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stevie-petey · 5 days

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episode three: the monster and the superhero

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.” You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?” Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?” “You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Summary: you and steve can never have a normal conversation, dustin threatens nasa, eddie sadly eats his cereal because youre mean to him, youre once again nancys biggest fan, dustin and steve have an awkward heart to heart, and you and max become felons together and trauma bond (again) !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k

Before you swing in: hi hi hi !! so so so sorry for the wait. this chapter was a pain to write and i was so busy with school and work :( promise updates will become more regular soon. i was just simply in the trenches for a hot few weeks. things in the story are heatin up, so get ready gamers. anyways, enjoy !!

–

It’s quiet in Steve’s car.

Streetlights glow faintly, lighting the way home. The windows are down; the thick late spring air fills the car with the bittersweet scent of honeysuckles in bloom. In the dim of the car lies Steve’s faint outline as he drives. His hands rest against the steering wheel, his chest rises slowly as he inhales all the fear that settles inside the car.

No one speaks. The tension is suffocating you.

In the backseat resides Robin with Dustin and Max. The oldest sits in the middle, her fingers drum nervously against the head of your seat. Dustin stares out the window, he hasn’t looked at you ever since promising Eddie you’d be back for him tomorrow. He hadn’t wanted to leave him, he begged you to let him stay in the boathouse, but you wouldn’t let him.

Max stares out the other window. Her eyes are closed, she’s pretending to be asleep. You’ve come to learn what she looks like when she pretends. Her nose pinches slightly, her eyes can never stay still enough to convince you she’s asleep. It’s what she does whenever she doesn’t want to face your questions, your concerns and your fears.

Tension builds in the back of your skull, a dull throb rings within your ears. Exhaustion washes over you, fear pierces her nails into your skin. You can’t get Eddie’s terrified eyes out of your head. The way his voice trembled, the sticky blood on his fingernails from the skin he picked at.

If they’re back again, we need to know.

Vecna’s curse.

The static Eddie felt, Chrissy’s trance-like state. Her bones, the morbid angles they snapped. Barbara Holland, daughter and best friend. Bob Newby, superhero. Billy Hargrove, dearly missed son. Jim Hopper, renown chief and beloved father.

You’re the best of them, kid.

If the gate really has opened once again… Thick molasses grief coats your tongue and fills your mouth with remorse. There has been so much loss, so many funerals you’ve had to attend. Too many bodies buried without answers, without closure.

Over and over again.

“We’re here, Robin.” The gravel of Steve’s voice cuts through the endless dread. He parks the car in front of her driveway, the lights are off inside and you know that Robin is afraid of the dark.

“Need me to walk you in?” You ask her, quiet, but unyielding with all the love you have for her.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m brave, aren't I always brave?”

“The bravest,” Steve smiles at her, soft and unbroken. “Get some sleep, yeah?”

“I’ll… I’ll try.” Her facade slips, the fear that grips everyone tightens its hold. How could anyone sleep at a time like this? She shakes her head again, her smile returns, albeit forced, tired. Then she messily crawls over Dustin to exit the car, ignoring his cries of annoyance and pain when her elbow catches his ribs. “Sorry, little Henderson!”

“I don’t even let Steve call me that–”

“Too late, I’ve already decided to call you little Henderson,” Robin climbs out the car, lands with a soft thud on the pavement. She shuts the door with a glint in her eyes before poking her head through your passenger window. “Hey, uh. Y/N?” Her voice drops low, her eyes skirt to Steve, whose cool gaze meets her weary one. Robin clears her throat, you nod your head at her with slight concern. You know that she knows about your argument with Steve. He adores her, what he doesn’t confide in you, he confides in her. Knowing that Robin means well, you soften your voice. “Yeah?”

Robin hesitates, caught between her two favorite people in the entire world. Steve sees her hesitancy and sighs, turning away to provide some semblance of privacy. Relieved, Robin ducks her head down and whispers into your ear, “Talk to him.”

She’s gone before you can exhale.

Steve starts the car again after Robin has safely made it inside her home. Max and Dustin are quiet in the backseat. As Steve drives, his fingers absentmindedly play with the frayed edges of his leather bracelet. It had been a gift from you, the word constants etched into the material.

Constants. You were Steve’s constant, he was yours. Through everything you’ve been through together, all the heartbreak suffered in order to fall into one another, he’s the constant within your life.

Now you’re afraid that you’re losing him.

There’s still so much Steve doesn’t know. There are stories about your father that you still need to tell him about. Words Jonathan told you last night, the dangerous what if he brought into your life. You’re terrified of how Steve will react, he’s always been so trusting of you and Jonathan even after knowing the history you share.

And yet Steve also doesn’t know that the future you see involves him, that he’s in it with as much certainty as the sky is blue; you just don’t know how to tell him this, how to articulate the abandonment that sits heavy within your chest that prohibits you from getting what you want in the end.

You have to talk to him. Steve deserves to know everything, all he’s ever asked of you is to be honest with him.

The broken lamppost in front of Max’s trailer greets you. Steve slows the car, puts it into park. His eyes find hers in the rearview mirror. “This is you, Mayfield.”

“Thanks,” Max responds quietly. She goes to open the car door, but you turn in your seat and stop her.

“Hey, look at me.” Your tone leaves no room for arguments. She listens, her blue eyes meeting your gaze. For a moment you see Billy’s eyes reflecting within hers. It’s only for a brief second, it ends before you can even realize what’s happened. Startled, you momentarily choke on your words. “I–”

Max raises an eyebrow at you. You’ve been acting strange all night, she doesn’t understand why. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Her words couldn’t be more ironic, more painful to hear. “I-I’m sorry.” Billy is dead, he’s gone. You shake your head, try to get his eyes out of your head. “Just… promise me you’ll call if anything happens, please?”

You know that Max isn’t in any danger, she’s safe at home with her mother, but across the street resides yellow caution tape and boarded up windows. Eddie’s trailer is across from Max’s, the proximity makes you uncomfortable. It’s an eerie feeling, Chrissy died here last night.

Max seems to understand your concern, and she allows herself to nod. She doesn’t want to fight you, not tonight. “I will, promise.”

Squeezing her hand, you leave Max with a soft reminder to get some sleep. She smiles, a hidden joke between the two of you. Both of you know that there will be no sleeping tonight.

Once she’s gone, it’s just you, Steve, and Dustin remaining in the car. Tension creeps slowly upon the three of you. Dustin’s never ending annoyance towards you clashes with all the unspoken words left floating between you and Steve.

Dustin coughs awkwardly. Steve’s fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel. You keep your head down, your fingers pick at the skin between your nails. The ten minute drive from Max’s house to yours is unbearably long. Stuck at one of Hawkins’ only stop lights, Dustin can’t take the silence any longer.

“Well, this is awkward.” He says to no one in particular. “Lots of tension tonight, huh?”

Neither you nor Steve laugh, and Dustin rests his head against the seat in defeat. He understands why you and him aren’t talking, he’s still angry with you for holding a knife to Eddie’s neck. What he doesn’t understand, however, is why there seems to be so much distance between you and Steve tonight.

Normally you’d be all over one another by now. The two of you can never keep your hands off of each other. As much as Dustin hates it, he’s grown used to the way your hands are always intertwined with Steve’s. Whenever he’s in the car with you guys, your hand always rests against Steve’s arm as he drives. At red lights Steve will always turn to you, pulled in by your smile.

Except tonight Dustin doesn’t think he’s seen Steve look at you once during the drive home. Your hand rests softly at your side, balled into a small fist. There’s a coldness between the two of you, one Dustin is ashamed to admit that he hadn’t noticed before.

Then he remembers last night. He’d been too lost in his anger towards you to recognize the tears in your voice. He hadn’t even stopped to consider that you wanted a code blue for any other reason besides lecturing him. His stomach twists with guilt at his own selfish actions.

Something happened between you and Steve, and you had needed your brother last night. But he had abandoned you, denied the code blue you’d needed so desperately.

When Steve’s car pulls into your driveway, Dustin runs out as soon as the vehicle stops. He’s frantic to escape his guilt, to escape the chasm that surrounds you and Steve. Slamming the door, he shouts, “Talk to each other!” Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Good luck, Steve!”

The slam of the door echoes into the night.

It’s just you and Steve, now.

The air stills between you, reminiscent of the night you drove him home from the Halloween party. A year has passed since then, it’s been so long since Steve’s presence made you feel anything other than peace. The strings that have always followed you constrict against your throat.

“We need to talk,” Steve says, but at the same time you say, “We need to talk about Jonathan.”

The words come tumbling out of your mouth, slipping through the grooves of your teeth before you can stop them. They’d been building within you all day, fizzling to the surface. And now they spill out into the silence of Steve’s car.

His head turns to you, the street lights illuminate the shock and confusion on his handsome face. It pinches with bewilderment, he doesn’t understand. He had been ready to apologize to you, despite still not being able to comprehend how you don’t see a future with him. Steve doesn’t want to fight with you anymore, he was ready to just forgive and forget and hold your hand without the weight of guilt behind it.

Steve had been ready to salvage your relationship, and now you want to talk about Jonathan?

“Jonathan?” Shamefully, his voice cracks. He feels like a helpless little kid again, his stomach twists with the foreboding nausea that something bad is about to happen. “Why… why do you want to talk about him?”

The raw frailty on Steve’s face almost kills you. He’s drawing into himself again, preparing for the final blow that will decimate him and everything he knows.

You take a deep breath. This won’t be easy, nothing you’ve ever had to do has been easy. But Steve deserves to know. To hide something from him feels foreign, to lie to him feels like a betrayal.

“Jonathan, he–” Your voice shakes almost as violently as your hands do. Steve is looking at you but you can’t bear to face him just yet. “He called me last night, after our… after our fight.”

“What did he say, Y/N?” Steve knows, even before you tell him, where this is going. The light in your eyes whenever you talk about Jonathan is gone. His name doesn’t grace your face with a smile. Instead, the grimace of guilt replaces it. Steve’s stomach twists into tighter knots. It’s happening again.

Inhaling, you close your eyes and try to commit to memory the before. How Steve looked at you with such adoration before tonight. How his soft hands, laced with trust, felt against your skin before tonight. His open gaze, one filled with vulnerability, stared into you before tonight.

Opening your eyes, you exhale. Nothing will ever be the same again. “Jonathan asked me if I ever wondered if… if we made a mistake. Him and I.”

“A mistake?” Steve’s jaw tightens.

“I think-I think he was asking me if I ever… thought about what could’ve happened between us. If somehow,” you swallow, the words cement in your mouth. “If-if somehow we made a mistake, choosing you and Nancy.”

Steve is quiet. The muscles in his body pull tightly together. He fills with venom, anger and jealousy and hurt; so much hurt. “And you think he’s right.”

It isn’t phrased as a question.

Immediately your body turns to his. “No! God, no,” your hands search for any expanse of his skin you can find. Steve doesn’t lean into you, he doesn’t react to your touch. Panic overwhelms you, suddenly all you can do is talk and plead and beg. “Steve, I don’t think Jonathan even knew what he was saying, okay? H-he was high, and he’s been so lonely and-and he kept saying things were easy between me and him but-but that’s not how love is supposed to work and I know he’s just scared. He’s scared and he’s never been so alone before and I think-he’s just lost, okay? He’s lost and–”

“Why are you telling me this, Y/N?” The hardness in Steve’s voice cuts into you, stings your skin. He isn’t screaming, not like he did last night, but you almost wish he were. The way his voice is leveled, cold and hard, scares you even more.

“Would you rather I didn’t?” You’re helpless against his anger, you know he has every right to be, but you don’t know how to fix this.

Steve laughs bitterly. “I’d rather you not make shitty excuses for the asshole.”

“I’m not making excuses for him, I just wanted you to understand–”

“You are!” His voice raises slightly, almost imperceptibly so, but you hear it anyways. Steve’s chest rises and falls quickly. His hands fly wildly everywhere, he doesn’t know what to do, either. Then, almost as quickly as the anger surfaced, insecurity replaces it. “Is… Jonathan why you don’t see a future with me?”

Your fingers tighten around his wrist, almost as if you’re afraid he’ll slip between your fingers any second now. “I do see a future with you–”

“Pretty fucking hard to believe when you’re wearing the goddamn necklace he got you.” The words drip with acid. They’re hissed out with a jaw clenched so tightly you’re afraid he’ll somehow hurt himself.

The words startle you, catch you off guard. Your hand slips from Steve’s wrist. He’s never once insinuated any jealousy regarding you and Jonathan. He’s always been so trusting of you two together, he’s always been kind towards him. He always knew that he could never touch what you guys have, and yet his gaze now flickers cruelly to the bee pendant that rests against your neck.

What Steve has said hurts you, deeper than he ever intended to. He knows how you love, how deeply you care for others. It’s who you are. Regardless of the hurt he may be feeling right now, it doesn’t give him the right to throw this crucial part of you back in your face.

“I’m made of pieces of everyone I’ve ever loved, Steve. You know this.” The bee pendant rests against your skin as heavily as the charm bracelet does.

And Steve does know that you’re made of pieces of everyone in your life. It’s what he loves the most about you. His eyes follow where your fingers reside, skimming the silver chain that encases your wrist. He hadn’t meant to say what he did, the words had slipped out before he could stop them.

“Y/N…” Your name is spoken as an apology, it’s all Steve can manage in his shame.

But the moment is ruined, you’re exhausted and all you want to do is go home.

You shake your head at Steve, try to hide the tears in your eyes. He sees them anyways. “Can I leave, please?”

The way you ask so delicately to escape breaks Steve. Something in his chest shatters, his mouth fills with the taste of a broken promise. You don’t need his permission, he hates that you feel that you do.

“Yeah,” his voice is softer than it’s been all night, but it’s too late. He knows this. Swallowing, all Steve can do is be gentle with you. “Yeah, of course you can leave, angel.”

Angel.

You nod at him; if you try to speak you’re afraid you’ll break before him.

No other words are spoken between you. Steve watches as you leave.

–

The next morning you sit hunched over a mug of coffee, more exhausted than ever before. You haven’t slept properly in days now. Dustin finds you with dark circles under your eyes and a pathetic bowl of cereal before you. From the dazed look in your eyes, he knows you haven’t noticed his arrival, and he awkwardly clears his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh.” He scratches the back of his neck, your eyes are slow to look up at him. Pointing to your coffee, Dustin raises his eyebrows. “Rough night, I take it?”

You nod, too tired to say anything else. The cereal goes uneaten. Dustin doesn’t think your coffee is even warm anymore, he hadn’t heard you wake up this morning. He’s worried that you never even went to bed last night. You’re pale, sickly so, and Dustin hates that he hadn’t noticed the signs sooner.

“Hey,” he pulls a chair beside you, sits down with a playful shove to your shoulder. He’s your brother, it’s his job to take care of you just as much as it’s yours to take care of him. It’s how the two of you have always been.

For Dustin’s entire life you’ve looked after him, kissing his scraped knees and warding off monsters hidden underneath his bed. When your father left, the depression your mother fell into afterwards left Dustin clinging onto you. You were all he had left.

Dustin leans against you, he used to do this when he was a little kid and could still fit between your arms. Resting his head against yours, shoulders pressed together, the angle is awkward and uncomfortable, but it’s safe. “Is it too late to have that code blue?”

It’s a peace offering, an extension of an apology, and you can’t help but smile at your brother. Hand finding his mess of curls, you ruffle his hair and laugh softly. “Yeah, guess we can have a code blue now.”

“Good, you know I always love to shit talk Steve.” Dustin says with humor. You both know he admires the boy.

“Language,” you remind him as you always do. Dustin knocks his head against yours in response and the two of you break into laughter; laughing with your brother again feels good.

In between sips of cold coffee and bites of soggy cereal, you tell Dustin about Steve. You explain the original argument a few nights ago, how he didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want him to follow you to New York.

“It’s what mom did with dad,” Dustin says, looking down at the table.

You nod at him, you knew he’d understand better than anyone. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Does he know what happened with dad?”

“No, and I know I should explain what he did, but there’s–” You cut yourself off. Dustin would kill Jonathan with his bare hands if he found out about the phone call. Even though it technically goes against the rules of a code blue, you can’t tell Dustin about Jonathan. Not yet, at least. Clearing your throat, you continue. “There’s… other things that have prevented me from explaining dad to Steve.”

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Other things?”

“Other things,” you look pointedly at him, standing your ground about not elaborating. He denied your original code blue. You’re allowed to lie this one time. “And now Steve thinks that I don’t see a future with him.”

“Well then he’s an idiot.” Your brother scoffs. Anyone with eyes can see how much you fawn over Steve. Dustin has watched you fall for him for years now. “You’re practically ready to marry the guy.”

Taking a bite of cereal, you grimace slightly. “Okay, marriage is a little much–”

“Tell that to mom, she’s already started planning the wedding.”

Of course she has. She wouldn’t be Claudia Henderson if she wasn’t already planning the names of her grandchildren from Steve.

The bite of cereal turns into cement, your heartbeat pounds against your throat. With everything going on with Steve, the hurt the two of you have brought down upon the other, you’re not even sure there will be a wedding at the rate things are going.

As the days go on, you can feel Steve slipping away from you more and more.

Dustin must sense that the subject is hurting you, so he stands from his seat and claps his hands together. “Alright, I feel like we’ve covered our bases for a code blue. Checked all the boxes, felt the feelings needed to be felt.”

“I don’t like the feelings being felt,” you mumble, shoving your bowl away. You’re still drawn into yourself, pale and frail and unlike the lively girl your brother has come to miss. He knows things have been difficult between the two of you, a strain that can’t quite be loosened.

Dustin falters, his bravado fades. He sighs again and his hand settles against your shoulder. He looks at you with sincerity, his expression softens. “Look, you and Steve will figure things out. You guys always do.”

And he truly believes this. Steve loves you with such a ferocity that rivals your love for him. Dustin can’t imagine a world in which you’re no longer with Steve, where he’s let go of you and allowed you to walk away.

Except Dustin doesn’t know how to express this to you, but you can understand him anyways. Placing your hand over his, you squeeze it. “Thanks, Dustin.”

He smiles back at you and the code blue is over. The moment lingers for only a second longer before he frowns and sits back down next to you. “Do you think Eddie will be okay?”

And there it is. Eddie fucking Munson again.

Shoving down your annoyance, you force yourself to focus on the situation from last night. As hurt as you are that Dustin wants to talk about Eddie right now, you can understand why he would. Chrissy died in front of him, he’s being accused of murder.

You’re just being childish, easily irritated from lack of sleep and the stress of it all.

“I don’t know, I mean…the cops will be looking for him.” With ease you fall back into strategizing, putting the situation above your own thoughts and feelings. Your mind spins with everything you need to do, trying to come up with whatever you can do to help. “If we have any shot of protecting him, we need to figure out what they know.”

Dustin nods, following along. “Cerebro can tap into the Hawkins PD system, we can easily get intel from there.”

“It terrifies me that Cerebro can hack into our town’s police system.”

“Be grateful I stopped there, Suzie wouldn’t let me use it to tap into NASA.”

You learn two things after using Cerebro to gather information.

One, the radio is far too powerful to reside in your fourteen year old brother’s hands. He’s able to access the PD system with incredible ease, almost as if he’s done so before. It’d be impressive if you didn’t know the horrors that went on inside the kid’s head.

Two, Eddie is well and truly fucked.

He’s the main suspect. They think he’s killed Chrissy and have every man in the force scouring Hawkins to find him. Her death was gruesome, you understand the manhunt that unfolds. Dustin, however, nearly loses his mind when he hears chief Powell instructing his men to search Eddie’s neighborhood for the teen.

“We have to go warn him,” Dustin scrambles to his feet, the chair almost toppling over in his haste. “We need to leave, now.”

There isn’t time to argue, Dustin is already ringing Steve’s number. Either he’s already forgotten about your argument with the teen, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Regardless, the thought of seeing Steve again so soon after last night makes your stomach churn. You want to stop Dustin, make up some excuse to him about why you can’t help Eddie, but you know it wouldn’t matter. Your brother would only beg you to come, your worry for him would force you to listen.

All you can do is drop your head into your hands and sigh.

–

It was your idea to stop and get Eddie food.

Steve had arrived at your house within minutes. Dustin immediately went for the passenger seat, which was more than okay with you, and Steve had mumbled a soft “hello” to the two of you. His greeting went ignored by you, still trying to find your breath around him, and Dustin, who promptly demanded that Steve pick up Robin and Max before returning to the boathouse.

Halfway to Max’s, the silence in the car was thickening rapidly, so you offhandedly suggested stopping at the local grocery store to get Eddie some food and water. You figured he would appreciate the small act of kindness, especially considering the grime news you’d be delivering to him soon. That, and it’d give you an excuse to leave Steve’s car for a few moments and steady your breathing.

The boathouse isn’t nearly as creepy in the daylight, but still you make sure your knives are in your pocket before approaching it. Robin walks beside you, helping you and Dustin carry the groceries, while Max and Steve walk silently behind.

“Think we got him enough?” Robin asks, holding up one of the grocery bags. “I mean, don’t stoners eat a lot? Munchies or whatever?”

Rolling your eyes, you undo one of the buttons on your sweater, allowing the crisp spring air to soak your body. The sun is too warm to be worrying about whatever stoners eat. “If he complains, then he can starve.”

“Cat’s got claws today,” Robin nudges you with her arm. Turning to make sure Steve is far enough away so he doesn’t overhear, she lowers her voice. “Guessing the talk didn’t go well last night?”

“Oh, it was just peachy,” you grit out through a forced smile. “But we have to focus on harboring a murder suspect right now.” Because nothing in your life can ever be simple. If you aren’t hunting monsters, you’re protecting the town. If you aren’t protecting the town, you’re fighting alternate dimensions.

Robin opens her mouth to say something, but Dustin shoulders past her and bursts through the boathouse doors, ending your conversation. “Delivery service!”

Eddie nearly has a heart attack at the abrupt entrance. He jumps out of his skin and clutches at his chest after letting out a very unmanly yelp. The reaction is almost enough to brighten your foul mood, momentarily forgetting that Steve stands behind you.

“Someone’s jumpy,” you sidestep your brother and walk over towards the table. Setting the groceries down, you begin to unload them. “We got you some food, but please don’t eat it all at once. I really don’t want to spend any more money on you.”

“Thanks…?” Eddie slowly approaches you, both relieved for the food and offended you seem so begrudged to have gotten it for him in the first place. From his few interactions with you since last night, he’s coming to learn that you’re far from the girl who showed him such selfless kindness all those years ago.

Eddie doesn’t think you even remember what you did for him. He had been at such a low point in his life, one failed exam away from dropping out of high school and disappointing his uncle, until you appeared. It’d been your sophomore year, Eddie’s failed one, and you had given him your pencil.

