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voidlevy2 · 2 months ago

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bittersweet - joel miller

summary: you stumble into joel's life and he has no intentions of keeping you there. too bad you're just as stubborn as he is.

a/n: did someone order a whole novella of plot mixed with occasional banter ending with no relationship in sight but a new bond that will inevitably grow to be more? no? here it is anyways!

set before joel gets to boston but he's already been separated from tommy but who tf cares about canon tbh we're just having fun here. i started this when the show first began and as usual, abandoned it and as usual, came back with a fervor 2 years later. hope you all enjoy! i barely proofread this bc ive already read it so many times while writing and i physically cannot do it one more time rn so please let me know if there are any glaring mistakes

wc: 20k (officially my longest one shot! congrats joel)

warning(s): fem!reader (she is southern); decent age gap (joel is 40 and r is 27), half and half on fluff and angst; canon typical violence, some directed at reader; a lot of cursing; a lot of gun violence throughout most of the fic; numerous gunshot wounds; threats of sexual violence against reader but nothing ever happens! joel kills a lot of people (and is kinda mean for the first half of this); inaccurate medical stuff!! i did my research but am prob wrong on some stuff so pls dont flame me

both gifs bc i imagined both of them while writing and bc theyre both so hot jfc

You wish you weren’t so accustomed to waking up to gunshots.

You dart up from your bed immediately, the sound rattling around your brain as your weary mind tries to make sense of the situation. You have your pistol in your hand before you even fully realize it, your instincts honed even in your grogginess.

Screams accompany the gunfire and you push against the grimaces trying to fight their way to the surface. This isn’t the first time the compound you’ve stayed in has been taken over by force, but it’s the first time you’ve been this unprepared, and the first time you haven’t been on the ground floor for easy evacuation. No one is in your room trying to kill you—not yet, at least—and you have to take that blessing while you’ve got it.

You throw on your jacket and shove your feet into your boots, thankful you tucked your laces in months ago. You can handle the minor discomfort in exchange for the advantage. You throw what you can into your backpack, ensure your knife is secured in its sheath, and edge towards the door.

Normally, you share a room with Devon, but she went on a supply run alongside a few others a couple days ago—you regret not taking her offer to come along on account of your many patients, but you can’t waste what could become a very short life on regrets.

You open the door and peer out, trying to gauge your chances. The gunshots are getting closer and the screams are louder. If you weren’t on the top floor, you would have considered the window. But you have to get to the infirmary first, and you don’t really feel like breaking your legs.

Soon as there’s an opening, you run. Your most recent area of refuge is a run down high school, and you know it well after your months here. You practically throw yourself down a hallway to hide from a group of men coming up the stairs, and your heart threatens to beat out your chest.

Their rifles and shotguns are much bigger than the little handgun that you’ve carried state to state. You have to press your body against the wall to stop it from shaking, and grip your pistol so tight you feel the ridged handle indent into your palm.

“Go room by room!” one man at the front shouts. “Leave no survivors!”

Your only hope is to get out before they find you. The infirmary is in the old nurse’s office on the first floor—if they’re already up here gunning down the last of the compound, then you have little doubt that your patients are already dead. There’s no point in joining them out of some false sense of heroism.

There were no heroes anymore.

You back up slowly, making sure you stay flush against the wall while you keep an eye on the hallway. You think about slipping into the classroom you’re next to, but you decide against it. You can’t afford to get trapped.

You continue to stealth your way down the hallways, keeping your head on a swivel as you try and think through all your escape routes.

There’s another staircase on the other side of the top floor, but that might be too out in the open. A couple of stairwells are tucked behind unassuming doors, but that would leave you even more trapped if things went south. And of course, you can always throw yourself out a window and hope you don’t break your legs.

More gunshots, more screams—you hear the thumps of bodies falling to the floor and you have to steel yourself. It doesn’t matter that these people were your friends or acquaintances or anything close to it. They’re dead now, and you refuse to join them.

You turn the corner and immediately retract—a trio of armed men are going classroom by classroom, and you hardly stand a chance against one. Once you retrace your steps, you poke your head around the corner only to be greeted with the sight of more bandits. You press yourself against the wall, heart racing.

You’re stuck in this hallway, dead if they see you. Might as well make things a little worse and at least get yourself some cover if you’re trapped either way.

The ceiling is crumbling above you, has been falling apart for a few months. You pick up a piece of tile, take a deep breath, and throw it as hard as you can. Two of the trio go to check it out, and the third is focused on them to watch their backs. You dart out of your hallway and run as quick and quiet as you can, and you make it to the alcove leading into a classroom.

Twin classrooms actually, connected by a door in the middle, so you’re not completely stuck. You breathe out a sigh of relief, but it’s immediately short-lived when you hear the pump of a shotgun.

You whirl around to see the empty shell fall to the ground, your hands already flying up on instinct. You’re staring down the barrel of the gun, held by a man standing in the doorway between the two classrooms. He doesn’t look particularly nice, but he hasn’t shot you immediately, so you should learn to count your blessings.

“I’m a doctor!” you proclaim, your heart threatening to pound out of your chest at this point. You’ve learned it’s the best thing to lead with. “Don’t shoot, I—” you suck in air as fast as you can, but all this running with your life on the line is wearing on you— “I’m a doctor.”

Again, he doesn’t instantly kill you. He keeps his gun trained on you and takes a few steps closer, and you’re making much more eye contact with the barrel than him.

“A doctor?” he repeats skeptically. “You look a little young for that.”

“I was a surgical resident before the outbreak,” you lie. “I just have a young face.”

He lowers the gun just slightly, so it’s not aimed at your head anymore. “You’re a surgeon?”

“Yes,” you nod repeatedly. “They said to leave no survivors, but I— I can help any of your wounded. As much as you need, just— just please don’t kill me.”

The man stares at you and you tense every muscle in your body to not shift under his scrutiny. Eventually, he fully lowers his gun.

“Thank you,” you breathe. You feel like you could collapse from the relief, but it doesn’t last long as he moves in. Soon as he’s close enough, he slams your hand against the wall and your gun falls out of your limp grasp.

Your heart rate spikes as you flatten yourself against the wall in an effort to put space between the two of you, but it’s fruitless.

“If you’re fuckin’ lying,” he mutters, his hot breath hitting your face as his grip on your wrist tightens painfully, “you’ll end up like the rest of your people.”

“I’m not lying,” you enunciate stiffly, staring him right in the eye.

The man holds your gaze for another moment before he nods, seemingly satisfied. He lets go of you to pick up your gun from the ground and tuck it in his holster, and you stumble forward when he pushes you with the barrel.

“Get movin’, little lady,” he says. “I’ve got an awfully itchy trigger finger.”

You fight the urge to talk back. You’ve avoided getting shot for this long, and you don’t really fancy getting a shotgun to the face in such close quarters. You keep your hands up and start walking, hoping by pure will you can stop them from shaking.

You walk out of the classroom and through the hallways, and you’re able to catch glimpses of dead bodies as you go. You recognize far too many of them—those with their features still intact, at least.

These people welcomed you into their community with open arms, treated you like family even though they’d only known you for a few months. You knew anyone like that didn’t last very long, but you tried to ignore it.

You couldn’t think about that now, though. That was how the world worked—how it had worked for a long time now.

You stumble your way down the stairs and finally make it to the lobby. Even more bodies litter the first floor—you see Eleanor, the woman who brought you back here when she could have left you for dead; Delilah, who you worked with in the infirmary; Cade, who flirted with you too much for his own good but always managed to make you laugh—

Your focus is jarred from thoughts of your comrades survival to those of your own as the man pushes you hard with the barrel of his gun. You just barely manage to catch yourself with your hands as you fall to your knees. You look up to see yourself in the middle of a group of bloodstained bandits, and you clench your hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

“What part of ‘no survivors’ do you not understand, Jake?” one of them says. “We don’t need another mouth to feed because you want a plaything.”

Your skin crawls at the thought, but he just shakes his head with a grumble. “I’m not like Marshall. Didn’t kill her ‘cause she says she’s a doctor. She can get Becca and Joel back on their feet,” he looks pointedly at a woman, “can make sure Nadine’s still in working order.”

“How do you know she’s not lying?” the woman counters, and she squats down to look you in the eye. You meet her inquisitive gaze, refusing to look away—she breaks first, at least, and stands back up. “Could be tryin’ to save her own ass.”

“I’m not lying,” you grind out. “Wouldn’t do me any good to get shot at your camp instead of here, would it?”

“Watch your mouth,” she says, but she backs off anyways.

“Check her for weapons and tie her up,” another one says. “We’ll take her back once we’ve picked this place clean.”

Again, you swallow the words you want to say. You bite your tongue when you’re wrestled from the ground and searched for weapons. You don’t fight back as your hands are tied together behind your back, you don’t fight back when Jake prods you with his gun even as he follows you to the infirmary to get your medical bag, you don’t fight back against anything.

You’re a captive of the people that slaughtered your friends, only alive because of the overexaggerated skills you’ve used like a shield since the outbreak started. Your continued survival depends on helping people you might not even be able to save, and you doubt this group will want to listen to your medical explanations.

But you are alive. And that’s all you care about.

(You’re not breaking the one damn promise that still matters.)

It’s not a very fun ride back.

These people travel by horse and they don’t want you running off, so you have to sit in front of Jake, the man who spared your life who seems to be some kind of leader. He makes idle comments to pass the time, and it’s not as bad as it could be, but you dislike him anyway. He did help murder your whole community.

Sunrise comes around just as you make it to camp—you have to fight to stay awake on the ride, and when you jump down, you’re reminded that this slaughter happened in the middle of the night.

It doesn’t matter how tired you are, though, because your work starts almost immediately. You think about asking Jake for coffee as he leads you to your first patient, but you don’t think he would take too kindly to it.

He mentioned Becca when he was pleading your case, and she ends up being your first stop. She’s got a nasty gash on her leg that she got from hopping a barbed wire fence and it’s kept her off her feet since it happened.

You clean it out as best you can and stitch it up with what these people have on hand, which happens to be a needle and thread. At this point, you think you’ve done more stitches this way than the normal way. To her credit, she bears it well—better than Jake, who grumbles every time you ask him for the materials you need. It’s like he doesn’t even want you to help, which doesn’t really make sense when he’s standing there with his gun like he’s ready to shoot you at any moment.

Next is Nadine, and you’re accompanied by the woman who accused you of lying. They must be close, because she doesn’t leave her side during your entire checkup. Nadine has a broken arm that you can tell she hasn’t been resting properly, but at least there’s no swelling. They’ve already done a makeshift sling for her, so you just do a par for the course checkup then refashion her sling to be more effective. None of them appreciate you telling her she needs to rest, but you figured that would be the case. This doesn’t seem to be the happiest bunch of people.

Finally, you’re hauled off to your last patient, Joel. You’re exhausted from your sleepless night and walking on glass with every passing second, but he’s the last one. He can’t be too difficult to deal with.

You reach the final room and Jake pounds on the door.

“Joel!” he calls. “You decent?”

“Do you know what time it is?” a gruff voice responds, and you hold back a sigh. Is everyone here difficult?

Jake opens the door anyway and gestures for you to walk in. You do, and you see a man laying down in bed atop the sheets. His eyes are closed but he doesn’t even look peaceful—just annoyed.

You purse your lips. Everyone here is difficult.

“We got ourselves a doctor,” Jake says. “So stop complainin’ and let her look at you.”

“I don’t need a doctor,” he says.

“You got shot two days ago,” he retorts. “Only reason no one’s looked at it more is because no one thought you would make it through the night.”

“I’m fine.” He sits up with a groan characteristic of someone who is not fine, and he levels his gaze at you. “You’re wasting your time.”

“I’ve got nothing but time,” you say. “I don’t think he’s gonna let me leave until I look you over, so…”

Joel scoffs. “Don’t tell me you went and kidnapped a doctor.”

“We got lucky at the school,” Jake says.

He rolls his eyes. “I told you, I’m fine.”

You glance at your captor. “I don’t think we’re getting anywhere.”

“You better get somewhere,” Jake says.

“I might make better leeway without you standing over me,” you say.

He frowns. “You’re a prisoner. Can’t trust you alone.”

“I’ve gotten through the past two patients just fine.”

“I don’t need you jumpin’ out the window and running the first chance you get,” Jake says.

“Look,” you say, a muscle working in your jaw, “do you want your man to get through this or not? Because if you do, I need to work in silence, and it doesn’t seem like the two of you are very good at it together.”

He doesn’t budge, and you let out a loose breath. “You can wait outside, and if I do anything suspicious, feel free to shoot me. But at least give me the room.”

The approval of your own murder seems to satisfy him, however temporary, because after staring at you for another moment, he grunts. He goes over to the door, then lifts his gun and looks at you. “Remember, I’ve got an itchy trigger finger.”

He leaves the room to let the threat sit in the air, and you close your eyes and sigh deeply. You don’t know when, but you know you have to get out of here eventually.

“And just who the hell are you?”

You open your eyes to see Joel staring right at you, very unimpressed. He looks to be in his 40s, the greying in his scruffy hair and beard giving it away—if that didn’t do it, the hardened weariness in his eyes would.

Men like him tend to be the worst patients, at least in your limited experience. Something tells you Joel won’t be any different.

“A doctor,” you say. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You don’t look like a doctor,” he says.

You already hate this guy. “Sorry. I lost my white coat and stethoscope when people started eating each other.”

“I mean you look too young.”

“Well, you look too old to still be this annoying,” you retort. “Now tell me what’s wrong with you so we get over this quicker. ”

Joel grumbles and rolls his eyes, but he eventually answers you. “Got shot a couple days back.”

“There an exit wound?” you ask.

He nods.

“How much does it hurt?”

“Like hell.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You this short with all your doctors?”

He grunts, and you sigh as you kneel down next to him. “Alright. Show me.”

Joel stares at you for a moment before relenting. He shrugs off his jacket then pulls up the bottom of his shirt, revealing a shoddily bandaged wound on his lower chest.

You raise your eyebrows. “Who patched you up? And when?”

“Does it matter?” he asks.

“Yes, actually. Helps me know the likelihood of infection, and if there is one, how fucked you are.”

“Why do you need to know who did it?”

“Because it’s pretty shitty handiwork,” you say.

“Kept me alive,” Joel says. “Far as I’m concerned, that means it’s pretty good.”

You roll your eyes. “You tell yourself that when you’re dying of sepsis.”

“Not everyone has your luxuries, doc,” he responds dryly.

“I’d say you certainly have some luxuries,” you say. “Looks like this missed your major organs, for one. You’re extremely lucky.”

He huffs a mirthless laugh. “Wouldn’t really classify myself as lucky.”

“You should,” you say, glancing back up at him. “Takes an awful lot of it to get by these days.”

Joel remains silent. You sigh again and take it as your sign to start working.

You gingerly peel back the bandages, and to Joel’s credit, he only grimaces the smallest bit.

“No infection,” you murmur. “That’s good.”

“Guess it was patched up pretty well then,” he says.

You glance up at him. “You dressed it yourself, didn’t you?”

Joel shrugs. “Maybe.”

“You seem pretty normal for someone who got shot a few days ago,” you say.

“‘Cause it’s not the first time,” he says. “You tellin’ me you haven’t been shot?”

You shake your head. “Stabbed, sliced, scratched, bit, but never shot.”

His eyebrows rise. “You’ve been bit?”

“By people, not infected.” You chuckle. “The one thing I’ve managed to avoid, at least.”

He makes some noise of acknowledgement. “Things get crazy in that hospital of yours?”

You smile wryly. “Nothin’ crazier than I see out here everyday. And nothing worse than Outbreak Day.”

Joel goes quiet at that. You don’t know why you continue on as you clean out his wound, why you’re talking so much when you went through the last two patients in relative silence. Maybe it’s because Jake isn’t standing over your shoulder.

“I worked in a hospital in the middle of Boston,” you explain. “The city practically imploded when it all started—felt like we were the epicenter of it all. Patients turned their nurses, folks in the waiting room killed their families, and all the infected that managed to escape went on a rampage in the city.” You shake your head with a sigh. “Sometimes I still don’t know how I made it out alive.”

You feel Joel’s gaze on you for a long time after. You can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, so you busy yourself with dressing both sides of his wound now that you’ve cleaned it out. Eventually, though, he speaks.

“Boston’s a long way from Kansas,” he says. “How’d you end up here?”

You shake your head again as you finish taping the last piece of gauze across his exit wound. “Can’t reveal all my secrets day one.”

“Bold to think I care that much,” he says.

You frown. “You were the one that asked.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted when the door opens. Both of you look over to see Jake, looking unapologetic.

“I got bored,” he says, answering your unspoken question. “Can’t take this long to bandage someone up.”

You set down your nearly depleted roll of gauze. “I just finished, actually.”

“He gonna live?” Jake asks.

“Bullet went straight through and missed any vital organs or arteries, so he really avoided the worst of it,” you explain. “I cleaned it the best I could and covered it with gauze—I think it would do more harm than good to stitch it up. He should be okay, but someone should really monitor him for the next few days to make sure it stays that way. And if you have antibiotics, send ‘em his way. Better to be safe than sorry when it comes to infection.”

“Good,” he nods. “I think we have a couple—I’ll get ‘em to you.”

“Good,” you echo. “Then I think we’re done here.”

You stand up from the bed, thinking you’re finally in the clear, when he pulls out a pair of handcuffs. You’re about to question it when he opens them and clips one side around the radiator next to the door, then looks at you.

“We got one last order of business,” Jake says, and it clicks in your head.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you say incredulously.

“You said it yourself,” he says. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on him. Might as well be the one that treated him.”

“This is ridiculous,” you spit. “I did what you asked, and you treat me like— like a goddamn animal?”

“You’re a prisoner,” he says, like he has to remind you. “I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. You’ll run off the second you can.”

You grind your teeth together. “Can’t even put me in a cell like a dignified prisoner?”

“If Joel dies, it’s your head,” he says. “You should thank me. This gives you the best chance possible.”

You want to fight it, but you can’t. Not when he could put a bullet in your head with that shotgun he seems very fond of.

So you clench your jaw, swallow your pride, and let him handcuff you to a radiator that looks like it’s a decade older than you. This motel they’ve hitched up in really has all the luxuries.

“What if I do start dyin’ in the middle of the night,” Joel says dryly. “She can’t exactly work her magic with one hand.”

“I’m sure she can do plenty magic with one hand,” Jake chuckles, and your skin crawls as he looks you over. You clench your jaw so hard you think your teeth might crack.

“Real clever, jackass,” Joel intones.

Jake rolls his eyes. “Just walk your sorry ass across the room if you have to.”

“You really thought this out,” he says.

“Don’t make me regret makin’ her save your life,” Jake says, and he turns his attention back to you. “Don’t do—“

“Anything stupid,” you interrupt despite yourself. “Yeah, I know.”

You feel the pain before you even really see him pull the gun out, the glint of metal the only hint to the searing fire in your cheek. You fall to the ground, hissing as your free hand darts up to nurse the wound rather than try to catch yourself. The pain smarts both on your knees and your cheek, blood already spurting from the cut he opened up. Your vision swims in front of you.

“Watch your mouth, bitch,” he growls. “Remember why you’re here.”

You just grit your teeth as he holsters his pistol—no, your pistol, the bastard—riding through the wave of dizziness. You want to remind him you won’t be of much use if you’re fucking dead, but you don’t feel like earning yourself another badge of his approval. So you just nod in submissive acknowledgement, and he looks at Joel.

“Keep her in check, will you? I don’t feel like dealing with more of this bullshit in the morning.”

“Sure,” Joel says.

That seems to satisfy him, because Jake only gives you another dirty look before he leaves and kicks the door shut behind him.

Your eyes begin watering against your will, lesser pain than you’ve experienced in the past somehow managing to bring you down. You bite down hard on the inside of your lip as you shift to sit against the wall, hoping a different source of pain will force the blood trickling down your cheek into the background.

You can’t cry over something like this. Not in front of a man like Joel.

“I know you’re looking,” you say bitterly. “If you want to call me an idiot, just do it.”

“You’re an idiot,” he says. You don’t really know what you expect.

“It’s one hell of a group you’re running with.” You pull your hand away from your cheek, grimacing at the concerning amount of blood coating your fingers. Between this and the dull pain in your knees, you’re going to bruise something fierce.

Nothing like getting pistol whipped with your own gun by one of the hunters that slaughtered your community like sheep to make you feel at home.

“They’re the same as everyone else,” he says. “Don’t know how you’re still surprised after all these years.”

Your thoughts go back to the first group you had to leave. The first time you were forced to be terribly, horribly, woefully selfish, when you lost the only thing that mattered. You wonder if he thinks about you as much as you think about him.

Screams echo in your mind. You shut them out.

“...I’m not,” you say. “Just acknowledging.”

As silence consumes the air between you, you can’t help but pull your legs closer to yourself in an effort to be as small as possible. You’re intimately aware that you’re at Joel’s mercy, and you can only hope he’s not that sort of man. Jake’s comments don’t bring you much solace.

He must notice how tense you are, because he sighs and shakes his head. “Relax. Ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“Sorry if I don’t believe that,” you mutter.

Joel scoffs. “Don’t matter what you believe or not.”

“Well, I believe that I’m royally fucked,” you spit. “I’ve been here for five hours and I’m already bleedin’ and stuck in a room with you. Doesn’t fare well for my future.”

“How’d you even end up here?” Joel asks. “We ain’t exactly bringing in new folks.”

You huff. “You weren’t too far off with them kidnapping a doctor.”

He doesn’t seem fazed, and you think that should concern you. “What, they just wander into a hospital and pick you up?”

“They wandered into a high school and murdered my whole community,” you correct. “I’m only here because I pleaded my case before they could shoot me.”

“...Wound does feel better,” he says. “Least you kinda know what you’re doing.”

You glance away. “Bandaged more GSWs these past few years than I ever did in med school. I’m used to it by now.”

There’s another knock on the door and your whole body tenses. Joel calls out that it’s unlocked, and you’ve never been so grateful to see the woman from before. Nadine’s sister, you remember— Rachel. She breathed over your shoulder the entire time you fixed up her sister’s sling.

“You better?” she asks.

He nods. “Back on my feet, at least.”

“Good,” she says. She seems to notice you, bleeding and deflated and restrained, and looks back at Joel unfazed. “What’s the deal here?”

“Jake did it,” he says. “Wants to keep her in check.”

“Long as it means she’s not a problem, I couldn’t care less,” she admits. “But you gotta get your ass in gear, Joel. Community meeting in the lobby.”

“Y’all woke me up at four in the morning,” Joel complains. “Can’t let an old man sleep day after he gets shot?”

“You said it yourself; you’re back on your feet,” she says. “Better see you in five.”

She leaves and closes the door behind her, not even passing a second look at you. You felt less alone when you were moping your way through Missouri.

Joel heaves a sigh and stands up. He grabs his jacket from the bed and slips it back on, buttoning it up in the middle. You watch him go through the motions because you have nothing else to do, but you notice the roughness of his hands.

“You gonna do anything about those torn calluses?” you ask.

He glances at you with a frown. “Why’re you lookin’?”

“Got nothing else to do,” you say. “You don’t cover those up, they could lead to infection.”

“Sounds like everything can lead to infection,” he mocks.

“Kinda does,” you say. “‘Specially in this world.”

Joel huffs a laugh and he pulls a couple bandaids out of your medical bag, still sitting on his bed. “That good enough for you?”

“Don’t do it for me,” you say. “Do it for yourself.”

He grumbles as he tucks them into his pocket, and you continue to watch him as he gets ready. Ties up his boots, shoves knives into sheaths on each leg, fixes the watch on his wrist—

“Quit starin’ at me,” he mumbles.

“I told you,” you say. “Nothin’ else to do.”

“Look at the wall,” Joel says as he slings a rifle over his shoulder. “More interesting than me.”

“The wall doesn’t have your overwhelming charm,” you say.

He scoffs. “Can’t believe I’m stuck with you.”

You shrug. “Can always kill me yourself and be done with it.”

“Who’ll save me when I crash in the middle of the night?” he mocks.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” you say. “You patched yourself up, after all.”

Joel exhales a little harder than usual out of your nose, and you figure that’s what passes as a laugh around him. You take a strange amount of pride in it.

You think he’s about to leave, but instead he picks up your medical bag and slides it over to you.

“Patch yourself up for a change,” he says. “Don’t want you bleedin’ all over this expensive flooring while I’m gone.”

That gets the slightest laugh out of you as you pick it up. “Thanks.”

Joel grunts in acknowledgement, and he moves over to the door. You start unzipping the bag but have to pause, the sight of your blood all over your hand making you grimace. You’ve gotten some on your jeans unwittingly, and you can’t help but sigh. Sure, they’re already covered in dust and grime and blood from other people, but you didn’t want to add yours to the mix. Especially on your favorite pair of jeans.

Maybe you’d be able to scrounge a bottle of hydrogen peroxide up sometime. It’s the least this world could give you.

You look up to see Joel standing in the door frame, looking at you instead of leaving.

“You’re gonna be late,” you say. “Then we’ll both be on Jake’s shit list.”

Joel blinks. He looks like he wants to say something, but he just nods.

“See you ‘round,” he says.

“Not like I can go anywhere,” you say wryly.

You go back to rummaging through your bag, trying to find the gauze you haphazardly shoved back in. Joel’s still looking at you, and his gaze burns your skin. You hope if you ignore him, he’ll leave.

He does. He shuts the door behind him when he leaves, quieter and gentler than you expect.

You stare at your hands, one bloodstained and the other cuffed. You’ve taken care of your calluses better than Joel, at least.

The thought is warmer than it should be.

Makes you realize how cold the room feels.

Joel doesn’t come back for a while. Half the day, you think.

It’s difficult to keep track of time in here. With the door closed and the window shutters down, what little light streams through doesn’t give you much of an idea of the hour.

You also don’t really have much to do, which makes the time pass even slower.

You clean your cheek out the best you can and tape it shut with some small butterfly bandages. You hope that’ll make it heal quicker, or at least keep it protected from the elements. You can’t let it get infected after all you’ve spouted to Joel.

It still smarts, but you try your best to ignore it. Jake did a number on you, and with your own pistol at that.

He might have spared your life, but you’re killing him before you escape this place.

You try to sleep, but it doesn’t really work. You’re exhausted, plain and simple, but you think your body will have to give out for you to get some rest at this point. The position you’re stuck in is too damn uncomfortable for your brain to shut off, and every time you get close, you just see the bodies of your friends, see the same nightmares you’ve relived for a year and a half.

So instead, you decide to test your boundaries.

You’re handcuffed to one of the middle pipes, which goes all the way down to the ground and about a third of the way up the wall. You use your finger to measure and figure out you have around five inches of leeway with the chain. Not enough to do much of anything with, but still something.

Once you’re done with that, you just… look around. There isn’t much else to do, but this is Joel’s room. You were a psych minor before the world ended—maybe it’ll give you some insight into him, give you something to use. You’re not above manipulation if it means you can get someone on your side.

But frustratingly, there’s almost nothing. It’s not like you expect him to have a whole decorated room in the apocalypse, but he’s really giving you nothing here.

An open pack of bullets sits on his bedside table. His sheets are still a mess from his rude awakening because he didn’t bother to make his bed before he left. The extra unused pillows lay scattered on the ground,

So you can’t analyze him using his barebones room—you have nothing but time, so you think back to how he looked before he left and go from there.

Joel’s beard and facial hair were both relatively under control, so he’s someone who cares a decent amount about cleanliness and hygiene. He carries two knives and a rifle outwardly, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a handgun hiding somewhere or more weapons in his bag. He speaks with a Southern accent—stronger than yours, but you lost some of it while you were studying in Boston.

You used to not mind. People seemed to respect you more without it, seemed to take you more seriously, and that was all you wanted in med school. Now, it just feels like another part of yourself that you’ve lost. Like you can’t even call yourself an Okie anymore.

He looks to be in his forties, but you don’t remember a wedding ring. Whether he’s been a life-long bachelor or loved and lost and just chooses not to wear it, you don’t know. From what you’ve seen, all hardened survivor-like, it’s hard to imagine him with a wife and kids and a white picket fence life.

But what do you know? Anyone who’s still alive at this point has to have a hardened heart. There’s no other way to survive. There’s a reason you’re fucking handcuffed to a radiator.

Maybe before this all started, Joel was kinder. Softer. Maybe he did have a wife and kids, and he loved them more than anything. Maybe he actually smiled.

You shake your head. No use thinking of the past, and certainly no use judging him. You’ve changed too. Everyone has. And if he has a family that he lost, then you’ve got more in common than you think.

Maybe you can use that.

Joel is covered in blood when he eventually comes back into the room. He gives you half a glance before he pulls his pack and rifle off and sets them on the bed.

“Can’t believe you’re still here,” he says.

“Can’t exactly leave,” you respond. “How’re you all bloody after a meeting?”

“Went huntin’ after,” he says. “Things move quick here.”

“Well, how’d that go?”

“We ain’t gonna starve, so as good as it could be.” Joel passes another glance at you, this time a little longer. “Your cheek looks better.”

“Feels like shit,” you say. “How’s your chest?”

“Feels like shit,” he echoes. “But I’ll live.”

“None of that blood is yours, is it?”

“No.” He points his finger at you. “And you’re not doin’ another checkup, doc, so don’t even think about it.”

You smile sweetly and hold up your shackled wrist. “Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

Joel huffs. “Still can’t believe Jake did this. Like he’s tryin’ to punish me, sticking you with me.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I feel like they’re punishing me by sticking you with me too.”

“You can’t be stuck with me,” Joel says. “This is my room. You’re the intruder.”

“I’m real threatening, huh?” you mock. “So much so that I gotta be restrained.”

“Threatening, no. Annoying, yes.”

“You’re too kind,” you drawl. You watch him unpack some more, then you purse your lips. “Y’know, you really shouldn’t have gone hunting when you got shot a couple days ago.”

“Was only half a mile out.” Joel scoffs. “There you go provin’ my point.”

You hum. “Guess you really are stuck with me, then.”

“Lucky me,” he mutters.

Joel is in and out for the rest of the day, and even when he’s in you don’t really talk. When he comes back for the night he at least brings some stale bread and a small ration of meat for you—you and your growling stomach are appreciative, but it makes you feel like a prisoner even more than the handcuffs.

What’s worse is how annoyed he seems about it all. Like this was your choice—like you not only chose to throw in with these people, but you chose to stick yourself with him. You think about telling Joel that, but you decide against it.

Just because he said he wouldn’t hurt you doesn’t mean he won’t go back on his word. People tend to not really care about their word these days.

You try to make small talk, but he doesn’t give. Eventually, when he settles in for the night, you decide to try as well.

It’s even more uncomfortable than when you tried earlier. You lay down on the ground, you lean against the radiator, you settle against the wall— it doesn’t matter what position you try because they all cause some part of your body to start hurting within minutes.

You thought it would be easier, considering how many nights you’ve spent sleeping on hardwood floors and cold dirt, but it’s not. Blame it on your privilege from the bed in your previous compound or the unsettling nature of being stuck in a stranger’s room or the endless nightmares that follow you wherever you go—it doesn’t really matter.

A few pathetic hours of tossing and turning pass, and Joel ends up throwing a pillow and a blanket in your direction. When you thank him, he just grunts in response and goes back to sleep.

It makes it a little easier. Makes you feel a bit better about your forced company, at least.

Jake comes by in the morning to send Joel on his way for whatever task he has to do that day and pick you up. He unlocks your cuffs and takes you on the world’s shortest version of rounds. You look at Becca’s leg wound (no infection), ensure Nadine is resting her arm (she is), and by the time it’s Joel’s turn, he’s already out and about.

Turns out him lounging in bed was an oddity caused by being shot the day before, because you and Jake find him in the parking lot with a couple others getting ready to go out on a supply run.

“You know, you really should be resting,” you say as you walk up to him.

Joel scoffs when he sees you approaching and puts the last bullet into his rifle’s magazine. He’s got his sleeves rolled up, allowing you to see the slight ripple of his forearm muscles as he pushes the bolt back into place.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Certainly don’t need you followin’ me around.”

He grimaces a little when he stands up, and though he hides it well, you see his arm move for just a millisecond as he fights an instinct to press against his wound.

“Clearly,” you respond dryly. “Look, I know what I’m talking about.”

“You look like you learned medicine from watching Sesame Street.”

You scowl. “I know more than you ever will. Just like how I know that if you ain’t careful, you’re gonna ruin all my hard work.”

“I’m not gonna run a marathon, so stop bothering me, will ya?”

“I’m your doctor,” you say. “This isn’t bothering.”

“You’re not a doctor,” he says. “And you’re certainly not mine.”

“I am one, and certainly the closest thing you’ve got to one,” you huff. “You’re not dead, are you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Just keep your mouth shut. It’ll do you a lot more good around here than whatever the hell you’re doing.”

“If you just let me do my check up, I would be gone already,” you insist. “Instead, you’ve gotta be a stubborn asshole.”

Joel looks behind you at Jake. “You put her up to this?”

He shrugs. “None of us really want you to drop dead out there, I ‘spose.”

He groans and shakes his head—you’d think you were asking him to shoot his mother the way he’s protesting. But eventually, he sits back down and does a flourish with his hand.

“Make it quick,” he tells you.

“I’ll do it well,” you retort. “Pull your shirt up.”

Joel does, revealing the bottom half of his chest once again, and there’s a whistle behind you. You see Joel shoot an absolutely scathing look out of your peripherals, and you do your best to ignore it all.

The gauze is bloody, but it isn’t soaked through. You remove the dressings and redo them, glancing up on occasion to make sure you’re not hurting him. He doesn’t grimace or wince, but when he tenses every time your fingers brush against his bare skin.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I should’ve asked if I could touch you.”

“I don’t care,” he says, but you feel him shift anyways.

The rest of it goes by pretty quickly, since you did all the important work yesterday. Once you’re done, you zip your medical bag up and nod.

“You’re good to go,” you say. “Just keep it clean to avoid infection. And don’t get shot again.”

He snorts. “Don’t plan on it.”

Joel walks off to rejoin the other hunters, and you watch him go until Jake clears his throat behind you.

“Time for you to start payin’ your keep, little lady,” he says.

You hum. “So I don’t just get to stay handcuffed to a radiator all day?”

He pushes you with the barrel of his gun to get you moving, and you stumble into a walk. “I hope you’re better at maintenance than you are at jokes.”

You just sigh and bite your tongue. He sucks, but he’s not actively threatening you. Might be the least you can ask for, at this point.

Your keep, it turns out, is doing miscellaneous chores.

You do laundry. You clean rooms. You help reinforce the wall. Bits and ends of a lot of different odd jobs, but you honestly don’t mind. It’s better than sitting in Joel’s room, shackled to a radiator and going stir-crazy.

The one bad thing about leveraging your skills is that it makes you useful, and therefore, important. These people can’t risk you running out on them when there’s new injuries to deal with every day, so you’re constantly being watched.

Random survivors that run off are just freeing up space and food. Random doctors that run off are risking lives.

Jake tries to make conversation, and it’s painful, but you go along with it. You swear your cheek hurts every time you look at him—he doesn’t even apologize for it, even though he’s there in the background the entire day. You want to ask him if he has any other job than to stand around you and threaten you into submission with a shotgun, but you decide to keep your mouth shut.

Night is falling by the time you finish things up, and you sit on a milk crate in the parking lot with another stale piece of bread and half a can of beans as your dinner. Not the most glamorous, but enough to fill you up.

You’re beginning to think it’ll be an uneventful night when you hear yelling.

“Open the fucking gate, now!” It’s Joel’s voice, angry and frantic. “We’ve got wounded!”

You jump into action before you even really know what you’re doing and run to the wall, following two other men that were eating their own dinner in the parking lot. Jake is on your heels as the three of you push the dumpster working as the world’s worst gate out of the way.

“The fuck happened?” Jake yells.

“The fuck you think happened?” another one responds. “Runners and hunters and—”

“And Paul’s fuckin’ bleeding out,” a woman continues, out of breath as she runs in.

You look up to see Joel bringing him over in a fireman’s carry, and you meet each other’s eyes. You let out a deep breath and nod, then pull your jacket off and lay it on the ground. You snap your fingers at another one of the supply runners. “Gimme your jacket.”

He frowns and looks at Joel, and he narrows his eyes. “You fuckin’ deaf? Do what she says.”

He does, thankfully, and you put it down next to yours. “Put him down, Joel.”

Joel shifts him off his back slowly then squats down to get him on his feet. Paul’s knees buckle and Joel catches him, then lowers him to the ground.

“Go get my medical bag,” you say. “It’s in your room.”

He nods and runs off, and you look down at your patient. The top half of his shirt is completely soaked with blood, but you see it’s coming from his arm. You put as much pressure on the wound as you can, ignoring his groan of pain. At least that means he’s still alive. Unconscious, but alive.

You look at another one of the supply runners. “What the hell happened to him?”

“One o’ the hunters shot ‘em in the arm,” he says.

“And where the hell is Daniel?” Jake suddenly says. “And Lee?”

“What the hell do you think?” the woman spits. “They got bullets in the head before we even knew what was happening— runners had us distracted.”

“And you thought it was smart to lead ‘em right back here?” Jake asks incredulously.

“We already lost two,” she grits. “I wasn’t gonna lose a third.”

“God fucking damn it!” he yells, and he points at the men that helped you open the gate. “Close the damn wall off, get your damn guns, and shoot on fucking sight! You hear me?”

They nod and get to work, and Jake runs off just as Joel gets back. He has your bag in his hand and you look up at him.

“Get down here,” you say. “I need your help.”

He nods and kneels down beside you, setting your bag next to you.

“Put pressure on the wound,” you say. “I’m trying to stop the bleeding, but I think the bullet hit his ulnar artery. That’s why it’s gushin’ like hell.”

Again, Joel does what you ask without questioning you. You’re thankful that everyone is listening to you when you need it—you only hope he survives this so they give you a little more leeway in the future.

You rifle through your bag until you get your water and gauze. You push Joel’s hands out of the way and you hastily clean the wound, just enough to ensure any dirt and debris is gone. You start packing the bullet hole with gauze, again ignoring his groans as you push it in deep. You do the same to the exit wound so you don’t have to get your ungloved fingers all the way in his arm—thank god, because dealing with bullet fragments is a headache you don’t think you can handle right now.

You see Jake run past with a number of people behind him. You recognize some of them from the raid on your commune, and it makes you realize your patient wasn’t one of them.

They all have their guns drawn out of an abundance of caution, and you think it’s a bit ridiculous, but you keep your focus where it’s supposed to be. You get Joel to apply pressure again while you check Paul’s pulse, two fingers on his neck then his wrist. It’s weak, but it’s there, and right now that’s all you need.

You’re just about to let yourself take it down a notch when a bullet whizzes right past your ear and buries itself into the pavement.

Your scream gets stuck in your throat, and your hand flies up to your ear on instinct. You can’t even tell if you’re bleeding because there’s already so much on you. Guess it wasn’t ridiculous.

Joel instantly shoots up from your side, bloodied hands already pulling his rifle off his back. He’s fired before you know what’s happening, and you lunge back over to put pressure on the wound again.

A firefight erupts immediately. Jake and another woman are yelling orders, and you can’t see whoever is shooting at you all but your only thought is that of your patient.

