more pieces of tape.

You’re too good, everyone knows this, and sometimes Nancy finds herself resenting you for it, even though none of it is your fault.

–

Jonathan tears down another bedsheet from the clothing line and tosses it into the growing pile of sheets and bedding in your arms; he yanks them down, you catch, and then he cuts the lines with the knives you loaned him.

“You sure this is gonna work?” Jonathan asks his mom, who has joined the two of you to collect her own pile of sheets to cover the shed.

Joyce nods, the familiar frantic look in her eyes from last year is now back. “He knew who I was. He’s still in there. It’s gonna work, it has to.”

You peek from behind the pile of cloth you’re holding. “Who knows, maybe we can finally prove whether or not Freud’s theory of consciousness is correct.”

Jonathan doesn’t understand what you mean, but Joyce sends you a grateful smile, appreciative that you’re trying to remain optimistic despite the situation, and then leaves before her son can question the plan once more.

As soon as the two of you are alone, Jonathan puts your switchblade in his pocket and then faces you, not wasting a second to finally have you to himself. “Okay, tell me everything I missed while I was gone.”

His eager curiosity makes you smile. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but aren’t we on a time limit?”

“I think we can spare a few minutes, bug.”

“Fine, but at least grab some of these sheets so I can actually look at you while I talk.”

Jonathan laughs and does as he’s told, grabbing some of the cloth you’re holding and lessening the weight of it for you. Once he’s able to see your face, he smiles warmly at you. “Hi,”

“Hi, bee.” The greeting drips from your mouth like pure honey, and with two simple words, Jonathan can feel himself finally begin to relax.

“So,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Go on.”

You take a deep breath, knowing that what you’re about to tell Jonathan will remove the carefree smile on his face. He’ll only blame himself, and you hate the responsibility he seems to feel for you.

“The only major thing, well… Besides the Demodogs, is that I spilled milk all over Billy, the guy you punched at the Halloween party.”

Jonathan gapes at you. “What?”

“Yeah, it was kinda awesome, honestly. He was being a bitch, accusing me and Steve of getting together to piss you and Nance off, and he was just being an overall creep, so… I spilled milk on him to get him to shut up so that Steve wouldn’t end up knocking the guy out.”

“Wait, Steve was there?” He tries to keep his voice level, but even Jonathan can hear the underlying hurt within his voice.

He’s not sure why the hurt is there, or why the thought of Steve being the one now protecting you sends a punch to his throat.

“Yeah,” you frown at him, confused by his sudden shift in mood. “He was with me in the lunchroom, wanted to know where you and Nance had run off to.”

Jonathan swallows. “I’m glad he was there, bug.”

And he is, he knows he is, but he also knows that it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the shift that has come between the two of you. How it was only thirty minutes ago that you had wrapped your arm around Steve’s, not Jonathan’s.

He clears his throat. “So, about Steve…”

“What about him?” You feign ignorance, but Jonathan sees the blush that has started to spread across your face.

“You’re blushing, bug.” It hurts him to tease, but he knows he has to. Jonathan has to play the role he had been given when he was twelve and had met you that day on Nancy’s front porch.

The same girl he slept with last night, who he has come to love with such devotion that he still struggles to accept within himself.

They haven’t talked about it, at least not yet, but all the unsaid truths between you and Jonathan hang over him. He can feel the lines and threads and strings all closing in on you two, and he knows you can also sense it as well.

“It’s nothing, bee.” You start walking towards the shed, uncomfortable now. You don’t want Jonathan’s teasing, not when it comes to Steve; it’s too painful, you still haven’t quite come to terms with your newfound feelings for the boy.

Not when you haven’t laid your feelings for Jonathan to rest, yet.

It wouldn’t be fair to Steve.

Jonathan steps in front of you, blocking your path. He feels as if he’s about to lose you, and for the first time since he’s met you, he doesn’t know how to make you stay. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just… I know you.”

His words burn.

“Let’s just get back to the shed–”

“Bug,” he blocks your path again. He’s not ready to lose you just yet, but he knows he will soon. It’s inevitable. “I know you, and when you’re around Steve, you just… You’re different, a–a good different, and–”

“Jonathan, I really don’t want to talk about this,” you plead, but he hears the at least not with you that goes unsaid. “Why don’t you focus on your newly formed relationship with Nancy, okay?”

Jonathan stumbles over his feet. “You–you know?”

“I know you,” you echo his words from moments ago, with its melancholy and all.

He sighs, steps to the side, and lets you go.

It’s quiet after that.

–

In the shed, everyone busies themselves with their tasks.

You, Steve, and Lucas run around with nail guns and tape for those who need it. The rest of the kids work as a unit, helping one another with covering every inch of wall they can find. Meanwhile, Nancy wraps newspaper around the poles while Jonathan carries Will through the door.

Seeing Will, limp within Jonathan’s arms, only reminds you of the dead body that had been pulled from the quarry last year.

Only this time it really is Will.

Together, you and Jonathan gently place the boy in the chair and tie him. You ignore the way your heart clenches as you knot the cords together; you’re doing this to save him. Joyce prepares the medicine needed to knock Will out, in case anything happens, and as you watch, Lucas and Mike switch on the overhead lamps, blinding you.

“Christ,” you mumble, holding your hand up to shield your eyes from the light.

“It works,” Mike looks at you, hopeful. “It’s gonna work.”

Hopper steps forward, facing everyone. “If you aren’t related to the Byers family, get out.” While everyone begins to leave, you and Mike remain where you are. When Hopper sees this, he frowns. “What did I just say?”

Dustin and Steve linger in the doorway, both silently asking you what the plan is, and you give them a slight nod to indicate that it’s okay. You’ll join them later, right now Will needs you and you sure as hell aren’t leaving Mike and Jonathan alone to deal with this.

“Y/N is family, Hop.” Joyce stands next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You smile at her before facing the chief. “I’m staying.”

“Me, too.” Mike echos, standing his own ground against the man, and you refrain from giving him another high five for his bravery.

Better not to upset Hopper too much more.

The man in question groans, too tired to argue. “Fine, you two can stay, but only because I know that if I don’t let Henderson stay then Jonathan will probably have a panic attack or something.”

Jonathan shrugs. “Probably.”

Dustin rushes over to you and gives you a tight hug. “Be careful.”

“I will,” you kiss the top of his hat, catching Steve’s eye in the process. “Take care of him, please?”

Steve nods, without any hesitation to do as you’ve asked. “Of course.”

And with that, the door to the shed closes as the last of the group leaves.

It’s silent after that, and you take a second to admire the work everyone did. The shed is completely unrecognizable, and the lights will only further limit Will’s vision. A part of you truly believes that this plan could work, but you’ve long since stopped letting your hope get the better of you.

“Alright, you ready?” Hopper looks over at Joyce, holding the ammonia needed to wake Will up.

“Yeah,” the woman crosses her arms, and you want to reach out and hold her.

Everyone is quiet as Hopper crouches in front of Will and dabs some ammonia onto a cotton ball. Then, slowly, he brings it up to the boy’s face and waits for him to inhale. When he does, Will’s eyes snap open and he inhales so sharply that you’re worried he’s hurt himself.

You stand in between Mike and Jonathan, and seeing the pure fear on Will’s face brings tears to your eyes. He reminds you of a deer, small and frail, with eyes so full of fear that it makes you ache.

Will’s eyes dart around the room, and when he notices that he’s tied to the chair, he begins to tug at the cords. “What–what is this? Why am I tied up?”

“Will, we just wanna talk to you,” Joyce softly tells him, now eye level with the boy as she does her best to calm him down. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“Where am I?” The fear that had once been in Will’s voice is gone, now replaced with an anger that seems so foreign to associate with the boy.

Hopper joins now, showing him the picture of the mind flayer that he drew. “You recognize this?”

Will shakes his head and looks over at you, now realizing that you’re there, and you force yourself to look away. He’s always been the sweetest boy, but he killed so many innocent people today, even if he hadn’t meant to.

You trust Will, you do, but you remind yourself that the boy in front of you isn’t really him.

“We wanna help you,” Joyce tries to reassure him again. “But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it.”

At the mention of killing, Will’s eyes widen as more anger seeps through him, now shouting at his mother, “Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up?”

He begins to thrash around, throwing his head back against the wall as he repeatedly screams and begs to be let go. The lights are now flickering and immediately you draw Mike into your chest, trying to mask your own tears as you comfort him.

Jonathan clings behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he buries his face into your shoulder, and blindly you reach behind yourself so you can hold him as well. When you feel his tears spill against your skin, you wrap your arms tighter around Mike and cry.

Will continues to scream, becoming more and more violent, and something demonic seems to crawl into his vocal chords as he screams.

You hold Mike and Jonathan tighter against you, doing everything you can to be there for the boys. You knew this would be difficult, but as the lights continue to flicker and Will’s pale face quickly becomes paler with every plea, you feel weak.

With Jonathan behind you and Mike in front of you, both boys clinging onto you as sobs wrack your own body, it becomes unclear who is being held up and who is the one holding.

Hopper has his own arms wrapped around Will, and slowly, miraculously, his pleas begin to fade off. Exhaustion seems to overtake the boy, as he starts to mumble more than scream, and with every exhaled breath, the light’s flickering settles down.

Finally, silence.

The only sound in the shed is Will’s labored breaths, alongside your own.

Joyce sits in the chair placed in front of Will, takes a moment to find her words, and then asks the boy, “Do you know what March 22nd is?”

You do, it’s Will’s birthday, and you listen as Joyce talks about his eighth birthday and how she had gotten him a giant box of crayons and he had used all the colors to draw a rainbow ship. With every word, more despair and love fills the woman’s voice as she reflects on how proud she is of him, how much she loves him, and you have to turn away for a moment to wipe at your eyes.

After Joyce has finished her story, you all see something within Will. As if he’s coming back to himself, his eyes no longer holding the malic from earlier.

Jonathan detangles himself from you and wipes his eyes as well, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Do you remember the day dad left?”

You turn around, already knowing the story that he’s about to tell, and you press a soft kiss to Mike’s forehead before joining Jonathan at Will’s side. He can’t be alone when he retells this story, because he hadn’t been alone when it happened.

“We stayed up all night building Castle Byers,” Jonathan reflects, nudging you as you crouch down in front of Will as well. “It was Y/N’s idea to build it just the way you drew it.”

“You loved the idea,” your voice cracks, but you try to hide it so that you don’t scare the boy.

You remember how Will’s face lit up when you surprised him with the idea. He hadn’t left his room in hours, blaming himself for Lonnie leaving, and Jonathan had shown up at your window, in tears as he confessed that he didn’t know how to help Will.

After yanking the teen into your room and sitting him down on your bed, you had told him that Will simply needed someone there for him, to remind him that he was good and lovely and that everything that Lonnie had ever said was wrong.

Later that day, the two of you showed up to the hardware store; two young teens with only pocket change as currency, and you’d bought all the supplies needed for Castle Byers.

“And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering.” The fondness of the memory causes Jonathan to laugh, and you do so as well as you remember just how many times Will had accidentally hit his fingers rather than the nail. “You missed the nail every time.”

“I thought you’d lose a finger, honestly.” You add, which Joyce laughs at.

Jonathan continues. “And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway. All of us were sick for like a week after that… But we just had to finish it, didn’t we? We just had to.”

You squeeze the teen’s hand and lean in closer to Will, sensing that it’s now your turn to speak. “Do you know what my nickname is for you?”

Will slowly nods, his eyes going to Jonathan and then back to you, indicating that he understands he’s your little bee.

“Little bee, that’s right.” It isn’t difficult to reminisce on your favorite memory with the boy, it comes to you immediately. “After we all had gotten the cold, do you remember the awful flu that Jonathan and Dustin somehow got like a week afterwards?”

Jonathan snorts, remembering how annoyed he had been for being so sick for so long. He had missed two whole weeks of school, and you were the one who had to bring his assignments to him and help with his homework.

“That weekend, our moms decided that it made more sense to send Jonathan to my house so he and Dustin could quarantine together, so I stayed at your house and we spent the entire weekend alone. Just you and me.”

You smile softly, the memory fresh and warm like an early spring day. You love Jonathan and Dustin endlessly, but being alone with Will was special. A rare occasion that the two of you always relished in. “That weekend, we watched all your favorite movies and I taught you how to bake the cookies you love so much… You taught me how to draw, and together we were happy.”

Your voice breaks again, the warmth of the memory slightly stings as you gaze into Will’s sunken eyes. Two years ago you had all of Will, his happiness genuine and his heart kind, and now you’re terrified you’ll never have that version of him back ever again.

Jonathan notices your hesitancy and strokes your face gently. “Go on,”

You grab the hand on your face and kiss it, grateful for the strength he’s loaning you. “We–we were almost sad when Dustin and Jonathan got better, because we had enjoyed our little weekend getaway.”

Joyce lets out a shaky breath as she reaches for you as well, her hand landing against your shoulder, a place she has long since inhabited for herself whenever she wants to express her love for you. She knows how fiercely you love her sons, and she remembers all the laughter and joy she heard that weekend within her home, a home that had long since stopped being warm for her.

“That weekend…” You force down the sobs that threaten to spill over. You have to finish the story, to remind Will of who he is again. He has to come back to you. “That weekend, you became my little bee.”

As soon as you say Will’s nickname, you lean away from the boy and try to collect yourself. You’ve said all that you physically can for now, and you hope it was enough. You hope, more than anything, that it will be enough to bring Will home again.

Mike steps forward now, and Will turns his head to him. “Do you remember the first day that we met?”

You notice the tear that falls down the boy’s face, and you lean your head against Jonathan’s shoulder in exhaustion as you listen to his story. It’s one you’ve never heard before, and it’s rare to see Mike so vulnerable with his feelings.

“It was… It was the first day of kindergarten. I knew nobody. I had no friends, and–and I just felt so alone and so scared but–” More tears come. “I saw you on the swings and you were alone, too. You were just swinging by yourself.”

Jonathan’s hand finds your hair as you both listen, and you know he’s thinking the same as you. How finding your person in a world so vast and lonely can bring you to life.

“I just walked up to you and… I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend, and you said yes.” Mike swallows, now diverting his eyes away from everyone. “You said yes, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Mike finishes with more tears, and you walk over to him so that he can hide his face against you. You know he wants to be alone right now, that he hates how exposed his emotions are, and as soon as you’ve wrapped your arms around the boy he buries his face in your chest and softly cries.

You do your best to shield him from the world.

Meanwhile, Joyce tries again to reach Will. “Will, baby. If you’re in there, just please… Please talk to us. Please, honey, can you do that for me? I love you so much.”

Something seems to collapse within Will, he fights back tears as his breathing becomes labored again. For a moment, you think it’s worked, that he’ll finally come back and you’ll have your little bee again.

“Let me go.” Will demands again, and you feel everyone’s heart in the room drop.

It’s quiet for several moments, but there’s a faint tapping that you hear. You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you’re sure that it hadn’t been there moments ago. You look around the room and see Hopper doing the same.

When your eyes meet his, he tilts his head at you as if to ask if you hear it too. You nod, and Hopper looks around once more before he freezes.

“Out,” Hopper suddenly orders, leaving no time for anyone to argue as he flings the shed door open and marches towards the Byers home.

–

“What happened?” Dustin immediately asks as soon as you enter the house.

“We think we found something,” you inform him, pointing to Hopper, who has now sat down at the kitchen table with a pen and paper.

Everyone gathers around him as he starts to scribble a series of lines and dots. “I think he’s talking, just not with words.

“What is that?” Steve asks, lost as to how lines and dots are so important.

“Morse code,” all the boys answer in unison.

Steve leans over you and whispers, “Why do they always do that?”

“You get used to it. Now shush.”

Hopper spells out the letters he remembers Will tapping. “H-E-R-E.”

“Here.” Everyone says out loud.

“Will is still in there. He’s talking to us.” The chief says, looking at Joyce.

Your eyes meet Jonathan’s and an idea comes to you. “If the memories we’re telling him are working, then what about music?”

Hopper thinks for a moment, but Jonathan has already run to his room to grab his stereo and cassette tapes, understanding exactly what you’re thinking.

A plan forms from there.

You, Jonathan, Mike, and Joyce all take turns telling Will stories while his favorite song plays. Should I Stay or Should I Go? Plays within the shed as memories fill it with warmth and Hopper taps out on a walkie everything that Will taps.

Inside the house, the kids, Nancy, and Steve all listen to the walkie and write down the morse code to decipher what Will is saying.

Jonathan tells him about real music, Mike recounts the time Will saved the party during one of their campaigns, Joyce talks about a kind moment from his childhood, and you tell him about the wonderful drawing he made for your birthday. The one of you, Jonathan, and the party fighting a dragon.

“You drew me as a princess and Jonathan laughed when he saw it. Said it was very fitting.” You say, nervously watching as Will frantically taps against his chair. “When you gave me the picture, I think I almost squeezed you to death when I hugged you. It’s still the best birthday gift I’ve ever been given–”

The sound of a telephone ringing cuts you off, and Will snaps his head up, no longer paying any attention to you.

You freeze, now realizing that the music has shut off. Will has to have heard it, and you know he’ll figure out where you guys are. His eyes droop shut and you slowly back away into Jonathan, who grabs you and pulls you even further away. He’s tense, you both are.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Joyce tries to draw Will back in, but he’s starting to pant as his eyes flutter rapidly underneath his eyelids.

“It knows. It knows where we are.” Hopper says as Joyce reaches for the sedative.

With one fluid movement, she injects Will and immediately he knocks out. His head falls forward, his breathing now back to normal. You pull at Joyce so that she faces you. “Did we knock him out in time?”

She doesn’t say anything, and Hopper runs outside while Jonathan and Mike join. The two of you stand in the shed alone, silent, both filled with dread.

Jonathan comes running back in. “They’re coming!”

“Shit!” You scramble to help him untie Will and you and Hopper use your knives to speed up the process. Your hands are shaking, but there’s no time to steady them.

Once Will is untied, Jonathan throws him over his shoulder and runs to the house. Joyce and Hopper follow and you grab Mike’s hand to make sure you don’t lose him. As you run, you hear the familiar screeches of the Demodogs and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

They’re close.

Inside, you take the lead and shove everyone out of the kitchen. “Get to the living room. Now!”

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Steve is at your side now, his voice soft with fear.

You’re about to reassure him that it’ll be okay, to lie through your teeth, but then you see the kids by the windows and groan. “Get away from the windows!”

They scurry away and Hopper steps in, holding a shotgun that he offers to Jonathan. “Do you know how to use this?”

Jonathan looks around as if Hopper has asked someone else. “What?”

“Can you use this?”

While Jonathan stumbles over his words, Nancy confidently walks over. “I can.”

Hopper nods and tosses her the gun before turning to you, “I saw the switchblade earlier. Use it.”

You flick your wrist and extend the blades, doing as you’re told.

Everyone gathers around, with an assortment of weapons, and you get the insane urge to laugh. Of course you’re back here a year later, standing in Jonathan’s living room as monsters from another dimension threaten your loved ones.

Jonathan stands in front of Joyce while you stand in front of Dustin, knives raised to your face. Steve stands in front of you, his back facing you as he wields his bat, ready to defend you and your brother.

You make sure to keep an eye on Lucas and Max, who are to your left, trusting that Nancy has Mike as she and Hopper raise their guns.

All eyes are on the windows, no one says anything as you all wait. With every passing second, the howls and screeches outside get louder. Then, a loud screech comes from your right, and everyone turns around.

“What are they doing?” Nancy asks no one in particular, her voice shaky but her aim firm and strong.

You see the bushes rustling through the windows, and another snarl comes from the other side that causes you all to scream. There’s commotion outside, a series of screeches and thuds, and your body tenses, preparing itself to fight.

Suddenly, the screeching stops, and through the window a giant body gets thrown.

You scream and Steve shoves you and Dustin further behind him, but your brother realizes before you do what’s happened. “Holy shit.”

The Demodog lays motionless on the floor, its body limp, and you realize with a relieved sigh that it’s dead.

“Is it dead?” Max asks, as you all begin to approach its corpse.

“It is,” you confirm, too scared to ask the question of what the fuck killed it.

As Hopper pokes at the Demodog with his shoe, the front door creaks open, and everyone turns in alarm with weapons at the ready. The lock turns, and you feel a familiar sense of static. It’s been a year since you’ve felt the sensation, a year since the girl who could control things with her mind disappeared and left her memory behind.

It’s El.

She walks in, and you drop your knife in shock when you see that it’s her.

She’s grown so much since you last saw her, her hair is longer and she’s gotten taller. Her clothes are all black, her eyes smudged with makeup. Mike steps forward, you see the way his eyes fill with adoration.

You let out a soft cry, all the guilt and grief you’ve felt over the girl finally lifts, and you can breathe again.

She’s back.

El is alive.

-

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[vetteltea]

Lando Norris and Putting Up Decorations [no warnings]

Day 1 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

“Mate, you just crossed me!” Alex’s voice shouts down the headphone set, a laugh erupting from the McLaren driver’s lips as he sees his fellow pilot cut off by none other than himself.

Lando’s down-time from the grand finale of Abu-Dhabi had lasted a grand sum of four days, three hours and twelve minutes before the boy was restless once more. He’d arrived home, seen his family, unpacked and washed his clothes in a fraction of the time it would usually take him. By the third day, he had called you at least seven times, begging for the company of his best friend- no, secret crush whom just so happened to be his best friend - and for your presence in Monaco. 

The evening you had arrived, the driver was bouncing on the heels over his overpriced trainers. When he’d caught a minute glance of your face, sleep ridden and your body wrapped in comfortable traveling clothes, the excitement filtering through his body couldn’t be contained, rushing over to scoop you up, the squeal which released from your lips barely audible over his own laughter, spinning you around in circles before gently reminding him she does need to go and grab her suitcase. 

He has it all planned out; a week of taking you to various lunching spots;, a few movie nights, maybe a catch-up with Max and Charles if you were feeling up to it. Most importantly, it was an entire week of being with you before you would fly home - together. 

What Lando had completely forgotten about, was the promise he had made to Alex, George and Arthur about a joint livestream, speaking about their experiences throughout the year. He’d sheepishly explained the situation to you over breakfast, only feeling his heart soften when you promised him it was okay, you would keep yourself occupied for a few hours, anyway. He wasn’t sure what you meant, or where you were going, for that matter when pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and slipping out through the apartment door. 

Engrossed deeply in his current driving battle, he hadn’t heard you return; it was just as well, your own phone connecting to the lounge speaker, gently playing Christmas music whilst unraveling the copious amount of decorations you’d obtained during your disappearance. After all, Lando had just moved into his new apartment and you were all-too-aware he had bought next to nothing with him. The least you could do was thank him by bringing some festive spirit into his home. 