The action had been small, meniscal, yet it saved Eddie’s life. He hadn’t brought his own pencil for some stupid English exam. He’d been too nervous for it that he had forgotten his, and Mrs. Greer, the teacher who couldn’t have cared less whether or not Eddie died, threatened to fail him.

The threat sank deep into his bones, freezing his intestines with dread. Eddie had promised his uncle he’d try harder in school, that he’d graduate, and yet he couldn't do something as simple as bringing a pencil to an exam. Close to tears, embarrassed and overwhelmed, Eddie almost hadn’t registered your softly whispered voice.

“Here,” you tapped his shoulder. Eddie remembers turning around, surprised you were even talking to him, and he remembers the immediate relief that sagged his bones when he saw the pencil extended in offering. He had nodded curtly at you before frantically rushing to begin the exam. He’d already wasted five minutes, he couldn’t afford any more.

It would only be later that Eddie learned you willingly failed the exam because you’d given him your only pencil, just so he wouldn’t fail. In the end, he passed. It was the first exam Eddie had passed in a long, long time; his uncle had been so proud of him that he bought him his electric guitar.

Eddie never thanked you for that.

And now you stand in front of him, once again extending your arm out to him with yet another offering, but your eyes are cold. Your body is tense around Eddie’s, he doesn’t miss the wide berth you seem to always give him.

“Thanks,” he says to you again, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He accepts the box of cereal you offer him and he wills himself to smile. “I, uh. Appreciate it. I’d offer to pay you back, but…”

“You’re wanted for murder.” You finish for Eddie.

He drops his head. “Yeah, it kinda ruins a person’s life, ya know?”

“I don’t, actually. Never been accused of killing someone.”

Eddie blinks at you. He doesn’t know what to do with the disdain you display towards him. “Right.” He looks at Dustin for help, silently begging the kid to step in before you gut him with your knives.

“Okay, why don’t you crack open that box of honey combs while we all gather around for a fun story time!” Dustin sets down the remaining groceries and ushers everyone to spread around the boathouse.

“‘Storytime’?” Eddie asks him, looking around in confusion.

“Y/N and Dustin did some detective work,” Robin offers him, trying to make her voice sound as cheery as possible. “They-uh. Well they found-I mean,” she doesn’t know how to break the news to Eddie, she feels awful for the guy. Deflating, she mumbles, “They’re definitely good detectives.”

Eddie only looks more confused by this, and Dustin sits down awkwardly on a stool next to you. “So, we got, uh. Some good news and some bad news.”

You snort at your brother. Steve stands next to you, his body angled away from you so that your skin doesn’t touch. The distance is small enough to go unnoticed by anyone, yet it’s a chasm that your stomach drops into. “That’s really how you’re gonna break it to him?”

“What are you guys breaking to me?” Eddie asks, eyes wide.

Dustin hits your leg and gets the teen’s attention. “Ignore her, look at me, alright? Now, how do you prefer it? Good or bad first?”

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie doesn’t even think about his answer, he responds immediately while shoving cereal into his mouth.

“The bad news is that you’re pretty fucked.” You inform him, arms crossed over your chest. There’s no easy way to lessen the blow of what you overhead from Hawkins PD. The news is bad, it’s all bad.

Dustin snaps his head towards you, “Y/N!”

“I’m not going to lie to the guy or sugarcoat things!”

“Would you just let me handle it–”

“Dustin,” Eddie hasn’t moved from his seat. His hand remains in the cereal box, his voice jagged and defeated. He’s tired. He just wants to go home. “Just say it.”

Your brother’s shoulders drop, the anger in his eyes extinguished. “We… We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you.”

“Chief Powell thinks you killed Chrissy.” Unable to look at Eddie, your eyes trace the ground. As much as you hate him, you can’t help but feel awful for the hand he’s been dealt. No one will possibly believe he’s innocent. “He ordered all his men to track you down before word gets out that you’re the prime suspect.”

“Which leads us to the good news: your name hasn’t gone public yet.” Robin continues for you, her own expression pitying. “But if Y/N and Dustin could find out about you during breakfast, then it’s a matter of time before others do, too.”

“And once that gets out,” you shake your head, you know how cruel a small town like Hawkins can be. “There’s going to be a lot of angry people who know your name.”

Eddie clenches his jaw. You can see tears forming in his eyes; you’re not sure if they’re from frustration or fear. He inhales sharply, licks his lips in disdain. “Hunt the freak, right?”

It’s the way he says it, with so much despair and venom in his voice. The look of resignation on Eddie’s face breaks your heart. He knows his odds, he’s been tormented and abused his entire life by the people in Hawkins. You’ve heard all the stories. The exile he faced because of how he looked, who he would hang out with, the music he listened to and the drugs he smoked.

Eddie Munson, the freak. The moment the town finds out he’s wanted for murder, you’re afraid he’ll never come out of it alive.

The ice-hot contempt you feel for him begins to melt. He’s only a year or two older than you, still just a scared kid with no place to call home anymore. Despite the protests of your body, you step towards Eddie and place a hand on his shoulder. Your hand is tense, your fingers scratch on the rough material of his denim jacket, but he seems to calm at the touch.

“Hey, we’ll protect the freak, alright?” You mean what you tell him, your hand warms his skin. Whatever history you have with Eddie, good or bad, it doesn’t matter right now. He needs you, he’s lost and alone.

Eddie looks up at you, your kindness startles him slightly, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his eyes find yours. They’re brown, almost doe-eyed, with a vulnerability within them so intense that it leaves a lump in your throat.

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Eddie.” Dustin’s voice cuts through, reminding you of where you are. Stumbling slightly, you remove your hand and walk back over to Steve, who gives you an odd, confused look. You ignore him. “We have to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.”

“That’s all, Dustin?” Eddie mocks, he doesn’t stand a chance and he knows it.

Dustin draws into himself, uncertain, before letting out a feeble response. You allow yourself to smile, enjoying his wallowing. You understand where Eddie is coming from. “It is a lot that we have to do in order to clear his name.”

“Okay, I know that everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this before.” Robin tries to reassure him. She’s leaning against a doorframe, she’s trying her best not to let her own uncertainty show.

“We’ve been here before,” you say with slight bitterness. “You’d be surprised how many times we’ve almost died.”

Robin laughs nervously. “Well, mine was more human-flesh-based, theirs was more smoke-related. I didn’t necessarily almost die, but Y/N has some pretty sick scars on her body and Steve has been concussed more times than he’s had girlfriends–”

“Get to the point, Robin.” Steve finally speaks up, no hint of amusement in his voice. His hand rests besides yours, his fingers ache to curl against your skin. You’re wearing a soft blue sweater, tucked into your skirt, and your eyes shine against the spring cold. He doesn’t want to be here right now.

“Right. The bottom line is, collectively, I really feel we got this.”

Unable to bear the itch in his skin to touch you, Steve brings his hand to his face and rubs at his jaw to distract himself. “Except we usually rely on this girl who has superpowers, but-uh. Those went bye-bye, so–”

“And she’s in California, hundreds of miles from here.” You add on, picking at your nails. The topic makes you uncomfortable. With California comes the reminder of Jonathan.

Robin points at you and Steve. “Both good points, so I guess you could say we’re more in the-in the…?”

“Brainstorming phase.” Max supplies, which Steve snaps his fingers in agreement and Dustin hums thoughtfully.

“There’s-uh. There’s nothing to worry about!” Your brother says unconvincingly, voice high pitched and full of lies.

Eddie stares at everyone around him, studying the collective mess that he somehow must place all his trust in. None of you can give him a straight answer about what will happen next, and as you listen to Steve and Dustin try again to make sense of what’s going on, you recognize how hopeless it all sounds.

“We may not sound like much,” you interrupt the boys, trying again to ease the hopelessness Eddie must be feeling. “But we’re kind of your only option right now–”

The distant wailing of sirens drown out your words, loud and piercing. The sound sets everyone into a panic. Robin instructs Dustin to cover Eddie with a tarp while you, Max, and Steve run towards the window. Squished together, you watch as multiple cop cars fly down the street with an ambulance following them; your breath catches.

The last time you saw this many cop cars speeding through Hawkins, they had been a dead body in the quarry. It had been Will’s body, lifeless and pale. You had watched as his body was pulled from the water, you held Lucas and Dustin as they cried.

Only this time Will is in California, far away from danger. The onslaught of cars can only mean one thing.

“I think…” Your mouth fills with syrupy dread, coating your tongue with grief. Breathing becomes difficult. You hope, more than anything, that you’re wrong. “I think someone else died.”

The moment the words leave your lips, Steve grabs his keys and instructs everyone to get into his car. He doesn't ask any questions, he doesn’t question how you know. Dustin quickly tells Eddie to stay in the boathouse while you leave.

Your eyes squeeze shut as Steve drives, your hand clutches the seat in terror. Every second that passes, your body becomes heavier and heavier from dread. Steve’s knuckles are white against the steering wheel. Robin can’t look at you, Max and Dustin don’t say a word.

The white blanket draped over a body is what you see first. A horde of police surround it, there are lights flashing everywhere. People crowd behind a barricade, necks straining to get a look at the body on the ground.

Then you see who the cops are talking to, and your heart drops.

“Nancy,” you breathe out, already opening Steve’s door before he can even park the car. Something terrible has happened. Nancy stands in front of the officers, her arms crossed against her chest as if to calm herself down. She’s never looked so weak, she needs you.

Standing outside the car, the others join you. Steve has parked as close as he can to the crime scene, no one moves. Nancy releases a shaky breath when her eyes find yours. Raising her hand, she waves at you, unsure, and you wave back. She smiles, timid but genuine, and a pit forms in your stomach.

You haven’t told Nancy about Jonathan.

Steve looks away from her, gaze turning towards you, and he’s thinking the same thing.

–

Nancy guides everyone to a park bench at the trailer park. She doesn’t say anything as you all walk, her eyes are exhausted. The police hadn’t wanted her to leave just yet, they had more questions for her, but you’d quickly spoke with the men to let her go.

Sitting around the table, a bitter cold creeps into the air. The sun is out yet winter still lingers. Nancy sits across from you with Robin and Max next to her. You’re with the boys, Steve pushes his weight against you while Dustin sits stiffly beside you.

Seeing Nancy’s sunken cheeks and glass eyes, you reach across the table and grab her hand. “What happened, Nance?”

Tears well in her eyes and for once she doesn’t wipe them away. Nancy’s hand twitches in yours, she doesn’t hold onto you like you do her. She’s grieving, you’ve come to learn all the signs of someone who has lost a friend. “It-it’s Fred.”

She explains what they’d been doing, investigating Chrissy’s death at the trailer park. Guilt laces her words, she didn’t think anything would happen to Fred. He’s always been sweet to her, his crush obvious to you but unknown to her. A shiver runs through you; Fred was smart, he was nice to you whenever you spent your days in the yearbook room.

He didn’t deserve to die. Neither did Chrissy.

“That makes two deaths in two days,” you say out loud, voicing what everyone else is thinking. Death is common in Hawkins, an inevitability of what lies underneath it, but there’s never been such gruesome deaths so close together. “It’s happening again.”

“What’s happening again?” Nancy shakes her head. “I-I don’t understand, you guys already know what’s causing all of this?”

“We have a working theory, but it’s… not great.” Dustin slouches down, he isn’t sure how much he can explain to the girl with all that he still doesn’t know. “We think it’s connected to Chrissy’s death, something killed her in Eddie’s trailer. He told us she had gone into some sort of trance before her bones snapped and her eyes exploded..”

Nancy grimaces at the gory imagery and you squeeze her hand again. “I’m sorry about Fred.”

She gives you a tight smile before turning to your brother. “A trance? Like El? You aren’t… do you really think this has something to do with–”

“The Upside Down.” You and Max say at the same time.

“‘It’s happening again’,” Nancy echoes your words from moments ago. She understands, now. “So this-this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy is from the Upside Down?”

Steve nods at her and Dustin sighs heavily. “We think he attacks with a spell, or maybe even a curse.”

“But we don’t know if he’s under the Mind Flayer’s control,” you point out. “For all we know, he could just be someone with El’s powers. We know the lab tested on other kids, right?”

Max looks up at you and her face twists with apprehension. “I don’t know, something feels different about this, it’s almost like it’s something new. I don’t think it’s anyone like El.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Nancy mumbles.

“No, I think Max is right. Something feels off about all of this.” Your arms draw together, it’s impossibly cold for late March. The chill has set into your bones.

Nancy nods at you, but there’s something else on her mind. “But Fred and Chrissy also don’t make sense. I mean, why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place? They were both at the game.” Dustin offers, and you shiver again.

Billy had been in the wrong place, too. It’s how the Mind Flayer got him. He’d just been unlucky and alone.

“And the trailer park,” Max adds.

Steve’s eyes widen slightly, he shifts against you and unconsciously moves you closer to him. “We’re at the trailer park, should we… maybe not be here?”

The wind picks up and a crow cries overhead. The barren grass rustles as shadows fall against it. Your spine prickles with nerves. Steve is right to be worried. There’s something eerie about the trailer park, the caution tape that guards Eddie’s door is still too fresh.

You wrap your sweater tighter to your body, cold with unease. Nancy’s eyes flicker around the park as the wind rustles the leaves. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

Robin asks what she means, and when Nancy begins to explain how scared and on edge Fred had been, a dull throb slowly creeps up the base of your neck. The sensation builds until it’s a roar of nerve endings exploding against your temple, and you wince in pain.

Steve’s fingers skim the crest of your wrist. “Hey,” he’s lowered his voice so the others can’t hear, he knows you never like to worry others. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” the concern in Steve’s eyes burns you. He hasn’t spoken to you all day, but still his skin warms yours and he wants to make sure you’re safe. Comfortable. Okay. Even with the anger between you and all the unspoken half-truths, he still cares about you.

You want to tell him that you haven’t slept in days, that the nightmares are back and that they’re worse than ever before. You want to rest your head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. It’s the only way you’ve been able to keep the migraines at bay.

But you don’t tell Steve any of this. Instead, you lie through your teeth. “I’m fine,” you reassure him again. There isn’t time for you not to be okay. Two people have died already, your migraines can wait.

Steve doesn’t look convinced. He knows you, he knows how you are and how much you push down for the sake of others, but before he can press you further, Robin interrupts. “Hey, lovebirds, we’re trying to solve a murder case here.”

“I’m listening,” you roll your eyes at her, skin flushing a bit with embarrassment. “Anyways, what if Fred and Chrissy saw something that made them go catatonic? I think we should be focusing on the trace-like state more, it’s a trauma response.”

“What, so they’re insane asylum patients?” Dustin asks with slight displeasure. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. But Vecna can cast spells, at least in DnD. I don’t think they just ‘saw’ something.”

Steve scratches his nose. “If I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.”

“Would you, though?” You don’t mean for the question to come off as condescending, and you quickly try to alleviate the offended look on the teen’s face. “What I mean is, who would you go to about something like that?”

“I… I think I know who they’d go to.” Max stares down at the table, her eyebrows furrowed together. She’s deep in thought, remembering something. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelly’s office. If you saw a monster, you wouldn’t go to the police.”

“They’d never believe you,” you bear your weight against the table. Nostalgia wraps around you at the memory of how scared you’d been to tell Hopper about El, the years it took for you to trust him. “That’s why I never went to Hopper when I first found El.”

Max nods, she’s relieved you get where she’s going with this. “Exactly, but you might go to your–”

“Shrink.” Robin finishes, sending you an apologetic smile for the offensive language against the profession you hope to one day go into. “No offense, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, feeling defensive. “Again with calling Ms. Kelly a shrink. She’s not a shrink, she’s actually really nice.”

“You sound like you know her personally.” Dustin narrows his eyes at you. Nothing goes unnoticed by him.

All eyes turn to you, and you sink down in embarrassment. “I’ve… had a few meetings with her.”

Simultaneously both Steve and Dustin widen their eyes. They hadn’t known you were seeing Ms. Kelly. Nancy looks at you curiously, Robin bites her lip, and Max nods solemnly. It’s a large range of reactions, one that makes you anxious to deal with. “Can everyone stop staring at me, please?”

Steve lets out a quick breath and runs a hand through his hair. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing the school’s guidance counselor, Y/N.”

“She didn’t tell me, either.” Dustin mumbles bitterly. You’ve never hidden anything from him before. He wonders, distantly, when you started to.

“I didn’t want to worry you guys, it really isn’t a big deal.” When both boys bristle at this, you hold your hand up to silence them. “No, I don’t want to hear it. It’s not like I was seeing Ms. Kelly for anything serious, okay? She’s the guidance counselor, so I just. You know. Needed some guidance.”

It’s a horrible lie, you know that no one believes you, but they take pity on you and move on. Originally you really were seeing Ms. Kelly for college admissions help, but after a few sessions you slowly started opening up to her about the sleepless nights. The image of Billy’s lifeless body. Max’s screams.

Nancy clears her throat and changes the topic. She comes up with what to do next, creating a plan to ask Ms. Kelly what she knows, and you sit silently. You’re relieved the attention is finally off of you. Within minutes a plan is formed: you and Max will talk to Ms. Kelly to try and get more information.

Steve agrees to drive to the house. As you’re walking to his passenger side door, he notices that Nancy isn’t following. Instead, she’s going to her own car. “Hey, Nance. Where’re you going?”

Nancy turns around, a guilty but determined look on her face. Her eyes land on you, knowing you’ll be the hardest to convince of her plan. “There’s just-there’s something I want to check on first.”

Predictably, your shoulders tense and your eyes ignite with worry. “Please don’t make me remind you that there are people dying right now. You can’t seriously think it’s safe to be on your own.”

“I can protect myself, Y/N.” Nancy reminds you gently, understanding your concern but knowing it isn’t needed.

“You care to share with the rest of us?” Dustin calls over to the two of you.

“I don’t want to waste your time,” Nancy shoves her hands into her jean jacket. “It’s… a real shot in the dark.”

You frown at this. “If it’s something you think is worth looking into, then it isn’t a shot in the dark. You’ve always been right.”

Nancy blushes at your words, but Steve silently fumes beside you. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you guys out of your mind? No way is Nancy flying solo with Vecna on the loose.”

“I never said that she should fly solo,” you say slowly, not at all liking how he’s twisting your words. You had been complimenting Nancy’s intelligence, restoring her faith back into her work. You don’t understand where this protectiveness from Steve is coming from. “I know it’s too dangerous, that’s why I was going to suggest–”

“You’re right. It’s too dangerous. Bottom line. She needs someone to-Christ.” Steve isn’t listening. He’s too caught up in his head as tosses his keys to Robin, who only barely manages to catch them. “Here, Y/N and I will stick with Nance.”

You cross your arms and glare at him. “I’m sorry?”

Steve doesn’t look at you, he’s too busy staring at Nancy, and for a brief second you truly believe that there’s something soft in his gaze when he looks at her. They’re friends, you know this. There’s a history between them that rivals your history with Jonathan. Nancy was Steve’s first love, and now he loves you, and you try desperately to shake the insecurity that you feel.

If you’re being completely honest, you’re not even sure why you’re suddenly thinking all of this. You’ve never been insecure, at least not in your relationship with Steve. During the almost year you’ve been with him, there’ve been times girls have flirted with him or old flings that have tried to vie for his attention. But through it all your trust in him never wavered, you knew that at the end of the day it was your bed he was crawling into.

And yet there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you that the way Steve is looking at Nancy right now is different; it’s how he looks at you. The voice is darker, more cruel. It’s one you don’t recognize, and yet you do.

Steve seems to come back to himself and turns to you. “Robin can go with the kids to the shrink. Max can talk to her alone, it’s no big deal.”

Robin holds the keys away from her as if they’re poisoned. “I don’t think you want me driving your car.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have a license.”

Steve shakes his head with impatience. “Why don’t you have a license?”

“I’m poor,” Robin shrugs, and you laugh slightly.

Max raises her hand. “I can drive.”

“No!” You and Steve exclaim at the same time, both of you getting war flashbacks to when Max had driven you after Billy had knocked you guys unconscious. It’d been a rough night and waking up to a thirteen year old driving a sports car definitely hadn't helped.

“Please,” you look at Max with genuine longing. “Never, ever drive me ever again.”

“Literally anyone but you–” Steve sees Dustin make a face, offering himself to drive, and the older teen snaps his fingers at him in annoyance. “No chance.”

You shake your head as well. No way in hell are you allowing the kid to drive either. “Absolutely not, Dustin. You couldn’t even drive a golf cart properly.”

“I did a decent job!”

“I still think you’re the one who gave Steve his third concussion with your horrible braking.”

“We were being chased by evil Russians!”

Robin steps between you and your brother, holding her hands up. “Alright, this is stupid.” She grabs Dustin’s walkie from his backpack and marches to Nancy while handing Steve his keys. “Us ladies, sans Y/N, will stick together. Unless Steve thinks we need him to protect us?”

She raises her eyebrows, challenging the teen, and you watch him. He shuffles nervously, ducks his head down. Steve is guilty and ashamed and embarrassed. Your stomach clenches.

“He knows better than to doubt you guys,” you step in for him, saving him. “Right, Steve?”

Nancy laughs at the look of fear on his face and Robin smirks. Satisfied, they turn around and start to head towards Nancy’s car. You wish them luck as they leave, tell them to be safe. They wave back at you, and although you wish you could join them, you know that Max will want you by her side while she talks to Ms. Kelly.

Once the girls are gone, you hit Steve’s chest. “Nice one, buddy.”

He lets out a pained huff, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows he had it coming. With a sigh he follows you back to his car and gets into the driver’s seat. Dustin stares at him through the rearview mirror with a shit eating grin on his face. Tired, Steve glares at him. “Not a word.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Dustin defends himself.

“No, but you were going to, and-hey,” Steve turns in his seat and glares even more at your brother. “Did you make sure to wipe your feet?”

“Yes,” Dustin says at the same time as you and Max say, “No.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and starts the car angrily. His movements are jerky and uncontrolled. “Always the goddamn babysitter!” He exclaims, resentment marring his face.

You jump slightly at his raised voice. He hates being sidelined, you know this. Similar to you, all Steve ever wants to do is help. He does whatever he can, he tries harder than anyone. It’s what you first fell for, back when Steve originally crashed into your life.

It’s because of his kindness and devotion to others that you reach for Steve’s hand. His skin is cold, goosebumps raise at your touch, but you interlock your fingers through his and slowly, piece by piece, Steve relaxes.

He’s missed your touch. You’ve missed his, too.

–

Ms. Kelly, to her credit, tries to mask her surprise when she sees you and Max standing at her door. “Oh, hello, girls.”

“Hi,” you smile kindly at the woman. “We really hate to bother you over spring break, but do you possibly have a minute to talk?”

“With the two of you?” Ms. Kelly knew that you and Max were both grieving Billy, but she hadn’t known that you knew each other. “Y/N, I’m sure you’re aware that this is highly unusual to request.”