You watch Joel take another shot, and then he looks over his shoulder at you.

“Get out of here!” he yells, fire burning in his eyes. You don’t need to be told twice.

You slip your arms underneath Paul’s shoulders and stand up, then you pull him up as much as you can. You start dragging him, a mixture of adrenaline and pure willpower getting you through it. You get to the infirmary, thankful you stopped by there earlier when Jake was putting you through the gauntlet of odd jobs, and you get him onto a bed.

You check his pulse once more—still there at a similar strength. His wound isn’t actively gushing blood anymore, and he’s regained some color in his face. Since it’s not worse, you collapse into a chair next to the bed.

Gunshots ring out in rapid succession, and each one makes you wince. You would join to help, but you don’t have your fucking gun. At least if Jake gets shot, you’ll be able to get it back.

You don’t think you have any friends here. But god, you really hope Joel makes it out unscathed.

You don’t get to relax for very long. Three more wounded get brought in over the course of twenty minutes, each facing death in different ways. When the second is carried in, you force the escort to run out and get your medical bag, then stay with you so you can delegate. You only have two hands and you can't do every goddamn thing at once.

One man dies almost immediately. He took a couple bullets to the chest and one hit an artery. He bleeds out before you can even start trying to pack one of his wounds. You can’t even take a moment of silence for him because your second patient starts crashing.

It all blends together, honestly. Reminds you of the times you were with the code team for a shift, when everything was a life or death situation and everything could go wrong at once. But there’s only so much you can do in a motel room without any hospital equipment.

You tie a tourniquet with pieces of your shirt and a stick from outside. You pack wounds once more. You drag chairs and pillows around to elevate limbs. You put pressure on the wounds until they stop bleeding. You get blood on every damn thing you touch because you haven’t been able to find latex gloves anywhere for the past two years.

There’s only so much you can do when you have so little.

Eventually, though, it settles down. The gunshots stop, the bleeding stops, and the pulses get stronger. Everyone that was alive stays alive over the next few hours, coming in and out of consciousness. It’s still quiet, though, because most of them immediately fall back asleep. Getting shot takes a lot out of you.

Your assistant leaves after the first hour when you assure him you can handle the rest. You wish the sinks worked so you could get all this fucking blood off your hands, but you wipe off what you can and deal with the rest. Your shirt’s already covered in it.

Maybe you’ll convince Jake to let you go on a supply run so you can stop by a lake or something. You don’t want to waste what little water you have on cleanliness, but you make a point not to touch your face more than you have to. The last thing you need is to get an infection because you got blood in your eye or something—you think that would be the stupidest way for you to die.

You’re rifling through the barebones medicine cabinet, trying to see what would help in case of an emergency, when you hear approaching footsteps. You turn around to see Joel, and you can’t help but smile.

“Joel,” you say, relief rampant in your voice, “you made it.”

“So did you,” he says. He doesn’t sound half as glad as you do, but you’ve learned over the past two days that he doesn’t tend to show emotions other than anger. “How are they?”

“One’s dead, three are alive,” you say with a gesture. “Dunno their names besides Paul, so I guess you can spread the word.”

Joel nods as he looks at each of them. Again, he hides his emotions well—if he feels a particular way about any of them, he doesn’t show it. Eventually, he looks back at you.

“How are you?” His eyes trail up and down your body. “Any of that blood yours?”

“Thankfully, no,” you say. “The worst is over. I found some antibiotics, so hopefully we’ll be able to avoid any infections. Barring those or any freak changes, the rest should make it.”

“Good,” he says.

“Any of that blood yours?” you ask, inclining your head. He already has a fair amount of dried blood on his jacket—comes with the territory of being Joel, you think—but there’s some fresh.

“No,” Joel says. “We got most of the hunters, but some ran off. Couple of us went after ‘em to finish the job.”

“Did you?”

“Yes,” he says. “Tracked ‘em to their camp and did what we had to do.”

You nod. Seems these people are pretty good at taking out other communes, Joel especially.

He probably wasn’t in the group that killed your people because of his gunshot. Had he been healthy, you bet he would have slaughtered them like all the rest.

But he didn’t. And he’s shown you more kindness in his own way than anyone else here has.

You realize hypotheticals don’t really matter to you as long as the bullet ends up in someone else’s head. You don’t really know what that says about you.

So you look back up at Joel and ask, “We safe for the night?”

“Yes.”

You nod again. “Okay.”

And that’s that.

You spend the next few days in the infirmary watching over your patients. Jake is in and out, mostly checking in during the day to ask about the injured and make sure you’re not about to run away. When he stays, he lets his shotgun rest against the wall rather than keeping it pointed at you. Maybe he trusts you more—you think it’s more likely he assumes you won’t run because you have critical patients.

He’s right. You don’t know them, and you only know Paul’s name, but you feel like you have to save them—have to save him.

Maybe it’s because this guy wasn’t part of the group that killed yours, maybe it’s because you think he’s your age, maybe it’s because he looks shockingly similar to Connor. But you feel a strange amount of obligation to this man to save his life.

Even if you were in here alone, you don’t think you would run. Guess the Hippocratic Oath stays with you even after the world has ended.

On the third night, Joel comes in. He has a bottle of water, your rations, and your jacket.

“You left it in the parking lot,” he says when he hands it to you. “I picked it up when we got back from the hunt.”

“...Thanks,” you say. You’ve been in these bloodstained clothes for way too long, but you don’t really have any changes. You were ripped out of your community as a prisoner, after all.

You pull your shirt off and slip into your flannel. Even though some of the blood soaked through to your skin, you already feel better. You’re doing up the buttons when you realize Joel has turned his head, making a point not to look at you.

“Uh, sorry,” you say. “I didn’t really think you’d care.”

“Figure at least one person here should respect your privacy,” Joel says.

You chuckle. It’s oddly touching from someone like him.

“Thanks.”

You hang your shirt on the back of your chair. It kinda is your only top, so you can’t just go throwing it away. You’ll get it clean eventually.

“The number’s down,” Joel says, looking at the beds. “Maya’s good?”

“I guess.” You still don’t know their names. “Bleedin’ stopped, and she was talking up a storm. Sutured her wound, gave her some pain meds, and sent her on her way.”

“Good. How’re the rest doing?”

“Okay,” you say. “I’m mostly just waiting until they’re consistently awake and making sure the wounds don’t get infected.”

“You talk an awful lot ‘bout infections.”

You shrug. “Out here, they’re usually a death sentence.”

“Noted,” he says wryly.

The two of you stand there for a while. The silence is awkward, but but you prefer that over the heaviness of the first night.

“Just make sure you get some sleep,” he finally says. “You won’t be much good if you’re fallin’ asleep when we need you.”

You chuckle. “Noted.”

Joel nods again and walks off. You sit back down in your uncomfortable chair, ready for another night of anxiety, when he stops in the doorframe and speaks up.

“I’m sorry ‘bout how you ended up here,” he says carefully, as if he’s unsure of his words. “But it’s probably a good thing someone like you is at this motel.”

You smile. You think this is the first time you’ve heard him be this genuine.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say. “You’re a stubborn jackass, but you don’t make for a bad roommate.”

That gets the smallest laugh out of him. “Night, doc.”

“Night, Joel,” you say softly.

Things change after that week.

Joel looks at you differently. Everyone does, honestly—no one thinks you’re lying anymore, thinks you’re some naive twenty-something. You can hold your own, and you’re not someone to mess with.

But not everything changes.

(“Are you fucking kidding me?” you protest when Jake takes you back into Joel’s room. “I save three of your men and you still don’t trust me?”

“I trust you to save my men, not stay put,” he says. Since you don’t offer your hand, he just grabs your arm, pulls you forward, and locks the cuff around your wrist. “And you’re more important than ever now, little lady.”

You lunge at him, but you come up just short when Jake steps out of your range. He tuts and shakes his head at you.

“No need for that,” he says. “I’d hate to ruin that pretty face all over again.”

“This really necessary?” Joel asks, a hard edge to his voice.

Jake shrugs. “Way you’ve been spendin’ time with her, figure you’d jump at the chance to have her to yourself. Just don’t break her.”

Joel clenches his jaw as Jake leaves, letting out a growl when the door shuts.

“Un-fuckin-believable,” you mutter. Now you’re sure you’re going to put a bullet in his head before you get out of here.

“Took the words outta my mouth,” he grumbles.

“You wanna shoot him for me?” you ask.

Joel shakes his head as he sits back down on his bed. “Not yet.”

You blink. “Not yet?”

He grunts. “Ain’t talking about this with you.”

So you don’t. You don’t say much because he doesn’t say much—after your conversation with Joel in the infirmary, you’re not too keen on annoying him.)

You’re good enough to save lives but still can’t be trusted on your own. Maybe it’s actually a smart move, because you spend every spare moment thinking about ways to escape and ways to put Jake six feet under.

You also can’t stop thinking about Joel’s words: not yet.

You might have found an ally in the most unexpected place.

Another week passes with more of the same.

You check on your patients who have all survived their wounds. They’re out of commission for another week at least, but they’re alive. You finally have a conversation with Paul and he’s so much like your brother you want to cry.

You do the chores asked and now expected of you, and though you mainly keep to yourself, you find a friend in a woman named Trish when you spend a few afternoons together sewing up holes in clothes.

Though you’re still not trusted alone and you don’t have your own room or the freedom to move around at night, you’re no longer expected to spend every moment inside the walls. You end up doing weekly supply runs with Joel and you don’t hate it as much as you thought you would.

They never let you take the horses out, and you still don’t get a fucking gun. Apparently, you’re still a flight risk.

They’re not wrong, but you wish they would fall for it. It would be so easy to run with a horse.

So instead you’re given a knife, and you and Joel have to set out on foot each time. Always you and Joel, because apparently you can’t get away from each other. Maybe they think he’ll kill you if you do try to run. Maybe they can see you’re starting to warm up to him.

You don’t know, and you don’t particularly care. Joel has made it clear he won’t hurt you if you don’t try to hurt him, so you feel safe hunting with him. Besides, he’s a killer shot and you’re great with a knife, so you make a good team either way. He even gives you his revolver to use on the road sometimes, though you always have to return it before you’re back at the motel.

But if Joel is looking at you differently because of a newfound respect, you’re looking at him differently because of newfound feelings.

He’s handsome, anyone can see that—gruff and grizzled and muscled from the life of a survivor. He has sharp, dark eyes that narrow at everything, so much so that you bet his crows feet are from years of distrust rather than years of laughter.

You never really paid attention to it at the beginning because you were terrified you were going to die. Anything you tried to figure out about him or his life was in the name of survival, was about pinning him down in order to manipulate him.

Joel is angry and impatient and mean, and he's probably killed a hundred different people in a hundred different ways in the name of survival—but since that night he visited you in the infirmary, you swear he’s softened around you.

Quite frankly, it’s ridiculous. He’s at least fifteen years your elder, this is the apocalypse, and you’re still in a camp full of enemies. You have no time to be making heart eyes at Joel.

So you don’t make heart eyes. Instead, you just stare at him like you normally do and tell him he’s crazy when he questions you about it.

But god, it isn’t easy. You spend more time with Joel than anyone else—you guess he’s your Jake-appointed chaperone now—and the second time you go out on a supply run with him, you run across a lake.

You convince him to stay for a bit so you can wash off, finally cracking when you swear to him you still have lingering blood on your hands from your night running the camp ER. You strip down to your undergarments with little care and dive in, and when you catch Joel looking you up and down in what he thinks is a covert way, you think your heart might burst.

It’s been a while since you’ve done… well, anything sex-wise. You doubt you will ever get there with Joel, mostly because you’re going to take these feelings to your early grave, but you’re allowing yourself to be delusional when absolutely everything else in your life sucks.

After all the shit you’ve been through, you think you deserve it.

You end up having to cut your luxury excursion short when you hear the distinct croaking of stalkers. Joel grumbles the whole time you’re getting dressed, saying you’re gonna be the death of him and this was stupid and he regrets ever saying yes to you, but he puts himself in front of you every time he thinks he sees one.

It’s the little things.

Two weeks later, on your fourth supply run, things go a little differently.

Everything close by has been picked clean either by Joel’s group or people traveling through the area, so Jake and Marcos, the group leaders, decide that you’re going to go out farther than usual in order to get more supplies. Even though you go out every week, and other people hunt when they can, but it’s not enough.

You’re fine with it and Joel grudgingly agrees to it, so after getting some extra rations and water just in case, you set out on your way.

You find an abandoned convenience store when you’re walking down the side of a road that still has some water, meds, and cigarettes behind a couple toppled over shelves. It’s better than nothing.

When you venture into the woods you find a house. Joel insists on going first in case anyone’s inside—he checks the bedroom and the kitchen and says they’re clear. When he’s going up the stairs with his gun drawn, you a few paces after him on the bottom step, you get grabbed from behind.

Your scream of surprise gets Joel’s attention immediately, and there’s a knife to your throat before you even know what’s happening. Joel has his gun trained on the head of whoever’s got you just as fast.

“Let her go,” he says.

“Not everyday I get a couple bargin’ into my house,” your captor says smoothly. He has one of your arms in an iron grip, and your other hand is an open palm to convince him you’re not a threat. “She’s too pretty for you, don’t you think?”

“Joel—”

“Let her go,” he growls.

“Y’all were gonna steal from me,” the man says. “Don’t see how we can walk out of here all friendly-like.”

He presses the blade into your throat just enough to draw a thin line of blood, and you clench your jaw so hard you think your teeth might crack. Joel meets your eyes, and they actually have something in them you haven’t seen before—fear.

“What d’you want?” Joel asks.

“I think you know what I want,” he says. His grip on you tightens and something inside of you snaps.

You stomp on his foot as hard as you can. He grunts, the action shocking him more than it hurts, but his grip loosens and that’s all you need. You move faster than him as you rip your knife from your belt and reel it backwards to stab him in the gut. You grab his wrist and wrench it to the side, giving you the space to turn away from him and kick him in the chest. He falls to the ground, you pull Joel’s revolver out, and you shoot him in the head.

Your breaths are coming out as pants by now, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you stare at his dead body. Pools of blood are already forming behind his head and gut, and you feel nothing but red-hot rage.

You’re so fucking sick of men thinking they can take whatever they want, thinking they have a right to whatever they want. You’re honestly glad this happened. It meant you got to put a bullet in his head.

Joel says your name and you realize it’s the third time. You can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I feel fine,” you say. This isn’t the first person you’ve killed, you want to tell him, far from it. This isn’t the first time you’ve killed to save your life, you want to tell him.

For some reason, the words don’t form.

“He tried to slit your throat,” he says. “You’re not fine.”

“Still standing, ain’t I?”

He says your name again, a bit stronger this time. “You’re bleeding. You need to sit down.”

“I’m—”

“If you say you’re fine again, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and get you out of here myself.”

You huff. “Now you know how I felt that first night.”

Joel shakes his head. “Always gotta be right, don’t you?”

“You know me,” you say faintly.

You do sit down, eventually, if only because Joel looks like he would absolutely make good on his promise. You sit on the third step and he goes one below you, and you pull your medical bag out of your pack.

“I can clean it out,” you say as you rifle through it for your gauze. “Your hands are probably dirty.”

“Y’know, I’m not a complete idiot,” Joel says. “Remember when you said my bandaging was good?”

“I said it was passable,” you correct.

“‘Good enough to keep you alive’, I recall.”

“And you think I want good enough?”

You finally get to your gauze—you swear, it falls to the bottom every time—when Joel puts his hand on your wrist. It’s gentler than you expect, even with the calluses.

“Let me do it,” he insists. “Need to feel fuckin’ useful somehow.”

You stare at him, hoping your pupils aren’t dilated or something else just as stupid to reveal that your heart is beating out of your chest.

“That’s what this is about?” you whisper.

Joel clenches his jaw and glances away. “He could have killed you and I just stood there.”

“You didn’t have a clear shot,” you say.

“I should have made one,” he says. “Out here, we’re a team. Partners. You don’t let your partner get grabbed.”

“We had no idea he was here.”

“I should have known,” Joel says roughly. “I shoulda known and I shoulda stopped him and you wouldn’t have had to kill him.”

You cover his hand with yours before you can doubt yourself, and Joel looks back at you, surprised. He doesn’t pull away.

“It was a mistake, and we got out of it,” you say. “If we’re partners, then you can’t put all the weight on your shoulders and none on mine. I held my own, didn’t I?”

Joel doesn’t respond, and you sigh.

“If they keep sendin’ us out on these things, then you’ll save my ass so many more times,” you continue. “And I’ll save yours, and we’ll joke about it when we get back to that shitty motel and Jake locks me to the radiator for the hundredth time.”

“So it don’t matter that I pulled more weight this time,” you say. “Because it’s a whole lotta push and pull—you just can’t pull away from me because of this.”

“Clever,” he says wryly. “You sure you’re not a writer?”

You manage a smile. “Not even close. Are we good?”

Joel pauses for a moment, his gaze falling down to your hand on his. He clears his throat and pulls away, then holds his hand out. You huff a laugh and give him the gauze.

“We’re good,” he nods.

You sit together in silence as Joel cleans the blood off your neck, only interrupted by your occasional wince. He’s surprisingly gentle with you in a way that you never would have expected, never touching you more than he has to. Your skin burns wherever he does, and it takes everything in you to keep your breathing steady. You don’t want him to know, and you don’t want to mess up his work.

Joel finishes soon enough, and after a quick investigation in a broken bathroom mirror, you approve. You take what’s left from the house in supplies and then you get out. It takes a little longer because Joel refuses to leave your side—”what if a clicker bursts in through that broken window? You’d be dead like that.”—but you don’t argue. You think it’s sweet, actually, but you don’t tell him that.

When Joel insists on heading back early, you don’t fight him. When you insist you want to keep his knife back at the motel, even if it has to be a secret, he doesn’t fight you.

You don’t talk much on the walk back, but things are different. The air is lighter between you two. Joel doesn’t frown at everything. He actually manages to joke around with you.

Things are different.

You’re finding out that you don’t really mind.

You go even farther on your next supply run. The area isn’t as scarce as it could be, but Marcos insists on stocking up before summer, when it’s too hot to constantly venture out like this with little water.

Things are going pretty well, all things considered. You run into a decent amount of clickers over the miles that you’re able to take down with you distracting and Joel stabbing each time. You don’t run into any people, though Joel keeps his head on a swivel.

Eventually, though, it starts to rain. Clear skies shine above you, but you still get drenched within a couple miserable minutes.

“Where the hell did this come from?” you complain.

Joel takes a cloth out of his pocket and wipes down his gun. “They not teach the water cycle in schools?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You scowl at the sky. “Was ‘sposed to be clear skies all day.”

“We’ll just call it short,” he says. “Go back to the motel.”

“We’re five miles out,” you say. The rain starts coming down harder and you curse. “We’re not making it back without getting soaked.”

“You can’t handle a little water?” Joel asks.

“I’m already miserable enough being around you,” you say. “Don’t need to add trench foot to the equation.”

He shakes his head with a huff. “Fine. I remember a cave a while back— you have another mile in you?”

“As a matter of fact, I did cross country in high school,” you say. “Also walked a whole lot when I was getting away from the coast.”

“Always gotta one up me, huh?”

You smile. “Always.”

It ends up being a little more than two miles, but you and Joel make quick work of it. Soon enough, after you’ve checked for any infected, you’re sitting in a little grotto waiting out the rain.

You’ve both taken your top layers off to let them dry, alongside your boots and socks. It feels a bit strange, a bit too familiar, to be doing all this with Joel—but like you said, you’re not too fond of trench foot, so you deal with it.

You sit near the opening of the cave, entranced by the downpour. The tension in your shoulders has slowly dissipated as you’ve watched the storm. There’s something calming about the sight, the sound— the way the world feels once it’s over.

“You shouldn’t be so close to the outside,” Joel says. Miraculously, the tension comes back.

“It’s fine,” you say.

“Ain’t so fine when everyone can see you,” he says. “Ain’t so fine when a passing hunter doesn’t like how you look and puts a bullet between your eyes.”

You sigh as you adjust your position to look over at him. He’s taken to sharpening a stick with one of his knives. “You always this positive?”

“I’m realistic,” he says. “How do you think I’ve survived so long?”

“Well, I’ve survived too,” you say. “And I’m not half the miserable bastard you are.”

“You’re half my age,” Joel says. “Give it time.”

You shake your head with a huff. “Got a bright future ahead of me, then.”

“I’m alive,” he says. “That’s as bright as it can be these days.”

“That’s so sad,” you murmur, your gaze turning back to the rainfall.

You hear him stop with his knife. “What’d you say?”

You know he heard you. Probably just trying to give you a chance to take it back, but you don’t care. “I said it’s sad.”

“Don’t see how it can be sad,” Joel says. “Survivin’s all anyone wants out here.”

“Maybe on a base level, but I—” you pause and shake your head again, trying to collect your thoughts. “I got a life I’m trying to build. Things I’m chasin’— things that make this all worth it.”

“Like I said, you’re half my age.” The joking lilt he’s had fades, and you know you’ve struck a nerve. “Everything you’re trying to get, I’ve already lost.”

“Joel,” you attempt, but he shakes his head.

“I built a life and I lost it,” he says. “I’ve trusted people and I’ve paid for it. So don’t act like I’m doin’ all this for no reason.”

“Then tell me,” you say, bolstered by his tone. “Tell me what you’ve gone through, what justifies this, so we can move past this— this barrier you’ve put between us, and actually get to know each other.”

“I don’t have to tell you shit,” he grumbles.

“Fine,” you say. “Then I’ll go.”

By this point, you’ve shifted your position completely to face him. Joel still won’t look at you, but he’s gone back to sharpening that damn stick.

“I’m not actually a doctor.”

Sure enough, that gets his attention. He stops so abruptly that you think he might slice his fingertip off. He doesn’t, but he looks at you incredulously.

“What?”

“I’m not a doctor,” you repeat. “Or a surgeon, really.”

He frowns. “Then how do you know how to do all this shit?”

“I was studying to be one,” you say. “But I still had a pretty long way to go.”

Joel glares at you. “How long?”

“I was in my third year of med school when the outbreak started,” you say. “Got to be MS3 for all of two months before everything went to shit.”

“You didn’t even graduate?” he marvels.

You shrug. “I passed my boards. Well, Step 1, at least. The world ended before I got to the others—”

“Oh my god,” he mutters.

“I was still a student doctor,” you assert. “I know plenty—”

“Not enough,” he interrupts.

“Enough to keep my patients and myself alive,” you remark. “And more than enough to stitch up your sorry ass.” You gesture at him. “How’s that gunshot feel?”

Joel just scoffs and shakes his head. He doesn’t look mad, like you thought he would be—just looks shocked, surprised, annoyed. Maybe angry just for the hell of it.

“Why are you tellin’ me the truth now?” he asks. “No one else is around. I could kill you right now for bein’ a liar—tell the group clickers got to you.”

“A liar with medical experience is better than nothing,” you say. “From what I’ve seen over the years, folks aren’t too keen on killing people like me. ‘Specially after I saved their people.”

“Besides,” you incline your head, “I don’t think you have the guts. Not after last week.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Joel says. “I’ve killed plenty of people less annoying than you.”

“Well, I don’t go down without a fight,” you say. “And I’m very good at stayin’ awake. So if you decide to go for it, you can’t take the easy way out.”

He scoffs, but you notice it doesn’t have the malice you’d expect behind it.

You should be wary. You’re alone together in the middle of nowhere, miles from your group—and they wouldn’t save you if it came down to it. For God’s sake, Joel has a knife in his hand. He could take you down easily enough if he wanted to. Weren’t you terrified of that when you were first stuck in his room a few months ago?

But you’re not. You can’t deny that you like him anymore, and that could be clouding your judgment, but you’re not scared of him. Not since that night in the infirmary.

You go back to watching the rain, making a point to have your back to Joel as you do. Maybe as a sign of trust, maybe to show you’re not scared of him—you don’t really know. But nothing happens. He doesn’t stab you in the back, literally or figuratively.

And eventually, he speaks up.

“I’m from Texas.”

You laugh wryly. “I tell you I’ve been lyin’ to everyone this whole time and you tell me you’re a Texan.”

“It’s somethin’,” he says. “Ain’t that what you wanted?”

You turn around and raise your eyebrows. “Where in Texas?”

“Grew up in Arlington,” he says. “Was in Austin ‘fore everything went to shit.”

You nod. “That makes sense. The accent and the attitude and everything else.”

Joel snorts. “‘Everything else’?”

“The way you carry yourself,” you say. “How stubborn you are. Classic ‘Don’t mess with Texas’. You ever have a bumper sticker like that?”

That gets an actual laugh out of him. A genuine laugh, a genuine smile. “Hell no. I didn’t need to showboat like that. Sarah woulda never—”

He stops suddenly, his smile fading just as quickly as it appeared. You feel the moment slipping out of your grasp quicker than you can run after it, and you feel a little desperate.

“Who’s Sarah?”

Joel shakes his head. “No one you need to know about.”

Just like that, the moment is gone and the barrier is back up. You try to hide the disappointment you feel. When Joel’s not being a jackass, you really enjoy talking with him.

“...Okay,” you say. You’ve already pushed him once. You don’t want to push him again on something that brings out that sort of reaction.

Joel goes back to sharpening the stick. It’s half the size it was before, but he doesn’t let that stop him. He’s got a couple to keep him busy.

You go back to watching the rain. The downpour continues, and eventually, you hear the crackling of thunder in the distance.

“Great,” you murmur.

“You see any flashes?” Joel asks.

“No lightning,” you say. “Least it ain’t close.”

“That means we can still get out of here tonight.”

You shake your head. “No way I’m doin’ seven miles in a thunderstorm.”

“We went five miles out,” Joel reminds you.

“And then went two miles off course to get here,” you say. “It’s already getting dark, and these woods have infected. You really wanna go through all that just to get back to that shitty motel?”

“They got food there,” he says. “We have nothing.”

“We’ll be fine for a night,” you say. “It’s not like we’re in danger of freezing. We can sleep in shifts so nothing can sneak up on us. We’re tucked away pretty well, anyways.”

Joel stares at you for a good, long second. You can tell he wants to fight—he always want to fight, you’ve learned—but eventually he lets out a sigh and makes a flippant gesture.

“Fine,” he concedes. “But we’re leavin’ at first light, rain or not.”

“Fine,” you echo.

You’re able to relax a little after that, knowing Joel’s not going to make you hike back to camp in these conditions.

The rain doesn’t ease up, but as night falls, your anxiety gets the best of you and you end up sitting against the wall, across from Joel. You have a sad little dinner together, the usual of stale bread and meat from whatever animal was hunted that week.

Soon enough, it’s pitch black outside and you only have the rain and the crickets for company. Better than rain and clickers, you suppose.

You wish you had a book, or a ball of yarn and some needles, or literally anything to give you something to do other than stare at a cave wall. Joel isn’t much of a talker, even now.

“I’m from Oklahoma, you know.” You decide to fill in the blanks, unable to take the silence much longer even with the rainstorm. “So we’re two southerners in a pod.”

“Knew you had some kinda accent,” Joel says. “Just couldn’t place it.”

“It faded while I was in Boston for med school,” you explain. “I wanted to get out as soon as possible.”

“How’s it feel, being back in the middle o’ nowhere after spending all your time in the city?”

You chuckle and look over at him. “You’re not gonna believe it, but I grew up in the middle of nowhere. Born and raised on a cattle ranch in Beaver.”

“No shit,” Joel says incredulously, and he actually smiles. “No shit you’re a farm girl.”

“Don’t act so surprised!” you exclaim. “I’ve more than held my own out here!”

“Thought you were some big city hotshot doctor when I first met you,” he says, shaking his head. “Turns out you’re just a farm girl med student.”

“Well, you’re just a jackass from Texas,” you retort.

“And you’re a jackass from Oklahoma,” he says. “Guess we ain’t so different after all.”

You laugh and look away, unable to bite back a smile of your own. “Whatever.”

That lightness from your walk the past week returns, and you and Joel spend the next few hours just… talking. You do most of it, because getting Joel to talk about his past is like pulling teeth, but you don’t mind.

You tell him stories from your childhood, what it was like growing up as a rancher’s daughter. How you spent your whole life trying to claw out your roots and how, now that it’s gone, it’s the only thing you want. What undergrad was like, what med school was like, how you spent just as many nights blacked out from alcohol as you did studying until your eyes bled.

Joel contributes in smaller places, like telling you what he was like as a kid or relaying his own high school stories, because he didn’t go to college. Tells you about his work as a carpenter. You find it hard to imagine a younger Joel when it’s near impossible to look in his eyes and see something other than the world-weary, grizzled survivor he is now, but with his words you’re able to piece it together. It helps that his voice is so nice to listen to when he’s not yelling.

You want to ask him about Sarah, but you don’t. Things are going so well that you’d be an idiot to ruin it. You hope he trusts you enough one day to tell you.

In the middle of it all, you realize the way you’re thinking: into the future, long-term future, with Joel a part of it. Your plan from the start has been to bide your time until you can gather enough supplies to run, get your pistol back from Jake and use it to put a bullet in his head, then get the fuck out of here.

But now you can’t stop thinking about Joel, and you realize you want to keep him in your life. You don’t want to stay here, but you don’t want to leave him. You don’t care if he doesn’t like you the way you do, you don’t care if he doesn’t even want to be your friend—you’re just tired of running from everything and defending yourself with lies. You’re tired of being alone.

Eventually, you can’t fight your yawns anymore. Joel tells you he’ll take first watch and you can already tell he’ll refute any arguments. You put your jacket and shoes back on and make sure Joel’s revolver is in grabbing distance, then you lay down using your pack as a pillow.

“Y’know, this is the first time we’re sleepin’ in the same room without a radiator.”

Joel huffs. “Yeah. You get through the night without runnin’, maybe I can threaten Jake into getting you your own room.”

“I dunno.” Your eyes are closed at this point, the mixture of Joel’s timbre at a softer volume and the downpour all around you almost lulling you to sleep. “I kinda like being in the same room as you.” You smile. “We can ditch the cuffs, though.”

Joel is silent for a while. If your brain were sharper, if you weren’t nearly asleep, you might’ve had the sense to worry or be ashamed. You’re sure you’ll regret it in the morning.

“Get some rest,” he finally says. “You need it.”

“Night, Joel,” you murmur. “Wake me up in a couple hours or I’ll kill you.”

He laughs quietly. “Night, doc.”

You dream of your old life. Early mornings on the ranch. Fighting with your brother to get the better chores and swearing you’ll never talk to him again when he gets the ones you want, just to end up racing him to the boundaries of the farm and back to settle disputes as usual. Waking up in the middle of the night to make your favorite dessert for the two of you, homegrown strawberries with whipped cream.

You dream of the day everything fell apart. Screaming in the hospital and your coworkers being killed and sights so brutal in the streets of Boston that you will never, ever forget them. Connor forces you to keep running through it all, tells you that you can’t stop to save anyone because you’ll die too, and he is not going to let you die. He swears he won’t leave you.

You dream of the night you saw him for the last time. Having no choice but to break the one promise your mom forced you two to make before she died in your arms, and making another one that you refuse to break for anything. The last time you saw Connor, a night that you’ve relived a million times where you’ve failed to change the story each and every time.

You wonder what he would think about the kind of person you’ve become.

It’s light outside when you finally wake up. You expect your back to be killing you, but after sleeping against a wall, floor, and radiator for most of the past few months, this was actually kind of comfortable.

You rub the grogginess out of your eyes and realize there are dried tears on your cheeks. You hope to god you didn’t actually cry in your sleep over some nightmares—you don’t need Joel to see something like that.

When you sit up, you see Joel cleaning his rifle.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he says wryly.

“Mornin’,” you say, interrupted by a yawn. You have to shield your eyes from the sun, and you’re about to ask him how he’s doing when it hits you.

“Oh my god— what time is it?”

Joel says nothing, just focuses on wiping out the barrel.

You push his shoulder. “Why didn’t you wake me up, you jackass?”

“You needed your sleep,” he says simply.

“Like you don’t?” you retort. “You’re twice my age, old man. You need it more than I do.”

“I’m fine,” he says. “I’ll sleep when we get back to the motel.”

You scoff. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And don’t you feel so much better?”

You shake your head as you stand up and begin to gather your things. “First light, my ass.”

Joel sighs. “Helpin’ you out is a thankless job.”

Though you want to stay mad, it’s a champagne problem that you get over it pretty quickly. You feel more refreshed than you have since you ended up in this group, and considering you were sleeping on a cave floor with your backpack as a pillow, things aren’t really going to be better for you back in Joel’s room.

You give him a grudging thank you right before you’re about to leave, and he accepts with a smugness that makes you regret it.

You make casual small talk for the first mile, but things go in a different direction when Joel pops an unexpected question on you.

“Who’s Connor?”

You trip over your own feet, and you know it’s wishful thinking to hope he didn’t see it. You regain your footing and keep walking, making a point to not look at him.

“Where’s this coming from?” Your words might come out a little too aggressive, but you don’t really care right now.

“You talked in your sleep half the night,” Joel says. “Kept muttering about some guy named Connor, how you didn’t wanna leave him.”

“It’s none of your business,” you say.

“You don’t get to pull that shit with me after tryin’ to go all Twenty Questions last night,” he insists. “You told me ‘bout half your life anyways.”

Just because you told him about inconsequential childhood and college things doesn’t mean you owe him actually important stuff. You can do what he did and just shut him down again, and every other time if he happens to ask again.

But you were preaching all that shit about togetherness and getting to know each other and breaking down the barrier. Joel might be a hypocrite, but you have to be better than Joel.

“...He’s my brother,” you finally say. The words feel heavier saying them to him for some reason.

“He dead?” Joel asks. Leave it to him to be blunt.

“No,” you say roughly, hastily. “No, I—”

You swallow the lump in your throat and shake your head. “I don’t know. We lost each other a while ago, and I’ve been trying to find him ever since. So I guess I just really, really hope he’s not.”

“When did you see him last?”

“Two years ago,” you say. “We were in some commune in Ohio with a buncha hunters that tolerated us because I was a doctor and he was a good supply runner. One day, one of the leaders started accusin’ a bunch of people of stealing meds. Swore the supply was goin’ down—accused every person I’d treated the past few months of bein’ a junkie and stealing. Killed every single one of ‘em over the course of a week.” You shake your head as the memory comes back in full force. “Meds kept disappearing. Soon enough, no one was left to blame but me.”

“Did you take ‘em?” Joel asks.

“No,” you say. “I had no reason to. Still don’t know who did it. But Connor realized I was next on the chopping block and no amount of reasoning would bring him down from the edge, even if that meant killing his only doctor.” You bite the inside of your cheek to hold the tears back. “Connor and I fought like crazy that night, but eventually, he won. He gave me all his supplies and got me to leave in the middle of the night. I wanted him to come with me, but he said they would hunt me down. Said he had to stay cover my tracks. Told me to go back to Boston, find the QZ— he would meet me there.”

Joel is silent for a moment. When he speaks up, it’s his usual.

“You’re pretty far from Boston.”

“Roads I was tryin’ to take were completely overrun,” you say. “I had a car back then, in pretty decent shape—decided I would try and get back to the farm just to recuperate. Resupply, take a breather, just try to shit out before I had to get all the way to Massachusetts.” You shrug. “And I guess a part of me thought that Connor might have thought the same thing.”

You huff. “Pretty clear I never fuckin’ made it there, though. I just gotta hope he had better luck than me, and that’s waiting for me there—not dead in a ditch in Ohio.”

“He probably is,” he says.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you snap. “That’s all you gotta say?”

“I’m bein’ honest—”

“Well, I don’t need your honesty,” you bite out. “We made a promise to each other. Far as I’m concerned, he ain’t dead ‘til I see his bones. I don’t care how stupid you think it is.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but when he does, it’s about what you expect.

“It is stupid.”

“Joel—”

“But it’s also admirable.”

You glance at him. “You hit your head back there or something?”

“No. Just think it’s rare to be able to keep up hope like that.” He shrugs. “One of the things I’ve admired ‘bout you for a while.”

Again, you feel your cheeks heat—your whole body, honestly. You busy yourself with the path ahead of you while you try to remember the art of subtlety.

“...Thanks,” you finally say. “But I think you’re lyin’. You thought it was stupid when we first met.”

Joel snorts. “Things’ve changed since then. You’re way less annoying now—can’t hold that against me.”

“I am the same level of annoying, thank you very much.” You smile at him. “You like me more now. Face it.”

He just huffed and shook his head, though you could tell he was fighting a smile of his own. “Just shut up and keep walking.”

You do, for the most part. Your path is pretty straightforward, only having to take a few detours due to infected that you take out pretty easily together. You and Joel have really found a groove working with each other since you started going on these supply runs.

Maybe that’s what gets you to speak up again.

“You really think my brother’s dead?”

Joel doesn’t respond immediately. He lifts a low-hanging branch so you can duck under it, and when you glance over at him, he looks conflicted.

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” he says. “Only matters what you do.”

“You say all the time that you’re older and wiser than me,” you say. “So give me some of that elder wisdom.”

Joel frowns. “I’m only forty.”

“Can’t be only forty when you’re constantly sayin’ I’m too young to know things,” you retort. “So tell me the truth. Do you really think he’s dead? That I’m wasting my time trekking across the country?”

“...I don’t know,” he says. “Been eight years since all of this fell apart. Logically, neither of us should still be kicking, but we are.”

“So you think he’s alive.”

“I think people beat the odds all the time,” Joel says. “And if your brother’s got the same stubborn genes as you, then I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s beat ‘em too.”

You nod a few times. Whatever Joel said wasn’t going to change your mind—you meant what you said, that you won’t believe Connor is dead until you see his lifeless body. But it feels like Joel is on your side, even if it’s just one foot over the line.

Those words echo in your head again: not yet.

You decide to test the boundaries.

“I think so too. It’s why I’m putting up with all this,” you say. “This… group. Jake’s bullshit. So I can get out when it’s time and keep trying to find my brother.”

This is bigger than the doctor thing, and you’ve just dropped it on a casual walk. You’re still considered a flight risk, hence Joel’s constant companionship and the radiator nights even after you’ve more than proven yourself. You don’t know how much Joel ever believed it, but this pretty much confirms that it’s true.

“Shouldn’t talk like that out in the open,” Joel says after a moment.

“We’re in the middle of the woods,” you say. “Who—”

“Anyone,” he interrupts. “Here or there. So whatever shit you’re planning, don’t tell me about it.”

“Joel—”

“I mean it,” he continues. “I don’t care if you get yourself killed. Just don’t get me pulled into it.”

You walk the rest of the way in silence.

Joel is barely around the next day, or the day after that. You earn your keep like normal, but it makes you nervous. You try to talk to him at night, but he doesn’t give. You shouldn’t have tested the boundaries.

It’s not like you think he’s loyal to this group—you don’t think he’s loyal to anyone but himself—but he’s been with them for longer than he’s known you. Why would he choose you over them? It doesn’t matter if he got scared when you were grabbed, if he let you sleep a little extra. It’s probably just a glitch in his programming or whatever.

One thing you should always remember about Joel is that he will always put himself above anyone else. You might have thought differently at some point, but it’s the truth.