One song becomes two; two become seven as you freely move to the music, climbing onto the arm of your best friend's sofa, tongue poked out at an awkward angle as your arms reach, a desperate attempt to hang the garland across the gilded mirror. You’re certain you would have entirely lost your balance, probably slammed into the floor if not for the two arms around your waist, feeling a warm chest press against your back. 

“You’re going to fall if you’re not careful.” He mumbles, keeping his grip around you firm whilst your heart caught up to your head; his arms were around your waist. Lando Norris was holding you. “I don’t want you to fall if I can’t catch you.” 

Did he…did he mean to say that? Did he understand how your heart fluttered so deeply, how if not for the garland left in your grip, you’re almost certain you would have turned in his grasp and pressed your lips to his, to hell with the consequences. Wordlessly, you let his touch remain whilst stretching to hook the garland across the mirror, now secure in your balance with his helping hands. (Helping was a strong word. You’re fairly sure your heart was about to explode.)

Hands fall to your side, subconsciously leaning back into Lando’s touch. Both of you are quiet, simply looking up to take in the decorations. This time, it’s Lando to act on instinct, tilting his head slightly and pressing a gentle kiss to the temple of your forehead, lips lingering for a lot longer than would be considered friendly. 

He hopes everyday. He hopes that one day the metaphorical penny will drop. Of course, you’re his best friend. There’s nobody he would trust more, who he would rather come to with his insane problems. Somewhere along the way, he had just so happened to fall in love with you. There’s the tiniest, most selfish part of him that wants nothing more than to lean forward there and then, tilt your chin and press your lips together. 

‘Not right now.’ he reminds himself. ‘I can do better. I can make our first kiss better.’ 

The moment has to end; eventually your head leans forward, unraveling yourself from his warmth and stepping off the couch. He can’t help but let the grin fall to his face whilst seeing you weave inbetween decorations, beelining towards the kitchen. 

“I picked up hot chocolate!” You draw him from his internal thoughts. “If you help me with the last few pieces, I'll make you one?”

“You had me at Hot Chocolate.”  

[theemporium]

hiii, i’d like to request a poly maxiel after danny’s crash in zandvoort - max has to finish the practice and focus on the gp so it’s only the reader that accompanies danny to the hospital and then to spain for his surgery, but max is obviously stressed because he can’t be with danny and you (even though they keep in touch through messages and facetimes) but as soon as he can, max joins his partners in spain and they celebrate max’s win a little to cheer danny up and take his mind off his injury maybe?

i’m not sure about the ending but something like this would be nice if you’re okay with writing this🙈 but it’s also totally understandable if you don’t want to write this! either way, thank you for hearing me out!😇

btw, i love your writing and i also love poly!f1 so this is a match made in heaven for me haha! thank you for sharing your amazing stories with us and i hope you’re feeling a lot better soon🫶

ahhh thank you thank you!! you're so sweet omg🥲also i didn't know how to end this either but thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Max shouldn’t have felt so on edge when he was the one who insisted you go with Daniel.

He had been notified over the radio when the crash had happened. The second Daniel’s name was uttered, he felt his heart rate spike. He caught glimpses of the crash through the massive screens around the track but nobody was giving him details on how he was, what had happened, if he was going to be okay.

It wasn’t until he was back in the garage after the practice session that he started to mangle the details out of people. You had joined Daniel at the hospital, sending Max a quick update on what was going on and what happened. You told him you would send any updates on his condition.

He didn’t think he was able to take a proper breath until you and Daniel returned to the paddock, this time with a cast on the latter’s arm.

Max could see the conflict in your eyes, so he made the decision easier for you. He told you to go to Spain with Daniel, to be with him during the surgery and the recovery. 

You had insisted that it was his home race, that you should stay with him to be there when he breaks the record. But Max had just smiled and told you that Monza would be where he would break the record, and you would be there for him. 

Daniel needed you right now, more than he did. 

So, you eventually gave in and took Max’s jet out to Spain to meet with the doctor who would be doing his surgery.

It wasn’t like he was totally cut off from you both. He had received a handful of messages—some of them updates, some of them just nonsense—in the group chat that had the three of you in it. Any time he wasn’t in the car or in front of a camera, he had one of you on facetime so he could be there for Daniel in some way too.

But it didn’t ease the tightness in his chest. He felt on edge, he felt off without the two of you by his side and he didn’t like it.

The race was more than chaotic enough to keep his mind off everything until he passed the checkered flag. The second he was climbing out that car behind the number one spot, his mind was on you and Daniel once again, his fingers itching to be close enough to hold the two of you again.

The second his duties for the race weekend were over, Max was catching the first flight out. He didn’t care about anything else. He just needed to be with the two of you again, even if it means skipping his own celebrations. 

“Hey, stranger.” 

The heaviness in his body left in seconds as soon as he stepped into the hospital room, seeing Daniel grinning on the bed with you sitting on a chair beside him. He rushed over before he could stop himself, being careful of Daniel’s arm as he pulled him into a hug.

“Are you okay?” His words were slightly muffled from where he had shoved his face against Daniel’s neck.

“I’m all good, I promise,” Daniel murmured.

Max then pulled away and instantly tugged you from your chair, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close like you were seconds away from disappearing. “And you?”

“I’m good too, baby,” you laughed softly as you hugged him tightly back, knowing very well that this was what he needed. “Congratulations, champion.”

“Nine in a row, huh?” Daniel wiggled his eyebrows. “Almost reminds me of that time—”

You lifted your head to shoot the boy a glare.

The Aussie grinned. “Never mind.”

Max laughed, something he didn’t like he had been able to do since both you and Daniel left Zandvoort. “I don’t care about the record,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “I’m just glad I’m with you both again.”

“Awww, our little softie,” you cooed as you jokingly reached to pinch his cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed as he grabbed your hand before intertwining your fingers together. “Whatever, we can celebrate in here.”

Daniel raised his brows. “You smuggle a bottle in here?”

Max grinned. “There’s many ways to celebrate without champagne.”

“Absolutely not,” you snorted. “Not in a hospital room, guys. Have some decency.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Daniel grinned.

.

[marymary-diva17]

Our human mom

Jake x reader x neytiri + sully kids and spider

The omatacyia clan was one of the few clans that could be deemed as a rare or very strange, as they had sky people apart of their clan. When everyone else had thought the ones from the sky were all long gone or with the rda. That was not all true was you and many others are loyal to the navi and had been able to make a new life here on pandora, along with being embraced by the great mother as well. 

y/n " so you are telling us that we have to stay hidden for the gather of the clan here"

neytiri " no we don't mean it like that ma y/n we are not ashamed of you and the others"

y/n " well Jake made it seem like that jarhead"

Jake " honey bunny I'm sorry and I mean no harm but you are mostly human at times and so his half of the base, and we don't have enough time to get everyone to do the eyes of eywa"

y/n " ........"

Jake " oh come on you can't keep on ignore me I know you love me" Jake soon picked you up and was now looking you in the eyes, he gave you his usual smirk.

y/n " I understand but I hate being away from the family and clan like this"

Jake " it will be only a week some of the navi here have yet to trust humans"

neytiri " yes and they have yet to open their eyes and see that you been blessed by the great mother"

y/n " okay but put me down you fool"

Jake " what if I don't want to" Jake and neytiri are laughing at you as you looked at them, Jake soon settled you back down as you look at him.

y/n " so what is the kids reaction to this whole thing"

Jake and neytiri " ........"

y/n " don't tell me you haven't told them yet wow that wrong"

Jake " oh come on they will understand the situation"

y/n " then you are fool for not knowing our kids"

Jake " there nothing we can't handle we will tell them and they will understand"

y/n " okay whatever you say" Jake and neytiri had spent some of the day with you until they were called away, to take care of their responsibilities and what need to be cover for the gathering.

Later that day

??? " mama" you soon heard a loud voice calling you and it belong to lo'ak.

y/n " over here my dear"

lo'ak " did you hear what dad and mom are doing for the gather, not allowing you to be there along with uncle norm, spider, and max everyone else as well that human"

y/n " yes I ....."

????? " mama dad is being a complete fool a fool" soon kiri had came into the room as well and she was mad.

spider " it no fair why can't I come as well I'm a member of the clan aren't I" soon spider had followed shortly after as well he was mad as now, so now it was three mad teenagers.

tuk " mama why can't you be at the gathering with us it no fair no fair" soon tuk came into the room looking upset as well and she hate, the situation.

y/n " everyone clam ...."

neteyam " Weill you all relax you haven't given mama time to talk at all" the four kids had soon clam down when neteyam had entered the room.

y/n " thank you my son look I know we are all mad about the situation, but it need to happen for now for the safety and well b being of the clan"

lo'ak " mama"

y/n " this gather will make new alliance that will be beneficial in the end, and if I have to miss that I will do that if good for the youth of the clan"

kids " yes ma'am"

kiri " then I will have a protest and stay here with you and spider"

y/n " you are totally your mother daughter kiri I love your support, but all your kids need to attend"

lo'ak " not all of us neteyam can go and we will be good"

neteyam " hey"

y/n " no all of you are the children are the children of torku makto so you will be needed there, to stand as family until together if not for you dad do it for me"

lo'ak " okay mama I will do it for you but why are you not mad"

y/n " oh I'm mad but mostly at your dad on how she worded the situation, but that man has fail on wording stuff in situation at time but he still a good person.... look once everything is good maybe we will be at the next meeting"

kiri " yes mama"

y/n " good and I will need you all to go and report back to me as well"

spider " yeah you have to tell us everything you see as I will be bored here"

y/n " no you will not your will have task, studies, and this base to keep you busy for a week when they are gone" s

spider " really aunt y/n"

y/n " well have to play our part but you can still talk with them as well" the kids soon smiled as it seems like they clam down from their anger towards Jake and the situation of the gathering at the moment.

y/n " now when you are all away at this gather I will need you all on your best behavior"

kids " yes ma'am"

spider " haha"

y/n " I mean all of you even you young man even due you are staying here, I will need you to come home on time no sleeping outside"

spider " yes ma'am"

lo'ak " busted"

y/n " lo'ak"

lo'ak " sorry mama"

y/n " you are all going to have a wonderful time and I know you will do well"

tuk " yes mama I will make you ppruf by being a big girl and not needing a baby sitter"

y/n " I know you will baby girl" tuk had wonder off as you soon looked at the older kids.

y/n " keep an eye on her and help her"

neteyam " we will mama" The kids had stayed with you for the rest of the day before Jake had come to collect them for bedtime, a few days later they all left for the gathering after packing up their stuff. Even due they are some upset kids they soon understood it will, only be a few days until they saw their human/avatar parents and friends again. Even if you and the others were not there to be apart of the gathering the clan still, found a way to make sure you all were apart of the festivities and seen as members of the clan. While they are all away you all made sure to keep the forest and village safe from any harm.

[cre8inghavoc]

Can't help it...

Part 5

inumaki x f!reader

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

You drove around together for another fifteen minutes, the city lights becoming a blur as you got lost in the ride. Finally, he guided the bike to a stop at an outdoor parking garage, driving all the way to the roof. As you arrived, you noticed it was completely empty, the perfect quiet spot. But that wasn’t the reason he brought you here. As you dismounted the bike and looked out, you understood—he wanted to share with you the stunning panoramic view of the city, the skyline glittering like a sea of stars against the dark canvas of the night. It was a sight that took your breath away all over again.

You both took off your helmets, setting them down carefully on the bike before making your way to the ledge, where the roof extended just a bit, creating a safe spot to sit with the floor of the parking garage right beneath you. The cool night air brushed against your faces as you settled down, you sat side by side, legs dangling over the edge. With the city lights twinkling around you, it felt like the world had paused just for the two of you, creating a moment that was as serene as it was unforgettable.

Minutes turned into hours as you found yourself completely engrossed in conversation with Inumaki. The words flowed effortlessly between you, each exchange filled with laughter, deep insights, and a growing sense of genuine connection. The city lights below seemed to dance in time with your dialogue, making the night feel almost magical.

“So, you’re telling me you’ve never been to an amusement park?” Inumaki asked, his eyes wide with disbelief as he leaned a bit closer, clearly amused by your confession.

“Nope, never had the chance,” you replied with a casual shrug, a smile tugging at your lips. “My family wasn’t really into that sort of thing. We were more about quiet weekends at home.”

Inumaki shook his head in mock disappointment. “That’s a tragedy. You have to experience the thrill of a roller coaster at least once. The rush, the fear, the way your stomach drops—it’s unforgettable.”

You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest at his enthusiasm. “I don’t know if I’m brave enough for all that. Maybe the carousel is more my speed.”

“Carousel?” he repeated, pretending to be horrified. “No way. We’re going all out. I’m dragging you onto the biggest, scariest ride in the park. You’ll thank me later, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. “I’ll consider it. But only if you don’t laugh at me when I scream my head off.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Deal. But I can’t promise I won’t be laughing on the inside.”

The conversation shifted seamlessly from amusement parks to childhood memories.

“Did you have any pets growing up?” he asked, his tone softening.

“Yeah, we had a golden retriever named Max. He was the sweetest dog ever. Always there when I needed a cuddle, especially after a bad day,” you reminisced, the fondness clear in your voice. “What about you?”

Inumaki nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “We had a cat, Momo. She was the queen of the house. Independent, a bit sassy, but she’d curl up on my lap whenever I was upset. It’s like she just knew.”

You nodded, understanding the bond that pets could create. “It’s funny how they can sense when we need them the most, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it really is,” he agreed, a thoughtful look crossing his face before he shifted the topic again. “So, what’s the wildest thing on your bucket list?”

You chuckled, slightly embarrassed to reveal it. “Honestly? I’ve always wanted to go skydiving. It’s terrifying, but I feel like it’d be the ultimate rush.”

His eyes lit up with surprise and admiration. “Skydiving? That’s intense! I wouldn’t have pegged you for an adrenaline junkie.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t call myself that. It’s just something I want to do once, you know? Prove to myself that I can face my fears.”

He nodded, clearly impressed. “I get that. It’s like a way of pushing your limits. I’m not sure I’d have the guts to jump out of a plane, though.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased. “You’re dragging me onto roller coasters, but you’re scared of skydiving?”

He chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, fair point. Maybe we’ll both conquer our fears together.”

The conversation flowed easily as you talked about dreams for the future, random thoughts that popped into your minds, and even shared some embarrassing stories that had you both laughing until your sides hurt.

“I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” you said between laughs, recounting a particularly mortifying moment from high school. “But it’s one of those things you look back on and just have to laugh at.”

Inumaki was still laughing, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “That’s priceless. I had a similar moment in middle school when I tried to impress a girl by joining the school talent show. Let’s just say my magic trick didn’t go as planned.”

You gasped, eager to hear more. “What happened?”

“I accidentally revealed the trick’s secret in front of everyone,” he confessed, shaking his head with a smile. “The worst part? The girl I was trying to impress was in the front row. She never let me live it down.”

You both burst into laughter again, the shared stories only deepening the connection between you. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, caught up in the moment.

It wasn’t until you both instinctively glanced down at your phones that you realized how much time had passed. The soft glow of the screens revealed the time—midnight. Startled, you exchanged surprised looks.

“Midnight already?” you murmured, a bit incredulous.

Inumaki smiled softly, a hint of surprise in his voice too. “Guess time really does fly when you’re having fun. Feels like we just got here.”

You nodded in agreement, feeling a bit of disbelief at how quickly the night had flown by, but also a warm contentment in the connection you had shared.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I brought us some chocolate,” you exclaimed, suddenly remembering the treats you had stashed in your bag. You quickly reached in and pulled them out, a grin spreading across your face. “My friends got it for me the other day and insisted I try them. I thought we could maybe try them together.”

Inumaki’s eyes lit up with curiosity, his usual playful demeanor softened by the prospect of sharing something simple but special with you. “Sure, why not?” he replied with a warm smile.

You handed him a piece of chocolate, and he accepted it with a nod of thanks. There was a brief pause as he looked at the treat in his hand, then, with a swift and practiced motion, he lifted his mask just enough to allow the chocolate to pass through, keeping his mouth hidden from view. It was such a small, casual gesture, but something about it felt almost intimate, as if this moment of sharing something sweet had added another layer to the connection you were building.

You popped a piece of chocolate into your own mouth, savoring the rich, velvety taste as it melted on your tongue. The two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, simply enjoying the treat and each other’s company. The night, with its twinkling city lights and cool breeze, felt even more perfect now, with the simple pleasure of sharing something sweet together.

“This is really good,” Inumaki commented, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. “Your friends have good taste.”

“Yeah, they do,” you replied with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours briefly before glancing back out at the city skyline. “It’s the little things like this that make moments like these even better, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t agree more. “Definitely. It’s like…everything just falls into place, you know? The view, the company, the chocolate—it all just fits.”

Inumaki chuckled softly, his gaze still fixed on the city below. “Yeah, it really does.”

“Hey, let’s get going. It’s a school day tomorrow, and we don’t want to be tired,” he says with a laugh, standing up and extending his hand to you.

You giggle softly and take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he helps you to your feet. The butterflies that had settled in your stomach earlier suddenly come alive again as he walks you back to his bike, his hand never leaving yours. It’s such a simple thing, but the way he holds on, the way he doesn’t let go, sends a wave of warmth through you.

When you reach the bike, he grabs your helmet and carefully places it over your head. He’s done this before, and each time, it makes you lose your composure a little more. It feels so intimate, even though it really isn’t, but the way he does it makes you feel weak in the best way possible. It’s a small gesture, sure, but it carries so much weight, making your heart race every time.

After securing your helmet, he puts on his own and then gets on the bike, turning back to you with that familiar, comforting smile. As always, he helps you onto the bike, his hands steadying you as you take your seat behind him. Once you’re settled, you wrap your arms around his waist, and with a gentle rev of the engine, you’re off, the city lights fading behind you as you head back.

Damn… he looked so fucking good earlier… The thought hit you out of nowhere as you replayed the image of him leaning back on his motorcycle, his relaxed posture accentuating his physique in the most distracting way. God, his physique looks ughhhhh… The way the light had played off him, casting shadows that made him seem even more mysterious—and that’s kind of… hot…

Wait, what the fuck am I thinking?

As quickly as the thoughts arose, you shook your head, mentally chastising yourself for letting your mind wander in that direction. What the hell is going on with me? You tried to push the thoughts away, but they lingered stubbornly, leaving you feeling both flustered and confused. You couldn’t quite put a finger on why these feelings were surfacing now, but one thing was clear—you were in deeper than you had realized.

And just as you were wrestling with those thoughts, trying to push them out of your mind, Inumaki moved his hand back onto your leg. The touch was gentle at first, but then he slowly slid his hand up your thigh, sending a shiver through your entire body. He continued down to your knee and then further down to your ankle, his touch almost hypnotic.

The simple act made your heart race even faster, and suddenly, the thoughts you were trying so hard to suppress came rushing back with even more intensity. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your mind spinning with thoughts you wouldn’t normally entertain—thoughts that were wildly out of character for you.

What is happening to me? you wondered, feeling the tension in your body build. His touch was driving you crazy, making it hard to focus on anything but the way his hand felt as it moved up and down your leg. You were more flustered than ever, your mind racing with ideas and desires you never thought you’d have. It was overwhelming, and you had no idea how to handle the sudden rush of feelings that he had unintentionally stirred within you.

Inumaki pulls into your neighborhood, the familiar surroundings slowly grounding you from the whirlwind of emotions. He stops in front of your place, and you hop off the back of his bike, taking your helmet off as you face him. “Thank you, Toge… today was really fun,” you say, feeling a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.

He quickly takes his helmet off and looks into your eyes, concern flickering in his expression. He gently places a hand on your cheek, lifting your head slightly to meet his gaze. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft but serious.

You blink, a bit confused. “Yeah, of course I am… what do you mean?” you respond.

“Your eyes… they’re super red and glossy,” he points out, his brow furrowed with concern.

You laugh, realizing what he’s talking about. “So are yours,” you retort, playfully pointing at him.

He chuckles lightly, but his expression remains thoughtful. “I knew it. I started feeling really weird while riding.”

You nod slightly, feeling a bit relieved to hear it wasn’t just you. “Oh, me too. I started thinking… weird things…”

Inumaki raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Oh yeah? What were you thinking about?”

Caught off guard, you stammer, “Oh… uh… NOTHING!” Your face turns bright red again as you quickly look away, embarrassed by your own thoughts.

He chuckles at your flustered reaction, but his tone shifts back to curiosity as he asks, “Okay… Y/N?”

“Mhm?” you hum, glancing back at him.

“What’s the chocolate brand you gave us?” he asks, his tone now serious.

You think for a moment, trying to recall. “Uhh, I don’t remember…? I think it started with a K… Kiva or something like that? Never heard of it, but it’s super good,” you say happily, oblivious to the significance.

Inumaki just stares at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “What…?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Y/N,” he says, his tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t quite place.

“Yeah?” you reply, still not understanding where this is going.

“That’s weed chocolate,” he finally says, deadpan.

“Wheat? Oh, are you allergic to wheat?” you ask, genuinely concerned.

He bursts out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, stupid, not wheat. I mean, like, edible.”

“Well… yeah, it is edible. We literally ate it,” you say, confusion evident in your voice.

He just laughs harder, clutching his stomach. “God, you’re so innocent. No, Y/N. It’s cannabis chocolate. We’re high out of our minds.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. “Whaaaaaaaaaaaa?” you exclaim, completely floored by the revelation.

Inumaki just grins at your reaction, clearly enjoying the moment. “Yeah… welcome to the world of edibles,” he says, still laughing as you try to process what just happened.

“Wait, but how—what—” you stammer, still trying to wrap your head around the situation.

Inumaki chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Clearly, your friends bought it for you and wanted you to try it out.”

“Oh god, I’m so stupid,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“This is hilarious, but I’m gonna head home. It’s getting pretty late.”

“Wait, what?! Are you crazy? I’m not letting you drive home high out of your mind, especially on a motorcycle,” you say, your voice rising in concern.

“No, it’s okay. I’ve done it before, and I was fine,” he replies casually, as if it’s no big deal.

You stare at him in disbelief, your worry quickly turning to frustration. “First of all, don’t tell me that because I’ll literally lose my mind! Second, why the hell were you stupid enough to do that? Do you have a death wish? And third, no way under any circumstance am I letting you ride high right now. Especially not because of me. So, get your ass into my apartment.”

Inumaki blinks, taken aback by your sudden fierceness. He opens his mouth to argue but quickly realizes there’s no point. Your tone leaves no room for negotiation, and honestly, he can’t help but admire how serious you’re taking this.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll stay. But just for the record, you’re pretty scary when you’re mad.”

You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “Good. Now come on, let’s get inside before we both do something else stupid.”

As you turn to head inside, Inumaki lingers for a moment, watching you with a slight smirk. He then whispers under his breath, “And pretty hot too.”