You wince. “Yeah, I’m definitely aware that this is a pretty strange thing to ask. It’s just that I was the one who convinced Max to start seeing you in the first place, and now that I’m also seeing you, we figured we could… talk to you together?”

It’s a horrible excuse. The lie is vague and too transparent to believe. Neither you or Max had a lot of time to come up with a convincing cover story during the drive here.

“I don’t know,” Ms. Kelly’s face strains with contemplation.

Max softens her eyes and does her best to look small, pleading. “Please?”

You try to appear troubled as well, though it isn’t hard. Your headache hasn’t left. The pounding in your head has only intensified since leaving the trailer park. Ms. Kelly’s gaze flits between you and Max, reading for any signs of lying or ill-will, before her resolve crumbles.

“Oh, alright.” She opens her door wider, ushers the two of you inside. “Come in.”

Steve and Dustin watch as you disappear inside the house. They’ve parked across the street, opting to be the lookout in case anything happens. You spare one last glance over your shoulder, eyes meeting Steve’s, before Ms. Kelly closes the door.

“Okay, they’re in.” Steve states the obvious, slightly unsettled to be stuck in the car while you’re inside.

“I’m missing collarbones, not eyes.” Dustin snorts. He expects Steve to say something snarky in response, but then he notices that the teen is still staring longly out the window, tracing Ms. Kelly’s door. He looks pathetic, waiting for you, and Dustin sighs. “So… we gonna talk about it?”

Steve’s eyes linger on the doorway, a far off look on his face. When he realizes that Dustin has spoken, he turns to him slowly. “Huh? Sorry, talk about what?”

“Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance? In front of my sister?”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not what happened.”

Dustin glares at Steve, defensive over you. “Oh, really? I’m pretty sure it did, there were a lot of witnesses. Y/N included.”

“What are you implying, little Henderson?” Steve rubs his face, too tired for the kid’s mind games. He knows he was being weird earlier with Nancy, but he would never do that to you. Ever. He had simply been overwhelmed and confused and feeling a multitude of things that he still isn’t ready to face.

“I’m not implying anything,” Dustin puts his hands up. “All I’m saying is that I know you and Y/N have been fighting lately and that for some stupid reason, you’re doubting your relationship.”

Steve throws his head back against the seat. Of course you told Dustin about last night. “Look, I’m not-I’m not doubting our relationship, alright? I mean, I love her, man. So, so much. We just… things have been hard, lately. Really fucking hard.”

He isn’t sure how much you’ve told your brother. He doesn’t think you’d tell him about Jonathan, at least not until you know yourself whatever the hell he’d been trying to tell you the other night.

Dustin doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He stares past Steve, his eyes almost seem to glaze over. “It’s because she’s leaving, isn’t it?”

All the air in Steve’s lungs gets knocked out of him. “Yes,” he breathes out. His mouth is dry. He swallows, his tongue feels too thick for his mouth. “Sometimes it feels like she’s, I don’t know, like she’s outgrown me? I-I know it’s stupid, but she’s going so far for college and I’m stuck in Hawkins like some fucking moron and she-she didn’t want me going with her.”

“Did you know that I cried when she got into NYU?” Dustin asks him, a hurt smile on his face. When Steve shakes his head, the boy inhales deeply. “Yeah, cried like a baby the whole night. I mean, I knew she applied, I knew she’d get in, but… you’re right. She is going pretty far. I’ve never,” he wipes at his eyes quickly, embarrassed that he’s crying. “I’ve never had to spend a single day without my sister.”

Steve stares at your brother, finally beginning to understand the distance between the two of you. For weeks now it’s all you’ve complained about to Steve. How much you resented Eddie for being Dustin’s new favorite person, how much you miss singing with him in the kitchen while you baked. But now here Dustin is, teary eyed, explaining to Steve just how scared he is to be without his sister. “It feels like she’s leaving you, too.”

“Yeah,” Dustin wipes his eyes again, nodding. “Yeah, sometimes it feels like she can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Even though we’ll still be here,” Steve says solemnly.

It’s quiet again. A few birds sing in the tree above them. You and Max haven’t returned, yet. After a while, Dustin turns to Steve. “She doesn’t mean it, you know.”

“Who?”

“Y/N,” the boy clarifies, and Steve’s heart skips a beat. “She doesn’t mean it when she says she doesn’t want you going with her to New York. She’s just… she’s scared, and she knows that it isn’t what you really want. Nothing gets past her, it’s really annoying.”

Steve scoffs a bit, fondness running through him. Dustin’s right. Nothing ever gets past you, you notice and see everything. But then he thinks about what your brother has said, the fear he hadn’t known about. “Why would she be scared?”

Dustin stiffens in his seat, his gaze once again blurs. He twists his hands anxiously, fixes his hat. The atmosphere shifts, Steve can see that he’s uncomfortable now. He’s about to tell Dustin that he doesn’t have to answer, but the kid does anyways. “Our parents, they-um. Met in college.”

Steve sits up as well. You and Dustin never talk about your parents, at least not about your father. Steve can’t remember the last time you’ve even mentioned him. He thinks maybe the man had called you once, during Christmas.

“They got married right before graduation. Our mom had been pregnant with Y/N, they got hitched and in their marital bliss, our dad somehow convinced our mom to leave Indiana. She grew up here, but our dad was from Virginia and he insisted that she move there.”

Bitter. Dustin is bitter.

“Everything was fine, I guess. I liked Virginia. Y/N did, too. But our mom was lonely, anyone could see that. We lived in a pretty small town, our dad was basically a goddamn Kennedy there. Everyone adored him, but our mom… things were different for her. She was always in his shadow, but Y/N and I were too young to notice for a long time.”

Steve swallows. “And then… the divorce?”

“The stupid fucking divorce.” Dustin spits out. “It wasn’t a surprise, but somehow we still felt blindsided. One day our dad was charming, cracking jokes with everyone and playing the guitar with us, then the next he just-he snapped. Became bitter, mean. Y/N idolized him, but when our parents started fighting every night and our mom cried over some woman named Carry… I lost my sister, for a while.”

“She told me,” Steve whispers, remembering the rawness in your voice the night you confessed to him that you were once cruel. “I had to remind her that she came back, in the end.”

The corners of Dustin’s mouth turn upwards slightly. “Yeah, she came back.” But then his expression darkens, his mood sours. “Our mother almost didn’t, though. After having to move back to Hawkins with barely any money to support us, it basically destroyed her. She had lost all her friends by that point, her own parents died while we lived in Virginia.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve’s throat constricts. He hadn’t known any of this. He feels like such an asshole now for assuming the worst in you. For allowing his own insecurities to blind him. “I-I didn’t know about any of that.”

“Yeah, well.” Dustin shrugs. “Now you do. And you need to know that Y/N is being her usual selfless self because of our mom and what happened to her. She doesn't want that happening to you, dipshit.”

Steve exhales through his nose, his head is swimming with so many more questions, so many apologies he wishes he could say. Instead, he stares out the window, waiting for you to return.

–

“So, what would you girls like to discuss with me?” The clock on Ms. Kelly’s walk ticks ominously behind her. She’s seated you and Max in her basement den. You can tell by the stack of books and messy desk that she uses the area as her makeshift office.

Max slouches against her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing too serious, we were just–”

“I’m worried about Max.” You interrupt the girl, not daring to look at her.

Ms. Kelly raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I think with all the murders happening, it might be affecting her.” It isn’t necessarily a lie. You have been worried about Max and her behavior. Especially these last few weeks. “It might be resurfacing some… memories.”

Max tries to argue, but Ms. Kelly holds her hand up. “You’ve both experienced trauma, Y/N. She lost her brother while you held his dying body.”

A lump forms in your throat, your lungs feel cold.

The woman turns to Max, now. “And when you keep your feelings in, your pain, bottled up the way you do, it doesn’t take much to trigger them again. I can see why Y/N may be worried.”

Max doesn’t meet Ms. Kelly’s eyes. She swallows heavily and looks down at her hands. “Yeah, I know.”

“You know you can always talk to me, Max.” You say softly, wanting desperately to reach out to her. But you’re afraid it’ll only drive her further away.

She frowns at you. “Like how you talk to Dustin, or even to Steve?”

Her accusation cuts deeply. You hadn’t known that she was paying attention to you. That your disguised “I’m fine’s” weren’t convincing her. Max must know this, because she lowers her eyes again and mumbles a quiet apology.

Ms. Kelly notices the tension and leans between the two of you. “Do you think you’re ready to talk more about that night?”

Max’s eyes gloss over briefly, her face distorts with discomfort. An onslaught of memories overtakes her, just as they overtake you. The echoes of her screams for her brother replay in your mind over and over again. The squelch of Billy’s blood trickles down your spine. You were right next to her when it happened. The blood still stains your clothes from that night at Starcourt.

“I live next door to where it happened.” Max changes the subject, her voice returning. When Ms. Kelly asks for more clarification, she continues. “Next to where Chrissy was murdered. The cops asked me a bunch of questions. Did they talk to you?”

The woman sits up, apprehensive. She hadn’t been expecting to talk about this. You sit there quietly, head still pounding from earlier as Max takes over. She interrogates Ms. Kelly, who does her best to dodge every question, and suddenly the warmth in the room becomes unbearable.

“Excuse me,” you stand up, hand clutching your stomach. Nausea swirls within you. You feel faint, the pounding has increased and sweat trickles down your neck. Both Max and Ms. Kelly look at you in concern, but you ignore them.

Blindly you stumble towards the kitchen you remember seeing when you arrived. Too nauseous and overwhelmed to care about niceties, you dig through Ms. Kelly’s cupboards until you find a cup. After filling it with water, the icey coolness of the liquid settles uneasily in your stomach. You lean over the sink, hands clutching the edge. Everything in your body feels unsteady.

Max comes up the stairs and finds you breathing heavily. “You’re not going to hurl, are you?”

“Trying really hard not to right now,” you breathe through your nose, out through your mouth. “Thanks for the concern.”

No response comes. Instead, footsteps walk up behind you. You hear metal clanking against glass, and when you turn around, you find Max holding up a pair of keys. She smirks, flashing you the white keyring attached to them labeled, “office”.

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “No, we are not stealing–”

Except Max grabs your arm and practically flings you out the front door. She shoves you, urging you to start running towards Steve’s car, and all you can do is stumble over your feet and follow after her. When you make it back to the car, panting from the exertion and thrill, Steve and Dustin turn to you with wide eyes.

“What’d she say?” Your brother asks, noting your frazzled appearance.

“Nothing, just drive.” Max dismisses.

“I just became a felon.”

The girl rolls her eyes at you. “Personal property theft isn’t a felony.”

“Jesus,” Steve does a double take, baffled by this entire conversation. “What the hell did you guys do in there?”

“Steve, drive!” Max shouts at him.

The tires of the car squeal against the pavement as Steve steps on the gas. He steadies the car, a wild look in his eyes. “Where are we even going?”

“The school,” Max holds up the keys she stole.

Dustin looks at her incredulously. “Are those–”

“The keys to Ms. Kelly’s office? Yeah.” You nod grimly. “I told you, I’m now a felon.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic–”

A voice comes through Cerebro, cutting Max off. “Dustin? It’s Lucas. Do you copy?”

Relief washes over you hearing Lucas’ voice. Between tracking down Eddie and dealing with interrogating school guidance counselors, you’d also been slowly worrying yourself to death over the boy. It’s unusual for him to be quiet for so long, and with all the murders now occurring… You’d been terrified.

“Lucas? Where the hell have you been?” Demands Dustin.

“Just listen, are you guys looking for Eddie?”

You and Steve share an uncertain look. Why would Lucas be radioing about him? How much does he know?

Your brother tells Lucas that you’ve found Eddie and tells him where he is, that he’s safe. Immediately, the boy responds, “You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?”

Predictably, Dustin doesn’t take this very well. “That’s bullshit, Eddie tried to save Chrissy.”

Lucas presses further, not believing what he’s hearing. Max snatches the radio from Dustin, tired of all the vague responses. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay?”

“Technically we still haven’t elaborated on the whole Eddie thing,” you point out, which she glares at you for.

“Y/N?” Lucas asks, surprised to hear you’re with them.

You grab the walkie. “Hey, how’s your day been?”

“Awful,” he responds bluntly while Steve snorts at your question. “Why are you guys so sure Eddie didn’t–”

“Just meet us at school. We’ll explain later.” Max instructs, leaning over the car’s console.

“I can’t,” fear leaks through Lucas’ voice. You sit up now, looking at Steve again. He hears it, too. “I think some real bad shit’s about to go down.”

You feel your heartbeat pick up. “Lucas, what does that mean? Are you okay, where are you?”

“Sinclair!” A voice shouts, before the radio cuts into static.

“Lucas? Lucas!” Max shouts into the walkie, but he doesn’t respond. She sounds scared, it’s the most emotion you’ve heard in her voice in months.

You’re no better. You sit in the passenger seat, numb. The voice, you recognized it. You’d know Jason Carver’s voice anywhere. Everything clicks; you remember how Lucas was supposed to go to the party after the basketball game. Chrissy had been Jason’s girlfriend before she was brutally killed. The cops would’ve questioned him, they would’ve told him how her body had been found in Eddie’s trailer.

Eddie Munson, the town freak everyone hates.

“What shit could Lucas get into?” Dustin questions, annoyance twinged with worry for his friend.

You try to steady your breathing, nausea returning. You almost don’t recognize the sound of your own voice. “It’s Jason. He’s-he’s angry.”

The words settle in the car, linger in the air, before they crash heavily upon the four of you. The realization dawns on everyone, the inevitability of what will happen next is an unbearable weight.

Steve steps even harder on the gas. He knows the basketball team, how cruel teen boys can be.

–

Every time you’ve snuck into one of Hawkins’ schools, it’s never led to anything good. The first two times had been in the middle school for Will. Neither time involved very pleasant memories. This year you’re sneaking into the high school in order to violate your classmates’ privacy and read their deepest, darkest secrets.

“This feels wrong,” you huff under your breath, barely keeping up with Steve and the others as they run through the hallway. “I’d hate it if anyone read my file.”

“Would you rather risk anyone else dying?” Max responds, giving you a pointed look.

You frown but don’t say anything, figuring she’s right. As much as you hate to do this, it’s objectively the lesser of two evils. You’ll apologize to the students after this is done. If they question why you’ve baked them brownies, you’ll simply lie and say you had extra laying around.

“Dustin, do you copy?” Robin’s voice carries over the radio. Your heart skips a beat hearing her, you’ve missed her today. After your brother responds, she starts to explain what she and Nancy found. “So, Nancy’s a genius.”

“What else is new?” You say, and Robin laughs.

“My thoughts exactly, pretty girl.” She clears her throat. “Anyways, Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bull’s-eye.”

The new information startles you. Vecna first started killing in 1959? Why didn’t you hear anything about it until now, and why didn’t El sense him before?

Dustin looks equally unsettled by the news. “Okay, that’s totally bonkers, but we can’t really talk right now.”

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.”

You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?”

Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Meanwhile, Dustin urges Robin and Nancy to meet you guys at the school. By the time their conversation wraps up, Max has unlocked the office door. She heads straight towards the drawers, long familiar with the layout; you follow after her.

Steve and Dustin look around while you and Max dig through the files. They mumble something about Watergate, but you can barely hear them over the rush of blood in your eardrums. Max’s fingers rest on a specific file. The name printed on it makes you feel sick.

Fred Benson.

“Holy shit,” she exhales, grabbing it.

“Found it?” Dustin stands next to you now, neck peering down.

You struggle to breathe. “We didn’t just find Chrissy’s file.”

Dustin tilts his head, he doesn’t understand, and Max holds the file up. “Fred was seeing Ms. Kelly too.”

Steve and Dustin freeze. You can practically see their heartbeats still. The air in the room goes stale. Their eyes linger on you, they wish they couldn’t piece it together. Chrissy and Fred were seeing Ms. Kelly up until their deaths. You and Max have been seeing her, too. It’s one hell of a coincidence.

But that’s all this is. A horrible, awful coincidence.

“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, but you shake your head at him.

“Please,” your lip trembles. Not here, not now. He can’t look away from you, but you can’t bear to look at him. Instead, you grab the remaining files and hand them to Max. “We need to go through them. All of them.”

Dustin sits at the desk, Steve’s hand rests on the small of your back as you lean over Max to read the files. He shines a flashlight for the two of you, Chrissy’s file is the first one you read. The image of her once vibrant and alive smile stares back at you. There’s a column of writing to the left of her photo, the handwriting is neat, orderly, and it catches your attention.

“Are those…?”

“Symptoms.” Max softly answers, eyes skimming down the list.

Past trauma.

Terrible migraines.

Difficulty sleeping.

Headaches.

Max’s entire body tenses, her muscles pull taut against you. Your own body shakes, the tremors misalign your bones. Slowly, she looks up at you. Her eyes silently beg you to tell her that you’ve gotten it all wrong. Max’s blue eyes plead with you to tell her that none of this is real.

“Steve,” your voice catches, unable to inhale. “Can we see Fred’s file?”

He softly agrees, handing you the file immediately. You take it from him. The paper trembles in your unsteady grasp. Laying them down, you open the file and Fred’s photo burns you. Next to it is a list of symptoms.

They’re the same as Chrissy’s.

They’re the same as yours.

The headaches. Sleepless nights. The trauma you’ve been through, the nightmares that will never truly go away. Everything you’ve experienced within the last week.

Nosebleeds is starred, and for a moment your heartbeat settles. You haven’t had a nosebleed since you were five. It isn’t one of your symptoms; it can all still be a coincidence.

“This-this can’t be right.” You don’t know if you say this to reassure Max or yourself, but when you look down at her, you know. She has a far off look in her eyes. She doesn’t react to what you’ve just said.

It’s only then that you remember her nosebleed from earlier this week; it hadn’t been a coincidence.

“Max?” You shake her shoulders, tears already in your eyes. You know better than to be so naive, so blindly ignorant. You should’ve known better. You should’ve known that something was wrong.

Dustin and Steve try to wake Max, but she’s already left her body. She’s unresponsive, lost in whatever trance she’s in.

“Y/N, what’s happening?” Steve demands, fear in his own voice.

You’re hysterical, screaming and sobbing for Max to wake up. Her body is so small against yours, she’s frail and weak and her skin has never looked so translucent. Over and over you shake her, your palms rest against her cheeks and you cry.

You’ve come to know what fear is. How it can blind a person, leave them stricken with such raw anguish. Fear takes whatever air is left inside you and it poisons it with sulfur and leaves you choking.

The day Will went missing, the only air left in your body had been blood.

When inside the tunnels defending your little brother from monsters, the air in your body had been carbon.

Starcourt mall and the fireworks that exploded over Billy’s dangling and bloodied body left only just enough air in your lungs to scream.

But this fear, seeing Max unresponsive to your pleas, this fear doesn’t spare you any air.

Gasping and choking, you’re a wreck. “Max!”

Faintly you can feel Steve’s hands on you, or maybe they’re Dustin’s. Someone grabs you, pulls you away, but all you can do is scream.

It all makes sense now, Nancy’s question from earlier rings in your ears. You know why Chrissy and Fred were targeted. Why Ms. Kelly was somehow the center of it all.

The symptoms they experienced prior, the same ones that plague you and Max. You know what it is.

Venca’s curse.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #bdyr #m's writing #oh dear this chapter has so much. like wow #all the conversations .....#whew

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katz-chow · 10 months

Note

inspired by the post you made of having a child by your hip and then him walking in and going to kiss his "pretty girls"

So, here this, Simon Riley, bad mood, and tired, just came from base to his home, his wife and daughter in the kitchen, unaware. He was going to be grumpy all night long when he heard the babbles from his baby daughter, his wife trying to teach her how to say 'mum' after the kid said 'dada' first.

Bare with me, make it extra fluffy, I'm taking it so fluffy it roots your teeth from how cute it is. The dream he never knew would happen, was now in front of him.

anyway, you'll probs get a smut req from me after this one

a/n: i did not see this until it was like an hour before i wrote and posted this. my bad, man.

warnings: fem!reader, baby, stressed out simon, fluff, domestic, maternity leave, what a family man

Simon was not a stranger to stress and aching muscles, it came almost like sleep to an already dying body. He saw himself as that whenever it got quiet and lonely. Thankfully, nowadays he finds himself in the comfort and joy of people that enjoy his company to any extent. So this stress came in a familiar yet unexpected, especially when it came in a form of 12 hours of office work and not dirt, grime, and blood. Also unusual is how this tsunami toppled him down, so close to the place he called home, in a neighborhood where only old people find themselves retiring to and grand kids running along the street.

He pulled up to the light of his home, which seemed unchanged to when he left the same house earlier that day, completely with the total darkness that consumed the sky. Keys in one hand and a lunch box in the other, he unlocked the front door and was met with the warm glow of lamp lights. The smell of dinner drifted in the air, inviting him into bliss and heat, compared to the cold and damp night outside.

One lock clicked, the other one followed, and then the tumbling of his steel-toed boots against the hardwood. A quiet draft moved around the living and dining room, a remnant of a busy, eventful day still present along the floor. Wooden peg dolls lay slain from a fight hours ago, Lego bricks scattered around from an explosion that seemed to have been devastating for the population and infrastructure of the city, how cute.

His ear perked up at the sound of soft cooing followed by the shrill of your baby voice for your girl. Behind the door to the nursery propped you up against the wall, slumped down onto the floor. The little cow onesie sat on your lap, leaning against your thighs as you held her hands, bouncing her up and down.

"Can you say 'mama?'" You whispered sing-songy, slowing down the last part, making it easier for the baby to understand. The little one giggled at you and forced you to wave your hand with its tight grip on one of your fingers.

Simon couldn't help but shake his head and roll his eyes, your diabolical plan of getting her to say 'mama' instead of 'dada' has started-which was especially unfair because you got parental leave before he did. "I heard that."

You look up at him from your spot of the fluffy rug, sticking out your tongue at him. 'How mature,' he thought as he sank down next to you. He raked a hand through his hair, resting his head against the wall as you rested yours onto his shoulder. Your cowpoke stuck her tongue out at him as he peaked open of his eyes to glare at her. "Already putting my own kid against me, how considerate of you, Lovie."

You giggled at him and thus, your baby girl also giggled, following in her mama's steps. The three of you settled down, Simon taking her from your lap and into his own, holding her close as she snuggled up into his uniform. You held onto his bicep, leaning into him. Soft lips meet your forehead as normal, just like the hundreds of times before this moment. "You got home late."

"I know, I'm sorry..." he sighed, eyes heavy and heart full,domestic life looked good on him. What looked even better was his beautiful girls in his grasp, shielding them away from the horrors of war that he fought all those years ago. This was it.

