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flowercrowngods · 7 months

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felt like letting mike and steve work through some shit again

cw: descriptions and imagery of them being lost and self-sacrificing, left alone with trauma they have no means to work through, could read as suicidal tendencies or intrusive thoughts

🤍 also on ao3

“What do you want?” Mike asks when Steve sits down beside him, gravel crunching, their feet dangling over the dark and endless abyss that is the quarry at night.

Steve doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t really know what to say now that he’s here, now that he found him. He looks so small, now more than ever, and it reminds Steve so painfully that he’s still just a child. He was always just a child, and children shouldn’t—

It feels like they got their rights at a childhood revoked years ago, and then they were just… supposed to be okay with it. It was expected, it was implied when nobody came to talk to them after.

When all they got was one NDA after another. When none of the professionally trained adults took one look at the children that they were, and asked, Are you okay? What do you need to be okay? I will talk to you once a week and make sure you learn how to be okay again.

Steve feels like a big brother to most of the kids now, sure, but he’s not their shrink, and he sucks when it comes to actually talking about shit. He can be there to drive them anywhere, can provide an evening of distractions and as much of a sanctuary as a house as haunted as his can be.

With everything else, though, he’s helplessly lost. So he says nothing, weighs his words to make sure they come out right — especially for Mike, who’s always just waiting for him to say something wrong and throw it back in his face with the sunny disposition of a feral, rabid cat.

“Hey,” Mike says then, irritated again; but his voice is hoarse, too. Tired. No heat behind it after that stupid fight with Dustin and Lucas earlier tonight that made him snap and leave Steve’s house in a frenzy. “I said, What do you want?”

Steve shrugs, looking ahead into the darkness that feels endless and alluring and deeply terrifying.

I miss my friend! My best friend, Mike!

“Making sure you’re okay.”

You’ve changed, you know that? You’re not the guy who would jump off a cliff for me anymore, I don’t think I even know you anymore!

Dustin’s voice echoes in Steve’s mind as it undoubtedly does in Mike’s, too, and he can only imagine how much that hurts, especially if he’s shivering like that even though the night is warm for early September.

“I’m okay,” Mike says, sounding endlessly annoyed about the fact. Steve almost huffs out a humourless laugh. Yeah, right.

“Sure you are,” Steve says, keeping his tone carefully neutral.

He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over Mike’s shoulders without a comment, half-expecting him to just throw it into the darkness below. But Mike doesn’t move, is eerily still beside him, pretending not to notice that Steve’s watching him.

“But you know it’s, like,” he starts again and trails off, looking for the right words because this is unfamiliar terrain and the ground beneath his feet is quite literally nonexistent. “It’s fine if you’re not, right? It’s actually really fucking normal to be more than a little fucked up after everything, all that crazy shit. Or just… in general.”

You were twelve, he wants to say. You were twelve and you jumped off from here. You were twelve and you were going to die. And not because of those monsters, not yet. Just because… you were twelve.

Mike doesn’t say anything, but the gravel crunches once more as he reaches for a handful of stones to throw them into the darkness one by one, the void beneath them so enormous that they don’t even hear the noise of impact.

You jumped.

The longer Mike remains silent, the more Steve wants to scream, wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, wants to make him see and understand that Steve knows about the scars a decision like that leaves, especially when you live to deal with the consequences.

He gets seizures to deal with the consequences. His ear is fucky, his eye is twitchy, his head is aching constantly, he gets migraines that knock him out for a day or two, all because he wanted to protect his friends. All because he did protect his friends. It worked. They’re safe.

But they’re also unaware of… of everything. Of the horrible stillness as clarity dawns and all signs point to the one way that always seems to work. The one easy way out, and still the hardest of them all when the plan goes wrong and he makes it out alive. When It’s gotta be me is the only thing to say, but later turns into an angry It never should have been me because the world looks different when it’s smeared with your blood.

And it’s always the lost boys who make decisions like that. Steve wonders, some nights in cold sweat, what happens if he makes these decisions without immediate danger. What happens if he just… decides to jump. Decides to run. To give the world more of his blood. Without saving anyone.

It’s not like he wants to — but he’s terrified that it’s just who he is. Who he’s turned into, terrified that his friends will forever expect him to.

And he’s even more terrified knowing that Mike jumped before he learned about monsters. Before he learned about fighting and surviving.

You were a kid, he wants to say again, but his throat is closing up on him.

“I don’t think that’s okay actually,” Mike says after a while, tearing Steve away from his fears. They’re still both looking ahead rather than at each other, but it’s fine. They’re still here. “Like, people say it is, but it feels so empty when they do, you know? Like, sure, yeah, I’m not fucking okay, but what the hell do we do about that now? Oh, right, I know! Let’s throw it in my face that I’m not good enough for you anymore now that there’s no monsters to kill anymore. Now that I’m just Mike, who’s not even enough to be that anymore, sure. Right. Yeah. Let’s pretend it’s all fine, Steve, let’s pretend it’s okay to hurt all the fucking time!”

Mike is shaking now, violent tremors running through his body, and Steve’s first instinct is to reach out and pull him close, to keep him from that edge and take him to his car; turn on the heating and talk there. But Mike seems to need the darkness, seems to need to be faced with endless depth to give voice to his thoughts.

“What Dustin said was messed up. He shouldn’t have said that.”

Mike shrugs, throwing more pebbles into the darkness, though his motions have lost their vigour. “He’s right, though.”

Steve sighs, though not unkindly. “No, he’s not. Hey, listen to me.” He waits until Mike turns to meet his eyes, and he leans forward. “It’s not okay. It’s not right what he said. You don’t deserve to have that shit thrown in your face just because Dustin is a tactless little douche bag.”

Taking a bullet for someone is not the baseline for friendship, he wants to say, and it occurs to him once again how fucked up their perception and idea of friendship must be, now that they’ve all bonded over the most horrific shit and actual grief they never learned how to work through.

It’s not even Dustin’s fault, not really. They’re all just collateral damage to something Bigger, and all they have is each other, leaving them in a vicious cycle that is so, so fucked up.

“Why’d you jump?” he asks eventually, quiet in case the darkness tries to listen in. “Back then, why did you jump?” And do you wish El had let you? Do you sometimes wish that? When your room is quiet and it’s only you living with all those silent, terrible decisions?

Mike shrugs again, but there’s not much fight left in him, Steve can see that, can feel it in the air between them.

“Will was gone,” he says like it explains everything— and it sort of does. Steve has seen the way these boys look at each other when the other’s not looking, he has seen the hurt and the anger and the gentleness stored there, the words unspoken and the fear that, despite interdimensional monsters, kinda goes unmatched.

Because they have each other. They only have each other. And if someone’s suddenly different than what they thought they knew, if someone’s suddenly different, then… Everything might just fall apart.

And Steve wants to grab him again; wants to pull him close and say, I’m the same. We have the same scars. We have the same!

Slowly, carefully, he does lean over now, weaving an arm around Mike’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.

“I get that.”

Mike swallows heavily and exhales shakily. “I don’t think you do.”

“No. I think I really, really do. But it’s okay, Mike. You won’t be alone with this, okay. I’m on your side, you little shit.”

A pause, a beat, a moment’s respite. Then, “Why?”

“Because,” his heart is racing, his mouth trembling around forming the words for the first time, but he knows it’s the right thing to do. Knows it’s important.

Knows it might just save a life.

“Because I fell harder for Eddie Munson than I ever thought possible, and once i found out what was happening, I kind of wanted to jump off a cliff, too. But I didn’t, because I had someone with the same fears as me, and instead of stupid shit we just… Cried together sometimes. Screamed into our pillows. Laughed with and at each other, calling ourselves hopeless, and— I don’t know. It’s really fucking scary, and that doesn’t go away just because you have someone to talk to. But it‘s… better. It’s so much better.”

He huffs, swallowing around the lump in his throat, smiling into the darkness.

“So I’ve got you, okay? Whatever it is, whatever makes you feel like it’s not fucking okay, I’ve got you. You come to me, yeah? Lucas does, Dustin does, even Max does. This is your official, standing invitation and whatever, okay, dickhead?”

Mike shoves at him lightly, still not parting from the rather awkward side-hug they’ve got going on, and Steve is glad for it.

“Okay, okay, geez,” the little shithead says, rolling his eyes which Steve can see even in the dark, and it feels like the edge has moved away from them, like they have solid ground beneath their feet again.

Steve doesn’t say anything more after that, just waiting for Mike to stir to lead him back to the car, load in his bike and take him wherever he feels like spending the night.

But Mike doesn’t move for another long while, and it makes Steve feel like something big has just happened between them. Like they finally have found the common ground that Steve’s been suspecting they had for months now, even years.

Eventually, as they make their way to the car and Mike goes to grab his bike, he speaks up again, but more subdued now.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Does… Does Eddie know?”

“About what?” My tendencies to take a leap off the edge?

“You. Being…”

“Oh!” A smile as he unlocks his car and opens the back door to squeeze Mike’s old bike in there with minimal smears of dirt. “I’d hope so, we’ve been dating for months.”

“You’re dating?! You? Eddie’s dating you?”

“Yeah, listen, do you want me to just leave you here or would you rather be thrown out in the middle of nowhere?”

Mike grumbles something unintelligible as he climbs into the front seat, waiting for Steve to start the engine before he speaks up again.

“It’s just, you’re so… How did you even do that?”

Steve laughs at that, disbelieving and all, because, “Trust me, I have no idea. Must have been the ol’ Harrington charm and all that.”

Mike rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest, sinking lower in the seats to pout. “You’re so lame.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over how much I have a boyfriend and you don’t.”

If his heart skips a beat because it still feels like a forbidden truth saying the word out loud despite the playful banter, then he’s ignoring that in favour of revving the engine.

“Asshole.”

“Dickhead.”

“Grow up,” Mike says, but Steve can see the smile he’s not even trying to hide, and he mirrors it with his own as he turns on the radio catching the final tunes of Springsteen’s Dancing in the Dark.

They’re not okay, none of them. But the car is warm, the cliff’s edge is behind them, and they’re not listening to the same ten songs anymore.

They’re getting better, step by tiny step.

#stranger things fanfic #steve & mike #steve harrington #mike wheeler #steddie #<- mentioned but established #byler #<- implied & yearning #i am projecting HARD with this one #i’m so so convinced steve and mike are directly juxtaposed in their development with very similar trauma #this probably makes sense to no one but me but alas #let them be fucked up while life continues and let them be unable to handle it #i feel like it’s all over the place but if you’ve ever had a single vulnerable conversation then you’ll know this is how they can go #dio words

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dollfacejjk · 5 months

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Helpless || Jungkook ff ||

pairing: jungkook x female lead!reader x another female (unnamed)

genre: angst, 18+, cheating au.

warnings: heartbreaks, mentions of sex and cum, love triangle, jungkook was a cheater, crying, Jungkook is an asshole, our oc(y/n) is a strong and independent girl.

a cheating story from the other woman's point of view,

She watched him pulling out the condom off his dick and throwing it in the dustbin with a tired look. He rolled away from top of her and checked the time on his phone which was near the pillow she was laying her head on.

She also glanced and saw its already 02:34 a.m. He quickly opened his phone and typed something while tilting his phone, keeping the screen away from her gaze. She saw how he brows frowned as he typed away furiously. At last, he groaned loudly and threw his phone on the bed.

She watched him jumping out of the bed before slipping into his boxers. His back red from the scratches she gave him while he was fucking her on this bed just 5 minutes ago.

He went straight to the bathroom, maybe to wash up. She looked up at the ceiling and gulped helplessly. She can still feel the ghost of his hands on her thighs and shoulders, thinking about the promises he made her but was never be able to keep it.

The sound of a ‘ding’ near her ear jolted her out of her thoughts. She glanced to the side and saw his phone unlocked, his home screen was of him with that girl, still.

She bit her lips, wondering if she should sneak a peek at the notification or not and when another ‘ding’ vibrated through his phone, her hands reached up to grab his phone before she can even think.

She moisten her lips and swipe down to click on the notification bar. It opened to a chat.

02:35 a.m.

Jungkook:

Y/n? I wanted to talk to you.

Can we talk today in the evening?

Please?

Are you sleeping?

Baby I know you never sleep this early.

Please reply?

I am really sorry! I just wanna talk.

Only for half an hour I promise!

Y/n? You are online, it is showing. Please reply baby!

02:38 a.m.

I don't wanna loose you!

02:45 a.m.

My life ❤ (Y/n):

I don't have time. Should've thought about not losing me when you fucked that girl in our own room.

Who knows you might still be fucking her.

Anyways don't message me again or I will have no choice but to block you!

She got startled when she heard a thud from the bathroom. Jungkook might have dropped something. She quickly turned off his phone before placing it down bear the pillow. Curling herself more into the blanket, she shifted to her right when tears started forming in her eyes.

“I would break up with her in a few days baby, just wait.”

“You know, Y/n is becoming more annoying now a days. I wanna break up with her as soon as possible.”

“........ I broke up with her and told her t-that I was cheating on her with you.”

“She found another man so soon?”“She really moved on from me within a month!”

“....I t-think I still love Y/n.”

“Jungkook? What are you saying? You broke up with her because you wanted to be with me, right? You even cheated on her with ME!”

She saw him following his ex all day, trying to talk to her, just for her to ignore and roll her eyes at him every time.

She saw him on his knees, crying to that girl, asking her for forgiveness and another chance. He clutched Y/n's hand and sobbed loudly, messily wiping away his tears and blabbing god knows what apologizes.

She saw how Y/n looked rather embarrassed seeing his behavior than feeling pity for his condition. Another man came running in and snatched Y/n's hands way before glaring down at Jungkook's body. He mouthed a quick ‘stay away’ and lead Y/n away from Jungkook.

She glanced in the direction of bathroom when she heard the door click open. Jungkook stared at her in surprise before his face turned into a scowl.

“What are you still doing here? Get out!”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook #bts #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic

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books-and-catears · 1 year

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Unravelling Solomon

(many spoilers for chap 11)

Some personal theories and trying to look at the story from Solomon's lens.

Let's state some canon things we have noticed in the story of both Obey me and Nightbringer.

MC is Solomon's one true soulmate/twin flame

Solomon took an instant liking to MC in the very beginning, calling it mere curiousity.

- I think he sensed a Kindred soul. Just like Thirteen says we both seem like 'cheerful idiots' at the very first glance. Wouldn't Solomon would be even quicker to detect a soul similar to his own?

Thirteen claims our soul sparkles the same way Solomon's used to, it still does the same but just a little different.

- Solomon has gone through some unspeakable trauma damaging his soul to that level. And he's hyper protective that MC doesn't go through the same.

Solomon's card: Threads of Fate. MC's first red string was connected to Solomon.

- Okay, this might be a big stretch but hear me out. We all know Solomon's magic is strong and mostly accurate even in its most experimental stage.

So when his powder of revealing soulmates ended up showing all of MC's bonds - it inadvertently showed the strongest first. The strongest bond between two most similar souls.

....

Solomon's Obsession with Lucifer's Pact

Do you know who has consistently been a direct threat of MC's survival?

From the first dance, as he threatened MC while almost snapping their wrist in half to his most recent attempt on MC's life in the past - it has been Lucifer.

The Lucifer who would rather use his powers and hurt his own brother and an innocent angel just to exact his justice on a meddlesome human (cue the scene where MC protects Beel and Luke).

The Lucifer who doesn't hesitate to lose his head and attempt to destroy MC even though he noted how MC has been slowly and surely healing his brothers.

The same Lucifer who even now, tries to eliminate you as a threat even as his own brothers vouch for your integrity and you try to prove your good intentions.