You catch the murmur of his voice and glance back at him, puzzled. “Huh? What was that?”

He straightens up quickly, his expression shifting to one of feigned innocence. “Nothing! Lead the way!” he replies, a bit too quickly, trying to hide the slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

You narrow your eyes at him for a second, suspicious, but eventually shrug it off and continue leading him into the house, completely unaware of the quiet compliment that just slipped out.

You showed Inumaki around your apartment, pointing out the bathroom, the kitchen, and anything else he might need during his stay. As you finished the tour, he smiled warmly at you. “Your apartment is really cute. I love how the aesthetic matches your vibe,” he said, his compliment making you blush slightly.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit flustered by the praise.

He glanced around the living room before asking, “Quick question… where exactly am I going to sleep?”

You looked around, realizing that your couch was way too small for Inumaki to sleep on comfortably. Your eyes darted to your bedroom behind him, and you felt a sudden wave of nervousness. “I… haven’t thought that far…” you admitted.

Inumaki shrugged casually. “I could still go home, you know,” he suggested, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice.

Before he could finish the thought, you quickly grabbed his hand and led him toward your bedroom. “Don’t be stupid, Toge, you’re sleeping with me tonight.”

Inumaki’s eyes widened, he smirked a bit as his face turning slightly red as he processed what you just said. You paused, suddenly realizing the implication of your words, and quickly let go of his hand. “UH… THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT… I mean, like, sleep in the same bed as me… wait, that still doesn’t sound better!”

You started to panic, fumbling over your words, but before you could continue, Inumaki smirked and placed his thumb over your lips and his hand was on your chin to gently silence you. “Shhh, I get it, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. He chuckled lightly. “We’re sharing the bed, got it.”

He said it so casually, but the ease in his tone only made your face turn an even deeper shade of red. The fact that he noticed your intense blushing didn’t help either; his amused expression made it clear that he found your flustered state endearing.

You nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Okay, yeah… sharing the bed,” you mumbled, trying to regain some composure.

Inumaki just smiled, the playful glint in his eyes never fading. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

His reassurance was meant to calm you, but it only made the butterflies in your stomach flutter even more.

Inumaki’s reassuring words lingered in the air as you both stood there, the tension between you palpable. You nodded again, trying to shake off the nervous energy that had settled over you. “Right… okay, so, um… let me just grab some extra blankets,” you said, quickly turning away to busy yourself with finding something to do, anything to distract from the situation.

As you rummaged through your closet for blankets, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Inumaki. He seemed completely at ease, which only added to your internal turmoil. How could he be so calm when you felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest?

When you finally managed to find a spare blanket, you turned back to him, forcing a smile. “Here, just in case you get cold.”

He took the blanket from you, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. “Thanks,” he said with a gentle smile, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer than usual.

You cleared your throat, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again. “So, um, I’ll just… I guess I’ll change in the bathroom,” you mumbled, grabbing your pajamas and making a quick exit before you could embarrass yourself further.

Once inside the bathroom, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. Get it together, you told yourself. It’s just one night. You can handle this.

You changed into your pajamas, splashed some water on your face, and gave yourself one last pep talk before heading back out. When you returned to the bedroom, Inumaki was already sitting on the edge of the bed, his back turned to you as he adjusted the pillows.

He glanced over his shoulder as you entered, offering you a smile that made your stomach flip. “All set?”

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you crossed the room to join him.

You climbed into bed, feeling a bit awkward as you settled under the covers. The bed was big enough to give you both some space, but the reality of sharing it with Inumaki made the situation feel a lot more intimate than you’d anticipated.

Inumaki slid under the blankets beside you, his movements slow and careful, as if he were mindful of your nerves. He turned to face you, his expression soft and reassuring. “Comfortable?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if “comfortable” was the right word for how you felt. “Yeah, I’m good.”

There was a brief silence as you both adjusted to the situation, and then Inumaki spoke up, his voice low and gentle. “You know, you don’t have to be so nervous. It’s just me.”

His words were meant to be comforting, but they only made your heart race faster. “I’m not nervous,” you lied, though it was clear from your voice that you were anything but calm.

Inumaki chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Okay, maybe a little nervous.”

You laughed despite yourself, the sound easing some of the tension. “Fine, maybe a little.”

He smiled, the warmth in his gaze making you feel a bit more at ease. “Well, don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything weird. We’ll just sleep, and tomorrow we can laugh about how awkward this was.”

You nodded, appreciating his effort to lighten the mood. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Toge.”

He gave you a reassuring nod before rolling onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. You followed suit, lying flat on your back with your hands resting on your stomach, trying to calm the flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Minutes passed in silence, the only sound in the room being the soft rustling of the sheets and your synchronized breathing. The initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a quiet sense of comfort in just being near him.

Finally, you felt your eyelids grow heavy, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt Inumaki’s hand brush against yours under the covers. It was a light, almost accidental touch, but it sent a small shockwave through your entire body.

You glanced over at him, but his eyes were closed, his breathing steady and calm. It could have been an innocent mistake, but the thought that it might not have been left you with a small, secret smile.

As you lay there in the soft glow of the night, the warmth of the moment surrounding you, your gaze drifted to Inumaki’s face, your eyes lingering on the mask he always wore over his mouth. It had become such a familiar part of him, something you almost never questioned, but in this relaxed, almost dreamlike state, your curiosity got the better of you.

“Toge,” you began softly, your voice a little hesitant, “can I ask you something?”

He turned his head to look at you, his expression calm and open. “Of course.”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to phrase your question. “Why do you always wear that mask? I’ve never seen you without it… not even when we’re alone like this.”

Inumaki hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Finally, he sighed softly and replied, “It’s not really a big deal… just something I’ve gotten used to. I was born with a mark next to my lips—it’s kind of like a birthmark, but it’s more noticeable. When I was a kid, people used to make fun of me for it. They’d call me names, say it looked weird, stuff like that. So, I started wearing the mask to cover it up.”

Your heart ached a little at his words, the idea of him being teased for something so personal tugging at your emotions. “That’s awful, Toge. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

He shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal, but you could see the lingering hurt in his eyes. “It’s fine. I got used to it, and now it just feels like a part of me, you know?”

You reached out, your fingers gently brushing against his arm, your touch soft and reassuring. “But it doesn’t have to be,” you said quietly. “Can I… can I see it? The mark?”

Inumaki hesitated again, his gaze searching yours for a moment before he slowly nodded. “Yeah… okay.”

With gentle hands, you reached up and carefully pulled down his mask, revealing the lower half of his face. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes fell on the mark he had mentioned—a unique, almost intricate pattern beside his lips, dark and distinct against his skin. It wasn’t what you expected, but rather than seeing it as something to hide, you found it beautiful, like a hidden piece of him that only a few were allowed to see.

Without thinking, you reached out and lightly traced the pattern with your fingertips, your touch feather-light as you followed the lines. Inumaki tensed for a moment, his breath hitching at the contact, but he didn’t pull away.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. “I love it. It’s so unique, like a part of you that makes you who you are.”

He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise and something else—something softer, more vulnerable. “You really think so?”

You nodded, a gentle smile spreading across your face. “Yeah, I do. You don’t need to hide it, Toge. It’s a part of you, and it’s special.”

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, the weight of the moment settling over you both. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the years of insecurity battling with the acceptance and warmth he saw in yours.

Finally, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “Thank you, Y/N. No one’s ever said that to me before.”

You smiled back, feeling a deep connection forming between you. “Well, I’m glad I could be the first.”

With a small, contented sigh, Inumaki reached up and placed his hand over yours, still resting on his cheek. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your voice light with affection, “but I think you are too.”

Your heart raced as you realized just how close you were to Inumaki. The sudden awareness of the proximity made you lean back slightly, a wave of self-consciousness washing over you. “Oh my god, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to get up in your space like that,” you blurted out, your words tumbling over each other in your haste to apologize.

Before you could retreat any further, Inumaki’s hand gently cupped your face, his touch warm and steady. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice carrying a reassuring tone that sent shivers down your spine.

“I think it’s just the weed taking over me—” you started to explain, trying to brush off your actions as a side effect of the high.

But he shook his head, leaning in just a little closer, his gaze locking onto yours. “No,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “High actions are sober thoughts, you know? You just get the confidence to do things you wouldn’t normally do if it weren’t for your anxiety.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you with a truth you couldn’t ignore. Your pulse quickened, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you got even more flustered. “You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he added with a soft smile, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

His words only made your heart race faster, your mind struggling to process the mix of emotions flooding through you. The closeness, the warmth of his hand on your face, the way his eyes seemed to see right through you—it was all too much, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Inumaki’s smile widened slightly, his expression soft and understanding. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Just be here, in this moment. That’s enough.”

For a few heartbeats, neither of you moved, the silence filled only by the sound of your breaths mingling in the small space between you. Then, slowly, he leaned in even closer, his eyes never leaving yours, as if asking for permission without words.

Inumaki’s eyes flickered with something intense yet tender, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Every second stretched out, the moment hanging delicately between what was and what could be.

But just as he began to lean in, Inumaki hesitated. His gaze lingered on your lips for a moment longer before he pulled back slightly, his expression softening into something more thoughtful.

“We should sleep now,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he was convincing himself as much as he was telling you. “Gotta wake up early for school.”

The sudden shift in the atmosphere left you a little breathless, but you understood the unspoken reasons behind his words. He was giving you both space, not wanting to rush into something so significant, especially when the lines between your feelings and the effects of the weed were still blurred.

You nodded, offering him a small, appreciative smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Inumaki returned your smile, his hand still resting lightly on your cheek for a moment before he let it fall away. With that, he turned onto his back, settling into the bed beside you. The closeness was still there, the connection undeniable. You both lay there in the quiet, the earlier tension easing into a comfortable silence.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Inumaki whispered, his voice soft in the stillness of the room.

“Goodnight, Toge,” you replied, a gentle smile tugging at your lips as you closed your eyes.

The room fell into a peaceful silence, the warmth of the shared moment lingering as you both drifted off to sleep, content in the comfort of each other’s presence.

By the time the first light of dawn began to peek through the curtains, your bodies had naturally gravitated toward each other. Your head rested near his shoulder, and one of his arms had unconsciously draped over your waist, as if protecting you even in sleep. The warmth of his presence seeped into your dreams, creating a sense of safety and peace that neither of you could fully comprehend but both embraced nonetheless.

As the first light of morning filtered softly through the curtains, you slowly began to stir from sleep. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the gentle brightness, and as you came to full awareness, you felt the warmth of something—or rather, someone—beside you.

At the same moment, Inumaki shifted, his own eyes fluttering open. The first thing he noticed was how close you were, your head resting near his shoulder, your breaths soft and even against his skin. His arm was draped over your waist, a position that felt so natural and comforting that it took a moment for the realization to fully register.

You both froze, wide-eyed, as the reality of the situation sank in. Your faces were mere inches apart, your bodies comfortably nestled against each other as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Inumaki’s eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and something softer passing between you. For a moment, neither of you said anything, just taking in the closeness, the way your bodies had unconsciously found their way to each other in the night.

“Uh… good morning,” you finally whispered, your voice a little shaky with the mix of emotions swirling inside you.

“Good morning,” Inumaki replied, his voice equally soft. He didn’t move his arm right away, as if he was just as caught off guard by how right it felt to be close to you.

You both shared a small, nervous laugh, the sound breaking the tension in the air.

“Uh… well, that was… cozy,” you said, your cheeks flushed as you tried to break the tension with a small laugh.

Inumaki scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, really cozy,” he agreed, his voice holding a hint of amusement. There was a glint in his eyes that suggested he wasn’t entirely unhappy about waking up that way. In fact, part of him wanted to stay close, to let the morning laziness keep you wrapped up together just a little longer.

“So, uh, I guess we should probably… get ready for school,” you finally suggested, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Yeah… school,” Inumaki echoed, though he made no move to get up. He seemed almost reluctant to break the moment, as if he was considering staying right where he was, enjoying the closeness a little longer.

You both sat there in that awkward-but-sweet limbo, neither of you really wanting to be the first to get up. Finally, Inumaki let out a small, resigned sigh, breaking the spell. “Alright, I guess we should… you know… start the day.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, though you felt a similar reluctance to move. You both stood up, the atmosphere still tinged with the remnants of the unexpected intimacy. You glanced at each other, exchanging shy, almost guilty smiles, as if you both knew you had just crossed a line but weren’t quite ready to address it yet.

Inumaki reached for his mask on the nightstand, but before he put it on, he paused and looked at you. “Hey… last night was… nice. I mean, not just the sleeping part, but… you know, everything.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth in your chest return. “Yeah, it really was. And, um… about this morning… I didn’t mind it. Like, at all.”

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Good to know,” he said, clearly pleased. He hesitated for a moment, then added, “Maybe we can… do it again sometime. Not the weird part, just… hanging out together.... you know?”

You blushed, but nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Taglist <3

@madaqueue @mikko-mikko @arabella0001

[onskepa]

Syawn ch 2

request:

Halo Hello Halo! I hope you are having a mighty fine day/night!

I hope this is alright but could I request a neteyam x avatar,na'vi! Reader?

Basically the reader is pregnant with what's supposed to be their first born. However, fate would have it that y/n would give birth to triplets! A never before heard of phenomena, due to na'vi usually having children one at a time and even then twins were a very rare event to occur!

I dunno I just like the idea of reader giving birth to triplets much to the sully family's surprise. Plus I couldn't help but think of how funny it would be for neteyam to be pacing outside the door for hours and the almost faint when finds out he doesn't just have one or two babies, but three!

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This is part two of Syawn request. Go check that out before reading this one! Now that aside! here is the awaited chapter two! enjoy!

Syawn series

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This communion with Eywa will be one for the books. Or in this case, a mark in na'vi history. Word spread of Eywa's miracle. Three na'vi children born at once! and from a dream walker no less!

All na'vi clans near and far wanted go and see for themselves. Because many refuse to believe such words, thinking its merely lies. But curiosity got the best of them.

When a day was set for the triplets communion with Eywa, many clans were set to witness it for themselves.

When such news got back to the Omatikaya clan, the world "overwhelmed" doesn't even begin to cover what everyone is feeling. While it is a huge honor for the clan to receive such guests, there is so little time to prepare who knows how many!

While jake and neytiri who are respectfully the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik of their clan, it was neteyam and syawn that were overwhelmed to the max.

So many people are coming to see their children bond with Eywa. The fear of seeing so many people just because of a impossibility happened.

Neyetam and syawn worry for their little ones as many people can scar them. Only having them for a few days and already both parents are being over protective and only want to keep their children safe.

"is this right...?" syawn asks neteyam as they gently rock the children's large basinet with them sleeping. "Let so many come see them...?" syawn says with clear worry in her eyes. Afraid that maybe what is happening isnt right.

"This is the first time many clans have come to see another's communion. It is a high honor....but I understand you yawne..." neteyam looks down at his sweet children. So small and already the three were making a impact on the world.

"to have them be shown like some spectacle, I fear the clans would see them as something else. Tell me nete, am I in the wrong? is this just my mother instincts seeing danger everywhere?" syawn goes on.

Neteyam brings her to his chest, her arms over his neck and his around her hips. The need to be closer to each other as means for comfort never dimmed with time.

"I can speak with my parents...I know they will understand and take our side" neteyam suggests. He felt his mate nod, her breathing slow as she relaxes in his embrace.

However as much as jake and neytiri understands their concerns, it was too late. By the next day, three clans arrived.

The Tipani clan, Anurai clan, and the Twakami clan.

And they all brought gifts for the children and the parents. Neteyam and syawn were grateful, but their worries never waivered despite the kind generosity the clans showed.

As the day goes by more clans appeared, even their closest ally, the Metkayina clan. Ao'nung and his beloved tsahik, Unyor came as well as bearing gifts from their island.

Tonowari and ronal, aged well but still in their prime, congratulate the couple and surprisingly, they along with the other metkayina members were allowed to the see the triplets first before everyone else.

Syawn understands the deep trust the sully family has with the metkayina clan, so she puts her trust in them too.

Ronal, Tonowari and their youngest, Ti'ong were given the privilege to carry one of the triplets in their arms. Ronal was happy, even though she isn't Tsahik anymore, she still blessing them like one. Giving each one a prayer and to hope for them a bright future.

As a warrior, Tonowari senses great strength in each of the little ones, sensing their hearts beating mighty and strong. Why, the one he holds already has a strong grip on his finger. That says a lot about them.

Ti'nong was looking at them with love and adoration in the young one's eyes. So small and so cute! Already seeing themselves as like a older distant cousin. But a fun cousin no less!

Ao'nung and Unyor were next to carry the two. Ronal held the other triplet a bit longer. Reminding herself of when her children were young.

"May Eywa bless you three with thriving joy and great bliss. Enjoy the gift she has given you and brace it to the fullest" Unyor says as she blessed the children. Syawn smiles, feeling pride and joy that her children were giving such blessings.

"I still don't understand how it is possible" ao'nung says, still confused of seeing triplets for the first time in his life.

"believe me brother, we don't either" neteyam replies.

"It is Eywa's will. She saw syawn worthy and blessed her with a great gift. That all is to it" ronal quickly tells. As Tsahik, one of the main things to do is try to understand and interpret what Eywa's will is and repeat it to the people.

The time came, where neteyam and Syawn's children would have their communion with Eywa. Thousands of na'vi from many tribes came to witness it. To see for their eyes of three of a kind na'vi.

Neytiri took charge, smiling happily as she recites the words, as neteyam, syawn, and kiri were each holding one of the triplets.

Neytiri took her time on each child, gently holding their queue and connecting them to one of the hanging vines, feeling joy as she is reminded of her children's communion.

She makes eye contact with neteyem. Love and pride seep from her golden eyes, smiling proudly at her eldest son.

"I am so proud of you ma'itan" she says lowly. Neteyam smiles, "thank you sa'nok". She goes to syawn and they make eyes contact with the same love and pride.

"May Eywa bless you ma'ite, to live long enough to see your children thrive. Protect and love these beautiful children unconditionally" neytiri says. Syawn nods and smiles lovingly, "yes, with all my heart".

It was a beautiful sight. Kiri felt proud to be part of the communion, to see her brother and his mate smile and beam with joy. She knows Eywa feels the same, deep in her heart.

Seeing the three children's golden eyes light up, smiling in daze. She wonder's what the triplets are seeing. Maybe seeing their great grandfather, Eytukan, or someone else. But either way, she is happy to see them happy.

After the communion, the celebration was large and loud. Many still hand neteyam and syawn gifts. There was so many, it began to build a hill. From fruits, medicines, beads, necklaces, bands, bows, arrows, you name it. There was so much, the parents believed they wont worry about shortage. All the Olo'eyktan's and Tsahik's gave their blessings to the triplets. Their eyes now believing the expansion of Eywa's gift.

For what they witnessed will be told throughout time. That the future generations must know about this wonderful night.

By the end of the night, everyone was tired. Syawn and neteyam brought their children back home. Where its warm, safe, and cozy. The children themselves were tired and slept peacefully, the three holding each other and snoozing as one. The three tucked in their big soft bassinet and syawn rocks them gently.

Neteyam adds beads to their children's songchords, singing out their life story, even if its short. Now a new bead to add of their communion. Syawn doing the same, as parents seeing their children connection with their great mother for the first time. She adds three purple colored beads, different shades, one for each child. She sings of her love and joy into her songchord.

Neteyam and syawn hug each other once more, and once again looking down at their children. Love is all they feel for their little ones. As they can only hope and see what will become of their little ones. And Eywa wonders too, to see what her little three souls will do with her gift.

Aaaaaaaaaaand that is it for ch 2! I loved this one and I hope you all do! Until next time! see ya!

taglisht: @quirkyhero , @theunfortunateplace , @moonchildxoxx

Unyor = sweetly aromatic, (a flowery or aromatic woody sort of smell). (may also refer to some spices used in Na’vi cooking)

Ti'nong = blooming, unfolding

[silent-stories]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: you talk with Eddie before the final battle with Vecna.

I wrote this after more than a month of not writing anything and I don't know how to feel about it. Maybe it sucks, maybe not. Feel free to tell me.

You leaned your back against the van that Eddie had hotwired just hours before, sitting on the ground and distancing yourself from the others for a few moments.

One of your hands played with the blades of grass that covered the clearing where you had stopped to get ready for the final fight with Vecna, the other held a loaded gun.

If someone had told you a few years earlier that you would find yourself fighting monsters coming from another dimension with a group of children, that Nancy Wheeler would teach you how to shoot and that you would risk your life to protect a boy the whole city ​​believed to be a murderer, you would have laughed. You would have said it was impossible.

But now you found yourself there, watching those kids who you wished hadn't had to grow up so quickly sharpen spears and load rifles, wondering if everything would go according to plan that night.

You heard Eddie and Dustin's laughter and couldn't help but smile even though you had no idea what they were saying (you had always found Dustin's laughter extremely contagious and you loved his metalhead friend's smile, even if you wouldn't have never admitted it), your gaze then fell on Erica and Lucas, who gave a thumbs up when Eddie yelled to ask how it was going.

You knew you weren't the only one who was anxious about what would happen and what could happen, there were so many things that could have gone wrong that night and maybe, being alone with your thoughts hadn't been a good idea.

You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't make it go away or understand what exactly it was.

What if Vecna ​​manages to get Max this time? What if someone finds out Eddie is with you? What if the demo bats are too much to handle this time? What if you can't save Hawkings?

"Hey, are you okay?"

Out of fright, you almost raised your gun and shot. You were grateful you didn't.

Eddie cocked his head slightly to the side, probably studying your expression and trying to figure out if it was his presence that made you jump. "Did I scare you?"

You wondered if it was usual for him to think that he scared people, if it happened so many times that someone had a reaction like that when they saw him that he had come to think that he was the problem.

His kind brown eyes looked at you almost worriedly and you just couldn't understand how people thought he was a murderer, that he was scary.

"Well, I mean, didn't they ever tell you that you shouldn't approach armed people like this, Munson?" You asked with a smirk, leaving the gun on the ground.

He shrugged casually, secretly relieved that you didn't seem fazed by his presence, still standing in front of you as you looked up at him, “now that you mention it, maybe a cop, once.”

You chuckled, shaking your head slightly.

"Can i sit?" He asked, pointing to the space on the ground next to you.

As if you could ever say no to him.

"Sure. I'm not going to shoot you, if it makes you feel better."

He chuckled, the chain attached to his jeans jingling as he took a seat next to you and his shoulder brushed against yours.

"I had no idea you knew how to use a gun." He said.

“Can't a girl have a hobby now?”

He rolled his eyes, you glimpsed a smile that he tried hard to hide on his lips. "Jesus Christ, this girl is so rude."