"I'm glad you're home though... we already had dinner and she insisted that we stay up to wait for you." You laughed. You missed him and the days that he wasn't so caught up, working overtime. You know why though, so paternity leave wouldn't be so out of reach.

He let out a soft laugh smiling and making funny faces at your little calf. "Yeah, I saw the destruction and war crimes the two of you caused out there."

"Womp, womp." You shrugged and let in a deep breath, content with the little family the two of you had created in a span of a few years. This is what life is supposed to be like; simple, warm, and your kids mocking you at the ripe age of 10 months.

Simon Riley, a man built on anger, pain, and built walls, is no longer just that. He's no longer just a soldier, a pawn that's willing to do anything for the greater good, sacrificing sleep, time, and himself. No, Simon Riley can no longer do that, he needs to come home at the end of day, see his girls terrorize the squirrels outside, see his girls nuzzled up watching tv, see his girls make fun of him, and most importantly, see his girls sleeping soundly in his arms.

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b1mbodoll · 1 year

Note

Any thoughts with Enhypen hyungline and omorashi?

pairings: en- hyungline x f! reader

warnings: omorashi + degradation + oral + praise + dacryphilia + dumbification + daddy kink + pet names + filming

💌: was gna post dis tmr but i couldnt wait also thank u for this question bcus i have many thoughts on the subject!!!! class is in session so listen up

heeseung

♡ heeseung is definitely into making you wet yourself. he lives for the sweet sounds you make when you make a mess on his cock. his eyes are glued to your pussy, loving the slick sounds of him fucking your wet cunt and the sight of your piss making a mess of his cock and pelvis. praises you nonstop while you ride him, large hands gripping your hips to push and pull you over his cock, “such a good girl f’me, pretty. my good girl, yeah?”

♡ he’s always saying the filthiest things in bed but in such a sweet way, calls you his pretty angelgirl while telling you he’s gonna stuff ur sloppy pussy with his cum til he physically can’t anymore :(

♡ he’s so in love with eating your pussy too it’s literally an addiction. quite literally makes out with your cunt, nose pressing against your clit every now and then as he tries to push you over the limit with just his mouth. heeseung thinks its the hottest thing ever when his mouth fucks you so good it causes you to pee <3 cums in his fucking pants as your release drips down his chin cus he just loves it sm. makes him proud that he’s the only one that’s able to make you do that n likes that you’re kinda claiming him in a way ??

jay

♡ jay’s into omorashi both ways. he likes to take care of you and refill your drink frequently so when you guys are making out he can tease you til ur crying n shaking, piss soaking yours and his clothes as you slump against him from the relief

♡ also enjoys pissing on and inside of you, whether it be your mouth or ur cunt <3 his favorite has to be the latter though, nothing strokes his ego more than when he’s fucking you and you’re begging for him to fill you up, doesn’t matter if it’s his cum or his piss you’re so desperate to reach your climax you just sigh and thank him over n over when he finally empties himself inside, pussy clenching ‘round him n taking everything he has to offer

♡ like heeseung, jay is also a sweet talker however, he can’t help but to degrade you every now and then. likes when you get teary eyed and try to deny the fact that ur his nasty little whore even though you both know he’s right because if you weren’t, you wouldnt be begging for his piss

jake

♡ sweet, sweet jake <3 he’s the perfect blend of sweet n rough. he personally likes to piss on you (he wouldnt mind the other way around if its something u wanted tho he’s whipped) he just thinks it’s so arousing yet romantic that you’re willing to let him do something like this. big fan of praising you as well, he has to let his girl know she’s doin’ such a good job for him

♡ “y’look so cute like this, honey. fuck, wish i could keep you at my feet forever. you’d like that wouldn’t you? wouldn’t ever hafta lift a finger, i’d take care of you, doll. would do anything for you if you’d jus’ let me do this whenever i wanted.” he’s spewing nonsense now but his brain isn’t working and you’re no better, tongue lolling out as the warm stream of his piss splashes against your cheeks ‘nd down onto your tits.

♡ afterwards he bathes with you ‘nd takes care of you as you try to get ur brain back to normal after getting fucked dumb :( dresses you n pulls you close, pressing soft kisses all over ur face while whispering how much you mean to him <3

sunghoon

♡ sunghoon’s def into pissing on you as well, however he has a meaner approach. it starts with him releasing on your chest ‘nd neck but it always ends with his wet cock in your mouth. he takes videos every time he does this ‘nd has plenty of polaroids where you’re looking up at him innocently as if you didn’t just let him fuck his piss down your throat

♡ don’t get me wrong, he’s a great bf !!! hoonie spoils you ‘nd does his best to keep you happy all the time <3 he’s usually such a sweetheart with you but the way he’s able to fuck you like he hates you makes your head spin every time

♡ “you’re such a fucking perv, you know that right? so nasty too. nice little girls wouldn’t be swallowin’ their boyfriend’s piss, fuck!” he curses through clenched teeth, fingers weaving through your hair as he shoves his cock deeper, if that were even possible. you don’t think you’ve ever felt this full in your life and you don’t want it to end, gulping down everything he gives you. too focused on sucking him dry you don’t even realize he’s started snapping photos of how fucked out you look, who knows? maybe he’ll show them to jake, jay ‘nd heeseung if they’re lucky

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fiendishfables · 8 months

Note

Can you make a top Lute x fem reader nsfw?

a/n: I most certainly can; love my girl Lute. Definitely going to try and write some more for her in the future. Enjoy!

warnings: nsfw, fingering, eating out, cursing, Adam being a funny lil' guy, mention(s) of killing

words: 1.5k+

characters: 8624

additional notes: thanks for 20+ followers, y'all! More fics are on the way; requests are always open!

format: Oneshot

"L-Lute!~"

"Tsk. Stay still, brat."

Your girlfriend had just come back from the usual annual extermination. Being an exorcist angel under Adams command was quite stressful, as she often took it upon herself to make known to you. Having her come back to you all irritable and angry was a normal occurrence on many days, but she did have her good days in between.

But, you'd have to admit that you liked getting to be subjected to Lute's bitter attitude sometimes.

Especially if those times happened to turn out like this one.

Lute currently had her hands purchased on the plush, supple flesh of your thighs, using her very evident strength to keep them apart from one another; keeping you exposed to her. Your legs would never be closed for as long as she had her head between them. Crush her skull all you like. She was determined to get what she deserved; claim what was rightfully hers.

Her tongue lapped at your sopping folds, nose just barley bumping your clit to provide that extra shock of pleasure. You had your fingers tangled in her short, silver hair, which she would normally scold you for, claiming it took her forever to get it to look so nice. This time though, she says nothing, as she knows you're only doing it due to the immense amounts of pleasure she is causing you to feel, the euphoria swirling throughout your body like a rapid whirlpool, ready to suck you into its deep, dark depths. Never to be seen again.

Your heavy breathing mixed with the sounds of her tongue in and around your pussy; the pace of her skillful tongue bringing you spiraling towards the edge. It was all so pleasurable, yet beautiful.

One of her hands moved upwards to your lower stomach, applying gentle force to keep your hips from bucking upward towards her mouth in an attempt to get more friction. Her tongue delved even deeper into you as she got a soft moan in response to her dominating action, exploring every spongey wall, every sensitive nerve.

Every damn place her tongue could reach in order to mark you as hers.

The shaking of your thighs, the heat of your breath, all must have been a sign for Lute to switch tactics. She never let you get off that easy. She wanted, needed, to have her fun with you; her little angel.

As she lifted her head from between your legs, your own slick covering her lips, you could've mewled. As the cold air now hit your pussy lips, it made you miss her skilled tongue almost immediately. It took most of your will power to refrain from pulling her back to you and pushing her head back down between your thighs where you both knew it rightfully belonged.

But that wasn't how things like this worked.

At least not with Lute.

She had taught you that patience was a very valuable virtue when it came to getting what you wanted. Especially if you wanted that specific something from her.

"Good girl. Seems like you can learn after all."

Lute spoke surprisingly soft, even with that smirk still playing on her face. The same smirk she always adorned whenever she knew she had denied you that sweet release; the one she had been helping to build for the past half-hour now.

At this point, you were surprised that Adam hadn't come busting into the room looking for his lieutenant. Lord, it was a miracle in itself that the two of you had managed to get this much time to yourself without the fucker interrupting you. The amount of times he had walked in on you, either with Lute's face between your thighs, or her fucking the living daylights out of you with a strap on.

Adam being Adam, he had tried multiple times to try and convince Lute to let him stay and watch, or even join in on the action.

Not surprisingly, he had failed each of those times and often left with a new bruise added to his face; the result of Lute blasting him with a beam of light and cursing at him, yelling at him to leave before she got up and made him leave.

The threat usually worked, because neither one of you wanted to know what that would look like.

You were instantly snapped out of your thoughts, feeling Lute's nimble fingers now rubbing heavily pressured circles onto your clit, sending rakes of pleasure running up your spine. A choked moan left your lips as she then proceeded to add a finger, then two, into your gaping hole, so eagerly sucking her digits in.

"Such a tight little pussy you got, babe." She cooed, fingers picking up their pace, movements becoming relentless in their pursuit of making you cum.

"Nice to know you haven't been touching yourself whenever I'm out for the evening. All because you know I'm the only one who can make you feel like this, huh?"

You only gave a weak nod in response, stars and spots beginning to fill your vision. It felt like the whole room was spinning around you.

"Y-yes, Lute. Fuck, yes. Only y-you."

Your voice sounded almost hoarse, as if you had been screaming to your hearts content only hours prior. But your mind was quickly put back on track as your girlfriends nimble fingers sped up their pace, both on your clitoris and inside, pumping those digits vigorously in and out of you in a steady pattern that had you on cloud nine.

Before you had time to fathom anything currently ongoing, you let loose a strangled cry of pure bliss from your throat, as Lute let her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm.

Your entire body seemed to go through a series of tremors, showing the real effect Lute's fingers had been having on you. Your thighs shook; your chest rapidly rose and fell.

It was like a whole new heaven.

Once you had calmed down a bit from the intense wave of pleasure that had just so recently washed over you, she removed her fingers from in between your wet folds. She seemed to carefully inspect them before bringing them up to her lips, which already happened to be glossy with your slick from earlier, and licked the juices right off of them, as if she were a starving woman and this would be her last time ever tasting you.

She licked her lips, looking quite satisfied as she smirked down at you. She then gave you a gentle, affectionate kiss on the lips, letting you taste your own produce on her mouth.

"Mm. Damn. Sweet as always, angel."

You were busy catching your breath as she said this, swallowing the spit that had collected in your mouth and around your lips, thanks to the disheveled state your girlfriend had reduced you into. Even your hair was in a fray and she hadn't even touched it.

"Lute, do you want me to...return the favor? I know you're bound to be stressed from extermination earlier-"

You were cut off by her scoff, almost as if she had been offended that you would even begin to offer such a thing.

"Heavens no. What do you take me for, some selfish bastard?" She asked, lips pulling down into that signature grumpy frown she normally wore.

"What- babe no. Lu, its not selfish for wanting your partner to return the favor for you, especially if you just gave them an orgasm as good as that."

She huffed, looking almost cute with her face scrunched up in a scowl. But it had wiped clean off her face, eyes softer now, as she looked back towards you.

"Whatever. But I'm fine, babe, really. Tonight was about you, and you did so good for me. Thank you for letting me get to taste you."

She seemed to think for a second before adding:

"It was even better than getting to slaughter those demon bitches down in hell today."

You offered Lute a tired smile and let out a soft laugh at her attempt to compare your pussy and killing demons in the same sentence. Eventually, she too ended up chuckling, though still holding the statement to be true, no matter how much you seemed to want to laugh or disprove it.

At the end of the day, you both loved one another more than either of you could ever bring out into words or actions.

So many emotions came to surface when loving the fierce-spirited, exorcist angel known as Lute.

It was rough.

It was different.

It was maybe even a bit playful.

But by all the angels and their beautiful wings, was it fun.

(Bonus + featuring the 'original dick')

…Though of course it could never last too long, as the sudden booming voice of Adam rang out throughout the room as he practically kicked down the door, no doubt looking for his favorite lieutenant and her girlfriend.

"Guess who's back , bitchesss! Ey, Lute, looks like your party here is missing some of the 'original dick'! All ya had to do was ask-"

He never did get to finish his sentence, for there was already an angelic spear being flung at his head, resulting in a high-pitched scream from Adam, which was enough for him to go silent in shame that his lieutenant could manage to evoke such a noise from him.

He never did seem to walk in on you two much after that.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #lute #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #lute hazbin hotel #xreader #female #fem reader #oneshot #hazbin hotel oneshot #exorcist angel #exorcist angels #adam x reader #adam x lute

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 month

Text

Pairing(s): Billy Butcher x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, Billy Butcher x Reader x Logan Howlett, slight!Billy Butcher x Becca Butcher

Warnings: this dynamic has just been on my mind, i have lsfav to finish but damn do i keep getting inspiration for billy butcher and logan<3, cheating, previous relationships mentioned, lets say this takes place in the beginning of the boys season 2?, brief deadpool cameo, jealousy, situationship, friends with benefits, crossover, the boys x marvel, soldier girl!au tidbit, yes i named it after a mean girls musical song

His grip tightens on the nape of your neck, Butcher takes another inhale and grimaces to himself.

He pulls away from you. Those dark eyes that usually shine with affection toward you were void of any life, a black chasm drilling into you. Hurt knits his brows together and set his lips into a deep grimace.

You knew his fingers were tightening as his hand shook but you couldn't feel the pressure.

"Who is he?"

Fuck

Why of all days did he decide to pay you attention? Lately he'd been in such a piss mood because Logan (aka your fuckbuddy) had been evading him for a while now. Also annoying how another supe known as Deadpool was helping Logan escape every time Butcher came relatively close.

You'd come up with excuses as to why you couldn't help out in capturing him.

Unconciously you sniff at your hair and internally curse Logan for constantly smothering his face in your hair. His signature scent of whiskey, cedar and dare you say even a hint of cigar smoke.

With a simple shrug, you dislodge his hand from your throat and take a step back in observation of his rigid frame. You think of all the times you 'd been jealous of Becca. You knew it was petty of you. She was his wife after all. It didn't matter that you'd known him the longest or that he'd quite possibly been the love of your life when you were in our early twenties.

"We never discussed being exclusive, Butcher." you quietly remind him. Butcher didn't like that reply, his feelings evident in the snarl that curls his upper lip. He couldn't get mad at you. You were right.

Haughtily he stomps around you, heading for the door.

You sigh after he loudly slams the door. Hughie pokes his head out from an adjoining room. "That didn't sound good. . ."

Refusing to give into Butcher's tantrum, you fold your arms in front of your chest. "Just let him blow off steam. Either way. . . It's not like I'm his partner or anything. We fuck on occasion. That's it."

"Not to mention your previous relationship with him?" Hughie brings up. "He might still have genuine feelings for you. Maybe for him, its not just fucking. You know Butcher. He's too proud for his own good so of course he's not going to mention it if you don't-"

"Jesus Christ Hughie, be someone else's goddamn therapist!" Snapping you immediately regret it when Hughie's mouth presses into a thin line. "I'm sorry, Hughie. . ."

Talking about your feelings wasn't normal for you either. Soldier Boy thought emotions were for pussies. Even if he'd had a soft spot for his daughter, it made him uncomfortable whenever you talked about your feelings. He wasn't equipped to deal with that.

"No, it's my bad. I should stay out of it."

You run a hand through your hair. "Fuck, Hughie. . .I really didn't want to think that this would hurt him. Or maybe I did. . . Shit, did I just ruin everything?"

Logan wasn't someone permanent, both of you knew that. Trouble followed both you and Logan. Intersecting your lives would conclude with utter chaos. You really liked him though. Damn you say you were fond of Logan and his reserved nature. You'd come to appreciate waking up to his face that still possessed a hint of a scowl in his brows. Weary lines etched into his features were engrained in your memory.

Hughie gives a pause before inquiring "Is it someone we know? If it is, we should give them a heads up."

A shake of your head, you plop down on a chair that is barely held together by duct tape. Your stuck in your thoughts of Logan. His long sideburns that you liked to play with when you lay in his arms. You'd even got to know Wade and had taken to calling Logan 'Peanut' too. He'd definitely become more than a simple booty call. Logan slowly entwined his life with your's.

"No. Butcher will never find out who he is. I'm certain of it. But to be on the safe side. . . I'll have to call it quits for now. I just- He's so focused on finding where Becca is that I didn't think it would bother him if I was with someone else."

There's another chair across from you that Hughie takes up. "He loves you a lot. He's never stopped. He told me that even when he was married to Becca, he loved you. Its hard when you love two people at once. You don't intend for it to happen, but circumstances will it into existence."

Internally you chuckle. Hughie really should have concerned therapy as a profession or some sort of degree in psychology. Yet you suppose he was in the same situation as both you and Butcher. He was falling in love with Annie/Starlight but would always love Robin.

Reaching for your phone, you're already pulling up your texts with Logan (you had him saved as '🥜').

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wishluc · 1 year

Note

I love yandre himeko thou what about kafka thou??😍😍

Literally insane about her it's crazy

A Stellaron Hunter has no business in the Space Station, as far as you're aware.

But it's not like you can go anywhere with Kafka's gun under your chin, her pink eyes looking up at you with unabashed interest. The contrasting sensations of cold metal and her burning gaze sends your heart faltering, your mind spinning as you try to come up with a way to escape the situation.

"Now, my dear," Kafka's smooth voice sends shivers down your spine, and she grins, clearly having noticed the effect she has on you and taking great delight in it, "no need to be so rash. Didn't I tell you to stay put?"

You gulp, watching closely as her eyes narrow, "Uhm, Miss…" Your tongue falters mid-sentence, terror tightening its grip on you as Kafka pushes her weapon into your skin, as though to serve as a reminder, "I don't have access to—"

"Shh," she whispers, slowly withdrawing her gun. Just when you thought you could finally relax your tense figure, she swiftly grabs you by the waist and spins you around, slamming your face up against the wall, wrists held behind your back. Your gasp echoes through the room, but Kafka merely chuckles, "My apologies. I need to take certain precautions, as I'm sure you'll understand. Though if we're being honest, I don't mind your fight. It's what I like about you, your resolve, your determination…you're a clever little thing, aren't you?"

"And please, call me Kafka. We have more than enough time to get acquainted with each other, don't we?"

You only manage to wheeze out a few words before Kafka shushes you again, "I don't have—"

"That's perfectly alright," Her voice is still light, her tone airy, like your current predicament was just a normal occurrence for her, "I don't need any of that."

Then, with a steady hand pushing against the small of your back with unexpected force, you feel her other hand dig into your pocket. Your shuffling and twisting do nothing to slow her exploration, as she finally pulls out your ID card (although you couldn't see her, you could swear that she had a triumphant smile on her face).

"[Name]…a researcher, I see? How interesting. How long have you been working here, darling?"

"3 years now," you focus on your trembling fingers, ignoring the way they grazed Kafka's skin whenever you tried to stretch them out.

"Are you interested a change in careers, by any chance? I have a wonderful opportunity for you. Though…" she trails off, as if internally contemplating something, "I wouldn't want any of my companions getting too close to you either…"

You're not sure if her question warrants an answer, especially considering the clear fact that a researcher like you has no place among the criminals of the Stellaron Hunters.

"Or not," she chuckles, "maybe," she brings her lips right to your ear, and you go absolutely still, too afraid to even breathe, and then she lowers her voice, "you'd like to be my pet instead?"

You don't even have the time to process her words before she's laughing to herself, a soft, lovely sound that worms its way into your soul, "just kidding, of course."

You're not sure what to make of this woman, except for the fact that she was probably half-mad. And you were going to be stuck with her longer if nobody came in to help, and who knew what she'd do to you then?

"How about this?" Kafka's grip on your wrists loosens, and she instead goes to hold your shaking fingers, gently squeezing them in her hands, "I have work to do here, unfortunately, so we'll have to part ways. But I promise you that I'll find a way to come see you again, so then…You'll come to greet me, won't you?"

You nod, wordlessly, and she finally steps away, allowing you to turn around and come face-to-face with her. She's smiling, just as dangerous and as beautiful as when you first saw her, her eyes glimmering with something you can only identify as amusement, and she holds, in between gloved fingers, your ID card.

"Good," she looks you over one last time, pocketing the card, "I won't forget, darling. So you keep your end of the deal too, alright?"

You nod again, not trusting yourself to speak, and she begins to walk away, stopping at the door. Her head turns ever so slightly, her piercing gaze directed right at you as she utters her parting words, "I'll see you soon."

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

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dragonfirerogue-writes · 2 years

Text

Beck and Call

Wednesday x Kitsune!Reader

When Wednesday opens the door to her dorm room, she's greeted with the sight of you and Enid watching those atrocious Kpop videos on her roommate's laptop. Though the music was an assault on her ears, the sight of you two amused her slightly.

Enid was an explosion of color, whereas you shared Wednesday's affinity for dark colors. The only difference was that your darkness was accented with scant bits of color Your dark, thin eyes were lined with crimson and your hair was tipped in blood red.

The sound of the door closing caught the attention of the Kpop fans. Enid waved enthusiastically while you give a nod in greeting.

"Wednesday! This is Y/N. We're just bonding over music!" Wednesday squinted at Enid's bright grin as if she was looking at the sun. "We'll only be a little bit longer, then you can have your time."

A grin spread on your face. "What, Kpop not your roomie's thing?" You already knew full well that was the case.

"The cheerful music and abundance of color should be a crime," the goth deadpanned. "Utter torture to my senses. And not the enjoyable kind."

You turned to Enid with a questioning tilt of your head. "Wait, you haven't tried any song with dark concepts?"

The wolf paused, thinking slightly before shaking her head. "Y'know, I didn't even think about it... Not usually my wheelhouse. Honestly the closest to a dark concept I liked was Boyfriend's 'Witch.'"

A laugh just escapes your lips, sounding very similar to a 'yip'. Your gaze moves back to Wednesday.

"How 'bout it? I show you a proper dark concept song and see if you at least tolerate it."

The dark girl stared for a moment, contemplating the suggestion.

"What's in it for me?" She asked. "I see no benefit in this attempted torture."

You thought for a bit before reaching to grab something. It was only then that Wednesday noticed your arm. The forearm was wrapped in a braided rope. Intertwined within were small beads, matching a larger one that hung from your ear. Your hand hovers over one of the beads and summons it from its bindings.

"Whoa," Enid balks at the action. She leans closer to gaze at the soft glow of the bead. "Is that a part of your spirit orb thingy?"

You nod in response. "We used to have only one big orb we had to hide, but my ancestors figured out a way to split them up. Mainly for easier hiding." You hold out the bead for Wednesday. "I use them as a way to solidify a pact or favor. So, if you watch one video with me, Wednesday, you can invoke my skills whenever you need."