You just hope he finds it in himself not to turn you in.

You barely sleep the next night, too paranoid about everything going wrong just because you decided to trust Joel with something other than watching your six.

That means when gunshots start erupting, it’s less of a rude awakening and more of a reprieve from your pitiful attempt at sleep.

You dart up so quickly you nearly slam your head against the radiator. You don’t like most of the people in this group, but at least they tolerate you—most of them respect you. You’re not too keen on pulling this stunt again with another group of hunters that could be even worse than this one.

That is, assuming this is an attack by humans and not infected. People, you can bargain with. Runners and clickers, not so much.

The thought makes you look over at Joel’s bed, surprised he’s not the one that woke you up. You quickly realize why.

He’s gone.

His materials, his bag, his weapons—it’s all gone. What’s more surprising is that he’s actually made his bed for once.

You don’t think he’s dead. But you also don’t think he’s coming back, so you’re officially on your own.

A part of you hopes against it. But why would he leave without saying goodbye if he wasn’t leaving for good?

You blink back tears. They shouldn’t even be falling. You’ve only known him for a few months and you spent half of those fighting him. But you liked him, damn it—sharp, jagged edges and all.

But it doesn’t matter.

You’re so tired of being at the mercy of others, constantly begging for your life with white lies you can only hope are enough. You can’t sit here and cry. You have to get out of here.

You pull your cuffed hand. It hurts, obviously, and you immediately switch tactics: pulling at the pipe you’re attached to. You grip it as tight as possible and pull, your feet pushing against the body of it for more power.

This radiator doesn’t even work anymore. It’s old and rickety and it can’t be that sturdy, even if it’s made of metal. You’ve been stuck to this thing for your whole time here, and you are so fucking sick of it.

You finally pull the pipe apart from the radiator with a yell, and you land on your back a few feet away from the force you used. You try to even out your breathing as you recover, and pull yourself back into a sitting position. The door suddenly slams open and you wield the pipe like a weapon, pushing away from the entrance on instinct.

Instead of an intruder or a clicker, it’s fucking Joel.

He stumbles inside, covered in blood with a hand pressed against his side and curses waterfalling from his lips. Your eyes widen as you continue to breathe heavily. He looks towards the radiator, then to you, but he doesn’t even seem surprised.

“The hell are you doing?” he asks.

“Trying to escape,” you respond breathlessly. “The hell are you doing?”

“Comin’ back for you,” Joel says. Your face heats inexplicably. “But it looks like you already handled half the job.”

He pulls something from his pocket and tosses it over to you. You loosen your iron grip on the pipe to catch it.

It’s the damn key to your handcuffs. You can’t help but laugh. You wasted all that effort just for Joel to show up ten seconds later, your knight in bloody armor.

“What’d you do?” you ask.

“What needed to be done,” Joel responds. His voice is gruff from the pain, though he tries to hide it. You don’t understand why. There’s no point. “Now get yourself out of those things and let’s go.”

You blink and look up at him. You’ve been dreaming of getting out of this place from the moment you got here—of killing everyone that killed your people, of clawing your freedom back from those that stole it from you. You can’t believe Joel got to it first.

“Why’d you do it?” You can’t help but ask. Far as you knew, he got along with these people. If not that, he at least survived with them. Didn’t care about the people they murdered.

“Because I had to,” he says. “You just gonna stare at ‘em?”

You want to ask more, but you have a feeling you won’t get anything out of him. Not now. So you push down on your thoughts of lost revenge to finally free yourself from those cuffs rather than relying on another.

“You’ve got a minute to grab anything you need,” Joel says. You’re just starting to massage your raw wrist when he starts to walk off, hand pressed even harder against the wound he’s trying to hide.

“Wait!” You shoot up, nearly tripping over your feet trying to follow him. It’s not hard to catch him when he’s doing more stumbling than walking.

“There’s no time to wait,” he says. “Gunshots bring people and clickers, and I ain’t dealing with either.”

“You’re hurt,” you say, only proven correct by how easily you get in front of him. The growing patch of blood on his shirt, holding his weight on his uninjured side, his labored breathing—you don’t need to be a med student to see the obvious. “Was your murder spree interrupted?”

Joel scowls. You find it funny how he always seems to take offense to you caring about his health. “Don’t act like it tears you up inside. I did you a favor.”

“Yeah, I appreciate that,” you say wryly. “Now, can you chill out for a second and let me at least look at whatever they did to you?”

“We don’t have—”

“We do have time,” you interrupt. “I assume you killed everyone in here, so we don’t have them to worry about. It’ll be a second before any infected get here, but if it makes you feel better, the doors lock. And in my medical opinion—”

“You’re not a doctor,” Joel bites out.

“I’m the closest thing you’ve got to one,” you retort. “And I don’t think you’ll make it a mile before your adrenaline fades and you’re out of luck.” You cross your arms. “Without bandaging it, you’re practically begging for an infection. How’s sepsis sound to you, Joel?”

He stares at you—glare is more appropriate, actually. “You and your fuckin’ infections.”

You stare back, refusing to move. “Not my fault you haven’t taken a shower since the outbreak started.”

Eventually, he groans in annoyance and walks back over to the bed, taking a seat that causes him to wince.

“Can’t believe you just wanted to walk out of here,” you say as you grab your medical bag.

“Save the preaching, get to stitching.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Pull your shirt up.”

He does, and you get to work, going through the same motions as the first time you met.

“You get shot or stabbed this time?”

“Stabbed,” he says. “You ever gonna wine and dine me, or you just gonna keep tellin’ me to strip?”

You smile. “You find some good wine out here and a kitchen that works, I’m more than happy to do it.”

You feel his gaze on you as you continue to work, feel his muscles tense then relax every time your fingers brush his skin, and you like it. You like knowing that he killed all these people without a second thought and he still reacts this way to your touch. Maybe it’s sick—this sort of lightness does feel wrong after what he did—but the more you think about it, the more you don’t care. It’s not like there’s anyone still around to judge you.

“Noted,” he says.

You bite back your smile to keep it from growing. “Who did this to you?”

“Don’t matter,” Joel says. “They’re dead now.”

You sigh and shake your head. “How’d you do it, then? These people are capable—tore my community down like it was nothing. You’re just one man.”

“Why d’you think I did it in the middle of the night?” Joel looks away. “Surprise is one hell of an element. They expected it from you, not from me. ‘Sides, it’s not the first time I’ve done this.”

“Ah.”

“Always known I would do it,” he continues. “Ever since I joined this group. They were just a means to an end—they were too reckless for their own good. Woulda gotten me killed sooner or later, and I ain’t lettin’ that happen.”

“Awful lotta time to make a murder plan,” you say. “Mine feels half-baked compared to yours.”

Joel shrugs. “Guess that’s why I did it before you. Helps not being handcuffed to a radiator.

You shake your head with a huff. “Worst way I’ve ever slept.”

You continue on in silence for a good while. You don’t mind because it helps you focus, especially once you start sutures—you’re usually the one that starts the conversations anyways. But then—

“I have a brother too,” Joel suddenly speaks up.

You smile wistfully. “Now you’re openin’ up.”

He shakes his head. “Just answerin’ your question. Why I did this.”

You frown. You continue suturing without faltering, but Joel must see your face because for once, he keeps going.

“You weren’t gonna get outta here anytime soon,” Joel says. “Not with Jake up your ass, makin’ those kind of comments. You didn’t hear the way he talked about you with everyone else.”

A chill runs up your spine. You fight to keep your hands steady.

“There was only so much I could do to protect you the way things were here,” he says. “So I changed things.”

He talks about it so simply. Slaughtering a whole camp of people is changing things.

But he did it to save your life. Can you really cherry pick any of that? Especially when you thought about doing the same countless times over the months?

“My brother and I fell apart,” Joel continues. “He didn’t like the shit I was doing to survive— said there was a line we had to draw, that there was more to life than just survivin’. I didn’t agree. So we went our separate ways.”

Joel meets your eyes. “I ain’t gonna let that happen to you. Not when you’ve still got a chance.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek when you feel the pinpricks of incoming tears.

He really did do this for you. To keep you alive—to keep you safe.

When you fell asleep that night, you thought he was only a couple steps away from betraying you.

Instead, he was your salvation.

After you stitch Joel up, give him some painkillers, and make sure he’s not going to die, you take your time going through the rest of the camp. There’s a surprising amount of materials around, especially that was being kept in individual rooms. It’s a little difficult seeing all the bodies, but not as hard as you thought it would be.

When you get to Jake’s room, you take your pistol from his body and shoot him in the head with it. He’s already dead, but it still brings you some sort of satisfaction. You think Joel will chastise you for wasting bullets, but he doesn’t say a thing.

You fit as much as you can into both of your packs and even more in your horses’ saddle packs. You pick the two that look to be the strongest and set the others free—they’ll stand a chance on their own rather than tied up here.

It’s nearly morning by the time you’re done, and you stand next to Joel as you watch the sunrise. It might be the one thing you never get tired of—one of the few things that remind you of how beautiful the world used to be.

Dawn is… oddly silent here. You grew up with frogs and cicadas and all sorts of barn animals making themselves heard into the night and early morning, but the apocalypse brings a strange sense of serenity. When it’s not being interrupted by infected or hunters, that is.

“Feels wrong standing out here,” you murmur. “Knowin’ what you did.”

“I told you, it had to be done.” Joel shakes his head. “You wanted ‘em dead anyways.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier,” you say. “Nothin’ does.”

“Maybe for you,” he says.

You hum in acknowledgment. This isn’t something you want to fight over—not know.

“Where’re you goin’ after this?” you ask.

“No clue,” he murmurs. “I sorta… drift from place to place. Anywhere I can survive.”

“I understand,” you say. “Spent a lotta time like that.”

You feel Joel’s gaze on you. “What about you? Where’re you off to?”

“Boston,” you say. “It’s where Connor and I agreed to meet again. We heard about a QZ there, so figured it would be a safe place to meet after however long it takes to get there. Been tryin’ to get there for a while, but I’ve been thrown…” you chuckle, “majorly off course. Seems like a pipe dream now, but I’m still gonna try.” You glance over at him. “Can you believe we’re stuck in Kansas?”

“Got no idea how the hell I ended up here,” Joel says with a chuckle of his own. “Figure you would like it, though. Close enough to your panhandle.”

“Close enough but farther than ever,” you say, and you smile wistfully. “I miss the farm.”

“I miss Texas,” he admits.

“Someday, we’ll get back,” you murmur.

Joel hums in acknowledgement. He looks back at the sky, and a good ten seconds of silence pass between you before he speaks.

“I’ll get you to Boston.”

Your eyes widen. For a moment, you’re not sure if you’ve heard him correctly. “What?”

Joel shrugs. “Didn’t save your life back there to leave you to die out here.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Joel,” you say. “You— you barely know me.”

“Actually, you talked my ear off enough that I know plenty,” he says. “‘Sides, I’m gonna need someone to keep an eye on this wound—rather have it be the devil I know.”

You feel a certain warmth settle in your chest, alongside a growing smile on your lips. “You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack,” he nods.

You stare at Joel for a good, long while, and then you hug him.

You can’t help it. You can feel his staggered heartbeat, his uneven breathing—the way he just… stands there, like it’s the last thing he expected. It makes you wonder how long it’s been since someone last hugged him, showed any kind of affection.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. It takes a second, but he hesitantly wraps an arm around you. He pats your back more than anything, but when you pull away, he’s fighting a smile.

“I mean it, Joel.” You laugh, almost giddy. “It felt like a death mission on my own. But with you… seeing my brother again feels real.”

“No sense in lettin’ someone else lose a brother when I can try and stop it,” he says.

“You’ll find Tommy again,” you say. “I know—”

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “We made our choices. But you and Connor still got a chance.”

You swallow the lump building in your throat and nod. No use arguing with him over one of the sorest subjects. “This means more than anything, Joel. I’m serious.”

“Then let’s not waste it on being sentimental,” he says. “C’mon. We’re burning daylight.”

You let out a breathy sort of laugh, full of relief, as you follow him over. Joel locks his fingers together to give you a step up onto your horse, and once you’re on, he gives you an amused look.

“You do know how to ride a horse, farm girl?”

“Please,” you huff. “I grew up around ‘em. Probably know better than you.”

“Let’s not get crazy now.”

Joel gets on his horse and you ride up closer to him so you can look him in the eye.

“So we’re goin’ to Boston,” you say. “Any idea how the hell we get from here to there?”

He pulls a rolled-up paper out of his pack and flattens it out. “Just so happens our benevolent leader Jake had a map. It ain’t the best, but it’ll give us a path to follow.”

You nod a few times, your resolve steadily growing. “We can actually do this.”

“‘Course we can,” Joel says. “Didn’t do all this just to fail.”

“Some actual optimism,” you marvel. “I can’t believe it.”

He shrugs. “Balance is important.”

“And a joke, too,” you say. “If the world hadn’t already ended, I would think it was right now.”

“Alright.” Joel huffs and shakes his head. “Let’s get goin’ before I regret bringing you with me.”

You don’t try to bite back your smile this time.

You stir your horses into action as you begin to ride, Joel in front of you to lead but little distance between you.

You knew you would get out of this place somehow, but you thought you’d slip out in the middle of the night alone, running for your life with no idea of where to go next. You’d run into a group of people, barter your skills in return for your survival, and so on and so forth until you somehow made it to Boston. A pipe dream indeed.

Instead, you’ve got a horse, a pack full of supplies, a plan, and Joel.

You’ve got Joel, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time in months.

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voidlevy2 · 5 months ago

Text

.ᐟ foreseeable future — pt. 2

k.bakugou smau

he’s your brother’s best friend.

a/n: PART TWO EVERYONE STAND UP HELLOOOOOOO BROTHERS BSF BAKUGOU MEOOOOWWWWWWW HEHEHEHEHEHHE

m.list | pt. 1

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voidlevy2 · 7 months ago

Text

— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development.

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun?

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago.

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide.

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest.

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent.

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence.

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time?

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown.

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care.

He isn't a villain-in-training.

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children.

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents.

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet.

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it.

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class?

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes.

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing.

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now.

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again.

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good.

Happy.

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time.

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto.

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero.

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good.

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever."

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk.

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher.

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember.

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing.

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle.

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute.

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all.

He hangs back.

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto.

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was.

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds.

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back.

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are... good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose.

And the underdog in question can read a room.

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions.

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment.

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell.

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?"

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy."

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog."

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya.

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?"

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath.

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates.

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful.

Fuyumi's contribution.

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back.

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine.

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables.

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A.

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks.

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass.

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy.

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him.

Until this morning, that is.

You smile into your drink.

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot.

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school.

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so.

It's adorable.

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home.

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it.

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you.

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss.

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen.

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you.

It's sweet.

Really sweet.

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit.

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there.

Your stomach does a flip.

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure.

Keep it together.

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years.

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment.

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park.

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly.

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest.

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now.

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment.

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone.

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful.

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together.

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face.

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did.

It shows.

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory.

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined.

And then you whimper.

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching.

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up.

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him.

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that?

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect.

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person.

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face.

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs.

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend.

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki.

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voidlevy2 · 7 months ago

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◇ Complete

◇ After five years together with Midoriya, you find yourself newly single and heartbroken. When he starts dating again, you shout a bold-faced lie to the universe that wraps you and Katsuki Bakugou together for better or worse. In order to save face, you need to work together with the grumpiest man on the planet.

◇ Verity (noun): The quality or state of being truthful or honest. Also your Hero Name to go along with your quirk of forcing others to tell the truth.

ProHero!Bakugou x Fem!Reader (Brief Midoriya x Reader)

◈ Pro Hero, Fake engagement

!!: angst, sex, cheating

◇ Chapter 1: It Starts With a Breakup

◇ Chapter 2: Life Goes On

◇ Chapter 3: Always Second Place

◇ Chapter 4: How Did It End Up Like This?

◇ Chapter 5: Dynamight and What’s-Her-Name

◇ Chapter 6 (18+): Fuck You

◇ Chapter 7: Leftovers

◇ Chapter 8: A Ring, a Red Carpet, and an Ex

◇ Chapter 9 (18+): Sex on the Beach

◇ Chapter 10: A Lie by Omission is Still a Lie

◇ Chapter 11: What is Love

◇ Chapter 12: The Truth Will Set You Free

◇ Epilogue

Tag List: @thatfanfictionwriter , @loving-katsuki , @dienamights , @katditca , @boosyboo9206 , @alex-sulli , @hypernovaxx , @daddyissxes , @ti-mame , @thekaylahub , @ms0milk , @nerd-nowandforever , @minninugget , @tiny-wooden-robot , @icedemon1314 , @xviternity , @naiomiwinchester , @lovinkiri , @sincerelyyrosemary , @abnormalanimeweeb , @satogg , @liberace2 , @acid-rain27 , @itgetzweird08 , @chaoticorganizedmess , @neurovascular-entrapta , @kiwiified , @bnha-free-writing , @fishbolw , @xxkay15xx , @zombiewarprincess , @izuwumidoriya , @blue-enigma , @mommy-without-milkers , @plaggi , @budibbly , @hiqhkey , @great-goddess-of-sin, @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory , @zyxys1 , @doonaandpjs , @chifuyus-slut , @aceredhairliberal , @dxrkdreamer , @archdag , @bakugospartner , @cxshmereclxud , @nuthonii, @sukisprint, @juneday-romanoff , @chixkadee , @hallothankmas ,

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voidlevy2 · 8 months ago

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synopsis - in light of a major controversy that causes his fan support to dwindle significantly, katsuki bakugou is forced to do anything possible to garner back the affection of his fans before the announcement of the year’s hero rankings. katsuki has two options: either "date" japan’s most-adored social media star, in hopes of her amazing reputation bringing up his, or kiss that #1 spot goodbye. it’s a no-brainer what he chooses. and it shouldn’t matter at all, right? it’s a fake relationship. nothing more, nothing less.

pairing - katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

genre - fluff + (i’m gonna throw in a couple of funnies)

status - ongoing

started - january 23rd, 2024

ended -

y/n’s angels i survived UA High

[01: that time he fucked up]

[02: that time there was a clean up crew]

[03: that time she agreed]

[04: that time the ball got rolling]

[05: that time they all reacted]

[06: that time she had free reign]

[07: the one before the ceremony]

[08: the one with the hero ranking ceremony]

[09: that time with the heart to heart]

[10: that time she was hungry]

[11: that time mama texted]

[12: that time she met the parents]

[13: that time he acknowledged it]

[14: that time they had a good day]

[15: that time there was a conversation]

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voidlevy2 · 8 months ago

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↳ ongoing! h.sero smau. m.list.

꩜ fem!reader. no quirk au. bnha college au. ꩜

you had a deal with your dad: stay at the top, stay unemployed. but when he randomly flips the script, you have to find a job, and fast. when your best friend suggested becoming a tutor to get your dad off your back, and for some spare cash, you thought it was worth a shot. being in the top 5% of your class would make this job easy; but who you were tutoring would not.

prologue!

꩜ part 1.

꩜ part 2.

꩜ part 3.

꩜ part 4.

꩜ part 5.

꩜ part 6.

꩜ part 7.

꩜ part 8.

꩜ part 9.

꩜ part 10.

꩜ part 11. (coming soon!)

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voidlevy2 · 8 months ago

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EDDIE X READER - COMPLETED

The start of your senior year had you rethinking everything your life had been thus far. It’s as if you woke up one day and decided it was time to do a complete 180. Maybe it was the senioritis that teachers joked about, or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, but either way, you realized that maybe you didn’t like the life you’d been living anymore. So, you decide to change it. You just didn’t factor in Eddie Munson being part of that equation.

notes & tropes: 18+, fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes

fic inspo & refs | fic playlist | also on ao3 | author info, etc

chapter list

⛧ one ⛧ two ⛧ three ⛧ four ⛧ five ⛧ six ⛧ seven ⛧ eight ⛧ nine ⛧ ten ⛧ eleven ⛧ twelve ⛧ thirteen ⛧ fourteen ⛧ fifteen ⛧ sixteen ⛧ seventeen ⛧ epilogue

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voidlevy2 · 8 months ago

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miss pretty

{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}

summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.

warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.

word count: 11.4k

authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333

katsuki bakugo hated messes.

“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”

“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.

“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”

“mhm!” he chirped.

“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”

“yup yup!��

and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.

that was of course, until he met you.

katsuki shoved through the other parents in line as he went up to the front desk in the main office with a grip on his sons little hand, not giving a damn about the glares and huffs of bewilderment he got as there was no way in hell he was gonna wait like an idiot with the rest of them.

the lady at the front desk raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“can i help—”

“where the fuck is room twenty four.”

her eyes bulged open as the rest of the parents in line softly gasped and murmured.

“e—excuse me?—”

he rolled his eyes.

“room twenty four.” he pushed. “where is it?”

“sir— if you need me to help you i’d like you to wait in line until—”

“hah?! absolutely not.” he spat. “if i wait in that fucking line my son’s gonna be late why can’t you just tell me—”

“uh sir if you could—”

katsuki’s son giggled as he continued to spout profanities at the poor front desk lady.

“—sir please no foul language there are children around—”

“i don’t give a shit! just tell me where room twenty four is what the hell is so hard about that?!—”

“oh! that’s my class!”

katsuki snapped his head over, fiery red eyes shooting towards the voice until they landed on yours.

“is he one of my kids?” you smiled sweetly, eyes coming down to look at his son.

“oh—” he let his shoulders relax just a tad as he watched you fix the strap of his sons backpack on his shoulder. “i mean— if your class is twenty four—“

“it is!” you beamed, nudging your head. “i’ll show you where!”

“hiii miiiissss!” his son greeted, happy and silly as he followed you down the hall.

“hi honey!” you gushed, just as excited as he was as you patted over his blonde scruffy hair. “what’s your name?”

“milo!”

“nice to meet you milo! are you excited for your first day?”

“yeaaahh!” he cheered, smile bright as he grabbed your hand.

katsuki’s eyes widened.

“milo!” he snapped lowly. “what’d i tell ya? you can’t grab her hand like that you have to ask—”

“oh it’s alright!” you dismissed, smiling. “i don’t mind it at all! the other kids do it too.”

milo snickered and stuck his little tongue out at his dad, and katsuki rolled his eyes.

“is he yours?” you asked kindly, tilting your head.

“who else would he be…” he grumbled.

“i guess you’re right!” you giggled. “he looks just like you.”

katsuki’s eyes flickered to yours before dropping back down, a permanent furrow in his brows as you all rounded the corner.

“here we are—”

“ooo! ooo!” milo hopped up and down. “miss you have race cars?! dad can i please go?!”

he looked over, a mountain of toys scattered about in the classrooms play area, little kids already making a damn mess and the school day hadn’t even officially started yet.

“the hell you asking me for? ask your tea—”

“miss miss can i please go play with the race cars?!—”

“of course my love! go! go have fun.” you smiled, gently ushering him on before milo zoomed over to the play area and crouched down with the rest of the kids.

“oi!” katsuki barked. “put them away when you’re done!”

he huffed under his breath as he watched his son give him a thumbs up and fucking dump the entire bucket of race cars down on the ‘abc’ play rug, taking one in each hand and dragging them across floor.

“he’s so cuteee.” you grinned. “i’m glad he’s not afraid being it’s his first day.”

“oh fuck no.” he mumbled. “milo doesn’t care. the little runt doesn’t have a filter and does whatever the hell he wants without askin’ sometimes.”

he leaned against the doorsill as he watched milo converse with another kid and share a car, satisfaction in his chest that his son was sharing and being nice.

“but i guess he gets that from me.” he finished off.

you nodded. “but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

he pursed his lips.

“in my experience, not really.”

you hummed.

“i think it’s definitely a good thing… i’d rather be assertive of things and not be afraid of what the consequences will be.”

katsuki looked at you, properly this time.

“what’s a kindergarten teacher afraid of?”

you shrugged, a slow playful grin spreading across your face.

“parents.”

he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and you quickly had to look away, a pink buzz to your cheeks at the way his big built arms flexed.

inappropriate inappropriate inappropriate—

“i don’t know how you do it..” he spoke lowly.

“do what?”

“take care of little shits all day.”

you laughed loudly, reeling over a bit as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“i don’t take care of them! i teach them.” you quipped cutely. “they’re small, but this is when their brains drink up the most knowledge… and i love to see the progress from the beginning of the year compared to the end! i love it all really.”

pure.

katsuki curtly nodded, your sweet positive ambiance throwing him completely off, as he doesn’t think he’s ever met or surrounded himself around someone who’s directly emmitted the feeling of sunshine and rainbows and candy as much as you did.

and his cheeks flared up for some reason.

“oh!” you looked to the time on your little wrist watch and walked inside your classroom. “it’s almost time to start! i have to wrangle them all in their seats heh!”

katsuki swallowed and nodded.

“milo!”

he turned and upon seeing his dad wave him over, milo dropped his toys and bounded to him.

“don’t give her a hard time alright?” he spoke sternly, nudging his head over at you for emphasis. “listen. listen and learn and be the best one in there.”

“kaaayyy!”

“and you let me know if any of the other kids mess with you or you deal with it yourself. you already know how—”

“beat the crap out of them!” he cheered loudly and katsuki’s hand flew to clasp over his sons mouth before his frantic eyes looked at you.

the last thing he needed was someone to call up fucking child protective services on him.

“he’s joking! he’s joking… fuck.”

you giggled hard and clutched your stomach, your pretty smile sending katsuki for a loop.

“no you’re absolutely right!” you waved your hands in front of your face, reassuring. “treat others the way you want to be treated, so if someone’s being mean to you, bite back milo, okay? and also let me know first though!”

katsuki gave you a wobbly tiny smile amidst his branded serious face, looking at his son then and ruffling up his hair.

“okay, go.” milo ran off. “and don’t let me pick you up with dirt all over your clothes ya hear me?!”

“byeee daaaddd!”

you could tell that behind his harsh exterior— the slight purse of his lips, stiff frame and bouncing leg gave away that he was only worried about his kid and his first day of school, a sight you’ve seen time and time again since you started working as a kindergarten teacher, and one that never failed to warm your heart.

“don’t worry!” you sweetly smiled, and katsuki switched his gaze over to yours. “i’ll watch him especially… okay? to ease the nerves.”

he softly snorted, attempting to play it off but internally relieved as he pushed himself off the doorsill and nodded, thankful that the teacher milo got was as kind as you.

“um…” he mumbled. “katsuki.”

you tilted your head. “katsuki?”

“it’s my name idiot.”

“oh!” you giggled, a blush rising in your cheeks again as you tried to simmer it down. “nice to meet you katsuki! i’ll see you after school then with milo?”

he stiffly nodded, the way his name sounded so sugary off your tongue something he’d never heard before in his life or was used to at all.

“…ya gonna tell me yours or what?”

“sorry!” you sputtered, laughing nervously. “sorry it just— flew! you know—”

you stuck your hand out and offered it to him.

“y/n!”

katsuki untangled his arms and firmly shook it, grip strong and one that nearly made you stumble forward as you caught yourself and smiled.

“i’ll see you katsuki!”

out of all of the kids you’ve taught, milo was by far the cutest one.

the little man was like your personal assistant— a little bee buzzing around as he followed you everywhere in the classroom and helped you clean up after the rest of the kids that didn’t, ‘yelling’ at some of them to and cutely scolding them whenever he’d catch them leave some things behind, and was always on watch for you like a security guard with his little balled up fists on his hips, surveilling the classroom for any misbehaving kids or messes that you’d missed throughout the day.

all traits you no doubt knew he got from katsuki, even if you had just met him. it was pleasantly obvious.

“thanks for helping me out today, milo!” you gushed, pushing another students chair in as they all sat down and chattered for lunch. “you made my job a lot easier!”

“really?!” he squealed, big glimmering eyes beaming up at you before he happily chowed down on some apple slices.

and you noticed then milo’s lunch was insane, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut up and molded neatly into the shape of panda bears, his watermelon and apple slices shaped like stars with carrots and celery lined up with a little wedge of lemon if he wished, tiny rice balls on the side for a little snack you figured in case what he had didn’t fill him up— all so considerate and careful…

“wow!” you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. “your lunch looks so yummy my love! did your mommy make this?”

“nuh uh!” he shook his head, cheeks filled with watermelon. “my dad did!”

you faltered.

“katsuki made this?”

“who’s katsuki miss?” he asked curiously, sipping on his little juice box after swallowing the fruit in his mouth.

you giggled. “nothing! nothing. enjoy your lunch okay?”

you went to stand, but milo’s hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“can you— can you eat lunch with me?” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with some carrot pieces in his hands. “please.. i always eat with my dad but he’s not here…”

your eyes softened and you quickly nodded.

“of course! let me just go grab my lunch and ill bring it over! sounds good?”

“yaaaayyyy!” he cheered happily, arms up as you scooched a tiny chair over from a nearby table and sat with him, laughing at his cute expression.

you knew you shouldn’t use a little kid to pry… but you were guiltily curious as to know if katsuki was married or not for reasons that made you ridiculously flustered and red in the face over.

and you wanted to be respectful in case he was… since the ogling you did at his muscles this morning through his black ribbed tank was the most embarrassing moment of your career and one you hadn’t seen coming at all, it catching you off guard and feeling horrible if katsuki indeed had a wife.

but he didn’t have a ring on his finger…

“milo?” you spoke up softly.

he smiled big. “yes miss!”

“does your mommy make you lunch as well or just your dad?”

he shook his head. “just my dad! i don’t have a mom.”

your shoulders deflated.

he didn’t have a mom… at all?

you slowly reached over then and patted his blonde hair, smiling warmly as his cheeks went pink. “that’s alright! i’m sure your dad makes you lunches like this every time huh?”

“yeah!” he gasped excitedly. “yesterday he made pizzas and cut them into dinosaurs! it was so cool! and then!— and then this morning for breakfast i had waffles that looked like dynamite blasts!”

“oh my goodness!” you giggled, your heart absolutely thumping over the fact that katsuki was so dedicated to his son like that. “man, i wish my lunches were as cute as yours!”

his little eyes snapped to yours.

“i’ll tell him!”

your brows furrowed confusedly. “wha—”

“to make you lunch! i’ll tell my dad to make you lunch!”

your eyes widened and you frantically shook your head, cheeks blazing as you laughed. “oh no my love! that’s totally okay don’t worry about me silly—”

“i’ll tell him i’ll tell him i’ll tell him!—”

“milo it’s okay! i’m a big girl.” you grinned. “i’m supposed to make my own lunches.”

milo grumbled and plopped a carrot in his mouth, begrudgingly chewing as he sat there in thought.

“…will you at least let me share some of mine?”

you pouted at his generosity, wondering how a kid could be so sweet as you nodded and held your hand up.

“of course sweetie! whatever you wa—”

milo plopped all of his peanut butter sandwiches in your palm and grinned, earning a gasp from you.

“milo this is too much i can’t—”

“eat it! eat it! eait it!—”

by the end of the day, you managed to get milo to take back his sandwiches in exchange for one singular watermelon star piece, him still doing his regular duties of being your little assistant and helping you clean up after everyone before the final bell rang signaling the end of class, you carefully making sure each kiddo got their designated backpack (as there was often a mix up) and art pieces they made for their parents to take home— a permission slip for the end of the year field trip tucked away inside their bags.

and the minute you stepped outside with the rest of the kids, you were surprised to see that katsuki was one of the first parents there as he stood directly across from your classroom with crossed arms, an angry usual scowl on his face that made you laugh to yourself as you led your kids to sit down on a bench in a single file line until their parents physically came to get them or their vehicles pulled up.

“milo!” you tapped his shoulder gently. “your daddy’s over there!”

“DAAADDD!!”

milo jumped up and ran across the grass, his tiny arms out as katsuki smiled softly and crouched down to pick his son up and settle him on his lower abdomen, you wringing your fingers behind your back and walking up to them.

“were you a brat?” he grunted.

“nope!”

“did any kids mess with you?”

“nope!”

“did you leave a mess?”

“nope!”

you giggled, and katsuki’s eyes snapped in your direction.

“how was he?”

“he did so good!” you gushed, patting milo’s back as he grinned. “was my little helper and everything! didn’t leave a single mess behind and helped me clean up after everyone else… he even made sure everyone was paying attention and not misbehaving.”

“yeah! yeah! see dad?” milo poked his dads cheek. “i didn’t lie!”

“never said you lied you little runt.” he scowled. “…but good job.”

“thanks!”

katsuki set him down after milo started kicking his legs and saying something about the swings, him instantly running towards the playground and to the slide.

“did he actually do all of that?” he spoke up.

“oh yes!” you quickly nodded. “i’ve never had a kid do that before so it was really nice of him to!”

you detached your fingers from around your back and fiddled with them.

“you teach him well katsuki.”

he scoffed and turned his head, cheeks pink as he tried to regain his composure.

“damn right i do.”

you giggled then, the memory of milo telling you he didn’t have a mother suddenly popping into your mind as you watched him happily slide down the blue slide head first.

“hey i don’t mean to um..” you timidly began. “i don’t mean to pry but—”

katsuki raised a brow at you and you snapped your mouth shut.

“nothing! nothing nevermind—”

“spit it out.”

“no it’s alright! sorry i—”

he glared and you cowered, smiling bashfully as you bit your bottom lip.

“milo… milo mentioned that he didn’t have a mommy? i was just— wondering if that was true…”

“tch—” he shook his head. “that’s what you were afraid of askin’ me?”

“i told you i’m scared of parents…” you slumped cutely, and he chuckled.

“it’s just me and him.” he answered. “his mom’s never been a part of our lives.”

your heart sunk a little, eyes sad as your gaze shifted to milo playing and racing around with another kid.

“don’t do that.”

you jumped and looked at katsuki.

“do— do what—”

“look all sad and shit.”

he hesitantly reached over and planted an index finger to the crease between your brows, the feeling rough as he tried to gently drag it down and smooth over the lines.

“it’s fine.” he grumbled, letting his arm fall to his side. “it doesn’t bother him. at least i don’t think it does.”

“no!” you spoke quickly, a crazed blush on your cheeks. “it doesn’t! and milo speaks so highly of you… especially the lunches you make him.”

his brows furrowed. “his lunch?”

“yeah!” you nodded excitedly. “you prepare it so so well! how do you get his sandwiches to look like little bears? and his fruit?! every time i try to cut mine into stars they always break in half…”

he huffed out a laugh, finding your little whine funny as he reached over and ruffled up your hair, you smiling cheekily in response.

“do you use molds?” you asked politely. “to shape out the bear?”

“fuck no.” he scoffed. “i do it myself.”

your eyes flew open.

“what?! so that’s really just you? and the dinosaurs too? the pizza dinosaurs? and the waffles? the ones that looked like dynamite blasts—”

“jesus christ how much did that kid tell you?”

your face grew hot as you smacked a hand over your mouth.

“sorry!” you giggled. “i just was thinking— that his lunch was really cute and thoughtful…” you took your hand away from your face. “i’m really glad that you do little things like that for milo to make him happy.”

katsuki stared at you, your swarm of compliments and sweetness and sunshine and butterflies almost suffocating as you looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, his throat oddly closing up the longer he stared right back and allowed you to pull him into your world of wonder and abc blocks and puzzles.

but it wasn’t suffocating in a bad way, not at all.

and… maybe he did want you to pull him in.

“dad dad dad!”

milo ran over, sweaty and red faced as he reached the two of you.

“there’s a dead lizard in the slide!”

“a dead lizard?” you laughed, surprised as you reached for his little water bottle from his backpack on the ground and uncapped the lid, handing it over and ushering him to drink.

katsuki didn’t know why the domestic sight of you doing that made him melt a bit.

a bit.

“yeah miss! it was big and gross.” he breathed out after gulping some of his icy cold water. “but i buried him!”

his dads red eyes snapped down to his and narrowed.

“don’t tell me you touched that thing milo.”

“i did!” he giggled.

“oh my fucking god—” katsuki snatched his hand and started pulling him to the car as milo giggled and stuck his tongue out.

“it’s a prank! some other girl in my class did… but i helped with the dirt!”

you chuckled softly as you watched katsuki stop and roll his eyes, coming back over to you with a hyper milo.

“say bye to your teacher ya little runt. and you’re still taking a shower when you get home!”

“but i don’t wanna take a showeerrr!” milo whined, letting go of his dads hand and running to you, you crouching and extending your arms big with a pretty smile.

“bye my love!” you hugged him tight as he giggled. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? and give your daddy a break. no more digging up dirt and playing with dead lizards.”

“kaayyyy!”

you both let go and he stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before bouncing back to his dad.

katsuki choked on his spit.

“oi!” he barked. “you can’t just kiss her cheek milo the hell is going on with you?!—”

“it’s okay don’t worry!” you smiled kindly. “he’s just being sweet is all! i don’t mind.”

“you sure?” he pushed, milo snickering. “i—”

you waved him off and wrung your fingers behind your back, leaning forward.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning kats!”

and he froze, nodding hard as he quickly took milo’s hand and backpack before walking to the car, his heart completely aflame in his chest and cheeks red as he led his babbling son further into the parking lot and inside the car, buckling him up in his car seat before hopping in himself and starting the engine, unbelieving that he had barely just met you and he was already thinking and acting like a fucking dumbass.

“and then we learned the days of the week! oh!— and we learned numbers! i can count to fifteen dad!”

“that’s good milo.” he responded, pulling out of the schools parking lot and craning his neck to see if he could catch a final glimpse of you and settling once he did, you so pretty and conversing so nicely with another kid until he was out of the lot.

“did you eat all of your lunch? y/n tells me ya shared with her.”

“i did! i did share with her.” he grinned. “she liked my lunch!”

“good.” katsuki gave him a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. “that’s good that you always share. especially with her.”

“yup yup! she’s preeettyyy.”

he rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew at the corner of his lips as he nodded curtly.

“that she is.”

katsuki continued to drop off his son personally at your classroom every morning before school.

even when it had been a couple of months into the year, at this point many students already used to their route to and out of class and their parents just dropping them off and leaving— them not even allowed on campus as security rounded every corner and told any parents who wished to go in that they weren’t supposed to, as per policy.

but not katsuki.

katsuki didn’t give a fuck as he stormed through the main office and ignored the calls of the front desk lady, her already used to the rude asshole who came through the building every morning as he strode by and down the hall to class twenty four… wanting to see you— his son’s pretty kindergarten teacher that was sweet and joyful and someone who was everything he wasn’t, his mind curious and filled with your giggles and smiles throughout the time that he’d gotten to know you and chat with you in the mornings and the afternoons, loving the way you were with milo and treated him like he was literally your own— always watching over him and making sure he had had enough to eat and drink and that his hands were washed when he wasn’t around.

and even katsuki himself— you bringing him candy bags from their classroom parties or donuts that were passed to faculty in the mornings and saving yours for him, treats he always took and ate with no questions asked even though he wasn’t a fan of sugary shit and junk food, always making the exception for you.

he had never experienced honest help like that… he’d never experienced someone caring enough about him and his son like the way you did so perfectly every single day…

and katsuki feared that he was a little obsessed.

“oh! miss y/n!”