You laughed at his comment, then the two of you stayed silent for a few moments, your gazes moving from your friends still talking to each other and sharpening weapons, to the sky clear thanks to the sun's rays that would soon give way to the darkness of the night.

“Do you think everything will be okay?” You asked after a while.

"Of course it'll be okay. And aren't you like... an expert at this stuff? Henderson said you've basically spent the last three years killing demogorgons."

You laughed. "I think he exaggerated just a little."

"And I think you're discrediting yourself."

You sighed. “Do you really think everything is going to be okay?”

"Yes, and then I can't die yet. I have... things to do."

The way he said it like it was something he said every day made you laugh out loud. "Things to do?"

"Yeah, it seems I haven't become a rock star yet and... I haven't asked you out yet."

"Oh. And when are you going to do that?"

"Well, you know, not many people like metal and at the moment we only play at the Hide-"

“I meant asking me out." You chuckled.

"Ohh. When we get out of this shitty situation and it's all over, 'cause my poor heart can only take one thing at a time." He raised a hand to his chest in a tragic manner.

“Your heart?”

"Exactly, what if you say no? I can't fight monsters and be disappointed in love in the same day."

You laughed again.

"Hey! I'm serious!" He lightly bumped your shoulder with his.

"I'm sorry!" You continued laughing.

Eddie snorted. “What's so funny?”

"Sometimes I wonder how your head works. I would have said yes, dumbass."

“Okay, I know I'm not the best and you definitely deserve someone much better than me but I promise- wait what?” He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly turning his head towards you, realizing what you had just said.

"I would like to go out with you." You made it clear.

He eyed you suspiciously. "You are not kidding me."

It wasn't a question, it was more like a hesitant statement, as if he had never expected such an answer from you.

"I'm not, I swear." You promised.

"Okay... okay. That's cool. That's great." He nodded as he spoke, maybe to you, maybe to himself, "the problem is, it's going to take time before... you know, we find a solution to the problem of the... murders. And I don't know when, I mean- I really don't know when all this-"

"Eddie." You stopped his rambling, "I'll wait. I'm not going anywhere."

He looked at you with that hesitant and uncertain expression for the second time.

“Stop looking at me like you don’t believe me,” you laughed, “I promise we have a date. When this is all over.”

You seemed to see him let out a small sigh of relief but you couldn't swear to it.

“So…pizza and movies after we save Hawkings?” He asked then.

“Pizza and movies after we save Hawkings sound great to me.”

He chuckled, it wasn't even the weirdest conversation he'd had in the last week.

You hadn't even realized that during your brief talk with Eddie, that weird feeling in your stomach that made you think something was going to go wrong that night was almost gone. Almost.

Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe everything would have been fine and no one would have gotten hurt.

And now you had a date after you came back from the other dimension under Hawkings.

It didn't sound crazy at all.

Steve appeared before you with the expression of a mother scolding her children on his face, hands on his hips. "Are you two done? We have a town to save."

Eddie rolled his eyes, stood up and held out his hand for you to help you do the same.

"Are you ready for the most metal concert ever?"

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

[stevesworld96]

look at me now (part two)

--- steve harrington x fem!reader

steve visits you before the vecna fight.

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, kissing, cliches, a lot of emotions, depression and suffering etc, mentions of death and injuries, steve retells canon events and deaths, 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 one!!!

word count: 9280

-

Steve didn't call you the next morning.

You waited until noon. By that time morning was officially over, and your phone still hadn’t rang. 

It was hard not to be upset about it after what happened the night before. You were just about to kiss him, and he knew it. Maybe after a night of sleep, he woke up regretting it. 

Maybe that’s why he didn’t call. 

If you didn’t talk to him, you would go mad with assumptions. If you thought about it long enough, you’d break your own heart. 

It wasn’t that big of a deal. Steve could be forgetful. It’s possible that it slipped his mind, or Robin was still feeling unwell. 

But if there was some other reason, you needed to hear it as soon as possible. 

Before your evening shift at Roses you stopped by Family Video. You visited him there often, so he wouldn’t be amiss seeing you - hopefully. 

When you walked into the video store, the sound of the bell had four heads snapping in your direction. You searched for the eyes you came here to see, and you didn’t notice the rogue tape on the floor that caught your foot. Robin, Dustin, Max, and Steve watched you trip, and you stuttered back to steady feet. 

The two kids were behind the counter at the computer. There was a mess on the floor. Everyone was staring at you like you had turned into something terrifying after walking inside. 

The three of them started whispering to Steve, Robin being the loudest. You caught, “go make her leave,” and, “why is she here?” 

And you didn’t understand, and Steve was shuffling toward you like a fast-paced robot, and something felt seriously off. 

Still, you smiled at him, something forced. “Hey.” 

“Hey. Look - we - we’re closing early today, so…” 

He was trying to walk you toward the door. You wanted to know why. 

“Oh, well - I just wanted to come see you before work. You didn’t call like you said you would.” 

“I know, I know.” He looked over his shoulder at the group behind him. They all made different faces and shooing motions. “You need to go, alright? You can’t be here right now.” 

“Steve?” 

You had made it to the door and he opened it for you. And he was giving you no sympathy in the way he looked at you, his features hard as stone. 

“Did I - is this about last night?” 

“No. It’s nothing to do with you, okay?” You didn’t believe him, and he didn’t try convincing you. Instead he pushed you through the threshold. “Just go. Go to work, I’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Why are you doing this? Just tell me, Steve, seriously. I can handle it.” 

The way he sighed was dramatic, closing his eyes and hanging his head, but it was real. Annoyance and frustration, that’s what it was - two things he never directed at you. At least, not anymore. 

“Please. Just listen to me, for once. Please just go. I can’t talk to you right now.” 

You didn’t have a choice, really. The other option was standing there and arguing with him, and you had a feeling he didn’t have a fight in him. 

So you left. You heard the door close as soon as you turned your back. 

He didn’t even watch you go. 

The closer you got to your car, the more your throat burned. It was all a literal blur, with tears creating clouds in your vision. 

Visiting him had done the exact opposite of your goal. It made things worse, somehow, even though everything was fine five minutes ago. 

What the hell had happened between last night and right now? What could you have done?

Did Steve change his mind that fast? 

You thought about last night and the way that you felt. Your hands shaking, heart beating, mind racing - it was the same now, but with a pit in your stomach and tear tracks on your face. 

It didn’t seem fair. He didn’t have to be so cold. 

Why were they all being so cold? 

Maybe you had walked in on some important meeting. Max could have been telling them a secret, or Dustin could have been indulging an embarrassing story - or Steve could have been telling them what you had done last night. 

That’s what he meant when he said he didn’t want to fuck things up. Because he knew how you felt - because you weren’t hiding it at all - and he didn’t feel the same. 

And that’s why he didn’t call - because he was afraid to tell you. 

Because everything would change. Again. 

You felt it already in the way he looked at you. It wasn’t the same as it used to be. 

And maybe it would only get worse. 

...

Sundays were always the same. That was the only thought that got you through the mess of the day before. 

No matter what happened throughout the week, there was always a reliable refuge on Sunday. 

But Dustin’s bike wasn’t in its usual place on the edge of Steve’s yard. And Steve’s car wasn’t in his driveway. 

You were too shy to call, even though you knew he wasn’t home to pick up. Part of you wanted to call Family Video in case he’d taken a shift - just to hear his voice - but you couldn’t bear it. If you embarrassed yourself in front of him again, you’d never live it down. 

The worst part was knowing this could be all in your head. You could be putting yourself through emotional hell for nothing. 

But you had a feeling that wasn’t the case. 

Monday morning there was still no sign of Steve. 

It was like there was something pent up inside of you that you could never get out - is this how he felt when you spent a week avoiding him? Confused, and lonely, and hurt? 

All you wanted to do was go back in time and stop yourself from ruining everything. 

Tuesday night brought a simmering heat that you wanted to boil over. The sadness ebbed, giving you a break from your self loathing and doubt, making room for a burning anger. One so hot it brought you to tears. 

It was all so unfair. He spent so long convincing you he cared, only to show you unequivocally that he didn’t. 

And you never should have let him back in, and you definitely shouldn’t have gotten close enough for your heart to break. 

You tossed and turned for days, blaming yourself then him, never able to make up your mind. 

More and more, it seemed like nothing mattered. There had to be something he wasn’t telling you. You couldn’t change anything, even if you kept crying or hoping or overthinking. You had given up hope that he would simply turn up at your door. 

Of course, you still wished he would. 

It was Wednesday evening when you finally got what you wanted. 

The sun had just barely set, bathing that spring day in a light navy that was destined to get darker. That’s when a knock echoed from your door and you found Steve’s apologetic eyes behind it. 

As you looked at him, the emotions you felt through the week rewinded. Acceptance, dread, anger - denial, shame, sadness - it all ran through like rushing water, leaving you with a pounding heart and unsteady hands. 

Your lips parted for no words to pass through them. He was getting uncomfortable under your stare so you dropped it to the floor and rebuilt your resolve. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I really needed to see you.” 

His voice wasn’t soft. It was almost demanding, the way he said it. Urgent. 

“Can I come in?” 

You didn’t reply; you turned and walked inside, expecting him to follow. Heavy footfall echoed in your hallway stalking you to your kitchen. 

You kept your back to him because you didn’t have the energy for a face-off. You’d rather pretend to look interested in the newspaper that sat on the counter in front of you. 

“What’s up?” you asked, playing nonchalant. 

“I really don’t have a lot of time,” he said. You heard him tapping the marble kitchen island countertop. 

“Okay…” 

“I know you’re mad. I know I forgot to call, and I’ve been gone, but I can’t explain anything. Not right now, maybe… not ever.” 

“Then… why are you here?” A genuine question.

“Because -” 

A crack in his voice brought silence that was louder than a crowded room; one where you could hear his deep breathing stutter. 

He was probably trying to find the right thing to say. Something that would make you forgive him instantly - words sweeter than a bouquet of flowers and an apology letter. You already decided you weren’t going to fall for it. 

“Because I needed to see you. That’s it.” 

“Steve.” 

“Can you look at me? Please?” And it wasn’t urgency this time, but desperation. 

You turned to face him but your gaze stuck to the floor. He planted himself on steel toed combat boots that you had never seen him wear before. 

“I know you’re pissed off and I know it’s unfair, but can you pretend to not be? For two minutes? Because I - I didn’t come here to fix it. But I had to see you while I had time.” 

It had you sneaking up his frame, curiosity taking the place of boldness as you put together the pieces of what he was wearing. 

He looked dressed for war, or to go play pretend army man. 

Dark green cargo pants that would have been too big without the tight belt tying them to his waist. 

Some kind of kevlar vest was over the brown leather of a jacket with patches all down the arms, all of them representing something American militaristic. 

Dirt coated fists, up to his wrists and you were sure passed. On his face from his ears to under his eyes, his forehead down to his neck. 

His neck, a nasty welt wrapped all the way around it twice. Dark red in its obvious freshness, splotchy in a need to be cared for, cleaned, disinfected. It looked like he had gotten into something bad, and there were no clues for who had given him such an ugly injury.

You stared, and your nails cut your palms, and you spoke too loud when you said, “What did you do?” 

He knew what you were referring to, looking down as if he could see it. You watched as his lips tried to form words of defense that never came. 

“Did you - did you -”

“No.” 

“Steve.” 

“If I told you what happened, you wouldn’t believe me.” 

“Tell me.” 

“Next time I’m here, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.” 

You hadn’t noticed you had stepped closer to him until you had his eyes in yours, looking at you like he meant every word. 

“You’re scaring me, Steve.” 

“I know. I know, I’m sorry.” 

He checked his watch, then sighed. 

He stuttered over his words like he didn’t know what he was saying. “We - Robin and some others, we’re - we’re - we’re going out of town tonight. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’ll let you know, okay? I’ll call you.” 

“I don’t understand -” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey, I’m sorry.” He rubbed at his eyes for a second, like he could buff out the stress in them. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. 

Your concern only grew as he took a small step backwards. 

“Steve, you - can’t you just stay here with me? Why do you have to go?” 

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry, okay?” It sounded like he was trying to soothe himself rather than you. “I’ll be back.”

You called his name, trying to stop him, but he turned from you. 

“I won’t forget to call you this time, okay?” 

You took those steps toward him, you reached out to grab him, but he walked out of your reach. When he got to the doorway, he stopped. He stood still for just a moment, and then he was turning again. 

He looked like he had made a decision, and then he was coming back to you. 

And when he was in reach, you took hold of him. You pulled him in and he was all around you, hugging the life out of you, trying to squeeze all the worry out of you.

You pulled away just enough to look at him. His jaw fit in the palm of your hand like you were his mold. You held him as gently as you could, and you pulled him in, and you didn’t stop pulling until his lips hit yours. 

It was a kiss that should have happened days ago - maybe a long time before that. One that was brand new but still familiar; you could smell his cologne underneath leather, you felt his hands on your waist squeezing tight. 

You kissed him only just, and you felt overwhelmed with how much emotion you were trying to pour into it. 

When you pulled away, big hands held the sides of your face and brought you back. Your neck craned so he could kiss you how he wanted to for a second time; a messy mesh that made things feel okay, just for that moment. 

And it didn’t last long enough, because nothing so good ever did. When he broke it off he dropped his hold on you and walked away, slowly and then too fast. And that was it, and he was gone, and you wanted to chase after him but you were stuck where you stood. 

+

It wasn’t fair. 

I needed to see you, he had said, but he couldn’t even give a reason. You had no idea how selfish he was being. 

You wouldn’t even look at him. And when you did, it was like you were scared of him. And you were angry, and he couldn’t fix a fucking thing - not when the weight of this town was on his shoulders. 

He wiped the taste of you off his lips and pulled on the winnebago’s door until it creaked open. 

Because I may never see you again, is what he wanted to say. He wanted to give you a reason. He wanted to rip himself apart, there in your kitchen; show you the fresh wounds and the healed scars and the blood stains. He wanted to fall and cry and forget, without feeling bad for hoping you’d catch him. 

He walked into that god awful RV, sat in the driver’s seat, and started driving without so much as a second thought. 

And he was scared even though he couldn’t be. It was like his heart skipped a beat - he felt it falling out of his chest, into his stomach. A flash of cold crept up his spine until his hands were ice. Open wounds on his back, chest, arms all throbbed, drumming a beat that was fiercely alive. A reminder he appreciated. 

A deep breath was all it took, and every punch he had ever thrown played in his mind. Every swing, strike, and scream. All of them landing back on him.

He’d do it all again, tonight, because he had to. He didn’t sign up for it. And it wasn’t fucking fair. But he made his choice, and this was it. 

And this time, Steve didn’t know who would come out of it alive. 

So maybe it was selfish to ask the group if he could make a pitstop at your house when there was something bigger looming. And maybe it was unfair, because nobody else got to say their just in case goodbyes. 

But he wouldn’t feel bad. He couldn’t, because every time he closed his eyes he was being dragged underwater, he felt that bat’s tail tightening around his throat, he heard the sound of teeth digging into his own flesh. 

It was that jolt of helplessness, all over again, ten times worse. 

It was nobody coming to help him. 

It was being left for dead, to rot in the stomach of monsters he couldn’t fight off. 

He could hear his own last words. 

And he saw Robin at your front door telling you what happened with no explanation. You asking questions that would never be answered - being angry at him forever, because he didn’t call like he said he would. He saw you living without him - himself dying without you. 

But he opens his eyes, and he’s still here. Driving down a winding road to some place that might be the death of him and all his friends. And he’s still breathing, and he feels you holding him like he’s worth more than the dirt and blood he’s covered in, and it’s enough. It has to be.

… 

You wondered if your lips would ever stop buzzing - if the butterflies in your stomach would finally die. Neither happened by morning, and you were sure you were cursed to feel them forever. 

There was no sense to be made out of the conversation you had with Steve the night before. The army gear he wore was confusing enough - the wounds he had and the words he spoke had your mind going haywire. 

And you could do nothing but wait, and ask yourself the same questions. You spent your time finding distractions and not thinking too hard. 

One day turned into two, and missing him never got comfortable. Concern sat in your chest like a rock. You couldn’t even look in the direction of his house without a chill going up your spine, and you had to sleep with the radio on to keep your mind from racing. 

You couldn’t think. You didn’t want to. 

Because - what if he wasn’t coming back? 

You didn’t know, but you really wished he would have taken you with him to wherever he was going. If he was running away, he should have known you’d want to go, too. 

Two days turned into four.

You weren’t okay until you saw him again. 

It was his car pulling up in front of your house. You were out checking the mailbox when you heard the sound of an engine; you glanced over your shoulder, not expecting it to be his car, but when you realized, it felt like you had been run over by it. 

Mail landed on the grass as your slipper caught the curb. His door opened and you were there, already on him, bouncing on your toes to wrap yourself around his neck. He caught you. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” You breathed the words out. “Oh my god.” 

“I’m sorry,” but he didn’t sound it. He sounded happier than ever. 

It was purely opposite to how he spoke to you days ago. The grim in his words was gone, as was the grime. He was clean, and he had slept, and he was right there in your arms. 

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” you said. You didn’t notice you were crying until you saw tears dripping into his sweater. “You aren’t leaving again.” 

He wobbled around until you were pressed up against his car door, your hug becoming even tighter. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not leaving, I promise.” 

“Never,” you said, and he laughed. “What happened, Steve? Are you going to tell me?” 

You pulled back just enough to look at him, and you found him with his eyes shut tight. 

“No.”

The wound on his neck was more of a bruise, now, dark reds and purples painting his skin like a necklace. You wondered how long it would be there - if there’d always be a scar. Time would tell. 

He continued, “No - not right now. I don’t want to talk about it,” and you pulled him back into you, hugging him tight. “Not yet.” 

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said, offering the patience he was asking you for. “I don’t care. Just don’t scare me like that again.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m so happy. Missed you so fucking much, you have no idea.” 

You wondered if you could stand right there in the street hugging him forever. In his arms, til the end of time, letting cars drive by and the seasons change around you, nothing ever pulling you apart. Never having anything between you again. 

“Stay with me tonight,” you said. It was quiet, and it was a desperate beg. “Please. Can you?” 

“I don’t know...” 

He was pulling back and you didn’t want him to, but the way his big hand held your face had you reeling. 

“I’ll stay as long as I can.”

“Just one night?” 

He was pushing your hair back like he wanted it out of the way - like he needed it out of your face so he could get a better look at you. And his eyes roamed over you like it was the first time he’d ever seen you. 

“I want to. I have to check on Dustin, later, and Nance - and Max, in the morning.” 

You shoved your face back into his shoulder. He was here, but he wasn’t here to stay. And he had no answers for your questions. And, maybe, he wasn’t going to kiss you again. 

Is that why you had a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach? Is that what you were so afraid of? 

You didn’t understand what he was going through, and he wasn’t helping you to. 

Maybe you didn’t have to know, or it wasn’t your place, but you ached with a need to help him. Curiosity ate at you, and the weary way he spoke kept feeding it. 

But there was nothing you could do. You had started getting used to that feeling.

So, “Okay,” you said. Because you couldn’t push, you couldn’t ask. It was easier for him if you didn’t argue, and that’s what he needed. Something easy. 

“Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re pouting.” 

“I’m not.” 

He laughed, something real and cute, and it had a smile starting to stretch on your face. 

“I know you are. I know you.” He was speaking right into your ear; his quiet voice was the only thing you could hear. His voice was the same as always, stoking the flames in your heart and smothering the ones in your stomach. “Let me see.” 

“I’m not pouting,” and you pulled your smiling face from where it was hidden. You pulled out of his hold, catching both his hands in yours. “Are you gonna come in?” 

“I was thinking about it,” he said. So you led him inside. 

… 

And you hoped beyond it all that the week would be nothing but a blip in time, but it didn’t seem like things would go back to normal any time soon. 

If Steve was distant before, he was miles away now. 

He was trying, but there was always something he wasn’t saying. You had no idea how to get it out of him even after spending every day with him. 

You didn’t see Robin again until you had already gotten used to the April showers, and she offered nothing more than meek smiles and one word answers during your hang out. 

You hadn’t seen Dustin at all. Erica, either. Sundays had become like any other day. 

Steve hadn’t mentioned the girl, but he talked about Dustin sometimes. Every few days he’d say he was going to check on him - for a reason you didn’t know. 

Max was in the hospital. Steve didn’t say the reason or how she was doing. But you knew that on the days he visited her, he left home early and got back real late. You gave him his space on those days. 

And then it was May, and nothing had changed, and you had gotten used to it. 

...

The nights were starting to get warmer, and Steve was grateful for it. He could sit out on his patio all night, with nothing but a hoodie and half a pack to get him to too late. 

He’d made a habit out of it without noticing. Out of staying up until three every night. Out of losing count of the stars in the sky. Out of chain smoking until he couldn’t hold his eyes open. 

He used to be scared of the dark. When he was a kid, it was the only fear he could fathom. And, recently, it terrified him. 

Now, he looked over his backyard, into the stretch of forest beyond it, and he didn’t feel a thing. If there was something hiding in the shadows, something he should be afraid of, it’d have to show itself first. 

He wasn’t wasting any more time being afraid of story book monsters that might exist, because he knows what fear is now. He’s looked it in its eye, and he’s felt it punching him in the face, and he’s heard it screaming his name for help. 

If it was dark all the time, Steve wouldn’t mind one bit. 

And then his patio door was sliding open, and he felt his heart in his throat. 

Maybe he wasn’t as tough as he thought. 

“Hey.” 

Your voice cut through the pounding. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in.” 

“No, it’s okay.” He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and shoved it up his sleeve, feeling a need to hide them from you - even though he had one tucked behind his ear that he was sure you could see. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

You sat with him, crouching down and getting as comfortable as you could on the wooden porch. He watched you fold your arms into yourself. 

“Getting some peace and quiet,” he said. “No jacket?” 

“Didn’t think you’d be outside,” you said. “Should I go get one?” 

He was already getting up before you could finish asking. He brought you a jacket and a blanket, and got himself a Coke. Better than beer, he figured. 

You grabbed all three from him. “How’d you know I was thirsty?” 

All he did was grin at you. He slid the door shut behind him, and then sat down against it, across from you. You were sitting too close for him to stretch his legs out; he kept them bent, his arms slung over his knees. 

Now that you were here, his thoughts weren’t the loudest thing in his head. You had always been like that - too noisy to let the quiet smother him. Most times, he appreciated that. 

It wasn’t helping now, though. Your tapping on the ground and the tune you hummed weren’t drowning out a thing. 

He couldn’t stop fucking thinking. 

You passed him the soda can, and he held it lazily between his bent knees. 

He didn’t even want it. He wasn’t thirsty. Really, he only wanted to light the cigarette you hadn’t spotted yet. 

“Are you okay?” you asked. 