Solomon watches helplessly as you constantly throw yourself at the mercy of this fallen angel.

In season 2, Solomon legit states that he would have stabbed Lucifer to save the three realms himself if it didn't upset you. Imagine how he must feel knowing you almost killed yourself to save this very demon - only to be hurt by this demon again.

Wherever Lucifer goes, his brothers tend to follow. He's the pillar holding the brothers together. Solomon knows the only way to keep Lucifer and some of his equally volatile brothers , he simply needs a pact with him.

What better way to ensure Humanity's safety, especially your safety, than to control the most probable cause of chaos?

But because he couldn't do that, so instead he started MC to be stronger in Magic, fortifying the defense on MC. Making sure MC can make the pacts to protect themself and humanity along with Solomon.

But still he knows, you're too kind for your own good and you don't have a heart cruel enough to give up on the demon brothers no matter what they do to you, so he still hopes to make the pacts himself so he can do what's necessary when things get worse.

.....

Solomon's Wrath and Request

Can you imagine how Solomon might have felt in the timeline where his MC was killed? The growing rage and guilt that it all happened so far away where he couldn't be there to save you? Barbatos had to merge the timelines for a reason.

Now imagine him seeing it all happen again, the fear in your eyes, your body frozen never even attempting to save yourself because you don't want to hurt the demons. But this time he's here - and he won't let it happen.

Do you know how much rage must bubble under his skin to reach up to this throat and peek through his never faltering smile?

The reason he begs and pleads you to choose humanity over the demons, it's only to make sure you're not caught in the wrong side of the war.

Of course he manipulates demons into pacts and acts shady around them, because look what happened to MC when all they did was be righteous, helping the brothers them the right way.

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me theories #obey me angst

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klausysworld · 1 year

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Hi can you do an angry / jealous Dom Klaus.

With BDSM and " you know i love you right because I am going to fuck you like i don't" vibes please

Only you

You were shamelessly flirting with Lucien right in-front of Klaus. You knew it was dangerous and you knew it would have consequences but you were mad, Klaus thought he could sweet talk the blond bartender? You could eye fuck his oldest frenemy.

Your hand was placed upon Lucien’s arm, your big doe eyes looking up at his hooded ones as you giggled at his little jokes.

Klaus was sat clutching his glass of scotch, he could feel it cracking within his hand as he watched the nuisance of a man slide his hand up your thigh, when you leaned a little closer to him and glanced at his lips. It was when Lucien let his eyes fall shut and moved to cup your cheek he got up, Klaus’s glass was in a dozen pieces, his footsteps heavy as he stormed over and grabbed ahold of your arm

“i don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing but if you think you’re cleaver or you’re funny i would think again” he growled into your ear, his grip on your upper arm was bruising as he began dragging you out of the bar

“woah hey Nik, look we were just chatting” Lucien laughed standing up but Klaus was…fragile at the moment and swung a punch so hard everyone heard his first sired neck snap. You gasped and many people fell silent watching as Klaus picked you up, threw you over his shoulder and strided out. The second he was out of the door you were pressed against a cold wall, his hand was gripping your hair pulling your head back so he could whisper in your ear

“i will not tolerate disrespect are we clear? you do not ever behave like that again, you have people thinking i allow what is mine to play a whore!? I think the fuck not.” you could feel the heat traveling to your core as you arched your back, your stomach and chest was against the cold surface and your ass pressed onto his crotch

“you started it, you wanted to whore around with the blonde, i was simply showing you how it felt” his knee pushed in between your thighs and your damp panties rested on his leg, his hand moved from your hair and held your neck painfully

“at least she doesn’t behave like a slut, you’re practically humping my leg, did i get you like this? did Lucien? or perhaps you grinded against a different pathetic excuse of a man” you felt anger boil inside you as you attempted to move away from him but just held you firmer, your body hit the wall again and he pushed your face against it

“what is it love? don’t like me telling you the truth? don’t want to hear how pathetic you’ve been?” he slowly moved his leg back and forth letting his jeans rub against the thin material covering your heat

“i’m pathetic? i’m a slut? have you looked in the mirror? god Klaus you invented the term man-whore and your entire life you’ve ran to your brother to fix your every issue!” you yelled pushing against the walk helplessly while also trying to not rut your hips against him and hold in your moans

“shut. the fuck. up.” he breathed shoving your head further making you feel the brick scratch your cheek

“or what? you gonna cry to Elijah about it?” you couldn’t see the pure rage in his eyes. The golden colour they had bled into. In a swift movement your dress was torn from your body and you gasped as the freezing air hit your bare skin, you hadn’t worn a bra under the dress, your nipples felt hard against the rough surface. You remained squished against the building as your heard his belt fall to the floor, he shoved his jeans and boxers down his legs and ripped your little thong from your body. He pulled your waist back against him so you were bent over nothing and breathing shakily against the wall.

“Spread your fucking legs.” he ordered and you did. A finger slid throw you folds collecting your slick before he brought it to your face. You could just see him from the corner of your eye, his expression dark but smug as he forced you to taste yourself

“who made you like this?” he snarled. His hand back to fisting your hair as he lined himself up with the other

“who!” he demanded

“You did! Fuck, you did Klaus okay!?” you yelled and expected him to enter you but he didn’t, yet

“not Lucien then? not another greedy, grubby imbecile!?”

“You know it might’ve been you who got me going but I’m certain Lucien or some other imbecile would help me finish if you don’t just fu-“ you cut your self off when he thrusted inside you completely filling you entirety and stretching you painfully as he did not wait. He immediately started thrusting into you at a supernatural pace. A bruising pace which had tears unconsciously falling down your face.

“stupid whore” he growled pulling at your hair making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure

“crying for me love? being all weak and submissive?” you just gave a choked sob and nodded. You could feel your hot walls swallowing his cock, pulsing around him. The hand that wasn’t tugging your once carefully styled hair was on your desperate clit, the force of his hips had you rubbing against his fingers perfectly. Your lower stomach already began forming that familiar knot and you moaned loudly despite being out in the streets.

“you want everyone to hear you? gonna make people come see me fuck you against a wall because you cant behave for 5 bloody minutes?” his fingers moved harsher and faster when you whimpered an apology and his tip nudged your euphoric spot. You gasped when he angled himself to hit it again, your body knocked against the wall and you brought your hand up to grab onto his wrist as he dragged at your hair. Your other hand remained on the surface trying to support yourself s little bit.

You could feel your knees begging to give in when the knot inside of you tightened along with your soaked walls. You listened to his grunts as you bit the inside of your cheek to remain quieter, he didn’t seem to appreciate it however

“what? now you want to be quiet? now you gonna be good?” his hand left your aching clit making you whimper and let more tears stream down the wall.

“come on sweetheart, beg me to make you finish” you groaned and dropped your hand from his wrist holding onto the bricks that stuck of slightly as he pounded into you expertly. Feeling the knot inside you burn, the sensation soaring while you sobbed and clenched around him. You barely shook your head and gave an inaudible ‘no’ before his hand came down to hit the soft skin on your ass. You body lurched as far forward as it could and his hips snapped to yours faster, impossibly faster. Your spot was being given too much attention and it was tearing you apart, barely able to think at all.

“pl..please” you chocked quietly

“please what” he gruffed

“let me cum…please” you uttered

“why?”

“because i need you to” you whispered and his fingers were back on your overstimulated bundle of nerves having you cry a moan into the air

“you need me?” he grunted circling your swollen clit while still fucking you relentlessly

“need you…so bad” you nodded letting your face feel raw against the filthy surface

“you need me.” he stated and he twitched inside of you

“i need you.” you repeated and felt him begin to release inside you, his pace not faltering and his fingers only speeding up

“them finish for me love, milk me sweetheart” he whispered and threw his head back when your walls spasmed around him and panted a blur of pleasured sounds.

His fingers gradually stopped and his thrusts slowed. He gently pulled out from behind you and pulled his pants up. Carefully he let go of your hair and you turned around, standing straight on wobbly legs. He supported your shivering frame and kissed your cold lips, his fingers softly caressing the grazed skin of your cheek. The kiss was slow and loving..unlike the act you had just experienced

“you know that women means nothing to me, right?” he questioned quietly and you nodded weakly

“i love you, only you” he reminded you and you smiled a little

“i love you too, only you”

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olderjustneverwiser · 1 year

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Baby, Tell Me Why (Eddie Munson)

6.3K. Fem Reader. Childhood best friends, shared trauma, so much pining it hurts. Based on Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex.

Warnings: angst, probable PTSD, a handsy creep (which leads nowhere), and I know literally nothing about D&D I'm sorry.

Masterlist

This felt wrong.

You were unable to pinpoint exactly what about this unfortunate encounter was throwing you off; whether it was the hands inching up your shirt or the fact that the man currently kissing you tasted like scotch instead of the beer that he liked to drink, but everything about this was just wrong.

This uneasy feeling shouldn't have surprised you, and if you allowed yourself to think about it, it didn't surprise you. Not really. The feeling had settled deep in your chest and stayed since Spring; ever since Eddie told you all about what he'd witnessed. Since Eddie Munson, your best and oldest friend, watched Crissy Cunningham die an awful death and had been named a suspect in her murder. You'd known something was wrong even then, but a few days later you had the honor of actually seeing it for yourself; stepping into that awful place and watching helplessly as monsters bit chunks out of him while he screamed. After that, well, you knew the feeling was here to stay.

This felt wrong for a different reason, though, and it wasn't because of an interdimensional threat at the moment. It was because the lips you were kissing weren't his this time.

“Hey, I need to stop,” you mumbled, trying to push this man away, only succeeding in backing yourself more into the bartop that the two of you were currently leaning against. The unforgiving wood of the bar dug into your spine, but it was nothing compared to the way his hands felt on your heated skin. These hands were too soft and demanding, all at the same time. They were grabbing at you instead of holding you; missing the obnoxious rings and guitar string scars.

They weren't Eddie's.

This guy- you couldn’t even remember his fucking name- blatantly ignored your request, “We haven’t even started anything, baby,” He breathed your name as he leaned in to place a greedy kiss onto your exposed collarbone and you couldn’t help but recoil at how it sounded on his tongue; like it wasn’t supposed to be there. It was too deep and harsh and so unlike his.

It never sounded like that when Eddie said it.

With your hands balled into fists, you pushed again, harder, into his chest. “Seriously, get the fuck off,” you grunted, "Get the fuck away from me."

He seemed to finally get the hint, backing up and giving you a look you guessed was supposed to be intimidating. “Fine, you crazy bitch. Enjoy the drinks I bought you.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks and you hated that you felt embarrassed and silly. You ignored the stares from the other patrons as you quickly exited the bar into the humid, summer night. The buzz you were chasing when you first went to the bar was quickly dissipating; you could still taste cheap scotch on your tongue and it made your stomach turn. You had gone to the bar to clear your head, to drink away images of otherworldly monsters ripping your friends open. Instead all you got was a horrible feeling in your gut and an ache in your heart.

You almost felt bad for blue-balling the guy that bought you drinks all night. Almost.

The truth was, you didn't really care because you knew he sure as shit didn't care about you. You had both wanted the same thing from the other; just a warm body and an excuse to not have to sleep alone for a night. To forget about your lives for just one night.

You couldn't do it, though. Thoughts of Eddie filled your mind the second the guy from the bar kissed you (although, thoughts of Eddie never seemed to really leave your mind in the first place these days) and you realized that a tumble in a random guy's bed wouldn't make you feel any better, so you left. It might have been the first good decision you'd made in months.

The only downside was that it left you sad and alone, stranded at a bar on the other side of Hawkins and with no means to get home.

Trudging to the payphone on the side of the bar, you weighed your options. You did not want to walk all the way home at this time of night, and calling a cab just seemed sad. You could call Steve since he had a car, but were the two of you even that close yet?

Probably not.

Which left only one option.

Fuck.

Letting out a huff, you shoved a few coins into the payphone and dialed the number you knew so well. A small part of you hoped he wouldn't answer; it was only just after midnight but maybe he was sleeping. He could be playing D&D or hell, he could even have a date.

You hated how the mere thought of that sat in your stomach. It felt like unease or fear; a sort of jealousy you had no right to feel. You'd been the one to initiate the distance between the two of you, anyway.

It still hurt your heart, though.

But before you could think about that any longer, the ringing stopped, and you heard his voice, raspy and heavy with sleep.

"Who the fuck is calling this late on a work night-"

"Eddie," you interrupted, cringing at the fact that you woke him up, "Eddie, it's me."

The other line was quiet, and you knew that he was wondering why you were calling him. You had been growing ever distant from him over the past few months, ever since the dive upside down. Honestly, you wouldn't have been surprised if he would have hung up in your face. But then you'd heard him sigh, breathe out your name and ask if you were okay, and fuck if that didn't make this that much harder. The fact that he was still being so nice, that even after what had happened between you, his first thought was to ask if you were alright. Even while your friendship was going through…whatever the hell this was, he was still your best friend.

You didn't deserve how nice he was.

You were in this now, though. You'd made the decision to reach out to him and he answered. To not follow through at this point would be a total bitch move.

"I'm fine, I just wondered if you could pick me up? From The Keg on Creek Road?" You finally found the courage to ask.

Silence. And then, "You're calling me at twelve in the morning to give you a ride? Why the hell are you over there anyway?"

You'd been expecting this question, but it still didn't make answering it any easier. The Keg was the complete opposite of where you and Eddie would normally hang out. It was full of pop music and overly sweet drinks, and frequented by former classmates that made you and Eddie's lives hell while you were in school. You didn't want to tell Eddie that that was precisely why you chose this place; that The Hideout reminded you too much of Eddie. The smells, the loud rock and roll music, too many memories to count. It was too much, and tonight you needed something that was the total opposite of that.

Or, so you thought.

You couldn't tell Eddie that, though. Your nerves were getting to you and you could feel the guilt bubbling in your chest and you cursed yourself for being stupid enough to call him. "Look, I can just walk, I'm sorry I woke you up-"

"Hey, shut it." You could hear sheets rustling in the background, his bed squeaking as he sat up. "Just wait there, okay? Be there in ten."

The drive was tense.

It had only taken him a few minutes to pull up to the bar, eyebrows raising high when you jumped into the van and he got a look at your outfit; short skirt and too-heavy eye make-up. He didn't comment on it, and you were thankful. Eddie didn't even say a word until you were halfway to your apartment on the other side of Hawkins. He didn't have to ask if he was driving you to your place or his. He'd learned these past few months. It didn't make him any less sad, though.

"So, why were you at that dump anyway?" He asked, breaking the silence that had been stewing ever since you'd climbed into his van.

"It's not like The Hideout is any better, Eddie."

"Yeah, I know. Just wondering 'cause The Hideout is kinda our place." He tried to mask the hurt in his voice, but you caught it.

That's what a decade of friendship does to you. You catch every tell, every waiver of each other's voice and expression that flickers on their face. It was both a blessing and a curse.

You shrugged, played with the hem of your skirt to avoid his gaze. "I don't know, I just wanted something different I guess."

He was quiet for a beat, until he took another look at the skirt currently riding up your thighs and you swore you could hear the gears turning in his head until they finally clicked into place.

"Oh, I get it now. You wanted something different from me, right? Thought you'd put on a short skirt, fuck some dickhead guy, and forget everything?" He took another moment to look at you, "Guess it didn't work out, huh?"

"Fuck you," you retorted, but it sounded weak. In this moment, you almost hated how he could read you like a book. It was a skill that he'd always had; he's always been able to figure you out. You'd always loved it; how he would just know what you needed when you needed it, how he could almost decipher your thoughts and how the two of you could have silent conversations across crowded rooms. But right now? Right now, you fucking hated how he could see through you. "It did work, actually. I just changed my mind."