“yes honey?” you responded kindly, opening a juice pouch for another student and handing it to them carefully during lunch.

milo dug into his lunch pail and pulled out a small container, sticking his hand up and offering it to you.

your brows furrowed, taking it from him.

“what’s this milo?”

“it’s from my dad!”

you stopped, heart dropping to your ass as you recounted his words.

from katsuki?

“your— your dad?”

“mhm!”

you shakily popped the lid of the container open, eyes widening and filling with hearts once you saw a mix of star shaped strawberries and watermelon and papayas, drizzled over with sparkling strings of honey and singular little blueberries scattered about.

“for me?” you asked softly, crouching down next to milo. “my love— are you sure this isn’t for you? i think your dad cut these up for you—”

“nope! for you!” he gave you a big toothy smile before stuffing his mouth with crackers. “he told me not to eat it and to give it to you.”

he swallowed and reached up, you tilting down your head so he could pat it just like you always did for him.

“i hope you like it miss! they look like the ones you told me looked cute!”

“i— i love them milo.. thank you!”

you picked up a papaya piece and ate it, entirely dazed and love struck as your tastebuds savored over the sweet velvety thick honey, literally blinking back tears at how thoughtful and kind katsuki was.

he didn’t have to do this at all… yet he took the time anyways out of his morning to do this for you.

and your heart nearly fucking gave out.

after school once you got your rowdy kids to sit neatly on the bench and wait for their parents, you extended a hand for milo and he hopped off the bench and took it, you both walking up to a waiting katsuki as he stood there with a soft smile on his face.

“hi kats!”

“hey.” he picked his son up and settled him over his abdomen, milo’s arms clinging around his neck and chin propped up on his dads shoulder as he was exhausted from a days worth of playing and learning.

“i wanted to um—” you peered up at him. “i um—”

his brows furrowed, and just as he was about to bark about you stumbling over your words, he stopped.

your bottom lip was trembling.

you hurriedly wiped your eyes.

“i wanted to thank you—” hic! “f—for the star shaped fruit this morning—”

“why are you crying dumbass?” he mumbled, reaching over and wiping some tears with his rough fingers.

“because it was so nice!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking as you let him wipe your cheeks. “and— and you put honey over it too! you didn’t have to do any of that for me!”

“tch—”

he flicked your forehead softly, not enough to hurt you but enough to get you to snap out of your hiccups as you sniffled.

“it’s just fruit y/n—”

“but it’s not.” you wiped your eyes again. “not to me anyways…”

katsuki slowly lowered his arm, gaze tracing over your pretty face and perfect hair and the way you cried over something so stupid, his brain unable to process the fact that an act as simple as cutting fruit up for you could make you this happy, and it made him want to see what you saw for once— how you saw the world for exactly what it was and appreciated it regardless of how big or small things were, not snippy or angry or spiteful over everyone and thinking everything was out to get him and his son.

“crybaby…” he grumbled. “i’m glad you liked it though.”

“i did kats.. a lot. thank you.” you wiped the last of your tears and smiled. “i’m sorry i cried.”

what a pretty sweet girl…

he shook his head and hoisted milo up, him completely knocked out with drool coming out of his mouth as katsuki felt it run down his shoulder, barely even noticing that though as his entire focus was trained purely on you.

was it okay if he… asked you out? would it be weird? would you tell him to fuck off?

katsuki internally rolled his eyes at his stupid fucking high school boy thoughts, though it didn’t alleviate the gnawing feeling that if you did tell him to fuck off… that he’d be angrily mortified at his fail and probably lose the right to talk to you since it’d be too awkward to.

but you were just so fucking sweet. all of the time.

“listen uh—” he cleared his throat, face growing hot. “i was wondering if ya wanted to eat dinner with me… sometime.”

you stared, eyes big and shocked and katsuki took it defensively and entirely the wrong way.

“forget it.” he snapped. “forget it i didn’t say shit—”

“no! no no—” you quickly shook your head. “no it’s okay i would!”

he stopped.

“you would?”

“of course!” you expressed sweetly, cheeks hurting from how big you were smiling as you tried to simmer down your giddy squeals. “i’d love to have dinner with you…”

his tense shoulders slowly relaxed, an eventual small smile growing on his face.

“a—alright uh…” he sighed. “i’d prefer to take ya somewhere nice but i don’t really have anyone to watch milo—”

you shook your head again, brows pinched. “oh no kats— we don’t have to go anywhere at all! we can order something in at your place and eat with milo? or— or my place?”

“my place.” he replied. “and i’ll cook.”

he cooks?!

“okay!” you giggled, your hand reaching up and patting over milo’s sleepy head gently. “sounds good!”

katsuki and you agreed on the details of the date after and bid each other bashful goodbyes, swooning as you watched him walk away into the parking lot with a sleeping milo in his arms and feeling like none of this was fucking real, for you couldn’t believe someone as handsome and cool as katsuki would ever be interested in someone like you.

and funnily enough, he felt the complete opposite, stressed and extra snappy as he cleaned the house from top to bottom (though it barely needed it), unnecessarily fixed the positioning of the furniture and made milo put away his toys, him not even whining or protesting like he usually did solely because the little man knew you were coming— pretty miss y/n with the pretty smile and the nicest lady he had ever met, and one he secretly hoped would be his new mommy every time he saw you and his dad converse before and after school, thinking you would fit the role perfectly.

especially after his dad had given you those fruits as a present!

“milo!” katsuki called. “come ‘ere!”

his son ran into the kitchen, toy race car in hand. “what!”

“be good today, ya hear me?” he pushed, face stern as he flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and sautéed vegetables in his frying pan. “please milo. don’t try to be funny and do somethin’ to scare y/n off.”

milo gave him a look.

“scare miss y/n off? dad you’re gonna scare her off not me!” he giggled. “silly.”

“yeah..” he grunted. “you’re probably right but i’m just sayin’. i’m thinking of the time grandma came over and ya put that fake rat in her purse to try and be funny.”

“ohhh yeeeeah!” he doubled over in little fits of laughter, holding his stomach as he did. “i did do that!”

“see what i mean?” katsuki grumbled, snatching the kitchen towel from his shoulder and throwing it down on the counter top, stepping back to peek in the oven. “you better not do that with y/n please.”

“i won’t!” he grinned. “not when she’s about to be my new mommy!”

katsuki choked as his spit went down the wrong pipe, bending over and coughing uncontrollably in his elbow before spinning around and looking at his son with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“the hell you just say?”

“what!” milo tilted his head. “that y/n is gonna be my new mommy?”

his eyes grew even wider as he dropped the pan he was holding on the stove and leaned back, running his hands over his face.

“oh you little runt please don’t say that in front of her, alright?”

he pouted. “why not?”

“you’ll scare her off! worse than when you put that fake rat in grandmas purse!”

“boooo!” milo stuck his tongue out and crossed his little arms over his chest. “whatever.”

“oi!”

“what!”

katsuki’s doorbell chimed and milo booked it to the front door.

“missss preettyyyy!!—”

“milo get your ass back here!—”

katsuki swung the door open and swooped his son in his arms just as he was about to pounce on you in midair, you giggling and covering your mouth as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“i’m sorry—”

“hiii misss y/nnn!” milo greeted happily, dangling off of his dad as katsuki tried to stop him from wiggling out of his grip. “i’m so exciteeeddd!—”

“hi my love!” you gushed warmly, smile wide as you extended your arms and walked forward, taking milo in your arms and setting him on your hip. “how are you? you excited to hang out with meee?”

“yes! yes!” he vigorously nodded. “i wanna show you all my race cars!”

“oh i can’t wait to seeee!” you bounced him on your hip and he giggled, you turning your attention and smiling at katsuki.

“hi kats!”

“the little brat is hogging—”

milo blew a silly raspberry at him before wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck.

you laughed and ran a soothing hand over the little man’s back, katsuki rolling his eyes before stepping to the side and letting you in, shutting the door behind him and leading you over to the kitchen.

and jesus christ you looked beautiful, him noting that pink was what you mainly wore on the day to day as he eyed your small rosy cardigan, you walking through his home and looking around and oblivious to the way he was staring at you like a fucking creep.

katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched your eyes scan your surroundings, stupidly nervous about what you’d think of his house and furniture and minuscule decorations, and annoyed with himself that he’d even give a shit about something like that, trying to occupy himself and ignore it as he looked in the oven and lifted lids of various pots and pans, checking over tonight’s dinner.

“i’m sorry i’m behind…” he grumbled and waved his hand around. “had to clean the house and shower milo since he decided to play in the fuckin’ mud this morning.”

“oh you don’t have to apologize for that kats!” you looked at him worriedly. “you don’t have to apologize for anything i totally understand…”

you hoisted milo further up your hip and grinned. “i’m just happy to spend time with the both of you.”

katsuki felt smoke puff out of his red ears as he nodded and scratched the back of his neck, turning slightly and lifting the lids from his pots and pans again.

“miss preettyyyy!” milo whined. “when can i show you my race cars?!”

katsuki scowled and you laughed.

“now honey! but how about we move some of your toys to the living room so i can spend time with both you and dad? how does that sound?”

“yayayay!!” milo cheered, bouncing on your hip as you smiled cutely and set him down, him running off down the hall and you quickly following after him.

milo talked you through his entire collection of race cars as you both sat down on the living room rug— telling you the model of each and every one, what they did, how fast they went, they places they’d gone, and which were his favorites as you excitedly talked to him about his cars and shifted conversation between him and katsuki, a task he was surprised you did so efficiently, but then quickly realized that that was literally your fucking job everyday dealing with little brats talking your ears off and you attending all of them at the same time.

and when it came around to dinner time, you helped katsuki set up even through his snapping and huffing that you absolutely shouldn’t, you giving him a silly little face as you assisted anyways and set up milo’s booster seat, picking him up and sitting him down before buckling him up while katsuki placed your dishes on the table—

and gourmet fucking dishes at that.

you were bewildered. absolutely bewildered as you gawked over the lasagna platter he set before you, it delicate and fancy looking as he had even draped sauce on your gray ceramic plate in gourmet intricate designs, knowing that katsuki had mentioned to you he was a chef over the several months you’d gotten to know him, but you didn’t know exactly to which extent that chef occupation stretched to.

“kats…” you murmured. “what do you do for a living.”

“i told you idiot.” he passed over a couple of napkins and you gratefully took them, taking one then and wiping down milo’s mouth as he messily ate his cut up pieces of lasagna. “i’m a cook.”

“yeah but what kind? where?”

“why?” he gruffed. “does it look like shit?”

“no!” you giggled. “absolutely not the opposite actually! this is probably the most beautiful lasagna i’ve ever seen in my life.”

“duh.” he responded, but sent you a small smile as he ate. “i’m an executive chef down at a restaurant in the city.”

your jaw dropped. “the city?! you’re so cool kats! oh my goodness!”

his face flushed.

“my dad says his boss is a piece of—”

“don’t say it!” katsuki snapped at his son, eyes wide as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage the little man any further.

“milo i told ya not to cuss until you’re ten—”

“ten?!” you giggled loudly and let your hand fall, sticking your fork in your lasagna and eating. “as long as he cusses with you and not at you… i think it should be fine!”

katsuki stopped.

you get it. or you rile up his bad cussing habit. either or he might as well have found his fucking soulmate.

“miss pretty!” milo called.

“yes my love?”

“do you have a boyfriend?”

katsuki smacked a hand on his forehead and you snickered.

“i don’t!” you grinned. “why milo?”

“because i want you to be my new—”

“milo if ya shut your mouth right now i’ll buy you two new race cars tomorrow.”

his son gasped dramatically and pursed his lips shut, eyes big and excited as he tried to contain himself and do as told.

“his new what?” you tilted your head cutely, katsuki’s heart hammering against his rib cage as he stuffed his mouth with food.

he shrugged. “the fuck should i know?”

“but i wanna know!” you pouted, taking your final bites of your yummy dinner.

he swallowed.

“do you want dessert?”

you gasped. “oh my god yes! i do!”

“then i suggest you shut your mouth too.”

you laughed over the table, quickly nodding as you pursed your lips like milo and pinched your thumb and index finger together, running it across your mouth and twisting your wrist like a pretend lock before dropping your hand in your lap, giddy and excited over dessert.

katsuki playfully rolled his eyes and stood, collecting all of your plates and stacking them on top of each other before taking them over to the sink.

“dad!” milo called as he bounced in his seat, katsuki grunting in response.

“what’d you make for dessert!”

“mochi.”

“yaaaayyyyy!” he cheered happily. “can i eat it with y/n in the living room?”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “the living room?”

“yeah!” milo exclaimed. “so i can keep showing her my race cars!”

he struggled for a moment before eventually nodding. “alright… but don’t make a mess i just cleaned—”

you and milo ended up building a fucking fort once he gave you the all clear, you both saying something about it adding to the ambiance as you used the couch cushions for makeshift walls and milo’s choo choo train sheets for the roof and tent, katsuki before he knew it his entire living room a fucking mess as the three of you sat amongst the scattered about pillows and blankets eating your bits of mochi, milo mainly inside the little tent you made for him as you and katsuki were too big to fit inside with him.

his living room was a mess… but he didn’t mind.

katsuki didn’t mind the mess.

your way of living was entirely different from his, as yours had everything to do with mess due to your full time job with kids— paint all over your hands and face, marker stains on your clothes and sticky glue residue and pieces of cut up construction paper somehow in your hair, all things katsuki despised for years and made sure his house never reflected any of that.

but in that moment, with his living room in complete disarray and the positioning of his couches utterly fucked up? the dishes still in the sink and the table still set?

katsuki didn’t fucking care.

because he had never seen his son so happy. he had never seen him so excited and hyper as you helped him set up and somehow tie fairy lights that katsuki had somewhere up in his attic for holiday seasons around the fort, you looking fucking gorgeous under the dim dark lightning as you read milo one of his favorite children’s books you got from his little shelf in his room— ‘the very hungry caterpillar,’ one of your favorites too as his son followed along with you and giggled whenever you’d make a silly joke only a five year old would find funny.

and katsuki felt warm… that’s all he ever felt when he was around you.

is this what it was like to be a family?

“oh my goodness i almost forgot!” you quickly sat up and handed milo the book, him taking it as you crawled over and reached for your bag. “i brought something for you honey!”

milo gasped and sat up. “really?! what?!”

you pulled out a ceramic cream colored globe with hollowed out stars, a small bulb inside as you scooched on your knees back over to a curious katsuki and milo.

“woah..” his son whispered. “what is it?”

you smiled and reached for the nearest outlet, plugging in the little globe and flicking a switch.

the darkened room illuminated itself then with the soft murmur of a lullaby playing, star shaped shadows slowly shifting around the entire living room as milo gasped and stood, frantically pointing at each moving shadow and gushing while his little mind was trying to process how cool and fascinating this was.

and all katsuki could do was stare at you.

stare at the way you sat back on your ankles and pointed with milo, counting how many stars you could see before it shifted and repeating that for fun, stare at the way both of your eyes glowed with wonder and curiosity, and stare at the way you smiled so gracefully and looked unreal now under the starry lights, his heart on overdrive at how gentle you were and how much you cared about his son.

about him.

and katsuki was sure then he was absolutely sick over you.

you all settled after a while of playing games and eating more mochi, especially milo, the little lullaby knocking him out as he snored next to you in his fort, you and katsuki laying down next to each other as you stared up at the shifting stars.

“i’m sorry i made such a mess in your living room..” you whispered bashfully. “i promise i’ll pick everything up before i leave.”

he shook his head. “don’t worry about it i can pick up. it’s fine.”

you smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the ceiling, feet planted on the blanketed flooring as your mindlessly moved your propped up knees side to side.

“was it hard raising milo on your own kats?” you asked softly, fingers wrung together neatly on your tummy.

“it was at first.” he mumbled. “but i got used to doin’ it on my own.”

you frowned, not particularly happy with the idea that katsuki had to raise a human being on his own without any help or guidance, wishing that he would’ve had someone there to help him every once in a while, or just be there for him.

“you did an exceptional job, okay?” you began. “you should know that... milo is such an honest kid… and he’s so precious too.”

katsuki’s eyes softened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in fear of you noticing his stupid flustered face as he opted for keeping his gaze glued to the starry ceiling, your sugary peachy perfume not fucking helping as he decided to sit up instead.

“he is.” he grunted softly. “don’t know how his mom didn’t see that.”

you faltered and sat up with him.

“what do you mean?”

katsuki eyed you before looking down, hands flat behind him propping himself up as he thought.

“ah… milo happened because of some random hookup i had in college.” he mumbled. “didn’t love her or anythin’, i barely knew her but still told her i’d support her and the baby obviously.”

you nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“i was there through her entire pregnancy and when milo was born… but the minute she got discharged from the hospital and took him with her, i woke up at four in the mornin’ with a knock on my door and milo left abandoned on my doorstep.”

you gasped, hand hovering over your mouth.

“are you— are you serious?”

katsuki nodded.

“she wouldn’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. i went to her house and found out she took the first flight she could to fuck knows where.” he shook his head bitterly. “but i didn’t give a shit about me i’ll raise him i don’t care. it was never about me.

he looked at you. “it was about milo. i didn’t want him to know that his ‘mom’ left him behind like that, and i didn’t want him to think it was his fault or anythin’… shits ridiculous.”

katsuki shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling. “still don’t know how she could ever do something like that.”

the sound of a hiccup make his eyes widen and snap back to you, your eyes filled with fat tears as your bottom lip wobbled, hands coming up to cup over your mouth and nose as you tried to keep it in.

“you’re crying?”

you nodded, squeaky slight sobs slipping past your throat as you strained to keep everything down.

“that’s so cruel.” you cried softly, embarrassingly drowning in your tears in front of him yet again. “you didn’t deserve that at all kats… milo didn’t deserve that you both should’ve had such a good mommy and— and a good support system—”

katsuki pushed himself up and wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you in and rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly.

“you cry over everything y/n.”

“s—” hic! “—sorry—”

he laid the side of his head on top of yours as you shook, somehow feeling guilty of what he told you just because of how much you were crying.

more than when he gave you those star shaped fruits.

“oi…”

katsuki pulled back and looked at you, reaching up and wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“don’t cry baby…”

baby?!

you funnily sobbed even more and shoved your face in his chest, him chuckling as he wrapped his arms back around you and gently swayed side to side.

“stop it idiot.” he mumbled. “it’s fine. it happened years ago n’ milo and i have always been alright on our own.”

…but he wanted you now.

now that he knew what it was like to be softly cared for by someone precious like you, to feel what it was like to be warm and fuzzy and sunshine and rainbows and candy all of the time… and katsuki wanted you so. bad.

“i know..” you hiccuped. “and i’m really glad but i just wish you had someone.”

you pulled away and quickly wiped your wet cheeks. “m’sorry i cried all over your shirt—”

“don’t give a fuck.”

you breathed out a laugh and dropped your hands in your lap, looking at your fingers as you sniffed.

you were always crying for him.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

he looked to the side with a blush to his cheeks.

“thanks for comin’ today.”

you smiled brightly and nodded.

“of course kats! how could i not?” you looked behind you to a sleeping milo, reaching over and pulling his blanket a little further up his shoulders. “i want you to know that i wanna be there for you and milo…”

he shifted his gaze to you as you turned back around.

“whether— whether you wanna keep seeing me or not—” you gnawed nervously at the inside of your cheek. “which i hope you do! but— but if not that’s totally fine i just want to be there for you both…”

how were you so pure? so thoughtful?

“why the hell wouldn’t i wanna keep seeing you?” he huffed, grumbly and embarrassed as he pursed his lips. “i’d be stupid as fuck not to…”

you blushed, happy shiny eyes looking at him eagerly like he was everything and more, and he wasn’t used to people looking at him like that whatsoever as your gaze flickered down to his lips and back up.

and you were so pretty.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

he slowly leaned closer.

“would you be mad if i made a move on you—”

“of course not—”

katsuki lunged and planted his rough lips on yours, you tasting like straight sugar and honey as he placed his big hands on the sides of you head and held you like a piece of delicate glass, kissing and sliding your tongues in each others mouths rather quickly and breathy as he moved one hand from your pretty face down to your waist to grip it.

you placed your hands on the blanketed floor and slowly crawled over to him during the makeout, him reaching and wrapping the rest of his built muscly arms around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down your sides and back, wanting to feel you as much as he possibly could and squeeze you tight as he gulped your little self down, brows furrowed and lips red.

katsuki pulled away and ran his fiery wet mouth across your jaw and to the spot right below your ear on the side of your neck, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as he bit and sucked and still squeezed you, manhandling you in a way and eating you up.

your eyes fluttered open once you heard a slight rustle, your line of sight catching milo shifting a little in his sleep.

“k—kats—” you breathlessly whispered, pushing a little at his shoulders.

he grunted.

“milo—” you pointed. “he’s waking up—”

“the fucks that gotta do with us—”

“kats!”

he groaned and pulled his mouth from you, scowling over to see his son only shifted positions and was now directly facing the both of you, tiny eyes closed as he drooled and was probably dreaming about race cars and his dads shark shaped pb & j sandwiches.

“the little runt is fine—” he shoved his face back in and gnawed at your neck again as you gasped.

“nooo!” you whined and giggled softly. “now i’m scared he’s gonna wake up…”

he huffed and officially pulled away this time, red eyes dilated and half lidded as he looked over your pinky cheeks and shy face, the purple and blue mark he made on your neck making the right side of his lips curve up into a little prideful smirk, you too distracted to notice over the way he clutched and loosened up the hold on your waist repeatedly.

katsuki kept you on his lap and scooched himself down, laying on his back and head on the pillow as he nudged you to lay on him completely over his chest and body, you more than happy to do so as you settled your head on his pecs and got comfortable with his strong arms around you— feeling so safe and looked after.

and you hadn’t expected to sleep over… but you just didn’t wanna leave, and katsuki sure as hell didn’t want you to either as you softly and quietly talked over the small tinkling of the lullaby and milo’s soft breathing, shadowy stars still slowly shifting around you as you easily switched between various topics— ranging from serious to silly as you ran a loving hand over his chest and his on your back, the both of you subconsciously lulling each other to sleep until you were just as passed out on the floor as milo.

since then, katsuki didn’t wanna let you out of his sight.

as if he wasn’t already involved enough with milo’s school activities because of you, this man became a fucking member of the pta and volunteered himself for every single event so as long as you were there, helping you out especially with fundraisers and bake sales as his desserts always sold out quicker than anything else and made bank as he snickered and boasted at the other parents that weren’t selling as much, you giving him a silly glare that never failed to shut him right up as he wanted to be good for you and not upset you.

the front desk lady even went from hating him to loving him, katsuki grumbling and chucking her a bag of leftover fundraiser chocolate chip cookies on her desk as he passed by to drop off milo in the mornings, serving as a ticket way in and to get her to shut up now instead of yelling at him from down the hall.

and he continued to give you yummy star shaped fruits.

except now some days they looked like hearts or little flowers, and he always made his fruit assortments different so you wouldn’t get tired of them and added different dippings like caramel or chocolate hazelnut, you gushing and nearly bawling literally everyday whenever you’d open the container and milo giggling at you during lunch.

you also never went a day without stopping by or staying over at katsuki’s house since your first initial date, your days so much fun and filled with love as you ate lunch or dinner with the two of them, laughing at milo’s sporadic comments or katsuki’s barking and scolding while you either played with milo, helped katsuki clean up the house and him the kitchen or you the kitchen and vice versa, or simply cuddle on the couch with kisses shared amongst you and katsuki— the three of you with milo seated peacefully and comfortable in the middle while you watched a movie or lulled the little man to sleep.

and katsuki had never felt so complete as he started leaving messes behind without even realizing or stressing about it, and he didn’t know when the fuck it was that he turned so soft and sappy— the change a bit strange to those who knew him as he was just a teeny weeny less explosive and angry over small things, and more so when it came to you and his son.

“make sure you keep your little bucket hat on honey, okay? it’s hot today and i don’t want you to tire yourself out milo.”

the end of the year field trip for the kindergarteners this year was a voyage to the local wildlife sanctuary, a gorgeous exhibit that sat right next to the national science museum in your city, its main attraction being the 25 foot koi pond and butterfly wonderland that housed various butterfly species and their little habitats— the kids field trip assignment being to count how many they see throughout the day and pick one koi fish and butterfly to draw on their journals.

katsuki, of course, volunteered as a chaperone.

“single file line please my loves!” you called, hand by your mouth. “and don’t seperate from your friends okay?! everyone stay where i can see—”

“oi!” katsuki barked, snapping and pointing at a rogue kid who decided to break free from the line and run across the grass. “the fuck do you think you’re doing!—”

“kats!” you breathed out a shocked laugh. “you’re gonna get me fired if you talk to the kids like that—”

“shit! sorry— i’m sorry baby hold on—”

katsuki booked it across the grassy lawn and caught up with the running kid on the other side, the rest of your class giggling and cackling as katsuki swooped him up with one arm and dangled him upside down while he kicked and swung tiny punches to his abs, katsuki not even flinching.

“do that again and see what happens brat.” he spat, the little kid not having a single care in the world as he giggled with the rest of the class, all of them deviously planning to piss katsuki off as much as possible since his outbursts were just funny.

“okay okay—” you smiled apologetically at him before taking the dangling boy from his arm and setting him back down, fixing over his clothes and backpack before patting his head and standing upright.

“no more running alright?” you placed your hands on your hips. “don’t we wanna see some cute little fishies and butterflies?!”

“yeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the babies cheered excitedly, each of them immediately returning to their designated spots in two lines as you grabbed your line leaders tiny hands and started the walk down the grassy field to the sanctuary.

“lemme help ya with one line baby—” katsuki went to grab one of your line leaders hands until they burst into a crying fit.

“no! no! i wanna hold miss y/n’s hand!”

katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “what’s so bad about me hah?”

“you’re ugly! miss y/n is pretty!”

the rest of the kids ruptured, laughing as katsuki sent death glares to a literal child, about to spout something nasty until his eyes flickered to your pleading face, his muscles instantly relaxing as he casted his gaze to the ground with a grumble.

you giggled and gave him a sweet kiss to his cheek in gratitude, his face flushing as he eyed your deep blue overalls and pinky shirt and the way your sunglasses sat pretty in your hair on top of your head.

“what honey?” you tilted your head.

“none of your business.”

you snickered and nudged your shoulder with his, looking over at milo from somewhere in the line to make sure he was okay before walking up the front gates of the sanctuary.

the wildlife guide met you once you all were cleared and inside the greenhouse, your kids absolutely restless as they ‘listened’ to whatever the guide had to say and just wanting to break free and run around to look at all of the fishies and butterflies like you had promised, and you not even listening either as you drooled over the way katsuki’s muscles looked under his t-shirt.

“any questions sweetheart?”

“huh?” your eyes snapped to the guide, cheeks pink as you quickly shook your head. “oh! no not at all! thank you ma’am!”

“alrighty then! just please make sure to tell your students—”

suddenly your two perfect lines broke apart as the kids started running around and pointing at fluttering butterflies and screaming, the guide looking like she’d seen a ghost as the usual quiet and serene sanctuary was now the epitome of noise.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry—” you guiltily apologized. “my kids will settle down they’re just excited is all…”

the guide kindly waved you off before walking back to the main office, you turning and expecting to see katsuki standing next to you, but faltering once you saw he was on the other side and pulling one of your kids down that had climbed up the gates of one of the sanctuaries closed off exhibits.

“oh god..” you mumbled, about to make your way over until you spotted milo in a corner alone, staring at one of the koi ponds.

“milo?” you called softly, walking up to him.

your heart sank once he turned and you saw his little tear filled eyes and wobbling lip.

“oh no!” you gasped, crouching down and taking his tiny hands in yours. “what’s wrong my love? are you okay? is it too hot?”

you pushed some of his spiky blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead as he shook his head.

“i can’t draw!” he sniffled. “and the koi fishies keep moving…”

your shoulders relaxed in relief.

“that’s okay!” you took his journal and pencil, wiping his wet cheeks as you smiled sweetly. “as long as we’re patient with the fishies, they’ll swim back and you can draw them again!”

you opened his journal and flipped to a new blank page, the both of you waiting quietly until a big chubby koi fish swam by.

“there!” milo whispered and pointed, and you quickly drew what you could, just making out the shape of the body before it disappeared again.

“and now we wait!” you grinned up at him. “the fishy will come back around and you’ll be able to draw it again.”

“kayyy!!”

“and you can draw milo. i’ve seen your artwork in class, remember? you always get a gold star!”

he giggled. “i do miss pretty!”

you ran a soothing hand over his back before passing his journal back.

“now you try honey—”

“i love you.”

you froze and looked up, katsuki standing there with a sincere and vulnerable look in his eye.

you stood from your crouched position and looked at him wide eyed.

“i’m not— i’m not good at this kinda shit at all and i always say somethin’ dumb but i do.”

“kats—”

“and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it but i tried to make it obvious with my stupid shaped fruits n’ shit… and i always thought you kinda just knew…”

milo was too busy focusing on catching glimpses of the koi fish to draw with his tongue peeking out to even realize what was going on next to him.

“you’re so patient baby. the way you are with me… the way you are with my kid. i need that in my life and i can’t live without it at this point…” he spoke genuinely. “your fuckin’ fault.”

you giggled and covered your face with your hands, face hot to the touch and bashful at everything he was telling you.

“come here.”

you listened and walked forward, dropping your arms as you wrapped them around his abdomen and his around your head, squishing you in his big chest as he propped his chin up.

“do you love me too or what.” he frowned. “cause if not this is shitty and embarrassing—”

“no i do!” you giggled, pulling away and giving him a cheeky smile. “i do kats you know that… i love you. so much.”

he smiled and pecked your lips. “good, miss pretty.”

katsuki had heard the entire conversation you had with his son, your words seeping with such tenderness and care, and he almost passed the fuck out when he thought about how much of a blessing you were, something he’d be a fool not to snatch up and take as he nearly fucking proposed to you in the middle of the sanctuary like an idiot, not knowing at all how a person that pissed people off for a living was loved by a woman who was the definition of pure.

because how the fuck did an angry dunce like him, get lucky with an angel like you?

“oh my god that dumbass kid is climbin’ the fence again— oi!”

katsuki quickly kissed your cheek before flying to the other side of the sanctuary, you doubling over in laughter as you watched him fight and tug and pull, your student not budging at all whatsoever and the rest of the kids laughing at how red katsuki was getting in the face.

“miss pretty!” milo tugged at your overalls, and you looked down to see him holding up his open journal, a cute wobbly sketch of a koi fish on the page as he smiled big. “i drew it! do you like it?!”

“wow milo!” you gushed, crouching down to his level and taking the journal, examining his artwork. “this is beautiful my love! see? i knew you could do it!”

“thank youuu!” he responded sweetly, his little cheeks blushing as he looked at you like he had another thing he wanted to say.

you tilted your head. “do you wanna tell me something else?”

“yeaaahhh.” he dragged. “please love my dad… i know he’s mean but— but he doesn’t mean it!”

your eyes softened as milo looked down at his shoes.

“and love me too… because i want you to be my new mommy…”

you quickly blinked back tears as to not alarm milo, surprisingly successful at preventing them from slipping down your face.

“i do love your dad honey… and you. the both of you i love so so much.”

he beamed. “really?!”

you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “and i thought i was already your mommy milo!”

the little man gasped and flung his arms around your neck.

“YAAAYYY!” he yelled. “miss pretty is my mommy! i have a mommy now!”

ever since you came into katsuki’s life, his way of living materialized into something completely different.

because now instead of his house being plain and boring and organized from top to bottom without a single thing out of place— it was warm now… happy. and never went a day without smelling like cookies and vanilla as you and katsuki baked with milo any chance you could, set up more pillow forts and tents with starry ceilings, and slept with milo in his room as he snored content in his little bed, you sprawled directly on top of katsuki like he always had you as you both every day intended to leave after putting his son to rest, but ending up falling asleep on the floor each time.

the three of you were a little family.

and katsuki didn’t know why he hated messes so much in the first place.

because mess signified that something had been there, something sunny and tender, something that signified family as you peppered kisses over both your boys’ faces everyday and katsuki drowning you in his rough ones— your man squeezing you so tight all of the time and anywhere, as milo wasn’t just his son now but yours too as you took him to the park or to the aquarium on your days off, the three of you gently living as both of milo’s small hands were occupied now instead of just one.

katsuki’s life looked like it had been generously cherished and lived in for a change.

and katsuki bakugo loved messes.

so as long as they were from you.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever

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voidlevy2 · 9 months ago

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voidlevy2 · 10 months ago

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💜7 mins in Heaven: The Completed Series💙

Summary: College parties are supposed to be an experience of a lifetime. When one game of spin the bottle puts you in a closet with the most well-known player on campus, Touya, your experience is less than impressive. Not wanting to be next on his hit-list, you turn him down, but life isn't so forgiving. An unfortunate mishap leaves you temporarily dorm-less which gives someone else the opportunity to pursue you...

Now tossed into his friend group, feelings become confusing and complicated as the two of them make it hard for you to decide. Secrets of their pasts are revealed which leaves you questioning their motives but Touya is determined to show you that his lifetime experience changed when the closet door closed.

And for him, it only took 7 minutes.

💜 Part 1 💙

💜 Part 2 💙 Warnings: suggestive lemon

💜 Part 3 💙

💜 Part 4 💙

💜 Part 5 💙

💜 Part 6 💙

💜 Part 7 💙 Warnings: mention of underaged drinking / lemon

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voidlevy2 · 11 months ago

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missed this series sm!!! cant wait for it to continue

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝟒/? — 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Anthony is fighting for his life trying to further understand your sudden unexplainable ghost locking. In need to try and garner more answers, the four of you head back to the place where the mess all started, only to be stopped by various accounts of old memories.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): mentions of amnesia, death, angst, flashbacks, mentions of domestic violence, an insight on y/n's parents, slight brief mention of murder, quill, and Barnes in a flashback, slight mention of blood.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5,020

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! Surprise this series might be longer than 4 parts now. Continue to join me on this journey where I'm trying to navigate this series towards a good ending lmfao

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You had tried to squeeze his hand. As you sunk into the back of your mind, you found yourself incapable of moving. You tried to scream for him but your mouth felt glued shut. Your body was stiff as a board as your eyes stared past Anthony’s form.

If you could have seen his face. Fear stricken, his eyes widened as he sat up on his knees, vividly shaking you and pressing light taps to your cheeks. Dread and confusion glossed over his eyes seeing a white milky glaze form over your y/e/c eyes again.

“Y/n? Hey, no, no. Y/n, can you hear me?” He gripped your face. He was shouting at you as your body locked itself out of nowhere. You were fine. You were fine just a second ago. You only closed your eyes for a second then this happened. He was panicking. The confident esteemed leader of Lockwood & Co was nowhere to be found. A scared boy feeling helpless and vulnerable as he screamed for the girl he held feelings for took his place. “L-Lucy!” His voice cracked as he pressed your face into the crook of his neck. His body shook as tears fell harshly down his face. He didn’t know what to do. “Lucy!” He cried. He pulled your face back to look at you. His hands caressed your face, hoping to bring you back from whatever supernatural occurrence this was. “G-George!”

Footsteps pounded up the staircases. One after the other until the attic door burst open hitting the hall harshly with a bang. “Lockwood?” Lucy and George stopped as they stepped onto the landing. Lucy's heart clenched as she saw the scene before her. Her brows furrowed with confusion as she rushed forward to inspect the situation. Anthony let up his grip on you, letting Lucy hold you this time. He slumped back against the bed frame railing, running his hands through his hair, he was now starting to hyperventilate. George dropped down too, his eyes observing the white milky glaze you adorned during your ghost lock state with questions.

“Lockwood what happened?!” Lucy's bulging eyes cast onto him. She breathed through her mouth, gently holding your locked state. She only grew more anxious when he didn’t respond. He closed his eyes, clutching at his chest through his dress shirt. “Anthony!” She reached forward gripped onto his tie and shifted. Pulling him into a sitting position. “What happened?”

“We- We were just talking…only talking, swear!” He cried out. He was a weeping mess. Lucy looked back at you. Scared and curious as to how this could be.

“Y/n, can you hear me?” Lucy patted your face. “Why’s this happening?!” She looked off to George for an answer. George shrugged, feeling helpless in this matter. He too knew so little about the subject of coming out of being ghost locked…only to go back into ghost lock again? It was very confusing. You were the one and only first person to awaken out of a ghost lock comatose. There was still so much to learn about this temporary state. So many questions he wanted answers. The first was why you fell back into your previous state.

“Please, please!” Anthony’s hands still gripped onto yours.

“Y/n, can you hear me?”

You could, that’s what scared you even more as the sudden flashes of memories hit you like a truck.

“We’re hardly making ends meet to keep this bloody roof over our heads, now you want to make matters worse and leave for a job you haven’t even secured yet?” An image of a tall woman shouting at a man with a beard flooded your frontal lobe.

“I’m in the process of sealing this contract. I just need to leave for the trip and then we’ll be able to stop worrying about missing deadlines, and missing payments on bills. I’m doing this for us!” The man declared.

“No, you’re doing this for yourself. No one asked this of you. I certainly did not-“

“I thought I was doing the right thing!”

“You absolute idiot. You of all people would think so blindly especially with this epidemic. Our home is on the verge of being taken from us, do you not understand?!” You hid behind the corner you peeled through. “You stupid son of-“ You peeked around again to find the woman holding one side of her face. The loud smack wasn’t lost on you. You glower in fear, scared of what will happen next.

“I’m doing this for us…” The man’s voice sighed heavily. “You’re ungrateful you know that?” He shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” The woman shrinks into herself. Arms folded over her chest as she backed away from the man.

“Yeah, you will be once I’m done with you.”

“No, no, no, please, please!”

“Y/n!” Your child shelf turned her head, finding interest in the new voice that called out for her. You looked back to the couple fighting then turned and ran out the front door.

“Y/n, can you hear me?” Tears started to form in her eyes. “We-We need to call Barnes. DEPRAC. Somebody!” Lucy shook her head.

“You have to wake up. Please…” Anthony begged, sitting up on his knees again. Head titled as he hoped for the color to come back to your eyes again.

“Y/n? Deary, what are you doing out here so late?” The woman looked beyond the threshold, cupping the back of your head as you lunged forward to hug her jean-clad legs. She expected someone, rather your parents, to show up, though she saw no one out on the streets late at night. They were all abiding by the curfew that was set. “Let’s get you inside, yeah.” She ushered your smaller self in. She helped you shrug your coat off. Hanging it high above on the hooks, out of your reach.

“Celia darling, who was at the door?” A nice well kept looking man walked into your line of sight. A cup of tea in his hands, though he paused mid-sip seeing you grace his front entrance.

“Y/n?” He questioned you, though your expressionless demeanor only further made him curious. “What a pleasant surprise…” He set his mug down and came over, crouching down to your level. “What’s brought you over to visit the Lockwoods, huh?” Your eyes meet his eyes for a brief second, then you say.

“He hit her. He hit mumma, again.”