He stared at the chipped paint under his feet. His teeth gnawed at the inside of his cheek, over and over at the same spot until it was bleeding. And, god, it was a familiar taste. One that made him sick. 

He tossed his head back and it hit the glass with a thud. He looked at you, once, and then passed you. At the rippling water in the pool. 

He stared at it. Stared and stared and stared, until he had to say something. 

“Do you remember when Will Byers went missing?” 

He wanted to see the reaction on your face, but he couldn’t look away from the water. He could see that night, the party, and what happened afterward. 

“Yeah… our junior year, right?” 

He gave a barely there nod. 

“It was Will, and then it was Barb.” 

He looked to his lap, but he was still seeing that fucking night. He saw the blood in Barb’s hand, and he heard the hurt in her voice, and he remembered not caring at all. 

“Fuck. It’s all so fucked up.” 

He didn’t care when he should’ve, and now it’s useless. It doesn’t matter if he cares or not, but he wants to rip his fucking heart out, anyway. He wants to go back in time and do it all over again, even if it would lead to a disaster. Even if it would change everything or nothing. 

And he shouldn’t be so upset about it, because it doesn’t make a difference. Not anymore. He could be as careless as he wants, now, because no one is around to be hurt by it. 

“Why are you thinking about that, Steve?” 

“Because that’s when all this shit started.” 

He spoke without thinking, words falling out of his mouth like a running faucet, because he didn’t have the energy to keep a secret anymore. 

It started with Barb, but it didn’t end with her. Or with Billy. Or Hopper, or Chrissy - and, maybe, not with Eddie. 

And how many others had been taken in between? 

His throat felt tight; he coughed through it. He sat the Coke between his feet, and realized his lighter was there, too. 

He brought a palm to his eyes. “You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you. It’s - it’s fucking unbelievable, but it’s all true.” 

“Steve.” 

“It’s stupid.” 

“You can tell me.”

He was getting overwhelmed. His breaths started to stagger on top of each other, making it hard to catch even one. Tears welled in his eyes as he squeezed them shut. It was all too much - he needed to get it out. 

Because nothing between you and him would ever be normal if he never stopped hiding this from you. What, was he going to hide his scars from you forever? Or never explain why he didn’t sleep at night? Would all of his weapons be excused away as decorations?

No - he wanted to let you in. 

“It’s all so fucking stupid.” 

He was laughing, and you must have thought he was fucking crazy. 

“Barb - she was here that night.” 

“What?” 

“This is the last place she was seen. And I just acted like it wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t care, even when I found out she was missing.” 

And he felt like an open fucking wound; the still healing rips on his torso leaking blood, too much for his shirt to absorb. His head throbbing, his eye swollen shut. Iron in his mouth, on his fists, pooling around him. Something wrapped around his throat. Bile filling it. He hadn’t healed. His injuries were all still there. 

“And I show up to Jonathan Byers’ house, and I knock on his door, and I knew - I fucking knew something was wrong. Like, seriously wrong. And I forced Nancy to let me in, and I didn’t run when they told me to. And I should have just fucking listened.” 

He thought about Barb, Billy, Chrissy, Jason, Eddie. All of them, victims to the thing he’s had nightmares about for years, and he can’t stop his first thought: I’m just glad it wasn’t me. 

But it’s the thought that comes after that he keeps getting hung up on: Should it have been?

“I don’t know what they said about Will. I don’t know what excuse they made up, or what you think happened - if he was lost in the forest, or - or if he ran away, but none of it is true. He disappeared. He wasn’t here anymore. He was gone - literally, gone. In another dimension. Literally.” 

Steve couldn’t know if you were understanding - if you were even capable of believing something so unreal. But you had to. You had to know. He’d been carrying around this secret, and it was the biggest thing in his life. 

Because he wanted to. Because he loved you. He wants you to love him - to understand who you’re loving. 

“Whatever you think about all the shit that happens in Hawkins… they say it’s a curse, or whatever, but - you don’t know the half of it. You don’t know any of it. It’s not a curse. It’s just a coincidence. If it didn’t happen in Hawkins, it would have happened somewhere else.” 

You still hadn’t said anything. You just sat there, staring at your hands in your lap. Steve wasn’t sure if he appreciated the silence or not, but he wasn’t used to it. 

“Will went missing. And a girl showed up. Eleven. El. You’ve seen her with Mike, or Max. You know her. You know Hawkins Lab? That’s where she grew up. She’s not just some girl, she’s - she’s someone’s science experiment. She’s got psychic powers. I’m not kidding.” 

“What?” 

There it was - the tilt in your voice that told him you didn’t believe a damn thing, and he didn’t blame you. 

And he laughed. 

“I swear.” 

“Psychic powers, like…?” 

He grabbed the Coke and took a long drink over a smile. He was looking at you like this was something casual. 

“I’ve seen her lift a car with her mind,” and he shrugged with it. The can rang on the floor; you picked it up and took a drink. 

You said nothing, and Steve felt like he was retelling a movie plot rather than his own life. It wasn’t a good feeling. 

“I don’t know what they were doing in the lab, but they - I don’t know. They opened a gate into another dimension. One just like Hawkins, but fucked up beyond belief. The Upside Down. That’s where Will went. It’s where Barb died. It’s where all your nightmares go to turn into spit soaked monsters, probably.” 

He pulled down his cigarette and rolled it back and forth between his fingers, digging his thumb’s nail into the filter. It was some old menthol crush, the last of its pack that he’d bummed at a party a few weeks back. He hated the way it stung the back of his throat, hated the taste it left in his mouth even more. The Marlboro Reds burned a hole in his hoodie sleeve where they were still hidden. Those smoked better - they were fresher, smoother. 

“Dustin comes up with these insane sounding names for all the shit that comes out of that place. Demogorgans. Demodogs.” He had to chuckle and roll his eyes at himself. “The Mind Flayer. That’s what wrecked Starcourt.” 

“The mall?” 

Steve nodded. 

“You said it was a fire.” 

“I lied.” 

“Then what was it?” 

He put the menthol between his lips. He hated the mint, but he always cracked the capsule, anyway. Someone told him it was bad luck not to.

He stared at you, and he wrapped his teeth around the cigarette filter. His jaw tensed with a bite. It popped, and he grabbed his lighter, and he didn’t look away from you. 

And then he got into it. He told you about Dustin hearing Russian being spoken over his radio. And how he learned how smart Robin really is, when she translated the words and then understood the secret message they were relaying. He explained how they’d gotten Erica to sneak into the air vents, and how that led to all four of them sneaking into a storage room that turned into a sinking elevator. 

He told you about the Russians, about how they were opening their own gate. He told you about getting kidnapped by them, and all the ways they had made those few hours hell. 

He didn’t spare the details, because he was tired of downplaying it all. And in that bunker, he thought he was dead. He shouldn’t have to tiptoe around that. 

And he told you about the drug they’d given him and Robin, and how he would be dead if it wasn’t for Dustin and Erica, and how fucking scared he was even after he got out. 

And they got out, and then he was driving a car straight into Billy fucking Hargrove, and then all of them were fighting something that looked bigger than the entire sky. 

And he doesn’t know how he remembers it all so clearly. 

“And then it was over… and I called you.” He still hadn’t lit his smoke - it’d been hanging from his lips the whole time he spoke. 

You stared at him like you were trying to find his missing pieces. Glass coated your eyes and worry wormed its way between your brows, and Steve hated it. He wasn’t telling you any of this so you’d feel bad. He didn’t want you crying for him, or at all. 

He laughed only just. “And you had no idea what you were picking me up from.” 

You breathed in a loose sniffle. “No shit.” 

Scratch, rip, hit -

Scratch, rip, hit - 

Scratch, rip, hiss.

A flame lit up his face as tobacco started to burn. Nasty numbing mint chilled his throat as he puffed out his chest, and he held in a cough on the exhale. 

He held the lighter loose in the air, between his raised knees. 

“Do you believe me?” 

“I don’t believe you could make any of that up.” 

“I’m sorry I never told you.” Mumbled words were barely heard over the scratch, rip, hit as he played with the Bic like a toy. And he didn’t sound all too sorry - he sounded tired. 

Wind ripped through the night and carried smoke and ash with it. 

“What about spring break?” 

He looked up at you. “What?” 

“Spring break,” you said again. You looked down from his eyes to his neck, where shadows of a bruised scar remained. “Something else happened, didn’t it?” 

Somehow, in the reminiscing of fights past, he’d forgotten about everything most recent. That was the only way he could forget about it - by thinking about all the shit that came before. 

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, redundant answers easier to give than an explanation. Listening to the scratch, rip, hiss, watching a flickering flame, breathing in more smoke. 

He let go of fidgeting with the lighter to pull the cigarette from his mouth. He exhaled smoke then hit it again; he held the hit so long that what he breathed out was thin. 

And as he ashed his cigarette, he decided he didn’t want to get into it. He didn’t want to replay those events like a story. So, again, he said, “Yeah.” 

“What happened?” It wasn’t a push - Steve appreciated the concern you had. 

“Same as always. It was a fight. It’s… it’s supposed to be over now. Really over.” 

He remembered it like it was yesterday: setting Vecna aflame that caught all of The Upside Down with it. The whole place burned, from its vines to its crumbled buildings to the monsters in the sky. The gates closed themselves like they had never been open. 

And it was over, even if it was too late. 

“The Upside Down is gone. It should be. Hopefully. But… I was lucky to get out. Some of us didn’t.” He shrugged, like it was casual. He stared at the cherry on the cigarette, burning bright orange. 

And he couldn’t keep talking, even though he knew what part came next. He knew what words he had to say. But he couldn’t. 

It seemed you caught on enough, because you said them for him. “Max?”

He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt, holding back tears he’d already cried before. 

“She’s been in a coma since,” he said. “I didn’t know how to tell you.” 

“But you’ve seen her?” 

His response came hesitant. “I’ve tried,” and he wanted to leave it at that, so no cries came after, but his mouth kept talking. “Robin goes in. I can’t even make myself get out of the damn car.” 

All he felt was shame, but he swallowed it. 

“You heard about Chrissy Cunningham?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It wasn’t Eddie Munson who killed her.” You nodded - Steve figured you understood what he meant enough to spare the details. “Eddie - god, Eddie would’ve died for her. He would’ve died for anybody. He died for this fucking town.” 

Another pull from the smoke that was almost gone. Breathe in, breathe out. 

“He was a dumbass. A freak - a fucking idiot.” He wished Eddie was listening to him - Steve wanted him to hear all the insults he was throwing his way, because they were all true. It was stupid the way Eddie died. He shouldn’t have. 

“And Dustin’s been a mess ever since, and there’s nothing I can do. Robin’s a bigger wreck than she used to be. No one’s handling it.” 

“How are you handling it?” 

And Steve didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t sure he had one. 

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t lying - he was fine. Somewhere between good and bad, coping through flashbacks and nightmares. He wasn’t lost in it. He was dealing. 

“Steve…” 

The last drag from his barely there cigarette burned hot, and he savored the pull until his lungs were full. He didn’t empty them until he stood up, and he looked around for the ashtray. 

His words were smoke. “Do you want to go in? It’s late.” 

He found it on the table, stubbed out the cigarette, and then he stuffed the hidden pack into his pocket. 

You repeated his name behind him, and he ignored you. And then your hand was on his back, and you were pulling him in before he could hear you coming. 

It was a tight hug he had to fight out of just so he could turn and reciprocate. His arms around your shoulders were just as tight as yours around his waist.

“I’m sorry.” It was a whisper he didn’t even know he was breathing out, until he was repeating it into your hairline. “I had to tell you. I needed you to know. I’m sorry.” 

Your response was muddy, spoken into his shoulder. He laughed and pulled back enough to look at you. 

“What?” 

“Don’t say sorry.” You wore a grumpy look, your words were demanding, and Steve laughed some more. “Why are you laughing? Stop.” 

“Because you’re funny.” His thumb smoothed out the worry between your brows and put them back where they belonged. “And really cute.” 

You pressed your cheek into his chest. “I’m being serious. I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

“Yeah. Me too, believe me.”

A kiss on your forehead had you squeezing him tighter, and he ignored how tender the injuries on his back and stomach were. They were just barely forming scars, but the way you hugged him had him feeling like they weren’t even there. It made him feel special. He felt better. 

So he kissed your skin again and willed himself to tamper the thoughts of when he was kissing your lips instead. “Let’s go in, honey.” He pulled you loose from him. 

It seemed like you had a realization, then; your eyes went wide and you looked at him like you couldn’t stop. “That’s why you came to see me that night - because…” 

You trailed off, maybe not knowing what to say, and Steve wasn’t sure where to pick up. He could tell you the suffocating truth, or a less embarrassing lie. 

Something in between, “Because I needed to.” 

“I didn’t know it was that serious,” you said. “I mean - I knew there was something really wrong, but… I didn’t know - I didn’t think that could be our first and last kiss - I didn’t know you could’ve died.” 

“I wasn’t trying to scare you. You weren’t supposed to think that.” He felt bad, but he didn’t regret the visit. “And, technically - it was our first and second kiss.” 

You breathed a laugh as your forehead fell into the crook of his neck. “I hate your technicalities.” 

He laughed, too, and the joy helped distract him from the anxiety running through him. 

He thought about that kiss every day - about how he made sure to do it twice, all because he wasn’t going to die without getting to kiss you a second time. Once wasn’t enough, so he took the second without any time passing. 

But he wouldn’t tell you any of that. He was scared to know how you’d feel about it. 

That’s why he hasn’t brought it up until now. Until you said something first. 

He pulled away from you again, really meaning to bring you inside this time because he hated having you out so late. But he froze when he saw tears on your lash line, looking like crystals clinging to your eyelashes. 

He swore he felt his heart break. “Sweetheart.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t cry - hey, don’t cry for me, alright? I’m right here, honey, hey.” 

He crouched down to be eye level with you and he sat on the table behind him. He cradled your face - you tried pulling away, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“If you would’ve told me the truth, I never would have let you go.” You spoke so sadly. 

“I know. I know, honey, but you don’t have to think about it anymore - it’s okay. There’s nothing to cry about.” 

Tears were still falling, and you were still mumbling through them. “I would’ve kissed you more if I knew you might not come back.” 

And he needed you to stop crying. He’d do anything - he’d confess all his feelings right there, if that’s what it took. 

“I was always coming back. I’m right here, you got me, look at me.” 

You shook your head but did what he said; he was wiping your tears with his sleeve, chuckling through the ache in his chest. 

“You think I was gonna kiss you then go get myself killed? No shot. What’d you think I was living for, huh?”

“That’s not funny, Steve.” But you were smiling. 

“I’m not trying to be.” He was smiling, too. “I mean it. Nothing would keep me from coming back to you, alright? I’m right here - you can keep me forever, I’ll kiss you as much as you want, just stop crying.” 

“I can’t help it.” You wiped your nose and squeezed your eyes closed, and it looked like your breathing was steadier. “Do you mean it?” 

“Which part?” 

“I can keep you forever?” 

“Of course.”

And he watched your cheeks swell into a smile you tried to hide. “And you’ll kiss me?” 

He had no idea how to be charming or sly underneath your gaze, so he wasn’t. Instead, he was a stuttering, shy, lovesick fool. 

“I - I mean, yeah - yeah, if you… want me to, I guess - I mean, I definitely want to, so - it’s up to you?” 

He didn’t even care if he sounded like an idiot, because that’s exactly what he was. And you knew it. 

“Obviously I want you to, Steve.” 

His thumb pressed into your cheek. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Obviously, huh?” 

He was obsessed with your smile, addicted to feeling it grow into his palm. 

“I’ve only been sending signals for months, but you haven’t caught any of them.” 

“Oh, I’ve caught them, alright - was just waiting for the right moment.” 

“Like right now?” 

And, just like the first time, you kissed him. It was as soft as it could possibly be. Two smiles meeting after too long apart, his hands on your face, yours on his chest. 

He pulled away, then brought you back to him, tilting your chin so he could kiss you for real. He moved his lips and yours followed his lead. 

Your fingers crawled up and up until they were sneaking behind his neck, getting lost in his hair. He tugged you closer - your body was flush against his. 

He felt you everywhere; you stood between his legs, your chest and his were rising and falling with each other. 

Behind his closed eyes, he was in another world. He saw you pulling him in close, he felt your hand tightening around his, he heard your voice calling out his name.

He heard himself telling you every secret he’d ever kept. He saw the house he’d build for you, and the bed he’d sleep in with you, and the ring he’d give you. He saw it all.

It was heart racing. 

It was wanting to be with you forever. 

It was you wanting to be with him, too. 

And then you pulled away. 

And he opened his eyes. 

And you were right there in front of him, smiling just for him to see, and he felt like melting into a puddle. 

“You’ll kiss me as much as I want, right? Is that what you said?” 

God, he wanted to squeeze you like a stuffed animal - you drove him crazy. Absolutely batshit insane. 

He pulled you back in with both hands on your face and kissed you something awful - pressing against you hard, making sure to leave your lips glossy when he pulled back to laugh. 

“Just like that, as much as you want.” 

“Never again.” 

It was funny when you tugged away from him. Both of you were laughing, but he couldn’t take it. You weren’t getting far. 

“Don’t leave, it’s what you wanted!” 

He chased behind and it was quick when he caught you, right at the patio door. He turned you around and pressed you into the glass, and he kissed you again like he couldn’t help it - because he couldn’t. 

The way you kissed was new, and he already loved it, but he ached to know you. To know just how to get you to open up for him, to learn how to kiss you exactly as you liked. 

He would figure it out - he wouldn’t stop until he did. And he’d make do for the moment, leading the way through your shyness, not letting anything stop him. 

Your lips parted after enough convincing, and with your open mouth against his it was impossible for him to hold back the noise he made. A groan, or a growl, he wasn’t sure - but it had you whining back to him as he tasted your tongue. 

It was hot but it was slow, and there was nothing Steve wouldn’t give for it to last forever. Despite that, he broke first. 

“As much as you want,” he told you, speaking low, words scratched with something rough. “God, I’d kiss you forever if you let me, baby - however you wanted me to.” 

“Forever?” 

“As long as you’ll let me,” he grinned. “As long as you’ll keep me.” 

“I’ve already had you around for a while…” 

“Not like this,” he insisted. “At least let me get good at kissing you before you throw me out on the curb.” 

“You’re already good,” you said, kissing his jaw. 

He hummed, teasing. “Let me get better, then. Gotta get up to par with you, honey.” 

“What can I say? I’ve had a lot of kissing practice, babe.” 

He rolled his eyes, acting dramatic. “Oh, I bet you have, babe.” 

“Like you haven’t had your practice, too, honey.” 

“Okay - let’s stop bringing up the past, alright?” He tugged the glass door open behind you, then pushed you through it. Laughter filled his house as the door shut behind him. 

“You started it!” 

“I literally didn’t! You brought up your hours of practice!” 

“I never said it was hours!” 

“I’m filling in the blanks!” 

“Oh my god.” You were making quick steps to the stairs - he followed like a lost dog. 

“Is this our first fight?” 

You were halfway up the staircase when you turned and looked down to him, still stood at the bottom. The lighting around you was dim and your grin was blinding him. “Only if you don’t let me sleep over tonight.” Your hands were on your hips, your eyes were drawing him in. “And this isn’t our first fight. Our first fight was over a Snickers bar.” 

“And I don’t think we ever made up, now that I think about it.” 

He took the stairs two at a time to get to you, and he gave you his smuggest grin. 

“Really? We’re still fighting over it?” 

“Til the end of time,” he stated. “But I can look past our differences just for tonight.” 

“That gives me time to make it up to you.” 

...

Did you know everything about Steve Harrington?

You thought you did. You spent years believing it. 

You knew more about him than the average person, sure - but how could you have been so smug? How could you act like such a know it all? 

You learn new things about him every day, now. Even when you thought there was nothing left that you didn’t know. 

As it turns out, you knew next to nothing about him. And you liked it that way. It made doing life with him that much more exciting. 

You sat with him now in the passenger seat of his car. The morning sun cast everything in gold, making the day feel brand new. You watched as he tapped his finger on the steering wheel, making a terrible beat. 

He kept shaking his head back and forth, and you only just realized that you had noticed him doing it before. It was a nervous tick. It never stood out to you until now - something new.

“Are you okay?” 

He seemed to freeze at the sound of your voice, as if he had forgotten you were even there. 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” 

You took his hand and brought it up to your lips. 

He continued, “I don’t know if I can do this,” and he looked out the window rather than at you.

You squeezed his hand tight. “I know you can, baby. You did it last week.” 

“It was fucking hard.” 

“It’ll be easier this time. Why won’t you look at me, babe?” 

He did; his eyes were down turned and sad. 

You kissed his hand again. “You don’t have to force yourself, Steve. If it’s really too hard -”

“I have to. I know I do.” 

You gave him a sad smile, then sat up and across the console to kiss his cheek. He leaned into it, and you lingered there. “You’ll be proud of yourself. I’ll be proud of you.” 

“I know.” 

You turned his face toward yours, and he was nothing but stressed. “Are you sure you’re okay, Steve? It’s okay if you can’t push yourself today.”

He sighed loud, and you knew he was trying to be overdramatic. “I’m okay, honey. I just… get like this.” 

You giggled, “I know.” 

“I can’t help it.”

“I know, babe,” and you pressed your lips against his quick. “You’re okay. I’ll be out here the whole time waiting, okay?” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

You handed him the bouquet of flowers and bag of snacks from your lap. “Lucas is expecting you.” You passed him a stack of old books, ones Steve had picked from your collection that he thought Lucas and Max would enjoy.

He took them, and then he kissed you again, just for the sake of it. “Thank you.” 

He opened his door, and as he stepped out of the car, you found three words on the tip of your tongue threatening to fall out of your mouth - and you slapped a hand over your lips when you realized what they were. 

When he shut the door and you were out of the danger zone, you breathed a deep sigh of relief. 

You were nervous because of him. 

That was new, too. 

You watched through the windshield as he walked toward the hospital doors, and you said those three words to yourself, and tucked that new discovery into your back pocket. 

It was all new horizons with Steve, from there on out. 

He was brand new to you, and you absolutely loved him for it.  

-

part one!

thank u for reading. kiss

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

THREE

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.

Warnings: 18+. NSFW. Heavy themes. This chapter mention suicide.

Notes: The Snapchat name is made up so if there is a user with this name it's just a coincidence!

“How is he?”

“Ehm… They've put him in a coma for now…”

“What happened?”

“It was some accident in the garage. He got hit in the head.”

Robin sighed deeply but sounded more disappointed at his uncle than worried.

“Mom has called three times a day and talked nonsense. She forgets who's hurt, or she wonders why I leave my wife like this…” He laughed unamused, and I swallowed hard. I couldn't imagine what he went through.

“I can visit her if you want? Maybe she just needs some other company.”