Wednesday's eyes shift from the bead to your face.

"You're a Kitsune. A trickster demon known to deceive for fun or malice. While you have abilities suitable for my investigation, how will I know I can ensure you don't turn on me?"

A grin spreads wide on your face. "Won't that be a fun gamble to have to take, hm?" Your face sobers soon after. "As long as you have this bead, I'm compelled to help you. That's why we normally hide these. It houses our spirit so we can't do much to circumvent that."

"You're offering a lot for a measly few minutes."

"I'm offering you something equivalent to you stepping out of your comfort zone. Even for a measly few minutes."

The dark haired goth took a pause before slowly reaching out and taking the bead. When she touches it, an aura emits out and engulfs her wrist. The shine fades and a black braided bracelet is revealed, the bead set within the weaving. Wednesday looked at her new accessory curiously... You think.

"Fascinating. Now, let's get this over with. I have a schedule to maintain."

With a salute, you reach for Enid's laptop, silently asking if you could use it. When given permission, your fingers fly across the keyboard, typing out the video you were looking for. Wednesday slowly perched herself at the edge of Enid's bed, an arm's length away from the two of you. You let out a soft huff of amusement before rearranging Enid and yourself to give Wednesday a clear view of the screen.

"Obviously, it's a song about love, cuz of course it is," you start explaining. "But it's an obsessive love where you'll do anything for that person, even if it tears you apart."

"Sounds like my parents."

You quirked an eyebrow at that. Maybe you'll ask about that later. With a smirk, you hit play.

A close up of skin appears on the laptop screen, someone drawing lines upon it before cutting with a scalpel. The somber notes of a piano begin to sound as images of gore, voodoo dolls and pierced skin begin to show alongside the idols themselves. Then an electronic screech sounds as VIXX's 'Voodoo Doll' begins to play.

"Ugh, I forgot how gross this video was..." Enid gags lightly and closes her eyes, opting to just listen to the music.

You watch Wednesday as her eyes train on the video playing. Every movement on her face was caught. You knew what parts of the video got the best reactions. It was fascinating to witness. You end up just staring at Wednesday herself, caressing her face with your eyes.

When Ravi's rap begins, you give a start. Wednesday's eyes flick over to you. You hold her eyes and stare at each other. It wasn't until the bridge began that you broke eye contact. You slip off the bed, mimicking the choreography as you trudge to the center of the room. Both Wednesday and Enid watch as you dance along to the end of the song.

"So? What's your verdict, Wednesday?" Your grin was wide. She watched the ending bit of the video with Hongbin before looking at you.

"... It was tolerable. Certainly appealed to my macabre tastes." Her eyes bore into yours. "You haven't caused my ears and eyes to bleed, Y/N. An accomplishment, indeed."

You give an exaggerated bow. "All in a day's work." As you straighten up, you move to grab your things. "It's about time I head out anyway."

Enid shoots up and pulls you into a crushing hug, which you return with the same fervor.

"Mmmm best hugs! Thanks for hanging out with me."

"Anytime." As you let go, you ruffled her hair causing the wolf to squeal and playfully smack you away. You make your way to Wednesday and offer a hand.

"Thank you for going along with this. I appreciate you indulging us for a few."

The goth's eyes dart from your hand to your face. With some hesitation, she takes your hand in a firm grip.

Thankfully, no vision.

With a subtle sigh, she gives your hand a shake.

"I expect a prompt response when I require your services in the future."

A final smirk graces your face as you bow. With your hand still in Wednesday's, you ended up almost kissing her hand.

"I shall be at your beck and call."

With a final goodnight, you exit Ophelia Hall with a skip in your step. You just hope you get to see more of Wednesday.

#a dragon tries to write #Wednesday Addams x Reader #Wednesday x Reader #i had this in my head ever since i saw Enid and Kpop in the same sentence

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heyidkyay · 10 months

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Six

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: AHHH I am honest to god obsessed with this part, been excited for it since the idea came to mind and I also love surprises so, take that as you will... Hope you enjoy! Thank you sm for all the love on this series too, means a whole lot!!

Warnings: again lil bit of self-consciousness, mentions of scarring, heights!

Masterlist

"Mind if I join you?"

I swivelled around on my heel to peer over my shoulder at the sound of the unexpected oncommer.

It was a surprise to find Healy there. Striding across the expanse of roof with an effortless elegance, as though he knew how much he was worth, like he didn’t care who was watching. I sort of envied that.

I opted for feigning nonchalance and simply shrugged in reply, jutting out my chin before forcing my gaze to return to the skyline.

Healy fiddled with something in my peripheral though and the ruffle of cellophane separated the sound of the city below from my smoky exhale.

"You got a lighter?"

It was a needless ask, Heally could already see that I had a cigarette lit in hand but that didn't seem to defer him. It felt as though he was actualing aiming to start up some kind of conversation, which was strange considering how standoffish he’d been during most of his visit.

I spared him another short glance as I went to dig my free hand into my back pocket, noting that his sunglasses were still wired into his curls which meant that I could actually see the way he was watching me now.

When he’d first walked over, Healy had stopped a comfortable distance away, but he closed it when I lifted the lighter up in success. The makeshift patio creaking beneath his weight.

He had his own cigarette dangling loosely from his lower lip, the butt stuck to the inside of the soft flesh as he invaded my space, indicating that he had no intention of taking the lighter from me. I couldn't quite help the way my gaze flitted down to his mouth and then up into his valourous eyes when he did, their colour darker now that his hair had fallen from behind his ear to shield a portion of his face from the sun's shining light.

I looked away almost as soon as Healy met my curious stare and swallowed sparsely before proceeding to flick the sparkwheel. It took two tries before it caught.

The warmth of the iridescent flame tickled my cheek as I held it up, and Healy cupped a hand between both our faces in an attempt to waylay the whistling wind as I moved in to light the cigarette's end.

The lighter was a tacky thing, cheap, and coloured an illuminous orange. I never usually thought much of it, tended to nick them right off of Finn's kitchen counter, or from strangers in the street whenever I needed a light.

But being this close to Healy, I could literally smell just how expensive the man's aftershave was, how it clung to the gentle curve of his neck. It reminded me of how different we were. Healy was obviously more inclined to the finer things in life- probably even had someone hired to light the poxy things for him.

I was quick to bite back the snort that bubbled within me at the sudden picture that painted, shaking my head as I dropped the lighter down to my side. Though I still wore a small smile when my gaze trailed back over to meet his, almost involuntarily now. And this time I couldn't bring myself to look away just yet.

Healy’s lips twisted into a rueful smirk once he’d inhaled a lungful, unblinking as he observed me once more, and I had to force my body to take a step back when I noted that neither of us had yet to move.

I cleared my throat and raised my hand again, but Healy’s smirk only grew.

"Meant to be quitting, you know." I quipped like many liars before me, hoping to ebb some of the remaining tension that had adhered itself to the air around us as I sucked some life back into my fag's dying flame.

Healy humoured me.

"How boring."

I huffed a breathy chuckle, a grey trail stuttering out with it.

"I know it's what everyone says, but for me it's true. Been trying to kick the habit ever since I started, to be honest."

I peered back over at him long enough to witness the way he directed an arched brow my way, smoke pooling from his mouth. It was second nature the way he did it, so casual, as though smoking was akin to breathing.

"Why haven't you then?"

The question caught me a little off guard. But only in the way that it was a first for him, at least from how I saw it, to pry into another's life. My life, my brain supplied unhelpfully. A big-shot singer like him to be prolonging our encounter more than necessary, surprised me even more.

Nonplussed, I found myself replying, "Life?"

He snorted pleasantly, "Cheers to that."

I watched on as he hoiked up his hand in a false toast before dropping it weightlessly to his side, dislodging the ash that perched at the end of the cigarette when his hand bounced off his hip.

Mimicking the showy gesture, I dipped my head before I chose to take another long drag, mostly to occupy the silence that enveloped us again more than anything else.

It was then that my mind began to wander. But before I could overthink this entire situation- because, let’s just be honest, I would’ve have to have been fucking barking not to have found this whole ordeal anything other than strange- my head snapped up at a scuffling sound and my eyes instantly tracked the way Healy had all but pounced his way up onto the roof’s ledge.

"You aiming to off yourself, or you simply tempting fate?" I blurted out before I could think better of it, unable to look away. He truly had my full focus now.

He grinned and my jaw ticked as Healy's snazzy boots kicked carelessly at the brickwork that lined the edge of the studio’s building, his soles walking a fine line, prancing along like the three story drop wasn't that much of a threat.

"Fate's far too busy to be fretting with the likes of me, love." He retorted, one hand buried in the jacket he adorned, the other holding his cigarette to his mouth. He paused about a foot away from me and leant forward to peer over the side, causing my poor heart to falter and just about fall out of my arse.

"The hell are you doing!" I snapped, immediately jumping forward to grab at his sleeve before he could tip any further. "You got a fucking death wish, or something?"

Healy only cackled as he rocked back into my tight grip, grinning so widely now. My breath stuttered at the very sound of it, amused but tinged with an edge of mania. And the lazy smile he shot me from over his shoulder after didn’t at all help the way my pulse was now thumping wildly through my veins, the parent in me having sent every nerve-ending into overdrive.

"Or something." He answered, a wily expression dawning.

He did jump down though and once his feet were firmly planted back on the decking, I shoved at his shoulder. "You're a right prick, you know that?"

"Awh, come on. Live a little, Squeaks!"

I shot him a lurid glare, far from amused by the mocking tone he’d taken on or the way he’d poked fun at my name.

"Honestly, what have you got to lose?" Healy went on to say, not paying my reaction any mind at all. I ignored his efforts, but couldn't stop my eyes from following after him when he recklessly returned to the edge, only this time he decidedly took a seat there. "Come on!"

He gestured for me to join him with a jerk of his head and I merely blinked. Stressing over whether or not he was being serious.

Healy’s buoyant grin was fast fading now though, but I wasn’t really too focused on that fact, all I could see as he glanced back at me was how lost he suddenly seemed behind all that bravado. It was hard to notice in truth, but I could see it there, ever so slight, in the hazing shadows casted behind his eyes.

"What, you just gonna leave me here on my lonesome?" He goaded once he'd deemed that I’d had more than enough time to respond, wiggling his brows from across the patio.

I was forced to blink away my tangent of thoughts then as I inhaled a deep breath.

After hesitating for the briefest of seconds, gaze flitting from Healy’s slumped form to the fire escape and then back again, I was sure that I saw his shoulders visibly tense. He’d noticed my uncertainty and had immediately raised those shackles back up, preparing to be let down again.

And for some reason, I found that I didn’t want that. So catching the inside of my cheek between my molars, I finally tossed the butt of my cigarette to one side and ambled over.

Healy smirked, all too pleased with himself as I nervously settled in beside him, leaving only a few centimetres space to separate us.

Not wanting to chance anything, I kept my hands plastered to the wall’s ledge, fingertips digging into the rough brick as I leant forward the tiniest little bit to scrutinise the time it would take my body to ultimately hit the asphalt below, if I so happened to fall.

I knew it was unlikely, but still pressed my lips firmly together, knowing it would likely be entirely Healy’s fault if something were to actually occur.

After a minute or so my heart calmed and I started to observe the way our legs dangled over the edge, side by side, swinging aimlessly above the narrow street way down below. The toes of Healy’s boots only just skimmed the jut of my ankle whenever his heels would hammer against the building’s hard exterior, close but never touching. I counted the beats.

There was a long few minutes of silence that passed between us sitting there, before Healy finally broke it, kicking the remnants of his fag far away and watching as it blurred from view.

"You come up here often then?"

A laugh broke free from me at that and I looked over.

"That a line?" I teased, unable to help myself nor the smirk that had worked its way onto my lips, whilst Healy’s eyes widened involuntarily, clearly not having expected the cheek from me. I decided to leave the ribbing there though, not wanting to push my luck, and smiled softly at him, deciding to give him an honest answer. "But I don't know, really. It depends."

"On what?"

"On whether or not I've got shit to do."

He hummed, fingers tapping at his knee. "Important shit?"

I couldn't quite stifle my laughter, "Yeah, important shit. Not all of us can live a lavish life up in Beverly Hills."

Healy pursed his lips at that, "Makes two of us then, fucking hate The Hills."

Surprised, my eyebrows shot up.

"Really?"

"Yes, really! It's a right shit show- the whole of fucking California is." Matty scoffed, almost stubbornly whilst shaking his head. I could see how much he meant his words though, even if they did somewhat confuse me.

"Least it's sunny though, right?"

Healy barked out a short laugh, turning his head towards me to meet my gaze head on. From this angle, I could see just how much brighter his eyes grew when he smiled, and wondered if he even realised. If anyone had told him.

"Least it's sunny." He mimicked, sounding all too amused.

I tore my eyes away. "What's so bad about California then, bigshot?"

The volume of Healy's snort actually surprised me but mercifully, I managed to hide the way I flinched before I turned my head back to face him.

"You could ask me anything, anything in the world, but that's what you settle on?"

My mouth drew itself into a pout as I furrowed my brow and shrugged. A little put out. "Always wanted to visit the National Park?"

"Oo, got a proper little adventurer on our hands, have we? California! Home of Venice Beach, Hollywood, and the planet's fittest stars- but all you wanna do is have a quick peek around at a mound of mouldy trees and old mountains?"

Tutting at his jeering, I rolled my eyes and hummed, "I mean, it looks sort of sick, don't it?"

"Sure. If you're going on eighty."

"Fuck off." I chuckled and knocked into Healy’s shoulder, throwing him off balance slightly.

"Oi, don't think I won't push you off this roof!" He warned and a giant grin threatened to overwhelm my face.

"Do it. I'll be sure to take you with me."

"That a threat?"

"It's a promise." I smirked.

"Oh, I don't much like those, Squeaks. You'll have to think of something better." Said Healy, tearing those eyes of his away upon noticing then just how close we'd gotten during the short span we'd spent taunting one another.

I licked my lower lip and watched him for a moment. "What's wrong with a promise?"

"What isn't?" Healy’s eyes looked vacant as they stared hard at the skyscrapers that littered the view. "They’re simply made to be broken, aren't they?" He shrugged, his blank facade quickly returning, that glaze in his eyes fading. "Anyway, why would I take your word upon only hearing you promise? Promises aren't truth, they aren't law. They're simply empty."

There was a long pause before, "Christ, who hurt you?"

My eyes widened upon hearing my own stupid insincerity, always putting my foot in it, and was hasty in the way I immediately opened my ginormous gob to apologise, but Healy’s soft laughter stopped me short.

"Now that's a question, Mouse."

I couldn't really bring myself to reply after hearing the sadness that fuelled his words. Didn't know if I even could. But I couldn't stop my lips from quietly mouthing my own name either, sure that it had been the first time Matty had ever used it.

The studio felt much quieter now without Jamie’s amiable laughter or Healy's all-consuming presence to fill the space. I found myself simply standing in the centre of the room long after they’d departed, half way between the booth and the settee, wondering what to do next.

I didn't have to pick Teddy up from the nursery for another half hour and the journey there would only take me five minutes or so. That meant that I was now somewhat at a standstill and those were rather rare when you had a toddler hanging about.

It had just started lashing it down outside. I could hear the heavy raindrops as they splattered their way across the windowpanes and formed a shallow pond on the skylight a few feet above my head.

It had only started spitting just as Matty and I had re-emerged from our little breakaway. My unfiltered mouth had been the beginning of an untimely end as I hadn't been able to sit there and stomach the silence much longer, having mentally scolded myself enough.

So I'd talked Matty off the ledge (literally) and hummed softly to myself as we’d descended the stairs in a desperate attempt to break up the awkward tension that drenched me. Adi and Jamie had been waiting up for us by the window when we'd returned and Healy's manager had been in a hurry to whisk him away, grinning happily as he said his goodbyes, a mobile pressed to his ear whilst he coerced Healy down the stairs. He went without much bother.

"That went well, I reckon!" Came Adi's voice as she exited the kitchenette, holding another round of tea in her hands and a plate of bourbons too.

She settled herself down onto the sofa and motioned for me to come join her, clicking her tongue whilst her many rings clattered against her ceramic mug. The same one she often favoured.

"Come on, sit down! I want to know the ins and outs of everything you two talked about up there! Twitter's been going positively mad ever since the show went live!"

I sighed but followed the order, taking up a perch on the edge of the settee beside her, enjoying the warmth that blanketed my hands upon being handed my own brew. The heat of it tingling my fingertips.

"It turned out okay then? No one’s started up a riot, or threatened to have my life, have they?"

Adi rolled her eyes good-naturedly in reply, laughing at my melodramatics. "Nah, you're all good, babe. Think a few of 'em actually liked you. Fancy that, hey?"

She winked at me from over the rim of her mug but I merely hummed in return, knowing that Ads didn't miss the underlying scepticism that accompanied it.

"I'm serious, M! Apparently it's been a while since Matty's acted so genuine! Hang on, reckon that’s the right word for it?" She shrugged, answering her own question, and then barrelled on, "Either way, they're already petitioning for us to have him on again. Here just look, I'll show you."

I watched on as Adi tried to balance her scalding hot tea on the knob of her knee whilst she fumbled for her phone. I stilled it just in time before it could start tilting and she grinned up at me in thanks, now brandishing a bright screen. "Aha! Here you are. See there, babe? They adore you!"

With a scrunch of my nose, I leant in closer to peer down at the illuminated text, watching as a stream of tweets continued to flood Adi’s neverending feed. I placed my mug down onto the coffee table not long after and stole the phone from out of the girl's grasp.

M @/user1 15s Lovedlovedloved today's show!! #MouseOnAMic

13 @/user2 23s The smiles?! How cute, he looked like he really enjoyed the interview!

Pol @/user3 29s Missed seeing Adi’s lovely face:(( But I honestly think this was one of the show's best releases!!!

Robber @/user4 37s AHHH what was that??

Bean @/user5 46s Um imma need a minute bc I don't think I've heard Matty talk that much in a while

197die @/user6 51s Why are they so adorable?? My heart!!

AM @/user7 1m Please bring Matty back!! @/petitesouris @/AdelineWells_

"Shit."

Adi cackled whilst I chucked her back her phone, surprised by what I’d read.

"Told you, babe! They seem to love the two of you together."

"Why are they spouting all that crap?"

Adi shrugged, exiting the app with a swipe of her thumb before switching the whole thing off. "Just the internet, ain’t it? Besides... they're not really wrong."

She laughed loudly at whatever expression must have crossed my face then and I huffed to myself, picking up my mug and shuffling over to settle further into the cushions.

"He's so painfully male though, Adi. I mean, you must've seen all the models he hangs about with."

Adi’s eyes lit up at that, looking as though I’d just mentioned that Greggs was currently handing out free sausage rolls on the nearest street corner, I raised a brow.

"Oh, I have, babe. Just didn't realise that you've been keeping tabs on him too!"

Helplessly I spluttered, almost spilling my tea in my rush to sit up. Ads tittered away, so obviously entertained by my reaction.

"I have not!"

Adi hummed sceptically, mug cradled close to her chest now, "Sure, hun, and the sun doesn’t shine out of my arse."

I flicked her arm, "I'm being honest with you- I just had to get a little background information on him for the interview! That's all."

With a slow nod and a shitty attempt to dampen her ever growing grin, Adi replied, "What, so you don't think he's fit then?"

My eyes widened and lips parted at her question.

I couldn’t outright deny that Healy was nice to look at- he fit a certain esthetic, alright? But I also did not want Adi teasing me anymore than she already had. Especially after seeing what all of Matty’s fans had to say about the pair of us online. Was it too late to switch careers?

Besides, it was just a passing fancy sort of thing, and Healy obviously didn’t view me in the same light. That, and I had Teddy to worry about. If anything this was just a fleeting thing, I could admit that at the very least.

"He's-"

"Fit as fuck? Hotter than a rubber ring on a summer's day? Mysterious enough to lure just about any one in?" Adi interrupted, filling in the blanks.

I blinked at her before snorting a laugh, my breath fanning the steam that slipped from my tea.

"I was going to say nice."

"Nice? Nice! Mouse, that boy is not 'nice'! Far from it! Broody and bloody stubborn, those I can get behind! But nice? No. Nice looking, sure- maybe if you were an eighty year old woman complimenting her grandson on his birthday. But not nice."

"That's the second time today I've been compared to an OAP." I acknowledged, frowning at what it might mean.

Adi's eyes snapped over to meet mine, earnest and impenetrable. "I'm bein’ serious here, Mouse."

I rolled my eyes.

She groaned loudly in return. "Come on, just admit it! He's a right looker."

I hung my head against the back of the settee, emitting a heavy sigh as I stared up at the ceiling. “Yeah, alright, he’s fit.”

"I knew it! You so fancy him!"

My head snapped towards her at that and I narrowed my eyes, “I didn’t say that.”

"Didn't need to." Adi beamed all too happily, pulling a knee up to her chest, eyes gleaming. "It's called reading in between the lines, babe!"

"Ads, how- you know what, forget it. I'm not even going to begin to tell you how stupid you just sounded."

Adi harrumphed and waved off my efforts to preserve some of my dignity. "So, what are you going to do about it then? Cross your heart and hope he's down to fuck you sideways?"

I truly couldn’t help the way I grimly spat my tea back into my mug whilst I started to shake with a startled laughter. Adi, the cow, had to pull what was left of my drink away just so that I could wipe at my chin, laughing all the while.

"You're such a twat, you know that?"

Adi only grinned at me from the other end of the sofa and shrugged. "You love me for it."

I couldn't deny that, grinning right back at her. "That I do, my love. Fancy keeping me company whilst I pick up Teddy then?"

Another week dragged by and my days had been nothing short of chaotic, filled with stress, tears, and toddler tantrums.

Teddy had fallen ill on the Wednesday, all snotty nosed and high temperature. I’d had to take the day off work just to pull him out of nursery early when the school had called, leaving Adi to fend for herself for a long while. The little tike had refused to eat or drink the entire time he'd spent recuperating in my bed, and I’d been forced into bargaining with him to simply get him to take his medicine. Who claimed too much tele was bad for you anyway?

Teddy's temperature spiked on Thursday night though and I had struggled to hold back sobs of my own whilst on the phone to my mam, listening to my son shriek and cry in the background as she tried to instruct me on what to do.

But thankfully, things had finally started looking up for us on the Friday afternoon. Teddy had asked for some toast that morning and, although I had been fearful (the sight of sick having been something I’d been forced to get over this past week), the boy had managed to keep it down. And we'd spent that evening together on the sofa, swaddled in a sea of blankets, singing quietly along to The Lion King.

Saturday and Sunday had been a whirlwind. I had spent so much time cooped up in the flat with Teddy that Finn came round Saturday morning to all but shove us out the front door. Ever the angel though, he'd treated us to a greasy fry up down at the local cafe and had even taken Teddy off of my hands for a couple of hours when Adi had texted to ask if I'd be around later on to help out with Monday's show.