Celia and Donald lock eyes before Celia comes to crouch down in front of you too. “Where'd he hit her? You don’t have to show us. You can just tell us.” Though she offered a faint smirk, you already raised your hand. Demonstrating the slap you witnessed happen, to yourself, though much more delicate. Celia closed her eyes. Then braved a smile. Reaching out to grab your tiny hands. “Would you like to bunk with Anthony tonight or Jessica? Take your pick, we won’t judge, Jessica tends to snore though.” Her heart swelled hearing you emit a laugh. “Anthony, right?” You nodded. “Yeah alright, come on, let’s get you settled. Have you eaten at all?” One shake of your head confirmed her worst thoughts. “We made a broth, though if you're anything like Anthony, he’s quite the picky eater. Won't ever touch his vegetables.”

“I’m not picky.” You smiled up at the woman. Her shoulders slumped, a faint laugh failing past her lips. She felt for you, though as a mother always, she took you in as her own.

“Alright, my darling. Sit here, yeah.” She pulled out your chair for you. “Donald, would you tell Anthony to come here!” She called out the kitchen door. “Now, would you like the froggy bowl or the cool spider one?” She raised the spider bowl to her lips as if to tell you a secret. “Don’t tell Anthony, but he likes the froggy one.”

“The spider one.” You point to him.

“The spider one. I knew you had great taste!” She pointed at you.

“Y/n?” You both turned toward the source of the sound. A younger Anthony walking into the kitchen appeared.

“Anthony!” You exclaimed getting up from your seat. You went over and hugged him. His arms embrace you as well. You pulled back with a smile. “You have to wake up.”

“What?” You flinch, confused.

“Y/n, you need to wake up. Please wake up- Wake up-“

“Y/n wake up-“ Your sudden gasp startled the three of them. They flinch back as you come to. Your body falling forward. Your muscles were tingling from having not moved for a bit. Though if it hadn’t been for Lucy you would have fallen face first.

“Oh my god!” Lucy cried as you were still trying to grasp for air. You kicked your feet, as a panic started to rise within you. You look around as your once sudden blurry vision clears over. The dim orange light from your lights lighting up the room and the face in front of you. You clutch onto Lucy as your eyes dart across every surface, every spot in the room, then to Anthony and George, then up to Lucy. You raise your right arm to cup one side of her face. Your eyes gloss over with tears.

Anthony reached forward, culling the back of your head and pressing his head against yours, both of you breathless.

“Oh thank god!” His face pinches. He pulls back, a light gasped laugh emits from his lips. Your eyes return to their original shade. “Your eyes!” However, the happiness and relief did not last long as you let out a faint whimper. You hold onto Lucy and Anthony, needing to feel a human touch. The memory was still very prominent in your mind, but you didn’t want to elaborate on it just now. You were still trying to process what the fuck just happened to you.

“I could hear you…I could hear you.” Your face scrunched as tears spilled down your face. “But I couldn’t move.”

“You’re okay now. You're okay now. I promise.” Anthony pressed a kiss to your temple. “It's over. It’s over...”

“This is way above our pay grade…” George held onto your ankle.

“What’s happening to me?” You slump back into Lucy’s arms.

“I don’t know…but we’re gonna figure it out.” He looks at Lucy and George, nodding.

You hadn’t thought much about following Anthony, Lucy, and George into a random house blindly. Anthony had claimed it was a necessary means to hopefully trigger some of your lost memories. But in other terms, he also said, he was hoping for answers about what may be causing you to have survived being ghost-locked. You had strolled up alongside him as the four of you walked down the pavement. Your furrowed brows and tense shoulders weren’t lost on him when he looked over at you, trying to read you. "What is it?" You look over at him, brows raised. Your mouth opened and closed as he waited patiently, expectedly. It had barely been a full day and it amazed you how well he saw right through you.

"When I froze up again earlier...I saw a memory of some sort." You frowned. "I don't know what to make of it truly."

Anthony listened intently as you spoke, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, as he followed the sidewalk alongside you. He kept his stride to match yours as you walked, his eyes focused on your face, taking in every detail. When you mentioned the memory you had seen, his expression shifted to one of concern and confusion. Anthony paused for a moment, his steps slowing.

"A memory? What did you see?" He asked quietly.

"You, me...this older couple. Though seeing the resemblance it's not hard to assume as such..." You paused then looked over at him. "I think I saw your parents. The memory unsettled me, there was this other couple there two...my parents I think. I ran off to your house. Your mother opened the door to find me crying. They let me spend the night with you..."

Anthony's expression softened even further, his eyebrows furrowing as you described the details of the memory. He listened intently, his focus entirely on your words. His heart aching at the memory you were suddenly recalling…remembering but still unsure of it. He went to say something but you spoke up again.

“I can’t remember them, my parents. I felt safe when your parents popped up in my mind, but the other two…” You shook your head. “It was like I couldn’t breathe.”

He reached forward to grasp your hand. “As insensitive as it may sound. I’m glad you didn’t because they were the worst people, but selfishly, I don’t hold everything against them…they gave me you.” He grinned wholeheartedly, raising your hand to kiss the back of your hand. “It’s alright if you don’t remember them. I’d prefer it, and as for the memory alone. You were vulnerable and scared, I think you conjured up the memory for it to bring you comfort from what it sounds like…You were in search of the comfort that was given to you willingly and openly.”

“Your parents.” You breathed out a laugh, tears brimming your waterline.

“My parents…” Anthony laughed softly with you. Anthony noticed your absence, frowning. He reached forward once again, raising a hand to wipe a tear cascading down your cheek. He leaned down, trying to look at your face. “Hey…look at me.” You had been looking down at your shoes, when he gripped the hand that he held. “I’m gonna fix this.” He promised.

You looked into his eyes as he spoke, the emotions swirling in his own eyes as he offered a comforting smile. He wanted nothing more than to see the frown on your lips disappear, but he knew the memories weren't as easy to recall as he had hoped.

"I'm terrified." You nodded as you looked over to Lucy and George stood by, watching you and Anthony talk. "What if I never gain my memories back? Would you be able to live with it, having to restart anew with me? I can see it on you, it's eating you alive. It bothers you that you don't have your best friend back. What if that girl never truly comes back-"

“Don’t.” He cut you off, his voice firm and determined. He wasn't going to let you go down the rabbit hole of doubt and what-ifs. Anthony reached forward with both hands to cup your face, holding your gaze with his own. “Don’t you dare question that for a second? Of course, I’ll be able to live with it. You’re in front of me now.” He took a sharp breath. “I don’t care if you can’t remember a single bloody memory. You’re here, now. That's all that matters.”

"You may be able to, but I don't think I would. I can't do that to you, to Lucy, and George. You all lost me and I can't bring her back to you-" You shook your head trying to get out of Anthony's grasp. You had pulled away and hadn't realized you had stepped out onto the road.

"That’s what you’re worried about?!" He exclaimed, stepping forward off the curb to follow you. "We didn’t lose you. You’re still here! Right in front of me!" Anthony exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration and concern. "Just because you can’t remember, that doesn’t change you." He reached forward, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you back onto the sidewalk, away from the road. You wouldn’t give in to him though. You stepped back again.

"You're not getting it!" You exclaim.

Anthony clenched his jaw, his emotions building up inside him. "What am I not getting, huh? That you're doubting yourself because you don't remember? That you feel guilt about something you have no control over? That you're trying to distance yourself from us because you think you're doing us a favor?!" He huffed. "You're right, I don't get it."

Anthony had looked away. It had been a mere moment, but it suddenly had tackled you straight into the chest when you gasped out loud for air. Your arms fall at your sides right as your body stiffens and your irises glaze over.

“You’re right, I don't get it.” A young Anthony huffs out in annoyance as you curl in on yourself. “You cannot go back there. Are you mad?”

You pout as you look down at your shoes. “I need my inhaler and more clothes.”

“My parents can get you all new stuff.”

“I don’t want new stuff, I want my stuff. I want my bear and my trinkets. They’re all in my chest under my bed. I’d be in and out, they won’t notice or hear me.” You plead.

“No, I won’t let you. I don’t want them to hurt you-”

“Anthony!” Lucy screamed seeing a speeding car grow closer.

"Y/n?" He repeated your name, louder this time. His tone was a bit panicky as he moved closer to you, his hands extended. One look at your eyes told him everything he needed to know. “Oh god…” He gasped as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back safely onto the pavement. He tripped over his feet in the process bringing you down with him. Your face was buried into his chest. He sat up quickly as George and Lucy rushed over.

Lucy hit the ground without a second thought. Helping Anthony sit you upright. “Y/n can you hear us?” Lucy pleaded as he held your face. She gasped feeling the temperature of your skin. “She’s freezing.”

George had knelt too, keeping his eye on Anthony who looked like he was about to throw up. "Lockwood?" Lucy stopped looking at you and looked at Anthony.

"Lockwood, you alright?" Lucy frowned seeing his dazed look.

“I’m here.” He mumbled. His hands shook, feeling your body tremble in his arms. He gently placed his hand across the back of your head. Pressing against his chest, he could feel your heart thump rapidly, as tears filled his eyes.

George had noticed the look in Anthony's eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder. Anthony looked up at him with wide panicked eyes, and his bottom lip quivered. "That’s two!" His words sounded raspy and choked. "Why is this happening to her?”

"What do we know so far?" Lucy chimed in, keeping her hand on you.

Anthony breathed out shakily, taking a deep breath to compose himself. He closed his eyes, trying to recall all the information he had gathered to help piece your memories together.

"T-The first time this happened we were here, at the house." Anthony nodded off to the house on the corner they had yet to reach. "She sacrificed herself for me."

"Second time?" George questioned.

"We were talking, talking about her getting her memories back. She was scared, she said it felt like she was replacing someone else. That nothing felt familiar to her." Anthony looked down at your stiff form. "She recalled a memory though that's what we were talking about just a while ago."

"About?" George raised his brow. "What?" When he noticed the shift and uneasiness in Lockwood's demeanor.

"It's not pleasant."

"Out with it, it'll be alright." Lucy caressed your hand slowly.

"Y/n's father used to beat down on her mother some nights. Y/n would run to ours after curfew was set. She knew the risks but anywhere else was safer for her than in her own home. My parents would always answer the door to her crying and my mother would send my dad to try and calm hers. She's continued staying with us since that night. Her father ended up kil-"

"You don't need to tell us..." Lucy placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a grim smile.

"She recalled bits and pieces...so I don't think she truly remembers anything of them."

"What triggered this ghost lock then?" George tilted his head in time to catch a tear spill down your eye. He reached forward, hesitating at first before wiping it.

"It was probably the arguing." Anthony's guilt began eating at him. “I’m not too sure anymore.”

"In theory…all of this could be the leading cause of words or traces she’s said or heard in the past..."

"Perhaps George, but that still doesn't explain why it's happening in the first place-"

Your sudden gasp had startled them.

"She’s back!" George asked, noticing that your eyes seemed to have returned to normal.

Lucy quickly moved her attention to your face, her hands gently cupping your face, tilting it toward hers, searching your eyes. They were still a little distant but at least they weren't glazing over as before. Your body still trembled against Anthony's chest crying. Anthony's hands wrapped more firmly around your form, his eyes fixed on your face as you regained consciousness.

"Oh thank god." He exhaled, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. "You're alright. You're right here." His voice was shaky, relief and worry lacing his every word. “We’ve got you.”

Lucy and George exchanged looks, each silently sharing the same worried expression.

"Don't let me go back under. Don't let me go back under." You cried, shaking your head. You were tired, your breathing labored.

Anthony's heart ached as he heard your words, his arms tightening around you, pulling you closer to his chest. He ran his hand over your hair, attempting to soothe your distress.

"We won't, we won't. You're right here with us; it's over now." He whispered in your ear, his voice shaking as he spoke. "Just breathe," He whispered, his voice gentle and calming. "Listen to my heartbeat. You're safe now. You're safe with us." He continued to run his hand through your hair, the other hand held you tightly against him, his grip not loosening.

“Y/n what memory did you see?” George rubbed your shoulder softly. “What did you hear?”

“George, not right now!” Anthony pressed as he comforted your cries.

“It’ll answer the theory.”

“Not now!”

“But it’s better if she tells us-”

“George-”

“You’re right, I don't get it. You cannot go back there. Are you mad? I need my inhaler and more clothes. My parents can get you all new stuff. I don’t want new stuff, I want my stuff. I want my bear and my trinkets. They’re all in my chest under my bed. I’d be in and out, they won’t notice or hear me. No, I won’t let you. I don’t want them to hurt you-” You recited the memory. Your voice all leveled out in one unsettling monotone tone.

“Y/n you don’t need to tell us-” Anthony protested.

“-It was like a dream, but the memory doesn’t feel like it's a part of me.”

The silence that followed your sudden recitation was deafening. Anthony’s grip on you tightened, his chest now rising and falling heavily under you as he breathed.

Lucy and George exchanged solemn glances, both of them appearing shocked by the sudden change in your demeanor.

"Y/n..." Lucy whispered your name, as Anthony’s hand gently cupped the side of your face, attempting to pull you back to the present. “You don’t have to do this. We can turn around right now and head home.”

“No, no we’ve made it this far already. What good would turning around now do us?”

“We don’t want to force anything on you.” George knelt to be at eye level with you.

“Too late Georgie…” You muster a sad grimace.

“You haven’t called me that in a while.” George releases a happy breath.

“Y/n…” Anthony calls out your name to gather your attention. You turn to meet his weary gaze. “You say the word and we’ll head back home.”

“We already made the trip here. What more harm can going inside do to me? Maybe we’ll get the answers we’ve been looking for. Maybe then you can fix me.” You look at your teammates, at your small family who stuck with you through and through.

Anthony's heart was torn between wanting to shield you from further pain and believing that pushing forward might lead to the revelations you had all been searching for.

“We don’t have to do this right now.” Anthony protested, his voice quivering slightly. "We can wait. We-” But before he could continue, George interrupted him.

"Lockwood...we've got to try something."

Anthony's eyes locked on yours, his mind grappling with the weight of the decision. The memories that lay dormant within those walls threatened to break free and consume him, to take him back to the place he dreaded most. You were waiting on his final say, his final word of approval to venture forward into the house where he believed he truly lost everything that meant the world to him. Where he thought he truly lost the will to live. But he knew that George was right. They needed answers. Taking a deep breath, he clenched his jaw, his expression stoic and resolute. “Alright, but if it’s too much for you, I’m rushing you out of there.” You nodded at him, pushing off the pavement with the help of Lucy. Lockwood had half a mind now, gaining flashes of the past. Faint whispers of how insanely distraught he was that night.

You held onto his hand as you four approached the door. It was only a matter of minutes before you made the courageous act of turning the knob and pushing past the threshold. The dark cold house welcomes your arrival. You shivered at the shift of temperatures.

“Lockwood, Lockwood. Tony.” Anthony blinked back his tears as he came back too. “We’ve got to take her now Tony.” Lockwood had only curled your frozen frame further into his chest. Lucy stepped in to be the mediator.

“Anthony it’s alright. Quill gots her now.” Lucy placed her hand on his shoulder bringing him to the present again. Anthony only blinked as he looked down at your milky glazed eyes.

“How long he’s been like this?” Quill’s voice felt distant, muffled. Like water surfaced over his sunken form.

“Since eight. We got here around six…”

“It’s two in the morning now…God, I’m sorry we couldn’t get here quicker. You made the right move to call us. I’m just glad you got rid of the visitor in time. Otherwise, who knows what we could have found when we got here.” Quill looked over at the approaching footsteps at the threshold. Barnes sighed as he took in the sight of Lockwood and you. He closed his eyes at the sight and then went to say.

“Any luck?”

“Give him a minute…” Lucy pleaded sadly.

“Tony, I’ll be as gentle with her down the stairs, swear on it.” Quill dipped his head to try and meet his eyes. Anthony was barely present to muster the energy to speak. “We’re here now…we can help her.”

“You can’t…” Anthony mumbled. He reflected that of a broken child.

“Lockwood they got her now…we can help-” Lucy was cut off by Barnes's approach.

“Kid…hey look at me.” Barnes' voice was hard, but there was a hint of softness. Anthony slowly lifted his gaze to meet Barnes's, his eyes weary and heavy with worry. He looked small, broken, and exhausted, like a lost child. Barnes knelt before him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. Anthony's hand was still wrapped around your form, holding onto you as if his life depended on it. "Lockwood," Barnes spoke gently, his voice firm yet sympathetic. "You did the right thing calling us. We're here now, and we can help her. You can't help her if she's not safe."

Barnes gestured towards your limp form, still clutched in Anthony's tight embrace. Anthony's eyes followed his motion, his expression one of pain and resignation. "We got her kid…we got her.”

"She sacrificed herself for me..."

Barnes sighed, his expression softening as he met Anthony's tired gaze.

"I know, kid. I know." He patted Anthony's shoulder comfortingly. "But you can't help her if you don't let go of her."

“She sacrificed herself, it should’ve been me.” Anthony's grip on you tightened instinctively as if he couldn't bear to let you go. Barnes could see the internal struggle he was enduring, the pain etched on his face.

Barnes nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "I know…but she did it to keep you safe. And now it's our turn to keep her safe." His grip on Anthony's shoulder tightened slightly, a firm, grounding presence as he locked eyes with him. "You can't help her if she's stuck here, Lockwood."

"I can't...I can't let her go."

Barnes' expression softened even further at Anthony's words, the pain in his voice was palpable. He squeezed his shoulder gently, a reassuring gesture.

“You’re not letting her go, you’re letting us help her,” Barnes stated firmly, his voice strained with concern. “Right now, she needs medical attention and she needs it stat. And she won’t get it if you sit here frozen like a statue. It’s gonna be alright, son.”

"No, it's not. I've lost her." A tear slid down his cheek as he relented and let Quill and the paramedics place you on a stretcher and carry you downstairs and out into the paramedics. He looked down at his hands noticing a faint trace of your blood left behind on his left fingertips.

“She was bleeding…” Anthony's brows furrowed in thought.

“What?” Lucy at his hands.

“She was cut…Did you see a wound on her anywhere?” He finally looked up, alert and wary.

“No. Lockwood?” Lucy cocked her head in question.

“I didn’t see a cut on her…” Anthony mumbled to himself.

“It was probably just a scratch.” George shrugged it off.

Yeah, just a scratch, he thought.

Lockwood’s heart clenched as you released a shuddered breath, raised your hand at the very moment, and rubbed at a spot below and behind your earlobe.

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voidlevy2 · 11 months ago

Text

Teenage Dirtbag...

eddie munson x femcheerleader!reader

word count: [30.7k] not proof-read sorry

warnings: no use of y/n (brief mention of name "noelle" inspired by Wheatus) jason being an asshole bf (what's new?), violence, blood, cursing, a bit of angst close to the end, happy ending though (!!!), reader and eddie being oblivious to their feelings, mentions of verbal arguments (jason and reader), reader (18) + eddie (19), nudity but not sexually, a lot of pining....please let me know if I forgot any!!!

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself as Mr. Smith pulled your name from the jar and cheerfully ushered you in front of the class.

A held a tight smile widened on your face while you pushed yourself out of your chair and hurried up to the board wanting to get this over with. Mindlessly, your fingers fidgeted with each other before looking up at your classmates staring at you.

You started off with your name and hurried hello before diving into the prompt that all the students before you had to answer, “my favorite color is pink…but I also like black, so I guess I should say my two favorite colors.” mouth babbling while you corrected yourself and waved your hands around, telling the class to ignore you

“…and um the extracurricular activity I’m a part of is cheer,” the hands you had clasped together behind you undid themselves, pointing at your cheer green and orange uniform.

“You forgot your fun fact.” Your teacher reminded and internally you cursed yourself, quickly spitting out the first thing that came to mind.

“My name was actually supposed to be Noelle since I’m born in December, but my parents they uh — I guess they didn’t like it too much, so I got the name I have now.” You revealed stiffly, turning to your teacher, who smiled and nodded, signaling you to take a seat.

“Ok next we have….”

You let out a small sigh once you sat down and turned your attention to the next student, who was sharing a little about themselves before feeling a tap on your left shoulder. His smile and tall hair greeted your surprised eyes, seeing it was Eddie Munson himself interacting with you. It was his third and hopefully last senior year so you’ve seen his face and heard his voice for the last couple of years but never did you once initiate a conversation with him—until today since you two had the same class for the first time.

“Nice to meet you, Noelle… y’got a pencil I could borrow?” Your eyes traveled to his desk where a notebook full of doodles was spread open with a small piece of broken lead.

Your head nodded, reaching for your pencil case. “You’re Eddie, right?”

He hummed patiently, watching you pick out a red pencil just for him, remembering he had shared his favorite color with the class a few moments ago. It was your first and most likely not the last interactions with the guy, but it went pleasantly well considering your vastly differing social status.

“I like your pick.” pointing at his neckline with the pencil where a beaded chain and guitar pick hung perfectly, then passing it to him.

He bowed his head in thankfulness and sat back in his chair, inspecting you. Half of your hair pulled into a ponytail with a green ribbon tied off into a bow and the rest falling down your shoulders. Your own neckline was complimented with a snowflake necklace paired with some matching earrings.

“Nice jewelry, snowflake.” He chuckled, copying your motion and pointing the pencil at the center of your chest where the pendant fell.

“Snowflake.” It was odd. No one ever called you that and you never expected Munson out of all people to, but it sounded nice coming from his lips.

Despite your inner thinking, you laughed faintly, taking the compliment before turning around and listening to the rest of your classmates’ introductions.

Another hour and a half was spent listening to your classmates awkwardly introduce themselves, followed by Mr. Smith going over the classes’ expectation for the school year. A few times, you would glance back to see Eddie in his own world, continuing to scribble and write notes to himself in that black leather notebook. Lunch finally came around and you were thankful that the classroom wasn’t too far from the cafeteria, so you were able to get in line before it got too busy.

Gripping the red tray tightly, you grabbed a few items before a voice behind you spoke. “Hey you’re Carvers, girl, right?” He was a freshman sporting a letterman jacket and green track pants looking your way.

His face was recognizable, and you smiled, “Yeah, and you’re Lucas! Friends with Nancy’s brother?” You proposed, following the line as you picked up an Apple

“Yup, that’s me!” He gave you a toothy smile.

“Hows your first day as a freshie?” You spoke curiously, waiting for him as he picked up a carton of milk and you both made your way to the jock and cheerleader table.

“Alright, but I’d much rather be sitting with my friends over there.” He lifted his head towards another table across the cafeteria. You noticed the curly-headed boy Dustin and the tall one Mike, who sat with the so-called freaks with Eddie Munson, sat head of the table.

“…but you know how Jason can get…don’t want him finding out I’m in Hellfire or I’m off the team—you wouldn’t tell him right?” He leaned closer to you nervously, almost with a regrettable tone, but your reassuring smile eased his concerns as you shook your head.

“Of course not, I can keep a secret, y’know. I’ll see you around!” You patted his back as he took a seat and you snuck up beside your boyfriend, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey!” He grinned at you, pecking your lips immediately.

“Gonna sit?” He scooted to make some space next to him and you shook your head.

“I’m actually gonna go sit with Nance and Robin. I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to them all summer, so I think it’s good I catch up with them.” Your eyes tilted to the two girls sitting a few tables away all by themselves before turning back to Jason.

“Dont you want to sit with the other cheerleaders? You know, your kinda group?” It was a question, but it sounded like more of a demand, nevertheless you declined.

You peered down the side of the table seeing all the other girls conversing among themselves and shook your head, “You know they don’t really enjoy my company. I’ll just catch up with you all later!” You gave him another small peck on the lips before making your way over to your friends.

You knew Robin and Nancy since freshman year, sharing some classes together with each of them, but it wasn’t until junior year that the three of you formed some type of friendship. You all had news-writing together and instantly clicked and essentially became a trio for every project. The two girls were terribly wrong about their perception of you as you were a cheerleader from the beginning, so they thought you’d be like the rest if them.

Stuck up, hypocritical, and an asshole.

Needless to say, you surprised them with your brains, beauty, and charm, but what wasn’t surprising was the asshole boyfriend you had. They found it hard to believe that a girl like you had such a disgraceful boyfriend for the last year.

“Lookie cookie if it isn’t our favorite cheerleader!” Robin shrieked, nudging Nance as you got closer enough to hear, causing you to roll your eyes lovingly.

“Hello to you too, Buckley.” Setting down your tray and reaching over to give each of them a small hug.

“How was your summer?” Nancy asked, watching you take a seat and plunge the straw into your juice box, taking a sip before answering.

“Its was great, had a fun time in Florida with my family and now we’re back in this hellhole.” You sighed, looking around at the depressing cafeteria.

“What about you guys?” You took a bite out of your Turkey sandwich and listened to them.

“Got a job at the Family Video with Harrington—you remember him, right?”

“How can I forget about Mr. Hair himself?” You said, causing the girls to break out into laugher.

“Jonathan and I got summer jobs at Hawkins Press, but the men were total jerks! I swear they only saw me as a personal assistant…they never ever took anything I said seriously!” she wailed sadly, with a hint of irritation in her voice.

You grimaced, a warm hand coming up to rub her shoulder soothingly. Since knowing Nancy, everyone knew she was a passionate writer that took every aspect of her work seriously and to hear about her horrible experience made you feel terrible for her.

“I’m so sorry you had to put up with that, Nance—but hey, just know that me and Robin think you’re an amazing writer, anyone would be lucky to have you on their team.” Her mood lifted with your enthusiastic and genuine voice, a smile spread on her face and she mouthed a “thank you”

Robin voiced her agreement before turning to you and changing the topic. “You and jock boy still together, huh?”

You bit your lip and nodded, looking over at his table to see him in deep conversation with his teammates, “Yeah, we just made a year, actually.”

Robin rolled her eyes lightly, watching you keep your eyes on Jason’s body before turning back to give them your attention. Neither Nance nor her were fond of your boyfriend of choice, but they were glad that you weren’t such a dickwad like him. They just didn’t understand you two.

“He treating you good? Making you happy?” Nancy sought out, taking a bite of her salad.

“Yeah, yeah…he umm, actually got us tickets to go to a concert in the next couple of months.” You told them picking up your fork to toy with the peas sitting on the corner of your plate

“What band?” Robin asked, but her question fell on deaf ears as you continued to play with the wrinkly green veggies, stacking them on your fork.

“Helloooo, are you still with us?” Robin fluttered her hands in front of you, causing you to regain some sort of touch with reality.

“Sorry, what was that?” You shook your head and waited for them to repeat the question.

“What band are you and Jason going to see?” Nancy restated, and you cowered, not knowing if you should lie or fess up the truth.

Chewing your lip between your teeth caused your voice to be slightly muffled as you posed a question for the two, “Promise you won’t laugh?” Nance and Robin, who looked puzzled, nodded their heads in compliance.

“It’s a Christian concert—his parents actually bought the tickets after Jason told them that I wasn’t particularly the religious type.” You replied as they furrowed their brows, looked at each other, and snickered.

“Hey! You guys said you weren’t going to laugh!” Your foot stomped the floor lightly and voice whined, picking up a pea and chucking it at them as they dodged it and continued to giggle.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that we were expecting a band that you actually like! I don’t know, maybe ABBA, Madonna, hell even Bon Jovi!” Robin noted a few of your favorite artists that you adored over any church band out there.

“She has a point—I mean, it should at least be a band that you both like!” Nance defended Robin as they stared at you skeptically.

You shook them off and laughed a little. “Hey it’s always good to try something new, right? And you never know, maybe I’ll like church music and become a god-fearing girl that Jason loves.” You rolled your eyes freely, followed by your friends’ laughter.

Turning your head glancing over at Eddie’s table where he was standing eccentrically telling a story that captivated his friends and even you and you couldn’t even make out what he was saying. But you did see a flash of a smile that he sent your way as you waved at him somewhat before turning back to your friends.

“Who in the hell makes us run a mile on our first day back?” His breathless voice rang behind you on the track field.

The one and only Eddie Munson dressed in his same attire, ripped black skinny jeans, a pair of chucks, and his infamous Hellfire shirt. Sweat beading on his forehead and his already messy hair was frizzing up due to the humidity.

“Hiya Munson.” You smiled, slowing down your pace to run next to him as he caught his breath while keeping up a jog.

“Shit…hi snowflake, didn’t know we had gym together too.” He coughed out, looking at your change of clothing, which was a grey long sleeve, a pair of pink workout shorts, white reeboks, and some tube socks.

“You didn’t bring a change of clothes.” You giggled, watching him crack a smile despite the pain in his side.

“Wearing short shorts isn’t really metal, if you ask me.” He glared, massaging his side as you continued to keep up with his pace.

“Would be a lot more comfortable, though.” Your reply made him laugh through the agony.

“What lap are you on? Can’t believe I didn’t notice you.” His arms moved slightly at his sides, continuing to run, never minding the red dirt ruining his precious shoes.

“Second…well now third.” You breathed as you both passed the flag marker.

“I guess cheer really builds stamina, huh?” He quipped as you nodded, shifting your focus onto finishing in time.

But still you kept the conversation going, “What’d you think? We just dance around a look pretty all day?”

“Pretty much.” He answered as you nudged him slightly and shook your head.

For a second you were stuck on the fact that he basically called you pretty, but you threw the thought away realizing how stupid of you it was.

“Well, if you wanna get a good grade on our first assignment, you better speed it up, Munson, catch ya later.” You grinned, blindless ly waving behind you as your speeded picked up.

“See ya!” He shouted in this distance, finally taking the time to stop and huff out a much needed breath.

After a five-day school week, it was nice to have some relaxation on this Saturday with Jason. You practically begged him to take you to Family Video to see what movies you two would be watching for your little date night together. He wasn’t really the type to stray away from his usual schedule of playing golf and sitting at home watching repeat basketball games, but somehow you convinced him to change it up.

“Welcome to the Family Video! How can I—eeeek!” Robin’s sentence was cut off with her squeal as she saw you enter the store for the first time since she got a job there. She hopped over the counter to embrace you in a tight hug while you dropped Jason’s hand and hugged her back.

“Hey you!” You giggled, rubbing her back warmly before she pulled away and her eyes slid to Jason’s.

“Hi.” she said simply, giving him a half hearted waved that he didn’t return and instead laced your fingers back together.

As much as she wanted to call out his rude behavior, she shook it off, turning her attention towards you, “Anything specific you guys are looking for?” She inquired, leading you guys to the different aisles in the store.

“Ooo Dirty Dancing, by any chance? I know it’s popular, but hopefully you have it in?” You requested to Robin, who smirked and nodded, making her way to the back where she knew there was an extra tape that was just returned.

You felt a tugging on your hand and looked over at Jason, who gave you a conceded look. “Dirty Dancing, babe? Really?”

You pressed your eyebrows together and dropped his hand. “What’s wrong? Nancy said it’s a wonderful movie and I wanna see it!” He rolled his eyes at your eager voice, causing you to feel ashamed for simply wanting to indulged in something fun.

“Yeah exactly, it contains dirty dancing! It’s a sin, you know, to be watching those kinds of things.” One of his hands rest on his hips as the other pointed at you, his demeanor like a father scolding you for taking a cookie out of the jar.

It honestly made you more irritated than guilty, now.

He shook his head and sighed, leaving you standing in the romance section as he walked over to the…you guessed it—Christian movies!

Robin had made her way back to you, tape in hand, oblivious to the mini argument that you and Jason had a few seconds ago.

“Hey so I actually hid this one just for you because I had this gut feeling that you were going to come in and—what’s wrong?”

She sensed something was off when you didn’t immediately jump and screech hearing she had the movie that you were looking forward to watch after hearing Nancy brag about it over lunch.

With your head shaking and shoulders hunched, you opted for the simply answer in hopes of Robin not fretting too much,“N-nothing, just forget about it, I don’t want to argue with him, anyway.” You explained, feeling the sorry look that Robin was giving you.

The bell chiming caught your attention, and you turned towards the door hearing that voice, “Please! Please! Please tell me you’ve got what I’ve been waiting for?!”

He wore something different, but not too different from his usual school attire. Metallica band tee and another pair of black ripped up jeans. He went straight to the counter where Steve was holding up the last copy of The Shining.

“You’re the best for a reason, Harrington!” Eddie declared loudly, practically ripping the tape out of his hands and keeping it close to his chest, which made you smile a little.

“I’m gonna look around, but thanks for the help, Robin.”

She nodded and went back to work as you strolled over to the thrillers, feeling inspired by Eddie’s passion. Thrillers and horror weren’t usually your thing, but you just wanted to see if there was something you could handle. Your fingers skimmed the different tapes, but sadly, nothing caught your eye. But you just so happened to catch him.

“If it isn’t the snow angel herself.”

That same voice, but not snowflake…snow angel. Somehow it had a better ring to it than the original nickname he had for you, this was a lot sweeter, more you.

You gawked up through your lashes and beamed, seeing him standing across from you, The Shining still pressed up to his chest as his left hand held a bunch of other tapes that he seemed to snag despite entering the store only five minutes ago.

“Hey, Munson..jeez, what’re you hosting a movie night or something?” You tiptoed to get a better peek at the different tapes he had that piqued your interest, but not as much as Dirty Dancing did.

“Actually, yeah, the rest of Hellfire wanted to do some sort of bonding thing, so movie night it is.” He told you, looking down at the movies he had.

“What’s do you guys do in Hellfire, again?” You truly never knew as Jason and the rest of the jocks and cheerleaders claimed it was some sort of satanic sacrifice club despite having any factual evidence, only the devil symbol that was used to represent the club.

“It’s a D&D club. We play Dungeons and Dragons the fantasy game.” He informed you as you nodded.

“This whole time, I thought you were sacrificing innocent children.” You scoffed sarcastically, making him crack a smile and laugh.

The two of you continued to stare down at the tapes before you spoke once more. “I’d be up to learn someday, y’know, as long as I can get one of those cool shirts you always wear.” Your openness slightly took aback him and he wondered if you were pulling his leg or not.

“R-Really?” He stuttered out as you looked back up at him and nodded your head eagerly.

In his head, he was already planning an extravagant welcome for you despite barely knowing you and even weighting out the probability that you’d actually show up and enjoy taking the time to learn the complex game of D&D.

“Totally, I think it’s badass—“

Conversation cut short as the blonde’s voice came closer and went from pleased to seething at seeing who his girlfriend was chatting with.

“Babe, I found—is this freak bothering you?!” Jason was speedily by your side, cutting off the discussion that was going pretty smoothly between you and Eddie.

“No, he’s not Jason, so please cool it.” You told him firmly, tugging on his sleeve, trying to get him to settle down.

Eddie wanted to laugh seeing the jock so worked up over an innocent conversation between him and his girl. He almost forgot that you were romantically involved with Jason because of your differing attitudes. Despite your uniform and label as a cheerleader at Hawkins High, you were a total sweetheart, definitely a contrast between the other girls and jocks who hated Hellfire’s guts for no apparent reason.

Jason was still staring angrily at Eddie, who seemed to care less about the entire ordeal, just wanting to continue his conversation with you, but sadly, that wasn’t the case.

“Why don’t we go pay, yeah?” You suggested to Jason, who, without saying a word to you, left for the registers.

“Sorry about him.” You whispered timidly towards Eddie,

He brushed it off, giving you an unphased looked and mouthing, “s’ok angel,” watching you trail behind Jason like a lost puppy.

He kept his eyes on you despite walking to the other side of the store to browse any other films he thought the guys might enjoy while listening in on the conversation you and Robin were having on the side of the register.

“You sure you don’t want Dirty Dancing? I doubt it’s going to be available any time soon after someone picks it up.” Robin waved the tape around in the air, tempting you, but you shook your head, looking at Jason, who was giving you those telling eyes.

Steve handed Jason back his change, and you turned to Robin for the last time, “I’m sure, but thanks anyway. I’ll see you, Monday alright?” You smiled at her before Jason practically yanked you out of the store.

“Uh…okaaaay that totally wasn’t awkward at all.” Robin whispered to herself, setting the tape down disappointed and watched you two drive off in Carver’s douchey ride that she hated oh so much.

She shook her head, turning her attention to her best friend Steve, who was now ringing up Eddie, and caught a glimpse of your goodbye.

“I really fucking hate Carvers’ guts.” She sneered through gritted teeth, Steve nodded in understanding while counting the money Eddie had passed to him.

Robin rested her head on the counter staring at Steve and continuing on a little rant, “I mean, first of all, he’s just an idiotic asshole, but I can’t believe she’s dating him…really….I mean she’s too good for him. I know for a fact he’s the reason she didn’t get Dirty Dancing!”

Steve glanced over at her and gave her an apologetic stare. “You didn’t hear? He practically screamed at her when you left to go find the tape. I could hear his whiny little voice from the back of the store.”

Robin sighed, knowing that it was pointless to trash talk Jason because at the end of the day you and him were still together and it didn’t look like it was going to change anytime soon.

“Dirty Dancing, hmm?” Eddie surged into the conversation, checking out the tape and glancing over at Harrington and Buckley.

“I’ll buy it.” He shrugged, startling them a bit as they watched him gather a few more bucks from his pocket and slide it over the counter.

Steve snorted, scanning its code and looking up at him. “You really going to watch it? Maybe even learn some moves?” He rose his brows, watching Eddie closely.

Eddie smirked, picking up his tapes and grabbing the change from Steve’s hand. “A better idea, actually.”

Another Monday meant another full schedule of classes that you loathed—but you had to remember that this was your last year of high school before the real world. That you might as well savor the quote unquote simple time of high school before you’d be sucked into college and a new world of academic stress you weren’t looking forward to. Second period chemistry came by quickly and you sat in your seat, but not before waving at Eddie, who was early and already shooting you one of his famous smiles.

You began taking out your notebook and pencil case, setting it up on your desk as you got comfortable hearing the bell ring and Mr. Smith standing in front of the class ready to get started on the agenda.

“I hope you all had a restful weekend because the next two weeks are going to be filled with an introductory project.” He announced as the class began to complain loudly about how the school year had just started and they were still trying to get used to the new routine.

Mr. Smith shushed the class, getting them to settle down and listen to more of his instructions, “Listen, I know it’s a bit soon considering we just started a new school year, but I promise it will be slightly easy because you will be working in partners—and because I’m nice, you will be able to pick your partners!” He spoke, somewhat easing the nervous students who immediately turned to their friends in the class, ready to partner up.

“However, you must pass this project with at least a C or higher in order to work with your partner again for future projects, so I advise all of you to pick your partners wisely and remember this is not just about goofing off alright?” He allowed a moment for the students to find their partners and, to your surprise, as you were turning around to speak to Eddie, he had already leaned forward, ready to ask you to be partners.

“Sorry!” You both let out a small laugh as he leaned back and watched you fiddled with your fingers, something you did out of habit, he suspected.

“Partners?” Your voice squeaked a bit, and he nodded yes before grabbing his bag that was lying on the floor and opening it up.

“I actually have something for you, partner.” He declared, following your brows rise with curiosity until he held up the tape with a bold grin on his face.

Your eyes widened in surprise, “No fucking way! Are you serious!” You whisper shouted, feet kicking and hands thrashing around.

The genuine look of gratefulness and excitement spread across your face was enough for his heart to warm up as you picked up the tape and inspected the front and back of it.

“Buckley told me you were eyeing it but decided not to pull the trigger, figured I’d just get it for you since I had enough.” He wiggled his shoulders freely as you grinned heartily and moved over to grab his hand, which he didn’t expect, causing his heart to skip a little and his leg to bounce rapidly under the desk.