Robin was quiet on the phone for a bit too long, and I started to wonder if he had hung up on me.

“Hello?”

“Yeah! Yeah, that's probably a good idea. But don't let her talk so much; she just gets upset and-

“You mean about your brother?”

The thought was never to force him to talk about Eric like that, especially not when he was worried and upset, but Eric was the only thing I could think about.

Robin was silent again, but then sighed deeply.

“Yeah, about Eric... You don't understand; she can be so upset that no one can calm her down. Sometimes they've even needed to use calming medications. It's not worth it. She's sick, she doesn't need that stress.

“But... it's her son.”

“I will not discuss this, Della. You don't understand," he said forcefully before hanging up in my ear. I made an offended scoff and looked at my phone. I understood he was upset, but I just wanted to help. Right?

I wonder if this meant I shouldn't go to Lotti. Maybe he didn't want me there at all if I showed signs of wanting to talk about his brother, but I had already decided that I would go to Lotti. She needed to talk about Eric, just as much as I did.

×××

I had another reason to go to Lotti. When I was there trying on her old clothes, I had left it all behind, so now I could just say I wanted to continue where we were forced to say goodbye.

She sat outside that day. It wasn't as hot that day, and small breezes played with her chestnut hair. She sat by the table we had been sitting by with Robin, and she looked a little tired and confused in her relaxed, light blue button up shirt.

“We heard from her son that there’s been an accident in the family?” Asked Fiona carefully before we walked up to Lotti.

“Yeah, her husband's brother. He's in a coma right now," I said with a serious look. It was sad, but I mostly felt bad for Robin.

“Oh, that's awful. I know he has talked a bit with her about it but didn't succeed, so we decided with him that we would just say he's on a trip.”

I nodded and then gave Fiona a sincere thank you. It was always amazing to meet people who really cared for others, and she seemed to be amazing with Lotti.

Walking up to Lotti, I waved my hand with a smile while I crossed the lawn to get to her. Lotti gave me a small smile and pulled out a chair for me.

“Where is Robin?” She asked at once, and I licked my lips in preparation for the lie.

“He's on a trip. With another friend of ours.” I smiled and sat down on the chair she had pulled out.

“And Max?”

“You mean Odin? He's at home; he can be home by himself for a few hours.”

Lotti nodded and looked around at the other residents with distaste. I had just met her twice, but that sort of judgmental face didn't feel like Lotti.

“Someone has stolen my shoes.”

I gave her a confused look and then looked around at the people.

“I think it's that bitch, Debbie. You should see her son, fat like a walrus, who came to visit her once and ate up all of Nikolaj’s birthday cake even if he wasn't invited,” she muttered to herself. It was obvious this day was a bad day, and I started to feel like I shouldn't have come.

“Ehm… Lotti, I just had some questions.”

My stomach twisted in shame, and I could feel my cheeks heat up. I should’ve just left her alone to rest, but I had too many questions. Eric had stolen both my heart and brain, and I needed answers, especially because of how realistic my dreams were. I started to question my own sanity, especially when I searched for the username on Spotify Eric, in my dreams, gave me and it existed and had lists full of punk, metal, and rap. It really looked like it could be his account.

“What was Eric’s girlfriend’s name?”

Lotti gave me a confused look but then seemed to search for the name in her head.

“Simone… Ehm, Davis, I think? Why do you wonder?”

I smiled, forced and shook my head.

“I just- maybe- I- Maybe I know her?”

Lotti didn't say anything, just gave me a strange look. It felt like the normal Lotti would have just been happy talking about her son, but now she looked at everyone with suspicion.

“Was his biological mother’s name Linda? Is she alive?”

I understood at once that this was the wrong question to ask because Lotti looked at me in rage and flew up from her chair.

“Linda was a fucking meth whore!! The only good thing she did was Eric, and he…”

I looked at her in shock and could hear nurses run to us behind me.

“Eric was the only good thing she did, but she had given him her awful, dirty habits! My son!! She destroyed my son!”

The tears had started to stream down her cheeks now, but she also huffed heavily, like it took all her power to scream.

“Lotti, Lotti…” Said Fiona and walked up carefully to Eric's mother, who gave her an upset but calmer look.

“I think it's time to rest now.”

Lotti looked at her first with protest but then breathed out tiredly.

“Yes, yes…”

Fiona gave me a quick look before the two of them walked in, and I tried to calm down my heart rate that had been raised by Lotti's behavior. I took some deep breaths. I felt awful over what happened and that I was responsible for it, but I also felt another bigger feeling that made my heart rate go up again.

Neither Lotti nor Robin had given me Eric's biological mother's name. It was just Eric. The same thing with the Spotify account.

How could a person in a dream give me new facts I hadn't even been close to having before?

×××

3.32 PM. 3.33 PM. 3.35 PM. 3.37 PM. 3.39 PM.

The clock ticked on and I looked at my phone like I had a reason to but I didn't. I laid on my bed staring up at the ceiling while Odin stood on the rug looking at me confused.

Eric. Eric. Eric. Eric. Eric.

He was the only thing I thought about. Everything from the memories from my dreams (his laugh, his sad eyes, the shyness behind the tough look, his kisses), the little others had told me but also the big question: What was real?

I had always had vivid dreams, dreams with a real plot and people with clear facial features but this was something else. I couldn't feel the difference between my dreams and what was happening for real the day before. The experiences were just as clear and in some way the dreams even felt more real because Eric awakened such big feelings in my body.

Could a dream be real? Fuck, I had really started to lose it because not only couldn't a dream be real but Eric was also dead. He even said it himself.

Fuck, no, he didn't, it was a dream. I had really started to lose it when I thought about “Dream Eric” as a real person, who could tell me he was dead.

I turned to my side and looked at Odin who whined and made some nervous steps. He needed to go out and as a dog mama I had no other choice than to go out with him. Maybe it would be good for me.

It felt like a hot day in late July when I went out the door, and Odin pulled on the leash as usual. He barked at two dogs, loudly and rudely, and it was a struggle getting him to shut up. I saw how the other dog owners judged me, and when the second one finally had their back against me I started to cry. It was all too much. I probably needed help for real because the only thing I had thought about the whole walk was that I needed to ask Eric how he had made Odin so calm.

Eric was dead. It was a dream. I need to understand that. The guy in my dream was an imagination created in a bored, lonely, love-starved person's head, from a picture of a beautiful, mysterious man. Maybe I needed medications for hallucinations. I started to cry even more and it made Odin whine and pull in the leash worriedly. I didn't care if they were hallucinations. The only thing I was really worried about was that I would never see Eric again.

×××

‘Simone Davis’ was a quite common name, and when I searched for her on Facebook and Instagram, I got so many hits that it wasn't even worth checking ten accounts.

I needed someone else to tell me more about Eric. It was obvious Lotti was too fragile, but she also had a mother's perspective. Robin didn't want to talk, and others had just heard rumors because Eric had never lived in this town. Simone Davis was the only thing I had to go by. I hadn't tried much before I found a Simone Davis that actually seemed as believable as it could be. I had just looked through Robin’s 800 friends on Instagram because it felt like I should, never really believing I would find her, but there the raven-haired beauty was. She had a picture where she stood with her long black nail against her burgundy lips, and you could see her tattooed arms just like Eric had. Her tattoos were better made, though, and had more artistic motifs. She looked like the girl; you were equally envious of her looks as you were afraid of her. Of course, Eric's girlfriend was a mistress of the night, not a thrift store loon like me.

I looked through her pictures; they were mostly selfies or pictures of records or abandoned houses. It was obvious she was a photographer, but her favorite subject seemed to be herself until four years ago, when a face I knew took over. I was forced to hold in my tears because I felt so stupid, lying in bed, hugging my big dog while crying over a guy I'd never met. But there he was, but in the last photos he wasn't. It was his face, but also someone else's. He was rail thin, and his face was sunken in. He had some sort of wound on his lip that was bloody but blue on the edges. I couldn't tell if he had dark circles around his eyes or if they were fading black eyes.

It was the junkie Eric. It wasn't hard to tell. He had his hood up in most of the pictures, and they missed the love and happiness the pictures she had taken before of him had. The earlier ones were bright, dreamy, and sexy. These were taken in the dark, unfocused, and many were really unflattering. It looked like he was high in some of the pictures with either an unsteady gaze or his eyes on their way up in his head. They were terrible pictures, and I cried with so many different feelings. It felt like I looked at the man I loved, all broken. I cried because I had never seen anything like it before, but I also cried over how loveless the pictures were. It looked like his girlfriend stopped loving him long before they broke up, and instead of taking flattering portraits of him, he was just a lifeless subject, an object she documented.

The last picture of him was a black-and-white one, with a crow sitting on his hand. He smiled proudly against the camera, full of happiness and life. He looked like the Eric I knew. Around him was a white heart, like a frame.

Don't do drugs, kids.

It was the only text under the picture, and I could see the picture was uploaded three years ago. It was her goodbye to him.

×××

Big green eyes looked at me. There were gold specs in them, like gold dust in a green forest river. It must have looked like that when they started to find gold in California.

I knew those eyes, framed with dark lashes and a hiding place for secrets. I knew those eyes.

I took in Eric's whole face, the pixie nose, how his lips had disappeared because of a broad smile, the dimple and the many tattoos. I threw myself around his neck in happiness and relief at seeing him again. I didn't even think about the fact that we were lying in my bed.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Said Eric with a laugh, but he let me hug him for a few seconds before moving away. I looked at him with confusion until I registered his bare shoulders and chest under the cover.

“I'm naked,” he said in such strong embarrassment that he covered his face with his hands.

I giggled in excitement and surprise.

“What? But I'm not?”

I wore a thin white tank top and a pair of silky pajama shorts. It was a regular sleeping outfit for me, it was even the same I had gone to bed with before waking up in my dreamland.

Eric dragged his hands over his face and made a sound of embarrassment, and I laughed at him.

“Fuck, you must have decided this. If this the kind of dream you invite me to, I expect some action.”

He looked at me teasingly, even if his cheeks were pink.

“I decided? I think you decided you wanted to show off!”

I said it with a laugh, but snuck closer to him and played with the edge of his cover. He gave my hand a look and smirked a little while scratching his brow over and over.

“I don't have any power over this, I just show up here!”

“So do I!”

“But it's me who came here naked!” He said it with a pointed smile. I laughed and pulled on the cover a bit.

“Maybe you should just roll with it then?” I pulled on the cover a bit more with a beating heart. “Show me…”

Eric stopped scratching his eyebrow and looked at me amused, but then pulled the cover from his body. His long body. I don't think I've seen anyone take up so much space in my bed. He was full of doodled tattoos, like someone used him as a bulletin board. Under the tattoos, he was so ripped that I felt my mouth get dry, but I had the opposite reaction between my legs. He didn't have a six-pack, but an eight-pack, and they traveled down to those sharp lines framing his shortly trimmed pubic hair and then down to his cock. He was half hard and bigger than anyone I've been with. It was pink, and visible veins crawled up to his adonis belt. Fuck. Fuck.

“Oh fuck…” I said with a moan, biting my lip. I didn't dare look at his face, and I didn't dare touch him. Instead, I just looked between his abs and his cock and pushed my legs together.

Eric took my chin and steered my face towards his. He smiled a little playfully, and I giggled with a blush.

“I've never been with a guy like you…” I whispered and dared to lay my hand on his naked chest.

“A guy like me?”

“Ehm…” I felt my blush intensify, and I didn't know where to start.

“The tattoos… Your body…” I giggled, embarrassed again, and looked away. Eric made an amusing sound and sat up completely against the headboard with spread legs. His cock was next to me now, and it felt like it was a third person in the room.

“Your size…” I said with a lower voice and looked from his cock to his face. Eric smiled proudly but was also a bit embarrassed and pulled his cock a couple of times.

“Isn't it your turn now? Give me a little show?” He said it teasingly and made me laugh, embarrassed. He looked at me for a while and smiled kindly.

“You don't have to,” he said, seeing my embarrassment turn to insecurity. I looked at him with love and sat down close to him so I could kiss his plump lips. It quickly turned into deep, passionate kisses, probably because the both of us were so horny. I dared to take my clothes off while we kissed because it felt so much more natural, and Eric pulled me easily up in his lap so I could straddle his thick thighs. He leaned back a little to be able to look at me, where I sat naked on top of him. I could feel his erection against the inside of my thighs, hard and hot, and I dragged my wet folds over his while leaning back on my palms. Eric made a heavy exhalation and looked at my hips roll over his member.

I bit my lip. I felt sexy under his gaze and let one of my hands drag down my chest to my sex so I could touch myself while his big eyes watched me.

“You're such a dirty girl…” he said with a deep, raspy voice, but let me continue. “Show me, show me your cunt, show me that little wet hole…”

I giggled, leaned back more, and spread my folds with two fingers. He made an aroused little whine that transformed into a roar before he attacked me, so I fell on my back. I made a little scream through my laugh while he kissed my face and neck. I dared to drag my hand over his pulsing erection, and when he made a bit of a pained sound, I looked up at his pretty face. He looked into my eyes, then down at my legs and between them, and pushed my thighs towards my belly. He looked up again, obviously seeking some sort of consent, and I nodded. I would have consented to anything.

He kissed down my chest and belly, and with surprising smoothness, he crawled down between my legs. I looked up at the ceiling, up at my turquoise rice paper lamp. I had him between my legs. Eric was between my legs, and I could hear him breathe heavily before he carefully started to give my folds open-mouth kisses. I closed my eyes, but a bark startled me at once. No, no, no! Would I wake up now?

“Odin! Go away!” Eric said it authoritatively, and I could hear Odin leave the room. I breathed out in relief and took a pleasant new breath when Eric started to kiss and suck my folds again. It was obvious he wouldn't stress this. He took it one thing at a time; he didn't touch my clit until his lips and tongue had tasted all the secret hidings in my pussy so when he started to massage it with the tip of his tongue, I felt close to an orgasm at once. He pushed his tongue hard against the bottom and shook his head side to side, but I didn't need more than a minute before I came over his face.

I couldn't stop moaning, dazed, and euphoric. I laughed, but it became a throaty moan again when Eric pushed into me determingly.

“Okay?” He just said when he had just pushed in, and I nodded but was completely overwhelmed by the intense orgasm at first, then how girthy he was. He held my arms over my head by my wrist while he pushed into me and searched for my eyes. When he was sure we could share the moment together, he started to move his hips skillfully, and I needed to use all my powers to hold my eyes open. It was intense. So intense.

×××

I was worried after that dream that I would never see Eric again, but the dream started to come every night. Exciting, amazing dreams. We visited his old school, his favorite park he used to draw in, and some cities I had visited when I traveled through Europe and Asia a few years ago. It was weird having places like the Eiffel Tower and the streets of New Delhi by ourselves, but in all my dreams, we were alone. We made love on a balcony in Barcelona without anyone seeing us. I sucked him off in front of the ducks in the park. It was like a dream. It was a dream. Or was it? I couldn't understand, and when I was home in my bed with Eric again, I felt a need to ask him some questions.

We laid naked next to each other. We stripped as often as we could when we were together, sometimes just to touch each other's skin.

“Where are you when you're not here, with me?” I asked carefully. He spooned me from behind, and I played with one of his big hands.

“I don't know,” he said shortly, and I could feel him shrugging. “I guess it's mostly dark? Sometimes I think I can hear someone talking, but maybe it's your regular life I can hear in some way?” He laughed a little in confusion.

“So you like, sleep?”

“The eternal rest, I guess.” He stroked my hair away from my neck so he could give me tender kisses there. I was quiet and let his kisses take over my thoughts. It was too depressing to think about. Too weird to think about. Eric was lying in a coffin under dirt. His body… I tried to get the thought away; the inner pictures were too awful.

After some more kisses, I could hear a growl in my ear. No, it wasn't Odin; it was Eric.

“Is the puppy here again?” I said with a laugh, and he licked my ear, and I was forced to lay a hand over it because it became too much.

Eric had a really playful side, especially under the foreplay. It wasn't a part of our lovemaking, but he loved acting like a dog or like he had never seen a woman's body before he gave me a hard pounding.

The puppy crawled up, so he stood on all fours over me and nuzzled the side of my neck and naked chest. When he lightly bit one of my nipples, I pushed him away. 

“Bad dog!” 

He gave me a big-eyed look but smiled playfully and then continued with playing and fighting me, like he was a dog who hadn't learned to play nicely. He made me laugh but was also, strangely enough, aroused. It was something so sexy in a man looking like Eric wanting to play that he was a puppy. 

××× 

“So you have slept more than 12 hours per night this week? That doesn't sound good at all!” Said Desiree while she put more sugar in her tea. 

She had come to me after work because she thought I was so bad at answering my phone. She was worried about me, while I didn't think much about my real life at all. I thought about Eric. My days were short, so I could meet Eric again. I went up, ate, took a shower, cared for Odin, and fantasized about Eric. Then I went to bed again to be able to talk about silly things like what really happens to a worm when you cut it in half, scream with music we had listened to as kids (Evanescence was great for it) and make love in all sorts of ways. I hadn't even thought about having a social life outside of my dreamland. 

“You miss Robin?” 

“Hm?” I looked at her confused until I realized what she meant. Robin was still with his uncle. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure. We hang out quite a bit, but mostly I'm just tired,” I said with a shrug. Desiree looked at me inspectingly. 

“You must tell me if it is something... I mean, you asked about Robin's junkie brother; are you taking drugs or something?” 

I made a little laugh and made a face. 

“Of course not! I would never! You know that! I don't even take painkillers!” 

“I know, I know. But you sleep too much. You should do something about it.” 

I shrugged my shoulders because I had no plans on sleeping less. The only thing I didn't know then was that my dream, playing puppy with Eric, would be my last dream about him. 

The first night, I thought it was maybe just that night, but when it continued, I started to cry myself to sleep, but Eric wasn't there to comfort me. Instead, I had the boring dreams I've had before the dreams about Eric, about rude customers, and about friends I hadn't seen for ten years. Eric was gone. 

I looked at my bed tiredly the fifth day. I hadn't slept a thing that night, and it felt like I never wanted to sleep again. I knew you died if you didn't sleep or started to eat your own flesh or something, but I wasn't afraid of that. In my darkest moments, I wondered if death was the answer to everything. Reunite with Eric in the land of the dead. After all, he was there, so if I wanted to find him, I was forced to join him there. I thought about methods to do it—taking pills, cutting my wrists, jumping in front of a train—when my phone rang. I looked at it and felt some sort of hope in me when I saw Robin's name. 

“Robin?” I answered quickly. 

“Hey! I'm on my way home!” He said it brightly, and I laughed in relief. 

“Oh, god! I missed you so much!” 

“Have you? You haven't called?” He said it with a laugh, and for a second I saw his brother in my head, laughing—the reason why I had neglected Robin. 

“I'm sorry, I've just had some trouble with my sleep. How is your uncle?” 

“He's good. He's awake and up, and yeah, he will be fine.” 

“That's so good. Oh my god, Robin... I missed you so much…” I said and cried silently for myself. 

××× 

I really tried to accept that everything with Eric was a dream. Sometimes the brain is weird and my imagination created something I needed right then and there. It was strange to think that the only person I really had been in love with was a creation in my brain, that the passionate sex we had was probably me masturbating in my sleep. It was also weird to think about what creativity my brain must possess without me knowing it. 

After two more weeks without Eric I decided to make a change and went back to work. Instead of my shorts and tank tops I wore long 70s skirts and airy 90s dresses. I knew I needed to act like I was okay to be okay. Robin cut my hair in my regular style so it looked fresh and cute again and after a month more I started to date a friend of one of my colleagues. Her name was Angelica and worked as a dog trainer and complained over Odin every chance she got, even if she couldn't discipline him either. In those moments I thought about Eric. I also thought about him when she went down on me and he was better at it, even if she shared the same anatomy as me. I continued to date her even if we didn't have anything in common. It felt like it was what I should do in this world. In a world without Eric. 

××× 

Angelica pulled on my dress and I looked at her irritated as we stood by the bar waiting for our turn. I had a short black lace dress on, and I knew she tried to say that she thought I needed to think about its length. When I leaned into the bar counter too much it rode up, and some lucky people could probably see my ass cheeks. To Angelica's horror I instead pulled it up a bit more so people could definitely see my ass and she pulled it down fast. 

“Fuck, must you be so uptight! It's Friday for fuck sake!” I said and got a pleased nod from a guy standing next to me. I gave him one back like we were members of the same club and Angelica rolled her eyes. 

“Can't you think about me a little? I don't think it's cool you do stuff like that when you're here with me!” She said over the music, quite loudly. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I said with a shoulder shrug. 

Angelica could be quite controlling and jealous and it had surprised me because she was a knockout. She was that kind of a girl who guys tried to turn and beg to be straight but she didn't want cock. She wasn't like me and could miss a cock when I was with a girl. She thought they were gross, just like the men attached to them. 

“Can't we go home instead?” She said and I looked around at the people in the club. I wanted to dance, even if it was bad music. 

“Can't we dance?” I asked with a sweet smile. Angelica looked at me sourly and crossed her arms. For a moment I felt forced to do what she wanted but then a remix of Video/Radio by System of a Down started to play and I felt my heart start to beat so hard it definitely tried to crawl out from my chest. Memories from a dream made my blood into fuzzy soda. 

“I must dance!” I just said, and jumped out on the dance floor alone and pushed my way forward to the DJs podium. 

I was good at dancing on my own. I pushed away every hand that caressed my skin, ignored every friendly smile, and moved away from every crotch that tried to push against me. I was in my own world, or in mine and Eric's. He danced silly, sometimes lost in the music, but he also pulled me close to him so we could enjoy each other's closeness and feel our pulse go down together. Eric was the only dance partner I needed. When a Justin Timberlake song came on it felt like it was time for me to leave the dance floor. It wasn't music Eric would dance to. I searched for Angelica, and for a few seconds I wondered if she had left without me, but then I saw her on a couch with a dark haired girl, sitting way too close to each other to be okay, if I cared. I had thought the thought before, that I needed to break it off with Angelica, but didn't know what to say. Now she gave me a reason. Angelica played with the girl’s hair, and dragged her hand down her tattooed arm. It was then I looked more closely at the girl’s face. Yes, it was. I was almost positive it was… 

“Simone?” I walked up to her, and Angelica, and Angelica quickly moved away from the girl. If I hadn't been drinking I would have never dared to play my game, but now I was a bit drunk, high on my fantasies of Eric, but also a bit pissed Angelica humiliated me. 

“Yeah?” Said the girl, and looked me up and down confused. She wore a black tank top and black jeans, nothing special at all, but they looked great on her. I sat down, in between them just to be annoying, and looked at Simone closely. She was hot in a much more interesting way than Angelica, and in another world I maybe had tried to flirt with her too. 