"I wonder why that is."

You groaned, but you knew you deserved this. "Eddie-"

"No, I wanna forget parts of that night, too. I guess-" He paused, took a breath and let the words die before he let them out "Y'know what, never mind. It's not important."

You looked at him, really looked at him for the first time since you got into the van and saw how tired he looked. Not just because he had rolled out of bed minutes prior; curls wild around his face and a threadbare Metallica tee thrown on. No, he looked bone deep, sick-of-the-world-and-the-cards-he'd-been-dealt tired and it broke your heart.

Eddie had changed a lot since that night in the Upside Down. He had finally gotten his diploma a month after the dive, found a decent job paying a living wage a week after that. He was a man, now; no longer stuck in the hell that was Hawkins High. All good things, but he still had pain from his injuries, still had nightmares. Still couldn't play guitar quite right due to a nasty scar on his left middle finger from those fucking bats. Although he had been exonerated for Crissy's murder, some of the small-minded people of this town still called him a freak, a Satan lover, still berated him when they saw him on the street. And then, of course, there was whatever was going on with the two of you at the moment.

You knew it had all been taking a toll on him. The hurt was written all over his face whenever he'd hear another insult thrown his way. When you wouldn't sit as close to him as you used to or wouldn't spend the night with him like you always had before. You hated how it broke him, but it was something that had to be done. You had to keep Eddie safe, at least until Vecna came back and that El girl could fight him, once and for all.

After that…well, you could cross that bridge when you got to it.

The two of you finally pulled up to your apartment building, the old van idling loud enough to wake the whole block. "Are you waiting for me to open your door or something?" He asked when you'd hesitated; still looking at him and trying to find something to say that would make this any better. You couldn't think of anything that could possibly make this whole shitty situation better, so you settled on a simple 'I'm sorry,' because God, you were. Sorry for waking him up, for what happened before the fight, what came after. For Crissy and how strained things were between the two of you right now. You wished he could understand, but then again, it's not like you had given him much to go off of.

Eddie took a look at you, his usually expressive face was eerily blank as he took your simple confession in. He hadn't said anything yet, so you took that as your queue to leave. After you had opened the door and stepped out into the night air, he spoke.

"You don't gotta be sorry, sweetheart. Just can't expect me to keep running after you if you keep pushing me away."

It had been months, and that night was still haunting you. Both the good and the bad memories would flood your subconscious and invade your dreams, leaving you shaking in your bed alone, hot tears pouring out while you tried to ground yourself once you woke. Always just as vivid and horrifying as they were that night.

They'd start out the same way every time. Out in that field with everyone; new friends as well as Eddie, as you all prepared yourselves for the night to come. Everyone had been prepping all day, sawing off shotguns and making shields out of trash can lids. Blasting Kate Bush and Billy Joel through a tiny speaker. Having play fights in the grass and pointedly not saying goodbye because you all had to come out of this alive, right?

You and Eddie had separated yourselves from the group to put together the makeshift shields, savoring these last few moments with your best friend before all hell broke loose. The two of you were determined to fight alongside everyone and do your part, but you needed this alone time with Eddie and you think he needed it, too.

"You ready to jump into the great unknown?” Eddie had asked you once the weapons were made and the gang was preparing to leave.

You snorted, "Oh yeah, I was born ready to go up against a monster from another dimension. Easy peasy."

"You don't have to come with us, y'know. It's not your fight."

"Then who would protect you and the kids?" Your tone was teasing, but you suddenly got serious "I'm not leaving you, Eddie. We're in this now. Together, just like it's always been."

It was true, it had always been like this. The two of you, joined at the hip through scraped knees on the playground, the awkward stages puberty brings, high school parties, and everything in between. Through failed study sessions and mocking comments from classmates about living in a trailer park. Through first heartbreaks and late night drives to being wanted for fucking murder. You'd been there through it all, loved him through it all so you'd be damned if you’d leave him now, when he needed you most.

Eddie nodded, blushing at your words in a way that was so not Eddie. He looked at you with a curious look in his eye; like he was trying to see through the brave face you put on. Trying to decide how far he should push, if he could muster up just a little more courage to do something he's wanted to do for too long.

"Hey," he started, clearing his throat and looking so uncharacteristically nervous, "Do you wanna go and get food after this or something?"

You cocked your head, cocked a brow because you didn't know where this was coming from. "Eddie, we hang out literally every day."

He rolled his eyes, grinning a bit "Yeah, but I mean, after the dust settles and everything, can I take you somewhere? Y'know, like a date?"

You couldn't help but smile at his question because despite what was happening, despite where the two of you were going in just a few moments, Eddie was asking you on a date. The whole situation was almost absurd; the fact that this is what Eddie was thinking about at a time like this, but at the same time, it was so perfectly Eddie. It made you forget about the Upside Down and Vecna for just a few seconds.

The impending fight had your heart feeling like lead, but this made your heart feel lighter than it ever had before. The fact that Eddie liked you, hell, maybe even loved you back? It made your heart pound and your cheeks feel hot and you were smiling wider than you had in weeks. But he must have mistook your silence as rejection, so he did something he did only with you. He backtracked, self-deprecated in case you said no.

"I know you probably don't want a three time high school senior so we can forget about it-" and you didn't let him finish that thought; didn't let him continue thinking that you didn't want him because you had wanted him for so long. And learning that he wanted you back? Well, it almost made this little suicide mission seem worth it. So you closed the small gap between you, grabbing his leather jacket in both hands and pushing yourself onto your tiptoes to press your lips to his.

If Eddie was surprised he didn't show it; you both knew that it was literally now or never so he brought both hands to cup your face, and you swore you heard a little sigh of content come out of him. You didn't care that you most definitely had an audience, didn't mind when his boar ring got caught in your hair because you were kissing your best friend. It had never felt like this before; kisses with past lovers and quick hook-ups were always fine, always doing what they were meant to do but this? This felt like something else entirely; a fucking meteor strike and you never wanted to live without it again.

You don't know who whistled and yelled at the two of you to break apart, but eventually you did, knowing that it was time to fight. Eddie had a new kind of fire in his eyes now, like he had something else to fight for. Not just revenge or his innocence.

"Why don't we finish this conversation later?" He asked, and you hummed your agreement, foreheads pressed together and savoring that little moment of bliss.

But then, the scene in your dream would change. The blues and greens from the field would morph into black, red, and indigo and you were all in the Upside Down. You and Eddie were together, everyone else in their own factions doing their part. The two of you weren't fairing well, and you could see that the other groups weren't doing much better. Both of you were tired and scared and completely at a loss of what to do next. Then Eddie had his brilliant idea to distract the bats, so he found his guitar in his trailer and put on a fucking concert; ultimately using himself as bait.

It was a good idea, in theory, and it worked to get them off of everyone else's trail. But it also caused them to fly straight for Eddie. Eddie didn't stop playing, though, just screamed for you to get away and get safe and the next thing you knew, they were attacking him.

They were all around him, at least a hundred swarming him and suddenly they were mauling him. The only sounds you could hear were the tearing of flesh and his screams of absolute agony. You don't know who was holding you back while the bats picked at Eddie, bit chunks out of him but you tried with everything you had to get free and run to Eddie. Eddie, who you were watching die an awful, painful death. Eddie, your best friend, the best fucking part of your life was dying and all you could do was scream helplessly for him.

Then, the horrible dream would end and you'd wake with a start, fresh tears on your face because you had remembered what it felt like to be in that place again.

Tonight was no different, and you'd awoken just moments prior, throat raw and heart threatening to beat right out of your chest. You forced yourself to breathe, in and out, until it evened and your brain realized that you weren't in that place anymore, that you were safe and Eddie was alive.

He wasn't with you, but he was okay.

You wished he was here, though. You wished he could be laying in bed next to you like he did that night.

Steve had dropped you both off at Eddie's trailer after the fight. Eddie was still wanted for Crissy's murder so he couldn't exactly waltz into a hospital just yet, and there was no way in hell that you were leaving his side after what had happened, so it was really no question. You carefully washed the blood and ash out of Eddie's hair, cleaned him up as best as you could and disinfected his wounds, never leaving his side for more than a second because you almost lost him just hours earlier. When you were done, your bones protested and you didn't want to be alone but Eddie gently guided you to his shower, left fresh clothes for you while you washed the grime down the drain. It didn't make you feel better like Eddie promised it would; you still felt dirty and defeated; your hands still shook as you dried yourself. Only when you slipped on one of Eddie's old tee-shirts and fell into his bed next to him did any semblance of peace find you.

And as you both laid in his bed that night, clinging to each other like a lifeline, you felt Eddie press a kiss to your forehead, heard him whisper something you couldn't quite make out before succumbing to your exhaustion.

You slept peacefully that night; partially from the adrenaline wearing off but mostly because Eddie was next to you, your legs tangled with his and his arm never wavering from its place around your waist. You woke before Eddie the following day, deciding to just watch him for a few moments and while you did, wondering what was next for the both of you, something in your brain shifted.

You don't know what prompted it, whether it was the gashes and bruises that littered Eddie's face, chest, and arms, or the pained grunts that left him when he'd shifted in his sleep, but you were reminded of how he sounded when he yelled in pain. How he screamed at you to get safe while he was being attacked.

How he came so incredibly close to dying, mere hours after you'd kissed him for the first time.

Was that supposed to be some sort of sign? Some kind of warning from God to leave things the way they'd always been? It sure seemed that way since your world very nearly ended that night in the Upside Down. So, you heeded the warning. Untangled your limbs from Eddie's and kept your distance. Cleaned his wounds again when he woke up and then left, made some excuse and pretended like you didn't notice the hurt etched on his face. Ignored the way your heart broke and forcing yourself not to think about his heart breaking. Convinced yourself that this was the right choice. For the weeks that followed, you didn't mention the kiss and cut Eddie off when he tried to bring it up. Made a point to not hang out with him one-on-one as much.

It hurt you, and you know it hurt Eddie but it was better this way. Act like you’d always had, maintain your place as Eddie Munson's best friend and nothing more. Ignore the way your heart fluttered when you were with him until it didn't flutter anymore. Pretend like you weren't breaking his heart in the process.

It was better this way.

It had to be.

You'd always loved D&D nights.

Not for the game specifically; Eddie had tried teaching you the ins and outs of his beloved game multiple times throughout your friendship but had failed every time. The storylines didn't captivate you like they did Eddie, and the intricacies seemed to go over your head each time he explained something to you. It wasn't for a lack of trying on your part; you really did try to learn the game, but it was almost impossible to focus when Eddie was right there, a hand over yours, showing you a figurine, a trick in one of the thousand books.

No, you'd loved D&D nights simply because you loved watching Eddie in his element. It had always captivated you; how he'd become so enraptured by the story he wove together, his silly little dungeon master voice, how happy he was when he was surrounded by his friends every other Friday night. You'd happily sit and watch the game for hours, which you had done more Fridays than you could count at this point.

If you thought about it, you were sure that this is where you fell for Eddie over the years. Watching his eyes light up; being completely free and totally himself without any worry or judgment from people that didn't even know him. It had long become one of your favorite pastimes; lounging in the background or pretending to study while you listened to Eddie ramble on about fake monsters.

That was, until the ground opened up and you learned those monsters were real.

That knowledge hadn't deterred the kids, though. Hellfire nights continued, on most Friday nights, only now held at Eddie's place instead of Hawkins High since he'd graduated months ago. You'd skipped the last few, for obvious reasons, but Robin and Steve had practically begged you to come when they showed up at your door, unannounced, a gaggle of teenagers in the backseat. They wore you down and you reluctantly agreed to join them, if only to sit on the couch and shit talk with Robin and Steve.

Well, also because you really fucking missed Eddie.

It had only been a few weeks since you had called him to give you a ride home, and you had seen each other here and there since then, but it wasn't like it was before. You knew that was entirely your fault; you chose to put this distance between you, but you missed his voice and his laugh. Missed just being with your best friend.

So, you found yourself nestled into Eddie's couch next to Robin and Steve, watching Eddie and the kids from the sidelines. You had to admit, it felt nice, normal, even with these kids you now called friends. Dustin yelling over Mike, little Erica yelling over both of them, Will Byers taking every morsel of advice Eddie gave about being a good DM. And Eddie, God, he looked better than he had in months. Eyes wide, smile even wider. Even his scars looked infinitely better. He had pulled his hair up and opted for a Hellfire shirt with the sleeves cut off due to the late summer heat, allowing you to see that the angry red marks had finally turned into little pink and white clusters along his arms, neck, and jaw. You only hoped that he was sleeping better these days, not having quite as many nightmares as you still were.

“You’re staring, y’know,” Robin muttered into your ear, quiet enough to only be heard by you and Steve, thanks to the shouting going on at the game table.

You forced your eyes away from Eddie, meeting her gaze and the smirk on her face, “What? No I’m not, shut up.”

“Yeah, you’re not convincing anyone.” Steve replied with a laugh. You didn’t have anything to say to that, so you opted for grabbing a popcorn kernel from the bag and throwing it at his head, which he caught instantly, popping it in his mouth. He was truly infuriating sometimes.

Robin didn’t relent. “Seriously, after that huge make-out session before we dove Upside Down-”

“It was not a huge make-out-”

“I thought you and Eddie would have professed your undying love for one another or something.”

For a split second you were tempted to shut her down, bite back and say that she didn't know what the hell she was talking about, if only to save face. That desire died when you looked at her face and didn't see any malice, or mischief, or judgment. Just a friend asking about another friend.

"It's complicated." Was the response you settled for.

"Really? 'Cause from where I was standing, it looked like you two were totally in love with each other."

"Geez Robin, were you watching us or something?"

"She totally was," Steve said with a mouthful of popcorn.

"It was kinda hard not to, with the lovebirds making out everywhere."

"We were not making out!" Your words came out as a harsh whisper to not alert the table.

Robin sighed, "Look, I'm just asking 'cause you looked way happier right before the fight than you have in months, and I think it's because of what happened before the fight."

And shit, there was really nothing you could say to that because she was right, of course. That night was the last night you'd really been content, funnily enough. Because everything had gone to absolute shit after. Most of it was your fault; this self-isolation, once seeming like the only choice that made sense.

But now, you were lonely, and sad, and you weren't so sure of the brilliant idea you'd had to leave Eddie alone that morning.

Robin opened her mouth to speak again, but she was cut off by multiple voices screaming No! and boisterous laughter, coming from the Dungeon Master himself.

"Funny that you all thought you could pull one over on me. Better luck next time, ya suckers." Eddie's smile was downright villainous, enjoying the kids' scowls and muttered curses way too much. Before they could wallow in sorrow for much longer, Steve was grumbling about the time, and having to get the kids home as quickly as possible, Robin practically shoving kid after kid towards the front door.

"Are you guys really not picking up this mess?" You asked, eyeing the food wrappers and crumpled up papers that littered the floor. "How the fuck am I gonna get home if you leave?"

Dustin turned at your question, trying (and failing) to morph his features into a look of innocence. "Oh, you'll help him, won't you? I'm sure Eddie would be more than happy to escort you home later. Besides, we all gotta get home soon or our parents will kill us. Bye!"

One by one they hurried out the door, and you realized that your friends had meddled, trying to play matchmaker. By the look on Eddie's face, he was just as caught off guard as you. But Dustin was right, you weren't going to make Eddie clean up his own place after the gang made a mess of it, so you offered to stay and help, Eddie throwing you an appreciative smile as you did so.

"Thanks for helping me clean this up."

"I don't mind. Besides, it's not like I had much choice since our so-called 'friends' ditched."