Sunday was spent keeping an eye on my rowdy four year old, who had all but bounced back to the image of perfect health- as though the previous few days had been nothing but a bad dream. Humoring Adi and I whilst we’d conjured up new ideas at the studio.

Healy’s management team had emailed about mid week, sharing some statistics and thanking the show for our ‘aid’, but it had all sounded far too condescending for my liking. Then again, most emails tended too and my mood had also been depleting rapidly ever since the segment had aired. So there was that. Adi did get a few minutes spare to email something back for me though, which I appreciated.

Jamie had also taken the time to message too, which had brought a shocked smile to my face. I’d figured that the man must have picked up my number from Adi whilst he'd been visiting, or from someone else on his team. But I’d texted back, wishing him well, not wanting to be impolite.

But the thing is, Jamie hadn’t left it there. Which had been a somewhat welcomed surprise. Throughout the week he'd taken to messaging here and there, asking about the show, my day, taking the time to fill me in on all the good and bad parts of his own. His job seemed more than fucking stressful, but I should've guessed that much, what with him having the pleasure of having to keep up with Healy all day. I'd wondered on more than one occasion how that dynamic typically played out, but never asked.

It was around four on Monday afternoon when I found myself leaving the loft, finally having caught up on most of the crap I’d missed the last week.

Adi had long since departed, having had a commitment to get to. Something to do with helping a mate find the perfect dress for her big day, which was fast approaching, and had abandoned me the first chance she'd got, leaving me to wrap and lock up all on my lonesome.

Teddy was also off with Finn after school today, as he was most afternoons when we had to film for the show. So I’d planned to pick up a takeaway to surprise the two of them with on my way over, then stick around long enough to pester my best mate before he finally grew sick of Teddy and I and sent us on our merry way.

I was just locking up, humming a soft tune that had been stuck in my head all day, when I heard a scuffle sound around the corner. I only looked up once I'd tugged on the handle hard enough to make sure all was well, but was startled to find a familiar face staring back at me.

"Shit. You proper scared me!" I breathed out heavily, a hand coming up to rest over my beating heart whilst my eyes wandered over Matty’s hunched form.

The singer was clad in the same heavy jacket he'd been wearing the last time we'd met, an oversized hoodie and jeans too, as well as a pair of dark sunnies which blended effortlessly into a black beanie that hid his hair from view.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned and could hear the shock that lined my voice as I stepped out onto the pavement to join the singer, who had since propped himself up against the side of my building.

"Was in the area." Was all Matty gave away, but he kicked off of the wall to shove his hands into his trouser pockets when I approached.

"You were in the area and just so happened to end up here?" I asked, bemused. My eyes glanced up and down the narrow backstreet to see if anyone else was mulling about long enough to recognise ‘the singer from that one band’ before they retreated back to him.

Healy tilted his head to one side, "That alright?"

He looked far too nonchalant, as though he had a tendency to drop in at every radio station he'd wound up commandeering over the years, making me feel stupid for not having expected it.

I had to force out a little laugh, unsure on how to reply exactly. "Yeah- I mean, sure. Just, I don't know, I didn't expect to ever see you again."

Healy's mouth quirked ever so slightly to one side at that but he hid it in the way he cocked his chin towards the highstreet a way ahead. "Where you off to?"

"Um," I swallowed, pausing for a moment to tug at my jacket sleeve so that I could take a quick look at my watch. "Well, I've got about an hour before I've got to be somewhere, but nowhere right this minute."

Maybe I was being presumptuous. Bold even. But why else would he be here?

I lifted my head back up and found Healy already watching me, and if the man had noticed the scars that marred my wrist he didn't say anything, simply nodded.

"Got time to grab a coffee then?" He suggested and I, even in my dazed surprise, somehow dipped my head in slight agreement.

"Sure." I answered, albeit a little breathlessly.

We walked together, me just a step ahead as we emerged from the sidestreet which housed the studio. I caught himself waiting for someone else to catch onto the fact that the infamous Matty Healy was walking amongst us commoners. But no one seemed to be any the wiser, Matty's all black get-up allowed him to move about the city almost inconspicuously, letting me shepherd him into a nearby bakery without any fuss at all.

"Why don't you go grab us a table and I'll order?" I found myself saying as we stepped into the shop.

Healy stared at me for a long moment before he finally nodded. Quietly asking for a simple coffee as I wandered over to join the queue.

Joanna's bakery had been around for decades now, or so I’d been told, shacked up between ever changing franchises and fast food chains. It had become a long loved favourite of mine since having moved to London, I'd found it during my time at uni and it had truly been a godsend throughout the first few weeks of having baby Teddy. Joanna's coffee had been the only thing keeping me afloat way back then.

I gave a bright grin when the woman’s greying hair came into view, eyes catching mine from behind a pair of spectacles Teddy, for some odd reason, seemed fascinated by whenever we dropped in.

"Hello, you." The ageing woman greeted me with a sweet smile. "Good to see you're doing well, and how is young Teddy?"

"He's doing fine, thank you, Joa. Just overcame a bout of flu." I informed her, hip checking the wooden counter that housed a row of cabinets. "Been a hectic couple of days."

Joanna's brows lifted and her thin lips pursed in concern as she tucked a tea-towel into her navy apron. "I can only assume so. He's doing well now though, I hope?"

I waved off her unnecessary worry with a fond smile, "Right as rain, racing around without a care in the world today. Me though? I’m still trying to get over it- not that he realises.” I chuckled, “He gave me quite the scare, if I'm being honest."

"Kids tend to do that. But Mouse, my dear, you should have called! I would have had some soup sent over for him."

With an appreciative grin, I thanked her, knowing that there was no falseness in her offer, "I'll remember that for next time, I'm sure Teds would've loved it."

Joanna returned my sentiment with a gentle nod before the sound of the shop's bell rang over the door, announcing another customer. "Well then, what can I get for you, dove?"

I exhaled, glancing up towards the blackboarded menu mostly out of habit, "One regular coffee, please-"

"Isn't it a bit late in the day for coffee? You'll be up all night." Joanna scolded lightly, cutting me off, I couldn't help the soft chuckle I gave. Forever humoured by the women in my life constantly telling me what to do.

"Not for me, Joa, don't you worry." I hurried to assure her before prattling off the rest of my order without another interruption once Joanna had hummed in a quiet understanding.

"Takeaway?" She prompted, but I shook my head, gesturing over my shoulder towards the many tables behind.

"We'll sit in, if that's okay."

Joanna blinked in surprise, obviously not having seen me enter with anybody. "I didn't realise Adeline had come in, I usually hear her."

I gave a peel of laughter at that but was quick to press my lips together. "No, no. No Adi today, I'm with a new friend."

The older woman smiled at me as she pushed her glasses further up her nose, "I see."

My head tilted in confusion at odd her tone but left it be. "Could I also get some of that famous chocolate cake of yours while I'm at it? Two slices, please."

"Of course, I'll have it sent right over."

I grinned and waited until I'd paid and Joanna had turned her back on me before shoving my change into the tip jar.

It was an ongoing thing between us, the first time I'd tried to leave anything behind she'd sent me on my way with an entire tray of carrot cake. I had been more than grateful for the unexpected gift but it didn't take me long before I realised what the older woman had been up to. So I'd taken to sneaking my tips into the jar whenever she wasn't looking. Joanna though, it seemed, had eyes in the back of her head, so she chose to repay this act with a multitude of free treats, often gifted through Teddy so that I was unable to decline.

Picking up the two mugs Joanna set down on the counter, I was then promptly shooed away. So, shaking my head and chuckling softly, I turned without another word said and bypassed a crowd of customers that had since entered the bakery, in search of Matty.

I found him seated at a booth in the very far back, having shucked off his jacket and glasses now that he had his back turned towards the rest of the room. Though he’d kept the beanie, I noted.

Steeling the nerves I felt, I settled the drinks down on the table and smiled apologetically when I saw that Matty had startled at the sound.

"One plain black coffee. Didn't know whether you wanted any sugar or not, so I stashed some sachets away just in case." I laughed before upending a supply of sugar packets from my pocket onto the table.

He simply laughed as he reached out to take two. "Cheers."

I dipped my head and worked on pouring a few splashes of milk into my own brew. I was just stirring when someone approached, almost instantly I found myself grinning at the sight.

"Mouse! My, it's been a while, what ever did we do to deserve such a pleasure?" Cassie greeted me with a delighted smile, settling two small plates onto the table before rounding it to pull me into a hug.

Laughing softly, I wrapped an arm around her neck and enjoyed the way she squeezed me tight, a fixture that accompanied every one of her hugs, before we parted. "Only been a week since you last saw me, Cas. Don't act as though you've missed me."

Cassie gifted me with a wink and beaming grin before she pivoted and turned to catch a glance at my tagalong.

I watched as her eyes widened briefly, obviously not having expected this particular visitor to be staring back at her, but she was professional enough to conceal her shock.

"Well, this is a first." Cassie announced, still smiling away whilst she looked between the two of us sat at the table. "Can't remember the last time you brought us a new visitor, Mouse. You must be special- I'm Cassie, by the way."

Healy's eyes darted between the hand the waitress had extended out and myself. I tried for an encouraging smile but wasn't exactly sure if I’d managed to pull it off or not.

Cassie, as lovely as she was, was definitely a shock to an introvert’s system. I’d learnt that lesson all too quickly. But Healy had handled Adi with ease and she was levels above Cassie, the bright eyed woman standing before us now almost seemed shy in comparison, in truth.

"Matty." He forced out as he took Cas’s hand in his own, "Great to meet you."

He cleared his throat when his palm returned to cradling the inside of his cup and Cassie smiled sweetly at him.

"Good to meet you too, Matty. I hope you enjoy the cake, it's a favourite of M's." She chuckled, nudging the plate closest towards me. "I hear it's all she ever raves about."

I grinned impishly as I picked up my spoon and bit down on a mouthful of chocolate delight. "And it's all I ever will rave about. Nothing compares to Joa’s gâteau."

Cassie rolled her eyes at me but tittered, "I know, I know, we've heard it all before! I'll leave you both to it then, the life of a waitress waits for no one. Hope you enjoy the food though- and again, it was nice to meet you Matty, don't be a stranger."

With that she waltzed off, but not without throwing a gleeful grin over her shoulder that only I was meant to see.

I wrinkled my mouth to keep from reacting outwardly before deciding to focus back on my dessert.

"Sorry about her." I felt the need to murmur, glancing across the table.

Healy shook his head, smiling slightly. "Don't, she seemed nice."

I couldn't help my short laugh, recalling an earlier conversation had with Adi. "Oh she's nice, all right."

Healy didn't comment on my strange reaction, only arched a questioning brow and pulled his cake in closer.

"You know, you pronounced that in perfect French."

"Pronounced what?" I quizzed, already scooping up another spoonful.

"Gâteau." Healy informed, botching the imitation, fingertips poised over the rim of his plate.

"Yeah, and?"

He shook his head again, "Just caught me off guard is all. You speak it then, fluently?"

Tongue in my cheek, I nodded. "Mam's from a tiny village in Alsace."

"Wow. So how'd you end up with that accent then?"

I breathed out an airy laugh, "What's that meant to mean, Manc? Is it too crass for the likes of your wellbred ears?"

Healy's eyes, honest to God, bulged as he fought not to trip over his own tongue in an attempt to mend his minced words.

"No, no, I just meant-"

"I know what you meant. Don't worry." I chuckled, taking pity seeing as I’d already shot back. "I’m only having you on. She met my dad there when he was visiting, but the two of them moved when they married."

"Oh. That's good, I ‘spose. She loved him enough to follow him home."

I hollowed my cheeks and focused my stare on my chocolate smeared spoon.

"Wouldn't put it quite like that, but yeah she loved him. Even after he fucked off."

With a cluck of my tongue, I pushed the cake away and focused instead on my drink.

"I'm sorry."

Frowning for a split second, I forced out a breath and the emotions that had roused back down, then put on a brave face. Determined not to think about it any longer than I had to.

"No, don’t be. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. Just, hard to talk about is all." I scratched at the grain etched into the wooden table.

"Nah, I get that." Healy assured with a shrug, "Don't have to apologise for it though, you have a right to your emotions."

For some reason, that reply surprised me and I had to fight back the urge to say whatever was on the tip of my tongue. I merely nodded instead and went back to picking at the cake.

"Fuck. That's good."

My head snapped up at the audible moan that Healy emitted and found the man pulling a chocolate coated silver spoon from his lips.

"What the fuck do they put in this?" He questioned me, eyes wide as he heaped another helping into his mouth.

"No idea." I laughed, watching closely now.

"Whatever it is, it's fucking good."

And with that, the tension was broken. Healy practically inhaled his serving of cake whilst I portioned mine, smiling around every mouthful. We made small talk as we sipped our drinks quietly, ignoring everyone else bustling about the bakery.

It wasn't long before I finally found the balls to ask the question I'd been meaning to ask ever since Matty had shown up outside the studio though.

"So, can I ask why you decided to pay me a visit now? Or, is it all top secret? Like hush hush."

His lips twisted before he replied, "Don't have an actual answer for you. Had a shitty day and ended up storming off, didn't even realise I'd wandered so far from the recording studio until I caught sight of one of the backroads we'd taken to get to your loft the other day.” He shrugged, finger toying with the near empty cup. “Was faced with the choice of finding the nearest pub and getting pissed, or seeing if you were in. It was a toss up."

"And I won?" I found myself asking, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

"Would seem so."

"Happy I could help, then. The former wouldn't have done you much good."

Healy’s eyes met mine then and his gaze flickered across the length of my face.

I couldn't really place the expression he wore and almost had a small fit when I wondered over whether or not he was looking at my scars, but found that I didn't care much. Which was odd and had me feeling self conscious all over again.

"No, I don't suppose it would've."

It took a second for me to connect the dots, to remember what I’d even said, but when I did I smiled.

Not long after polishing off our drinks, I suggested we take a walk to burn off the cake we’d piled on. But in reality, I had just realised that without the big jacket and sunglasses it was hard to miss the marvel that was Matty Healy sitting in an old Islington bakery.

Matty had been all for the idea and so together we’d exited the bakery, me calling out my goodbyes to Joanna and Cassie when I passed. The older woman’s gaze lingered on Matty’s retreating form but she bid us nothing but a soft nod with her quiet farewell.

We wasted what was left of the hour I had wandering down backroads, just taking in the city and talking between ourselves. I picked up on where Matty had been raised, in a large house in a town just south of Manchester. He hadn’t lingered too long on the topic of his family, either reasoning that I already knew about it or preferring not to, but I was more than happy to tell Matty about my mum. Recalling stories of my youth, of Christmases spent in our tiny cottage, and summers down by the creek.

It was to my own wasted effort, not trying to focus too many of my questions on Matty’s career, because a lot of what surrounded him came from or was to do with being in the limelight. From his friends and social circle, to his everyday life. Matty’s hobby had and always would be music, that much was incredibly clear to me, only he’d just been lucky enough to make a career out of it.

Before long, I realised that our time was finally up and I was left observing the way Matty toed the edge of the curb just outside of the busy train station.

Surprisingly, Matty had wanted to walk me all the way there, just to make sure that I could arrive and board the train with all my limbs still intact. And, to his credit, he’d done exactly that, even with all of my amused reassurance that I’d be fine and did it daily.

But in truth, it was just me being overly concerned about someone recognising who Matty really was and starting a crazed frenzy. In my head all I could see was him disappearing into an ocean of teenage girls that suddenly swarmed him, calling out for help.

I would be well and truly fucked if something were to happen to Matty whilst he was under my watch.

"You know," I began, staring up at the dark haired man before me. Noticing then that Matty, although older, looked an awful lot younger in that very moment. "I am glad you picked me."

He stared back at me, dark shades tucked into the lining of his jacket now. “That so?”

My cheeks bunched as I tried to dim my smile.

"Yeah," I confirmed with a soft chuckle, "Strange as it was at first, I surprisingly enjoyed myself."

"Surprisingly? I'm glad." Matty smiled, a small thing that wrinkled the corners of his eyes as he tugged at his ear. "I did too."

I returned the gesture, chest tightening.

The pavement rumbled beneath our feet then, meaning yet another train had pulled into the station beneath us and the Underground didn't wait around for anyone. I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I’d best be on the next one in hopes of making it to Finn's at a decent hour but I was unable to leave Matty just yet.

"You gonna be okay getting home?" I wondered, gaze skirting over the many heads that crowded the street as a dozen other people filed out of the station doors. "I mean, have you got money for a cab or something? Someone to call?"

I flushed when Matty laughed at my unnecessary concern, suddenly embarrassed by the thought of sounding like my mother. I bit back the urge to outwardly cringe.

"I'll be alright, babe. I'll have someone pick me up. Thanks though."

I dipped my head in understanding and then shoved my cold hands deeper into the pockets of my coat, rocking back and forth slightly. "So I'll be seeing you then?"

"Would you want to?"

I blinked, surprised by the question. Or maybe by the way Matty had phrased it.

“What d’you mean? What, did you just figure I'd spend an hour with you, dash off, and then never speak to you again? If it's alright, I actually wouldn't mind keeping in contact. It's not like Jamie doesn't already talk my ear off everyday, so what's adding you into the mix gonna do?"

“Hang on. Jamie? As in my Jamie? Jamie, Jamie? Manager Jamie, he actually messages you?” Matty immediately quizzed and at my mirthful nod, he shook his head in disbelief. “The dickhead!”

"He never mentioned it?" I thought to ask, unable to stifle my growing laughter.

"No he fucking didn't!" Matty replied with his tongue pressed against his top teeth. But his mouth was still curled upwards as he continued to shake his head, and so I took his reaction with a pinch of salt.

"Well, sorry to have been the one to break it to you then."

Matty snorted and lifted his eyes, hazy brown holding my stare. “Nah, it’s fine. Honestly just fucked off he got your number before I even had the chance to ask."

My eyebrows shot upwards, unsure on how to take that. "Um, well. I mean you could still ask?"

The minuscule smile Matty had been wearing switched into a full blown smirk at my stuttered words and I saw the challenge in his stare when he stealthily stepped closer.

"Well then, Squeaks. Would you do me the honour of giving me your number, or you gonna have me beg in front of all these people?"

I huffed a breathy laugh as I pulled my mobile out, handing it over to him without a second thought.

The way his face lit up caught me off balance and I could only watch on whilst Matty rushed to type an assortment of numbers into the device.

“What are you doing?” I suddenly asked, ginning when Matty angled the phone out in front of him.

He paused to glance over, shooting me a mischievous grin, one that had my stomach flipping at the very sight- and shit, if that wasn't a bad sign. But I could only focus on Matty now, on the way his grin changed his entire face, the haughty arrogance he had once carried fading alongside the sharp, sunken lines of his profile. It brought a pretty colour to his cheeks and brightened the shadows that stormed his eyes.

It was hard to look away.

“Need a photo, don’t I?” Matty retorted easily, “How else you gonna know it’s me phoning?”

I was honestly somewhat startled by the sudden difference I saw in Matty then, in the confidence he now held, the very same that appeared in the videos I’d seen of him up on stage. In the good natured teasing and wit he shot out that had me struggling to form a valid response.

“Messaged myself too,” Matty explained, pulling me from my observation. “So all we need now, is a photo of you.”

Sure enough, when I pulled my full focus back to Matty, or on what he was now saying rather, I found him there holding his own phone up towards me.

"Come on, give us a smile then, mardarse." Matty mocked and I scoffed in return, the corners of my mouth twitching at the sound of his accent becoming more prominent.

“God, you’re a right prat.” I rebuked, but it was softened by the mad grin I wore as I knuckled Matty’s elbow. “Fine, go on then, but make sure you get my good side, Healy!”

"But every side is your good side!"

I simply rolled my eyes at the exaggeration then leant in as near as I could to the camera so that it could get a close up of the face I made. Hands still tucked into my pockets and eyes now staring directly into the lens, I pooled my tongue out like a panting dog as I tilted my head to the side.

Matty’s bark of laughter echoed out across the highstreet, loud enough that it had a few heads turning, but no one paid much mind to a man who now had his face buried in his phone, gazing down at the picture he had just snapped.

"Good enough?" I asked, rubbing at my nose and glancing about as the self doubt began to seep in now that the fun was over.

Matty raised his head, and I reckoned that my pulse must have stuttered when I caught a glimpse of his wide eyes and bright smile.

"Perfect."

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slutshamethesquirrels · 5 days

Text

The Breadline

Ch.4 - The Closing Shift pairing: recovering!line cook!eren yeager x fat!fem!reader TW's: alcoholism, recovery, mentions of abuse, mentions of domestic violence, foster care, child custody, foster system, CPS, mentions of body/weight

To say you woke up frazzled would be an understatement.

Earlier that week, you had officially had the metaphorical training cord cut between you and Jean, and quickly learned just how hard the job was going to be. Customers had been dickheads, Levi had been ruthless when you made mistakes, and you’d stopped counting how many trays you dropped after number four. You had done your best to keep your interactions short and sweet with Eren, avoiding him at all costs whenever possible. Rumors had started to swirl about his interest in you (no doubt thanks to Jean) and between the gossip and your uncertainty about his intentions you thought it best to leave him alone.

Your feet ached, your head pounded, and the last thing you wanted was to get out of your bed extra early to have a meeting with Erwin Smith. To top it all off, you had started your period the night before and woken up to the sound of thunder as a storm brewed outside.

Unfortunately, Levi had been unwilling to let you swap shifts or come in late to make your normal scheduled check-ins with Mr.Smith. With Erwin’s afternoons booked for the week, the only option had been a quick sunrise meeting.

So, begrudgingly, you had gotten up and dressed before the sun had risen, and forced Ellie to get up as well. At first, she’d fought you. Kicking, screaming, crying as you did your best to wrangle her out of her bed and into a suitable outfit for the day. After all, hell has no fury like a toddler whose schedule abruptly changed. She didn't stop until you brought out the big guns.

“Eleanor Grace.”

The dreaded legal first and middle name, coupled with wide eyes and a clenched jaw had stopped her train of terror in its tracks, immediately.

When Erwin knocks on your door, she's seated on the couch, begrudgingly working her way through a pop tart and a fresh sippy cup. Her hair was slicked back into two pig tails and she wore a yellow rain coat adorned with pink flowers go match the glitter on her boots, prepped and ready to brave the rain right after Erwin left. Your old box TV was playing the same Sesame Street dvd she’d watched forty times in the past three days, but she wasn't even really paying attention. She looked like a war-torn soldier in a baby suit, and after the way she had just battled you that morning, you decided she probably was.