“Aren't you Eric's ex?” I said it carefully, I didn't want to upset her. She looked away with an unreadable expression then sighed. 

“Yeah.” 

I nodded a little, and tried to slow my heart rate by taking a few deep breaths. 

“I'm sorry for your loss. It was three years ago, right?” 

“Hm?” She looked at me confused, and I looked at her in a similar way. 

“Since Eric's death?” 

“What the fuck are you talking about? He isn't dead.” 

I looked at her like she was speaking another language. I couldn't understand what she was saying but sweat broke out on my forehead and under my arms. If she said what I thought she said something was really weird. 

“Yes he is, I know his brother…”

“No, he's out there, being a high asshole as usual.”

“No… He died, his mom-” 

Simone took up her phone and scrolled through something, then she pushed her phone in my face. It was a story on Snapchat by someone called “JickJackRoo42”, and there next to another tattooed guy he sat, alive and well. He had a joint between his thumb and forefinger, and inhaled when he noticed the camera. 

There he was. Eric. My Eric. Dead Eric, but fully alive Eric. 

“Eric isn't dead!” 

× 

[medusapelagia]

Sorry - Part 4

written for Steddiemicrofic Prompt: stuff WC: 483 rated: T TW: injuries, mention of child kidnapping

Part one: I’ll make you proud, Part two: Battle cry, Part three: Stupid but brave

Max didn't lie when she told him that her mom was a powerful mage. She managed to immobilize him with her stare and now he's tied to a wooden table, unable to move or to speak.

The red-haired woman whispered in Steve's ear something that sounded like an apology, but even if the knight could understand why she's doing it, he can't forget her. He has a loving husband and a kid waiting for him: he can't let Vecna win the war and he will try to fight until his last breath.

He looks around, his eyes are the only part of his body he can still move, looking for a weapon; after all, the room is full of stuff he can't even name but a knife is a knife, even when it is used to cut herbs. The mage is too busy working on her potion so Steve takes his chance. Breathing in, deep and slow, he tries to wiggle his fingers. At first, nothing happens, but after a few tries he manages to move his little finger. It's not much but it sounds like a big conquer.

They hear the sound of footsteps before the heavy door slams open and the chains at the wall rattle.

"Are we ready? I can't wait to see him transform!" Vecna says, staring with his icy blue eyes at the man leaning on the table.

"I don't know. I only made this potion once. I should test it."

"We already tested it, and it worked."

"But it killed her!" The woman cries.

"My sister was just a waste of space, at least she managed to get herself useful before dying." Vecna grins, getting closer to Steve who remains still, "I wonder which color would he be. Green? Red? Maybe black? I'd love to have a black dragon. One that can blend in with the dark sky and fly from our castle to theirs without anyone noticing him." Creel chuckles.

A dragon? What are they talking about?

"Where's my daughter? You promised me I could see her if I made the potion."

"He's not a dragon yet, is he?" Vecna sneers.

"Let me see my daughter or I'll throw away the potion and I won't make another one!" the woman yells, holding the vial, and for the first time, Vecna trembles.

"Ok, no need to be so touchy." he turns toward a guard, "Bring the girl," he orders and after a few moments, the red-haired girl is dragged into the room.

"Max!" Her mother calls, trying to run toward her, but Vecna stops her.

"First, my dragon." He insists.

And the woman nods, whispering "Sorry." before prying Steve's mouth open and pouring the potion.

"Mom! No!" Max yells, trying to free herself from the guard's tight grip, but Steve has already swallowed the potion and even if his body can't move, the pain inside is unbearable.

permanent taglist: @katyawriteswhump

[msweebyness]

Times the Akuma Class Had Each Other’s Backs

Hey, folks! These are some old prompts for the Akuma Class that were in my notes! They were originally supposed to be shorts, but who knows? Maybe I’ll do some one day! Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

It should come as no surprise to you all that the akuma class absolutely despises Gabriel. For one thing, he’s a neglectful father who rarely gives his son the time of day, and for another, he’s an asshat who forced his son into a career that he doesn’t want. There have been so many breakouts from Adrien’s bedroom to take him to do something fun, or just trolling the heck out of Gabe in any way they possibly can. They plan to torment him until he gives up custody to The Gorilla.

It’s the sad truth that not all teachers have their students’ best interests at heart, and this was sadly the case with Kim and DuPont’s (now former) math teacher for their grade. He would constantly cruelly berate the young athlete and tell him he was an imbecile and would never leave middle school once the other students had left. He gave Kim extra work he wasn’t equipped to understand, and offered no kind of assistance. And when the other kids were there, he would constantly single Kim out, calling on him when he knew he was unprepared. Eventually though, the rest of the class caught on and all began taking notes and recording what they were witnessing. After a week or two, they reported their findings to the school board, and the teacher lost his employment. And when Kim’s parents were called in…the entire school could hear Mai screaming in furious Vietnamese.

It’s not rocket science that having your work stolen really hurts, and Max knows this firsthand. He worked for weeks on a new software format that would speed up processing to an insane degree, and was going to present it to a prestigious tech institution. Only for the program to get stolen by some jerks from another class who wanted the position for themselves. Thankfully, the akuma class is always prepared and had proven records of Max working on the program, such as photos and video, showing that it was his. They’ve done the same thing with jerks who’ve tried to steal or trace Nath’s art.

Whenever Rose can’t come to class because she’s having an episode of her condition, her classmates set up tablet with a video call and place it in her seat next to Juleka so she can feel like she’s in class with them. They also take extra notes just in case the connection goes out and she misses something.

Juleka’s first professional modeling gig was a joyous occasion…and one that warranted a whole boatload of stress. Juleka nearly worked herself into an anxiety attack on the day the shoot was scheduled…until she saw the boatload of encouraging messages from her classmates and the rest of the Girl Squad there to accompany her. The class does the same thing when Mylene is nervous about speaking for one of her charities or going on stage.

Marinette was overjoyed when she was nominated to take part in a prestigious fashion competition…only to be consumed by anxiety when she discovered she would be up against professional designers who had entire teams at their disposal! Thankfully, she has a squad of dedicated friends who were willing to learn how to put dresses together, no matter how many times they pricked themselves or had to redo their work. They absolutely kicked ass and all the other designers were embarrassed they were beat by a group of teens.

(Here’s the big one!) We all know teens can be stupid little shits, and this was certainly the case with some of Ivan’s neighbors. The three assholes, like a bunch of dickheads, decided to entertain themselves by throwing rocks from their mom’s garden to scare a group of little kids who were playing in the nextdoor yard. Well, this was the Bruel’s house and Sasha happened to be among those kids…and one of the rocks hit her in the side of the head. Hearing his little sister sobbing from inside the house while he’d been helping Mylene (who was over at the time) make the kids something for lunch, Ivan came back out to see what was going on…and completely lost it. After Mylene took Sasha inside and called an ambulance because her head was bleeding, Ivan blew up at the three boys, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with them. Of course, they decided to use this outburst to claim he had been threatening them. Of course the parents believed them, despite the testimonies from the other children (Kiran and the Cesaire twins) of what had happened, and actually threatened to sue and posted a warning on the neighborhood Twitter that the people next door had a ‘very aggressive son’… only to be forced to take it down and apologize when the akuma class (as well as the other three classes in the grade) all left comments saying that was total bullshit…and Max got ahold of security footage from the neighbors behind the Bruels, permitting Sabrina to get her dad involved. Sasha ended up having to stay in the hospital for a day or two, getting stitches and making sure there were no internal injuries to her head. (Thankfully, she was clear) But when she got home, the entire akuma class had made a ‘Get Well Soon’ card for her with personal messages from each of them! Marinette even made her a cute Sulley Mini Plushy, (Monsters Inc is her favorite movie) and Nath drew a picture of her as a princess superhero (what she says she wants to be when she grows up!) And don’t worry, those three idiots got in HUGE trouble. Let’s just say, Galina and Iosif were NOT happy with them…or their parents for that matter. (And it turns out the rest of the class had gone around talking to the neighbors and it turns out these kids had a history of problem behavior that their parents never did anything about!)

Family sticks together! (The Sasha one is based a little on personal frustration, because stuff like this happens, sadly more than once where I live. As someone who loves and works with young children, I HATE that the idiots who do that kind of stuff GET AWAY WITH IT. The last ended how I wish these situations would most of the time!) Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[alwaysteveswife]

Crazy for you | Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader.

a/n: I apologize for my inactivity 🥲 I have no excuse, I've just been procrastinating as much as I can because I'm going back to school soon 🙂.

After days of being terrorized by Vecna, the group of older teens decides to confront him once and for all, even if their lives are in danger.

Warnings: Angst, Y/N being sensitive about her relationship with Steve, insecurity, Steve being half a jerk and preferring Nancy over his girlfriend, narrated in first person.

Words: 2,419

"Okay, so me, Robin and Steve will go attack Vecna while he's with Max, and you three" Nancy points at me, Dustin and Eddie "You'll be the distraction".

"The bait, you mean" I cross my arms, frowning, "Don't you think it's a bad idea? Just look at us! None of us could fight those bats" I sighed, crossing my arms. "We barely made it out of there alive last time".

"Don't worry, it's impossible for things to go wrong, we know how to attack now" Steve took my hand, stroking it to calm me down.

"How can you be so sure of that, are you blind? The three of us can't fight off a flock of killer bats!" I pulled his hand away angrily.

"Y/N..."

"No! Don't try to convince me!" I left the trailer and slammed the door shut, hurrying to the forest, wiping away my tears.

Now a bit away from the others, I sat down on a log and began to cry, letting out everything I had been holding in this past week.

"Y/N" Steve stopped in front of me, looking at me sympathetically. He knelt down and made me lift my face to look at him, "Look, I know these last few days have been hard for you, for everyone, but you have to understand that we don't have a choice".

"re you serious?" I gritted my teeth, holding back the urge to yell at Steve. "Steve, that.... Nancy wants to use us as bait, she wants to see us die, don't you get it? Do you really think music is going to save us? This isn't a stupid musical, and you know it".

He sighed, pulling his hair back.  He took my hands and kissed my forehead. As if that would change my mind.

"Nothing bad is going to happen, okay? Eddie and Dustin will be there with you".

"But I don't want to be with them, I want to be with you" I wiped away the tears, they were coming back. "We're supposed to be a team, Steve. I... I don't like the way things are between us".

He opened his eyes, surprised. I could see the fear in his eyes, he stood up, looking down at me.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't know if I'm capable of going through with this" I looked down at my hands, unable to look him in the face. "I love you, Steve. I love you very much".

"Then why?" I heard his voice break. He was starting to cry.

"Why is that? Oh, I don't know, maybe because you spend all your time with your ex lately, even though you know she has a boyfriend, and to make matters worse, she's flirting with you" I replied in a sarcastic tone, taking away any feelings of sympathy for him.

"Sometimes it seriously amazes me how childish you can be".

In another situation I would have taken the comment as a joke, but not in this one. I stood up, watching as he had begun to frown in anger.

"Childish? Do you really think I'm childish? Do you want me to remind you of what you've done this week with her?" I had started breathing hard, and to make matters worse, my chest hurt like hell itself. "All this week I've been trying to ignore how she hints at you, hints that I know you pick up on!" I pressed my index finger to his chest angrily, "Damn it, Steve, all I asked you to do during this mess was to stay with me" I'd started crying for real, I could swear even the guys could hear me. "This could have been our last night alive, and you preferred to spend it with Nancy".

"She was lonely..."

"I was lonely too! I felt lonely, and stupid, and horrible" this time I clenched my fist, pounding it hard on my chest "I'm your girlfriend! I should be your priority between the two of us, and every time you've preferred her it breaks a part of me" I hit him again, screaming loudly-. I know I'm not as pretty as her, and I'm not as smart, or funny, or anything, but you said you loved me, and I... I believed you" I relaxed my hand, passing it over my head "I believed you..."

"Y/N..." He took my hands again, and for a moment I could have sworn he was shaking. "Listen".

"Don't touch me" I pushed him hard, "Don't talk to me, don't even dare to look at me" I took a breath, pushing past him to get back to the trailer. "If anything happens tomorrow... if this really ends up being our last day, I hope you remember that I warned you, Harrington".

After that fight I could hardly sleep. I stayed outside, watching the night sky, listening to Dustin's light snoring. I could also notice Steve watching me from the doorway, but I preferred to pretend not to notice, I didn't have the courage to face him again, I knew I would fall for his charms.

When it was time to start the plan, everyone had their weapons and suits ready. Eddie and Dustin were serious about the band. We moved to the other side, first was Steve, who helped by putting a mattress on the floor and help.

I refused, I had legs and arms, I could get up from a simple mattress.

"Okay, remember, no one can get out of the plan, okay? "

Steve approached us, he had the spiked bat in his right hand, and was carrying a large bag in his left arm.

"Remember, you're just going to be the distraction, after that you run to the van and go home. No heroics, okay?"

"Easy, Steve, we're not heroes" Eddie smiled, wrapping his arms around Dustin's shoulders and winking at me.

"Hey" He walked over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"I thought I made things clear yesterday" I pushed his hand away, nodding my head, "Nancy is calling you, you should go with her, unless you want to ruin her much loved plan" I turned around, grabbing the mic and walking with the guys to set things up.

We had the whole van covered with tights and boards, so we were sure that no flying bats could attack us. The three of us stood on top of it, Eddie plugged in his guitar and my mic, Dustin set up the amps, and the show started.

I could have sworn it was the longest minute of my life. I knew the words by heart, but there were still times when I almost ruined the song out of nerves.

When they were close to us, we jumped out and into the van, ready to jump into the other side. Our plan had everything to be perfect, except for one thing. The fans. Those things would fit through them, and we found out the hard way. Eddie was shooing them away with his spiked shield, I was just pushing Dustin up the rope so he could cross to the other side.

Then, for a second, I noticed how Eddie was determined to stay to fight, and I was determined to stay with him to help him. To defend Steve.

"Sorry, Dustin" I took a knife and cut the sheets, throwing the mattress to the side to keep him from crossing. I looked at Eddie and he nodded. We were ready to do our part. Be the bait.

We ran outside and hopped on a bike, me on the seat and Eddie up. I could tell he was driving with all his might, but it wasn't enough, they were catching up to us. I closed my eyes, knowing it would soon be the end of us, praying that at least there would be no more dead besides the two of us.

When I opened them again, I was floating in the air and crashing to the ground. Eddie had crashed the bike. We both got up to start running, but a few steps beyond where we fell, he turned and raised his spear, ready to strike.

"Eddie, what are you doing!" I shouted in desperation, watching those things approaching faster and faster.

"Stop being a coward!" He struck a fighting pose, ready to fight those beasts.

I tightened my grip on the spear in my hand. I couldn't leave him there. I couldn't abandon him and let Alex lose another important person. I ran to his side, ready for my end.

"We're in this together, Munson".

He smiled at me, nodding. In less than a second, everything around us went black, and a blizzard nearly tripped me. They were flying very hard. We started fighting, punching and burying knives anywhere we could.

We had managed to bring a few down, but there were more of them than us, and they were stronger. In less time than we thought, we both ended up on the ground, being bat food.

I don't think I had ever screamed so much in my life. I could feel them tearing at my skin and eating my body. For a brief moment I could even make out how one of them pulled out a large chunk of meat. I turned to look at Eddie, he was still struggling from the ground, he was doing much better than me.

When I had no more hope of staying alive, the bats fell to the ground like autumn leaves, lifeless. Eddie was a few feet away from me.  He was breathing hard, but he was still laughing, he made it, he survived.

"Y/N, Eddie!" Dustin came limping toward us. He was crying.

"Dustin, we did it!" Eddie got up with Dustin's help, celebrating. "We did it!" He stopped when he saw me on the floor. I knew I couldn't save myself from this one.

"Y/N!" Dustin left Eddie and came over to me as fast as he could. "Holy shit!"

"Does it look that bad?" I tried to smile, but even the thought of it made my whole body ache.

"No! We're going to get you fixed up, we're going to go home, and we'll call a hospital, and you'll be fine" He started to cry even more, caressing my face.

"Dustin, I can't move" I said with difficulty, closing my eyes from exhaustion.

Eddie offered to carry me in his arms, and we stayed in the van, sitting on Eddie's couch. We planned to wait for the others to cross, we couldn't do it alone, not in these conditions.

Dustin and Eddie spent the next few minutes trying to keep me awake and one hundred percent awake. I felt myself losing more and more blood with each passing second. My strength was draining away. I couldn't hold on much longer.

"We won, guys, we won!" Robin came in cheerfully, behind her came the others. They were all happy.

Dustin looked at them, still crying. He opened his mouth, trying to say something, but only sobs came out.

The others looked at each other worriedly, approaching him to ask what happened. I guessed it was so dark they couldn't see all the blood I haved lost.

"Don't cry... Dustin" I realized my voice was barely audible. "You said it... remember? We're going to... go home and... call a hospital".

Dustin turned away, unable to see me. The others remained static, and Eddie just hugged me releasing a couple of tears that fell on my shoulders.

"Why... those faces? We won" I smiled, trying to keep from showing how much it hurt to talk.

"We did it, Y/N, we won" Robin came up to me, crying. She took my hand and looked at Eddie, who just shook his head.

I looked at Steve, who had sat on the floor in front of me, he kissed my forehead and brushed a strand of hair out of my face.

"You did great, honey".

I smiled, closing my eyes. The pain had begun to subside, and my body felt lighter.

"Remember what we talked about in... the trailer?" I started coughing loudly, feeling a thick liquid come out of my mouth. Eddie's grip tightened, as did Dustin's crying.

"The Harrington family?"

"Yes" My breathing began to slow, my eyelids felt heavier, I was sleepy. "About the... six mini Harringtons" I laughed as best I could, imagining what it would be like to have six Steve's running around the house. Robin and Dustin would take care of them.

I heard him let out a sort of laugh combined with a sob. I always loved his laugh, I felt complete when I could make him laugh at a difficult time for him.

"And we would go to California, to a beach" I felt his hand caress my cheek with great care. "The eight of us would watch the sunset, you'd be taking pictures of the scenery, and I'd scold the kids for going too far away".

I nodded, starting to feel a chill run through my body.

"And on the way we would play 'Crazy for you' by Madonna, do you remember the lyrics?"

"Of course I do" he waited a few seconds before he started singing softly, "Swaying room as the music starts..."

"Strangers making the most of the dark..." I used all my strength to open my eyes to look at him. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I really love you, Steve".

He shook his head, still crying.

"I'm sorry, you were right, about everything" He looked at the floor, and I closed my eyes again "Allyson, I..."

And then everything went black. I couldn't hear anything, all the pain I felt before was completely gone. And that's when I realized it was the end of me.

The price to pay for winning the final battle.

Masterlist

[thelediz]

Sonic Underground watch along

Because… madness, is why. Almost twenty goddamn years ago, I started writing a crossover between the absolute worst piece of Sonic media ever and the games. That fic is The Lost Prince. I am maybe like… two or three chapters from finishing it. TWENTY YEARS AND THREE CHAPTERS. And I have no motivation. You cannot understand the pain this causes me.

So I’m watching the worst piece of Sonic media again in search of inspiration.

And I’m going to talk about it while I do it.

(Normally, I do things like this over on lediz-watches, but because this is specifically to explain some of my headcanons and inspire my writing, it’s here)

So let’s set the scene, first. This has become somewhat common knowledge in Sonic Tumblr fandom these days, but bear with me, because it’s important context.

(Also, the next paragraph is going to get me more death threats because I CERTAINLY HAVEN’T GOTTEN ENOUGH OF THOSE FROM THIS FANDOM, but we’ll carry on anyway because it’s important context)

Once upon a time, there was a cartoon series called Sonic the Hedgehog, now known as SatAM for reasons mostly relating to its timeslot. Sonic the Hedgehog was perfectly acceptable grimdark 90s environmentalist children’s programming which due to classic 90s multimedia marketing strategy also gave rise to the Archie Sonic the Hedgehog comics. It got cancelled on a cliffhanger because that was the kind of thing that happened in the 90s where writers thought FOR SURE a cliffhanger would spare them from the dreaded 2-season contract. (It never did.)

The reason this matters is because the production house maintained the licensing rights to that particular branch of franchise. And they needed a quick cash grab.

For some reason which I will never understand, this spawned Sonic Underground, which is… an insane premise, cheap animation, surprisingly not terrible songs, and a handful of voice actors getting milked for every inch of their three-voice contracts.

Sonic is a prince! He has siblings that are TOTALLY NOT knock-off Princess Sally Acorn or Miles Tails Prower! They have magic necklaces! They save the day with music! Don’t notice the statues of King Max Acorn in the background! Knuckles’ grandfather from the comics is there! Knuckles has magic! The Floating Island has guns! Totally don’t pay attention to the fact that both the episodes and music tracks have separate licensing that will cost the networks extra! No we don’t have time to check for animation errors! ALSO let us use highly complicated political socio-economic difficulties of enlightenment and industrialism as world building BUT DON’T NOTICE WHAT WE’RE DOING just accept the ones we say are bad are bad and the good guys are good! Good? Good. Great.

It is a trashfire.

I adore it.

I have no excuse.

I do, however, have wine.

Let’s go, kids.

Sonic Underground 01: Beginnings

The plot (for want of a better word): Once upon a time, Queen Aleena of Mobius ruled a beautiful world kingdom city (?) and had three lovely babies: Sonic, Sonia, and Manic. An evil industrialist named Ivo Robotnik came out of nowhere and took over her city world kingdom (?), turning all the aristocrats evil. In desperation, Aleena turned to the Oracle of Delphi I mean Delphius who told her that she must hide herself and her children away, until they could reunite as the Council of Four and enter a glorious New Age.

This episode is about the three children growing up, realising they have siblings, magical music, and the much less exciting fact that they’re once and former royalty, and coming together through The Power of Harmony.

Now, this episode immediately showcases what I love about The Trashfire: its background worldbuilding. You are not supposed to notice the worldbuilding, but it’s there and it’s amazing.

Realistically, Aleena would have been an absolutely terrible queen. I am not in the least bit surprised her aristocrats followed Robotnik, who promoted science and industrialisation and then sold them cheap labour. Honestly. Compare that to –

The facsimile of the Hanging Gardens, right there in the first twenty seconds. The HANGING GARDENS. Beautiful, yes. Legendary, absolutely. Would I have loved to see it? Hell yes! A good use of time or resources or indeed environment? HAH. MEANWHILE –

Slums! I don’t care what your artistic imagery is telling me, those tight dark alleyways you’re running down were there before Robotnik took over, your majesty. And you’re wasting tax payer dollars mobiums on THE HANGING GARDENS.

Manic was supposed to go to a middle-class family – you can tell by the clothing of the person that comes to the door. And he’s immediately stolen. Don’t question why a thief would steal a baby (there are so many things we must not question), but notice that it took all of ten seconds. The crime rate in her supposedly perfect city is CRAZY.