"They're not very subtle, are they?" Eddie joked. It was quiet after that; the comfortable kind of quiet that you had grown used to over the years. Eddie collected his notes, folded up the game table while you picked up Pepsi cans and half empty chip bags. Everything felt almost normal until Eddie spoke up minutes later, his voice hesitant.

"Can I ask you a question?"

You stilled, because you knew what was coming. How could you not, when the same question had been eating you up inside, wondering if the decision you made was really for the best?

Eddie continued when you didn't respond; nerves apparent, the confidence he faked wavering. "Why did you leave that morning? You know, we were good- great, even, before everything, and even after, but then it was like everything changed outta nowhere. Did I do something, or say something to make you leave?"

"Eddie…" your voice trailed off, hating how unsure of himself he sounded. "You didn't do anything wrong, I promise."

"Then what happened? And don't fucking blow me off like you have been for months because I know something happened." He took a seat on the sofa when you did, close enough that his right knee touched your left and his voice was soft when he spoke next. "Come on, we've shared all our secrets with each other since we were kids. Can you just tell me what happened?"

You don't know where the tears came from, why your emotions were hitting you so hard but your eyes burned at that. Maybe it was the way he was looking at you; big, brown eyes as dark as molasses with a look that was just as sweet. Or the simple fact that you had missed him, missed just talking and being with him.

Maybe it was because you had been kidding yourself for months. Playing pretend and kidding yourself into thinking that any amount of distance could ever sever the bond you and Eddie had. Because you loved Eddie. Loved all of him; even the parts he hated about himself. Loved him as a friend, but so much more, too. And it had been so incredibly foolish to think that you could live without your best fucking friend.

You didn't realize that your tears had fallen until Eddie gave your knee a squeeze and you wiped your face with your fingertips, fought the lump in your throat to get the words out. "I guess I just got scared. Like, I kiss you, and then you're bleeding out an hour later. It just seemed like an omen or something." You sniffed, paused your rambling when you noticed the confused look on Eddie's face.

“This is why you've been avoiding me and acting all weird? You know you didn’t make me get hurt, right?”

“I know I didn’t, like, hold you down, but it was just an awfully big coincidence.” Your face felt hot as you looked at Eddie; there was something like mirth in his eyes, lips pursed together like he was trying to hold in a laugh. “It's silly, I know, but I felt like you got hurt because of me!”

Eddie was nice enough to not laugh at that, opting to take your hands in his instead. “Look, all the kids were down there, and everyone else was in the house, so it was just me and you, right? And I wasn’t about to let the kids - or you get hurt, so I tried to fight. And if I got hurt, then too bad, ‘cause I wanted to make sure you and the kids were okay. I’d do anything to keep you safe. I’d decided that long before you laid one on me in that field.”

“Seriously?”

“Hell yeah! You’ve always been my girl; wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.” his voice got softer; his hands squeezed yours a little tighter and you could feel all of the worry and guilt and heartache that you'd been feeling leave your body. "Can we please stop this whole 'avoiding each other' thing and go back to how things were before? 'Cause I gotta be honest, I missed you like crazy."

"Missed you too. I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't," You told him, but it didn't seem like enough. If these past few months had taught you anything, it was that Eddie Munson made your life better just by being in it, and after all that you both had been through, he deserved to hear it. To know how much you cared for him, how much he meant to you. He deserved to hear that you loved him because, fuck, you really did.

"You know I love you, right?" You whispered, like it was some secret. Like you both didn’t already know how the other felt.

Eddie just smiled, a big, genuine smile and nodded. "'Course, I love you too."

"No, I really love you, Eddie."

"I know, and I really love you, back." Eddie said, elongating the 'really' until it made you laugh; a short, sweet sound that he had missed more than he'd like to admit.

He released your hands, only to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you close to him, and you felt him relax when you curled into his side. "So, you wanna stay over, get breakfast in the morning?"

You couldn't contain the warmth that bloomed inside your chest, the wide smile that mirrored his own as you turned your head and looked up at him, "What, like a date?"

"Yeah, like a date. If you don't have anywhere to be." His tone was teasing, not mean in any way but you still felt the need to make it right. Make sure he knew that you weren't leaving this time.

“I’ll stay as long as you'll have me, Munson.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things fic

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sophierequests · 1 year

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a deal is a deal // set it up part one

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Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

A/N: I have no words or reason for this fic. I watched the movie 'Set It Up' recently, and I just knew that I had to write a fic inspired by it. I didn't intend on indulging in it this much, but this fic will definitely be a two-partner since I have written almost 10K words and I can't possibly post that monstrosity in good conscience. I absolutely love the concept of matchmaking and fake dating, so consider this fic one huge clusterfuck of tropes I enjoy. And I hope all of you can enjoy it too <3

You can find part two here!

Summary: Wylan and Jesper are helplessly pining over each other, and everyone is starting to get sick of it. Especially Kaz and the reader seem to have suffered enough under their friends' behaviour. So of course, the only reasonable conclusion is to set them up.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5.0K

Warnings: Cursing, feelings, Kaz being a little bitch, pining, mention of his touch aversion

“Unless you saw someone cheat at Three Man Bramble, I don’t appreciate you spying on paying customers.” You were close to falling off your barstool when Kaz’s voice materialised beside you all of a sudden.

“For Saints’ sake, Kaz!” you hissed at the darkly-clad man leaning against the bar to your left, a certain look of amusement accentuating his features as he saw the way you panickedly held onto the counter. He shook his head at how easily startled you were. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that. I was dangerously close to knocking you out.”

He raised his brows, throwing a telling glance at his cane, and then back at you. Sneaking around wasn’t exactly his speciality. At least not during the main business hours of the Crow Club. He preferred to make his presence known.

“Didn’t I just tell you to stop prying?” Kaz repeated nervelessly when your eyes returned to the card’s table you had been staring at for about half an hour now. Not that he would know how long you had been sitting here. It’s not like he had been watching you during said half an hour. He had other - a lot more significant - tasks to tend to, rather than wasting his time by letting himself get distracted by you.

“Shush,” you silenced him quickly, craning your head slightly towards him to get a better view of your stalking victims. “I’m not spying on paying customers. I’m spying on Jesper and Wylan. That’s as far away from paying customers as it can get.”

“And why exactly would you do that?”

“Jesper went right to the gambling tables after we came back from the job earlier, and he has stayed there ever since. I assume you can guess who has been standing right next to him for just as long? Our little merchling is so in love, it’s painful to watch,” you whispered excitedly, completely ignoring the fact that Kaz was not one to necessarily care for dull relationship gossip.

“I should stop giving you this much time off if this is how you choose to spend it,” he grumbled, subtly following your gaze to watch the terribly awkward scene between the two Crows. Not because he genuinely cared about their immature ways of expressing their emotions, of course.

“Don’t be such a grump, Brekker,” you snorted, giving him a playful eye roll. “Admit it, they’d make such a cute couple! They could probably even compete with Nina and Matthias - don’t tell her I said that.”

“Judging by the fact that Zenik and Helvar were blood-sworn enemies before they fell into their…situationship, that won’t be such a difficult task.”

“See! You think they’d be a great fit too! What a shame one is just as oblivious as the other,” you sighed, twirling around the few remaining ice cubes that floated around in your drink.

“And you think staring them down will help ease their obliviousness?” Your head turned to face him fully, a mischievous glimmer present in your eyes. A glimmer he really didn’t like.

“Help me,” you blurted out.

“Help you with what?” he asked, a quizzical expression on his face.

“Oh, uhm, I have no concise plan yet since I thought you’d just immediately say no to me asking you for help. What I know is that I can’t watch them tiptoe around their feelings any longer. I need to do something. And you are precisely the right person to help me with that.”

“What exactly makes me the ‘right person’ to help you with getting these two idiots together?”

“Think about it. I’m Wylan’s best friend, you’re Jesper’s best friend - don’t you dare deny it! Together we can get all the intel - all the important information on how they feel about each other. It’s perfect! We could set them up and they wouldn’t even notice our involvement.”

“Absolutely not,” Kaz answered determinedly, choosing to not indulge in your childish games any longer. “As long as it’s not affecting their job performance, their relationship is none of my concern. I have more important things to do than worry about their problems with intimacy.”

“Come on, Kaz. Please?” you pouted as the man in question already shifted to head back to his office again.

“No, Y/N. They’ll be fine without our interference,” he tactfully ignored your overly dramatic plea.

“Alright, alright,” you mumbled, watching him leave with a hint of disappointment settling in your chest. “You’ll regret it eventually.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Jesper, you’ll need to- Jesper? Jesper, focus,” Kaz ordered, having to pry the sharpshooter’s eyes away from the window for what felt like the hundredth time today. He, Inej and the lovesick Zemeni boy had been working on the details of a minor upcoming job for over two hours, seemingly not making any noticeable progress. It was safe to say that this issue was instantly accredited to Jesper, whose mind appeared to be somewhere completely else.

Even though Kaz didn’t want to admit it, he did regret not taking you up on your offer of trying to get the two together. It had become more and more evident that they were too blind to see that their feelings were mutual, and Kaz was starting to get sick of it. Why couldn’t they just act on their feelings and spare everyone around them the pain of having to watch them act like insecure little kids? What did they have to lose? It was ridiculous, really.

Kaz knew that he was close to losing his patience. And his composure would jump out of the window soon after if things didn’t change.

“Sorry boss,” Jesper apologised hastily, sitting up a bit straighter and at least acting as if his attention was back on the mindless scribbles in front of him. “I was just a bit lost in thought. The…weather is so pretty today, after all.”

The weather in question was a mixture of dark gloomy clouds and the occasional rain shower - a typical day in Ketterdam, but definitely far from pretty. Maybe the weather that Jesper had in mind was ginger and able to play the flute, Kaz thought.

“We should probably leave this here,” he let out a huffed breath, meeting Inej’s confused glance.

“What? But the jo-”

“The job can only work if everyone is on the same page,” he interjected Jesper’s unnecessary attempt at defending himself. “You can leave - both of you. I’ll see what I can work out on my own.”

“Are you sure you won’t need any help with this?” the Suli girl asked hesitantly, waiting for her friend to give them another task instead of just letting them off the hook this easily.

“No, it’s fine. Go,” he nodded towards the door, his eyes following Jesper, who was already on his way out. Before Inej could do the same, he decided to give her one last task. “Inej? Tell Y/N to come up here in the next five minutes. I need to discuss something with them.”

“You wanted to see me, boss?” you questioned as soon as you entered Kaz’s semi-tidy office space. When Inej told you that he wanted to speak to you, your heart almost sunk to the bottom of your stomach. People being called up to speak to Kaz rarely ever got out with their dignity still intact.

“Sit,” he demanded, his gaze never leaving the papers on his desk as he motioned for you to sit in the chair across from him.

“Kaz, if this is about th-”

“Don’t start. Whatever you were about to tell me has probably not been brought to my attention yet, so I won’t allow it to occupy my mind until it pops up on its own. Now sit.”

You carefully obeyed his request, slowly sinking into the offered chair while your eyes still remained fixed on the man in front of you.

“He has become absolutely insufferable,” Kaz sighed, letting his fountain pen drop out of his hand and finally acknowledging your physical presence with a defeated glare. “I didn’t even think it was possible for him to become even more intolerable.”

“Who exactly are you talking about?”

“Who do you think I’m talking about? Our favourite bawdy flirt-gill has been acting like an infatuated teenage girl and it is driving me mad.”

“Oh! You’re talking about Jesper!” you let out a stifled laugh upon seeing his tired expression. “So you’re basically admitting that I was right about us having to intervene?”

“I’m merely admitting that there was some truth to what you were saying. Don’t get it twisted and don’t get used to it,” he corrected dryly. “And wipe that self-satisfied grin off your face. I didn’t call you up here to bask in your supposed victory.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do about it?” you replied sheepishly, fully aware that you were dangerously close to testing your limits.

“I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like this.”

“Consider it a deal.”

“When I told you that I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like a dotty puppy, I didn’t mean that you were allowed to barge into my office whenever you please,” your boss grumbled, watching you stumble through the door like you had one drink too many.

“Good morning, Kaz, it’s lovely to see you too,” you dismissed his very obviously spiteful remark, walking right up to the chair you had dubbed yours. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our two problem children and I had an idea.”

“Oh, so miracles do happen,” he jeered, letting himself lean back in his chair as he watched you get comfortable.

“With all due respect - which isn’t a lot - go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll consider it once you’re done telling me about that magnificent idea of yours.”

“Okay, so, Wylan just stopped me in the hallway to ask whether I want to get coffee with him next Friday.” A waterfall of words began to tumble out of your mouth, giving Kaz quite a few difficulties following what you were trying to say. “So, wouldn’t it be an absolute coincidence if Jesper would also go out for a coffee on Friday? It would be such a nice change of pace for them to spend time with…different people - other than us.”

“I am not asking Jesper to go get coffee with me,” Kaz replied laconically, giving you a dissatisfied look in an attempt to convey that he was not too fond of your musings.

“I am not asking you to get a coffee with Jesper - Saints, that man is going to think that you have a thing for him. We don’t even have to leave the Slat for this plan to work.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“Please explain to me again why specifically I have to join you on that job?” Jesper bemoaned as he followed Kaz down the stairs. He was not in the mood for playing his boss’ bodyguard today. He wasn’t even in the mood to leave the Slat. It didn’t help that a certain merchling had been occupying his mind for the entirety of last week, pushing every coherent thought to the furthest corner of his brain. “Can’t you ask Inej? Or Matthias? Or literally anyone else? Wait, why don’t you just ask Y/N? You two seem to be getting along surprisingly well recently.”

“Y/N is already busy,” Kaz objected skilfully. “And having a normal work relationship is not the same as ‘getting along surprisingly well’. Flush these thoughts out of your system immediately.”

“I’m just saying,” Jesper snickered, putting his hand up in front of him defensively.

“Kaz? Jesper?” your cheery voice greeted them as soon as they entered the living room area. Wylan and you had been lounging on the couch for quite some time now, simply chatting about life - and love, even though Wylan refused to give you too much information on his ill-fated crush. Of course, you had ulterior motives for staying that long, but your friend didn’t know that. “What are the two of you up to?”

"We have a job near Fourth Harbour," Kaz replied sternly.

"And he's forcing me to come with him," the sharpshooter groaned, his eyes drifting towards the timid boy sitting next to you, flashing him a cocky wink. "What are you up to? Whatever it is, it looks like a lot more fun than whatever Mister Ruin-My-Mood has in store for me."

"Jesper," Kaz warned, throwing you a quick glance, wordlessly asking you to take over.

"We wanted to head out for coffee and some sweet treats later," you mused, watching Jesper's expression turn sour.

"Won't you look at that, Kaz? This is what other friends do in their spare time," he grumbled.

"Hey, why don't you two just go and grab a coffee?" you offered, your gaze wandering between the two soon-to-be lovebirds.

"Us?" Wylan stammered, his finger pointing from him to Jesper, who looked equally as befuddled.

"Yes, you. Jes clearly isn't in the mood for going on a job today, and I haven't been on a proper one in ages," you suggested, giving your friends an encouraging smile.

"You genuinely want to join Kaz on a job with just the two of you? Like willingly?" the Zemeni boy joked, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

"I'm sure I'll manage. Kaz?" You gave him an expectant look, watching as the ghost of a smirk flashed over his lips.

"Fine," he rasped, causing Jesper to break out into a wide grin, whilst Wylan looked a little short of horrified. "Maybe now we'll actually get some work done."

"And maybe we'll finally get some peace and quiet, won't we? I haven’t gone out just to get coffee in such a long time.” His attention turned to the young merch, whose head had turned as red as the soles of Jesper’s shoes.