You open the door and greet Erwin with a weary goodmorning, motioning him in. He seems to be the only one of the three of you that's chipper. As always, his hair was perfectly combed away from his face, and his business casual slacks and button up barred not a single wrinkle as he closed and shook out his umbrella before making entry.

Before he can so much as say hello to her, Ellie tattles on you:

“Mommy's really mean to me.”

Oh, you could absolutely choke her! Now was not the time, and from your angle just behind Erwin you catch her eyes, shaking your head at her and going bright red. Your expression tells her she's in big trouble if she doesn't hush.

“Oh is she?!” you're slightly relieved when Erwin’s tone is theatrical and warm, signaling he in fact, does not think you beat her. He turned his head briefly to shoot you an amused grin, and you quickly snapped your face to him and fixed your expression into one that didn't look like you were plotting Ellie’s murder.

“Someone's a little upset about having to be up early.” You explain in a sickeningly sweet tone, your voice laced with honey to cover up the venom..

“I can tell!” He chimed before walking over and crouching in front of the couch to interact with her on her level, and probably give her a once over for signs of neglect.

“Hey friend, how are you?” His tone was gentle and soft. Ellie was not having it, her brow furrowed in anger with every word. He tried again.

“What’cha got there? Can I have some?” This time, he was attempting to tease her into showing him a smile, even extending out his palm for her to give him some of what was left of her drool covered pop tart, but it proved to be futile. You could've sworn it happened in slow motion.

Her eyes darted from his face to his outstretched hand repeatedly, cheeks swelling and reddening as she came to terms with the fact that he was requesting for her to share; her least favorite thing in the world to do. About the time she started inhaling deeply you began a quick stride over to pick her up before she could throw a tantrum. You expected her to scream, cry, but what she did was somehow worse.

Quick, forceful and angry, and with an enunciation more clear than you’d ever heard her speak before, she gave him an answer:

“No, bitch-”

Little did you know, that morning was going to be the easiest part of the day.

“So, did you like turn him down or something?”

You really liked Sasha, for the most part. She was fun, bubbly, and had a habit of making you laugh with her complete inability to be anything other than atrociously blunt. However, as the two of you huddled around the new schedule Levi had posted behind the register, you had bigger fish to fry, and the last thing you really wanted to talk about was Eren Yeager.

“No, not really-” You sighed with disinterest, tracing over the blocks on Saturday night's column with your fingers and gnawing on your bottom lip with worry. He’d put you down for a closing shift, which meant you could be stuck here until one in the morning. Finding someone to watch Ellie was going to be a nightmare. The daycare closed at seven, every member of your family struggled with drug and alcohol addiction, and most of your friends had grown distant once you became in impromptu mom. What the fuck were you gonna do?

“No, not really!” Sasha imitated your own words in an overwhelmingly breathy and high pitched tone, and then, back to her normal speaking voice, continued her pestering.

“Come on, dude! Something had to happen. He's right back to stomping around back there. Turning the whole vibe rancid!”

You rolled your eyes at her, but she wasn't wrong. All morning he’d been a tense bundle of nerves. It was different from how you’d ever seen him. Every move he made seemed tense and rigid, every reply a curt “yes” or “no” or “got it”. The vibrancy in his eyes had been dulled and replaced with light that seemed a little more artificial, and you thought if he clenched his jaw any harder his teeth might crack from the pressure alone.

“All I want is a french dip and everytime I go back there to ask he just snarls at me like some sort of rabies infested dog-” she whined, throwing a hand across her forehead dramatically “-all because you won't put out! I may simply waste away-”.

“I'm sorry your highness,” you snarked “I kind of blew him off the last few times we worked together- not like that!”. You gave her a pointed glare as she paused the theatrics to cock an eyebrow and smirk at you suggestively, not allowing her to get a word in edgewise before getting back to the point:

“I just noticed that you and Jean were right and I didn't like it. He doesn't flirt with me like he wants to hold my hand, he flirts with me like I’m something to devour-”

“Kinky-”

“Stop it.”

She giggles, and you huff through your nose, but find yourself sarcastically smiling back at her.

“Even if I wanted to pursue that, I can't risk breaking Levi’s golden rule right now. If I get fired I’m beyond fucked.”

“Aaaaaand if you get fucked you’re beyond fired. I get it.”

You resisted the urge to tell her she really didn't. She didn't get it at all. From what you’d learned of Sasha, her parents were absolute angels. Her mom was a teacher. Her dad coached three different T-Ball teams from ages six to nine. She still lived at home, worked part time and bumbled around her college campus doing more socializing and grazing at the cafeteria than studying. Anytime she was asked what she was in school for, her reply was something along the lines of “I have no clue”. She was smart, and sweet, but her parents were certified in early childhood development for christ sake, their whole life was spent around raising and loving children. She’d gotten an easy hand. If she got fired tomorrow, there would be no consequence. You were sure mommy and daddy wouldn't so much as bat an eye-

Wait.

Suddenly, your face lit up.

“Sasha!” You exclaimed “Your parents!”

She looked confused, stating flatly “I am not letting you fuck my parents-”

“What? No. This is unrelated-” Your face momentarily scrunched before getting back to the question on your mind “Do they babysit ever?”.

She wiggles her hand it the air, the universal signal for it's iffy “Kind of? They used to do it a lot, but in their old age they tend to only do it for family. My mom has some auto-immune issues these days so they try to keep it to a minimum. Why?”.

Your heart sank a little. And then, with a sigh you admitted “Levi put me on the schedule Saturday night and I have no one to keep Ellie.”.

“Ellie? That's your sister right?”

You nod.

“Oh…shit.” She grabs the schedule on the counter between the two of you and analyzes it intently for a moment “You know? I'll tell you what-”. She flops it back down on the counter “If you can go back there and convince your shitty lil boyfriend to make me my lunch, I'll pitch it to my parents.”.

At first you tried to argue, both about Eren being your “boyfriend” and then about the act of trying to talk to him after you’d been doing your best to avoid him, but it quickly became clear you had no choice. She was determined to get that food, come hell or high water. Which was precisely how you ended up tiptoeing around to the edge of the kitchen, leaning on the back wall and rubbing your hands together anxiously, waiting for Yeager’s return from wherever he’d gone.

Thankfully, the place was dead, mostly due to the rain pounding against the windows. All of the other staff for first shift had been cut, save Yeager, yourself and Sasha. The waitstaff had only two tables a piece, all four of which had already ordered and were in the middle of eating. Not a single order flashed on the screen as you observed the kitchen and everyone had been busying themselves with cleaning. As you waited, you noticed just how meticulously Eren had been cleaning in particular. All the metal in the kitchen sparkled, and the grease in the fryers looked clear enough to drink. The entire space smelled of the disinfectant from the mop station, and not a single utensil was out of place. You wondered if this was a testament to his work ethic, or possibly a display of a general taste for organization. Perhaps he’d simply had to find a way to channel all that pent up negativity he seemed to be carrying. It was almost unnerving.

What felt like an eternity passed in the stillness that was the kitchen before you actually started to worry. Where the fuck had he disappeared to?

You wandered into the back at a turtle's pace, stopping to check the walk-ins as you did so. No sign of him there either. It wasn't until you rounded the corridor that you found him.

He was propped against the open door to Levi’s office, his spine aligned with the door frame and his arms crossed in front of him. Levi sat in his office chair, one leg crossed over and sipping on a mug as Eren spoke. You could tell he was trying to keep his voice hushed, but there was a lot of anger biting through, resulting in a crunched and low tone.

You intended to turn around, you really did, but curiosity got the better of you. You quickly reversed your step and disappeared behind the corner again, your side and hands resting against the wall as you tried to tune in to what he was saying, though you couldn’t make out everything.

“...isn't what we agreed upon…”

“...you know I can't control myself…”

”...that’s not on me, that’s a you problem…”

”...mess up all my progress…”

“...I know it been years, that's the point…”

You weren't getting anything from this. Not like it mattered anyway. You waited a few more moments until you heard the door to the office close, signaling to you that he'd stepped inside for privacy, and then straightened yourself with a deep breath. Okay. New plan.

You decided you’d circle back to Sasha through the bar entrance and update her that her sandwich was gonna take longer than expected. When Eren returned from whatever serious conversation he was having, maybe he’d feel better and make your life a little easier.

Except, when you took your first step around the corner you immediately got pummeled by what felt like a brick wall, all the air exited your chest with a yelp as you stumbled backward and lost your footing. You would've hit the floor if a rough hand hadn’t caught your forearm with such strength you were sure there'd be bruises tomorrow.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going.”

You recognize the voice immediately. After all, you’d just spent the last few minutes trying to figure out what it had been saying. You're pulled back up with such ferocity that you careen into Eren’s chest. Taking a moment to place your hand on him and stabilize yourself against your spinning head.

He still hadn't let go of your arm by the time you lifted your face up to meet his, turning bright red as you stuttered an apology. His clenched jaw and furrowed brow reminded you briefly of your father the night you'd moved out.

“Are you okay?” he asked, forcing his tone to be a little softer. You nodded, and he tipped his head back and shut his eyes. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he took a deep breath and swallowed, attempting to collect himself. It isn't until he was done that he let go of you, maneuvering himself around you to continue on his path.

You never did get that sandwich made for Sasha, but when she saw the defeated look on your face when you returned to the front, she'd immediately told you it was okay, she’d ask her parents anyway.

The rest of the shift drug by, and you were feeling rather disappointed with the fifty two dollars in tips floating around in your pocket as you headed for the doors that evening. You had only paused briefly behind the glass exit to brace yourself for the rain when you heard Eren call out for you.

Turning towards the sound, you watched him exit the kitchen and punch out, free of his apron and much cleaner than you'd seen him finish prior shifts.

“What’s up?” You hesitantly asked as he made his way over to you.

“Do you have some time to talk?” He asked. He still seemed wound tight, but not nearly as bad as earlier. Clocking out will do that for a man.

You blinked at him. Taking a second to consider. You absolutely did have some time to talk, but after the events of the day you'd planned on going home and taking a hot bath before Ellie’s mandatory pickup time from daycare.

And yet, as he looked down at you, you couldn't find it within yourself to tell him no.

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?” you ask, taking a step back from the door and turning to face him.

The faintest hint of a smirk played on his face. You swear you saw a little light return to his eyes before he corrected you:

“Not here, cornball. Come on-”

He stepped around you to hold the door open for you, and hesitantly, you stepped through into the pouring rain. Before you could protest, he had taken you by the wrist and began to drag you across the parking lot towards a white S.U.V; the same one you’d seen him getting into after your first shift. You would've fought him, protested, but an ocean of water was falling from the sky in buckets. The short trip from the front door of The Flying Plate to his car had the both of you miserably wet by the time he was unlocking it with his key fob. You both scrambled into the dry lifeboat that was the cab of his car with the urgency of a drowning man.

Eren let out an audible curse as he slammed the driver's side door just seconds after you had done the same with the passenger, throwing his head back momentarily as you desperately attempted to wipe away the excess water.

When you look back up again, he's staring at you. From this distance, and without the buzz of the restaurant, you can notice little things about him you didn't before. The little hairs that fall out of his bun at the nape of his neck (now plastered to his skin by the rain), the three small gold hoops that hung from his earlobes on either side, the way his lips look so goddamn soft-

And then, as if he could somehow be more attractive, for the very first time that day… he smiled. Genuinely smiled. That smile seamlessly transitioned into a laugh. Did his nose always crinkle like that when he laughed?

“What?!” You questioned, quickly mirroring him as his infectious giggle made its way into your soul.

“You look like a drowned rat-”

“Eren!” You began to scold him with a shocked smile as he laughed harder, but before you could continue he pulled the elastic out of his wet hair and shook his head violently back and forth, playfully flinging water all over you.

“Oh my god, you're a child-!” you whined, playfully shoving his shoulder “Did you bring me out here just to harass me?!”.

“No!” He replied, catching you by the wrist and flinging your own hand back at you before running a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. After collecting himself, he turned in his seat slightly to face more towards you. You mirrored him again.

“I brought you out here to call you out for sticking your nose in my business” he was still smiling, but now it was more tight lipped, his eyes swirling with a myriad of emotions, making them almost entirely unreadable.

Your face fell and turned brick red. He knew you had been eavesdropping.

“Eren-I,”

Shit shit shit shit shit-

“I swear I didn't mean- I mean I just, I was looking for you and I couldn't find you and I-”

Fuck.

Your brain was swirling at a million miles an hour. Mostly because you were mortified at having been caught, and partially because you had no explanation. Why had you done that?

“Hey,” he cut through your thoughts with a stray hand, reaching out to tuck a couple stray damp strands of your hair behind your ear. They must've come undone at some point during the day. You silently thanked god your blush could be explained by the embarrassment, because the way your skin buzzes at the feeling makes your heart jump through your throat.

“It's okay, I’m not upset with you” he withdrew his hand far too soon for your liking as he spoke “I’m just a little confused.”.

“What do you mean?” you asked, eyebrows raised in apprehension and voice thick with emotion.

“Well, you’ve been dodging me all week. I just don't understand why you want to know so much when you don't even seem interested in speaking to me.”

“Oh.”

You shift back in your seat and face forward again, looking down at your hands as you tried to conjure up a way to delicately approach the topic. You can feel his eyes boring into you as you struggled. What could you say? I think you only want me for my body and that's kind of fucked up but also wow you’re so beautiful and even if you did tell me you only wanted me for my body I would definitely let you hit but also that might get me fired?

There was no way you could spill your guts like that. That train of thought was never even on the rails in the first place.

After a gorged silence, Eren sucks a sharp breath through his nose and tries again, this time from a different angle.

“Okay, how about this: How much did you hear?”

You steal a glance at him before admitting:

“I couldn't really hear much.”

He hummed in understanding, and then tacked on a proposal “How about this? I'll tell you what I was bitching at Levi for and you tell me why you've been avoiding me.”.

You gave him a look to let him know there was not a snowball’s chance in hell-

He leaned across the center console and cupped his hand under your jaw, gently turning you to look at him and grazing his thumb back and forth across your cheek.

“No judgment, no anger, and nothing leaves this car. I promise. Everything stays between us.”

Hell seemed to be experiencing record low temperatures. All at once, the words start spewing from your mouth before you could even think about swallowing them.

“I think you want to have sex with me.”

He tenses as you speak, the small strokes he’d been swiping across your cheek ceasing immediately. He withdrew his hand, and silence settled across the car for a minute. The only sound was the rain splattering across the windows.

“I made you uncomfortable.” He concluded, but you were quick to correct.

“No! Not at all. I’m just not interested is all.”

He gave you a look that told you he knew you were a liar, and you clarified further:

“Don't get me wrong, you're very attractive. But I need this job, and we both know Levi would fire us.”

You were proud of yourself for being able to be so honest with a man you felt was entirely out of your league.

“So what you're saying is I’m a total fucking hunk and you can't control yourself when I’m around?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed; your reaction earned a chuckle out of him. A suggestive smirk signaled you that he knew he was correct. It all felt so intimate and comfortable. Where was the man that had snatched you up by the arm a few hours ago?

“Don't sprain your wrist jerking yourself off over there.”

Your sarcastic retort pulls another laugh from his chest.

“You didn't deny it-!”

“Shut up!” You playfully smack his bicep, trying not to marvel at how sculpted it was beneath your fingers for the brief moment before he swatted you away. A comfortable silence settled over the vehicle for what felt like several minutes.

“Your turn,” You finally prod him “Tell me why you've been an asshole today.”

He was quick to call you out.

“That was not the agreement, but lucky for you, the answer remains the same nonetheless.” He didn't even try to deny that he hadn't been exactly polite “The short answer is, I have to work this upcoming Saturday night.”.

You waited for him to elaborate, scanning his face and trying to get a read on him. His eyes had darkened again, a vast green sea experiencing rough waters at twilight. After a few seconds of silence, you prod yet again:

“And that’s an issue?”

He nods

“Because?”

A sigh. His gaze dropped down to where his hands were now white-knuckle gripping the bottom of his steering wheel despite the engine still being off. You got the feeling he was avoiding your gaze.

“I…” his voice sounded a little strained “I've been sober for about three years now. Used to have a real problem with booze.”.

He drew a deep breath before continuing, his hands loosening and his shoulders sulking for the first time that day as all the tension in him seemed to migrate out of his mouth.

“The best way to keep myself straight is by avoiding it at all costs, and on the weekend nights it's a big party. We have a few regulars who buy round after round for the staff, and Levi lets them because it's a great way to make money. They spend so fucking much paying for our drinks, and then come back and do it again next week because they like the way the hot college age waitresses flirt with them to get them to buy more.”

You're stunned, speechless for a moment. You can't imagine Levi being that lax about anything, much less letting his staff get drunk while handling hot plates and fry grease. But then you think back to the way the restaurant had grown and blossomed under his watchful eye, and figured it best not to question his methods. You tried to do the math in your head.

If each drink was roughly six dollars…and for argument's sake there were 12 people on staff… multiply that by one round per hour, being generous… plus those customers would be ordering for themselves as well…

“Please say something” the desperation in his voice snapped you back to reality.

“Sorry, I was trying to math that out in my head.” You explained, feeling a little guilty for not noticing how horrified his expression looked before you explained. A relieved chuckle escaped him.

“How much alcohol do we end up drinking or how much money do we end up making?” He asked “Because the answer to both of those is ‘a lot’.”

You shook your head wistfully, staring out of the windshield, a faint smile dancing on your lips.

“If it helps, I also work that night. I could be your accountabil-a-buddy.”

Immediately he tosses his head back, laughing so loud it causes you to jump in your seat.

“What?!” You question defensively, speaking over his roaring laughter “It could help!”.

“I’m sorry, I-” he interrupts himself with giggles, and deep breaths as he tries to stop “I just, I can't- Oh fuck, -”. He was absolutely wheezing-

He cleared his throat.

“You're telling me-”

He forces his face into a blank state, but his lips twitch with the urge to crack up again.

“-that not only have I been cock blocked by Levi-”

A snort. His disposition was contagious, you too were now biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“-but I've also somehow skipped the friend zone entirely and ended up in the accountabil-a-buddy zone?”

You tried to remain stoic, drawing the world's slowest breath through flared nostrils before answering:

“Yes.” You wanted it to sound confident, but it came out strained.

You both stared at each other, lips pursed tight and eyebrows doing their best to remain perfectly perfectly poised in their natural positions over widened sparkling eyes until you eventually cracked first with a snort.

At the sound, you both lose all composure, laughing so loud you fear it may shatter the glass of his windshield.

m a s t e r l i s t

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persephone11110 · 1 year

Text

A Little Reminder

Parental icemav x reader

Warnings: injuries, past child abuse, hurt/comfort, emotionally constipated reader, gunshot wound—mention of blood, anesthesia, medical inaccuracies, protective tom kazansky, protective pete mitchell

Summary: You didn’t understand why they loved you so much, why they love you like you were their child— as if you deserved to be loved by them.“Y/n we’ll keep reminding you until you get it through your thick stubborn skull”. Maverick shot a look at his husband.

reader goes by Y/n and Stone Peterson

* Im so sorry Idky this so long— I sincerely apologize, I let my inner child take over.

—

As Ice aged and spent years in the navy he gotten accustomed to death— everytime his husband almost lost his life up in the air. To when he himself almost died by the hands of lung cancer he knew death came for whoever and whenever— Its normal.

He knew death was a normal stage of life, but that doesn’t mean it stop him from being scared.

Yet being scared awake out of his slumber by his phone made a bile of fear rise in Ice’s throat. Being the COMPACFLT he also knew there’s a thing call emergencies but this time it felt different.

This time it felt like death was around the corner.

Waiting and watching.

Ice slowly moved his husbands arm off his chest as he rolled over to grab his phone off the nightstand.

Maverick a cuddle champion easily noticed his husband lack of touch even in his sleep and to say he was disturbed by it was the understatement of the century. “Ice?”, he groaned—“Why?”.

“Give me a minute” his voice was soft. He quickly ran his over his husband’s face.

It worked, Maverick calmed down easily— and he went back to sleep.

Who’s ever was on the otherside of the phone didn’t even give him a chance to talk.

Already jumping to the point.

“Hi i’m looking for a Tom Kazansky?”

There it was—the reason why his throat felt so clammy, why he already felt sick to his stomach.

People only typically call this time of day if something bad happened.

Death or someone who’s close to dying.

His face shifted from calm to a expression that was a mixture of horror and scared.

“What happened?” his hand shakes.

“Ice, are you okay?”. Even when asleep Maverick seemed to have his six.

“Ok, I’ll be there”. Dread filled Ice’s heart as he hung up the phone.

He’s already up and moving, slipping off his sleepwear and throwing on more appropriate clothes.

As the Iceman he was prepared but the man underneath the facade felt heartbroken.

“Honey, what happened?” Maverick already alert, he immediately started moving too.

Ice was still moving drowning out his husband’s voice. He needed to get to the hospital fast enough because If not—.

“Thomas Leonard Kazansky” Maverick said— and it seemed more like a command then a request.

He stopped dead in his tracks, he’s body still rattling with fear.

Mav could see the fear marking its territory onto his husband face. As his husband Pete knew Iceman was just a shield to keep everyone at arms length. Also to keep the pain bearable but he hated to admit seeing his normally calmed husband made his heart beat below a certain number.

“Stone…she was taken to the hospital—I’m listed as her emergency contact”. He explained resuming his fast pace of getting ready. “Mav… the woman on the phone said Stone went into cardiac arrest twice”.

“Her family—where are they?” Maverick felt like he already knew the answer— given how Ice is listed as her emergency contact.

“Foster care—I’ve only read some of her file but unfortunately she aged out” Ice replied his eyes watered.

Maverick simply nodded— he knew what it felt like to have no one want you— to feel unwanted and unworthy of love.

Unlike Maverick, Stone Peterson spent eighteen long years in that damn hellhole waiting and watching for anyone to adopt her. Stone gave up when she realized no wanted her— she stopped getting her hopes when couples or someone came to foster care.

Stone knew her time in foster care would just get longer, and her wishes for a family were long gone.

She doesn’t expect someone to care about her, but Ice and Maverick could easily prove Stone wrong if she let just them. Even when she threw coldness their way Ice and Maverick still stood there by her side because deep down they knew it was the mirror of young girl still stuck in survival mode.

A little girl who didn’t understand the meaning of love.

The drive to the hospital seems never ending— more cars in their way then usual, more stop lights.

Or maybe that just an anxious brain owned by Ice doing that.

Who knows?.

He sure as hell didn’t know either.

The walking towards the hospital was a blur of strangers also walking too, and ambulances loading people out of them.

He caught a glimpse of a sign reminding everyone this a level one trauma center— meaning anyone who was admitted had some type of serious or life threatening injury.

Ice was pretty sure his stomach just dropped to hell after reading the sign.

Why did Stone need such a high level of care?

The logical part of brain reminded him that this a hospital used for any medical problems, whether it’s small or big.