“You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it a lot… here, let me see if I have some money on me.” You withdrew your hand from his and went into your backpack, hoping to have some bills lying around.

“Uh uh…absolutely not, angel, just take it as a token of appreciation for defending me against that boyfriend of yours.” He was half joking as you peered up at him and gave a tiny sorry smile for Jason’s relentless behavior a couple of days ago.

“Gosh, I’m super sorry about him again. I don’t know what’s his deal, he’s always prissy, y’know, but maybe it’s just stress from basketball and senior year.”

“Maybe he’s just a fuckin’ piece of shit” is what Eddie really wanted to say, but he held back, not wanting to turn the moment sour.

“s’alright, just make sure you return it on time. Can’t have Harrington threatening to beat my ass, too.” He tapped his desk before settling back into his seat and watching your teeth catch your lip slightly, and nodding your head in a promising way before tucking it into your backpack like a prized possession and getting back to discussing the project that you two would be working on.

You and Eddie both decided you’d switch between his home and yours to work on the project every few days for the next two weeks. And to alleviate some of the stress, you both decided on a specific topic you wanted to focus on so that you could already start brainstorming ideas about how you wanted to present it.

Instead of heading straight to lunch as you always did, you made a pit stop to your locker, tucking the tape Eddie had given you behind all your books to ensure Jason wouldn’t see it and thankfully you had slammed your locker shut just in time as your lovely boyfriend had popped up beside you from nowhere.

“Hey you.” He grinned, kissing your cheeks and lips as you squealed and laughed lightly,

“Sorry, just had to put away some books.” You told him, leaning against the lockers and watching his face.

“It’s no problem babe, I was actually wondering if you wanted to go out tomorrow for a little date, after practice, of course. Enzo’s maybe?” He proposed, but you instantly shook your head, remembering the crucial task you had.

“I actually have a chemistry project that I need to work on for the next two weeks—Eddie and I, we’re partners, so I’m heading over to his place to start.” Your voice told him willingly, not in the mood to try to hide it from him, but you noticed his facial expression falter from somber to outraged just hearing Eddie’s name.

“Munson?! You’re partnered with him! Absolutely not. Are you insane? He’s a freak for crying out loud!” He practically shouted, increasing the attention of some students in the halls who were hanging around and walking towards the cafeteria, making you ashamed.

You buried your face in your hands and rolled your eyes, hoping he didn’t see. “Would you stop with that? It’s all just a bunch of bullshit! Hellfire is a club where they play Dragons and Dungeons!” You explained softly

“Or is it Dungeons and Dragons?” Your mind slipped trying to remember which was right, but you shook the thoughts and pulled your hands away to stare at Jason, who didn’t seem impressed with your answer.

“Look, if you really got to know the guy, you’d see that he isn’t as bad as you think. He’s actually really nice and sincere. I don’t think there is a bad bone in his body, honestly.” You confessed unapologetically, as Jason felt his anger rise to a whole other level, hearing his girlfriend defend that freak show whom he despised.

“You—you don’t even know the guy!” He argued, fingers pointed at you sharply.

“Oh, and I suppose you do?” You crossed your arms sharply as you snapped back swiftly with a huff of a breath.

Quite frankly, you had it with Jason and his disrespectful comments towards people who he didn’t know. Simply making judgements off of them based on what they wore and what they looked like.

You pushed yourself off the lockers and glanced at him once more, “I’m your girlfriend and you need to trust me. He’s a good guy and we both really need to pass chemistry in order to graduate, so for sake, would you please just drop it?”

He didn’t have time to respond as you simply walked away from him and into the cafeteria, kinda just how he left you standing in Family Video last weekend. In need of some serious girl time with Nancy and Robin, who were waiting for you to show up.

“Oh god, what’s the matter?” Nancy spoke quick and worriedly, seeing you show up to their table empty-handed and your lip curled up in displeasure.

“Jason.” You muttered as the girls both rushed to ask a few questions.

“Did he hurt you?”

“What happened?”

“You break up with him?”

“Are you OK?”

You rested your elbows on the table, rubbing at your temple as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and looking at Nancy and Robin.

“I-I’m fine. We actually just got into an argument about Mr. Munson himself.” You mumbled, watching their eyes widen and shift towards where Eddie was sitting with his club.

“You—you’re talking about Eddie Munson? The so-called freak, or whatever your lame boyfriend and his friends call him?” Robin confirmed, and you nodded.

“We’re partners for our chemistry project, so we’re going to be working together for the next two weeks.” You explained as they nodded and sat back, trying to process the deep-rooted insecurity that Jason had towards Edward Munson.

You bit your lip, taking a single glance at Eddie and turning back to them, “I honestly don’t know why people think he’s so bad, he’s genuinely nice…he gave me the Dirty Dancing tape I was going to get on Saturday.” You announced, causing Robin to gasp and sit up.

“So that’s what that little shit did with it!” She whispered, a narrow grin on her face as she hit the table with her palm.

“W-wait, I’m so confused.” Nancy closed her eyes, trying to figure out what the hell the two of you were getting at.

“Little Miss and her boyfriend came to Family Video on Saturday and she so badly wanted to get Dirty Dancing to indulge in the graceful acting and rated x dancing of Mr. Patrick Swayze and Ms. Jennifer Grey, but she decided she didn’t want it and you wanna know who shows up and miraculously gets the tape for her?” Robin looked between you and Nancy as you rolled your eyes, ready for her big reveal.

“Eddie Fucking Munson!” the words gladly left her lips, rubbing her hands together with Nancy giving up a tender smile, “Ok I will admit that’s a little cute.”

“He’s just friendly. I’m sure he just felt bad that I didn’t get it for myself.”

Nancy and Robin shared an “are you serious” look.

“He could’ve easily accepted the fact that you didn’t get the tape and went about his day with his thriller movies, but instead he got it and presented it to you today. I’m calling bullshit. That son of a bitch has the hots for you!” Robin drummed against the table, making a blush spread across your face as you shook your head, frantically biting back a shy smile.

“You’re blushing!” Nancy giggled pointed at your cheeks that you hid behind your hands this time.

“You guys are crazy! Look, I have the tape, so what do you guys say? A sleepover with some Dirty Dancing?” You removed your hands and wiggled your eyebrows at them as they laughed and nodded.

“Sure, I’ll pick up Robin from Family Video after her shift, and you’ll meet at mine after practice?” Nancy asked you as you nodded

You let out a frustrated scream, throwing your head back against the headrest of your car as your fingers twisted the key into the ignition and still the engine would not falter.

“You! Stupid! Fucking! Piece! Of! Garbage!” You yelled, getting out of the car and banging on the hood, attempting to get it to magically start somehow.

It was just your luck that cheer practice had extended for another thirty minutes and Chrissy was running late so she had asked you to lock up the gym, meaning you were the last one in the school parking lot with no one to give you a ride home.

“That was an awesome campaign, man!” Dustin applauded as he and the rest of Hellfire had exited the building on the other side of the parking lot.

“I know it was totally unexpected but so much—” Mike’s voice faded from hearing a girl’s shriek and the sound of metal being smacked. Their eyes followed your voice until they landed on you reaching into your side of the car for the hood lever.

“Isn’t that Jason Carver’s girl?” Gareth squinted, watching your tiny figure pop the hood of the car and let out another stream of curse words.

As much as Eddie wanted to crack a joke, he held it back, seeing as you were truly distressed and on the verge of tears, “She has a name, moron.” Eddie found himself making a jog towards your side, letting out a small cough that caught your attention.

“Need some assistance, angel?”

A relieved sigh escaped your mouth as you saw him come into view and you nodded, thanking him and watching as he instantly took the weight of the hood from you and peered into the inside of your car.

“Is it bad?” You nervously bit on your thumb, not noticing the group of boys that had formed behind you watching their Dungeon Master assist the cheerleader.

Eddie clicked his tongue and looked over at you and nodded, shutting the hood and exhaling, “Your head gasket is blown and you’re going to need another if you want this baby to get you anywhere.”

“Fuck.” You hissed, running your fingers through your hair and turning around, only to be startled by a bunch of boys.

“Ohmygosh!” You bolted back into Eddie’s chest as he quickly steadied you and yanked his hands right back to his sides after you regained your balanced.

“Jesus, give the girl some warning, won’t you?” Eddie scolded his friends, swallowing a chuckle he wanted to let out from your jitteriness.

The curly-headed boy bowed his head in apology, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you! I’m Dustin, by the way!” He popped you a smile as you nodded and gave him a small one.

“And you're Mike, Nancy’s brother.” You pointed at the tall boy, who nodded and waved.

You looked at the other three men who you assumed were seniors. “Sorry, I don’t think I caught your names?”

They seemed taken aback by your question considering the fact that no one usually acknowledged them, so instead Eddie stepped in to answer as he pointed them out, “That’s Gareth, Jeff, and Kevin. Sorry they’re a little star stuck that the pretty cheerleader is giving them the light of day—or I guess I should say night.” He looked around at the dark sky, then back to his friends, who stood in pure shock.

“H-Hi.” You said quietly, introducing yourself before spinning around to face Eddie, “I umm—could you, um, do you think I could get a ride?” Again, those fingers twiddling with each other and this time with the hem of your uniform.

He instantly nodded, pressing a soothing hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to your car while the other fished out his keys and threw them to Dustin. “Start up my van. We’ll meet you there. I’m gonna help her with her stuff.” Dustin and the boys walked to Eddie’s van and the three seniors got into their own cars and drove away.

“I’m really so sorry. I feel like a total lost cause around you.” You confessed to opening up the trunk to grab your bags, but Munson had beaten you to it, already slinging the duffle on his shoulder and picking up your pom-poms, which looked silly in his ring decorated hands.

“Hey, don’t be sorry alright, things like this happen. I’m just glad you weren’t stranded here all by yourself.” He told you, watching as you shut the trunk and opened your driver’s door to grab your wallet and a few cassettes that you didn’t want stolen from any car thieves that might roam in the late night.

He couldn’t help but think, where was Jason? I mean, yeah, he could be a fucking bastard to him and his friends, but he thought he would be the charming boyfriend who at least made sure his girlfriend made it back home in one piece.

You shook him out of his thought with your voice, “Yeah, thanks for that.” You smiled, locking up the car and following him to his van,

“So how was your day?” He asked you peering over at you laughing lightly at the ground.

“Besides my car breaking down out of nowhere, it was alright. Cheer was tiring, but when isn’t it right? How about you?” He slid open the backdoor, passing your things to the boys before shutting it.

Eddie spoke, while his gracefully pulled open the passenger door for you, “A little better than usual, we had a good campaign tonight…your carriage awaits.”

“Thank you, again,” you beamed, reaching out to caress his shoulder warmly as you got in and fastened your seatbelt, feeling the door shut and Eddie quickly sliding in the driver’s seat.

You turned your body towards the back where the two boys were sitting and gave them a remorseful look. “I’m super duper sorry for crashing your night. I’ll make it up to you guys one day. Pizza or something like that.” You told them as they both shook their heads.

“It’s really no problem. You being nice to us is really paying us back if you think about it.” Dustin replied, making you grimace, thinking about how cruel the jocks could be to these innocent kids.

“Hey, and I’m really sorry about my boyfriend and how his friends treat you guys. I know he thinks calling you freak is a bad thing, but I think you guys are sooo cool. A little eccentric maybe, but that’s what makes people special and one of a kind.” Your eyes slip towards Eddie without really noticing before turning back to Mike and Dustin.

“Plus, being a jock isn’t as cool as people think it out to be, anyway. I mean, they basically sweat against each other at every practice and game. I’d much rather be in an air-conditioned room playing a cool fantasy game, if you ask me.”

A smirk plastered on your face as your hand reached over and gave each of the boys an encouraging hair ruffle, but your eyes failed to catch Eddie’s in the rear-view mirror that was filled with contentment just hearing you build up the freshman’s confidence and a little of his own.

He cleared his throat, gaining your attention as you settled back into the passenger seat and he drove off.

“Why don’t we listen to what you got—is that fucking ABBA!?” On your lap was where the tape was resting and he quickly snatched it, inspecting the damn thing and scoffing about how cliche the music was.

“Hey don’t shit on ABBA, it’s pretty good!” You retorted, snatching it out of his hands and sliding it into the slot and “Super Trouper” blared through the speakers as the wind blew your hair in all different directions. You looked beautiful to him, just absolutely breathtaking as the night sky beamed on your face. He got lost in your voice and giggles and before you know it was over.

“Thanks for the ride Munson…oh and thanks for Dirty Dancing, again! I’m having a girls’ night with Nance and Robin.” You beamed, picking up your things and stealing one more glimpse at him while he nodded and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.

“It’s no problem angel, I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Tomorrow.” You agreed, waving bye to him and Dustin as they drove off, leaving you and Mike walking up his driveway.

“You’re not as bad as I thought you were, y’know.” Mike spoke to you as he rang the doorbell, waiting for his mom or dad to let you both in.

“Hmm, really?” You turned slightly to him, watching his shoulders move.

“I don’t know, I guess I just thought all the cheerleaders and jocks were cruel idiots, but not you…and Lucas, of course.” He explained as you hummed in approval.

“Just remember to ignore the assholes, alright? It’s all inner insecurity, anyway. If they were satisfied with their lives like they claim they are, they wouldn’t attack innocent people for enjoying different things. And hey, you never know, the person you might think is sooo different from you could actually be just like you.” You patted his back with your pom-poms and heard him let out a chuckle.

“So basically, like you and Eddie?”

“Wait, wha—” before you even had time to ask Mike what he was talking about, his mother had answered the door and greeted you both with a warm smile and hug.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart! Have you eaten?” Mrs. Wheeler asked, moving off to the to let you in as you shook your head no.

“My car broke down at school, so I actually had to catch a ride with Mike and his friend Eddie, but I can honestly eat whatever you’ve prepared. I’m not picky at all.” You assured her as she guided you to the kitchen, where she made you a plate of spaghetti.

“Do you mind if I made a quick call to my parents? Just have to let them know I got here safely and about my car.” You asked, watching as she nodded.

After a five-minute call with your parents letting them know you’d be spending the night at the Wheelers and letting them know about your broken-down car, they had let you go and reminded you to call them if you needed anything. If there was one thing you were really grateful for, it was understanding and patient parents who did more listening than disciplining.

“Thanks again, Mrs. Wheeler!” You called out as you made your way up the familiar stairs and into Nancy’s bedroom, where she and Robin were already waiting for you.

“Jesus, we thought you’d never show up.” Robin joked, getting up to help you put down your things as Nancy patted an open spot on her bed.

“Sorry I’m late, car broke down and Eddie had to drop me off here.” You explained to them as their gasped filled your ears, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Edward Munson gave you a ride here?” Nancy blurted, patting Robin’s leg frantically.

“Calm down. We weren’t alone. Mike and Dustin were also in the car.” You told them, but still the squealing didn’t stop with these two.

“I swear Eddie is racking up these points, first getting you the tape you’ve been longing for and now being your knight in shining armor? He’s only known you for like a few days and he’s already going out of his way for you—this totally confirms that he’s into you!” Robin pointed earning Nancy’s support, while you ignored them and they kept talking amongst themselves of how head over heels Eddie was for you.

Instead of partaking in their delusions, you opted to enjoy Mrs. Wheelers’ home cooked meal and assurance that you knew Eddie was just being kind to you like he would for any other person. That’s just who he was.

Thankfully, as the night went on, the three of you got some homework done before settling in to watch Dirty Dancing, Nancy did her best not to spoil the movie too much for you and Robin since it was your first time seeing it, but she did let you know when the good scenes were coming up.

“Honey, you have a call.” Mrs. Wheeler knocked lightly on the door and opened it, holding up the cordless phone towards you laying in bed next to Nance.

“She can use mine.” Nancy offered, picking up her landline that rested on her bedside table as Robin paused the movie.

“Thanks.” You said quietly towards Mrs. Wheeler who nodded and shut the door.

Nancy passed you the phone, and you quickly put it to your ear, maybe suspecting your parents calling to check in, “Hello?”

“Babe oh thank god! I thought you were sacrificed for a moment there.” Jason’s voice was filled with relief as you sighed and shook your head.

“I’m fine, Jason. I’m just having a girls’ night with Nancy and Robin, alright? And how did you even know to call here?” You questioned, waiting for his answer.

“I called your house first, but your mom told me you weren’t home, said you were spending the night at the Wheelers.” He said, and you nodded slowly, silence filling the conversation.

“And I—I wanted to apologize for earlier today. You know I didn’t mean to cause a scene or make you upset. I just don’t like the thought of that freak hanging out with you. Who knows what he’s capable of? The last thing I need is to worry about my girl’s safety. I just don’t want him to hurt you or fill your head with sinner thoughts.”

You internally cringed at that whole speech that took him god knows how long to curate. If your boyfriend really thought that Eddie was in danger, then he had another thing coming.

“Just don’t worry about me, alright? I’m a big girl and you need to trust me. And look, it’s getting late so I’ll just see you tomorrow, alright?”

He grumbled and sighed, “Let me pick you up in the—”

“Can’t. Nancy is giving Robin and I both a ride to school, then Eddie is giving me a ride to his place to work on our project. Don’t worry about me….and um, I forgive you, I’ll see you tomorrow, Jason.” You said hurriedly, hanging up the phone and laying back in the bed staring at the pink ceiling.

“Well, I’m not even going to ask what was that about. Let’s just continue, right?” Robin glanced at the television and you nodded, hearing the movie resume as you proceeded to stare into space.

Did you even really forgive your boyfriend for what he did to you today? Or did you just feel like you had to cut him some slack because you felt like you needed to? Sure, you were a bit cold to Jason during the phone call, but his perception of Eddie and his friend group was slowly starting to get under your nerves. At first it was just normal banter between the two groups, but now it was just painstakingly obvious that Jason just wanted to make their lives harder for no reason and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“One last run through girls!” Chrissy shouted, while you heaved, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for the next round of jumps and flips.

Practice was stretching over half an hour later than usual and if it was any other day you wouldn’t have minded, but you knew that today was your and Eddie’s first session together. Hellfire usually finished the same time as cheer, maybe a little later but you should’ve known Eddie was considerate enough to end his game a little early to make sure he picked you up in time.

“Angel!” Your head jerked towards his voice echoing throughout the gym, gaining all the attention of the cheerleaders who stared at the freak leaning against the gymnasium doors.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

“Such a perv!”

“Scram you freak!”

Their snotty voices overlapped one another in hatred, causing you to roll your eyes and step up to his defense right away, “He’s with me.”

Their mouths held agape as their jeers completely ceased and you waltzed your way over to Munson, giving him a sorry look, “Sorry about them.” you whispered, rolling your eyes at the girls behind you, except Chrissy, who told them all to shush.

He snickered and shook his head, “Hey it’s not like I’m already accustomed to it…you uhh…ready to go?”

You rubbed your fingers together and shook your head, “We’ve got one more run through, but I swear it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes!” You crossed your fingers like a promise and he gave you a reassuring stare.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright…take your time, I’ll just wait outside—” He pointed behind him and you shook your head quickly, mouth not stopping yourself as you blurted, “You can wait on the bleachers! It’s freezing out…”

Gosh, you sounded desperate for him.

He laughed skeptically, glancing at the ogling cheerleaders behind you, “You sure they won’t be uncomfortable with the satanic cult leader in their presence?”

Rolling your eyes, you brushed the girls off, “They’ll get over it,”

“I’ll be over there then.” He pointed to some bleachers, and you nodded, going separate ways so that you could finally finish up practice for the night and not have to endure the comments and judging eyes from the rest of the team.

“One more run through, right?” You snapped as they finally jerked out of their trance and got into position, Chrissy giving you an apologetic smile before she called out the counts.

He watched you and only you as they tossed you up in the air and you held your pose tightly. It just so happened he never attended a pep rally, let alone any games, so he didn’t know what cheer consisted of. Thinking it was just girls screaming a bunch of corny cheers, which that was a little bit of it, he gained a new respect for it, at least for you.

When you finally finished, you said goodbye to Chrissy, the only one who was remotely nice to you, and rushed over straight to Eddie, who stood up and took your duffle bag from your shoulder. It was a kind gesture, something that you didn’t expect, but like you’ve been telling everyone, Eddie was super kind, and this was in his nature.

“I didn’t know you got tossed around like a rag doll.” He said while spinning his keys around his finger, his eyes lingering on your figure for a moment.

You giggle and shook your shoulders, “It’s like second nature to me….and um, sorry for the girls again, they’re really shallow.” You really felt the need to apologize again for putting him in this situation, as you could still faintly hear them snickering while you and Eddie finally exited the sticky gym.

He stopped for a moment, catching your right hand that was swinging, “Angel, what they say really doesn’t affect me anymore, so don’t stress that pretty little head of yours, alright?”

The sudden but simplest physical contact caused your breath to hitch and your heart to flutter. You couldn’t pinpoint where these feelings were coming from, but it wasn’t uncomfortable for you. It just felt different, but a pleasant different.

“Y—yeah…I know, I just umm…I have this stupid habit of apologizing like a million times.” You stuttered out quickly and finally his touch dropped from yours.

“You can do no wrong in my eyes, so don’t ever think you have to apologize to me.” He continued walking towards his van sticking the key into the passenger to unlock to door

“…especially for something you didn’t do.” He added with a smile, holding the door open for you.

“Thanks Eds.” You grinned, settling into your seat.

The drive to the trailer park wasn’t too long, only about a ten-minute drive, but during the ride you and Eddie were able to strike up a conversation about his D&D tonight and how all the boys had a great time with it. You didn’t quite wrap your head around the whole game at first, but it was starting to make a lot more sense as Eddie explained it further. Finally, you arrived at the trailer park and you anticipated being in his personal space for a few hours.

He stumbled a bit through him and his uncle’s trailer, trying to pick some things up and at least make the place look half decent while you stood in the middle of the living room watching him frantically clean.

“Eddie, really, it’s fine.” Your small voice said, shoulders coming together as he finally turned his attention to you and sighed.

“I really should’ve cleaned this place up before I left this morning. I swear I don’t live in a dump.” He held his hands up in defense and you waved him off and smiled, taking a small walk around the area.

The walls were littered with a few pictures that looked like it was from his childhood and there was a small coffee table sitting in the middle of the room where the tapes he bought over the weekend were scattered.

“You live here all by yourself?” You sought, fingers brushing over the walls and smiling at what looked like a baby Eddie dressed up as a cowboy for Halloween.

He came up beside you shook his head. “With my uncle actually, but he works night shifts, so I don’t see him too much unless it’s on the weekends.”

You nodded and finally tore your eyes away from the photograph meeting his, “Do you wanna work in your bedroom or the living room?”

He shuffled around for a second before motioning you to follow him down the narrow hall into a room that you knew was his. A dark red guitar hanging up against his mirror, a plethora of posters stuck to the wall, and a bed that had no headboard or footboard in the room's corner. It wasn’t your style, but it was definitely Eddie’s and despite the room’s limited space, you liked the atmosphere.

“Cozy.” You murmured with a small smile, taking in the personality of his room, setting down your things and taking a seat on the carpeted floor.

“Are you sure this is ok?” He asked anxiously, watching you get comfortable rather quickly

You nodded reassuring, patting the space in front of you so he could get the hint to join, “I like it…really fits the whole look you have going on. Metal.”

“Metal.” He purred, smile inching up on his face before he turned to grab his books to actually use for studying for what seemed like the first time in a long time.

Eddie couldn’t help but stare at you a few times out of the night, basking in your beauty, which in reality were smudged eyeliner and mascara and an oily forehead due to practice a few hours earlier.

Trailing your eyes up from your notes, you could see Eddie staring at you intentlu,“You ok over there?”

He jerked and coughly stiffly out of embaressment of being caught, but you found it to be rather cute, offering a snorted laugh which seemed to ease him a bit.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine…sorry I thought there was something on your face, but it was just the moon shining.” His fingers widened, imitating the light that was flickering in through his thin curtains and highlighting your features as your cheeks blushed.

“You flirt with all the girls who bring around here?” A teasing statement left your lips, and he grunted, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Me?! Flirting?! Bringing girls around here?! Angel you’re the only girl I’ve brought home, but if your boyfriend found out, he’d kick me ass.” He countered back watching you laugh lightly before a frown covered your face at the mention of your boyfriend.

You knew Jason had no limits. If he had found out about you and Eddie’s innocent interactions like these, he’d lose his shit and target Eddie, making his life even harder. Definitely not what you wanted.

Your legs stretched out straight as you shoved your notebook off to the side in the pile with the rest of your stuff. Sighing deeply, you stared back up at Eddie who’s back rested against his dresser, following your every move.

“Jason can be a bit much…all the time actually. Got into a fight yesterday, and it wasn’t pretty.” You admitted, voice filled with disappointment and a twinge of sadness.

He frowned, tossing his notes to the side as he maneuvered a little to sit closer next to you, “You ok? He didn’t hurt you or anything, right?” The question left his lips before he could even stop and you nodded, making sure he knew you were alright.

“No, no, no, he didn’t put his hands on me. Our fights are more verbal than anything. It’s kind of like mixing gasoline with fire when it comes to him and I. When we fight it gets ugly, none of us want to be wrong….though I’m usually always right.”

The smile that broke out on your face wasn’t sincere, and he could tell. It was almost like a pitiful expression to try to get him to think that everything was ok, but he could read you. It was easy. At least for him to notice. He just listened as you continued to talk. He liked hearing your voice….not so much hearing about all the things Jason did to upset you, but if it helped to get it off your chest, then he was more than willing to sit here with you all night.

For some reason, you felt comfortable sharing this information with Eddie. Usually, you’d keep the arguments that you and Jason had between you and him, only really confiding in Nancy or Robin when you were extremely pissed. But you felt OK to share it now, and you didn’t know if it was the coziness of Eddie’s room or simply the safeness that you felt, but you were OK.

Once you realized you had gotten off track and disregarded the project, you caught yourself instantly going into apologizing mode, “Sorry, I’m rambling. It’s a habit.” You withdrew, feeling yourself becoming a bit too comfortable, and Eddie shook it off offering a reassuring smile that made you feel warm.

“‘s’lright, you can always talk to me, if it makes you feel better.”

That made you smile from ear to ear whispiring a soft and quiet “thank you,” before getting back to work.

To you and Eddie’s surprise, the night went fairly well as progress was made for the chem project and you two were easily able to hold a comfortable conversation without fearing judgement or awkward silence. He made you laugh a countless amount of times throughout the night whether it was mocking Mr. Smith’s boring lectures, hearing his horrible gym stories, and attempting a cheer with your poms. Hell, he even played some ABBA and Madonna for motivation after you wanted to give up and take a failing grade.

For the night, he made you forget about all the issues you were facing. It was more than nice. You wish you could spend every night like this.

Despite the dislikes of Jason, he learned to deal with it, knowing that you were going to stand your ground and not switch out being partners with Eddie. The last few days were hell for the jock, needing to watch you get into Munson’s car and drive off to his place or yours in order to work on the project while he could do nothing but stay pissed at both you and Eddie. But of course, he’s Jason Carver. He always has a vindictive plan up his sleeve.

He trusted you, but definitively not Munson. He had to make sure Eddie knew you were his girl and his only. That his satanic ways would not get the best of you. He spent the last few days being extra touchy for no apparent reason, purposefully pulling you into kisses that turned into make-out sessions in the middle of the hallway when Eddie would cruise by or right before you’d hop into Eddie’s car and drive off to work.

You never noticed Eddie’s presence and assumed that Jason just really wanted to makeup for being a dick to you, but it was never really that. And today was no different. Before you could even take a seat at his lunch table, he pulled you into his lap and roughly pressed his lips against yours in a scorchingly uncomfortable kiss.

Then there was Eddie, glaring in distaste as he heard you squeal loudly and press your hands on Jason’s chest to shove him away, dying of embarrassment at everyone watching.

“Jesus, they need a fucking room.” Mike gagged from his lunch table, turning away as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, not noticing Jason turning his attention to Eddie.

“Fuck you, freak.” Jason would mouth, flipping Munson the bird, while Eddie graciously returned it with a scowl.

“The fuck is his deal?” Eddie turned over to his boys, who looked disturbed and genuinely about to vomit after witnessing such PDA.

Dustin rolled his eyes with a grunt, cramming some chips into his mouth. “His deal? Really? Please tell me you didn’t ask the most obvious question?”

The young boy watched Eddie’s face fall in bewilderment, and he groaned. “You are totally oblivious, aren’t you?” Dustin tossed the chip bag down, licking the Cheeto dust off his fingers as Eddie’s face scrunched up in repulsion.

“Jason is jealous of the time you and her and spending—thinks you’re going to take her away from him.” Dustin explained, and the other guys agreed in unison, nodding their head and talking amongst themselves about the situation.

“M-me? Eddie Munson would take her away? She’s not even my type, Henderson, so I don’t know why jock has his panties in a twist in the first place.” He shook his head and sunk back into the chair, taking a glace at you and Jason kissing once more, this time not as obscene, but still gross.

“Sure, she may not be your type, but we can all agree that the chemistry you share is unbelievable and we’re not just talking about the class.” Dustin quipped cheekily, watching Eddie tilt his head down to hide his reddening cheeks.

“Henderson….” Eddie gritted through his teeth, wanting to go back in time and not ask the question to begin with.

“He’s right! You two have a nice dynamic, so it’s no wonder Carvers is possessive of her.” Mike added harmlessly.

“Drop it dipshits.” Munson announced, eventually lifting his head up from the table, only to be greeted by your face staring at him from across the room. A glowing smile and fingers waving towards him before your attention was stolen again by your boyfriend.

Two weeks were up quicker than you expected, but Eddie and you had a marvelous time working on the project together. He’d pick you up after practice, or if you were early, you’d stop by Hellfire to wait for him to be done until you’d both work on the project. It was nice having something to do other than the same boring homework you had for other classes, along with having his company. The both of you waiting patiently as you watched your chem teacher make his rounds across the room before finally stopping at Eddie’s desk.

“An A+ this is fucking’ insane!” Eddie pounded his desk cheerfully, your grade circled at the top of the page in bright red ink.

You twisted your body around, holding up your hand that he high fived before continuing to celebrate his first A+ in the last three years. It was kinda adorable to see him so giddy over a grade. To you, it was normal to get decent grades, but for someone like Eddie, it was rare to see. People always doubted his intellectual abilities just because of what he wore and how he spoke, so it became his normal to expect grades that reflected his personality. Not this time, though, at least not under your watch.

“You keep it, hang it up on your wall as a memento.” Your hand patted his, eyes still glued to each other, and that shit-eating grinned that you both had when you two were around.

“Y’sure you don’t want to file it in with the rest of your superb grades?” He shot you a joke with a raised eyebrow, causing you to roll your eyes playfully.

“I’m sure about it, Munson. This certainly won’t be our last A+ together, right? I mean, we’re friends now….r-right?” You don’t know why your voice shook or why you even asked such a dumb question in the first place. I mean, it was pretty much established that you and Eddie were friends, right? Especially after the time and laughter you two shared. It was now a genuine friendship, right?

He nodded and inched closer to you, “Yeah, of course we are, duh.”

“Annnnd if we’re friends, then I think you should definitely check out me and my band tonight. At the Hideout.”

Your head cocked to the side with confusion, and your eyes continued to stare. “You’re in a band?”

He laughed at your astonished state and nodded, “Corroded Coffin. Me, Gareth, Jeff, and Kevin. We write our own shit, but we cover a bunch of other metal songs, too. I guess I could work in a metal version of Like A Prayer just for you.”

The heart beating in your chest fluttered at the simple thought of him remembering the song you were currently obsessed with now. “You’d really do that for me? But it wouldn’t be really metal of you, though? Don’t want to ruin your whole look you’ve got going on.” You looked him up and down with a smirk on your face.

He whistled and shook his head with a grin, “Sweetheart, everything I do is metal—so will you be there?”

In a heartbeat, your head bobbed and a wide smile came up on his face. “Of course, what time?”

Eddie did his best to suppress his excitement with you coming to his show. He knew metal music wasn’t your thing, but to see your instant accord to go made him churn with pride and a mix of nervousness.

“9:30, you need a ride or anything?”

He wanted you to nod your head, yes, but internally frowned when you shook your head. “My dad actually just got my car fixed, so I’m fine to drive myself. Do you mind if I invited Robin? It’s just that she’s been trying to get into new music, so maybe she’d be into your stuff, too?”

“Sure, the more the merrier, angel.”

“It fucking reeks in here!” Steve’s stuffy voice called out through the loud music as held his nose shut.

You all walked into the small club where a bunch of old middle-aged men were drinking and smoking among the genetic tunes blaring in the tight space. You had never been here before, so this was all too new for you, but you promised Eddie and you were really not one to break any commitments, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start tonight.

“Where in the hell did you drag us?” Nancy ordered, having a seat at one of the empty tables as the rest of you follow.

“Hey, I only invited Robin, but you guys wanted to come along…and we’re here to support Eddie and his band.” You told them, crossing your legs as you took a glance at your watch. Five minutes until they would be coming out on stage.

“Jesus christ, when I said I wanted to listen to new music, I didn’t mean at the Hideout surrounded by drunks.” Robin choked, pointing at an old man passed out at the bar.

“I think the scene adds character. Eddie and his band are metal heads, so it would make sense they performed somewhere like this.” You argued, following the stage as you saw Gareth and the rest of the guys pop out, then Eddie last.

“Woo Hoo!” You applauded noisily, followed by a whistle, while the lights dimmed.

Eddie looked out into the small crowd and saw your frame, along with the three others, waving and clapping a bit. He gave you a nod with a smirk before delving into the show and getting absorbed in the heavy bass and drums of Corroded Coffin.

Metal was most definitely not Nancy or Steve’s cup of tea, but they seemed to tolerate it for the night, appreciating the deep lyrics of the songs as opposed to the instruments. To Robin’s surprise, she actually appreciated the music quite a bit, but not as much as you, who was bobbing your head to every song and dancing around in your seat the entire set. Now that the night was dwindling, Eddie announced one last song and looked over at you.

“And this last one is for a special angel who came to join us tonight. This is Like A Prayer, Corroded Coffin Style.”

“Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone, I hear you call my name, and it feels like home.”

Your jaw dropped and eyes widened as you watched the way Eddie’s voice beautifully carried the song, “No fuckin’ way!”

You quickly got up out of your seat, hands reaching out for Robins, pulling her along with you as you both danced to the beat of the song. Soon, Nancy and Steve even joined in, enjoying the metal rendition.

His eyes were trained on you while he continued singing the lyrics and his fingers moved against the frets. He had memorized the damn song in just a span of a few hours and somehow convinced his band mates to play along. The lyrics weren’t new to him as some of it was engrained into his memory after listening to you sing it on repeat during the time you and he would work on the project. And no different, just like the image of you dancing carelessly in a room full of people who stared, but they were all faceless to him. It was you who was engrained in his mind. Only you shone in the light, and you always did.

“Thanks everyone, have a goodnight.” Eddie finally ended the show earning hoots and howls from the drunks and, of course, you and your friends. He immediately set down his guitar and hopped off the stage, making his was over to you.

“Eddie, that was amazing!” Your arms had wrapped around his body in a tight hug that he quickly returned, wrapping you up in his arms and inhaling your warm vanilla scent. This was the first time you two were hugging. It felt strange, but still nice and homey.

“Really…you liked it?” He pulled away from you temporarily to look down at your dazzling smile that assured him that you did, in fact, enjoy the show more than you should’ve.

“I absolutely loved it and you kept your word with Madonna!” You hugged him again before he pulled away completely from the hug and swept his fingers through his ragged hair.

“I always keep more word, angel.”

Time seemed to freeze between you two, Eddie kept his eyes trained on you, fidgeting around, and your hands reaching behind you to twiddle with a smile still seeping on your face. That was, until Steve cleared his throat, resuming the moment.

“You guys did pretty good. Still not my type of music to get down to, though.” Steve patted Eddie’s back, earning a small nod.

Nancy stepped in, patting Eddie on the shoulder as well, one of her first real interactions with the metal head. “Yea, same here, but it was really nice to see you guys perform.”

“Well, I thoroughly enjoyed it a lot. Thanks for having us, although you didn’t necessarily invite me or Nancy, or Steve.” Robin spewed quickly as Eddie chuckled.

“You’re always welcome to come. We play Mondays, every other Friday’s and Sundays.”

They all nodded and waited for you to speak up, “Why don’t you guys get the car started? I’ll meet you out there in a minute.” You handed Robin your keys, and they all nodded, saying goodbye to Eddie as they left you two alone in the pub.

“Will you show me more?”

He scrunched-up face and wiggled around. “Huh?”

“More metal music? Maybe tomorrow or whenever you’re free?” You clarified, and he nodded quickly, snapping his fingers.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring some tapes. Maybe you can swing by Hellfire if you don’t have practice on Thursday?”

“You’re lucky Chrissy is the captain, and she likes me. I’ll be there!” You said giddily, your insides doing sommersaults, thinking about how much fun you two were going to have.

He looked just as excited, but knew it was getting late and you both still had class tomorrow. “Good—want me to walk you to your car?”

“Please?”

No questions needed as he simply rested a hand on your back and you fell into his touch, mindlessly leaning into him as he escorted you out the Hideout and the middle of the parking lot where the high beam lights from your car basically blinded the two of you.

“At this point they need to kiss.” Robin uttered from the backseat, watching the two figures make a little more small talk in the empty lot.

“Did you forget she’s still with Carver?” Steve flicked her shoulder, causing her to hiss at him.

“The pining between the two of them is killing me! Don’t they feel the connection they have?” Nancy whined, watching Eddie give you another tight hug.

“No, because the two of them are too damn oblivious, dancing around the very clear feelings that are present.” Robin bit her thumb, watching on.

“Does Jason even know she’s here?” Steve asked, shaking his head.

“Nope.” the girls answered, finally seeing the two of you pull away from the hug that seemed to last forever.

Eddie brushed some of your hair from your face and whispered, “Get home safe, alright?”

You bit your lip, nodding assuringly, “Mhm, see you Eds.”

One last smile was shared between you before you finally had to walk away, opening the driver’s door and buckling in, before you drove off you gave him a wave and you could see his mouth move, “See you, angel.”

Like you promised, you were there outside Hellfire on Friday, waiting for Eddie to let you in as you picked up footsteps and voices coming from the inside. Then, after a couple of seconds, you were greeted by his face and that smile you came to appreciate seeing on a daily basis.

“Hey—”

He instantly talked over you, guarding the door as he crossed both arms across his chest, “On a scale of one to ten, how good are you at giving advice, angel?”

“Umm, like maybe an eight…why?” You rose your brows only for Eddie to clap and turn his head to his friends, saying, “I’ve got just the person!”

His hand came to wrap gently around your wrist, pulling you into the room, “Hey this wasn’t a part of the deal!” You wailed as Eddie eventually let go, pulling out a chair for you, gesturing you to take a seat with his friends.

You sighed, setting down your things and sitting, “One of my boys really needs some help, and you’re the only other girl I know who seems to have some decent relationship advice.”

He patted your shoulder as he brushed past you, into his throne and you wondered out loud, “Yeah? And who might the other girl be?” lips turned up in curiosity and arms crossing your own chest.