“I’m sure you will have the loveliest of days,” Kaz deadpanned, gesturing for you to follow him outside into the hallway.

“Enjoy your day!” you called before quickly exiting the living room, leaving Wylan alone to deal with his crush. You could have sworn that he mouthed the word ‘help’ before you crossed the threshold to the corridor.

“That worked way better than I had expected,” he uttered, barely loud enough for you to hear his words clearly.

“I told you it would work,” you bragged, earning a disapproving headshake from the man standing next to you. “You’re not the only mastermind in this team.”

“So what’s the next step in your plan then?”

“We could just stay back here and wait for them to come back. I’m sure they’d tell us if something happened between them.” You locked eyes with him again, the intensity causing goosebumps to spread over his arms. “Or we could get out and follow them. Just to make sure that they’re alright of course.”

“I’m not following them.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kaz said as he watched you gape at Jesper and Wylan who were currently sitting on the terrace of the café you had pushed them to go to. You found a corner table at the bakery across from where your friends were sitting, giving you the chance to stay unnoticed while also being able to see whatever was going on between them.

“This is fun,” you hummed, leaning a bit further forwards to flash Kaz a cheeky smile, which was slightly hidden by the obnoxious fake roses in the middle of the table. “Don’t you want to see how this will turn out?”

“No.” You frowned at the impassive tone of his voice.

“You didn’t have to join me, Kaz.” He didn’t. He knew that. As a matter of fact, the pile of unfinished documents on his desk only seemed to get higher by the minute. Yet, against all his better judgement, he still abandoned his work in an instant just to go and see whether your plan was working or not. It was foolish to agree to it, however, for some reason, he still did. He was going insane - he was sure of it.

“I don’t trust you to not fuck this up on the first chance you get,” he stated after a short moment of him just staring at the empty space beside your head.

“You trust no one, yet I don’t see you holding Matthias’ hand whenever you let him go on a solo job - well, metaphorically holding his hand.”

Before Kaz could defend himself, the waitress approached your table, bringing over both of your drinks. She had a sickly sweet smile on her painted lips that made him want to bash his head onto the table. He resisted said urge in order to not make a scene though.

“I’ll assume the black coffee is for you?” the woman joked, eying Kaz’s grimly-looking outfit from head to toe, silently accepting the cup and placing it in front of him. She handed you the drink you had ordered and turned around to attend to the other guests. “Feel free to call me over in case you need anything else. Enjoy your date!”

Kaz almost choked on his own spit when he heard that. This was not a date. Not in a million years would he consider this a date. He attempted to seek some sort of confirmation that you shared his sentiment, but when he looked at your face, you didn’t even seem to care about the waitress’ atrocious assumption.

“What is it?” you inquired lowly on taking notice of his slightly bewildered expression.

“She thinks that this is a date. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“… No? Why should it have?” Kaz mentally thanked his luck that Nina wasn’t around. If she had been here to hear the way his heart was running wild she would have probably thought he had a heart attack.

“This is not a date.”

“Yes, I’m very well aware of that fact,” you let out a breathy chuckle in response to that. “And that’s exactly why it doesn’t bother me. I know that this isn’t a date. You know that this isn’t a date. So why should it matter what some random waitress thinks?”

“Oh…” For some odd reason, your answer disappointed him. This wasn’t a date, so you were right to say it. But something inside of him was beginning to make itself known.

“Oh no,” you muttered, your gaze back on the people you were actually here for. He did the same, regretting it immediately as he saw the uncomfortable scene playing out in the other café.

Wylan and Jesper were sitting across from each other at one of the tables on the terrace, giving you the perfect view of every interaction between them. But instead of them looking like the happy couple you had imagined they would be by now, Jesper was frantically collecting paper napkins, trying to help Wylan clean up the massive coffee stain that had formed a deep brown blotch on his previously neat beige sweater. And to make things even worse, the clumsy sharpshooter had taken matters into his own hands, pulling the flustered boy closer to him by the collar, whilst wiping a dry napkin over the mess he made - his face a mixture of despair and complete distress.

“Idiots,” Kaz sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to spare himself the embarrassment of watching them any longer.

“Maybe we should put them in a situation they’re more acquainted with the next time.”

“Are you familiar with the concept of knocking?” He was close to jumping out of his skin when the door to his office flew open without a warning, only for it to be you standing on the other side with two cups of tea in your hands. He hastily caught himself, acting as if you hadn't just scared him shitless. It was way too late for any person with even an ounce of self-preservation skills to enter his space without giving him any sort of notice, but of course, you just had to be the exception.

“Are you familiar with the concept of locking your door if you don’t want to be disturbed?” you quipped, not waiting for him to give you permission to enter before waltzing right over to his desk. The mug was quickly placed in front of him and you threw yourself into ‘your’ chair.

“This may be the Barrel, but some of its inhabitants still possess the basic manners of announcing their presence when they intend to bother me in my own office.” Kaz eyed your offering suspiciously, pulling the cup towards himself as if he feared that you might have spiked its content. “What is this?”

“Tea?”

“I know that it’s tea. I'm not dense,” he said, a bit annoyed now.

“Then why are you asking?”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Kaz, you’re not a toddler. You know what to do when someone places a drink in front of you.”

“Why are you bringing me tea, Y/N?”

“That's an adequate question. I had another idea on how to get Jesper and Wylan to admit their feelings,” you began, enticing Kaz to internally question every single decision in his life that made him end up in this situation.

“And you needed to bring me tea to make me listen to that idea? You're either about to drug me into submission or you’re finally attempting to kill me.”

“Sadly neither - yet. But I had the idea while making tea. And I would have felt bad if I went up here without offering you something to drink too,” you replied meekly, a faint blush settling on your cheeks.

“I hope your idea isn’t tea-related. We shouldn’t bring the two dimwits near anything that's spillable anytime soon.”

"I solemnly swear there are no liquids involved in my idea. At least not explicitly," you assured.

"That better be the case. Let's hear it then," he muttered, begrudgingly taking a sip from his tea whilst waiting for you to collect your thoughts. It startled him how good the drink tasted. He hated that you knew exactly what tea he liked and how he liked to have it.

"You still haven't finished splitting us up in groups for the upcoming heist, have you?"

"If you hadn't dragged me along to play matchmaker, the plan would already stand," he grumbled, looking at the stack of blueprints he had yet to analyse for possible security risks.

"Then I'd like to make one suggestion. How about we - well, you - pair Jesper and Wylan together? We're all pretty familiar with jobs like this, so that shouldn't be an issue. Maybe having them work alongside each other could give their relationship just the push it needs."

Kaz looked like he was about to throw himself out the next best window. It was one thing that you had inserted yourself into the majority of his spare time like an unwelcome flu. Now you were also trying to insert yourself into his work? You were really trying to break him down to bits. And maybe he should let you.

"Please, Kaz. I'll even help you with all your boring preparation and mapping out. I genuinely think this could work," you put forward, knowing that the likelihood of him agreeing to this plan was close to non-existent.

"I'll allow it," he said, averting his eyes to look at basically anything else just to avoid letting them land on you.

"What?"

"Have you gone deaf? I said that I'll allow it," he repeated.

"Kaz, I swear to every Saint you don't believe in, I'm so close to kissing you - you’re amazing!" you exclaimed jokingly, a wide grin on your face.

"Do it and find out what ditch you'll end up in," he threatened, but you were too excited to care about the murderous look on his face.

After almost a week of scheming, scheduling and planning in the security of Kaz’s office, you had finally managed to put together a plan that would ensure two things. The success of the job. And the fact that Jesper and Wylan would be staying at each other’s side the whole time.

“I think we can pull this off,” Kaz muttered, visibly still very much in thought.

“You think we can pull this off?” you asked, absent-mindedly twirling one of his pens around your fingers.

“No.” He swiftly snatched it back, putting it down and giving you a self-assured grin. “We will pull this off.”

A few days later, all the Crows had gathered in the cramped attic space, more or less eager to hear about the plans for the upcoming mission.

“Please don’t tell me that we’ll have to go through all of these blueprints again,” Jesper whined as he saw the stack of layout plans that sat at the edge of Kaz’s desk. They had been on jobs in the University District before, so the quite hefty pile of blueprints wasn’t completely unknown to them. More than one evening had been spent slaving over them, spying out every minuscule detail that could give them any sort of advantage. But these plans were new - updated. And everyone dreaded having to do the whole ordeal of looking at them for a second time.

“Y/N and I already went through them, the annotations should suffice. Not much has changed,” Kaz answered, unaware of the suspicious glances his nonchalant comment created. It was well known that you avoided mapping out blueprints like the plague, so this revelation did raise some brows.

“Y/N and you?” Nina and Jesper blurted almost synchronously. They had noticed your absence from their usual evening get-togethers, simply chalking it up to you being under the weather or something. What they hadn’t expected was you sneaking away from them because you went to spend time with the Bastard of the Barrel. Now that they knew the latter had been the case, they had some certain thoughts on what the reason for these nightly visits might be - none of them strictly work-related.

“Congratulations, you have a basic understanding of auditory information processing. Yes, Y/N and I.” Kaz allowed his gaze to shift towards you. It felt odd to not have you sit in front of him, energetically discussing plans and ideas while the noise of Ketterdam’s streets seemed to have fully vanished underneath the sound of your voices. He hated to think that way, but he had grown used to having you around. Whether it be you staggering into his office to propose another utterly insane plot to get your friends to date, or just you keeping him company with whatever talk you could offer. The thought of this routine being ripped away from him once Jesper and Wylan realise their feelings are reciprocated filled him with more dissatisfaction than relief.

“Since when does Y/N care for analysing blueprints?” The Heartrender asked slyly.

“I don’t. It was my forfeit,” you replied before Kaz could. “We had a bet on how much money Jesper would be able to lose in a span of three days. Let’s just say that Kaz really does know you better than I do, Jes.” A lie. A good lie, Kaz thought. The only reason why you would spend your evenings talking to him would probably be the loss of a bet. But that didn’t make the pull on his heartstrings hurt any less.

“Rude,” the sharpshooter pouted.

“Anyway,” Kaz deflected, returning to his actual intention of this meeting. “We also took the liberty of assigning groups and tasks. So I’d advise you to listen carefully.” He adjusted the paper in his hands, letting his eyes fly over your jagged handwriting for the millionth time. “Helvar will pose as a guard - big and brawny with little to think about. One would say it’s the perfect fit.” Matthias let out a dissatisfied grunt at that comment. “Nina and Inej will keep an eye on who leaves, and who enters. And if there is anything suspicious you will alert me.” The two girls gave him a court nod, content that they were able to work together again. “I will attend as a guest. It’ll give me enough time and trust to hopefully get some information on the new ware shipments that are supposed to arrive the week after the ball. Our main objective is getting intel. Any other material acquisitions are just perks. And finally Wylan and Jesper.” The two boys stared at Kaz with an uncomfortable expression. He had never paired them up before. Why was he starting now? “Since the majority of university personnel will be present at the ball, you’ll take care of breaking into the administration’s office. I need some precise data on the involvement of the Council in sponsoring the university.”

“What about Y/N?” A brief pause followed Inej’s simple question.

After all these hours of planning, you had forgotten to add yourself to the equation. You had been so focussed on giving the two lovebirds some alone time that your absence went completely unnoticed. Both of you felt utterly stupid. How could you have missed that?

“They’ll be my date,” Kaz answered a bit too quickly, not letting the thudding of his heart betray his stone-faced expression.

“My condolences.” Matthias gave you an apologetic but calm look, whilst everyone else in the room seemed to be utterly shocked by their boss’ comment. Even you had to suppress the state of absolute shock that had threatened to spread over your face when he referred to you as his ‘date’. Saints, he himself didn’t believe the words that had just slipped out of his mouth.

“I’ll need someone to chat with the merchant spouses, or else I’ll lose my mind. Their presence can buy me enough time to get the information I need,” he explained, but the majority of his friends were too busy interpreting way too much into this situation to acknowledge his reasoning.

Maybe choosing Jesper as a partner would have been easier on his poor heart.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Kaz Brekker: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @juneberrie @writingmysanity @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @brekkers-desigirl @fall-writes

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone x reader #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #kaz brekker fluff

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persage · 1 year

Text

I Promise I'll be worthy- S.HARRINGTON

Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Part 2 of Can I stay with you tonight? ( don't worry it is perfectly understandable without having read the first part)

Summary: After being kicked out of his home, you and your father offer to help Steve, but it's not always easy to save someone, especially when they don't think they're worth it. Things don't go as planned.

Words Count: 6.6 k

Tags: Hopper!Reader Angst with fluff, Jim Hopper being the best dad, Jim Hopper being a father figure for Steve Shitty Harrington's parenting and very traumatized Steve Harrington.

Thanks again to @loving-and-dreaming

It's ironic how in a reality of monsters and dangers, in the ranking of the things that Jim Hopper despises most in the world there are two relatively anonymous and useless people like Mr and Mrs Harrington, and not even in such a low position to be honest. As he watches Mr Harrington throw a bag out the front door in anger, soon followed by none other than his son Steve, Hopper feels a visceral urge to get out of the car and grab the man by the shirt exactly like he is now doing with the boy. He holds him by the jacket, brutally pushing him out of the house. "I'm tired of your headbutts Steven! Come back when you will become a man" Mr. Harrington shouts. Hopper never liked the man. The kid's dark eyes rest on the police chief's car parked nearby and as he is literally thrown out of his own house, Steve shakes his head motioning Jim not to intervene. This however attracts his father's attention, he notices Hopper's car and the two people inside it. You and your dad helplessly watch the scene.

Steve picks up the bag from the ground and walks away with small steps turning back from time to time, looking for the gaze of his own mother who has taken refuge in her house, sobbing and crying as if she really cares about that only son hers. Yet she doesn't intervene. She never did anyway. Steve doesn't blame her, you do. You can't help it.

Steve looks his father in the eye and for the first time in many years finds the courage to answer without apology. "I look like you more than you think dad .... You know, miserable" There is no expression on his face, motionless, impassive even when his father raises his arm with the clear intention of hitting him. With your eyes wide open and your heart pounding in your chest you get out of the car, immediately followed by your father who tries to stop you, to overtake you, to prevent you from being the first to get in the way. But before you or Jim can reach them, Steve has already caught his father's arm in mid-air and is staring at him without daring to say anything. Now that you can observe the way they look at each other, something in you breaks down, because the guy in front of you doesn't even seem the same as always. The sunny, cheerful person, able to calm you down in every situation, has left the place for someone different, as if a part of him - who knows how big and how important - has broken forever after being hit for so long. Slowly Steve lets go of his father's arm, turns around and without daring to look at you or Hopper starts walking towards the car. "Let's go" he whispers. You clench your fists, trying to appease the need to break Mr. Harrington's face and you stand still and observe him for longer than necessary, the old man reciprocates, scrutinizing you from top to bottom like you are scum.

The second in which you get distracted to look around you, it's enough to miss the exact moment in which Mr. Harrington grabs his son by the arm forcefully, with a sort of controlled but scary violence "You wretch!" He screams, squeezing him tighter and tugging at him. "You got the police in, you stupid boy" he shouts on and on, his face red with rage, an expression of pure fury you've never seen before on such a serious and composed face. Steve has his back to you and you're glad you can't see the way his face becomes a mask of sadness, the way his eyes fill with a pain no one has taught him to voice and that once again will make him feel so damn wrong. "What will people say about us huh? Isn't everything you've done to us enough Steven? Sometimes I doubt you're even my son, so stupid, so....miserable."