Side note: Manic was supposed to go to a middle-class family! The triplets should have gone aristocrat-middle class-working class, but instead we skipped straight from aristocrat to working class and then down to thief, but Aleena NEVER INTENDED to teach her children about the underclass.

Is Mobius a kingdom? Is it a world? We don’t know. We will never know. It Just Is, and Robotnik rules it, while Aleena used to rule it. Stop asking questions.

Music is illegal. This is a real thing that has happened in fascist communities, by the way, usually as a way of controlling the youth. And yet Sonia and Bartleby are out looking for an illegal club. Bartleby is bitching the whole way, but he’s there and he’d looking because it makes Sonia happy and it says SO MUCH about the spineless little worm. I love him.

Anyway. Onto my episode notes:

These character designs. What are these character designs… In my fic I call the alien-looking thing mixes, and say it's what happens when too many super classes (like... canine, feline, fish, etc) interbreed, but really it's just WEIRD.

Goddamnit, I hate Sonia. Not because of her character itself – she is… fine. But I hated GRRL Power even when I was the target audience of it, because of reasons that I can and probably will eventually go on for hours about. But basically, I mostly just hate that she’s perfect at everything, and her only flaws are being bossy and over emotional. It’s not real character, it’s not real personality, and I hate it.

Oh. A thing I’d forgotten. Sonic Underground’s one and only positive influence on other Sonic media: this was the first western animation that gave the hedgehogs more than three spikes. Probably because 3D games were also coming and going to make it A Thing.

Also: Sonic’s Tragic Backstory! I make so much of these foster parents for so many reasons.

But uh… yeah, starting the first episode with the out of place smiles during emotional moments… Sonic and Chuck smiling blandly as the only home Sonic’s ever known burns to the ground in front of them…

Imagine if you’d never read the comics or watched SatAM. Uncle Chuck and his dump-base would be a such a strange thing to see…

Oh, wow… Sonic’s reaction to the Oracle of Delphius’s nonsense. “I’m a prince? Weird. I’m a BROTHER? HOLY CRAP!”

Poor Sleet and Dingo. They never wanted to be evil, but they’re… not even very good at it…

THE SONG: Someday. Meatloaf pop eat your heart out. You would never believe that this was actually a pretty good storyboard match for some legit music videos at the time.

Seriously, Oracle, you could have stopped all of this by just stabbing him instead of warning him. You aren’t a good guy. Don’t pretend to be.

The instrumental song! Legit Sonic music. In fact, this gives serious Sonic and the Secret Rings vibes… I demand more than thirty seconds.

“Oh no, my family has been captured and turned into a robot! But you say my necklace is MAGIC? Fascinating…!”

I mean, look. I can’t defend this thing. I won’t defend this thing. Even when I was a kid, I knew it was terrible.

But I’m having fun anyway.

Normally, on these posts, I'll do one at a time because I've just realised how LONG these are, but the first three episodes are really just an hour-long conjoined episode. And things like that are s why I know at least someone in the producer's studio legitimately thought the Trashfire was a good idea. They were wrong.

Anyway. Sonic Underground 02: Getting to Know You

The plot (for want of a better word): the three siblings set out as directed by the Oracle of Delphius. They encounter a trainer who teaches Sonic how to stop, Sonia how to spin, and Manic how to do cool tricks with his drum sticks that he will barely use throughout the series. Mostly, it’s an episode that introduces some overarching themes, like Sonic being impulsive and irritable, Sonia being prissy, Manic’s insecurities, the divide between proper girl and stinky boys, and that while the triplets will tease each other constantly, it’s always all for one if someone else comes after them.

…That made it sound much sweeter and better than it actually is.

Dingo… she’s not that pretty, and don’t let Sleet tell you you’re ugly. You’re both 90s villains. I’m sure someone’s made Rule 34 fanart of you.

Oh hahaha Sonia’s so out of touch, thinking there’s a maid and that a mouse is terrible ahahano. GUYS.

Look, I hate Sonia, I do, but I have to give her props that Sonic and Manic don’t. Two hours ago she was a sheltered aristocrat’s daughter, she’s stating her expectations, and when Sonic shuts her down she makes a quick joke and gets on with things. I appreciate the pragmatism. I will give her that.

Look, Sleet, you gave Dingo an instruction and he followed it. Don’t act surprised. (Spoiler warning: He will continue to be surprised.)

Okay, this is a weird thing that the show will play with occasionally. Sonic and Sonia trade off mission-focus tunnel vision all the time. Usually when they want the other one to seem flighty or impatient respectively. But Sonia loses her props for not just getting to the point when their lives are on the line.

And then the boys lose it for being Idiot Boys despite the conversation.

Ah, Sonic Undgeround’s weird timelines. How I’d forgotten them. Side note, I also have trouble with pacing and timelines when writing The Lost Prince, so I probably can’t blame it. But here, they’ve been walking for two days, and Sonia is only NOW asking what Manic did for a living.

(also, notice that even Sonia, sheltered aristocrat that she is, thinks everyone of their age should have a proper job. They are somewhere between the ages of twelve and sixteen, folks! I make way too much of this!)

Gondar. Is certainly not voiced by the same guy as Robotnik, I’m sure.

No one questions why Sonic has super speed. This is not considered to be his ‘hidden talent’. For Reasons.

Manic’s ability to make drum sticks fly around will never be mentioned after this episode, to my memory.

Three days plus however much training time… and Robotnik is only just now figuring out the map they found? Apparently the super genius can’t read.

Ahh, Manic’s insecurity. So very well founded. He’s right, I’d argue – Sonic’s speed and Sonia’s… whatever that spin thing is, they are both so much more powerful than being able to throw sticks. And this isn’t even Sokka in the Last Airbender thing, the sticks are basically useless and will continue to be so. His actual power (SPOILERS) is over the earth, to the point that the whole stick thing is a weird addition from the get-go.

I’ll be honest with you, the monks and the invisible stairs are the only things I ever remember from this episode, because it’s such a weird visual that isn’t important in any way.

Sonic implying less than 100% American heterosexuality counter +1

Okay, so this is another running theme with the series, where they’re going to say Sonic’s impulsiveness is a huge problem, but the times when it isn’t, he won’t do anything different, it will just be that either Sonia tells him what to do, or he suddenly shows far more battle skill than he does when the impulsiveness is a problem. This is a common thread in Sonic media, actually, and it always kind of annoys me because they never do it well. Everything is always Sonic’s fault, except when it isn’t. Yes, this is why I still haven’t gotten around to watching Sonic Prime.

The SONG: Working Together, in which 60s rock would like their style back, thanks

…Wait, that was it?

Oh, yeah, in a better show this would have been the second third of a long first episode, RIGHT.

Sonic Underground 03: Harmony or Something

The plot (for want of a better word): After having discovered Manic’s power over the earth, the triplets are told Sonic’s friend Trevor is in danger. They abandon their training to rescue him, only to uncover a scheme to hunt down the Oracle of Delphius! The triplets must think quickly and work as a team to save everyone!

Once again, Sonic being cranky disrupts the harmony and causes problems. 90s Sonic was always so cranky…

A bit of world building here again, that you surprisingly are supposed to notice: elementals (of which dragons apparently count) are a thing, and apparently common-place enough that they teach it in school. Now, the way the conversation is phrased, you’re supposed to think Sonic’s stupid for not knowing about it, but Sonia is the only one that does. This is absolutely where I got the idea that she’s the only one of the three that went to school. Which would make sense in context, but I am thinking way too hard about it…

“Control of the earth can set off powers beyond your control”… this will never come up again. Manic, you could have had such an epic character arc of growing arrogance and humility… Instead I have to think too much about it and read into Manic’s insecurity and make him into A Nice Guy and ughhhh I am such a problem.

“I have also learnt that you might have the biggest heart in the world” – this is about Sonic, and while I agree with this characterisation in general, I have not seen it in this series, and certainly neither has Sonia. But we move on.

 Jeez… yeah, Bartleby’s a sleaze and a problem, but again, put a little reality on this situation and he’s actually worth his salt. He ‘walks the fine line’ as per Sonia’s words, and is immediately threatened by the sight of a woman who was his social equal (if not better) having been robbed of her sentience and turned into a slave, and he still does nothing worse than continue to walk the fine line. He’s a jellyfish, but the man’s got integrity.

Dingo, in contrast, is a creep, and Sleet’s insults make like, no sense

Once again, Sonia knows all the things. Hacking, flying jets, this will keep happening… If a skill is needed, Sonia will have it, as a good 90s female. God, I hate her character type.

Manic… seriously, man, mortal peril is not the time to play around, but Sonia, snarking at Sonic during mortal peril is also not appropriate

And the first of Aleena’s guilt tripping holograms! Hooray!

THE SONG: Birds of a Feather… oh, the… the early 90s pop nostalgia… oh ouch… it hurts…

 …I appreciate Sleet’s pragmatism. It never works out for him, but I appreciate it.

Sonic implying less than 100% American heterosexuality counter +1

Aleena… Oracle… it… I get prophecy, but… you’re RIGHT THERE. Reunite! Save us the next 37 episodes and the unresolved ending! Or at least tell the kids to stop looking until they’re ready. Come on.

The prophecy is obnoxiously vague, by the way. In this episode, it’s… arguably implied that the triplets need to learn to be better before they can be given their rightful place as rulers, but I would argue that in 40 episodes, the show takes absolutely no steps to improve their characters and make them better leaders. And as I said last time, Aleena is implied to have been not great to begin with. So CLEARLY my solution to this whole problem is change the last two minutes of this episode.

But that was the opening movie! Ridiculously too fast-paced for what it was trying to do, terrible animation, amazing world-building, interesting characters, acceptable dialogue. Welcome to the Trashfire that I have loved for half my life.

Come back tomorrow if you want to know more!

[kafus]

i just spent multiple hours grinding at least two of each overworld accessory in HGSS + getting all the accessories and backdrops from the accessory drawing/other methods... feels very cool to have the whole collection but the documentation on this stuff in HGSS specifically is very slim and i noticed some missing info and wrong info on serebii which is basically the only place with any sort of semi-decent documentation, so here's a few notes about it if you want to do this yourself (below the cut because long) that i may put in a better location than tumblr later (keep in mind these are personal anecdotes and i haven't looked into the code of the game or anything)

the below assumes you already have a basic understanding of the dress-up/accessory feature, here's the page on the subject on serebii

since there's seemingly no list of backdrops on serebii, here's a list on bulbapedia

anyways, here are my notes:

goldenrod accessory drawing

the accessory drawing is unlimited and isn't one per day

the accessory drawing accessories are mostly one-only, as in you get them once and never again, as far as i can tell. that being said, as you keep spamming A for more, you also start losing the drawing more, so i think instead of re-rolling for an accessory you don't have yet when it lands on one you already have, it's just going "oh, you already have that!" and then telling you that you lost. by the time i was looking for the last one or two accessories i didn't have, i was losing over a dozen times between obtaining anything

the exceptions to the one-only rule appear to be the Googly Specs, Black Specs, Gorgeous Specs, Sweet Candy, and Confetti, which all just so happen to appear on the same page in the dress-up menu. strangely, these were all purchasable in DPPT with berries instead of being amity square accessories or otherwise, but there's a bunch of purchasable accessories in DPPT that don't seem to repeat in HGSS

the backdrops obtained from the accessory drawing seemed to become more frequent as i started running out of accessories to obtain, though that could just be my personal luck and confirmation bias. they come with different dialogue and seem to be a separate pool of drops

overworld accessories

when it comes to the overworld accessories that you get through talking to your pokemon, it seems you need to run around to get it to happen, like you can't just sit there and spam A endlessly like you can for the shiny leaf crown, though i may be wrong about that. i personally had the best luck with walking around and then talking to my pokemon. if i tried to just sit there and spam A, nothing would happen, even after a long stretch of time.

if i'm correct about walking being necessary, it is not working on the same 200 step counter that amity square accessories do in DPPT. i'm thinking maybe a random chance every step or every few steps? no clue. sometimes it took forever and sometimes it didn't

in speaking of time, it seemed accessories showed up a lot more often if there were a lot in the area, such as in ilex forest which has a bunch of different possibilities. i think they might all be separated possible events individually rolling instead of one which then picks from a table? not sure at all on that

after the pokemon "generated" an accessory and then i talked to it, the dialogue for taking the accessory came up after a maximum of four interactions

as far as i can tell, angry pokemon don't give accessories and i still have no idea what makes pokemon randomly angry when you talk to them a lot, but in that case you can just swap which pokemon is following you to reset their anger

i have no idea if having high friendship on a pokemon affects the drop chance of accessories, honestly probably not since the shiny leaves don't seem to be affected but it's worth noting my cyndaquil definitely has max friendship and i did this entire grind with that and my dragonite which is also max friendship

misc

the three backdrops and two accessories obtained through inserting a GBA game into the DS at the pal park are not language locked despite pal park's main pokemon transfer functionality being language locked. i used japanese ruby, sapphire, and firered to get their respective backdrops/accessories in english soulsilver

some of the backdrops have animations after confirming the dress-up that just... don't seem to be documented anywhere? someone should make a gif of those. that could be a task for me at some point

additionally, some of the locations for the accessories are wrong on serebii, or not complete, like finding an accessory in another location that isn't listed on the site. i did not make a comprehensive list of what accessories every location in the game drops, that would require way more grinding, but i did make a list of where you can find each overworld accessory in at least one location to get all of them (i do not know if these are different between heartgold/soulsilver, i did this on SS. also sorry for the lack of formatting, i was just writing this in notepad and copy/pasted it)

Big Leaf - Route 6 Big Scale - Olivine City Black Beard - Bell Tower Black Fluff - Route 42 Black Moustache - Sprout Tower Black Pebble - Union Cave Blue Feather - Route 37 Blue Flower - Route 11 Blue Scale - Route 14 Brown Fluff - Route 39 Determination - Mahogany Town Rocket Hideout Eerie Thing - Ruins of Alph Glitter Boulder - Route 24 Glitter Powder - Power Plant Green Scale - Route 34 Jagged Boulder - Mt. Silver Outside Mini Pebble - Route 26 Mystic Fire - Lighthouse Narrow Leaf - Route 7 Narrow Scale - Lake of Rage Orange Flower - Ecruteak City Orange Fluff - Route 36 Peculiar Spoon - Goldenrod City Radio Tower Pink Flower - Route 30 Pink Fluff - Route 33 Pink Scale - Route 40 Poison Extract - Mahogany Town Rocket Hideout Pretty Dewdrop - Viridian Forest Puffy Smoke - Burnt Tower Purple Scale - Route 46 Red Feather - Route 38 Red Flower - Ecruteak City Round Pebble - Mt. Moon (Outside) Seashell - Whirl Islands Shed Claw - Whirl Islands Shed Horn - Whirl Islands Shimmering Fire - Burnt Tower Shiny Powder - Goldenrod City Radio Tower Small Leaf - Route 5 Snaggy Pebble - Mt. Silver Outside Snow Crystal - Ice Path Sparks - Power Plant Spring - Power Plant Stump - Ilex Forest Thick Mushroom - Ilex Forest Thin Mushroom - Viridian Forest Wealthy Coin - Power Plant White Beard - Bell Tower White Feather - Route 4 White Flower - Route 9 White Fluff - Route 31 White Moustache - Sprout Tower Yellow Feather - Route 3 Yellow Flower - Ecruteak City Yellow Fluff - Route 2

and that's about it i think

[cevans-is-classic]

18+ only please! Sexual content, blood, casual mentions of death, a wee cross over with my best friends newst obsession (can you spot it)

Pedro Pascal masterlist

My Masterlist

:readmore:

“If someone would have told me my next-door neighbor was going to be a corporate vampire, I would have asked to see the lease again. Instead, and much to my chagrin, I get to wake up at three in the morning to you needing a shower because a dead body is in yours. Max, buddy, I feel like we’re stretching the limits here.”

Standing there clad in a bloodied white button up — that hung open to show lines of blood running down his torso to soak into his boxer briefs — was none other than Max fucking Phillips.

(Did he have to be that attractive even covered in blood looking like he walked out of a B-rated slasher film? Come on!)

There were bloodstains on the concrete.

“I’m not sure how I’m going to clean that up.” You frown.

Max waves a hand. “You’re thinking too far ahead. We’ll be okay, but for now, your shower?”

You considered not letting him in. Really, you did. Then he turned those dark eyes of his to you and all excuses why you wouldn’t let him in disappeared.

The worst part is you know it isn’t his power.

That’s just your reaction to Max.

You’d never tell him that, though.

“Fine.” You step back. “Go clean up, you’re congealing.”

Max shot you a sharp smile, moving past you, letting his chest brush against your arm in a move that was flirty, but all it did was annoy you at the smear of blood across your shirt.

You’ve known Max for years — in all the ways that count — and nearly every day somehow, someway, he ends up getting blood (or something else) all over your clothes.

“You owe me a new wardrobe.”

He gave you a toothy grin, then disappeared into the bathroom, the water starting up moments later.

Looking at the bloody footprints leading from the doorway to the bathroom, you wondered if staking him would be worth it.

Probably not.

It’s just your luck that the same regional sales manager that has taken over your company’s numbers is the same man who has lived next to you for the better half of a decade.

Who is a vampire.

Not to reiterate the obvious.

It’s also just your luck that said Vampire Regional Manager asked you for drinks one day when you both pulled in from work and then bent you over his very expensive — ridiculously comfortable — sofa, where he proceeded to ask if he could eat you and you learned that was literal.

With a heavy sigh, you need to remind yourself that all of this is real. Now you have to call Saul to come and get whatever conquest Max got a little too bitey with and clean up the man's mess.

Should make him do your dishes when he gets out of the shower.

Ugh, no, he never dries them right.

Your eyes flash to the clock above your television and roll your eyes. Jesus,it's three twenty-six in the morning.

You'd promised yourself after the shit show that was work today you would fill this weekend with sleeping in and relaxation.

Maybe you could still make it happen.

You eyed the bloody footprints again and frowned.

Never mind.

Sending a quick message to Saul, you got up to grab the cleaning supplies, ignoring the drop in your stomach at the idea of who the blood belongs to.

Most of the time, if it's at his apartment, it's a sex worker he picked up to strung out on drugs to realize they're being eaten — once again — in the literal sense. Now and then, it'd be a hookup who begged for him to bite them without understanding the implications.

One very memorable time it was a pizza guy who went to the wrong door.

You'd gotten a free pizza out of it, but the poor kid wasn't the same afterward.

Missing fingers and all.

"What are you doing?" You jumped at his voice, ignoring the smell of his body wash (seriously, why did you have a bottle of it in your shower) and the way water trailed down his thighs.

"I'm cleaning."

"Yeah," He crouched, "I can see that. Why, though?"

That earned him an eye roll. "Unlike you, Mr. Phillips, I take great pride in keeping a clean office and a clean home."

He moved into your line of sight, reaching for your hand. His fingers curled over yours, sliding between them, touching your palm and pulling it back to bring to his mouth.

Max licked an errant drop of blood from your fingertips, and you shivered.

"Saul's guys can handle it." He tugged you towards him, the towel around his waist stretching with the spread of his knees.

"Max-"

"Shh." He tipped your chin up, dark eyes flashing, his tongue brushing over his canines with a smirk, "You had a bad day today, and I certainly didn't help."

He pulled you up, crowding you against the kitchen wall before dipping his nose to the crook of your throat. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

You huffed, "Was it my supple flesh and blood filled veins?"

"No," Max nips at your skin, making you squeak in response, "It's how wet you get when I do this."

His mouth latched onto your neck, nipping, biting, scraping his teeth over your collar and down, down, down until he could lift your shirt and kiss the swell of your stomach.

You closed your eyes. "Max, who did you kill?"

He hummed, untying your pajama bottoms, "Insignificant." He slipped them down your thighs, lifting your legs one at a time and bending to take them off.

"It's pretty significant since you've got blood all over my — holy shit — Max!" Your hand went to his hair as his nose pressed into you. He didn't have to breathe anymore, yet somehow his mouth still left heated air over you that had your knees shaking.

"That is something for Saul to worry about." He reached for your underwear, slipping his fingers under the band with a smirk aimed up at you.

Something about the quirk of his brow and the tip of his tongue pressing against his teeth made you pause.

"Maxwell -" He paused, "If I go to your apartment right now," He kissed your thigh, up towards your heat, then back down again, "Who will I find?"

He shrugged, "Does it matter?"

A thought crossed your mind — something abrupt.

Sandra Mayers.

You saw the way she walked past your office, her nose tipped up, the sneer she'd give you anytime Max came to your desk instead of hers.

You weren't sure if Max knew how much you despised her, which would mark her off the list -

Wait.

Oh shit.

Max came down to bring you lunch, or so he said, interrupting your paperwork and putting you behind — again.

Usually you could handle it, but today was not the day for you to watch your boss — neighbor — fuck buddy? — flirt his way through the promotional department until he found his next meal/lay.

Him coming straight to your desk after chatting with Dwight didn't help matters, either.

“Max, we’ve talked about this.” He held up his hands, stepping into your office anyway.

“Woah, I’m just here to check on a friend.” Yeah, because checking is all that happens

Max ‘checking’ meant the turnover rate was going to rise again this quarter.

You sighed, running a hand over your face in exasperation, “Every time you come to ‘check’ on a friend, someone dies.”

He laughed for a beat, then leaned against your doorway and tilted his head. “That’s an exaggeration. No one died last week.”

Behind him, Sandra Mayers walked past your office, turned to look at you, and mouthed the word ‘whore’ with great enunciation.

You frowned, “Max — I can’t do this today.”

Instead of him taking the hint and leaving, he peels off his jacket, his smile slipping from his lips, “I know that tone. That tone means something happened — what happened?”

His jacket hit your desk, and you held up a hand to stop him. “I’m serious. I’ll see you after work.”

He watched you for a beat, then lifted his hand for the jacket. It hit his palm in a blink, something you’ll never fucking get used to.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be.”

You smiled at him with something warm, something that made your eyes crinkle, and the dimple in his cheeks flashed in response.

He winked, “See you later, neighbor.”

When he turned, Sandra was still there, papers in her hand. The sneer she wore changed when Max focused his attention on her. You couldn’t hear what they said, but you saw his hand move to her waist and felt your blood burn.

When Max sent you one last look over his shoulder, you nearly snapped your pen in half.

“Max.” Your tone changed, your voice dropping low.

His tongue traces you through the underwear.

“Did you kill Sandra Mayer?”

You grip his hair and tug, causing Max to groan, long, drawn out, his eyes closing and the towel tenting across his lap.

“Yes.” He panted

“You killed her for me?”

Max was heaving, an unnecessary habit. “She was a bitch to you. Noone is a bitch to you.”

How could you not let him have his fill after that?