He gestured over to a young girl, a redhead who sat by Lucas, who was skipping basketball practice to secretly attend Hellfire, though they weren’t playing. For a second, you thought that Eddie was hanging out with another girl…not that it even bothered you, anyway.

“Meet Red—” Eddie started before getting cut off.

“Max, my name is Max, I’m Lucas’ girlfriend.” She presented her hand towards you, which you shook politely before introducing yourself.

“Nice to meet you, too. Lucas didn’t tell me he had a pretty girlfriend.” You giggled, observing the young boy who blushed while she smiled proudly at the compliment.

“s’becuase they recently got back together. He pissed her off, so she had to put him in place.” Dustin chimed in as Max shrugged, leaning back in her chair.

“You’re fiery, I like that.” You commended seeing a smirk on her face before turning back to Eddie.

“Care to enlighten me about today’s conversation when we should be jamming out to some metal?”

He was flattered by your excitement at new music but, tapped his fingers against his collarbone, “Metal will come sooner or later. Mike upset his girlfriend…what’s her name again?”

He snapped trying to remember, glancing over at Mike who looked gloomy, “El—she doesn’t live here in Hawkins, she actually moved to Lenora a few months ago but her and her family might be moving back since they don’t really like it there.”

“So what happened with you and El?” You rested your head on your elbow, listening in to Mike’s story.

“She’s upset that I haven’t said “I love you…” I mean technically I did once, but I didn’t mean for her to hear it and now she just expects me to say it allllll the time, but I guess I just let it fly over my head because last night we got into a heated argument over the phone. She read all the letters I sent to her which ends with “From, Mike” instead of “Love Mike,” and now she won’t return any of my calls.”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded, taking a moment to recollect your thoughts and the best possible advice you could give him to save the relationship.

“When she brought it up, what did you say?”

“That I do say it—”

“But you just told me you don’t?”

“That’s what we’re saying!” Lucas, Dustin, and Max all shouted in unison, making you bite back a laugh that you so badly wanted to let out.

“God, would you guys shut up and let me speak!” Mike huffed out in irritation, turning back to you and groaning.

“I-I just think I have a hard time saying it. I mean, I’ve only ever told my friends I love you in a platonic way, but it’s harder to do romantically. I gotta fix this because hearing her cry over the phone and being able to do nothing sucked.”

He sounded terribly awful about the whole situation and seemed like he really wanted to make it up to his girl. This freshman was doing more to make up for his shitty behavior than Jason ever did in the year of you two dating, and it kinda stung to think about, but you brushed it off, not wanting to make the situation about yourself.

“Hey at least you can admit your wrongs and there’s nothing wrong with not being able to say I love you to someone romantically, I can relate to that.” You grabbed Mike’s hand thoughtfully as everyone turned to you and looked in perplexity.

“Wait, you’ve never said I love you to Carver? Haven’t you been dating for like a year?” Lucas furrowed his brows, and you nodded, plainly.

Your eyes peered around confused, “Yeah and?” your shoulders bounced, seeing all their faces drop in shock.

Mike started first, “Well, me and El have been going out for a while too, but I’ve said it once. Granted, she wasn’t supposed to hear it, but I still said it.”

Then there was Dustin, “Me and my girlfriend Suzie say it all the time—and yes, for the millionth time, she does exist, it’s called long distance people!” He looked at his friends who rolled their eyes skeptically.

And last, Max, “Lucas and I say we love each other every time we see each other and every time we say goodbye, it’s cute.”

Gareth’s unexpected voice entered the scene, taking you by surprise, “Jesus Christ, I thought you two were in love, always kissing in the middle of the halls and the cafeteria—”

Eddie, who seemed to have his eyes focused on you the entire time, picked up on your body language and realized you were feeling extremely judged at this moment. Your relationship with Jason put under a microscope that you were finally getting the chance to see up close and personal, recognizing the flaws that lingered between your union ship and feeling a bit disappointed that neither you nor Jason even uttered those three sentimental words.

He felt like shit for practically dragging you into the dragon’s den of attacks and stuck up for you immediately, hoping it would alleviate some of the anxiety you were facing.

“Gareth, shut it! Ignore them angel, they’re dumb.” Eddie spat, pointing a finger at his bandmate and friend, who shrunk in his seat while the rest of the grew rolled their eyes.

You shook your head towards the innocent guy, “No, no, no it’s fine, I-I guess I just never really thought about saying it—”

“Has he said it to you? I mean, he must have, right?” This time Kevin spoke as you turned to shake your head no.

“Well, aren’t we just learning something new about you every day?” Jeff chuckled tightly before going back to doodling in his notebook.

“I mean….do you love him?” Max asked you. The staring of everyone made you somewhat uneasy and the hand that was resting on Mike’s pulled back into your lap as you fidgeted.

“I don’t….w-what necessarily constitutes love?” Your voice whispered, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, and Dustin vehemently sighed, hands moving around in disbelief.

“Oh, my god is she serious right now?” He looked at his friends and then Eddie, who scowled at him disapprovingly.

“Henderson, be nice or else you’re outta here.” Eddie warned with a point, chucking an eraser scrap at him.

“Well, for one, attractiveness…does your stomach fill with butterflies every time you see him?” Max threw it at you, and not even a few seconds later, there was Lucas.

“Two, passion…do you have strong feelings for him, like wanting to spend lots of time together doing things you both enjoy?”

Max cut in abrubtly, adding onto Lucas’ statement, “Even things you may not necessarily enjoy but he does…you’ll even pick up on a thing or two that he likes and he’ll do the same for you.”

Last was Dustin, “And three respect…does he make you feel wanted and respected at all times? Does he talk to you with kindness and make the effort?”

How in the hell did these freshman throw these troublesome questions your way? You’ll never know, but what you did know was that you didn’t have a straight yes or no answer to any of them. But that had to be normal, right? Because love isn’t the same for everyone, right?

“Earth to angel, you still there?” Eddie leaned out of his throne, waving a hand in front of your face until you snapped out of your blank stare and wiggled in your seat.

“I-I don’t know….look El just might be a very emotional person, so it’s best if you two talk it out like adults. Hear her out and take the time to explain yourself to her—find common ground or something. Hell, maybe even write her a sweet poem or a song to make her feel reassured. You might not need to say it if you’re that terrified, but at least express it through your actions.” You said, resting your palms on the desk before getting up.

“Write her a song? Why would she want me to write her a song?” Mike stuttered out confused, watching you gathering your things in your hands.

“I’d want someone to write me a song if I was down. It’s romantic and thoughtful.” You replied, finally gripping tightly to your poms.

“W-where are you going?” Eddie asked, standing up from his throne to watch you sigh and walk towards the door.

“I got to go talk to someone, we’ll do a raincheck for music…I’ll see you tomorrow Eds, and good luck Mike.” You smiled, hastily shutting the door and racing over to the gym where you know basketball practice was happening.

Eddie grimaced, watching you run out of the room before hearing the door close shut, “You dipshits.” He sighed, looking at the kids, who shrugged nonchalantly.

“Jason!” you shouted, securing the attention of the entire team as the thud of the ball bouncing against the vinyl floor deliberately stopped.

He immediately rushed over to you with hands out to his side in confusion, “Babe, I thought you went home because you weren’t feeling good? What’s the matter?”

“I-I need to talk to you…can you get out of practice? Come to my house to talk?”

“Babe—”

“Please, this is all I ever ask from you.”

Instead of trying to reason, Jason walked away from you defeated, heading up to his coach to tell him he needed to take his sick girlfriend home immediately.

“This better be good,” Jason grumbled, picking up his bag and walking past you, heading to his car as he drove to your house.

“Why weren’t you already at home? You told me you weren’t feeling good at the end of school, at that was over an hour—”

“I went to Hellfire alright? I had to help out Nancy’s brother with something.” You confessed, staring out the window, feeling Jason’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

“Hellfire?! That satanic cult run by that freak? I thought I told you he and the rest of them were dangerous! He’s a goddamn teenage dirtbag if I ever saw one!”

You shook your head in disbelief, turning to scowl at him, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“It means that he and the rest of them are a bunch of losers who are going nowhere in life!”

Thank god he didn’t see your eyes roll when you turned back the other way. Your right hand gripping the seat under you angrily, almost tearing the leather and cushion apart with your nails.

“For once, can’t you just drop that act? I told you they’re good kids who are just a little misunderstood by you and clearly everyone else at Hawkins who has a superiority complex!” Now your voice was spewing with venom and rage over this ludicrous claim.

“You’re naïve, so fucking naïve and stupid for believing that!” He slammed his hands on the steering wheel angrily while you stayed quiet the rest of the drive, not wanting to make matters worse and end up in a preventable accident.

When he pulled up to your home, you instantly unbuckled and snatched your things, slamming his passenger door shut. He observed you with annoyance, not speaking a word to him and keeping a blank face.

“So that’s it we’re not even going to talk?!” He shouted out of the window as you turned, “Well maybe if you got out and followed some social cues you’d see I’m leading you into my home so we can talk like civil individuals.”

He flared his nostrils before turning off his car and following behind you as you unlocked the door and let the two of you into the empty home, as your parents were still both on the way home from work.

“Sit.” You demanded dropping your things on the floor and pointing to the couch that faced the front of the living room.

“I’ll say this alright…I’m sorry for lying to you about feeling sick and going to Hellfire. It was wrong of me to lie to you, but it doesn’t excuse your cruel words that you used to terrorize them. I want this to be the last conversation we have about it, understood?”

You held your hands on your hips, looking down at him, resting his elbows on his thighs, and he nodded pitifully.

“Do you love me?”

“What?”

“You heard me—do you love me, Jason Carver?”

“Of course I do—”

“What is it you love about me?”

“Your smile, your hair, your eyes—”

You shut your eyes tightly, cutting him off, “Something that doesn’t have to do with my body.”

Silence. It lingered between the two of you for too long before you finally opened your eyes and caught his sorrowful face. You’ve been together for a year and he couldn’t even name something besides a physical trait of yours that he loved about you. It told you a lot about his character, something you should’ve analyzed a long time ago before this went too far.

“What are we even doing!” You sighed, bowing on the floor, running your hands through your hair in heartache.

“What are you talking about—”

“I mean, what are we even doing together, Jason! You, me, us, why are we together if we don’t feel anything?” You waved your hands between the both of you and he shook his head, eyebrows raised high.

“I do feel something, baby. I love you, you know that.” He came up beside you brushing your hair out of your face, trying to look through your soul but finding nothing.

You just shook your head, pushing his hands away from you,“Don’t say that because we both know it’s a lie—”

“It’s not a lie! God, what is up with you these days?!”

“When’s the last time you held my hand? Asked about my day? Do you even know what my favorite song it? Tell me Jason? Do you know anything about me at all?” You practically shouted with resentment, knowing that he didn’t know the answer to any of the simple questions.

Again there was silence accompanied by his grunts of dissatisfaction, still trying to reason that he did in fact love you, but you knew that just wasn’t true as it fell on your deaf ears.

“I can’t be with you anymore Jason, alright? I—I thought that’d I’d be satisfied with the two of us together, you know cheerleader and jock, but that’s just all a bunch of bullshit…I need to be with someone who truly knows me, not a person who looks at me like I’m arm candy.”

Your feet backed away from him, signaling it was his time to go, but he stayed, retaliating against your wishes.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to throw a year of us being together away? Because what? Oh! Let me guess! I don’t give you the thrill that Eddie Munson does, right? I knew I shouldn’t have let you hang out with that son of a—”

“What the hell does Eddie have to do with anything that I just said, Jason?”

Now you were pissed. How dare he try to blame this on Eddie when all along it was his fault. Too caught up in his goddamn ego to ever care about you as his girlfriend and now that you had realized your worth he was tryign to twist this. You should’ve known this is some shit he would try to pull.

“Don’t you see neither of us are happy here? All we ever do is fight there days! In your eyes I do everything wrong, and I try to tell myself that you can change and maybe you can, but I’m not happy anymore and you need to accept that!” Your finger pointed at him while the other hand wiped away the tears that leaked from the corner of your eyes.

“I don’t have to accept shit!” His voiced terrified you along with his figure moving to back you up against your walls, his fingers inches from your face.

When your back hit the wall, your heart shook, he could do anything to you now with nowhere for you to run. You’ve never seen Jason this angry before…was this the real him?

“Your mind has been corrupted by the devil and I will not allow you to continue to act like a sinner and throw everything that I’ve worked so hard to build for our futures!” His voice was so low yet vulgar, eardrums rattling while you flinched with each word, trying to appear not intimidated, but it was too hard not to be.

“J-Jason please, you’re scaring me…stop, don’t hurt me, p-please.” Your voice shuddered with fear and eyes distorting with more tears, not knowing what Jason was capable of and warning yourself to be careful with your comments.

“No, you need to understand that we are meant to be and—”

“Step away from her!”

A breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding escaped when your father’s voice bellowed through the living room and pulled Jason away from your space.

“Sir, I can explain it’s not what it looks like!” He held his hands up in defense, looking to you for support but you shook your head, keeping your eye on your dad’s grip that tightened around the collar of Jason’s jersey.

“Please, just leave Jason…and don’t ever come back.” You sobbed quietly as your voice snapped, eyes never meeting his again as they stayed looking at the hardwood floors, watching his feet scuffle out of your home with your father leading the way.

Hearing his car drive off, you ran up the stairs, making a beeline towards your room and collapsing face first on your pillow, soaking up your tears as you sobbed hoarsely. A year’s worth of pain erupting from your sockets after having to put up with him without ever realizing the impending damage his ways had on you. For a while, you thought that Jason and you were truly meant to be, but for the last couple of weeks, it just felt hollow between you two. And no matter how much you wanted to stick around and see the good in Jason finally reveal itself, you couldn’t be that person for him.

No one bothered you.

Not your dad.

Not your mom after your dad told her what happened.

Nobody.

They knew it was better for you to be left alone to deal with your feelings. It’s not that your parents didn’t care, it was actually quite the opposite. But they just couldn’t understand you sometimes—ever since you were a kid, they said you were just “too emotional.” And instead of forcing them to try to understand you, you accepted the fact that they were good parents, but just not emotional available for you to confide in.

The next day when Eddie walked into second period, he furrowed his brows, seeing your seat empty. You were never absent, so this was odd. And he knew you weren’t going to be late. You never showed up late, either. Attendance was always important to you, so he knew right away that something was up.

That thought was backed up again when he walked into the lunchroom not seeing you sitting with Nancy and Robin or even Jason. He thought he could brush off the thoughts but you not showing up without a notice didn’t sit right with him…it was like he had a gut feeling that something was off.

He pushed his lunch tray away from his, standing up from his seat without saying a word, causing his friends to react, “Where are you going, man?” Gareth asked stopping Eddie in his tracks.

“I—um, gotta go home, not feeling well…we’re cancelling Hellfire tonight, alright?”

“What! You never cancel Hellfire this is—”

Eddie quickly shushed Dustin, gesturing him to calm down with a simple stare. “I’ll make up for it next week, alright? You can be DM, so work on it over the weekend.”

“Holy shit, yeah, ok, yeah, take care Eddie! I love you, man!” The younger boy shouted at his role model as Eddie walked away and went straight to Nancy and Robin.

He rested his palms on the lunch table, the two girls staring at him dumbfounded, “Hey Munson, what’s up?” Robin spoke, resting her fork down on her plate.

“She didn’t show today?” His fingers tapped anxiously on the top, watching their faces fall with a sad nod, not having seen you this morning either in the halls before class.

“Maybe she had a sick day?” Nancy proposed, which may have been plausible, but still, it was just so unlike you.

He shook his head no and closed his eyes tightly, “She was perfectly fine yesterday so her being sick wouldn’t match up….plus I would’ve noticed if she was under the weather or something.”

It was as if he was talking to himself, trying to formulate the exact reasoning why you didn’t come to school today, and Nancy and Robin couldn’t stop kicking each other under the table over how Eddie was so head over heels for you.

“Do you guys have her phone number or anything?” He tapped his foot against the floor rigorously as the girls each responded.

“I have her landline written in my phone book at home? If you give me your number, I could call you when I get home and give it to you?”

“I can get into her file at Family Video and get you her number from there. But I don’t start my shift until 5:30 and I can only do it when Keith isn’t there or else I’m fired.”

He sighed, shaking it head, knowing he had to get into contact with you soon before he lost his mind worrying. His eyes searched around the cafeteria, hoping he could find someone he knew had your number memorized by heart…other than Jason, of course, but he doubted his pebble sized brain could memorize such an important set of numbers.

“Chrissy.” He mumbled to himself seeing the ginger smiling happily with the other cheerleaders. She was the only other girl on the team that you were friends with, and Eddie remembered that.

“Thanks for the help, ladies, but I think I know who just might have it.” He patted their table, and they nodded, watching as he walked over to the jocks and cheerleader table for the first time.

“Pssst…Chrissy!” He attempted to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to cause a scene today.

She turned, eyes widened with curiosity, “Hmm—oh…h-hi?”

“Can I talk to you outside? I’ll be quick, please?”

Although hesitant at first, Chrissy remembered how you and Eddie’s interactions seemed to have been friendly and sweet, if you could trust him, and she certainly could.

“Yeah, ok.” She whispered back, watching as Eddie quickly exited the cafeteria and waiting for her by the lockers.

Seconds later, she approached him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, “What’s up?”

“She didn’t show up at school today, and I’m worried sick.” He blurted out, and a stunned look took over her face and she nodded sympathetically.

“Yeah, she actually called me this morning saying she was going to miss practice today but didn’t say why,” A frown covered her face, “she sounded a bit upset, though.”

“Like…like sad upset or angry upset?” Eddie asked curiously, and she shrugged, her palm moving from side to side, trying to recall your mood.

“A little bit of both, but more on the sad side.”

He just nodded and stared at the ground for a couple of seconds debating if he should give you some space but Chrissy’s voice came to him, “I don’t know if it’s true but Jason is going around saying he’s single now, so maybe that has something to do with it?”

“What?” He flashed his eyes back to hers and she bowed sadly, “He really seems to not care or if he does he’s doing a pretty damn good job of looking like he doesn’t give a shit for losing a good girl like her.” She rolled her eyes, just thinking about Carver’s stupid face.

“Shit…do you think I could umm…I don’t know maybe get her number? I just want to call and check up on her…you know, as friends?” He fretted with the chunky rings on his fingers and she nodded, reaching out for a pen, and Eddie quickly fished one out from his backpack and passed it over to her.

She caught him by surprise, pulling at his hand, writing the number in his palm with messy black ink.

“She like’s pizza…doesn’t really matter the toppings as long as there’s pineapple chunks somewhere on there, she loves it.”

Eddie furrowed his brows but didn’t question her, somehow filing that precious piece of information in his brain’s catalog knowing that there was a reason she was spilling this material.

“And she really likes that Meadow Gold strawberry ice cream. It’s in an enormous tub but one time her and I finished it in one sitting.” She giggled a little, remembering the sleepover you and she had a few months back.

Finally she capped the pen, looking up at Eddie, who seemed to be making a mental note of the few things you liked, “Hey…Eddie?”

“Huh…yeah, sorry?” He scratched his forehead, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at Chrissy, who rested a comforting arm on his shoulder.

“You’re a good guy and I know she trusts you…I see it in the way she interacts with you. I mean, I haven’t even seen her be that comfortable with Jason and they were together for a year—you did something to her, it’s made her happy.”

“You think so?” A small smile broke out on Eddie’s face, and she nodded, giggling like a goddamn third grader.

“I really do, and if you want my advice, I think you shouldn’t bother with calling. Show up to her place—”

He cut her off, “I don’t want to seem like a creep.”

“Trust me, you don’t come off as a creep to her, plus its…umm…it’s more romantic if you show up at her front door.”

Eddie coughed out at the use of that melodramatic and cliche word, “R-Romantic?”

“Yeah, that’s how you get the girl…so if I were you get moving, Eddie.” She patted him one more time on the shoulder before he thanked her and rushed down the corridors and out to the parking lot, hopping into this van.

He debated his choices for a while, thinking if he should take Chrissy’s advice and show up to your door unannounced or whether to make a call to you first. For one, he really didn’t want to seem like a stalking creep, and who knows, if by chance you were sick, he was being dramatic and showing up for absolutely nothing and interrupting your rest. But then again, he just had to physically see you to make sure you were ok especially after hearing what Chrissy had to say to him.

Instead of taking the turn he would usually take to go to your home, he went straight deciding to stop at the grocery store to pick up some of your favorite things and then some—the worst that could happen was you turn him away and take the things he got for you. But that was enough for him. As long as he knew you were alright, he could sleep soundly.

Being desperate and still not wanting to look like a creep, he quickly copied your number onto a ripped piece of cardboard he had lying around in his van and licked his palm, rubbing away the black into onto his black jeans. He took a deep breath, grabbing everything from the van and walking out the front door to ring your doorbell.

“Go away.” You mumbled to yourself, hearing the chime of the doorbell echoing throughout your house.

At this point, you had a raging headache and had to make the decision to stay home from school after crying all night. You just couldn’t shake the disappointment you had for Jason. The year that you wasted with him that was always empty and you didn’t understand why you stayed.

Again the doorbell rung, this time a couple of times causing you to groan and get up from your bed, jogging down the stairs and whipping the door open ready to tear a new asshole for the person interrupting your crying session—

“We have the no solicitors signs out front for a—Eddie?” You stopped yourself mid-sentence, staring at a tense but grinning Eddie.

“Hiya angel.” He stood there in front of you, a bouquet of flowers in one hand while the other balanced a pizza box, tub of ice cream, and a few bags of candy and chips.

“H-hey, what are you doing here?” You hastily wiped away at your cheeks, hoping there were no obvious tears, but your red eyes told Eddie all he needed to know.

“Came to check up on you since you didn’t show today. I was worried sick.” He admitted, and you honestly felt like you could collapse onto the floor with how thoughtful he was.

“Y-yeah…I’m good.” Your voice was failing to match your words, and you sighed, shaking your head and running a hand through your messy hair, “Who am I kidding? I’m not ok, I feel like shit.”

The two of you shared a soft and short laugh before Eddie spoke up.

“Can I come in? Maybe we can talk about it?” He offered, and you nodded, stepping away from the door to make way for him before shutting and locking it.

You guided him up the stairs into your room, which was a disaster at this point. The photos of you and Jason that used to flood the walls were torn down and stuffed into the trashcan in the corner of your room. Some of the clothes that Jason had lent you were in a trash bag, along with the gifts he presented you throughout your relationship with him. Along with crying last night, you just wanted to get rid of anything that reminded you of him so that you could finally move on without feeling like you were still surrounded by him in your own room.

“Sorry about the mess. It was a rough night.” You motioned towards the mess before gesturing at your bed so he could sit down.

He was hesitant at first, not because it was his first time in your room. Hell, he’d been in here a couple of times with you before working on Smith’s chemistry project. But this time you weren’t your happy-go-lucky self that you usually were, but he was determined to make you feel good as new.

Eddie quickly nodded, setting down the food first, before standing in front of you awkwardly, “I umm…I got these for you.”

The assortment of flowers were right in front of your face and you grinned faintly, taking it from him and giving him a hug that he quickly returned. It felt nice being in his arms after going through the most difficult and emotionally night, “Thank you, Eds.”

He didn’t let go, not until your unwrapped your arms first, knowing that you probably needed the comfort, “Yeah, of course, it was no problem, really.” He stumbled a bit with his words, finally taking a seat, followed by you sitting next to him.

“Did I miss anything important at school today?” You asked, looking over at him, and he shook his head.

“Just a few notes in Chem, left before gym, but I doubt its anything important.” He informed you and you nodded, looking down at your knees where your hands rested.

“Pizza?” He reached down to grab the box, opening it towards you. The smell of fresh dough and tomato sauce filled hit your nostrils, and you grinned seeing the yellow fruits that scatters on the tops of the slices.

“How’d you know I like pineapple pizza?” You rose your brow, happily picking up a slice and taking a bite.

Eddie chuckled, watching you eat before responding, “A little birdie told me so.” he said simply, taking his own slice and eating.

“Did that little birdie also tell you I like strawberry ice cream by the tub?” You nodded towards the bring pink container seated on your floor and he nodded, still chewing his food.

“Yup, had to make sure I got the best for you, angel.”

“You’re too sweet, Eddie.”

“So is everything alright? Kinda ran off yesterday and I got worried…and sorry about the kids, they’re just talking out of their ass, they don’t know shit about—”

Your eyes widened, shaking your head, stopping Eddie in his tracks of apologizing and looking at you in confusion, “Those kids helped me realize I made the biggest mistake in my life.”

He rose his brows curiously. “Which is what, exactly?”

“That Jason and I were never good together…I broke up with him yesterday afternoon,” You set down your half-eaten slice back into the box, dusting the crumbs off your hands.

He mirrored your actions, watching closely as you raked a rough pass of your fingers through your hair before letting your back hit the mattress.

You took a deep breath staring at your glum popcorn covered ceiling, “I don’t think I ever loved him, Eddie.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart,” He tried to reassure you, his face coming into view hovering over you to watch your face display a sorrowful smile and your chest rise momentarily with a “hmph”

“He was my boyfriend for a year, Eds, and never did I ever feel loved by him, and never did I ever feel like I loved him. And—and I don’t understand why I only realized this yesterday, because now I just feel so…..just empty, y’know?”

Truly, Eddie didn’t know much about the whole relationship thing, but for you, he wanted to understand. You had come to him and shared some of the most intimate details of you and Jason’s relationship and Eddie sat there and listened, cracking jokes to try to cheer you up, but he knew that today was different. He wanted to be there for you.

He exhaled deeply, laying back beside you and resting his hands on his stomach, “Feeling so out of place with someone when you’re supposed to be feeling whole?”

The sheets of your bed wrinkling as you nodded your head, “Exactly like that! It’s like this whole time I was living in false happiness with Jason….I was just so undervalued by him. Like—like if I didn’t go along with what he wanted or turned myself into who he wanted me to be, he would make me feel so bad about myself—as if I was the bad person!”

You were screaming more so at the ceiling now, finally pouring your heart out after facing so much unresolved conflict with Jason. No one ever knew about the below surface issues that you dealt with in your relationship, because you never found it in yourself to tell anyone. If you ever did say anything to Nancy, Robin, or even Chrissy, it would be about the minor arguments, and to say that Jason rudely confronting Eddie at the Family Video was a little quarrel said a lot.

“Remember how we ran into each other at Family Video?”

He turned to his side now, resting his head up on his elbow as he faced you, nodding his head, “Yeah, what about it?”

“Jason got upset with me because I wanted to rent Dirty Dancing. Dirty. Fuckin’. Dancing.” hands moving around in the air sporadically, hitting a fist into your palm punctuating each word with frustration and anger, “For crying out loud he basically shamed me all because I wanted to watch a movie that I’ve been excited about! Who would ever want to make their girlfriend feel that way!?”

“Rhetorical question,” Eddie told himself, waiting until you were ready to start talking again as silence begun taking over your small room.

The tears started filling your orbs, blurring the ceiling into a cloudy mess, until finally you blinked, letting them flow off your temples, “A-and yesterday was just pure….chaos.”

His heart broke and concern brewed in his chest listening to your voice break and relentless tears cascaded onto the bed. He reached over calmly, wiping his thumb gently past your under eyes. The touch reminding you that you were safe here, closing your eyes and letting him be the comfort you so desperately yearned for.

“You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to,” Eddie murmured ever so gently, this time his fingers pulling away the wet hairs that stuck to the side of your face.

You shook your head, finally opening your eyes to be greeted by his staring deeply into your soul. This whole time he was looking at you like this and you had no idea. He looked so…..complete?

“H-he was so angry, Eddie, just kept screaming at me and talking to me like….like I-I wasn’t even human,” hiccuped cries occupied the room now and you couldn’t stop yourself from burying your face closer to his chest. His Hellfire shirt swamped with your salty tears and your open mouth breathing heavily into his chest.

The arm that was holding his head up swiftly traveled around your neck, carefully pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible—the other arm soothed your back with comforting circles as he whispered reassuring words and phrases.

“You’re ok, I’m right here….shhh, everything is gonna be alright,” his voice echoed through your ears, giving you the courage to continue talking about everything.

Your face pulled away only inches from his chest so that he could hear you clearly, “K-kept telling me that he and I belonged together and when I refused, he—”

Eddie’s faced screwed in anger, pulling you aways bit so that you could look up at his face, “He put his hands on you?” his voice was stern, filled with worry as he did his best to store the anger back, knowing this wasn’t the time or place for him to get riled up over someone putting their hands on you.

You shook your head and a bit of relief settled on Eddie’s face, only for a second though, “Backed me into the wall. M-my dad came home before he could do anything else.”

“Son of a bitch.” He gritted it through his teeth, pulling you back into his chest in a safe hug, his head resting on top of yours in a way to soothe you both. Mostly him, knowing he could’ve gotten up and went to find Carver to show him a piece of his mind—

Your hands, removed themselves from his chest, instead wrapping around him too, “Why did he treat me like that?”

He sighed, shaking his head, unknowingly because he truly didn’t know. You were in angel. Why would anyone want to hurt you let alone treat you so inadequately?

“He never deserved you…you’re waaay too good for him and he probably knew that, but instead of cherishing you, he took advantage of your kindness. God, no one deserves you sweetheart, you’re too good for this world, too good for any lousy guy here.”

You sniffled mumbling against him, but he couldn’t make out what you said, so he hummed causing you to repeat it a little louder, “I….I don’t feel that way, most times I just feel like—maybe I’m just not destined for love.”

“Oh, angel, no that’s not true…not at all and not even a little bit.”

He brought you away from his chest, his hands cradling your face in his hold, while he thumbs away your falling tears, “Anyone would be so lucky to have you, sweetheart.”

Your lips quivered, feeling so vulnerable yet secure with him. His words held real meaning and weight, and you knew that. But you couldn’t quite put your finger one why you were so gravitated towards him. Why he was able to make you feel like this when when all this time you were craving this kind of affection and softness in your—

“Oh shit….you liked Eddie,”

His forehead creased, catching your dazed teary eyes, “you, still with me, sweetheart?”

Eyes blinking rapidly, this time no tears behind them falling, just pure admiration for him, “Y-yeah, you just…you know how to make me feel better.”

A smile covered his face now as he shook his head at your compliment, “You just cried your eyes out and now you’re thanking me?”

“Hmmm, you’re always there for me….even when you don’t have to be.”

He was looking at you in such awe now, his fingers still cradling your face just as an excuse to feel you, “Well, I want to be here for you. You should know that by now.”

Your chest bubbled with a tiny laugh while his fingers pinched the apples of your cheeks earnestly, “I mean first it was renting out Dirty Dancing for you, then being your knight in shining leather when your car broke down…angel what’s next? Saving you from an alternate dimension with big scary monsters?”

Pursing his lips questioning while you rolled your eyes, light laughter filled your bedroom now as if he snuck in some sort of magic to make all the sadness disappear. “Will you still be there for me?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.”

His touch sadly left your skin as he sat up, hands reaching into his pockets to retrieve his car keys, “Give me a sec, I’ll be right back.”

You leaned up on your elbows, listening to his footsteps that jogged down the stairs and out the front door before coming back up with a wide smirk on his pretty face.

“Still up for some metal music?”

His fingers twirled around some tapes as you giggled, getting up and stealing one of them from his hands and popping it into your player. The two of you spent the afternoon listening to music, Eddie explaining each of the bands and the meaning behind the songs. He taught you how to head bang, and despite worrying about the whiplash and neck cramps you’d be feeling tomorrow, it was nice.

Just the two of you here, like this.

No fancy shit. You, Eddie, and the fleeting time that you wanted more of.

“He called me a what!?” Eddie asked unbelievably, stabbing his spoon back into the softening tub of pink goop as you toppled on the floor, giggling like a maniac.

“A teenage dirtbag!”

Eddie joined in on the laughter, inching his way over to you on the floor, taking your shoulders into his hands as he stared down at your still laughing body, “What does that even mean?!”

“I dunno, probably like a person who likes metal music and is in their very own band…super duper cool if you ask me.”

Jesus, he wanted to kiss you so badly, and you wanted to do the same. But instead laughter seemed to incite the same electricity kissing would have. Filling that void for the two of you, but who knew how long it would last?

You sat back up, inches away from his face, your fingers brushing his messy curls behind his ears, “Do you think if we submit a picture of you to Merriam Webster we could get you in the dictionary for Teenage Dirtbag?”

“You dork.” He shook his head, trying to conceal his smile as you threw your head back laughing, “Since you like metal music now, I guess you’re a dirtbag too.”

He poked your nose playfully and beamed, “Touche….then both of us can be in the dictionary!”

You moved back over, spooning a bite of strawberry ice cream into your mouth, while you watched Eddie do the same you spoke with a half full mouth, “Eds, what’re you doing next Friday?”

“Hellfire—why?” He sucked on the spoon, waiting for you to respond.

“Oh, I was just going to ask if you wanted to come to the game so you could see me cheer….but it’s totally ok! I know Hellfire is super importan—”

“I’ll be there.” He announced happily as your eyes widened.

“Really?”

He chuckled, not bothering to answer, instead getting back up and offering his hand. “What d’ya say, we get out of here? We’ll go throw out all this junk and hit up a nice spot, I know.”

Your eyes trailed to the trash bags of Jason’s things and meaningless gifts he’s gotten you, some of which Eddie had pulled out of the bag making fun of his stupid blonde hair and trashing the church music cassettes he got you for your birthday last year.

Nodding, you took his hand, timidly intertwining them as he went and picked up two of the full trash bags with his other, “Oh wait!”

Tugging him along to your desk, you plucked the Iron Maiden tape out from your player. He smiled at the small action knowing you had taken a liking to one of his favorite bands, “You can keep that one,”

You raised your brows, reaching over to open the front door for him, “Are you sure?”

“Yup, think of it as a present…plus I’ve got another at home,” He smiled, letting go of your hand as he pulled the passenger door of his van open for you.

The tape was now pressed to your heart as you thanked him with your infectious smile, “I’ll cherish this forever!”

He was fucked…he really liked this girl.

“I don’t know! Do you really think he’ll show?”

You were a skittish wreck in Chrissy’s bedroom, pacing back and forth from her closet door to the window as she sat calmly at her vanity, sweeping on her signature blue shadow across her eyelids. She watched you from the mirror’s reflection and giggled lightly, seeing her friend in such a frenzy over the one and only Eddie Munson.

“Of course he will! Now come on, sit, and let me touch up your hair.” Chrissy suggested, getting up from her seat and looking over at your slump shoulders that made their way into the chair.

“I don’t know why I’m so worried about seeing him, I mean I’m never nervous to see him…I don’t know why I feel like this.” You rambled on and on as she redid some of the curls in your hair and fixed the bow that was keeping your ponytail intact.

“Have you ever thought it’s because you have a crush on him?” She smirked, watching your cheeks turn beet red and your fingers squeezing the edge of the cushioned chair, trying not to freak out at the idea that left her lips, which actually was your little secret.

“Chrissy!” You gasped, shaking your head while she threw her head back and giggled profusely at seeing you so flustered.

“I do not have a crush on him, alright! He’s like one of my good friends.” Your posture straightened as if you were trying to prove something to her when in reality it was really you trying to prove it yourself. You were lying straight through your teeth for no use, Chrissy already knowing you had a crush on him and he had one for you too.

Chrissy’s amusement eventually died down, and she wrapped her arms around you, resting her head on her shoulder staring at you in the mirror with her toothy smile, “I’m just messing with you, and besides you look beautiful and you’re going to kill it tonight just like you do every game. Eddie will be there and he’ll be so mesmerized by you, just like he always is.”

Her words caused you to fall into a daydream, picturing Eddie in the stands watching you go full out with your routine as he clapped and cheered along with the kids, who waved and smiled at you. When the game was over, you’d run into his arms and give him the biggest—

The strong spray from the aresol can pull you out of that dream and caused you to cough loudly, seeing Chrissy coating your curls with hairspray and fluffy them up, “So enough panicking and more getting pumped for tonight, alright?”

They were all mildly uncomfortable, feeling way more out of place than normal when they stepped foot in the gymnasium, “I can’t believe you actually cancelled Hellfire to come here.” Mike called out through the loud gym filled with too many students for Eddie’s liking.

Dustin swatted Mike’s arm as they weaved their way through the stands trying to find some open seats, “Tonight could be Lucas’ night and we’re here to support him. Isn’t that right, Eddie?”

He looked over at the older man who said nothing except scan the gym, trying to find you somewhere on the court, maybe doing stretches or warming up with the other cheerleaders, but he couldn’t quite find you yet.

“Really…this is what you gave up being DM for?” Mike whispered to Dustin, pointing at Eddie, who seemed lost in a daze.

“He’s looking for her, I know it!” Max leaned into their conversation and the boys stifled their chuckles, knowing she was most likely right.

“Earth to Eddie, are you still with us?” Dustin snapped his fingers in front of his face, causing Eddie to snarl a bit.

“What is it Henderson?”

“I asked you where Gareth, Jeff, and Kevin were?” He lied in an attempt to finally catch Eddie’s attention.

He finally looked down at him and rolled his eyes, “They didn’t wanna come. Sucks for them, right?”

“Didn’t expect to see you guys here!” Robin’s voice came into sound as she, Nancy, and Steve approached, taking a seat next to them.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with the band?” Max questioned looking at Robin who giggled, “Told them I had to pick up an emergency shift at Family Video. Thank god you guys picked good seats, or they’d bust me.”

“Dingus,” Steve muttered, earning a pinch to the side, causing him to yelp and bicker with Robin for a bit, “Hey, don’t you guys have Hellfire tonight?”

“Came by to support Lucas.” Eddie said, shaking Steve's hands and nodding over at the girls, who smiled.

“Not to burst your bubble, but hasn’t he been on the bench for the last twelve games?” Nancy asked, looking at everyone who frowned and nodded.

It wasn’t Lucas’ fault at all for being on the bench for the beginning of the season. He was actually an incredibly talented kid who just so happened to be on a team with a bunch of meatheads who didn’t want to admit that they actually sucked compared to him.

“Tonight’s going to be different, I feel it.” Eddie reassured them all as their attention went back to the court hearing the horn blare followed by cheers and the band beginning to play.

His eyes veered to the cheerleaders who dashed through the gym entrance shaking their brightly colored pom-poms in the air, getting the crowd riled up for the night. Out of the twenty something girls who stood out on the court, only you stood out to him. He found you instantly the second you ran out there. He couldn’t miss you as you were a sight for sore eyes with your broad smile and twinkling eyes.

“He’s here!” Chrissy nudged you repeatedly, still shaking the poms in her fists as she pointed her chin in his direction.

Your eyes darted to him instantly, catching a glimpse of his cheeky smile and his head of curly hair, “Hi angel.” You could see his mouth say.

“Hi!” you mouthed back, waving your poms at him eagerly and he chuckled wiggling his fingers at you before the basketball players rushed out, signalling you and the girls to take a seat at the benches to watch them game periodically getting up to motivate the players until half time.