If you were in another time and context, Steve would laugh to notice you and your father lined up in the exact same position, with the exact same expression on your faces addressed to nothing less than his own dad. His fucking father. Steve actually manages to smile a little, because with the possibilities that nature has given him - after all, he shares that cursed man's genes - he could have been a much worse person. Also he's lucky enough to have you two to worry about him, and Dustin and Rob. That's enough for now. But the thought brings with it a new fear: Steve Harrington, in times he doesn't like to remember, not even too far away, was like his dad and he was proud of it, he did everything to be exactly what his father wanted (without ever succeeding to be honest, grades and intelligence, are things he could not pretend), but what if he is really like that? What if this is his true self? What if all his failed attempts to improve, all the effort he is making to demonstrate in every way that he is a better person, in the end it's only an act great enough to even convince himself? What if, after all, he is just a reflection of the man who he most hates - and loves, at the same time, however absurd it may seem - in the world?

The thought paralyzes him, terrifies him but he is more terrified by the chill between all of you, the immobility of these infinite moments and it scares the shit out of him to see you so close to his father. He knows that Hopper is there and if Hopper is there nothing bad will ever happen to you, but there is no rationality in Steve's mind right now, so he comes back and grabs your hand with sweetness and decision at the same time.

"Let's go" He murmus, his voice is calm and gentle enough to turn you towards him. His cold hands manage to loosen your grip still in a fist, you intertwine your fingers with his, letting them slide slowly, in a light, delicate but firm grip that seems to mean "I'm here, I'm always here ". This is enough to calm down the crazy beating of your heart, it's enough to bring back a shred of light in his eyes, it's almost imperceptible, but it's enough to give you hope that all the wickedness in the world won't be enough to take away the Steve you know.

For the first time since you were born, and even worse since losing Sarah, Jim Hopper doesn't hate seeing you with someone else, a boy. He feels no jealousy, nothing but blind anger and a deep sense of injustice for the poor kid: Jim Hopper hasn't always been a perfect father. To be fair he has been a shitty father for a long time, letting himself go, making many mistakes, and yet he always loved you and this is a certainty that no one will ever be able to take away from you: you've been loved. Apparently Steve Harrington hasn't been so lucky. The idea that this young man who now walks with his head down with you, dragging you along as if he's the one to hold you up- while it's obvious from the way his feet shuffle that he's the one about to collapse- the idea that this boy who has seen death with his own eyes more times than anyone his age should, has never received the comfort of a hug, a pat on the back, a word of reassurance, pisses him off in a terrible way and causes him a deep sadness. With one last look Hopper starts to leave, then turns one last time. "You know Mr. Harrington, you're right about one thing. That boy over there can't be your son, he's far too smart to be"

"Steve" You whisper as you open the car door for him. Steve shakes his head, tries to smile but what comes out is just a distorted expression that doesn't look like a smile at all. "Steve" You repeat, grabbing his face in your hands and caressing it gently. The hint of a beard to be redone, the scars under his skin tell the story of his existence and you feel like it's your story too, cause he is part of you. The most important now. "Please" He replies in a hushed voice. Please, I need time. Please leave me be. Please, I don't deserve you. And Steve doesn't say it, you wouldn't understand, but terror blocks him and he sees himself old, with a few extra pounds, identical to his father, it seems to him an inevitable destiny, and for an instant he wishes he had died in that cursed Russian laboratory.

To convince Steve to stay with you, Hopper had to get his service pistol and threaten him. It was also quite amusing to see him surrender with his hands up and his face white with fear.

"You know boy, I thought I should have pulled a gun on you to keep you away from my daughter, not force you to stay." Jim says, chuckling under his mustache. "Dad!" You exclaim trying to hide your embarrassment, but your face, unlike Steve's, has turned such a deep red that it's impossible not to notice. Now, Jim Hopper has never been a fool, let alone a blind man: he knows perfectly well that you have a crush on this Harrington boy, it's so obvious that if Steve hasn't noticed it, it must be because of all the beatings on the head he's taken over the years. And let's be clear, he normally wouldn't let him get close to you, not even under torture, let alone live under the same roof, yet there is something about the way he treats you that erases his jealousy. Sure, when he finds you snuggled up to him on the sofa watching tv he wants to kick him out of the house and he certainly isn't happy to see the way you curl up against his body in search of a hug, but there's something very respectful and pure in the way he hugs you. Jim then, looking closer, notices he's doing the same with El, like a brother would. He's protective, caring with both of you but Jim notices the way Steve keeps a wall between you two. It's a thin wall, barely visible in his hesitations, which Jim appreciates and acknowledges. It's the wall broken people put up to protect the ones they love, to save them from their problems at least until they're solved. You don't notice all this, too divided between the elation of having Steve Harrington - your beloved Stevie - in your house and the sadness for the circumstances that brought him to you. Oh and also the fact of having left your room to him and having to share one with Eleven, a teenager in full hormonal and sentimental crisis who spends all her time fantasizing about her little boyfriend. It's a punishment, a hell on earth that you endure only because you obviously love your sister very much and also you love the boy who sleeps on the other side of the wall.

"Where are you going little lady?"

You've tried sneaking into his room—yours—sometimes to be honest, legs shaking, wracked with fear of his reaction. You have done it without any specific reason, simply driven by a desire to check that he is doing well, that he is able to sleep peaceful dreams, that he is not troubled by nightmares. Since the day he has definitively left his house, Steve has closed himself in an overbearing silence on the subject, pretending a serenity that he doesn't possess and avoiding you as much as possible. If he's not at work, he's hanging out with Dustin or Robin and if he's not with them you find him chatting with your dad like he would with a close friend, like he should do with you. When he's with you, then, he does everything to get Eleven to be there and it freaks you out. It's not that you expect something from him, but he's your friend, the same person who ran to your house under the flood because he needed you and now that you live together he almost seems like a stranger and it hurts you. That's why you have tried to sneak into his room so many times. Some of them you were stopped by your father, awake in his armchair watching the umpteenth episode of Magnum PI, or rather keeping watch over you two even if he'll never admit it.

"I'm thirsty"

"You have a bottle of water in your room on your nightstand, go back to bed y/n"

Other times you have bypassed your guard dog, just to go back in your room without the courage to enter. Then it happens. Your legs are shaking so hard it's diffult to even walk. Steve has been particularly distant all day and you have heard him crying, locked in the bathroom, still he haven't said anything to you, pushing you away, closed in a silence that continues to hurt you deeply. You finally enter his room and find him awake, sitting cross-legged on the bed with the head in his hands. You approach on tiptoe and he only notices you when you sit on the bed, mattress folds under your weight. He jumps back a little, startled by your unexpected presence. "You gave me a stroke" he whispers, In the moonlight coming through the window you notice that he has no signs of tears on his face and it relieves you. You don't think you can bear to see him in that state again without being able to do anything. Without him letting you help him. "What are you doing here?" He asks. You just smile and with all the spontaneity of the world, while properly hiding your fears and your concern and the very stupid idea that maybe Steve seems so far away from you because he has understood that you have feelings for him and he doesn't reciprocate them or, even worse, 'cause he has started dating Robin in the end. To be honest, you are not even interested in the romantic sentimental part of your relationship, that could easily be exclusively your problem, what matters to you is him just being here, being your friend Steve, a person you care about, who has experienced more trauma in the last few months than a normal person in a lifetime and who won't let you help. You hust want him to talk to you, he has been living with you for the past three weeks and he doesn't seem happy about it.

That makes you angry and sad, you really want him to start seeing himself as part of the family somehow, in any way he wants. In short, you would like him to realize the way your father looks at him, with admiration, affection, esteem. The, way you look at him like he is the fuckin sun, shining above you, keeping you alive.

He doesn't seem happy about anything anymore to be honest. Every now and then you see him looking at you, your father and El with a nostalgic smile on his face and you know exactly what he's thinking, because you know him enough to understand it. He is happy to have you, to be with you, but at the same time he feels like he doesnt' belong here: this is not his family, it's yours, and he is a guest. He has never had what you have, he never will.

"I missed you" You reply.

"And El doesn't want to turn off the light and sleep. She's scribbling something for Mike in her diary."

"Such a sweet little girl," Steve comments. "Wheeler is a lucky boy" "She's gooey and drives me crazy" You reply "But she's my babysister and she's really really sweet and she cares about Mike a lot, sometimes I'm almost afraid it's too much for such young kids." He shakes his head. "I suppose growing up in a lobratory, then defeating Demogorgons and the damn Mindflayer gives you a slightly different perception of things."

Steve looks into your eyes, wonders what you were like at El's age. He can't remember and he hates it. At the time he still didn't have the courage to talk to you, Tommy H. would make fun of him, 'cause your father was a alcoholic and you used to come to school with weird combinations of colors and old clothes. No one was really taking care of you during these long years and he was so... silly. Steve wonders if you wrote your crush's names on your diary too. He wonders if you have ever written his stupid name.

"You know, sometimes I forget that we are so young too, I feel already old." You continue. He lets out a little puff, his gaze is lost in nothingness. "I feel at the end of the line, y/n" he affirms.

"Is that why you weren't sleeping?" You ask. He nods, without adding anything else. You lie down next to him, slowly, almost expecting him to pull you away at any moment, but he doesn't and you find yourself with your head against his chest and his hand in your hair, caressing you as gently as it hasn't been in a long time. "That's why you were crying today" You continue, your voice trembling, afraid of ruining everything and finding him distant from you again. But he doesn't chase you away, he doesn't move, you feel him hold his breath before answering. "I've been living here for three weeks, but the money I earn at Family Video isn't enough to pay you a decent rent, to support myself, not to weigh on you. But not even to leave. And I don't know what to do with my life, I have no prospects y/n and I....I'm scared." He confesses. You hold him tighter. "No one expects you to pay us Steve, your contribution is enough, and above all it is enough for us that you are well, even dad thinks so. We will help you and when you will be back on your feet, when you will understand what to do and how, we we will support you. I swear. Until that moment we will take care of you. Please Steve, let us take care of you"

"I'd be lost without you."

Steve sighs. "That's what scares me, I don't want you to do that..." You cut him off, standing up to face him, a suddenly serious and furious expression on your face. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare say you don't deserve It" He looks at you in shock, as if wondering how you know what he thinks. "Steve, if anyone deserves it, it's you. Allow yourself to be helped and loved, for once." Steve can't find the courage to reply this time, he nods, and you lie down next to him again trying not to think about the unfortunate choice of terms you've made. Love. You hope he hasn't noticed it and that he doesn't get strange ideas because now, surrounded in his warm embrace as you feel your heavy eyelids closing and his lips placing sweet kisses in your hair, you couldn't stand a rejection. Not now that you're deluding yourself and imagining and letting go to a distant fantasy in which Steve Harrington loves you and this is just yet another night you spend together in your country house, after making love for hours. It's such a beautiful idea that you fall asleep smiling, not worrying that your father will find you together. You even imagine Steve's voice muttering something in your ear.

For the first time in three weeks Steve Harrington falls asleep without his nightmares and for a moment forgets the fear of being like his dad. To be honest, while he hugs you and whispers sweet words in your ear, he feels profoundly different from him, he has never done certain things with his mother. And then another thought takes over to keep him awake: Steve is thinking of you like his own wife and while he watches you sleeping peacefully next to him with an expression of pure serenity on his face, he realizes something he may have known all along. Steve Harrington is hopelessly in love with you. And he's not his father, he never will be as long as he has a good reason to be better. The reason is you, y/n Hopper.

Your father doesn't notice your nocturnal escapes to Steve's room, he never does. This makes you suspicious to be honest because Hopper has always been quite careful about this kind of things but you don't think too much about it, you have other priorities right now. The nights with Steve are beautiful, you spend them hugging each other on his bed, trying not to make noise and not to wake anyone up, playing, joking, listening to music, anything but sleeping. Talking, mostly, but never about all the terrible things you've experienced like Billy or the Russians, but about simple, normal life. About El and Mike and their relationship, about Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin and sometimes even Robin. Apparently there is nothing between her and Steve or at least he says so. You don't think that's all, there's probably something he's not telling you and you feel curiosity dug in because there isn't a single good reason for those two not to be together: she's beautiful, smart and brave and they have a crazy chemistry, they've shared a trauma, they are always together. Honestly, It makes no sense. Furthermore she is perhaps the only girl in Steve's life who can easily compete with Nancy Wheeler, both so perfect even if different. You sigh, curled up on Steve's chest. Certain thoughts hurt you, they scratch your stomach and chest and lungs and you are gripped by a jealousy that makes you feel bad, an envy that makes you despise everything you are and possess because if Nancy Wheeler is his standard, then you will never have Steve, not the way you want.. Yours isn't anger, you don't wish them - Nance and Rob- anything but good, you're just... Sad.

Maybe Steve Harrington has a sixth sense for your needs because he seems to notice it right away, your change in mood, the way your little hands have begun to grip him tightly without you realizing it, to tremble imperceptibly. He worries about you immediately, ha wants to hold your face between his hands and force you to talk to him like you have done so many times because he knows you enough to understand that something is bothering you, but you're not him, you wouldn't talk, you would keep it all to yourself because that's what you do. You believe your problems are stupid and your thoughts irrelevant and your traumas aren't that bad. Steve realizes you and him have more in common than he thought. Probably that's why, while lying in each other's arms, you fit so well, like your bodies are made to be together, close.

"hey hey" He repeats while you're clinging to him like a little girl, in desperation, you stretch out your arms to hug his neck, you curl up on yourself, you hide your head in the crook of his neck, you breathe his perfume and soak the edge of his pajamas with tears without being able to stop. "Sorry". You Repeat obsessively, like a prayer.

"Everything okay?" You can feel his warm breath in your ear. Shivering, you stay silent, your hands loosen their grip on him, but the shaking, that doesn't stop. It can't be stopped. It's not just about Steve, it's that the weight of always being the last choice, the discard, the second place falls on your shoulders all at once. No matter how hard you try, you're nobody's favorite: not the kids, not Steve's, nobody's. At Starcourt you had to save your own ass, you weren't saved, no one came for you until you were already free from Billy's clutches. Even with your father, deep down you never feel his first place, his priority: you have to compete with a dead sister who will always be the ghost of your lives. Thinking these things makes you feel rotten, bad, corrupt inside. You feel so damn guilty. You burst into tears without warning like a raging river, your shoulders shake with violentl sobs and it looks like to Steve that your bones are about to break. He is taken aback, he doesn't immediately hug you, his hands, are still on your trembling body. He wonders why you're crying, then he remembers that after everything that's happened he's never seen you do it and he wonders what you're not crying about.

"You couldn't be bad even if you wanted to y/n" He replies, with a serious and sincere tone. He wishes you could see yourself through his eyes, he wishes you realized how absurd what you're saying is: you have forgiven all of his stupid mistakes and if you're bad he then, what is he? With all the petty things he's done, he should be a monster. But for you he never was. Steve knows it and he wishes he could give you the same comfort.

He squeezes you tightly, as if he wants to engulf you in himself, to keep you away from anything that hurts you. "Sorry about what honey?" Steve asks kissing your temple with a softness that makes you feel even worse. "I'm bad Steve...I think bad things"

He catches is breath against your mouth, you no longer know where he ends and you begin and there is something violent, ferocious, urgent in the way your mouths and your teeth collide, in the salty taste of this kiss, in the tears that keep flowing as your brain screams, screams that it won't last much longer and when you break away you will have to face reality.