Often times fear overwhelmed logic–making it harder for Ice to think about the goodness of the situation.

When they approached the hospital doors they’d been met with the appearance of two police officers.

The first thing that caught Ice’s eye wasn’t their name tag, but a evidence bag that contained clothes covered in blood, a female’s watch.

Surely these weren’t Stone’s belongings?

Can’t be,couldn’t be.

Not until he saw the inside of the ring.

Y/n Grace Peterson— Stone’s initials.

Oh fuck.

“Officer Grant, Jones,Sir— we responded to a older woman’s robbery”

Both Ice and Maverick were visibly confused. The officers were quick to explain what they meant.

“A older woman was being robbed of her personal possessions—and Lieutenant Peterson stepped in— and the mugger shot her in the stomach as they fell down to the ground wresting for the gun.

And just like that the logical part of his brain suddenly vanished.

Ice didn’t trust his voice to say anything, he nodded instead.

Luckily his husband is was in sync with him like always.

“Thank you” Maverick said—shaking both their hands.

“Lieutenant Peterson things will be back after their processed through the system”

Maverick nodded his head at the officers as they walked away from them, leaving him and Ice alone in the waiting room.

Any words like cold-hearted and unempathetic couldn’t be used in same sentence as Stone.

He already knew Stone Peterson had a heart—she just had hard time showing other people.

She hated being vulnerable, weak.

That reminded Ice of himself.

A quick solution to all your problems. Something that’s either taught or learned when your a child.

He and Maverick sat down in the chair behind him.

“Why can’t people live in peace and harmony, is that too much to ask for?”. Maverick grabbed Ice’s hand—attempting to comfort him.

Ice’s jaw clenched in anger. “I don’t know Mav, I guess the world isn’t prepared for that”.

We’re there’s good— there’s evil.

He hated sitting here, doing nothing to help a pilot in need.

“You, Stone and the dagger squad are the good were as the mugger and people like him are the evil in the world”. Ice gave him a better answer.

Unfortunately the world needs both to ensure balance without one or the other world cannot thrive correctly.

Good and Evil go hand and hand together.

As much the older couple hated the situation, they both could easily see themselves doing the same thing.

Being in the navy whilst being a good person the hero switch is always on for everyone.

Its a sixth sense of danger—the needing to help others.

The shorter hand on the clock kept moving before Maverick and Ice got any news on Stone.

“Family of Lieutenant Peterson”

“Us” Ice answered, by definition there were Stone’s family whether she realized it or not.

“We managed to stop the bleeding and remove the bullet within one go— the damage of the bullet did quite a number on Peterson, but she should be fine”.

Ice felt the badgering pain of sorrow starting to leave his stomach once and for all. Maverick visibly sighed in relief— like always Ice was prepared for the doctor to tell them their were down a dagger, they’d lost their kid.

After hearing that Stone was safe and sound— Ice allowed his logical part of his brain to come back and take over for awhile. His fear had been gone.

“She’s okay Tom, she’s okay” Maverick repeated. He knew Ice needed to hear it again for him to be okay.

“Yeah” he muttered—shoving his face into Mav’s shoulder.

“Just breathe Tom”. Maverick whispered into his husband ear.

Part of Ice wants to know why she did it?,

Why she offered her life so easily at the expense of another?

These are the actions of someone who cares, someone who has a big heart.

Not someone who’s cold and indifferent to other’s pain.

She may act cold like him but she sure as hell has Maverick consistent urge to sneak out of an hospital. Ice has read her medical file before, always opting out for more care— resisting care, somehow knows how to badge medical care.

But Ice just needs to make one phone call to his assiant Warrant Officer Mccoy and she’ll clear both his and Maverick schedule. He wasn’t about to let Stone be alone after something so traumatic. She needed family by her side.

It was close to being 0900, where’s the damn surgeon at, a nurse?, it was too good to be true, something bad happened.

“Ice, stop thinking about the bad shit”— damn it Mav let me sulk for a little.

“Shut up Peter”— his legs had gotten tired from him sitting for so long…Ice solution was to pace until he collasped.

“Well Thomas, she’s probably get moved to another room, vital checks— double/triple checking everything”. Mav said lightly.

“So and maybe your right” Ice paused his pacing.

“Trust me I would know” Maverick smirked. “Come here frosty”, not giving him a chance to move again, Maverick pulled his husband into his chair.

Ice shot back a cup of shitty hospital coffee. He’s not young like he used be.

“Tom, it’s not vodka” Maverick shook his head at Ice.

“Mhm— but my imagination say otherwise”

A set of footsteps interrupted the two men.“Sirs— I can come back?”, the young male nurse getting ready to turn on his heel.

“Nope no need to- its fine” Maverick reassured him, throwing on a fake smile.

Ice was already on his feet, and so was Maverick.

Maverick thanked whoever for sending this nurse their way because his husband was starting to get antsy. Pretty sure If an another hour went by without news— Ice was gonna hulk out.

“I’m here to guide you too Lieutenant Peterson room”.

“Well were ready” Ice sighed lowly, and Maverick pinched his back.

“отвали” Ice said a little bit to loudly.

The nurse raised his eyebrows“Oh whats that mean?”.

Maverick smiled at the nurse“A sacred prayer made by his family”— Maverick elbowed him. “Right Tom?”.

“Yep”— totally a fucking lie.

It didn’t take long to find Stones room.

“I want to go home” you thought to yourself. “Maybe if I click my feet three times like fucking dorothy I might”. You eyes were close, giving there wasn’t nothing for you to look at. A four cornered hospital room isn’t were you thought you end your night with.

None of these paintings were soothing your nerves they actually made you more angrier than before. Were you getting or something because normally with injury like this you would’ve been able to go home and stitch yourself.

When did you faint?

Who called 911?

When are you going the fuck home.?

So many questions to ask, too bad no one here to answer them.

“Fuck you universe” that easily came from your mouth.

“Fuck you” you repeated again— it felt nice,but your anger still lingering.

“Callsign should’ve been sailor?” a familiar voice pulls you out of your cursing parade.

You blink your eyes slowly unable to catch a glimpse of who’s talking at first. When you do, funny enough your arm goes up in attempt to salute him.

An alarm starts beeping loudly.

“Ow”.

You tried moving farther from the annoying sound but somethint was holding you back from doing so.

“Hey, hey easy Y/n” Ice soothes you, stopping you from moving any further.

“I wanna go home” you whine. “Let me go home”.

Both Maverick and Ice sighed right as much as they hated it —they rather want your Stone persona to take over. Instead of doped up you.

You frowned slightly— why hasn’t Ice and Maverick signed you out yet?.

“Take me home—now?” you bit your lip in anger, you hated how childish you sounded right now.

You how young and vulnerable you sounded— something haven’t done in over a decade.

“Not right now sweetheart—your critically hurt” Ice tried explaining to you. “You need time to recover”.

“You’ve only been here about ten hours” Maverick said, while also untwisting your I.V bag.

“I’m fine” you argued, your Stone persona was coming back and taking over.“Just a little scratch”. You talked like nothing happened— like you weren’t in surgery for hours.

“This Y/n, this isn’t just a little scratch”. Ice said, and you could tell anger was scratching at the surface- he was itching to scream at you.

You scoffed. Your starting close to off again, going back to be Stone.

This is tough for Ice, one he wants to comfort you and bring you out your tough shell. On the other hand he wanted to reprimand you, demand why you put yourself in harm’s way.

He wasn’t backing down easily. “What the hell were you thinking Y/n—did you have a death wish?”.

“You could’ve died”. Ice tried emphasizing to you, he tried telling you– its just too foreign for you to understand.

“I wouldn’t turn back the clock,and change what I did— she didn’t deserve to die”.

“And you do?” Ice said to you.“Is your life worthless that you find it so easily to throw it away”. Ice continued. “Why, can you tell me why without using a lame excuse?”. Yours and Ice jaw clenched.

He was pissing you off— where did he get off interrogating you?

Who died and made him the fucking king?

“Ice I don’t—” Maverick tried stopping his husband angered induced rant.

“Oh, no need Maverick let the man speak his god damn mind”. You cut off without thinking about it. “Finish talking Admiral Kazanksy”.

This hurts you thought they loved you.

I guess not?

A crack of emotion came through, you look scared and sad.

Ice rolled his shoulders back and took a moment to calm down. He saw how terrified you looked, and it made him feel digusted with himself.

“Y/n, sweetheart thats not the point okay— we could’ve lost you, you could’ve died”. Ice softly explained to her this time. “You have people that care about you-we care about you so much”.

You pressed your hand over your eyes.

This was too much for you to handle.

“Y/n I think you need let stone take a break for a bit?” Maverick grabbed your hand gently. “I think she’s tired”.

“Yeah” you nodded. “I’m really tired”.

“We know and we’ll stay if you want us to?” Mav sat down on edge of bed. With Ice leaned against your railing.

“Stay”—you whispered,“Please”. you beg them.

“Of course sweetheart, we aren’t going anywhere for awhile”. Ice said holding your hand, with a small smile on his face. Maverick joined in alongside him.

“G’night” you whispered to them, before slumber took you peacefully.

They both kissed on your forehead, before letting sleep take them too.

#top gun maverick #top gun #tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #pete mitchell #pete mitchell x reader

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burstingdragons · 3 months

Text

Just Take It Off Already... (Ch5) — A Reborn Nightmare

This story can also be found over on FF.net & Archive of Our Own!

November 1st, X792

A disturbed noise woke him from his pleasant dreams. Believing its sound to have come from the angry thunderstorm outside the apartment, the pink-haired fire breather shrugged those minuscule concerns aside as he snuggled closer into his pillow. That had stayed the belief until he felt the soft structure, which his head had been resting against for the last few hours, suddenly quiver against his skull. Onyx eyes partially widened as Natsu caught sight of his best friend trembling. The dragon slayer was still relatively confused at the sudden situation, but something had become clear to him even in his drowsy state: for once Lucy wasn't trembling due to the cold but rather this time it was out of fear. She was having a nightmare.

The roaring thunder soon gave way to a soft hum and labored breaths as he turned his enhanced hearing to the woman that lay asleep next to him. Natsu's eyes locked onto the white object that obscured her face and in one fluid motion grabbed it as he tossed the still powered mask onto the floor. That device was just one of many of her little gadgets she'd recently started to use. It helped keep her skin pristine, he had been told by several of her friends, not that Natsu really understood in the first place why that was important.

"Lucy." He whispered softly. She had begun to slightly whimper now and unconsciously winced at his touch to her cheek. That action made Natsu more cautious as he quickly pulled his hand away and studied her more closely. He analyzed her sleeping dilemma as if he was in the process of searching for a weak spot when fighting a powerful opponent. "C'mon, Luce. Wake up already."

Her shaking had grown to more extreme levels and Natsu knew he had to wake her up. So, this nightmare could end. Preparing for a potential Lucy Kick to rock his world, the dragon slayer inched closer to breaking through into her own. He reached out to shake her shoulder before an intense light blinded him momentarily as he felt something snatch his right hand. That unexpected brilliance materialized into a full fledged person as both men stared at each other in surprise.

"Loke?"

"Oh good. It's just you." The leader of the Zodiac greeted as he lessened his tight grip around the pinkette's hand. After taking a few seconds to observe the circumstances, he nodded before releasing his friend entirely. "Sorry about that, Natsu."

"What are you doing here?" Natsu asked curiously, having forgot the Lion Spirit could come and go through their world whenever he pleased.

"Lucy's magic sent out a distress call." He openly stated. "After what went down with you guys just a few months ago with Zeref, I take these seriously. That's why I was prepared to throttle you." He chuckled at the end, amused by the glare being sent his way.

"I would have turned you into a beacon if you hit me with one of those light spells. I deal with them enough already from Sting." Natsu rolled his eyes. "I'd rather not become one of your new test subjects like I know you've been hoping for."

Loke's grin increased. "The offer is still there if you ever want to take part. Think about it, you could help Lucy..." Her name having left his lips, both spiky-haired men returned to the task at hand. "How do you suppose we wake her?"

"We could, you know, just wake her up." Natsu suggested. "That's how I normally do it."

"Normally?"

"Yeah, this one definitely seems to be worse than the other ones."

"Others?" Loke reiterated, his friendly nature disappearing. "Natsu… are you trying to say she's frequently been having nightmares?"

Natsu casually nodded. "Yep. Ever since the war ended. But to be fair, I think we all have been fighting our own demons in some way."

Whether that was an intentional pun or not, Loke did not care. Without warning, he grabbed the dragon slayer's arm and attempted to throw him against the wall. Only this time he was the one who went careening into a wall, which just so happened to be the side with his master's bookshelf.

"What's got you so worked up?" Natsu questioned as he sat back down on the bed and watched his friend wince in her sleep. He was debating on whether or not it would be more beneficial to wake her up now or allow her an attempt to fight the nightmare off. "You act like you didn't know about that?"

A muffled response came from the now destroyed bookshelf. The tuxedo-wearing Celestial Spirit emerged from the wreckage a few seconds later.

"That's because I didn't know this," he pointed at the sleeping blonde, "was happening. None of us knew. Not even the King mentioned it." Loke revealed genuinely. "I've felt slight traces of fear coming from her every now and then but it was never enough for me to notice anything unusual. Like you, I figured it was just some difficulty she was trying to overcome following the war. Sort of the stuff she faced after she broke Aquarius' key. I didn't want to intrude on her."

Loke sat down on the opposite side of the bed and observed Natsu's conflicted features. They both were walking along the same tight rope here. How were they supposed to wake Lucy without scaring the living daylights out of her?

"Luce has been keeping more to herself lately." Natsu's words barely made it to the Spirit's ears. "It's like she's been haunted by something since we took out Zeref."

"Haunted?" The man asked, a little surprised by the fact that's what this current nightmare could be about. Had Lucy done something during the war that she now regretted? "I mean that would make sense, but… haunted by what?"

"No clue. Maybe the present? Or maybe she's worried about the future."

"No, it can't be that. She has nothing to fear right now or coming up that any of us would know about. Natsu, I think it's the past."

"The past, what?"

"Just the past, man. Her nightmare must involve some former encounter. It just has too. Like a demon toying with her or something."

The golden intricacies at her feet captivated her as much as the next words that were spoken directly above.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The shadowy figure suggested. "One wrong move… and you might just go boom."

Chills went down her bruised spine. That threat was so familiar. That's because it had been spoken to her over a year ago by one of Tartaros' most nefarious demons. A murder who went by the name of Jackal. He had wiped out, at the time, the current standing members of the Magic Council and was someone Tartaros had sent out on a mission to kill the remaining former Council members. Their goal had been to wipe out the secret keys to a sinister device, one which was named Face. It was a magically constructed destruction bomb system ironically meant to eliminate all magic across Ishgar.

"You remember how this went, right?"

Lucy hesitantly looked up, well aware who would be gazing back at her. She was the reason this demon haunted her. She was the entire reason his plans had gone up in literal flames. She was the reason Natsu was still alive. But challenging fate wasn't all roses. After all, rewriting a demonic tome has its consequences.

"Or do I need to show you? Do I need to give you some inspiration for your next written tale?" The demon mocked. Instead of the spiky, blonde with sharp teeth taunting her… it was the man she had viewed as her best friend. It was Natsu.

"Stop." Lucy whimpered as she looked down at her charred brown boots. "Get out of my head. Get out of my life!"

"You don't want that, 'Luce.'" Etherious Natsu Dragneel chuckled thunderously. "You want me around. That's why you freed your little Natsu, right?"

Lucy trembled in place as she prepared for the sick show. Back during the beginning of the Tartaros war, Jackal had made her play a sick game by trapping her on one of his spell infused land mines. A golden ring that forced her to either move off it and take her own life or choose between snuffing the life of one innocent individual over another. A twisted game that haunted her for months had it not been for the pink-haired man who recovered just in time to save her. Unfortunately for Lucy, unlike reality, Natsu couldn't show up in her nightmares this time and save her.

"That's right." E.N.D. hummed like a crackling flame. "Your knight in shining armor can't protect you in here. This is what you get for tampering with my brother's black magic. For tampering with my revived life!" He snarled as those red eyes hardened and he jumped from the house's roof to face her head on. "For taking my future."

Lucy fell onto her knees as the two glowing spheres emerged from the river across from her. She knew what would be in them. He always played the same sick and twisted game. He had changed the original people Jackal toyed with. Michello and a horrified pregnant woman to something far worse in her eyes.

"No. You're wrong. You had no future. You were already dead!" Lucy shouted as she saw the partial images of her mother and father, Layla and Jude, in those golden bubbles. "I did nothing except be the one who made sure you remained dead, E.N.D!"

"You stole away a portion of the man you desire to one day be with." He teased as he approached her. In the blink of an eye he was towering over her fragile stature. "You unrightfully took away his memories, his power, and part of his very nature. That puny fire dragon is nothing more than a former shell of himself now. You, Lucy Heartfilia, did that to him. Not me."

"Natsu is Natsu. You are not him and he will never become what you were made to be. I stopped you. And this time, nobody has the power to bring you back."

For the first time in three weeks, that is how long this exact nightmare had been lasting, E.N.D's nightmarish ending differed. Instead of blowing up her parents and then blowing up her like it always went… Zeref's most vile creation slowly backed away. Lively red eyes shifted into an emptiness black as the raging crimson flames around them dispersed like a candle being blown out. Instead of a psychotic grin staring at her, all she saw was an expressionless face.

"Except you." The flame demon expressed. "My essence still exists until the day your life finally ends. Not even Natsu can prevent that."

Free from her demons, Lucy's eyes snapped open as she rose up, and on instinct, embraced a perplexed Natsu.

"Luce?"

"Sorry for worrying you two." Her speech was muffled by their closeness as she glanced gratefully at Loke. "I appreciate you for always being there for me."

"Of course!" Both men spoke in unison and smiled at the perfect timing. "It's kinda our thing, right? Gotta pick up where Natsu lacks at times." Loke added his own jab on the dragon slayer for good measure.

"Oh, real funny, buddy. How about you go back to the Spirit World and practice your laser spells on Capricorn?" Natsu jokingly fired back. But to his astonishment Loke actually considered it.

"Not a bad idea. Thanks, Natsu."

Engaged in their back and forth banter, Natsu was caught off guard when something wet began to stain the upper front portion of his vest. Right where Lucy had planted herself since she awakened. Water droplets were now leaking out of that still frightened face.

"Hey, why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry, I… I just…"

"Don't worry about it. I'm here for you. Always have and always will be. That's not gonna change. Ever."

Natsu had hoped his words would add some support, but it seemed to do the opposite. Instead of cheering up the woman like he'd aimed to do, his strong-will only worsened her condition. The fire mage frowned. For Loke, as much as it tore apart his own heart seeing the blonde woman sob uncontrollably and be comforted by a man that wasn't him, he was glad Natsu was there for her. It was there that he decided his owner was in good hands. Natsu could take care of the rest. The Zodiac leader shared one last thoughtful look with the dragon slayer before they both discreetly nodded. They'd keep an eye out for any future nightmares. With a bright flash, Loke was gone almost as fast as he had appeared.

With it now being just the two of them and alone, Natsu allowed his soft side to be displayed for what felt like the umpteenth time with his best friend. He carefully ran his hand down her back and through her hair as he tried his best to console her and erase those lingering worries that obviously plagued her. The slayer wasn't entirely sure what the nightmare had been about but if she was this clingy around him then it must have involved him in some way. It was a dead giveaway.

"Hey, Luce." Natsu whispered tenderly. "You okay?"

That lifeline-like grip tightened around him for just a brief moment before Lucy took a deep, shaky breath as she leaned back slightly. That position change allowed him to get a better look at her tear-stained face. Streaks of water were still present. "Yeah," she murmured, voice thick with emotion. "It was just a nightmare, Natsu. But I'm okay now."

He nodded more to himself really for reassurance as the concern in his eyes was unmistakable. "Want to talk about it?" Natsu wasn't to get to the bottom of whatever was haunting her, but he didn't want to pry. If she wanted to talk then great and if not, then he could wait a little bit longer.

Lucy sniffled before she wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. She felt slightly embarrassed at the situation but was grateful Natsu didn't seem to mind their close proximity. They had always been able to do stuff like this without making things awkward between them. It was like a special super power. One only they had. "It was just…" The blonde froze up as the memories resurfaced.

"You don't have to talk about it, Luce. I just wanted to try and–"

"It's okay. Maybe another day though, Natsu," Lucy interrupted softly with the hint of a smile playing on her lips. Despite the lingering sadness that remained in her eyes.

The blonde knew he meant well, but she wasn't ready to dive into the murky waters of her subconscious just yet. More specifically, she didn't want him to find out about the effects of what changing his fate had done to her. Not even Gray knew about that although on a couple occasions he had questioned her about various topics. She had an inkling he was in cahoots with Levy about finding out more about her condition. As much as that annoyed her, she knew they also meant well. A demonic tome had been rewritten and she lived to tell the tale. She was practically history now!

He nodded, sincereness reflecting from his gaze. He didn't push her further, instead choosing to wrap his arm around her shoulders in a comforting embrace as he pulled her in closer to him. A sigh escaped her at that action. The warmth of his body against hers made her feel safe. Made her feel protected.

"Alrighty, another day it is. But you better not make me wait too long. You know how short my patience can get." Natsu winked at his own expense in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Lucy giggled alongside him. "Oh trust me, I know how quick your fuse is 'great Fire Dragon King.'" A wistful smile formed on her features before it became determined. Then without warning something extraordinary happened. She inched forward and pecked him on the cheek!

"Thank you for always being... well you know, just yourself, Natsu."

His eyes went wide, that toothy smile frozen mid-laugh. Her gesture was so spontaneous, so out of the blue, it left him momentarily stunned. The warmth from her lips lingered on his cheek, and a spark of electricity shot through his body. It was nothing like the warmth of his own destructive flames or the formidable power of his dual-wielded lightning. It was a new sensation that swirled around inside him like the thunderstorm that was ongoing outside. One that he daresay he liked.

Having no idea how to respond to her sudden kiss, Natsu chose the oblivious route. It always helped him get out of a bind that he had no idea how to untangle himself from.

"You're welcome?"

NOTE: This chapter, as the title stated, was exclusively meant for Nalu Week 2024 with the basis being on the Day 5 Protective prompt. Appreciate everyone in The Nalu Archive community for doing this and it was fun to finally be a part of that after all these years of reading and writing with these two interactive characters.

Hopefully reading this was your worth time! See ya in the next chapter of either JTIOA or Dragon Rage! -(If you're interested you can read both of these on FF.net & AO3!) -Credits to @strangergraphics-archive for the line dividers! -Credits to @allaboutnalu @thenaluarchive for the community idea! -Written for one of my first readers @millennial-star-gazer!

#nalu week 2024 #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu

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