The entire night, your focus seemed to drift towards Eddie’s, whose eyes were definitely trained on you rather than the game, but you didn’t mind. Occasionally trying to communicate just by mouthing to each other, which inevitably left the two of you grinning and laughing at your horrid attempts to make out each other’s sentences.

“And we’re up, ladies!” Chrissy called up as the halftime bell rung and the court cleared.

“Let’s do this, Tigers!” You smiled, running behind Chrissy and getting into your respective positions on the court.

Then the music hit.

Eddie grinned like a lovesick puppy, eyes concentrated on your figure that flared your arms out in particular poses while you shouted the Hawkin’s cheer anthem. He pinched himself for not coming to these stupid games sooner if he knew he would be able to watch you do this all the time. You looked so happy, even if it was just some silly cheers, to get the crowd pumping and give the jocks a break from playing balls and laundry baskets.

Your pom-poms were discarded when the music hit, internally preparing yourself for the routine of jumps, flips, and tosses. This routine was different from the one he saw months ago when he waited for you to finish practice. Your moves were sharper, more intense…he would have to ask you about the different routines later.

“Holy shit!” Eddie watched in awe, keeping his focus on you—hands and feet making only milliseconds contact with the ground as you ran and flipped yourself multiple times, across one side of the court and to the other.

His friends laughed, so intrigued by Eddie’s reaction as he was the one person they thought would give less of a fuck over some cheer routine, but he was obviously intoxicated by you.

“Just wait until they toss her in the air!” Max smirked as she leant down to Eddie’s ear,

“Wait they do that—” his head only turning to look at her for a second, before she pushed his head back in your direction.

Reinforcing your hands on top of your hips, you braced yourself before you were tossed up high into the air, essentially twisting your body like a human pretzel before feeling your bases catching you and tossing you up once more.

From this height you could see Eddie clearly, his face painted with amazement and worry—both in a good way. It made you crack out an even bigger smile, throwing a wink his way, and you swore you could see his cheeks redding. But before you could really tell, you felt yourself come back down into the arms of the bases to finish up the routine. Rushing over to your final spot to the left of Chrissy, you were thrown up again, the two of you up in the air with your arms out holding a single leg extended stunt. “Go Hawkins!”

The buzzer sounded on time with the finale of the cheer team, hurriedly picking up their poms and running back onto the sidelines to recuperate. You instantly went for a water bottle, chugging its contents as you wiped the beads of sweat off your forehead, pacing the small space to get your breathing and heart rate back to normal.

Your eyes darted up to the bleachers, certainly catching Eddie who was already gawking at you, “Killed it, angel!” he mouthed proudly, giving you a fist bump in the air as you giggled and smiled widely at him. Somehow for the gym being filled to the brim with faces, he was the only one you could see, let alone care about.

“Lucas has been on the bench this entire game!” Dustin grumbled, tossing his hands into his lap sadly.

Fourth quarter was now nearing the end and Hawkins was only a three pointers away, but sadly all of their shots were blocked or either bricked. Eddie and the gang were surprisingly riveted by the game, and it was easy to follow with the help of Steve, explaining the ins and outs of basketball.

“Well, we aren’t going to win if Jason keeps shooting the ball at this rate.” Max rolled her eyes watching as the jock missed another three pointer resulting in a boo from the crowd.

The whistle blew with a minute left on the clock, the boys huddling with their coach for a few seconds.

“Sinclair is in! He’s in!” Steve shouted, standing up in his seat watching as Lucas stormed the court with his eyes deadset on the basket, knowing that he had to make a shot in order to win it for the team.

You squealed, poms ruffling in your lap as you watched the game begin again while an irate Jason sat on the benches scowling as the coach pulled him out of the game.

The teams ran back and forth with time ticking on the clock, Hawkins needed the three pointer in order to get the lead and the entire gym sat on the edge of their seat, watching and waiting until finally…

“He’s going for it!”

“Come on, Sinclair, shoot it dammnit!’

“Go Lucas on!”

BUZZ! 55-54, Hawkins takes it home with only three seconds left on the clock!

You and the entire gym sprang out of your seat, cheerleaders and the rest of the team storming the court to celebrate the monumental win. Lucas was hoisted up in the air, pom-poms waving with him, shouting out a bunch of congratulations before he was put back down.

“Congrat Lucas—” you were about to approach the young boy to pull him into a hug, but Jason’s figure got in the way. Trapping you in his arms as he pushed you back, your poms dropping from your grips as you tried to pry him off of you, “Get the hell off of me!”

“Shush, we’re all going to celebrate outside….come on guys!”

Your hands didn’t stop pushing at his rib cage, and your shouts for help were drowned out by the loud cheering of everyone around you and could do nothing but let Jason lead you out back, the team of basketball players following to the parking lot.

“Stop Jason, please just let me go!” you struggled in his hold, yelping as he lifted you off the ground roughly, throwing you over his shoulder. The faces of the other players were now visible and you could see them with taunting smirks as they mocked your attempts to get away from Jason.

“Did they plan this?” You thought, as your fists banged on his back, trying your hardest to find a way out, but all you could do was watching as you left the crowd behind, fearing what would come next.

Spotting the blonde hair the poked out through everyone in the distanced you screamed as loudly as you could, “Chrissy!” her head whipped looking around, tiptoeing to find you, but you were nowhere to be found.

“Chrissy help!” You yelled out again, waving your hands in the air, before they were harshly held back down, a player who had been trailing behind Jason held them in his grips, “Stop trying to run.”

That sent shivers down your spine and you knew you were fucked. Jason had planned this out of vengeance and spite.

Your friend pouted, still looking around to find you, seeing as her partner in crime had left her side once you all had rushed the court. And it seemed like the celebration went fairly short, most of the players already heading towards the exit, when usually they would stay back in order to get photos taken for yearbook.

“Shit! We’ve gotta go.” She felt a tugging on her hand, and it was no other than Lucas.

He should’ve been celebrating after capturing the win for his team, but instead he was here, frightened for your well being as he could hear the murmurs among his team mates saying that Jason had a special surprise for everyone outside and it involved you.

Chrissy hesitated, not fully understanding Lucas’ anguish, and he tugged her again. “Your friend is in trouble.” His eyes were glazed over with urgency and her eyes floated promptly to the exits, catching a quick glimpse of you thrown over Jason’s shoulder, with your arms bound by another player.

“Go! I’ll get Eddie!” Lucas didn’t wait, dashing out of the gym as fast as his legs could take him while Chrissy worked on spotting the metal head in the still fairly crowded gym.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie Munson!” It wasn’t your voice, but it was a scared voice that called out to him, Chrissy’s voice.

He and the rest of the gang squinted, looking down at the court as she searched fearfully around the gym, trying to find him, “Why is Chrissy Cunningham screaming for you?” Robin scratched the top of her head and turned to Eddie, who looked just as confused as the rest of them.

“Come on, let’s go.” He lead the pact quickly down the bleachers and straight to the ginger, who let out a small sigh of relief and ran up to him, meeting him halfway. She didn’t bother saying anything except tugging on his leather jacket, trying to lead him somewhere, taking him aback, “the hell are you tugging on me for?!”

He pulled his arm back from her hold, not understanding her urgency and the situation that was taking place at that very moment.

“Jason and the rest of the team are out in the parking lot with her. We need to hurry.”

In that moment, it felt like everything was moving in slow-motion, when in reality it all happened too quickly for anybody to really fathom what was going on. All they heard was that you were in trouble and Eddie saw red. He didn’t bother waiting up for Chrissy to lead him to where you were, instead he took it upon himself, pushing and shoving past the other students in order to find you.

It wasn’t hard.

Another crowd had formed right in the middle of the parking lot, a circle of students watching Jason stalk his way towards you with nowhere to run as the rest of the team had created a barrier around you, as per the point guard’s orders. Poor Lucas, you could see him shaking in the crowd mouthing to you that he was going to help you and god you wanted to believe that, but him up against all these meatheads would be an ugly sight you didn’t want to see.

With your jaw trembling, eyes pricking with tears, and your rapid breathing, you were able to make out a single sentence, “J—Jason, please…why are you doing this?” your hands tried to stop him from getting closer to you, Jason stalking you like prey until you bumped back into one of the other players who shoved you off them roughly and right into the hands of your ex-boyfriend.

His arms wrapped tightly around you, essentially gluing you to his chest with nowhere to go, “Stop! P-please let me go, Jason! Someone help me, please!” you shouted loudly, hoping someone in the crowd would step in and see that this was not ok.

But no one did.

“You all wanna know a secret that Little Miss Hawkin’s is hiding.” His blue eyes glared down at you like swords cutting into your conscience, wishing, demanding, to punish you for no good reason at all. That paired with the devilish smirk on his face made you burst into tears, not knowing what he was going to do or say to you in front of all these people, as you were defenseless.

Jason didn’t bother for the crowd to respond to his rhetorical question, instead he vigorously spun you around, your back to his chest, one arm holding your arms down and the other wrapping around your neck tightly, forcing you to look at all the people watching, “She left me for Eddie “The Freak” Munson!”

The laughs and shouts from the strangers didn’t bother you, it was the fact that they stood here watching you be harassed without realizing that what he was doing was wrong and—

Your eyes widened, “Lucas no!” he was running towards Jason full speed, glass bottle he took from someone in hand, slamming over the top of his head as you clenched your eyes shut bracing the impact of the fall and attempting to shield your eyes from any stray glass.

There was no big impact like you anticipated, only slight stumbling as Jason released the hold on your neck but kept you two up right with his grip coming around your body. You could feel a slight stinging coming from your forehead, but that was the less of your worries as you watch the poor freshman begin getting jumped by a couple of the other members of the basketball team who pulled him away from Jason.

You thrashed harshly in Jason’s grip, screaming and crying, “Leave him alone! Stop it, you bastards!” these attempts to kick and yell were insufficient and his constraint around you only got stronger, leading to you letting out another scream, this time a piercing one when you felt your rib cage crunch.

“I-it hurts! Plea…please Jason! You—you’re hurting me!”

Your cries could be heard for miles with how much misery you were in and it even led to the boys who were roughing up Lucas to regain some sort of pity and cut out of their onslaught on the young boy seeing you hyperventilating in Jason’s arms with tears running down your cheeks and blood gushing from a gash that no one could quite make out since it was blurred with crimson.

“Get your fucking hands off of her!”

Eddie’s voice had never reached such volume, packed with so much hatred that it made everybody in that parking lot halt what they were doing and follow the sound of his order. Like a scene in a movie, they made way for the man, hurdling past them with his friends right behind him.

“Holy shit.”

“What the fuck?”

“Lucas, oh my god.”

Dustin, Mike, and Max looked at their friend, bloody nose and a few bruises already starting to settle in on his body as Lucas inched him way over to them, falling at their feet as they bent down to try assessing what needed to be done to help him.

You on the other hand, didn’t have time to prepare as Jason launched you brutally into Eddie’s chest, your legs giving out on you at this point, barely able to hold yourself up from the pain radiating all over your body.

But he caught you instantly, wrapping his arms securely and gently around your body, as you laid there crying, “E-Eddie.” your voice cracked, fingers gripping tightly to his tear soaked shirt, not wanting to be anywhere else except in his arms.

“Let me see, angel.” His tone immediately turning soft as his thumb and forefinger came up to lift your head from his chest, revealing the bloodied mess that covered the right side of your face. His shaking fingers went to his belt loop, quickly undoing the knot on his black bandana and bringing over to your cut to stop the bleeding.

His blood began to boil once more, knowing that Jason had that ball to hurt you this bad…to even hurt you at all.

“I roughed her up a bit since I know you like your girls like that, huh? Don’t worry, you can finish her off, sacrifice her to that devil that you worship.” Jason was so smug, back on his hand wiping away at the blood that poured from the cut on the side of his skull all while tormenting Eddie.

You could feel Eddie’s chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, heart beating so loudly you thought you could see it popping out of his rib cage. He wasted no time, sinking his free hand into his pocket to fish out his car keys, tossing it behind him where he knew Steve was hovering, trying to see if you were ok or not.

Steve was sharp, catching it in midair and instantaneously sinking down to his knees beside Eddie, holding his arms out, “Take her to my van…make sure she and the kids are safe, I’ll be there in a minute.” His voice was stern and serious, doing his best to keep calm with you in his arms, not wanting to startle you even more than you already had been.

“No! Eddie please! I-I don’t want to leave you!” You wept, feeling Steve scoop you out of Eddie’s arms carefully, guiding your arms to wrap around his neck to keep you from slipping out of his hold.

Eddie shook his head, grasping your cheeks in his hand delicately, peering into your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere baby, you need to go with Steve and the rest of them and I’ll be there. I promise.” his lips met your temple before Steve speedily got up, hustling you and the rest of the gang away from the scene.

“S-Steve, we have to go back…Jason—he’ll kill him!” You cried, trying to somehow convince the man who was carrying you to turn back and at least assist Eddie in the fight.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got to trust him ok…Robin get the keys in my pocket….Lucas you alright man?” He called out, feet never stopping until he approached Eddie’s van and looked over at the kids and Nancy, who were together carrying Lucas.

“J-just fucking peachy Steve-o!” Lucas choked out roughly, resting his head on Max’s shoulder.

Robin quickly unlocked the car, sliding the back doors open, first letting you and Steve in, then the rest followed.

“Lock it! Lock the damn doors, Robin!” Dustin screamed, letting go of Lucas’ weight as they carefully put him down on the carpeted floors.

“Eddie…we need to help Eddie! Need to g-go, I want, Eddie!”

Everyone darted their attention back to you, still in Steve’s arms, still in your frightened up state, body trembling rapidly and breathing going shallow.

“Hey, hey come on, shhhh it’s ok calm down.” Steve attempted to rock you back and forth, but nothing seemed to aid the shaking body in his arms.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Max said, standing up and kneeling beside the two of you.

Sweat beading every inch of your body, muscles trembling, and the look of horror spread out on your face. She knew it all too well.

“Water! She needs water!”

Jason stood with his arms held out to his sides like some sort of messiah, “Finally going to fight me like a man, Munson?”

Eddie wasted no time, charging towards him with a tightly closed fist that connected with the square of Jason’s jaw, knocking him out onto the gravel as everyone gasped, but not threatening to intervene knowing that they’d be victim to Eddie’s attack if they did.

His fist didn’t falter despite the unconscious boy beneath him, “Don’t you ever!” Jason’s nose cracked loudly against his ringed knuckles, “put your hands!” his arm swung back down to his face again, blood splattering in the air, “on her again!” the last punch landed on Jason’s cheek followed by crunching, surely his teeth falling out.

And just like that, Eddie got up, wiping the enemy’s blood on his black jeans, turning towards the crowd who looked scared shitless of what they just witnessed, “You’re all sad excuses for human beings” he sneered, pushing past all of them, leaving the bloodied boy a mess while he walked back to where you were.

A knocked sounded on the van door, startling everyone as they did their best to fan you and press a wet towel over your forehead to get you to calm down from the aftermath.

“Shit! Is it Jason?! He’ll kill us!” Dustin screeched, earning a stiff slap on the back of the head by Max.

“Shut the hell up! You’re making it worse!” She whisper scolded, eyes darting down to where you began shaking even harder, not knowing what was going on.

Steve’s hold got tighter, rubbing his thumbs up and down your arms, attempting to get you relax though he too didn’t know who was outside the van, “Hey, hey it’s alright sweetheart, just breathe for me.”

Max, Dustin, and Mike sprang back into action continuing to fan you with the random homework assignments that littered his van—if it wasn’t such a serious matter, they’d joke about how the shit in his van actual had some use, but they knew they’d save this conversation for later—when you were ok.

Robin and Nancy shared a panicky look before. The older one nodded, peering closer to the window to catch a glimpse of who it was continuing to knock as the rest stayed behind her, watching in anticipation.

A sigh of relief left her mouth and her eyes shut, “It’s just Eddie,” her orbs opened back up and quickly she unlocked the door, flinging it open to take in the sight of Edward Munson.

Their eyes widened seeing him standing there so nonchalantly, staring at them back, both fists still clenched tightly with the remaining adrenaline running through his veins. If he didn’t have any composure and you to get back to, he’d probably still be back there, taking his time dismantling the rest of the team and everyone else there who did nothing but watch you get assaulted by Jason.

Regardless of the damage he wanted to do, your cries and whimpers seemed to bring him back to reality. His heartbeat trying to calm itself for you and the anger washing away seeing you in Steve’s arm while he gave him an unsure look if he could keep comforting you for any longer before you broke.

“Jesus, man, you’ve got blood all over your hands.” Dustin swallowed thickly, moving forward to see if there were any injuries to his friend— but he honestly didn’t know if he could handle so much blood in one night.

Eddie grunted, ripping off his signature denim jacket and roughly wiping the dried remnants of Jason’s blood onto the garment, “Not mine…I almost killed that son of a bitch.” He spoke in a hush tone, not wanting to terrify you.

“Give it here, man.” Mike whispered, holding his arm out to grab the piece of clothing, tossing it towards the back of the van where he would deal with it later.

Despite not being able to see what was going on, you could hear and feel Eddie’s presence, and you desperately needed him. You didn’t mind Steve, his attempt to console you actually helped a bit, but you knew deep down in your heart (and so did everyone else), you needed Eddie.

“E-Eds,” Your clammy hands freed themselves from Steve’s hold, blindly reaching out to grab him but you never found him, “I want Eds…please.”

Eddie didn’t know if he could trust himself around you, he wanted to hold you, wanted to take Steve’s place, but wasn’t sure if feeling you in so much pain would make him want to go back out there and give Jason another beating.

Nancy could sense the apprehension from a mile away. The look on Eddie’s face said it all. He was terrified of hurting you more than you already were, but she knew he wouldn’t do that. Never in a million years. She squeezed Robin’s hand, signalling for them to get out of the van.

Nancy stood up, holding up Eddie’s keys to his face, “I’ll drive your car back to your place, Steve will take the kids in his car…she needs you, Munson.”

Still, he seemed unsure.

Robin sighed, her hands resting on Eddie’s shoulders forcing him to tear his gaze from your stiff body in the back of his van, to hers, “You’re not going to hurt her Eddie…she trusts you alright—now please, go.”

He swallowed thickly, nodding his head, watching as the kids began to file out of the van heading over to Steve’s car while Nancy hopped into the driver’s seat and Robin taking the passenger. Steve was the only one that remained, giving Eddie a reassuring look.

“Eddie’s coming alright, sweetheart.” Steve whispered to you, leaning down slightly to lift the damp towel over your face to see your eyes still squeezed shut and your lips and cheeks swollen from crying.

You could feel the van creak lightly with Eddie entering, placing a hand on your calf as he came closer, taking a seat on the floor, holding his hand arms out for Steve to lay you in.

“Nice and easy.” Steve said softly as he transferred you into Eddie’s arms. Your fingers immediately grasping his leather jacket to make sure it was him. “E-Eds” you sniffled, tearing off the covering on your face to see him.

He cracked you a tiny smile, his right hand reaching up to brush the stray hairs away from your forehead, “I’m right here, angel.”

Steve observed, along with Nancy and Robin who were in awe with how the two of you just instantly fell into each other, “I’ll follow behind in my car.” his voice fell on you and Eddie’s deaf ears, not caring about the loud door slam and the engine of the van coming to life as the drive to Eddie’s trailer began.

No one spoke for the ten-minute ride home, figuring that silence is what you needed most in order to get yourself into a calm state so that Eddie could figure out what to do next. Robin and Nancy, however, would take a glance back every so often. Watching as Eddie kept one hand pressed on your temple wound and the other would brush your cheeks and eyes, wiping away any tears that escaped.

“We’re here.” Nancy whispered quietly, pulling up to Eddie’s trailer, parking in the small driveway with Steve’s car pulling up next to them.

Eddie nodded, wrapping his arms back around your body and never letting up eye contact, “Let’s go inside, kay?”

“Kay.” your voice barely a whispered, feeling the van’s door open and Eddie lift the two of you up and out of the small space until the cold air hit your skin causing you to shiver a bit.

You could hear a bit of conversation coming for the kids, asking Lucas if he felt that his nose was broken and being relived when he said no. Then there was Eddie, instructing Nance and Robin on what key was supposed to open the trailer door, until Steve jumped in, helping them out and finally you felt yourself enter the safe space you knew.

He kicked off his shoes, leading them into his home, “You guys can crash here for the night. There should be a first aid kit under the sink and some blankets in the storage closet down the hall.” Eddie announced quickly over his shoulder and rushing over to his bedroom to set you onto his mattress.

“It h-hurts Eds.” You whimpered, not feeling his touch on you anymore. He knelt down beside you, grasping your cheeks in his palms tenderly. He hated seeing you like this. Cheeks coated with tears and eyes that never stopped pouring them out—god if he could take it all away from you, he would in a heartbeat.

“I know baby, I know,” His thumbs continued rubbing your cheeks, swiping away at the tears that feel every few seconds, “Gonna fill up the bath, alright? Get you cleaned up…that ok?” His eyes searched yours carefully, not meaning to step over boundaries or make you uncomfortable, but he didn’t know what the hell to do. He’d never experience something as traumatising as this and he just wanted to make sure you were going to be ok.

You nodded softly, still feeling the warmth of his palms on your making you feel safer than anyone has ever had, “W-will you help me…i—I just don’t know if I can even m-move, but—”

He didn’t hesitate, his eyes speaking from themselves before his mouth did, “Of course, I’ll help you…just give me a minute, alright?” You nodded against his hands, closing your eyes softly when his hands parted, going to stand up and gather some clean clothes from his dresser.

“Gonna run the bath and come get you when it’s nice and warm.” He stopped at his doorway, looking back at you as you nodded, eyes still closed, breathing in the scent of his room.

He hurried, not wanting you to sit in the room all alone by yourself. He wanted to be there with you as much as you needed him to be. Going to the sink first, he quickly washed his hands, scrubbing away the blood that was left in the crevices of his knuckles and under his nails before getting started on your needs. When he got the temperature of the water just right, he plugged the tub, letting the water fill up and adding a squeeze of his body wash to the mix, getting it nice and bubbly for you, before shutting the water off before it overflowed.

Looking around the bathroom, he began getting a few wash cloths, a new towel, and the first aid kit out, setting it on the sink counter so it could be at arm’s length for him to grab. He took a final glance at the bathroom, making sure he had everything he had before returning to his bedroom, but not before stopping in the narrow hallway, turning his head to the left to see the rest of his friends. They were too busy attending to Lucas’ injuries to notice Eddie giving them a gentle smile.

You were in the same position that Eddie left you in—middle of the bed, hands to your sides and your chest rising up and down at a considerably calm rate now, making him feel a wave of alleviation. His quiet footsteps could still be heard by your ears and you turned your head slightly, opening your eyes to see him already kneeling down to your level.

“It’s ready, angel.” He whispered, brushing some of your hair back and you nodded, fingers going to wrap around one of his wrists, attempting to pull yourself up, but instantly seething at the pain in your abdomen.

Eddie was brisk, his hand coming to support your back, guiding you into a sitting position, “Christ, you can ask for help, babe.” he shook his head and you pouted your lips slightly, feeling so useless in this very moment. Eddie was always coming to your rescue and part of you felt bad for dragging him into all of this, but you didn’t have much time to think about it, thoughts burying themselves into the back of your mind as Eddie carefully swooped you into his arms, walking you into the bathroom.

He kicked the door closed with his foot, staring down at you, the dim bathroom lights still making you look gorgeous as ever in his eyes, “I’m gonna put you down here alright?”

You turned your head to where his chin pointed, the closed toilet seat and you nodded, feeling yourself be set down on the hard plastic cover and Eddie kneeling down beside your legs.

His fingers fiddled with each other, something he picked up from you over the past month, “Do you…umm, want me to…undress you?” His face was flushed red asking such an absurd question. He knew you asked for his help, but didn’t know if this was too far or not.

When you went to nod, he shook his head rapidly, taking you aback for a second, but his right hand that rested on your bare knee told you everything, “I need verbal confirmation, baby…I need you to be certain—don’t want to hurt you.”

Even in such a vulnerable and awkward situation, he was still gentle as ever, making your heart swarm with fireworks and stomach fill with butterflies, “Y-yes…want your help Eds.”

“You tell me if you want me to stop and I’ll get Nance or Robin…I swear I won’t take it personal—”

Your hand rested on top of his, squeezing ever so slightly to stop his sentence. Eyes meeting each other filled with so much care and assurance, “I’m sure, p-please Eddie.”

Eddie knew from the look in your eyes that you were a hundred percent sure of your decision and he remembered Robin and Nancy’s words from earlier that night…you trusted him.

He nodded quickly, taking one more look at you, “Yeah, yeah ok, I’ll help you, going to start with your shoes first.” His fingers undid your laces, working your white sneakers and socks off your feet and tossing them to the side.

“Top now, ok?” He stood up looking at you and you croaked out a clear yes that let Eddie know to keep going.

He spotted the white zipper trailing down the right side of your Tigers cheer uniform and he took a deep breath, fingers practically shaking as he pulled it down slowly, allowing its form to loosen from your torso slightly. You brought your arms up as high as they could without causing your ribs any discomfort, and Eddie swiftly guided the top over your arms, then gently helping you bring your hands back down to rest in your lap.

Left in your white cotton bra with some frail lace lining the cups and only your skirt on, you should’ve felt exposed—but still you felt at ease knowing that Eddie’s main priority was taking care of you and not ogling in the sight of your body.

“Skirt or bra first, angel?” He asked quietly, staring only at your eyes as you looked down at your bottoms, wanting out of them immediately since it was covered in some of the parking lots dirt and gravel.

He nodded, holding out his hand for you to take as he helped you up, “grab onto the counter, don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.” His chin gestured to the counter and your fingers immediately gripped the marble, steadying yourself as Eddie worked the similar zipper on your skirt down, allowing the green fabric to pool at your feet.

You could see his breath hitch in his throat, eyes staring down at the garment, just staring at him on the floor, not knowing if he could even take a look at you without crumbling. Even in a moment like this, you affected him but he knew it wasn’t right, not when you needed him to be here for you, so he shoved those fears and thoughts to the back of his brain, eyes snapping up to yours with your lip caught between your teeth.

“Bra first, then bottoms alright?”

“Yes”

His calloused fingers brushed your skin ever so lightly as they reached behind your back, popping the hook and eye closure open with ease and watching as your breasts spilled from behind the cups and the straps loosely handing off your arms, begging to be freed. And they were as Eddie slid them off, adding it to the pile of clothes that formed on the bathroom floor. Again, the same rough yet soft hands came down to your hips where the band of your underwear laid snuggly, hooking his fingers between the flimsy fabric and your skin guiding them down your legs as you absentmindedly stepped out of them.

“Let’s get you in, yeah?” His breath was still a little rough, having you right in front of him wearing nothing but your soft skin. He almost melted, feeling your hand reach out to hold his as it left the counter, needing his assistance to get into the bath.

Eddie held your hand tightly, the other resting on the small of your back, moving you gently towards the tub, stepping into it one foot at a time, until you were able to bend down slightly to lay back, “Nice and easy, babe…is it good?” He watched as you laid back comfortably, lips parting with a sigh and your eyes shut peacefully. “not too hot is it?”

You shook your head, opening one of your eyes to see him resting his arms on the tubs ledge watching you intently, “Perfect, Eds, thank you so much.”

He smiled, shrugging off your thanks, and turning behind him to grab the first-aid kit, shuffling through the contents to find alcohol pads and gauze.

“We have to clean up that cut on your forehead, alright?”

Your eyes opened fully now, frowning slightly at seeing Eddie opening some packets of the alcohol swabs, “Will it burn?”

“Just a little, but not for long, I promise.” He assured you, waiting for you to give him a nod until he leaned closer to your face, hands dabbing at the gash on your forehead, causing you to wince slightly until the sting became normal.

“There’s some glass.” He whispered, coming closer to your face to see the minuscule shards of glass.

“The bottle.” You responded, squeezing your eyes tightly, feeling a sharper pain as Eddie swiped over the gash a little too quickly.

His fingers immediately pulled away after your reaction, “Shit, I’m so sorry.” he apologized, thumb grazing your other cheek and you shook your head, “I’m ok, Eds, it just hurt a bit.” you reassured him.

Still, his face wore a sorrowful look as he went back in to clean it more, “who threw the bottle?”

“Lucas…he hit Jason over the head, but I-I guess the glass must have ricocheted.” You explained, and Eddie let out a small chuckled at the young boy’s courage to do such a thing to the captain of the basketball team.

“Pretty metal of him.” He joked softly, causing you to laugh a little for the first time after the incident.

“Metal,” you agreed with him before quietness fell between you for the next minute or two.

His tongue poked out of his mouth in concentration along with some of the comforting strings of words like, “almost done, angel,” “sorry, sorry, sorry,” and “great job, you’re doing so good babe.” If the words being spoken and the little comforting gestures weren’t already sending you into a frenzy, the complete and utter look on his face was something you couldn’t tear your eyes away. They stared up at him through your lashes, watching his every move.

Eyes squinting, trying to pick out the small shards of glass that were left on your skin.

Forehead creasing every time you would jolt a bit from the pressure of his touch.

And nose flaring every time he had to reach for another swab to wipe up the blood that dried up on your skin.

Finally, when the cut was nice and cleaned, he smiled down at you, patting your head playfully, making a tiny smile break out on your face as you watched him stand up, discarding the bloodied materials, and washing his hands. His eyes kept on yours in the reflection of the mirror, still a smile on his face.

He came back after a few seconds, this time with washcloths, “You want to do it or me?” Eddie held the small gray towels up and you nodded your head up at him, “You please, I can’t really reach without hurting my ribs.” you explained and he nodded, dipping one of the cloths into the soapy water.

Starting with your arms, he carefully glided the warm towel over your skin, the quiet buzzing of the bathroom light that you never noticed before could be heard through the silence. Not that you minded. The towel moved from your arms to your neck, carefully his dry left hand reached behind your head to lift yourself up slightly so he could get the back of your neck. Before you could relish the feeling, his hands had left to grab a new towel, dipping it into the water once more and moving down to your chest and the rest of your body.

This was different for you in many forms. First one being that your body had only even been touched by yourself and Jason Carver and only one of you was the gentle one with it. Jason never did things as intimate as this. Not even in a bathing you sense, but in general his touch was always a bit….rushed and careless.

But Eddie…god he was so gentle with you. Even before this moment, you’d finally realize that all the little hugs, fingers brushing against one another, hands rubbing your arms and cheeks when you were nervous or scared, his hand resting on your back to guide you around. All of it was so delicate.

The way Eddie would remember all the small details about you. Your favorite song, whichever it was, since it changed so often, but he always kept cassettes on him in case you wanted to listen to it and you forgot yours at home.

Him creating a stupid little cute nickname for you that was basically your first name now, all because his memory never let him forget that you were born in the winter and you wore matching jewelry.

How he would keep his promises to you and mean it. When he said he’d be there at a certain time picking you up from cheer practice, he’d be there right on time, hell, maybe even earlier. But god forbid, he was a teeny bit late or his campaign ran a little overtime. He’d apologize right away and make it up to you.

When he said he would play your favorite pop song at the Hideout in front of a bunch of drunks and his stupid friends who didn’t really want to, he did it anyway. Showing up at a basketball game that you would be cheering at for literally only a total of twenty minutes the whole night—he was there. He always kept his word.

You should honestly be pinching yourself for allowing a guy to see you in this state after only knowing him for a month and a half, but it felt so natural and safe. It wasn’t even as if Eddie was sexualizing you when he easily could; he didn’t. He made it his job to make sure you were alright—mentally, emotionally, and physically. You remembered you couldn’t even stand naked in front of your ex-boyfriend for a millisecond before he was throwing himself at you without even asking if sexual activities was what you wanted.

Eddie is who you wanted.

Right here in this very moment you finally knew it, but what you didn’t was that you were once again crying. Tears falling from your eyes, down your cheeks, and into the bath water.

His fingers pulled away from your calves that he was washing, “W-why are you crying…did I do something wrong? Touch you somewhere? I—I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before, but I thought you were ok with me washing your legs, but I-”

“I was so scared, Eddie!” You wept, lip trembling as your teary eyes stared at his, making out a blurry image of him moving himself closer so that he could bring you face to the crease of his neck where you cried softly.

“Shhh, I’m here, angel. No one is going to hurt you, I promise.” His hands let go of the washcloth, letting it sink to the bottom of the tub as his hands wrapped around your body, hugging you close to him.

You continued to cry, paying no mind that you were still naked, half your body engulfed in his arms while the other stayed in the water, “I—I thought no one was going to s-save me,” you admitted pulling away from the space and hiccuping as you wiped away at the tears harshly.

“Everyone…they were just staring at me. They let him do that to me….” She continued as Eddie continued to listen, understanding that she wanted to just hear her.

She shook her head from side to side, rapidly, when the images of the night flashed in her mind. She could still make out the faces of the crowd laughing and scowling at her while she was at Jason’s mercy. And if that wasn’t enough, the fear that crossed her face when Lucas basically sacrificed himself for her.

The thought alone made her feel such an intense internal pain. Squeezing her eyes shut once more, Eddie wasted no time, bringing her into his arms again, feeling the wet tears sliding down his neck and over his shoulder.

“But you came…you—you, I don’t understand, I-I just don’t deserve you.” It was a broken sob, but he still heard every little word.

Humming sounds of disagreement came from him as he hugged you tighter to his clothed chest, “No, baby, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you alright? You’re so perfect…so goddamn precious and you deserve someone who—”

You don’t allow him anytime to finish his stupid speech, not wanting to hear him be so harsh on himself when he was perfect in your eyes, too.

“I need you Eddie…I-I care for you so deeply and…I think—think I love you….”

The words seemed to leave your mouth before you could even stop and think about what you were about to say. That word held so much meaning. You didn’t know if Eddie could handle it after all the shit that happened tonight, so you almost regretted your decision, letting your emotions get the best of you, but this is how you really felt.

You loved Eddie, and you knew that.

The hands that rubbed at your back, halted and you both froze in the hug before you pulled back slightly just to see his face, trying to read him and see if there was anything at all.

“Y-you love me?” Is all he said, looking at you seriously and you nodded.

“I do—I love you, Eddie.”

His heart was racing a million miles per second, trying to grasp the words that just escaped your mouth for the second time. He heard you loud and clear, but he just couldn’t believe that this was real life. The girl that he obviously had developed a crush and deep care for had the same feelings for him. If not maybe even a little stronger. But not for long.

“Eddie…please say something….anything.” Your lips were trembling in fear now, wondering if you had messed up by confession your true feelings for him.

The last thing you wanted was for you to lose Eddie just because you let your emotions get the best of you.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Y-yeah…yes, please.”

His palms held your cheeks in his hold, the two of you closing your eyes in bliss when your lips finally connected in the most passionate yet delicate kiss you’ve received in your life. Your lips didn’t stop moving against one another, keeping the same slow pace until the two of you eventually needed to pull away to catch a breath.

Foreheads resting against one another, and his eyes staring deeper into your soul, he whispered the sweetest four words to ever hit your ears,

“I love you too.”

There was no need for any other words after that. Matter a fact, you and Eddie spent the rest of the bath in complete in and utter silence, but still the air was filled with so much emotion. The happy kind. The both of you were content with the silence, only whispering quiet, “I love you’s” and him peppering kisses on your cheek, lips, and head as he got you dressed in an oversize band tee and a pair of his boxers.

He carefully picked you up again, carrying you out of the bathroom and back to his bedroom, where he laid you down in his bed. Pulling the sheets up to warm up your body, “Gonna go shower and I’ll be right back alright?”

“Don’t be too long please,” you said sweetly, eyes shimmering under the moonlight that peeked in through the same thin curtains. The same eyes that were filled with tears and fear an hour ago, now sparkled with comfort and love.

Eddie nodded, leaning down to brush his lips over yours, “I won’t. Just try to rest your eyes for me, baby.”

You smiled against him, fluttering your eyes closed when he drew away—he paused for a moment, taking in your precious face before quietly shutting the bedroom door to give you some privacy and peace. He gathered your clothes from the bathroom, heading down the hallway to toss them into the washing machine. Eddie quickly had a shower of his own, not standing to be alone without you and longing to feel you in his arms again, knowing you were safe with him.

“Angel?” He spoke softly but still loud enough to hear when he walked back into his bedroom.

You were still in the same place on his bed, but not asleep, just resting your eyes like he had told you earlier, “I’m awake, babe.”

He hummed contentedly, watching as your eyes opened. He was shirtless and his checkered bottoms hung low on his hips, “Light’s on or off?”

“Off please…and do you think you could put on some Iron Maiden?” You suggested

He grinned, clicking the lights off and heading over to his radio, popping in your favorite tape and letting the music surround you, “God, you’re making me fall even more in love with you,”

“Thats the plan.” You lovingly responded, sinking into his warmth when he finally got into bed next to you. Carefully wrapping his arms around your body, being weary of your still injured ribs, and placing a warm kiss to your forehead, “Never going to stop loving you.”

Breathing in his scent, you felt the safest you’ve ever felt in your life, and the most loved you knew you’d be in this lifetime, “Me neither, Eds.”

“Tomorrow we should go see Hopper, file a police report.” He proposed, kissing your forehead as you whined against his chest. It was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Hey,” Eddie moved his head away a little so he could stare at your face in his chest, he reached for your hand, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles, “I’ll be there with you the entire time…I just don’t want him to ever get close to you like that again, he needs to be disciplined, babe.”

You hmph’d aloud, looking up at him through your lashes, “I’m sure you handled it considering you knocked him out cold.”

He couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on his face. He felt proud for doing what he did. Sure, he had to endure years of Jason’s endless bullying, but he wasn’t going to let him get away with what he did to you.

“Yeah, but legally, y’know, it’d be reassuring to know he can’t get into close proximity of you.” His reasoning was fair and you nodded, nuzzling your head back into his chest, “As long as you don’t leave me alone, like you promised.”

Now his fingers intertwined with yours, feeling your pulse in your fingertips and the warmth of your skin, “I always keep my promises, baby.”

“Does this mean we’re official?”

Eddie could feel the smile against his bare chest when the question left your lips, and he nodded, caressing your head with his free hand. “Do me the honors of being my girlfriend?”

“It’d be my greatest honor.” You replied, carefully lifting your head up to connect your lips in a delicate kiss while Iron Maiden’s music continued to play in the background like sweetness.

You both smiled against one another, relishing in this feeling that you knew would never get old, “I’m gonna write a song about us one day,” Eddie spoke through kisses as you giggled, pulling away to stare at his giddy face.

“Yeah? What’re you gonna call it?” You wondered, resting your free palm against his heart, feeling the thumping quicken, all out of tenderness, just staring at you.

“Teenage Dirtbag….how about that?” He wiggled his eyebrows, causing you to grin, resting your forehead against his, pulling him into another sweet kiss that lasted a lifetime before you both pulled away.

If there was one thing you were certain of, it was that you could spend your entire life right here in this very moment with him, as long as it meant never leaving this bed. But you couldn’t wait to get up in the morning and force that guitar in his hands so he could write that song and then the two of you could shout it out from the rooftops for the rest of your love and the world to hear.

“That is so us, baby.”

A/N: Fun fact this is actually the first fic I wrote before "Hey Steven" it just so happened that I finished that one first! I hope you guys enjoyed, let me know what you think!!!

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