"You are not in my head Steve you don't know... You don't know the terrible thoughts I have" Steve now stands in front of you, grabs your face with both hands, runs his thumb over the smooth skin of your cheeks, wipes away the silent tears, then runs his finger along your chin, jaw, lips. "You will never be evil in my eyes. I don't care what you think, I don't care what you do. You are and always will be the most amazing woman on earth and if there is something beyond the earth, then you will be the most incredible creature there too" He whispers to you. His words collapse on you like a boulder and honestly Steve is surprised at what he's saying because he didn't even know he could use such true and complicated words, that he could formulate such a deep thought. You feel like dying under his lucid, excited gaze, which seems to read you inside and not be afraid of what he might find. He lets his eyes travel from your face to your lips, where he continues to caress your bottom lip with his thumb. With a sigh, he approaches you and you remain petrified in front of what is happening because you have dreamed about it so many times that now it scares you, it terrifies you indeed. Steve places his lips on yours in a chaste kiss that you don't have time to respond to and just moves away, as if to ask permission before continuing, and without your brain being able to take control you find yourself with your lips glued together again to his in a hungry kiss, he lets your tongue meet his own, bites your lip, your hands run through his soft hair and squeeze them as if they are the only foothold for life. Maybe that's not such a big lie after all.

You're taking advantage of him and his weakness.

Days later things are worse than you've expected, the disappointment in Steve's eyes at your rejection is something you don't think you can erase, because your only certainty has always been one: you wouldn't hurt him. Ever. Yet here you are, both of you closed in a silence that no one can explain except you and him. Since you've talked, you've put up a wall to protect him, or maybe that's what you like to think when in reality you're only thinking about yourself, because you're afraid you're not strong enough to make a point with Steve, not without putting a distance, pretending that your kiss was a mistake.

Steve Harrington is kissing you because he's grateful, because you're helping him, because he's lonely and he tends to confuse feelings, he always has after all and you know him enough to be sure that no matter how much it hurts you'll have to make the right choice for both of you: walk away and give him time to understand. But now, you let him kiss you again, wondering how you're going to live without his lips on yours now that you've discovered the sweet taste and heady sensation of them.

"It's not a mistake, how could it be?" he asks when you put your hand on his chest to push him away from you, muttering a series of no's and "that's wrong"

"Because it's not what you want Steve, it's not what you want and I know it and I can't, I can't take advantage of it."

"You don't decide what the heck I want y/n, I want you!" Steve raises his voice just before you silence him with your hand by pointing to the door your father slept through. He shakes his head, regaining his composure to whisper again, trying to caress you.

"I... I want it, I swear I want what happened" You walk away shaking your head and god knows how you don't cry.

"Not now Steve, I want to make sure you don't do it out of gratitude." He is annoyed, you see.

"Fix everything and we'll talk about it, I swear"

Steve looks at you, let his eyes run over you as if he were seeing you for the first time. "I'll wait for you, if you still want me I'll be there" you continue. He caresses you again, this time you don't move, you can't, you don't want to. Like a cat, you let yourself go against his hand. "I know what I want, it's not solving my problems that will change anything. But I swear that in this time I will become the best version of myself so that you have no doubts. I swear." He confesses, placing the ghost of a kiss on your lips, so light you might have imagined it.

You don't claim that you don't want to it, that every version of him is the best version for you and he doesn't confess that he doubts the best version of himself will still be enough for someone special like you.

"Just promise me until we clear things up between us, it won't be weird," he say. You hug him, but you don't answer. You don't want to lie to him.You can't.

Everything falls apart and when it does, it happens bad and you can't be there for Steve.

The call catches him off guard, like a bolt from the blue as soon as Steve's life seemed to start moving in a better direction. Hopper had offered him a job with him at the station, to support Flo and was starting to think about trying to make things right with you. And then there it is, the cold voice of a lawyer who is calling him on behalf of his client, Mr. Harrington, to tell Steve that he had been disinherited by his parents. Damn he don't even care about the family business or their money or the house because to tell the truth he never felt any of it was his own, which more than anything makes him want to die, to rip his heart from the chest. is the fact that his father doesn't have the courage to call him, or perhaps the desire. Not even a word from his mother. The lawyer asks him what his new address is, so that he can deliver his last personal belongings, and Steve gives it to him in a cold and apathetic tone under your and Hopper's perplexed gaze. His face an impenetrable and emotionless mask, his skin pale and sweaty, his eyes dull and empty. This is the image you have of Steve Harrington before he runs away from your house, without saying a word, deaf to your words, to your screams. "What's up Steve?" You ask, following him, grabbing his shoulder only to be swept away without a single look, a word, an explanation.Your father puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Let him go" he tells you. "He will be back soon"

But the day after his bed is still empty, his car - the only thing he has left - is not there. It does not take much for Hopper to find out what has happened to upset him so much and when your dad confesses it to you, before going out to look for the boy, you imagine what Steve might have thought: his parents didn't even wanted of saying it to his face, of speaking with him, to treat him as a person and not a practice to be resolved quickly. He will think that's because he is not enough, he has no value or quality that distinguishes him from the garbage that is thrown away in the morning. You know he thinks it, you know he will always think it no matter how much you try to tell him otherwise and you know, above all, that now he will feel guilty for having reacted like this, for having felt emotions, for being human and he will call himself idiot because with everything he's seen and experienced he collapses from a stupid phone call, his heart give out and his strength suddenly failes as a whirlwind has sucked it all away.

Silly, pathetic rich boy.

What you don't imagine he has been thinking obsessively in these hours is your face. As soon as he closes his eyes you're here and you tell him he doesn't know what he wants and Steve isn't able to convince you that he wants you and now, now realizes it's pretty obvious why you don't believe him: after all he was a liar, he was a fool, someone not to trust and maybe in your heart you still see him in this way, an unreliable douchebag. The same douchebg that doesn't deserve you and never will. You're too good and kind and special to admit it or more simply you just haven't realize it, it's your subconscious that knows-really knows- how terribile Steve Harrington is. Steve believs you are trying hard to look for the good in him, but deep down you see what's underneath, a poor asshole with no prospects who has now lost everything.

He lets a hand slide over his face, the bat gripped in the other hand and with a cry he starts hitting his beloved car. He doesn't want anything from his father, nothing, not even a memory, not even that mass of iron that he loves so much. And he screams, he screams so loud that he gets people's attention and he dosen't care at all.

When Hopper receives a call in the middle of the night about an unidentified subject, a boy, who is breaking up a car near the Harrington's house, Hopper interrupts his search after so many hours and reaches Steve as any good father should do, ready to bring him back to their home.

"That's not my last name anymore" Steve replies chuckling, completely gone, he drops dead weight against the man's body. "You're comfortable" he comments, to hide the apathy he feels with a laugh so fake that Jim's heart skips a beat. He looks at him so battered and thinks he's really sick. If he had I found him like this a few years ago, he would have thought it was the whim of yet another spoiled child, but now Jim knows and respects his pain and if he weren't a big tough and mean big man he would feel it too in part. Or so he likes to believe, he doesn't want to admit that he's attached to him to the point of feeling his pain.

He finds him sitting in the middle of the road, so stupidly drunk that if he woulnd't even notice a car running over him. He doesn't notice Hopper's car stopping near him , or maybe he's pretending. The kid is great at acting. He doesn't even say anything when the man lifts him off the ground and drags him into his car. "What are you doing Harrington?" Hopper mutters

Steve gets into the car next to him and is silent again. "Are you all right boy?" He asks. Steve shakes his head. He laughs again, but tears roll down his face silently from him. Steve doesn't notice. "I no longer have a family don't you know chief?" Hopper shakes his head.

"That Family never deserved you anyway Steve" Steve doesn't seem to hear him and continues "And I don't think I'm going to college. Ever. I don't think I can leave this place. I will die here, just stupid and poor Steven without a family."He's so drunk. He doesn't know why he is saying certain things. His mouth moves by itself. "And young. I'll die young" Hopper turns to him, seriously worried "Don't talk shit boy. You'd break y/n's heart by leaving her too soon, then I'd have to kill you again."Steve shakes his head, smiles thinking of you and Hopper sees something change in his gaze, a light, something melting inside him.

"She would be better off without me"

"I'm a father, Steve. I'm a jealous father and you know it kid, but I have to tell you, my daughter would die without you." the boy lowers his head.

"I wish it weren't like this, chief. I'm sorry. "

"Not me my boy. You make her happy and you're our family now. You're not alone. Also don't think I could bear to see her with someone else" Steve shakes his head, sniffs at him and his cheeks flush as he realizes he's been crying in front of Jim Hopper. "It'll be fine son" the man tells him, and there's such a certainty in his words that Steve Harrington decides to believe it for the first time. "You're a good person Steve."

Jim sighs. Sorry for what? He thinks, for having people caring about him? This time he reaches out and ruffles Steve's hair in an affectionate gesture.

He will be fine. He's fine.He'll get better, he'll do it for you and when Hopper'll bring him home he'll hold you in his arms and repeat you that he knows what he wants, he's known it since the beginning. He loves you madly and he'll get better for you, but by your side , because that is his place, a small space in the world that was created just for him. You'll cry a little hugging him in the middle of the night, you'll think about all the times you've come close to being his -all the almosts, the maybes buts that have kept you apart until now - and the times when you suffered knowing you'd never have him and the ones where you felt your heart skip a beat seeing him with anothergirl and you'll know it was worth it. For him, for your perfect Steve. He'll took you to his bed at night, hiding from your dad, he'll lie down next to you and you'll just to listen to the furious beating of his strong heart and everything will be worthy this moment. And you'll love him and you'll feel loved by him, which deep down, even if he'll never understand it, is the greatest privilege of your life. You hope that one day your love will be enough to convince him of this.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!oc #jim hopper #jim hopper and steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanart #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson

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reallyromealone · 2 years

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Hi there, can I request a part for eddie munson a/b/o fic where they have a kid. I had a small idea (you can do with it what you want) the idea was reader going into his first heat after having their kid. Sorry if this is too non-specific and if you don't feel like writing it, it's okay. Thank you ❤️

-🦝(can I be this anon if it's not already taken)

Yesyesyes

I was thinking of this but was too lazy to write it but now is my chance and don't worry about specifics Hun, I worked with less!

And sure! I really need to keep track of my anons

The doctors said it would take rough 6-8 weeks for (name) to get another heat after having (sons name) and to be ready because it would hit (name) like a truck.

The doctor also said it was more likely he would have more...paternal heats instead of a mating heat and honestly they were fine with it.

It was the early hours when Eddie smelt it and glanced over to see his angel wearing his shirt and with their two month old son and trying to fix the nest "hey baby, you need help?" (Name) whipped his head to look at his alpha and purred when he saw him without a shirt and handed the pup over before working on the nest, the tiny pup making little noises as he settled into his dad's chest.

Eddie had never seen (name) in a maternal heat though Dustin aways said he was very strange during it and Eddie could see why, he was almost in a trance making that nest and at the smallest sound was in defence mode.

"What a pretty nest baby... Keeping our pup safe, such a good boy" Eddie soothed his Omega who all but melted from his words and laughed slightly as (name) tugged him into the nest and snuggled into him and pulled (sons name) closer and the tiny pup just clung helplessly to his mama.

Eddie struggled not to fall into his instincts as he watched over his tiny pack, (name) dazed and whining when he moved an inch and constantly scenting and smooching him for attention, the warmth of the nest soothing as the couple scenting each other and (sons name).

When the doorbell rang (name) pulled their pup closer and moved further into the nest and closet as a whole and Eddie just soothed the Omega who was freaking out when the doorbell was rang repeatedly and knew immediately who was on the other side as he walked out of the room, closing the closet door to make sure his Omega was secure before throwing open the door to stare down the party who looked smug "jeez what took so long?" Mike said with a shit eating grin when Dustin smelt it "oh shit..." Causing the others save for Eddie to look at him confused "what?" Max asked with a tilt of the head "shit already!" He ignored Max's question and Eddie nodded "amazed he didn't follow you out"

"He's currently guarding (sons name)"

"What's going on?" El asked curiously and Eddie sighed "(name)s in heat" he said simply and Dustin took off his sweater and handed it to Eddie "here" Eddie took the sweater and ruffled his brother in law's hair "you need anything?" Lukas asked the elder alpha who nodded "I need you shits to get a case of water, easy but healthy snacks and diapers" he said grabbing his wallet and pulled out thirty dollars "this should cover it, you know the diapers yeah?" Dustin nodded, having seen the box more than enough times within the few months and took the cash "good, for the next few days if you need anything" a soft whine could be heard from down the hall and the pups all looked curious at it "ask Stevie and Robbie or hell even Nancy" and with that the door closed.

"Well friends, we have a new quest!" Dustin said excited and the group went off to the grocery store "what's a heat?" El asked curiously and the others realized she probably had zero clue about any of this stuff "well you know how he's an Omega like me right?" Maxs voice calm and El nodded "well once a month for 2-5 days an Omega will have an urge to make a baby" she said simply and El nodded "though since (sons name) is present the instinct to mate is satiated and now it's protect and scent"

El took in the information and nodded, it kind of made sense to the young alpha "will Mike get a heat?"

"He's a beta so no"

"Will you?"

"Well Mr. Stevens said omegas don't get heats until around 16-17 so not for a while"

The group made it to the grocery store and got the supplies not to mention a snack for each of them.

It was Eddie's way of paying the pups for getting stuff, go to the store you can get a treat.

"Why easy snacks?" Will asked curiously and Dustin sighed "(name) can be a shit when it comes to eating during heat, kind of need easy foods to trick him into eating"

"How did you do that?*

"I take a bite and he takes a bite, he would only eat if he knew I ate"

When the pups returned Eddie opened the door but with a fresh mating mark on his neck "excellent, you guys get your snack?"

"Yup!"

The pups helped him being the stuff in before leaving, Eddie then returned to the best with two water bottles and a soft granola bar and bit it before going into a kiss and pushing it into (name)s mouth and doing the same with water "gotta stay healthy baby" Eddie said softly when the Omega pouted, the mating mark on his skin still slightly bloody from Eddie's teeth and canines.

Situating their son in a safe spot (name) crawled on-top of Eddie and snuggled into his bare chest, the Alpha pulling him close "shhh go to sleep Omega" he gently used a command as he felt his mate slowly grow limp in his arms.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #x male reader #omega male reader #omegaverse

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 6 days

Text

Shallan Davar kind of hates her brothers. Sometimes, at least. They are lucky that she kind of loves them, too. Granted, not as much as she hates and loves herself (there is nothing "kind of" about that. Only sometimes). But still.

Her father is always doing his best to beat indifference into her (metaphorically at least) while her tutors call her a monster whenever she lets it slip how little she cares. Easy for them to say. They get to leave, after all. So it is proof of how important her brothers are to her, that she cares so much. Even if those feelings toe the line between loathing and disgust sometimes.

You can't really blame her, though. They are a bit pathetic. She isn't sure if it is something inherent to her or another piece molded by her father, but Shallan has always appreciated strength. It is only in the definition of what makes a strong person that her and father's opinions deviate. Most of the time, at least. (Probably not as often as she'd like).

Three older boys - men, really - with their entire sense of joy depending upon the whims of one little girl? Sometimes she can understand Helaran's urge to leave. Other times she thinks he is the most pathetic of them all.

Then again, she supposes it is not their fault. It was by design, after all. In a way, this is another twisted way father favored her. He breaks them apart so she can glue them back together. Because maybe she is weak, but she knows that they are even worse. Shallan, so kind, so delicate, so feminine, so submissive. Shallan, so observant and so smart, always aching, always better.

Her brothers are easy to figure out. Love, jokes, something to do. Most people are, if you strip back their layers of angst and self-important. In the end, all everyone wants is to be wanted.

(She is not exempt from that. She knows she is not exempt from that and she loathes it with everything in her being because it makes her feel stupid and vain and weak. It makes her average. Like everyone else.

So she locks it away, like everything else she is scared of. Aren't they easy, she'll think, seeing her brother's eyes lighten up when he receives another letter. And, if only for a moment, she'll feel good. A confirmation of what she already knows.)

Shallan has always loathed weakness, so of course she took the first chance to get out of there on her own. Wikim's laugh, once a warm blanket of approval, makes her want to grit her teeth. Balat's sad attempts at leadership, once a source of amusement, now make her want to punch him in the face. She could do a better job. She knows she could because she already did - rescuing her older brothers from despair. But they still just see her as a little girl. And Jushu? Everything about him vexes her. She can't hear any of their voices without wanting to throw up. "I'll do it for the family", she had said, amping up her part as the demure little sister. "You're so brave, Shallan" "You are our salvation, Shallan" "I know you can do it, Shallan".

Shallan looks over at her betrothed, his hair golden beneath the sunlight. Adolin Kholin is a beautiful man. And he wants her. (Of course he does - just like Jasnah wanted her brain, just like her brothers wanted her clever tongue, just like her father wanted her heart, just like her mother wanted her head)

Shallan looks over at her betrothed and smiles at him.

(A small ugly part of her was relieved that Jasnah didn't make it. At least she didn't have to go through it again. Watching helplessly as feelings of admiration and affection turn into anger and disgust. No way to escape or to stop it.)

Adolin Kholin, so strong, so handsome, so talented, so powerful.

(She thinks back to her brothers. She looks forward to being able to spend time with them again. She prays that, by the time they meet again, the distaste will have run its course. At least for now. She misses being able to stomach their presence and it hurts.)

The firstborn of the arguably most important man in the east and a girl from a small indebted house slowly collapsing into itself.

She wonders how much time they have.

#furthering my covert npd shallan agenda #shallan davar #shallan kholin #stormlight archive

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oohnotvery · 3 months

Text

Throwing Good After Bad (Chapter 12)

Mulder

If Mulder is brutally honest with himself, he didn’t expect to see Scully this morning. The part of him that stayed up all night blinking helplessly at the ceiling was sure the Black Sands had already killed Scully. The part of him that considered shooting out the windows and doors and clambering out of the house to find Scully firmly believed that the last time he would ever touch her was that night in the jungle.

And that wasn’t even real.

The only thing that kept him slightly persuaded of her safety was the fact that the full moon was still one night away.

That, and the fact that he did try to shoot out the window. Placing a roll of towels over the barrel of his gun and instructing Lydia to run the shower to drown out the noise, he shot at the glass.

And it didn’t even budge. Who the hell has bulletproof glass in their home?

“Cult groups who routinely imprison unwilling human sacrifices,” Lydia answered, and he actually snorted. Her sense of humor was improving.

“Think I should try the door next?”

She shrugged a little. “They’ve got to let us out sometime, don’t you think?”

He honestly didn’t know. He was going on so little information about the Black Sands’ next move. All he really knew was that he had to get to Scully, and soon.

Because of that, he did try shooting the door, and although he clipped off part of the lock, he and Lydia were astonished to find that a more formidable padlock prevented the door from fully opening.

“I think it’s clear more than ever that we’re being held prisoner,” Mulder quipped as he stared at the impenetrable door.

After that, Lydia convinced him to try to get some sleep, promising him that if in the morning they still weren’t freed from their dungeon, “I’ll let loose my entire round until that window explodes.”

But all his fears were unfounded, because now they’re at breakfast in the lodge, and Scully is here. To his relief, she looks completely unharmed, although her hair is wet and stringy. He wonders if it’s from the shower or from the unrelenting rain.

He physically restrains himself from running to her, instead using Lydia as a proxy, grabbing her hand in relief. Lydia glances gratefully at Scully and Joe and gives him a big squeeze in return. He knows she didn’t get any sleep either, though neither of them has mentioned it. But sharing a small bed in a creaky old house doesn’t lend itself to privacy of any sort, and she tossed and turned all night.

Mulder approaches the dining table and instantly meets his partner’s eyes, boring holes in them for answers. Are you safe? Do you feel uncomfortable? How are we going to get out of here?

But all he says is “good morning. How was your night?”

“Fine,” she answers, smiling behind a bite of toast. Her eyes dart warily towards the end of the table, where Jules and Harlan sit. Taking her cue, Mulder slips onto the bench across from her and nudges her shin under the table. Are you really okay? She nudges him back. I’m really okay.

He’s about to ask her very subtly about her sleeping arrangements—an issue that has been bothering him just slightly less than her general safety—when Evan walks over.

“Floyd, Lauren? I think it might be more polite if you two sat with your hosts this morning.” At Mulder’s blank look, Evan pauses. “You know, to express your gratitude?”

Mulder swallows and meets Scully’s eyes. She shrugs very slightly and he rises slowly, Lydia getting up with him.

They eat in near complete silence across from their hosts Sandy and Ed, who don’t seem too keen on having any kind of conversation. Rather, the older couple keeps their eyes on their plate of eggs and beans while Lydia attempts to strike up some sort of pleasant conversation. Eventually she just gives up.

He’s watching Scully refill her glass at a water station when he notices Grace sidle up to her. The blonde woman touches her elbow gently and bends over to whisper something in his partner’s ear. What he wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall. The whispered conversation takes less than half a minute before Grace is skittering away. Seeming to forget about her empty water glass, Scully turns slightly on her heel.

Their eyes lock instantly, like a compass always pointed at true north.

Her mouth parts and he sees the concern pulling at her brows. He immediately starts to rise to go over to her. Fuck politeness.

And then Evan is on her, firmly clutching her elbow and escorting her out the door to the lodge. Behind him, Jules and Harlan follow with Joe. Mulder scrambles from the table and starts to follow them when someone yanks at his arm, dragging him away. It’s Sandy, who has a very firm warning look etched on her aging features.

“The storm is coming in hot and heavy,” she announces. “We’d better get back to the house.”

“But—”

“This way.”

The rain is too thick and he can’t see Scully anymore out the window. He glances quickly at Lydia and she, too, looks worried as Ed brings her over.

“What do we do?” she whispers.

He glances at their hosts. “Where are Scul—where are Danielle and Jack going this morning?” he quickly asks. “I was hoping we’d get some time with them. That was kind of the point of this whole vacation, you know. Quality time with our best buddies.” He shoots them his most charming smile, which Sandy returns with one of her own.

“No worries, dear,” she says easily. “We were planning to meet up with them for afternoon tea. If the storm lets up, of course.”

He blinks. “Of course.”

They spend the day cooped up in the house, resigned to reading, board games, and card games with Sandy and Ed. The only time they’re left alone is when either of them declares they have to use the bathroom. Mulder disappears to the bathroom so often that Sandy eventually stops refilling his water glass.

He pretends to shower again just so he can radio Kersh, but he’s unable to get a signal due to the storm. Cursing, he almost flings the damn machine across the room but stops himself from doing anything too foolish. When two p.m. arrives and no one has mentioned afternoon tea, Mulder pries Sandy for answers.

“The weather is just too bad,” she says with a disappointed shake of her head. “But I did prepare us some herbal tea. It’s nice on a day like today.”

Mulder sips at his tea moodily, staring out the window and concocting the final stages of his grand escape plan. All he needs to do now is get Lydia alone and give her the details.

He’s imagining the combined force of their weapons blasting a hole in the windows of their bedroom when he starts to feel it.

Queasy. Sick. Drained. Dizzy.

He glances down at his teacup and is astonished to notice his hand suddenly seems ten miles away. In horror, he looks up at Lydia, who seems to be reaching the same conclusion as him.

Drugged.

“What did you put in this?” he tries to shout at Sandy, but the words come out garbled and slurred. Lydia slumps over in her chair before the full effects of the drug hit him. With half-lidded eyes, he watches as Sandy and Ed stand and begin to gather up Lydia in their arms, moving her . . . somewhere. She’s going . . . somewhere.

Is she going where Scully is?

“Scuh-lee,” he moans, and Sandy’s head flicks his way. He musters all the rage he can and chucks the poisoned tea at the damned woman. It misses by several feet.

I’m an idiot, he repeats to himself, over and over and over again as he fights to stay awake, as he fights to stay upright in his chair. Such a goddamned idiot. And Scully is going to die because of me.

#mulder x scully #dana scully #the x files #x files fanfic #msr #msr fanfic #txf #x files #fox mulder #xfiles fanfic

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sakurasfallingstar · 10 months

Text

ShiSaku Week: Day 5

The fourth prince's face was always something he was self-conscious about. It didn't take a genius to figure that out, considering the mask that hid the left side.

A curse was all the people of the kingdom considered it. As for those I'm the palace, unfortunate event.

Now it is because of this mask, or more like what hid beneath it, that made the rain ritual hard to perform.

As soon as he stepped out of the litter transport, the people were not pleased to see him.

He did his best to perform the ritual, with the vase tucked under his arm and the branch held in the other having swisher. It ignored their whispers of displeasure. He just wanted to get this over with. To prove to the king and the crown prince that he could be relied on.

"The king has forsaken us! We suffer from a drought, and they send us this beast! Go back and bring us someone who will please the Gods," a man shouted from within the crowds, being sure to throw a tomato at him.

Then a woman joined in, yelling, "He's not even human. Rather, he is a monster only here to bring bad luck!"

That was only the beginning. One by one, everyone began to throw whatever they could at him. They made him small as to protect himself from the objects being thrown at him.

By the time the fourth prince arrived at the ritual ground, he was a mess and exhausted. His long, wavy hair was disheveled, and his white ceremonial yakuta was stained. Looking around, he looked at his father and mother's, staring down at him to his siblings, who all but one seemed concerned. But it was the pink hair servant, the one person who he'd come to care for in this lonely palace, who turned her head away from his for, did he feel hurt.

It was the sound of the vase dropping that brought the servant's attention back to him. She watched as he helplessly stumbled backward for a few steps before running into the palace.

The fourth prince was only able to find peace within the palaces study. It was there he felt the safest to let out his rage, as he remembers to people's words and treatment throughout the rituals walk through the village to the ritual grounds.

He felt that no matter how hard he tried, he'd never be able to win the affection of anybody. No matter how hard he tried. No matter how hard he changed.

Meanwhile with the pink hair servant girl. She worked hard and diligently to make sure that the fourth prince, Shisui, could perform the ritual rights the followingday.

"Come on, Sakura. It's time to put those licenses you got in the future to use," she muttered, as to began to mix powders and liquids to make a concealer for the fourth prince.

After many failed attempts, she was finally able to get the correct color and consistency she needed. Proud of her accomplishment, she allowed the biggest grin to spread across her face.

Carefully, she packed the products away for the next day. The day when her friend would have his second chance.

Suisui found himself once again in the study. He sat at one of the tables, flipping through a book without really reading it. It was obvious that the previous day's events were still going through his mind.

'At least today, Sasuke will be the one to perform the ritual. He was the one mother had wanted to perform it to begin with,' he thought.

It was nearly time for the ritual, and honestly, Shisui did not want to anywhere near it. He had begun to take his leave when spring personified stopped him in his tracks.

"Fallow me," she said, and she dragged him to a well lit area.

Shisui kept his eyes fixated on her as she pinned his bangs back and carefully took off his mask.

To think, months earlier, he had threatened to kill her for seeing his face in the royal bathing chamber.

The first thing she did was run her finger along the scared tissue. Before she could even reach the end of the scar, Shisui caught her wrist and removed her hand away from his face.

"You... it doesn't bother you to see such an ugly face? Do you feel sorry for me?," he questioned.

Ok, after everything they've gone through, this boy is really gonna test her. Nah bitch. She's done with his edgelord, self pity bullshit.

"How can I feel sorry for someone who's always uttering death threats to me," she said, exasperated while slightly rolling her eyes.

Shisui said nothing. He just continued to state into her emerald eyes. If you asked Sakura, she'd say that it was like he was searching for something. What that something was, she couldn't be too sure.

Taking a deep breath, she continued saying, "Whether you have a scar or not, no matter how people see you, the fact that you're a good person is more important to me."

Shisui didn't know what to think after hearing that. It was the first time someone other than his brothers Itachi or Izuna had acknowledged him as good. Someone who shines so bright and holds so much warth and love had directed some of it toward him.

In that one moment, his heart skipped a beat.

When he let go of Sakura's wrist, it allowed her to continue to trace his scar.

"In the end, it's only a single hand span. You're having a long, dark life because of this one hand span. Doesn't it seem a bit unfair, " she muttered before turning to gathering all the tools she needed.

"Can I trust you."

This sentence caused Sakura to stop in her tracks. She stayed silent, patiently waiting for him to continue what he needed to say.

"I've always wondered and doubted."

With a sigh, she figured she'd dump some of her baggage onto him.

"In the past, I always trusted people and was always betrayed by them. That's when I learned that it is difficult for someone to trust another. Therefore, I intend not to change.

If you trust me your highness, I won't change first. I promise," she reassured, with a smile.

Shisui couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips. In that moment, he decided that he'd fight to be worthy of being the object of her affection.

"Perhaps, if it's you," he paused for a moment before continuing,"I can put myself in your hands. Do whatever you want. As from now on, I'm yours."

He leaned forward slightly and closed his eyes. This was his way of showing he'd trust her. That he'd be willing to let his guard down. Something he'd never do had it been anyone else.

Lifting her makeup brush, Sakura quickly got to work.

Shisui sensed that she was close by her soft exhales on his face. But he didn't realize how close, until he opened his eyes. Their eyes locked, and they both couldn't help but shyly look away.

Just one bump is all it would take, and their lips would meet, is what Shisui thought. He didn't want to dwell on it for too long, so he closed his eyes once more to allow her to work without hesitancy.

Sakura got back into the zone, and she used the makeup brush and finger to evenly spread concealer. Then, taking a pad, she gathered some powder to set the concealer. After carefully dusting away the excess away, she carefully began to pat it around his scar.

Taking a slight step back, she admired her work. In a way, it was like the scar was never there to begin with. In order to see it, you had to be within kissing distance. Which, by the way, nobody's ever dared to be with him. Well, nobody except Sakura herself.

Grabing the mirror, she held it right in front of him so he'd see the results.

With a smile, she said, "You can open your eyes now."

He sat there, stating at his reflect.

To think this girl he had frown to care for has dared to not only show no fear around him but has touched his face. She has taken away his biggest insecurity, freeing him from the chain that held him back.

The drums began to beat, signaling the statt of the ritual. When she excitedly turned to hurry to her post, he grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. Shock was evident on Sakura's face as he held her in place. For a moment, she thought he was going to threaten her again. It was alway hard to tell what Shisui was thinking whenever they held each other's gaze.

"Do you remember," he began, with a small quirk of his lips, "I said this to you once. That you were mine. Even then, and now... even when you touched my face. I've decided I'll make you one of my people. So prepare yourself from this moment on. I won't ever let you go."

As he began to lean in, shisui took note of her stiffness. His smile got bigger as he pulled back and let her go.

With a final loving gaze, he left her there. Left her with the makeup still spread across the table, and the sun still shining through the windows.

This was not the outcome Sakura had been expecting. Especially, after Shisui said he'd make her one of his people.

Yes, it made her heart futter, but that was not important. She needed to get a grip. What mattered right now was the success of the rain ritual. The ritual that could free her from her servant hood if all went well.

Whatever Shisui had meant could wait until after the ritual.

@shisakuweek

#shisakuweek2023 #shisaku week #historical au #moon lovers au #soul traveling #RIP to Sakura as she's technically Hae Soo and Shisui is Wang So #iykyk #this was written at 2 am #have mercy #scarlet heart ryeo au #sakura haruno #shisaku

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